It is not meet you know how Cæsar loved you.
You are not wood, you are not stones, but men ;
And, being men, hearing the will of Cæsar,
It will inflame you, it will make you mad;
'T is good you know not that you are his heirs;
For if you should, O, what would come of it!
4 Cit. Read the will; we will hear it, Antony!
You shall read us the will; Cæsar's will!

Cit. Stand back! room! bear back!

Ant. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle : I remember

The first time ever Cæsar put it on;

'T was on a summer's evening, in his tent; That day he overcame the Nervii :

Look! in this place ran Cassius' dagger through:
See, what a rent the envious Casca made:
Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabbed;
And, as he plucked his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Cæsar followed it!
As rushing out of doors, to be resolved
If Brutus so unkindly knocked, or no ;
For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel:
Judge, O you gods! how dearly Cæsar loved him!
This was the most unkindest cut of all:

For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's arms,

Quite vanquished him; then burst his mighty heart;
And in his mantle muffling up his face,

Even at the base of Pompey's statue,

Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell.
O, what a fall was there, my countrymen !
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilst bloody Treason flourished over us.
O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feel
The dint of pity: these are gracious drops
Kind souls, what weep you, when you but behd
Our Cæsar's vesture wounded? Look you here,
Here is himself, marred, as you see, with traitors.
1 Cit. O piteous spectacle!

2 Cit. O traitors! villains!
3 Cit. We will be revenged!
About!-seek! - burn!

Slay! let not a traitor live!

fire!

revenge!

[Exeunt.]

OCCASIONAL

ADDRESSES AND EXERCISES.

A SALUTATORY.

COMM. SCRIPT.

PARENTS AND FRIENDS:-We rejoice to meet you here on this occasion. We feel that you are concerned in the improvement we may have made of the golden hours which we have passed in this cherished place; it truly gladdens our hearts in beholding the interest your kindly presence manifests. We feel assured you will not judge of our performances by any very elevated standard, since, from those as young as ourselves, perfection, or any near approach to it, cannot be reasonably expected. If you but discover those germs of culture and scientific attainments which promise future respectability and excellence as scholars or speakers, you will find all we could claim. Not to what we are, but to that which we are striving to become, would we ask your attention. We greet you, then, not as critics, but as friends, — friends, who, generously overlooking each deficiency necessarily attending youthful inexperience, will hail every indication of success, as the bright harbinger of future usefulness.

But, whatever may be the measure of our merit, we feel to one belongs the full meed of praise.

Kind teacher, it is proper that we acknowledge, with thankfulness, your unceasing toils in our behalf. We doubt not, that you, sir, have already that rich reward which the consciousness of duties well performed always imparts, — but to that we would fain add our sincere gratitude and high respect.

Schoolmates, hand in hand we have been privileged to cull mental flowers, more beautiful than those that garnish the teeming earth. If any of you have found that beneath the beautiful rose of unfolding truth the thorn has lurked — or, in other words, if the more you have learned, the more deeply you have been pierced with the conviction that the endless river of knowledge murmurs forth its melodious invitations

to drink of inexhaustible waters — feel solaced by the reflection, that though you can never learn all things, yet the very boundlessness of truth enables every noble spirit to partake freely of its pure element. And the bright examples of the wise and good show clearly how may be yours all the noblest objects of a laudable ambition.

"Therefore, press on! and reach the goal,
And gain the prize, and wear the crown;
Faint not for to the steadfast soul

Come wealth, and honor, and renown.
To thine own self be true, and keep

Thy mind from sloth, thy heart from soil;
Press on! and thou shalt surely reap

A heavenly harvest for thy toil!"

A SALUTATORY.

F. CROSBY.

A CHEERY smile ever finds some 66 wee green neuk, some wee sly neuk," wherein to nestle in the hearts of the young. Age may learn to cloak the sweetest emotions of the soulhypocrisy may mildew with its night-shade glare each sound of praise the world may teach us to forget all sunny looks which lighten the load of life- this, all this, may be our future lot, but may it be a future far distant. Long may it be ere we shall learn the art of ingratitude, foreign to all ingenuous natures never may we stifle a thank-offering when our hearts would yield it!

For your gladsome presence with us this evening, in behalf of my comrades, I thank you. Commencing, as we do, under such favorable auspices, how can our success but be enhanced? —how can we but strive to gain the meed of your applause?

