Chapter XXIV: Conclusion: Of Farewell Address at New Orleans (7)

Love. Where have you been? I have wanted you
above an hour.
James. Whom do you want, sir,--your coachman or your
cook? for I am both one and t' other.
Love. I want my cook.
James. I thought, indeed, it was not your coachman; for you
have had no great occasion for him since your last pair of horses
were starved; but your cook, sir, shall wait upon you in an
instant. [ Puts off his coachman's great-coat and appears as a
cook.] Now sir, I am ready for your commands.
Love. I am engaged this evening to give a supper.
James. A supper, sir! I have not heard the word this half-year;
a dinner, indeed, now and then; but, for a supper, I'm
almost afraid, for want of practice, my hand is out.
Love. Leave off your saucy jesting, and see that you provide
a good supper.
James. That may be done with a good deal of money, sir.
Love. Is the mischief in you? Always money! Can you
say nothing else but money, money, money? My children, my
servants, my relations, can pronounce nothing but money.
James. Well, sir; but how many will there be at table?
love. About eight or ten; but I will have supper dressed
but for eight; for if there be enough for eight, there is enough
for ten.
James. Suppose, sir, at one end, a handsome soup; at the
other, a fine Westphalia ham and chickens; on one side, a fillet
of veal; on the other, a turkey, or rather a bustard, which may
be had for about a guinea--
Love. Zounds! is the fellow providing an entertainment for
my lord mayor and the court of aldermen?
James. Then a ragout--
Love. I'll have no ragout. Would you burst the good people
you dog?
James. Then pray, sir, what will you have?
Love. Why, see and provide something to cloy their stomachs:
let there be two good dishes of soup-maigre; a large suet pudding;
some dainty, fat pork-pie, very fat; a fine, small lean
breast of mutton, and a large dish with two artichokes. There;
that's plenty and variety.
James. O, dear--
Love. Plenty and variety.
James. But, sir, you must have some poultry.
Love. No; I'll have none.
James. Indeed, sir, you should.
Love. Well, then,--kill the old hen, for she has done laying.
James. Mercy! sir, how the folks will talk of it; indeed,
people say enough of you already.
Love. Eh! why, what do the people say, pray?
James. Oh, sir, if I could be assured you would not be angry.
Love. Not at all; for I'm always glad to hear what the
world says of me.
James. Why, sir, since you will have it, then, they make a
jest of you everywhere; nay, of your servants, on your account.
One says, you pick a quarrel with them quarterly, in order to
find an excuse to pay them no wages.
Love. Poh! poh!
James. Another says, you were taken one night stealing
your own oats from your own horses.
Love. That must be a lie; for I never allow them any.
James. In a word, you are the bye-word everywhere; and
you are never mentioned, but by the names of covetous, stingy,
scraping, old--
Love. Get along, you impudent villain!
James. Nay, sir, you said you would n't be angry.
Love. Get out, you dog! you--
Fielding.

CCCLXXVIII.

THE LETTER.

SQUIRE EGAN AND HIS NEW IRISH SERVANT, ANDY.
Squire. Well, Andy, you went to the postoffice, as I
ordered you?
Andy. Yis, sir.
Squire. Well, what did you find?
Andy. A most impertinent fellow indade, sir.
Squire. How so?
Andy Says I, as decent like as a gentleman, "I want a letther,
sir, if you plase." "Who do you want it for?" said the
posth-masther, as ye call him. "I want a letter, sir, if you
plase," said I "And whom do you want it for?" said he
again. "And what 's that to you?" said I.
Squire. You blockhead, what did he say to that?
Andy. He laughed at me, sir, and said he could not tell what
leather to give me, unless I told him the direction.
Squire. Well, you told him then, did you?
Andy. "The directions I got," said I "was to get a leather
here,--that 's the directions." "Who gave you the directions?"
says he. "The masther" said I. "And who 's your
masther?" said he. "What consarn is that of yours?" said I.
Squire. Did he break your head, then?
Andy. No sir. "Why you stupid rascal," said he, "if you
don't tell me his name, how can I give you his leather?" "You
could give it, if you liked," said I; "only you are fond of axing
impudent questions, because you think I'm simple." "Get out
o' this!" said he. "Your masther must be as great a goose as
yourself, to send such a missenger."
Squire. Well, how did you save my honor, Andy?
Andy. "Bad luck to your impudence!" said I. "Is it Squire
Egan you dare say goose to?" "O Squire Egan's your masther?"
said he. "Yes," says I; "Have you anything to say
agin it?"
Squire. You got the letter, then, did you?
Andy. "Here 's a leather for the squire," says he. "You
are to pay me eleven pence posthage." "What 'ud I pay 'levenpence
for?" said I "For posthage," said he. "Did n't I see
you give that gentlewoman a leather for four-pence, this blessed
minit?" said I; "and a bigger letther than this? Do you think
I 'm a fool?" says I? "Here 's a four-pence for you, and give
me the letther."
Squire. I wonder he did n't break your skull, and let some
light into it.
Andy. "Go along, you stupid thafe!" says he, because I
would n't let him chate your honor.
Square. Well, well; give me the letter.
Andy. I have n't it, sir. He would n't give it to me, sir.
Squire. Who would n't give it to you?
Andy. That old chate beyant in the town.
Square. Did n't you pay what he asked?
Andy. Arrah, sir, why would I let you be chated, when he
was selling them before my face for four-pence a-piece?
Squire. Go back, you scoundrel, or I'll horsewhip you.
Andy. He'll murther me, if I say another word to him about
the leather; he swore he would.
Squire. I'll do it, if he don't, if you are not back in less than
an hour. [Exit]
Andy. O, that the like of me should be murthered for defending
the charrackter of my masther! It's not I'll go to dale
with that bloody chate again. I'll off to Dublin, and let the
leather rot on his dirty hands, bad luck to him!
Anonymous.

CCCLXXIX.

THE FRENCHMAN'S LESSON.

