19. THE GRAVE.-James Montgomery. 1. There is a calm for those who weep, 2. The storm that wrecks the wintry sky, That shuts the rose 3. I long to lay this painful head 4. For misery stole me at my birth, Take home thy child. These elegant lines from Montgomery's beautiful poem, should be read or recited, on a very low key, with slow time, and long quantity. Rhetorical pauses should be made in the last line of each verse, after uttering the words, "low," "shuts," "all," and "home." 20. EXTRACT FROM A DISCOURSE ON THE GENIUS AND CHARACTER OF THE REV. HORACE HOLLEY.-Dr. Caldwell. 1. He sickened during the darkness and roar of a tempest, as fierce as the delirium by which his great intellect was destined to be shattered; and which shook, for a time, surrounding nature with a tumult as appalling, as the fearful convul sions amidst which he expired. 2. And he died after a short illness at sea, in the meridian of life, remote from medical aid, and from all connections and intimate friends, that might have soothed his sufferings and ministered to his wants; was attended in his sickness only by strangers, who were destitute alike of skill and means to afford him relief, or even contribute to his comfort, and his remains were committed to the waves of the Gulf of Mexico. 3. To deepen still more the sombre shades of the melancholy picture, all this happened at a conjuncture when offers were held out to him, and prospects unfolded, in the highest degree flattering; and by which he might have become easy and affluent in fortune. 4. And the value of such prospects can be duly appreciated by his acquaintance and friends; for it is well known to them, that, like too many others of the bright but improvident sons of genius, he had made no competent pecuniary provisions, any of the adverse contingencies of life. for 5. The rolling surf, as it breaks over the reef near which he was deposited, resounds to him a deep and solemn requiem, which will never cease to salute the ear of the passing mariner, while the winds shall continue to waft him, and the ocean be his home. 6. And amidst the roar of the mighty waters, his repose will be as peaceful, as if he slept under fretted marble, or the grassy sod, silently wept on by the dews of evening, and soothed by the vespers of the softened breeze. Let us fancy to ourselves a choir of the fairest and most exquisite vocalists of the ocean, chanting to their favorite the following elegy: 7. Farewell! be it ours to embellish thy pillow With every thing beauteous that grows in the deep; 8. Around thee shall glisten the loveliest amber 9. We'll dive where the gardens of coral lie darkling, We'll seek where the sands are most precious and sparkling, ). Farewell! farewell! until pity's emotion The Rev. Horace Holley, LL. D., was President of the Transylvania University, at Lexington, in the state of Kentucky, for nine years, during which period, the institution greatly flourished. In the year 1827, Dr. Holley, in consequence of persecution, and a vituperative attack from the governor of that state, resigned the presidency of the University. He now formed the idea of taking an excursion to Europe, for the benefit of such young men as were disposed, and could afford, to accompany him. This plan, he knew, would, if carried into effect, give his pupils an opportunity to acquire much more practical knowledge, than they could obtain at home, or from books. The excursion, too, would tend to enlarge their views and liberalize their minds. The system, for its completion, was to include from six to eight years. But the friends of education at New-Orleans, persuaded Dr. Holley to abandon his proposed European excursion, and to agree to take charge of a literary institution which they were desirous to establish in their city. Owing to the oppressive heat of the climate at New-Orleans in July, he measurably lost his health. Under the impres sion that the sea air would restore it, he took a ship to go to New-York. While on his way to that city, a storm occurred, which occasioned scasickness with the passengers generally; and, with Dr. Holley, a disease of which he died. His winding sheet was his cloak, and his grave the ocean. He was a brother of Myron and O. L. Holley. Charles Caldwell, M. D., Professor of Medicine in the Transylvania University, prepared and delivered, at the chapel, a most excellent discourse on the genius and character of Dr. Holley, from the concluding part of which, the above extract is taken. It should be read or recited deliberately, and with considerable quantity. The key for the prose, should not be very high nor low. The poetry with which it is concluded, requires rather a low key. It is a piece of deep pathos; and, if its elocution be such as it demands, it cannot fail to excite a thrilling interest in the mind of the hearer. 21. SATAN'S SUPPOSED SPEECH TO HIS LEGIONS, ON THE OBLIVI OUS POOL.-Milton. 1. Princes; potentates; Warriors; the flower of Heaven, once yours, now lost! Eternal spirits; or have ye chosen this place, Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find 2. Or in this abject posture, have ye sworn His swift pursuers from Heaven's gates, discern John Milton was born at London, in the year 1608. His "Paradise Lost" is written with great ability. It displays almost infinite power of imagination. When Milton wrote it, he doubtless, "felt the enchantment of oriental fiction." The idea of writing it, was probably suggested to the mind of its author, by his reading Homer, whose account of the Trojan war. somewhat resembles the description contained in Milton's work, of a war in heaven. Be that as it may, Milton justly ranks very high as a poet. The above speech which he imagines to have been made, requires a high key, and quick time. 22. APOSTROPHE TO LIGHT.-Milton. 1. Hail, holy light; offspring of Heaven first-born, May I express thee unblamed? since God is light, 2. Or hear'st thou rather, pure ethereal stream, 3. Thee I revisit now with bolder wing, Escaped the Stygian pool, though long detain'd 4. Taught by the heavenly muse to venture down 5. 6. Though hard and rare; thee I revisit safe, Yet not the more, Those other two equal'd with me in fate, Thus with the year Of nature's works, to me expunged and razed; So much the rather thou, celestial Light, Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers Of things invisible to mortal sight. The above poetic address, in which Milton laments the loss of his sight, is one of his happiest efforts. As he was blind at the time he wrote it, wisdom was "at one entrance quite shut out." |