My blood is up, and I have the strength of ten such men as you. I have a series of personal insults to avenge, and my indignation is aggravated by the cruelties practised in this cruel den. Have a care, or the consequences will fall heavily upon your head!"

Fall of Poland.

WARSAW's last champion from her height surveyed,
Wide o'er the fields, a waste of ruin laid;

O Heaven! he cried, my bleeding country save!
Is there no hand on high to shield the brave?
Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains,
Rise, fellow-men! our country yet remains!

By that dread name, we wave the sword on high,
And swear for her to live, with her to die!

Dickens.

Campbell.

THE heavens are veined with fire! And the thunder, how it rolls! In the lullings of the storm the solemn church-bell tolls for lost souls; but no sexton sounds the knell. In that belfry, old and high, unseen fingers sway the bell, as the wind goes tearing by! How it tolls for the souls of the sailors on the sea! God pity them! God pity them! wherever they may be.

Aldrich.

SIR HARCOURT fallen desperately in love with me? With me! That is delicious! Ah!-ha! ha! ha! I see my cue. I'll cross his scent I'll draw him after me. Ho! ho! won't I make love to him? Ha! Here they come to dinner. I'll commence my operations on the governor immediately. Ha! ha! ha! how I will enjoy it!

London Assurance.

Boucicault.

and

I ONLY wish I'd got him safe in these two motherly arms, would n't I hug him and kiss him! Lawk! I never knew what a precious he was - but a child don't not feel like a child till you miss him. Why, there he is! Punch and Judy hunting, the young wretch, it's that Billy as sartin as sin! But let me get him home, with a good grip of his hair, and I'm blest if he shall have a whole bone in his skin!

Thomas Hood.

Lady Teazle. For my part, I should think you would like to have your wife thought a woman of taste.

Sir Peter Teazle. Ay; there again taste. Zounds! madam, you had no taste when you married me!

Lady T. That's very true, indeed, Sir Peter; and after having married you, I should never pretend to taste again, I allow.

Sheridan.

THEY are here! They rush on! We are broken! We are gone!
Our left is borne before them like stubble on the blast.
O Lord, put forth thy might! O Lord, defend the right!

Stand back to back, in God's name, and fight it to the last!

As experience gives character, what peculiar experiences give character to the lines in "Marmion," called Lochinvar? It belongs to the age of chivalry; it has a heroic element; it is a spirited story; it has the atmosphere of high comedy, with a rapid movement of events. Lochinvar must be introduced to the audience as an object of admiration. If the reader has no admiration for him, he can awaken none in his listeners. Admiration lies at the base of all noble feeling. A sympathetic relationship toward a subject alone makes experience possible. This admiration permeates the first six lines. The changes in passing from Lochinvar to his horse, to his sword, are not very important. At the beginning of the second stanza we come to changes in situation. In the first two lines we see Lochinvar dashing across the country, and our admiration leads us to sympathetic identification of ourselves with his excitement and speed. In the second and third lines we even fly to Netherby before him, and realize what is about to happen there. Our sympathy for him passes into indignation at his enemies, and regret at the course of events. All hurry subsides, the rhythm completely changes. In the last two lines, at the sight of the supplanter, indignation gives way to contempt. All these changes of experience must be so felt as to change the expression. As Lochinvar arrives, his coolness restores our confidence. In the second line we keep our admiration centred upon him as we experience contempt for the cowardly bridesmen and brothers. As the father steps forward every word vibrates with his spirit. "His hand on his sword" must be given with his spirit of antagonism. It must not be a meaningless accident. The way in which small phrases like this are given tests the real artist. This clause shows the gradual identification of the reader with the father, which has a climax in the quotation.

Such changes continue throughout the poem. In the first line of the fifth stanza a subtle change in expression is caused by our admiration for the hero Lochinvar, and then for Ellen. We do

not admire them in the same way. In the next line the feeling for them both causes another difference in the voice. In the third line the mother does not "fret" as the father "fumes." The difference, however, rests not upon these special words, but upon the whole clauses. Words only give a hint of a situation. The imaginative reader manifests his feeling and conception through the whole clause. Lines containing such definite conceptions and transitions of feeling should be practised as definite problems by all who wish to secure control over emotion, and to develop imaginative and dramatic versatility.

LOCHINVAR.

O YOUNG Lochinvar is come out of the West,
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best!
And, save his good broadsword, he weapon had none,
He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone.
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,

There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.

He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone,
He swam the Eske River where ford there was none;

But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate,

The bride had consented, the gallant came late :
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.

