SANDERS' UNION FOURTH READER: EMBRACING A FULL EXPOSITION OF THE PRINCIPLES OF RHETORICAL READING; WITH NUMEROUS EXERCISES FOR PRACTICE, BOTH IN PROSE AND POETRY, VARIOUS IN STYLE, AND CAREFULLY ADAPTED TO THEPURPOSES OF TEACHING IN SCHOOLS OF EVERY GRADE. BY CHARLES W. SANDERS, A. M. PREFACE. THIS FOURTH READER is designed to pass the pupil from the comparativelyeasy ground occupied by the THIRD to the more difficult course embracedin THE UNION FIFTH READER, which is next higher in the series. It is, therefore, carefully graded to this intermediate position. In one sense, however, it is the most important in the set; since thegreat mass of pupils, in our common schools, are drawn away fromscholastic pursuits long before the proper time for entering upon anycourse of reading more advanced than that which is here presented. Thisconsideration has had its full weight in the preparation of thefollowing pages. Every exercise will be found to bear the impress of that specialadaptation to the purposes of teaching, without which no book of thiskind can fully perform the office which it assumes. The labor expendedin this direction, though all unseen by the casual observer, has beenneither light nor brief. It can be duly appreciated by none but theexperienced teacher. All words in the exercises, requiring explanation, have been arranged, as regular lessons in spelling and definition. In these definitions, however, it must be kept in mind, that no attempt has been made to give_all the meanings of which a word is susceptible, but that only which itbears in the particular place in the exercise where it is found. _ Thereis a special educational advantage in thus leading the mind of the pupildefinitely to fix upon the _precise import_ of a word, in someparticular use or application of it. All proper names occurring in the text, and at all likely to embarrassthe learner, have been explained in brief, comprehensive notes. Thesenotes involve many matters, Geographical, Biographical, and Historical, which are not a little interesting in themselves, aside from the specialpurpose subserved by them in the present connection. All this has been done, and more, in order to secure that kind ofinterest in the exercises which comes of reading what is clearlyunderstood; and because no perfect reading is possible, where the readerhimself fails to perceive the meaning of what he reads. In the selection and adaptation of the pieces, the highest aim has beento make and to leave the best moral impression; and this, not by dulland formal teachings, but by the pleasanter, and, therefore, morepowerful, means of incidental and unexpected suggestion. Admonition isthen most likely to be heeded, when it comes through the channel ofevents and circumstances. The direct and ostensible aim of the book, however, has been keptsteadily in view; which is to furnish the best possible exercises forpractice in Rhetorical reading. To this end, the greatest variety ofstyle and sentiment has been sought. There is scarcely a tone ormodulation, of which the human voice is capable, that finds not heresome piece adapted precisely to its best expression. There is not aninflection, however delicate, not an emphasis, however slight, howeverstrong, that does not here meet with something fitted well for itsamplest illustration. No tenderness of pathos, no earnestness ofthought, no play of wit, no burst of passion, is there, perhaps, ofwhich the accomplished teacher of Elocution may not find the properstyle of expression in these pages, and, consequently, the best examplesfor the illustration of his art. The book, thus briefly described, is, therefore, given to the publicwith the same confidence that has hitherto inspired the author insimilar efforts, and with the hope that it may reach even a highermeasure of usefulness than that attained by any of its predecessors, inthe long line of works which he has prepared for the use of schools. NEW YORK, April, 1863. CONTENTS. PART FIRST. ELOCUTION. SECTION I. --ARTICULATION ELEMENTARY SOUNDS OF THE LETTERS SUBSTITUTES FOR THE VOWEL ELEMENTS SUBSTITUTES FOR THE CONSONANT ELEMENTS ERRORS IN ARTICULATION COMBINATIONS OF CONSONANTS EXAMPLES TO ILLUSTRATE INDISTINCT ARTICULATION MISCELLANEOUS EXAMPLES SECTION II--ACCENT AND EMPHASIS EXAMPLES OF PRIMARY AND SECONDARY ACCENT EXAMPLES OF INTENSIVE EMPHASIS EXAMPLES OF ABSOLUTE EMPHASIS EXAMPLES OF ANTITHETIC EMPHASIS SECTION III. --INFLECTIONS MONOTONE RISING AND FALLING INFLECTIONS RULES FOR THE USE OF INFLECTIONS THE CIRCUMFLEX SECTION IV. --MODULATION PITCH OF VOICE QUANTITY RULES FOR QUANTITY QUALITY RULES FOR QUALITY NOTATION IN MODULATION EXAMPLES FOR EXERCISE IN MODULATION SECTION V. --THE RHETORICAL PAUSE PART SECOND. 1. TRUE HEROISM, _Adapted. Osborne_ 2. YOU AND I, _Charles Mackay_ 3. LIFE'S WORK 4. THE YOUNG CAPTIVES 5. MY MOTHER'S LAST KISS, _Mrs. E. Oakes Smith_ 6. THE DEAD CHILD'S FORD, _Mrs. E. Oakes Smith_ 7. LAME AND LAZY--_A Fable_ 8. FAITHFULNESS IN LITTLE THINGS, _Adapted, Eliza A. Chase_ 9. THE AMERICAN BOY 10. THE SAILOR BOY'S SONG 11. CHASE OF THE PET FAWN, _Adapted. Miss Cooper_ 12. KINDNESS 13. CARELESS WORDS 14. WEBSTER AND THE WOODCHUCK, _Adapted. Boston Traveler_ 15. DO IT YOURSELF 16. BETTER LATE THAN NEVER 17. THE ADOPTED CHILD, _Mrs. Hemans_ 18. THE OLD EAGLE TREE, _Rev. John Todd_ 19. THE LIGHT OF KNOWLEDGE, _Elihu Burritt_ 20. NIGHT'S LESSONS, _L. H. Sigourney_ 21. NATURE'S TEACHINGS, _Chambers' Journal_ 22. SOWING AND HARVESTING, _Anon. _ 23. A THRILLING INCIDENT, _Adapted. Anon. _ 24. THE TRUTHFUL KING 25. WHEN SHALL I ANSWER, NO, _J. N. McElligott_ 26. TO MASTER ROBERT AND JOHN, _Davis_ 27. WHANG, THE MILLER, _Goldsmith_ 28. CHIMNEY-SWALLOWS, _Henry Ward Beecher_ 29. THE DOUBTING HEART, _Adelaide Procter_ 30. THE COMING OF WINTER, _T. B. Read_ 31. CHILD TIRED OF PLAY, _N. P. Willis_ 32. THE RESCUE, _By a Sea Captain_ 33. ROBERT BRUCE AND THE SCOTCH WOMAN 34. ROBERT BRUCE AND THE SPIDER, _Bernard Barton_ 35. WEALTH AND FASHION 36. MY FIRST JACK-KNIFE 37. THE PINE-TREE SHILLINGS, _Nathaniel Hawthorne_ 38. HIAWATHA'S HUNTING, _Longfellow_ 39. DESPERATE ENCOUNTER WITH A PANTHER, _Bk. Of Adventures_ 40. THE POWER OF HABIT, _John B. Gough_ 41. THE DRUNKARD'S DAUGHTER 42. THE TWO YOUNG TRAVELERS, _Adapted. Merry's Museum_ 43. HIGHER! 44. LABOR, _Caroline F. Orne_ 45. THE AMBITIOUS APPRENTICE 46. SO WAS FRANKLIN, _Anon. _ 47. NOW AND THEN, _Jane Taylor_ 48. AN INGENIOUS STRATAGEM, _Days of Washington_ 49. FRANCES SLOCUM, THE YOUNG CAPTIVE, _B. J. Lossing_ 50. THE RAIN-DROPS, _Delia Louise Colton_ 51. SMALL THINGS, _F. Bennoch_ 52. MURDERER'S CREEK, _James K. Paulding_ 53. NAPOLEON'S ARMY CROSSING THE ALPS, _Adapted. Anon. _ 54. WHERE THERE'S A WILL THERE'S A WAY, _Eliza Cook_ 55. "I CAN" 56. NOW, TO-DAY, _Adelaide A. Procter_ 57. CAPTURE OF MAJOR ANDRE 58. BENEDICT ARNOLD 59. BEHIND TIME, _Freeman Hunt_ 60. HOW HAPPY I'LL BE 61. THE SWORD OF BUNKER HILL, _William R. Wallace_ 62. BIBLE LEGEND OF THE WISSAHIKON, _Lippard_ 63. ADVICE TO THE YOUNG, _E. H. Chapin_ 64. THE INTREPID YOUTH 65. THE FOUR MISFORTUNES, _John G. Saxe_ 66. MRS. CREDULOUS AND THE FORTUNE-TELLER 67. FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY--_An Allegory_ 68. NOT TO MYSELF ALONE, _S. W. Partridge_ 69. THE WORLD WOULD BE THE BETTER FOR IT, _W. H. Cobb_ 70. SELECT PROVERBS OF SOLOMON, _Bible_ 71. WINTER BEAUTY, _Henry Ward Beecher_ 72. FROSTED TREES 73. THE MOUNTAINS OF LIFE, _James G. Clark_ 74. IMAGINARY EVILS, _Chas. Swain_ 75. SIR WALTER AND THE LION, _A. Walchner_ 76. CHOICE EXTRACTS I. WHAT REALLY BENEFITS US. II. GOD'S LOVE. III. LIFE-WORK. IV. HUMILITY. V. BENEFITS OF ADVERSITY. VI. OUR MOUNTAIN HOMES. VII. MAKE A BEGINNING. VIII. INFLUENCE. IX. PLEASURE IN ACQUIRING KNOWLEDGE. X. WHAT IS FAME? XI. CULTIVATED INTELLECT. XII. GOD'S WORKS ATTEST HIS GREATNESS. 77. CAPTURE OF THE WHALE 78. LEAVES FROM AN AERONAUT, _Willis Gaylord Clark_ 79. THE DAPPLE MARE, _John G. Saxe_ 80. A LEAP FOR LIFE, _George P. Morris_ 81. THE INDIAN BRIDE'S REVENGE, _Adapted. L. M. Stowell_ 82. A MOTHER'S LOVE, _Albert Barnes_ 83. THE LIFE-BOOK, _Home Journal_ 84. ODE ON SOLITUDE, _Pope_ 85. GETTING THE RIGHT START, _J. G. Holland_ 86. THE PRESUMPTION OF YOUTH, _Rollin_ 87. SONG OF THE AMERICAN EAGLE 88 THE ARMY OF REFORM, _Sarah Jane Lippincott_ 89. LAST CRUISE OF THE MONITOR, _Adapted. Grenville M. Weeks_ 90. DUTIES AND RESPONSIBILITIES OF WOMEN, _Gail Hamilton_ 91. SCENE FROM WILLIAM TELL, _J. Sheridan Knowles_ 92. THE RICH MAN AND THE POOR MAN, _Khemnitzer_ 93. GRANDEUR OF THE OCEAN, _Walter Colton_ 94. A BURIAL AT SEA, _Walter Colton_ 95. THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP, _Mrs. Hemans_ 96. THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS, _Thomas Hood_ 97. A REQUIEM 98. VISIT TO MOUNT VERNON, _A. C. Ritchie_ 99. LA FAYETTE, _Charles Sprague_ 100. THE MYSTIC WEAVER, _Rev. Dr. Harbaugh_ 101. WORK AWAY, _Harpers' Magazine_ 102. QUEEN ISABELLA'S RESOLVE, _Vinet_ 103. DISCOVERY OF THE NEW WORLD, _Lamartine_ 104. THE RETURN OF COLUMBUS, _Vinet_ 105. TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO, _Grenville Mellen_ 106. PRESS ON, _Park Benjamin_ 107. THE THREE FORMS OF NATURE, _From the French of Michelet_ 108. THE WHALE AND THE WHALER, _From the French of Michelet_ 109. RIENZI'S ADDRESS TO THE ROMANS, _Miss Mitford_ 110. SONG OF THE FORGE 111. CHOICE EXTRACTS I. SWIFTNESS OF TIME. II. THE SHIP OF STATE. III. THE TRUE HERO. IV. HEART ESSENTIAL TO GENIUS. V. EDUCATION. VI. VANITY OF WEALTH. VII. CONSOLATION OF THE GOSPEL. VIII. THE LIGHT OF HOPE. IX. PAMPERING THE BODY AND STARVING THE SOUL. 112. WE ALL DO FADE AS A LEAF, _Gail Hamilton_ 113. TEACHINGS OF NATURE, _Pollok_ 114. PASSING UNDER THE ROD, _Mary S. B. Dana_ 115. THE PETULANT MAN, _Osborne_ 116. THE BRAHMIN AND THE ROGUES, _Versified by J. N. McElligott_ 117. LIVING WITHIN OUR MEANS, _S. W. Partridge_ 118. GRANDEUR OF THE UNIVERSE, _O. M. Mitchel_ 119. "WHOM HAVE I IN HEAVEN BUT THEE?", _Pamelia S. Vining_ 120. THE MEMORY OF WASHINGTON, _Kossuth_ 121. THE LOST ONE'S LAMENT EXPLANATION OF THE PAUSES. . The Period is the longest pause--a full stop. It marks the end of asentence, and shows the sense complete; as, The sky is blue`. Pause thetime of counting _six_, and let the voice fall. ? The Interrogation is used at the end of a question; as, Is the skyblue'? If the question can be answered by _yes_ or _no_, the voicerises; if not, it falls; as, Where is your map`;? Pause the time ofcounting _six_. ! The Exclamation denotes wonder, surprise, pain, or joy; as, O'! what asweet rose`! Pause the time of counting _one_, after a single word, andlet the voice rise; but after a complete sentence, pause the time ofcounting _six_, and let the voice fall. : The Colon is a pause shorter than the Period; as, The sky is clear`: thesun shines. Pause the time of counting _four_, and let the voice fall. ; The Semicolon is a pause shorter than the Colon; as, The rose is fair`;but it soon fades. Pause the time of counting _two_, and let the voicefall. Sometimes the voice should rise, as the sense may require. , The Comma is the shortest pause; as, Jane goes to school', and learns toread. Pause the time of counting _one_, and keep the voice up. -- The Dash denotes a sudden pause or change of subject; as, I saw him--butwhat a sight! When the dash is used after any other pause, the time ofthat pause is doubled. * * * * * EXPLANATION OF OTHER MARKS. ' The Apostrophe has the form of the comma. It denotes the possessivecase; as, John's book; also, that one or more letters have been left outof a word; as, lov'd for loved. " " The Quotation includes a passage that is taken from some other author orspeaker; as, John said: "See my kite. " ( ) The Parenthesis includes words not properly a part of the main sentence;as, I like these people (who would not?) very much. The words within theparenthesis should be read in a lower tone of voice. [ ] The Brackets inclose words that serve to explain the preceding word orsentence; as, James [the truthful boy] went home. ^ The Caret shows where words are to be put in that have been omitted bymistake; as, Live ^in peace. (.. ) The Diaresis is placed over the latter of two vowels, to show that theybelong to two distinct syllables; as, aerial. - The Hyphen is used to connect compound words; as, Well-doing; or theparts of a word separated at the end of a line. [Index] The Index points to something special or remarkable; as, => ImportantNews! *** .... Or ---- The Ellipsis shows that certain words or letters have been purposelyomitted; as, K**g, k.. G, or k--g, for king. [Paragraph] The Paragraph denotes the beginning of a new subject. It is chiefly usedin the Bible; as, [Paragraph] The same day came to him, etc. [Section] The Section is used to divide a book or chapter into parts; as, [Section]45. * [Obelisk] [Double Dagger] The Asterisk, the Obelisk, the Double Dagger, and sometimes other marks, [Footnote: For instance: the Section mark, [Section], and the Parallel, ||. ] refer to notes in the margin. APPLICATIONS OF THE MARKS USED IN WRITING. LINE 1 My Young Friends', never tell a falsehood`; but always 2 speak the truth`; this is pleasing to your Maker. 3 Do you read His holy word--the Bible'? O! remem- 4 ber, that He has there said: "He that speaketh lies, shall 5 not escape: he shall perish. "* Remember, too, that the 6 All-seeing God knows all that we say or do. 7 [Paragraph] Tho' wisdom's voice is seldom heard in k--g's 8 palaces, --there have been _wise_ kings, (_e. G. _ Solomon, ) who 9 were lov'd and obey'd by their subjects. [Obelisk] 10 Here, [i. E. In the U. S. , ] we can not boast of our kings, 11 princes, lords, &c. ; yet we have had a PRESIDENT, who, 12 in true greatness, surpass'ed them all; viz. , the great 13 WASHINGTON. ---- [Index] Washington feared and hon- 14 ored God. 15 [S] Section, [/=] Double Dagger, and || Parallel, are also used 16 for reference to the margin. * * * * * * Proverbs xix. 5 and 9. [Obelisk] 1 Kings. PART FIRST. ELOCUTION. Elocution is the art of delivering written or extemporaneous compositionwith force, propriety, and ease. It deals, therefore, with words, not only as individuals, but as membersof a sentence, and parts of a connected discourse: including every thingnecessary to the just expression of the sense. Accordingly, it demands, in a _special_ manner, attention to the following particulars; viz. , ARTICULATION, ACCENT, EMPHASIS, INFLECTION, MODULATION, and PAUSES. * * * * * SECTION I. ARTICULATION. Articulation is the art of uttering distinctly and justly the lettersand syllables constituting a word. It deals, therefore, with the elements of words, just as elocution dealswith the elements of sentences: the one securing the true enunciation ofeach letter, or combination of letters, the other giving to each word, or combination of words, such a delivery as best expresses the meaningof the author. It is the basis of all good reading, and should becarefully practiced by the learner. ELEMENTARY SOUNDS OF THE LETTERS. VOWEL SOUNDS. TONICS. _Element_. _Power_. 1. --1 A as in _A_pe. 2. --2 A " _A_rm. 3. --3 A " _A_ll. 4. --4 A " _A_t. 5. --5 A " C_a_re. 6. --6 A " _A_sk. 7. --1 E " _E_ve. 8. --2 E " _E_nd. 9. --1 I " _I_ce. 10. --2 I " _I_t. 11. --1 O " _O_ld. 12. --2 O " D_o_. 13. --3 O " _O_x. 14. --1 U " _U_se. 15. --2 U " _U_p. 16. --3 U " P_u_ll. 17. --OI " O_i_l. 18. --OU " O_u_t. CONSONANT SOUNDS. SUB-TONICS. 19. --B as in _B_at. 20. --D " _D_un. 21. --G " _G_un. 22. --J " _J_et. 23. --L " _L_et. 24. --M " _M_an. 25. --N " _N_ot. 26. --R " _R_un. 27. --V " _V_ent. 28. --W " _W_ent. 29. --Y " _Y_es. 30. --1 Z " _Z_eal. 31. --2 Z " A_z_ure. 32. --NG " Si_ng_. 33. --TH " _Th_y. A-TONICS. 34. --F as in _F_it. 35. --H " _H_at. 36. --K " _K_id. 36. --P " _P_it. 38. --S " _S_in. 39. --T " _T_op. 40. --CH " _Ch_at. 41. --SH " _Sh_un. 42. --TH " _Th_in. 43. --WH " _Wh_en. 21: Soft G is equivalent to J; soft C to S, and hard C and Q to K. X is equivalent to K and S, as in _box_, or to G and Z as in _exalt_. 42: WH is pronounced as if the H preceded W, otherwise it would be pronounced _W hen_. R should be slightly trilled before a vowel. For further instructions, see Sanders and Merrill's Elementary and Elocutionary Chart. SUBSTITUTES FOR THE VOWEL ELEMENTS. For Long A. _ai_ as in s_ai_l. _au_ " g_au_ge. _ay_ " l_ay_. _ea_ " gr_ea_t. _ei_ " d_ei_gn. _ey_ " th_ey_. For Flat A. _au_ as in d_au_nt. _ea_ " h_ea_rt. _ua_ " g_ua_rd. For Broad A. _au_ as in p_au_se. _aw_ " l_a_w. _eo_ " G_eo_rge. _oa_ " gr_oa_t. _o_ " h_o_rn. _ou_ " s_ou_ght. For Short A. _ai_ as in pl_ai_d. _ua_ " g_ua_ranty. For Intermediate A. _ai_ as in h_ai_r. _ea_ " b_ea_r. _e_ " wh_e_re. _ei_ " th_ei_r. For Long E. _ea_ as in w_ea_k. _ei_ " s_ei_ze. _eo_ " p_eo_ple. _ey_ " k_ey_. _ie_ " br_ie_f. _i_ " p_i_que. For Short E. _a_ as in _a_ny. _ai_ " s_ai_d. _ay_ " s_ay_s. _ea_ " d_ea_d. _ei_ " h_ei_fer. _eo_ " l_eo_pard. _ie_ " fr_ie_nd. _ue_ " g_ue_ss. _u_ " b_u_ry. For Long I. _ai_ as in _ai_sle. _ei_ " sl_ei_ght. _ey_ " _ey_e. _ie_ " d_ie_. _oi_ " ch_oi_r. _ui_ " g_ui_de. _uy_ " b_uy_. _y_ " tr_y_. For Short I. _e_ as in _E_nglish. _ee_ " b_ee_n. _ie_ " s_ie_ve. _o_ " w_o_men. _u_ " b_u_sy. _ui_ " b_ui_ld. _y_ " s_y_mbol. For Long O. _au_ as in h_au_tboy. _eau_ " b_eau_. _eo_ " y_eo_man. _ew_ " s_ew_. _oa_ " b_oa_t. _oe_ " h_oe_. _ou_ " s_ou_l. _ow_ " fl_o_w. For Long Slender O. _oe_ as in sh_oe_. _ou_ " s_ou_p. For Short O. _a_ as in w_a_s. _ou_ " h_ou_gh. _ow_ " kn_ow_ledge. For Long U. _eau_ as in b_eau_ty. _eu_ " f_eu_d. _ew_ " d_ew_. _ieu_ " ad_ieu_. _ou_ " y_ou_r. _ue_ " c_ue_. _ui_ " s_ui_t. For Short U. _e_ as in h_e_r. _i_ " s_i_r. _oe_ " d_oe_s. _o_ " l_o_ve. _ou_ " y_ou_ng. For Short Slender U. _o_ as in w_o_lf. _ou_ " w_ou_ld. For the Diphthong OI. _oy_ as in j_oy_. For the Diphthong OU. _ow_ as in n_ow_. There is no pure Triphthongal sound in the language. _Buoy_ isequivalent to _bwoy_. _U_ being a consonant. SUBSTITUTES FOR THE CONSONANT ELEMENTS. F. _gh_ as in lau_gh_. _ph_ " s_ph_ere. J. _g_ " _g_em. K. _c_ " _c_an. _ch_ " _ch_ord. _gh_ " hou_gh_. _q_ " _q_uit. S. _c_ " _c_ent. T. _d_ " face_d_. _phth_ " _phth_isic. V. _f_ " o_f_. _ph_ " Ste_ph_en. Y. _i_ " val_i_ant. 1 Z. _c_ " suffi_c_e. _s_ " wa_s_. _x_ " _X_erxes. 2 Z. _s_ " trea_s_ure. _z_ " a_z_ure. _si_ " fu_si_on. _zi_ " gla_zi_er. NG. _n_ " co_n_ch. SH. _ce_ " o_ce_an. _ci_ " so_ci_al. _ch_ " _ch_aise. _si_ " pen_si_on. _s_ " _s_ure. _ss_ " i_ss_ue. _ti_ " no_ti_on. CH. _ti_ " fus_ti_an. B, D, G, H, L, M, N, P, and R, have no substitutes. The most common faults in ARTICULATION are I. _The suppression of a syllable; as, _ cab'n for cab-_i_n. Cap'n " cap-_tai_n. Barr'l " bar-r_e_l. Ev'ry " ev-_e_-ry. Hist'ry " his-t_o_-ry reg'lar " reg-_u_-lar. Sev'ral " sev-_e_r-al. Rhet'ric " rhet-_o_-ric. Mem'ry " mem-_o_-ry. Jub'lee " ju-b_i_-lee. Trav'ler " trav-_e_l-er. Fam'ly " fam-_i_-ly. Vent'late " ven-t_i_-late. Des'late " des-_o_-late. Prob'ble " prob-_a_-ble. Par-tic'lar " par-tic-_u_-lar. II. _The omission of any sound properly belonging to a word; as, _ read-in for read-in_g_. Swif-ly " swif_t_-ly. Com-mans " com-man_d_s. Wam-er " wa_r_m-er. Um-ble " _h_um-ble. Ap-py " _h_ap-py. Con-sis " con-sis_t_s. Fa-t'l " fa-tal. Pr'-tect " pr_o_-tect. B'low " b_e_-low. P'r-vade " p_e_r-vade. Srink-in " s_h_rink-in_g_. Th'if-ty " th_r_if-ty. As-ter-is " as-ter-is_k_. Gov-er-ment " gov-er_n_-ment. Feb-u-ary " Feb-_r_u-a-ry. III. _The substitution of one sound for another; as, _ _uf_-ford for _a_f-ford. Wil-l_e_r " wil-lo_w_. Sock-_i_t " sock-_et_. Fear-l_u_ss " fear-l_e_ss. Cul-t_e_r " cult-_u_re. Prod-u_x_ " prod-u_cts_. Judg-m_u_nt " judg-m_e_nt. Chil-dr_i_n " chil-dr_e_n. Mod-_i_st " mod-_e_st. _u_p-prove " _a_p-prove. _w_in-e-gar " _v_in-e-gar. Sep-_e_-rate " sep-_a_-rate. Temp-er-_i_t " tem-per-_a_te. Croc-_e_r-dile " croc-_o_-dile. T_u_b-ac-c_u_r " t_o_-bac-c_o_. Com-pr_u_m-ise " com-pr_o_-mise. IV. Produce the sounds denoted by the following combinations ofconsonants:-- Let the pupil first produce the sound of the letters, and then the wordor words in which they occur. Be careful to give a clear and distinctenunciation to every letter. 1. _Bd_, as in ro_b'd_; _bdst_, pro_b'dst_; _bl_, _bl_ and, a_bl_e; _bld_, hum-_bl'd; bldst_, trou_bl'dst_; _blst_, trou_bl'st; blz_, crum_bles; br_, _br_and; _bz_, ri_bs_. 2. _Ch_, as in _ch_ur_ch; cht_, fet_ch'd_. 3. _Dj_, as in e_dg_e; _djd_, he_dg'd; dl_, bri_dle; dld_, rid_dl'd; dlst_, han_dl'st_; _dlz_, bun_dles; dn_, har_d'n; dr_, _dr_ove; _dth_, wi_dth; dths_, brea_dths; dz_, o_dds_. 4. _Fl_, as in _fl_ame; _fld_, ri_fl'd_; _flst_, sti_fl'st_; _flx_, ri_fles_; _fr_, _fr_om; _fs_, qua_ffs_, lau_ghs_; _fst_, lau_gh'st_, qua_ff'st_; _ft_, ra_ft_; _fts_, wa_fts; ftst_, gr_ft'st_. 5. _Gd_, as in beg_g'd_; _gdst_, brag_g'dst; gl_, _gl_ide; _gld_, strug_gl'd; gldst_, hag_gl'dst; gist_, stran_gl'st; glz_, min_gles; gr, gr_ove; _gst_, beg_g'st; gz_, fi_gs_. 6. _Kl_, as in un_cle_, an_kle_; _kld_, trick_l'd; kldst_, truck_l'dst; klst_, chuc_kl'st; klz_, wrin_kles; kn_, blac_k'n; knd_, rec_k'n'd; kndst_, rec_k'n'dst; knst_, blac_k'n'st; knz_, rec_k'ns; kr, cr_ank; _ks_, chec_ks; kt_, a_ct_. 7. _Lb_, as in bu_lb_; _lbd_, bu_lb'd; lbs_, bu_lbs; lch_, fi_lch; lcht_, be_lch'd; ld_, ho_ld; ldst_, fo_ld'st; ldz_, ho_lds; lf_, se_lf; lfs_, gu_lfs; lj_, bu_lge; lk_, e_lk; lks_, si_lks; lkt_, mi_lk'd; lkts_, mu_lcts; lm_, e_lm; lmd_, whel_m'd; lmz_, fi_lms; ln_, fa_ll'n;_ _lp_, he_lp_; _lps_, sca_lps_; _lpst_, _help'st_; _ls_, fa_lse_; _lst_, ca_ll'st_; _lt_, me_lt_; _lth_, hea_lth_; _lths_, stea_lths_; _lts_, co_lts_; _lv_, de_lve_; _lvd_, she_lv'd_; _lvz_, el_ves_; _lz_, ha_lls_. 8. _Md_, as in doo_m'd_; _mf_, triu_mph_; _mp_, he_mp_; _mpt_, te_mpt_; _mpts_, atte_mpts_; _mst_, ento_mb'st_; _mz_, to_mbs_. 9. _Nch_, as in be_nch_; _ncht_, pi_nch'd_; _nd_, a_nd_; _ndst_, e_nd'st_; _ndz_, e_nds_; _ng_, su_ng_; _ngd_, ba_nged_; _ngth_, le_ngth_; _ngz_, so_ngs_; _nj_, ra_nge_; _njd_, ra_ng'd_; _nk_, i_nk_; _nks_, ra_nks_; _nkst_, tha_nk'st_; _nst_, wi_ne'd_; _nt_, se_nt_; _nts_, re_nts_; _ntst_, we_nt'st_; _nz_, ru_ns_. 10. _Pl_, as in _pl_ume; _pld_, rip_pl'd_; _plst_, rip_pl'st_; _plz_, ap_ples_; _pr_, _pr_ince; _ps_, si_ps_; _pst_, rap_p'st_; _pt_, rip_p'd_. 11. _Rb_, as in he_rb_; _rch_, sea_rch_; _rcht_, chu_rch'd_; _rbd_, o_rbd_; _rbdst_, ba_rb'dst_; _rbst_, distu_rb'st_; _rbz_, o_rbs_; _rd_, ha_rd_; _rdst_, hea_rd'st_; _rdz_, wo_rds_; _rf_, tu_rf_; _rft_, sca_rfd_; _rg_, bu_rg_; _rgz_, bu_rgs_; _rj_, di_rge_; _rjd_, u_rg'd_; _rk_, a_rk_; _rks_, a_rks_; _rkst_, wo_rk'st_; _rkt_, di_rk'd_; _rktst_, emba_rk'dst_; _rl_, gi_rl_; _rld_, wo_rld_; _rldst_, hu_rld'st_; _rlst_, whi_rl'st_; _rlz_, hu_rls_; _rm_, a_rm_; _rmd_, a_rm'd_; _rmdst_, ha_rm'dst_; _rmst_, a_rm'st_; _rmz_, cha_rms_; _rn_, tu_rn_; _rnd_, tu_rn'd_; _rndst_, ea_rn'dst_; _rnst_, lea_rn'st_; _rnz_, u_rns_; _rp_, ca_rp_; _rps_, ha_rps_; _rpt_, wa_rp'd_; _rs_, ve_rs_e; _rsh_, ha_rsh_; _rst_, fi_rst_; _rsts_, bu_rsts_; _rt_, da_rt_; _rth_, ea_rth_; _rths_, bi_rths_; _rts_, ma_rts_; _rtst_, da_rt'st_; _rv_, cu_rve_; _rvd_, ne_rv'd_; _rvdst_, cu_rv'dst_; _rvst_, swe_rv'st_; _rvz_, ne_rves_; _rz_, e_rrs_. 12. _Sh_, as in _sh_ip; _sht_, hu_sh'd_; _sk_, _sc_an, _sk_ip; _sks_, tu_sks_; _skst_, fri_sk'st_; _skt_, ri_sk'd_; _sl_, _sl_ow; _sld_, ne_stl'd_; _slz_, we_stles_; _sm_, _sm_ile; _sn_, _sn_ag; _sp_, _sp_ort; _sps_, li_sps_; _spt_, cla_sp'd_; _st_, _st_ag; _str_, _str_ike; _sts_, re_sts_; _sw_, _sw_ing. 13. _Th_, as in _th_ine, _th_in; _thd_, brea_th'd_; _thr_, _thr_ee; _thst_, brea_th'st_; _thw_, _thw_ack; _thz_, wri_thes_; _tl_, ti_tle_; _tld_, set_tl'd_; _tldst_, set_tl'dst_; _tlst_, set_tl'st_; _tlz_, net_tles_; _tr_, _tr_uuk; _ts_, fi_ts_; _tw_, _tw_irl. 14. _Vd_, as in cur_v'd_; _vdst_, li_v'dst_; _vl_, dri_v'l_; _vld_, gro_v'l'd_; _vldst_, gro_v'l'dst_; _vlst_, dri_v'l'st_; _un_, dri_v'n_; _vst_, li_v'st_; _vz_, li_ves_. 15. _Wh_, as in _wh_en, _wh_ere. 16. _Zd_, as in mu_s'd_; _zl_, daz_zle_; _zld_, muz_zl'd_; _zldst_, daz_zl'dst_; _zlst_, daz_zl'st_; _zlz_, muz_zles_; _zm_, spa_sm_; _zmz_, cha_sms_; _zn_, ri_s'n_; _znd_, rea_s'n'd_; _znz_, pri_s'nz_; _zndst_, impri_s'n'dst_. V. Avoid blending the termination of one word with the beginning ofanother, or suppressing the final letter or letters of one word, whenthe next word commences with a similar sound. EXAMPLES. His small eyes instead of His small lies. She keeps pies " She keeps spies. His hour is up " His sour is sup. Dry the widow's tears " Dry the widow steers. Your eyes and ears " Your rise sand dears. He had two small eggs " He had two small legs. Bring some ice cream " Bring some mice scream. Let all men praise Him " Let tall men pray sim. He was killed in war " He was skilled in war. Water, air, and earth " Water rare rand dearth. Come and see me once more " Come mand see me one smore. NOTE. --By an indistinct Articulation the sense of a passage is oftenliable to be perverted. EXAMPLES. 1. Will he attempt to conceal hi_s acts?_ Will he attempt to conceal hi_s sacks?_ 2. The man ha_d o_ars to row he_r o_ver. The man ha_d d_oors to row he_r r_over. 3. Can there be a_n a_im more lofty? Can there be _a n_ame more lofty? 4. The judge_s o_ught to arrest the culprits. The judge_s s_ought to arrest the culprits. 5. Hi_s i_re burned when she told him he_r a_ge. Hi_s s_ire burned when she told him he_r r_age. 6. He wa_s a_wed at the works of labor a_nd a_rt. He wa_s s_awed at the works of labor a_n d_art. 7. He wa_s tr_ained in the religion of his fathers. He wa_s st_rained in the religion of his fathers. MISCELLANEOUS EXAMPLES. 1. _Br_avely o'er _th_e _b_oi_st_e_r_ous _b_i_ll_ow_s_, _H_is _g_a_ll_a_nt_ _b_a_rk_ _w_a_s_ _b_o_rn_e. 2. _C_a_n_ _cr_a_v_e_n_ _c_owa_rds_ e_x_pe_ct_ to _c_o_nq_ue_r_ _th_e _c_ou_ntr_y? 3. _Cl_i_ck_, _cl_i_ck_, _g_oe_s_ _th_e _cl_o_ck_; _cl_a_ck_, _cl_a_ck_, _g_oe_s_ _th_e _m_i_ll_. 4. _D_i_d_ _y_ou _d_esi_r_e to _h_ea_r_ _h_i_s_ _d_a_rk_ a_nd_ _d_o_l_e_f_u_l_ _dr_ea_ms_? 5. "_F_ir_m_-_p_a_c_e_d_ a_nd_ _sl_ow, a _h_o_rr_i_d_ _fr_o_nt_ _th_ey _form_, _St_i_ll_ a_s_ _th_e _br_ee_ze_; _b_u_t_ _dr_ea_df_u_l_ a_s_ _th_e _st_or_m_. " 6. _Th_e _fl_a_m_i_ng_ _f_i_r_e _fl_a_sh_ed _f_ea_rf_u_ll_y i_n_ _h_i_s_ _f_a_c_e. 7. _Th_e _gl_a_ss_y _gl_a_ci_e_rs_ _gl_ea_m_e_d_ i_n_ _gl_owi_ng_ _l_igh_t_. 8. _H_ow _h_igh _h_i_s_ ho_n_o_rs_ _h_ea_v_e_d_ _h_i_s_ _h_augh_t_y _h_ea_d_! 9. _H_e _dr_ew _l_o_ng_, _l_e_g_i_bl_e _lin_e_s_ a_l_o_ng_ _th_e _l_ove_l_y _l_a_ndsc_a_p_e. 10. _M_a_ss_e_s_ of i_mm_e_ns_e _m_a_gn_i_t_u_d_e _m_o_v_e _m_a_j_e_st_i_c_a_ll_y _thr_ough _th_e _v_a_st_ e_mp_i_r_e of _th_e _s_o_l_a_r_ _s_y_st_e_m_. 11. _R_ou_nd_ _th_e _r_ou_gh_ a_nd_ _r_u_gg_e_d_ _r_o_cks_ _th_e _r_a_gg_e_d_ _r_a_sc_a_l_ _r_a_n_. 12. _Th_e _str_i_pl_i_ng_ _str_a_ng_e_r_ _str_aye_d_ _str_aigh_t_ _to_wa_rd_ _th_e _str_u_ggl_i_ng_ _str_ea_m_. 13. _Sh_e u_tt_e_r_e_d_ a _sh_a_rp_, _shr_i_ll_ _shr_ie_k_, a_nd_ _th_e_n_ _shr_u_nk_ _fr_o_m_ _th_e _shr_i_v_e_l_e_d_ _f_o_rm_ _th_a_t_ _sl_u_mb_e_r_e_d_ i_n_ _th_e _shr_ou_d_. 14. _F_or _f_ear o_f_ o_ff_ending _th_e _fr_ight_f_ul fugitive, _th_e _v_i_l_e _v_a_g_a_b_o_nd_ _v_e_nt_u_r_e_d_ _t_o _v_i_l_i_fy_ _th_e _v_e_n_e_r_a_bl_e _v_e_t_e_r_a_n_. 15. A_midst_ _th_e _m_i_sts_, _w_i_th_ a_ngr_y _b_oa_sts_, _H_e _thr_u_sts_ _h_i_s_ _f_i_sts_ a_g_ai_nst_ _th_e _p_o_sts_, A_nd_ _st_i_ll_ i_ns_i_sts_ _h_e _s_ee_s_ _th_e _g_ho_sts_. 16. Peter Prangle, the prickly prangly pear picker, picked three pecks of prickly prangly pears, from the prangly pear trees, on the pleasant prairies. 17. Theophilus Thistle, the successful thistle sifter, in sifting a sieve full of unsifted thistles, thrust three thousand thistles through the thick of his thumb; now, if Theophilus Thistle, the successful thistle sifter, in sifting a sieve full of unsifted thistles, thrust three thousand thistles through the thick of _his_ thumb, see that _thou_, in sifting a sieve full of unsifted thistles, thrust not three thousand thistles through the thick of _thy_ thumb. Success to the successful thistle sifter. 18. We travel _sea_ and _soil_; we _pry_, we _prowl_; We _progress_, and we _prog_ from _pole_ to _pole_. SECTION II. ACCENT AND EMPHASIS. ACCENT and EMPHASIS both indicate some special stress of voice. Accent is that stress of voice by which one _syllable_ of a word is mademore prominent than others; EMPHASIS is that stress of voice by whichone or more _words_ of a sentence are distinguished above the rest. ACCENT. The accented syllable is sometimes designated thus: ('); as, _com-mand'-ment_. NOTE I. --Words of more than two syllables generally have two or more ofthem accented. The more forcible stress of voice, is called the _Primary Accent_; andthe less forcible, the _Secondary Accent_. EXAMPLES OF PRIMARY AND SECONDARY ACCENT. In the following examples the Primary Accent is designated by doubleaccentual marks, thus: _Ed''-u-cate'_, _ed'-u-ca''-tion_, _mul''-ti-ply'_, _mul'-ti-pli-ca''-tion_, _sat''-is-fy'_, _sat'-is-fac''-tion_, _com'-pre-hend''_, _com'-pre-hen''-sion_, _rec'-om-mend''_, _rec'-om-mend-a''-tion_, _mo''-ment-a'-ry_, _com-mun''-ni-cate'_, _com'-pli-ment''-al_, _in-dem'-ni-fi-ca''-tion_, _ex'-tem-po-ra''-ne-ous_, _coun'-ter-rev'-o-lu''-tion-a-ry_. NOTE II. --The change of accent on the same word often changes itsmeaning. EXAMPLES. col'-league, _a partner_. Col-league', _to unite with_. Con'-duct, _behavior_. Con-duct', _to lead_. Des'-cant, _a song or tune_. Des-cant', _to comment_. Ob'-ject, _ultimate purpose_. Ob-ject', _to oppose_. In'-ter-dict, _a prohibition_. In-ter-dict', _to forbid_. O'ver-throw, _ruin; defeat_. O-ver-throw', _to throw down_. NOTE III. --Emphatic words are often printed in _Italics_. When, however, different degrees of emphasis are to be denoted, the higher degrees aredesignated by the use of Capitals, LARGER or SMALLER, according to thedegree of intensity. EXAMPLES. 1. Our motto shall be, _our country_, OUR WHOLE COUNTRY, and NOTHING BUTOUR COUNTRY. 2. _Thou Child of Joy!_ SHOUT round me: let me HEAR _thy shouts, thouhappy Shepherd Boy!_ 3. Freedom calls you! _quick_, be ready, Think of what your sires have done; _Onward_, ONWARD! strong and steady, Drive the tyrant to his den; ON, and let the watchword be, _Country_, HOME, and LIBERTY. NOTE IV. --Emphasis, as before intimated, varies in degrees of intensity. EXAMPLES OF INTENSIVE EMPHASIS. 1. He shook the fragment of his blade, And shouted: "VICTORY! _Charge_, Chester, CHARGE! _On_, Stanley, ON!" 2. A _month!_ O, for a single WEEK! I as not for _years'_, though an AGE were _too little_ for the _much_ I have to do. 3. _Now_ for the FIGHT! _now_ for the CANNON PEAL! ONWARD! through _blood_, and _toil_, and _cloud_, and _fire!_ _Glorious_--the SHOUT, the SHOCK, the CRASH of STEEL, The VOLLEY'S ROLL, the ROCKET'S BLAZING SPIRE! 4. Hear, O HEAVENS! and give ear, O EARTH! NOTE V. --Emphasis sometimes changes the seat of accent from its ordinaryposition. EXAMPLES. There is a difference between _pos'_sibility and _prob'_ability. Andbehold, the angels of God _as'_cending and _de'_scending on it. For thiscorruptible must put on _in'_corruption, and this mortal must put on_im'_mortality. Does his conduct deserve _ap'_probation or_rep'_robation? NOTE VI. --There are two kinds of Emphasis:--_Absolute_ and _Antithetic_. ABSOLUTE EMPHASIS is used to designate the important words of asentence, without any direct reference to other words. EXAMPLES OF ABSOLUTE EMPHASIS. 1. Oh, speak to passion's raging tide, _Speak_ and _say_: "PEACE, BE STILL!" 2. The UNION, it MUST and SHALL BE PRESERVED! 3. HUSH! _breathe it not aloud_, _The wild winds must not hear it! Yet, again_, _I tell thee_--WE ARE FREE! KNOWLES. 4. When my country shall take her place among the nations of the earth, THEN and not TILL then, let my epitaph be written. EMMETT. 5. If you are MEN, _follow_ ME! STRIKE DOWN _yon guard, and gain the mountain passes. _ 6. OH! _shame on us_, countrymen, SHAME _on us_ ALL, If we CRINGE to so dastard a race. 7. This doctrine _never was received_; it NEVER CAN, _by any_ POSSIBILITY, BE RECEIVED; and, if admitted at ALL, it _must be by_ THE TOTAL SUBVERSION OF LIBERTY! 8. Are you _Christians_, and, by upholding duelists, will you _deluge the land with blood_, and _fill it with widows and orphans. _ BEECHER. 9. LIBERTY _and_ UNION, NOW _and_ FOREVER, ONE _and_ INSEPARABLE. WEBSTER. 10. _Treason!_ cried the speaker; _treason_, TREASON, TREASON, reechoed from every part of the house. 11. _The war is inevitable_, --and LET IT COME! I repeat it, Sir, --LET IT COME! PATRICK HENRY. 12. Be we _men_, And suffer such dishonor? MEN, and wash not The stain away in BLOOD? MISS MITFORD. 13. O SACRED FORMS! how _proud_ you look! How _high_ you lift your heads into the sky! How _huge_ you are! how _mighty_ and how _free_! KNOWLES. 14. I shall know but _one_ country. The ends _I_ aim at, shall be "My COUNTRY'S, my GOD'S, and TRUTH'S. " WEBSTER. NOTE VII. --ANTITHETIC EMPHASIS is that which is founded on the contrastof one word or clause with another. EXAMPLES OF ANTITHETIC EMPHASIS. 1. The faults of _others_ should always remind us of our _own_. 2. He desired to _protect_ his friend, not to _injure_ him. 3. But _yesterday_, the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world; _now_ lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence. SHAKESPEARE. 4. A _good name_ is rather to be chosen than _great riches_. BIBLE. 5. We can do nothing _against_ the truth; but _for_ the truth. BIBLE. 6. He that is _slow to anger_, is better than the _mighty_; and he that _ruleth his spirit_, than he that _taketh a city_. BIBLE. NOTE VIII. --The following examples contain two or more sets ofAntitheses. 1. _Just men_ are only _free_, the _rest_ are _slaves_. 2. _Beauty_ is like the _flower of spring; virtue_ is like the _stars of heaven_. 3. _Truth_ crushed to earth shall _rise_ again, The eternal years of God are hers; But _error_, wounded, _writhes_ in pain, And _dies_ amid her worshipers. BRYANT. 4. A _false balance_ is _abomination to the Lord_; but a _just weight_ is _his delight_. BIBLE. 5. A _friend_ can not be _known_ in _prosperity;_ and an _enemy_ can not be _hidden_ in _adversity_. 6. It is my _living sentiment_, and, by the blessing of God, it shall be my _dying sentiment:_ INDEPENDENCE NOW, and INDEPENDENCE FOREVER. WEBSTER. 7. We live in _deeds_, not _years_, --in _thoughts_, not _breaths_, --in _feelings_, not in _figures on a dial_. We should count time by _heart throbs_. He _most lives_, who THINKS THE MOST, --FEELS THE NOBLEST, --ACTS THE BEST. 8. _You_ have done the _mischief_, and _I_ bear the _blame_. 9. The _wise man_ is happy when he gains his _own_ approbation; the _fool_ when he gains that of _others_. 10. We must hold _them_ as we hold the _rest_ of mankind--_enemies_ in _war_, --in _peace, friends_. JEFFERSON. NOTE IX. --The sense of a passage is varied by changing the place of theemphasis. EXAMPLES. 1. Has _James_ seen his brother to-day? No; but _Charles_ has. 2. Has James _seen_ his brother to-day? No; but he has _heard_ from him. 3. Has James seen _his_ brother to-day? No; but he saw _yours_. 4. Has James seen his _brother_ to-day? No; but he has seen his _sister_. 5. Has James seen his brother _to-day_? No; but he saw him _yesterday_. REMARK. --To determine the emphatic words of a sentence, as well as the_degree_ and _kind_ of emphasis to be employed, the reader must begoverned wholly by the _sentiment_ to be expressed. The idea issometimes entertained that emphasis consists merely in _loudness_ oftone. But it should be borne in mind that the most _intense_ emphasismay often be effectively expressed, even by a whisper. SECTION III. INFLECTIONS. INFLECTIONS are turns or slides of the voice, made in reading orspeaking; as; Will you go to New [Transcriber's Note: Two missing linesin printing, page 25 in original. ] or to [Transcriber's Note: Remainderof paragraph is missing. ] All the various sounds of the human voice may be comprehended under thegeneral appellation of _tones_. The principal modifications of thesetones are the MONOTONE, the RISING INFLECTION, the FALLING INFLECTION, and the CIRCUMFLEX. The Horizontal Line (--) denotes the Monotone. The Rising Slide (/) denotes the Rising Inflection. The Falling Slide (\) denotes the Falling Inflection. The Curve (\_/) denotes the Circumflex. The MONOTONE is that sameness of sound, which arises from repeating theseveral words or syllables of a passage in one and the same generaltone. REMARK. --The Monotone is employed with admirable effect in the deliveryof a passage that is solemn or sublime. EXAMPLES. 1. O thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers: whenceare thy beams, O sun, thy everlasting light? OSSIAN. 2. 'Tis midnight's holy hour, and silence now Is brooding, like a gentle spirit, o'er The still and pulseless world. Hark! on the winds The bells' deep tones are swelling; 'tis the knell Of the departed year. PRENTICE. 3. God came from Teman, and the Holy One from Mount Paran. Selah. Hisglory covered the heavens, and the earth was full of His praise. 4. Before Him went the pestilence, and burning coals went forth at Hisfeet. He stood and measured the earth: He beheld, and drove asunder thenations; and the everlasting mountains were scattered, the perpetualhills did bow: His ways are everlasting. BIBLE. 5. The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth Hishandy work. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showethknowledge. There is no speech nor language, where their voice is notheard. ID. 6. How brief is life! how passing brief! How brief its joys and cares! It seems to be in league with time, And leaves us unawares. 7. The thunder rolls: be hushed the prostrate world, While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn. THOMSON. REMARK. --The inappropriate use of the monotone, --a fault into whichyoung people naturally fall, --is a very grave and obstinate error. It isalways tedious, and often even ridiculous. It should be studiouslyavoided. The RISING INFLECTION is an upward turn, or slide of the voice, used inreading or speaking; as, s? n/ o/ s/ s/ e/ Are you prepared to recite your l/ The FALLING INFLECTION is a downward turn, or slide of the voice, usedin reading or speaking; as, \d \o \i \n What are you \g? In the falling inflection, the voice should not sink below the _generalpitch_; but in the rising inflection, it is raised above it. The two inflections may be illustrated by the following diagrams: 1. \i \m y, \p \p l/ \r \r t/ \u \u n/ \d \d e/ \e \e d/ \n \n u/ \t \t r/ \l \l Did he act p/ or \y? He acted \y. 2. \u \n y, \w \w l/ \i \i g/ \l \l n/ \l \l i/ \i \i l/ \n \n l/ \g \g i/ \l \l Did they go w/ or \y? They went \y. 3. R, e/ h/ g/ i/ If the flight of Dryden is h/ Pope continues longer on the r, e/ t/ h/ \w g/ \i i/ \n r/ \g. If the blaze of Dryden's fire is b/ the heat of Pope's is \c \o \n \s \t \a \n more regular and \t. 4. Is honor's lofty soul forever fled'? Is virtue lost'? Is martial ardor dead'? Is there no heart where worth and valor dwell'? No patriot WALLACE'? No undaunted TELL'? Yes`, Freedom, yes`! thy sons, a noble band, Around thy banner, firm, exulting stand`. REMARK. --The same _degree_ of inflection is not, at all times, used, orindicated by the notation. The due degree to be employed, depends on the_nature_ of what is to be expressed. For example; if a person, undergreat excitement, asks another: t? s e n r a Are you in e the degree of inflection would be much greater, t? s e n r a than if he playfully asks: Are you in e The former inflection may be called _intensive_, the latter, _common_. RULES FOR THE USE OF INFLECTIONS. RULE I. Direct questions, or those which may be answered by _yes_ or _no_, usually take the rising inflection; but their answers, generally, thefalling. EXAMPLES. 1. Will you meet me at the depot'? Yes`; or, I will`. 2. Did you intend to visit Boston'? No`; or, I did not`. 3. Can you explain this difficult sentence'? Yes`; I can. 4. Are they willing to remain at home'? They are`. 5. Is this a time for imbecility and inaction'? By no means`. 6. King Agrippa, believest thou the prophets'? I know that thoubelievest`. 7. Were the tribes of this country, when first discovered, making anyprogress in arts and civilization'? By no means`. 8. To purchase heaven has gold the power'? Can gold remove the mortal hour'? In life, can love be bought with gold'? Are friendship's pleasures to be sold'? No`; all that's worth a wish, a thought, Fair virtue gives unbribed, unbought. 9. What would content you`? Talents'? No`. Enterprise'? No`. Courage'?No`. Reputation'? No`. Virtue'? No`. The man whom you would select, should possess not one, but all of these`. NOTE I. --When the direct question becomes an appeal, and the reply to itis anticipated, it takes the intense _falling_ inflection. EXAMPLES. 1. _Is_` he not a bold and eloquent speaker`? 2. _Can_` such inconsistent measures be adopted`? 3. _Did_` you ever hear of such cruel barbarities`? 4. _Is_ this reason`? _Is_` it law`? _Is_ it humanity`? 5. _Was_` not the gentleman's argument conclusive`? RULE II. Indirect questions, or those which can not be answered by _yes_ or _no_, usually take the _falling_ inflection, and their answers the same. 1. How far did you travel yesterday`? Forty miles`. 2. Which of you brought this beautiful bouquet`? Julia`. 3. Where do you intend to spend the summer`? At Saratoga`. 4. When will Charles graduate at college`? Next year`. 5. What is one of the most delightful emotions of the heart`? Gratitude`. NOTE I. --When the indirect question is one asking a repetition of whatwas not, at first, understood, it takes the _rising_ inflection. EXAMPLES. 1. When do you expect to return? Next week. When_ did you say'? Next week. 2. _Where_ did you say William had gone'? To New York. NOTE II. --Answers to questions, whether direct or indirect, whenexpressive of indifference, take the _rising_ inflection, or thecircumflex. EXAMPLES. 1. Did you admire his discourse? Not much'. 2. Which way shall we walk? I am not particular'. 3. Can Henry go with us? If he chooses'. 4. What color do you prefer? I have no particular choice'. NOTE III. --In some instances, direct questions become indirect by achange of the inflection from the rising to the falling. EXAMPLES. 1. Will you come to-morrow' or next day'? Yes. 2. Will you come to-morrow, ' or next day`? I will come to-morrow. REMARK. --The first question asks if the person addressed will _come_within the two days, and may be answered by _yes_ or _no_; but thesecond asks on _which_ of the two days he will come, and it can not bethus answered. RULE III. When questions are connected by the conjunction _or_, the first requiresthe _rising_, and the second, the _falling_ inflection. EXAMPLES. 1. Does he study for amusement', or improvement`? 2. Was he esteemed for his wealth', or for his wisdom`? 3. Sink' or swim`, live' or die`, survive' or perish`, I give my handand heart to this vote. WEBSTER. 4. Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath-days', or to do evil`? to savelife', or to kill`? 5. Was it an act of moral courage', or cowardice`, for Cato to fall onhis sword`? RULE IV. Antithetic terms or clauses usually take opposite inflections;generally, the former has the _rising_, and the latter the _falling_inflection. EXAMPLES. 1. If you seek to make one rich, study not to increase his stores' butto diminish his desires`. 2. They have mouths', --but they speak not`: Eyes have they', --but they see not`: They have ears', --but they hear not`: Noses have they', --but they smell not`: They have hands', --but they handle not`: Feet have they', --but they walk not`. BIBLE. NOTE I. --When one of the antithetic clauses is a _negative_, and theother an _affirmative_, generally the negative has the _rising_, andthe affirmative the _falling_ inflection. EXAMPLES. 1. I said an elder soldier` not a better'. 2. His acts deserve punishment` rather than commiseration'. 3. This is no time for a tribunal of justice', but for showing mercy`;not for accusation', but for philanthropy`; not for trial', but forpardon`; not for sentence and execution', but for compassion andkindness`. RULE V. The Pause of Suspension, denoting that the sense is incomplete, usually has the _rising_ inflection. EXAMPLES. 1. Although the fig tree shall not blossom', neither shall fruit be inthe vine'; the labor of the olive shall fail', and the fields shallyield no meat'; the flocks shall be cut off from the fold', and thereshall be no herd in the stalls'; yet will I rejoice in the Lord`, I willjoy in the God of my salvation`. BIBLE. NOTE I. --The ordinary direct address, not accompanied with strongemphasis, takes the _rising_ inflection, on the principle of the pauseof suspension. EXAMPLES. 1. Men', brethren', and fathers', hear ye my defense which I make nowunto you. BIBLE. 2. Ye living flowers', that skirt the eternal frost'! Ye wild goats', sporting round the eagle's nest'! Ye eagles', playmates of the mountain storm'! Ye lightnings', the dread arrows of the clouds'! Ye signs' and wonders' of the elements'! Utter forth GOD`, and fill the hills with praise`! COLERIDGE. NOTE II. --In some instances of a pause of suspension, the sense requiresan intense _falling_ inflection. EXAMPLE. 1. The prodigal, if he does not become a _pauper_`, will, at least, havebut little to bestow on others. REMARK. --If the _rising_ inflection is given on _pauper_, the sensewould be perverted, and the passage made to mean, that, in order to beable to bestow on others, it is necessary that he should become apauper. RULE VI. Expressions of tenderness, as of grief, or kindness, commonlyincline the voice to the _rising_ inflection. EXAMPLES. 1. Mother', --I leave thy dwelling'; Oh! shall it be forever'? With grief my heart is swelling', From thee', --from thee', --to sever'. 2. O my son Absalom'! my son', my son Absalom'! Would God I had died forthee', Absalom', my son', my son'! BIBLE. RULE VII. The Penultimate Pause, or the last but one, of a passage, isusually preceded by the _rising_ inflection. EXAMPLES. 1. Diligence`, industry`, and proper improvement of time', are materialduties of the young`. 2. These through faith subdued kingdoms`, wrought righteous-ness`, obtained promises`, stopped the mouths of lions`, quenched the violenceof fire`, escaped the edge of the sword`, out of weakness were madestrong`, waxed valiant in fight', turned to flight the armies of thealiens`. REMARK. --The rising inflection is employed at the penultimate pause inorder to promote variety, since the voice generally falls at the end ofa sentence. RULE VIII. Expressions of strong emotion, as of anger or surprise, andalso the language of authority and reproach, are expressed with the_falling_ inflection. EXAMPLES. 