By my sowl, it's himself was the crabbed ould chap!
In a twinklin' he pulled on his ugly black cap.
Then Shamus's mother in the crowd standin' by,
Called out to the judge with a pitiful cry:

"O judge! darlin', don't, Oh, don't say the word!
The crathur is young, have mercy, my lord;

He was foolish; he did n't know what he was doin'.
You don't know him, my lord, – Oh, don't give him to ruin !
He's the kindliest crathur, the tendherest hearted;
Don't part us forever, we that's so long parted.
Judge, mavourneen, forgive him, forgive him, my lord,
An' God will forgive you — Oh, don't say the word!"

That was the first minute that O'Brien was shaken,
When he saw that he was not quite forgot or forsaken;
An' down his pale cheeks, at the word of his mother,
The big tears wor runnin' fast, one afther th' other;
An' two or three times he endeavored to spake,
But the sthrong, manly voice used to falther and break;
But at last, by the strength of his high-mounting pride,
He conquered and masthered his grief's swelling tide,

66

An'," says he, "mother, darlin', don't break your poor heart. For, sooner or later, the dearest must part."

CUDDLE DOON.

THE bairnies cuddle doon at nicht wi' muckle faucht an' din. "O, try and sleep, ye waukrife rogues; your father's comin' in." They never heed a word I speak: I try to gie a froon ;

But aye I hap them up, an' cry, “O, bairnies, cuddle doon !"

the rascal starts them a'. they stop a wee the soun',

Wee Jamie wi' the curley heid—he aye sleeps next the wa'-
Bangs up an' cries, "I want a piece
I rin an' fetch them pieces, drinks,
Then draw the blankets up, and cry, "Noo, weanies, cuddle doon!"

But, ere five minutes gang, wee Rab cries oot, frae 'neath the claes, "Mither, mak' Tam gie ower at ance; he's kittlin' wi' his taes." The mischief's in that Tam for tricks: he'd bother half the toon; But aye I hap them up, and cry, "O, bairnies, cuddle doon!"

At length they hear their father's fit; an', as he steeks the door, They turn their faces to the wa', while Tam pretends to snore. "Hae a' the weans been gude?" he asks, as he pits aff his shoon. "The bairnies, John, are in their beds, an' lang since cuddled doon."

An', just afore we bed oorsels, we look at oor wee lambs :

Tam has his airm roun' wee Rab's neck, an' Rab his airm roun' Tam's.

I lift wee Jamie up the bed, an', as I straik each croon,

I whisper, till my heart fills up, "O, bairnies, cuddle doon !"

The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht wi' mirth that's dear to me;

But soon the big warl's cark an' care will quaten doon their glee :
Yet, come what will to ilka ane, may He who sits aboon

Aye whisper, though their pows be bauld, "O, bairnies, cuddle doon!"

Anderson.

XXXIX. PURPOSES IN EXPRESSION.

THE opinion is held by many that art aims simply to entertain or to amuse; that it exists entirely for its own sake, and if consistent with itself, no more is required of it. It thus has nothing to do with morals or the ethical nature of man, and is hence without purpose. Oratory, on the other hand, such men consider, aims to instruct or to persuade, and hence striving for something beyond itself, has an ethical element which separates it from such an art as painting, or the drama.

All expression, however, aims directly or indirectly to produce an effect upon another mind. Hence, consciously or unconsciously, every form of art has some kind of purpose. The chief difference between an artistic purpose and the oratorical purpose is the fact that in art the purpose is hidden, indirect or more or less unconscious, while in teaching or speaking, the purpose is manifest, direct, and consciously dominates the artist's method of procedure, if it is not frankly stated by him and understood by his audience.

This distinction is not wholly true. A purely conscious or direct presentation of the aim is only a command, and is not only inartistic, but does not even appeal to the rational nature. A mere command requires unquestioning, unthinking obedience, and this, under no consideration, could be dignified by the name of Oratory.

Thus the common distinction is not adequate; but if we seek deeper, we find a common ground upon which a noble speech and a noble painting alike depend. Expression of every form in

poetry, painting, sculpture, architecture, the drama, and oratory, aims to awaken the same faculties in another mind which are active in the mind of the artist.

All expression is founded upon communion of different minds. The painter tries to convey to another the impression a landscape makes upon him. If he merely mechanically reproduces the form and colors of the scene, he belongs on a very low plane. Only in proportion as he manifests his own faculties or feeling in realizing the scene, will he rise into the realm of poetry, or the sublime in art. Thus the fundamental test of nobility of expression depends upon the degree to which the artist manifests the activity of his faculties and awakens the imagination and feeling of the minds he addresses.

