Looks are bent on the shaking ground,
Hearts beat low with a knelling sound;
Swift by the breast that must bear the brunt,
Gallops the major along the front.

"Halt!"

And fettered they stand at the stark command,
And the warriors, sīlent, halt.

SCHILLER.

6.

THE PRISONER OF CHILLON.

For all was blank, and bleak, and gray;
It was not night-it was not day;
It was not even the dungeon light,
So hateful to my heavy sight—
But vacancy absorbing space,
And fixedness-without a plàce;

There were nō stārs-nō earth-nō tīme-
Nō check-no change-no gōōd-no crime-
But silence, and a stirless breath

Which neither was of life nor death:
A sea of stagnant idleness—

Blind, boundless, mute, and motionless.

7. What this grīm, ungainly, ghastly,
Gaunt, and ōminous bird of yōre
Meant in croaking "Nēvermōre."

BYRON.

8. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all ōur yesterdays have lighted fōōls
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hōur upon the stage,

And then is heard nō mōre: it is a tāle
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

9. THE OCEAN.

Thōu glōrious mirror, where the Almighty's form
Glasses itself in tempests; in all time,

Cālm or convūlsēd, în brēeze, or gāle, or stōrm,
Icing the pōle, or in the torrid clīme
Dārk-hēaving—bōundless, endless, and sublime
The image of Eternity-the thrōne

e;

Of the Invisible; even from out thy slīme
The monsters of the deep are made; each zōne
Obeys thee; thōu gōest förth, dread, fathomless alone.

BYRON.

10. SONG OF THE SHIRT.

Work-work-work!

Till the brain begins to swim;

Work-work-work!

Till the eyes are heavy and dīm!
Seam, and gusset, and bānd,

Band, and gusset, and seam,

Till over the buttons I fall asleep,
And sew them on in a dream!

HOOD.

11. THE GHOST IN HAMLET.

Ghost. I am thy father's spirit;

Doomed for a certain term to walk the night;
And, for the day, confined to fast in fires,
Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature,
Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison-house,

I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word

Would harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood;
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres ;
Thy knotted and combined locks to pārt,

And each particular hair to stand on end,
Like quills upon the fretful porcupine.

SHAKESPEARE.

RECAPITULATION OF INFLECTIONS.

1. The rising inflection is the slide of appeal, of inquiry, of incompleteness, and of negation contrasted with affirmation.

2. The falling inflection is the slide of assertion, of command, and of complete statement.

3. The circumflex is the wave of wit, humor, raillery, irony, sarcasm, satire, and revenge.

4. The monotone is the tone expressive of grandeur, sublimity, reverence, awe, amazement, and horror.

INFLECTION DRILL REVIEW.

1. Repeat, three times, the long vowel sounds, ā, ē, ī, ō, ū. (1) With the rising second. (2) With the rising third. (3) With the rising fifth. (4) With the rising

octave.

2. Repeat, three times, ā, ē, I, ō, u. (1) With the falling second. (2) With the falling third. (3) With the falling fifth. (4) With the falling eighth.

3. Repeat, three times, with the same degrees of inflection as above, ē, a, a, ō, 0.

4. Repeat, three times, ā, ē, I, ō, u. (1) With the rising circumflex of the third. (2) Fifth. (3) Octave. (4) Falling circumflex of the third. (5) Falling fifth. (6) Falling octave.

5. The same degrees of the circumflex as above, on ē, ā, ä, ō, o

6. Repeat, three times, ā, ē, ī, ō, ū, with the low monotone.

7. Repeat, three times, ē, a, a, a, ō, o, with the low

monotone.

INFLECTION DRILL ON VOCALS.

Read, in concert, the words of the following Table:

1. With the rising inflection.

4. With the falling circumflex.

ā, e.-āle, māde, braid, gauge, veil, play, weight.
ä.—älms, chart, heärt, läugh, häunt, äunt, päth.
a, ô.—all, awe, law, fall, haul, bawl, erawl, ôught.
ă.―ădd, that, brăt, hand, lănd, plăid, băde.
â—âir, bâre, dâre, prâyer, thêre, hâir, scârçe.
ȧ-ask, eȧsk, tåsk, påss, gråss, dance, glance.
a, ŏ.—whạt, spot, wad, wand, was, watch, wan.
e-eat, beat, beet, these, seize, freeze, leaves.
ĕ.-end, lět, threat, get, gěm, bread, yět, said.
ẽ, I.-earth, heard, lẽarn, earn, err, third, gîrd.
e, a. they, weigh, nay, neigh, sleigh, prey, pray.
i.—īçe, isle, aisle, wine, height, while, rhyme.
I.—ill, it, win, thin, been, gin, since, zinc.
I, ẽ.—mîrth, girl, dirt, verse, terse, worse, world.
ï, ē.-pïque, elïque, ereek, oblique, ravïne.
ōōld, thōşe, grōan, fōrce, pōur, rōar, mōre.
ŏ.—ŏdd, on, blot, spot, got, god, rod, phlox.
ọ, 00, u.—move, proof, lose, loose, roof, choose.
ô, a.-ôr, nôr, war, fôr, lôrd, eôrd, fought, eaught.
ỏ, ŭ.—done, dóth, dost, dust, blood, flood, eome.
ọ, oo, u.-wolf, would, wood, could, should, good.
-ūşe, mūte, mūşe, feūd, lieū, view, new, tūbe.
ŭ, ỏ-up, but, hut, sỏn, blood, gun, duck, some.
û.—ûrge, pûrge, sûrge, cûrd, ûrn, bûrn, chûrn.
1, 00, 0.-rule, sehōōl, brute, route, wound, rude.
ụ, oo, ọ.—put, pull, push, bull, wool, wolf, wood.
oi, oy.-oil, toy, boil, eoil, roil, joy, boy, cloy.
ou, ow.-out, noun, proud, now, how, gout, pout.

EXAMPLES OF EMPHASIS, PAUSES, AND INFLECTION.

1. JOHN BUNYAN.

Bunyan is almost the only writer | that ever gave to the abstract the interest of the concrète. In the works of many celebrated authors | mén are mere personificàtions. We have not an Othello, but jealousy; not an Tágo, but pèrfidy; not a Brútus, but pàtriotism. The mind of Búnyan, on the contrary, was so imaginative | that personificátions, when he dealt with them, became mèn. A dialogue between two quàlities, in his dream, has more dramatic efféct | than a dialogue between two human beings | in most plays.

|

The style of Búnyan | is delightful to every reader, and invaluable | as a stúdy | to every pérson | who wishes to obtain a wide commánd over the English language. The vocabulary | is the vocabulary of the common pèople. There is not an exprèssion, if we except a few technical terms of theólogy, which would puzzle the rúdest peasant. We have observed several páges | which do not contain a single word of more than two syllables. Yet nò writer has said more exactly what he meant to say. For magníficence, for páthos, for vehement exhortation, for subtile disquisition, for every purpose of the poet, the órator, and the divíne, this homely dialect, the dialect of plain wórkingmen, was perfectly sufficient. There is no book in our literature | on which we would so readily. stake the fame of the old unpolluted English language; no book which shows so well | how rich that language ìs, in its own proper wealth, and how little it has been improved by all that it has bòrrowed.

Cowper said, fifty or sixty years ago, that he dared not name John Búnyan in his verse, for fear of moving a snèer. We live in better times; and we are not afraid | | to say, that though there were many clever men in England | during the latter half of the seventeenth cén