that there are few passages of equal tenderness and power in the whole range of English eloquence. We are strongly reminded of Shakspeare's delineation of Wolsey, under similar circumstances, in some of the most pathetic scenes which poetry has ever depicted.]

MY LORDS, be pleased to give that regard to the peerage

of England, as never to expose yourselves to such novel points, such constructive interpretations of law. If there must be a trial of wits, let the subject-matter be something else than the lives and honor of peers! It will be wisdom for yourselves and your posterity to cast into the fire these bloody and mysterious volumes of constructive and arbitrary treason, as the primitive Christians did their books of curious arts, and betake yourselves to the plain letter of the law and the statute, which telleth what is and what is not treason, without being ambitious to be more learned in the art of killing than our forefathers. These gentlemen tell us that they speak in defence of the Commonwealth against their arbitrary treason!

2. It is now full two hundred and forty years since any man was touched for this alleged crime to this height before myself. Let us not awaken those sleeping lions to our destruction, by taking up a few musty records that have lain by the walls for so many ages, forgotten or neglected.

3. My Lords, what is my present misfortune may be forever yours. It is not the smallest part of my grief that not the crime of treason, but my other sins, which are exceeding many, have brought me to this bar; and, except your Lordships' wisdom provide against it, the shedding of my blood may make way for the tracing out of yours. You, your estates, your posterity, lie at the stake.

4. For my poor self, if it were not for your Lordships' interest, and the interest of a saint in heaven, who hath left me here two pledges on earth (at this his breath stopped, and he shed tears abundantly in mentioning his wife), I should never take the pains to keep up this ruinous cottage of mine. It is loaded with such infirmities, that in truth I have no great pleasure to carry it about with me any longer. Nor could I

ever leave it at a fitter time than this, when I hope that the better part of the world would perhaps think that by my misfortunes I had given a testimony of my integrity to my God, my king, and my country. I thank God, I count not the afflictions of the present life to be compared to that glory which is to be revealed in the time to come!

5. My Lords! my Lords! my Lords! something more I had intended to say, but my voice and my spirit fail me. Only I do in all humility and submission cast myself down at your Lordships' feet, and desire that I may be a beacon to keep you from shipwreck. Do not put such rocks in your own way, which no prudence, no circumspection can eschew or satisfy but by your utter ruin !

6. And so, my Lords, even so with all tranquillity of mind, I submit myself to your decision. And whether your judgment in my case I wish it were not the case of you all-be for life or for death, it shall be righteous in my eyes, and shall be received with a Te Deum laudamus-we give God the praise.

15. SENATORIAL DENUNCIATION OF RICHARD CROMWELL.

[Sir Henry Vane was born in England, 1612. He was the fourth Governor of the Colony of Massachusetts. In 1662 he was executed for high treason, on Malvern Hill, England. The remarkable speech, of which we give a brief extract, did not fail in its effects-Richard Cromwell never appeared in public after it was delivered. "This impetuous torrent," says one of Vane's biographers, "swept every thing before it. Oratory, genius, and the spirit of liberty never achieved a more complete triumph. It broke, and forever, the power of Richard and his party."]

MR.

R. SPEAKER: Among all the people of the universe, I know none who have shown so much zeal for the liberty of their country as the English at this time have done ;-they have, by the help of Divine Providence, overcome all obstacles, and have made themselves free. We have driven away the hereditary tyranny of the House of Stuart, at the expense of much blood and treasure, in hopes of enjoying hereditary

liberty, after having shaken off the yoke of kingship; and there is not a man among us who could have imagined that any person would be so bold as to dare to attempt the ravishing from us that freedom which cost us so much blood and so much labor.

2. But so it happens, I know not by what misfortune, we are fallen into the error of those who poisoned the Emperor Titus to make room for Domitian; who made away Augustus that they might have Tiberius; and changed Claudius for Nero. I am sensible these examples are foreign from my subject, since the Romans in those days were buried in lewdness and luxury, whereas the people of England are now renowned all over the world for their great virtue and discipline; and yet,-suffer an idiot, without courage, without sense,-nay, without ambition,-to have dominion in a country of liberty!

3. One could bear a little with Oliver Cromwell, though, contrary to his oath of fidelity to the Parliament, contrary to his duty to the public, contrary to the respect he owed that venerable body from whom he received his authority, he usurped the Government. His merit was so extraordinary, that our judgments, our passions, might be blinded by it. He made his way to empire by the most illustrious actions; he had under his command an army that had made him a conqueror, and a people that had made him their general.

4. But, as for Richard Cromwell, his son, who is he? what are his titles? We have seen that he had a sword by his side; but did he ever draw it? And, what is of more importance in this case, is he fit to get obedience from a mighty nation, who could never make a footman obey him? Yet, we must recognize this man as our king, under the style of Protector!-a man without birth, without courage, without con duct! For my part, I declare, sir, it shall never be said that I made such a man my master!

SIR HENRY VANE.

16. KING JOHN AND HUBERT.

This speech, where King John takes Hubert aside and tempts him to undertake the murder of the king's fair young nephew, Prince Arthur, is a most admirable exercise on the lower tones of the voice. It exhibits a sort of descending, or anti-climax, the words, a grave, being pronounced in the lowest tones we can command. It must be delivered in an earnest whisper; but as this whisper must be heard by the entire audience, great force must be added to these low tones. None but good readers and the best orators can do this well; but these notes are of great importance, and in the hands of a well-practiced speaker or reader, they are a source of much pleasing variety.]

K. John. Come hither, Hubert. 0, my gentle Hubert,
We owe thee much; within this wall of flesh
There is a soul counts thee her creditor,
And with advantage means to pay thy love.
And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished.
Give me thy hand, I had a thing to say-
But I will fit it with some better time.
By heav'n, Hubert, I'm almost ashamed
To say what good respect I have of thee.

Hub. I am much bounden to your majesty

K. John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to say so yet, But thou shalt have-and creep time ne'er so slow,

Yet it shall come for me to do thee good:

I had a thing to say, but let it go;

The sun is in the heav'n, and the proud day,
Attended with the pleasures of the world,
Is all too wanton and too full of gauds
To give me audience. If the midnight bell
Did with his iron tongue and brazen mouth
Sound one unto the drowsy race of night;
If this same were a churchyard where we stand,
And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs;
Or if that thou couldst see me without eyes,
Hear me without thine ears, and make reply
Without a tongue, using conceit alone,

Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words
Then in despite of broad-eyed, watchful day,
I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts.
But, ah! I will not-yet I love thee well,
And by my troth, I think thou lov'st me well.

Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake,
Though that my death were adjunct to my act,
By heav'n I'd do it.

K. John. Do I not know that thou wouldst?
Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye
On yon young boy: I'll tell thee what, my friend,
He is a very serpent in my way,

And wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread,
He lies before me. Dost thou understand me?
Thou art his keeper.

Hub. And I'll keep him so,

That he shall not offend your majesty.

K. John. Death.

Hub. My lord?

K. John. A grave.

Hub. He shall not live.

K. John. Enough.

I could be merry now. Hubert, I love thee;
Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee:
Remember.

SHAKSPEARK

17. STRICTURES ON WILLIAM PITT.

SIR, I was unwilling to interrupt the course of this debate, while it was carried on with calmness and decency, by men who do not suffer the ardor of opposition to cloud their reason, or transport them to such expressions as the dignity of this assembly does not admit. I have hitherto deferred to answer the gentleman who declaimed against the bill with such fluency of rhetoric, and such vehemence of gesture,who charged the advocates for the expedients now proposed