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enchantment dwells, and prompts him, at every step, to pause and admire the beauties of the scene.

Elocutionists agree in assigning a special arrangement of modulation to certain forms of stanza-the Couplet, Triplet, and Quatrain or Quadruplet.

The Couplet is that form in which every successive couple of verses rhyme; the former of which verses generally takes the rising, and the latter the falling, unless prevented by the superior claim of the Seven Principles.

"Remòte from cíties lived a swáin,

Unvex'd with all the cares of gàin;
His head was silver'd o'er with age,
And lòng expérience made him sage.

*

A deep philosopher (whōse rules

Of moral life were drawn from schools),
The shepherd's hòmely cottage sought,
And thùs explored his reach of thought.
Whence is thy learning? Háth thy tòil
O'er books consumed the midnight oil?
Hast thou old Greèce and Ròme survéy'd,
And the vást sènse of Pláto weigh'd?"

The Triplet is that form of stanza in which every three successive verses rhyme; the first of which generally takes the monotone, the second the rising inflection, and the last the falling, unless some general rule interferes.

"Nōw night's dim shādes agàin involve the sky; Agáin the wanderers wánt a place to líe; Again they search, and find a lodging nigh."

"Is he a chúrchman? Then he's fond of pòwer:
A Quáker?-sly: a Presbytérian ?—soùr:
A smart fréethinker -all things in an hour."

The Quatrain stanza consists of four verses rhyming successively or alternately; of which the first is supposed to take

the monotone, the second and third the rising inflection, and the last the falling, with the same qualification as before.

"Stròng mén and babes alike with unction he did fill ; The scéptic, even, and fórmalist were silenced at his will; All classes sat and listen'd still-they listen'd to admíre, Like spéll-bound subjects at the touch of some wild Orphean lyre."

"Th' applause of listening sēnates to commánd, The threats of pain and rùin to despíse,

To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,

And read their history in a nation's eyes,

Their lót forbade; nor circumscribed alone

Their growing vírtues, but their crímes confìned;
Forbáde to wade through slaughter to a throne,
And shút the gates of mercy on mankind."

Blank Verse is subject to the same general principles as prose, and is distinguished from it only by the fulness and continuance of tone peculiar to poetry. As an exercise in Blank Verse, exemplifying the Seven General Principles, the reader may take

HYMN TO THE DEITY ON THE SEASONS OF

THE YEAR.

"Thése, as they change, Almighty Fáther, these
Are but the varied God. The rolling year
Is fùll of thee. Fórth in the pleasing Spring
Thy beauty walks, thy tenderness and love.
Wide flush the fièlds; the sòftening áir is bàlm;
Echo the mountains roùnd; the fòrest smíles;
And every sense, and èvery heart is joy.
Then comes thy glōry in the Sùmmer months,
With light and heat refùlgent; then thy sun
Shoots fùll perféction through the swelling year:
And oft thy vòice in dréadful thùnder speaks;
And òft, at dawn, deèp nóon, or fàlling éve,
By brooks and gróves, in hōllow-whispering gàles.

Thy bounty shines in A'utumn unconfined,
And spreads a còmmon féast for all that lives.
In Winter, àwful Thou! with clouds and stōrms
Around thee thrówn; témpest d'er tempest róll'd;
Majèstic dárkness! On the whirlwind's wing
Riding sublíme, thou bid'st the world adóre,
And hùmblest Náture with thy northern blàst.
Mystèrious round; whát skill, whát fòrce divíne,
Dèep félt, in these appear! a simple tráin;
Yet so delightful míx'd, with such kìnd árt,
Such beauty and benèficence combined;
Sháde, unperceived, so sòftening into shade;
And áll so forming an harmònious whole;
That as they still succéed, they ravish stìll.
But, wandering óft, with brúte unconscious gáze,
Mán marks not Thée, màrks not the mighty hánd,
That, èver búsy, wheels the silent sphères;
Works in the secret déep; shoòts, steaming, thence
The fair profùsion that o'erspreads the Spring;
Flíngs from the sun direct the flaming day;
Fèeds every créature; hùrls the tempest fórth:
And, as on earth this grateful change revólves,
With transport toúches all the springs of life.
Náture attend! Jóin, every living sōul
Beneath the spacious temple of the sky,
In adoration jóin; and, árdent, raise
One géneral sòng! To Hím, ye vōcal gāles,
Breathe soft, whose spirit in your freshness breathes;

O talk of Him in sòlitary glóoms!