Frenchman. Ha! my friend! I have met one very
strange name in my lesson. Vat you call H-o-u-g-h,--eh?
Tutor. "Huff."
Fr. Très bien, "huff;" and snuff you spell s-n-o-u-p-h?
Tut. Oh! no, no! "Snuff" is spelled s-n-u-f-f. In fact,
words in o-u-g-h are a little irregular.
Fr. Ah, very good!--'t is beautiful language! H-o-u-g-h
is "huff." I will remember; and of course, c-o-u-g-h is "cuff."
I have a bad "cuff,"--eh?
Tut. No, that is wrong; we say "kauff,"--not "cuff"
Fr. "Kauff," eh? "Huff," and "kauff;" and, pardonnez-moi,
how you call d-o-u-g-h--"duff,"--eh? is it "duff?"
Tut. No, not "duff."
Fr. Not "duff!" Ah oui; I understand, it is "dauff,"
--eh?
Tut. No; d-o-u-g-h spells "doe."
Fr. "Doe!" It 's ver' fine! Wonderful language! It is
"doe;" and t-o-u-g-h is "toe," certainement. My beefsteak is
very "toe."
Tut. Oh! no, no! You should say "tuff."
Fr. "Tuff!" And the thing the farmer uses, how you
call him, p-l-o-u-g-h,--"pluff," is it? Ha! you smile. I see
that I am wrong; it must be "plaff." No? then it is "ploe,"
like "doe?" It is one beautiful language! ver' fine! "ploe!"
Tut. You are still wrong, my friend; it is "plow."
Fr. "Plow!" Wonderful language! I shall understand
ver' soon. "Plow" "doe" "kauff;" and one more r-o-u-g-h
--what you call General Taylor,--"Rauff and Ready?"
No? then "Row and Ready?"
Tut. No; r-o-u-g-h spells "ruff."
Fr. "Ruff," ha? Let me not forget. R-o-u-g-h is "ruff,"
and b-o-u-g-h is "buff,"--ha?
Tut. No; "bow."
Fr. Ah! 't is ver' simple! Wonderful language! But I
have had vat you call e-n-o-u-g-h,--ha? Vat you call him?--Ha! ha! ha!
Anonymous.

CCCLXXX.

HOW TO TELL BAD NEWS.

Mr. H.--Steward.

Mr. H. Ha! Steward, How are you, my old boy? How
do things go on at home?
Steward. Bad enough, your honor; the magpie's dead.
Mr. H. Poor mag! so he's gone. How came he to die?
Stew. Over-ate himself sir.
Mr. H. Did he, faith? a greedy dog; why, what did he get
he liked so well?
Stew. Horse-flesh, sir; he died of eating horse-flesh.
Mr. H. How came he to get so much horse-flesh?
Stew. All your father's horses, sir.
Mr. H. What! Are they dead, too?
Stew. Ay, sir; they died of over-work.
Mr. H. And why were they over-worked, pray?
Stew. To carry water, sir.
Mr. H. To carry water! and what were they carrying water
for?
Stew. Sure, sir, to put out the fire.
Mr. H. Fire! what fire?
Stew. Oh, sir, your father's house is burned down to the
ground.
Mr. H. My father's house burned down! and how came it
set on fire?
Stew. I think, sir, it must have been the torches.
Mr. H. Torches! what torches?
Stew. At your mother's funeral.
Mr. H. My mother dead!
Stem. Ah, poor lady, she never looked up after it.
Mr. H. After what?
Stew. The loss of your father.
Mr. H. My father gone too?
Stew. Yes, poor gentleman, he took to his bed as soon as he
heard of it.
Mr. H. Heard of what?
Stew. The bad news, sir, and please your Honor.
Mr. H. What! more miseries! more bad news?
Stew. Yes, sir, your bank has failed, and your credit is lost,
and you are not worth a shilling in the world. I made bold, sir,
to come to wait on you about it, for I thought you would like to
hear the news.
Anonymous.

CCCLXXXI.

THE CHOLERIC father.

