575. Stability of position, facility of change, and general grace of action, depend on the right use of the feet; [see the engravings of them,] the motions of children are graceful, because prompted by nature: see how the different passions affect their countenances; what a pity they are not kept on in this way, without being led by their teachers into captivity to bad habits. Keep your mind collected and composed; guard against bashfulness, which will wear off by opposition. One generally has confidence in doing anything with whose manner he is familiar. Assurance

is attained by-1, entirely mastering your subject,
and a consciousness that what you have to deliv-
er is worth hearing-2, by wholly engaging in it,
mind intent on it, and heart warmed with it: nev-
er be influenced by approbation or disapproba-
tion; master yourself; but how can you unless
you know yourself?

Think'st thou there are no serpents in the world,
But those, which slide along the grassy sod,
And sting the luckless foot, that presses them?
There are, who, in the path of social life,
Do bask their spotted skins-in Fortune's sun,
And sting the soul-ay, till its healthful frame
Is chang'd to secret, festering, sore disease-
So deadly-is the wound.

576. Look at the limbs of a willow tree, gently
and variously waving before the breeze, cutting
curved lines, which are lines of beauty; and cul-
tivate a graceful, easy, flowing and forcible ges-
ticulation. Adapt your action, as well as vocal
powers, to the occasion and circumstances-the
action to the word, and the word to the action. A
young speaker may be more various than an old
one. Do not act words instead of ideas; i. e. not
make gestures to correspond, when you speak of
anything small, low, up, large, &c. Let the voice,
countenance, mien, and gesture, conspire to drive
home to the judgment and heart, your impassion-
ed appeals, cogent arguments, strong conclusions,
and deep convictions. Let Nature, guided by
science, be your oracle, and the voice of unso-
phistocated feeling your monitor. Fill your soul
with the mighty purpose of becoming an orator,
and turn aside from no labor, shrink from no ef-
fort, that are essential to the enterprise.
made men are the glory of the world.

Anecdote. Somewhere. One gentleman
riding in a stage-coach, with another, ob
served to him," Sir, I think, I have seen
you somewhere." "I presume you have, Sir,"
"for I have been there ve-
replied the other;
ry often."

Brute force-may crush the heart, but cannot kill;
The mind, that thinks, no terrors can compel;
But it will speak at length, and boldly tell

The world its weakness, and its rights; the night
Our race so long has grop'd through, since man fell
From his imagin'd Eden of delight,
Must, will, ere long, retire from Truth's fast dawi
ing light.

Varieties. 1. Mind may act on mind, though bodies be far divided. 2. A bold man, or a fool must be he, who would change his lot with another. 3. A wise man,-scorneth nothing, be it ever so small or homely. 4. Mind-is a perpetual motion; for it is a running stream, from an unfathomable source, the depth of the DIVINE INTELLIGENCE. 5. Nature is the chart of God, mapping out all his attributes; Art-the shadow of his wisdom, and copieth his resources. 6. In a dream, thou mayest live a lifetime, and all be forgotten in the morning. 7. A letter timely writ, is a rivet to the chain of affection. 8. As frost to the bud, and blight to the blossom, even such is self-interest to friendship. 9. Confidence cannot dwell where selfishness is porter at the gate. 10. Those hours are not lost, that are spent in cementing affection. 11. Character-is mainly modeled, by the cast of the minds that surround it. 12. The company a man choos eth, is a visible index of his heart.

A drainless shower
Of light-is poesy; 'tis the supreme of power;
Tis MIGHT slumbering on its own right arm.
A generous mind, though sway'd awhile by passion,
Is like the steely vigor of the bow,
Self-Still holds its native rectitude, and bends
But to recoil more forceful.

Man-is a harp, whose chords dude the sight;
Each yielding harmony, disposed aright:
The screws reversed,

Ten thonsand thousand strings at once go loose,-
Lost, till he tune them, all their power and use.
I have read the instructed volume,
Of human nature; there, long since, have learned,
The way to conquer men-is by their possions:
Catch-but the ruling foible of their hearts,
And all their boasted virtues-shrink-before you.
577. EDUCATION-is a companion, which
no misfortune can suppress, no clime des-
troy--no enemy alienate--no despotism en-
slave. At home-a friend, abroad-an in-
troduction, in solitude a solace, in society,
an ornament. It lessens vice, it guards vir-
tue; it gives, at once, a grace and govern-
ment to genius. Without it, what is man?
a splendid slave a reasoning savage! va-
cillating, between the dignity of an intelli-
gence derived from God, and the degradation
or brutal passion.