Where, ò'er the rock, the scarcely wāving pīne
Fills the brown shade with a religious àwe.

And yé, whose bolder note is heard afár,
Who shake th' astónish'd world, lift high to heav'n
Th' impètuous sóng, and say from whom you ràge;
His praise, ye broòks, attúne, ye trèmbling rílls,
And let me cátch it as I muse alòng.

Ye headlong torrents, ràpid and profound,
Ye sòfter floods, that lead the humid maze
Alòng the vále, and thoú, majèstic main,
A sécret world of wonders in thyself,

Sound His stupèndous praise, whose grèater voice,
Or bìds you róar, or bíds your roarings fàll.
Sōft rōll your incense, hérbs, and fruits, and flowers,
In mingled clouds to Hím, whose sùn exálts,
Whose breath perfúmes you, and whose pencil paints.
Ye forests, bènd: ye harvests, wàve to Him,
Breathe your still song into the rèaper's heart,
As hòme he goes beneath the joyous moòn.
Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth asleep
Unconscious líes, effuse your mildest bèams,
Ye constellations, while your angels stríke,
Amid the spangled ský, the silver lỳre.
Great source of day! best image here below
Of thy Creátor, ever pouring wide,

From world to wōrld, the vital òcean round,
On Nature write with èvery béam His pràise.
The thunder ròlls; be hùsh'd the prōstrate wōrld,
While cloud to cloúd returns the solemn hymn.
Bleat out afresh, ye hills: ye mòssy rocks,
Retain the sound: the broad responsive lōw,
Ye valleys, ráise, for the grêat Shepherd reigns,
And His unsùffering kíngdom yet will còme.
Ye woodlands all, awake; a boundless song
Búrst from the gròves; and when the restless dáy,
Expiring, lays the warbling world asléep,
Sweetest of birds! sweèt Philomela, charm
The listening shades, and téach the night His pràise.
Yè chief, for whom the whole creation smíles;
At once the head, the heart, and tòngue of áll;
Crówn the great hymn: in swarming cīties vást,
Assembled men, to the dèep organ join
The long-resounding vòice, oft breaking clear,
At sòlemn páuses, through the swelling bàss ;
And, as each mingling flame increases éach,
In one united árdour rise to heaven.
Or, if you rather choose the rural shade,
And find a fane in every sacred grove;
Thére let the shèpherd's flúte, the virgin's láy,
The prompting séraph, and the poet's lyre,
Still sing the Gòd of Seasons as they ròll.

For me, when I forget the darling theme,
Whether the blossom blows, the Summer ray
Russets the pláin, inspiring Autumn gleams,
Or Winter rises in the blackening east;
Be my tongue mùte, may fáncy paint no more,
And, dèad to joy, forgét my heart to bèat.
Should fáte command me to the farthest verge
Of the green éarth, to distant bàrbarous clímes,
Rivers unknown to sóng; where first the sun
Gilds Indian moúntains, or his setting bèam
Flames on Atlantic ísles; 'tis noùght to mé;
Since God is èver présent, èver félt,

In the void waste as in the city fùll:
And where Hé vìtal bréathes, there múst be jòy.
When even at lást the solemn hour shall cōme,
And wing my mystic flight to fùture worlds,
I chéerful will obey: there with new powers,
Will rísing wonders sìng: I cannot gò,
Where Universal Lōve not smiles around,
Sustaining all yon órbs, and all their súns:
From seeming èvil still educing good,
And better thence again, and better stíll,
In infinite progrèssion.—But I lòse
Myself in Him, in Líght Inèffable!

Còme, thén, exprèssive Sílence, mùse His praise.

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-Thomson.

RHETORICAL ACTION.

Gesture, in order to be impressive, must be natural. That which is natural is generally both graceful in quality and appropriate in kind. If rhetorical action is either awkward in itself or unsuitable to the language, feeling, or circumstances which accompany it, it is alike objectionable. Better never raise the arm, than raise it unseasonably; better never appear in earnest, if not actually so. The action that is not the ebullition of feeling, will always seem out of

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