CAPT. ABSOLUTE--SIR ANTHONY

Capt. A. Sir, I am delighted to see you here and looking
so well! Your sudden arrival at Bath made me
apprehensive for your health.
Sir A. Very apprehensive, I dare say, Jack. What, are
you recruiting here, eh?
Capt. A. Yes, sir; I am on duty.
Sir A. Well, Jack! I am glad to see you, though I did not
expect it; for I was going to write to you on a little matter of
business. Jack, I have been considering that I grow old and
infirm, and shall probably not trouble you long.
Capt. A. Pardon me, sir, I never saw you look more strong
and hearty; and I pray fervently that you may continue so.
Sir A. I hope your prayers may be heard, with all my
heart. Well, then, Jack, I have been considering that as I am
so strong and hearty, I may continue to plague you a long time.
Now, Jack, I am sensible that the income of your commission,
and what I have hitherto allowed you, is but a small pittance for
a lad of your spirit.
Capt. A. Sir, you are very good.
Sir A. And it is my wish, while yet I live, to have my boy
make some figure in the world. I have resolved, therefore, to
fix you at once in a noble independence.
Capt. A Sir, your kindness overpowers me. Such generosity
makes the gratitude of reason more lively than the sensation
even of filial affection.
Sir A. I am glad you are so sensible of my attention; and
you shall be master of a large estate in a few weeks.
Capt. A. Let my future life, sir, speak my gratitude. I
cannot express the sense I have of your munificence. Yet, sir,
I presume you would not wish me to quit the army?
Sir A. O, that shall be as your wife chooses.
Capt. A. My wife, sir?
Sir A. Ay, ay, settle that between you--settle that between
you.
Capt. A. A wife, sir, did you say?
Sir A. Ay, a wife--why did I not mention her before?
Capt A. Not a word of her, sir.
Sir A. Upon my word, I must n't forget her, though! Yes,
Jack, the independence I was talking of is by a marriage--the
fortune is saddled with a wife; but I suppose that makes no
difference?
Capt. A. Sir! sir, you amaze me!
Sir A. What 's the matter? Just now you were all gratitude
and duty.
Capt. A. I was, sir; you talked to me of independence and
a fortune, but not one word of a wife.
Sir A. Why, what difference does that make? Sir, if you
have the estate, you must take it with the live stock on it, as it
stands.
Capt. A. If my happiness is to be the price, I must beg leave
to decline the purchase. Pray, sir, who is the lady?
Sir A. What 's that to you, sir? Come, give me your promise
to love, and to marry her directly.
Capt. A. Sure, sir, that 's not very reasonable, to summon
my affections for a lady I know nothing of!
Sir A. I am sure, sir, 't is more unreasonable in you to object
to a lady you know nothing of.
Capt. A. You must excuse me, sir, if I tell you, once for all,
that on this point I cannot obey you.
Sir A. Hark you, Jack! I have heard you for some time
with patience; I have been cool,--quite cool; but take care;
you know I am compliance itself, when I am not thwarted; no
one more easily led--when I have my own way; but don't put
me in a frenzy.
Capt. A. Sir, I must repeat it; in this I cannot obey you.
Sir A. Now, shoot me, if ever I call you Jack again while
I live!
Capt. A. Nay, sir, but hear me.
Sir A. Sir, U won't hear a word--not a word!--not one
word!--So, give me your promise by a nod; and I 'll tell you
what, Jack,--I mean, you dog,--if you don't--
Capt. A. What, sir, promise to link myself to some mass of
ugliness; to--
Sir A. Sir, the lady shall be as ugly as I choose; she shall
have a hump on each shoulder; she shall be as crooked as the
crescent; her one eye shall roll like the bull's in Cox's Museum;
she shall leave a skin like a mumps and the beard of a Jew;
he shall be all this, sir! Yet, I'll make you ogle her all day,
and sit up all night to write sonnets on her beauty!
Capt. A. This is reason and moderation, indeed!
Sir A. None of your sneering, puppy! no grinning, jackanapes!
Capt. A. Indeed, sir, I never was in a worse humor for mirth
in my life.
Sir A. 'T is false, sir! I know you are laughing in your
sleeve. I know you'll grin when I am gone, sir!
Capt. A. Sir, I hope I know my duty better.
Sir A. None of your passion, sir! none of your violence, if,
you please! It won't do with me, I promise you.
Capt. A. Indeed, sir, I never was cooler in my life.
Sir A. I know you are in a passion in your heart; I know
you are, you hypocritical young dog! But it won't do!
Capt. A. Nay, sir, upon my word
Sir A. So you will fly out! Can't you be cool like me?
What good can passion do? Passion is of no service, you impudent,
insolent, overbearing reprobate! There, you sneer again!
Don't provoke me! But you rely upon the mildness of my
temper, you do, you dog! You play upon the meekness of my
disposition! Yet, take care; the patience of a saint may be
overcome at last! But, mark: I give you six hours and a half
to consider of this: if you then agree without any condition, to
do everything on earth that I choose, why, I may, in time, forgive
you. lf not, don't enter the same hemisphere with me; don't
care to breathe the same air, or use the same light, with me;
but get an atmosphere and a sun of your own! I'll strip you
of your commission; I'll lodge a five-and-three-pence in the
hands of trustees, and you shall live on the interest! I'll disown
you. I'll disinherit you! I'll never call you Jack again.
[Exit.]
Capt. A. Mild, gentle, considerate father!
I kiss your hand.
R. B. Sheridan.

CCCLXXXII.

ROLLA AND ALONZO.

[ENTER ROLLA DISGUISED AS A MONK.]

Rolla. Inform me, friend, is Alonzo, the Peruvian,
confined in this dungeon?
Sentinel. He is.
Rolla. I must speak with him.
Sentinel. You must not.
Rolla. He is my friend.
Sentinel. Not if he were your brother.
Rolla. What is to be his fate?
Sentinel. He dies at sunrise.
Rolla. Ha! then I am come in time,
Sentinel. Just to witness his death.
Rolla. [Advancing toward the door.] Soldier, I must speak
with him.
Sentinel. [Pushing him back with his gun.] Back! Back!
it is impossible.
Rolla. I do entreat you, but for one moment.
Sentinel. You entreat in vain, my orders are most strict.
Rolla. Look on this massive wedge of gold! look on these
precious gems! In thy land they will be wealth for thee and
thine, beyond thy hope or wish. Take them; they are thine;
let me but pass one moment with Alonzo.
Sentinel. Away! Wouldest thou corrupt me?--me, an old
Castilian! I know my duty better.
Rolla. Soldier, hast thou a wife?
Sentinel. I have.
Rolla. Hast thou children?
Sentinel. Four honest, lovely boys.
Rolla. Where didst thou leave them?
Sentinel. In my native village, in the very cot where I was
born.
Rolla. Dost thou love thy wife and children?
Rolla. Do I love them? God knows my heart,--I do.
Rolla. Soldier, imagine thou wert doomed to die a cruel
death, in a strange land,--what would be thy last request?
Sentinel. That some of my comrades should carry my dying
blessing to my wife and children.
Rolla. What if that comrade was at thy prison door, and
should there be told, "Thy fellow-soldier dies at sunrise, yet
thou shalt not for a moment see him, nor shalt thou bear his
dying blessing to his poor children, or his wretched wife!"--
What would'st thou think of him who thus could drive thy comrade
from the door?
Sentinel. How!
Rolla. Alonzo has a wife and child; and I am come but to
receive for her, and for her poor babes the last blessing of my
friend.
Sentinel. Go in. [Exit sentinel.]
Rolla. [ Calls] Alonzo! Alonzo!
[Enter Alonzo, speaking as he comes in.]
Alonzo. How! is my hour elapsed? Well, I am ready.
Rolla Alonzo--Know me!
Alonzo. Rolla! Heavens! how didst thou pass the guard?
Rolla. There is not a moment to be lost in words. This disguise
I tore from the dead body of a friar, as I passed our field
of battle. It has gained me entrance to thy dungeon; now take
it thou, and fly.
Alonzo And Rolla,--
Rolla. Will remain here in thy place.
Alonzo. And die for me! No! Rather eternal torture rack
me.
Rolla. I shall not die, Alonzo. It is thy life Pizarro seeks,
not Rolla's; and thy arm may soon deliver me from prison. Or,
should it be otherwise, I am as a blighted tree in the desert;
nothing lives beneath my shelter. Thou art a husband and a
father; the being of a lovely wife and helpless infant depend
upon thy life. Go, go, along, not to save thyself but Cora
and thy child.
Alonzo. Urge me not thus, my friend. I am prepared to
die in peace.
Rolla. To die in peace! devoting her you have sworn to live
for to madness, misery, and death!
Alonzo. Merciful Heavens!
Rolla. If thou art yet irresolute, Alonzo,--now mark me
well. Thou knowest that Rolla never pledged his word, and
shrank from its fulfilment. And here I swear, if thou art proudly
obstinate, thou shalt have the desperate triumph of seeing Rolla
perish by thy side.
Alonzo. O, Rolla! you distract me! Wear you the robe
and though dreadful the necessity we will strike down the guard
and force our passage.
Rolla. What, the soldier on duty here?
Alonzo Yes,--else, seeing two, the alarm will be instant
death.
Rolla. For my nation's safety, I would not harm him. That
soldier, mark me, is a man! All are not men that wear the
human form. He refused my prayers, refused my gold, refused
to admit, till his own feelings bribed him. I will not risk a
hair of that man's head, to save my heartstrings from consuming
fire But haste! A moment's further pause, and all is lost.
Alonzo Rolla, I fear thy friendship drives me from honor
and from right..
Rolla. Did Rolla ever counsel dishonor to his friend?
[ Throwing the friar's garment over his shoulder.] There! conceal
thy face. Now, God be with thee!
Kotzebue.