So boldly he entered the Netherby hall,
'Mong bridesmen and kinsmen, and brothers, and all.
Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword
(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word),
"O, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,
Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar ?"
"I long wooed your daughter, - my suit you denied ;
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide;
And now am I come, with this lost love of mine
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine.
There are maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far,
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar."
The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up,
He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup.
She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh,
With a smile on her lip and a tear in her eye.
He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar—
"Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar.

So stately his form, and so lovely her face,

That never a hall such a galliard did grace;

While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,

And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;
And the bride-maidens whispered, ""T were better by far
To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar."

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,

When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near;

So light to the croup the fair lady he swung,

So light to the saddle before her he sprung.

"She is won! we are gone! over bank, bush, and scar;
They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.

There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the Netherby clan;
Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran;
There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee,

But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.

So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,

Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar ?

KEENAN'S CHARGE.

Sir Walter Scott.

THE sun had set; the leaves with dew were wet; down fell a bloody dusk on the woods that second of May, where Stonewall's corps, like a beast of prey, tore through with angry tusk. "They have trapped us, boys!" rose from our flank a voice. With a rush of steel and smoke, on came the thousands straight, eager as love and wild as hate; and our line reeled and broke,

- broke and fled; no one stayed - but the dead! With curses, shrieks, and cries, horses, wagons, and men tumbled back through the shuddering glen, and above us the fading skies.

"Battery

There's one hope still, — those batteries parked on the hill! wheel ['mid the roar]! Pass pieces; fix prolonge to fire retiring. Trot!" In the panic dire a bugle rings "Trot!" and no more. The horses plunged, the cannon lurched and lunged, to join the hopeless rout. But suddenly rode a form calmly in front of the human storm, with a stern, commanding shout, “Align those guns" [We knew it was Pleasonton's]! The cannoneers bent to obey, and worked with a will, at his word; and the black guns moved as if they had heard. But, ah, the dread delay! "To wait is crime; O God, for ten minutes' time!" The general looked around; there Keenan sat, like a stone, with his three hundred horse alone, — less shaken than the ground. “Major, your men?" "Are soldiers, General." "Then, charge, Major! Do your best; hold the enemy back at all cost, till my guns are placed, — else the army is lost. You die to save the rest!"

By the shrouded gleam of the Western skies brave Keenan looked in Pleasonton's eyes for an instant, — clear, and calm, and still; then, with a

smile, he said, "I will. — Cavalry, charge!" Not a man of them shrank. Their sharp full cheer, from rank on rank, rose joyously, with a willing breath, rose like a greeting hail to death. Then forward they sprang, and spurred and clashed; shouted the officers crimson-sash'd; rode well the men, each brave as his fellow, in their faded coats of the blue and yellow; and above in the air, with an instinct true, like a bird of war their pennon flew. With clank of scabbards and thunder of steeds, and blades that shine like sun-lit reeds, and strong brown faces bravely pale, for fear their proud attempt shall fail, three hundred Pennsylvanians close on twice ten thousand foes. Line after line the troopers came to the edge of the wood, that was ring'd with flame, - rode in and sabred and shot and fell; nor came one back his wounds to tell. And full in the midst rose Keenan, tall in the gloom, like a martyr awaiting his fall, while the circle stroke of his sabre, swung 'round his head, like a halo there luminous hung. Line after line; ay, whole platoons, struck dead in their saddles, of brave dragoons by the maddened horses were onward borne and into the vortex flung, trampled and torn. As Keenan fought with his men side by side, so they rode, till there were no more to ride. But over them, lying there shattered and mute, what deep echo rolls? - 'T is a death salute from the cannon in place; for, heroes, you braved your fate not in vain the army was saved!

Over them now year following year - over their graves the pine cones fall, and the whip-poor-will chants his spectre call; but they stir not again, they raise no cheer, they have ceased. But their glory shall never cease, nor their light be quenched in the light of peace; for the rush of that charge is resounding still that saved the army at Chancellorsville.

George Parsons Lathrop.

XXIX. CONTRAST.

CHANGES of feeling may arise in two ways: by contrast and gradation, or by natural progression or retrogression. Contrast is the more salient of these, for deep feeling often changes naturally to its opposite, and there are certain emotions so deep that they can be touched only momentarily, or suggested by opposition.

THEY sought him east, they sought him west,
They sought him all the forest thorough;

They only saw the cloud of night,

They only heard the roar of Yarrow.

Logan.

In the first two of these lines, the whole search is recounted with anxiety and dread, and in the last two the sad result, despair and anguish, are brought into opposition.