The new Speaker. ... Second edition

Front matter

ADVERTISEMENT.

. At a period when elementary books are sufficiently multi plied, and when perhaps more than a sufficiency is constantly issuing from the press, some apology may be necessary for the obtrusion of an addition to an already over-crowded codection. The present compilation is for the far greater part a reprint from a publication which, though long since with drawn, appears to have been very liberally patronized towards the close of the last century. Some of the former selections have been omitted, as less adapted to the peculiar circumstances of the age * but these have been replaced by a few original articles, and the de ficiency enriched by extracts from authors of universally acknowledged merit. The popular work distinguished by the original title of Speaker, has perhaps contributed, more than any similar treatise, to form the general taste, and correct the judgment of students * and it is hoped that the edition now offered to the public, — while assisting the exertions of the literary aspirant, — may be found to inculcate those maxims and rules of conduct which at once support every social principle, and encourage the loftier sentiments of honour and morality. CONTENTS.

Book II. Narrative Pieces

CHAP. PAGE I. The Dervise 10 II. Turkish Tale 11 III. Labour . . . ' 12 IT. The Old Man and his Ass 13 V. Hercules' Choice . . . . . . . .14 VI. The Dead Ass 17 VII. Maria . .19 VIII. The Cameleon 23 IX. The Youth and the Philosopher 26 X. Sir Balaam 27 XI. Edwin and Emma 29 XII. Edwin and Angelina ....... 32 XIII. Douglas to Lord Randolph ...... 38

Book III. Didactic Pieces

I. On Modesty 40 II. On Cheerfulness ........ 42 III. On Honour . 45 IV. On the Knowledge of the World 49 V. On the Advantages of uniting Gentleness of Manners with Firmness of Mind 51 VI. The Classic Tourist 53 VII. The Pyramids 56 VIII. Sensations on approaching the Holy Land . . .59 IX. On Study 61 X. On Satirical Wit VI CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE XI. Hamlet's Instructions to the Players . . . .64 XII. The Present Condition of Man vindicated . . .65 XIII. On the Order of Nature 67 XIV. The Origin of Superstition and Tyranny . . . .69 XV. On Happiness 71 XVI. On Virtue 74 XVII. On Versification 76 XVIII. Elegy to a Young Nobleman leaving the University . . 77 XIX. On Procrastination ....... 79 XX. The Pleasures arising from a Cultivated Imagination . 80 XXI. On the Immortality of the Soul 82

Book IV. Orations And Harangues

I. Junius Brutus over the Dead Body of Lucretia . . 85 II. Hannibal to his Soldiers ...... 87 III. C. Marius to the Romans, on their hesitating to appoint him General in the Expedition against Jugurtha, merely on Account of his Extraction . . . . .90 IV. Calisthenes' Reproof of Cleon's Flattery to Alexander . 93 V. The Scythian Ambassadors to Alexander . . .94 VI. Galgacus, the General of the Caledonii, to his Army, to incite them to Action against the Romans . . 97 VII. Sir John St. Aubin's Speech for repealing the Septennial Act 100 VIII. Sir Robert Walpole's Reply . . . . . .106 IX. The Speech of Brutus on the Death of Cæsar . . . Ill

Book V. Dialogues

I. On Criticism 113 II. On Negroes 114 III. Sir John Falstaff and Ford disguised as Brook . . 115 IV. Sir John Mel vii and Stirling 118 V. Belcour and Stockwell 123 VI. Duke and Lord ....... 126 VII. Duke and Jaques ....... 12S VIII. Henry and Lord Chief Justice 130 IX. Hamlet and Horatio ...... CONTENTS. VII CHAP. PAGB X. Brutus and Cassius 136 XI. Belarius, Guiderius, and Aviragus .... 140