CCCLXXXIII.

THE ENGLISH TRAVELLER.

Traveller. Do you belong to this house, friend?
Landlord. No, it belongs to me, I guess. [ The Traveller
takes out his memorandum-book, and in a low voice reads
what he writes.]
Trav. "Mem. Yankee landlords do not belong to their
house's [Aloud] You seem young for a landlord: may I ask
how old you are?
Land. Yes, if you'd like to know.
Trav. Hem! [Disconcerted.] Are you a native, sir?
Land. No, sir; there are no natives hereabouts.
Trav. "Mem. None of the inhabitants natives; ergo, all
foreigners." [Aloud] Where were you born, sir?
Land. Do you know where Marblehead is?
Trav. Yes.
Land. Well, I was not born there.
Trav. Why did you ask the question, then?
Land. Because my daddy was.
Trav. But you were born somewhere.
Land. That 's true; but as father moved up country afore
the townships were marked out, my case is somewhat like the
Indian's who was born at Nantucket, Cape Cod, and all along
shore.
Trav. Were you brought up in this place, sir?
Land. No; I was raised in Varmount till mother died, and
then, as father was good for nothing after that I pulled up stakes
and went to sea a bit.
Trav. "Mem. Yankees, instead of putting up gravestones,
pull up stakes, and go to sea, when a parent dies" [Aloud]
You did not follow the sea long, for you have not the air of a
mariner.
Land. why, you see, I had a leetle knack at the coopering
business; and larning that them folks that carry it on in the
West Indies die off fast, I calculated I should stand a chance to
get a handsome living there.
Trav. And so you turned sailor to get there?
Land. Not exactly; for I agreed to work my passage by
cooking for the crew, and tending the dumb critters.
Trav. Dumb critters! Of what was your lading composed?
Land. A leetle of everything;--horses, hogs, hoop-poles,
and Hingham boxes; boards, ingyons, soap, candles, and ile.
Trav. "Mem. Soap, candles, and ile, called dumb critters
by the Yankees." [Aloud.] Did you arrive there safely?
Land. No, I guess we did n't.
Trav. Why not?
Land. We had a fair wind, and sailed a pretty piece, I tell
you; but jest afore we reached the eend of our vige, some
pirates overhauled us, and stole all our molasses, rum, and
gingerbread.
Trav. Is that all they did to you?
Land. No, they ordered us on board their vessel, and promised
us some black-strap.
Trav. "Mem. Pirates catch Yankees with a black-strap."
[Aloud] Did you accept the invitation?
Land. No, I guess we did n't. And so they threatened to
fire into us.
Trav. What did your captain do?
Land. "Fire, and be dammed!" says he, "but you'd better
not spill the deacon's ile, I tell you."
Trav. And so you ran off, did you?
Land. No; we sailed off a small piece. But the captain
said it was a tarnal shame to let them steal our necessaries; and
so he right about, and peppered them, I tell you.
Trav. "Mem. Yankees pepper pirates when they meet
them." [Aloud.] Did you take them?
Land. Yes, and my shear built this house.
Trav. "Mem. Yankees build houses with shears."
Land. It 's an ill wind that blows nowhere, as the saying is.
And now, may I make so bold as to ask whose name I shall
enter in my books?
Trav. Mine!
Land. Hem!--if it 's not an impertinent question, may I
ask which way you are travelling?
Trav. Home.
Land. Faith! have I not as good a right to catechize you,
as you had to catechize me?
Trav. Yes. "Mem. Yankees the most inquisitive people
in the world,--impertinent, and unwilling to communicate
information to travellers." [Aloud] Well, sir, if you have
accommodations fit for a gentleman, I will put up with you.
Land. They have always suited gentlemen, but I can't say
how you'll like 'em.
Trav. There is a tolerable prospect from this window. What
hill is that, yonder?
Land. Bunker Hill, sir.
Trav. Pretty hill! If I had my instruments here, I should
like to take it.
Land. You had better not try. It required three thousand
instruments to take it in '75.
Tram "Mem. A common Yankee hill cannot be drawn
without three thousand instruments." [Aloud] Faith, Landlord,
your Yankee draughtsmen must be great bunglers. But
come, sir, give me breakfast, for I must be going; There is nothing
else in the vicinity worthy the notice of a traveller.
Anon.

CCCLXXXIV.

THE EMBRYO LAWYER.

OLD FICKLE--TRISTAM FICKLE.