1. On YOU`, and on your CHILDREN`, be the peril of the innocent bloodwhich shall be shed this day`. 2. What a piece of workmanship is MAN`! How noble in REASON`! Howinfinite in FACULTIES`! 3. O FOOLS`! and _slow of heart_ to believe all that the prophets havewritten concerning me`! BIBLE. 4. HENCE`, HOME`, _you idle creatures_`, GET YOU HOME`, YOU BLOCKS`, YOUSTONES`, YOU WORSE THAN USELESS THINGS`! 5. Avaunt`! and quit my sight`! let the earth hide thee`! Thy bones aremarrowless`; thou hast no speculation in thine eyes which thou dostglare` with. SHAKSPEARE. 6. Slave, do thy office`! Strike`, as I struck the foe`! Strike`, as I would have struck the tyrants`! Strike deep as my curse`! Strike`, and but once`! ID. RULE IX. An emphatic succession of particulars, and emphatic repetition, require the _falling_ inflection. EXAMPLES. 1. _Beware_` what earth calls happiness; BEWARE` All joys but joys that never can expire`. 2. A great mind`, a great heart`, a great orator`, a great career`, havebeen consigned to history`. BUTLER. REMARK. --The stress of voice on each successive particular, orrepetition, should gradually be increased as the subject advances. The CIRCUMFLEX is a union of the two inflections on the same word, beginning either with the _falling_ and ending with the _rising_, orwith the _rising_ and ending with the _falling_; as, If he goes to ____I shall go to ____. The circumflex is mainly employed in the language of irony, and inexpressing ideas implying some condition, either expressed orunderstood. EXAMPLES. 1. You, a beardless youth, pretend to teach a British general. 2. What! shear a wolf? a prowling wolf? 3. My father's trade? ah, really, that's too bad! My father's trade? Why, blockhead, are you mad? My father, sir, did never stoop so low, -- He was a gentleman, I'd have you know. 4. What! confer a crown on the author of the public calamities? 5. But you are very wise men, and deeply learned in the truth; we areweak, contemptible, mean persons. 6. They pretend they come to improve our state, enlarge our thoughts, and free us from error. 7. But youth, it seems, is not my only crime; I have been accused ofacting a theatrical part. 8. And this man has become a god and Cassius a wretched creature. SECTION IV. MODULATION. MODULATION implies those variations of the voice, heard in reading orspeaking, which are prompted by the feelings and emotions that thesubject inspires. EXAMPLES. EXPRESSIVE OF COURAGE AND CHIVALROUS EXCITEMENT. FULL . - Once more unto the breach, dear friends, _once more_, TONE '- Or close the wall up with our English dead! MIDDLE . - In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man, TONE '- As modest stillness and humility; . - But when the blast of war blows in our ears, SHORT | Then imitate the action of the tiger; AND + Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, QUICK '- Disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage. . - _On_, ON, you noblest English, HIGH | Whose blood is fetched from fathers of war-proof! AND + _Fathers_, that, like so many Alexanders, LOUD | Have, in these parts, from morn till even fought, '- And sheathed their swords for lack of argument. QUICK . - I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, AND | Straining upon the start. The game's afoot; VERY + Follow your spirits, and, upon this charge, LOUD '- CRY--HEAVEN FOR HARRY! ENGLAND! AND ST. GEORGE! SHAKSPEARE. REMARK. --To read the foregoing example in one dull, monotonous tone ofvoice, without regard to the sentiment expressed, would render thepassage extremely insipid and lifeless. But by a proper modulation ofthe voice, it infuses into the mind of the reader or hearer the mostanimating and exciting emotions. The voice is modulated in _three_ different ways. _First_, it is variedin PITCH; that is, from _high_ to _low_ tones, and the reverse. _Secondly_, it is varied in QUANTITY, or in _loudness_ or _volume_ ofsound. _Thirdly_, it is varied in QUALITY, or in the _kind_ of soundexpressed. PITCH OF VOICE. Pitch of voice has reference to its degree of elevation. Every person, in reading or speaking, assumes a certain pitch, which maybe either _high_ or _low_, according to circumstances, and which has agoverning influence on the variations of the voice, above and below it. This degree of elevation is usually called the KEY NOTE. As an exercise in varying the voice in pitch, the practice of uttering asentence on the several degrees of elevation, as represented in thefollowing scale, will be found beneficial. First, utter the musicalsyllables, then the vowel sound, and lastly, the proposedsentence, --ascending and descending. ---------8. --do--#--_e_-in-m_e_. ---Virtue alone survives. ---- 7. Si # _i_ in d_i_e. Virtue alone survives. -------6. --la--#--_o_-in-d_o_. ---Virtue alone survives. ------ 5. Sol # _o_ in n_o_. Virtue alone survives. -----4. --fa--#--_a_-in-_a_t. ---Virtue alone survives. -------- 3. Mi # _a_-in _a_te. Virtue alone survives. ---2. --re--#--_a_-in-f_a_r. --Virtue alone survives. ---------- 1. Do # _a_ in _a_ll. Virtue alone survives Although the voice is capable of as many variations in speaking, as aremarked on the musical scale, yet for all the purposes of ordinaryelocution, it will be sufficiently exact if we make but _three_ degreesof variation, viz. , the _Low_, the _Middle_, and the _High_. 1. THE LOW PITCH is that which falls below the usual speaking key, andis employed in expressing emotions of _sublimity_, _awe_, and_reverence_. EXAMPLE. Silence, how dead! darkness, how profound! Nor eye, nor list'ning ear, an object finds; Creation sleeps. 'Tis as the general pulse Of life stood still, and Nature made a pause. -- An awful pause! prophetic of her end. YOUNG. 2. THE MIDDLE PITCH is that usually employed in common conversation, andin expressing _unimpassioned thought_ and _moderate emotion_. EXAMPLES. 1. It was early in a summer morning, when the air was cool, the earthmoist, the whole face of the creation fresh and gay, that I latelywalked in a beautiful flower garden, and, at once, regaled the sensesand indulged the fancy. HERVEY. 2. "_I love to live_, " said a prattling boy, As he gayly played with his new-bought toy, And a merry laugh went echoing forth, From a bosom filled with joyous mirth. 3. THE HIGH PITCH is that which rises above the usual speaking key, andis used in expressing _joyous_ and _elevated feelings_. EXAMPLE. Higher, _higher_, EVER HIGHER, -- Let the watchword be "ASPIRE!" Noble Christian youth; Whatsoe'er be God's behest, Try to do that duty best, In the strength of Truth. M. F. TUPPER. QUANTITY. QUANTITY is two-fold;--consisting in FULLNESS or VOLUME of sound, as_soft_ or _loud_; and in TIME, as _slow_ or _quick_. The former hasreference to STRESS; the latter, to MOVEMENT. The degrees of variation in quantity are numerous, varying from aslight, soft whisper to a vehement shout. But for all practicalpurposes, they may be considered as _three_, the same as in pitch;--the_soft_, the _middle_, and the _loud_. For exercise in quantity, let the pupil read any sentence, as, "Beauty is a fading flower, " first in a slight, soft tone, and then repeat it, gradually increasingin quantity to the full extent of the voice. Also, let him read it firstvery slowly, and then repeat it, gradually increasing the movement. Indoing this, he should be careful not to vary the pitch. In like manner, let him repeat any vowel sound, or all of them, and alsoinversely. Thus: [Illustration] [Transcriber's Note: The illustration is a row of the letter "O, "increasing in size across the page, followed by a row of the letter "O"decreasing in size. The presumed intent is to convey loudness. ] REMARK. --Quantity is often mistaken for Pitch. But it should be borne inmind that quantity has reference to _loudness_ or _volume_ of sound, andpitch to the _elevation_ or _depression_ of a tone. The difference maybe distinguished by the slight and heavy strokes on a bell;--both ofwhich produce sounds alike in _pitch_; but they differ in _quantity_ or_loudness_, in proportion as the strokes are light or heavy. RULES FOR QUANTITY. 1. SOFT, OR SUBDUED TONES, are those which range from a whisper to acomplete vocality, and are used to express _fear_, _caution_, _secrecy_, _solemnity_, and all _tender emotions_. EXAMPLES. 1. We watched her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. HOOD. 2. Softly, peacefully, Lay her to rest; Place the turf lightly, On her young breast. D. E. GOODMAN. 3. The loud wind dwindled to a whisper low, And sighed for pity as it answered, --"No. " 2. A MIDDLE TONE, or medium loudness of voice, is employed in reading_narrative_, _descriptive_, or _didactic sentences_. EXAMPLE. I love my country's pine-clad hills, Her thousand bright and gushing rills, Her sunshine and her storms; Her rough and rugged rocks that rear Their hoary heads high in the air, In wild fantastic forms. 3. A LOUD TONE, or fullness and stress of voice, is used in expressing_violent passions_ and _vehement emotions_. EXAMPLES. 1. STAND! _the ground's your own_, my braves, -- Will ye give it up to _slaves_? Will ye look for _greener graves_? Hope ye mercy still? What's the mercy _despots_ feel? Hear it in that _battle-peal_, -- Read it on yon bristling steel, Ask it--_ye who will!_ PIERPONT. 2. "HOLD!" Tyranny cries; but their resolute breath Sends back the reply: "INDEPENDENCE or DEATH!" QUALITY. QUALITY has reference to _the kind of sound_ uttered. Two sounds may be alike in quantity and pitch, yet differ in quality. The sounds produced on the clarinet and flute may agree in pitch andquantity, yet be unlike in quality. The same is true in regard to thetones of the voice of two individuals. This difference is occasionedmainly by the different positions of the vocal organs. The qualities of voice mostly used in reading or speaking, and whichshould receive the highest degree of culture, are the _Pure Tone_, the_Orotund_, the _Aspirated_, and the _Guttural_. RULES FOR QUALITY. 1. THE PURE TONE is a clear, smooth, sonorous flow of sound, usuallyaccompanied with the middle pitch of voice, and is adapted to expressemotions of _joy, cheerfulness, love_, and _tranquillity_. EXAMPLE. Hail! beauteous stranger of the wood, Attendant on the spring, Now heaven repairs thy vernal seat, And woods thy welcome sing. 2. THE OROTUND is a full, deep, round, and pure tone of voice, peculiarly adapted in expressing _sublime_ and _pathetic emotions_. EXAMPLE. It thunders! Sons of dust, in reverence bow! Ancient of Days! Thou speakest from above: Almighty! trembling, like a timid child, I hear thy awful voice. Alarmed--afraid-- I see the flashes of thy lightning wild, And in the very grave would hide my head. 3. THE ASPIRATED TONE of voice is not a pure, vocal sound, but rather aforcible breathing utterance, and is used to express _amazement, fear, terror, anger, revenge, remorse_, and _fervent emotions_. EXAMPLE. Oh, coward conscience, how dost thou affright me! The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight; Cold, fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. 4. THE GUTTURAL QUALITY is a deep, aspirated tone of voice, used toexpress _aversion, hatred, loathing_, and _contempt_. EXAMPLE. Tell me I _hate_ the bowl? HATE is a feeble word: I _loathe_, ABHOR, my very soul With strong disgust is stirred, Whene'er I see, or hear, or tell, Of the dark beverage of hell. NOTATION IN MODULATION. (o) high. (oo) high and loud. ([o]) low. ([oo]) low and loud. (=) quick. (_''_) short and quick. (_sl_. ) slow. (_p_. ) soft. (_pp_. ) very soft. (_f_. ) loud. (_ff_. ) very loud. (_pl_. ) plaintive. (<) increase. (>) decrease. EXAMPLES FOR EXERCISE IN MODULATION. (_p_. ) Soft is the strain when zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows; (_f_. ) But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse rough verse should like the torrent roar. (_sl_. ) When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, The line, too, labors, and the words move slow: (=) Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the main. POPE. (o=) Go ring the bells and fire the guns, And fling the starry banner out; (_ff_. ) Shout "FREEDOM" till your lisping ones Give back the cradle shout. WHITTIER. (_pl_. ) "And now, farewell! 'Tis hard to give thee up, With death so like a gentle slumber on thee!-- And thy dark sin!--oh! I could drink the cup If from this woe its bitterness had won thee. May God have called thee, like a wanderer, home, My lost boy, Absalom!" WILLIS. (_sl_. ) The sun hath set in folded clouds, -- Its twilight rays are gone, (o) And, gathered in the shades of night, The storm is rolling on. (_pl_. ) Alas! how ill that bursting storm (>) The fainting spirit braves, (_p_. ) When they, --the lovely and the lost, -- (_pl_. ) Are gone to early graves! (o) On! onward still! o'er the land he sweeps, (>) With wreck, and ruin, and rush, and roar, Nor stops to look back On his dreary track (_''_) But speeds to the spoils before. MISS J. H. LEWIS. From every battle-field of the revolution--from Lexington and BunkerHill--from Saratoga and Yorktown--from the fields of Entaw--from thecane-brakes that sheltered the men of Marion--the repeated, long-prolonged echoes came up--(_f_. ) "THE UNION: IT MUST BE PRESERVED"(<) From every valley in our land--from every cabin on the pleasantmountain sides--from the ships at our wharves--from the tents of thehunter in our westernmost prairies--from the living minds of the livingmillions of American freemen--from the thickly coming glories offuturity--the shout went up, like the sound of many waters, (_ff. _) "THE UNION: IT MUST BE PRESERVED. " BANCROFT. (_p_. ) Hark! (_sl_. ) Along the vales and mountains of the earth ([o]) There is a deep, portentous murmuring, (=) Like the swift rush of subterranean streams, Or like the mingled sounds of earth and air, When the fierce tempest, with sonorous wing, Heaves his deep folds upon the rushing winds, (<) And hurries onward, with his night of clouds, Against the eternal mountains. 'Tis the voice Of infant FREEDOM, --and her stirring call Is heard and answered in a thousand tones (<) From every hill-top of her western home; And lo! it breaks across old Ocean's flood, -- (oo) And "FREEDOM! FREEDOM!" is the answering shout Of nations, starting from the spell of years. G. D. PRENTICE. (<) The thunders hushed, -- The trembling lightning fled away in fear, -- (_p. _) The foam-capt surges sunk to quiet rest, -- The raging winds grew still, -- (_pp_. ) There was a calm. (o, o, ) "Quick! Man the boat!" (=) Away they spring The stranger ship to aid, (_f_. ) And loud their hailing voices ring, As rapid speed they made. (p) Hush! lightly tread! still tranquilly she sleeps; I've watched, suspending e'en my breath, in fear To break the heavenly spell. (_pp_. ) Move silently. Can it be? Matter immortal? and shall spirit die? Above the nobler, shall less nobler rise? (<) Shall man alone, for whom all else revives, No resurrection know? (o<) Shall man alone, Imperial man! be sown in barren ground, Less privileged than grain, on which he feeds? YOUNG. (=) Away! away to the mountain's brow, Where the trees are gently waving; (_''_) Away! away to the vale below, Where the streams are gently laving. An hour passed on;--the Turk awoke;-- That bright dream was his last;-- He woke--to hear his sentry's shriek, (oo) "To ARMS! they come! (_ff_. ) THE GREEK! THE GREEK!" (_pl_. ) He woke to die, midst flame and smoke, And shout, and groan, and sabre stroke, And death shots falling thick and fast As lightnings from the mountain cloud; And heard, with voice as trumpet loud, Bozzaris cheer his band;-- (oo) "_Strike_--till the last armed foe expires! _Strike_--for your altars and your fires! _Strike_--for the green graves of your sires! God, and your native land!" HALLECK. He said, and on the rampart hights arrayed His trusty warriors, few, but undismayed; (_sl_) Firm paced and slow, a horrid front they form, (_pp_) Still as the breeze, ([oo]) but dreadful as the storm! (_p_. ) Low, murmuring sounds along their banners fly, (_ff_. ) REVENGE, or DEATH!--the watchword and reply; (oo) Then pealed the notes, omnipotent to charm, (_f_. ) And the loud tocsin tolled their last alarm! CAMPBELL. ([o]') His speech was at first low toned and slow. Sometimes his voice would deepen, ([oo]) like the sound of distant thunder; and anon, (_''_) his flashes of wit and enthusiasm would light up the anxious faces of his hearers, (<) like the far-off lightning of a coming storm. (>) Receding now, the dying numbers ring (_p_. ) Fainter and fainter, down the rugged dell: (_pp_. ) And now 'tis silent all--enchantress, fare thee well. (=) Oh, joy to the world! the hour is come, When the nations to freedom awake, When the royalists stand agape and dumb, And monarchs with terror shake! Over the walls of majesty, "Upharsin" is writ in words of fire, And the eyes of the bondmen, wherever they be, Are lit with their wild desire. (<) Soon, soon shall the thrones that blot the world, Like the Orleans, into the dust be hurl'd, And the world roll on, like a hurricane's breath, Till the farthest nation hears what it saith. -- (_ff_. ) "ARISE! ARISE! BE FREE!" T. B. READ. (_p_. [o]) Tread softly--bow the head, -- In reverent silence bow, -- No passing bell doth toll, -- (_pl_. ) Yet an immortal soul Is passing now. MRS. SOUTHEY. (o[_f_]. ) SPEAK OUT, my friends; would you exchange it for the DEMON'SDRINK, (_ff_. ) ALCOHOL? A _shout_, like the _roar_ of a tempest, answered, (oo) NO! (oo) The combat deepens! (_ff_. ) ON! YE BRAVE! (=) Who rush to GLORY, (_p_. ) or the GRAVE! (_ff_. ) WAVE, _Munich_, all thy banners WAVE! And CHARGE with all thy CHIVALRY! (_pl_. ) Ah! few shall part where many meet! The snow shall be their winding sheet, And every turf beneath their feet (_sl. _[o]) Shall be a soldier's sepulcher! CAMPBELL. (_sl_. ) At length, o'er Columbus slow consciousness breaks, (oo) "LAND! LAND!" cry the sailors; (_ff_. ) "LAND! LAND!"--he awakes, -- (_''_) He runs, --yes! behold it! it blesseth his sight! THE LAND! _O, dear spectacle! transport! delight!_ SECTION V. THE RHETORICAL PAUSE. RHETORICAL PAUSES are those which are frequently required by the voicein reading and speaking, although the construction of the passage admitsof no grammatical point. These pauses should be as manifest to the ear, as those which areindicated by the comma, semicolon, or other grammatical points, thoughnot commonly denoted by any visible sign. In the following examples theyare denoted thus, (||). EXAMPLES. 1. In slumbers of midnight || the sailor-boy lay, His hammock swung loose || at the sport of the wind; But watch-worn and weary, || his cares flew away, And visions of happiness || danced o'er his mind. DIMOND. 2. There is a land, || of every land the pride, Beloved of heaven || o'er all the world beside; Where brighter suns || dispense serener light, And milder moons || imparadise the night. O, thou shalt find, || howe'er thy footsteps roam, That land thy country, || and that spot thy home! This pause is generally made before or after the utterance of someimportant word or clause on which it is especially desired to fix theattention. In such cases it is usually denoted by the use of the dash(--). EXAMPLES. 1. God said--"_Let there be light!_" 2. All dead and silent was the earth, In deepest night it lay; The Eternal spoke creation's word, And called to being--Day! No definite rule can be given with reference to the length of therhetorical, or grammatical pause. The correct taste of the reader orspeaker must determine it. For the voice should sometimes be suspendedmuch longer at the same pause in one situation than in another; as inthe two following EXAMPLES. LONG PAUSE. Pause a moment. I heard a footstep. Listen now. I heard it again; but itis going from us. It sounds fainter, --still fainter. It is gone. SHORT PAUSE. John, be quick. Get some water. Throw the powder overboard. "It can notbe reached. " Jump into the boat, then. Shove off. There goes the powder. Thank Heaven. We are safe. * * * * * REMARKS TO TEACHERS. It is of the utmost importance, in order to secure an easy and elegantstyle in reading, to refer the pupil often to the more importantprinciples involved in a just elocution. To this end, it will be foundvery advantageous, occasionally to review the rules and directions givenin the preceding pages, and thus early accustom him to apply them in thesubsequent reading lessons. For a wider range of examples andillustrations, it is only necessary to refer to the numerous and variousexercises which form the body of this book. They have been selected, inmany cases, with a special view to this object. PART SECOND. LESSON I. HER' O ISM, bravery; courage. MA LI'' CIOUS, ill disposed; resentful. AM BI'' TION, eager desire. SAR CAS' TIC, severe; cutting. DE RIS' ION, ridicule. CON FER' RED, bestowed. RES' CU ED, saved; preserved. DIS AS' TER, calamity. IN CLIN' ED, disposed. SYM' PA THY, fellow-feeling. TEN' DER ED, offered. A POL' O GY, excuse. TRUE HEROISM. OSBORNE. 1. I shall never forget a lesson which I received when quite a younglad, while attending an Academy. Among my schoolmates were Hartly andVincent. They were both older than myself, and Vincent was looked up to, as a sort of leader in matters of opinion, and in directing our sports. 2. He was not, at heart, a malicious boy; but he had a foolish ambitionof being thought witty and sarcastic; and he made himself feared by ahabit of turning things into ridicule. He seemed to be constantlylooking out for something to occur, which he could turn into derision. 3. Hartly was a new scholar, and little was known of him among the boys. One morning as we were on our way to school, he was seen driving a cowalong the road toward the pasture. A group of boys, among whom wasVincent, met him as he was passing. 4. "Now, " said Vincent, "let us have a little sport with our countryrustic. " So saying, he exclaimed: "Halloo, Jonathan! [Footnote: A titlefrequently applied to the Yankees by the English. ] what is the price ofmilk? What do you feed her on? What will you take for all the gold onher horns? Boys, if you want to see the latest Paris style, look atthose boots!" 5. Hartly waved his hand at us with a pleasant smile, and, driving thecow to the field, took down the bars of a rail-fence, saw her safely inthe pasture, and then, putting up the bars, came and entered the schoolwith the rest of us. After school, in the afternoon, he let out the cow, and drove her away, none of us knew where. Every day, for two or threeweeks, he went through the same task. 6. The boys who attended the Academy, were nearly all the sons ofwealthy parents, and some of them were foolish enough to look down, witha sort of disdain, upon a scholar who had to drive a cow to pasture; andthe sneers and jeers of Vincent were often repeated. 7. One day, he refused to sit next to Hartly in school, on a pretensethat he did not like the odor of the barn. Sometimes he would inquire ofHartly after the cow's health, pronouncing the word "ke-ow, " after themanner of some people. 8. Hartly bore all these silly attempts to wound his feelings and annoyhim, with the utmost good nature. He never once returned an angry lookor word. One time, Vincent said: "Hartly, I suppose your father intendsto make a milkman of you. " 9. "Why not?" said Hartly. "Oh, nothing, " said Vincent; "only do notleave much water in the cans after rinsing them--that's all!" The boyslaughed, and Hartly, not in the least mortified, replied: "Never fear;if I ever rise to be a milkman, I will give _good measure_ and _goodmilk_ too. " 10. A few days after this conversation, there was a public exhibition, at which a number of ladies and gentlemen from the city, was present. Prizes were awarded by the Principal of the Academy, and Hartly andVincent each received one; for, in respect to scholarship, they wereabout equal. 11. After the prizes were distributed, the Principal remarked that therewas _one prize_, consisting of a medal, which was _rarely_ awarded, notso much on account of its great value, as because the instances are_rare_ that merit it. It is THE PRIZE FOR HEROISM. The last boy on whomit was conferred, was Master Manners, who, three years ago, rescued theblind girl from drowning. 12. The Principal then said, "With the permission of the company, I willrelate a short story. Not long since, some boys were flying a kite inthe street, just as a poor boy on horseback rode by, on his way to mill. The horse took fright, and threw the boy, injuring him so badly that hewas carried home, and confined for some weeks to his bed. 13. "None of the boys who had caused the disaster, followed to learn thefate of the wounded boy. There was one, however, who witnessed theaccident from a distance, and went to render what service he could. Hesoon learned that the wounded boy was the grandson of a poor widow, whose only support consisted in selling the milk of a fine cow, of whichshe was the owner. 14. "Alas! what could she now do? She was old and lame, and hergrandson, on whom she depended to drive the cow to pasture, was now sickand helpless. 'Never mind, good woman, ' said the boy, 'I can drive yourcow. ' With thanks, the poor widow accepted his offer. 15. "But the boy's kindness did not stop here. Money was wanted topurchase medicine. 'I have money that my mother sent me to buy a pair ofboots, ' said the boy; 'but I can do without them for the present. ' 16. "'Oh, no!' said the old lady, 'I can not consent to that; but hereis a pair of cowhide boots that I bought for Henry, who can not wearthem. If you will buy them, giving me what they cost, I can get alongvery well. ' The boy bought the boots, clumsy as they were, and has wornthem up to this time. 17. "When the other boys of the Academy saw this scholar driving a cowto the pasture, he was assailed with laughter and ridicule. His thickcowhide boots, in particular, were made matters of mirth. But he kept oncheerfully and bravely, day after day, driving the widow's cow to thepasture, and wearing his thick boots, contented in the thought that hewas _doing right_, not caring for all the jeers and sneers that could beuttered. 18. "He never undertook to explain why he drove the cow; for he was notinclined to display his charitable motives, and besides, in heart, hehad no sympathy with the false pride that looks with ridicule on anyuseful employment. It was by _mere accident_ that his course of conductand self-denial, was yesterday discovered by his teacher. 19. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, I appeal to you. Was there not _trueheroism_ in this boy's conduct? Nay, Master Hartly, do not steal out ofsight behind the blackboard! You were not ashamed of _ridicule_--youmust not shun _praise. Come forth, come forth, Master Edward JamesHartly, and let us see your honest face!_" 20. As Hartly, with blushing cheeks, made his appearance, the wholecompany greeted him with a round of applause for his _heroic conduct_. The ladies stood upon benches, and waved their handkerchiefs. The oldmen clapped their hands, and wiped the moisture from the corners oftheir eyes. Those clumsy boots on Hartly's feet seemed prouderornaments, than a crown would have been on his head. The medal wasbestowed on him, amid the applause of the whole company. 21. Vincent was heartily ashamed of his ill-natured sneers, and, afterthe school was dismissed, he went, with tears in his eyes, and tenderedhis hand to Hartly, making a handsome apology for his past ill manners. "Think no more about it, " said Hartly; "let us all go and have a ramblein the woods, before we break up for vacation. " The boys, one and all, followed Vincent's example, and then, with shouts and huzzas, they allset forth into the woods--a happy, cheerful group. QUESTIONS. --1. In what way did Vincent try to make derision of Hartly?2. How did Hartly receive it? 3. For what did Hartly receive a prizefrom his teacher? 4. How did the spectators manifest their approbationof Hartly's conduct? * * * * * LESSON II. A VERT' ED, turned aside. RE PENT' ANT, contrite; sorrowful. SIN CERE', honest; true-hearted. SE VERE', harsh; rigid TAUNTS, scoffs; insults. PLATE, dishes of gold or silverware. DE SERT', forsake; abandon. FAIL' URE, want of success. SID' ING, taking part. TYR' AN NY, oppression; cruelty. YOU AND I. CHARLES MACKAY. 1. Who would scorn his humble fellow For the coat he wears? For the poverty he suffers? For his daily cares? Who would pass him in the foot-way With averted eye? Would you, brother'? No`, --you _would_ not. If _you_ would, --not _I_. 2. Who, when vice or crime repentant, With a grief sincere, Asked for pardon, would refuse it, More than heaven severe? Who, to erring woman's sorrow, Would with taunts reply? Would _you_, brother'! No`, --you _would_ not. If _you_ would, --not _I_. 3. Would you say that Vice is Virtue In a hall of state'? Or, that rogues are not dishonest If they dine off plate'? Who would say Success and Merit Ne'er part company? Would _you_, brother'? No`, --you _would_ not. If _you_ would, --not _I_. 4. Who would give a cause his efforts When the cause is strong; But desert it on its failure, Whether right or wrong`? Ever siding with the upmost, Letting downmost lie? Would _you_, brother'? No`, --you _would_ not. If _you_ would, --not _I_. 5. Who would lend his arm to strengthen Warfare with the right`? Who would give his pen to blacken Freedom's page of light`? Who would lend his tongue to utter Praise of tyranny? Would _you_, brother'? No`, --you _would_ not. If _you_ would, --not _I_. QUESTIONS. --1. What rule for the rising and falling inflections, firstverse? See page 28. 2. Repeat the rule. 3. What rule for the fallinginflections, fifth verse? See page 29. 4. Repeat the rule. What is themeaning of the suffix _en_, in the words _strengthen_, _blacken?_ SeeSANDERS and McELLIGOTT'S ANALYSIS OF ENGLISH WORDS, p. 132, Ex. 174. * * * * * LESSON III. WAR' FARE, conflict; struggle. CLUTCH ES, paws; firm grasp. DO MIN' ION, rule; sway. PIN' ION, wing; as of a bird. PRE' CIOUS, costly; valuable. SCOFF' ER, scorner. VA' RI ED, changing; different. WAVES, moves to and fro. PRO PHET' IC, (_ph_ like _f_. ) foretelling. DE SPISE', scorn; disdain. GOAL, the mark that bounds a race. BECK' ON, motion; invite with the hand. LIFE'S WORK. 1. _Life is onward:_ use it With a forward aim; Toil is heavenly: choose it, And its warfare claim. Look not to another To perform your will; Let not your own brother Keep your warm hand still. 2. _Life is onward:_ never Look upon the past; It would hold you ever In its clutches fast. _Now_ is your dominion; Weave it as you please; Bid not the soul's pinion To a bed of ease. 3. _Life is onward:_ try it, Ere the day is lost; It hath virtue: buy it, At whatever cost. If the World should offer Every precious gem, Look not at the scoffer, Change it not for them. 4. _Life is onward:_ heed it, In each varied dress; Your own _act_ can speed it On to happiness. His bright pinion o'er you Time waves not in vain, If Hope chant before you Her prophetic strain. 5. _Life is onward:_ prize it, In sunshine and in storm; Oh! do not despise it In its humblest form. Hope and Joy together, Standing at the goal, Through life's darkest weather Beckon on the soul. QUESTIONS. --1. What do _it_ and _them_ refer to, third verse, last line?2. Repeat the word _sunshine_ several times in quick succession. * * * * * LESSON IV. AC CUS' TOM ED, used; habituated. PLAN TA' TIONS, settlements. PRO TEC' TION, safety; defense. RE PROACH' FUL, reproving. CAP' TUR ED, taken prisoners. DE CID' ED, concluded. COR O NET, little crown. SA LUT' ED, greeted. MON' ARCH, sovereign; ruler. CON CEAL' ED, hid; secreted. RE STOR' ED, brought back. VI' O LENCE, outrage; wrong. RE BUK' ED, reproved. LEAGUE, compact; alliance. TER' RI BLE, fearful; dreadful. AT TEND' ANT, waiter; servant. THE YOUNG CAPTIVES. 1. Many years ago, dining the early settlements in New England, thechildren were accustomed to gather large quantities of nuts, which grewin great abundance in the forests that surrounded their littleplantations. 2. In one of these nut-gatherings, a little boy and girl, the one eightand the other four years of age, whose mother was dead, became separatedfrom their companions. On their way home, they came across some wildgrapes, and were busily engaged in gathering them, till the last rays ofthe setting sun were fading away. 3. Suddenly they were seized by two Indians. The boy struggledviolently, and his little sister cried to him for protection; but invain. The Indians soon bore them far beyond the bounds of thesettlement. Night was far advanced before they halted. Then they kindleda fire, and offered the children some food. 4. The heart of the boy swelled high with grief and anger, and herefused to eat. But the poor little girl took some parched corn from thehand of the Indian who held her on his knee. He smiled as he saw her eatthe kernels, and look up in his face with a wondering, yet reproachfuleye. Then they lay down to sleep in the dark forest, each with an armover his little captive. 5. Great was the alarm in the colony when these children did not return. Every spot was searched, where it was thought possible they might havelost their way. But when, at length, their little basket was found, overturned in a tangled thicket, they came to the conclusion that theymust have been captured by the Indians. 6. It was decided that before any warlike measures were adopted, thefather should go peacefully to the Indian king, and demand his children. At the earliest dawn of morning he departed with his companions. Theymet a friendly Indian pursuing the chase, who consented to be theirguide. 7. They traveled through rude paths, until the day drew near a close. Then, approaching a circle of native dwellings, in the midst of whichwas a tent, they saw a man of lofty form, with a coronet of feathersupon his brow, and surrounded by warriors. The guide saluted him as hismonarch, and the bereaved father, bowing down, thus addressed him: 8. "King of the red men, thou seest a father in pursuit of his lostchildren. He has heard that your people will not harm the stranger indistress. So he trusts himself fearlessly among you. The king of our ownnative land, who should have protected us, became our foe. We fled fromour dear homes--from the graves of our fathers. 9. "The ocean wave brought us to this New World. We are a peaceful race, pure from the blood of all men. We seek to take the hand of our redbrethren. Of my own kindred, none inhabit this wilderness, save twolittle buds, from a broken, buried stem. 10. "Last night, sorrow entered into my soul, because I found them not. Knowest thou, O king, if thy people have taken my children'? Knowestthou where they have concealed them'? Cause them, I pray thee, to berestored to my arms. So shall the Great Spirit bless thy own tenderplants, and lift up thy heart when it weigheth heavily on they bosom. " 11. The Indian monarch, fixing on him a piercing glance, said: "Knowestthou me'? Look in my eyes`! Look`! Answer me`! Are they the eyes of astranger`!" The bereaved father replied that he had no recollection ofhaving ever before seen his countenance. 12. "Thus it is with the white man. He is dim-eyed. He looketh on the_garments_ more than on the _soul_. Where your plows turn up the earth, oft have I stood watching your toil. There was no coronet on my brow. But I was king. And you knew it not. 13. "I looked upon your people. I saw neither pride nor violence. I wentan _enemy_, but returned a _friend_. I said to my warriors, 'Do thesemen no harm. They do not hate Indians. ' Then our white-haired prophet ofthe Great Spirit rebuked me. He bade me make no league with the palefaces, lest angry words should be spoken of me, among the shades of ourburied kings. 14. "Yet, again, I went where thy brethren have reared their dwellings. Yes; I entered thy house. _And thou knowest not this brow'?_ I couldtell _thine_ at midnight, if but a single star trembled through theclouds. My ear would know _thy_ voice, though the storm was abroad withall its thunders. 15. "I have said that I was king. Yet I came to thee hungry, and thougavest me bread. My head was wet with the tempest. Thou badest me liedown on thy couch, and thy son, for whom thou mournest, covered me. 16. "I was sad in spirit, and thy little daughter, whom thou seekestwith tears, sat on my knee. She smiled when I told her how the beaverbuildeth his house in the forest. My heart was comforted, for I saw thatshe did not hate Indians. 17. "Turn not on me such a terrible eye. I am no stealer of babes. Ihave reproved the people who took thy children. I have sheltered themfor thee. Not a hair of their head is hurt. Thinkest thou that the redman can forget kindness'? They are sleeping in my tent. Had I but asingle blanket, it should have been their bed. Take them, and returnunto thy people. " 18. He waved his hand to an attendant, and, in a moment, the twochildren were in the arms of their father. The white men were kindlysheltered for that night, and, the next day, they bore the children totheir home, and the people rejoiced at their safe return. QUESTIONS. --1. By whom wore those children taken captive? 2. Who went insearch of them? 3. What did he say to the king of the tribe? 4. Whatreply did the Indian monarch make? 5. Were the children restored totheir father? 6. What is meant by the _New World_, 9th paragraph? 7. What by _two little buds, from a broken, buried stem_, same paragraph? * * * * * LESSON V. IM' AGE. Form; likeness. ELAPS' ED, glided away. WAY' WARD NESS, perverseness. SHUD' DER ING, chilling tremor. PAS' SION ATE, easily excited to anger. MAS' TER Y, rule; sway. HEAD' STRONG, stubborn; obstinate. UN DER WENT', experienced. AF FEC' TION, love; attachment. THRESH' OLD, entrance. ANX I' E TY, care; solicitude. PER PET' U AL, continual. MY MOTHER'S LAST KISS. MRS. E. OAKES SMITH. 1. I was but five years old when my mother died; but her image is asfresh in my mind, now that twenty years have elapsed, as it was at thetime of her death. I remember her, as a pale, gentle being, with a sweetsmile, and a voice soft and cheerful when she praised me; and when I haderred, (for I was a wild, thoughtless child, ) there was a mild andtender earnestness in her reproofs, that always went to my little heart. 2. Methinks I can now see her large, blue eyes moist with sorrow, because of my childish waywardness, and hear her repeat: "My child, howcan you grieve me so?" She had, for a long time, been pale and feeble, and sometimes there would come a bright spot on her cheek, which madeher look so lovely, I thought she must be well. But then she spoke ofdying, and pressed me to her bosom, and told me to be good when she wasgone, and to love my father, and be kind to him; for he would have noone else to love. 3. I recollect she was ill all day, and my little hobbyhorse and whipwere laid aside, and I tried to be very quiet. I did not see her for thewhole day, and it seemed very long. At night, they told me my mother wastoo sick to kiss me, as she always had done before I went to bed, and Imust go without it. But I could not. I stole into the room, and placingmy lips close to hers, whispered: "Mother, dear mother, won't you kissme?" 4. Her lips were very cold, and when she put her hand upon my cheek, andlaid my head on her bosom, I felt a cold shuddering pass all through me. My father carried me from the room; but he could not speak. After theyput me in bed, I lay a long while thinking; I feared my mother would, indeed, die; for her cheek felt cold, as my little sister's did when shedied, and they carried her little body away where I never saw it again. But I soon fell asleep. 5. In the morning I rushed to my mother's room, with a strange dread ofevil to come upon me. It was just as I feared. A white linen covered herstraight, cold form. I removed it from her face: her eyes were closed, and her cheeks were hard and cold. But my mother's dear, dear smile wasthere, or my heart would have broken. 6. In an instant, all the little faults, for which she had so oftenreproved me, rushed upon my mind. I longed to tell her how good I wouldalways be, if she would but stay with me. I longed to tell her how, inall time to come, her words would be a law to me. I would be all thatshe had wished me to be. 7. I was a passionate, headstrong boy; and never did this frame oftemper come upon me, but I seemed to see her mild, tearful eyes fullupon me, just as she used to look in life; and when I strove for themastery over my passions, her smile seemed to cheer my heart, and I washappy. 8. My whole character underwent a change, even from the moment of herdeath. Her spirit seemed to be always with me, _to aid the good_ and_root out the evil_ that was in me. I felt it would grieve her gentlespirit to see me err, and I _could not_, _would not_, do so. 9. I was the child of her affection. I knew she had prayed and wept overme; and that even on the threshold of the grave, her anxiety for mywelfare had caused her spirit to linger, that she might pray once morefor me. I never forgot my mother's last kiss. It was with me in sorrow;it was with me in joy; it was with me in moments of evil, like aperpetual good. QUESTIONS. --1. What was the age of the person represented in this piece?2. What, when his mother died? 3. What did he say of himself when achild? 4. Had he ever grieved his mother? 5. What did he say of his_faults_, after his mother's death? 6. What did he desire to tell her?7. How ought you to treat your mother, in order to avoid the reproachesof your own conscience? * * * * * LESSON VI. SUR PRISE', amazement. PER' ISH ED, died. STINT' ED, small of size. STERN, severe; harsh; rigid. LOI' TER, linger; tarry. STAG' GER ED, reeled to and fro. FORD' ED, waded. ES CAP ED, fled from. THE DEAD CHILD'S FORD. MRS. E. OAKES SMITH. 1. "Dear mother, here's the _very_ place Where little John was found, The water covering up his face, His feet upon the ground. Now won't you tell me _all about_ The death of little John'? And how the woman sent him out Long after sun was down'? And tell me _all about the wrong_, And _that_ will make the story long. " 2. I took the child upon my knee Beside the lake so clear; For _there_ the tale of misery Young Edward begged to hear He looked into my _very_ eyes, With sad and earnest face, And caught his breath with wild surprise, And turned to mark the place Where _perished_, years agone, the child Alone, beneath the waters wild. 3. "A weakly orphan boy was John, A barefoot, stinted child, Whose work-day task was never done, Who wept when others smiled. Around his home the trees were high, Down to the water's brink, And almost hid the pleasant sky, Where wild deer came to drink. "('') "And did they come, the pretty deer'? And did they drink the water here'?" 4. Cried Edward, with a wondering eye: "Now, mother, tell to me, Was John about as _large_ as I'? Pray tell, how _big_ was he'?" "He was an _older_ boy than _you_, And _stouter_ every way; For, water from the well he drew, And hard he worked all day. But then poor John was sharp and thin, With sun-burnt hair and sun-burnt skin. 5. "His mother used to spin and weave; From farm to farm she went; And, though it made her much to grieve, She John to service sent. He lived with one, a woman stern, Of hard and cruel ways; And he must bring her wood to burn, From forest and highways; And then, at night, on cold, hard bed, He laid his little, aching head. 6. "The weary boy had toiled all day With heavy spade and hoe; His mistress met him on the way, And bade him quickly go And bring her home some sticks of wood, For she would bake and brew; When he returned, she'd give him food; For she had much to do. And then she charged him not to stay, Nor loiter long upon the way. 7. "He went; but scarce his toil-worn feet Could crawl along the wood, He was so spent with work and heat, And faint for lack of food. He bent his aching, little back To bear the weight along, And staggered then upon the track; For John was _never_ strong; His eyesight, too, began to fail, And he grew giddy, faint, and pale. 8. "The load was small, _quite_ small, 'tis true, But John could bring no more; The woman in a rage it threw, -- She stamped upon the floor. (_f_. ) 'No supper you shall have to-night; So go along to bed, You good-for-nothing, ugly fright, You little stupid-head!'" Said Edward: "_I_ would _never_ go; She wouldn't _dare_ to serve _me_ so!" 9. "The moon-beams fell upon the child As, weeping, there he lay; And gusty winds were sweeping wild Along the forest way, When up rose John, at dead of night; For he would see his mother; _She_ loved her child, although _he_ might Be _nothing_ to another. That narrow creek he forded o'er, -- 'Tis nearer than around the shore. 10. "But here the shore is rough, you see; The bank is high and steep; And John, who climbed on hands and knee, His footing could not keep. He backward fell, all, all alone; Too weak was he to rise;(_pl. _) And no one heard his dying moan, Or closed his dying eyes. How still he slept! And grief and pain Could never come to him again. 11. "A stranger, passing on his way, Found him, as you have said; His feet were out upon the clay, The water o'er his head. And then his foot-prints showed the path He took, adown the creek, When he escaped the woman's wrath, So hungry, faint, and weak. And people now, as you have heard, Do call the place, THE DEAD CHILD'S FORD. " QUESTIONS. --1. Was John an orphan, or half orphan? 2. Was he drowned atnight, or in the daytime? 8. By whom was he found? 4. What is the placecalled where he was drowned? 5. Give the rule for the risinginflections, as marked in the 1st, 2d, and 4th verses. 6. Why are thereno quotation marks at the beginning of the 2d verse? 7. Why are halfquotations used in the 3d and 8th verses? 8. How should a part of the8th and 10th verses be read, according to the notation marks? See page41. * * * * * LESSON VII. EX CLAIM' ED, cried out. DE MAND' ING, asking; requiring. A MISS', wrong; improperly. AC CUS' ED, charged with. BREACH, violation. VIS' ION, sight; view. DE SCRIP' TION, account. SLUG' GARD, lazy person. LAME AND LAZY, --A FABLE. [Footnote: For an explanation of the term fable, see page 236. ] 1. Two beggars, LAME and LAZY, were in want of bread. _One_ leaned onhis crutch, the _other_ reclined on his couch. Lame called on Charity, and humbly asked for a _cracker_. Instead of a cracker, he received a_loaf_. 