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Of falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself, and startles at destruction ?—
'Tis the Divinity that stirs within us;

'Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
And intimates Eternity to man.

Eternity!-thou pleasing-dreadful thought!
Through what variety of untried being,

Through what new scenes and changes must we pass !
The wide, the unbounded prospect, lies before me;
But shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it.
Here will I hold. If there's a Power above-
And that there is, all nature cries aloud

Through all her works-He must delight in virtue ;'
And that which He delights in, must be happy.

But when? or where? This world was made for Cæsar.

I'm weary of conjectures-this must end them.

[Laying his hand on his sword.] Thus am I doubly arm'd. My death and life, My bane and antidote, are both before me. This in a moment, brings me to an end; But this informs me I shall never die ! The soul, secur'd in her existence, smiles At the drawn dagger, and defies its point.The stars shall fade way, the sun himself Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years; But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, Unhurt amid the war of elements,

The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds!

Addison.

Douglas's Account of Himself.

My name is Norval: on the Grampian hills
My father feeds his flocks; a frugal swain,
Whose constant care is to increase his store,
And keep his only son, myself, at home:
For I had heard of battles, and I long'd
To follow to the field some warlike lord;

And Heaven soon granted what my sire denied.
This moon, which rose last night round as my shield,
Had not yet filled her horns, when, by her light,
A band of fierce barbarians, from the hills,
Rush'd like a torrent down upon the vale,
Sweeping our flocks and herds. The shepherds fled
For safety, and for succour. I alone,
With bended bow, and quiver full of arrows,
Hover'd about the enemy, and mark'd

The road he took; then hasted to my friends,
Whom, with a troop of fifty chosen men,
I met advancing. The pursuit I led,
Till we o'ertook the spoil-encumber'd foe.

We fought and conquer'd! Ere a sword was drawn,
An arrow from my bow had pierc'd their chief,
Who wore that day the arms which now I wear.
Returning home in triumph, I disdain'd
The shepherd's slothful life; and having heard
That our good king had summon'd his bold peers
To lead their warriors to the Carron side,

I left my father's house, and took with me
A chosen servant to conduct my steps-
Yon trembling coward who forsook his master.
Journeying with this intent, I pass'd these towers ;
And, heaven-directed, came this day to do
The happy deed that gilds my humble name.

Home.

Brutus on the Death of Cæsar.

ROMANS, Countrymen, and Lovers!-hear me for my cause; and be silent that you may hear. Believe me for mine honour; and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe. Censure me in your wisdom; and awake your senses, that you may the better judge.If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Cæsar's, to him I say, that Brutus love to Cæsar was no less than his. If, then, that friend demand why Brutus rose against Cæsar, this

is my answer; not that I loved Cæsar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Cæsar were liv ing, and die all slaves; than that Cæsar were dead, to live all freemen? As Cæsar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him; but as he was ambitious, I slew him! There are tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honour for his valour, and death for his ambition! Who's here so base, that would be a bond man? if any, speak! for him have I offended.Who's here so rude, that would not be a Roman ? if any, speak! for him have I offended. Who's here so vile, that will not love his country? if any, speak! for him have I offended.I pause for a reply.77

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None? then none have I offended! I have done no more to Cæsar, than you should do to. Brutus. The question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol his glory not extenuated wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered death.A

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Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony; who, though he had no hand in his death, shall re ceive the benefit of his dying, a place in the com monwealth; 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 death. l ba♬

Shakspeare.

Hamlet's Soliloquy on Death.

To be or not to be ?-that is the question.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The stings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,

And, by opposing, end them ?-To die-to sleep-
No more!-and by a sleep, to say we end
The heart-ach, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die-to sleep

To sleep?-perchance to dream!-ay, there's the rub!

For, in that sleep of death, what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect,
That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes-
When he himself might his quietus make,
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To groan and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death-
That undiscover'd country, from whose bourne
No traveller returns!-puzzles the will;
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus, conscience does make cowards of us all :
And, thus, the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action!

Shakspeare.

Cardinal Wolsey's Speech to Cromwell.

CROMWELL, I did not think to shed a tear,
In all my miseries; but thou hast forc'd me,
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman-
Let's dry our eyes, and thus far hear me, Cromwell;
And when I am forgotten, as I shall be,

And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
Of me must more be heard, say then I taught thee-
Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory,

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And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, \ } /
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise int: q9s W
A sure, and safe one-though thy master miss'd it, \/
Mark but my fall, and that which ruin'd me to ou3⁄4”
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition lot of
By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then, 95 I
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Love thyself last cherish those hearts that hate thee:
Corruption wins not more than honesty.to oldegeool
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, var də xuấ
To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not.
Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's,
Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Crom-
well,

Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the King.
And, pr'ythee, lead me in-

There take an inventory of all I have;

To the last penny, 'tis the King's. My robe,
And my integrity to Heaven, is all

I dare now call my own. O Cromwell! Cromwell!
Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal
I serv'd my King, he would not in mine. age
Have left me naked to mine enemies!

Shakspeare.

Lady Randolph's Soliloquy, Lamenting the Death of her Husband and Child

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YE woods and wilds! whose melancholy gloom 11 £. Accords with my soul's sadness, and draws forth all The voice of sorrow from my bursting heart 7/ Farewell a while. I will not leave you long shit bi For, in your shades, I deem some spirit dwells,osti"?? Who, from the chiding stream, or groaning oak,day A Still hears and answers to Matilda's moan.mf toŸ Oh Douglas! Douglas! if departed ghosts bak Are e'er permitted to review this world, bbs ST Within the circle of that wood thou art ng soluft I And, with the passion of immortals, hear'st

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