Old F. What reputation, what honor, what profit can
accrue to you from such conduct as yours? One moment
you tell me you are going to become the greatest musician
in the world, and straight you fill my house with fiddlers.
Tri. I am clear out of that scrape now, sir.
Old F. Then from a fiddler you are metamorphosed into a
philosopher; and for the noise of drums, trumpets, and hautboys,
you substitute a vile jargon, more unintelligible than was
ever heard at the tower of Babel.
Tri. You are right, sir, I have found out that philosophy is
folly; so, I have cut the philosophers of all sects, from Plato and
Aristotle down to the puzzlers of modern date.
Old F. How much had I to pay the cooper, the other day,
for barreling you up in a large tub, when you resolved to live
like Diogenes?
Tri. You should not have paid him anything, sir, for the tub
would not hold. You see the contents are run out.
Old F. No jesting, sir; this is no laughing matter. Your
follies have tired me out. I verily believe you have taken the
whole round of arts and science in a month, and have been of
fifty different minds in half an hour.
Tri. And, by that, shown the versatility of my genius.
Old F. Don't tell me of versatility, sir. Let me see a little
steadiness. You have never yet been constant to anything but
extravagance.
Tri. Yes, sir, one thing more.
Old F. What is that, sir.
Tri. Affection for you. However my head may have wandered,
my heart has always been constantly attached to the kindest
of parents; and, from this moment, I am resolved to lay my
follies aside, and pursue that line of conduct which will be most
pleasing to the best of fathers and of friends.
Old F. Well said, my boy,--well said! You make me
happy indeed. [patting him on the shoulder] Now, then, my
dear Tristram, let me know what you really mean to do.
Tri. To study the law.
Old F. The law!
Tri. I am most resolutely bent on following that profession.
Old F. No!
Tri. Absolutely and irrevocably fixed.
Old F. Better and better. I am overjoyed. Why, 't is the
very thing I wished. Now I am happy. [ Tristram makes gestures
as if speaking.] See how his mind is engaged!
Tri, Gentlemen of the jury,--
Old F. Why Tristram,--
Tri. This is a cause,--
Old F. O, my dear boy! I forgive you all your tricks. I
see something about you, now, that I can depend upon. [ Tristram
continues making gestures.]
Tri. I am for the plaintiff in this cause,--
Old F. Bravo! bravo! excellent boy! I'll go and order
your books directly.
Tri. It is done sir.
Old F. What, already!
Tri. I ordered twelve square feet of books when I first
thought of embracing the arduous profession of the law.
Old F. What, do you mean to read by the foot?
Tri. By the foot, sir; that is the only way to become a solid
lawyer.
Old F. Twelve square feet of learning! Well,--
Tri. I have likewise sent for a barber,
Old F. What, is he to teach you to shave close?
Tri. He is to shave one half of my head, sir.
Old F. You will excuse me if I cannot perfectly understand
what that has to do with the study of the law.
Tri. Did you never hear of Demosthenes, sir, the Athenian
orator? He had half his head shaved, and locked himself up in
a coal-cellar.
Old F. Ah! he was perfectly right to lock himself up after
having undergone such an operation as that. He certainly
would have made rather an odd figure abroad.
Tri. I think I see him now, awaking the dormant patriotism
of his countrymen,--lightning in his eye, and thunder in his
voice: he pours forth a torrent of eloquence, resistless in its
force--the throne of Philip trembles while he speaks; he denounces,
and indignation fills the bosom of his hearers; he
exposes the impending danger, and every one sees impending
ruin; he threatens the tyrant,--they grasp their swords; he
calls for vengeance, their thirsty weapons glitter in the air,
and thousands reverberate the cry. One soul animates the nation,
and that soul is the soul of the orator.
Old F. O! what a figure he'll make in the King's Bench!
But, come, I will tell you now what my plan is, and then you
will see how happily this determination of yours will further it.
You have [ Tristram makes extravagant gestures, as if speaking,]
often heard me speak of my friend Briefwit, the barrister,--
Tri. Who is against me in this cause?--
Old F. He is a most learned lawyer,--
Tri. But as I have justice on my side,--
Old F. Zounds! he does n't hear a word I say! Why,
Tristram!
Tri. I beg your pardon, sir, I was prosecuting my studies.
Old F. Now, attend,--
Tri. As my learned friend observes,--Go on, sir, I am all
attention.
Old F. Well, my friend the counselor,--
Tri. Say learned friend, if you please, sir. We gentlemen
of the law always,--
Old F. Well, well,--my learned friend,--
Tri. A black patch!
Old F. Will you listen, and be silent?
Tri. I am as mute as a judge.
Old F. My friend, I say, has a ward, who is very handsome,
and who has a very handsome fortune. She would make you
a charming wife.
Tri. This is an action,
Old F. Now, I have hitherto been afraid to introduce you
to my friend, the barrister, because I thought your lightness and
his gravity,--
Tri. Might be plaintiff and defendant.
Old F. But now you are growing serious and steady, and
have resolved to pursue his profession, I will shortly bring you
together; you will obtain his good opinion, and all the rest follows
of course.
Tri. A verdict in my favor.
Old F. You marry and sit down, happy for life.
Tri. In the King's Bench.
Old F. Bravo! Ha, ha, ha! But now run to your study,
--run to your study, my dear Tristram, and I'll go and call
upon the counsellor.
Tri. I remove by habeas corpus.
Old F. Pray have the goodness to make haste, then.
[Hurrying him off.]
Tri. Gentlemen of the jury this is a cause. [Exit.]
Old F. The inimitable boy! I am now the happiest father
living. What genius he has! He'll be Lord Chancellor one
day or other, I dare be sworn. I am sure he has talents! O!
how I long to see him at the bar!
Allingham.

NOTES.

Page No.