It is a note

Of upstart greatness-to observe and watch
For those poor trifles, which the noble mind-
Neglects, and seorms.

Great minds, like Heaven, are pleased in doing
Though th' ungrateful subjects of their favors [good,
Are barren in return.

Cowards-are scar'd with threat'nings; boys are
Into confessions; but a steady mind [whipp'd
Acts of itself,-ne'er asks the body counsel.
The mind-is full

Of curious changes, that perplex itself,
Just like the visible world; and the heart-ebbs
Like the great sea; first flows, and then retires,
And on the passions doth the spirit ride,
Through sunshine—and in rain, from good-to ill
Then to deep vice, and so on-back to virtue;
Till, in the grave, that universal calm,
We sleep--the sleep of death.
Virtue, while 't is free from blame,
Is modest, lowly, meek, and unassuming;
Not apt, like fearful vice, to shield its weakness
Beneath the studied pomp of boastful phrase,
Which swells, to hide the poverty it shelters;
But, when this virtue-feels itself suspected,
Insulted, set at nought, its whiteness stain'd,
It then grows proud, forgets its humble worth,
And rates itself-above its real value.

A brain of feathers, and a heart of lead

878. SUGGESTIONS. The author is aware, | of the prevalence of the pride of science in from experience, that there are many things the literary world. 3. The true christian has tending to discourage a new beginner in de- no confidence in mere feelings, or in that clamation; one is, a consciousness of his sort of good, which, being without truth, its own awkwardness; which teaches us the appointed guide and protector, is transient importance of knowing how to do a thing, and inoperative. before attempting it in the presence of others. Let him select a short, and ordinary piece, first, and commit it perfectly to memory, and be sure that he understands every word of the author. Never appear in an improper dress; let your clothing be clean and neat, and properly adjusted to the body; neither too loose, nor too tight. Never be influenced, one way or another, by what your companions may say, or do; be your own master, and feel determined to succeed; at the same time, you may be as modest and unassuming as you please, the more so the better: let your subject and object be to you ALL IN ALL.

Applause

Waits on success: the fickle multitude,
Like the light straw, that floats along the stream,
Glide with the current still, and follow fortune.
Men judge actions-always by events:
But, when we manage, by a just forsesight,
Success-is prudence, and possession--right.

579. OUR BOOK. In this abridged outline of the Principles of Elocution, the author has endeavored to appreciate the age and state of those, who will be likely to read, or study the work; for it is designed for both purposes; and if the reader, or student, shall experience a tithe of the pleasure in rightly using it, as the author has in writing it, his aspirations will be fully realized. The more these subjects are examined, and their principles applied to practice, the more will it be seen and felt, that no one can become a GOOD ELOCUTIONIST, unless he studies BODY and MIND, MATTER and SPIRIT; and makes the results his own, by actual appropriation; science and art, theory and practice, must go hand in hand, to develop and perfect us for EARTH

or HEAVEN.

If you did know-to whom I gave the ring,

If you did know-for whom I gave the ring,
And would conceive for what I gave the ring,
And how unwillingly--I left the ring,
When nought would be accepted--but the ring,
You would abate the strength of your displeasure.
As travelers-oft look back, at eve,

When eastward-darkly going,
To gaze upon that light-they leave,
Sall faint behind them-glowing,-
So, when the close of pleasure's day-
To gloom hath near consign'd us,
We turn--to catch one fading ray
Of joy, that's left behind us.

Miscellaneous. 1. A wise man-is willing to profit by the errors of others; because he does not, under the impulse of pride, condemn and despise them; but, while his judg. ment-disapproves, his heart-pities them. 2. It is the constant tendency of man, when in a perverted state of the will, and according o the state of such perversion, to make the reason, or understanding, everything, and to pay little or no attention to the state of the affections; and also to regulate his actions more by external, than internal considerations; this state and tendency is the cause

Anecdote. A Wise Decision. Eliza Ambert, a young Parisian lady, resolutely dis carded a gentlman, to whom she was to have been married, because he ridiculed religion. Having given him a gentle reproof, he replied, "that a man of the world could not be so old fashioned, as to regard God and religion" Eliza started; but, on recovering herself, said, "From this moment, sir, when I discover that you do not regard religion, I cease to be yours. He, who does not love and honor God, can never love his wife, constantly and sincerely."

