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that the original scene appeared to be, at that moment, acting before our eyes.

We saw the very

faces of the Jews : the staring, frightful distortions of malice and rage. We saw the buffet: my soul kindled with a flame of indignation; and my hands were involuntarily and convulsively clinched.

But when he came to touch on the patience, the forgive ing meekness of our Savior; when he drew, to the life, his blessed eyes streaming in tears to heaven; his voice breathing to God, a soft and gentle prayer of pardon on his enemies, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do”—the voice of the preacher, which had all along faltered, grew fainter, and fainter, until, his utterance being entirely obstructed by the force of his feelings, he raised his handkerchief to his eyes, and burst into a loud and irrepressible flood of grief. The effect is inconceivable. The whole house resounded with the mingled groans, and sobs, and shrieks of the congregation.

It was some time before the tumult had subsided, so far as to permit him to proceed. Indeed, judging by the usual, but fallacious standard of my own weakness, I began to be very uneasy for the situation of the preacher. For I could not conceive, how he would be able to let his audience down from the height to which he had wound them, without impairing the solemnity and dignity of his subject, or perhaps shocking them by the abruptness of the fall. Butno: the descent was as beautiful and sublime, as the elevation had been rapid and enthusiastic.

The first sentence, with which he broke the awful silence, was a quotation from Rousseau : “ Socrates died like a philosopher, but Jesus Christ, like a God!"

I despair of giving you any idea of the effect produced by this short sentence, unless you could perfectly conceive the whole manner of the man, as well as the peculiar crisis in the discourse. Never before, did I completely understand what Demosthenes meant by laying such stress on delivery. You are to bring before you the venerable figure of the preacher : his blindness, constantly recalling to your recolsection old Homer, Ossian, and Milton, and associating with his performance, the melancholy grandeur of their geniuses; you are to imagine that you hear his slow, solemn, well-accented enunciation, and his voice of affecting, trembling melody: you are to remember the pitch of passion and enthusiasm to which the congregation were raised ; and then,

the few minutes of portentous, deathlike silence which reigned throughout the house: the preacher, removing his white handkerchief from his aged face, (even yet wet from the recent torrent of his tears) and slowly stretching forth the palsied hand which holds it, begins the sentence: “Socrates died like a philosopher"-then pausing, raising his other band, pressing them both, clasped together, with warmth and energy to his breast, lifting his “sightless balls" to heaven, and pouring his whole soul into his tremulous voice_“but Jesus Christ-like a God!" If he had been indeed and in truth an angel of light, the effect could scarcely have been more divine.

LESSON CLXXXII.

Scene from the Tragedy of King John.-SHAKSPEARE.

Prince ARTHUR, HUBERT, and ATTENDANTS.

Scene.-A room in the castle, Northampton.

Enter HUBERT and two ATTENDANTS.

Hubert. Heat me these irons hot; and, look thou stand Within the arras : when I strike

my

foot
Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth,
And bind the boy, which you shall find with me,
Fast to the chair : be heedful: hence, and watch.

1 Attendant. I hope your warrant will bear out the deed. Hub. Uncleanly scruples ! Fear not you : look to't.

[Exeunt Attendants. Young lad, come forth ; I have to

say
with

you.
Enter ARTHUR.
Arthur. Good morrow, Hubert.
Hub.

Good morrow, little prince.
Arth. As little prince (having so great a title
To be more prince,) as may be.

—You are sad.
Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier.
Arth.

Mercy on me :
Methinks nobody should be sad but I:
Yet I remember, when I was in France,
Young gentlemen would be as sad as night,
Only for wantonness. By my christendom,
So I were out of prison, and kept sheep,

do me.

I should be merry as the day is long ;
And so I would be here, but that I doubt
My uncle practises more harm to me:
He is afraid of me, and I of him :
Is it my fault that I were Geoffrey's son?
No indeed, is't not; and I would to heaven,
I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.

Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate
He will awake my mercy, which lies dead :
Therefore I will be sudden, and despatch.

[Aside. Arth. Are you sick, Hubert ? You look pale to-day. In sooth, I would you were a little sick ; That I might sit all night, and watch with you. I warrant, I love you more than you

Hub. His words do take possession of my bosom . Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper.] How now foolish rheum !