3. I. BROUGHAM, (broom,) HENRY, Lord, philosopher, law-reformer, statesman, orator, and critic, was born in 1779, at Edinburgh, where he was educated at the High School and University. He united with Jeffrey and Horner in establishing the "Edinburgh Review," and for nearly twenty years he was one of its most regular contributors. Having for a few years practised law at the Scottish bar, he removed to England in 1807, and entered Parliament in 1810. His long parliamentary career has been characterized as one of desultory warfare. "A great part of his life has been spent in beating down; in detecting false pretensions whether in literature or politics; in searching out the abuses of long-established institutions; in laying open the perversions of public charities; in exposing the cruelties of the criminal code; or in rousing public attention to a world of evils resulting from the irregularities in the administration of municipal law." The character of his eloquence is well suited to the purposes of an assailant. "For fierce, vengeful, and irresistible assault," says John Foster, "Brougham stands the foremost man in all the world." This extract is taken from his Inaugural Discourse as Lord Rector of the university of Glasgow delivered in 1825.

4. II. RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN was born at Dublin, September, 1751. His father was Thomas Sheridan, author of a Pronouncing Dictionary, and a distinguished teacher of elocution. His career was brilliant and successful, both as a dramatist and an orator. He entered Parliament in 1780 where his first speech was a failure; and when told, at its close, by one of his disappointed friends, that he had better have stuck to his former pursuit of writing plays, he rested his head on his hand for some minutes, and then exclaimed with vehemence, "It is in me, and it shall come out of me!" And so it did. Of his speech against Hastings, on the charge of the Begums, Mr. Pitt said, "an abler speech was perhaps never delivered;" and Mr. Fox characterized it as "the greatest that had been delivered within the memory of man." But his convivial habits betrayed him into gross intemperance, and he became bankrupt in character and health, as well as in fortune, and died on the 7th of July, 1816, at the age of sixty-four, a melancholy example of brilliant talents sacrificed to a love of display and sensual indulgence.

4. II. This is a very useful piece for practice, on account of the excellent illustrations of emphasis and inflections which it affords. The third paragraph is a fine example of the circumflex slides.

5. III. From the speech on the Begum Charge, before the House of Lords, sitting as a High Court of Parliament, June, 1788, and, said to be the most graphic and powerful description to be found in the speeches of Sheridan.

--Oude, (ood.): Begums, Hindoo Princesses. --Zenana. (ze-náh-nah): that part of a house in India particularly reserved for women.

6. IV. THOMAS SMITH GRIMKE was born in Charleston S. C., September 26, 1786. He was a descendant of the Huguenots. In the days of Nullification he supported the General Government. He was an eloquent advocate of the Union, and in a Fourth of July Oration at Charleston, in 1809, he graphically depicts the horrors of civil war, which must follow disunion. He died on the 12th of Octobers 1834.

8. V. Lycian (lí-she-an ): Achæan ( a-kee'-an): Hanseatic (han-se-at'-ic), from Hance (hän-seh), a German word signifying "association for mutual support." Hamburg, Lubeck, Bremen, and Frankfort, constitute the present free Hanseatic cities.

12. VIII. CHAUNCEY A. GOODRICH Occupied the chair of Rhetoric and Oratory in Yale College, from 1817 until 1839, when he was transferred to that of Pastoral Theology, which he filled for more than twenty years. His chief literary works are his "Collection of Select British Eloquence," an excellent book, and his revised and enlarged edition of "Webster's Dictionary." Mr. Webster's argument in the Dartmouth College case, was delivered in 1818 and Professor Goodrich says that he went to Washington chiefly for the sake of hearing it.

14. IX. JOSHUA QUINCY was born in 1772 and graduated at Harvard College in 1790. He was in Congress from 1805 until 1813; mayor of Boston for six years, and President of Harvard from 1829 until 1845. He died July 1, 1864. This extract is from his Centennial Address on the Two Hundredth Anniversary of the Settlement of Boston, delivered in 1830.

16 X. Bon Homme Richard: (bo nom ree'-shar'') Guerriére: (ghér-re-air'').

17. XI. WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING, grandson of William Ellery, one of the signers of the Declaration, was born at Newport, R. I., April 7, 1780. In 1798, he was graduated at Harvard, with the highest honors. For nearly forty years he was pastor of the Federal Street Church in Boston. The collection of his Works embraces six volumes. He was one of the most eloquent of American divines, and he wrote largely on war, temperance, slavery, and education. He died October 2, 1842.

22. XIV. Tyrol (tyr'-ol): Innspruk (inns'-prook): Scheldt (skelt).

23. XV. THOMAS FRANCIS MEAGHER, an Irish patriot and orator. At present a general in the United States Army, and a stanch friend of the Union.

25. XVII. HENRY GRATTAN, born at Dublin, July 3, 1746; died May 14, 1820. He was the greatest of Irish patriots, and the greatest of Irish orators. His forte was reasoning, but it was "logic on fire." A distinguished writer described his eloquence as a "combination of cloud, whirlwind, and flame." His style was elaborated with great care. His language is select, and his periods are easy and fluent.

27. XVIII. RUFUS CHOATE was born at Ipswich, Mass., October 1, 1799, graduated at Dartmouth College, with the highest honors, in 1819, and died at Halifax, while on his way to Europe, July 13, 1859. Gifted with the most brilliant intellectual powers, he was ever a hard student. Mr. Everett says of him, "With such gifts, such attainments, and such a spirit, he placed himself, as a matter of course, not merely at the head of the jurists and advocates, but of the public speakers of the country." His most famous oration is his Eulogy on Daniel Webster, delivered at Dartmouth College. Mr. Choate's works have been edited, and an admirable Memoir of his Life written, by Professor Samuel G. Brown, the whole being published in two octavo volumes.

29. XX. Boëthius ( bo-e'-thi-us). --Sibyl (sib' il ).

30 XXI. From a Lecture on the Eloquence of Revolutionary Periods, delivered in Boston, February 1857.

33. XXIII. gobelin (gob'-e-lin): Pericles ( per'-i-cles).

37. XXVII. MRS. LYDIA MARIA CHILD, whose maiden name was FRANCIS, was born in Massachusetts, but passed a portion of her earlier years in Maine. Her literary productions are numerous and are characterized by vigor and originality of thought. She has been very prominent in the anti-slavery movement. A work on the subject of slaverey, published by her in 1833, produced a great sensation. This selection is from The Rebels, a tale of the Revolution, which was published in 1825, when she was quite young.