Yes, love indeed is light from Heaven;

A spark of that immortal fire
With angels shared, by Alla given,

To lift from earth our low desire
Devotion wafts the mind above,
But Heaven itself descends in love;
A feeling from the Godhead caught,
To wean from self each sordid thought;
A ray of him who form'd the whole;
A glory circling round the soul!
Varieties. 1. Neglect not time present;
despair not of time past; never despair. 2.
Infamy-is where it is received. If thou art
a mud wall, it will stick,-if marble, it will
rebound. If thou storm at it, it is thine; if
3. Ridiculo
thou contemn it,-it is gone.
seems to dishonor, worse than dishonor itself.
4. It is heaven, on earth, to have the mind
move in charity, rest in Providence, and turn
without finding a friend, in whose under
on the truth. 5. A long life may be passed
standing and virtue, we can equally confide,
and whose opinion we can value at once for
its justice and sincerity. 6. A weak man,
however honest, is not qualified to judge. 7.
A man of the world, however penetrating, is
not fit to counsel. 8. What is the great, es-
sential evil of intemperance? The voluntary
extinction of reason. 9. What breaks the
heart of the drunkard's wife? It is not, that
he is poor; but, that he is a drunkard. 10.
How shall we arrest, how suppress this great
inwardly, and outwardly; by giving strength
evil? To rescue men, we must act on them
within, to withstand the temptation, and re
move the temptation without.

Thou sun, (said I,) fair light!

And thou enlightened earth, so fresh, and gay;
Ye hills, and dales, ye rivers, woods and plains,
And ye, that live and move, fair creatures, tell,
Tell—if you know, how came I thus; how here?
Flowers are the alphabet of angels, whereby
They write on hills, and fields, mysterious truths.
Riches, like insects, when concealed, they lie,
Wait but for their wings, and in their season, fly.

N. B. The latter part of the work is much abridged, and por tons of the original matter omitted, to make more room for the Readings and Recitations, and still keep the book, within what

are deemed proper limits: this will rationally account for its in. coherency, as well as brevity.-One more last word to the pup FEEL RIGHT-THINK RIGHT, AND ACT RIGHT, AND YOU SHALL BECOME ALL THAT YOU ARE CAPABLE of, AND ALL THAT YƆU CAN DESIRE.

Notes. In these exercises, there is a continual recurrence of the preceding principles, and all designed for thinkers and workers. As there are no such things as TIME and SPACE beLonging to the mind, the nearer we approach to their annihilation, the more readily can we memorize: for which reason small type are used; and also variety, for the purpose of assisting in the preservation of the sight, and maintaining our independence of spectacles: in consideration of which, it should be observed, that books must be read, by varying their distances from the eyes; sometimes quite near, at others farther off: also practice the sight in looking at surrounding objects, in their proper positions from

nearest to farthest.

580. IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. Among various excellent arguments-for the immortality of the soul, there is one drawn from the perpetual progress of the soul to its perfection, without a possibility of ever arriving at it.

man,

How can it enter into the thoughts of that the soul, which is capable of such immense perfections, and of receiving new improvements to all eternity, shall fall away into nothing, almost as soon as it is created? Are such abilities made for no purpose? A brute arrives at a point of perfection that he can never pass in a few years, he has all the endowments he is capable of; and, were he to live ten thousand more, would be the same thing he is at present.

591. FANC'IED INFALLIBILITY. When man has looked about him, as far as he can, he concludes there is no more to be seen; when he is at the end of his line, he is at the bottom of the ocean; when he has shot his best, he is sure none ever did, nor ever can shoot better, or beyond it; his own reason is the certain measure of truth; his own knowledge, of what is possible in nature; though his mind and his thoughts, change every seven years, as well as his strength and his features: nay, though his opinions change every week or every day, yet he is sure, or at least confident, that his present thoughts and conclusions are just and true, and cannot be deceived.

OUR TOILS AND THEIR REWARD.

