that self-culture must vary with the individual. All means do not equally suit us all. A man must unfold himself freely, and should respect the peculiar gifts or biases by which nature has distinguished him from others. Self-culture does not demand the sacrifice of individuality. It does not regularly apply an established machinery, for the sake of torturing every man into one rigid shape, called perfection. As the human countenance, with the same features in us all, is diversified without end in the race, and is never the same in any two individuals, so the human soul, with the same grand powers and laws, expands into an infinite variety of forms, and would be wofully stinted by modes of culture requiring all men to learn the same lesson or to bend to the same rules. I know how hard it is to some men, especially to those who spend much time in manual labor, to fix attention on books. Let them strive to overcome the difficulty, by choosing subjects of deep interest, or by reading in company with those whom they love. Nothing can supply the place of books. They are cheering or soothing companions in solitude, illness, affliction. The wealth of both continents would not compensate for the good they impart. Let every man, if possible, gather some good books under his roof, and obtain access, for himself and family, to some social library. Almost any luxury should be sacrificed to this. CHANNING. 91. The Speech of Brutus on the Death of Cæsar. ROMANS, Countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause, and be silent that you may hear. Believe me for mine honor, and have respect to mine honor, that you may believe. Censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Cæsar's, to him I say, that Brutus's love to Cæsar was no less than his. If, then, that friend demand, why Brutus rose against Cæsar - this is my answer. Not that I loved Cæsar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Cæsar were living, and die all slaves, than that Cæsar were dead, to live all freemen? As Cæsar loved me I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honor him; but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There are tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honor for his valor, and death for his ambition. Who's here so base, that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who's here so rude, that would not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who's here so vile, that will not love his country? If any, speak, for him have I offended. I pause for a reply. None? then none have I offended. I have done no more to Cæsar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol; his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered death. Here comes his body mourned by Mark Antony; who though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying—a place in the commonwealth; as which of you shall not? With this I depart, that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death. SHAKSPEARE 92. Antony's Funeral Oration over Cæsar's Body FRIENDS, Romans, Countrymen! - lend me your ears. Hath told you Cæsar was ambitious, Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest, - He was my friend, faithful and just to me But Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honorable man! He hath brought many captives home to Rome When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept You all did see, that on the Lupercal, And, sure, he is an honorable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke; But here I am to speak what I do know. Have stood against the world—now lies he there, O masters! if I were disposed to stir I will not do them wrong; I rather choose Unto their issue! If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent: Look! in this place ran Cassius' dagger through; For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel. This, this was the unkindest cut of all; For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitor's arms, Quite vanquished him; then burst his mighty heart; And in his mantle muffling up his face, Even at the base of Pompey's statue, Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell. O what a fall was there, my countrymen! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody treason flourished over us. , now you weep; and I perceive you feel Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up They that have done this deed are honorable; I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts; But, as you know me all, a plain, blunt man, I tell you that which you yourselves do know; Show you sweet Cæsar's wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths !— And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony SHAKSPEARE. "How did Garrick speak the soliloquy, last night?" "O! against all rule, my lord, most ungrammatically! Betwixt the substantive and the adjective, which should agree together in number, case, and gender, he made a breach thus stopping as if the point wanted settling; and betwixt the nominative case and verb, - your lordship knows the nominative case should agree with the verb, - he suspended his voice in the epilogue, a dozen times, three seconds and three fifths, by a stop-watch, each time.” "Admirable grammarian! But, in suspending his voice, was the sense suspended? Did no expression of attitude or countenance fill up the cham? Was the eye silent? Did you narrowly look?" "I looked only at the stop-watch, my lord." "Excellent observer!" |