Book VI. Descriptive Pieces

I. Sensibility . . 144 II. Liberty and Slavery . . . . . . .145 III. Corporal Trim's Eloquence ...... 146 IV. The Man of Ross 147 V. The Country Clergyman ...... 149 VI. The Gentleman (addressed to J. Joliffe, Esq., M.P.) . 151 VII. The Wish 152 VIII. Grongar Hill 155 IX. Hymn to Adversity ....... 160 X. Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College . . .161 XI. Elegy written in a Country Churchyard . . . 165 XII. Warrington Academy ....... 169 XIII. Ode to Fear 172 XIV. Ode to Truth 174 XV. Ode to Fancy 176 XVI. L'Allegro . . 180 XVII. IlPenseroso . . . . - . . . .185 XVIII. The Progress of Life 190 XIX. The Entry of Bolingbroke and Richard into London . 191 XX. Hotspur's Description of a Fop 193 XXI. Clarence's Dream 194 XXII. Queen Mab 196 XXIII. Apothecary 197 XXIV. Greatness 198 XXV. The Insufficiency of Worldly Pursuits to procure Happiness : an Ode ........ 200 XXVI.

Prologue to Cato 205 XXVII. Epilogue to Semiramis 206 XXVIII. Epilogue to King Lear 207 XXIX. Prologue to the Roses, or Henry VI 209 XXX. Epilogue to the Roses, or Henry VI 211 XXXI. Prologue to King Henry IV 213 XXXII. Hannibal at the Altar 215 Henry Prince of Wales and his Favourite Charger . .215 XXXIII. Written after a Moonlight Visit to the Coliseum . . 216 XXXIV. Written after swimming from Sesto to Abydos, May 10, 1801 CONTENTS.

Book VII. Pathetic Pieces

CHAP. PAGE I. The Story of Le Fevre 220 II. Yorick's Death 230 III. Elegy on the Death of an Unfortunate Lady . . . 232 IV. The Parting of Hector and Andromache . . . 235 V. Morning Hymn 240 VI. Satan's Soliloquy 241 VII. Juba and Syphax 244 VIII. Cato's Soliloquy 249 IX. A Pastoral Dialogue between Two French Shepherds . 250 X. Jaffier and Pierre ....... 255 XI. Edward and Warwick 258 XII. Orlando and Adam 262 XIII. Hotspur and Glendower ....... 265 XIV. Hotspur reading a Letter ...... 267 XV. Henry IV. 's Soliloquy on Sleep 268 XVI. Henry IV. and Prince Henry 269 XVII. Henry V. to his Soldiers 273 XVIII. Henry VI., Warwick, and Cardinal Beaufort . . . 274 XIX. Wolsey and Cromwell 275 XX. Lear 279 XXI. Macbeth's Soliloquy 280 XXII. Plato's Treatise on Immortality ..... 281 XXIII. Macduff, Malcolm, and Rosse 281 XXIV.

Anthony's Soliloquy over Cæsar's Body .... 284 XXV. Anthony's Funeral Oration over Cæsar's Body . . 285 XXVI. The Quarrel of Brutus and Cassius .... 287 XXVII. Othello and Iago 291 XXVIII. Hamlet's Soliloquy on his Mother's Marriage . . . 297 XXIX. Hamlet and Ghost 298 XXX. Hamlet's Soliloquy on Death 301 XXXI. Soliloquy of the King in Hamlet ..... 302 XXXII. Ode on St. Cecilia's Day 304 XXXIII. Alexander's Feast 308 Appendix Klfli.AT.V Page 53, line 10 from the bottom, /or exalting, read exulting. Page 55, line 3, for bard, rani band. Page 55, last line, for x»H-'f'""' read ■j^uy.i^ir.rit. Page 56, for AnEKAAT4'EN, read AnEKAAT-FFN. 105, line •"> from bottom, for nation, read motion. *#* It may be interesting to state, in reference to the conjectures respecting the origin of the Pyramids, as detailed in page 56, that a very learned work has lately been published by Mr. Taylor — A ut In n- . .f "JnnitU Identified "—in which it is argued from pro found and elaborate calculations, that those enormous dum wwa raised that they might srrre as a rerun/ In the ei,,l „f time, of the. erasure of the earth; and become a standard o/ measures of length, capacity, and weight, to which all nations might .-.. as to a commnn authority, lo regulate their dealing! with each oilier.

