festing of the whole nature, the interpretation of truth by human character.

PROBLEM XXIII. In a simple sequence of conceptions, reproduce all the actions of the mind and feeling which would result if we had ourselves been a participant in the events and scenes which are recorded in words.

THE LAUREL-SEED.

A DESPOT gazed on sunset clouds, then sank to sleep amidst the gleam;
Forthwith, a myriad starving slaves must realize his lofty dream.

Year upon year, all night and day, they toiled, they died — and were replaced;
At length, a marble fabric rose, with cloud-like domes and turrets graced.
No anguish of those herds of slaves e'er shook one dome or wall asunder,
Nor wars of other mighty Kings, nor lustrous javelins of the thunder.
One sunny morn a lonely bird passed o'er, and dropt a laurel-seed;
The plant sprang up amidst the walls, whose chinks were full of moss and weed.
The laurel-tree grew large and strong, its roots went searching deeply down;
It split the marble walls of Wrong, and blossomed o'er the Despot's crown.
And in its boughs a nightingale sings to those world-forgotten graves;
And o'er its head a skylark's voice consoles the spirits of the slaves.

THE ELDER BROTHER.

Horne.

A GENTLEMAN of England had two sons, the eldest of whom, eager for adventure, and weary of the restraints of home, obtained his father's permission to go abroad. Ten years later, a traveller, prematurely old, covered with rags and dust, stopped at an inn near the paternal estate. Nobody knew him, although, by his conversation, he appeared to have had some previous acquaintance with the neighborhood. Among other questions, he asked concerning the father of the two sons. he's dead," said the landlord, "been dead these five years, poor old man!-dead and forgotten long ago!"

"Oh,

"And his sons?" said the traveller, after a pause; "I believe he had two.” “Yes, he had, Thomas and James. Tom was the heir, but he was unsteady, had a roving disposition, gave his father no end of trouble. Poor old man! poor old man!" And the landlord, shaking his head sorrowfully, drained a good tankard of his own ale, by way of solace to his melancholy reflections.

The traveller passed a trembling hand over his own pale brow and rough beard, and said again: " But James, the second son, - he isalive?" "You would think so," said the landlord, smacking his lips. "Things have happened well for him: the old man dead; his brother dead too 29 "His brother dead?" said the traveller, with a start.

"Dead, or as good as dead. He went off on his travels ten years ago, and has never been heard of since. So James has come into the estate, and a brave estate it is; and a gay gentleman is James. What! going, sir?" "I beg your pardon," said the traveller, rising, "II bave business with this James."

He proceeded at once to the house of the younger brother, whom he found just mounting his horse at the door of the paternal mansion. James, taking him for a common beggar, repulsed him rudely, when the traveller cried out, in deep agitation : "James! my brother James! Don't you know me? I am your long-lost brother Thomas !" "Thomas! Zounds, Tom!" said James, in utter astonishment. "Where in the name of wonder did you come from?" "The ship in which I sailed fell into the hands of pirates. I was sold as a slave in Algiers. I have but lately made my escape, and begged my way home. O James!" sobbed forth the wretched man, quite overcome by his emotions. "Bless my heart! Is it possible!" said James, by this time recovering from his surprise, and beginning to think that for him to regain a brother was to lose an estate. "I heard you were dead. I have the best evidence that you are dead!—I mean, that my brother Thomas is dead. I don't know you, sir! You must be an impostor, sir! - Dick, send this beggar away 99 ! And without giving the amazed Thomas a chance to remonstrate, or prove the truth of his story, James leaped upon his horse and galloped off.

The elder brother, driven from the house to which he was himself the rightful heir, penniless, and a stranger in his own country, returned to the village, where he endeavored in vain to enlist some old friends of his father in his behalf. His changed appearance justified them in refusing to recognize him; and his brother had now grown to be a man of influence whom they feared to offend. At last, however, he found an honest attorney to credit his story and undertake his cause. "If I win it for you," said he, "you shall give me a thousand pounds. If I fail, I shall expect nothing, as you will have nothing to give. And failure is very likely; for your brother will be exceedingly liberal with your money, and it will be hard to find a judge or jury or witness that he will not be able to bribe. But I will do what I can; and in the mean time I will advance you what money you need to live upon."

Fully satisfied of Thomas's integrity, and moved by his expressions of gratitude to make still greater exertions in his behalf, the attorney resolved to go up to London, and lay the case before Sir Matthew Hale, the Lord Chief Justice of the King's bench,- a man no less conspicuous for his abilities than for his upright and impartial character. Sir

--

Matthew listened with patience to the story, and also to the attorney's suspicions as to the means that would be used to deprive the elder brother of his right. "Go on with the regular process of the law," said he; "and notify me when the trial is to take place." The attorney did so, but heard nothing from Sir Matthew in reply.

The day of trial came; and the elder brother's prospects looked dark in the extreme. That morning a coach drove up to the house of a miller in the neighboring town. A gentleman alighted and went in. After saluting the miller, he told him he had a request to make, which was that he would exchange clothes with him, and allow his coachman to remain there with the carriage until the following day. The miller at first thought the stranger was joking; and on being convinced to the contrary, would fain have fetched his best suit; but the stranger would have none but the dusty clothes he had on. soon effected, and the stranger, transformed to a white-coated honestfaced old miller, proceeded on foot to the village where the court was sitting.

no,

The exchange was

The yard of the court-hall was crowded with people waiting for the celebrated case to be called. Among them a sturdy miller—who must have come from a distance, since nobody knew him—was seen elbowing his way. The elder brother was there, looking pale and anxious. "Well, my friend," said the miller, accosting him, "how is your case likely to get on?" "I don't know," replied Thomas; "badly, I fear; since I have reason to suppose that both judge and jury are heavily bribed, while I have to depend solely upon the justice of my cause.' Finding a sympathetic listener, he went on to relate all the circumstances of his case in a simple and sincere manner, which carried conviction with it.

