Donated to the
Ontario Historical Textbook
Collection
by the
Legislative Llbrary
farch 1966
THE ONTARIO
HIGH SCHOOL READER
BY
A. E. MARTY, M.A.
COLLEGIATE INSTITUTE. OTTAVCA
AUTHORIZED BY THE IINISTER OF EDUCATION FOR ONTARIO
FOR USE IN
CONTINUATION AND HIGH ,qCHOOL8 AND COLLEGIAI"I INSTITUTES
THE CANADA PUBLI.qIIING COMPANY, LIMITED
TORONTO
Copyright, Canada, 19II, by
THE CAIAIA IUBLISHING COMPANy, LIMITID.
IMITATION 5
matter of what we react. Nevertheless it is very stimulating
to hear a selection well read, not because a model is thus
supplied for our imitation, but because we get a grasp of the
selection as a whole, and because the voice, which possesses
great power in stirring the imanation and the feelings, thus
prepares within us the mental and emotional state necessary
for the correct expression.
In the same way, imitation of the movements, somds,
and gestures, suggested by the subject matter may he a
stimulus to thought and feeling when preparing a selection,
since what we have actually reproduced is more real to us
than what we have only imagined. After such preparation,
imitation, if it enters into the readiug at all, will be spon-
taneous, and not intentional and forced. In reading The
Charge of the Light Brigade or The Ride from Ghent to Aix,
we do not designedly hurry along to imitate rapidity of
movement; but, rather, the imanation having been kindled
by the picture, our pulse is qniekeued, and the voice moves
rapidly in sympathy with the feelings aroused.
In the following extraet (p. 216} the atmosphere is one of
joy. The reader is moved through sympathy with Horatius,
and his voice indieates the joy of the Romans, but be does not
attempt to imitate voeally, or by gesture, the "shouts,"
"clapping," and "weeping":
Now round him throng the Fathers
To press his gory hauds;
Aud now, with shouts and clapping,
And noise of weeping loud,
He enters through the River-Gate,
Borne by the joyous crowd.
Sometimes, as already stated, we imitate spontaneously:
Back darted Spurius Lartius;
Herminius darted back:
And, as they passed, beneath their feet
They felt the timbers crack.
ELEIENTS OF 'OCAL EXPRESSION 7
much more likely we are to fall into such errors when we
attempt to interpret vocally from a book the thoughts of
another.
Elements of Vocal Expression
In order to criticise ourselves or understand intelligent
criticism, we must have a knowledge of the laws that govern
speech--that is, we must know what properties of tone or
what acts of the voice correspond to certain mental and emo-
tional states. For example, the amount and character of
thinking done while we read determines the rate of utter-
ance; the purpose or motive of the thought and its com-
pleteness or incompleteness are indicated by an upward or
downward slide of the voice; the nervous tension expresses
itself in a certaiu key; the physical and mental energy, in a
certain power or volume of the voice; and the character of
the motion is reflected in the quality. These principles of
vocal expression are known technically as the elements of
time, inflection, pitch, force, and quality. Closely connected
with these elements are pause, grouping, stress, emphasis,
shading, and perspective.
Pause. It must be quite clear that when we are reading
silently, for the purpose of getting the thought for our-
selves, our minds are at work as has been described. We
shall now examine how this work done by the mind affects
the voice and produces what we call good expression when ve
are reading aloud for the purpose of conveying thought to
others. As an illustration we shall take an example from
The Glove and the Lions:
The nobles fill'd the benches round, the ladies by their
side,
And 'mongst them Count de Lorge, with one he hoped to
make his bride.
In these lines there are certain words or phrases which stand
out prominently since they call up mental pictures, namely:
nobles ' benehes round," Count de Lorge ' and
GROUPING 11
reads, will group together words that express one idea, or
symbolize one picture, presenting these ideas and pictures to
himself and to the listener one by one, and separating by a
pause, of greater or less length, those not closely connected.
A slouched leather capl I half hid his face I bronzed
by the sun and wind I and dripping with sweat.ll He
wore a cravat twisted like a ropell coarse blue
trousers 1 worn and shabby I white on one knee I and
with holes in the other;ll an old ragged gray blouse l
patched on one side with a piece of grcen cloth 1
sewed with twine;I I upon his backl was a well-filled
knapsack,11 in his hand I he carried an enormous
knotted stick;] I his stockingless feet I were in hob-
nailed shoes;I I his hair was cropped:l and his beard
long.
Here the double vertical lines mark off oToups of words
which express one idea or symbolize one picture, and which
are therefore each separated from the other by a well-
marked pause. The single vertical lines indicate a shorter
pause between the subdivisions of each group. The phrase
"an old ragged gray blouse patched on one side with a piece
of green cloth sewed with twine" presents one picttre hy
itself, and is separated from the context by a long pause, but
each detail in this picture is presented in turn to the mind's
eye, hence the shorter pauses after "blouse," "cloth," and
' ' twine. ' '
The reader should be careful not to allow pause and
grouping to produce a jerky effect, thus interfering with the
rhythm. This applies especially to poetry, which demalds,
in order to preserve the rhythm, that the caesural pause
should not be slighted, and that there should he a more or less
marked pause at the end of each line:
And they had trod the Pass once more, and stoop'd on
either side
To pluck the heather from the spot where he had
dropped and died.
INFLECTION 17
there. When the reader understands the exact meaning he
will convey it by keeping the rising inflection on "garlands."
Similar to the foregoing is the following:
There is not a wlfe in the wst cduntry
But has heard of the Will of St. Kyne.
The sense is not complete until we read the second line. The
rising inflection on "eountr3"' indicates this aml connects the
first line with the second, bringing out the meaning, that
every wife in the west country has beard of the Well of St.
Keyne.
Sometimes we have a series of rising inflections, all point-
ing forward to the leading statement which is to follow and
which is necessary to complete the sense, for example:
Of man's first disob6dience and the frfiit
Of that forbidden tr6e, whose mortal histe
Brought dath into the wdrld, and all our wSe,
With loss of lden, till one greater mn
Rest6re us, and regiin the blissful sat,
Sing, he.hvenly Mse.
Incompleteness may be suggested by a negative statement or
its equivalent :
Ndt from the grand old msters
Ndt from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.
I do not know what I was plfiying
Or what I was dreaming tll6n,
But I struck one chord of music
Like the sound of a great Amen.
Note the rising inflection on these negative clauses.
18 [NFLECTION
On the same principle the rsing inflection is used on the
negative statements of persuasive arg'ament as in the
Apology of ocrates (p. 145).
But I thought that I ought not to do anything
common or mean, in the hour of danger: nor do I
now repent of the manner of my defence.
For neither in war nor yet at law ought any man
to use every way of escaping death.
Not so; the deficiency which led to my conviction
was not of words--certainly not.
Doubt and hesitation also imply incompleteness:
He surely would do desperate things to show his love
of me !
King, ladies, lovers, all look on; the chance is won-
drous fine;
I'll drr, p my alove to prove his love; great glory
will hc mine!
Note the rising inflection on the first two lines where the lady
is still in doubt as o what shall be he test of De Lorge's love,
and the falling inflection on the last one when she has
reached a decision.
Pleading and entreaty also convey a sense of incomplete-
ness and take the rising inflection:
Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up
To such a sudden flood of mutiny.
Good Sir Richard, tell us now,
For to fight is bnt to die!
A direct interrogation, that is, one that can be answered
by "Yes" or "No", implies incompleteness in the mind of
the questioner and requires a decided rising inflection:
Is your name ShJloek$
May you stead me$ Will you pleasure me$ Shall
I kndw your gtnswer*/
SR.SS 27
Take me out, sink me deep in the green profound,
To sway with the long weed, swing with the drowned,
Where the change of the soft tide makes no sound,
Far below the keels of the outward bound.
For the same reason such poems as The Din! is Done, (p. 63)
and Part IV, of The Lady of Shalott, (p. 2)0) are read with
gentle force.
A change in force often accompanies a change in pitch.
The lower pitch of parenthetical expression., and narrative
clauses which interrupt direct discourse, is accompanied by
weaker force, and the higher pitch resulting from the efforts
to make one's self heard at a distance is accompanied by
stronger force.
Stress is force applied to the vowel sound. When we are
taken by surprise and give expression to it by means of the
one word "Oh," we apply the force or volume of the voice
to the bennin of the vowel sound. This is called initial
or radical stress (-). When we wish to give a very emphatic
denial to a statement, or to insist on a refusal to some per-
sistent request we say "No," gradually increasing the force
of the voice to the last part of the vowel sound. This is
called final or ranishing stress (). Again, i[ our minds are up-
lifted with wonder and delight at something we have heard
or seen, we exclaim "Oh" applying the force to the middle
of the vowel sound. This swell of the voxvel sound is called
edian stress (<>).
It h-s already been pointed out that force depends upon
the amount of eneroT. The above examples show that stress
or the location of force depends npon the kind of mental
energy, or the attitude of mind, whether it be that of abrupt-
ness, of insistence, or of uplift.
All speech has a slight tendency toward initial stress,
because the effort made by the vocal chords to articulate
sound is characterized by abruptness. If, in addition, the
mental energy of the speaker possesses abruptness through
sudden impulse or emotion, or through nneonseious imitation
HADING AND DERSPECTIVE 33
Shading and Perspective. These deal with the relative im-
portance of words, phrases, or clauses. According as an idea
suggested by a word or gn'oup of words is regarded as prin-
cipal or subordinate, the voice either projects it or holds it in
the back-ground as an artist shades his picture:
And, though the legend does not live,--for legends light-
ly die--
The peasant, as he sees the stream in winter rolling by,
And foaming o'er it.s channel-bed between him and the
spot
Won by the warriors of the sword, still calls that deep
and dangerous ford
The Passage.of the 8cot.
The principal statement, "The peant still calls that deep
and dangerous ford the Passaffe of the ,qeot," is projected
or emphasized by higher pitch and stronger force, the
thought being sustained, and the connection made between
"The peasant" and "still calls" by means of the rising inflec-
tion. The subordinate statements, "though the legend does
not live" and "as he sees the stream in winter rolling by
............ sword," are kept in the baek-._oxound by slightly
lower pitch and moderate force. The parenthetical clause,
"for legends lightly die," is subordinate to the subordinate
statement and is thrown still more into the back-ground in
the same way as the preceding.
Strictly speaking, the terra "shading" is used to indicate
the value of iadividtml phrases or clauses; "perspective,"
to indicate the values of several phrases or clauses viewed
relatively.
The quality, or timbre, of the voice reveals the speaker's
emotions, their, character, number, and intensity. The voice
is affected by the muscular texture of the throat, just as the
tone of an instrument is affected by the texture of the ma-
terial of which it i.s made. This muscular texture is affected
by nerve and muscular vibrations which are caused by emo-
tion, the result of mental impressions. Whatever be the
(ULITY 35
The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;"
And the white rose weeps, "She is late ;"
The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;"
And the lily whispers, "I wait."
The atmosphere of hush and repose expresses itself hy a
partial whisper:
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river gIideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!
It must not be supposed that the whisper is always associ-
ated with moderate or with weak force as in the preeedin
examples. SIroug force is used with the whgper to express
inteity of feeling or vehemence:
Whisperin with white lips: the foe! they come! they
come !
Hush, I say, hush!
Other emotional states have their corresponding qualities of
voice, such, for example, as the quality of oppressel feeling
and the quality expressing agitation.
To conclude: it must be carefully borne in mind that the
reader should never strife to produce a certain quality apart
from the emotion which shoulcl precede. By force alone,
for example, he will succeed in producing mere sound without
tle quality. Nor are any of the examples given above, in
dealing with the various elements of vocal expression,
intended for practice in voice g.'mnasties apart from th
preliminary state of which they are the vocal expression.
They are intended merely as illustrations of the laws which
govern correct speech.
JEAN VALJEAN AND TIlE BISHOP 39
and, without waiting for the bishop to speak, said, in
a loud voice :
"See here! my name is Jean Valjean. I am a convict;
I have been nineteen years in the galleys. Four days
ago I was set free, and started for Pontarlier; during
these four days I have walked from Toulon. To-day 1
have walked twelve leagues. When I reached this place
this evening I went to an inn, and they sent me away on
account of my yellow passport, which I had shown at
the [ayor's office, as was necessary. I went to another
inn; they said, 'Get out!' It was the same with one
as with another; nobody would have me. I went to the
prison and the turnkey would not let me in. I crept
into a dog kennel, the dog hit me, and drove me away
as if he had been a man; you would have said that lie
knew who I was. I went into the fields to sleep beneath
lhe stars, there were no stars. I thought it would rain,
and there was no good God to stop the drops, so I came
back to the town to get the shelter of some doorway.
There in the square I laid down upon a stone; a good
woman showed me your house, and said: 'Knock there!'
I have knocked. What is this place? Are you an inn?
I have money; my savings, one hundred and nine francs
and fifteen sous, which I have earned in the galleys
my work for nineteen years. I will pay. What do I
care? I have money, I am very tired--twelve leagues
on foot--and I am so hungry. ('an I stay?"
"Mine. Magloire," said the bishop, "put on another
plate."