Chapter I

To be ever active in laudable pursuits, is the distinguish ing characteristic of a man of merit. Never put off till to-morrow what can be done to-day. Or, since we are not sure of a single moment, do not defer till the next hour that which can be performed in the present, unless the doing it, or leaving it undone, are objects of equal insignificance. The nimble runner courses Fortune down, And then he banquets, for she feeds the bold. There is an heroic innocence, as well as an heroic courage. There is a mean in all things. Even virtue itself has its stated limits * which not being strictly observed, it ceases to be virtue. No revenge is more heroic, than that which torments envy, by doing good. The discretion of a man deferreth his anger, and it is his glory to pass over a transgression. Money, like manure, does no good till it is spread.

There is no real use of riches, except in the distribution ; the rest is all conceit. A wise man will desire no more than what he may get justly, use soberly, distribute cheerfully, and live upon con tentedly. A contented mind, and a good conscience, will make a man B happy in all conditions. He knows not how to fear who dares to die. There is but one way of fortifying the soul against all gloomy presages and terrors of mind, and that is, by secur ing to ourselves the friendship and protection of that Being who disposes of events and governs futurity. CHAPTEE II. Without a friend the world is but a wilderness. A generous friendship no cold medium knows, Glows with one love, with one resentment glows ; One should our interests, one our passion be ; My friend should hate the man that injures me.

Pope's Homer. If you have one friend, think yourself happy. When once you profess yourself a friend, endeavour to be always such. He can never have any true friends that will be often changing them. Nothing more engages the affections of men than a hand some address and graceful conversation. Complaisance renders a superior amiable, an equal agreeable, and an inferior acceptable. Ingratitude is a crime so shameful, that the man was never yet found who would acknowledge himself guilty of it. Truth is born with us, and we must do violence to nature tp shake off our veracity. There cannot be a greater treachery than first to raise a confidence and then deceive it. No man has a thorough taste of prosperity to whom ad versity never happened. It is as great a point of wisdom to hide ignorance as to discover knowledge.

Chapter III

As to be perfectly just is an attribute of the divine nature, to be so to the utmost of our abilities is the glory of man. No man was ever cast down with the injuries of Fortune, unless he had before suffered himself to be deceived by her favours. Anger may glance into the breast of a wise man, but rests only in the bosom of fools. None more impatiently suffer injuries than those that are most forward in doing them. A more glorious victory cannot be gained over another man than this, that when the injury began on his part the kindness should begin on ours. The prodigal robs his heir, the miser robs himself. To mourn without measure is folly • not to mourn at all, insensibility. The coin that is most current among mankind is flattery ; the only benefit of which is, that by hearing what we are not, we may be instructed what we ought to be.

The character of the person who commends you is to be considered before you set a value on his esteem. The wise man applauds him whom he thinks most virtuous, the rest of the world him who is most wealthy. The temperate man's pleasures are durable, because they are regular ; and all his life is calm and serene, because it is innocent. The love of gaming will corrupt the best principles in the world.

Chapter IV

He that is truly polite, knows how to contradict with respect and to please without adulation, and is equally remote from an insipid complaisance and a low familiarity. When Darius offered Alexander ten thousand talents to B divide Asia equally with him, he answered, The earth cannot bear two suns nor Asia two kings. Parmenio, a friend of Alexander, hearing the great offers Darius had made, said, Were I Alexander I would accept them. So would I, replied Alexander, were I Parmenio. Though an honourable title may be conveyed to pos terity, yet the ennobling qualities, which are the soul of greatness, are a sort of incommunicable perfections, and cannot be transferred. If a man could bequeath his virtues by will, and settle his sense and learning upon his heirs, as certainly as he can his lands, a noble descent would then indeed be a very valuable privilege.