Over our short-comings and failures we beg that the mantle of charity may drop. We are no veterans, born and bred to thread the mazes of the drama; no children of the stage are we, accustomed to call-boy and prompter; a failure with us brings no loss of bread;— nought of all this are we.

We offer ourselves as mere novices in the art histrionic we ask no higher niche than this in your memory. From us you will expect the delineation of the school-boy, the demeanor of those all unacquainted with the mysteries of the boards. That we provoke no laughter, that we cull no approbation, attribute all to this, this rank alone do we claim.

Accept, then, our evening's tribute as an index of our willingness to endeavor, though we fail of success. Happy shall we be, if, perchance, we equal a fair anticipation.

Closing, as we do, this evening, our present term, permit me for my companions to thank you for the kindness shown our attempts to please you, during the eleven weeks which now slumber with the past. May coming time bring no regret to your memories, when wandering over these fields, now numbered with the silent. May you ever retain the happiness of the true patron and when we shall have lain this evening aside with its brothers of the by-gone, may no saddened tear drop over its resting-place, but may we, one and all, patrons, teachers, and taught, sun ourselves in the recollection of a season happily spent.

-

AN INTRODUCTORY.

RESPECTED FRIENDS,

COMM. SCRIPT.

It is a source of pleasure to us, this evening, to behold you at our exhibition, because we are led to infer from your presence that our undertaking has your approval.

You are doubtless aware that we have given our attention for a short time past to speaking and recitation; and we hope to show, by this evening's exercises, that our efforts at improvement have not been wholly in vain. Perfect specimens are not to be expected of any so young as ourselves; yet we know not but there may be among us some who may rise, by means of a persevering diligence, to that degree of intellectual greatness and power that shall enable them to hold listening multitudes in rapture, and sway the councils of the nation by their eloquence. We know not what we are, much less what we shall be. Therefore we have determined to labor and to hope, feeling fully assured that the greater our attainments of learning and virtue in youth, the better we shall be prepared to act honorable and useful parts on the - great stage of active and responsible life.

And it is ours to hope, that this evening's recreations, honored by the attendance of our relations and friends, may not be lost upon us, but prove an inducement for us ever to strive for the approbation of the wise and good.

27

A VALEDICTORY.

W. L. P. BOARDMAN.

THE veil of the past is soon to be drawn over all the records of the present term. Its joys, its sorrows, its moments well spent and its moments wasted, all that it has granted to us of intellectual wealth or of moral growth, are soon to become subjects of positive history. We are about to bid adieu to our teacher, to each other, and many of us, doubtless, a final farewell to this school. Farewell! how does the sound of that, alas! too oft repeated word, thrill every soul with poignant regrets! To unbind the tendrils entwined around the heart by intimate companionship, and to take the hand of cherished friends, perhaps, for the last time this side of the grave, is, indeed, sad and melancholy, and would be hardly supportable were not true friendship eternal.

It is proper, kind friends, that we gratefully acknowledge the encouragement your attendance has given to us, at this closing scene. Your cheerful countenances, and your marked attention, tell us that our efforts to please have not been wholly ineffectual. Benefiting by the many lessons of wisdom that have been taught us, we confidently hope, by acting well our parts on the stage of active life, to be honored, not only with your continued approbation, but to receive that which is still better and nobler, even the approval of God and conscience.

To you, the much loved Principal of this school, allow me, in behalf of my schoolmates, to offer the unanimous testimony of affection and respect. The untiring zeal and assiduity with which you have labored to guide and aid us in our feeble, toilsome march up the rugged hill of science, have richly merited, and do receive, our heartfelt thanks. It will ever be the earnest wish of your pupils that all your labors may be crowned with rich success, and that in the end you may receive the faithful teacher's reward in heaven.

Schoolmates, you are now to part, never again to meet under the same circumstances. Some of you leave this place of learning to-day, as students for the last time, while others will return at the beginning of another term, to resume the onward march in the flowery paths of literature. A few years, at most, will be sufficient to work for you great changes. But with almost all of you it is entirely optional as to what station shall occupy you in life. Would you the wreath that honor and virtue entwine encircle your brow? Then, in all your varied intercourse with the world, be so

have