No more ;-and, by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to;-'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd! To die ;-to sleep ;-
To sleep? perchance to dream;-aye, there's the rub
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause!

2. There's the respect

3.

That makes calamity of so long life;

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin?

Who would fardels bear,
To groan and sweat under a weary life;
But that the dread of something after death,-
The undiscover'd country, from whose bourne
No traveller returns,-puzzles the will;
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.-

4. Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn away,
And lose the name of action.

Hamlet's Soliloquy is, as has been well observed, "one of the most difficult things to read in the English language." It requires nice discrimination, as well as great powers of elocution. It is one of Shakspeare's most admirable productions. It does not, however, teach us a useful moral lesson. Hamlet ought to have been deterred from self-destruction, by considerations of duty to himself, his fellow-citizens, and his God. The doctrine of expediency, by which he appears to have been governed, is a • doctrine not of Christ; it is practical atheism. Hamlet ought to have been governed, not by expediency, but by principle by Christian morality The soliloquy can be read or recited well, only by those who both per

fectly understand, and thoroughly feel, the sentiments which it contains. It should be commenced deliberately, on a middle key. The indignant feeling with which the prince enumerates particulars, "The oppressor's wrongs," &c. requires the voice gradually to rise on each. The concluding part of the soliloquy, requires quantity, and rather slow time.

64. SPEECH OF KING RICHARD III.-Shakspeare.
1. Give me another horse-bind up my wounds,-
Have mercy, Jesu !-Soft; I did but dream.
O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!—
The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight.
Cold,-fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh.
What do I fear? myself? there's none else by,—
Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I.

2. Is there a murderer here? No:-Yes; I am.

Then fly.--What, from myself! Great reason,--Why?
Lest I revenge. What? Myself on myself?

I love myself. Wherefore? for any good

That I myself have done unto myself?
O, no: alas! I rather hate myself,
For hateful deeds committed by myself.

3. I am a villain! Yet I lie, I am not.

Fool! of thyself speak well :-Fool, do not flatter.
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
And every tongue brings in a several tale,
And every tale condemns me for a villain.
Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree:
Murder, stern murder, in the direst degree;
All several sins, all us'd in each degree,
Throng to the bar, crying all-Guilty! guilty!

4. I shall despair.-There is no creature loves me;
And, if I die, no soul will pity me;—

Nay, wherefore should they? since that I myself
Find in myself no pity to myself.

Methought the souls of all that I had murder'd
Came to my tent; and every one did threat
To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard.

This speech of King Richard is, in the author's opinion, not merely one of the most difficult pieces to read or recite in our language, but the most difficult. It was made on Bosworth field, when Shakspeare's spectral illusions of King Richard's murdered victims, called ghosts, appeared to him, the shade of each of whom, pointed towards him, with a clay-cold, but unerring hand, and cried, in a voice which harrowed up his soul: "Thou art my murderer, despair and die." When the ghost vanished, he started out of his dream, and made the above speech, in which he acknowledges himself to have been a villain and a murderer. His name is, as Queen Anne predicted it would be, a by-word for tyranny."

His speech should be commenced abruptly, and on a high key. The voice should fall to a low note on the second line. The fifth line, "Cold, fearful drops," &c. requires slow time and quantity. The questions which he puts to himself, require rising inflections; the answers he makes, falling inflections. Those portions of his speech in which he speaks of his crimes, require a high key, and great energy.

65. THERE'S NOTHING TRUE BUT HEAVEN.-Thomas Moore.

1. This world is all a fleeting show,
For man's illusion given;
The smiles of joy, the tears of wo,
Deceitful shine, deceitful flow-

There's nothing true but Heaven.

2. And false the light on glory's plume,
As fading hues of even;
And love, and hope, and beauty's bloom
Are blossoms gathered for the tomb-
There's nothing bright but Heaven.

3. Poor wanderers of a stormy day,

From wave to wave we're driven;
And fancy's flash, and reason's ray,
Serve but to light the troubled way—
There's nothing calm but Heaven.

The writer has only to say to the reader in reference to these two pieces-65 and 66-" look first on this" beautiful poem, "and then on

that," and read or recite them both on a low key, with quantity, and with rhetorical pauses after uttering each of the six italicised words.

66. HEAVEN.-Anonymous.

1. This world's not "all a fleeting show,
For man's illusion given-"

He that hath sooth'd a widow's wo,
Or wip'd an orphan's tear, doth know
There's something here of Heaven.

2. And he that walks life's thorny way
With feelings calm and even,
Whose path is lit, from day to day,
By virtue's bright and steady ray,
Hath something felt of Heaven.

3. He that the Christian's course hath run,
And all his foes forgiven,

Who measures out life's little span
In love to God, and love to man,
On earth hath tasted Heaven.

67. RELIGION.-Rev. Alva Wood.

1. While we are disposed to allow, to their full extent, the pleasures of literary pursuit, and the important advantages of intellectual illumination, it must be confessed, that man has wants which nothing can supply, and woes which nothing can relieve, but the sanative influence of religion.

2. What can moderate anger, resentment, malice, or revenge, like the thought, that we may ask God to forgive our trespasses, only as we forgive the trespasses of others? What can quiet murmurings at our lot, like the deep sense of moral demerit, which the gospel presses on the conscience? What can cool the burnings of envy, or allay the passion for renown, like a remembrance of the transitory nature of all human glory.

3. What can produce resignation to the loss of friends, like a confident hope of meeting them soon in a brighter world? What can prompt to deeds of benevolence, like the example

of Him, who, though he was rich, for our sakes, became poor? Is there any thing which can give steadiness to purpose, or stability to character, like an unwavering regard to the will of God?

4. Considerations of mere worldly policy, or interest, furnish no steady magnetic influence to give one uniform direction to all the plans and actions of life. Patriotism may fire the spirit with valor, to sustain the onset of an invading foe, and bare the breast to the rushing tide of war; but who can meet with unruffled temper, the thousand petty ills that life is heir to, like him whose aim is heaven?

5. What sublimity, like moral sublimity, whether we regard the grandeur, or permanency of its effects? What more sublime than the triumph of a dying Christian when, in the midst of its decaying and crumbling habitation, the spirit plumes itself for its lofty flight, and departs in the buoyancy of hope, for the regions of eternal day? These are the gifts of Christianity.

6. But it is on man, in his social capacities, and political relations, that moral principle is destined to exert its most important influence. It is in society that man has power. It is in society, that virtue developes its benevolent tendencies, and that vice scatters fire-brands, arrows, and death. Has the example of 'vice wrought powerfully? so has that of virtue. Have many been beguiled to their destruction by the enticings of the sinful? multitudes have been allured by the persuasions of the good, to fairer worlds on high.

This extract is from the Rev. Mr. Wood's discourse at his inauguration, as president of the Transylvania University, October 13, 1828. He succeeded Dr. Holley.

68. GOD'S INCOMPREHENSIBILITY.Dr. Chalmers.

1. While the spirituality of God's nature places him beyond the reach of our direct cognizance, there are certain other essential properties of his nature, which place him beyond the reach of our possible comprehension. Let me instance the past eternity of the Godhead. One might figure a futurity that never ceases to flow, and which has no termina