He, who ascends to mountain-tops, shall find
The loftiest peaks, most wrapt in clouds, and
He, who surpasses, or subdues mankind, [snow;
Must look down on the hate, of those below.
Though high above, the sun of glory glow,

And far beneath, the earth and ocean spread;
Round him, are icy rocks, and loudly blow

Contending tempests, on his naked head, [led. And thus, reward the toils, which to those summits

582. PARTS OF THE WHOLE. This sun, Man does not seem born to enjoy life, but with all its attendant planets, is but a very to deliver it down to others. This is not sur- little part of the grand machine of the uniprising to consider in animals, which are verse; every star, though no bigger in apformed for our use, and can finish their busi-pearance than the diamond, that glitters ness in a short life. The silk-worm, after hav- on a lady's ring, is really, a vast globe, like ing spun her task, lays her eggs, and dies. the sun in size, and in glory; no less spaBut a man-can never have taken in his full cious, no less luminous, than the radiant measure of knowledge, has not time to sub-source of the day: so that every star is not due his passions, establish his soul in virtue, and come up to the perfection of his nature, before he is hurried off the stage.

Would an infinitely wise Being- -make such glorious creatures for so mean a purpose? Can he delight in the production of such abortive intelligences, such short-lived reasonable beings? Would he give us talents, that are not to be exerted? capacities that are never to be gratified?

How can we find that wisdom, which shines through all his works, in the formation of man, without looking on this world as only a nursery for the next, and believing, that the several generations of rational creatures, which rise up and disappear, in such quick successions, are only to receive their first rudiments of existence here, and afterwards, to be transplanted into a more friendly climate, where they may spread, and flourish-to all eternity? Addison.

VIRTUOUS FRIENDSHIP.

Is aught so fair,
In all the dewy landscapes of the spring,
In the bright eye of Hesper, or the morn;
In nature's fairest forms,-is aught so fair
As virtuous friendship? as the candid blush
Of him who strives with fortune to be just?
The graceful tear, that streams for others' woes?
Or the mild majesty of private life,

Where peace, with ever-blooming olive, crowns
The gate? where honor's liberal hands effuse
Unenvied treasures, and the snowy wings
Of innocence and love, protect the scene?
That-I spent,-that-I had;
That-1 gave,-that--I have;
That-left-that-I lost

barely a world, out the centre of a magnifi cent system; has a retinue of worlds irradia ted by its beams, and revolving round its at› tractive influence,-all which are lost to our sight, in unmeasurable wilds of ether.

SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY.

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes, and starry skies;
And all that's best, of dark and bright,
Meet in her aspect, and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light,
Which heaven, to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace,
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts, serenely sweet, express
How pure, how dear, their dwelling place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days, in goodness spent,

A mind at peace, with all below,
A heart, whose love, is innocent!
Men-are made to bend
Before the mighty, and to follow on
Submissive, where the great may lead-the grea
Whose might-is not in crowns and palaces,
In parchment-rolls, or blazon'd heraldry,
But in the power of thought, the energy

Of unsupported mind, whose steady will
No force can daunt, no tangled path divert
From its right onward purpose.

Will he be idle, who has much ' enjoy?

587. OUR COUNTRY. And let the sa- 588. MORAL EFFECTS OF INTEMPERANCA cred obligations which have devolved on The sufferings of animal nature, occasioned this generation, and on us, sink deep into by intemperance, are not to be compared with our hearts. Those are daily dropping from the moral agonies, which convulse the soul. among us, who established our liberty and It is an immortal being, who sins, and suffers; our government. The great trust now des- and, as his earthly house dissolves, he is ap cends to new hands. Let us apply our-proaching the judgment-seat, in anticipation selves to that which is presented to us, as of a miserable eternity. He feels his capti our appropriate object. We can win no lau- vity, and, in anguish of spirit, clanks his rels in a war for independence. Earlier and chain, and cries for help. Conscience thunworthier hands have gathered them all. Nor ders, remorse goads, and, as the gulph opens are there places for us by the side of Solon, before him, he recoils, and trembles, and and Alfred, and other founders of states. weeps, and prays, and resolves, and proOur fathers have filled them. But there re-mises, and reforms, and "seeks it yet again;" mains to us a great duty of defence and preservation; and there is opened to us, also, a noble pursuit, to which the spirit of the times strongly invites us. Our proper business is improvement. Let our age be the age of improvement. In a day of peace, let us advance the arts of peace, and the works of peace; let us develop the resources of our land; call forth its powers, build up its institutions, promote all its great interests, and see whether we also, in our day and generation, may not perform something worthy to be remembered. Let us cultivate a true spirit of union and harmony. In pursuing the great objects which our condition points out to us, let us act under a settled conviction, and an habitual feeling, that these twenty-six states are one country. Let our conceptions be enlarged to the circle of our duties. Let us extend our ideas over the whole of the vast field in which we are called to act. Let our object be, our country, our whole country, and nothing but our country. And, by the blessing of God, may that country itself become a vast and splendid monument, not of oppression and terror, but of wisdom, of peace, and of liberty, upon which the world may gaze with admiration forever.-Webster.