2. Lazy, seeing the gift of Charity, exclaimed: "What`! ask a _cracker_and receive a _loaf'_? Well, I will ask a loaf. " Lazy now applied toCharity, and called for a loaf of bread. "Your demanding a loaf, " saidCharity, "proves you a _loaf_-er. You are of that class and characterwho _ask_ and _receive not_; because you ask amiss. " 3. Lazy, who always found fault, and had rather whine than work, complained of _ill-treatment_, and even accused Charity of a breach ofan exceeding great and precious promise: "Ask, and ye shall receive. " 4. Charity pointed him to a painting in her room, which presented to hisvision three personages, Faith, Hope and Charity. Charity appearedlarger and fairer than her sisters. He noticed that her right hand helda pot of honey, which fed a bee disabled, having lost its wings. Herleft hand was armed with a whip to keep off the drones. 5. "I do not understand it, " said Lazy. Charity replied: "It means thatCharity _feeds_ the lame, and _flogs_ the lazy. " Lazy turned to go. "Stop, " said Charity, "instead of _coin_, I will give you _counsel_. Donot go and live on your poor mother; I will send you to a _rich ant_. " 6. "_Rich aunt'_?" echoed Lazy. "Where shall I find her'?" "You willfind a description of her, " replied Charity, "in Proverbs, sixthchapter, sixth, seventh, and eighth verses, which read as follows: 'Goto the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise; which, havingno guide, overseer, or ruler, provided her meat in summer, and gatherethher food in the harvest. '" 7. MORAL. Instead of waiting and wishing for a rich UNCLE to _die_, goand see how a rich ANT _lives_. QUESTIONS. --1. Where is the quotation in the 3d paragraph to be found?Answer. John, 16th chapter, 24th verse. 2. Where, the quotation in thesixth paragraph? 3. Why does it commence with a half quotation? Answer. Because it denotes a quotation within a quotation. * * * * * LESSON VIII. HAUGH'TY, proud; disdainful. PAR TIC' U LAR LY, especially. TRANS ACT', do; perform. A BASH' ED, confused. DIS COV' ER, find out. EX AM' INE (_egz am' in_), look over; inspect. REC' TI FY, correct; make right. REC' OM PENSE, reward. DE SERVES', merits. DE CLIN' ING, failing. PRE VENT' ED, hindered. AP PRO BA' TION, approval. PRE'CEPTS, instructions; counsels. BEN E FAC' TOR, friend; one that benefits. A MASS' ED, gathered. A DAPT' ED, suited. CON FI DEN' TIAL, trusty; trusted. IN TEG' RI TY, honesty. FAITHFULNESS IN LITTLE THINGS. ELIZA A. CHASE. 1. "Is Mr. Harris in'?" inquired a plainly, but neatly dressed boy, twelve or thirteen years of age, of a clerk, as he stood by the counterof a large bookstore. The clerk regarded the boy with a haughty look, and answered: "Mr. Harris is in; but he is engaged. " 2. The boy looked at the clerk hesitatingly, and then said: "If he isnot particularly engaged, I would like to see him. " "If you have any business to transact, _I_ can attend to it, " repliedthe clerk. "Mr. Harris can not be troubled with boys like you. " 3. "What is this, Mr. Morley?" said a pleasant-looking man, stepping upto the clerk; "what does the boy want?" "He insisted on seeing you, though I told him you were engaged, "returned the clerk, a little abashed by the manner of his employer. 4. "And what do you wish to see me about, my lad?" inquired Mr. Harris, kindly. The boy raised his eyes, and, meeting the scornful glance of the clerk, said timidly: "I wish you to look at the bill of some books which Ibought here, about three months since. There is a mistake in it, which Iwish to correct. " 5. "Ah, my boy, I see, " replied Mr. Harris; "you have _overpaid_ us, Isuppose!" "No, sir, " answered the boy. "On the contrary, I purchased some bookswhich are _not charged_ in the bill, and I have called to pay for them. " 6. Mr. Harris looked at the boy earnestly for a moment, and then asked:"When did you discover this mistake?" "Not until I reached home, " replied the lad. "When I paid for the booksI was in a great hurry, fearing the boat would leave before I couldreach it, and I did not examine the bill. " 7. "Why did you not return before, and rectify the mistake?" asked thegentleman, in a tone slightly altered. "Because, sir, I live some distance from the city, and have not beenable to return till now. " 8. "My dear boy, " said Mr. Harris, "you have given me great pleasure. Ina long life of mercantile business, I have never met with an instance ofthis kind before. You have _acted nobly_ and deserve a recompense. " "I ask no recompense, " returned the boy. "_I have done nothing but myduty_--a simple act of justice, and that deserves no reward, butitself. " 9. "May I ask who taught you such noble principles'?" inquired Mr. Harris. "My mother', " answered the boy, bursting into tears. 10. "Blessed is the child who has such a mother, " said Mr. Harris, "andblessed is the mother of such a child. Be faithful to her teachings, mydear boy, and you will be the staff of her declining years. " "Alas, sir, " said the boy, "my mother is dead! It was her sickness anddeath which prevented me from coming here before. " 11. "What is your name?" inquired Mr. Harris. "Edward Delong. " "Have you a father living'?" "No, sir. My father died when I was an infant. " 12. "Where do you reside?" "In the town of Linwood, about fifty miles from this city. " "Well, my boy, what are the books which were forgotten?" "Tacitus and a Latin Dictionary. " 13. "Let me see the bill. Ha! signed by A. C. Morley. I will see tothat. Here, Mr. Morley!" called Mr. Harris; but the clerk was busilyengaged in waiting on a customer at the opposite side of the store, bowing and smiling in the most attentive manner. 14. "Edward, " continued Mr. Harris, "I am not going to _reward_ you forwhat you have done; but I wish to manifest my approbation of yourconduct in such a manner, as to make you remember the wise and excellentprecepts of your departed mother. Select from my store any ten books youchoose, which, in addition to the two you had before, shall be a_present_ to you; and henceforth, as now, my boy, remember and not'despise the day of small things. ' If ever you need a friend, call onme, and I will assist you. " 15. The grateful boy thanked his kind benefactor, and, with tears in hiseyes, bowed and left the store. Edward Delong wished for knowledge, and, though the scanty means lefthim by his mother, could hardly satisfy his desire, by diligence andeconomy he had advanced far beyond most boys of his age. By workingnights and mornings for a neighbor, he had amassed, what seemed to him, a large sum of money, and this was expended in books. 16. Edward's home was now with a man who regarded money as the chief endand aim of life, and severe and constant physical labor as the onlymeans of obtaining that end. For two years Edward struggled with hishopeless condition, toiling early and late to obtain a livelihood. 17. Edward now resolved to go to the city, to seek some employment, better adapted to promote his education. He entered the same store wherehe purchased the books, and inquired for Mr. Harris. "He is engaged, " replied the polite clerk. "If you will wait a moment, he will be at liberty. " 18. "Did you wish to see me?" asked Mr. Harris of the boy, whosethoughts were so intense that he had not noticed the approach of hisfriend. "Mr. Harris!" exclaimed Edward, and it was all he could say. For theremembrance of past favors bestowed on him by his kind benefactor, sofilled his heart with gratitude, that further utterance was denied. "My noble Edward!" said the old gentleman. "And so you needed a friend. Well, you shall have one. " 19. Five years from that time, Edward Delong was the confidential clerkof Mr. Harris, and, in three more, a partner in the firm. The integrityof purpose, which first won the regard of his benefactor, was his guidein after life. Prosperity crowned his efforts, and happiness blessed hisheart, --the never-failing result of _faithfulness in little things_. QUESTIONS. --1. Why did Edward Delong wish to see Mr. Harris? 2. Had heoverpaid for the books he purchased? 3. What did he say when Mr. Harristold him he deserved a recompense? 4. What books were not charged in thebill? 5. In what way did Mr. Harris manifest his approval of Edward'sconduct? 6. How long after this, before he again called on Mr. Harris?7. Why could he not, at first, talk with Mr. Harris? 8. What did Edwardfinally become? * * * * * LESSON IX. GRACE' FUL LY, beautifully. PROUD' LY, splendidly. FOR' EIGN (_for' en_), distant. CLIMES, countries; regions. SYM' BOL, sign; emblem. FEAR' FUL, dreadful; terrible. CAN' NON RY, discharge of cannon. JU' BI LEE, season of public joy. WIT' NESS ED, seen; beheld. NA' TIVE, birth-giving. BOON, gift; blessing. PAR' A DISE, blissful abode. THE AMERICAN BOY. SON. Father, look up, and see that flag! How gracefully it flies!Those pretty stripes, they seem to be A rainbow in the skies. FATHER. It is your country's flag, my boy, And proudly drinks the light, O'er ocean's wave, in foreign climes, A symbol of our might. SON. Father, what fearful noise is that, Now thundering in the clouds?Why do they, cheering, wave their hat, And rush along in crowds? FATHER. It is the voice of cannonry, The glad shouts of the free;This is a day of memory, 'Tis FREEDOM'S JUBILEE! SON. I wish that _I_ was now a man, _I'd free my country_ too, And cheer as loudly as the rest; But, father, why don't _you_? FATHER. I'm getting old and weak; but still My heart is big with joy;I've witnessed many a day like this, Shout you aloud, my boy! SON. (oo) HURRAH, FOR FREEDOM'S JUBILEE, God bless our native land!And may _I_ live to hold the boon Of _freedom_ in my hand. FATHER. Well done, my boy, grow up, and love The land that gave you birth, --A land where Freedom loves to dwell, -- A paradise on earth. QUESTIONS. --1. Of what is our flag a symbol? 2. What is meant by_Freedom's jubilee_? 3. What is the use of the apostrophes in the words_I'd_, _I'm_, _I've_, &c. * * * * * LESSON X. BIL' LOWS, waves; surges. DE LIGHT', joy; pleasure. DOOM, fate; end. TWINK' LES, sparkles. GLARE, bright, dazzling light. EX PANSE', surface; extent. SWEEP, pass or drive over. RIFE, filled; abounding. VOY' AGE, passage; journey. AN' CHOR ED, moored; fixed. HA' VEN, harbor. PEACE' FUL LY, quietly; calmly. THE SAILOR BOY'S SONG. WRITTEN BY A GIRL THIRTEEN YEARS OF AGE. 1. (_''_) Oh! the sea, the sea Is the place for me, With its billows blue and bright; I love its roar, As it breaks on the shore, And its danger to me is delight. 2. Oh! I love the wave, And the sailor brave, Who often meets his doom On the ocean vast, And sleeps his last In a shell and coral tomb. 3. And, in the night, The moon's soft light Smiles sweetly on the foamy billow: And many a star, As it twinkles afar, Seems to rise from a watery pillow. 4. In the noontide glare, Oh! bright and fair Is the wide expanse of ocean; In the morn's first light 'Tis a glorious sight, So full of life and motion. 5. When the tempests sweep The rolling deep, And the angry billows swell, I mind not the strife, Which to me is rife With thoughts that I can not tell. 6. When life's voyage is o'er, And I sail no more On the ocean's troubled breast, Safe anchored above, In the haven of love, May the sailor boy peacefully rest. QUESTIONS. --1. What is meant by _coral tomb_, 2d verse? 2. What, by_watery pillow_, third verse. * * * * * LESSON XI. FOUN DA' TION, commencement. DO MES' TI CA TED, tamed. FA' VOR ITE, one specially favored. CA RESS' ED, fondled; petted. GAM' BOL ING, skipping; frolicking. IM' PULSE, feeling of excitement. DI LAT' ED, distended. SPEC TA' TORS, observers; lookers on. EN DEAV' OR ED, tried; attempted. ANX' IOUS, very desirous. IN TER CEPT', (INTER, _between_; CEPT, _to take_ or _seize_;) to stop on the way. BE TRAY' ED, showed; disclosed. RE STRAIN' ED, held back; checked. COW' ED, depressed with fear. EN GRAV' ED, cut; inscribed. In this lesson every pause is marked with its appropriate inflection. CHASE OF THE PET FAWN. MISS COOPER. 1. Within twenty years from the foundation of our village', [Footnote:Cooperstown, New York. ] the deer had already become scarce', and', in abrief period later', they had almost entirely fled from the country`. One of the last of these beautiful creatures, a pretty little fawn, hadbeen brought in from the woods, when it was very young, and had beennursed and petted by a young lady in the village, until it becamecompletely domesticated. 2. It was graceful, as those little creatures always are, and so gentleand playful that it became a great favorite. Following the differentmembers of the family about, it was caressed and welcomed everywhere. One morning, after gamboling about as usual, until weary, it threwitself down in the sunshine, at the feet of one of its friends, upon thedoor-step of a store. 3. There came along a countryman, who, for several years, had been ahunter by pursuit, and who still kept several hounds, one of which cameto the village with him, on this occasion. The dog, as it approached theplace where the fawn lay, suddenly stopped; the little animal saw him, and darted to its feet. 4. It had lived more than half its life among the villagers, and hadapparently lost all fear of them; but it now seemed to knowinstinctively that an enemy was at hand. In an instant, its wholecharacter and appearance seemed changed; all its past habits wereforgotten; every wild impulse was awake; its head erect, its nostrilsdilated, its eyes flashing. 5. In another instant, before the spectators had thought of the danger, and before its friends could secure it, the fawn was leaping wildlythrough the street, and the hound in full chase. The by-standers wereeager to save it; several persons instantly followed its track; thefriends who had long fed and fondled it, were calling the name it hadhitherto known; but, in vain. 6. The hunter endeavored to call back his dog; but, with no bettersuccess. In half a minute, the fawn had turned the first corner, dashedonward toward the lake, and thrown itself into the water. But, if, for amoment, the startled creature believed itself safe in the lake, it wassoon undeceived; for the hound followed in hot and eager chase, while adozen village dogs joined in the pursuit. 7. A large crowd collected on the bank--men, women, andchildren, --anxious for the fate of the little animal. Some threwthemselves into boats, hoping to intercept the hound before he reachedhis prey. But the splashing of the oars, the voices of men and boys, andthe barking of the dogs, must have filled the beating heart of the poorfawn with terror and anguish; as if every creature on the spot where ithad once been caressed and fondled, had suddenly turned into a deadlyfoe. 8. It was soon seen that the fawn was directing its course across a bay, toward the nearest borders of the forest. Immediately the owner of thehound crossed the bridge, ran at full speed in the same direction, hoping to stop his dog as he landed. On swam the fawn, as it had neverswam before; its delicate head scarcely seen above the water, butleaving a disturbed track which betrayed its course alike to anxiousfriends and fierce enemies. 9. As it approached the land, the interest became intense. The hunterwas already on the same side of the lake, calling loudly and angrily tohis dog; but the animal seemed to have quite forgotten his master'svoice in the pitiless pursuit. The fawn touched the land; in one leap, it had crossed the narrow piece of beach, and, in another instant, itwould reach the cover of the woods. 10. The hound followed true to the scent, aiming at the same spot on theshore. His master, anxious to meet him, had run at full speed, and wasnow coming up at the same critical moment. Would the dog listen to hisvoice? Could the hunter reach him in time to seize and control him? Ashout from the spectators proclaimed that the fawn had passed out ofsight into the forest. At the same instant, the hound, as he touched theland, felt the hunter's strong arm clutching his neck. 11. The worst was believed to be over; the fawn was leaping up themountain-side, and its enemy restrained. The other dogs, seeing theirleader cowed, were easily managed. A number of men and boys dispersedthemselves through the wood in search of the little creature; but, without success. They all returned to the village, reporting that theanimal had not been seen by them. Some persons thought that, after itsfright had passed over, it would return of its own accord. 12. It wore a pretty collar with its owner's name engraved upon it, sothat it could be easily known from any other fawn, that might bestraying about the woods. Before many hours had passed, a hunterpresented himself before the lady, whose pet the little creature hadbeen, and showed a collar with her name upon it. He said that he was outhunting in the morning, and saw a fawn in the distance. The littlecreature, instead of bounding away as he expected, moved toward him. Hetook aim, fired, and shot it to the heart. 13. When he found the collar about its neck, he was very sorry he hadkilled it. One would have thought that that terrible chase would havemade it afraid of man; but no; _it forgot the evil_, and _remembered thekindness only_; and came to meet, as a friend, the hunter who shot it. It was long mourned by its best friend. QUESTIONS. --1. Where did the lady reside who kept this pet fawn? 2. Isthere a lake near that village? 3. What river rises in that lake? 4. Describe the chase of the pet fawn. 5. How came it to be shot? 6. Whatdid it forget, and what remember? * * * * * LESSON XII. IN' FLU ENCE, moral power. DROOP' ED. Bent over; languished. TING' ED, stained; colored. DEL' I CATE, soft; tender. TRIB' UTE, pay; requital. CASE' MENT, window. PERCH' ED, alighted. PLAINT' IVE, sorrowful. AF FRIGHT' ED, alarmed. TIM' ID, fearful; timorous. RE STRAIN' ED, held back. AT TEST', bear witness. SUA' SION, act of persuading. COM PLI' ANCE, submission. PAL' ED, inclosed. DE BAS' ED, degraded. DE' VI ATE, wander; stray. LE' NI ENT, mild; merciful. KINDNESS. KATE CLARENCE. 1. Not _man_ alone, but _every thing_ in nature, owns its influence. Iknew a little flower that sprang up amidst the weeds and brambles of along-neglected garden; but soon drooped its slender stem, and its leavesgrew tinged from the waste around. 2. I took it to my home, supported its drooping stem, and placed itwhere the warm sunshine and refreshing showers cheered its little life. Again it raised its beautiful head, and its delicate buds burst forth ingladness; and when the winds of autumn came, the dying flower gave up tome its golden seeds--a thankful tribute for my love. 'Twas a littlething, but _kindness_ did the deed. 3. There came to my casement, one winter's morning, a shivering, starving bird, and perched itself there, striving to tell its tale ofsuffering; but feeble were its plaintive notes, and its glossy breastwas ruffled in the blast. I raised the window. Affrighted, the littlewanderer spread its wings, as if to soar away; but, weak and faint, itsank fluttering in my outstretched hands. I drew it in. Alarmed, itdarted round and round the room, and beat against the frosted pane. _OCruelty! thou hast taught even the little birds to doubt!_ 4. When the little stranger grew less timid, I gave it clear water, andtempting food, and so, for many weeks, we dwelt together; but when camethe first warm, sunny day, I opened my doors, and it flew away, --_awayup, up_ into the dark-blue heavens, till it was lost to my eager gaze. 5. But not an hour had passed, ere I heard the flutter of its tinywings, and saw, without, its little breast glittering in the goldensunbeams. It had a joyous life. No wired cage restrained its restlesswing; but, free as the summer cloud, would it come each day, and gladlywould my delighted soul drink in the silvery notes of its gladdeningmelody. 6. And it is not _birds_ and _flowers_ alone, that, treated with kindnessflourish so brightly 'neath its heaven-born rays. Individuals, families, nations, attest its truth. _Legal suasion_ may frighten to compliance, but _moral suasion_ rules the will. 7. To the erring wanderer, in the by and forbidden paths of sin, with aheart paled in darkness, and lost to every better feeling of his nature, one little word, one little act of kindness, however slight, will find asunny resting-place in that sinful shade, and prove a light to guide thewayward one to holier and better deeds. The lion licked the hand thatdrew the thorn from his wounded foot; and Powhatan stayed the descendingclub, when the burning lips of the Indian girl pressed the prisoner's[Footnote: Captain Smith] pallid brow. 8. And it is _ever_ thus. There beats not a heart, however debased bysin, or darkened by sorrow, that has not its noblest impulses aroused, in view of a _generous and kindly action_. The Holy Father implanted Hisown pure principles in the breast of _every one_, and widely do wedeviate from their just dictates, when an unkind word, or an unkind act, wounds a broken heart, or crushes a loving, gentle nature. 9. "_Speak not harshly_, --much of care Every human heart must bear; Enough of shadows rudely play Around the very sunniest way; Enough of sorrows darkly lie Vailed within the merriest eye. By thy childhood's gushing tears, By thy grief in after years, By the anguish thou dost know, _Add not to another's woe. _ 10. "_Speak not harshly_, --much of sin Dwelleth every heart within; In its closely caverned cells, Many a wayward passion dwells. By the many hours misspent, By the gifts to error lent, By the wrongs thou didst not shun, By the good thou hast not done, With a lenient spirit scan The weakness of thy brother man. " QUESTIONS. --1. On what has kindness an influence? 2. What influence hadit upon the little flower? 3. What, upon the little bird? 4. What issaid of cruelty? 5. What is said of legal and moral suasion? 6. What issaid of the lion? 7. Of Powhatan? 8. Why ought we not to speak harshly? * * * * * LESSON XIII. SHAFT, arrow; _here_, careless word. MES' SEN GERS, message-bearers. PANG, distress; anguish. SPELLS, charms; enchantments. SEAL' ED, closed up; under seal. SEP' UL CHER, (_ch_ like _k_), grave; tomb. SUM' MON ED, called. AG' O NY, extreme suffering. WRING, writhe. UN A WARES, unconsciously. MIN' GLES, unites; mixes. EN DEAR' ING, kind; affectionate. E CLIPSE', darkness; obscuration. CHER' ISH ED, fostered. EN SHRIN' ED, sacredly preserved. UT' TER ED, expressed. CARELESS WORDS. 1. Oh, never say a careless Word Hath not the power to pain; The shaft may ope some hidden wound, That closes not again! Weigh _well_ those light-winged messengers; God marked your heedless Word, And with it, too, the falling tear, The heart-pang that it stirred. 2. Words! what are Words? A simple Word Hath spells to call the tears, That long have lain a sealed fount, Unclosed through mournful years. Back from the unseen sepulcher, A Word hath summoned forth A form that hath its place no more Among the things of Earth, 3. Words! heed them well; some whispered one Hath yet a power to fling A shadow on the brow, the soul In agony to wring; A name, forbidden, or forgot, That sometimes, unawares, Murmurs upon our wak'ning lips, And mingles in our prayers. 4. Oh, Words! sweet Words! A blessing comes Softly from kindly lips; Tender, endearing tones, that break The Spirit's drear eclipse. Oh! are there not some cherished tones In the deep heart enshrined? Uttered but once--they passed--and left A track of light behind. QUESTIONS. --1. What is said of _careless words_? 2. What, of _sweetwords_? 3. What is the use of the apostrophe in _wak'ning_, third verse?4. What is the meaning of the suffix _less_, in the words _careless, heedless_? See SANDERS' NEW SPELLER, DEFINER, AND ANALYZER, page 143, Ex. 369. * * * * * LESSON XIV. VEG' E TA BLES, plants. DEP RE DA' TION, robbery; plunder. CAP TUR' ING, catching. TRES' PASS ER, transgressor. AP PEAL' ED, referred. COUN' SEL, lawyer; advocate. AR' GU MENT, plea; reason. URG' ING, enforcing; advocating. MIS' CHIEV OUS, hurtful; injurious. PRAC' TI CAL, pertaining to practice. DIS TIN' GUISH ED, celebrated. JU' RIST, one versed in law. AF FECT' ED, moved; impressed. FUR' NISH ED, supplied. VI' O LA TED, broken; transgressed. DE PRIVE', rob; hinder. AL LUD' ED, referred; adverted. RE STORE', give back. WEBSTER AND THE WOODCHUCK. BOSTON TRAVELER. 1. Ebenezer Webster, the father of Daniel, was a farmer. The vegetablesin his garden had suffered considerably from the depredations of awoodchuck, which had his hole or habitation near the premises. Daniel, some ten or twelve years old, and his older brother Ezekiel, had set atrap, and finally succeeded in capturing the trespasser. 2. Ezekiel proposed to kill the animal, and end, at once, all furthertrouble from him; but Daniel looked with compassion upon his meek, dumbcaptive, and offered to let him again go free. The boys could not agree, and they appealed to their father to decide the case. 3. "Well, my boys, " said the old gentleman, "_I_ will be the _judge_. There is the _prisoner_, (pointing to the wood-chuck, ) and _you_ shallbe the _counsel_, and plead the case _for_ and _against_ his life andliberty. " 4. Ezekiel opened the case with a strong argument, urging themischievous nature of the criminal, the great harm he had already done;said that much time and labor had been spent in his capture, and now, ifhe were suffered to live and go again at large, he would renew hisdepredations, and be cunning enough not to suffer himself to be caughtagain. 5. He urged, further, that his skin was of some value, and that, to makethe most of him they could, it would not repay half the damage he hadalready done. His argument was ready, practical, to the point, and ofmuch greater length than our limits will allow us to occupy in relatingthe story. 6. The father looked with pride upon his son, who became a distinguishedjurist in his manhood. "Now, Daniel, it is _your_ turn: I'll hear what_you_ have to say. " 7. It was his first case. Daniel saw that the plea of his brother hadsensibly affected his father, the judge; and as his large, brilliant, black eyes looked upon the soft, timid, expression of the animal, and hesaw it tremble with fear in its narrow prison-house, his heart swelledwith pity, and he urged, with eloquent words, that the captive mightagain go free. 8. "God, " he said, "had made the woodchuck; he made him to live, toenjoy the bright sunlight, the pure air, the free fields and woods. Godhad not made him, or _any_ thing, in vain; the woodchuck had as muchright to life as any _other_ living thing. " 9. "He was not a destructive animal, as the wolf and the fox were; hesimply ate a few common vegetables, of which they had plenty, and couldwell spare a part; he destroyed nothing except the little food he neededto sustain his humble life; and that little food was as sweet to him, and as necessary to his existence, as was to them the food upon theirmother's table. " 10. "God furnished to them food; he gave them all they possessed; andwould they not spare a little for the dumb creature, that really had asmuch right to his small share of God's bounty, as they themselves had totheir portion?" 11. "Yea, more, the animal had never violated the laws of his nature orthe laws of God, as man often did; but strictly followed the simple, harmless instincts he had received from the hand of the Creator of allthings. Created by God's hand, he had a right--a right from God--tolife, to food, to liberty; and they had no right to deprive him ofeither. " 12. He alluded to the mute, but earnest pleadings of the animal for thatlife, as sweet, as dear to him, as their own was to them, and the justjudgment they might expect, if, in selfish cruelty and coldheartlessness, they took the life they could not restore--the life thatGod alone had given. 13. During this appeal, the tears had started to the old man's eyes, andwere fast running down his sun-burnt cheeks; every feeling of a father'sheart was stirred within him; he saw the future greatness of his sonbefore his eyes, he felt that God had blessed him in his children, beyond the lot of most men. 14. His pity and sympathy were awakened by the eloquent words ofcompassion, and the strong appeal for mercy; and, forgetting the judgein the man and father, he sprang from his chair, (while Daniel was inthe midst of his argument, without thinking he had already won hiscase, ) and, turning to his older son, dashing the tears from his eyes, exclaimed, "_Ezekiel, Ezekiel, you let that woodchuck go!_" QUESTIONS. --1. What did Ezekiel propose to do with the woodchuck afterhe was caught? 2. What argument did he offer for so doing? 3. What didDaniel wish to do with him? 4. What argument did he offer? 4. What wastheir father's decision? * * * * * LESSON XV. SOLVE, explain; work out. PROB' LEM, question for solution. COM PELL' ED, obliged. IN' DO LENT, idle; lazy. DINT, force; means. CON' SCIOUS, self-perceived; felt. DEM ON STRA' TION, formal proof. RE CLIN' ING, leaning back. PON' DERS, weighs; examines. PROC' ESS, operation. DO IT YOURSELF. 1. Do not ask the teacher or some classmate to solve that hard problem. DO IT YOURSELF. You might as well let him eat your dinner as "do yoursums" for you. It is in studying as in eating; _he who does it_, getsthe benefit, and not _he who sees it done_. In almost any school, theteacher learns more than the best scholars, simply because he iscompelled to solve all the difficult problems, and answer all thequestions of the indolent pupils. 2. Do not ask your teacher to parse that difficult word, or assist youin the performance of any of your studies. DO IT YOURSELF. Never mind, though they _do_ look dark. Do not ask even a hint from any one. TRYAGAIN. Every trial increases your ability, and you will finally succeedby dint of the very wisdom and strength gained in the effort, eventhough, at first, the problem was beyond your skill. It is the _study_, and not the _answer_, that really rewards your labor. 3. Look at that boy, who has just succeeded after six hours of hardstudy. How his large eye is lit up with a proud joy, as he marches tohis class! He treads like a conqueror! And well he may. Last night hislamp burned, and this morning he waked at dawn. Once or twice he nearlygave it up. He had tried his last thought; but a new thought strikeshim, and he ponders the last process. He tries once more, and succeeds;and now mark the air of conscious strength with which he pronounces hisdemonstration. 4. His poor, weak schoolmate, who gave up that same problem, after hisfirst trial, now looks up to him with something of a wonder, as asuperior being. And he _is_ his superior. That problem lies there, agreat gulf between those boys who stood side by side yesterday. 5. The boy who _did it for himself_, has taken a stride upward, and whatis better still, _has gained strength_ to take other and better ones. The boy who waited to see _others do it_, has lost both strength andcourage, and is already looking for some good excuse to give up schooland study forever. 6. DO IT YOURSELF. Remember the counsel given to the artist, who layreclining upon his couch, and wondering what the fates would work outfor him. Directing his attention to a block of unhewn marble, with achisel lying by its side, the sculptor in the vision is represented asthus addressing him: "Sir, "There's the marble, there's the chisel, Take it, work it to thy will; _Thou alone_ must shape thy future, Heaven send thee strength and skill!" QUESTIONS. --1. Who is benefited in studying? 2. What really rewards thelabor of study? 3. What is said of the boy who succeeded after six hoursof hard study? 4. What, of the boy who gave up, after the first trial?5. What counsel was given to the artist who wondered what the fateswould work out for him? How are the words to be read, which are printed in Italics and incapitals? See page 22, Note III. * * * * * LESSON XVI. SLACK' EN, relax; lessen. EN DEAV' OR, effort; exertion. WHOLE' SOME, useful; salutary. EX CEL', surpass; outdo. OUT STRIP' PED, outrun; excelled. SUR PASS' ED, excelled. VIC' TO RY, conquest; triumph. UT' TER MOST, very best. DAR' ING, courage; bravery. DE FECT', fault; deficiency. REPIN'ING, fretting; complaining. UN A VAIL' ING, vain; useless. COR RECT', amend; make right. MAX' IM, proverb; saying. BETTER LATE THAN NEVER. 1. _Life is a race_, where some succeed, While others are beginning; 'Tis luck, at times, at others, speed, That gives an early winning. But, if you chance to fall behind, Ne'er slacken your endeavor; Just keep this wholesome truth in mind: _'Tis better late than never!_ 2. If you can keep ahead, 'tis well; But never trip your neighbor; 'Tis noble when you can excel By honest, patient labor. But, if you are outstripped, at last, Press on, as bold as ever; Remember, though you are surpassed, _'Tis better late than never!_ 3. Ne'er labor for an idle boast Of victory o'er another; But, while you strive your uttermost, Deal fairly with a brother. Whate'er your station, do your best, And, hold your purpose ever; And, if you fail to beat the rest, _'Tis better late than never!_ 4. Choose well the path in which you run, -- Succeed by noble daring; Then, though the last, when once 'tis won, Your crown is worth the wearing. Then never fret, if left behind, Nor slacken your endeavor; But ever keep this truth in mind: _'Tis better late than never!_ 5. Yet, would you cure this sad defect, Repining's unavailing; Begin, _at once_, and _now_ correct This very common failing. _This day_ resolve, --_this very hour, _ Nor e'en a moment wait; Go, make this better maxim yours, -- _'Tis better never late!_ QUESTIONS. --1. To what is life compared, first verse? 2. What advice isgiven _if you chance to fall behind?_ 3. How ought you to treat yourcompetitors? 4. What is a very common failing? 5. How may it becorrected? 6. What is the use of the apostrophe in the word_repining's_, fifth verse? * * * * * LESSON XVII. A DOPT' ED, taken as one's own. PIL' LAR ED, supported by pillars. TWI' LIGHT, faint light after sunset and before sunrise. THYME, (_time_, ) fragrant plant. VINE' YARD, plantation of grapevines. DYE, hue; color. SPARK' LING, emitting bubbles. THE ADOPTED CHILD. MISS. HEMANS. LADY. Why wouldst thou leave me, O gentle child? _Thy home_ on the mountains is bleak and wild, A straw-roofed cabin with lowly wall; _Mine_ is a fair and a pillared hall, Where many an image of marble gleams, And the sunshine of picture forever streams. BOY. Oh, green is the turf where my brothers play, Through the long, bright hours of the summer-day; They find the red cup-moss where they climb, And they chase the bee o'er the scented thyme; And the rocks where the heath-flower blooms they know, Lady, kind lady! oh, let me go! LADY. Content thee, boy, in my bower to dwell; Here are sweet sounds which thou lovest well, -- Flutes on the air in the stilly noon, Harps which the wandering breezes tune, And the silvery wood-note of many a bird Whose voice was ne'er in thy mountains heard. BOY. My mother sings, at the twilight's fall, A song of the hills, far more sweet than all; She sings it under our own green tree, To the babe half-slumbering on her knee; I dreamed, last night, of that music low, -- Lady, kind lady! oh, let me go! LADY. (_pl. _) Thy mother hath gone from her cares to rest; She hath taken the babe on her quiet breast; Thou wouldst meet her footstep, my boy, no more, Nor hear her song at the cabin-door: Come thou with me to the vineyards nigh, And we'll pluck the grapes of the richest dye. BOY. Is my mother gone from her home away?-- But I know that my brothers are there at play, I know they are gathering the fox-glove's bell, Or the long fern leaves by the sparkling well; Or they launch their boats where the bright streams flow, Lady, kind lady! oh, let me go! LADY. Fair child, thy brothers are wanderers now, They sport no more on the mountain's brow; They have left the fern by the spring's green side, And the streams where the fairy barks were tried: Be thou at peace in thy brighter lot, For thy cabin-home is a lonely spot. BOY. Are they gone, all gone from the sunny hill? But the bird and the blue-fly rove o'er it still, And the red deer bound in their gladness free, And the heath is bent by the singing bee, And the waters leap, and the fresh winds blow, -- Lady, kind lady! oh, let me go! QUESTIONS. --1. What kind of words are _straw-roofed, heath-flower, wood-note, _ &c. ? 2. What is the use of the apostrophes in the words_o'er, ne'er, twilight's_, &c. ? * * * * * LESSON XVIII. AP PAR' ENT LY, evidently. CEN' TU RY, hundred years. GI GAN' TIC, very large. SPE' CIES, sort; kind. DI MEN' SION, size; bulk. SUB LIME', grand; magnificent. UN MO LEST' ED, free from disturbance. DIS PERS' ED, separated; scattered. CLAM' OR OUS, noisy; importunate. IN DE CIS' ION, doubt; irresolution. POIS' ED, balanced. AT' MOS PHERE, surrounding air. TAL' ONS, claws. DIS TRI BU' TION, division. EC' STA SY, excessive joy; transport. PER' SE CUT ED, harassed; injured. THE OLD EAGLE TREE. REV. JOHN TODD. 1. In a remote field stood a large tulip tree, apparently of a century'sgrowth, and one of the most gigantic of that splendid species. It lookedlike the father of the surrounding forest. A single tree, of hugedimensions, standing all alone, is a sublime object. 2. On the top of this tree, an old eagle, commonly called the "FishingEagle, " had built her nest every year, for many years, and, unmolested, raised her young. What is remarkable, as she procured her food from theocean, this tree stood full ten miles from the sea-shore. It had longbeen known as the "Old Eagle tree. " 3. On a warm, sunny day, the workmen were hoeing corn in an adjoiningfield. At a certain hour of the day, the old eagle was known to set offfor the sea-side, to gather food for her young. As she this day returnedwith a large fish in her claws, the workmen surrounded the tree, and, byyelling, and hooting, and throwing stones, so scared the poor bird thatshe dropped her fish, and they carried it off in triumph. 4. The men soon dispersed; but Joseph sat down under a bush near by, towatch, and to bestow unavailing pity. The bird soon returned to her nestwithout food. The eaglets at once set up a cry for food, so shrill, soclear, and so clamorous, that the boy was greatly moved. 5. The parent bird seemed to try to soothe them; but their appetiteswere too keen, and it was all in vain. She then perched herself on alimb near them, and looked down into the nest with a look that seemed tosay, "I know not what to do next. " 6. Her indecision was but momentary; again she poised herself, utteredone or two sharp notes, as if telling them to "lie still, " balanced herbody, spread her wings, and was away again for the sea! 7. Joseph was determined to see the result. His eyes followed her tillshe grew small, smaller, --a mere speck in the sky, --and thendisappeared. What boy has not often watched the flight of the bird ofhis country in this way? 8. She was gone nearly two hours, about double her usual time for avoyage, when she again returned, on a slow, weary wing, flyinguncommonly low, in order to have a heavier atmosphere to sustain her, with another fish in her talons. 9. On nearing the field, she made a circuit around it, to see if herenemies were again there. Finding the coast clear, she once more reachedher tree, drooping, faint, and weary, and evidently nearly exhausted. Again the eaglets set up their cry, which was soon hushed by thedistribution of a dinner, such as--save the cooking--a king mightadmire. 10. "GLORIOUS BIRD!" cried the boy in ecstacy, and aloud; "what aspirit! Other birds can fly swifter, others can sing more sweetly, others can scream more loudly; but what _other bird_, when persecutedand robbed--when weary--when discouraged--when so far from sea, --wouldhave done this! 11. "GLORIOUS BIRD! I will learn a lesson from thee to-day. I will neverforget hereafter, that when the spirit is determined, it can do almostanything. Others would have drooped and hung the head, and mourned overthe cruelty of man, and sighed over the wants of the nestlings; but_thou, _ by at once recovering the loss, hast forgotten all. 12. "I will learn of thee, _noble bird!_ I will remember this. I willset my mark high. I will try to do something, and to be something in theworld; _I will never yield to discouragements. "_ QUESTIONS. --1. How far was this Old Eagle tree from the seashore? 2. Inwhat way did the workmen obtain the fish she brought for her young? 3. What is said of the eaglets and the parent bird, when she returned tothe nest? 4. What did she then do? 5. What did Joseph say when shereturned with another fish? * * * * * LESSON XIX. AUC' TION, vendue; public sale. HOME' LESS, (LESS, _without or destitute of, _) without home. PEN' NI LESS, destitute of pennies. WASTE' LESS, without waste. UN LIGHT' ED, (UN, _not_, ) not lighted. SELF' ISH NESS, devoted to one's self. RE VERSE' (RE, _back_ or _again_; VERSE, _turn_), turn back, or exchange places. AC QUIRE', gain; obtain. IL LUS TRA' TION, explanation. SOL' I TA RY, single. DIS PEL', drive away; disperse. BE NIGHT' ED, unenlightened. THE LIGHT OF KNOWLEDGE. ELIHU BURRITT. 1. Knowledge can not be stolen from you. It can not be bought or sold. You may be _poor_, and the sheriff come into your house, and sell yourfurniture at auction, or drive away your cow, or take your lamb, andleave you homeless and penniless; but he can not lay the law's hand uponthe _jewelry of your mind_. This can not be taken for debt; neither canyou _give it away_, though you give enough of it to fill a millionminds. 2. I will tell you what such giving is like. Suppose, now, that therewere no sun nor stars in the heavens, nor any thing that shone in theblack brow of night; and suppose that a lighted lamp were put into yourhand, which should burn wasteless and clear amid all the tempests thatshould brood upon this lower world. 3. Suppose next, that there were a thousand millions of human beings onthe earth with you, each holding in his hand an unlighted lamp, filledwith the same oil as yours, and capable of giving as much light. Supposethese millions should come, one by one, to you, and light each his lampby yours, would they rob you of any light? Would less of it shine onyour own path? Would your lamp burn more dimly for lighting a thousandmillions? 4. Thus it is, young friends. In getting rich in the things which perishwith the using, men have often obeyed to the letter that firstcommandment of selfishness: _"Keep what you can get, and get what youcan. "_ In filling your minds with the wealth of knowledge, you mustreverse this rule, and obey this law: _"Keep what you give, and givewhat you can. "_ 5. The fountain of knowledge is filled by its _outlets, _ not by itsinlets. You can _learn_ nothing which you do not _teach;_ you canacquire nothing of intellectual wealth, except by _giving. _ In theillustration of the lamps, which I have given you, was not the light ofthe thousands of millions which were lighted at yours, as much yourlight, as if it all came from your solitary lamp? Did you not dispeldarkness by giving away light? 6. Remember this parable, and, whenever you fall in with an unlightedmind in your walk of life, drop a kind and glowing thought upon it fromyours, and set it a-burning in the world with a light that shall shinein some dark place to beam on the benighted. QUESTIONS. --1. What is said of knowledge? 2. What is the giving ofknowledge like? 3. In getting rich, what precept have men obeyed? 4. What precept must be obeyed in getting knowledge? 5. How is knowledgebest acquired? 6. What is meant by the _jewelry of the mind, _ firstparagraph? 7. What, by _intellectual wealth, _ fifth paragraph? * * * * * LESSON XX. EX TIN' GUISH ED, put out. SOL' EMN, grave; serious. GAR' RI SON, fortress furnished with soldiers, for defense. SEN' TI NEL, soldier on guard. CAR A VAN, company of traveling traders or pilgrims. CON STEL LA' TIONS, clusters of fixed stars. BRILL' IANT, shining; sparkling. HOST, great multitude. EX' TRA, additional. CRES' CENT, form of the new moon. HAIL' ED, saluted. EF FUL' GENCE, splendor. RE' GEN CY, rule; government. WAN' ING, decreasing. SUP PLI CA TION, prayer; petition. RAPT' URE, great joy; transport. [Headnote 1: PAL' ES TINE includes that part of Turkey in Asia, lying onthe eastern borders of the Mediterranean Sea. ] NIGHT'S LESSONS. L. H. SIGOURNEY. 1. The lessons of our school are over. The lights in the distant windowsare extinguished, one after the other. The village will soon be lost inslumber. When all the men and the women are asleep, must we keep awaketo learn lessons? 2. In large cities, there may be heard, now and then, the rushing wheelof the traveler. The watchmen pace their round, and cry, _"All iswell. "_ In the long, cold nights of Norway, the watchmen who guard thecapitol, pronounce, in a solemn tone, "God bless our good city ofBergen!" 3. In the garrison, or the endangered fortress, the armed sentinel keepswatch, lest they should be surprised by the foe. But in this peacefulvillage there is no need of either sentinel or watchman. Why may we notgo to sleep, instead of learning Night's lessons? 4. My son, one of these you may learn in a moment. Did you say that allwill soon be sleeping? No! there is one Eye that never slumbers. He whomade all the people, keepeth watch above the everlasting hills. Commityourself to His care. 5. Now, will you learn with me the second lesson of the night? Lift youreyes to yon glorious canopy. Seest thou not there a sentinel, set by theEternal, at the northern gate of heaven, --the pole-star? 6. The pole-star! Blessings are breathed upon it, by the weary caravan, fearing the poisonous wind of the desert, --by the red forest-children, seeking their home beyond the far Western prairies, --and by the lonelymariner, upon the pathless ocean. 7. The stars! See them! The oil in their lamps never burns out. Theseglorious constellations wheel their mighty course unchanged, while "mandieth and wasteth away, yea, man giveth up the ghost, and where is he?"[Footnote: Job, 14th chap. , 10th verse. ] 8. Yon brilliant orbs maintain their places, while countless generationspass away, and nations disappear and are forgotten. Let us bow inhumility before "Him who bringeth out their host by number, who calleththem all by names, by the greatness of His might, for that He is strongin power; not one faileth. " [Footnote: Isaiah. 