As huge and as strong as Stone-henge, And then, with sword, fire, and halter, And hark, the deep voices replying From the graves where your fathers are lying, f By the tombs of your sires and brothers, And hark, the deep voices replying From the graves where your fathers are lying, On mounds which are wet with the weeping, By Winthrop, a star among heroes, By the blood of our murdered McCook Swear! And hark, the deep voices replying From graves where your fathers are lying, "Swear, oh, Swear!" a Bold address; orotund; with firmness; radical emphasis. b Orotund; full force; with energy. c Aspirate; as if listening. d Very low pitch; orotund; full force; sepulchral tone. e Same as first stanza; with more feeling; intense force. f Lower pitch; tremor quality on sires and brothers. g Moderate pitch; determined utterance; orotund and guttural voice. So vary the reading to the close. IV. RESPONSE TO THREATS. MR. CHAIRMAN: It has been declared here, by some of the ablest speakers from the South, that the success of our party--which seeks to do nothing that may not be clearly done within the protection and under the authority of the Constitution which they profess to admire and venerate—will compel them to withdraw from this Union of sovereign States. I have no desire to discuss a statement which always when made assumes the attitude of a threat. But do you not see, gentlemen, that to make such a threat is to render certain of success, beyond the peradventure of defeat, the party you threaten? The Republican party proposes to ascertain whether the Union is not strong enough to sustain an administration which will rest upon the theory of our Constitution, and upon the foundation which the fathers laid. You may shatter, if you can, this fair fabric of our freedom; you may make desolate the temple, and strike down the statue; but the terrible responsibility will rest upon yourselves. In the earlier ages of the world, within one of the old temples of Memnon, a colossal statue had been erected; and it was said that, daily, in the morning, as the rays of the sun fell upon the image, sounds of sweet music went from it to inspirit and encourage the votaries at the shrine. But an Egyptian king caused the statue to be shattered and the music to be hushed, that he might find whence the strains proceeded, and whether the priests within the temple had not deceived the people. Sir, upon this land our fathers reared their temple, and within it the colossal statue of liberty has stood. Not in the morning alone, but at high noon, and at set of sun, day after day, sounds of heavenly harmony have gone from it, calling upon the oppressed and down-trodden to come, and to be free. Rude hands have been laid upon that temple; hard southern blows have fallen upon the statue; but when, if ever, the power shall come that will shatter the edifice and lay the colossal image low, in order that the mystery may be revealed, it will be found, I believe, in the providence of God, that other hands will rebuild and reconsecrate them both; but no Washington, nor Jefferson, nor Madison, nor Hamilton, nor such like artificers, will be commissioned for the work, until that institution, which dishonors man and debases labor, and steals from the stooping brow the sweat which should earn his bread, shall be forever overthrown.- Hon. Thomas D. Eliot, 1860. V. TWENTY YEARS AGO. I've wandered to the village | Tom; I've sat beneath the tree, The grass was just as green, Tom | bare-footed boys at play, The school house has altered some-the benches are replaced The boys were playing some old game, beneath that same old tree; The river's running just as still, the willows on its side, Are larger than they were, Tom; the stream appears less wide; But the grape-vine swing is ruined now, where once we played the beau, The spring that bubbled 'neath the hill, close by the spreading beech Near by the spring, upon an elm, you know I cut your name, Your sweet-heart's just beneath it, Tom, and you did mine the same; Some heartless wretch has peeled the bark, 't was dying sure but slow, My lids have long been dry, Tom | but tears came in my eyes; Some are in the church-yard laid- some sleep beneath the sea; Ladies and gentlemen, Mr I hear a loud protest against war. Chairman,—there is a small band in our country and in yours—] wish their number were quadrupled-who have borne a solemn and painful testimony against all wars, under all circumstances; and although I differ with them on the subject of defensive warfare yet when men that rebuked their own land, and all lands, now rebuke us, though I cannot accept their judgment, I bow with profound respect to their consistency. But excepting them I regard this British horror of the American war as something wonderful. Why it is a phenomenon in itself! On what shore has not the prow of your ships dashed? What land is there with a name and a people where your banner has not led your soldiers? And when the great resurrection reveille shall sound, it will muster British soldiers from every clime and people under the whole heaven. Ah! but it is said this is a war against your own blood. How long is it since you poured soldiers into Canada, and let all your yards work night and day to avenge the taking of two men out of the Trent? Old Eng land shocked at a war of principle! She gained her glories in such a war. Old England ashamed of a war of principle! Her national ensign symbolizes her history-the cross in a field of blood. And will you tell us who inherit your blood, your ideas, and your pluck that we must not fight? The child must heed the parents until the parents get old and tell the child not to do the thing that in early life they whipped him for not doing. And then the child says, father and mother are getting too old; they had better be taken away from their present home and come to live with us. Perhaps you think there is coal enough. Perhaps you think the stock is not quite run out yet; but whenever England comes to that state that she does not go to war for principle, she had better emigrate, and we will get room for her. VII. THE COLORED SOLDIERS. H. W. BEECHER, -1863. I thank God that while we were striving for the rights of manhood in colored men, He by His providence, that is so much wiser than the wisdom of the wisest, has led them to demonstrate what we are trying to prove-and to demonstrate it so as to meet just that apprehension which needs to be met. The colored soldiers that have been regimented and taken to the field, by their courage, by their docility, by their good conduct in the most fiery trials, have shown that they were men. I am sorry that so large a part of human society yet live so low that the capacity of a man to show the courage of an animal is the best test that he is a man; but it is so! There is nothing that will make the common people so sympathize with the black man as to know that he fights well. He does fight well, and he is a man because he fights well! War is not thought to be a civilizer, yet men may have been held so low that even war is elevation—and so it has been with the colored people. They go up a great way before they have a right to touch the sword; and when they have taken their lives in their hands, and, with enthusiasm inspiring their hearts, have hewn their way on the rocky path to |