XL.--COURAGE--DESPERATE EXCITEMENT.

FIGHT, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yeomen!
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head:
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood;
Amaze the welkin with your broken staves---
A thousand hearts are great within my bosom:
Advance our standards, set upon our foes;
Our ancient word of courage, fair St. George,
Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons!
Upon them! Victory sits on our helms.-Shakspeare.

We shall insert here, as being the most appropriate place, Collins's celebrated "Ode on the Passions."

WHEN Music, heavenly maid! was young,

While yet in early Greece she

sung,

The Passions oft, to hear her shell,
Throng'd around her magic cell;
Exulting, trembling, raging, fainting,
Possess'd beyond the Muse's painting,
By turns they felt the glowing mind
Disturb'd, delighted, rais'd, refin'd;
Till once, 'tis said, when all were fir'd,
Fill'd with fury, rapt, inspir'd,
From the supporting myrtles round
They snatch'd her instruments of sound;
And as they oft had heard apart
Sweet lessons of her forceful art,
Each (for madness ruled the hour)

Would prove his own expressive pow'r.

First FEAR his hand, its skill to try,
Amid the chords, bewilder'd laid-
And back recoil'd, he knew not why,
E'en at the sound himself had made.

Next ANGER rush'd, his eyes on fire;
In lightnings own'd his secret stings:
In one rude clash he struck the lyre,
And swept with hurried hand the strings.

With woeful measures wan DESPAIR
Low sullen sounds his grief beguil'd;
A solemn, strange, and mingled air;
'Twas sad by fits, by starts 'twas wild.

But thou, O HOPE! with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure? Still it whisper'd promis'd pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail ! Still would her touch the strain prolong; And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, She call'd on Echo still through all the song; And where her sweetest theme she chose, A soft responsive voice was heard at every close; And Hope enchanted smil'd, and wav'd her golden hair:

And longer had she sung-but with a frown
REVENGE impatient rose;

He threw his blood-stain'd sword in thunder down,

And, with a withering look,

The war-denouncing trumpet took,

And blew a blast so loud and dread,

Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe;

And ever and anon he beat

The doubling drum with furious heat;

And though sometimes, each dreary pause between,

Dejected Pirr at his side

Her soul-subduing voice applied,

Yet still he kept his wild unalter'd mien,

While each strain'd ball of sight seem'd bursting from

his head.

Thy numbers, JEALOUSY, to nought were fix'd;
Sad proof of thy distressful state;

Of diff'ring themes the veering song was mix'd,
And now it courted Love, now raving call'd on HATE.

With eyes uprais'd, as one inspir'd,
Pale MELANCHOLY sat retir'd,

And from her wild sequester'd seat,

In notes by distance made more sweet,

Pour'd through the mellow horn her pensive soul;

And dashing soft from rocks around,

Bubbling runnels join'd the sound;

Through glades and glooms the mingled measure stole : Or o'er some haunted stream with fond delay, Round a holy calm diffusing,

Love of peace and lonely musing,

In hollow murmurs died away.

But, O! how alter'd was its sprightlier tone,
When CHEERFULNESS, a nymph of healthiest hue,
Her bow across her shoulder flung,

Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew,

Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung,
The hunter's call, to Fawn and Dryad known;
The oak-crown'd sisters, and their chaste-eyed queen,
Satyrs and sylvan boys, were seen

Peeping from forth their alleys green;

Brown Exercise rejoic'd to hear,

And Sport leap'd up, and seiz'd his beechen spear.

Last came Jor's ecstatic trial:
He, with viny crown advancing,

First to the lively pipe his hand address'd;
But soon he saw the brisk, awakening viol,
Whose sweet entrancing voice he lov'd the best.

They would have thought, who heard the strain,

They saw, in Tempe's vale, her native maids, Amidst the festal sounding shades,

To some unwearied minstrel dancing:
While, as his flying fingers kiss'd the strings,
Love fram'd with Mirth a gay fantastic round,
Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound,
And he, amidst his frolic play,

As if he would the charming air repay,
Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.

O MUSIC! sphere-descended maid,
Friend of pleasure, wisdom's aid,
Why, Goddess! why, to us denied,
Lay'st thou thy ancient lyre aside ?
As in that lov'd Athenian bow'r,
You learn'd an all-commanding pow'r;
Thy mimic soul, O nymph endear'd!
Can well recall what then it heard.
Where is thy native simple heart,
Devote to virtue, fancy, art?
Arise, as in that elder time,
Warm, energetic, chaste, sublime!
Thy wonders in that godlike age
Fill thy recording Sister's page-
'Tis said, and I believe the tale,
Thy humblest reed could more prevail,
Had more of strength, diviner rage,
Than all which charms this laggard age;
Even all at once together found,
Cecilia's mingled world of sound.
O bid our vain endeavours cease,
Revive the just designs of Greece;
Return in all thy simple state,
Confirm the tale her sons relate!

EXERCISES IN READING

ILLUSTRATIVE OF

THE RULES AND PRINCIPLES CONTAINED IN THE INTRODUCTION.

ANTITHETIC SENTENCES.1

1. Temperance, by fortifying the mind and body, leads to happiness: intemperance, by enervating the mind and body, ends generally in misery.

2. A wise man feareth and departeth from evil; but the fool rageth, and is confident. The wicked is driven away in his wickedness; but the righteous hath hope in his death. Righteousness exalteth a nation; but sin is a reproach to any people.

3. Almost every object that attracts our notice, has its bright and its dark side. He who habituates himself to look at the dark side will sour his disposition, and consequently impair his happiness; while he who constantly beholds it on the bright side insensibly ameliorates his temper, and, in consequence of it, improves his own happiness, and the happiness

of all around him.

4. Between fame and true honour a distinction is to be made. The former is a blind and noisy applause; the latter, a more silent and internal homage. Fame floats on the breath of the multitude; honour rests on the judgment of the thinking. Fame may give praise, while it withholds esteem; true honour implies esteem, mingled with respect.

1 The learner should refer to the Introduction (page 37) for an expla nation of Antithesis and Emphasis; also to Rule III., page 55, and the NOTES and EXAMPLES under it.