Thus, every form of art endeavors to influence the human mind. Purpose is implied even in that literature or work which aims simply to amuse.

The element which underlies all purposes in expression might possibly be best named by the word " influence." "Macbeth" is not a sermon, or a didactic lesson upon the nature of the human conscience; but it influences men by making them realize the nature of conscience and the results of disobeying it. A great painting has profound movement. The Cologne Cathedral may influence men to worship. Its soaring arches may soften the hardest heart that enters, and cause the most irreverent to remove his hat.

Accordingly, in proportion as a speaker unconsciously influences men without dictation, will his effect be the greater.

The conscious or the oratoric purposes are, according to Delsarte, to instruct, to move, and to persuade.

These three purposes are simply the outgrowth of the three natures of man. Instruction is an endeavor to make a man think. To move men is simply to awaken them. Persuasion aims not only to make a man think and to awaken him to the realization of certain facts, but it goes even farther, and endeavors to arouse his will.

These three do not include, of course, all purposes; they simply name three of the most important conscious purposes. The speaker

may convince, inspire, arouse, rebuke, reprove, exhort, entreat, reject, condemn, judge, and the like, but the character of all of these depends upon the part of the nature of the speaker which is awake, and the part of his auditors to which he appeals.

There is no worse fault nor more common one in speaking than monotony of purpose. A man who does nothing but teach will affect only a small part of the nature of his auditors, and will become a pedant. He who seeks only to interest or to move is apt to appeal more and more to the lower nature of his audience, and become a demagogue or a sensationalist. He who exhorts and tries to persuade men continually without making them think or without making their vital natures live, also becomes abnormal.

These purposes vary continually. One is dependent upon another; they continually intermingle, and any true speaker makes constant transitions from one to another. He only is a great orator who is able to pass readily from any one purpose to another. The speaker must appeal to the whole nature of his audience, and be able to move any part of the nature of man at will. Hence, exercise in a great variety of purposes embodied in very short, sharply contrasted extracts is very important for all.

There are three professions named on account of these purposes; but while the teacher more especially teaches, and the popular orator simply moves, and the preacher persuades, still these three purposes are combined in all noble expression.

There are many passages of literature in which the definite aim regarding another mind is not manifest. There are many other passages which may be used with any one of the purposes. Students should arrange a great many purposes, such as to teach, to warn, to encourage, to apologize, to reprove, to rebuke, to inspire, to arouse, to allay excitement; select passages for their illustration, and practise them in contrast.

These may be given also under different situations. For example, to arouse to joy, to arouse to battle, to arouse courage, to arouse hope, to arouse faith. The variations are innumerable.

Purposes should not be confounded with emotion. It is good practice to keep the purpose the same, but vary the feeling or the person against whom the feeling is directed.

PROBLEM XXV. Contrast several extracts with varied purposes, and conceive and assimilate carefully the difference of aim.

HURRAH! hurrah! the west wind comes freshening down the bay!

The rising sails are filling, give way, my lads, give way.

THE aids to noble life are all within.

Cordelia. O thou good Kent, how shall I live and work,
To match thy goodness? My life will be too short,
And every measure fail me.

Whittier.

"FORWARD, the light brigade! Charge for the guns!" he said.

Tennyson.

WHEN all thy mercies, O my God, my rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I'm lost in wonder, love, and praise.

BEAR with me, good boy, I am much forgetful.
Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile,
And touch thy instrument a strain or two?

We have not wings, we cannot soar ;
But we have feet to scale and climb

By slow degrees, by more and more,
The cloudy summits of our time.

Longfellow.

WHICH is the real hereditary sin of humanity? Do you imagine that I shall say pride, or luxury, or ambition? No! I shall say indolence. He who conquers that can conquer all.

PROBLEM XXVI. Vividly conceive the ideas and situation of some animated extract, and read it so as to move another.

YE sons of Freedom, wake to glory!

Hark! hark! what myriads bid ye rise!
Your children, wives, and grandsires hoary,
Behold their tears and hear their cries.

FLING broad the sail, dip deep the oar:
To sea to sea! the calm is o'er.

Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, with all the speed ye may;
I, with two more to help me, will hold the foe in play.
In yon straight path a thousand may well be stopped by three ;
Now who will stand on either hand and keep the bridge with me?

Macaulay.