The man took three steps and oame near the lamp
which stood on the tahle. "Stop," he exclaimed; as if
he had not been understood; "not that, did you under-
sland me? I am a galley slave--a convict--I am .just
from the galleys." IIe drew from his pocket a large
sheet of yellow paper, which he unfolded. "There is
roy passport, yellow, as you see. That is enough to have
me kicked out whereve.r I go. Will you read it ? See,
here is what they have put on my passport: Jean Val-
jean, a liberated convict; has been nineteen years in the
galleys; five years for burglary; fourteen years for hav-
ing attempted four times to escape. This man is very
dangerous. There you have it ! Everybody has thrust
me out; will you receive me? Is this an inn? Can
you give me something to eat and a place to sleep?
Have you a stable ?"
"Mine. Magloire," said the bishop, "put some sheets
en the bed in the alcove."
The bishop turned to the man:
"Monsieur, sit down and warm yourself; we are going
to take supper presently, and your bed will be made
ready while you sup."
At last the man quite understood ; his face, the expres-
sion of which till then had been gloomy, and hard. now
expressed stupefaction, doubt and joy, and became
absolutely wonderful, lie began to stutter like a mad-
lIlan.
"True ? What ? You will keep me ? you won't drive
me away--a convict? You call me monsieur and don't
say, 'Get out. dog!' as everybody else does. I shall
l:ave a supper! a bed like other people, with mattress
and sheetsa bed ! It is nineteen years that I have not
s]ept on a bed. You are good people! Besides, I have
money; I ill pay well. I beg your pardon. M. Inn-
keeper, what is your name ? I will pay all you say. You
are a fine man. You are an innkeeper, is it not so?"
"I am a priest who lives here," said the bishop.
JEAN VALJEAN AND THE BISHOP 41
"A priest," said the nan. "Oh, noble priest ! Then
you do not ask any money?"
"No," said the bishop, "keep your money. How
much have you?"
"One hundred and nine francs and fifteen sous,"
said the man.
"One hundred and nine francs and fifteen sous.
And how long did it take you to earn that?"
"Nineteen years."
"Nineteen years !"
The bishop sighed deeply, and shut the door, which
had been left wide open.
Mine. 5[agloire brought in a plate and set it on the
table.
"Mme Magloire," said the bishop, "put this plate
as near the fire as you can." Then turning toward his
guest he addJd: "The night wind is raw in the Alps;
you must be cold, monsieur."
Every time he said the word monsieur with his gentle,
solemn and heartily hospitable voice, the man's counten-
ance lighted up. Mosieur to a convict is a glass of
water to a man dyin of thirst at sea.
"The lamp," said the bishop, "gives a very poor
hght.
Mine. Magloire understood him, and, going to his
bedchamber, took from the mantel the two silver candle-
sticks, lighted the candles and placed them on the table.
".[. le CurS," said the man, you are good ; "you don't
despise me. You take me into your house; you light
your candles for me, and I haven't hid from you where
I come from. and bow miserable I am."
The bishop touelIed his hand ently and said: "You
need not tell me who you are. This is not my house; it
is the house of Christ. It does not ask any comer
whether he has a name, hut whether he has an affliction.
You are suffering; you are bungs" and thirsty; be
welcome. And do not thank me; do not tell me that I
take you into nay house. This is the home of no man
except him who needs an asylum. I tell you, who are
a traveller, that you are more at home here than I;
whatever is here is yours. What need have I to know
your name? Besides, before you tohl me, I knew it."
The man opened his eyes in astonishment.
"teally? You knew my name?"
"Yes," answered the bishop, "your name is my
brother."
"Stop, stop, M. le Cur," exclaimed the man, "I was
famished when I came in, but you are so kind that now
I don't know what I am; that is all gone."
The bishop looked at him again and said:
"You have seen much suffering ?"
"Oh, the rc|l blouse, the hall and chain, the plank you
sleep on, tile heat, the cold, the galley's screw, the lash,
the double chain for nothing, the dungeon for a word
even when sick in bed, the chain. The dogs, the dogs
are happier ! nineteen years ! and I am forty-six, and now
a yellow passport. That is all."
"Yes," answered tile bishop, "you have left. a place
of suffering. But. listen, there will he more joy in
heaven over tile tears of a repentant sinner than over
the white robes of a hundred good men. If you are
h, aving that sorrowful place with hate and anger against
men, you are worthy of compassion; if you loave it with
good-will, gentleness, and peace, you are better than any
0|' llS. '
l'ictor Hugo
44 THE WELL OF ST. K_EYNE
There came a man from the house hard by,
At the well to fill his pail;
On the well-side he rested it,
And he bade the stranger hail.
2O
"Now, art thou a bachelor, stranger ?" quoth he;
"For, an if thou hast a wife,
The happiest draught thou hast drank this day
That ever thou didst in thy life.
"Or has thy good woman, if one thou hast,
Ever here in Cornwall been ?
For, an if she have, I'll venture my life
She has drank of the well of St. Keyne."
25
"I have left a good woman who never was here,"
The stranger he made r,ly; 30
"But that my draught should be the better for
thn t,
I prny you answer me why."
"St. Keyne," quoth the Cornish-man,
time
Drank of this crystal well;
And before the angel summoned her,
She bdd on the water a spell,--
many a
35
"If the husband of this girted well
Shall drink before his wife,
A happy man thenceforth is he,
For he shall be master for life;
4O
THE LEGEND I{E..UTIFUL 49
To the convent portals came
All the hlind and halt and lame,
All the heggars of the street,
For their daily dnle of fod
Dealt them by the brotherhood;
And their almoner was he
Who upon his hended knee,
Rapt in silent ecstasy
Of divinest self-surrender,
Saw the Vision and the Splendour.
Deep distress and hesitation
Mingled with his hdoration;
Should he go or should he stay?
Should he leave the poor to wait
IIungry at the convent gate,
Till the Vision passed away?
Should he slight his radiant guest,
Slight this visitant celestial,
For a crowd of ragged, bestial
Beggars at the convent gate?
Would the Vision there remain?
Would the Vision come again?
Then a voice within his breast
Whispered, audible and clear
As if to the outward ear:
"Do thy duty; that is best;
Leave unto thy Lord the rest.!"
Straightway to his feet he started,
And with longine look intent
On the Blessed Vision bent,
5O
55
6O
65
7
75
50 THE LEGEND BEtUTIFUL
Slowly from his cell departed,
Slowly on his errand went.
At the gate the poor were waiting,
Looking through the iron grating,
With that terror in the eye
That is only seen ill those
Who amid their wants and woes
IIear the souud of doors that close,
And of feet that pass them hy;
Grown familiar with disfavour,
Grown familiar with the savour
Of the bread by which men die!
P, ut to-day, they knew not why,
Like the gate of Paradise
Seemed the convent gate to rise,
I,ike a saeramPnt divine
eeme(l to them the bread and wine.
In his heart the Monk was praying,
Thinking of the homeless poor,
What they suffer and endure;
What we see not. what we see;
And the inward voice was saying:
"Whatsoever thin thou doest
To lhe least of Mine and lowest,
That thou doest unto Me!"
85
90
95
100
Unto Me! hut had the Vision
Come to him in 1}e.-,._,zar's clothing,
Come a mendie,nt imploring,
Would he then have lmelt adoring,
Or have listened with derision,
And have tnrned away with loathing?
105
TE SOLDIER'S DREAM 59
At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw,
And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.
_[ethought from the battlefield's dreadful array,
Far, far I had roancd on a desolate track; 10
'Twas autumn--and sunshine arose on the way
To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back.
I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft
In life's morning march, when my bosom was young;
I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, 15
And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung.
Then pledgt, d we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore
From my home and my weeping friends never to part;
My little ones kissed me a thousand times o'er.
And my wife sobbed aloud in her fulness of heart. 20
"Stay, stay with usrest, thou art weary and worn;"
And fain was their war-broken soldier to stay;
But sorrow returned with the dawning of morn,
And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away.
Thoma Campbr_ll
PEPARATORY.--Deseribe the picture suggested by this poem.
Compare the soldier's dream with the vision of The Private
of the Buffs in the hour of danger, or with The SMve's Dream
in Longfellow's poem.
Divide the poem into three distinct parts, giving to each a
descriptive title.
Expand the thoughts contained in the last two lines of the
poem, using, if possible, illustrations from literature or real life.
What feelings do these lines arouse*
Observe the difficulties of
Articulation in ll. 1, 2, 13 and
16. (Appendix A, 6 and 3.)
How can each part of the
poem be made to stand out by
itself? (Introduction, p. 10.)
6O
VAN ELSEN
other phrases which call up
mental images.
How floes the process of
mental imagery, affect the
Times (Introduction, p. 12.)
3. ttow can it be shown that
(,VERPOWERED and GROUND are
disconnected S (Introduction,
p. 7.)
4. Why do we pause after
WEARY and WOUqDED1 (Intro-
duction, p. 10.)
6. Why is there no pause
after A660T (Introduction,
p. 11.)
What lines of stanza ii
contain the leading thoughttt
How does the voice indicate
thisS (Introduction, p. 33.)
9. How is the mind prepared
for the description of the
d ream ?
21. What feeling does the
voice e:q, ress? Does Imitation
play any part here? (Intro-
duct.ion, pp. 5 and 6.)
22. Expand the thought of
this line, and show how your
thinking affects the Time.
(Introduction, p. 14.) Com-
pare with tile Time of I. 21,
and explain the difference.
VAN ELSEN
God spake three times and saved Van Elsen's soul;
lie spake by sickness first, and made him whole;
Van Elsen heard him not,
Or soon forgot.
God spake to him by wealth; the world outpoured
Its treasures at his feet, and called him lord;
Van F, lsen's heart grew fat
And proud thereat.
God spake the third time when the great world smiled,
And in the sunshine slew his little child; 10
Van Elsen like a tree
Fell hopelessly.
Then in the darkness came a voice which said,
"As thy heart blcedeth, so My heart hath bled;
As I have need of thee
Thou necdcst Me."
15
TIIE DAY IS DONE
The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from tho wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downwards
From an eagIc in its flight.
I see tile lights of tile village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me,
That my soul cannot resist:
A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.
Come, read to hie some poem,
omc simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless fooling,
An(1 banish the thoughts of (la3:
Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.
For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life's endless toil and endeavour;
And to-night I long for rest.
63
5
l0
15
2O
THE SCtIOOLMASTER AND TIIE BOYS
l;rom '" The Old Curiosity Shop"
1. The schoolmaster hal scarcely arranged the room
in due order, and taken his seat behind his lesk, when
a white-headed boy with a sunburnt face appeared at
the door, and stopping there to make a rustic bow, came
in and took his seat upon one of the forms. The white-
headed boy then put an open book, astonishingly dog-
eared, upon his knees, and thrusting his hands into his
pockets, began counting the marbles with which they
were filled. Soon afterwards another white-headed little
boy came straggling in, and after him a red-headed lad,
and after him two more with white heads, and then one
with a flaxen poll, and so on until there were about a
dozen boys in all, with heads of every colour but gray,
and ranging in their ages from four years old to fourteen
years or more; for the legs of the youngest were a long
way from the floor when he sat upon the form, and the
eldest was a hea-, good-tempered, foolish fellow, about
half a head taller than the schoolmaster.
2. At the top of the first form--the post of honour
in the school--was the vacant place of the little sick
scholar, and at the head of the row of pegs on which the
hats and caps were hung, one peg was left empty. No
boy attempted to violate the sanctity of seat or peg, but
many a one looked from the empty spaces to the school-
master, and whispered to his idle neighbour behind his
hand.
3. Then began the hum of conning over lessons and
getting them by heart, the whispered jest and stealthy
65
DEPT. OF
HISTORICAL C
THE KNIGIITS' CIIORUS
From "Idylls o! the King"
Blow trumpet, for the worhl is white with May;
Blow trumpet, the long night hath roll'd away!
Blow thro' the living world--Let the King reign.
Shall R-me or tIeathen 'ule in Arthur's reahn?
Flash brand and lance, fall battleaxe upon hehn, 5
Fall battleaxe, and flash-brand! Let the King reign.
Strike for tile King and live! his knights have heard
That God hath told the King a secret word.
Fall battlcaxe, and flash brand! Let the King reign.
Blow trumpet! he will lift us from the dust! 10
Blow trumpet! live the strength, and die tile lust!
Clang battleaxe, and clash brand! Let the King reign.
Strike for the King and die ! and if thou diest,
The King is King, and ever wills the highest.
Clang battleaxe, and clash brand! Let the king reign. 15
Blow, for our Sun is mighty in his A[ay!
Blow, for our Sun is mightier day by day!
Clang battleaxe, and elasll brand! Let the King reign.
The King will follow Christ, and we the King
In whom high God hath breathed a secret thing. 20
Fall battleaxe, and flash brand! Let the King reign.
--Alfred Tennyson
70
TEE NORTHERN STAR 71
How do you describe this
poem from the standpoint of;
(1) the amount of energy, (2)
excitement or nervous tension?
With what Force and in what
Pitch should it be read (In-
troduction, pp. 22 and 25.)
Account for the Time in
which it is read. (Introduc-
tion, p. 13.)
What is the purpose of the
question in stanza ii[ How
is this purpose indicated by
the Inflection? (Introduction,
p. 9.)
THE NORTIIERN STAR
A Tynemouth Ship
The Northern Star
Sail'd over the bar
tound to the Baltic Sea;
In the morning gray
She stretched away :--
'Twas a weary, day to me!
