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I hate him for he is a Christian;

But more for that, in low symplicity,

He lends out money gratis, and brings down
The rate of usance here with us in Venice.
If I can catch him once upon the hip,

I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
He hates our sacred nation; and he rails,
Even there where merchants most do congregate,

On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift,
Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe,
If I forgive him.-Merchant of Venice.

EXHORTING.

But wherefore do you droop? why look you sad?

Be great in act, as you have been in thought;

Let not the world see fear, and sad distrust
Govern the motion of a kingly eye:

Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire;
Threaten the threatener, and outface the brow
Of bragging horror: so shall inferior eyes,
That borrow their behavior from the great,
Grow great by your example, and put on
The dauntless spirit of resolution.
Away! and glister like the god of war,
When he intendeth to become the field:
Show boldness and aspiring confidence.

What! shall they seek the lion in his den,

And fright him there? and make him tremble there?

O, let it not be said.-Forage, and run

To meet displeasure farther from the doors,

And grapple with him ere he come so nigh.-King John.

SURPRISE IN JEALOUSY COMMENCING.

Think, my lord!

By Heaven, he echoes me,

As if there were some monster in his thought

Too hideous to be shown.-Thou dost mean something.

I heard thee say but now,-thou lik'dst not that,
When Cassio left my wife: what did'st not like?
And, when I told thee, he was of my counsel

In my whole course of wooing, thou cried'st, "Indeed!
And did'st contract and purse thy brow together,

As if thou then had'st shut up in thy brain
Some horrible conceit. If thou dost love me,

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The fellow's of exceeding honesty,

And knows all qualities with a learn'd spirit
Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard,
Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings,
I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind,
To prey at fortune. Haply, for I am black,
And have not those soft parts of conversation
That chamberers have; or, for I am declin'd
Into the vale of years; yet, that's not much:-
She's gone; I am abus'd; and my relief

Must be to loathe her. O curse of marriage,

That we can call these delicate creatures ours,

And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,

And live upon the vapour of a dungeon,

Than keep a corner in the thing I love

For others' uses.-- -- Othello.

This collection of extracts is sufficient for our purpose, and will prove a valuable aid to the student in vocalization for the purpose of securing varied expression. The best selections in modern speeches have many of the passions combined in them, and, like the voices, they shade into each other so constantly that great care is necessary to observe them, and great practice in order to be able to express them.

The student should not fail to commit to memory the exercise for declamation. This he can do, and if he does not, the principles of expression will be of little use to him, as all the energy is directed to the recollection of the words, and he cannot give expression to the ideas. The words should be perfectly familiar, then the soul will cause them to breath and burn with the fire of thought.

SELECTIONS.

I.

EVERETT'S VINDICATION OF AMERICA,-1863.

In the factories of Europe there is machinery of American invention or improvement; in their observatories, telescopes of American construction, and apparatus of American invention for recording the celestial phenomena. America contests with Europe the introduction into actual use of the electric telegraph, and her mode of operating it is adopted throughout the French empire. American authors in almost every department are found on the shelves of European libraries. It is true no American Homer, Virgil, Dante, Copernicus, Shakespeare, Bacon, Milton, Newton, has risen on the world. These mighty geniuses seem to be exceptions in the history of the human mind. Favorable circumstances do not produce them, nor does the absence of favorable circumstances prevent their appearance. Homer rose in the dawn of Greek culture, Virgil flourished in the court of Augustus, Dante ushered in the birth of the new European civilization, Copernicus was reared in a Polish cloister, Shakespeare was trained in the green room of the theatre, Milton was formed while the elements of English thought and life were fermenting towards a great political and moral revolution, Newton under the profligacy of the restoration. Ages may elapse before any country will produce a man like these, as two centuries have passed since the last mentioned of them were born. But if it is really a matter of reproach to the United States, that in the comparatively short period of their existence as a people, they have not added another name to the illustrious list (which is equally true of all the other nations of the earth,) they may proudly boast of one example of life and character, one career of disinterested service, one model of public virtue, the type of human excellence, of which all the countries and all the ages may be searched in vain for the parallel. I need not

on this day I need not-speak the peerless name. It is stamped on your hearts, it glistens in your eyes, it is written on every page of your history, on the battle-fields of the Revolution, on the monuments of your fathers, on the portals of your Capitols. It is heard in every breeze that whispers over the fields of independent America. And he was all our own. He grew upon the soil of America; he

was nurtured at her bosom. She loved and trusted him in his youth; she honored and revered him in his age; and though she did not wait for death to canonize his name, his precious memory, with each succeeding year, has sunk more deeply into the hearts of his countrymen.

II.

THE TEMPERANCE DRINK.

Water! oh, bright, beautiful water for me. Water! heavengifted, earth-blessing, flower-loving water! It was the drink of Adam in the purity of his Eden home-it mirrored back the beauty of Eve in her unblushing toilet-it wakens to life again the crushed and fading flower-it cools, oh, how gratefully! the parched tongue of the feverish invalid-it falls down to us in pleasant showers from its home in the glittering stars-it descends to us in feathery storms of snow-it smiles in shining dew-drops at the glad birth of morning—it clusters in great tear-drops at night over the graves of those we love-its name is wreathed in strange, bright colors by the sunset cloud—its name is breathed by the dying soldier, far away on the torrid field of battle-it paints old forts and turrets, from a gorgeous easel, on your winter window-it clings upon the branches of trees in frost-work of delicate beauty-it dwells in the icicle -it lives in the mountain glacier-it forms the vapory ground-work upon which God paints the rainbow-it gushes in pearly streams from the gentle hillside-it makes glad the sunny vales-it murmurs cheerful songs in the ear of the humble cottager-it answers back the smiles of happy children-it kisses the pure cheek of the water lily—it wanders like a vein of molten silver away, away to

the distant sea—oh, bright, beautiful, health-inspiring, heart-gladdening water! Everywhere around us dwelleth thy meek presence twin angel sister of all that is good and precious here—in the wild forest on the grassy plain-slumbering in the bosom of the lonely mountain---sailing with viewless wings through the humid airfloating over us in curtains of more than regal splendor-home of the healing angel when his wings bend to the woes of this fallen world

"Oh, water, pure water, bright water for me,
And wine for the trembling debauchee!"

III.

THE OATH.

BY THOMAS BUCHANAN REED.

a Ye freemen, how long will ye stifle
The vengeance that justice inspires?
With treason how long will ye trifle

And shame the proud name of your sires?

Out, out with the sword and the rifle

In defence of your homes and your fires.

The flag of the old Revolution

Swear firmly to serve and uphold,

That no treasonous breath of pollution,
Shall tarnish one star of its fold.
Swear! b

c And hark, the deep voices replying

From the graves where your fathers are lying,
₫ “Swear, oh, Swear!

e In this moment, who hesitates barters
The rights which his forefathers won;
He forfeits all claim to the charters

Transmitted from sire to son.

Kneel, kneel at the graves of our martyrs
And swear on your sword and your gun;
Lay up your great oath on an altar,

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