40th chap. , 26th verse. ] 9. Thirteen times in the year, Night, the teacher, gives extra lessons. Will you be there to learn them? First, she hangs up a pale crescent inthe west. The ancient Jews hailed its infant beam, and answering firesof joy were kindled on the hills of Palestine. [Headnote 1] 10. Next, she summons forth a rounded orb, clad in full effulgence, andcommits to it the regency when the sun retires. Lastly, a slender, waning crescent appears nightly, like an aged man, ready to descend intothe night of the tomb. 11. "Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the listening earth, Repeats the story of her birth; While all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole. " 12. These are some of Night's lessons. Are you tired of them? Or, willyou learn one more? Lift up your heart to Him who has given you the pastday, with thanks for its blessings, --with penitence for itsfaults, --with supplication for strength and wisdom for the time that isto come. 13. "Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showethknowledge" [Footnote: Psalm 19th, 2nd verse. ] of God. Thus, meekly andfaithfully studying Night's lessons, may we find "Even sorrow, touched by Heaven, grows bright With more than rapture's ray, As darkness shows us worlds of light, We never saw by day. " QUESTIONS. --1. Who watches over us when asleep? 2. In what way is thepole-star useful to man? 3. What is said of the stars? 4. What extralessons is it that night gives thirteen times a year? 5. Describe thefirst appearance of the moon. 6. How does it next appear? 7. Where isPalestine? 8. Where are the passages to be found, quoted in the 7th, 8th, and 13th paragraphs? 9. Do you know who is the author of the 11thverse? Ans. Addison. * * * * * LESSON XXI. HID' DEN, secret; concealed. QUAIL, sink; droop. SCORN' ING, disdaining. GREET' ING, salutation. VIEW' LESS, not to be seen. YEARN' ETH, longeth. CHANT, sing; carol. PORT' AL, entrance; gate-way. CHEER' Y, gay; lively. E TER' NI TY, endless duration. NATURE'S TEACHINGS. CHAMBERS' JOURNAL. FIRST VOICE. 1. Sunlight! tell the hidden meaning Of the rays thou lettest fall; Are they lessons writ in burning, Like God's warning on the wall? SECOND VOICE. Strive, O man, to let a loving Spirit cheer the sad and poor; So shall many a fair hope blossom, Where none grew before! FIRST VOICE. 2. Stars! what is it ye would whisper, With your pure and holy light? Looking down so calm and tender From the watch-tower of the night. SECOND VOICE. When thy soul would quail from scorning, Keep a brave heart and a bold; As we always shine the brightest When the nights are cold. FIRST VOICE. 3. Hast thou not a greeting for me, Heaven's own happy minstrel-bird'? Thou whose voice, like some sweet angel's, Viewless, in the cloud is heard'? SECOND VOICE. Though thy spirit yearneth sky-ward, Oh, forget not human worth! I, who chant at heaven's portal, Build my nest on earth. FIRST VOICE. 4. River! river'! singing gayly From the hill-side all day long, Teach my heart the merry music Of thy cheery, rippling song. SECOND VOICE. Many winding ways I follow; Yet, at length, I reach the sea. Man, remember that _thy_ ocean Is ETERNITY! QUESTIONS. --1. What is meant by _God's warning on the wall?_ See the 5thchap. Of Daniel. 2. What is meant by _minstrel-bird?_ Ans. The lark. * * * * * LESSON XXII. GLARE, dazzling light. BLITHE' LY, gayly; joyfully. WROUGHT, worked; labored. RE MORSE', painful regret. WANE, decrease; grow less. FAN' CIES, whims; notions. A NON. _'_ is an abbreviation of _anonymous_, which means _without name; nameless_. See SANDERS' ANALYSIS, page 88, Exercise 108. SOWING AND HARVESTING. ANON. 1. They are sowing their seed in the daylight fair, They are sowing their seed in the noonday's glare, They are sowing their seed in the soft twilight, They are sowing their seed in the solemn night; _What_ shall their harvest be? 2. They are sowing their seed of pleasant thought, In the spring's green light they have blithely wrought; They have brought their fancies from wood and dell, Where the mosses creep, and the flower-buds swell; _Rare_ shall the harvest be! 3. They are sowing the seeds of word and deed, Which the cold know not, nor the careless heed, -- Of the gentle word and the kindest deed, That have blessed the heart in its sorest need; _Sweet_ shall the harvest be! 4. And some are sowing the seeds of pain, Of late remorse, and in maddened brain; And the stars shall fall, and the sun shall wane, Ere they root the weeds from the soil again; _Dark_ will the harvest be! 5. And some are standing with idle hand, Yet they scatter seeds on their native land; And some are sowing the seeds of care, Which their soil has borne, and still must bear; _Sad_ will the harvest be! 6. They are sowing the seed of noble deed, With a sleepless watch and an earnest heed; With a ceaseless hand o'er the earth they sow, And the fields are whitening where'er they go; _Rich_ will the harvest be! 7. Sown in darkness, or sown in light, Sown in weakness, or sown in might, Sown in meekness, or sown in wrath, In the broad work-field, or the shadowy path, SURE will the harvest be! QUESTIONS. --1. Who are meant by _they_ in this lesson? 2. What is saidof those who are _sowing the seeds of word and deed?_ 3. What, of thosewho are sowing the _seeds of care?_ 4. Repeat the last verse. 5. Whatpassage of Scripture teaches the same idea? Ans. "Whatsoever a mansoweth, that shall he also reap. "--Gal. , 6th chap. , 7th verse. * * * * * LESSON XXIII. FOR' TI FI ED, strengthened by works of art for defense. SUL' TRY, close; oppressively hot. BOAT' SWAIN, one who has charge of a ship's boats, rigging, &c. TARS, sailors. MOOR' ED, anchored. BUOYS, floats. AN' CHOR, iron instrument for holding ships. STAR' BOARD, right side of a ship. FORE' CAS TLE, short deck in the fore part of a ship. WAKE, track. BE REFT', deprived. IM' MI NENT, impending. PIERC' ED, went through. FORE AND AFT, before and behind. SWAY' ED, swung; moved. CAR' CASS, dead body. EX CITE' MENT, agitation. PHA' SES, forms; appearances. [Headnote 1: SA HA' RA, is a Great Desert in Africa, lying south of theBarbary States, and extending from the Atlantic on the west to Egypt andNubia on the east. The winds that come from this desert, are hot andsuffocating. ] A THRILLING INCIDENT. ANON. 1. Our noble ship lay at anchor in the Bay of Tangier, a fortified townin the extreme northwest of Africa. The day had been extremely mild, with a gentle breeze sweeping to the northward and westward; but, towardthe close of the afternoon, the sea-breeze died away, and one of thosesultry, oven-like breathings came from the great, sun-burnt Sahara[Headnote 1]. 2. Half an hour before sundown, the captain gave the cheering order forthe boatswain to call the hands to "go in swimming;" and, in less thanfive minutes, the forms of our tars were seen leaping from the arms ofthe lower yards, into the water. One of the studding sails, with itscorners suspended from the main yard-arm and the swinging boom, had beenlowered into the water, and into this most of the swimmers made theirway. 3. Among those who seemed to be enjoying the sport most heartily, weretwo of the boys, Timothy Wallace and Frederic Fairbanks, the latter ofwhom was the son of our old gunner; and, in a laughing mood, theystarted out from the studding sail on a race. There was a loud ringingshout of joy on their lips as they put off, and they darted through thewater like fishes. The surface of the sea was smooth as glass, thoughits bosom rose in long, heavy swells that set in from the Atlantic. 4. The vessel was moored with a long sweep from both cables, and one ofthe buoys of the anchor was far away on the starboard quarter, where itrose and fell with the lazy swells of the waves. Toward this buoy thetwo lads made their way, young Fairbanks taking the lead; but, when theywere within about twenty or thirty fathoms of the buoy, Wallace shotahead and promised to win the race. 5. The old gunner had watched the progress of his little son with agreat degree of pride; and when he saw him drop behind, he leaped uponthe quarter-deck, and was just upon the point of urging him on by ashout, when a cry was heard that struck him with instant horror. 6. "_A shark! a shark!_" was sounded from the captain of the forecastle;and, at the sound of these terrible words, the men who were in thewater, leaped and plunged toward the ship. Right abeam, at the distanceof three or four cables' lengths, was seen the wake of a shark in thewater, where the back of the monster was visible. His course was for theboys. 7. For a moment, the gunner stood like one bereft of reason; but, on thenext, he shouted at the top of his voice, for the boys to turn; but theyheard him not. Stoutly the two swimmers strove for the goal, allunconscious of their imminent danger. Their merry laugh still rang overthe waters, and, at length, they both touched the buoy together. 8. Oh, what agony filled the heart of the gunner! A boat had put off, but he knew that it could not reach the boys in season, and every momenthe expected to see the monster sink from sight, --_then_ he knew that allhope would be gone. At this moment, a cry reached the ship, that piercedevery heart, --the boys had discovered their enemy. 9. The cry started the old gunner to his senses, and quicker thanthought, he sprang from the quarter-deck. The guns were all loaded andshotted, fore and aft, and none knew their temper better than he. Withsteady hand, made strong by sudden hope, the old gunner seized apriming-wire and picked the cartridge of one of the quarter guns; thenhe took from his pocket a percussion cap, fixed it in its place, and setback the hammer of the patent lock. 10. With a giant strength the old man swayed the breech of the heavy gunto its bearing, and then seizing the string of the lock, he stood backand watched for the next swell that would bring the shark in range. Hehad aimed the piece some distance ahead of his mark; but yet a littlemoment would settle his hopes and fears. 11. Every breath was hushed, and every heart in that old ship beatpainfully. The boat was yet some distance from the boys, while thehorrid sea-monster was fearfully near. Suddenly the air was rent by theroar of the heavy gun; and, as the old man knew his shot was gone, hesank back upon the hatch, and covered his face with his hands, as ifafraid to see the result of his own efforts; for, if he had failed, heknew that his boy was lost. 12. For a moment after the report of the gun had died away upon the air, there was an unbroken silence; but, as the dense smoke arose from thesurface of the water, there was, at first, a low murmur breaking fromthe lips of the men, --that murmur grew louder and stronger, till itswelled to a joyous, deafening shout. The old gunner sprang to his feet, and gazed off on the water, and the first thing that met his view, wasthe huge carcass of the shark, floating on his back--a mangled, lifelessmass. 13. In a few moments, the boats reached the daring swimmers, and, greatly frightened, they were brought on board. The old man clasped hisboy in his arms, and then, overcome by the powerful excitement, heleaned upon a gun for support. I have seen men in all the phases ofexcitement and suspense, but never have I seen three human beings moreovercome by thrilling emotions, than on that startling moment when theyfirst knew the effect of our gunner's shot. QUESTIONS. --1. Where is the town of Tangier? 2. What order had beengiven by the captain of the vessel? 3. Who seemed most to enjoy thesport? 4. What is said of the old gunner? 5. What did he do? 6. Whateffect did his shot produce? 7. Describe the closing scene. * * * * * LESSON XXIV. DIS GUISE', concealment. WAY' LAID, beset by the way. THREAT' EN ED, declared the intention. IN CLINE, dispose. RUF' FIANS, robbers; murderers. DIS TRIB'UTE, divide; apportion. TREAS' UR Y, place for keeping money. ALMS, gifts; donations. MI' SER LY, covetous; niggardly. SAL' A RY, wages; allowance for services. IN VOLV' ING, entangling. BE WIL' DER ED, puzzled; perplexed. LOG' IC, reasoning. SAGE, wise man. FUL FILL' ING, performing. E VA' SION, departure from truth. DE CEIT', deception; fraud. THE TRUTHFUL KING. 1. A certain Persian king, while traveling in disguise, with but fewattendants, was waylaid by robbers, who threatened to take not only hisgoods, but his life. 2. Feeling himself beyond the reach of human aid, he inwardly made avow, that if God would incline the hearts of these ruffians to mercy, and restore him in safety to his family and people, he would distributeall the money then in his treasury, in alms to the needy of his realm. 3. The robbers, from some unknown cause, liberated him, and he soonreached home in safety, having sustained no injury, save the loss of thesmall purse of gold that he had carried in his girdle. 4. Desirous of keeping the vow he had made, he summoned his officers, and commanded them to make immediate distribution to the poor, of allthat the treasury contained, at the time of his return. 5. But his officers, more miserly than himself, and, fearful that theymight fall short in their salaries and pensions, began to urge upon themonarch the folly of keeping this rash vow, and the danger of thusinvolving himself and his kingdom in difficulties. 6. Finding he still remained firm, they took other grounds, andplausibly argued that the troops and other officials needed aid as wellas the poor; and, as by the _words_ of his vow, he had bound himself todistribute the contents of the treasury to those who had claim torelief, the public servants certainly came within the required limits. 7. Bewildered by their false logic, and sincerely desirous of doingright, he appealed to a certain sage who dwelt near the royal palace, and determined to abide by his decision. 8. The sage, after hearing the case, only asked the following simplequestion: "Of whom were you thinking when you made the vow, --the poor, or the public servants?" The monarch replied, "Of the poor. " "Then, "answered the sage, "it is to the _poor_ you are bound to distributethese funds; for you are not _really_ fulfilling your vow, unless you dothat which you intended to do when it was made. " The king was satisfiedthat this was the right decision, and did as the sage advised. 9. Let the young bear in mind that God is a being of truth, requiringtruth in the inward heart; and, if they would have His approval, andthat of their own consciences, they must avoid not only the _outward_appearance of falsehood, but the slightest evasion or deceit; and whenpromises have been made, fulfill not only the _letter_, but the _spirit_of that which they agreed to perform. 10. Beware of the first and slightest departure from truth, of the leastendeavor to deceive, and even of the desire to have others believe whatis not so. Let your motto be, _"The truth, the whole truth, and nothingbut the truth. "_ QUESTIONS. --1. What happened to a certain Persian king? 2. What vow didhe then make? 3. What objection did his officers make to this? 4. Whatdid the king then do? 5. What was the sage's decision? 6. What mottoought you to adopt? 7. What rule for spelling the word _traveling_ withone _l_? See SANDERS & McELLIGOTT'S ANALYSIS, page 13, Rule 10. * * * * * LESSON XXV. EN TIC' ES, allures; leads astray. PRE TEXT, pretense; false reason. PRO FANE, pollute; defile, TEMP TA' TION, allurement. IN' LY, within; in the heart. DE CLARES, says; asserts. CHAFE, vex; provoke. MAL' ICE, hatred; malevolence. AV' A RICE, excessive love of money. FORE GO', give up; renounce. MAM' MON, god of wealth; riches. IN DIG' NANT, with anger; disdainfully. LU' CRE, gain; profit. EM PRISE', enterprise; undertaking. SURE' TY, security. O VER THROW', subvert; destroy. CON TEMPT', scorn; disdain. SOR' CER ESS, enchantress. EX PEL', (EX, _out_; PEL, _to drive_) drive out; banish. RE SIST', (RE, _again_; SIST, _to stand_, ) stand again; hence, to withstand. See SANDERS and McELLIGOTT'S ANALYSIS, page 90, Ex. 113; also, page 110, Ex. 142. WHEN SHALL I ANSWER NO? J. N. McELLIGOTT. 1. When FALSEHOOD fair entices thee Against the truth to go, No matter what the pretext be, Be thy firm answer, --No! 2. When RASHNESS would thy tongue profane With language vile and low, O, make the gross temptation vain, By answering inly, --No! 3. When PRIDE the silly wish declares, That thou should'st fashion know, And lifts thy head with empty airs, Be wise, and answer, --No! 4. When ENVY would thy spirit chafe, That others prosper so, On calm contentment resting safe, Expel her with a--No! 5. When MALICE foul, or deadly HATE, Would turn thee on a foe, And dark, revengeful thirst create, In horror answer, --No! 6. When sluggish SLEEP, with folded arms, Would make thee health forego, ('')Rise up at once, resist her charms; _Act out_ the answer, --No! 7. When AVARICE would, with heartless speed, Shout out the sight of woe, And whisper joy from Mammon's greed, Indignant answer, --No! 8. When filthy LUCRE lifts her hand, Ungodly gains to show, Though she should promise all the land, Be thy prompt answer, --No! 9. When greedy GAIN, or rash EMPRISE, Would have thee surety go, Keep Wisdom's words [Footnote 1] before thine eyes, And firmly answer, --No! 10. When mad AMBITION would seduce, The _right_ to overthrow, And turn the selfish passions loose, In mercy answer, --No! 11. When foul CONTEMPT of Holy Writ Would in thy bosom sow The wish to be where scorners sit, [Footnote 2] Let Conscience answer, --No! 12. When SIN, indeed, whate'er her style, Would have thee with her go; Stay not to hear the Sorceress vile, But leave her with a--No! [Footnote 1: Prov. , 11th Chap. , 15th verse. ] [Footnote 2: 1st Psalm, 1st verse. ] * * * * * LESSON XXVI. PE RUSE', read; study. AL LOT' TED, assigned. ME RID' I AN, noon; mid-day. GEN' U INE, true; real. ART' FUL, cunning; crafty. MIM' ICK ED, pretended; counterfeited. PRE SIDE', have sway or rule. DE MER' IT, ill-desert; defect. RU' BY, precious stone. PUP' PET, little image. DE TER' MINE, decide; find out. ER' MINE, fine fur--(of the ermine. ) CAP' TOR, one who takes a prize. SCEP' TERS, emblems of authority. CHA' RY, careful; wary. MYS' TIC, secret; mysterious. We have seldom seen any thing so full of wit, truth, and practicalwisdom, as this poem inscribed. TO MASTERS ROBERT AND JOHN. 1. Take this book, my boys, Earnestly peruse it; Much of after lies In the way ye use it: Keep it neat and clean; For, remember, in it, Every stain that's seen, Marks a thoughtless minute. 2. Life is like a book, Time is like a printer, Darting now his look Where has gloomed no winter. Thus he'll look, and on, Till each page allotted, Robert, thee and John, Printed be or blotted. 3. Youth's a sunny beam, Dancing o'er a river, With a flashing gleam, Then away forever. Use it while ye may, Not in childish mourning, -- Not in childish play, But in _useful learning_. 4. As your years attain Life's meridian brightness, Hourly seek and gain _Genuine politeness:_ This lives not in forms, As too many teach us, -- Not in open arms, Not in silken speeches, 5. Not in haughty eye, Not in artful dealing, Not within the sigh Of a mimicked feeling: But its lights preside Rich in nature's splendor, Over honest pride, Gentleness and candor. 6. Slight ye not the soul For the frame's demerit; Oft a shattered bowl Holds a mighty spirit: Never search a breast By thy ruby's glances; Pomp's a puppet guest, Danced by circumstances. 7. What is good and great, Sense can soon determine; Prize it though ye meet, Or in rags or ermine. Fortune's truly blind; Fools may be her captors; But the _wealth of mind_ Stands above their scepters. 8. Value not the lips Swiftest kept in motion, Fleetly-sailing ships Draw no depth of ocean: Snatch the chary gleam, From the cautious knowing For the deepest stream Scarcely lisps 'tis flowing. 9. Cull from bad and good Every seeming flower, Store it up as food For some hungry hour: Press its every leaf, And remember, Johnny, Even weeds the chief May have drops of honey. 10. Pomp and power alone Never make a blessing; Seek not e'en a throne By one wretch distressing. Better toil a slave For the blood-earned penny, Than be rich, and have A curse on every guinea. 11. Think, my gentle boys, Every man a brother! _That's where honor lies, _ Nay, but _greatness_ rather: One's the mystic whole, Lordly flesh won't know it; But the kingly soul, Sees but vice below it. 12. Robert, thoughts like these, Store you more than money; Read them not to please, But to practice, Johnny. Artless though their dress, As an infant's dimple, _Truth is none the less_ _For being truly simple. _ QUESTIONS. --1. What did the writer tell Robert and John to do with thebook, given them? 2. What use did he tell them to make of Youth? * * * * * LESSON XXVII. AV A RI'' CIOUS, greedy after gain. IN' TI MATE, close in friendship. EA' GER NESS, ardent desire. FRU GAL' I TY, wise economy. AC QUI SI'' TIONS, gains. AF' FLU ENCE, great wealth. SUC' CES SION, regular order. MOIL' ING, drudging; laboring. DIS CON TIN' U ED, ceased. AS SI DU' I TY, untiring diligence. DIS GUST' ED, greatly dissatisfied. IN DULG' ED, gratified. MON' STROUS, very large. SUC CEED' ING, following. MAT' TOCK, pick-ax. UN DER MINE', dig under. O' MEN, sign; token. IM AG' IN ED, conceived. WHANG, THE MILLER. GOLDSMITH. 1. Whang, the miller, was naturally avaricious; nobody loved moneybetter than he, or more respected those that had it. When people wouldtalk of a rich man in company, Whang would say, "_I_ know him very well, _he_ and _I_ have been very long acquainted; _he_ and _I_ are intimate. " 2. But, if a poor man was mentioned, he had not the least knowledge ofthe man; he might be very well, for aught _he_ knew; but he was not fondof making many acquaintances, and loved to choose his company. 3. Whang, however, with all his eagerness for riches, was poor. He hadnothing but the profits of his mill to support him; but, though thesewere small, they were certain: while it stood and went, he was sure ofeating; and his frugality was such, that he, every day, laid some moneyby; which he would, at intervals, count and contemplate with muchsatisfaction. 4. Yet still his acquisitions were not equal to his desires; he onlyfound himself above want; whereas he desired to be possessed ofaffluence. One day, as he was indulging these wishes, he was informedthat a neighbor of his had found a pan of money under ground, havingdreamed of it three nights in succession. 5. These tidings were daggers to the heart of poor Whang. "Here am I, "said he, "toiling and moiling from morning till night for a few paltryfarthings, while neighbor Thanks only goes quietly to bed, and dreamshimself into thousands before morning. Oh, that I could dream like him!With what pleasure would I dig round the pan! How slyly would I carry ithome! Not even my wife should see me! And then, oh the pleasure ofthrusting one's hands into a heap of gold up to the elbows!" 6. Such reflections only served to make the miller unhappy. Hediscontinued his former assiduity; he was quite disgusted with smallgains; and his customers began to forsake him. Every day he repeated thewish, and every night laid himself down in order to dream. Fortune, thatwas for a long time unkind, at last, however, seemed to smile upon hisdistress, and indulged him with the wished-for vision. 7. He dreamed that under a certain part of the foundation of his mill, there was concealed a monstrous pan of gold and diamonds, buried deep inthe ground, and covered with a large flat stone. He concealed his goodluck from every person, as is usual in money-dreams, in order to havethe vision repeated the two succeeding nights, by which he should becertain of its truth. His wishes in this, also, were answered; he stilldreamed of the same pan of money, in the very same place. 8. Now, therefore, it was past a doubt; so, getting up early the thirdmorning, he repaired, alone, with a mattock in his hand, to the mill, and began to undermine that part of the wall to which the visiondirected. The first omen of success that he met with, was a broken ring;digging still deeper, he turned up a house-tile, quite new and entire. 9. At last, after much digging, he came to a broad flat stone; but thenit was so large, that it was beyond his strength to remove it. "_There_, " cried he in raptures to himself, "_there it is!_ under thisstone, there is room for a very large pan of diamonds indeed. I muste'en go home to my wife, and tell her the whole affair, and get her toassist me in turning it up. " Away, therefore, he goes, and acquaints hiswife with every circumstance of their good fortune. 10. Her raptures, on this occasion, may easily be imagined; she flewround his neck, and embraced him in an agony of joy. But thesetransports, however, did not allay their eagerness to know the exactsum; returning, together, to the place where Whang had been digging, there they found--not, indeed, the expected treasure--but the mill, their only support, undermined and fallen! QUESTIONS. --1. Upon what was Whang, the miller, dependent for support?2. Why was he not satisfied? 3. What did he say to himself, after theinformation he had received from a neighbor? 4. What effect had suchreflections upon him? 5. What did he dream three nights successively? 6. What did he do? 7. What was the result? * * * * * LESSON XXVIII. PO LITE' NESS, good manners. FI DEL' I TY, faithfulness. IN CU BA' TION, act of hatching eggs. REC RE A' TION, pastime; amusement. DE MURE' LY, gravely; with affected modesty. AP PRE CI A' TION, estimate. LITHE, nimble; flexible. EX' IT, departure; going out. ARCH' I TECTS, (_ch_, like _k_, ) builders. SA LI' VA, spittle. SE CRETE', to deposit; produce. CON'' GRE GATE, collect together. FLEDG' ED, furnished with feathers. DO MAIN', realm; kingdom. AC COM MO DA' TIONS, conveniences. MI' GRATE, remove; travel. SPHERE, (_ph_ like _f_, ) circuit of action. CHIMNEY-SWALLOWS. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 1. Every one knows, who lives in the country, what a chimney-swallow is. They are among the birds that seem to love the neighborhood of man. Manybirds there are, that nestle confidingly in the protection of theirsuperiors, and are seldom found nesting or breeding far from humanhabitations. 2. The wren builds close to your door. Sparrows and robins, if welltreated, will make their nests right under your window, in some favoritetree, and will teach you, if you choose to go into the business, how tobuild birds' nests. 3. A great deal of politeness and fidelity may be learned. The femalebird is waited upon, fed, cheered with singing, during her incubation, in a manner that might give lessons to the household. Nay, when sheneeds exercise and recreation, her husband very demurely takes herplace, and keeps the eggs warm in the most gentlemanly way. 4. Barn-swallows have a very sensible appreciation of the pleasures ofan ample barn. A barn might not be found quite the thing to live in, (although we have seen many a place where we would take the barn soonerthan the house, ) but it is one of the most charming places in asummer-day to lounge, read, or nap in. 5. And, as you lie on your back upon the sweet-scented hay-mow, or uponclean straw thrown down on the great floor, reading books of naturalhistory, it is very pleasant to see the flitting swallows glance in andout, or course about under the roof, with motion so lithe and rapid asto seem more like the glancing of shadows than the winging of birds. Their mud-nests are clean, if they _are_ made of dirt; and you wouldnever dream, from their feathers, what sort of a house they lived in. 6. But, it was of _chimney-swallows_ that we began to write; and theyare just now roaring in the little, stubbed chimney behind us, to remindus of our duty. Every evening we hear them; for a nest of young onesbrings the parents in with food, early and late, and every entrance orexit is like a distant roll of thunder, or like those old-fashionedrumblings of high winds in the chimney, which made us children thinkthat all out-of-doors was coming down the chimney in stormy nights. 7. These little architects build their simple nests upon the sides ofthe chimney with sticks, which they are said to break off from deadbranches of trees, though they might more easily pick them up alreadyprepared. But they, doubtless, have their own reasons for cutting theirown timber. Then these are glued to the wall by a saliva which theysecrete, so that they carry their mortar in their mouths, and use theirbills for trowels. 8. When the young are ready to leave, they climb up the chimney to thetop, by means of their sharp claws, aided by their tail-feathers, whichare short, stiff, and at the end armed with sharp spines. Two broods arereared in a season. From the few which congregate in any oneneighborhood, one would not suspect the great numbers which assemble atthe end of the season. Audubon estimated that _nine thousand_ entered alarge sycamore-tree, every night, to roost, near Louisville, Kentucky. 9. Sometimes the little nest has been slighted in building, or theweight proves too great, and down it comes into the fire-place, to thegreat amusement of the children, who are all a-fever to hold in theirhands these clean, bright-eyed little fellows. Who would suspect thatthey had ever been bred in such a flue? 10. And it was just this thought that set us to writing. Because a birdlives in a chimney, he need not be _smutty_. There is many a finefeather that lives in a chimney-corner. Nor are birds the _only_instances. Many men are born in a garret, or in a cellar, who fly out ofit, as soon as fledged, as fine as any body. A lowly home has rearedmany high natures. 11. On these bare sticks, right against the bricks, in this smoky flue, the eggs are laid, the brooding goes on, the young are hatched, fed, grown. But then comes the day when they spread the wing, and the wholeheaven is theirs! From morning to night, they can not touch the boundsof their liberty! 12. And, in like manner, it is with the human soul that has learned toknow its liberty. Born in a body, pent up, and cramped, it seemsimprisoned in a mere smoky flue for passions. But, when once faith hastaught the soul that it has wings, then it begins to fly; and flying, finds that all God's domain is its liberty. 13. And, as the swallow that comes back to roost in its hard hole atnight, is quite content, so that the morning gives it again all thebright heavens for its soaring-ground, so may men, close quartered andcramped in bodily accommodations, be quite patient of their narrowbounds, for their thoughts may fly out every day gloriously. 14. And as, in autumn, these children of the chimney gather in flocks, and fly away to heavens without a winter, so men shall find a day whenthey, too, shall migrate; and, rising into a higher sphere, withoutstorm or winter, shall remember the troubles of this mortal life, asbirds in Florida may be supposed to remember the northern chills, whichdrove them forth to a fairer clime. QUESTIONS. --1. What birds seem to love the neighborhood of man? 2. Inwhat respects may men be like birds? * * * * * LESSON XXIX. The first part of each verse, or that portion read by the _First Voice_, should be expressed in a slow and despondent tone of voice: the secondpart, or that read by the _Second Voice_, should be expressed in a moresprightly and cheerful manner. THE DOUBTING HEART. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER. FIRST VOICE. 1. Where are the swallows fled? Frozen and dead, Perchance, upon some bleak and stormy shore. SECOND VOICE. O doubting heart! Far over purple seas, They wait, in sunny ease, The balmy southern breeze, To bring them to their northern homes once more. FIRST VOICE. 2. Why must the flowers die? Poisoned they lieIn the cold tomb, heedless of tears or rain. SECOND VOICE. O doubting heart! They only sleep below The soft, white ermine snow, While winter winds shall blow, To breathe and smile upon you soon again. FIRST VOICE. 3. The sun has hid its rays These many days;Will dreary hours never leave the earth? SECOND VOICE. O doubting heart! The stormy clouds on high Vail the same sunny sky, That soon, (for Spring is nigh, )Shall wake the Summer into golden mirth. FIRST VOICE. 4. Fair Hope is dead, and light Is quenched in night. What sound can break the silence of despair? SECOND VOICE. O doubting heart! The sky is overcast, Yet stars shall rise at last, Brighter for darkness past, And angels' silver voices stir the air. * * * * * LESSON XXX. DECK'ED, dressed; arrayed. TRAIL'ING, hanging down; following one after another. UN FAIL'ING, constant; continually. UN PLI'ANT, stiff; unbending. DE FI'ANT, daring; bidding defiance. VES'PER, evening. CRISP'ER, more brittle. TREAS'URES, wealth; riches. MER'IT, desert; goodness. IN HER'IT, occupy; possess. MOR'SEL, bit; small piece. WAIL'ING, loudly lamenting. RAIL'ING, clamoring. THE COMING OF WINTER. T. B. READ. 1. Autumn's sighing, Moaning, dying, Clouds are flying On like steeds; While their shadows O'er the meadows. Walk like widows Decked in weeds. 2. Red leaves trailing, Fall unfailing, Dropping, sailing, From the wood, That, unpliant, Stands defiant, Like a giant Dropping blood. 3. Winds are swelling Round our dwelling, All day telling Us their woe; And, at vesper, Frosts grow crisper, As they whisper Of the snow. 4. From th' unseen land, Frozen inland, Down from Greenland, Winter glides, Shedding lightness Like the brightness When moon-whiteness Fills the tides. 5. Now bright Pleasure's Sparkling measures With rare treasures Overflow! With this gladness Comes what sadness! Oh, what madness, Oh, what woe! 6. Even merit May inherit Some bare garret, Or the ground; Or, a worse ill, Beg a morsel At some door-sill, Like a hound. 7. Storms are trailing, Winds are wailing, Howling, railing, At each door. 'Midst this trailing Howling, railing, List the wailing Of the poor! QUESTIONS. --1. What is the first sign of the coming of winter? 2. What, the second? 3. What, the third? 4. What are some of the pleasures ofwinter? 5. What is said of the poor in winter? 6. What is the use of theapostrophes in the words _autumn's, o'er, pleasure's, 'midst, _ &c. ? * * * * * LESSON XXXI. LIVE' LONG, whole; entire. EAVES, edges of a roof. E' VEN TIDE, evening. STRIV' EN, struggled; contended. RE LIEV' ED, mitigated; alleviated. WRETCH' ED NESS, distress; destitution. OF FENSE', fault; crime. PEN' I TENCE, repentance; contrition. EL' O QUENT LY, forcibly; persuasively. CHILD TIRED OF PLAY. N. P. WILLIS. 1. Tired of play`! tired of play`! What hast thou done this livelong day`? The birds are silent', and so is the bee`; The sun is creeping up steeple and tree`; The doves have flown to the sheltering eaves', And the nests are dark with the drooping leaves'; Twilight gathers', and day is done`, -- How hast them spent it`, --restless one'? 2. Playing`? But what hast thou done beside, To tell thy mother at eventide`? What promise of morn is left unbroken`? What kind word to thy playmates spoken`? Whom hast thou pitied, and whom forgiven`? How with thy faults has duty striven`? What hast thou learned by field and hill, By greenwood path, and by singing rill`? 3. There will come an eve to a longer day', That will find thee tired`, --but not of play'! And thou wilt lean, as thou leanest now, With drooping limbs, and aching brow, And wish the shadows would faster creep, And long to go to thy quiet sleep. _Well_ were it then, if thine aching brow Were as free from sin and shame as now! _Well_ for thee, if thy lip could tell A tale like this, of _a day spent well_. 4. If thine open hand hath relieved distress', -- If thy pity hath sprung to wretchedness', -- If thou hast forgiven the sore offense', And humbled thy heart with penitence', -- If Nature's voices have spoken to thee With her holy meanings eloquently', -- If every creature hath won thy love', From the creeping worm to the brooding dove', -- If never a sad, low-spoken word Hath pled with thy human heart unheard', -- _Then_`, when the night steals on, as now, It will bring relief to thine aching brow, And, with joy and peace at the thought of rest, Thou wilt sink to sleep on thy mother's breast. QUESTIONS. --1. What had the child been doing? 2. What questions did themother ask? 3. What did she tell the child would come? 4. What is meantby _eve to a longer day_, third verse? 5. What, by _quiet sleep_, sameverse? 6. What ought we to do in life, in order to have a joyful andpeaceful death? 7. What rule for the rising inflection on _restlessone_, first verse? See page 32, Note I. 8. What rule for the fallinginflection on _playing_, second verse? See page 29, Rule II. 9. Whatrule for the rising inflections in the fourth verse? Rule V. , page 31. * * * * * LESSON XXXII. NORTH-EAST' ERS, north-east winds. EX HAUST' ED, (_x_ like _gz_, ) tired out. VIG' I LANT, watchful. DE TECT' ED, discovered. LEE' WARD, pertaining to the part toward which the wind blows. RE CED' ING, retiring; passing away. BRILL' IAN CY, brightness; luster. TILL' ER, bar used to turn the rudder. TORT' URE, anguish of spirit. DE SERT' ED, relinquished; abandoned. RA PID' I TY, speed; swiftness. EN VEL' OP ED, inclosed; covered. GEN' ER A TED, produced. LETH' AR GY, drowsiness; dullness. RES' CUE, deliverance. IN EV' I TA BLY, surely; certainly. ES PY' ING, seeing; discovering. CON' TACT, (CON, _together_; TAC, _touch_, ) a touching together; close union. THE RESCUE. BY A SEA CAPTAIN. 1. On a bright moonlight night, in the month of February, 1831, when itwas intensely cold, the little brig which I commanded, lay quietly ather anchors, inside of Sandy Hook. We had had a hard time, beating aboutfor eleven days off this coast, with cutting north-easters blowing, andsnow and sleet falling for the most part of that time. 2. Forward, the vessel was thickly coated with ice, and it was hard workto handle her; as the rigging and sails were stiff, and yielded onlywhen the strength of the men was exerted to the utmost. When we, atlength, made the port, all hands were worn down and exhausted. 3. "A bitter cold night, Mr. Larkin, " I said to my mate, as I tarriedfor a short time upon deck. The worthy down-easter buttoned his coatmore tightly around him, and, looking up to the moon, replied, "It's awhistler, captain; and nothing can live comfortably out of blanketsto-night. " 4. "The tide is running out swift and strong, and it will be well tokeep a sharp look-out for this floating ice, Mr. Larkin, " said I, as Iturned to go below. "Ay, ay, sir, " responded the faithful mate. 5. About two hours afterward, I was aroused from a sound sleep by thevigilant officer. "Excuse me for disturbing you, captain, " said he, ashe detected an expression of vexation in my face, "but I wish you wouldturn out, and come on deck as soon as possible. " 6. "What's the matter, Mr. Larkin, " said I. "Why, sir, I have beenwatching a large cake of ice, which swept by at a distance, a momentago; and I saw something black upon it, something that I thought moved. The moon is under a cloud, and I could not see distinctly; but I believethere is a child floating out to the sea, this freezing night, on thatcake of ice. " 7. We were on deck before either spoke another word. The mate pointedout, with no little difficulty, the cake of ice floating off to theleeward, with its white, glittering surface broken by a black spot. "Getthe glass, Mr. Larkin, " said I; "the moon will be out of that cloud in amoment, and then we can see distinctly. " 8. I kept my eye upon the receding mass of ice, while the moon wasslowly working her way through a heavy bank of clouds. The mate stood byme with the glass; and when the full light fell upon the water with abrilliancy only known in our northern latitudes, I put the glass to myeye. One glance was enough. 9. (_''_)"_Forward, there!_" I hailed at the top of my voice; and, withone bound, I reached the main hatch, and began to clear away the littlecutter, which was stowed in the ship's yawl. Mr. Larkin had taken theglass to look for himself, "_There are two children on that cake ofice!_" he exclaimed, as he hastened to assist me in getting out theboat. 10. The men answered my hail, and walked quickly aft. In a short spaceof time, we launched the cutter, into which Mr. Larkin and myselfjumped, followed by the two men, who took the oars. I rigged the tiller, and the mate sat beside me in the stern sheets. 11. "Do you see that cake of ice with something black upon it, my lads?Put me alongside of that, and I'll give you a month's extra wages whenyou are paid off, " said I to the men. 12. They bent to their oars, but their strokes were uneven and feeble;for they were worn out by the hard duty of the preceding fortnight; and, though they did their best, the boat made little more headway than thetide. It was a losing chase, and Mr. Larkin, who was suffering tortureas he saw how little we gained, cried out, "_Pull, lads! I'll double thecaptain's prize: two months' extra pay: pull, lads! pull for life!_" 13. A convulsive effort at the oars told how willing the men were toobey; but the strength of the strong man was gone. One of the poorfellows washed us twice in recovering his oar, and then gave out; andthe other was nearly as far gone. Mr. Larkin sprang forward and seizedthe deserted oar. "Lie down in the bottom of the boat, " said he to theman; "and, captain, take the other oar; we must row for ourselves. " 14. I took the second man's place. Larkin had stripped off his coat, and, as he pulled the bow, I waited for the signal stroke. It camegently, but firm; and the next moment we were pulling a long, steadystroke; gradually increasing in rapidity, until the wood seemed to smokein the row-locks. We kept time, each by the long, deep breathing of theother. 15. Such a pull! We bent forward until our faces almost touched ourknees; and then throwing all our strength into the backward movement, drew on the oar until every inch covered by the sweep was gained. Thuswe worked at the oars for fifteen minutes; and it seemed to me as manyhours. The sweat rolled off in great drops, and I was enveloped in asteam generated from my own body. 16. "Are we almost up to it, Mr. Larkin?" I gasped out. "Almost, captain, " said he: "and _don't give up!_ for the love of our dear littleones at home: _don't give up_, captain!" The oars flashed as theirblades turned up to the moonlight, for the men who plied them werefathers, and had fathers' hearts. 17. Suddenly Mr. Larkin ceased pulling; and my heart, for a moment, almost stopped its beating; for the terrible thought that he had givenout, crossed my mind. But I was re-assured by his voice, (_p_) "Gently, captain, gently: a stroke or two more: there, that will do;" and thenext moment Mr. Larkin sprang upon the ice. I started up, and, callingto the men to make fast the boat to the ice, followed him. 18. We ran to the dark spot in the center of the mass, and found twolittle boys. The head of the smaller was resting in the bosom of thelarger; and both were fast asleep. The lethargy, which would have beenfatal but for the timely rescue, had overcome them. 19. Mr. Larkin grasped one of the lads, cut off his shoes, tore off hisjacket, and then, loosening his own garments to the skin, placed thecold child in contact with his own warm body, carefully wrapping hisovercoat around him. I did the same with the other child, and we thenreturned to the boat. 20. The children, as we learned when we had the delight of restoringthem to their parents, were playing on the cake of ice, which had jammedinto a bend of the river, about ten miles above New York. A movement ofthe tide set the ice in motion, and the little fellows were borne away, that cold night, and would have inevitably perished, but for Mr. Larkin's espying them as they were sweeping out to sea. 21. "How do you feel, Mr. Larkin?" I said to the mate, the morning afterthis adventure. "A little stiff in the arms, captain, " the noble fellowreplied, while the big tears of grateful happiness gathered in hiseyes, --"a little stiff in the arms, captain, but very easy here, "laying his hand on the rough chest in which beat a true and manly heart. My quaint down-easter, He who lashes the seas into fury, and lets loosethe tempest, will care for thee! The storms may rage without, but in_thy_ bosom peace and sunshine abide always. QUESTIONS. --1. Describe the condition of the vessel as she lay at anchorinside Sandy Hook. 2. What did the captain say to Mr. Larkin, as heretired to rest? 3. Why did Mr. Larkin wake up the captain? 4. What didthey discover on a cake of ice, floating out to sea? 5. Who went totheir rescue? 6. What did the captain say to the rowers of the boat? 7. What did Mr. Larkin say to them? 8. Did they finally succeed in rescuingthe children? 9. How came the two boys to be on that cake of ice? 10. What did Mr. Larkin say, when the captain asked him how he felt? * * * * * LESSON XXXIII. A DORN' ED, decorated; embellished. SPOILS, booty; prey. ANT' LERS, branching horns. SUS PEND' ED, hung; atatched. DIS TRACT' ED, disturbed; disordered. FU' GI TIVE, runaway; wanderer. BE SET', hemmen in; surrounded. TRAI' TORS, betrayers. HEATH, place overgrown with shrubs. LIEGE, lord; sovereign. LOY' AL, true; faithful. FE' AL TY, loyalty; fidelity. MA' TRON, married woman. REC OG NIZ' ED, knew; recollected. IN VAD' ERS, persons invading. ROBERT BRUCE AND THE SCOTCH WOMAN. ANON. 1. Many years ago, an old Scotch woman sat alone, spinning by thekitchen fire, in her little cottage. The room was adorned with thespoils of the chase, and many implements of war and hunting. There werespears, bows and arrows, swords, and shields; and, against the side ofthe room, hung a pair of huge antlers, once reared on the lordly brow ofa "stag of ten, " [Footnote: That is, a stag ten years old. The age ofthe animal is known by the number of prongs or tines, each year one newprong being added. ] on which were suspended skins, plaids, bonnets, andone or two ponderous battle-axes. 2. The table, in the middle of the floor, was spread for supper, andsome oatmeal cakes were baking before the fire. But the dame was notthinking of any of _these things_, nor of her two manly sons, who, in anadjoining room, were busily preparing for the next day's sport. 3. She was thinking of the distracted state of her native land, and ofthe good king, Robert Bruce, a fugitive in his own kingdom, beset, onevery hand, by open enemies and secret traitors. "Alas!" thought she, "to-night I dwell here in peace, while to-morrow may see me driven outinto the heath; and even now our king is a wanderer, with no shelter forhis weary limbs. " 4. A loud knock at the door broke in upon her musings. She rose, trembling with fear, to unbar the entrance, and beheld a man closelymuffled in a cloak. "My good woman, " said he, "will you grant a poortraveler the shelter of your roof to-night'?" 5. "Right willingly will I, " said she; "for the love of _one_, for whosesake all travelers are welcome here. " 6. "For whose sake is it that youmake all wanderers welcome?" asked the stranger. 7. "For the sake of our good king, Robert Bruce, who, though he is nowhunted like a wild beast, with horn and hound, I trust yet to see on thethrone of Scotland!" 8. "Nay, then, my good woman, " replied the man, "since you love him sowell, know that you see him now _I_ am Robert Bruce. " 9. "_You'!_--are _you_ our king'?" she inquired, sinking on her knees, and reverently kissing his hand; "where, then, are your followers, andwhy are you thus alone?" 10. "I have no followers now, " replied Bruce, "and am, therefore, compelled to travel alone. " 11. "Nay, my liege, " exclaimed the loyal dame, "that you shall do nolonger; for here are my two sons, whom I give to you, and may they longlive to serve and defend your majesty!" 12. The Scottish youths bent their knees, and took the oath of fealty;and then, sitting beside the fire, the king entered into conversationwith his new retainers, while their mother was busied in preparing theevening meal. 13. Suddenly, they were startled by the tramp of horses' hoofs, and thevoices of men. "'_Tis the English!_" shouted the matron, "_fight to thelast, my sons, and defend your king!_" But, at this moment, the kingrecognized the voices of Lord James, of Douglas, and of Edward Bruce, and bade them have no fear. 14. Bruce was overjoyed at meeting with his brother, and his faithfulfriend Douglas, who had with them a band of one hundred and fifty men. He bade farewell to the brave and loyal woman, and, taking with him hertwo sons, left the place. 15. The two young Scots served Bruce well and faithfully, and were highofficers in his service when, at the head of a conquering army, he drovethe English invaders from the soil of Scotland, and rendered her again a_free and independent kingdom_. QUESTIONS. --1. Describe the room in which the Scotch woman resided. 2, What is meant by a "_stag of ten?_" 3. Who did the stranger prove to be?4. Who joined Bruce? 5. What did Bruce and his men then do? * * * * * LESSON XXXIV. PROS PER' ITY, success; good fortune. DIG' NI FIES, elevates; ennobles. SUS TAIN' ED, endured; suffered. AD VERS' I TY, calamity; misfortune. UN ERR' ING, sure; certain. FOR LORN', forsaken; wretched. CAN' O PY, covering overhead. EI DER DOWN, fine, soft feathers from the eider-duck. DE VOID', destitute. IM MERS' ED, inwrapped; sunk. GOS' SA MER Y, like gossamer; filmy. RE COIL' ED, started back. FOIL' ED, frustrated; defeated. RO MANCE', fiction. TRIV' I AL, small; trifling. CON FIDE', trust; believe. AD' VERSE, contrary; opposite. PALM, token of victory. ROBERT BRUCE AND THE SPIDER. BERNARD BARTON. 1. Not in _prosperity's broad light_, Can reason justly scan The _sterling worth which_, viewed aright, _Most dignifies the man_. Favored at once by wind and tide, The skillful pilot well may guide The bark in safety on; Yet, when his harbor he has gained, He who no conflict hath sustained, No meed has fairly won. 2. But in _adversity's dark hour_ _Of peril and of fear, _ When clouds above the vessel lower, With scarce one star to cheer; When winds are loud, and waves are high, And ocean, to a timid eye, Appears the seaman's grave; Amid the conflict, calm, unmoved, By truth's unerring test is proved _The skillful and the brave. _ 3. For Scotland and her freedom's right The Bruce his part had played; _In five successive fields of fight_ _Been conquered and dismayed. _ _Once more, against the English host_ _His band he led, and once more lost_ _The meed for which he fought;_ And now, from battle faint and worn, The homeless fugitive forlorn A hut's lone shelter sought. 4. And cheerless was that resting-place For him who claimed a throne; His canopy, devoid of grace, -- The rude, rough beams alone; The heather couch his only bed, Yet well I know had slumber fled From couch of eider down; Through darksome night to dawn of day, Immersed in wakeful thought he lay, Of Scotland and her crown. 5. The sun rose brightly, and its gleam Fell on that hapless bed, And tinged with light each shapeless beam Which roofed the lowly shed; When, looking up with wistful eye, The Bruce beheld a spider try His filmy thread to fling From beam to beam of that rude cot; And well the insect's toilsome lot Taught Scotland's future king. 6. Six times his gossamery thread The wary spider threw: In vain the filmy line was sped; For, powerless or untrue, Each aim appeared and back recoiled The patient insect, _six times foiled_, And yet unconquered still; And soon the Bruce, with eager eye, Saw him prepare once more to try His courage, strength, and skill. 7. _One effort more, the seventh and last_, -- The hero hailed the sign! And on the wished-for beam hung fast The slender, silken line. Slight as it was, his spirit caught The more than omen; for his thought The lesson well could trace, Which even "he who runs may read, " That _perseverance gains its meed_, And _patience wins the race_. 8. Is it a tale of mere romance'? Its moral is the same, -- A light and trivial circumstance'? Some thought, it still may claim. Art thou a father'? teach thy son Never to deem that _all is done_, While _aught remains untried_; To hope, though every hope seems crossed, And when his bark is tempest-tossed Still calmly to confide. 9. Hast thou been long and often foiled (<) By adverse wind and seas'? And vainly struggled, vainly toiled, For what some win with ease'? Yet bear up heart, and hope, and will, Nobly resolved to struggle still, With patience persevere; Knowing, when darkest seems the night, The dawn of morning's glorious light Is swiftly drawing near. 10. Art thou a Christian? shall the frown Of fortune cause dismay'? The Bruce but won an _earthly crown_, Which long hath passed away; For thee a _heavenly crown_ awaits; For thee are oped the pearly gates, -- Prepared the deathless palm: But bear in mind that _only those_ _Who persevere unto the close, _ _Can join in Victory's psalm_. QUESTIONS. --1. Will smooth seas and favoring gales make a skillfulmariner? 2. What will make skillful and brave men? 3. In what respect isadversity better than prosperity? 4. What story illustrates this fact?5. How many times did the spider try, before it succeeded? 6. In howmany battles had Bruce been defeated? 7. What important lesson is taughtyouth? 8. What encouragement is given to the Christian? * * * * * LESSON XXXV. PA' TRI OT' IC, having love of country. OB SER VA' TION, remark, expression. POP' U LAR, well received; prevailing. E QUAL' I TY, sameness of social position. AUD' I BLE, that may be heard. DE TER' MIN ED, fully resolved. HES' I TATE, scruple. BRA' VO, well done. BROILS, wrangles; quarrels. RENOWN' ED, famed; celebrated. O' DI OUS, hateful; offensive. COUNT' ESS, wife of a count or earl. FAG-END', the meaner part. NO BIL' I TY, noble rank. BUR LESQUE', (_burlesk', _) ridicule. HE RED' I TA RY, coming by descent. CON' STI TUTES, forms; composes. APH' O RISMS, precepts; maxims. TEM' PO RA RY, continuing for a time. BECK, sign with the hand; nod. [Headnote 1: LA VA' TER, (John Gaspar, ) a celebrated physiognomist, thatis, one skilled in the art of determining character by the externalfeatures, born in Zurich, in 1741. ] That part of this dialogue uttered by Caroline, should be read in a veryearnest and spirited style, --that uttered by Horace in a more grave, deliberate, and candid manner. WEALTH AND FASHION. _Caroline_. What a pity it is that we are born under a Republicangovernment! _Horace_. Upon my word, Caroline, that is a patriotic observation for anAmerican. _Caroline_. Oh, I know that it is not a _popular_ one! We must all joinin the cry of liberty and equality, and bless our stars that we haveneither kings nor emperors to rule over us, and that our very firstaudible squeak was republicanism. If we don't join in the shout, andhang our caps on liberty-poles, we are considered monsters. For my part, I am _tired_ of it, and am determined to _say what I think_. I _hate_republicanism; I hate liberty and equality; and I don't hesitate to_declare_ that I am for monarchy. You may laugh, but I would say it atthe stake. _Horace_. Bravo, Caroline! You have almost run yourself out of breath. You deserve to be prime minister to the king. _Caroline_. You mistake; I have no wish to mingle in political broils, not even if I could be as renowned as Pitt or Fox; but I must say, Ithink our equality is _odious_. What do you think! To-day, the newchamber-maid put her head into the door, and said, "Caroline, your marmwants you!" _Horace_. _Excellent!_ I suppose if ours were a _monarchical_government, she would have bent to the ground, or saluted your littlefoot, before she spoke. _Caroline_. No, Horace; you _know_ there are no such forms in thiscountry. _Horace_. May I ask your highness what you _would_ like to be? _Caroline_. I should like to be a countess. _Horace_. Oh, you are moderate in your ambition! A countess, now-a-days, is the fag-end of nobility. _Caroline_. Oh! but it sounds so delightfully, --_"The young CountessCaroline!"_ _Horace_. If _sound_ is all, you shall have that pleasure; we will callyou _the young countess_. _Caroline_. That would be mere burlesque, Horace, and would make oneridiculous. _Horace_. Nothing can be more inconsistent in us, than aiming at titles. _Caroline_. For _us_, I grant you; but, if they were _hereditary, _ if wehad been born to them, if they came to us through belted knights andhigh-born dames, _then_ we might be proud to wear them. I never shallcease to regret that I was not born under a monarchy. _Horace_. You seem to forget that all are not lords and ladies in_royal_ dominions. Suppose you should have drawn your first breath amongthe _lower classes_, --suppose it should have been your lot to crouch andbend, or be trodden under foot by some titled personage, whom in yourheart you despised; what then? _Caroline_. You may easily suppose that I did not mean to take _those_chances. No; I meant to be born among the _higher_ ranks. _Horace_. Your own reason must tell you, that _all_ can not be bornamong the _higher ranks_; for then the _lower ones_ would be wanting, which constitute the comparison. Now, Caroline, is it not better to beborn under a government where there are no such ranks, and where _theonly nobility is talent and virtue'?_ _Caroline_. Talent and virtue! I think _wealth_ constitutes ournobility, and the right of abusing each other, our liberty. _Horace_. You are as fond of aphorisms as Lavater[Headnote 1] was. _Caroline_. Let me ask you if our rich men, who ride in their owncarriages, who have fine houses, and who count by millions, are not our_great_ men? _Horace_. They have all the greatness that _money_ can buy; but this isvery limited. _Caroline_. Well, in _my_ opinion, _money is power_. _Horace_. You mistake. Money may be _temporary power_, but _talent_ is_power itself_; and, _when united with virtue, is godlike power_, beforewhich the mere man of millions quails. _Caroline_. Well, Horace, I really wish you the possession of _talent_, and _principle_, and _wealth_ into the bargain. The latter, you think, will follow the two former, simply at your beck;--you smile; but _I_feel as determined in _my_ way of thinking, as _you_ do in _yours_. QUESTIONS. --1. What is the subject of this dialogue? 2. What didCaroline regret? 3. What reply did Horace make? 4. What did Carolinewish to be? 5. What did Horace say constituted true nobility? * * * * * LESSON XXXVI. RE SERV'ING, keeping; retaining. AC CU' MU LA TED, collected. IN DIG NA' TION, angry feeling. RE SOURC' ES, means; funds. DIS SER TA' TION, discourse; essay. EX PAN' SION, enlargement. DE POS' IT ED, put; laid. EX ER' TION (_egs er shun_, ) effort. JU DI' CIOUS, wise, prudent. VO CA' TION, business; employment. EU PHON' IC, agreeable; well-sounding. CO TEM' PO RA RIES, those living at the same time. DI GRES' SION, departure from the subject. PRE DIC' TIONS, prophecies. IM PELL' ED, driven forward. AR IS TOC' RA CY, (ARISTO, _the best_; CRACY, _government_, ) government by the best, or nobles. See SANDERS' ANALYSIS, page 200, Ex. 283. [Headnote 1: SOC' RA TES, the most celebrated philosopher of antiquity, was born at Athens, 470 years before Christ. The purity of his doctrines, and his independence of character, rendered him popular with the mostenlightened Athenians, though they created him many enemies. He was_falsely accused_, arraigned, and condemned to drink _hemlock_, thejuice of a poisonous plant. When the hour to take the poison had come, the executioner handed him the cup, with tears in his eyes. Socratesreceived it with composure, drank it with unaltered countenance, and, in a few moments, expired. ] [Headnote 2: DE MOS' THE NES, a great Grecian orator, who, rather thanfall into the hands of his enemies, destroyed himself by taking poison. It is said that, when a youth, he frequently declaimed on the sea-shore, while the waves were roaring around him, in order to secure a largecompass of voice, and to accustom himself to the tumult of a popularassembly. ] [Headnote 3: KING DA' VID, the sweet singer and poet of Israel. For theinteresting account of his triumph over Goliath, the great champion ofthe Philistines, see I Sam. , chap. 17. ] MY FIRST JACK-KNIFE. 1. I remember it well! Its horn handle, so smooth and clear, glowingwith the unmeaning, but magic word, "_Bunkum;_" and the bladesignificantly inviting you to the test, by the two monosyllables, "_Tryme_. " 2. I know not how it is, but I never could take half the comfort in anything which I have since possessed, that I took in this _jack-knife_. Iearned it myself; and, therefore, I had a feeling of independence; itwas bought with my _own money_, --not teazed out of my uncle, or stillkinder father, --_money_ that I had silently earned on the afternoons ofthose days set apart for boys to amuse themselves. 3. Yes! with a spirit of persevering industry and self-denial, at whichI now wonder, I went, every afternoon, during "berry-time, " and pickedthe ripened fruit with eagerness; for my heart was in the task. I soldmy berries, and, carefully reserving the proceeds, shortly accumulatedenough to purchase the treasure, for which I so eagerly longed. 4. I went to one of the village-stores, and requested the clerk to showme his jack-knives; but he, seeing that I was only a boy, and thinkingthat I merely meant to amuse myself in looking at the nicest, andwishing it was mine, told me not to plague him, as he was otherwiseengaged. 5. I turned with indignation; but I felt the inward comfort of a man whohas _confidence_ in his own resources, and knows he has the power in hisown hands. I quietly jingled the money in my pockets, and went to theopposite store. I asked for jack-knives, and was shown a lot fresh fromthe city, which were temptingly laid down before me, and left for me toselect one, while the trader went to another part of his store to waitupon an older customer. I looked over them, opened them, breathed uponthe blades, and shut them again. 6. One was too hard to open, another had no spring; finally, afterexamining them with all the judgment which, in my opinion, the extent ofthe investment required, I selected one with a hole through the handle;and, after a dissertation with the owner upon jack-knives in general, and _this one_ in particular, --upon hawk-bill, and dagger-blades, --andhandles, iron, bone, and buck-horn, --I succeeded in closing a bargain. 7. I took the instrument I had purchased, and felt a sudden expansion ofmy boyish frame! It was my world! I deposited it in my pocket amongother valuables, --twine, marbles, slate-pencils, &c. I went home to myfather; I told him how long I had toiled for it, and how eagerly I hadspent time, which others had allotted to play, to possess myself of mytreasure. 8. My father gently chided me for not telling him of my wants; but Iobserved his glistening eye turn affectionately to my mother and then tome, and I thought that his manly form seemed to straighten up and tolook prouder than I had ever before seen him. At any rate, he came tome, and, patting my curly head, told me there was no object in life, which was reasonably to be desired, that _honesty, self-denial, well-directed industry_, and _perseverance_ would not place within myreach; and if, through life, I carried the spirit of independentexertion into practice, which I had displayed in the purchase of thejack-knife, I should become a "_great man_. " 9. From that moment, I was a new being. I had discovered that I could_rely upon myself_. I took my jack-knife, and many a time, while cuttingthe walnut-saplings for my bow, or the straight pine for my arrow, orcarving my mimic ship, did I muse upon these words of my father, --sodeeply are the kind expressions of a judicious parent engraven on theheart and memory of boyhood. 10. My knife was my constant companion. It was my carpenter, myship-builder, and my toy-manufacturer. It was out upon all occasions, never amiss, and always "handy;" and, as I valued it, I never let itpart from me. I own my selfishness; I would divide my apples among myplaymates, my whole store of marbles was at their service, --they mightknock my bats, kick my foot-ball as they chose; but I had no partnershipof enjoyments in my jack-knife. Its possession was connected in my mindwith something so _exclusive_, that I could not permit another to takeit for a moment. Oh! there is a wild and delicious luxury in one'sboyish anticipations and youthful day-dreams! 11. If, however, the _use_ of my jack-knife afforded me pleasure, theidea of its possession was no less a source of enjoyment. I was, for thetime being, a little prince among my fellows, --a perfect monarch. Let noone exclaim against aristocracy; were we all perfectly _equal to-day_, there would be an _aristocracy to-morrow_. Talent, judgment, skill, tact, industry, perseverance, will place some on the top, while thecontrary attributes will place others at the bottom of fortune'sever-revolving wheel! 12. The plowman is an aristocrat, if he excels in his vocation: he is anaristocrat, if he turns a better or a straighter furrow than hisneighbor. The poorest poet is an aristocrat, if he writes morefeelingly, in a purer language, or with more euphonic jingle than hiscotemporaries. The fisherman is an aristocrat, if he wields his harpoonwith more skill, and hurls it with a deadlier energy than his messmates, or has even learned to fix his bait more alluringly on his barbed hook. 13. All _have_ had, and _still_ have their foibles; all have somepossession, upon which they pride themselves, and I was proud of myjack-knife! Spirit of Socrates, [Headnote 1] forgive me! was there nopride in dying like a philosopher'? Spirit of Demosthenes, [Headnote 2]forgive me! was there no pride in your addresses to the boundless androaring ocean'? Spirit of David! [Headnote 3] was there no pride in thedeadly hurling of the smooth pebble, which sank deep into the foreheadof your enemy'? 14. But I must take my jack-knife and _cut short_ this digression. Letno man say _this_ or _that_ occurrence "will make _no difference fiftyyears hence_, "--a common, but dangerous phrase. I am _now_ a man ofthree-score years. I can point my finger _here_ to my ships, _there_ tomy warehouse. My name is well known in two hemispheres. I have drankdeeply of intellectual pleasures, have served my country in manyimportant stations, have had my gains and my losses. 15. I have seen many, who started with fairer prospects, but with nocompass, wrecked before me; but I have been impelled in my operations, no matter how extensive, by the _same spirit_ which conceived andexecuted the purchase of the jack-knife. And I have found my reward init; and, perhaps, in after years, there will be those who will say thatthe predictions of my father were fulfilled in their case; and that, from _small beginnings_, by "_honesty, self-denial, well-directedindustry_, and _perseverance_, " they also, BECAME TRULY "GREAT MEN. " QUESTIONS. --1. How did this boy obtain his first jack-knife? 2. What didhis father say to him, when he told how he had earned it? 3. What usedid he make of his knife? 4. What is said about _aristocracy_? 5. Whatis said of this boy when he came to be three-score years old? * * * * * LESSON XXXVII. COIN' ED, stamped. BAR' TER, trade; exchange. COM MOD' I TIES, goods; wares. BULL'ION, uncoined silver or gold. BUC' CA NEERS, pirates; freebooters. IM MENSE', very great; enormous. DAIN' TIES, delicacies. SMALL-CLOTHES, breeches. AT TIR' ED, dressed; arrayed. PE' ONY, plant and beautiful flower. PER' SON A BLE, handsome; graceful. ES PE' CIAL LY, mainly; chiefly. RE CEP' TA CLE, that which receives or holds. PON' DER OUS, heavy; bulky. RE SUM' ING, taking again. THE PINE-TREE SHILLINGS. 1. Captain John Hull was the mint-master of Massachusetts, and coinedall the money that was made there. This was a new line of business; for, in the earlier days of the colony, the current coinage consisted of goldand silver money of England, Portugal, and Spain. 2. These coins being scarce, the people were often forced to bartertheir commodities, instead of selling them. For instance, if a manwanted to buy a coat, he, perhaps, exchanged a bear-skin for it. If hewished for a barrel of molasses, he might purchase it with a pile ofpine-boards. Musket-bullets were used instead of farthings. 3. The Indians had a sort of money, called _wampum_, which was made ofclam-shells; and this strange sort of specie was, likewise, taken inpayment of debts, by the English settlers. Bank-bills had never beenheard of. There was not money enough of any kind, in many parts of thecountry, to pay the salaries of the ministers; so that they sometimeshad to take quintals of fish, bushels of corn, or cords of wood, insteadof silver or gold. 4. As the people grew more numerous, and their trade one with anotherincreased, the want of current money was still more sensibly felt. Tosupply the demand, the general court passed a law for establishing acoinage of shillings, sixpences, and threepences. Captain John Hull wasappointed to manufacture this money, and was to have _one shilling_, outof every twenty, to pay him for the trouble of making them. 5. Hereupon, all the old silver in the colony was handed over to CaptainJohn Hull. The battered silver cans, and tankards, and silver-buckles, and broken spoons, and silver-buttons of worn-out coats, and silverhilts of swords that had figured at courts, --all such curious oldarticles were, doubtless, thrown into the melting-pot together. But byfar the greater part of the silver consisted of bullion from the minesof South America, which the English buccaneers, (who were little betterthan pirates, ) had taken from the Spaniards, and brought toMassachusetts. 6. All this old and new silver being melted down and coined, the resultwas an immense amount of splendid shillings, sixpences, and threepences. Each had the date, 1652, on the one side, and the figure of a_pine-tree_ on the other. Hence, they were called _pine-tree shillings_. And, for every _twenty shillings_ that he coined, you will remember, Captain John Hull was entitled to put _one shilling_ into his ownpocket. 7. The magistrates soon began to suspect that the mint-master would havethe best of the bargain. They offered him a large sum of money, if hewould but give up that _twentieth shilling_, which he was continuallydropping into his own pocket. But Captain Hull declared himselfperfectly satisfied with the shilling. And well he might be; for, sodiligently did he labor, that, in a few years, his pockets, hismoney-bags, and his strong box, were overflowing with pine-treeshillings. This was probably the case when he came into possession ofGrandfather's chair; and, as he had worked so hard at the mint, it wascertainly proper that he should have a comfortable chair to rest himselfin. 8. When the mint-master had grown very rich, a young man, Samuel Sewellby name, fell in love with his only daughter. His daughter, whom we willcall Betsey, was a fine, hearty damsel, by no means so slender as someyoung ladies of our own days. As Samuel was a young man of goodcharacter, industrious in his business, and a member of the church, themint-master very readily gave his consent. 9. "Yes; you may take her, " said he, in his rough way; "and you'll findher a heavy burden enough!" On the wedding-day, we may suppose thathonest John Hull dressed himself in a plum-colored coat, all the buttonsof which were made of pine-tree shillings. The buttons of his waistcoatwere sixpences; and the knees of his small-clothes were buttoned withsilver threepences. 10. Thus attired, he sat with great dignity in Grandfather's chair; and, being a portly old gentleman, he completely filled it from elbow toelbow. On the opposite side of the room, between her bridemaids, satMiss Betsey, blushing like a full-blown peony. 11. There, too, was the bridegroom, dressed in a fine purple coat, andgold-lace waistcoat, with as much other finery as the Puritan laws andcustoms would allow him to put on. His hair was cropped close to hishead, because Governor Endicott had forbidden any man to wear it belowthe ears. But he was a very personable young man; and so thought thebridemaids and Miss Betsey herself. 12. The mint-master, also, was pleased with his new son-in-law;especially as he had courted Miss Betsey out of pure love, and had saidnothing at all about her portion. So, when the marriage ceremony wasover, Captain Hull whispered a word to two of his men-servants, whoimmediately went out, and soon returned, lugging in a large pair ofscales. They were such a pair as wholesale merchants use for weighingbulky commodities; and quite a bulky commodity was now to be weighed inthem. 13. "Daughter Betsey, " said the mint-master, "get into one side of thesescales. " Miss Betsey, or Mrs. Sewell, as we must now call her, did asshe was bid, like a dutiful child, without any question of the why andwherefore. But what her father could mean, unless to make her husbandpay for her by the pound, (in which case she would have been a dearbargain, ) she had not the least idea. 14. "And now, " said honest John Hull to the servants, "bring that boxhither. " The box, to which the mint-master pointed, was a huge, square, iron-bound, oaken chest. The servants tugged with might and main; butcould not lift this enormous receptacle, and were finally obliged todrag it across the floor. 15. Captain Hull then took a key from his girdle, unlocked the chest, and lifted its ponderous lid. Behold! _it was full to the brim of brightpine-tree shillings_, fresh from the mint; and Samuel Sewell began tothink that his father-in-law had got possession of all the money in theMassachusetts' treasury. But it was only the mint-master's honest shareof the coinage. 16. Then the servants, at Captain Hull's command, heaped double handfulsof shillings into one side of the scales, while Betsey remained in theother. Jingle, jingle, went the shillings, as handful after handful wasthrown in, till, plump and ponderous as she was, they fairly weighed theyoung lady from the floor. 17. "There, son Samuel, " said the honest mint-master, resuming his seatin Grandfather's chair, "take these shillings for my daughter's portion. Use her kindly, and thank Heaven for her. _It is not every wife that'sworth her weight in silver!_" QUESTIONS. --1. What was Captain John Hull's business? 2. What portion ofthe money coined, was he to receive? 3. How did he get silver to coin?4. Describe the shillings he coined. 5. How did he become wealthy? 6. Describe his dress on his daughter's wedding-day. 7. What did he say tohis son-in-law, after weighing her with shillings? * * * * * LESSON XXXVIII. LODG' ES, dens; caves. MAR' VEL OUS, wonderful. TIP' PED, pointed. HERD, gather in herds. FA' MOUS, noted; remarkable. ROE' BUCK, small species of deer. STRAIGHT' WAY, immediately. E RECT', upright. FROL' IC, fun; play. FORD, place where water can be waded. FLECK' ED, spotted; striped. FLUT' TER ED, quivered. PAL' PI TA TED, beat; throbbed. WA' RY, watchful; cautious. FA' TAL, deadly; mortal. EX ULT' ED, (_x_ like _gz_, ) greatly rejoiced. HIAWATHA'S HUNTING. LONGFELLOW. This lesson is taken from "The Song of Hiawatha, " a poem, founded upontraditions current among some tribes of North American Indians, respecting an imaginary being of more than mortal powers and gifts, named Hiawatha. The scene of the poem is laid among the Ojibways, orChippewas, a tribe of Indians, occupants, from the period of ourearliest history, of the basin of Lake Superior. 1. Then the little Hiawatha Learned of every bird its language, Learned their names and all their secrets, How they built their nests in summer, Where they hid themselves in winter, Talked with them where'er he met them, Called them "Hiawatha's chickens. " 2. Of all beasts he learned the language, Learned their names and all their secrets, How the beavers built their lodges, Where the squirrels hid their acorns, How the reindeer ran so swiftly, Why the rabbit was so timid, Talked with them whene'er he met them, Called them "Hiawatha's brothers. " 3. Then Ia'goo, the great boaster, He, the marvelous story-teller, He, the traveler and the talker, Made a bow for Hiawatha; From a branch of ash he made it, From an oak-bough made the arrows, Tipped with flint, and winged with feathers, And the cord he made of deer-skin. 4. Then he said to Hiawatha, "Go, my son, into the forest, Where the red deer herd together, Kill for us a famous roebuck, Kill for us a deer with antlers. " Forth into the forest straightway All alone walked Hiawatha Proudly with his bow and arrows. 5. And the birds sang round him, o'er him "Do not shoot us, Hiawatha. " Sang the robin, sang the bluebird, "Do not shoot us, Hiawatha. " Up the oak-tree, close beside him, Sprang the squirrel, lightly leaping In and out among the branches; Coughed and chattered from the oak-tree, Laughed, and said between his laughing, "Do not shoot me, Hiawatha. " 6. And the rabbit from his pathway Leaped aside, and, at a distance, Sat erect upon his haunches, Half in fear, and half in frolic, Saying to the little hunter, "Do not shoot me, Hiawatha. " 7. But he heeded not nor heard them, For his thoughts were with the red deer; On their tracks his eyes were fastened, Leading downward to the river, To the ford across the river, And as one in slumber walked he. 8. Hidden in the alder bushes, There he waited till the deer came, Till he saw too antlers lifted, Saw two eyes look from the thicket, Saw two nostrils point to windward, And the deer came down the pathway, Flecked with leafy light and shadow. And his heart within him fluttered, Trembled like the leaves above him, Like the birch leaf palpitated, As the deer came down the pathway. 9. Then, upon one knee uprising, Hiawatha aimed an arrow; Scarce a twig moved with his motion, Scarce a leaf was stirred or rustled, But the wary roebuck started, Stamped with all his hoofs together, Listened with one foot uplifted, Leaped as if to meet the arrow; Ah, the singing, fatal arrow, Like a wasp it buzzed and stung him. 10. Dead he lay there in the forest, By the ford across the river; Beat his timid heart no longer; But the heart of Hiawatha Throbbed, and shouted, and exulted, As he bore the red deer homeward. * * * * * LESSON XXXIX. TRAIL, track; footprints. IN' DICATED, pointed out; shown. MURK' Y, dark; gloomy. FLAM' BEAU, (_flam' bo_, ) lighted torch. RE FLECT' ING, throwing back. LU' RID LY, gloomily; dismally. SUS PECT' ING, mistrusting. AS SAIL' ANTS, assaulters. ECH' O, (_ek' o_, ) sound reverberated. RE LAPS' ED, fell back; returned. EN VEL' OPED, inwrapped. SUF FO CATED, smothered. BRAND' ISHING, flourishing; waving. RIG' ID, stiff. BIV' OUAC, (_biv' wak_, ) pass the night without tents. PEER' ED, came in sight; appeared. DE CLIV' I TY, gradual descent. PRO LONG' ED, lengthened; continued. COM' RADE, companion; associate. A DESPERATE ENCOUNTER WITH A PANTHER. BOY'S BOOK OF ADVENTURES. 1. I had left the hunting party more than an hour, when I came upon thetrack of my old friend Konwell, who was, with his dogs, on the bloodytrail of a panther. The animal must have had one of his legs broken;this was indicated by the marks on the soft ground; and it was plainthat the tracks were made by three feet instead of four, and accompaniedby blood at every leap. 2. I determined to follow; and, after a tramp of nearly an hour, Iovertook my friend at the entrance of a cavern, where he stood waitingfor me. The wounded animal had taken refuge in this cave, leaving us todo whatever we thought best. The poor beast doubtless supposed thatwithin this murky recess he was safe from pursuit; but he was mistaken. Konwell informed me that he had hidden a bundle of pine splinters in agulley, about half a mile distant, and that if I would keep guard overthe mouth of the cave, he would go and bring it. 3. I agreed to this measure; and, with ready gun and drawn knife, prepared for any attack that might be made. I lay down at the entranceof the panther's cave. My friend soon returned, bringing the pine, as hehad promised. His next movement was to kindle a large fire at the mouthof the cave, at which we lighted our torches; and, having taken theflambeaus in our left hand, while we carried our guns in the right, wecautiously entered the cave. I crept on before; but the space withinsoon became so high and roomy, that we could stand upright, and keepclose to each other. 4. Bending toward the left, the cavity extended a considerable distancewithin the hill. After we had advanced about two hundred steps, we sawthe glaring eyes of the wounded beast, which gleamed forth like twofiery balls, reflecting most luridly the light of our torches. Konwellnow took my flambeau and stepped behind me. I leveled my gun in thedirection of those flaming eyes, and fired. After the report, we heard abustle; but could not exactly make out what it meant. 5. I reloaded my gun, resumed my torch, and Konwell now took his placein front. But, as those flaming eyes were no longer to be seen, we feltobliged to go farther. Our guns ready loaded, we believed ourselves tobe prepared for anything. We proceeded carefully, as men are likely todo when suspecting danger, when, instantly, the panther started up froma hollow, in which he was lying, quite close to our feet. 6. It was a fearful sight to look upon him as he stood with ears laidback, his white teeth set together, as if in intense anger, and thosewide open eyes glowing and sparkling as they rested upon us, hisassailants. I can never forget his appearance. In a moment our guns weredischarged, and the cave returned the thundering echo. We had both firedso precisely at the same moment, that neither of us could believe theother had discharged his gun. 7. We were certain that our enemy had been struck, but we knew notwhether killed or only disabled. Quick as thought, we dropped our gunsand drew our knives from the sheath. And haste was necessary; for theecho had not relapsed into silence, before we felt the weight of thepanther against us; and we began cutting at him with our knives, and, atthe same moment, in consequence of our hurried movements, our torchesdied out, and we were left in utter darkness. 8. Deafened by the noise and utterly bewildered, I turned to fly fromthe now raging enemy, and only became perfectly aware of what I wasdoing, when I found myself standing beside Konwell outside the cave inthe open air. I only know now, that, enveloped in thick darkness, andalmost suffocated with the smoke of gunpowder, I groped about, notknowing what I wished or intended; and that Konwell, at last, drew meforcibly to the mouth of the cave. 9. There we stood, each one brandishing his hunting-knife in his righthand, and holding the extinguished torch in the left; as we looked oneach other, we scarcely knew whether to laugh or to be frightened at thestrange figures we made. We were black with powder-smoke, covered withsweat and blood, and our clothing torn to rags. 10. Konwell complained of a pain in his breast. I opened the bosom ofhis shirt, and found two deep gashes made by the panther's claws, extending from the left shoulder to the pit of the stomach. I alsoreceived a few scratches, but our stout hunting-shirts were torn toshreds. 11. Until this moment, neither of us had felt that he was wounded; andeven now, before we began to think of dressing those wounds, we made alarge fire at the mouth of the cavern, in order to prevent the pantherfrom coming forth. This done, we sat down beside the genial blaze towash and bind up our scratches, and consult on what plan it was now bestto proceed. 12. That the panther was still in the cave we were certain; but, whetherliving or dead, we did not know; at all events, he was wounded; for ourhunting-knives were covered with blood quite up to the hilt. But we hadno choice left; we must return; for our guns and Konwell's powder-flask, which the animal dragged off with him, still lay within the cavern. Wetherefore plucked up new courage; and, having relighted our torches, webrandished our knives, and prepared, though not without some heartthrobbings, once more to enter the panther's den. 13. With light and cautious steps, lest we might be as unpleasantlysurprised as we had been when we made our hasty retreat, we advanced, holding our torches before us, to the spot where we had dropped ourguns, and without meeting with any hinderance from our enemy. Once morein possession of our trusty weapons, we reloaded them, and steppedforward with lighter hearts, yet still with great caution, when Konwellexclaimed, as he raised the flaming pine high above his head, andpointed with it in a certain direction, "_See! there he is!_" 14. This was the first word that had been spoken since we reentered thecavern. I looked in the indicated direction, and there, indeed, lay thepanther, stretched out at full length, but no longer dangerous. His eyeswere set, his limbs were rigid, --the last agony was over. We skinned andcut him up as he lay. All three bullets had struck him, and both knivespenetrated his body; and it must have been in the death-struggle that heleaped upon us. 15. When our work was ended, and we again came to the open air, the sunwas low in the horizon, and all haste was necessary that we should setout on our forest-path without further delay. Our wounds smarted not alittle, and, although we took time once more to wash them, they becameso stiff that our progress was both toilsome and tedious. We soon becameconvinced that we should not succeed in reaching our companions whiledaylight remained, and we determined to bivouac for the night, at thefoot of a rocky declivity, which promised a good shelter from thecutting wind. 16. To add to our discomfort, hunger began to make itself painfullyfelt; but this was soon overpowered by weariness, and, having gatheredup the dry pine branches, we kindled up a good fire, and, withouttroubling ourselves to prepare any thing for supper, we stretchedourselves on the grass before it, and found the warmth most grateful. 17. Worn out by the toils of the day, in a few minutes Konwell was fastasleep; but, although much inclined to follow his example, I wasprevented by the restlessness of my dog, which seemed to wish to warn meof the presence of danger. The faithful animal, cringing closely to me, laid his nose on my shoulder, raising his head from time to time, andwhined, as though he wished to communicate something, and then, for afew moments, would remain quiet. Then, suddenly, he would rise up as inthe attitude of listening, occasionally uttering a low growl. 18. Completely awakened by this strange behavior on the part of myfaithful dog, it seemed to me as if I heard a slight rustling among thedry bushes; and, rising up to a half-sitting posture, I looked towardthe rock behind me, and, to my great astonishment, became aware of apair of glaring eyes fastened upon me. As my head was between the fireand those fearful eyes, I could plainly distinguish the fiery balls as, reflected on by the red light, they peered above the naked rocks. 19. It was a panther, and evidently, from the position in which I sawit, was ready for a spring. Happily on this, as on every other night, mytrusty gun lay close beside me. I seized it, and, half-rising, so thatthe fire behind me afforded light for a steady aim, I leveled it exactlybetween the eyes. I fired, the bullet sped on its deadly errand, and thecrack of the noble rifle, thundering against the steep rocks, returnedwith loud and prolonged echo. 20. Konwell, to whom the report of a gun was ever the sweetest music, now started up, as if roused by an electric shock, and grasped his gun. The dog continued his barking, smelling all around, and looking in myface as if to inquire in what direction he should go. There was norustling movement on the rock, and the bullet must have taken effect. 21. Konwell shook his head as he inquired, "Why I had shot?" Withoutanswering, I began to reload my gun: this finished, I took up a blazingpine brand from the fire, and proceeded to climb the steep wall of rock, that raised itself like a barrier, about twenty steps distant from thespot upon which we rested. Here I found an old panther, the largest Ihad ever seen, lying dead--my well-directed bullet had finished him. Iflung the body over the rock, and my old comrade dragged him to thefire. 22. The ball had struck him directly in the right eye, passing throughthe brain. He was a fearful-looking animal, with terrible teeth andclaws, and the more to be dreaded, as, when we cut him up, his stomachwas found entirely empty. I believed that hunger had driven him so closeto the fire; but Konwell thought he had scented the fresh venison we hadwith us. Be that as it may, there was little doubt but that he wouldhave made a leap, as soon as the intervening fire had burned down; toits friendly presence, therefore, on this occasion, as a means ofProvidence, we owed our lives. QUESTIONS. --1. What had Konwell driven into a den? 2. What preparationdid he make, before entering into the cavern? 3. How far had the menproceeded before they saw the panther? 4. Describe the appearance of thepanther, as they came near him after the first shot? 5. What did thepanther do after the men both fired at him? 6. Did they finally succeedin killing the panther? 7. Describe the manner in which they killedanother panther. * * * * * LESSON XL. RAP' IDs, part of a river where the current is swift. TUR' BU LENCE, violent agitation. HELM, instrument for steering a vessel. EX CUR' SION, tour; ramble. A HOY', sea term used in hailing a vessel. QUAFF, drink largely. HOIST, raise; lift up. BLAS PHEM' ING, uttering impious language. SHRIEK' ING, screaming; crying out. THE POWER OF HABIT. JOHN B. GOUGH. 1. I remember once riding from Buffalo to the Niagara Palls. I said to agentleman, "What river is that, sir?" "That, " said he, "is Niagarariver. " 2. "Well, it is a beautiful stream, " said I; "bright, and fair, andglassy. How far off are the rapids?" "Only a mile or two, " was thereply. 3. "Is it _possible_ that only a mile from us, we shall find the waterin the turbulence which it must show near the Falls'?" "You will find it so, sir. " And so I found it; and the first sight ofNiagara I shall never forget. 4. Now, launch your bark on that Niagara river; it is bright, smooth, beautiful, and glassy. There is a ripple at the bow; the silver wake youleave behind, adds to your enjoyment. Down the stream you glide, oars, sails, and helm in proper trim, and you set out on your pleasureexcursion. 5. Suddenly, some one cries out from the bank, "_Young men, ahoy!_" "What is it?" "_The rapids are below you!_" 6. "Ha! ha! we have heard of the rapids; but we are not such fools as toget there. If we go too fast, then we shall up with the helm, and steerto the shore; we will set the mast in the socket, hoist the sail, andspeed to the land. Then on, boys; don't be alarmed, --there is nodanger. " 7. "Young men, ahoy there!" "What is it?" "_The rapids are below you!_" 8. "Ha! ha! we will laugh and quaff; all things delight us. What care wefor the future! No man ever saw it. Sufficient for the day is the evilthereof. We will enjoy life while we may, --will catch pleasure as itflies. This is enjoyment; time enough to steer out of danger when we aresailing swiftly with the current. " 9 (_ff. _) "YOUNG MEN, AHOY!" "What is it?" "BEWARE! BEWARE! THE RAPIDS ARE BELOW YOU!" 10. "Now you see the water foaming all around. See how fast you passthat point! Up with the helm! Now turn! Pull hard! (=) Quick! quick!quick! pull for your lives! pull till the blood starts from yournostrils, and the veins stand like whip-cords upon your brow! Set themast in the socket! hoist the sail! (_sl. _) Ah! ah! it is too late!Shrieking, howling, blaspheming; over they go. " 11. Thousands go over the rapids of intemperance every year, through_the power of habit_, crying all the while, "_When I find out that it_[Footnote: Temperate drinking. ] _is injuring me, I will give it up!_" QUESTIONS. --1. Where are the Niagara Falls? 2. How does the water appearjust above the Falls? 3. How does it appear farther up? 4. What replyare the young men represented as making, when first told the rapids werebelow them? 5. What, when told the second time? 6. What must they do, toescape destruction? 7. What is said of _the power of habit?_ * * * * * LESSON XLI. BE SOT' TED, stupefied. BUR LESQU' ED, mocked; derided. DE FI' ED, set at defiance. CHER' ISH ED, fostered; encouraged. STREW' ED, scattered; spread. LIV' ID, discolored; black and blue. MIR' ROR ED, reflected, as in a glass. RE VEAL' INGS, disclosures. PLIGHT' ED, pledged. FOR SWORN', perjured. STAMP' ED, impressed; fixed deeply. BLIGHT, blasting disease. A TONE', make reparation. PRO CLAIM' ED, openly declared. LOATHE, detest; abhor. BEV' ER AGE, drink. These verses should be read in a firm, half-indignant, yet imploringtone of voice, --except the last verse, which should be expressed in avery decided and impassioned manner. THE DRUNKARD'S DAUGHTER. [Footnote: These beautiful and touching verses were written by a younglady, in reply to a friend who had called her a monomaniac on thesubject of temperance. ] 1. Go, feel what I have felt, Go, bear what I have borne; Sink 'neath a blow a father dealt, And the cold, proud world's scorn; Thus struggle on from year to year, Thy sole relief, --the scalding tear. 2. Go, weep as I have wept, O'er a loved father's fall, See every cherished promise swept, -- Youth's sweetness turned to gall; Hope's faded flowers strewed all the way That led me up to woman's day. 3. Go, kneel as I have knelt; Implore, beseech, and pray, Strive the besotted heart to melt, The downward course to stay; Be cast with bitter curse aside, -- Thy prayers burlesqued, thy tears defied. 4. Go, stand where I have stood, And see the strong man bow; With gnashing teeth, lips bathed in blood, And cold and livid brow; Go, catch his wandering glance, and see There mirrored, his soul's misery. 5. Go, hear what I have heard, -- The sobs of sad despair, As memory's feeling fount hath stirred, And its revealings there Have told him what he might have been, Had he the drunkard's fate foreseen. 6. Go to my mother's side, And her crushed spirit cheer; Thine own deep anguish hide, Wipe from her cheek the tear; Mark her dimmed eye, --her furrowed brow, The gray that streaks her dark hair now; Her toil-worn frame, her trembling limb, And trace the ruin back to him Whose plighted faith, in early youth, Promised eternal love and truth; But who, forsworn, hath yielded up That promise to the deadly cup, And led her down from love and light, From all that made her pathway bright, And chained her there 'mid want and strife, That lowly thing, --_a drunkard's wife!_ And stamped on childhood's brow so mild, That withering blight, _a drunkard's child!_ 7. Go, hear, and see, and feel, and know, All that _my soul_ hath felt and known, Then look upon the wine-cup's glow; See if its brightness can atone; Think if its flavor you will try, If all proclaimed, "_'Tis drink and die!_" 8. Tell me I _hate_ the bowl; _Hate_ is a feeble word:(f. ) _I loathe_, ABHOR, --_my very soul_ _With strong disgust is stirred_, Whene'er I see, or hear, or tell, Of the DARK BEVERAGE OF HELL!! QUESTIONS. --1. By whom was this poetry written? 2. What circumstanceinduced her to write it? 3. What is the meaning of _monomaniac?_ Ans. One who is deranged in a single faculty of the mind, or with regard to aparticular subject, the other faculties being in regular exercise. 4. What reasons does she assign for her hatred of alcoholic drink? 5. Whatdoes she say of her mother? 6. With what tone of voice should the lastverse be read? See page 40, Rule 4. 7. Why are some words and sentencesprinted in Italics and Capitals? See page 22, Note III. * * * * * LESSON XLII. REC' ORDS, accounts; minutes. AD VENT' URES, doings; strange occurences. EN CUM' BER, load; clog. GRAT I FI CA' TION, indulgence. SCHEME, plan; progress. DE LIB ER A' TION, thought; consideration. LUX U RI OUS, pleasure-loving. EX PE DI' TION, tour; enterprise. MO ROSE', sour; ill-humored. RE VOLT' ING, disgusting; abhorrent. CON TEM' PLATE, consider; think upon. REL' IC, remains. IN VES' TI GATE, examine; look into. AC COM' PLISH ED, effected. PIC TUR ESQUE', (_pikt yur esk'_)grand; beautiful; picture-like. THE TWO YOUNG TRAVELERS. MERRY'S MUSEUM. 1. Horace and Herman, two young men who were friends, set out to travelin distant countries. Before they departed, each had formed a _plan_ ofproceeding. Horace determined to give himself up entirely to_pleasure, _--to go wherever his humor might dictate, --and to keep norecords of his adventures. In short, he resolved to _enjoy himself_ asmuch as possible, and, by no means, to encumber his mind with cares, duties, or troubles of any kind. 2. Herman was as fond of amusement as Horace; but the _mode_ he adoptedfor the gratification of his wishes, was quite different. In the firstplace, he made out a scheme of his travels: he procured maps, readbooks, and, after mature deliberation, adopted a certain route, as mostlikely to afford him pleasure as well as instruction. 3. In the formation of this plan, he spent several weeks; and, in thisoccupation, he found quite as much satisfaction as he afterwards did intraveling. Thus he obtained one great advantage over his idle andluxurious friend, who foolishly thought that the essence of enjoymentlay in freedom from thought, restraint, and toil. Even before they setout on their journey, Herman had actually found nearly as _much_pleasure as Horace received in the whole course of his expedition. 4. The two young men started together; and, as there were then no canalsor railroads, they both set out on foot. They had not proceeded farbefore they separated, --Horace taking one road and Herman another. 5. After the lapse of three years, they both returned; but what adifference between them! Horace was morose and dissatisfied; he had seena good deal of the world, but, as he had traveled with no other designthan to _gratify himself_ from hour to hour, he had soon exhausted thecup of pleasure, and found nothing at the bottom but the bitter dregs ofdiscontent. 6. He pursued pleasure, till, at last, he found the pursuit to bedistasteful and revolting. He grew tired even of amusement. He indulgedhis tastes, humors, and passions, until indulgence itself wasdisgusting. When he returned to his friends, he had laid up nothing inhis memory, by the relation of which he could amuse them; he had kept norecord of things he had seen; he brought back no store of pleasing anduseful recollections for himself, or others. Such was the result ofthree years' travel for pleasure. 7. It was quite otherwise with Herman. Adhering to his plans, he visiteda great many places, and, each day, he recorded in his journal what hehad seen. Whenever he met with an interesting object, he stopped tocontemplate it. If it was some aged relic, famous in history, he tookpains to investigate its story, and to write it down. If it was anobject of interest to the eye, he made a sketch of it in a book which hekept for that purpose. 8. In this way, Herman accomplished three good objects. In the firstplace, by taking pleasure in a moderate way, and mixing with it a littletoil and industry, he prevented that cloying surfeit which, at last, sickened and disgusted Horace. 9. In the second place, he greatly increased his enjoyments by the planhe adopted. Merely executing a plan is agreeable, and a source of greatpleasure. It is natural to derive happiness from following out adesign, --from seeing, hour by hour, day by day, how results come about, in conformity to our intentions. 10. But _this_ was not the _only_ advantage which Herman received fromhis system. The very toil he bestowed; the investigations he made; thepleasant thoughts and curious knowledge that were unfolded to his mind;the excitement he found in his exertions; the pleasure he took indrawing picturesque scenes; _all_ constituted a rich harvest ofpleasure, which was wholly denied to Horace. 11. Thus it was that labor and industry, exerted in carrying out a plan, afforded the young traveler a vast deal of gratification. The verythings that Horace looked upon as hateful, were, in fact, the sources ofhis friend's most permanent enjoyment. 12. In the third place, Herman had come back laden with rich stores ofknowledge, observation, and experience. Not only was his journal rich intales, legends, scenes, incidents, and historical records, but inputting these things down on paper, his memory had been improved, and hehad acquired the habit of observing and remembering. His mind was fullof pleasant things, and nothing could be more interesting than to hearhim tell of his travels, and of what he had seen. 13. While Horace was dull, silent, and sour, Herman was full ofconversation, life, and interest. The one was happy', the otherunhappy`; one was agreeable', the other disagreeable`; one had exhaustedthe cup of pleasure', the other seemed always to have the cup full andsparkling before him`. It was agreed on all hands that Horace was adisagreeable person, and everybody shunned him; while Herman wasconsidered by all a most agreeable companion, and everybody sought hissociety. 14. So much for the two travelers; _one_, a luxurious lover of pleasure, who thought only of the passing moment, and, in his folly, abused andthrew away his powers of enjoyment; the _other_, a lover of pleasurealso; but who pursued it moderately, with a wise regard to the future, and careful attention, every day, to the rules of duty; and who thussecured his true happiness. QUESTIONS. --1. What plan had Horace determined to pursue whiletraveling? 2. What was Herman's plan? 3. What is said of Horace, afterhis return? 4. How was it with Herman? 5. What is said of the two incontrast? 6. What effect has the emphasis on the place of the accent inthe words _unhappy_ and _disagreeable_, 13th paragraph? See page 22, note V. * * * * * LESSON XLIII. IM' PORT, meaning. GROV' EL ING, mean; creeping. A CHIEVE' MENT, performance. AS PI RA' TION, wish; ardent desire. SAN' GUINE, ardent; hopeful. RE' AL IZ ED, attained. IN SPI RA' TION, natural impulse. STATE' LI NESS, dignity: majesty. AD VENT' TUR OUS, daring; enterprising. EX UL TA' TION, (_x_ like _gz_, ) triumph. RI' VALS, competitors. DIG' NI TY, elevation; majesty. OR' A CLES, wise words or sentences. A' PEX, hight; summit. TEN' E MENT, dwelling; _here means_, the body. AD MON' ISH. Warn. RAPT' UR OUS, joyous; ecstatic. AN TIC I PA' TION, foretaste. PHI LOS' O PHY, (PHILO, _love_; SOPHY, _wisdom_, ) love of wisdom; reason of things. See SANDERS & McELLIGOTT'S ANALYSIS, page 236, Ex. 334 HIGHER! 1. HIGHER! It is a word of noble import. It lifts the soul of man fromlow and groveling pursuits, to the achievement of great and noble deeds, and ever keeps the object of his aspiration in view, till his mostsanguine expectations are fully realized. 2. HIGHER! lisps the infant that clasps its parent's knee, and makes itsfeeble effort to rise from the floor. It is the first inspiration ofchildhood to burst the narrow confines of the cradle, and to exercisethose feeble, tottering limbs, which are to walk forth in thestateliness of manhood. 3. HIGHER! echoes the proud school-boy in his swing; or, as he climbsthe tallest tree of the forest, that he may look down upon his lessadventurous comrades with a flush of exultation, --and abroad over thefields, the meadows, and his native village. 4. HIGHER! earnestly breathes the student of philosophy and nature. Hehas a host of rivals; but he must excel them all. The midnight oil burnsdim; but he finds light and knowledge in the lamps of heaven, and hissoul is never weary, when the last of them is hid by the splendors ofthe morning. 5. And HIGHER! his voice thunders forth, when the dignity of manhood hasmantled his form, and the multitude is listening with delight to hisoracles, burning with eloquence, and ringing like true steel in thecause of _Freedom_ and _Right_. And when time has changed his locks tosilver, --when the young and the old unite to do him honor, he stillbreathes forth from his generous heart fond wishes for their welfare. 6. HIGHER YET! He has reached the apex of earthly honor; yet his spiritburns as warm as in youth, though with a steadier and purer light. Andeven now, while his frail tenement begins to admonish him, that "thetime of his departure is at hand, " he looks forward, with rapturousanticipation, to the never-fading glory, attainable only in the presenceof the Most High. QUESTIONS. --1. What is said of the word _Higher_, first paragraph? 2. When does the school-boy say Higher? 3. What is said of the student? 4. What, when he arrives at manhood? 5. What, when he becomes old? 6. Whereis the passage within the quotation to be found? Ans. 2 Timothy, 4thchapter, 6th verse. * * * * * LESSON XLIV. IN TENS' ER, more fervent. STUB' BORN, unyielding; rugged. DEEM, think; imagine. OLD' EN, old; ancient. CLINGS, sticks; adheres closely. GAL' LANT, fine; noble. YAWN' ING, wide-opening. FU' RY, rage; madness. RAVE, rage; become furious. HEC' TIC, habitual; continuous. MEN' TAL, intellectual. WIELD, sway; exert. PRIV' I LEGE, right; opportunity. DOW' ER, gift; portion. LABOR. [Footnote: These lines were suggested by the simple incident of anindustrious wood-sawyer's reply to a man who told him that _his was ahard work_. "Yes, it is hard, to be sure; but _it is harder to donothing_, " was his answer. ] CAROLINE F. ORNE. 1. Ho, ye who at the anvil toil, And strike the sounding blow, Where, from the burning iron's breast, The sparks fly to and fro, Whileanswering to the hammer's ring, And fire's intenser glow!--Oh, while yefeel 'tis hard to toil And sweat the long day through, Remember, it isharder still _To have no work to do!_ 2. Ho, ye who till the stubborn soil, Whose hard hands guide the plow, Who bend beneath the summer sun, With burning cheek and brow!--Ye deemthe curse still clings to earth From olden time till now; But, while yefeel 'tis hard to toil And labor all day through, Remember, it is harderstill _To have no work to do_! 3. Ho, ye who plow the sea's blue field, Who ride the restless wave, Beneath whose gallant vessel's keel There lies a yawning grave, Aroundwhose bark the wint'ry winds Like fiends of fury rave!--Oh, while yefeel 'tis hard to toil And labor long hours through, Remember, it isharder still _To have no work to do!_ 4 Ho, ye upon whose fevered cheeksThe hectic glow is bright, Whose mental toil wears out the day, And halfthe weary night, Who labor for the souls of men, Champions of truth andright!--Although ye feel your toil is hard, Even with this gloriousview, Remember, it is harder still _To have no work to do!_ 5. Ho, allwho labor, --all who strive Ye wield a lofty power; Do with your might, do with your strength, Fill every golden hour! The glorious privilege_to do_ Is man's most noble dower. Oh, to your birthright and yourselvesTo your own souls be true! A weary, wretched life is theirs, _Who haveno work to do!_ QUESTIONS. --1. What incident suggested these thoughts to the writer? 2. Who toil at the anvil? 3. Who till the stubborn soil? 4. Who plow thesea's blue wave? 5. Who toil mentally? 6. Who labor for the souls ofmen? 7. What is man's most noble dower? 8. What is said to all thesedifferent laborers? 9. What is the meaning of the suffix _less_ in theword _restless?_ See SANDERS & McELLIGOTT'S ANALYSIS, page 140, Ex. 187. * * * * * LESSON XLV. E LIC' IT, draw forth. IN TEL' LI GENT, knowing; well-informed. RE FRAIN, hold in, or keep back. IG NO RA' MUS, ignorant person. RE TORT', reply; answer back. IN DEL' I BLY, in a way not to be effaced. MYS' TE RIES, profound secrets. AB SORB' ED, engrossed; occupied. MOR TI FI CA' TION, deep disappointment. OB STA CLE, hinderance; impediment. RE VOLT ED, shrank back. POR' ING, earnestly perusing. EM I NENCE, distinction. IN FOR MA' TION, knowledge. IL LIT' ER ATE, ignorant; unlearned. PRO FES' SION, business; employment. DIS' CI PLIN ED trained; instructed. CON TEMPT' U OUS, scornful; hateful. AN TAG' O NIST, opponent; adversary. THE AMBITIOUS APPRENTICE. 1. "How far is it from here to the sun?" asked Harmon Lee of hisfather's apprentice, James Wallace, intending by the question to elicitsome reply that would exhibit the boy's ignorance. 2. James Wallace, a boy of fourteen, turned his bright, intelligent eyesupon the son of his employer, and replied, "I don't know, Harmon. Howfar is it?" 3. There was something so honest and earnest in the tone of the boy, that, much as Harmon had felt disposed, at first, to sport with hisignorance, he could not refrain from giving him a true answer. Still, his contempt for the ignorant apprentice was not to be concealed, and hereplied, "_Ninety-five millions of miles_, you ignoramus!" James did notretort; but, repeating over in his mind the distance named, fixed itindelibly upon his memory. 4. On the same evening, after he had finished his day's work, heobtained a small text-book on astronomy, which belonged to Harmon Lee, and went up into his garret with a candle, and there, alone, attemptedto dive into the mysteries of that sublime science. As he read, theearnestness of his attention fixed nearly every fact upon his mind. Sointent was he, that he perceived not the flight of time, until thetown-clock struck ten. 5. He lay down upon his hard bed, and gave full scope to his thoughts. Hour after hour passed away, but he could not sleep, so absorbed was hein reviewing the new and wonderful things he had read. At last, weariednature gave way, and he fell into a slumber, filled with dreams ofplanets, moons, comets, and fixed stars. 6. The next morning the apprentice boy resumed his place at thework-bench with a new feeling; and, with _this_ feeling, was mingled oneof regret, that he could not go to school as well as Harmon. "But I can study at night, while he is asleep, " he said to himself. 7. Just then Harmon Lee came into the shop, and, approaching James, said, for the purpose of teasing him, "How big round is the earth, James?" "_Twenty-five thousand miles, _" was the quick reply. 8. Harmon looked surprised, for a moment, and then responded, with asneer, --for he was not a kind-hearted boy, but, on the contrary, veryselfish, and disposed to _injure_ rather than _do good_ to others, --"Oh!how wonderfully wise you are all at once! And no doubt you can tell howmany moons Jupiter has? Come, let us hear. " 9. "Jupiter has four moons, " James answered, with something ofexultation in his tone. "And, no doubt, you can tell how many rings it has?" "Jupiter has no rings. Saturn has rings, and Jupiter belts, " Jamesreplied, in a decisive tone. 10. For a moment or two Harmon was silent with surprise andmortification, to think that his father's _apprentice_, whom he esteemedso far below him, should be possessed of knowledge equal to his, and onthe points in reference to which he had chosen to question him, --andthat he should be able to convict him of an error, into which he hadpurposely fallen. 11. "I should like to know how long it is since you became sowonderfully wise, " said Harmon, with a sneer. "Not very long, " James replied calmly. "I have been reading one of yourbooks on astronomy. " 12. "I should like to know what business _you_ have to touch one of _my_books! You had better be minding your work. " "I did not neglect it, Harmon; I read at _night_, after I was done withmy work; and I did not hurt your book. " "I don't care if you _didn't_ hurt it. You are not going to have _my_books, I can tell you. So, you just let them alone. " 13. Poor James's heart sank within him at this unexpected obstacle, sosuddenly thrown in his way. He had no money of his own to buy, and knewof no one from whom he could borrow the book, that had become sonecessary to his happiness. "Do, Harmon, " he said, "lend me the book; Iwill take good care of it. " "No; I will not. And don't you dare to touch it, " was the angry reply. 14. James Wallace knew well enough the selfish disposition of Harmon, tobe convinced that there was now but little hope of his having the use ofhis books, except by stealth; and from that his naturally open andhonest principles revolted. All day he thought earnestly of the meanswhereby he should be able to obtain a book on astronomy, to quench theardent thirst he had created in his own mind. 15. He was learning the trade of a blind-maker. Having been already anapprentice for two years, and being industrious and intelligent, he hadacquired a readiness with tools, and much skill in some parts of histrade. While sitting alone, after he had finished his work for the day, it occurred to him that he might, by working in the evening, earn somemoney, and with it buy such books as he wanted. 16. By consent of his employer, he succeeded in getting a small job, from one of his neighbors; and, in a short time, by working evenings, heobtained sufficient money to purchase a book of his own, and had a halfdollar left, with which he bought a second-hand dictionary. Every nightfound him poring over his books; and, as soon as it was light enough inthe morning to see, he was up and reading. During the day, his mind waspondering over the things he had read, while his hands were diligentlyemployed in the labor assigned him. 17. It occurred, just at this time, that a number of benevolentindividuals established, in the town where James lived, one of thoseexcellent institutions, an Apprentices' Library. To this he applied, andobtained the books he needed. And thus, did this poor apprentice boy laythe foundation of future eminence and usefulness. At the age oftwenty-one, he was master of his trade; and, what was more, had laid upa vast amount of general and scientific information. 18. Let us now turn to mark the progress of the young student, HarmonLee, in one of the best seminaries in his native city, and afterwards atcollege. The idea that he was to be a lawyer, soon took possession ofhis mind, and this caused him to feel contempt for other boys, who weremerely designed for trades or store-keeping. 19. Like too many others, he had no love for learning. To be a _lawyer_he thought would be much more honorable than to be a mere mechanic; and, for this reason _alone_, he desired to be one. As for James Wallace, thepoor illiterate apprentice, he was most heartily despised, and nevertreated by Harmon with the least degree of kind consideration. 20. At the age of eighteen, Harmon was sent away to one of the easternuniversities, and there remained until he was twenty years of age, whenhe graduated, and came home with the honorary title of Bachelor of Arts. On the very day that James completed his term of apprenticeship, Harmonwas admitted to the bar. 21. From some cause, James determined he would make law _his_profession. To the acquirement of a knowledge of legal matters, therefore, he bent all the energies of a well disciplined mind. Twoyears passed away in an untiring devotion to the studies he had assignedhimself, and he then made application for admission to the bar. 22. Young Wallace passed his examinations with some applause, and thefirst case on which he was employed, chanced to be one of greatdifficulty, which required all his skill; the lawyer on the oppositeside was Harmon Lee, who entertained for his father's apprentice theutmost contempt. 23. The cause came on. There was a profound silence and a markedattention and interest, when the young stranger arose in the court-roomto open the case. A smile of contempt curled the lip of Harmon Lee, butWallace saw it not. The prominent points of the case were presented inplain, but concise language to the court; and a few remarks bearing uponits merits being made, the young lawyer took his seat, and gave room forthe defense. 24. Instantly Harmon Lee was on his feet, and began referring to thepoints presented by his "very learned brother, " in a very flippantmanner. There were those present who marked the light that kindled inthe eye of Wallace, and the flash that passed over his countenance atthe first contemptuous word and tone that were uttered by his antagonistat the bar. These soon gave place to attention, and an air of consciouspower. Nearly an hour had passed when Harmon resumed his seat with alook of exultation, which was followed by a pitying and contemptuoussmile, as Wallace again slowly rose. 25. Ten minutes, however, had not passed when that smile had changed toa look of surprise, mortification, and alarm. The young lawyer's firstspeech showed him to be a man of calm, deep, systematic thought, --wellskilled in points of law and in authorities, --and, more than all, alawyer of practical and comprehensive views. When he sat down, noimportant point in the case had been left untouched, and none that hadbeen touched, required further elucidation. 20. Lee followed briefly, in a vain attempt to torture his language andbreak down his positions. But he felt that he was contending withweapons whose edges were turned at every blow. When he took his seatagain, Wallace merely remarked that he was prepared, without furtherargument, to submit the case to the court. 27. The case was accordingly submitted, and a decision unhesitatinglymade in favor of the plaintiff, or Wallace's client. From that hourJames Wallace took his true position. _The despised apprentice becamethe able and profound lawyer, _ and was esteemed for real talent and realmoral worth, which, when combined, ever place their possessor in histrue position. Ten years from that day, Wallace was elevated to thebench, while Lee, a second-rate lawyer, never rose above that position. QUESTIONS. --1. What profession did James study, after he had learned histrade? 2. Who was his opponent in the first cause he tried? 3. Which wonthe case? 4. What did James finally become? * * * * * LESSON XLVI. TAUNT' ING LY, insultingly. DIG' NI FI ED, noble. DIS PU' TANTS, persons disputing. RES O LU' TION, decision. IM AG' IN ED, fancied. RE FLEC' TION, thought; consideration. SU PE RI OR' I TY, preeminence. SUB OR DI NATE, one inferior in position. BUF' FET ED, struggled against. THRALLS, bondage. DES POT' IC, tyrannical. OP PRES' SION, tyranny. PEN' U RY, poverty; destitution. PRED E CES' SORS, those who have gone before. DIS PEN SA' TIONS, dealings. CRI TE' RI ON, standard; measure. "SO WAS FRANKLIN. " ANON. 1. "Oh, you're a _'prentice!_" said a little boy, the other day, tauntingly, to his companion. The boy addressed turned proudly round, and, while the fire of injured pride, and the look of pity werestrangely blended in his countenance, coolly answered, "_So wasFranklin!_" 2. This dignified reply struck me forcibly, and I turned to mark thedisputants more closely. The former, I perceived by his dress, was of ahigher class in society than his humble, yet more dignified companion. The latter was a sprightly, active lad, scarce twelve years old, andcoarsely, but neatly attired. But, young as he was, there was visible inhis countenance much of genius, manly dignity, and determinateresolution; while that of the former showed only fostered pride, and theimagined superiority of riches. 3. That little fellow, thought we, gazing at our young hero, displaysalready much of the man, though his calling be a humble one; and, thoughpoverty extends to him her dreary, cheerless reality, still he looks onthe brightest side of the scene, and already rises in anticipation frompoverty and wretchedness! Once, "_so was Franklin_" and the world mayone day witness in our little "_'prentice_" as great a philosopher asthey have already seen in his noble pattern! And we passed on, buried inmeditation. 4. The motto of our infantile philosopher contains much, --too much to beforgotten, and should be engraven on the minds of all. What can bettercheer man in a humble calling, than the reflection that the greatest andthe best of earth--the greatest statesmen, the brightest philosophers, and the proudest warriors--have once graced the same profession? 5. "Look at Franklin! He who With the thunder talked, as friend to friend, And wove his garland of the lightning's wing, In sportive twist. " What was he? A _printer!_ once a subordinate in a printing office!Poverty stared him in the face; but her blank, hollow look, couldnothing daunt him. He struggled against a harder current than most arecalled to encounter; but he did not yield. He pressed manfully onward;bravely buffeted misfortune's billows, and gained the desired haven! 6. Look at Cincinnatus! At the call of his country he laid aside theplow and seized the sword. But having wielded it with success, when hiscountry was no longer endangered, and public affairs needed not hislonger stay, "he beat his sword Into a ploughshare, " and returned withhonest delight to his little farm. 7. Look at Washington! What was his course of life? He was first a_farmer;_ next a _Commander in Chief_ of the hosts of freedom, fightingfor the liberation of his country from the thralls of despoticoppression; next, called to the highest seat of government by hisransomed brethren, a _President of the largest Republic on earth_, andlastly, a _farmer_ again. 8. What was the famous Ben Jonson? He was first a _brick-layer, ormason!_ What was he in after years? 'Tis needless to answer. What was Burns? An Ayrshire _plowman!_ What was he in after life, in theestimation of his countrymen, and the world? Your library gives theanswer! 9. But shall we go on, and call up, in proud array, all the mighty hostof worthies that have lived and died, who were cradled in the lap ofpenury, and received their first lessons in the school of affliction'?Nay'; we have cited instances enough already, --yea, more than enough toprove the point in question--namely, _that there is no profession, however low in the opinion of the world, but has been honored withearth's greatest and worthiest. _ 10. Young man! Does the iron hand of misfortune press hard upon you, anddisappointments well-nigh sink your despairing soul'? Have courage!Mighty ones have been your predecessors, and have withstood the currentof opposition that threatened to overwhelm their fragile bark. 11. Do you despise your humble station, and repine that Providence hasnot placed you in some nobler sphere'? Murmur not against thedispensations of an All-wise Creator! Remember that wealth is nocriterion of moral rectitude or intellectual worth, --that richesdishonestly gained, are a lasting curse, --that virtue and uprightnesswork out a rich reward, --and that "An honest man's the noblest work of God. " 12. And when dark Disappointment comes, do not wither at her stare; butpress forward, and the prize is yours! It was thus with _Franklin_, --itcan be thus with _you_. He strove for the prize, and he won it! So may_you!_ 'Tis well worth contending for; and may success attend you, andthe "stars" grow brighter, as the "stripes" wear deeper! QUESTIONS. --1. What did the rich boy say of the poor boy? 2. What replydid the poor boy make? 3. What other examples are cited of eminent menwho were once poor? 4. What is said of Cincinnatus? 5. Of Washington? 6. Of Ben Jonson? 7. Of Burns? 8. What do all these examples prove? 9. Whatencouragement is given to young men? 10. What are the full forms of thewords _you're, 'prentice?_ * * * * * LESSON XLVII. MAG'IC, power of enchantment. CONTEN'TION, strife; controversy. TRA DI'TION, facts or events handed down from age to age. SUB TILE, thin; slight; slender. IN VEST'ED, clothed. CREST'ED, adorned with a plume or crest. AZ'URE, light-blue; sky-colored. PER SPECT' IVE, (PER, _through_; SPECT, _to see_; IVE, _having the power_, ) having the power to see through; a view through. UN DI VERT' ED, (UN, _not_; DI, _aside_; VERTED, _turned_, ) not turned aside; unheeded. VEST'URE, garment. SE DATE', calm; quiet. FAN TAS'TIC, fanciful; visionary. RA DI ANCE, brightness; luster. IN VEC'TIVE, railing speech. I DE'AL, imaginary. FA TIGU ING, wearisome, toilsome. AS PIR'ING, aiming; seeking to rise. NOW AND THEN. JANE TAYLOR. 1. In distant days, --of wild romance, Of magic, mist, and fable, -- When stones could argue, trees advance, [Footnote 1] And brutes to talk were able, -- When shrubs and flowers were said to preach, And manage all the parts of speech, -- 2. 'Twas _then_, no doubt, if 'twas at all, (But doubts we need not mention, ) That _Then_ and _Now_, two adverbs small, Engaged in sharp contention; But how they made each other hear, Tradition doth not make appear. 3. _Then_ was a sprite of subtile frame, With rainbow tints invested. -- On clouds of dazzling light she came, And stars her forehead crested; Her sparkling eyes of azure hue, Seemed borrowed from the distant blue. 4. _Now_ rested on the solid earth, And sober was her vesture; She seldom either grief or mirth Expressed, by word or gesture; Composed, sedate, and firm she stood, And looked industrious, calm, and good. 5. _Then_ sang a wild, fantastic song, Light as the gale she flies on, Still stretching, as she sailed along, Toward the far horizon, Where clouds of radiance, fringed with gold, O'er hills of emerald beauty rolled. 6. _Now_ rarely raised her sober eye To view that golden distance; Nor let one idle minute fly In hope of _Then's_ assistance; But still with busy hands she stood, Intent on doing _present_ good. 7. She ate the sweet, but homely fare, That passing moments brought her; While _Then_, expecting dainties rare, Despised such bread and water; And waited for the fruits and flowers Of future, still receding hours. 8. _Now_, venturing once to ask her why, She answered with invective; And pointed, as she made reply, _Toward that long perspective Of years to come_, --in distant blue, Wherein she meant to _live_ and _do_, 9. "Alas!" says she, _"how hard you toil!_ With undiverted sadness; Behold yon land of wine and oil! Those sunny hills of gladness! Those joys I wait, with eager brow, " _"And so you always will!"_ said _Now_. 10. "That fairy land that looks so real, Recedes as you pursue it; Thus, while you wait for time's ideal, _I take my work and do it;_ Intent to form, when time is gone, A _pleasant past_ to look upon. " 11. "Ah, well, " said _Then_, "I envy not Your dull, fatiguing labors, -- Aspiring to a brighter lot, With thousands of my neighbors; Soon as I reach that golden hill, "-- "But that, " says _Now_, "you _never will!"_ 12. "And e'en suppose you should, " said she, "(Though mortal ne'er attained it, ) Your nature you must change with me, The moment you have gained it; Since hope fulfilled, (you must allow, ) Turns NOW to _Then_, and THEN to _Now_. " [Footnote 1: The reference is to Orpheus, (or' fuse, ) an ancient poetand musician of Greece. The skill of Orpheus on the lyre, was fabled tohave been such as to move the very trees and rocks, and to assemble thebeasts around him as he touched its chords. ] QUESTIONS. --1. What two words are represented as holding a controversy?2. Describe the appearance of each. 3. When did _Then_ propose to dosomething? 4. How did Now act? 5. What answer did _Then_ make, when_Now_ asked her why she waited? 6. What was _Now's_ reply? 7. What did_Now_ finally say to _Then_? 8. How should passages, within aparenthesis, be read? See SANDERS' UNION READER, NUMBER THREE, page 20. * * * * * LESSON XLVIII. IN GEN' IOUS, artful; skillful. STRAT' A GEM, trick; artifice. EX CEED' ED, surpassed. SIG' NALS, signs. AM' I CA BLE, friendly; peaceable. RE PEL', (RE, _back_; PEL, _to drive_, )drive back. MU' TU AL, reciprocal. EX TRAOR' DI NA RY, uncommon. IN VET' ER ATE, obstinate; violent. HARANGUE', declamatory speech. EN TER TAIN' ED, held; had. SUS PI' CION, mistrust. EN COUN' TER ED, met face to face. EX' E CU TED, carried out. FOR' MI DA BLE, fearful; dreadful. PER FID' I OUS, treacherous. PRE CIP' ITATELY, headlong. IN AN' I MATE, dead; lifeless. AN INGENIOUS STRATAGEM. DAYS OF WASHINGTON. 1. In the early part of the war, a sergeant and twelve armed menundertook a journey through the wilderness, in the State of NewHampshire. Their route was remote from any settlement, and they wereunder the necessity of encamping over night in the woods. Nothingmaterial happened the first day of their excursion; but, early in theafternoon of the second, they, from an eminence, discovered a body ofarmed Indians advancing toward them, whose number rather exceeded theirown. 2. As soon as the whites were perceived by their red brethren, thelatter made signals, and the two parties approached each other in anamicable manner. The Indians appeared to be much gratified with meetingthe sergeant and his men, whom, they observed, they considered as theirprotectors. They said they belonged to a tribe which had raised thehatchet with zeal in the cause of liberty, and were determined to do allin their power to repel the common enemy. 3. They shook hands in friendship. When they had conversed with eachother for some time, and exchanged mutual good wishes, they, at length, separated, and each party traveled in a different direction. Afterproceeding to the distance of a mile or more, the sergeant, who wasacquainted with all the different tribes, and knew on which side of thecontest they were respectively ranked, halted his men, and addressedthem in the following words: 4. "My brave companions, we must use the utmost caution, or this nightmay be our last. Should we not make some extraordinary exertions todefend ourselves, to-morrow's sun may find us sleeping, never to wake. You are surprised, comrades, at my words, and your anxiety will not belessened, when I inform you that we have just passed _our mostinveterate foe_, who, under the mask of pretended friendship, which youhave witnessed, would lull us to security, and, by such means, in theunguarded moments of our midnight slumber, without resistance, seal ourfate. " 5. The men with astonishment listened to this short harangue; and theirsurprise was greater, as not one of them had entertained the suspicionbut that they had just encountered friends. They all immediatelyresolved to enter into some scheme for their mutual preservation, andthe destruction of their enemies. By the proposal of their leader, thefollowing plan was adopted and executed. 6. The spot selected for their night's encampment, was near a stream ofwater, which served to cover their rear. They felled a large tree, before which, on the approach of night, a brilliant fire was lighted. Each individual cut a log of wood, about the size of his body, rolled itnicely in his blanket, placed his hat upon one end, and laid it beforethe fire, that the enemy might be deceived, and mistake it for a man. 7. After they had thus fitted out logs, equal in number to thesergeant's party, and had so artfully arranged them, that they might beeasily mistaken for so many soldiers, the men with loaded muskets placedthemselves behind the fallen tree, by which time the shades of eveningbegan to close around. The fire was kept burning brilliantly until latein the evening, when it was suffered to decline. 8. The critical time was now approaching, when an attack might beexpected from the Indians; but the sergeant's men rested in their placeof concealment with great anxiety, till near midnight, withoutperceiving any movement of the enemy. At length, a tall Indian wasdiscovered, through the glimmering of the fire, cautiously moving towardthem, making no noise, and apparently using every means in his power toconceal himself from any one about the camp. 9. For a time, his actions showed him to be suspicious that a guardmight be stationed to watch any unusual appearance, who would give thealarm in case of danger; but, all appearing quiet, he ventured forwardmore boldly, rested upon his toes, and was distinctly seen to move hisfinger as he numbered each log of wood, or what he supposed to be ahuman being quietly enjoying repose. 10. To satisfy himself more fully, as to the number, he counted themover a second time, and cautiously retired. He was succeeded by anotherIndian, who went through the same movements, and retired in the samemanner. Soon after, the whole party, sixteen in number, were discoveredapproaching, and greedily eyeing their supposed victims. 11. The feelings of the sergeant's men can be better imagined thandescribed, when they saw the base and cruel purpose of their enemies, who were now so near that they could scarcely be restrained from firingupon them. The plan, however, of the sergeant, was to have his menremain silent in their places of concealment, till the muskets of thesavages were discharged, that their own fire might be effectual, andopposition less formidable. 12. Their suspense was not of long duration. The Indians, in a body, cautiously approached till within a short distance: they then halted, took deliberate aim, discharged their pieces upon inanimate logs, gave adreadful war-whoop, and instantly rushed forward, with tomahawk andscalping knife in hand, to dispatch the living, and obtain the scalps ofthe dead. 13. As soon as they had collected in close order, more effectually toexecute their horrid intentions, the sergeant's party discharged theirpieces, not on logs of wood, but perfidious savages, --many of whom fellunder the hot fire of the little band, and the rest precipitately fled. But for this ingenious scheme, it is probable that not one of thesetwelve men would have escaped the tomahawk of the savages. QUESTIONS. --1. What did the sergeant say to his men, after parting withthe Indians? 2. What plan did the sergeant propose for theirpreservation? 3. Did the plan succeed? 4. Describe the closing scene. * * * * * LESSON XLIX. VEN' ER A BLE, worthy of reverence. IN VA' SION, irruption; inroad. EX CIT' ED, roused; stirred up. IRE, wrath; indignation. VENGE' ANCE, retaliation. RE LEAS' ED, set free; liberated. TRO PHIES, memorials of victory. BE REFT', deprived. VULT' URE, rapacious bird. TRAV' ERS ED, crossed over. DE SCRIP' TION, representation. MA TER' NAL, motherly. FIL' IAL, becoming a child. CON SAN GUIN' I TY, blood relationship. IN TEL' LI GENCE, news; information. I DEN' TI TY, sameness. SUR VIV' ED, remained alive. AS CER TAIN' ED, found out. IN TER' PRET ER, explainer. LIN' E A MENTS, features. FRANCES SLOCUM, THE YOUNG CAPTIVE. [Footnote: The great massacre at Wyoming was, perhaps, the most bloodyand terrible chapter of the Revolution. A combined Indian and Tory forcehad flung itself upon the peaceful valley, and murdered or made captivenearly all its unoffending inhabitants; its old and its young, --men, women, and children alike, --were either indiscriminately butchered ormade prisoners. Among the prisoners taken on that occasion, was aninfant child by the name of Frances Slocum. The story is a very strangeone; we copy it from Lossing's very excellent work, "The Field Book ofthe Revolution. "] B. J. LOSSING. 1. I passed the evening with the venerable Joseph Slocum, whose familywas among the sufferers, in Wyoming Valley. He related to me all theparticulars of the capture and final discovery of his sister Frances, and other incidents connected with the sufferings of his family. 2. His father was a Quaker, and was distinguished for his kindness tothe Indians. He remained unharmed at the time of the invasion, and, while the torch was applied to the dwellings of others, _his_ was leftuntouched. But his son Giles was in the battle. This, doubtless, excitedthe ire of the Indians, and they resolved on vengeance. 3. Late in theautumn, they were seen prowling about the house, which was situatedabout one hundred rods from the Wilkesbarre Fort. A neighbor, namedKingsley, had been made prisoner, and his wife and two sons had awelcome home in Mr. Slocum's family. One morning, the boys were grindinga knife near the house, when a rifle-shot and a shriek brought Mrs. Slocum to the door. An Indian was scalping the eldest boy, a lad offifteen, with the knife he had been grinding. 4. The savage then went into the house, and caught up a little son ofMrs. Slocum. "See!" exclaimed the frightened mother, "he can do thee nogood; he is lame. " The Indian released the boy, took up her littledaughter Frances, aged five years, gently in his arms, and, seizing theyounger Kingsley, hastened to the mountains. 5. Two Indians who were with him, carried off a black girl, aboutseventeen years of age. Mr. Slocum's daughter caught up her brotherJoseph, (my informant, ) two and a half years old, and fled in safety tothe fort, where an alarm was given; but the savages were beyondsuccessful pursuit. 6. About six weeks afterward, Mr. Slocum and his father-in-law IraTripp, were shot and scalped by some Indians while foddering cattle nearthe house. Again the savages escaped with their horrid trophies. Mrs. Slocum, bereft of father, husband, and child, and stripped of allpossessions but the house that sheltered her, could not leave thevalley, for nine helpless children were yet in her household. 7. She trusted in the God of Elijah; and, if she was not fed by theravens, she was spared by the vultures. She mourned not for the dead;for they were at rest: but little Frances, her lost darling, where wasshe? The lamp of hope kept on burning; but years rolled by, and notidings of the little one came. 8. When peace returned, and friendly intercourse with Canada wasestablished, two of the little captive's brothers started in search ofher. They traversed the wilderness to Niagara, offering rewards for herrecovery; but all in vain. They returned to Wyoming, convinced that thechild was dead. But the mother's heart was still the shrine of hope, andshe felt assured that Frances was not in the grave. 9. Her soul appeared to commune with that of her child, and she oftensaid, "I know Frances is still living. " At length, the mother's heartwas cheered: a woman (for many years had now passed, and Frances, ifliving, must have arrived to womanhood) was found among the Indians, answering the description of the lost one. She only remembered beingcarried away from the Susquehanna. 10. Mrs. Slocum took her home, and cherished her with a mother'stenderness. Yet the mysterious link of sympathy which binds the maternalspirit to its offspring, was unfelt, and the bereaved mother wasbereaved still. "It may be Frances, but it does not seem so; yet thewoman shall ever be welcome, " said Mrs. Slocum. The foundling, also, felt no filial yearnings; and, both becoming convinced that noconsanguinity existed, the orphan returned to her Indian friends. 11. From time to time, the hope of the mother would be revived, andjourneys were made to distant Indian settlements in search of the lostsister; but in vain. The mother went "down into the grave, mourning, "and little Frances was almost forgotten. Her brothers had become agedmen, and their grandchildren were playing upon the very spot, whence shehad been taken. 12. In the summer of 1837, fifty-nine years after her capture, intelligence of Frances was received. Colonel Ewing, an Indian agent andtrader, in a letter from Logansport, Indiana, to the editor of the_Lancaster Intelligencer_, gave such information, that all doubtsrespecting her identity were removed; and Joseph Slocum, with the sisterwho carried him to the fort, and yet survived, immediately journeyed toOhio, where they were joined by their younger brother Isaac. 13. They proceeded to Logansport, where they found Mr. Ewing, andascertained that the woman spoken of by him, lived about twelve milesfrom the village. She was immediately sent for; and, toward evening thenext day, she came into the town, riding a spirited young horse, accompanied by her two daughters, and the husband of one of them, --alldressed in full Indian costume. 14. An interpreter was procured, (for she could not speak or understandEnglish, ) and she listened seriously to what her brothers had to say. She answered but little, and, at sunset, departed for her home, promising to return the next morning. The brother and sister were quitesure that it was indeed Frances, though in her face nothing but Indianlineaments were seen, her color alone revealing her origin. 15. True to her appointment, she appeared the following morning, accompanied as before. Mr. Joseph Slocum then mentioned a mark ofrecognition, which, his mother had said, was a sure test. While playing, one day, with a hammer in a blacksmith's shop, Joseph, then a child twoand a half years old, gave Frances a blow upon the middle finger of theleft hand, which crushed the bone, and deprived the finger of its nail. 16. This test Mr. Slocum had withheld until others should fail. When hementioned it, the aged woman was greatly agitated; and, while tearsfilled the furrows of her face, she held out the wounded finger. Therewas no longer a doubt, and a scene of great interest ensued. Heraffections for her kindred, that had slumbered half a century, werearoused, and she made earnest inquiries after her father, mother, brothers, and sisters. Her full heart--full with the cherished secretsof her history--was opened, and the story of her life freely given. 17. She said the savages, who were Delawares, after taking her to arocky cave in the mountains, departed to the Indian country. The firstnight was the unhappiest of her life. She was kindly treated, --beingcarried tenderly in their arms when she was weary. She was adopted in anIndian family, and brought up as their daughter. For years she lived aroving life, and loved it. She was taught the use of the bow and arrow, and became expert in all the employments of savage existence. 18. When she was grown to womanhood, both her Indian parents died, andshe soon afterward married a young chief of the nation, and removed tothe Ohio country. She was treated with more respect than the Indianwomen generally; and so happy was she in her domestic relations, thatthe chance of being discovered, and compelled to return among thewhites, was the greatest evil that she feared; for she had been taughtthat they were the implacable enemies of the Indians, whom she loved. 19. Her husband died; and, her people having joined the Miamies, shewent with them, and married one of that tribe. The last husband was alsodead, and she had been a widow many years. Children and grandchildrenwere around her, and her life was passing pleasantly away. When sheconcluded the narrative, she lifted her right hand in a solemn manner, and said, "All this is as true as that there is a Great Spirit in theheavens!" she had entirely forgotten her native language, and was apagan. 20. On the day after the second interview, the brothers and sisters, with the interpreter, rode out to her dwelling. It was a well-builtlog-house, in the midst of cultivation. A large herd of cattle and sixtyhorses were grazing in the pasture. Everything betokened plenty andcomfort; for she was wealthy, when her wants and her means werecompared. Her annuity from government, which she received as one of theMiami tribe, had been saved, and she had about one thousand dollars inspecie. 21. Her white friends passed several days very agreeably with her; andsubsequently her brother Joseph, with his daughter, the wife of the Hon. Mr. Bennet, of Wyoming, made her another visit, and bade her a lastfarewell. She died a few years ago, and was buried with considerablepomp; for she was regarded as a queen among her tribe. QUESTIONS. --1. Where is the Wyoming Valley? 2. Relate the incidentsconnected with the capture of little Frances. 3. What efforts were madeto find her? 4. How many years after her capture before she was found?5. Where did they find her? 6. By what test did Mr. Slocum prove thatshe was his sister? 7. What history did she relate of herself? 8. Describe her home. * * * * * LESSON L. FRING' ING, bordering; edging. LEDGE, layer; ridge. DAI SY, (literally _day's eye_, ) a little wild flower very common in summer. RI' OT OUS, noisy; reveling. BOIS' TER OUS, tumultuous; violent. CULL' ING, selecting; picking. BOU QUETS', (_boo kas_, ) bunches of flowers. SULK' Y, morose. BOTH' ER ING, perplexing. UN WONT' ED, rare: uncommon. TE' DI OUS, tiresome; wearisome. THE RAIN-DROPS. DELIA LOUISE COLTON. 1. _The silver rain, the golden rain, _ _The tripping, dancing, laughing rain!_ Stringing its pearls on the green leaf's edge, Fringing with gems the brown rock's ledge, Spinning a vail for the water-fall, And building an amber-colored wall Across the West where the sun-beams fall: _The gentle rain_, in the shady lane, _The pattering, peering, winning rain!_ 2. _The noisy rain, the marching rain, _ _The rushing tread of the heavy rain!_ Pouring its rivers from out the blue, Down on the grass where the daisies grew, Darting in clouds of angry drops Across the hills and the green tree-tops, And kissing, at last, in its giant glee, The foaming lips of the great green sea: _The fierce, wild rain, the riotous rain, _ _The boisterous, dashing, shouting rain!_ 3. _The still night rain, the solemn rain!_ _The soldier-step of the midnight rain!_ With its measured beat on the roof o'erhead, With its tidings sweet of the faithful dead, Whispers from loves who are laid asleep Under the sod where the myrtles creep, Culling bouquets from the sun-lit past, Of flowers too sweet, too fair to last: _The faithful rain, the untiring rain, _ _The cooing, sobbing, weeping rain!_ 4. _The sulky rain, the spiteful rain, _ _The bothering, pilfering, thieving rain!_ Creeping so lazily over the sky, A leaden mask o'er a bright blue eye, And shutting in, with its damp, strong hands, The rosy faces in curls, and bands Of girls who think, with unwonted frown Of the charming laces and things down-town, That might as well for this tiresome rain, Be in the rose land of Almahain: _The horrid rain, the tedious rain, _ _The never-ending, dingy rain!_ QUESTIONS. --1. What is the meaning of the suffix _ing_, in such words as_tripping, dancing, laughing_, &c. ? See SANDERS & McELLIGOTT'S ANALYSIS, page 153, Ex. 206. 2. What is the use of the hyphen in such words as_water-fall, amber-colored_, &c. ? See SANDERS' NEW SPELLER, page l65. * * * * * LESSON LI. LAV' ISH, liberal; profuse. PER' FUMES, pleasant odors. HAR MO' NI OUS, concordant. RAPT' URE, extreme joyousness. GERMS, seed-buds; beginnings. PAR'TICLES, minute parts; atoms. MOTES, very small particles. VENT' URE, dare; have courage. COL' UMNS, pillars. DOME, arched roof; cupola. TI' NY, very small. ES' SENCE, perfume. "SMALL THINGS. " F. BENNOCH. 1. Who dares to scorn the meanest thing, The humblest weed that grows, While pleasure spreads its joyous wing On every breeze that blows? The simplest flower that, hidden, blooms The lowest on the ground, Is lavish of its rare perfumes, And scatters sweetness round. 2. The poorest friend upholds a part Of life's harmonious plan; The weakest hand may have the art To serve the strongest man. The bird that highest, clearest sings, To greet the morning's birth, Falls down to drink, with folded wings, Love's rapture on the earth. 3. From germs too small for mortal sight Grow all things that are seen, Their floating particles of light Weave Nature's robe of green. The motes that fill the sunny rays Build ocean, earth, and sky, -- The wondrous orbs that round us blaze Are motes to Deity! 4. Life, love, devotion, closely twine, Like tree, and flower, and fruit; They ripen by a power divine, Though fed by leaf and root. And he who would be truly great, Must venture to be small; On airy columns rests the dome That, shining, circles all. 5. Small duties grow to mighty deeds; Small words to thoughts of power; Great forests spring from tiny seeds, As moments make the hour. And life, howe'er it lowly grows, The essence to it given, Like odor from the breathing rose, Floats evermore to Heaven. * * * * * LESSON LII. EX TINCT', extinguished. IN COR' PO RA TED, united. TAC' IT, silent; implied. SUB SIST' ED, existed. HOS PI TAL' I TY, kind treatment. IN POR' TU NATE, urgent; pressing. EN CROACH' MENT, intrusion. IR' RI TA TED, provoked; exasperated. MAS' SA CRE, (_mas' sa ker_, ) slaughter. GRAV' I TY, seriousness. DE LIB' ER ATE, take council. TREA' SON, treachery; disloyalty. AP PRIS' ING, informing. BE TRAY', expose. IN VIN CI BLE, unconquerable. WAX' ED, became, grew. BE SOUGHT', entreated; implored. SUF FICE, (_c like z_, ) prove sufficient. MURDERER'S CREEK. [Footnote: In Orange County, New York. ] JAMES K. PAULDING. 1. Little more than a century ago, the beautiful region watered by thisstream, was possessed by a small tribe of Indians, which has long sincebecome extinct, or incorporated with some other savage nation of theWest. Three or four hundred yards from where the stream dischargesitself into the Hudson, a white family, of the name of Stacy, hadestablished itself in a log-house, by tacit permission of the tribe, towhom Stacy had made himself useful by his skill in a variety of littlearts, highly estimated by the savages. 2. In particular, a friendship subsisted between him and an old Indian, called Naoman, who often came to his house, and partook of hishospitality. _The Indians never forgive injuries, nor forget benefits_. The family consisted of Stacy, his wife, and two children, a boy and agirl, the former five, the latter three years old. 3. One day, Naoman came to Stacy's log-hut, in his absence, lighted hispipe, and sat down. He looked very serious, sometimes sighed deeply, butsaid not a word. Stacy's wife asked him what was the matter, --if he wassick. He shook his head, sighed, but said nothing, and soon went away. The next day, he came again and behaved in the same manner. Stacy's wifebegan to think strange of this, and related it to her husband, whoadvised her to urge the old man to an explanation the next time he came. 4. Accordingly, when he repeated his visit the day after, she was moreimportunate than usual. At last, the old Indian said. "I am a red man, and the pale faces are our enemies: why should I speak?"--"But myhusband and I are your friends: you have eaten salt with us a thousandtimes, and my children have sat on your knees as often. If you haveanything on your mind, tell it me. "--"It will cost me my life if it isknown, and the white-faced women are not good at keeping secrets, "replied Naoman. 5. "Try me, and see. "--"Will you swear by your Great Spirit that youwill tell none but your husband?"--"I have none else to tell. "--"Butwill you swear?"--"I do swear by our Great Spirit, I will tell none butmy husband. "--"Not if my tribe should _kill you_ for not telling?"--"Notif your tribe should kill me for not telling. " 6. Naoman then proceeded to tell her that, owing to some encroachmentsof the white people below the mountains, his tribe had become irritated, and were resolved that night to massacre all the white settlers withintheir reach; that she must send for her husband, inform him of thedanger, and, as secretly and speedily as possible, take their canoe andpaddle, with all haste, over the river to Fishkill for safety. "Bequick, and do nothing that may excite suspicion, " said Naoman, as hedeparted. 7. The good wife sought her husband, who was down on the river fishing, told him the story, and, as no time was to be lost, they proceeded totheir boat, which was unluckily filled with water. It took some time toclear it out, and, meanwhile, Stacy recollected his gun, which had beenleft behind. He proceeded to the house, and returned with it. All thistook up considerable time, and precious time it proved to this poorfamily. 8. The daily visits of old Naoman, and his more than ordinary gravity, had excited suspicion in some of the tribe, who had, accordingly, paidparticular attention to the movements of Stacy. One of the youngIndians, who had been kept on the watch, seeing the whole family aboutto take to the boat, ran to the little Indian village, about a mile off, and gave the alarm. Five Indians collected, ran down to the river, wheretheir canoes were moored, jumped in, and paddled after Stacy, who, bythis time, had got some distance out into the stream. 9. They gained on him so fast, that twice he dropped his paddle, andtook up his gun. But his wife prevented his shooting by telling himthat, if he fired, and they were afterwards overtaken, they would meetwith no mercy from the Indians. He accordingly refrained, and plied hispaddle till the sweat rolled in big drops down his forehead. All wouldnot do; they were overtaken within a hundred yards from the shore, andcarried back with shouts of yelling triumph. 10. When they got ashore, the Indians set fire to Stacy's house, anddragged himself, his wife, and children, to their village. Here theprincipal old men, and Naoman among them, assembled to deliberate on theaffair. The chief men of the council stated that some of the tribe had, undoubtedly, been guilty of treason, in apprising Stacy, the white man, of the designs of the tribe, whereby they took the alarm, and well-nighescaped. 11. He proposed to examine the prisoners, to learn who gave theinformation. The old men assented to this, and Naoman among the rest. Stacy was first interrogated by one of the old men, who spoke Englishand interpreted to the others. Stacy refused to betray his informant. His wife was then questioned; while, at the same moment, two Indiansstood threatening the two children, with tomahawks, in case she did notconfess. 12. She attempted to evade the truth, by declaring she had a dream thenight before, which alarmed her, and that she had persuaded her husbandto fly. "The Great Spirit never deigns to talk in dreams to a whiteface, " said the old Indian. "Woman, thou hast two tongues, and twofaces. Speak the truth, or thy children shall surely die. " The littleboy and girl were then brought close to her, and the two savages stoodover them, ready to execute their bloody orders. 13. "Wilt thou name, " said the old Indian, "the red man who betrayed histribe? I will ask thee three times. " The mother answered not. "Wilt thouname the traitor? This is the second time. " The poor mother looked ather husband, and then at her children, and stole a glance at Naoman, whosat smoking his pipe with invincible gravity. 14. She wrung her hands, and wept; but remained silent. "Wilt thou namethe traitor? 'Tis the third and last time. " The agony of the motherwaxed more bitter; again she sought the eye of Naoman; but it was coldand motionless. A pause of a moment awaited her reply, and the tomahawkswere raised over the heads of the children, who besought their mothernot to let them be murdered. 15. "Stop!" cried Naoman. All eyes were turned upon him. "Stop!"repeated he, in a tone of authority. "White woman, thou hast kept thyword with me to the last moment. _I am the traitor_. I have eaten of thesalt, warmed myself at the fire, shared the kindness, of these Christianwhite people, and it was _I_ that told them of their danger. I am awithered, leafless, branchless trunk. Cut me down, if you will: I amready. " 16. A yell of indignation sounded on all sides. Naoman descended fromthe little bank where he sat, shrouded his face with his mantle ofskins, and submitted to his fate. He fell dead at the feet of the whitewoman by a blow of the tomahawk. 17. But the sacrifice of Naoman, and the firmness of the Christian whitewoman, did not suffice to save the lives of the other victims. Theyperished, --how, it is needless to say; and the memory of their fate hasbeen preserved in the name of the pleasant stream, on whose banks theylived and died, which, to this day, is called MURDERER'S CREEK. QUESTIONS. --1. Where is Murderer's Creek? 2. What is said of Naoman andStacy's family? 3. Why did Naoman, at first, refuse to tell Mrs. Stacyof her danger? 4. Did Stacy's family make their escape? 5. Where werethey taken? 6. Did Mrs. Stacy tell who had informed her? 7. Whatmeasures did the Indians adopt, to make her tell? What did Naoman say?9. What did the Indians do with Naoman and Stacy's family? * * * * * LESSON LIII. PER' IL OUS, hazardous; dangerous. DE FILES', narrow passages. PREC' I PIC ES, steep descents. SOL'I TUDE, lonely places. AM MU NI' TION, military stores, as powder, balls, &c. DRA GOONS, mounted soldiers. SUM' MIT, top; highest point. AV A LANCHE', snow-slip. CROUCH' ED, cringed. AD VANCE', forward; proceed. BE NUMB' ED, deprived of feeling. EX PLOITS', heroic deeds. IL LUS' TRATES, explains; makes clear. HE RO'IC, brave; fearless. UN FLINCH'ING, determined; resolute. BAY' O NET, a short, pointed instrument of iron, or broad dagger, fitted to the barrel of a gun. It is so called, because the first bayonets were made at Bayonne, in France. NAPOLEON'S ARMY CROSSING THE ALPS. 1. When Napoleon was carrying war into Italy, he ordered one of hisofficers, Marshal Macdonald, to cross the Splugen with fifteen thousandsoldiers, and join him on the plains below. The Splugen is one of thefour great roads which cross the Alps from Switzerland to Italy. 2. When Macdonald received the order, it was about the last of November, and the winter storms were raging among the mountain passes. It was aperilous undertaking, yet he must obey; and the men began their terriblemarch through narrow defiles and overhanging precipices, six thousandfeet up, up among the gloomy solitudes of the Alps. 3. The cannon were placed on sleds drawn by oxen, and the ammunition waspacked on mules. First came the guides, sticking their long poles in thesnow, in order to find the path; then came workmen to clear away thedrifts; then the dragoons, mounted on their most powerful horses, tobeat down the track; after which followed the main body of the army. 4. They encountered severe storms and piercing cold. When half-way upthe summit, a rumbling noise was heard among the cliffs. The guideslooked at each other in alarm; for they knew well what it meant. It grewlouder and louder. "_An avalanche! an avalanche!_" they shrieked, andthe next moment a field of ice and snow came leaping down the mountain, striking the line of march, and sweeping thirty dragoons in a wildplunge below. The black forms of the horses and their riders were seenfor an instant struggling for life, and then they disappeared forever. 5. The sight struck the soldiers with horror; they crouched and shiveredin the blast. Their enemy was not now flesh and blood, but wild winterstorms; swords and bayonets could not defend them from the desolatingavalanche. Flight or retreat was hopeless; for all around lay thedrifted snow, like a vast winding-sheet. On they must go, or death wascertain, and the brave men struggled forward. 6. "Soldiers!" exclaimed their commander, "you are called to Italy; yourgeneral needs you. Advance and conquer, first the mountain and the snow, then the plains and the enemy!" Blinded by the winds, benumbed with thecold, and far beyond the reach of aid, Macdonald and his men pressed on. Sometimes a whole company of soldiers were suddenly swept away by anavalanche. 7. On one occasion, a poor drummer, crawling out from the mass of snow, which had torn him from his comrades, began to beat his drum for relief. The muffled sound came up from his gloomy resting-place, and was heardby his brother soldiers; but none could go to his rescue. For an hour, he beat rapidly, then the strokes grew fainter, until they were heard nomore, and the poor drummer laid himself down to die. Two weeks wereoccupied in this perilous march, and two hundred men perished in theundertaking. 8. This passage of the Splugen is one of the bravest exploits in thehistory of Napoleon's generals, and illustrates the truth of theproverb, "_Where there is a will there is a way_. " No one can read theheroic deeds of brave men grappling with danger and death, without afeeling of respect and admiration; but heroic deeds are always the fruitof _toil_ and _self-sacrifice_. _No one can accomplish great things, unless he aims at great things, and pursues that aim with unflinchingcourage and perseverance. _ QUESTIONS. --1. What orders had Napoleon given to Marshal Macdonald? 2. What time of year was it? 3. Describe the march of the army over theAlps. 4. What disaster occurred to them? 5. How did their commanderaddress the army? 6 Describe the drummer boy's fate. 7. How many menperished? 8. What does this exploit of the army illustrate? 9. What issaid of heroic deeds? * * * * * LESSON LIV. PROV' ERBS, sayings; maxims. TRAC' ED, shown; marked out. WOO ERS, suitors; lovers. DENSE, close; thick. STRIV' ING, making efforts. CON TROL', restraint; government. COPE, strive; contend. DE FY' ING, daring; outbraving. GHOST, specter; apparition. RE LY' ING, trusting; depending. WIN' NING, getting; gaining. BRAM' BLES, prickly shrubs. WHERE THERE'S A WILL THERE'S A WAY. ELIZA COOK. 1. We have faith in old proverbs full surely, For wisdom has traced what they tell, And truth may be drawn up as purely From them, as it may from a "well. " Let us question the thinkers and doers, And hear what they honestly say, And you'll find they believe, like bold wooers, In "_Where there's a WILL there's a WAY. _" 2. The hills have been high for man's mounting, The woods have been dense for his ax, The stars have been thick for his counting, The sands have been wide for his tracks. The sea has been deep for his diving, The poles have been broad for his sway, But bravely he's proved by his striving, That "_Where there's a WILL there's a WAY. _" 3. Have ye vices that ask a destroyer, Or passions that need your control? Let Reason become your employer, And your body be ruled by your soul. Fight on, though ye bleed at the trial, Resist with all strength that ye may, Ye may conquer Sin's host by denial, For, "_Where there's a WILL there's a WAY. _" 4. Have ye poverty's pinching to cope with'? Does suffering weigh down your might'? Only call up a spirit to hope with, And dawn may come out of the night. Oh! much may be done by defying The ghost of Despair and Dismay, And much may be gained by relying On "_Where there's a WILL there's a WAY. _" 5. Should ye see afar off that worth winning, Set out on a journey with trust, And ne'er heed though your path at beginning Should be among brambles and dust. Though it is by footsteps ye do it, And hardships may hinder and stay, Keep a heart and be sure ye go through it, For, "_Where there's a WILL there's a WAY. _" QUESTIONS. --1. What is the meaning of this proverb, "_Where there's aWILL there's a WAY?_" 2. What instances can you mention in which itstruth has been realized? 3. Do you apply this proverb in getting yourlessons? * * * * * LESSON LV. TAL' IS MAN, charm; amulet. VAN, front or head of an army. FI' ER Y, ardent; passionate. PLUMES, supplies with feathers. TENSE' LY, tightly. SWERVES, deviates. DAUNT, frighten; terrify. BAN' ISH, expel; drive away. TEL EGRAPH, (TELE, _far off_; GRAPH, _writing or marking_, ) a machine to convey news far off. See SANDERS' NEW SPELLER, p. 161, Ex. 419. "I CAN!" 1. "I CAN!" oh yes, --we _know_ you can! We read it in your eye; There is a mystic talisman Flashing all gloriously! Speak it out boldly, let it ring, There is a volume there, There's meaning in the eagle's wing _Then soar, and do, and dare!_ 2. "I CAN!" climbs to the mountain top, And plows the billowy main; He lifts the hammer in the shop, And drives the saw and plane; He's fearless in the battle shock, And always leads the van Of young America's brave sons, -- They never quailed nor ran. 3. "I CAN!" He is a fiery youth, And WILL a brother twin, And, arm in arm, in love and truth. They'll either die or win. Shoulder to shoulder, ever ready, All firm and fearless still These brothers labor, --true and steady, -- "I CAN, " and brave "I WILL. " 4. "I CAN, " e'en on his pleasure trips, Travels by telegraph; He plumes the snowy wing of ships, And never works by half; His music is the humming loom, And shuttles are his dancers. , Then clear the way, and quick give room For the noble-souled "I CAN, " sirs! 5. "I CAN!" Indeed, we _know_ you can! 'Tis lithe in every limb, To your blood 'tis a busy fan, How can the flame burn dim? It tensely draws your sturdy nerves, -- No bow's without a string, And when nor bow nor bow-string swerves, An arrow's on the wing. 6. There is a magic in the power Of an unbending _will_, That makes us stronger every hour, For greater efforts still. Then banish from you every CAN'T, And show yourself a MAN, And nothing will your purpose daunt, Led by the brave "I CAN!" QUESTIONS. --1. What does "_I can_" do? 2. Who is called his twinbrother? 3. What is said of an unbending will? * * * * * LESSON LVI. CAS' ED, invested. ARM' OR, defensive arms. STORM' ING, taking by assault. AIR' Y, fanciful; visionary. FOR' TRESS, fort; strong-hold. DE TAIN', hinder; keep back. WEAP' ONS, instruments for defense, or offense. UN WOR' THY, undeserving. RE GRET', sorrow for the past. PHAN' TOM, specter; ghost-like. SCARCE' LY, hardly. NOW, TO-DAY. ADELAIDE A. PROCTER. 1. ARISE`! for the day is passing, And you lie dreaming on; Your brothers are cased in armor, And forth to the fight are gone! A place in the ranks awaits you; Each man has some part to play; The Past and the Future are nothing In the face of stern TO-DAY. 2. ARISE from your dreams of the Future, -- Of gaining some hard-fought field, Of storming some airy fortress, Or bidding some giant yield; Your Future has deeds of glory, Of honor, (God grant it may!) But your arm will never be stronger, Or needed as _now_, --TO-DAY. 3. ARISE`! if the Past detain you, Her sunshine and storms forget; No chains so unworthy to hold you As those of a vain regret; Sad or bright, she is lifeless ever; Cast her phantom arms away, Nor look back, save to learn the lesson Of a nobler strife TO-DAY. 4. ARISE`! for the day is passing; The sound that you scarcely hear, Is the enemy marching to battle!(f. ) _Rise_`! RISE`! for the foe is near! Stay not to sharpen your weapons, Or the hour will strike at last, When, from dreams of a coming battle, You may wake to find it past! QUESTIONS. --1. What reasons are assigned why we should arouse to effort_now, to-day?_ 2. What rule for the falling inflection on _arise?_ SeeRule VIII. , page 33. 3. How, according to the notation mark, should thelast verse be read? * * * * * LESSON LVII. REV O LU' TION, change of government. FAN' CI ED, thought; imagined, UN GEN' ER OUS, mean; ignoble. AC KNOWL' EDG ED, owned. PLOT' TING, planning; contriving. DE SIGN', purpose; intention. COR RE SPOND' ENCE, intercourse by letters. CON' QUEST, victory. IN' TER VIEW, meeting; conference. SOL' I TA RY, lonely; retired. CON GRAT' U LA TING, rejoicing with. IS' SU ED, started up; come forth. SUS PECT' ING, mistrusting. DE TECT' ED, exposed; found out. A' MI A BLE, lovely; agreeable. FEL' ON, criminal. CON' SE QUENCE, (CON, _with_; SEQUENCE, _a following_, ) a following with, as an effect, or result. IM PRESS' IVE, (IM, _in_; PRESS, _to bear upon_; IVE, _tending to_, ) tending to press in, or upon; producing an effect. IN VOLV' ED, (IN, _in_; VOLVED, _rolled_, ) rolled in; enveloped. THE CAPTURE OF MAJOR ANDRE. 1. One of the saddest events in the history of the American Revolutionis the _treason of Arnold_, and, in consequence of it, _the death ofMajor Andre_. Arnold was an officer in the American army, who, thoughbrave, had a proud and impatient spirit. 2. He fancied he had not all the honor and the pay due for his services, and, having plunged himself into debt by his expensive style of living, these things soured his heart; and, as is the case with ungenerousminds, he never acknowledged a fault, or forgave an injury. More thanthis, he sought revenge against his countrymen by plotting _treasonagainst his country_. 3. Soon after forming this bad design, he opened a secret correspondencewith the English General, Henry Clinton, and, at the same time, askedGeneral Washington to give him the command of West Point, an importantpost on the Hudson river. Washington let him have it, and this hedetermined to betray into the hands of the enemy, provided he could makeout of it a good bargain for himself. 4. He wrote to General Clinton what he would do, and asked to have asecret interview with some English officer, in order to agree upon theterms. General Clinton was delighted; for he thought an army dividedagainst itself, must prove an easy conquest; and he asked Major Andre, agallant young officer, to meet Arnold, and settle the price of histreason. 5. Andre did not wish to engage in such business; but he obeyed, andwent up the Hudson in an English sloop-of-war for this purpose. Arnoldagreed to meet him at a certain spot, and when night came on, sent alittle boat to bring him ashore. He landed at the foot of a mountaincalled the Long Clove, on the western side of the river, a few milesfrom Haverstraw, where he found the traitor hid in a clump of bushes. 6. Little did poor Andre foresee the fatal consequences of this step. All that still star-light night they sat and talked; daylight came, andthe business was not concluded. Arnold dismissed the boatmen, and ledhis companion to a solitary farm-house on the river's bank, where thepapers were finally drawn up, and hid in one of Andre's stockings. Andrefelt how exposed he was to danger in the enemy's country, and heartilywished himself back to the sloop. 7. Forced now, however, to go by land, Arnold gave him a pass to gothrough the American lines; and, at sunset, he set off, on horseback, with a guide. They crossed the river, and, getting along on theirdangerous journey with but few alarms, the guide left the next morning, and Andre rode briskly on, congratulating himself upon leaving alldangers behind, for he was rapidly nearing the English lines, when therewas a loud shout, "_Stand!_ HALT!" and three men [Footnote: Paulding, Williams, and Van Wart. ] issued from the woods, one seizing the bridle, and the others presenting their guns. 8. Andre told them he had a pass to White Plains, on urgent businessfrom General Arnold, and begged them not to detain him; but the men, suspecting that all was not right, began to search him; and, hauling offhis boots, they discovered his papers in his stockings. 9. Finding himself detected, he offered them any sum of money, if theywould let him go. "No;" answered the sturdy men, "not if you would giveus ten thousand guineas;" for, though poor, they were above sellingtheir country at any price. Andre was sent a prisoner to GeneralWashington's camp. Arnold, on learning the news of his capture, immediately fled from West Point, and made his escape to the Englishsloop. 10. According to the rules of war, poor Andre was sentenced to the deathof a spy. Great efforts were made to save him. General Clinton offered alarge sum to redeem him. So young, so amiable, so gallant, and to meet afelon's doom! but, in ten days he was hung. 11. Arnold lived; but, with the thirty thousand dollars--the price ofhis treachery--he lived a miserable man, despised even by those whobought him. And one impressive lesson which the story teaches, is, that_the consequences of guilt do not fall alone on the guilty man;_ othersare often involved in distress, disgrace, and ruin. QUESTIONS. --1. What is one of the saddest events in the history of theAmerican Revolution? 2. Who was Arnold? 3. What reason is assigned whyhe plotted treason against his country? 4. What measures did he adopt todo this? 5. With whom, and where did he make the agreement? 6. By whomwas Andre detected? 7. What became of Andre and Arnold? * * * * * LESSON LVIII. SE CUR' ED, obtained. HES' I TA TED, paused. MIS' ER A BLE, wretched. SUP' PLI ANT, petitioner; beggar. PECUL' IAR, singular; remarkable. IN DIC' A TIVE, showing; intimating. SO LIC' IT ED, asked; requested. COS TUME', mode of dress. VIG' OR OUS, stout; strong. SYN' O NYM, a word meaning the same as some other word. IN' FA MY, utter disgrace. [Headnote 1: TAL' LEY RAND, a distinguished French statesman, was bornFeb. 13th, 1754. He died May 20th, 1838. ] BENEDICT ARNOLD. 1. There was a day when Talleyrand [Headnote 1] arrived in Havre, directfrom Paris. It was the darkest hour of the French Revolution. Pursued bythe blood-hounds of the Reign of Terror, stripped of every wreck ofproperty or power, Talleyrand secured a passage to America, in a shipabout to sail. He was a beggar and a wanderer in a strange land, to earnhis bread by daily labor. 2. "Is there an American staying at your house?" he asked the landlordof the hotel. "I am bound to cross the water, and should like a letterto a person of influence in the New World. " The landlord hesitated amoment, then replied: "There is a gentleman up-stairs, either fromAmerica or Britain; but whether an American or an Englishman, I can nottell. " 3. He pointed the way, and Talleyrand, who, in his life, was Bishop, Prince, and Prime Minister, ascended the stairs. A miserable suppliant, he stood before the stranger's door, knocked, and entered. In the farcorner of the dimly-lighted room, sat a man of some fifty years, hisarms folded, and his head bowed on his breast. From a window directlyopposite, a faint light rested on his forehead. 4. His eyes looked from beneath the downcast brows, and gazed onTalleyrand's face with a peculiar and searching expression. His face wasstriking in outline, --the mouth and chin indicative of an iron will. Hisform, vigorous, even with the snows of fifty winters, was clad in adark, but rich and distinguished costume. 5. Talleyrand advanced, stated that he was a fugitive; and, under theimpression that the gentleman before him was an American, he solicitedhis kind and generous offices. He related his history in eloquent Frenchand broken English. 6. "I am a wanderer, and an exile. I am forced to flee to the New World, without a friend or home. You are an American! Give me, then, I beseechyou, a letter of yours, so that I may be able to earn my bread. I amwilling to toil in any manner; the scenes of Paris have seized me withsuch horror, that a life of labor would be a paradise to a career ofluxury in France. You will give me a letter to one of your friends? Agentleman like yourself has, doubtless, many friends. " 7. The strange gentleman rose. With a look that Talleyrand never forgot, he retreated to the door of the next chamber, --his eyes looking stillfrom beneath his darkened brow. He spoke as he retreated backward, --hisvoice was full of meaning. "I am the only man born in the New World, whocan raise his hand to God and say, I have not a friend, not one, in allAmerica!" Talleyrand never forgot the overwhelming sadness of that lookwhich accompanied these words. 8. "Who are you?" he cried, as the strange man retreated to the nextroom: "your name?" "My name, " he replied, with a smile that had more ofmockery than joy in its convulsive expression, --"my name is BenedictArnold!" He was gone: Talleyrand sank into his chair, gasping the words, "ARNOLD, THE TRAITOR!" 9. Thus, you see, he wandered over the earth another Cain, with thewanderer's mark upon his brow. Even in that secluded room, in that innat Havre, his crimes found him out, and forced him to tell his name:that name the synonym of infamy. The last twenty years of his life arecovered with a cloud, from whose darkness but a few gleams of lightflash out upon the page of history. 10. The manner of his death is not exactly known; but we can not doubtthat he died utterly friendless, --that remorse pursued him to the grave, whispering "John Andre" in his ear, --and that the memory of his courseof infamy gnawed like a canker at his heart, murmuring forever, "True toyour country, what might you have been, O ARNOLD, THE TRAITOR!" QUESTIONS. --1. Who was Talleyrand? 2. Why was he obliged to flee fromParis? 3. Whom did he seek at Havre? 4. Why did he wish to see thestranger? 5. Describe the appearance of this stranger. 6. What did hesay to Talleyrand? 7. Who did the stranger prove to be? 8. What is saidof Arnold? 9. Where is Havre? 10. Where is Paris? 11. What is meant by_New World_? * * * * * LESSON LIX. LO CO MO' TIVE, steam-engine to propel rail-cars. COL LIS' ION, (_s_ like _zh_, ) shock; violent contact. EN GIN EER', one who manages an engine. PRE CIP' I TA TED, thrown headlong. RE-EN FORCE' MENTS, additional forces. OB' STI NATE, unyielding. CORPS, (_kore_, ) body of troops. BANK' RUPT CY, insolvency. E NOR' MOUS, immense; very large. AS' SETS, amounts due. RE MIT' TANCE, money remitted. PRE SERV' ED, secured; saved. MA TU' RI TY, time of payment. RE PRIEVE', respite. IN SOLV' ENT, one unable to pay his debts. PROV O CA' TION, incitement to anger. IG NO MIN' I OUS, disgraceful. SAC RI FIC' ED, (_c_ like _z_, ) thrown away. BEHIND TIME. FREEMAN HUNT. 1. A railroad train was rushing along at almost lightning speed. A curvewas just ahead, beyond which was a station, at which the cars usuallypassed each other. The conductor was late, --so late that the periodduring which the down train was to wait, had nearly elapsed: but hehoped yet to pass the curve safely. Suddenly, a locomotive dashed intosight right ahead. In an instant, there was a collision. A shriek, ashock, and fifty souls were in eternity; and all because an engineer hadbeen _behind time_. 2. A great battle was going on. Column after column had beenprecipitated for eight mortal hours on the enemy posted along the ridgeof a hill. The summer sun was sinking to the west; re-enforcements forthe obstinate defenders were already in sight; it was necessary to carrythe position with one final charge, or every thing would be lost. Apowerful corps had been summoned from across the country, and, if itcame up in season, all would yet be right. The great conqueror, confident in its arrival, formed his reserve into an attacking column, and led them down the hill. The whole world knows the result. Grouchy[Footnote: Pronounced _Groo' shee_. ] failed to appear; the imperialguard was beaten back; Waterloo was lost. Napoleon died a prisoner atSt. Helena, because one of his marshals was _behind time_. 3. A leading firm, in commercial circles had long struggled againstbankruptcy. As it had enormous assets in California, it expectedremittances by a certain day; and if the sums promised arrived, itscredit, its honor, and its future prosperity would be preserved. Butweek after week elapsed without bringing the gold. At last, came thefatal day on which the firm had bills maturing to enormous amounts. Thesteamer was telegraphed at daybreak; but it was found on inquiry thatshe brought no funds; and the house failed. The next arrival broughtnearly half a million to the insolvents, but it was too late; they wereruined, because their agent, in remitting, had been _behind time_. 4. A condemned man was led out for execution, he had taken human life, but under circumstances of the greatest provocation, and public sympathywas active in his behalf. Thousands had signed petitions for a reprieve, a favorable answer had been expected the night before, and, though ithad not come, even the sheriff felt confident that it would yet arrivein season. Thus the morning passed without the appearance of themessenger. The last moment was up. The prisoner took his place on thedrop, the cap was drawn over his eyes, the bolt was drawn, and alifeless body hung suspended in the air. Just at that moment a horsemancame into sight, galloping down the hill, his steed covered with foam. He carried a packet in his right hand, which he waved to the crowd. Hewas the express rider with the reprieve. But he had come too late. Acomparatively innocent man had died an ignominious death, because awatch had been five minutes too slow, making its bearer arrive _behindtime_. 5. It is continually so in life. The best laid plans, the most importantaffairs, the fortunes of individuals, the wealth of nations, honor, happiness, life itself, are daily sacrificed because somebody is "behindtime. " There are men who always fail in whatever they undertake, simplybecause they are "behind time. " Five minutes in a crisis are worthyears. It is but a little period, yet it has often saved a fortune, orredeemed a people. If there is one virtue that should be cultivated morethan another by him who would succeed in life, it is _punctuality_; ifthere is one error that should be avoided, it is being _behind time_. QUESTIONS. --1. What sad results are mentioned, in consequence of being_behind time?_ 2. What virtue should be cultivated, and what erroravoided? 3. What is the use of the hyphen in the word _re-enforcements?_See SANDERS' NEW SPELLER, page 165. * * * * * LESSON LX. TWIN' ED, interwoven. GAR' LAND, wreath of flowers. MUS' ED, thought; meditated. AN TIQUE', (_an teek'_, ) ancient. MOLD, shape; form. RARE, scarce; seldom seen. SOOTH ED, calmed; quieted. THROB' BED, beat; palpitated. CO' ZY, snug; comfortable. EBB' ED, flowed back. JOUR' NEY, travel. LONG' ING, earnestly desiring. TIE, bond of affection. RIV' EN, torn asunder. "HOW HAPPY I'LL BE. " 1. A little girl sat amid the flowers, In the blush and bloom of childhood's hours; She twined the buds in a garland fair, And bound them up in her shining hair: "Ah, me!" said she, "_how happy I'll be_, When ten years more have gone over me, And I am a maiden with youth's bright glow Flushing my cheek, and lighting my brow!" 2. A maiden mused in a pleasant room, Where the air was filled with a soft perfume; Vases were near of antique mold, And beautiful pictures, rare and old; And she, amid all the beauty there, Was by far the loveliest and most fair. "Ah, me!" said she, "_how happy I'll be_, When my heart's own choice comes back to me, When I proudly stand by my dear one's side, With the thrilling joy of a youthful bride!" 3. A mother bent o'er the cradle nest Where she soothed her babe to his smiling rest; She watched the sleep of her cherub-boy, And her spirit throbbed with exulting joy. "Ah, me!" said she, "_how happy I'll be_, When he reaches manhood, proud and free, And the world bows down, in its rapture wild, It the earnest words of my darling child!" 4. An aged one sat by the cozy hearth, Counting life's sands as they ebbed from earth; Feeble and frail; the race she run Had borne her along to the setting sun. "Ah, me!" said she, "_how happy I'll be_, When from time's long fever my soul is free, When the world fades out with its weary strife, And I soar away to a better life!" 5. 'Tis thus we journey from youth to age, Longing to turn to another page, Striving to hasten the years away, Lighting our hearts with the future's ray, Hoping on earth till its visions fade, Wishing and waiting, through sun and shade, But turning, when earth's last tie is riven, To the beautiful rest of a fadeless Heaven. QUESTIONS. --1. When did the little girl think she would be happy? 2. What did she say when she became old? 3. What are we constantlyexpecting from youth to age? 4. What is the meaning of the suffix _ing_, in such words as _longing, striving, lighting_, &c. ? See SANDERS &McELLIGOTT'S ANALYSIS, page 134, Ex. 176. * * * * * LESSON LXI. VET' ER AN, old soldier. GRASP' ED, seized hold of. AN' CIENT, old. MUR' MUR, ED, uttered in a low voice. IM MOR' TAL, imperishable. RAG' ED, was furious. RE MAIN', still exists. SIRE, father. LIGHT' EN ED, (EN, _make_; ED, _did_, ) did make light. THE SWORD OF BUNKER HILL. WILLIAM R. WALLACE. 1. He lay upon his dying bed, (pl. ) His eye was growing dim, When, with a feeble voice, he called His weeping son to him: "Weep not, my boy, " the veteran said, "I bow to Heaven's high will; But quickly from yon antlers bring, The sword of Bunker Hill. " 2. The sword was brought; the soldier's eye Lit with a sudden flame; And, as he grasped the ancient blade, He murmured Warren's[1] name; Then said, "My boy, I leave you gold, But what is richer still, I leave you, mark me, mark me, now, The sword of Bunker Hill. 3. "'Twas on that dread, immortal day, I dared the Briton's band, A captain raised his blade on me, I tore it from his hand; And while the glorious battle raged, It lightened Freedom's will; For, boy, the God of Freedom blessed The sword of Bunker Hill. 4. "Oh! keep this sword, " his accents broke, -- A smile--and he was dead; But his wrinkled hand still grasped the blade, Upon that dying bed. The son remains, the sword remains, Its glory growing still, And twenty millions bless the sire And sword of Bunker Hill. [Footnote 1: General Warren, a brave and valuable officer, fell by amusket-ball, while fighting the British at Bunker's Hill, June 17th, 1775. ] QUESTIONS. --1. What request did the old veteran make of his son? 2. Whatbequest did he make to him? 3. How did he obtain that sword? 4. What didhe say to his son? 5. Who was Warren? * * * * * LESSON LXII. LE' GEND, fictitious narrative. MOR' TAL, deadly. COM' BAT, battle; conflict. PRI ME' VAL, first; primitive. MUS' CU LAR, strong; vigorous. CA DAV' ER OUS, pale; sickly. REF U GEE', runaway; fugitive. QUAR' TER, mercy; indulgence. PIN' ION ED, confined; shackled. A BYSS', yawning gulf. PRO POS' AL, offer; proposition. DI SHEV' EL ED, disordered. IM BO' SOM ED, surrounded; inclosed. CON FESS' ED, owned; acknowledged. RE LENT' ING, pitying; compassionate. RAN' DOM, venture. SU PER STI' TION, false religious belief. A VENGE', take satisfaction for. UN CON' SCIOUS, unaware. SUB LIM' I TY, grandeur. THE BIBLE LEGEND OF THE WIS SA HI' KON. LIPPARD. 1. It was here in the wilds of the Wis sa hi' kon, on the day of battle, as the noonday sun came shining through the thickly clustered leaves, that two men met in mortal combat. They grappled in deadly conflict neara rock that rose, like the huge wreck of some primeval world, at leastone hundred feet above the dark waters of the Wis sa hi'kon. 2. That man with the dark brow and the darker gray eye, --with themuscular form, clad in the blue hunting-frock of the Revolution, --is aContinental, named Warner. His brother was murdered at the massacre ofPao'li. That _other_ man, with long black hair drooping along hiscadaverous face, is clad in the half-military costume of a Tory refugee. _That_ is the murderer of Pao'li, named Dabney. 3. They had met there in the woods by accident; and now they fought, notwith sword or rifle, but with long and deadly hunting-knives, that flashin the light as they go turning, and twining, and twisting over thegreen-sward. At last, the Tory is down!