5
For many an hour
In sleet and shower
By the lighthouse rock I stray ;
And watch till dark
For the winged bark
Of him that is far away.
10
The castle's hound
I wander round
Amidst the grassy graves:
But all I hear
Is the north-nd drear,
And all I see are the waves.
15
The Northern Star
Is set afar!
Set in the Baltic Sea:
2O
And the waves have spread
The sandy bed
That holds my Love from me.
-- Unknourn
I=REPARATORY.--TeII the story of the poem, making as vivid
as possible the scenes depicted. Compare Kingsley's Tlree
Fishers, and Lucy Larcom's Hannah binding Shoes.
Compare this poem -ith What is the difference in
The Knights' Chorts from nervous tension between the
the standpoint of the amount last stanza and the preceding
of energy. How is the dif- ones? What difference in
ference between the t'o indi- Pitch? (Introduction, p. 23.)
cared vocally by the Force? Account for the Time in
(Introduction, p. 26.) which it is read. (Introduc-
tion, p. 14.)
]]. W].]D, w|th sails
15. TY/EMOUTH CASTLE used a a graveyard.
THE INDIGO BIRD
When l see,
High on the tip-top twig of a tree,
Something blue hy the breezes stirred,
But so far up that the blue is blurred,
So far up no green loaf flies.
Twixt its blue and the blue of the skies,
Then I know, ere a note be heard,
That is naught but the Indigo bird.
Ilue on the branch and blue in the sky,
And naught between but the breezes high, 10
And naught so blue by the breezes stirred
As the deep, deep blue of the Indigo bird.
When I hear
A song like a bird laugh, blithe and clear,
When summer keeps
Quick pace with sinewy white-shirted arms,
And daily steeps
In sumy splendour all her spreading farms,
The pasture field is flooded foamy white
With daisy faces looking at the light.
When autumn lays
lIcr golden wealth upon the forest floor,
And all the days
Look backward at the days that went before,
A pensive company, the asters, stand,
Their blue eyes brightening the pasture land.
When winter lifts
A sounding trumpet to his str,nuous lips,
And shapes the drifts
To curves of transient b, veliness, he slips
Upon the pasture's in.ffe.tual brown
A swan-sot vestment d,i,.ate as don.
--Ethlwyn lVelherald (By permission)
10
15
2O
PREPTOR.--Select the phrases which call into play the
Imaging process.
Describe four typical Canadian scenes suggested by this
poem.
Distina'uish the sound of a
in PASTURE, RAGGED BARS, etc.
(Appendix A, 1.)
What words express the
central ideas in each stanza.
and at the snme time form a
contrast with one another?
What Inflection is used in
the first four lines of each
stanza? Introduction, p. 16.)
How does the Shading of
these lines compare with that
of the last two of each stanza?
(Introduction, p. 33.)
StIIPWRECKED
From "Kidnapped"
1. The time I spent upon the island is still so horrible
thought to me that I must pass it lightly over. In all
the books I have read of people cast away, either they
had their pockets full of tools, or a chest of things
would be thrown upon the beach along with them, as if
on purpose. My case was very much different. I had
nothing in nay pockets but money and Alan's silver
button; and being inland bred, I was as nmcb short of
knowledge as of means.
2. I knew indeed that shellfish were couut.d g-d t)
eat; and among the rocks of the isle I found a great
plenty of limpets, which at first I could scarcely strike
from their places, not knowing quit.kncss to bc needful.
There were, besides, some of the little shells that we call
buckies; I think periwinkle is the English nanw. Of
these two I anade nay whole diet, dvouring them cold
and raw as I found them; and so hungry was I that at
first they seemed to me delicious.
3. Perhaps they were out of season, or perhaps there
was something wrong in the sea about my island. But
at least I had no s.oner eat,n my first meal than I ws
seized with giddiness and retching, and lay for a long
time no hetter than dead. A second trial of the same
food (indeed, I had no other) did hotter with me and
revived nay strength.
4. But as long as I was on the island, I never knew
what to expect when I had eaten: sometimes all was
75
BRIGGS IN LUCK 81
I fondly ask. But Pati'nce, to prevent
That murlnur, soon replies, "God doth not need
Either man's work, or His own gifts. Who best
Bear IIis mild yoke, they serve Him best: IIis state
Is kingly; thousands at IIis bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait."
PREP.R^TORr.--Divide the sonnet into two parts, giving each
part a title.
Read the first part in prose order, supplying the ellipses.
How many distinct statements are there in the second part
,Select the clauses of the first
part that are equal in rank and
have the same Shading. Show
which should be made promin-
ent, and which held in the back-
ground.
Read the first part of this
sonnet, with a view to Perspec-
tive. (Introduction, p. 33.)
1-4. With what do you con-
nect WHEN . . . SPENT and
LODGED ? HOW ?
How do you make the state-
ments of the second part stand
out singly? (Introduction, pp.
8 and 10.)
BRIGGS IN LUCK
From " Doctor Birch and his Young Friends"
EnWr the Knife-boy. Hamper for Briggses !
Master Brow, Hurray, Tom Briggs! I'll lend you my knife.
If this story does not carry its own moral, what fable
does, I wonder? Before the arrival of that hamper,
Master Briggs was in no better repute than any other
young gentleman of the lower school; and in fact I had
occasion ln.vself, only lately, to correct Master Brown
for kicking his friend's shins during the writing-lesson.
But how this basket, directed hy his mother's house-
keeper, and marked "GLSS WTH C,E," whence I
concluded that it contained some jam and some bottles
82 IRIGGS IN LUCK
of wine probably, as well as the usual cake and game-pie,
and half a sovereign for the elder Master B., and five
new shillings for Master Decimus Briggs--how, I say,
lhe arrival of this basket alters all Master Briggs's
circumstances in life, and the estimation in which many
persons regard him !
If he is a good-hearted boy, as I have reason to think,
ihe very first thing he will do, before inspecting the
contents of the hamper, or cutting into them with the
lnife which 5Iaster Drown has so considerately lent him,
will be to read over the letter from home which lies on
top of the parcel. IIc does so, as I remarked to Miss
Raby (for whom I happened to be mending pens when
the little circumstance arose), with a flushed face and
winking eyes. Look how the other boys are peering into
the basket as he reads--I say to her, "Isn't it a pretty
picture?" Part of the letter is in a very large hand.
That is from his little sister. And I would wager that
she netted the little purse which he has just taken out of
it, and which Master Lynx is eyeing.
"You are a droll man, and remark all sorts of queer
lhings," Miss Raby says, smiling, and plying her swift
needle and fingers as quick as possible.
"I am glad we were both on the spot, and that the
little fellow lies under our guns as it were, and so is
protected from some such brutal school-pirate as young
Dural for instance, who would rob him, probably, of
some of those good things; good in themselves, and better
because fre from home. See, there is a pie as I said,
and which I daresay is better than those which are
served at our table (but you never take any notice of
these kind of-things, Miss Raby), a cake, of course, a
bottle of curr,nt wine, jam-pots, and no end of pears
THE LAUGHING SALLY 85
Went on the chase of the pirate quarry,
The hunt of the tireless hound.
"Land on the port bow !" came the cry;
And the Sally raced for shore,
Till she reached the bar at the river-mouth
Where the shallow breakers roar.
She passed the bar by a secret channel
With clear tide under her keel,-
For he knew the shoals like an open book,
The captain at the wheel.
She passed the bar, she sped like a ghost,
Till her sails were hid from view
By the tall, liana'd, unsunned boughs
O'erhrooding the dark bayou.
At moonrise up to the river-mouth
Came the King's black ship of war,
The red cross flapped in wrath at her peak,
But she could not cross the bar.
And while she lay in the rtm of the seas,
By the grimmest whim of chance,
Out of the bay to the north came forth
Two battle-ships of France.
On the English ship the twain bore down
Like wolves that range by night;
And the breakers' roar was heard no more
In the thunder of the fight.
25
3O
35
4O
THE PRODIGAL SON
16. Where is the Pause?
Why ?
18. LAND ON THE PORT BOW.
What change is made in Pitch
and Force? Account for it.
(Introduction, 1,1 a. 22 and 25.)
24. What is the Inflect/on
on this line?
30-37. Observe the Grouping
.and Shading throughout these
38-45. What sense is appeal-
eft to in these stanzas? How
is the Time affected?
46-53. How are the tran-
sitions to direct discourse indi-
cated? (Introduction, p. 24.)
What is the difference in
Pitch between the mate's ant]
the captain's speech? (Intro-
duction, p. 23.)
66-67. Note the contrast
with the l,reeedin stanza and
with the two folloving lines.
TtIE PRODIGAL SON
Luke xv 11--2
A certain man had two sons: And the younger of
them said to his father, Father, give me the portion of
goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them
his living.
And not many days after the younger son gathered
all together, and took his journey into a far country,
and there wasted his substance with riotous living. And
when lie had spent all. there a.rose a mighty famine in
that land; and he began to be in want. And lie went
and joined himself to a citizen of that country; and lie
s.nt him into his fields to feed swine. And lie would
fain have filh.d his belly xxth the husks that the swine
did eat: and no nian gave unto him. And when he
came to himself, he said. How many hired servants of
my father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish
with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and will
say unto him. Father, I have sinned against heaven, and
before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son:
make me as one of thy hired servants.
CYIRISTMAS AT ,EA 9I
All day we hauled the frozen sheets, and got no further
forth ; 10
All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread,
For very life and nature we tacked from Head to IIead.
We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide-race
roared,
But every tack we made we brought the lorth Ilead
close aboard ;
So's we saw cliffs and houses, and the breakers running
high, 15
And the coast-guard in his garden, with his glass against
his eye.
The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean
foam ;
The good red fires were burning bright in every 'long-
shore home ;
The windows sparkled clear, and the chimneys volleyed
out;
And I vow we sniffed lhe victuals, as the vessel went
about. 20
The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty
jovial cheer ;
For it's just that I should tell you how (of all days in
the year)
This day of our adversity was Llessd Christmas morn,
And the house above the coast-guard's was the house
where I was born.
0 well I saw the pleasant room, the pleasant faces
there, 25
92 CHaISAS Ar
My mother's silver spectacles, my father's silver hair;
And well I saw the firelight, like a flight of homely elves,
Go dancing round the china plates that stand upon the
shelves.
And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that waa
of
Of the shadow on the household and the son that went
to sea ; 30
And 0 the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way,
To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessbd Christ-
mas day.
They lit the high sea-light, and the dark began to fall.
"All hands to loose topgallant sails," I heard the
captain call.
"Captain, she'll never stand it," our first mate, Jackson,
cried. 35
"It's the one way or the other, Mr. Jackson," he replied.
She staggered to her bearings, but the sails were new
and good,
And the ship smelt up to windward just as though she
understoo(l.
As the winter's day was ending, in the entry of the
night,
We cleared the weary headland, and passed below the
light. 40
And they heaved a mighty breath, every soul on board
but me,
As they saw her nose again pointing handsome out to
sea ;
THE PEZ 97
Silent that youthful warrior stood--
Silent he pointed to the flood
All crimson with his country's blood,
Then sent his last remaining dart,
For answer, to th' invader's heart.
4O
False flew the shaft, though pointed well;
The tyrant lived, the hero fell! 45
Yet marked the Peri where he lay,
And when the rush of war was past,
Swiftly descending on a ray
Of morning light, she caught the last,
Last glorious drop his heart had shed, 50
Before its free-born spirit fled!
"Be this," she cried, as she winged her flight,
"My welcome gift at the Gates of Light."
"Sweet," said the Angel, as she gave
The gift into his radiant hand, 55
"Sweet is our welcome of the brave
Who die thus for their native land.-
But see--alas !--the crystal bar
Of Eden moves not--holier far
Than e'en this drop the boon must be, 60
That opes the Gates of Heaven for thee!"
But nought can charm the luckless Peri;
Her soul is sad, her wings are weary.
When, o'er the vale of Balbec wining
Slowly, she sees a child at play,
Among the rosy wild-flowers singing,
As rosy and as wild as they;
Chasing, with eager hands and eyes,
98 I->ARADISE AND THE PERI
The beautiful blue damsel-flies
That fluttered round tile jasmine stems,
Like wingbd flowers or flying gems:
And, near the boy, who, tired with play,
Now nestling 'mid the roses lay,
She saw a wearied man dismount
From his hot steed, and on the brink
Of a small imaret's rustic fount
Impatient fling him down to drink.
Then swift his haggard brow he turned
To the fair child, who fearless sat,
Though never yet hath daybcam burned
Upon a brow more fierce than that.
But hark! the vesper call to prayer,
As slow the orb of daylight sets,
Is rising sweetly on the air,
From Syria's thousand minarets!
The boy has started from the bed
Of flowers, where he had laid his head,
And down upon the fragrant sod
Kneels, with his forehead to tile south,
Lisping th' eternal name of God
From purity's own cherub mouth.
And how felt be, the wretched man,
Reclining there--while memory ran
O'er many a year of guilt and strife,
Flew o'er the dark flood of his life,
Nor found one sunny resting-place,
Nor brought him back one branch of grace ?
"There was a time," he said, in mild,
Heart-humbled tones, "thou blessed child!
7O
75
8O
0
85
THE LADY OF SJI.LOr 101
By the margin, willow-veil'd,
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who has seen her wave her hand ?
Or at the casement seen her stand ?
