3. "O, I know," replied the sister, "that it is not a popular one; we must all join in the cry of liberty and equality, and bless our stars that we have neither kings nor emperors to rule over us, and that our very first audible squeak was republicanism. If we don't join in the shout, and hang our caps on liberty poles, we are considered monsters. For my part, I am tired of it, and am determined to say what I think. I hate republicanism; I hate liberty and equality; and I don't hesitate to declare, that I am for monarchy. You may laugh, but I would say it at the stake."

4. "Bravo!" exclaimed Horace; "why, you have almost run yourself out of breath, Caroline; you deserve to be prime minister to the king."

5. "You mistake," replied she, with dignity; "I have no wish to mingle in political broils, not even if I could be as renowned as Pitt, or Fox; but I must say, I think our equality is odious. What do you think? To-day, the new chambermaid put her head into the door, and said, 'Caroline! your marm wants you.”

6. "Excellent," said Horace, clapping his hands, and laughing; "I suppose if ours were a monarchical government, she would have bent to the ground, or saluted your little foot, before she spoke."

7. "No, Horace, you know there are no such forms in this country."

8. "May I ask your highness what you would like to be?" 9. "I would like," said she, glancing at the glass, "I would like to be a countess."

10. “O, you are moderate in your ambition; a countess, now-a-days, is the fag-end of nobility."

11. "O! but it sounds so delightfully: The young Countess Caroline!'"

12. "If sound is all, you shall have that pleasure; we will call you the young countess."

13. "That would be mere burlesque, Horace, and would make one ridiculous."

14. "There," replied Horace, "nothing can be more inconsistent with us, than aiming at titles."

15. "For us, I grant you," replied Caroline; "but if they were hereditary, if we had been born to them, if they come to us through belted knights and high-born dames, then we might be proud to wear them. I never shall cease to regret that_I was not born under a monarchy."

16. "You seem to forget," said Horace, "that all are not lords and ladies in royal dominions. Suppose your first squeak, as you call it, had been among the lower class; what then? 17. "I did not mean to take those chances; no, I meant to be born among the higher ranks."

18. "Now, Caroline, is it not better to be born under a government where there are no such ranks, and where the only nobility is talent and virtue?"

19. "Talent and virtue," said Caroline, with a smile; "but I think wealth constitutes our nobility, and the right of abusing each other, our liberty."

20. "You are as fond of aphorisms," said Horace, "as Lavatera was."

21. "Let me ask you," said Caroline, "if our rich men, who ride in their own carriages, who have fine houses, and who count by millions, are not our great men?"

22. "They have all the greatness," said Horace, " that money can buy; but this is very limited."

23. "Well, in my opinion," said Caroline, " money is power." 24. "You mistake," said Horace, " money may be temporary power, but talent is power itself; and, when united with

• Lavater, (John Gasper,) a celebrated physiognomist, born at Zurich, in 1741.

virtue, is God-like power, before which the mere man of millions quails."

25. "Well, Horace," said Caroline, "I really wish you the possession of talent, and principle, and wealth into the bargain. The latter, you think, will follow the two former, simply at your beck; you smile, but I feel as determined in my way of thinking, as you do in yours."

SECTION XV.

Monotone.

MONOTONE is a protracted sameness of sound on successive syllables or words.

Monotone, as here used, does not mean a succession of sounds perfectly similar, but simply that a similarity of tone, with slight modifications, prevails throughout the piece to be read.

RULE 15. Language that is grave, grand, or sublime, generally requires the monotone.

EXAMPLES.

Grave.

1. O,thē grāve! the grave! It būries ēvery error; cōvers every defect; extinguishes ēvery resentment.

2. The bell strikes one. We take nō nōte of tīme

But from its loss.

Is wise in man.

To give it then a tōngue,

As if an angel spōke,

I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright,

It is the knell of my departed hour.

Grand.

Then the earth shook and trembled; the foundations, also, of the hills moved, and were shaken, because he was wroth. There went up a smōke out of his nōstrils, and fire out of his mouth

QUESTIONS. What is monotone? Does it mean a succession of sounds perfectly similar? What is the rule for monotone? Give an example.

devoured.

He bowed the heavens, also, and came down, and darkness was under his feet; and he rōde upon a cherub, and did fly; yea, he did fly upon the wings of the wind.

Sublime.

What hand unseen

Impels me onward, through the glowing orbs

Of habitable nature, fār remote,

To the dread confines of eternal night,
To solitudes of vast, unpeopled space,
The deserts of creation, wide and wild,
Where embryo systems and unkindled suns
Sleep in the womb of chaos? Fancy droops.
And thought, astōnished, stōps her bōld career.

EXERCISE.

1. In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men, fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bōnes to shake. Then a spīrit pāssed befōre my face; the hair of my flesh stood up. It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof; an image was before mine eyes, there was silence, and I heard a voice, saying, Shall mōrtal mān be more just than God? Shall a mān bē mōre pūre than his Maker?

2.

3.

Wide as the world is his command,

Vast as eternity his love;

Firm as a rock his truth shall stānd,
When rolling years shall cease to move.

The high-born sōul
Disdains to rest her heaven aspiring wing,
Beneath its native quarry. Tired of earth
And this diurnal scene, she springs aloft

4.

5.

6.

7.

Thro' fields of air; pursues the flying storm; Rīdes on the volley'd lightning thro' the heavens, Or, yōked with whirlwinds, and the northern bläst, Sweeps the long track of day.

Then high she soars

The blue profound, and hovering round the sun,
Beholds him pouring the redundant stream
Of light; beholds his unrelenting sway
Bend the reluctant planets to absolve
The fated rounds of time.

Thence, far effused,

She darts her swiftness up the long career
Of devious comets. Thro' its burning signs
Exulting, measures the perennial wheel
Of nature, and looks back on all the stars,
Whose blended light, as with a milky zone,
Invests the orient. Now amazed, she views
The empyreal waste, where happy spirits hold,
Beyond this concave heaven, their calm abode.

So spake the Son; and into terror chang'd
His countenance, too severe to be beheld,
And full of wrath bent on his enemies.
At once the four spread out their starry wings,
With dreadful shade contiguous, and the orbs
Of his fierce chariot roll'd, as with the sound
Of torrent floods, or of a numerous host.
He on his impious foes right onward drove,
Gloomy as night. Under his burning wheels,
The steadfast empyrean shook throughout,
All but the throne itself of God.

Full soon

Among them he arrived; in his right hand