Chapter V

Many have fallen by the edge of the sword, but not so many as have fallen by the tongue. Well is he that is defended from it and hath not passed through the venom thereof; who hath not drawn the yoke thereof; nor been bound in her bonds ; for the yoke thereof is a yoke of iron, and the bands thereof are bands of brass ; the death thereof is an evil death. My son, blemish not thy good deeds, neither use uncom fortable words when thou givest anything. A friend cannot be known in prosperity, and an enemy cannot be hidden in adversity. The friend thou hast, and his adoption tried, Grapple him to thy heart with hooks of steel ; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch' d, unfledged comrade. Whoso discovereth secrets loseth his credit and shall never find a friend to his mind.

Honour thy father with thy whole heart, and forget not the sorrows of thy mother ; how canst thou recompense them the things they have done for thee '? To labour, and to be content with that a man hath, is a sweet life. Be in peace with many ; nevertheless, have but one coun sellor of a thousand. Let reason go before every enterprise, and counsel before every action.

Chapter VI

The latter part of a wise man's life is taken up in curing the follies, prejudices, and false opinions he had contracted in the former. Censure is the tax a man pays to the public for being eminent. Party is the madness of many, for the gain of a few. To endeavour to work upon the vulgar with fine sense, iB like attempting to hew blocks of marble with a razor. Superstition is the spleen of the soul. He who utters a falsehood is not sensible how great a task he undertakes : for he must be forced to invent twenty more to maintain that one. The surest mode of escaping the temptation to commit a falsehood is never to be guilty of any act which we are either afraid or ashamed to own ;— as the safest way to avoid running in debt, is never to think of purchasing any article when we have not the money demanded for it.

There is nothing wanting to make all rational and disin terested people in the world of one rehgion, but that they should talk together every day. Men are grateful in the same degree that they are resent. fui. Economy is no disgrace ; it is better living on a little than outliving a great deal. Next to the satisfaction I receive in the prosperity of an honest man, I am best pleased with the confusion of a rascal. What is often termed shyness, is nothing more than refined sense and an indifference to common observations. The higher character a person supports the more he should regard his minutest actions. Deference often shrinks and withers as much upon the approach of intimacy, as the sensitive plant does upon the touch of one's finger. A liar begins by making falsehood appear Like truth, and ends with making truth itself appear like falsehood.

Chapter VII

Deference is the most complicate, the most indirect, and the most elegant of all compliments. He that lies in bed all a summer's morning, loses the chief pleasure of the day : he that gives up his youth to indolence undergoes a loss of the same kind. Shining characters are not always the most agreeable ones. The mild radiance of an emerald is by no means less pleasing than the glare of the ruby. Learning is like mercury, one of the most powerful and excellent things in the world in skilful hands ; in unskilful, most mischievous. A man should never be ashamed to own he has been in the wrong, which is but saying in other words, that he is wiser to-day than he was yesterday. Wherever we find a great deal of gratitude in a poor man, we may take it for granted there would be as much gene rosity if he were a rich man.

It often happens that those are the best people whose cha racters have been most injured by slanderers : as we usually find that to be the sweetest fruit which the birds have been pecking at.

Chapter VIII

What a piece of work is man ! how noble in reason ! how infinite in faculties ! in form and moving how express and admirable ! in action how like an angel ! in apprehension how like a God! If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. He is a good divine who follows his own instructions : I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow my own teaching. Men's evil manners live in brass ; their virtues we write in water. The sense of death is most in apprehension ; And the poor beetle that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance feels a pang as great, As when a giant dies. How far the little candle throws his beams ! So shines a good deed in a naughty world. The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherits shall dissolve ; And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, Leave not a wreck behind ! we are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.

Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well, When our deep plots do fail ; and that should teach us There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will. The Poet's eye in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven ; And as imagination bodies forth The form of things unknown, the Poet's pen Turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name. What stronger breast-plate than a heart untainted ? Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just : And he but naked (tho' lock'd up in steel) Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.

Chapter IX

Cowards die many times before their deaths ; The valiant never taste of death but once. 0 momentary grace of mortal men, Which we more hunt for than the grace of God ! Who builds his hope in th' air of men's fair looks, Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast, Ready with every nod to tumble down Into the fatal bowels of the deep. Oh, who can hold a fire in his hand, By thinking on the frosty Caucasus 1 Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast 1 Or wallow naked in December snow, By thinking on fantastic summer's heat 1 Oh, no ! the apprehension of the good Gives but a greater feeling to the worse ; Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more, Than when it bites, but lanceth not the sore. 'Tis slander; Whose edge is sharper than the sword ; whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile ; whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world.

Kings, queens, and states, Maids, matrons — nay, the secrets of the grave, This viperous slander enters. There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which taken at the flood leads on to fortune ; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows, and in miseries. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty space from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusky death. Out, out, brief candle ! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more ! It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. b

Chapter I. The

dervise. A Dervise, travelling through Tartary, being arrived at the town of Balk, went into the king's palace by mistake, as thinking it to be a public inn or caravansary. Having looked about him for some time, he entered into a long gallery, where he laid down his wallet, and spread his carpet, in order to repose himself upon it after the manner of the eastern nations. He had not been long in this posture, before he was discovered by some of the guards, who asked him what was his business in that place ? The Dervise told them he intended to take up his night's lodging in that caravansary. The guards let him know, in a very angry manner, that the house he was in was not a caravansary, but the king's palace. It happened that the king himself passed through the gal lery during this debate, and smiling at the mistake of the Dervise, asked him how he could possibly be so dull as not to distinguish a palace from a caravansary ?

Sir, says the Dervise, give me leave to ask your majesty a question or two. Who were the persons that lodged in this house when it was first built 1 The king replied, His ancestors. And who, says the Dervise, was the last person that lodged here ? The king replied, His father. And who is it, says the Dervise, that lodges here at present i The king told him, That it was he himself. And who, says the Dervise, will be here after you ? The king answered, The young prince his son. Ah, sir, said the Dervise, a house that changes its inhabitants so often, and receives such a per petual succession of guests, is not a palace, but a caravansary. Spectator.

Chapter II. Turkish Tale

We are told that the Sultan Mahmoud, by his perpetual wars abroad, and his tyranny at home, had filled his do minions with ruin and desolation, and half unpeopled the Persian Empire. The vizier to this great Sultan (whether an humorist or enthusiast, we are not informed) pretended to have learned of a certain Dervise to understand the lan guage of birds, so that there was not a bird that could open his mouth, but the vizier knew what it was he said. As he was one evening with the emperor, in their return from hunting, they saw a couple of owls upon a tree, that grew near an old wall out of a heap of rubbish. I would fain know, says the Sultan, what those two owls are saying to one another ; listen to their discourse, and give me an account of it. The vizier approached the tree, pretending to be very attentive to the two owls.

Upon his return to the Sultan, Sir, says he, I have heard part of their con versation, but dare not tell you what it is. The Sultan would not be satisfied with such an answer, but forced him to repeat word for word everything the owls had said. You must know, then, said the vizier, that one of these owls has a son, and the other a daughter, between whom they are now upon a treaty of marriage. The father of the son said to the father of the daughter in my hearing, Brother, I consent to this marriage, provided you will settle upon your daughter fifty ruined villages for her person. To which the father of the daughter replied, instead of fifty I will give her five hundred, if you please. God grant a long life to Sultan Mahmoud; whilst he reigns over us, we shall never want ruined villages. The story says, the Sultan was so touched with the fable, that he rebuilt the towns and villages which had been de stroyed, and from that time forward consulted the good of his people. Spectator.