Or is she known in ll the land,
The Lady of Shalott?
Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes chcerly
From the river winding clearly,
Down to tower'd Cmnelot:
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers " 'Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott."
PART II
There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is )n her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be.
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.
And moving thro' a mirror clear
That hangs before hr all the year,
TE LxDY Or SYIALOTT 103
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.
The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armour rung,
Beside remote Shalott.
All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Moves over still Shalott.
His broad clear b'ow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnished hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
104 -z LADY OF SHALOTT
From the bank and from the river
IIe flash'd into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.
She
She
She
She
Out
left the web, she left the loom,
made three paces thro' the room,
saw the water-lily bloom,
saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.
PART IV
In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yello woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining,
IIeavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Cmnelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And round about the prow she wrote
The Lady of ,'halotl.
And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold ser in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance---
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain and down she lay;
THE L.DY OF SH,LOW 105
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.
Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right--
The leaves upon her falling light--
Thro' the noises of the night
She floated don to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.
Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darken'd wholly,
Ttzrn'd to tower'd Camelot.
For ere she reaeh'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.
Under tower and balcony,
By gardeu-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
And round the prow they read her name,
Tle Lady of Shalott.
114
BaBARA FRIETCHIE i
Forty flags with their silver stars,
Forty flags with their crimson bars,
Flapped in the morning wind: the sun
Of noon looked down, and saw not one.
Up'rose old Barbara Frietchie then,
Bowed with her fourscore years and tin;
Bravest of all in Frederick town,
She took up the flag the men hauled down;
In her attic window the staff she set,
To show that one heart was loyal yet.
15
2O
Up the street came the rebel tread,
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.
Under his slouched hat left and right
Ite glanced; the old flag met his sight.
"Italt !"--the dust-brown ranks stood fast.
"Fire !"--out blazed the rifle-blast.
It shivered the window, pane and sash;
It rent the banner with seam and gash.
Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff
Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf;
She leaned far out on the window-sill,
And shook it forth with a royal will.
25
3O
BLESS THE LOR), O My SOJ, 117
Who forgiveth all thine iniquities;
Who healeth all thy diseases;
Who redeemeth thy life from destruction;
Who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender
mercies :
Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things;
So that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's.
The Lord executeth righteousne.s
And judgment for all that are oppressed.
He made known his ways unto Moses,
His acts unto the children of Israel.
The Lord is merciful and gracious,
Slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy.
He will not always chide:
Neither will he keep his anger for ever.
He hath not dealt with us after our sins;
Nor rewarded us according to our iniquities.
For as the heaven is high above the earth,
So great is his mercy toward them that fear him.
As far as the east is from the west,
So far hath lie removed our transgressions from u.
Like as a father pitioth his children,
So the Lord pitieth them that fear hiln.
For lie l,noweth our frame;
He remembereth that we are dust.
As for man, his da.x:s are as grass:
As a flower of the field, so he flourisheth.
For the wind pas.eth over it. and it is gone;
And the place thereof shall know it no more.
120 THE KING OF GLORY
For He hath founded it upon the seas,
And established it upon the floods.
Who shall ascend into the hill of the LORD
And who shall stand in His holy place ?
SECOND CHOIR
lie that hath clean hands, and a pure heart;
Who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity,
And hath not sworn deceitfully.
He shall receive a blessing from the LORD,
And righteousness from tile God of his salvation.
This is the generation of theln that seek after Him,
That seek Thy face, 0 God of Jacob.
II.--Before the Gates
FIRST CHOIR
Lift up your heads, 0 ye gate.;
And be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors:
And the King of Glory shall come in.
SECOND CHOIR
Who is the King of Glory?
FIRST CHOIR
The LORD strong and mighty,
The LORD mighty in battle.
FII%S T CtOIR
Lift up your heads, 0 ye gates;
122 T3_ FOUR-IIorsE RACE
could not tell the noment they might bolt or kick things
to pieces.
2. Being the only non-partisan in the crowd, I was
asked to referee. The race was about half a mile and
return, the first and last quarters being upon the ice.
The course, after leaving the ice, led up from the river
by a long, easy slope to the level above; and at the
further end, curved somewhat sharply around he Old
Fort. The ouly condition attaching to tl'.e race was, that
the teams should start from the scratch, make the turn
oi tile Fort, and finish at the scratch. There were no
vexing regulations as to fouls. The man making the
foul would find it necessary to reckon with the crowd,
which was considered sufficient guarantee for a fair and
square race. Owing to the hazards of the course, the
result would depend upon the skill of the drivers quite
as much as the speed of the teams. The points of
hazard were at the turn round the Old Fort, and at a
little ravine which led down to the river, over which the
road passed by means of a l,n, log bridge or causeway.
3. From a point upon the high bank of the river, the
whole course lay in open view. It wa, a scene full of
life and vividly picturesque. There were nfiners in dark
clothes and peak caps; citizens in ordinary garb; ranch-
men in wide cowboy hats and buckskin shirts and leg-
gings, some with cartridge-belts and pistols; a few
half-breeds and Indians in half-native, half-civilized
dress; and scattering through the crowd, the lumbermen
with gay scarlet and blue blanket coats, and some with
knitted tuques of the same colour. A very good-natured
but extremely uncertain crowd it was. At the head of
each horse stood a man, but at the pintos' heads Baptiste
stood alone, trying to hold down the off-leader, thrown
THE FOUR-IIORSE RACE 123
into a frenzy of fear by the yelling of the crowd.
4. Gradually all became quiet, till, in the midst of
absolute stillness, came the wore]s: "Are you ready?"
then the pistol-shot, and the great race had begun.
Above the roar of the crowd came the shrill cry of
Baptiste, as he struck his br.nch with the palm of his
hand, and swung himself into the sleigh beside Sandy, as
it shot iast.
5. Like a flash the bronchos sprang to the front, two
lengths before the other teams; but, terrified by the
yelling of the crowd, instead of bending to the left bank
up which the road wound, they wheeled to the right and
were ahnost across the river before Sandy could swing
them back into the course.
6. Baptiste's cries, a curious mixture of Fren.h and
English, continued to strike through all other sounds,
till they gained the top of the slope to find the others
almost a hundred yaxds in fr,nt, the citizens' team
leading, with the miners' following close. The moment
the pintos caught sight of the tcans before thegn, they
set off at a terrific pace and steadily devoured the inter-
vening space. Nearer and nearer the turn came, the
eight horses in front, running straight and well within
their speed. After them flew the pintos, running
savagely with ears set back, leading well the big roans,
thundering along and gaining at every bound. And
now the citizens' team had almost reached the Fort,
running hard and drawing away from the bays. But
Nixon knew what he was about, and was simply steady-
ing his team for the turn. The event proved his
wisdom, for in the turn the leading team left the track,
lost a moment or two in the deep snow, and before they
could regain the road, the bays had swept superbly past,
THE GLOVE AND TIIE LIONS
King Francis was a hearty king, and lov'd a royal sport,
And one day, as his lions strove, sat looking on the
court ;
The nobles fill'd the benches round, the ladies by their
side,
And 'mongst thegn 'ount de Lorge, with one he hoped
to make his bride;
And truly 'twas a gallant thing to sec that crowning
show, 5
Valour and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts
below.
Ramp'd and roar'd the lions, with horrid laughing
jaws ;
They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind
went with their paws;
With wallowing might and stifled roar, they roll'd one
on another,
Till all the pit, with sand and mane, was in a thund'rous
smother ; 10
The bloody foam ahove the bars came whizzing through
the air;
Said Francis then, "Good gentlemen, we're better here
than there !"
De Lorge's love o'erhcard the King, a beauteous, lively
dame,
With smiling lips, and sharp bright eyes, which always
seem'd the same:
131
134 TI=IE FICKLENESS OF A ROI,N IOB
them. As proper men as ever trod upon neat's leather
have gone upon my handiwork.
Flay. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day?
Why dost thou lead these men ahout the streets?
2 Cir. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get30
myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make
holiday to see ('tesar, and to rejoice in his triumph.
Mar. Whcrefore rcjoice? What conquest brings he
home ?
What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels? 35
You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!
O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of lome,
Knew yott not Ponpc.v? Many a time and oft
I]ave you climbed up to walls and battlements,
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, 40
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
The livelong day, with patient expectation,
To see grct Pompey pass the streets of Rome;
And wl:n you saw his 'hariot but appear,
Ilave you not made an universal shout, 45
That Tiber trembled und,.rneath her banks,
To hear the replication of your sounds
Made in her concave shores?
And do you now put on your best attire?
And do you now cull mt a holiday? 50
And do you now strew flowers in his way
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood ?
Be gone !
lun to your houses,fall upon your knees,
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague 55
That needs must light on this ingratitude.
Flay. Go, go, good countrymen, and for this fault
138 Sm PETER AND L.DY TEAZLE
content to ride double, behind the butler, on a docked
coach horse.
Lady Teazle.--No--I swear. I never did that: I deny
the butler and the coach horse.
Sir Peter.--This, madam, was your situation; and
what have I done for you I have made you a woman
of fashion, of fortune, of rank,--in short, I have made
you my wife.
Lady Teazle.--Well, then, and there is but one thing
more you can make me t,, add to the obligation, that is
'ir Peter.--My widow, I suppose?
Lady Teazle.--Hem ! hem !
Sir P(trr.--I thank you., madam--but don't flatter
yourself, for, tltough your ill conduct may disturb my
peace of mind, it shall never break my heart, I promise
you: however, I am equally obliged to you for the
hint.
Lady Tcazlc.Then why will you endeavour to make
yourself so disagreeable to me, and thwart me in every
little elegant expense.
Sir Peter.--Oons! madam, I say, had you any of
these little elegant expenses when you married me?
Lady Teazle. Lud, Sir Peter! would you have me be
out of the fashion?
Sir Peler.--The fashion, indeed! what had you to do
with the fashion before you married me?
Lady Tcazle.--For my part, I should think you would
like to have your wife thought a woman of taste.
Sir Pelcr.Ay----there againtaste ! Zounds ! madam,
you had no taste when you married me!
Lady Teazte.That's very true, indeed, Sir Peter!
THE PARTING OF [ARMION AND DOUGLAS 141
"Though something I might plain," he said,
"Of cold respect to stranger guest,
Sent hither by your King's behest,
While in Tantallon's towers I stayed;
Part we in friendship from your land,
And, noble earl, receive my hand."
But Douglas round him drew his cloak,
Folded his arms, and thus he spoke:
"My manors, halls, and bowers, shall still
Be open, at my Sovereign's will,
To each one whom he lists, howe'er
Unmeet to be the owner's peer.
My castles are my King's alone,
From turret to foundation-stone:
The hand of Douglas is his own;
And never shall, in friendly grasp,
The hand of such as Marmion clasp."
Burned Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire,
And shook his very frane for ire;
And---" This to me," he said,
"An 't were not for thy hoary beard,
Such hand as Marmion's had not spared
To cleave the Douglas' head!
And, first, I tell thee, haughty peer,
He who does England's message here,
Although the meanest in her state,
May well. proud Angus, be thy mate:
And. Douglas, more I toll thee here,
Even in thy pitch of pride
Here in thy hold, thy vassals near
15
2O
25
3O
35
4O
142 Tv. PARTING OF IARMION AND DOUGLAS
(Nay, never look upon your lord,
And lay your hands upon your sword,)
I tell thee, thou'rt defied!
And if thou saidst, I am not peer
To any lord in Scotland here,
Lowland or IIighland, far or near,
Lord Angus, thou hast lied!"
45
On the Earl's cheek tile flush of rage 50
O'ereame tile ashen hue of age:
Fierce he broke forth: "_And darest thou, then,
To beard the lion in his den,
The Douglas in his hall ?
And hopest thou hence unscathed to go?-- 55
No, by Sait P, ride of Bothwell, no !--
I'p drawbridge, grooms !--what, Warder, ho!
Let the portcullis fall."
Lord Marmion turned.--well was his need,--
And (lashed the rowels in his steed,
Like arrow through tile archway sprung,
The, ponderous grate behind him rung:
To pass there was such scanty room,
The bars, descending, grazed his plume.
6O
The steed along the drawbridge flies,
Just as it trembl,-s on the rise;
Nor lighter does tire swallow skim
.long the smooth lake's level brim:
And when Lord 3[armion reached his band,
IIe halts, and turns with clenched hand,
And shout of loud defiance pours,
And shook his gauntlet at the towers
65
7O
COLUMBUS
"IIorse ! horse !" the Douglas cried,
But soon lie reined his fury's pace:
"A royal messenger he came,
Though most unworthy of the name.
A letter forged! Saint Jude to speed!
Did ever knight so foul a deed!
At first, in heart, it liked me ill,
When the King praised his clerkly skill.
Thanks to Saint llothan, son of mine,
Save Gawain, m'er couhl pen a line.
Saint Mary mend my fiery mood!
Ohl age n-'cr cools the Douglas blood;
I thonght to slay him where he stood.
"Tis pity of him, h,o," he cried:
"Bohl can he speak, and fairly ride:
I warrant him a warrior tried."--
With this his mandate he recalls,
And slowly seeks his castle halls.