DISAPPOINTED AMBITION.

In full-blown dignity-see Wolsey stand,
Law-in his voice, and fortune-in his hand; [sign;
To him, the church, the realm, their powers con-
Through him, the rays of regal bounty shine;
Turn'd by his nod, the stream of honor flows;
His smile alone, security bestows.

again resolves, and weeps, and prays, and
"seeks it yet again!" Wretched man! he
has placed himself in the hands of a giant,
who never pities, and never relaxes his iron
gripe. He may struggle, but he is in chains.
He may cry for release, but it comes not;
and lost! lost! may be inscribed on the door
posts of his dwelling. In the meantime, these
paroxysms of his dying nature decline, and
a fearful apathy, the harbinger of spiritual
death, comes on. His resolution fails, and
his mental energy, and his vigorous enter-
prise; and nervous irritation and depression
ensue. The social affections lose their full-
ness and tenderness, and conscience loses its
power, and the heart its sensibility, until all
that was once lovely, and of good report, re-
tires and leaves the wretch, abandoned to
the appetites of a ruined animal. In this de-
plorable condition, reputation expires, busi-
ness falters, and becomes perplexed, and
temptations to drink multiply, as inclination
to do so increases, and the power of resistance
declines. And now the vortex roars, and the
struggling victim buffets the fiery wave, with
feebler stroke, and warning supplication, un-
til despair flashes upon his soul, and, with an
outcry, that pierces the heavens, he ceases to
strive, and disappears.-Beecher.

THE DESTRUCTION OF SENACHERIB.
The Assyrian came down, like a wolf-on the fold,
And his cohorts-were gleaming-in purple, and gold;
And the sheen of his spears-was like stars-on the sea,
When the blue wave-rolls nightly, on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest-when summer is green,
That host, with their banners, at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown,
That host, on the morrow lay withered and strown.
For the angel of death-spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe, as he passed;
And the eyes of the sleepers-waxed deadly, and chill,
And their hearts, but once heaved, and forever, were still
And there-lay the steed, with his nostrils all wide,
But through them-there rolled not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping-lay white on the turf,
And cold-as the spray of the rock-beating surf.
And there-lay the rider, distorted, and pale,
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail;
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances-unlifted, the trumpets-unblown.
And the widows of Ashur-are bud in their wail,
And the idols are broke-in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted, like snow, in the glance of the Lord!-Byron
Justice-is as strictly due between neigh
A highwayman is as much a robber, when
he plunders in a gang, as when single, and
a nation, that makes an unjust war, is only
a great gang.

Still, to new heights, his restless wishes tower;
Claim leads to claim, and power advances power;
Till conquest, unresisted, ceased to please,
And rights submitted-left him none to seize.
At length, his sovereign frowns; the train of state
Mark the keen glance, and watch the sign to hate.
Where'er he turns, he meets a stranger's eye;
His suppliants scorn him, and his followers fly.
How drops, at once, the pride of awful state,
The golden canopy, the glittering plate,
The regal palace, the luxurious board,
The liveried army, and the menial lord!
With age, with cares, with maladies oppressed,
He seeks the refuge of monastic rest.
Grief aids disease, remembered folly stings,
And his last sighs-reproach the faith of kings.
Expectation. It is proper for all to re-bor nations, as between neighbor citizens.
member, that they ought not to raise expecta-
tion, which it is not in their power to satisfy,
and that it is more pleasing to see smoke
brightening into flame, than flame-sinking
into smoke.

Frailty--thy name is Man; the earth-waits her king.
Brailty-thy name is Woman; the earth-waits ber queen.

True happiness-is to no place confined:
But still is found--in a contented mind