"Cheer up, my friend!" said the miller, grasping his hand. “I have had some experience in these cases, and perhaps I can help you a little. If you will follow my advice, it can do no harm, and it may be of use to you." The elder brother willingly caught at anything that might give the least prospect of success. “Well, then,” said the miller, "when the names of the jury are called over, object to one of them, no matter which. The judge will perhaps ask what your reasons are: then say, 'I object to him by the rights of an Englishman, without giving my reasons why.' Then if asked what person you would prefer in his place, you can look carelessly round and mention me. I think I may be of some use to you, though I can't promise."

Something in the honest old fellow's manner inspired confidence, and the elder brother gladly agreed to follow his directions. Soon the trial

began. As the names of the jury were called, Thomas rose and objected to one of them. "And pray," said the judge, sternly, "why do you object to that gentleman as juryman?" "I object to him, my lord, by the rights of an Englishman, without giving my reasons why." “And whom do you wish to have in his place?" “An honest man, my lord, if I can get one!" cried Thomas, looking round. "Yon miller-I don't know his name-I'd like him." "Very well," says his lordship, "let the miller be sworn."

66

Accordingly the miller was called down from the gallery, and impanelled with the rest of the jury. He had not been long in the box, when he observed, going about among the jurymen, a bustling, obsequious little man, who presently came to him, and smilingly slipped five guineas into his hand, intimating that they were a present from the younger brother. “Yonder is a very polite man!" said the miller, to his next neighbor in the box. "I may well say so," said the delighted juryman, "since he has given me ten guineas to drink our friend James's health." And, on further inquiry, the miller discovered that each man had received double the sum presented to himself.

He now turned his whole attention to the trial, which appeared to lean decidedly in favor of the younger brother; for while a few witnesses timidly testified to the plaintiff's striking resemblance to the elder brother, others swore positively that the elder brother was dead and buried. When his lordship came to deliver his charge to the jury, he took no notice whatever of several palpable contradictions in the testimony of these false witnesses, but proceeded to expatiate upon the evidence as if it had been overwhelmingly in James's favor.

When he had concluded, the usual question was put to the jury: were they all agreed? The foreman rose, with his ten guineas jingling in his pocket, and was about to reply, supposing all to have been equally convinced with himself, by the same golden arguments; when the miller stepped forward, calling out: "No, my lord, we are not all agreed ! "And pray," said his lordship, frowning with contempt and impatience, "what objections have you?" "I have many objections, my lord! In the first place, all these gentlemen of the jury have received ten broad pieces of gold from the younger brother, while I have received but five!" Having made this simple announcement, to the consternation or the court, and to the amusement of the spectators, the supposed miller proceeded to point out the contradictory evidence which had been adduced, in such a strain of eloquence that all present-especially the elder brother and the attorney- were filled with amazement. length the judge, unable to contain himself, called out with vehemence:

At

"Who are you? Where do you come from? What is your name?" To which the miller calmly replied: "I come from Westminster Hall; my name is Matthew Hale; I am Lord Chief Justice of the King's Bench; and convinced as I am of your entire unfitness to hold so high a judicial position, from having observed your iniquitous and partial proceedings this day, I command you to come down from that tribunal which you have so disgraced. I will try this case myself." Sir Matthew then ascended the bench in his miller's coat and wig, ordered a new jury to be impanelled, re-examined the witnesses, and drew out confessions of bribery from those who had sworn to the elder brother's death. He then summed up the case anew, and it was unhesitatingly decided

in the elder brother's favor.

Anon.

XXVII. IDENTIFICATION.

THEN the Master, with a gesture of command, waved his hand; and at the word, loud and sudden, there was heard, all around them and below, the sound of hammers, blow on blow, knocking away the shores and spurs. And see! she stirs ! she starts, she moves, she seems to feel the thrill of life along her keel; and, spurning with her foot the ground, with one exulting, joyous bound, she leaps into the ocean's arms. And lo! from the assembled crowd there rose a shout, prolonged and loud, that to the ocean seemed to say, "Take her, O bridegroom, old and gray; take her to thy protecting arms, with all her youth and all her charms."

The Building of the Ship.

Longfellow.

Ir we read over the foregoing extract indifferently, or without re-living the situations, the expression of the voice is consequently negative and neutral; but if the mind really sees each scene, and feels the movement of the events or situations, voice and body are freely and naturally modulated.

Thus the real cause of genuine experience in oratorical delivery or dramatic expression, is the identification of the speaker or reader with the thought or situation. This is true whether we objectively represent the characteristics or actions of an object, or whether we manifest our own feeling for the scene or object of attention. In either case, unless the expression is meant to be cold and mechanical, or mere imitation, sympathetic identification✔ of the reader with the scene must cause the experience.

The soul of all true expression is sympathy. The imagination conceives the scenes and situations, reproduces them in a nat