143
"and chase
--Sir Walter
8O
85
9O
In what Quality of voice mion and Douglas, 11. 14-18, and
should the following passages II. 21-29; (d) the second
of this poem be read: (a) the speeches of Iarmion and Doug.
descriptive parts; (b) I. 10; las, II. 32-49, and II..52-56;
(c) the first speeches of Mar- (e) II. 57-58, and l]. 7.5-88?
(_OLt.IBkS
Behind him lay the gray Azores.
Behind him the gates of IIercules;
Before him not the ghost of shores,
Before him only shoreless seas.
14 i COLU.lkBUS
The good mate said: "Now we must pray,
For, lo! the very stars are gone.
Brave Adm'r'l, speak; what shall I say?"
"Why, say: 'Sail on! sail on! and on!' "
5
"My men grow mutinous day by day;
My men grow ghastly wan and weak."
The stout mate thought of home; a spray
Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek.
"What shall I say, brave Adm'r'l, say,
If we sight naught but seas at dawn?"
"Why, you shall say, at break of day:
'Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!' "
10
15
They sailed and sailed as winds might blow,
Until at last the blanched mate said:
"Why, now not even God would know
Should I and all my men fall dead.
These very winds forget the way,
For God from these dread seas is gone.
Now speak, brave Adm'r'l, speak and say---"
He said : "Sail on ! sail on ! and on !"
2O
They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate: 25
"This mad sea shows his teeth to-night;
He curls his lip, he lies in wait,
With lifted teeth as if to bite:
Brave Adm'r'l, say but one good word;
What shall we do when hope is gone ?" 30
The words leapt as a leaping sword:
"Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!"
FROM THE "APOLOGY" OF SOCRATES 147
that immediately after my death punishment far heavier
than you have inflicted on me will surely await you. Me
you have killed because you wanted to escape the
accuser, and not to give an account of your lives. But
that will not be as you suppose: far otherwise. For :I
r, ay that there will be more accusers of you than there
are now; accusers whom hitherto I have restrained: and
as they are younger they will be more severe with you,
and you will be more offended at them. For if you
think that by killing men you can avoid the accuser cen-
suring your lives, you are mistaken; that is not a way
of escape which is either possible or honourable; the
easiest and the noblest way is not to be crushing others,
but to be improviug yourseh'es. This is the prophecy
which I utter before my departure to the judges who
have condemned me.
3. Friends, who would have acquitted me, 1 would like
also to talk with you about this thing which has happened,
while the mastrates are busy, and before I go to the
place at which I must die. Stay then a while, for we
may as well talk with one another wlfile there is trine.
You are my friends, and I should like to show you the
meaning of this event which has happened to me. O
my judges---for you I may truly call judges--I should
like to tell you of a wonderful circumstance. IIitherto
the 2amiliar oracle within me has constantly been in the
habit of opposing me even about trifles, if I was going
to make a slip or error about anything ; and now, as you
see, there has come upon me that which may be thought.
nd is generally believed to be, the last and worst evil.
But the oracle made no sign of opposition, either as I
was leaving my house and going out in the morning, or
when I was going up into this court, or while I ws
148 FROM THE ".APOLOGY" OF OCRATES
speaking, at anything which I was going to say; and
yet I have often been stopped in the middle of a speech,
but now in nothing I either said or did touching this
matter has the oracle opposed me. What do I take to
be the explanation of this? I will tell you. I regard
lhis as a proof that what has happened to me is a good,
and that those of us who think that death is an evil are
in error. This is a great proof to me of what I am
saying, for the customary sign would surely have opposed
me had I been going to evil and not to good.
4. Let us reflect in another way, and we shall see that
there is a great reason to hope that death is a good, for
one of two things: either death is a state of nothing-
ness and utter unconsciousness, or, as men say, there is
a change and migrati,,n of the soul from this world to
another. Now if you suppose that there is no conscious-
ness, but a sleep like the sleep of him who is undisturbed
even by the sight of dreams, death will be an tmspeakable
gain. For if a person were to select the night in which
his sleep was undisturbed even hy dreams, and were to
compare with this the other days and nights of his life,
and then were to tell us how many days and nights he
l,ad passed in the course of his life better and more
pleasantly than this one, I think that any man, I will
not say a private man, but even the great king will not
find ninny su,:h days or nights, when compared with the
others. Now if d,ath is like this, I say that to die is
gain; for eternity is then only a single night. But if
death is the journey to another place, and there, as men
s,%v, all the dead are, what good, 0 my friends and
judges, can be greater than this? If indeed when the
pilgrim arrives in the world below, he is delivered from
:he professors of justice in this world, and finds the true
HIGIILAND IIOSPITALITY
- From "She Lady of the Lake"
The shades of eve come slowly down,
The woods are wrapt in deeper brown,
The owl awakens from her dell,
The fox is heard upon the fell;
Enough remains of glimmering li,ht 5
To guide lhe wandorer's steps arighl,
Yet not enough from far to show
His figure to the watchful foe.
With cautious step, and ear awake,
He climbs the crag and thr.ads the brake; 10
And not the summer solstice tlwre,
Tempered the mi.dnight mountain air,
But every breeze that swept tile wold,
Benumbed his drenched limbs with cold.
In dread, in danger, and alone, 15
Famished and chilled, through ways unknown.
Tangled and sleep, he journeyed on:
Till, as a rock's hnge point be
A watch-fire close before him burned.
Beside its embers red and .lear. 2o
Basked, in his plaid, a mount,qineer;
And up he sprung with sw,rd in hand.
"Thy name and pnrpose! Saxon, stand
"A stranger. "---" What dost thou require?"--
"Rest and a gnido, and food and fire. 25
My life's beset, my path is lost.
The gale has chilled nay limbs with fro.t."
"Art thou a friend to Roderiek ?"" No.'
151
OUTLAW
And as I rode by Dalton-Hall,
Beneath the turrets high,
A Maiden on the castle wall
Was singing merrily,--
"0, Brignall banks are fresh and fair,
And Greta woods are green;
I'd rather rove with Edmund there
Than reign our English queen."--
"If, Maiden, thou would'st wend with me,
To leave 1)oth tower and town,
Thou first must guess what life lead we
That dwell by dale and down.
And if thou canst that riddle read,
As read full well you may,
Then to the greenwood shalt thou speed
As blithe as Queen of May."---
Yet sung she, "Brignall banks are fair,
And Greta woods are green;
I'd rather rove with Edmund there
Than reign our English queen.
"I read you by your bugle-horn,
And by your palfrey good,
I read you for a Ranger sworn,
To keep the king's greenwood."--
"A Ranger, lady, winds his horn,
And 'tis at peep of light;
His blast is heard at merry morn,
And mine at dead of night."--
155
5
10
15
2{)
25
30
156 TXE OUTLAW
Yet sung she, "Brignall banks are fair,
And Greta woods are gay;
I would I were with Edmund there,
To reign his Queen of May!
35
"With burnish'd brand and musketoon,
So gallantly you come,
I read you for a bold Dragoon,
That lists the tuck of drum."--
"I list no more the tuck of drum,
No more the trumpet bear:
But when the beetle sounds his hum
My corm'aries take the spear.
4O
"And O! though Brignall banks be fair
And Greta woods be gay,
Yet mickle must the maiden dare
Would reign my Queen of May!
45
"Maiden! a nameless life I lead,
A nameless death I'll die! 50
The fiend whose lantern lights the mead
Were better mate than I!
And when I'm with my comrades met
Beneath the greenwood bough,
What once we were we all forget, 55
Nor tllink what we are now.
"Yet Brignall banks are fresh and fair,
And Greta woods are green,
And you may gather garlands there
Would grace a summer queen." 60
OF STUI)IES 157
PREPARATORY.--' ' The Life of an Outlaw." Speak on this
subject, illustrating from such characters as Rob Roy, Robin Hood,
etc., and emphasizing the pathos of such a life.
For dramatic rendering see preparatory notes on Higldand
Hospitality.
1-4. What Stress indicates Give examples of Grouping
the state of mind reflected ty throughout the poem and show
these lines? (Introduction, how the Pause is affected. In-
p. 29.) troduetion, p. ll.)
3, 11. What Inflection is
,laced on THERE? (Introduc- What words in stanza iii
tion, p. 16.) are emphatic throngh contrast?
In stanza v?
12. What word may be stp-
plied after REraN? How is this What feeling in the last half
indicated in the reading? (In- of stanza v? (Introduction,
troduction, p. 10.)
pp. 1)-12. In what Time,
13-20. Read these lines with Pitch, and Force are these
a view to Perspective. (In- lines read? Give your reasons.
troduction, p. 33.)
OF STUDIES
From the "Essays"
Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for
ability. Their chief use for delight, is in privateness
and retiring; for ornament, is in discourse; and for
ability, is in the judgment and disposition of business.
For expert men can execute, and perhaps judge of
particulars, one by one; but the general counsels, and
the plots, and marshalling of affairs, come best from
those that are learned.
To spend too much time in studies, is sloth; to use
them too much for ornament, is affectation; to make
judgment wholly by their rules, is the humour of a
scholar. They perfect nature and are perfected by
experience: for natural abilities are like natural plants,
THE INFLUENCE OF xTHENS
159
PREPARATRY.--Observe the sentence structure employed
throughout this extract, and make a list of the antithetical words
and phrases.
This lesson may be used as an exercise to illustrate the prin-
ciple of Inflection as applied to antithetical words or phrases and
to series of words or phrases parallel in construction. (Introduc-
t-ion, p. 20.)
TtIE INFLUENCE OF ATIIENS
From essay "On M|tford's History of Greece"
If we consider merely the subtlety of disquisition, the
force of imagination, the perfect energy and elegance
of expressi,m, which characterize the great works of
Athenian genius, we nmst pronounce them intrinsically
most vahmble. But what .shall we say 'hen we reflect
that from hence have sprung, directly or indirectly,
all the noblest creations of the human intellect; that
from hence -ere the vast accomplishments and the
brilliant fancy of Cicero, the withering fire of Juvenal,
the plastic imagination of Dante, tile humour of Cer-
vantes, the comprehension of Bacon, tile wit of l-]utler,
the supreme and universal excellence of Shakespeare?
All the triumphs of truth and genius over prejudice
and power, in every country and in every age, have been
the triumphs of Athens. 'herever a few great minds
have made a stand against violence and fraud, in the
cause of liberty and reason, there has been her spirit in
the midst of them; inspiring, encouraging, consoling;-
by the lonely lamp of Erasmus, by the restless bed of
Pascal, in the tribune of Mirabeau, in the cell of Galileo,
on the seaffold of Sidney.
]3ut who shall estimate her influence on private happi-
ness? Who shall say how many thousands have been
NATIONAL IORtLITY 161
ledge shall have fixed their abode in distant continents;
when the sceptre shall have passed away from England;
when, perhaps, travellers from distant regions shall in
vain labour to decipher on some mouldering pedestal the
name of our proudest chief, shall hear savage hymns
chaunted to some misshapen idol over the ruined dome
of our proudest temple, and shall see a single naked
fisherman wash his nets in the river of the ten thousand
masts,--her influence and her glory, will still survive,-
fresh in eternal youth, exempt from mutability and
decay, immortal as the intellectual principle from which
they derived their origin, and over which they exercise
their control.
Illustrate from this lesson
the principle of Inflection as
applied to (1) a series of words
parallel in construction; (2)
rhetorical questions.
--Macaulay
How should the principal
clause in the last paragraph be
made prominent by the voice?
(Introduction, p. 33.)
NATIONAL MORALITY
1. I believe there is no permanent greatness to a
nation except it be based upon morality. I do not care
for military greatness or military, renown. I care
for the condition of the people among whom I live.
There is no man in England who is less likely to speak
irreverently of the Crown and Monarchy of England
than I am; but crowns, coronets, mitres, military
display, the pomp of war, wide colonies, and a huge
empire, are, in my view, all trifles light as air, and not
worth considering, unless with them you can have a
fair share of comfort, contentment, and happiness, among
the great body of the people. Palaces, baronial castles,
great halls, stately mansions, do not make a nation.
T_E ISLAND OF Tt:IE SCOTS 169
For not alone the river's sweep might make a brave man
quail ;
The foe are on the further side, their shot comes fast as
hail.
God help us, if the middle isle we may not hope to win; 5
Now is there any of the host will dare to venture in?"
"The ford is deep, the banks are steep, the island-shore
lies wide ;
Nor 1nan nor horse could stein its force, or reach the
further side.
See there! amidst the willow-boughs the serried bayonets
gleam ;
They've flung their bridge,--they've won the isle; the l0
foe have cross'd the stream!
Their volley flashes sharp and strong,--by all the saints!
I trow
There never yet was soldier born could force that passage
now !"
So spoke the bold French Mareschal with him who led
the van,
Whilst rough and red before their view the turbid river
ran.
Nor bridge nor boat had they to cross the wild andl5
swollen Rhine,
And thundering on the other bank far stretch'd the
German line.
Hard by there stood a swarthy man was leaning on his
sword,
And a sadden'd smile lit up his face as he heard the
Captain's word.
"I've seen a wilder stream ere now than that which
rushes there ;
170
THE ISLAND OF TIIE ('oTS
I've sternm'd a heavier torrent yet and never thought to 20
dare.
If German steel be sharp and keen, is ours not strong
and true ?
There may be danger in the deed. but there is honour
tOO. ' '
The old lord in his saddle turn'd, and hastily he said,
"Hath bold Duguesclin's fiery heart awaken'd from the
dead ?