41. XXX. PATRICK HENRY. This distinguished "orator of nature" was born in Virginia, May 29, 1736. He was a member of the first Congress, which met in Carpenter's Hall, at Philadelphia, on the 4th of September, 1774. For several years he was governor of Virginia and for more than thirty years he stood among the foremost of American patriots and statesmen. He was one of the earliest and most powerful opponents of British power. In 1765, as member of the House of Burgesses, he introduced his famous resolutions against the Stamp Act, which proved the opening of the American Revolution in the colony of Virginia. He died on the 6th of June, 1799. His life has been written by William Wirt. This speech was delivered about one month before the battle of Lexington, so that his prophecy, "The next gale," &c. was almost literally fulfilled.

44. XXXIII, Præsidium ( pre-sid'-i-um): a guard. -Puéblo ( pwa'-blo ): a village. ---ranch: a hut, or collection of huts; a farming establishment. ---Tehuauntepec (ta-huán-te-pec).

46. XXXIV. REV. ROBERT HALL, an eminent Baptist minister, was born at Arnsby, England, August, 1764, and died at Bristols, on the 21st of February, 1831. His writings, which have been published in six volumes, are highly finished in style, and display a remarkable combination of logical precision, metaphysical acuteness, practical sense and sagacity, with a rich luxuriance of imagination, and all the graces of composition. Dr. Parr says of him--"He has, like Jeremy Taylor, the eloquence of an orator, the fancy of a poet the subtlety of a schoolman, the profoundness of a philosopher, and the piety of a saint."

47. XXXV. JOSEPH STORY was born at Marblehead, Mass., September 18, 1779. In 1810 he was appointed by President Madison Associate Justice of the Supreme Court, and in 1829, he was made Professor of the Dane Law School, which office he held until his death, September 10th, 1845. He was an eminent jurist, an eloquent orator, and a finished scholar.

--Siloa: the metre here requires the accent on the first syllable (sil'-o-a, ) though most authorities make it (sil-ó'-a.).

52. XXXIX. REV. ELIJAH KELLOGG, a clergyman in Boston. He wrote this piece especially for declamation. This copy is a recent revision by the author for Hillard's Reader.

54. XL. From a speech delivered in the House of Representatives of the United States, January 8, 1847.

56. XLI. From an oration delivered at the seat of Government, on the occasion of laying the corner-stone of the National Monument to Washington, July 4, 1848.

70. LIII. FISHER AMES was born at Dedham, Mass., April 9th, 1758, where he died, July 4th, 1808 He was a member of the first Congress under the Constitution, in which body he remained eight years. In 1804, he was tendered the Presidency of Harvard College, which he declined.. He was an excellent classical scholar and an accumplished orator. His speech on Jay's Treaty, from which this extract is taken is a production of the deepest pathos and richest eloquence. Webster is said to have committed the whole speech to memory in early life.

92. LXIX. Brougham's career, though brilliant, has been marked by the most extraordinary inconsistencies and contradictions, and now, at the age of eighty-five, forgetting his brave denunciation of slavery, he takes sides with a wicked rebellion, which was set on foot for the establishment of an empire based on slavery.

97. LXXIII. RICHARD LALOR SHIEL was born in Ireland, August 17, 1791 and died in Italy, May 23, 1857. He entered Parliament in 1830, and at the time of his death, he was Minister at the Court of Tuscany. For bold, impassioned declamation, this extract has seldom been equalled.

--STRAFFORD, EARL, whose family name was Wentworth. Rene gade, because having at first resisted the arbitrary power of Charles the First, he afterwards became so obnoxious to the people by his own exercise of arbitrary power that he was impeached of high treason and executed.

--one man of great abilities: LORD LYNDHURST, who was born in Boston, Mass., May 21, 1772. He was the son of the eminent portrait and historical painter, John Singleton Copley.

68.--Assaye (as-si'), a small town in Hindostan, where the Duke of Wellington commenced his career of victory in a battle fought September 23, 1803.

98. LXXIII. Waterloo: (waw'-ter-loo,) battle of, June 18, 1815.

--Vimeira: (ve-ma-e-rah,) a town in Portugal, where the Duke of Wellington defeated the French, August 21, 1808.

--Badajos: (bad-ah-hoce') a town in Spain, taken from the French by the Duke of Wellington, April 6, 1812.

--Salamanca: (sah-lah-mang'-kah) a city in Spain near which the English, under Wellington totally defeated the French, under Marmont and Clusel, July 22, 1812,

--Albuera: (al-boo-a'-rah ) a town in Spain where the British and allies gained a victory over the French, May 16, 1811.

--Toulouse: (too-looz') a city in France, where Wellington defeated the French under Soult, April 10, 1814.

99. LXXIV. FRANCIS WAYLAND, President of Brown University from 1827 until 1856, was born at New York, March 11. 1796. 111. LXXXIII. Edward Everett was born at Dorchester Mass., April 11, 1794, took his degree at Harvard College in 1811, and was settled over the church in Brattle Street, Boston, in 1813. In 1815, he was appointed Professor of Greek Literature in Harvard College, and he devoted the four succeeding years to study and travel in Europe, with the view to further qualify himself for its duties, which he assumed in 1819, with those of editor of the "North American Review." Both these positions he held till 1825 when his took his seat in Congress as Representative from Middlesex County, which he held for ten years. He was Governor of Massachusetts from 1836 until 1840. In 1841 he was appointed Minister Plenipotentiary to the Court of St. James and on his return home in 1846, was elected President of Harvard College, which position he resigned in 1849. He succeeded Mr. Webster as Secretary of State, in 1852, and in 1853 was chosen to the Senate of the United States, but soon resigned on account of ill health. Edward Everett is the most accomplished orator in this country, and he may justly be styled the Cicero of America. His splendid oration pronounced August 26, 1824, at Cambridge, before the Society of Phi Beta Kappa, closing with the beautiful apostrophe to Lafayette, who was present, placed him before the public as one of the greatest and most accomplished orators who had ever appeared in America. The reputation then achieved by him has been steadily advancing for forty years. On the breaking out of the rebellion, he at once came out boldly in support of the Government and the constitution, and during the struggle thus far, his matchless pen, his eloquent voice, and his great personal influence have been employed, on all proper occasions, in maintaining the cause of his country. Three large octavo volumes of his orations and occasional speeches have been published constituting a body of eloquence and learning, which has been surpassed by no other orator in the language.

