BEHOLD! the wide sea-shore is covered with Egypt's dead. There lie scattered upon its shining sands, the horse caparisoned, and his rider armor-clad, ready for conflict with the fugitive bondmen-and all silent and slumbering, the dark waters conceal in the chambers of the deep Pharaoh's chariots. And who is he that hath discomfited the foe, and wrought so great-deliverance? But hark, and listen to the song of triumph and of praise to Jehovah, that reverberates along the shores of "Egypt's dark sea," as its deep intonations rise from the assembled multitudes, and swell the full chorus responsive to the voice of their great leader:

I will sing unto the LORD, for he hath triumphed gloriously: The horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea.

The LORD is my strength and song,

And he is become my salvation:

He is my God, and I will prepare him an habitation;

My father's God, and I will exalt him.

The LORD is a man of war: the LORD is his name.
Pharaoh's chariots and his host hath he cast into the sea:
His chosen captains also are drowned in the Red Sea.
The depths have covered them:

They sank into the bottom as a stone.

Thy right hand, O LORD! is become glorious in power: Thy right hand, O LORD! hath dashed in pieces the enemy. And in the greatness of thine excellency

Thou hast overthrown them that rose up against thee: Thou sentest forth thy wrath, which consumed them as stubble.

And with the blast of thy nostrils the waters were gathered together:

The floods stood upright as an heap,

And the depths were congealed in the heart of the sea.
The enemy said, I will pursue, I will overtake,

I will divide the spoil; my lust shall be satisfied upon them;

I will draw my sword, my hand shall destroy them.
Thou didst blow with thy wind, the sea covered them:

They sank as lead in the mighty waters.

Who is like unto thee, Q LORD, among the Gods!

Who is like thee, glorious in holiness,

Fearful in praises, doing wonders!

Thou stretchedst out thy right hand, the earth swallowed them. Thou in thy mercy hast led forth the people which thou hast redeemed;

Thou hast guided them in thy strength unto thy holy habita

tion.

The people shall hear and be afraid :

Sorrow shall take hold on the inhabitants of Palestina. Then the dukes of Edom shall be amazed;

The mighty men of Moab! trembling shall take hold upon them;

All the inhabitants of Canaan shall melt away.
Fear and dread shall fall upon them;

By the greatness of thine arm they shall be as still as a stone;
Till thy people pass over, O LORD!

Till the people pass over, which thou hast purchased. Thou shalt bring them in, and plant them in the mountain of thine inheritance,

In the place, O LORD! which thou hast made for thee to dwell in,

In the sanctuary, O LORD! which thy hands have established.

The LORD shall reign for ever and ever!

Proud Pharaoh! the slave is now free beyond the floods; thou art at last overtaken in thy haughtiness-and the majesty of thy power is cast into the depths of the great waters. The might of man lifted not up those waters-they went not back for fear of the rod and right hand of Moses! It is Jehovah that hath triumphed-it was at his word that the deep gathered itself into heaps on either hand. The vengeance of the Most High could not sleep always-his wrath could not always be restrained. Four hundred and thirty years did he witness the oppressions of thyself, and the Pharaohs that sat upon thy throne before thee; but the great day of his wrath and the fierceness of his indignation have come upon thee-and the hosts that thou didst bring up from the land of the Pyramids, “the sea covered them-they sank as lead in the mighty waters."

Mighty monarch! seven times didst thou turn a deaf ear to the petitions of Moses and Aaron for the emancipation of their brethren in bonds; and often wast thou visited with signs and wonders from the Lord of Hosts, because thou didst harden thy heart, and set thy face against the children of Israel. Madman of Egypt! knowest thou what caused thy beautiful river to be turned into blood, and the inhabitants of its waters to die, and blood to be throughout all the land of the Nile? Tell us wherefore from the streams and the pools of water in all thy borders, thou wast visited of reptiles--and why there fell upon thee the plagues of loathsome vermin, and

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noisome flies, and wasting murrain, and burning boils, and smiting hail, and devouring locusts? Didst thou call upon the magicians, with their sorceries and enchantments, to deliver the land -or upon the LORD OF HOSTS who is "glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders?" Thou wouldst not let go the bondmen, till thick darkness that could be felt, enshrouded for three days thy whole kingdom-nor until the Angel of Death had smitten all the first-born of man and beast in thy dominions. Miserable man! the measure of thine iniquity is full-and thou art destroyed!

Man of God! we have seen thy miracles and listened to the midnight cry of Egypt's affrighted inhabitants, when the Lord smote all their firstborn, and there was not a house where there was not one dead. Great Liberator! on the night of the sacrifice of the Lord's Passover, thou didst lead forth from the house of bondage six hundred thousand men, and with thy rod didst make for them a pathway through the depths of the

sea.

Sing ye to the LORD! for he hath triumphed gloriously; The horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea.

In tracing the history of Eloquence, we are struck with the remarkable fact, that its earliest annals are also those of its most signal triumphs. In that age of wonders, when Athens burst upon the world in all the splendor of her literature, her arts, and arms, Eloquence was born. Like that most beautiful of the mythologic fancies, the Goddess of Wisdom, it seems to have sprung at once to perfection, full-armed and glorious. We know, indeed, that Greece abounded in orators, before the age of Demosthenes. But the earlier and ruder efforts of the art, like the impassioned talks of our own Aborigines, perished with the occasions that produced them. The eloquence of Pericles, indeed, was of a higher stamp. He seems to have been the first great orator of Greece and the world. But though we are told, and can believe, that "he thundered, and lightened, and shook all Greece," no authentic specimen of his powers remains. Of the Athenian orators immediately preceding, and cotemporary with Demosthenes, we shall make no mention here, dimmed as they were, and ever must be, by his incomparable splendor.

The superiority of Demosthenes, and his claim to rank as the greatest of orators, is universally admitted. His reputation, like that of Homer, than which it is only less ancient, may be considered as resting on an immovable basis. It is established by the admiration of his acute and fastidious countrymen-by the unbounded sway which he exerted over them—and by the dread with which he inspired their foes. Cicero, the allaccomplished orator, philosopher, and statesman -Quintilian, the greatest of rhetoricians-and Longinus, the ablest of critics-alike awarded to him the palm of unrivaled eloquence. Nor has the decision of antiquity been reversed by the moderns. Little as his sententious energy has been imitated, its vast superiority is conceded by all.

Demosthenes, for obvious reasons, is much less known than Cicero. Selected orations of the latter form a part of the preparatory course for college, while the former is scarcely studied, even in college. To read the Grecian orator in his own tongue, with a just appreciation and relish of his

merits, requires a familiarity with the language. which comparatively few attain. The Greek of Demosthenes is by no means easy. The very excellencies of his style, its conciseness and idiomatic structure, render the acquisition a serious labor, even for those who have become familiar with other Greek authors. He has indeed been well translated. Few, however, take an interest in translations, which was not first inspired by the originals. It must be remembered also, that the best translation is an imitation rather than facsimile-that the Greek and English idioms are widely dissimilar-and that there are peculiar. ities in the style of Demosthenes, which render the the transfer especially difficult. In view of these considerations, it may seem less strange, though not perhaps any the less to be regretted, that the acknowledged Prince of orators should be so little known, and so imperfectly appreciated.

Demosthenes was eminently argumentative. No orator can be named, who, in this respect, is more original, more ingenious, or more logical. In statement, he is succinct and clear. His arrangement is perfect without the show of arrangement; and he is unerring in the sagacity with which he discovers his own strong points, and the weak ones of his adversary.

But his argumentation is never dry-it is never cold. His reasoning seems to proceed as much from the heart as from the head. He so intermingles his declamation with his argument, that it never appears to be declamation. Through the entire texture of his discourse, reason and passion, passion and reason, like warp and woof, are beautifully interwoven. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say of this peculiar feature, that his argument is impassioned, and his declamation logical. The profound, brilliant, impetuous flow of his eloquence is like that of some great river, when having escaped its rocky barriers, it has gained the gentler inclination of the alluvial plains; no longer chafed and frothy as among the hills, nor discolored yet by admixture with the sea;-deep, clear, rapid, sparkling,—it rolls along, a noble image of beauty, grandeur, and irresistible power.

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His conciseness has already been named. This trait was carried by our orator to such an extreme, that some have even deemed it a fault. But this we would be slow to assert. It is unquestionably one great source of his power. Everything is finished with consummate care. Every word is significant and apt; and that very place is assigned to each, which makes it most effective. Hence, indeed, arises no small part of the difficulty of transfusing his spirit and power into another language.

With that exquisite tact, which never forsakes him, he stops always at the precise point of greatest effect. Having made a bold or happy stroke, he passes on to his argument or inference. By no needless explanation-by no superfluous embellishment, does he endanger the effect, or incur the hazard of "tearing his subject to tatters." How unlike, in this respect, to most orators of modern times!

But nothing seems to have attracted the wonder and admiration of his readers so much, as that oblivion of self which is conspicuous on every page. It is to the Olynthiacs and Philippics that we now refer. In these immortal productions Demosthenes seems to be nothing:-his subject-his cause-his country-every thing. Widely different was the case with Cicero, whose elaborate pictures rarely failed to exhibit the orator himself the most prominent figure in the foreground. While we follow the Grecian orator, we cease to wonder at his success. Such earnestness and sincerity; such all-absorbing, self-renouncing patriotism, exhibited with such force of argument, and such powers of appeal, could not but be resistless, for we cannot resist them ourselves. Once fairly in the stream, the torrent bears us on. We think not of stoppingwe cannot stop if we would. Unreluctant capfives, we surrender at discretion, and realize that it is exciting and delightful, thus to feel the influence of one master mind;

While still "our little barks attendant sail,
Pursue the triumph, and partake the gale."

It is well known that all the essential powers of the Athenian state were vested in the people. The government of Athens was, to all intents, an unmixed and unmitigated democracy. All matters, both of internal and external policy, all questions both of peace and war, were debated and decided in the popular assembly. The Athenians were a remarkable race;-a people of ardent temperament-and clear and active intelIct. Perhaps no other community of equal ex tent has ever existed, so polished, SO universally literary. Accustomed to constant attendance on

dramatic exhibitions-that faultless drama, which, to this day, is the unrivaled model of simplicity and beauty; living in an age and land in which the fine arts, history, poetry, and eloquence were carried to the very zenith of perfection,—the Athenians had become, in all matters of taste and language, ingeniously acute, fastidiously critical. Prone to admiration, more prone to distrust; passionately devoted to war and glory-still more devoted to pleasure and ease; indolent, fickle, turbulent at home-when abroad, active, patient, brave; the Athenian character was a singular compound of good and evil. Such was the people whom Demosthenes addressed.

Let us enter their assembly. The place of meeting is an amphitheatre of vast extent. Its canopy is the open sky. In the rear, but high above them, towers the Acropolis, glorious with that architectural splendor, on whose crumbling relics we still gaze with the admiration of despair. Before them is the blue Ægean-their gallant navy riding by the shore, and in the distance, "unconquered Salamis," the scene of its early glory. On those stone-benches are seated, within reach of a single speaker's eye and voice, an entire myriad of human beings-met here on terms of perfect equality, to deliberate on the state of the nation. The civil and military power which they wield, is no other than that which once repelled the millions of Persia-and which since, on a thousand hard-fought fields of intestine and of foreign war, has drawn around it all that sympathy which we naturally feel in brilliant success and unparalleled disaster. All feel it to be a scene of overwhelming interest. The moment is big with the fate of empires. On the decisions of the hour may depend the question, whether Athens shall longer be the eye of Greece, and glory of the world. Nay, morefreedom and slavery-national existence and national extinction may now be oscillating in the balance of Fate.

Philip of Macedon, an ambitious and able monarch, has long been aiming at the sovereignty of Greece. No means likely to effect his purpose have been left untried. One after another of the Grecian states has yielded to Macedonian arms, or arts, or gold. Athens alone was competent to resist the usurper. Moved by the threatening danger and the harangues of Demosthenes, more than once has she roused herself to action, and after checking the tyrant's career, sunk again into security. But intelligence has come of new and more alarming encroachments. Treaties have been violated; provinces overrun; cities in alliance conquered and destroyed. The designs of the king are but too manifest-the danger is

great and imminent. Already has the herald, according to custom, called on those who have anything to offer in the present emergency, to come forward and give their advice. Already has age uttered its warning voice, and eloquence painted in glowing colors the magnitude and difficulty of a war with Philip. The timid, the prudent, and the venal, have united in magnifying the power and clemency of the monarch; in portraying the weakness of the republic, and in urging the necessity of conciliation and submission. There are evident indications that the advice is not unwelcome to the indolent and pleasure-loving sons of Athens. Dares any, under these circumstances, offer a contrary opinion? Considering the fearful odds and the great uncertainty, will any venture to propose a war with Philip, knowing that should the measure be adopted, and prove unsuccessful, the author of such advice makes himself liable to the penalty of death, under the laws of his country. But lo! Demosthenes ascends the rostrum. Self-possessed, unassuming, yet conscious of his powers, it is his purpose to stem the tide which he sees advancing; to roll back the current; to operate, in other words, on this mighty mass of mind, and bend, and melt, and mould it to his own. He spends no breath in labored introduction, but enters at once on his subject. In terms of cutting severity, he chides the supineness and false security of his countrymen. Yet so unquestioned is his integrity; such the sincerity of his patriot ardor; so evidently good his motive,-that he awakens no resentment, excites no feelings but those of shame. He allows, indeed, that much is lost, but much still remains. He suffers no despondence. He unfolds the resources of the state, and convinces his countrymen that nothing is

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even now needed but resolution and perseverance. Above all, he portrays with vivid brightness the injustice and the designs of Philip. The ambitious monarch, the unprincipled man, is set before us. Every winding of his crooked policy is unraveled; every latent motive set in the blaze of day. As he proceeds, indignation glows in every breast-quivers on the lip-kindles in the

eye.

Finally, he calls up the images of the past The earlier glories of Athens; the spirit of their fathers, who preferred death to ignominy; that renown, beyond the reach even of envy, which they won; the institutions which they bequeathed, and the monuments of their taste and glory still clustering thick around, are touched with equal rapidity and power. One victory, at least is gained the victory of the orator. Ten thousand minds feel and acknowledge the mastery of one. Yet such is the charm of his eloquence, that they think not of him-they think not of themselves. High thoughts of country fill every soul. At his Caducean touch, irresolution and pusillanimity have vanished. Philip is no longer dreaded; the Macedonian phalanx is no longer invincible. Marathon and Platea are before them. Mars once more woos them to his fierce embrace, and Minerva, their own Minerva, mar shals them to victory.

"The jarring States obsequious now

View the Patriot's hand on high,
Thunder gathering on his brow,

Lightning flashing from his eye!
Borne by the tide of words along,
One voice, one mind, inspire the throng:

To arms! to ARMS! to ARMS! they cry.
Grasp the shield, and draw the sword,
Lead us to Philippi's lord-

Let us conquer him, or die!"

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