smoothness of flattery cannot save us in this rugged and awful crisis. It is now necessary to instruct the throne in the language of TRUTH. We must, if possible, dispel the darkness and delusion which envelop it, and display, in its full danger and genuine colors, the ruin which is brought to our doors.

2. Can ministers still presume to expect support in their infatuation? Can parliament be so dead to its dignity and duty, as to give their support to measures thus obtruded and forced upon them? Measures, my lords, which have reduced this great and flourishing empire to scorn and contempt. But yesterday, "and England might have stood against the world; - now, none so poor to do her

reverence."

3. The people, whom we at first despised as rebels, but whom we now acknowledge as enemies, are abetted against you, supplied with every military store, their interest consulted, and their embassadors entertained, by your inveterate enemy, and our ministers do not, and dare not interpose with dignity and effect. The desperate state of our army abroad is in part known.

4. No man more highly esteems and honors the English troops than I do. I know their virtues and their valor; I know they can achieve any thing except impossibilities; and I know that the conquest of English America is an impossibility. You cannot, my lords, you CANNOT conquer America. What is your present situation there? We do not know the worst, but we know that in three campaigns we have done nothing, and suffered much.

5. In this alarming crisis, I come with this paper in my hand to offer you the best of my experience and advice; which is, that an humble petition be presented to his majesty, beseeching him, that in order to open the way toward a

happy settlement of the dangerous troubles in America, it may graciously please him, that immediate orders be given to General Gage,a for removing his majesty's forces from the town of Boston. This, my lords, upon the most mature and deliberate grounds, is the best advice I can give you at this juncture.

6. And I call upon that right reverend and this most learned bench, to vindicate the religion of their God, to support the justice of their country. I call upon the bishops, to interpose the unsullied sanctity of their lawn,-upon the judges, to interpose the purity of their ermine, to save us from pollution. call upon the honor of your lordships, to reverence the dignity of your ancestors, and to maintain your own. I call upon the spirit and humanity of my country, to vindicate the national character.

I

7. You may swell every expense, and strain every effort, accumulate every assistance, and extend your traffic to the shambles of every German despot; your attempts, forever, will be vain and impotent; doubly so, indeed, from this mercenary aid on which you rely; for it irritates to an incurable resentment the minds of your adversaries, to overrun them with the mercenary sons of rapine and plunder, devoting them and their possessions to the rapacity of hireling cruelty. If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop remained in my country, I never would lay down my arms— NEVER, NEVER, NEVER.

■ General Gage, the last governor of Massachusetts appointed by the king, and, for a short time, commander-in-chief of the British forces, at the commencement of the Revolution.

EXERCISE VII.

RULE 4. Tender emotion, pathetic and plaintive language, should be uttered in a soft and subdued tone of voice, with rather a slow movement, and a prevailing rising inflection.

Tender Emotion.

1. Heard ye the whisper of the breeze,
As soft it murmured by,
Amid the shadowy forest-trees?

It tells, with meaning sigh,

Of the bowers of bliss on that viewless shore,
Where the weary spirit shall sin no more.

2. While sweet and low in crystal streams
That glitter in the shade,

The music of an angel's dreams

On bubbling keys are play'd;

And their echoes breathe, with a mystic tone,

Of that home where the loved and the lost are gone.

3. And when at evening's silent hour,

We stand on Ocean's shore,

And feel the soul-subduing power

Of its mysterious roar,

There's a deep voice comes from its pearly caves,

Of that land of peace which no ocean laves.

4. And while the shadowy vale of night,
Sleeps on the mountain side,

And brilliants of unfathomed light

QUESTIONS. What is the rule for tender emotion, pathetic and plaintive language!

What emotions are exemplified under this rule ?

Begem the concave wide,

There's a spell, a power, of harmonious love,
That is beckoning mute to the realms above.

5. And Earth, in all her temples wild
Of mountain, rock, and dell,

Speaks with maternal accents mild,
Our doubting fears to quell,

Of another shore, and a brighter sphere,
Where we haste on the wings of each flying year.

6. On nature's bright and pictured scroll,

A speaking language see;

A pantomime the seasons roll,

Of glorious imagery,

That reveal a life in this fading clay,
That shall wake again to a brighter day.

Pathetic and Plaintive.

1. Ha! let me see her; alas! she's cold;
Her blood is settled; and her joints are stiff;
Life and these lips have long been separated⚫
Death lies on her, like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flower of the field.

2. Sleep on-sleep on

above thy corse

The winds their Sabbath keep,

The wave is round thee, and thy breast

Heaves with the heaving deep;

O'er thee, mild eve her beauty flings,
And there the white gull lifts her wings;

And the blue halcyon loves to lave

Her plumage in the holy wave.

3. Sleep on thy corse is far away,

But love bewails thee yet;

For thee the heart-wrung sigh is breathed,
And lovely eyes are wet;—

And she, the young and beauteous bride,
Her thoughts are hovering by thy side,

As oft she turns to view with tears

The Eden of departed years.

4. Morar! thou art low indeed; thou hast no mother to mourn thee; no maid with her tears of love. Dead is she that brought thee forth; fallen is the daughter of Morglan. Who, on his staff, is this? Who this, whose head is white with age, whose eyes are galled with tears, who quakes at every step? It is thy father, O Morar! the father of no son but thee.

5. Weep, thou father of Morar! weep; but thy son heareth thee not. Deep is the sleep of the dead; low their pillow of dust. No more shall he hear thy voice, no more awake at thy call. When shall it be morn in the grave, to bid the slumberer awake? Farewell, thou bravest of men; thou conqueror of the field; but the field shall see thee no more, nor the gloomy wood be lightened by the splendor of thy steel. Thou hast left no son,—but the song shall preserve thy name.

Sorrow and Melancholy.

He comes not. I have watched the moon go down,
But yet he comes not. Once it was not so.
He thinks not, how these bitter tears do flow,
The while he holds his riot in that town.
Yet he will come, and chide, and I shall weep;