111--From an oration delivered at Plymouth, on the anniversary of the landing of the Pilgrims: 22d of December, 1824.

114. LXXXVI. From an oration delivered at Bloody Brook, in South Deerfield, Mass., September 30, 1835, in commemoration of the fall of the "Flower of Essex," at that spot, in King Philip's war, September 18, ( O. S.) 1675.

114. LXXXVI. Mount Hope: a beautiful eminence of Bristol County, R. I., on the west shore of Mount Hope Bay.

118. LXXXVIII. Nevada, (na-vah'-dah): Antilles, (an-teel'): Archipelagoes, (ar-ke-pel'-a-goze).

120 XC. From a eulogy delivered at Boston, September 17, 1850, on the occasion of the inauguration of the statue of Daniel Webster which stands in front of the State House.

121.--Condé (con-da'): Rocroi, (ro-kroi'): Arbela, (ar-bee'-lah).

123. XCII. JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN was born at Nermarket, in the county of Cork, Ireland, July 24, 1750, and died at London, October 14, 1817. His voice was naturally bad, and his articulation so hasty and confused that he went among his school fellows by the name of "Stuttering Jack Curran." His manner was awkward his gesture constrained and meaningless and his whole appearance calculated only to produce laughter, notwithstanding the evidence he gave of superior abilities. All these faults he overcame by severe and patient labor. One of his biographers says,--"His oratorical training was as severe as any Greek ever underwent." Constantly on the watch against bad habits, he practised daily before a glass, reciting passages from Shakespeare, Junius, and the best English orators. He became the most eloquent of all irish advocates, and for more than twenty years he had an unrivalled mastery of the Irish bar. He was member of the Irish House of Commons from 1783 to 1797. In 1806, he was made Master of the Rolls, which office he resigned in 1814.

127 XCV. CHARLES JAMES FOX was born on the 24 th of January, 1749; was educated at Eton College and Oxford University. He was fond of the classics and took up Demosthenes as he did the speeches of Lord Chatham. As an orator he was much indebted to the study of the Greek writers, for the simplicity of his tastes, his entire abstinence from everthing like mere ornament, the terseness of his style, the point and stringency of his reasonings, and the all-pervading cast of intellect which distinguishes his speeches even in the most vehement bursts of impassioned feeling. But his tastes were too exclusively literary. He could discuss Greek metres with Porson, but he had little acquaintance with the foundations of jurisprudence, or the laws of trade; and he always felt the want of an early training in scientific investigation, correspondent to that he re ceived in classical literature. He took his seat in Parliament in 1768. He was the first man in the House of Commons, who took the ground of denying the right of Parliament to tax the colonies without their consent, and he went on identifying himself more and more to the end of life with the popular part of the Constitution, and with the cause of free principles throughout the world, aiming always amid all the conflicts of party "to widen the base of freedom,--to infuse and circulate the spirit of liberty." He made it a point to speak on every question that came up, whether interested in it or not, as a means of exercising and training his faculties, for he was bent on making himself a powerful debater. His love of argument was perhaps the most striking trait of his character, and "he rose," said Mr. Burke, "by slow degrees to be the most brilliant and accomplished debater the world ever saw." There was nothing strained or unnatural in his most vehement bursts of passion, "his feeling," says Coleridge, "was all intellect, and his intellect was all feeling." In his language, Mr. Fox studied simplicity, strength, and boldness. "Give me an elegant Latin and a homely Saxon word," says he, "and I will always choose the latter." He died on the 13th September, 1806, and was buried with the highest honors of the nation, in Westminster Abbey.

127. XCV. This extract is from his speech on the rejection of Bonaparte's overtures for peace which was delivered February 3d, 1800 and was considered by most who heard it as the ablest speech he ever made. This selection is a fine illustration of the use of the circumflex slides.

---Suwarrow: a Russian general. Praga: (prah'-gah).

129. XCVI. Utrecht, (yoo'-trekt): Blenheim, (blen'-hime).

131. XCVIII. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS, son of John Adams, the second President, was born at Braintree, Mass., on the 11th of July, 1767. He took his degree at Harvard College in 1787, a year after his admission, having been prepared for an advanced class, in Europe, where he had previously resided for several years. He studied law with Theophilus Parsons. at Newburyport, and commenced practice in 1790. He was a member of the Senate of the United States from 1803 until 1808. In 1806 he was appointed Boylston Professor of Rhetoric in Harvard College, which office he held for three years. In 1810 he was appointed Minister to Russia, where he remained until 1815, when with other Commissioners he negotiated the treaty of peace with England at Ghent, and was appointed Minister to that country in the same year, a post which his father had occupied before him, and which is now so ably filled by his son, Charles Francis. He served as Secretary of State during the administration of Monroe, whom he succeeded in the Presidency. On his retirement from the Chief Magistracy, he was elected to represent his native district in the House of Representatives, until his death, which occurred the 23d of February, 1848. His career as a member of the House was distinguished for his fearless and uncompromising defence of the right of petition, and for his bold and effective opposition to the usurpation of the slave power.

133. XCIX. Gracchi: (grak'-ki) two distinguished Romans, sons of Cornelia.

135. CI. JOSEPH WARREN, the first great martyr in the cause of independence, was born at Roxbury, Mass., June 11th, 1741, and was killed at the battle of Bunker Hill, June 17, 1775. General Warren acted as a volunteer at the battle of Bunker Hill, serving as a private in the ranks in the redoubt having borrowed a musket from a sergeant. When urged against hazarding his life on that day, be replied enthusiastically,--"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori."