My lord, 'twere well you ventured not yourself;
Those lakes are dangerous at night; the course
Is long.

Ges. No, Sarnem, I must see the slave
Disposed myself. My castle on the lake's
Impregnable. The storm I fear,

Is that we carry with us. Tell's the cloud
From which I dread a thunderbolt!

[Exeunt.]

Scene 9.-A mountain, with a view of the Lake Lucerne.

Old M.

Emma.
Old M.

Emma.

The cliff

[Enter Emma, leading Old Melctal.]
I keep thee back?

No.

I'm sure I do.

And if you do, it matters not-we've gained Should Erni come, how lies the track

From this, he'll take?

Old M. Then set me fronting it. Now, as I point, Seest thou the shoulder of a wooded hill;

That overlooks the rest? [Pointing.]

Emma. I see it well.

Old M.

Emma.

Old M.

Another hill's in front of it?

There is.

His track lies o'er the verge of that same hill,

And so exact from this, what moves upon't

Is plainly seen betwixt the sky and you.
Discern you aught upon't?

Emma. I think I do.

Yes yes, I do.

Old M.

What dost thou see upon that hill, my child? Emma. Figures of men in motion; but as dim As shadows yet.

Old M. 'Tis Erni! O that I

Had eyes to see the shadow of my

child!

O blessed are they that see!-They twice embrace
The precious things they love.—If it be they,
They'll soon be here.

Emma. Too late, I fear; too late

To save my husband and my child. Why fled
The churl soon as he told us they were in
The tyrant's power? [Crosses.]

Old M. Blame not his haste, my child, 'Twas sure for good.

Emma. I see a bark upon

The lake. I think I see the gleam

Of lances in the bark-I'm sure I do!

Old M. Likely, my child: the tyrant and his guards, Perhaps are there. He has a hold, you know,

Upon the lake-a castle, stronger far

Than that at Altorf.

Old M. What!

What moves you so, my child?

Emma. The form of him [Looks out.]

Who steers the bark, is like

Old M. Like whose ?

Emma. My husband's!

Yes-yes! 'Tis William !-So he holds the helm;
I'd know him at the helm from any man
That ever steered a bark upon the lake.

I fear I fear !—

Old M. What is't you fear, my daughter! [s't the lake ?

Emma. No. no! The lake is rough;

Chafed with the storm of yesternight 'tis rough;

But 'tis not that I fear.

The lances in that bark?

What business have

What's that he does?

He steers her right upon a rock !—'Tis in

Despair; and there he'll die before my eyes!

Ha! what! What's that? He springs upon the rock! He flies! -he's free!-but they pursue him!

Old M. See how our friends come on. If it were they, they should be nearer now. Emma. They are!-They are !

Old M. Let's haste to meet them, then, The track-the track -Let us trust to them

For aid. Don't look behind. Come on--come on! [Exeunt.] [Enter Tell from an eminence.]

Tell. Whene'er I choose, I have the speed of them, Nor dare they shoot: so oft as they prepare,

If I but bend my bow, the terror of

The deadly aim alone transfixes them.

That down, they drop their weapons by their sides,
And stand and gaze, with lapsed power, as though
In every heart an arrow from my bow

it now.

Stood quivering. I knew that beetling cliff
Would cost them breath to climb. They top
Ha! [Bends his bow.] Have I brought you to a stand

again?

for me;

I'll keep you there, to give your master time
To breathe. Poor slaves! no game are you
But could I draw the tyrant on, that shrinks
Behind you. There he is! [Bends his bow.]
[Enter Archers and Spearmen, followed by Gesler.]
Ges. Wherefore do you fly!

Tell. Wherefore do you pursue me
? Said you not
You'd give me liberty, if through the storm

I safely steered your prow? The waves did then
Lash over you; your pilot left the helm;

I took it, and they reared their heads no more,
Unless to bow them, and give way to me,
And let your pinnace on.
You did repeat

Your promise. You twice

Promised me liberty. I only take
What you did promise.

Ges. Traitor, 'twas your place
To wait
my time.

Tell. It would have been, had I

Believed that time would come. If I'm a prize
Worthy to take, why hang you thus behind

Your minions? Why not lead the chase yourself?
Lack you the manhood e'en to breast the sport
You love?

Ges. Transfix the slave with all your darts,
At once.

Tell. Ha! [Takes aim again--they drop their weapons, which they had half raised.]

Follow me! Keen huntsmen they,

The game itself must urge. Keep up the chase! [He rushes out.]

Ges. You keep too close together. Spread yourselves, That some of you may hit him unawares.

His quiver full of ducats, to the man

That brings him down. On, cowards - on, I say! [Exeunt.]

Scene 10.-The outside of Gesler's Castle.

Enter Gesler's guards, retreating in great haste and confusion-Tell closely following, with bended bow.] Tell. Fly! fly! ye base, ignoble cowards, fly!

[Enter Erni, Furst, Melctal, Emma, Verner, and people.] Welcome, my worthy friends. The chase is o'er,

The prize is won. -An arrow from this bow

Hath felt the last throb of the tyrant's heart.
My country's free! Yes Switzers, once again
Ye breathe the air of glorious liberty!

People. Huzza-huzza!

Alb. [Rushing on the stage.] 'Tis liberty, my father; Oh! 'tis liberty!

[Exeunt.]

Prince Henry. My heart bleeds inwardly, that my father is so sick; and keep ing such vile company as thou art, hath in reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow. Henry IV., Part II.

XXXVIII-A DEBATE.-Rowton.

QUESTION. Which is of the greatest benefit to his country-the Warrior-the Statesman-or the Poet?

FIRST SPEAKER-SECOND SPEAKER-THIRD SPEAKER--FOURTH FIFTH SPEAKER

SPEAKER

SIXTH SPEAKER

SPEAKER-EIGHTH SPEAKER-NINTH SPEAKER.

SEVENTH

First Speaker-Sir, The question which I have undertaken to open, is, I think, one of considerable importance and interest. We are to be called upon to say-Which is of the greatest benefit to his country-the Warrior,—the Statesman, or the Poet? The Warrior is the man who directs the physical strength of his nation-the man who fights its battles, repulses its invaders, holds discontent in check, and defends its rights at the hazard of his life: the Statesman is the man who directs the mental force of his nation; who by his keen intellect devises laws, avoids evils, secures social order, and controls the wild elements of popular feeling: and the Poet is the man who guides the moral power of his nation; who teaches it truth, arouses it to goodness, and impresses it with beauty. Yes, it is important to judge between these three: to know which is the noblest kind of power; to discern the highest sort of greatness. For our conduct depends in no small measure upon our opinions and according to the idea that we form of greatness, shall we alone endeavor to be great. Moreover, the question is a difficult one. Much thought is necessary to elucidate it, and much insight to determine it with truth. It is like judging between the different members of the body. For the Warrior is the arm,-the Statesman the head, and the Poet the heart, of the community and just as it is difficult to choose between the members of the body physical, so is it difficult to choose between the members of the body politic. I shall wait, sir. to hear the sentiments of others before I decide, and for the present shall content myself with this simple introduction of the question, trusting that it will receive that full discussion which it merits.

Second Speaker-Sir, I quite agree with the opener, that he has presented us with a difficult subject for debate. And, I think, with all submission, that our friend has increased the difficulty by the selection of these particular characters