Thou art the leader of the Scots,--now well and sure 1 25
know,
That gentle blood in dangerous hour ne'er yet ran cold
nor slow,
And I bare seen ye in the fight do all that mortal may:
If honour is the boon ye seek, it may be won this day,--
The prize is in the middle isle, there lies the adventurous
way,
And armies twain are on the plain, the daring deed to 30
see,--
Now ask thy gallant company if they will follow thee!"
Right gladsome look'd the Captain then, and nothing
did he say,
But he turn'd him to his little band, O, few, I ween,
were the)" !
The relies of the bravest foree that ever fought in fray.
No one of all that company but bore a gentle name, 35
Not one whose fathers had not stood in Scotland's fields
of fame.
All they had march'd with great Dundee to where he
fought and fell,
rrlKE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS 171
And in the deadly battle-strife had venged their leader
well ;
And they had bent the knee to earth when every eye was
dim,
As o'er their hero's buried corpse they sang the funeral 40
hymn ;
And they had trod the Pass once more, and stoop'd on
either side.
To pluck the heather from the spot where he had dropp'd
and died ;
And the), had bound it next their hearts, and ta'en a last
farewell
Of Scottish earth and Scottish sl-, where Scotland's
glory fell.
Then went they forth to foreign lands like bent and 45
broken men,
Who leave their dearest hope behind, and may not turn
again.
"The stream," he said, "is broad and deep, and stub-
born is the foe,--
Yon island-strength is" guarded well,--say, brothers, will
ye go ?
From home and kin for man), a year our steps have
wander'd wide,
And never may our bones be laid our fathers' graves 50
beslde.
No children have we to lament, no wives to wail our fall ;
The traitor's and the spoiler's hand have reft our
hearths of all.
But we have hearts, and we have arms, as strong to will
and dare
172 THE ISLXND OF THE SCOTS
As when our ancient banners flew within the northern
air.
Come, brothers! let me name a spell shall rouse your 55
souls again,
And send the old blood hounding free through pulse and
heart and vein.
Call back the days of bygone years,--be young and
strong once more;
Think yonder stream, so stark and red, is one we've
cross'd before.
Rise, lfill and glen! rise, crag and wood! rise up on
either hand,-
Again upon the Garry's banks, on Scottish soil we60
stand !
Again I see the tartans wave, again the-trumpets ring;
Again I hear our leader's call: 'Upon them for the
King !'
Stay'd we behind that glorious day for roaring flood or
l_inn ?
The soul of Grmme is with us still,--now, brothers, will
ye in?"
No stay,--no pause. With one accord, they grasp'd each 65
other's hand,
Then plunged into the angry flood, that bold and daunt-
less band.
High flew the spray above their heads, yet onward still
they bore,
Midst cheer, and shout, and answering yell, and shot,
and cannon-roar,--
"Now, by the IIoly Cross! I swear, since earth and sea
began,
Was never such a daring deed essay'd by mortal man!"70
THE ISLAND OF THE SCOT 173
Thick blew thc smoke across the stream, and faster
flash'd the flame:
The water plash'd in hissing jets as ball and bullet came.
Yet onward push'd the Cavaliers all stern and undis-
may 'd,
With thousand armed foes before, and none behind to
aid
Once, as they near'd the middle strcam, so strong the75
torrent swept,
That scarce that long and living wall their dangerous
footing kept.
Then rose a warning c.ry behind, a joyous shout before:
"The current's strong,--the way is long,--they'll never
reach the shore!
See, see! they stagger in the midst, they waver in their
line !
Fire on the madmen ! break their ranks, and whehn them 80
in the Rhine !"
Have you seen the tall trees swaying when the blast is
sounding shrill,
And the whirlwind reels in fury down the gorges of the
hill ?
How they toss their mighty branches struggling with the
tempest's shock ;
How they keep their place of vantage, cleaving firnfly
to the rock?
Even so the Scottish warriors held their own against the 85
river ;
Though the water flashed around them, not an eye was
seen to quiver ;
Though the shot flew sharp and deadly, not a man
relax'd his hold;
174 TF IL_N) OF TrE SCOTS
For their hearts were big and thrilling with the mighty
thoughts of old.
One word was spoken among them, and through the
ranks it spread,-
' Remember our dead Clavcrhouse !" was all the Captain 90
said.
Then, sternly bending forward, they wrestled on a while,
Until they clear'd the heavy stream, then rush'd toward
the isle.
The German heart is stout and true, the German arm
is strong ;
The German foot goes seldom back where armed foemen
throng.
But never had they faced in field so stern a charge95
before,
And never had they felt the sweep of Scotland's broad
claymore.
Not fiercer pours the avalanche adown the steep incline,
That rises o'er the parent springs of rough and rapid
Rhine,--
Scarce suifter shoots the bolt from heaven than came
the Scottish hand
Right up against the guarded trench, and o'er it sword 100
in hand.
]n vain their leaders forward press,they meet the
deadly brand !
O lonely island of the Rhine,--where seed was never
sown,
What harvest lay upon thy sands, by those strong
reapers thrown ?
SIR GAL.HAD 183
The hard brands shiver on the steel,
The splinter'd spear-shafts crack and fly,
The horse and rider reel:
They reel, they roll in clanging lists,
And when the tide of combat stands,
Perfmne and flowers fall in showers,
That lightly rain from ladies' hands.
How sweet are looks that ladies bend
On whom their favours fall!
For them I battle till the end,
To save from shame and thrall:
But all my heart is drawn above,
My knees are bow'd in crypt and shrine:
I never felt the kiss of love,
Nor maiden's haud in mine.
More bounteous aspects on me beam,
Me mightier transports move and thrill;
So keep I fair thro' faith and prayer
A virgin heart in work and will.
When down the stormy crescent goes,
A light before me swims,
Between dark stems the forest glows,
I hear a noise of hymns:
Then hy some secret shrine I ride;
I hear a voice but none are there;
The stalls are void, the doors are wide,
The tapers burning fair.
Fair gleams the snowy altar-cloth,
The silver vessels sparkle clean,
The shrill bell rings, the censer swings,
And solemn chaunts resound between.
10
15
2O
25
35
184 Sm GALAHAD
Sometimes on lnely mountain-meres
I find a magic hark;
I leap on board: no helmsman steers:
I float till all is dark.
A gentle sound, an awful light!
Three angels bear the Itoly Grail;
With folded feet, in stoles of white,
On sleeping wings they sail.
Ah, blessed vision! blood of God!
My spirit beats her mortal bars,
As down dark titles the glory slides,
And star-like mingles with the stars.
4O
45
When on nay goodly charger borne
Thro' dreaming towns I go, 50
The cock crows ere the Christmas morn,
The streets are dumb with snow.
The tempest crackles on the leads,
And, ringing, springs from brand and mail;
But o'er the dark a glory spreads, 55
And gilds the driving hail.
I leave the [,lain, I climb the height;
No branohy thicket shelter yields;
But blessed forms in whistling storms
Fly o'er waste fens and windy fields. 60
A maiden knight--to me is given
Such hope, I know not fear;
I yearn to breathe the airs of heaven
That often meet me here.
I muse on jy that will not cease,
Pure spaces clothed in living beams,
Pure lilies of eternal peace,
65
SONG FOR SAINT CECILIA'S DAY"
November 22, 1687
From harmony, from heavenly harmony
This universal frame began;
When Nature underneath a heap
Of jarring atoms lay,
,nd could not heave hr head,
The tuneful voice was heard from high,
Arise ye more than dead.
Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry,
In order to lheir stations leap,
And Music's power obey.
From harmony, from heavcnly harmony,
This universal frame began;
From harmony to harmony
Through all the compass of the notes it ran,
The diapason closing full in Man.
10
15
What passion cannot 5[usic raise and quell?
When Jubal struck the chorded shell,
His listening brethren stood around.
And, wondering, on their faces fell
To worship that celestial sound; 20
Less than a God they thought there could not dwell
Within the hollow of that shell,
That spoke so sweetly and so well.
What passion cannot Music raise and quell?
186
The trumpet's loud clangour
Excites us to arms
With shrill notes of anger
And mortal alarms.
The double double double beat
Of the thundering drum 30
Cries, Hark! the foes come;
Charge, charge, 'tis too late to retreat!
The soft complaining flute
In dying notes discovers
The woes of hopeless lovers, 35
Whose dirge is whisper'd hy the warbling lute.
Sharp violins proclaim
Their jealous pangs and desperation,
Fury, frantic indignation,
Depth of pains, and height of passion 40
For the fair, disdainful dame.
But oh! what art can teach,
What human voice can reach
The sacred organ's praise?
Notes in.piring holy love,
Notes that winz tlwir heavenly ways
To mend the choirs above.
Orpheus could lead the savage race,
And trees unrooted left their place,
Sequacious of the lyre:
But bright Cecilia rais'd the wonder higher:
When to her organ vocal breath was given
An angel heard, and straight appear'd
Mistaking Earth for Heaven.
187
25
45
5O
THE DAY WAS LINGERING
The day was lingering in the pale northwest,
And night was hanging o'er my head,-
Night where a myriad stars were spread;
While down in the east, where the light was least,
Seem'd the home of the quiet dead. 5
And, as I gazed on the field suhlime,
To watch the bright, pulsating stars,
Adown the deep where the angels sleep
Came drawn the golden chime
Of those great spheres that sound the years 10
For the horologe of time.
Millenniums nmnberless they told,
Millenniums a million-fold
From the ancient hour of prime.
--Chorles tIeavyege
PREPARATORY.mCompare other passages from literature which
suggest the"music of the spheres." for example: Dryden's Song
for 8nt Cecilia's Day, The Moonlight 8cee from Tile Merclat
of Venice, Milton's The Hymn.
What is the atmosphere of II. Read II. 6-11, with a view to
1-47 Of II. 5-147 In what Perspective.
two different Qualities of
voice do the corresponding feel- Note the Grouping in II. 9-11.
ings find expression?
ON FIRST LOOKING INTO CHAPMAN'S IIOMER
Much have I travelled in the reahns of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen ;
Round many western islands have I been,
189
TO NIGIIT
Swiftly walk over the western wave,
Spirit of Night!
Out of the misty eastern cave,
Where, all the long and lone daylight,
Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear,
Which make thee terrible and dear,-
Swift be thy fright!
Wrap thy forn in a mantle gray,
Star-inwrought !
Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day,
Kiss her until she be wearied out,
Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land,
Touching all with thine opiate wand--
Come, long-sought !
10
When I arose and saw the dawn, 15
I sighed for thee;
When light rode high, and the dew was gone,
And noon lay heavy on flower and tree,
And the weary Day turned to his rest,
Lingering like an tmloved guest, 20
I sighed for thee.
Thy brother Death came, and cried,
Wouldst thou me ?
Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed,
Murmured le a noontide bee
93
25
TRtJ o VIRREN H.STIN(]S 195
tions of our constitution were laid; or far away, over
boundless seas and deserts, to dusky nations living under
strange stars, worshipping strange gods, and writing
strange characters from right to left. The IIigh Court
ef Parliament was to sit, according to forms hand.d
down from the days of the Plantagenets, on an English-
man accused of exercising tyranny over the lord of the
holy city of Bcnares and over the ladies of the princely
house of Oude.
The place was worthy of such a trial. It was the
great hall of William Rufus, the hall which had
resounded with acclamations at the inauguration of
thirty kings, the hall which had witnessed the just
sentence of Bacon and the just absoluti,n of ,mers,
the hall where the eloquence of Stratford had for a
moment awed and melted a victorious party inflamed
with just resentment, the hall where Charles had con-
fronted the IIigh Court of Justice with the placid cour-
age which has half redeemed his fame.
Neither military nor civil pomp was 'anting. The
avenues were lined with grenadiers. The streets were
kept clear by cavah-y. The peers, robed in gold anti
ermine, were marshalled by the heralds under Garter
King-at-Arms. The judges in their vestments of state
attended to give advice on points of law. Near a hun-
dred and seventy lords, three fourths of the Upper
IIouse as the Upper IIouse then was, walked in solemn
order from their usual place of assembling to the tribu-
nal. The junior Baron present led the way, George
Eliott, Lord Heathficld, recently ennobled for his memor-
able defence of Gibraltar against the fleets and armies
of France and Spain. The long procession was closed
by the Duke of Norfolk, :Earl Marshal of the realm, by
196
TRLJ OF -V tRREN HASTINGS
the great dignitaries, and by the brothers and sons of
the King. Last of all came the Prince of Wales, con-
spicuous by his fine person and noble bearing.
The gray old walls were hung with scarlet. The long
galleries were crowdrd by an audience such a has rarely
excited the fears or the emulation of an orator. There
were gathered together, from all parts of a great, free,
enlightened and l-,rosperous empire, grace and female
loveliness, wit and learning, the representatives of
every seien,e and of every art. There were seated
round the {ueen, the fair-hair-d young daughters of the
house of Irunswiek. There the Ambassadors of great
Kings and Conmonwealths gazed with admiration on a
speetach, which no other country in the world could pre-
sent. There Siddons, in the prime of her majestic
beauty, looked with emotion on a scene surpassing all
the imitations of the stage. There the historian of the
Roman Empire thought of the days when Cicero pleaded
the cause of Sicily against Verres, and when, before a
senate which still r,tained some show of freedom,
Taeitus thundered against the oppressor of Africa.
There were seen, side 1,y side, the greatest painter and
the greatest scholar of the age. The spectacle had
allured Rynolds from that easel which has preserved
to us the thoughtful foreheads of so many writers and
statesmen, and the sweet smiles of so many noble
matrons. It had induced Parr to suspend his labours
in that dark and profound mine from whi,.h he had
extracted a vast treasure of eruditiona treasure too
often buried in the earth, too often paraded with
injudicious and inelegant ostentation; but still precious,
massive, and splendid. There appeared the voluptuous
oharms of her to whom the heir of the throne had in
198 TRI L OF W RREN lY[ kSTINGS
minded Law, afterwards Chief-Justice of the King's
Bench; the more humane and eloquent Dallas, after-
wards,Chief-Justice of the Common Pleas; and Flomer,
who, near twenty years later, successfully conducted in
the same high court the defence of Lord Melville, and
subsequently became Vice-chancellor hnd 3[aster of the
Rolls.
But neither the culprit nor his advocates attracted
so much notice as the accusers. In the midst of the blaze
of red drapery, a space had been fitted up with green
benches and tables for the Commons. The managers,
with Burke at their head, appeared in full dress. The
collectors of gossip did not fail to remark that even
Fox, generally so regardless of lfis appearance, had paid
to the illustrious tribunal the eompliment of wearing a
bag and sword. Pitt had refused to be one of the con-
ductors of the impeachment; and his commanding,
copious, and sonorous eloquence was Wanting to that
great muster of various talents. Age and blindness had
unfitted Lord North for the duties of a public prose-
eutor; and his friends were left without the help of his
excellent sense, ]fis tact, and his urbanity.
But. iu spite of the absenee of these two distinguished
members of the Lower House, the box in 'hich the man-
agers stood contained an array of speakers such as per-
haps had not appeared together since the great age of
Athenian elo, lucnee. Thee were Fox and Sheridan,
tle English Demosthenes and the English tIyperides.
There was Burke, ignorant, indeed, or negligent of the
art of adapting his reasonings and his style to the
capacity and taste of his hearers, but in amplitude of
comprehension and richness of imagination superior to
every orator, ancient or modern.
TRIAL OF WARREN IISTINGS 199
There, with eyes reverentially fixed on ]urke,
appeared the finest gentleman of the age--his form
developed by every manly exercise, his face beaming
with intelligence and spirit--the ingenious, the chival-
rous, the high-souled Windham. Nor, though sur-
rounded by such men, did the youngest manager pass
unnoticed. At an age when most of those wllO distin-
guish themselves in life are still contending for prizes
and fellowships at college, he had won for himself a
conspicuous place in Parliament. No advantage of
fortune or connection was wanting that couhl sot off to
1he height his splendid talents and his unl,lcmished
honour. At twenty-three he had been thought worthy
to be ranked with the veteran statesmen who appeared
as the delegates of the British Conlmons at the bar of
the British nobility. All who stood at the bar, save him
alone, are gone--culprit, advocates, accusers. To the
generation which is now in the vigour of life, he is the
sole representative of a great age which has passed
away. But those who, within the last ten years, have
listened with d,qight till the morning sun shone on the
tapestries of the IIouse of Lords, to the, lofty and
animated eloquence of Charles, Earl Grey, are able to
form some estimate of the powers of a race of men
among whom he was not the foremost.
The charges, and the answers of IIastings, were first
read. The ceremony occupied two whole days, and was
rendered less tedious than it would otherwise have been
by the silver voice and just emphasis of Cowper, the
clerk of the court, near relation of the amiable poet. On
the third day Burke rose. Four sittings were occupied
by his opening speech, which was intended to 1)e a general
introduction to all the charges. With an exuberance of
200
TRI.L OF W tRREN }IksTINGS
thought and splendour of diction which more than satis-
fied the highly raise& expectations of the audience, he
described the chara'tcr and institutions of the natives
of India; recounted the circumstances in which the
Asiatic empire of Britain had originated; and set forth
the constitution of the Company and of the English
Presidencies. IIaving thus attempted to communicate
to his hearers an idea of Eastern society, as vivid as that
which existed in his own mind, he proceeded to arraign
the administration of IIastings. as systematically con-
ducted in defiance of morality and public law.
The energy and pathos of the great orator extorted
expressions of unwonted adnfiration from the stern and
hostile Chancellor, and, for a moment, seemed to pierce
even the resolute heart of the defendant. The ladies
in the galleries, unaccustomed to such displays of elo-
quence, excited by the solemnity of the occasion, and
perhaps not unwilling to display their taste and sensibil-
ity, were in a state of uncontrollable emotion. IIand-
kerchiefs were pulled out. smelling-bottles were handed
round; hysterical sobs and screams were heard; and
lIrs. Sheridan was carried out in a fit. .a,t length the
orator concluded. ],isbg his voice till the old arches
of Irish oak resound,d: "Therefore." said he. " hath it
with all confidence been ordered hy the Commons of
(reat Britain, that I impeach Warren Hastings of high
crimes and nfisd,,meanours. I impeach him in the name
of tim Commons' Ilouse of Parliament. whose trust he
has betrayed. I impeach him in the nane of the English
nation, whose ancient honour he has sullied. I impeach
him in the name of the people of India. whose rights he
has trodden under foot and whose country he has
turned into a desert. Lastly in the name of human
nature itself, in the nam of both sexes, in the name of
every age, in the name of every rank, I impeach the
commvn enemy and oppressor of all."
--Macaulay
This lesson is an exercise on Inflection, especially as it occurs
on antithetical words or phrases nd on series of words or phrases
parallel in construction. (Introduction, pp. 19 and 20.)
PERORATION OF OPENING SPEECII AGAINST
WARREN IIASTINGS
1. In the name of the Commons of England, I charge
all this villainy upon Warren IIastings, in this last
moment of my application to you.
2. My Lords, what is it that we want here to a great
act of national justice. I)o we want a cause, my Lords ?
You have the cause of oppressed princes, of undone
women of the first rank, of desolated provinces, and of
wasted kingdoms.
3. Do you want a criminal, my Lords? When was
lhere so much iniquity ever laid to the charge of an)-
one? No, my Lords, you must not look to punish any
other such delinquent from India. Warren IIastings
has not left substance enough in India to nourish such
another (lelinquent.
4. My Lords, is it a prosecutor you want ? You have
before you the Commons of Great Britain as prose-
curets; and I believe, my Lords, that the sun, in his
beneficent progress round the world, does not behold a
more glorious sight than that of men. separated from
a remote people by the material bounds and barriers of
nature, united by the bond of a social and moral com-
munity-all the Commons of England resenting, as
202 PERORATION AGtINST WARREN tIASTINGS
their own, the indignities and cruelties that are offered
to all the people of India.
5. Do we 'ant a tribunal ? My Lords, no example
of antiquity, nothing in the modern world, nothing in
the range of human imagination, can supply us with a
tribunal like this. My Lords, here we see virtually, in
the mind's eye, that sacred majesty of the Crown, under
whose authority you sit and whose power you exercise.
We have here all the branches of the royal family, in a
situation between majesty and subjection, between the
sovereign and the subject--offering a pledge in that
situation, for the support of the rights of the Crown
and the liberties of the people, both which extremities
they touch.
6. My Lords, 'e have a great hereditary peerage
here; those who have their own honour, the honour of
their ancestors, and of their posterity, to guard, and who
will justify, as they always have justified, that precision
in the Constitution by which justice is made an hered-
itary office. My Lords, we have here a new nobility,
who have risen and exalted themselves by various merits,
by great civil and military services, which have extended
the fame of this country from the rising to the setting
sun. My Lords, you have here, also, the lights of our
religion; you have the bishops of England. My Lords,
you have that true image of the primitive church in its
ancient form, in its ancient ordinances, purified from the
superstitions and vices which a long succession of ages
will bring upon the best institutions.
7. My Lords, these are the securities which we have
in all the constituent parts of the body of this IIouse.
We know them, we reckon, we rest upon them, and
commit safely the interests of India and of humanity
204 TE SONG MY PADDLE SINGS
But never a favour you bestow.
You rock your cradle the hills between,
But scorn to notice my white lateen.
I stow the sail, unship the mast:
I wooed you long, but my wooing's past;
My paddle will lull you into rest.
O! drowsy wind of the drowsy west,
Sleep, sleep,
By your mountain steep,
Or down where the prairie grasses sweep!
Now fold in slumber your laggard wings,
For soft is the song my paddle sings.
10
15
August is laughing across the sky,
Laughing while paddle, canoe, and I,
Drift, drift,
\Vhere the hills uplift
On either side of the current swift.
2O
The river rolls in its rock.'y bed;
My paddle is plying its way ahead
Dip, dip,
While the waters flip
In foam as over their breast we slip.
25
And oh, the river runs swifter now;
The eddies circle about my bov.
Swirl, swirl !
How the ripples curl
In many a dangerous pool awhirl!
THE DEFENCE OF TIIE ]RIDGE
Then ou spake Spurius Lartius,--
A Ramnian proud was he,--
"Lo, I will stand at thy right hand,
And keep the ])ridge with thee."
And out spakc strong IIerminius,--
Of Titian blood was lle,--
"I will abide on thy h.ft side,
And keep the bridge with thee."
207
25
3O
"Horatius," quoth the Consul,
".ks thou sayest, so let it be."
And straight against that great array
Forth went the dauntless Three.
For Romans in Rome's quarrel
Spared neither land nor gold,
Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life,
In the brave days of old.
35
4O
Then none was for a party;
Then all were for the state;
Then the great man helped the poor,
And the poor man loved the great:
Then lands were fairly portioned;
Then spoils were fairly sold:
The Romans were like brothers
In the brave days of old.
45
Now, Roman is to Roman
More hateful than a foe,
And the Tribunes beard the high,
And the Fathers grind the low.
As we wax hot in faction,
In battle we wax cold:
5O
9.08 TIlE DEFENCE OF THE BRIDGE
Wherefore men fight not as they fought
In the brave days of old.
Now while the Three were tightening
Their harness on their backs,
The Consul was the foremost man
To take in hand an axe:
And Fathers mixed with Commons
Seized hatchet, bar, and crow,
And smote upon the planks above,
And loosed the props below.
hIcanwhile the Tuscan army,
Right glorious to behold,
Came flashing back the noonday light,
Rank behind rank, like surges bright
Of a broad sea of gold.
Four hundred trumpets sounded
A peal of warlike glee,
As that great host with measured tread,
And spears advanced, and ensigns spread,
Rolled slowly towards the bridge's head,
Where stood the dauntless Three.
The Three stood cahn and silent,
And looked upon the foes,
And a great shout of laughter
From all the vanguard rose:
And forth three chiefs came spurring
Before that deep array;
To earth they sprang, their swords they drew,
And lifted high their shields, and flew
To win the narrow way;
55
6O
7O
75
8O
Tm DEFENCE OF THE BRIOGE
Aunus from green Tifernum,
Lord of the Hill of Vines;
And Seius, whose eight hundred slaves
Sicken in Ilva's mines;
And Picus, long to Clusimn
Yassal in peace and war,
Who led to fight his Umbrian powers
From that gray crag where, girt with towers,
The fortress of Nequinum lowers
O'er the pale waves of Nar.
Stout Lartius hurled down Aunus
Into the stream beneath;
Herminius struck at Seius,
And clove him to the teeth;
At Picus brave IIoratius
Darted one fiery thrust;
And the proud Ulnbrian's gilded arms
Clashed in the bloody dust.
Then Ocnus of Falerii
Rushed on the Roman Three;
And Lausulus of Urgo,
The rover of the sea;
And Aruns of Volsinium,
Yho slew the great wild boar,
The great wild boar that had his den
Amidst the reeds of Cosa's fen,
And wasted fields, and slaughtered men,
Along Albinia's shore.
Herminius smote down Aruns;
Lartius laid Ocnus low;
209
85
9O
95
100
105
110
210 THE DEFENCE OF THE BRIDGE
Right to the heart of Lausulus
Horatius sent a blow.
"Lie there," he cried, "fell pirate!
No more, aghast and pale,
From Ostia's walls the crowd shall mark
The track of thy destroying bark.
No more Campania's hinds shall fly
To woods and caverns when they spy
Thy thrice accursed sail."
But now no sound of laughter
Was heard among the foes.
A wild and wrathful clamour
From all the vanguard rose.
Six spears' lengths from the entrance
IIalted that deep array,
And for a space no man came forth
To win the narrow way.
But hark! the cry is Astur:
,ncl lo! the ranks divide,
And the great Lord of Luna
Comes with his stately stride.
Upon his ample shoulders
Clangs loud the fourfold shield,
And in his hand he shakes the brand
Which none but he can wield.
He smiled on those bold Romans
A smile serene and high;
He eyed the flinching Tuscans,
And scorn was in his eye.
Quoth he: "The she-wolf's litter
115
120
125
130
135
140
THE DEFENCE OF THE BRIDGE
Stand savagely at bay;
But will ye dare to follow
If Astur clears the way?"
Then, whirling up his broadsword
With both hands to the height,
He rushed against IIoratius,
And smote with all his might.
With shield and blade IIoratius
Right deftly turned the blow.
The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh;
It missed his hehn, but gashed his thigh:
The Tuscans raised a joyful cry
To see the red blood flow.
