And when they were gone aside, they talked between themselves, saying: This man doeth nothing worthy of death or of bonds. Then said Agrippa unto Festus: This man might have been set at liberty, if he had not appealed unto Cæsar.

XLIII.

HENRY V. TO HIS TROOPS.

FROM SHAKSPEARE.

[THIS lesson requires a high key.]

1. ONCE more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility;

But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then, imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews`, summon up the blood`;
Disguise fair nature with hard-favor'd rage:
Then, lend the eye a terrible aspect;

Let it pry through the portage of the head,
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it,
As fearfully as doth a galled rock

O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean,

2. Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit
To its full hight! On, on, you noble English!
Whose blood is set from fathers of war-proof;
Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders,
Have, in these parts, from morn till even, fought,
And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument;
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,

Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear

That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble luster in your eyes.
I see you start like grayhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot`;
Follow your spirit: and, upon this charge,
Cry-God for Harry! England! and St. George!

FROM POPE'S TRANSLATION OF HOMER.

ALEXANDER POPE was born in London, in 1688, and received an excellent private education. His whole life was devoted to literary pursuits, and he soon became the first poet of his day. He died at Twickenham, in 1744.

1. THEN god-like Hector and his troops contend

To force the ramparts and the gates to rend;

Nor Troy could conquer, nor the Greeks would yield,
Till great Sarpedon tower'd amid the field.

In arms he shines, conspicuous from afar,

And bears aloft his ample shield in air,

And while two pointed javelins arm his hands,

Majestic moves along, and leads his Lycian bands.

2. (1) So, press'd with hunger, from the mountain brow
Descends a lion on the flocks below;

So, stalks the lordly savage o'er the plain,
In sullen majesty and stern disdain.
In vain loud mastiffs bay him from afar,
And shepherds gall him with an iron war;
Regardless, furious, he pursues his way,

He foams, he roars, he rends the panting prey.

3. Unmoved, the embodied Greeks their fury dare,
And fix'd, support the weight of all the war`;
Nor could the Greeks repel the Lycian powers,
Nor the bold Lycians force the Grecian towers`.

4. (1) As, on the confines of adjoining grounds,

Two stubborn swains with blows dispute their bounds;
They tug, they sweat; but neither gain nor yield
One foot, one inch of the contested field:
Thus, obstinate to death, they fight, they fall`;
Nor these can keep ́, nor those can win the wall.
Their manly breasts are pierced with many a wound,
Loud strokes are heard, and rattling arms resound;
The copious slaughter covers all the shore,
And the high ramparts drop with human gore.

5. (1) As when two scales are charged with doubtful loads,
From side to side the trembling balance nods,

(While some laborious matron, just and poor,
With nice exactness weighs her woolly store),

Till, pois'd aloft, the resting beam suspends
Each equal weight; nor this, nor that descends.
So stood the war, till Hector's matchless might
With fates prevailing, turn'd the scale of fight.

6. (h) Fierce as a whirlwind up the walls he flies,
And fires his hosts with loud repeated cries:
Advance, ye Trojans! lend your valiant hands`,
Haste to the fleet, and toss the blazing brands!
They hear, they run`; and gathering at his call,
Raise scaling engines, and ascend the wall:
Around the works a wood of glittering spears
Shoots up, and all the rising host appears.

7. A ponderous stone bold Hector heav'd to throw,
Pointed above, and rough and gross below:
Not two strong men the enormous weight could raise,
Such men as live in these degenerate days.

Yet this as easy as a swain could bear

The snowy fleece, he toss'd and shook in air:
Thus arm'd, before the folded gates he came,
Of massy substance, and stupendcus frame;
With iron bars and brazen hinges strong,
On lofty beams of solid timber hung:

Then, thundering through the planks with forceful sway,
Drives the sharp rock`; the solid beams give way`,
The folds are shatter'd`; from the crackling door
Leap the resounding bars, the flying hinges roar.

8. Now rushing in, the furious chief appears,
Gloomy as night, and shakes two shining spears:
A dreadful gleam from his bright armor came,
And from his eyeballs flash'd the living flame.
He moves a god`, resistless in his course,
And seems a match for more than mortal force.
Then pouring after, through the gaping space,
A tide of Trojans flows, and fills the place;
The Greeks behold, they tremble, and they fly`;

The shore is heap'd with death, and tumult rends the sky.

XLV.

RIENZI'S ADDRESS TO THE ROMANS.

FROM MISS MITFORD.

[THIS Lesson is marked for inflection, emphasis, and modulation, and is an admirable exercise for them all.]

1. I COME not here to talk. You know too well

The story of our thralldom. We are

slaves!

The bright sun rises to his course and lights

A race of slaves! He sets, and his last beams
Fall on a-slave; not such as swept along

By the full tide of power, the conqu❜ror led
To crimson glory and undying fame:

(1) But—base` — ignoble、— slaves; slaves to a horde
Of petty tyrants, feudal despots, lords,
Rich in some dozen paltry villages`;

2.

Strong in some hundred spearmen`; only great
In that strange spell; — a NAME`.

Each hour, dark fraud,

Or open rapine, or protected murder,

Cries out against them. (7) But this very day,
An honest man, my neighbor, there he stands,-

Was struck. -struck like a dog, by one who wore

The badge of Ursini; because, forsooth,

He toss'd not high his ready cap in air,

Nor lifted up his voice in servile shouts,

At sight of that great ruffian! (hh) Be we men ́,

And suffer such dishonor? men ́, and wash not

The stain away in blood? (1) Such shames are common.
I have known deeper wrongs; I that speak to ye,

(l) I had a brother` once ́· a gracious boy,

3.

Full of gentleness, of calmest hope,

Of sweet and quiet joy, — there was the look

-

Of heaven upon his face, which limners give
To the belov'd disciple.

How I lov'd`

That gracious boy! Younger by fifteen years,
Brother at once, and son! He left my side,
A summer bloom on his fair cheek; a smile
Parting his innocent lips. In one short hour,
That pretty, harmless boy was slain! I saw
The cōrse, the mangled corse, and then (h) I cried

For vengeance! (hh) ROUSE, ye ROMANS! ROUSE, ye SLAVES!

Have ye

brave sons?

4.

Look in the next fierce brawl

To see them die. Have ye fair daughters"? Look
To see them live, torn from your arms`, distain'd
Dishonor'd`; and if ye dare call for justice ́,
Be answer'd by the lash.

That sat on her seven hills, and, from her throne
Of beauty, ruled the world! and we are Romans!
(h) Why, in that elder day, to be a Roman,
Was greater than a king!

5.

And once again, –

-

(hh) Hear me, ye walls, that echoed to the tread Of either Brutus ! Once again, I swear, The eternal city shall be free.

XLVI. THE BROKEN HEART. A SKETCH.

FROM IRVING.

WASHINGTON IRVING, born in 1783, is well known as one of the first of American authors, and has written a large number of works. In early life he followed literary pursuits only as an amusement, but meeting with reverses, he devoted himself to literature as a profession. Some years since he purchased an old Dutch Mansion, on the Hudson, which he fitted up, and where he now resides.

1. EVERY one must recollect the tragical story of young Emmet, the Irish patriot; it was too touching to be soon forgotten. His fate made a deep impression on public sympathy. During the troubles in Ireland he was tried, condemned, and executed, on a charge of treason. He was so young, so intelligent, so generous`, so brave, so every thing that we are apt to like in a young man. His conduct under trial, too, was so lofty and intrepid. The noble indignation with which he repelled the charge of treason against his country, the eloquent vindication of his name, and his pathetic appeal to posterity, in the hopeless hour of condemnation, all these entered deeply into every generous bosom`, and even his enemies lamented the stern policy that dictated his execution.

2. But there was one heart, whose anguish it would be impossible to describe. In happier days and fairer fortunes ́, he had won the affections of a beautiful and interesting girl, the