Chapter III. Labour

Labour, the offspring of Want, and the mother of Health and Contentment, lived with her two daughters in a little cottage, by the side of a hill, at a great distance from town. They were totally unacquainted with the great, and kept no better company than the neighbouring villagers ; but having a desire of seeing the world, they forsook their companions and habitation, and determined to travel. Labour went soberly along the road with Health on the right hand, who by the sprightliness of her conversation, and songs of cheer fulness and joy, softened the toils of the way ; while Con tentment went smiling on the left, supporting the steps of her mother, and by her perpetual good-humour increasing the vivacity of her sister. In this manner they travelled over forests and through towns and villages, till at last they arrived at the capital of the kingdom.

At their entrance into the great city, the mother conjured her daughters never to lose sight of her ; for it was the will of Jupiter, she said, that their separation should be attended with the utter ruin of all three. But Health was of too gay a disposition to regard the counsels of Labour : she suffered herself to be debauched by Intemper ance, and at last died in child-birth of disease. Content ment, in the absence of her sister, gave herself up to the enticements of Sloth, and was never heard of after ; while Labour, who could have no enjoyment without her daugh ters, went everywhere in search of them, till she was at last seized by Lassitude in her way, and died in misery. World.

Chapter IV. The Old Man And His Ass

An old man and a little boy were driving an ass to the next market to sell. What a fool is this fellow (says a man upon the road) to be trudging it on foot with his son, that his ass may go light ! The old man hearing this, set his boy upon the ass, and went whistling by the side of him. Why, sirrah ! (cries a second man to the boy,) is it fit for you to be riding, while your poor old father is walking on foot ? The father, upon this rebuke, took down his boy from the ass, and mounted himself. Do you see (says a third) how the lazy old knave rides along upon his beast, while his poor little boy is almost crippled with walking ? The old man no sooner heard this, than he took up his son behind him. Pray, honest friend (says a fourth), is that ass your own ? Yes, says the man. One would not have thought so, replied the other, by your loading him so unmercifully.

You and your son are better able to carry the poor beast than he you. Anything to please, says the owner ; and alighting with his son, they tied the legs of the ass together, and by the help of a pole endeavoured to carry him upon their shoulders over the bridge that led to the town. This was so entertaining a sight, that the people ran in crowds to laugh at it ; till the ass, conceiving a dislike to the over complaisance of his master, burst asunder the cords that tied him, slipped from the pole, and tumbled into the river. The poor old man made the best of his way home, ashamed and vexed, that by endeavouring to please everybody, he had pleased nobody, and lost his ass into the bargain. World.

Chapter V. Hercules' Choice

When Hercules was in that part of his youth in which it was natural for him to consider what course of life he ought to pursue, he one day retired into a desert, where the silence and solitude of the place very much favoured his meditations. As he was musing on his present condition, and very much perplexed in himself on the state of life he should choose, he saw two women of a larger stature than ordinary approaching towards him. One of them had a very noble air, and graceful deportment — her beauty was natural and easy, her person clean and unspotted, her eyes cast towards the ground with an agreeable reserve, her mo tion and behaviour full of modesty, and her raiment as white as snow. The other had a great deal of health and floridness in her countenance, which she had helped with an artificial white and red ; and endeavoured to appear more graceful than ordinary in her mien, by a mixture of affectation in all her gestures.

She had a wonderful con fidence and assurance in her looks, and all the variety of colours in her dress, that she thought were the most proper to show her complexion to advantage. She cast her eyes upon herself, then turned them on those that were pre sent, to see how they liked her, and often looked on the figure she made in her own shadow. Upon her nearer approach to Hercules, she stepped before the other lady, who came forward with a regular composed carriage, and running up to him, accosted him after the following manner : My dear Hercules, says she, I find you are very much divided in your own thoughts upon the way of life that you ought to choose ; be my friend, and follow me ; I will lead you into the possession of pleasure, and out of the reach of pain, and remove you from all the noise and disquietude of business.