my view, all trifles light as àir, and not worth considering, unless with them you can have a fair share of cómfort, conténtment, and happiness among the great body of the people.

2. Pálaces, baronial castles, great hálls, stately mánsions, do not make a nátion. The nation, in every country, dwells in the cottage; and unless the light of your constitution can shine thère, unless the beauty of your legislation and excellence of your statesmanship are impressed there in the feelings and condition of the people, rely upon it you have yet to learn the duties of government.

JOHN BRIGHT.

3. THE PASSING OF THE RUBICON. [An example of impassioned argumentative declamation.]

1. A gentleman, Mr. President, speaking of Cæsar's benevolent disposition, and of the reluctance with which he entered into the civil wár, obsérves, "How long did he pause upon the brink of the Rubicon?" How càme he to the brink of that river? How dared he cròss it? Shall private men respect the boundaries of private property, and shall a man pay no respect to the boundaries of his country's rights? How dared he cross that river? O, but he paused upon the brink! He should have perished upon the brink ere he had crossed it! 2. Why did he pause? Why does a man's heart pàlpitate when he is on the point of committing an unlawful deed? Why does the very mûrderer, his victim sleeping before him, and his glaring eye taking the measure of the blow, strike wide of the mortal part? Because of conscience! 'T was that made Cæsar pause upon the brink of the Rubicon.

3. Compássion! What compassion! The compassion of an assassin, that feels a mòmentary shúdder as his

weapon begins to cut! Cæsar paused upon the brink of the Rubicon? What was the Rubicon? The boundary of Caesar's province. From what did it sèparate his province? From his country. Was that country a désert? Nò: it was cultivated and fèrtile; rích and populous! Its sons were men of génius, spirit, and gènerosity! Its daughters were lovely, susceptible, and chaste! Friendship was its inhabitant! Love was its inhabitant! Domestic affection was its inhabitant! Liberty was its inhabitant! All bounded by the stream of the Rubicon !

4. What was Caesar, that stood upon the brink of that river? A traitor, bringing war and pestilence into the heart of that country! No wonder that he pausedno wonder if, his imagination wrought upon by his cónscience, he had beheld blood instead of water; and heard groans instead of murmurs! No wonder if some gorgon horror had turned him into stone upon the spot! But, no-he cried, "The die is cast!" He plunged!-he crossed!—and Rome was free no mòre!

KNOWLES.

4. OUR DUTIES TO OUR COUNTRY.

[An example of oratorical declamation. Movement, slow; quality, orotund; prevailing inflections, falling.]

1. This lovely land, this glorious líberty, these benign institútions, the dear purchase of our fathers, are durs; ours to enjoy, ours to presérve, ours to transmìt. Generations pást, and generations to còme, hold us responsible for this sacred trùst. Our fathers, from behind, admonish us, with their anxious paternal vòices; posterity calls out to us, from the bosom of the future; the world turns hither its solicitous eyes-àll, all conjure us to act wisely, and faithfully, in the relations which we sustain.

2. We can never, indeed, pay the debt which is upòn us; but by virtue, by morálity, by religion, by the culti

vation of every good prínciple and every good hábit, we may hope to enjoy the blessing through our day, and to leave it unimpaired to our children. Let us feel deeply how much of what we are, and what we possess, we owe to this liberty, and these institutions of gòvernment.

3. Nature has, indeed, given us a soil which yields bounteously to the hands of industry; the mighty and fruitful ocean is befóre us, and the skies over our heads shed health and vigor. But what are lands, and sèas, and skies, to civilized mán, without society, without knowledge, without mòrals, without religious culture? and how can these be enjoyed, in all their extént, and all their éxcellence, but under the protection of wise institutions and a free government?

4. Fellow-citizens, there is not one of us here présent who does not, at this moment, and at every moment, experience in his own condition, and in the condition of those most near and déar to him, the influence and the benefits of this liberty, and these institutions. Let us then acknowledge the blessing; let us feel it deeply and powerfully; let us cherish a strong affèction for it, and resolve to maintain and perpètuate it. The blood of our fathers, let it not have been shed in vàin; the great hope of postérity, let it not be blasted.

WEBSTER.

5. THE AMERICAN WAR.

1. These abominable prínciples, and this mòre abominable avówal of them, demand the most decisive indignation! I call upon that Right Reverend Bench, those holy ministers of the Gospel, and pious pastors of our Church; I conjure them to join in the holy wórk, and to vindicate the religion of their God! I appeal to the wisdom and the law | of this learned Bench, to de

fend and support the jústice of their country! I call upon the Bishops | to interpose the unsullied sánctity | of their lawn, upon the judges | to interpose the púrity | of their èrmine, to save us from this pollution!

2. I call upon the honor of your Lordships, to reverence the dignity of your ancestors, and to maintain your own! I call upon the spirit and humánity of my country, to vindicate the national character! I invoke the génius of the Constitution! From the tapestry that adorns these walls, the immortal ancestor of the noble Lórd frowns with indignation at the disgráce of his country!

3. Turn forth into our settlements, among our ancient connections, friends, and relátions, the merciless cănnibal, thirsting for the blood of mán, woman, and child? Send forth the infidel săvage? Against whom? Against your brethren! To lay waste their country, to desolate their dwellings, and extirpate their ráce and name, with these horrible hounds of savage wàr!

4. Spáin armed herself with blood-hounds to extirpate the wretched natives of Amèrica; and wě | improve on the inhuman example of even Spanish cruelty ;-we turn loose these savages, these fiendish hounds, against our brethren and countrymen in Amèrica, of the same lànguage, làws, líberties, and religion—endéared to us by every tie that should sanctify humanity!

PITT.

6. FREEDOM.

I will speak the words of Freedom; I will listen to her music; I will acknowledge her impulses; I will stand beneath her flag; I will fight in her rànks; and, when I do só, I shall find myself surrounded by the great, the wise, the good, the brave, the noble of every lànd. If I could stand for a moment upon one of your high

mountain-tops, far above all the kingdoms of the civilized world, and there might sée, coming up, one after another, the bravest and wisest of the ancient warriors, and statesmen, and kings, and mónarchs, and priests; and íf, as they came úp, I might be permitted to ask from them an expression of opinion upon such a case as this, with a common vòice and in thunder tònes, reverberating through a thousand valleys, and èchoing down the ages, they would cry: "Liberty, Freedom, the Universal Brotherhood of Man!" I join that shòut; I swell that ànthem; I echo that praise FOREVER, and FOR EVERMORE.

COL. E. D. BAKER.

7. THE VOICES OF THE DEAD.

1. The world is filled with the voices of the dead. They speak not from the public records of the great world only, but from the private history of our own expérience. They speak to us | in a thousand remémbrances, in a thousand incidents, évents, and associations. They speak to us, not only from their silent gráves, but from the throng of life. Though they are invisible, yet life is filled with their prèsence. They are with us by the silent fireside and in the secluded chamber. They are with us in the paths of society, and in the crowded assemblies of mèn.

2. They speak to us | from the lonely wáy-side; and they speak to us from the venerable walls | that echo to the steps of a múltitude | and to the voice of prayer. Go where we will, the déad | are with us. We live, we convèrse with those who once lived and conversed | with us. Their well-remembered tone | mingles with the whispering breeze, with the sound of the falling leaf, with the jubilee shout of the spring-time. The earth is filled with their shadowy tràin.