صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

fit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth; as, which of you shall not? With this I depart-that as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my leath.

LESSON CXV.

Mark Antony's Oration.—IB.

FRIEND, Romans, Countrymen! lend me your ears.
I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do, lives after them;
The good is oft interréd with their bones:
So let it be with Cæsar!-Noble Brutus
Hath told you, Cæsar was ambitious-
If it were so, it was a grievous fault;
And grievously hath Cæsar answered it!
Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest-
For Brutus is an honourable man!

So are they all! all honourable men—
Come I to speak in Cæsar's funeral.

He was my friend, faithful and just to me-
But Brutus says he was ambitious;

And Brutus is an honourable man!

He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:
Did this in Cæsar seem ambitious?

When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept.
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff!-
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious ;

And Brutus is an honourable man!

You all did see, that, on the Lupercal,

I thrice presented him a kingly crown,

Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?—
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;

And sure he is an honourable man!

I speak, not to disprove what Brutus spoke ;

But here I am to speak what I do know.

You all did love him once; not without cause:

What cause withholds you, then, to mourn for him!

O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason!-Bear with me:
My heart is in the coffin there with Cæsar;
And I must pause till it come back to me.
But yesterday, the word of Cæsar might
Have stood against the world-now lies he there,
And none so poor to do him reverence!
O masters! if I were disposed to stir

Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong,
Who, you all know, are honourable men!—
I will not do them wrong: I rather choose
To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you,
Than I will wrong such honourable men !—
But here's a parchment with the seal of Cæsar—
I found it in his closet-'tis his will!

Let but the commons hear this testament-
Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read-
And they would go and kiss dead Cæsar's wounds,
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood
Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,
And, dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy,

Unto their issue!

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:

'Twas 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-belovéd Brutus stabb'd!
And, as he pluck'd his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Cæsar follow'd it!
As, rushing out of doors, to be resolved
If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no;
For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel!
Judge, O ye Gods, how dearly Cæsar loved him!
This, this was the unkindest cut of all!

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

Quite vanquish'd him. Then burst his mighty heart!
Ard, in his mantle muffling up his face,

Even at the base of Pompey's statue—

Which all the while ran blood!-great Cæsar fell!
Oh, what a fall was there, my countrymen!
Then I, and you, and all of us, fell down;
Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us!
Oh, now you weep, and I perceive you feel
The dint of pity: these are gracious drops!
Kind souls! what! weep you when you but behold
Our Cæsar's vesture wounded?—look you here!
Here is himself-marr'd, as you see, by traitors!-
Good friends! sweet friends! let me not stir you up
To such a sudden flood of mutiny!

They that have done this deed, are honourable !
What private griefs they have, alas, I know not,
That made them do it: they are wise and honourable,
And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you.

I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts:

I am no orator, as Brutus is;

But, as you know me all, a plain, blunt man,

That loves his friend-and that they know full well,
That gave me public leave to speak of him—
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
To stir men's blood: I only speak right on.
I tell you that which you yourselves do know;
Show you sweet Cæsar's wounds, poor, poor, dumb
mouths!

And bid them speak for me.

But, were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue
In every wound of Cæsar, that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny!

LESSON CXVI.

On Increasing the Army, preparatory to the War of 1812.J. C. CALHOUN.

SIR, I think a regular force, raised for a period of actual hostilities, cannot be called a standing army. There is a just distinction between such a force and one raised

as a peace establishment. Whatever may be the composition of the latter, I hope the former will consist of some of the best materials of the country. The ardent patriotism of our young men, and the reasonable bounty in land, which is proposed to be given, will impel them to join their country's standard and to fight her battles; they will not forget the citizen in the soldier, and, in obeying their officer, learn to contemn their constitution.

In our officers and soldiers we will find patriotism no less pure and ardent than in the private citizen; but if they should be depraved, as represented, what have we to fear from twenty-five or thirty thousand regulars? Where will be the boasted militia of the gentleman? Can one million of militia be overpowered by thirty thousand regulars? If so, how can we rely on them against a foe invading our country? Sir, I have no such contemptuous idea of our militia; their untaught bravery is sufficient to crush all foreign and internal attempts on their country's liberties.

But we have not yet come to the end of the chapter of dangers. The gentleman's imagination, so fruitful on this subject, conceives that our constitution is not calculated for war, and that it cannot stand its rude shock. This is rather extraordinary: we must then depend upon the pity or contempt of other nations, for our existence? The constitution, it seems, has failed in its essential part, “to provide for the common defence." No, says the gentleman from Virginia, it is competent for a defensive, but not an offensive war.

It is not necessary for me to expose the error of this opinion. Why make the distinction in this instance? Will he pretend to say, that this is an offensive war; a war of conquest? Yes, the gentleman has dared to make this assertion, and for reasons no less extraordinary than the assertion itself. He says our rights are violated on the ocean, and that these violations affect our shipping and commercial rights, to which the Canadas have no relation. The doctrine of retaliation has been much abused of late by an unnatural extension; we are now to witness a new abuse. The gentleman from Virginia has limited it down to a point. By his system, if you receive a blow on the breast, you dare not return it on the head; you are obliged to measure and return it on the precise point on

H

which it was received. If you do not proceed with this mathematical accuracy, it ceases to be just self-defence; it becomes an unprovoked attack.

The gentleman is at a loss to account for, what he calls, our hatred to England. He asks, how can we hate the country of Locke, of Newton, Hampden and Chatham; a country having the same language and customs with ourselves, and descending from a common ancestry. Sir, the laws of human affections are uniform. If we have so much to attach us to that country, powerful, indeed, must be the cause which has overpowered it.

Yes, sir, there is a cause strong enough: not that occult, courtly affection, which he has supposed to be entertained for France; but it is to be found in continued and unprovoked insult and injury -a cause so manifest, that the gentleman from Virginia had to exert much ingenuity to overlook it. But, sir, here I think the gentleman, in his eager admiration of England, has not been sufficiently guarded in his argument. Has he reflected on the cause of that admiration? Has he examined the reasons of our high regard for her Chatham? It is his ardent patriotism; the heroic courage of his mind, that could not brook the least insult or injury offered to his country, but thought that her interest and honour ought to be vindicated at every hazard and expense! I hope, when we are called on to admire, we shall also be asked to imitate. I hope the gentleman does not wish a monopoly of those great virtues to remain with that nation!

LESSON CXVII.

The Antiquity of Freedom.-Bryant.

HERE are old trees, tall oaks and gnarléd pines, That stream with gray-green mosses; here the ground Was never touch'd by spades, and flowers spring up Unsown, and die ungather'd. It is sweet

To linger here, among the flitting birds

And leaping squirrels, wandering brooks, and winds
That shake the leaves, and scatter as they pass

« السابقةمتابعة »