He reeled, and on Herminius
IIc leaned one breathing-space;
Then, like a wild eat mad with wounds,
Sprang right at Astur's face.
Through teeth, and skull, and helmet,
So fierce a thrust he sped,
The good sword stood a hand-breadth out
Behind the Tusean's head.
211
14.5
150
155
160
165
And the great Lord of Luna
Fell at that deadly stroke,
As falls on Mount Alvernus
A thunder-smitten oak.
Far o'er the crashing forest
The giant arms lie spread;
And the pale augurs, muttering low,
Gaze on the blasted head.
170
212 THE DEFENCE OF THE BRIDGE
On Astur's throat tIoratius
Right firmly pressed his heel,
And thrice and four times tugged amain,
Ere he wrenched out.the steel.
"And see," he cried, "the welcome,
Fair guests, that waits you here!
What noble Lucumo comes next,
To taste our Roman cheer ?"
But at his haughty challenge
A sullen murmur ran,
Mingled of wrath, and shame, and dread,
Along that glittering van.
There lacked not men of prowess,
Nor men of lordly race ;
For all Etruria's noblest
Were round the fatal [,lace.
But all Etruria's noblest
Felt their hearts sink to see
On the earth the bloody corpses,
In the path the dauntless Three.
Yet one man for one moment
Strode out before the crowd;
Well known was he to all the Three,
And they ga,e him greeting loud.
"Now welcome, welcome, Sextus!
Now welcome to thy home!
Why dost thou stay, and turn away?
Here lies the road to lome."
Thrice looked he at the city;
Thrice looked he at the dead;
175
180
185
190
195
200
214 THE DEFENCE OF TYIE BRIDGE
Alone stood brave Horatius,
But constant still in mind ;
Thrice thirty thousand foes before,
And the hroad good behind.
"Doa vith him !" cried false Sextus,
With a smile on his pale face,
"Now yield thee," cried Lars Porscna,
"Now yield thee to our grace."
Round turned he, as not deigning
Those craven ranks to see;
Naught spake he to Lars Porsena,
To Sextus naught spake he:
But he saw on Palatinus
The white porch of his home;
And he spake to the noble river
That rolls by the towers of Rome:
"Oh, Tiber ! Father Tiber !
To whmn the Romans pray,
A Roman's life, a Roman's arms,
Take thou in charge this day!"
So he spake, and speaking sheathed
The good sword by his side,
And with his harness on his back,
Plunged headlong in the tide.
No sound of joy or sorrow
Was heard from either bank;
But friends and foes in dmnh surprise,
Vith parted lips and straining eyes,
Stood gazing where he sank;
235
24O
245
250
255
260
TIIE DEFENCE OF TIIE BRIDGE. 215
And when above the surges
They saw his crest appear,
All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry,
And even the ranks of Tuscany
Could scarce forhear to cheer.
But fiercely ran the current,
Swollen high by months of rain:
And fast Iris blood was flowing,
And he was sore in pain,
And heavy with his armour,
And speut with changing ldows:
And oft they thought him sinking,
But still again he rose.
Never, I ween, did swimmer,
In such an evil case
Struggle through such a raging flood
Safe to the landing-place:
But his limbs were borne up bravely
By the brave heart within,
And our good Father Tiber
Bore bravely up his chin.
265
270
275
280
"Curse on him !" quoth false Sextus:
"Will not the villain drown?
But for this stay, ere close of day
We should have sacked the town!"
"IIeaven hlp him !" quoth Lars Porsena,
"And bring him safe to shore;
For such a gallant feat of arms
Was never seen before."
285
290
ON TIIE DEATH OF KING EDWARD VII
Delivered in the British House of Commons. Iay 12th, 1910
The late King, who has been suddenly taken away
from tas, had, at the time of his de.ath, not yet comph.tcd
the tenth year of his reign. Those years were crowded
with moving and stirring events, both abrad, in the
Empire, and here at home. In our relations with foreign
countries they have been years of growing friendships,
of new understandings, of stronger and surer safe-
guards for the peace of mankind. Within the Empire
during the same time the sense of interdependence, the.
consciousness of common interests and common risks,
the ever-tighteniug bnds of corporate unity have been
developed and vivified as they had never been before.
Here at home, as though it were by way of contrast,
controversial issues of the gravest kind--economic, seeial,
and constitutional--have ripened into a rapid maturity.
Sir, in all these mfltiform manifestatiens of our
national aud imperial life, history will assigu a part of
singular dignity and authority to the great Ruler whom
we have lost. In external ffairs his powerful persona!
influence was steadily and zealously directed to the
avoidance not only of war, but of the causes and pre-
texts of war, and he well earned the title by which he
will always be remembered, "the Peacemaker of the
World."
Within the boundaries of his own Empire, by
intimate knowledge of its component parts, by his broad
217
18 ON T[E DEATtI 0F IING EDWD VII
and elastic sympathy not only with ambitions, and
aspirations, but 'ith the sufferings and the hardships
of his people, by his response lo any and every appeal
whether to the sense of justice or the spirit of compassion,
he won a degree of loyalty, affection, and confidence
which few Sovereigns have ever enjoyed. At home, we
all recognize that, alcove the din and dust of our hard-
fought controversies, detached frown party and attached
only to the conmmn interests, we had in him an arbiter
ripe in experience, judicial in temper, at once a reverent
worshipper of our traditions and a watchful guardian
of our constitutimal liherties.
One is tempted, imh, ed constrained, on such an occa-
sion as this to ask what were the qualities which enabled
a man called comparatively late in life to new duties of
unexampled conplexity--what were the qualities which
in practice proved him so admirably fitted to the task,
and have given hin an enduring and illustrious record
among the rulers and governors of the nations? I
should be disposed to assign the first place to -hat
sounds a commonplace---but in its persistent and unfail-
ing exercise is one of the rarest of virtues--his strong,
abiding, dominating sense of public duty.
King Edward, be it remembered, was a man of many
and varied interests. He was a sportsman in the best
sense, an ardent and diseriluiuating patrc,n of the Arts,
and as well equipped as any man of his time for the
give-and-take of social intercourse; wholly free from
the prejudices and narrowing rules of caste: at home
in all companies; an enfranchised citizen of the world.
To such a man, endowed as he was by nature, placed
where he was by fortune and by eiremnstanees, there
ON THE DEATH OF KING EDWARD VII 219
was open, if he had chosen to enter it, an unlimited field
for self-indulgence. But, Sir, as every one will acknow-
ledge who was brought into daily contact with him in
the sphere of affairs, his duty to the State always came
first. In this great business community there was no
better man of business, no man by whom the humdrum
oliligations---punctuality, method, preciseness, and
economy of time and speech--were more keenly recog-
nized or more severely practised. I speak with the
privilege of close experience when I say that wherever
he was, whatever may have been his apparent preoccupa-
tions, in the transactions of the business of the State
there were never any arrears, there was never an)- trace
of confusion, there was never any nmment of avoidable
delay.
Next to these, Sir--I am still in the domain of practice
and administration--I should put his singular, perhaps
an unrivalled, tact in the management of men, and a
judgment of intuitive shrewdness as to the best outlet
from perplexed and often baffling situations. IIe had,
in its highest and best development, the genius of
common sense. These rare gifts of practical efficiency
were, during the whole of his Kingship, yoked to the
service of a great ideal. IIe was animated every day
of his Sovereignty by the thought that he was at once
the head and the chief servant of that vast complex
organism which we call the British Empire. He recog-
nized in the fullest degree both the povers and the
limitations of a Constitutional Monarch. Here, at
home, he was, though no politician, as every one knows,
a keen Social Reformer. He leaved his people at home
ad over the seas. Their interests were his interests;
TE FUNERAL OF JUL.rUS C2E..kR 229
Cesar has had great wrong.
3 ('it. tics he, masters ?
I fear there will a worse come in his place.
4 Cir. Mark'd ye his words? lie would not take the
crown ;
Therefore 't is certain he was not ambitious. 120
1 Cir. If it be found so, some will dear abide it.
2 Cit. Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with eeping.
3 ('it. There's not a nobler man in Rome than Antony.
4 ('it. Now mark him, he begins again to speak.
At. But yesterday the word of C;esar might
Have stood against the world: now lies he there,
And none so poor to do him reverence.
0 masters! if I were dispos'd to stir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong, 130
Who, you all know, are honourable men ;
I will not do them wrong; I rather choose
To xwrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you,
Than I will wrong such honottrable men.
But here's a parchment, with the seal of Cmsar;
I found it in his closet, 't is his will:
Let but the commons hear this testament,-
Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read,
And they would go and kiss dead Cmsar's wounds,
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood. 140
Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,
And, dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it as a rich legacy
Unto their issue.
4 ('it. We'll hear the will: read it, Mark Antony.
All. The will, the will! we will hear Cmsar's will.
TIlE REVENGE 237
But anon the great San Philip she bethought her-50
self and went
Ilaving that within her womb that had left her ill-
content;
And the rest they came aboard us, and they fought us
hand to hand,
For a dozen times they came with their pikes and
musqueteers,
And a dozen times we shook 'em off as a dog that shakes
his ears
When he leaps from tile water to tile land. 55
And the sun went down, and the stars came out far
over the sunllller sea
But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the
fifty-three.
Ship after ship, the whole night long, their high-built
galleons crone,
Ship after ship, the whole night long, ith their battle-
thund,,r and flame;
Ship after ship, the whole night long, drew back with 60
her dead and her shame:
For some were sunk and ninny were shatter'd, and so
could fight us no more--
God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world
before ?
For he said "Fight on! fight on!"
Tho' his vessel was all but a wreck;
And it chanced that, when half of the short summer65
night was gone,
With a grisly wound to be drest he had left the deck,
238 THE REVENGE
But a bullet struck him that was dressing it suddenly
dead,
And himself he was wounded again in the side and the
head,
And he said, "Fight on ! fight on !"
And the night went down, and the sun smiled out farT0
over tile Sl_llrllller sea,
And the Spanish fleet with broken sides lay round us
all in a ring;
But they dar'd nt touch us again, for they fear'd that
we still could sting,
So they wateh'd what the end wouhl be.
Aml we had not fought them in vain,
l;ut in peril,ms plight were we, 75
Seeing forty of our po,r humlro,1 were slain,
And half of the rest of us maim'd for life
In the crash of the cannonades and the desperate strife;
And the sick men down in the hold were most of them
stark and cold,
And the ldkes were all broken or hent, and the powders0
was all of it spent;
An,1 the nmsts and the rigging were lying over the
side ;
l;ut Sir Richard cried in his English pride,
"We have fought such a fight for a day and a ght
As may never be fought again
We have won great glory, my men 85
And a day less or more
At sea or ashore,
We didoes it matter when ?
Rink me the ship, Master Gunnerink her, split her
in twain
]?all into the
Spain !"
THE IEVEN'GE 239
hands of God, not into the hands ofg0
And the gunner said "Ay, ay," but the seamen made
reply :
"We have children, we have wives,
And the Lord hath spared our lives.
We will make the Spaniard promise, if we yiold, to let
llS g0 ;
We shall live to fight again aml t) strike another blow." 95
And the lion there lay dying, and they yielded to the
foe.
And the stately Spanish men to their flagship bore him
then
Where they laid him by the mast, old Sir Richard caught
at last,
And they praised him to his face with their courtly
foreign grace;
But he rose upon their decks, and he cried:
"I have fi)u.eht for Queen and Faith like a valiant
man and true;
] have only done my duty as a man is bound to do:
With a j-yful spirit I Sir Richard (h'.nville die!"
And he fell upon their decks, and he died.
100
And they stared at the dead that had been so valiant 105
and true,
And had holden the power and glory of Spain so cheap
That he dared her with one little ship and his English
few ;
Was he devil or man ? He was devil for aught they knew,
But they sank his body with honour down into the deep,
IIEnv RIEL 243
Better run the ships aground!"
(Ended Damfrevillc his speech.)
Not a minute more to wait!
"Let the captains all and each
Shove ashore, then blow up, burn the vessels .n the 35
beach !
France must undergo her fate.
Give the word!" But no such w.rd
Was ever spoke or heard;
For up sto.d, for out sieppcd, for in struck amid
all these,--
A Captain? a Lieutenant ? a Mate--first, second, third ?40
No such man of mark, and meet
With his betters to COlnpete!
But a simple Bret,,n sailor pressed by Tourvillc f,,r
the fleet,
A poor coasting-pilot he, II.rv Riel the Cr,isickese.
And, "What mockery or malice have we here?"
IIcm'6 Ricl :
"Are you mad, you Malouins?
fools, or rogues ?
Talk to me of rocks and shoals,
soundings, tell
On my fingers every bank, every shallow, every swell
'Twixt the offing here and Grbve, where the river
disembogues ?
Are you bought by English gold ? Is it love the lying's 50
for ?
Morn and eve, night and day,
IIave I piloted your bay,
Entered free and anchored fast at the foot of Solidor.
cries 45
Are you c,wards,
me who took the
HERV RIEL 245
Not a spar that cones to grief!
The peril, see, is past,
All are harboured to the last,
And just as Herv Ricl hollas "An(.lmr !"--sure as fat,
Up the English come--too late.
8O
So, the storm subsides to calm:
They see lhe green trees wave 85
On the heights o'erlooking Grvc.
IIearts that bled are stanched wifl balm.
"Just our ra 