[Aside. Turning dispiteous torture out the door! I must be brief; lest resolution drop Out at mine eyes, in tender womanish tears.Can you not read it? Is it not fair writ?

Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect :
Must

you
with hot irons burn out both mine

eyes

? Hub. Young boy, I must. Arth.

And will you ? Hub.

And I will. Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did but ache, I knit my handkerchief about

your

brows,
(The best I had, a princess wrought it me,)
And I did never ask it you again:
And with my hand at midnight held your
And, like the watchful minutes to the hour,
Still and anon cheered up the heavy time;
Saying, What lack you ? and, Where lies your grief ?
Or, What good love may I perform for you?
Many a poor man's son would have lain still,
And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you ;
But you at your

sick service had a prince.
Nay, you may think, my love was crafty love,
And call it, cunning: do, an if you will’:
If heaven be pleased that you should use me ill,
Why, then you must.—Will you put out mine eyes ?
These eyes, that never did, nor never shall,
So much as frown on you ?

head;

Hub.

I have sworn to do it;
And with hot irons must I burn them out.

Arth. Ah, none, but in this iron age would do it:
The iron of itself, though hěat red-hot,
Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears,
And quench its fiery indignation,
Even in the matter of mine innocence:
Nay, after that, consume away in rust,
But for containing fire to harm mine eye.
Are you more stubborn-hard than hammered iron ?
And if an angel should have come to me,
And told me, Hubert should put out mine eyes,
I would not have believed no tongue but Hubert's.*
Hub. Come forth.

[Stamps. Re-enter Attendants, with cord, irons, doc. Do as I bid

you

do. Arth. O, save me, Hubert, save me! My eyes are out, Even with the fierce looks of the bloody men.

Hub. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here.

Arth. Alas! what need you be so boisterous-rough?
I will not struggle, I will stand stone-still.
For Heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound !
Nay, hear me, Hubert ! drive these men away,
And I will sit as quiet as a lamb;
I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word,
Nor look upon the irons angerly;
Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you,
Whatever torments you do put me to.

Hub. Go, stand within ; let me alone with him.
1 Atten. I am best pleased to be from such a deed.

[Esceunt Attendants.
Arth. Alas, I then have chid away my friend :
He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart :-
Let him come back, that his compassion may
Give life to yours.
Hub.

Come, boy, prepare yourself.
Arth. Is there no remedy?
Hub. None, but to lose your eyes.

Arth. O heaven! that there were but a mote in yours,
A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair,
Any annoyance in that precious sense!

* The two negatives in this line do not amount to an affirmative: they are used to strengthen the negation :-a solecism, tolerated in the age, and often found in the writings, of Shakspeare.

Then, feeling what small things are boisterous there,
Your vile intent must needs seem horrible.

Hub. Is this your promise ? Go to, hold your tongue..

Arth. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues
Must needs want pleading for a pair of eyes :
Let me not hold my tongue; let me not, Hubert !
Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue,
So I may keep mine eyes ; 0, spare mine eyes ;
Though to no use, but still to look on you !
Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold,
And would not harm me.
Hub.

I can heat it boy.
Arth. No, in good sooth, the fire is dead with grief-
Being create for comfort to be used
In undeserved extremes: See else yourself:
There is no malice in this burning coal;
The breath of heaven hath blown its spirit out,
And strewed repentant ashes on his head.

Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy.

Arth. And if you do, you will but make it blush,
And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert;
Nay, it perchance, will sparkle in your eyes,
And, like a dog, that is compelled to fight,
Snatch at his master that does tarre him on.
All things that you should use to do me wrong,
Deny their office; only you do lack
That mercy which fierce fire, and iron, extends,-
Creatures of note, for mercy-lacking uses.

Hub. Well, see to live ; I will not touch thine eyes
For all the treasure that thine uncle owes;ť
Yet I am sworn, and I did purpose, boy,
With this same very iron to burn them out.

Arth. O, now you look like Hubert! all this while
You were disguised.
Hub.

Peace : no more : Adieu !
Your uncle must not know but you are dead :
I'll fill these dogged spies with false reports.
And, pretty child, sleep doubtless, and secure
That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world,
Will not offend thec.
Arth. O heaven !I thank

Hubert.
Hub. Silence : no more. Go closely in with me:
Much danger do I undergo for thee.

you,

[Exeunt. * Set him on.

+ Owns.

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