My sentence is for open war.

Of wiles

More unexpert, I boast not: them let those
Contrive who need; or when they need, not now.
For, while they sit contriving, shall the rest,
Millions that stand in arms and longing wait
The signal to ascend, sit lingering here
Heaven's fugitives, and for their dwelling place
Accept this dark opprobrious den of shame,
The prison of his tyranny who reigns
By our delay?-No, let us rather choose,
Arm'd with hell flames and fury, all at once
O'er heavens high towers to force resistless way,
Turning our tortures into horrid arms
Against the torturer; when to meet the noise
Of his almighty engine he shall hear
Infernal thunder: and, for lightning see
Black fire and horror shot with equal rage
Among his angels: and his throne itself
Mix'd with Tartarean sulphur and strange fire,
His own invented torments.-But perhaps
The way seems steep and difficult to scale
With upright wing against a higher foe.
Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench
Of that forgetful lake benumb not still,
That in our proper motion we ascend
Up to our native seat: descent and fall
To us is adverse. Who but felt of late,
When the fierce foe hung on our broken rear
Insulting, and pursued us through the deep,
With what compulsion and laborious flight
We sunk thus low? The ascent.is easy then.
The event is fear'd. Should we again provoke
Our stronger, some worse way his wrath
may find
To our destruction; if there be in hell

Fear to be worse destroyed. What can be worse
Than to dwell here, driven out from bliss, condemn'd
In this abhorred deep to utter wo;

Where pain of unextinguishable fire
Must exercise us without hope of end,
The vassals of his anger, when the scourge
Inexorable, and the torturing hour

Calls us to penance? More destroy'd than thus,
We should be quite abolish'd and expire.

What fear we then? what doubt we to incense
His utmost ire? which, to the height enrag'd,
Will either quite consume us and reduce
To nothing this essential; happier far,
Than miserable, to have eternal being;
Or if our substance be indeed divine,
And cannot cease to be, we are at worst
On this side nothing; and by proof we feel
Our power sufficient to disturb his heaven,
And with perpetual inroad to alarm,
Though inaccessible, his fatal throne;
Which, if not victory,—is yet revenge.

High Key.

What was the part of a faithful citizen? of a prudent, an active, and an honest minister? Was he not to secure Eubœa, as our defence against all attacks by sea? Was he not to make Boeotia our barrier on the mid-lånd side? the cities bordering on Peloponesus, our bulwark on that quarter? Was he not to attend with due precaution to the importation of corn, that this trade might be protected through all its progress up to our own harbour? Was he not to cover those districts which we commanded by seasonable detachments, as the Proconesus, the Chersoneus, and Tenedos ? to exert himself in the assembly for this purpose? while with equal zeal he laboured to gain others to our interest and alliance, as Byzantium, Abydos, and Euboea? Was he not to cut off the best and most important resources of our enemies, and to supply those in

which our country was defective?-And all this you gained by councils and my administration.

High and Soft.

Ah! Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill, be more
To blazen it, then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue
Unfold the imagin'd happiness, that both
Receive in either, by this dear encounter.

Oh, Belvidera! doubly I'm a beggar:
Undone by fortune and in debt to thee:
Want, worldly want, that hungry meagre fiend,
Is at my heels, and chases me in view.

Canst thou bear cold and hunger? Can these limbs
Endure the bitter gripes of smarting poverty?
When banish'd by our miseries abroad,
(As suddenly we shall be) to seek out

In some far climate, where our names are strangers,
For charitable succour ;-wilt thou then,

When in a bed of straw we shrink together,

And the bleak winds shall whistle round our heads, Wilt thou then talk thus to me? Wilt thou then Hush my cares thus, and shelter me with love?

My voice is still for war.

1

Gods! can a Roman senate long debate
Which of the two to choose, slavery or death?
No; let us rise at once, gird on our swords,
And at the head of our remaining troops,
Attack the foe, break through the thick array
Of his throng'd legions, and charge home upon him.
Perhaps some arm more lucky than the rest,
May reach his heart and free the world from bondage.
Rise, fathers, rise! 'tis Rome demands your help!
Rise and revenge her slaughter'd citizens,

Or share their fate.

Manure the fields of

The corps of half her senate
Thessaly, while we

Sit here deliberating in cold debates

If we should sacrifice our lives to honour,
Or wear them out in servitude and chains.
Rouse up, for shame! Our brothers of Pharsalia
Point at their wounds, and cry aloud-To battle !
Great Pompey's shade complains that we are slow
And Scipio's ghost walks unrevenged amongst us.

Outlines of Gesture.

;

Gesture, considered as a just and elegant adaptation of every part of the body, to the nature and import of the subject we are pronouncing, has always been considered as one of the most essential parts of oratory. Its power, as Cicero observes, is much greater than that of words. It is the language of nature in the strictest sense, and makes its way to the heart, without the utterance of a single sound. Ancient and modern orators are full of the power of action; and action, as with the illustrious Grecian orator, seems to form the beginning, the middle, and end of oratory.

The extent and variety of gesture has a wider range than many are aware of: for it comprehends the action and position of all the parts of the body; of the head, the shoulders, the trunk; of the arms, hands, and fingers; of the lower limbs, and of the feet it may not improperly include the expressions of the face.-Gesture has one great advantage over the voice, viz. that it affects the eye, which is the quickest of all our senses, and consequently must convey the impressions more speedily to the mind, than that of the voice, which affects the ear only. Nature has given to every sentiment, emotion and passion, its proper outward expression. Hence what we frequently mean, does not so much depend upon the words which we use, as on the manner of expressing them. Thus nature fixes the outward expression of every sentiment of the mind. Art only

As na

adds gracefulness to what nature leads to. ture has determined that man should walk on his feet, not on his hands, it is the business of art to teach him to walk gracefully. Every part of the human frame contributes to express the passions and emotions of the mind, and to show in general its present

state.

A cast of the eye shall express desire in as moving a manner, as the softest language: and a different motion of it, resentment. To wring the hands, tear the hair, or strike the breast, are strong indications of sorrow. And he who claps his hand to his sword, throws us into a greater panic, than he who threatens to kill us. This language of nature is so expressive, that Cicero informs us, that he frequently amused himself with trying this with Roscius the comedian, who could express a sentence as many ways by his gestures, as he could by his words.

It is not necessary, as some writers have asserted, that the hands should never be idle. Nature does not so direct. On the stage where the action is more diversified, and where a greater profusion of gesture is allowable than in Oratory, we find that the most celebrated actors and actresses do not follow this rule. In many parts of an oration little gesture should be used, in some the speaker may be almost unmoved, and in others the tone of voice and expression of countenance is sufficient. It is not necessary always to saw the air, far from it. But it is highly necessary to consider and judge when the air should be divided by the arm, the weapon of the orator: when he is to move his head, his body, and his limbs; and how he is to do all this with propriety and effect. The art of gesture however cultivated, is not to be used for incessant flourishing: this would be like introducing the steps and bounds of dancing into the simple movements of walking.

The variety of gestures of which the human figure is capable, is almost infinite. In this great variety there is, however a similarity and relation among