--down on the green-sward, withthe knee of the Continental upon his breast, --that up-raised knifequivering in the light, --that dark-gray eye flashing death into hisface! 4. "Quarter! I yield!" gasped the Tory, as the knee was pressed upon hisbreast. "Spare me!--I yield!" 5. "_My_ brother, " said the patriot soldier, in a low tone of deadlyhate, --"_My_ brother cried for quarter on the night of Pa o' li, and, even as he clung to your knees, you struck that knife into his heart. Oh, I will give you the quarter of Pa o' li!" And his hand was raisedfor the blow, and his teeth were clinched in deadly hate. He paused fora moment, and then pinioned the Tory's arms, and, with one rapid stride, dragged him to the verge of the rock, and held him quivering over theabyss. 6. "Mercy!" gasped the Tory, turning black and ashy by turns, as thatawful gulf yawned below. "_Mercy! I have a wife! a child! spare me!_" 7. Then the Continental, with his muscular strength gathered for theeffort, shook the murderer once more over the abyss, and then hissedthis bitter sneer between his teeth, --"_My brother had a wife and twochildren_. The morning after the night of Pa o' li, that wife was awidow, --those children were orphans! Would not you like to go and begyour life of that widow and her children?" 8. The proposal, made by the Continental in the mere mockery of hate, was taken in serious earnest by the horror-stricken Tory. He begged tobe taken to the widow and her children, to have the pitiful privilege ofbegging his life. After a moment's serious thought, the patriot soldierconsented. He bound the Tory's arms yet tighter, placed him on the rockagain, and then led him up the woods. A quiet cottage, imbosomed amongthe trees, broke on their eyes. 9. They entered that cottage. There, beside the desolate hearth-stone, sat the widow and her children. She was a matronly woman of about thirtyyears, with a face faded by care, a deep, dark eye, and long, disheveledhair about her shoulder. On one side was a dark-haired boy, of some sixyears; on the other, a little girl, one year younger, with light hairand blue eyes. The Bible, an old, venerable volume, lay open on thatmother's lap. 10. And then that pale-faced Tory flung himself on his knees, confessedthat he had butchered her husband on the night of Pa o'li, but beggedhis life at her hands! _"Spare me, for the sake of my wife--my child!"_He had expected that his pitiful moan would touch the widow's heart; butnot one relenting gleam softened her pale face. 11. "The Lord shall judge between us!" she said in a cold, icy tone, that froze the murderer's heart. "Look! The Bible lies open before me. Iwill close that volume, and then this boy shall open it, and place hisfinger at random upon a line, and by _that line_ you shall live or die!"This was a strange proposal, made in full faith of a wild and darksuperstition of the olden time. For a moment, the Tory, kneeling there, livid as ashes, was wrapt in thought. Then, in a faltering voice, hesignified his consent. 12. Raising her dark eyes to heaven, the mother prayed the Great Fatherto direct the finger of her son. She closed the book, and handed it tothat boy, whose young cheek reddened with loathing as he gazed upon hisfather's murderer. He took the Bible, opened its holy pages at random, and placed his fingers upon a verse. 13. Then there was a silence. That Continental soldier, who had sworn toavenge his brother's death, stood there with dilating eyes and partedlips. Then the culprit, kneeling on the floor, with a face likediscolored clay, felt his heart leap to his throat. Then, in a clear, bold voice, the widow read this line from the Old Testament. It wasshort, yet terrible: "_That man shall die!_" 14. Look! The brother springs forward to plunge a knife into themurderer's heart; but the Tory, pinioned as he is, begs that one moretrial may be made by the little girl, --that child of five years, withgolden hair and laughing eyes. The widow consents. There is an awfulpause. With a smile in her eye, without knowing what she does, thelittle girl opens the Bible, --she turns her laughing face away, --sheplaces her fingers upon the page. 15. That awful silence grows deeper. The deep-drawn breath of thebrother, and the broken gasps of the murderer, alone disturb thestillness. The widow and dark-eyed boy are breathless. That little girl, unconscious as she was, caught a feeling of awe from the countenancesaround her, and stood breathless, her face turned aside, and her tinyfingers resting on that line of life or death. At last, gatheringcourage, the widow bent her eyes on the page, and read. It was a linefrom the New Testament: "LOVE YOUR ENEMIES. " Ah! that moment wassublime! 16. Oh, awful Book of God! in whose dread pages we see Job talking faceto face with Jehovah, or Jesus waiting by Samaria's well, or wanderingby the waves of dark Galilee! Oh, awful Book! shining to-night, as Ispeak, the light of that widow's home, --the glory of the mechanic'sshop, --shining where the world comes not, to look on the last night ofthe convict in his cell, lightening the way to God, even over that dreadgibbet! 17. Oh, Book of terrible majesty and child-like love, --for sublimitythat crushes the soul into awe, --of beauty that melts the heart withrapture! you never shone more strangely beautiful than there in thelonely cot of the Wissa hi'kon, where you saved the murderer's life. For, --need I tell you?--_that murderer's life was saved_. That widowrecognized the finger of God, and even the stern brother was awed intosilence. The murderer went his way. 18. Now look ye, how wonderful are the ways of Heaven! That very night, as the widow sat by her lonely hearth, her orphans by her side, --satthere with a crushed heart and hot eye-balls, thinking of her husband, who, she supposed, now lay moldering on the blood-drenched soil of Pa o'li, --there was a tap at the door. She opened it, and that husband, living, though covered with wounds, was in her arms! He had fallen at Pao' li, but not in death. _He was alive_, --his wife lay panting on hisbreast. That night there was a prayer in that wood-embowered cot of theWis sa hi' kon. QUESTIONS. --1. What two men are said to have engaged in deadly combat?2. Which gained the mastery? 3. What did the patriot soldier say to theTory, when he cried, _Quarter_? 4. What, when the Tory told him he had awife and child? 5. What proposal was made to him? 6. How was his fate tobe decided? 7. Was his life spared? 8. What proved the justice of thedecision? * * * * * LESSON LXIII. VES' TI BULE, porch, entrance. VI' BRATE, move to and fro. IM MOR' TALS, undying creatures. MON' U MENTS, memorials. A CHIEVE', accomplish. MU TA BLE, changeable. IM MOR TAL' I TY, deathless existence. IL LU' MIN ATE, enlighten. UN DER STAND' ING, intellect. RE AL' I TIES, truths; facts. AS SAULTS', violent attacks. DE SER' TION, abandonment. IN EX HAUST' I BLE, never-failing. CHAR' TER, title; deed. ADVICE TO THE YOUNG. E. H. CHAPIN. 1. Young friends', in whatever pursuits you may engage, you must notforget that the lawful objects of human efforts, are but means to higherresults and nobler ends. Start not forward in life with the idea ofbecoming mere seekers of pleasure, --sportive butterflies searching forgaudy flowers. Consider and act with reference to the true ends ofexistence. 2. This world is but the vestibule of an immortal life. Every action ofyour life touches on some chord that will vibrate in eternity. Thesethoughts and motives within you, stir the pulses of a deathless spirit. Act not, then, as mere creatures of this life, who, for a little while, are to walk the valleys and the hills, to enjoy the sunshine and tobreathe the air, and then pass away and be no more; but _act_ asimmortals, with an _aim_ and a _purpose_ worthy of your high nature. 3. Set before you, as the chief object to be obtained, an _end_ that issuperior to any on earth, --_a desirable end_, A PERFECT END. Labor toaccomplish a work which shall survive unchanged and beautiful, when timeshall have withered the garland of youth, when thrones of power andmonuments of art shall have crumbled into ashes; and, finally, aim toachieve something, which, when these our mutable and perishing voicesare hushed forever, shall live amid the songs and triumphs ofIMMORTALITY. 4. Well will it be for you, if you have a _guide_ within, which will aidyou in every issue which will arm you in every temptation, and comfortyou in every sorrow. Consult, then, that Volume whose precepts willnever fail you. Consult it with a deep aspiration after the true andgood, and it shall illuminate your understanding with divine realities. 5. Open your soul, and it shall breathe into it a holy influence, andfill all its wants. Bind it close to your heart; it will be a shieldagainst all the assaults of evil. Read it in the lonely hour ofdesertion; it will be the best of companions. Open it when the voyage oflife is troubled'; it is a sure chart. Study it in poverty'; it willunhoard to you inexhaustible riches. Commune with it in sickness'; itcontains the medicine of the soul. Clasp it when dying'; IT IS THECHARTER OF IMMORTALITY. QUESTIONS. --1. What ought we not to forget? 2. How ought the world to beregarded? 3. How ought we to act and labor? 4. What ought we to consult? * * * * * LESSON LXIV. IN TREP' ID, brave; heroic. BE TO' KEN ED, showed; indicated. E LAS' TIC, springy; agile. AT' TI TUDE, posture; position. UN' DER GROWTH, shrubbery. CON FRONT', stand before. CA TAS' TRO PHE, disaster; calamity. DE TER' RED, hindered; prevented. HUR' RI CANE, violent tempest. BUF' FET ING, beating with the hands. ATH LET' IC, strong; powerful. MI RAC' U LOUS, wonderful. TRE MEN DOUS, terrible; frightful. DES' PE RATE, rash; furious. IN VOL' UN TA RY, spontaneous. CAT' A RACT, waterfall. RE SUS' CI TATE, revive; bring to life. CH AR' AC TER IZ ED, distinguished. THE INTREPID YOUTH. 1. It was a calm, sunny day in the year 1750; the scene, a piece offorest land in the north of Virginia, near a noble stream of water. Implements of surveying were lying about, and several men recliningunder the trees, betokened, by their dress and appearance, that theycomposed a party engaged in laying out the wild lands of the country. 2. These persons had apparently just finished their dinner. Apart fromthe group, walked a young man of a tall and compact frame, and movedwith the elastic tread of one accustomed to constant exercise in theopen air. His countenance wore a look of decision and manliness notusually found in one so young, for he was apparently little overeighteen years of age. His hat had been cast off, as if for comfort, andhe had paused, with one foot advanced, in a graceful and naturalattitude. 3. Suddenly there was a shriek, then another, and several in rapidsuccession. The voice was that of a woman, and seemed to proceed fromthe other side of a dense thicket. At the first scream, the youth turnedhis head in the direction of the sound; but when it was repeated, hepushed aside the undergrowth which separated him from it, and, quickening his footsteps, as the cries succeeded each other in alarmingrapidity, he soon dashed into an open space on the banks of the stream, where stood a rude log-cabin. 4. As the young man broke from the undergrowth, he saw his companionscrowded together on the banks of the river, while in the midst stood thewoman, from whom proceeded the shrieks, held back by two of the men, butstruggling vigorously for freedom. It was but the work of a moment forthe young man to make his way through the crowd and confront the female. The instant her eye fell on him, she exclaimed, "Oh! sir, you will dosomething for me. Make them release me, --for the love of God! _Myboy, --my poor boy is drowning, and they will not let me go!"_ "It wouldbe madness; she will jump into the river, " said one, "and the rapidswould dash her to pieces in a moment!" 5. The youth had scarcely waited for these words, for he recollected thechild, a bold little boy of four years old, whose beautiful blue eyesand flaxen ringlets made him a favorite with all who knew him. He hadbeen accustomed to play in the little inclosure before the cabin, butthe gate having been left open, he had stolen incautiously out, reachedthe edge of the bank, and was in the act of looking over, when hismother saw him. 6. The shriek she uttered only hastened the catastrophe she feared; forthe child, frightened at the cry of its mother, lost its balance, andfell into the stream, which here went foaming and roaring along amidinnumerable rocks, constituting the most dangerous rapids known in thatsection of the country. Scream now followed scream in rapid succession, as the agonized mother rushed to the bank. 7. The party we left reclining in the shade within a few steps of theaccident, were immediately on the spot. Fortunate it was that they wereso near, else the mother would have jumped in after her child, and bothbeen lost. Several of the men approached the brink, and were on thepoint of springing in after the child, when the sight of the sharp rockscrowding the channel, the rush and whirl of the waters, and the want ofany knowledge where to look for the boy, deterred them, and they gave upthe enterprise. 8. Not so with the noble youth. His first work was to throw off hiscoat; next to spring to the edge of the bank. Here he stood for amoment, running his eyes rapidly over the scene below, taking with aglance the different currents and the most dangerous of the rocks, inorder to shape his course when in the stream. He had scarcely formed hisconclusion, when he saw in the water a white object, which he knew to bethe boy's dress, and he plunged into the wild and roaring rapids. 9. _"Thank God, he will save my child, "_ cried the mother; _"there heis!--oh! my boy, my darling boy, how could I leave you!"_ Every one hadrushed to the brink of the precipice, and was now following with eagereyes the progress of the youth, as the current bore him onward, like afeather in the embrace of the hurricane. Now it seemed as if he would bedashed against a jutting rock, over which the water flew in foam, and awhirlpool would drag him in, from whose grasp escape would appearimpossible. 10. At times, the current bore him under, and he would be lost to sight;then, just as the spectators gave him up, he would appear, though farfrom where he vanished, still buffeting amid the vortex. Oh, how thatmother's straining eyes followed him in his perilous career! how herheart sunk when he went under, --and with what a gush of joy when she sawhim emerge again from the waters, and, flinging the waves aside with hisathletic arms, struggle on in pursuit of her boy! 11. But it seemed as if his generous efforts were not to avail; for, though the current was bearing off the boy before his eyes, scarcely tenfeet distant, he could not, despite his gigantic efforts, overtake thedrowning child. On flew the youth and child; and it was miraculous howeach escaped being dashed in pieces against the rocks. Twice the boywent out of sight, and a suppressed shriek escaped the mother's lips;but twice he reappeared, and then, with hands wrung wildly together, andbreathless anxiety, she followed his progress, as his unresisting formwas hurried with the onward current. 12. The youth now appeared to redouble his exertions, for they wereapproaching the most dangerous part of the river, where the rapids, contracting between the narrow shores, shot almost perpendicularly downa declivity of fifteen feet. The rush of the waters at this spot wastremendous, and no one ventured to approach its vicinity, even in acanoe, lest he should be dashed in pieces. What, then, would be theyouth's fate, unless he soon overtook the child? He seemed fullysensible of the increasing peril, and now urged his way through thefoaming current with a desperate strength. 13. Three times he was on the point of grasping the child, when thewaters whirled the prize from him. The third effort was made just asthey were entering within the influence of the current above the fall;and when it failed, the mother's heart sunk within her, and she groaned, fully expecting the youth to give up his task. But no; he only pressedforward the more eagerly; and, as they breathlessly watched amid theboiling waters, they saw the form of the brave youth following closeafter that of the boy. 14. And now, like an arrow from the bow, pursuer and pursued shot to thebrink of the precipice. An instant they hung there, distinctly visibleamid the foaming waters. Every brain grew dizzy at the sight. But ashout of involuntary exultation burst from the spectators, when they sawthe boy held aloft by the right arm of the youth, --a shout that wassuddenly checked with horror, when they both vanished into the abyssbelow! 15. A moment elapsed before a word was spoken, or a breath drawn. Themother ran forward, and then stood gazing with fixed eyes at the foot ofthe cataract, as if her all depended upon what the next moment shouldreveal. Suddenly she gave the glad cry, (_f_. ) "_There they are! See!they are safe!_--Great God, I thank thee!" And, sure enough, there wasthe youth still unharmed, and still buffeting the waters. He had justemerged from the boiling vortex below the cataract. With one hand heheld aloft the child, and with the other he was making for the shore. 16. They ran, they shouted, they scarcely knew what they did, until theyreached his side, just as he was struggling to the bank. They drew himout almost exhausted. The boy was senseless; but his mother declaredthat he still lived, as she pressed him frantically to her bosom. Theyouth could scarcely stand, so faint was he from his exertions. 17. Who can describe the scene that followed, --the mother's calmnesswhile she strove to resuscitate her boy, and her wild gratitude to hispreserver, when the child was out of danger, and sweetly sleeping in herarms? Our pen shrinks at the task. But her words, pronounced then, wereremembered afterwards by more than one who heard them. 18. "_God will reward you_, " said she, "as _I_ can not. He will do greatthings for you in return for this day's work, and the blessings ofthousands besides mine will attend you. " And so it was; for, to the_hero_ of that hour, were subsequently confided the destinies of amighty nation. But, throughout his long career, what tended to make himmore honored and respected beyond all men, was the _self-sacrificingspirit_, which, in the rescue of that mother's child, as in the moreaugust events of his life, characterized OUR BELOVED WASHINGTON. QUESTIONS. --1. Describe the scene where this accident took place. 2. What did the woman say to the young man? 3. Why would not the menrelease the woman? 4. What did the young man do? 5. Did he finallysucceed in saving the child? 6. What did the mother say to him? 7. Whodid this youth prove to be? * * * * * LESSON LXV. RAB' BI, teacher or doctor. HEA' THEN, pagan; gentile. BOUND' A RIES, limits. WAN' DER ED, strayed. SUB MIS' SIVE, resigned; humble. PIL' GRIM, wanderer. RE PEL' LED, drove off. IN HOS' PI TA BLE, unkind to strangers. MAN' TLE, garment, cloak. CON SOL' ING, comforting. RE POS' ING, lying down; resting. CA LAM' I TY, misfortune. POUN' CED, fell or jumped suddenly. IM PLOR' ING, begging; entreating. DE SPOIL' ED, robbed. CHURL' ISH, surly; rude. THE FOUR MISFORTUNES. JOHN G. SANE. 1. A pious Rabbi, forced by heathen hate, To quit the boundaries of his native land, Wandered abroad, submissive to his fate, Through pathless woods and wastes of burning sand. 2. A patient ass, to bear him in his flight, A dog, to guard him from the robber's stealth, A lamp, by which to read the law at night, -- Was all the pilgrim's store of worldly wealth. 3. At set of sun he reached a little town, And asked for shelter and a crumb of food; But every face repelled him with a frown, And so he sought a lodging in the wood. 4. "'Tis very hard, " the weary traveler said, "And most inhospitable, I protest, To send me fasting to this forest bed; But God is good, and means it for the best!" 5. He lit his lamp to read the sacred law, Before he spread his mantle for the night; But the wind rising with a sudden flaw, He read no more, --the gust put out the light. 6. "'Tis strange, " he said, "'tis very strange, indeed, That ere I lay me down to take my rest, A chapter of the law I may not read, -- But God is good, and all is for the best!" 7. With these consoling words the Rabbi tries To sleep, --his head reposing on a log, -- But, ere he fairly shut his drowsy eyes, A wolf came up and killed his faithful dog. 8. "What new calamity is this?" he cried; "My honest dog--a friend who stood the test When others failed--lies murdered at my side! Well, --God is good, and means it for the best. " 9. Scarce had the Rabbi spoken, when, alas!-- As if, at once, to crown his wretched lot, A hungry lion pounced upon the ass, And killed the faithful donkey on the spot. 10. "Alas!--alas!" the weeping Rabbi said, "Misfortune haunts me like a hateful guest; My dog is gone, and now my ass is dead, -- Well, God is good, and all is for the best!" 11. At dawn of day, imploring heavenly grace, Once more he sought the town, but all in vain; A band of robbers had despoiled the place, And all the churlish citizens were slain. 12. "Now God be praised!" the grateful Rabbi cried, "If I had tarried in the town to rest, I too, with these poor villagers had died, -- Sure, God is good, and all is for the best!" 13. "Had not the saucy wind put out my lamp, By which the sacred law I would have read, The light had shown the robbers to my camp, And here the villains would have left me dead. 14. "Had not my faithful animals been slain, Their noise, no doubt, had drawn the robbers near, And so their master, it is very plain, Instead of them, had fallen murdered here. 15. "Full well I see that this hath happened so To put my faith and patience to the test; Thanks to His name! for now I surely know That God is good, and all is for the best!" * * * * * LESSON LXVI. FU TU' RI TY, events to come. CON SULT', counsel with. PRE TEN' SIONS, claims; assumptions. FOR' TI TUDE, patience; endurance. MOD' EL, pattern; example. RES IG NA' TION, submissiveness. O VER WHELMS', overcomes. IN GRAT' I TUDE, unthankfulness. VAG' A BOND, vagrant; worthless. IM' PU DENCE, sauciness. DES' TI NY, fate; final lot. DE CEAS' ED, dead. DE PRIV' ED, robbed. IN CUR' RED, brought on; caused. CON SUL TA' TIONS, couselings. CAL CU LA' TIONS, reckonings. PRE TER NAT' U RAL, (PRETER, _beyond_;) beyond what is natural; miraculous. IN VOLV' ED, (IN, _in_; VOLVED, _rolled_;) rolled in; enveloped. IN TER RUPT', (INTER, _in, between_; RUPT, _to break_;) break in between; stop; hinder. [Headnote 1: JOB, a patriarch, celebrated for his patience, constancy, and piety. For note on DAVID, see page 138. ] NOTE. --The dash at the end of a remark denotes that the speaker isinterrupted by the one with whom he is conversing. MRS. CREDULOUS AND THE FORTUNE-TELLER. _Mrs. Credulous. _ Are you the fortune-teller, sir, that knows everything? _Fortune-Teller. _ I sometimes consult futurity, madam; but I make nopretensions to any supernatural knowledge. _Mrs. C. _ Ay, so _you_ say; but every body else says you know _everything_; and I have come all the way from Boston to consult you; for youmust know I have met with a dreadful loss. _F. T. _ We are liable to losses in this world, madam. _Mrs. C. _ Yes; and I have had my share of them, though I shall be onlyfifty, come Thanksgiving. _F. T. _ You must have learned to bear misfortunes with fortitude, bythis time. _Mrs. C. _ I don't know how that is, though my dear husband, rest hissoul, used to say, "Molly, you are as patient as Job, [Headnote 1] thoughyou never had any children to lose, as he had. " _F. T. _ Job was a model of patience, madam, and few could lose their allwith so much resignation. _Mrs. C. _ Ah, sir', that is too true'; for even the small loss _I_ havesuffered, overwhelms me! _F. T. _ The loss of property, madam, comes home to the bosom of the bestof us. _Mrs. C. _ Yes, sir; and when the thing lost can not be replaced, it isdoubly distressing. When my poor, good man, on our wedding day, gave methe ring, "Keep it, Molly, " said he, "till you die, for my sake. " Andnow, that I should have lost it, after keeping it thirty years, andlocking it up so carefully all the time, as I did-- _F. T. _ We can not be too careful in this world, madam; our best friendsoften deceive us. _Mrs. C. _ True, sir, true, --but who would have thought that the child Itook, as it were, out of the street, and brought up as my own, couldhave been guilty of such ingratitude? She never would have touched whatwas not her own, if her vagabond lover had not put her up to it. _F. T. _ Ah, madam, ingratitude is the basest of all crimes! _Mrs. C. _ Yes; but to think that the impudent creature should deny shetook it, when I saw it in the possession of that wretch myself. _F. T. _ Impudence, madam, usually accompanies crime. But my time isprecious, and the star that rules your destiny will set, and your fatebe involved in darkness, unless I proceed to business immediately. Thestar informs me, madam, that you are a widow. _Mrs. C. _ La! sir, were you acquainted with my deceased husband? _F. T. _ No, madam; we do not receive our knowledge by such means. Thyname is Mary, and thy dwelling-place is Boston. _Mrs. C. _ Some spirit must have told you this, for certain. _F. T. _ This is not all, madam. You were married at the age of twentyyears, and were the sole heir of your deceased husband. _Mrs. C. _ I perceive, sir, you know _every_ thing. _F. T. _ Madam, I can not help knowing what I _do_ know; I must thereforeinform you that your adopted daughter, in the dead of night-- _Mrs. C. _ No, sir; it was in the day-time. _F. T. _ Do not interrupt me, madam. In the dead of night, your adopteddaughter planned the robbery which deprived you of your wedding-ring. _Mrs. C. _ No earthly being could have told you this, for I never let myright hand know that I possessed it, lest some evil should happen to it. _F. T. _ Hear me, madam; you have come all this distance to consult thefates, and find your ring. _Mrs. C. _ You have guessed my intention exactly, sir. _F. T. _ Guessed'! madam'. I _know_ this is your object; and I know, moreover, that your ungrateful daughter has incurred your displeasure, by receiving the addresses of a worthless man. _Mrs. C. _ Every word is gospel truth. _F. T. _ This man has persuaded your daughter-- _Mrs. C. _ I knew he did, I told her so. But good sir, can you tell mewho has the ring? _F. T. _ This young man has it. _Mrs. C. _ But he denies it. _F. T. _ No matter, madam, he has it. _Mrs. C. _ But how shall I obtain it again? _F. T. _ The law points out the way, madam, --it is _my_ business to pointout the rogue, --you must catch him. _Mrs. C. _ You are right, sir, --and if there is law to be had, I willspend every cent I own, but I will have it. I knew he was the robber, and I thank you for the information. [_Going_. ] _F. T. _ But thanks, madam, will not pay for all my nightly vigils, consultations, and calculations. _Mrs. C. _ Oh, right, sir! I forgot to pay you. What am I indebted toyou? _F. T. _ Only five dollars, madam. _Mrs. C. _ [_Handing him the money_. ] There it is, sir. I would have paidtwenty rather than not have found the ring. _F. T. _ I never take but five, madam. Farewell, madam, your friend is atthe door with your chaise. [_He leaves the room_. ] [_Enter, Friend_. ] _Friend_. Well, Mary, what does the fortune-teller say? _Mrs. C. _ Oh, he told me I was a widow, and lived in Boston, and had anadopted daughter, --and---- _Friend. _ But you knew all this before, did you not? _Mrs. C. _ Yes; but how should _he_ know it? He told me, too, that I hadlost a ring, -- _Friend. _ Did he tell you where to find it? _Mrs. C. _ Oh yes! he says that fellow has it, and I must go to law andget it, if he will not give it up. What do you think of that? _Friend. _ It is precisely what any fool could have told you. But howmuch did you pay for this precious information? _Mrs. C. _ Only five dollars. _Friend. _ How much was the ring worth? _Mrs. C. _ Why, two dollars, at least. _Friend. _ Then you have paid ten dollars for a chaise to bring you here, five dollars for the information that you had already, and all this togain possession of a ring not worth one quarter of the expense! _Mrs. C. _ Oh, the rascal! how he has cheated me! I will go to theworld's end but I will be revenged. _Friend. _ You had better go home, and say nothing about it; for everyeffort to recover your money, will only expose your folly. QUESTIONS. --1. What had Mrs. Credulous said, by which the fortune-tellerknew all the circumstances relative to the loss of her ring? 2. How wasshe told she must get her ring? 3. What did she pay the fortune-teller?4. How much for the chaise? 5. What was her ring worth? 6. Was she abright dame? * * * * * LESSON LXVII. UN FAL' TER ING, steady. CON FID' ING LY, trustingly. SOOTH' ING LY, tenderly, calmly. AL LUR'ING, seductive; flattering. AP PRO' PRI ATE, proper; peculiar. SUB MIS' SION, resignation. IN' VA LID, sick or infirm person. CON TENT' MENT, satifaction. MEA' GER, scanty. CON' FI DENCE, faith; reliance. AS SUAG' ED, relieved; mitigated. FER' VEN CY, heat; ardent feeling. RA DI A TION luster. FRU I' TION, realization; enjoyment. FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY. --AN ALLEGORY. [Footnote: AL' LE GO RY is a word of Greek origin. It is made up of twoparts; ALL, _other_; and EGORY, _discourse_; the literal meaning of thecompound being, _discourse_ about _other_ things; that is, things otherthan those expressed by the words, literally interpreted. Allegory is, therefore, the general name for that class of compositions, as _Fables_, _Apologues_, _Parables_, and _Myth_, in which there is a _double_signification, one _literal_ and the other _figurative_; the literalbeing designed merely to give a more clear and impressive view of thatwhich is figurative. ] 1. Many years ago, three beautiful sisters came into our world tolighten the burdens of earth's toiling pilgrims, and aid them inpreparation for a higher state of existence. Alike commissioned by theGreat Father, they were sent on errands of mercy, and were not to turnaway from scenes of darkness, sorrow, and suffering. 2. FAITH had a firm, unfaltering step; HOPE, a beaming eye, ever turnedto the future; and LOVE, a pitying glance, and a helping hand. Theyjourneyed confidingly together; and when they found a stricken being indanger of perishing by the wayside, FAITH soothingly whispered, "MyFather doeth all things well;" HOPE pointed to the cooling shade just inadvance; and LOVE assisted him to rise, and aided his feeble steps. 3. Groups of fair children played near the path in which they weretraveling. Some of these did not understand the tones of FAITH; but theyall listened eagerly to the alluring strains of HOPE, who paintedbrighter scenes than those they were enjoying, and flowers more fragrantthan any they yet had gathered. LOVE delighted to linger with theyouthful band, lessening their trials, and increasing their pleasures. 4. Her gentle touch arrested the little hand that was lifted against aplaymate, and her soothing voice calmed the angry passions which wereswelling in the bosom. When a child stumbled in the way, she tenderlyraised it up again, or when a thorn pierced the unwary finger, shekindly removed it, and bound up the bleeding wound. 5. While the sisters were busy in their appropriate mission, apale-cheeked lad mingled with the group of merry children, though tooweak to share their sports. FAITH stole to his side, and whispered ofthe great Parent above, who afflicts in wisdom, and chastens in love. His eye brightened while she spoke, and he looked upward with that trustand submission which he had never before experienced. 6. Then HOPE came, with visions of returning health, when his framewould be strong and his heart buoyant. But when HOPE and FAITH weregone, again his head drooped, and the tear started. Then LOVE sat downby the invalid, twining a garland of summer blossoms for his pale brow, and singing sweet melodies which charmed his listening ear. The pain wasall gone now; smiles wreathed his pallid lips, and the sick boy laughedas merrily as his more robust companions. 7. The sisters, in their journeyings, entered the abode of poverty. Itwas a humble dwelling, and yet it looked cheerful, yea, even inviting, when the three graced it with their presence. FAITH shed a spirit ofcalm contentment and heavenly trust in those lowly walls; HOPE whisperedof the better mansions prepared for the followers of the Lamb; and LOVE, not less exalted than her sisters, threw a charm over the meager fareand scanty attire of the inmates. FAITH taught them to offer the dailyprayer in trusting confidence; HOPE pointed beyond this world to joyswhich eye hath not seen, nor ear heard; while LOVE lessened each burden, and increased each simple pleasure. FAITH, HOPE, and CHARITY! ye, indeed, can make a paradise of the humblest home! 8. There was a darkened chamber, with a wan form tossing restlessly uponthe couch. Wealth was there; but it could not allay pain, or prolonglife. FAITH, noiseless as a spirit form, glided to the sick one's side. "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him, " was her language, as shepointed upward. HOPE fain would have whispered of length of days, butshe knew this could not be; so she spoke of life eternal, where there isno more pain. Then LOVE smoothed the pillow, and bathed the feveredbrow, pausing not in her tender ministries through the night-watches. When morning dawned, the spirit of the sick man passed away, though notuntil FAITH, and HOPE, and LOVE had assuaged the anguish of the partingpang. 9. Weeping mourners gathered around the dead. There were tears, --for"tears well befit earth's partings;" there was sorrow, --for whatbitterness is like unto that of the bereaved, when the grave opens toinfold the heart's best treasure? Yet FAITH, and HOPE, and LOVE werethere, assuaging those tears, and mitigating that sorrow. FAITH, evenwhile her cheeks were wet, exclaimed, "The Lord gave, and the Lord hathtaken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. " 10. HOPE'S language was, "Not lost, but gone before;" and her eye, having lost none of its brightness, saw with prophetic vision a reunionyet to come. LOVE tenderly wiped away each gathering tear, and gavedeeper fervency to the trusting confidence of FAITH, and the inspiringstrains of HOPE. And when the sleeper was committed to the dust, thesegentle sisters lingered in the lonely house, and by the darkened hearth. 11. Such are FAITH, HOPE, and CHARITY, --given by God to lighten humansorrow, and bless the creatures He has made. They have each a mission tofulfill, --different, it is true, and yet they move in harmony. FAITHenables us to submit trustingly to daily trials, viewing a kind Father'shand in each passing event. HOPE, when the sky is dark, and the paththorny, points not only to fairer scenes below, but to that brighterworld where there is no night and no sorrow. 12. LOVE lightens every burden, and reflects upon earth a faintradiation of heavenly blessedness, --for the Scriptures assure us that"God is love: and every one that loveth is born of God. " The time willcome when, the purposes of the wise Creator being accomplished, Faithand Hope will cease. Faith will be lost in sight, Hope in fruition; butLove will remain, binding the spirits of the redeemed in blissfulcommunion, and uniting them to God the Father and Christ the ElderBrother. 13. Faith, Hope, and Charity! blessed spirits! May they be inmates ofevery heart! May they assist each of us in the peculiar trials whichnone can know but ourselves! They will come to us if we seek theirpresence; but they must be carefully nurtured. Let us cherish them inour bosoms, and they will bless us constantly in our pilgrimage below, and conduct us to the presence of our God. * * * * * LESSON LXVIII. TRANSPORT' ED, highly delighted. THREAT' EN ING, impending. COR' O NAL, crown; chaplet. MYR' I AD, innumerable. LUS' CIOUS, delicious. LUS TY, strong; vigorous. WAR' BLING, singing; caroling. CHURL, sour, surly man. RE FRESH', cool; make fresh. LAN' GUID, dull; sluggish. DROUTH' Y, dry; arid. SUS TAIN', uphold; support. UN GRUDG'ING, free-hearted; liberal. NIG GARD, miser; stingy person. "NOT TO MYSELF ALONE. " S. W. PARTRIDGE. 1. "_Not to myself alone, _" The little opening flower transported cries. "Not to myself alone I bud and bloom; With fragrant breath the breezes I perfume, And gladden all things with my rainbow dyes. The bee comes sipping, every eventide, His dainty fill; The butterfly within my cup doth hide From threatening ill. " 2. "_Not to myself alone, _" The circling star with honest pride doth boast, "Not to myself alone I rise and set; I write upon night's coronal of jet His power and skill who formed our myriad host; A friendly beacon at heaven's open gate, I gem the sky. That man might ne'er forget, in every fate, His home on high. " 3. "_Not to myself alone_, " The heavy-laden bee doth murmuring hum, "Not to myself alone, from flower to flower, I rove the wood, the garden, and the bower, And to the hive at evening weary come; For man, for man, the luscious food I pile With busy care, Content if he repay my ceaseless toil With scanty share. " 4. "_Not to myself alone_, " The soaring bird with lusty pinion sings, "Not to myself alone I raise my song; I cheer the drooping with my warbling tongue, And bear the mourner on my viewless wings; I bid the hymnless churl my anthem learn, And God adore; I call the worldling from his dross to turn, And sing and scar. " 5. _"Not to myself alone, "_ The streamlet whispers on its pebbly way, "Not to myself alone I sparkling glide; I scatter health and life on every side, And strew the fields with herb and floweret gay. I sing unto the common, bleak and bare, My gladsome tune; I sweeten and refresh the languid air In droughty June. " 6. _"Not to myself alone:"_-- O man, forget not thou, --earth's honored priest, Its tongue, its soul, its life, its pulse, its heart, -- In earth's great chorus to sustain _thy_ part! Chiefest of guests at Love's ungrudging feast, Play not the niggard; spurn thy native clod, And _self_ disown; Live to thy neighbor; live unto thy God; _Not to thyself alone!_ QUESTIONS. --1. What things are mentioned, that contribute to our comfortand happiness? 2. How does the suffix _less, _ affect the meaning of thewords _cease, view, hymn, _ &c. ? 3. What is the meaning of the suffixes_let_ and _et, _ in the words _streamlet_ and _floweret?_ See SANDERS &McELLIGOTT'S ANALYSIS, page 140, Ex. 185 and 187. * * * * * LESSON LXIX. NURS'ING, nourishing; cherishing. AB HOR', detest; loathe. RE LI' ED, depended. FRA TER' NAL, brotherly. SU PER' NAL, heavenly. COM BINE', unite; join together. RE HEARS' AL, recital; repetition. BIG' OT RY, blind zeal; prejudice. SHEATHE, put in a sheath. U NI VERS AL, general. CUS TOM, practice; usage. TAL' ENT, natural ability. AF FECT'ING, making false show. IS' O LATE, separate; detach. THE WORLD WOULD BE THE BETTER FOR IT. W. H. COBB. 1. If men cared less for wealth and fame, And less for battle-fields and glory, -- If writ in human hearts a name Seemed better than in song and story, -- If men instead of nursing pride, Would learn to hate it and abhor it, -- If more relied On _love_ to guide, -- _The world would be the better for it. _ 2. If men dealt less in stocks and lands, And more in bonds and deeds fraternal, -- If Love's work had more willing hands To link this world to the supernal, -- If men stored up Love's oil and wine, And on bruised human hearts would pour it, -- If _"yours"_ and _"mine"_ Would once combine, -- _The world would be the letter for it. _ 3. If more would _act_ the play of Life, And fewer spoil it in rehearsal, -- If Bigotry would sheathe his knife Till Good became more universal, -- If Custom, gray with ages grown, Had fewer blind men to adore it, -- If talent shone In Truth alone, -- _The world would be the better for it. _ 4. If men were wise in little things, Affecting less in all their dealings, -- If hearts had fewer rusted strings To isolate their kindly feelings, -- If men, when Wrong beats down the Right, Would strike together and restore it, -- If Right made Might In every fight, -- _The world would be the letter for it. _ * * * * * LESSON LXX. In reading these antithetic sentences, an excellent effect may beproduced by dividing the class equally into two parts, and letting onepart read, in concert, the line marked _1st Voice_, and the other part, the line marked _2d Voice;_ or, one pupil may read one line, and thenext pupil the other, alternately. SELECT PROVERBS OF SOLOMON. _1st Voice_. A wise son maketh a glad father; _2d Voice_, but a foolish son is the heaviness of his mother. _1 V_. Treasures of wickedness profit nothing; _2 V_. But righteousness delivereth from death. _1 V_. He becometh poor, that dealeth with a slack hand; _2 V_. But the hand of the diligent maketh rich. _1 V_. Blessings are upon the head of the just; _2 V_. But violence covereth the mouth of the wicked. _1 V_. The memory of the just is blessed; _2 V_. But the name of the wicked shall rot. _1 V_. The wise in heart will receive commandment; _2 V_. But a prating fool shall fall. _1 V. _ He that walketh uprightly, walketh surely; _2 V. _ but he that perverteth his ways, shall be known. _1 V. _ Wise men lay up knowledge; _2 V. _ but the mouth of the wicked is near destruction. _1 V. _ He is in the way of life, that keepeth instruction; _2 V. _ but he that refuseth reproof, erreth. _1 V. _ It is as sport to a fool to do mischief; _2 V. _ but a man of understanding hath wisdom. _1 V. _ The fear of the Lord prolongeth days; _2 V. _ but the years of the wicked shall be shortened. _1 V. _ The hope of the righteous shall be gladness; _2 V. _ but the expectation of the wicked shall perish. _1 V. _ The righteous shall never be removed; _2 V. _ but the wicked shall not inhabit the earth. _1 V. _ The mouth of the just bringeth forth wisdom; _2 V. _ but the froward tongue shall be cut out. _1 V. _ A false balance is an abomination to the Lord; _2 V. _ but a just weight is his delight. _1 V. _ Riches profit not in the day of wrath; _2 V. _ but righteousness delivereth from death. _1 V. _ The righteousness of the perfect shall direct his way; _2 V. _ but the wicked shall fall by his own wickedness. _1 V. _ By the blessing of the upright the city is exalted; _2 V. _ but it is overthrown by the mouth of the wicked. _1 V. _ Where no counsel is, the people fall, _2 V. _ but in the multitude of counselors there is safety. _1 V. _ He that diligently seeketh good, procureth favor; _2 V. _ but he that seeketh mischief, it shall come unto him. _1 V. _ The righteous man regardeth the life of his beast; _2 V. _ but the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel. _1 V_. The lip of truth shall be established forever; _2 V_. But a lying tongue is but for a moment. _1 V_. Lying lips are abomination to the Lord; _2 V_. But they that deal truly are His delight. _1 V_. The hand of the diligent shall bear rule; _2 V_. But the slothful shall be under tribute. _1 V_. A wise son heareth his father's instruction; _2 V_. But a scorner heareth not rebuke. _1 V_. He that keepeth his mouth, keepeth his life; _2 V_. But he that openeth wide his lips, shall have destruction. _1 V_. A scorner seeketh wisdom, and findeth it not; _2 V_. But knowledge is easy unto him that understandeth. _1 V_. There is a way which seemeth right unto a man; _2 V_. But the end thereof are the ways of death. _1 V_. A wise man feareth, and departeth from evil; _2 V_. But the fool rageth, and is confident. _1 V_. The poor is hated even of his neighbor; _2 V_. But the rich hath many friends. _1 V_. He that oppresseth the poor, reproacheth his Maker; _2 V_. But he that honoreth Him, hath mercy on the poor. _1 V_. He that is slow to wrath, is of great understanding; _2 V_. But he that is hasty in spirit, exalteth folly. _1 V_. A soft answer turneth away wrath; _2 V_. But grievous words stir up anger. _1 V_. He that walketh with wise men, shall be wise; _2 V_. But a companion of fools shall be destroyed. _1 V_. Counsel in the heart of man is like deep water; _2 V_. But a man of understanding will draw it out. _1 V_. The wicked is driven away in his wickedness; _2 V_. But the righteous hath hope in his death. * * * * * LESSON LXXI. IM PRES' SION, idea; notion. AT TRAC' TIONS, allurements. SA TI' E TY, excessive fullness. SAT' ED, glutted; satiated. PAM' PER ED, over-fed. SUC' CU LENT, full of sap; juicy. UM BRA' GEOUS, shady. GOR' GEOUS, showy; brilliant. DREAR' I NESS, gloominess. REG' IS TER, record; note down. SUG GEST' IVE, giving signs. DEC LA RA' TION, announcement. EX TREM' I TIES, ends. DRA' PER Y, hangings; decorations. EN CHANT' MENT, charms; fascination. FRET' TED, furnished with frets, of ornamental raised work. DEC O RA' TIONS, adornments. [Headnote 1: AR' A BESQUES, is a word, denoting ornaments after theArabian manner, often intricate and fantastic, from the interminglingof foliage, fruits, &c. , with other objects real or imaginary. ] WINTER BEAUTY. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 1. It is the impression of many, that only in summer, including springand autumn, of course, is the _country_ desirable as a residence. Thecountry in summer, and the city for the winter. It is true, that thewinter gives attractions to the city, in endless meetings, lectures, concerts, and indoor amusements; but it is not true that the countryloses all interest when the leaves are shed and the grass is gone. Onthe contrary, to one who has learned how to use his senses and hissensibilities, there are attractions in the winter of a peculiar kind, and pleasures which can be reaped only then. 2. It appears to me, that winter comes in to relieve the year ofsatiety. The mind grows sated with greenness. After eight or nine monthsof luxuriant growths, the eye grows accustomed to vegetation. To besure, we never are less pleased with the wide prospect; with forms ofnoble trees, with towns and meadows, and with the whole aspect ofnature. But it is the pleasure of one pampered. We lose the keen edge ofhunger. The eye enjoys, without the relish of newness. We expect toenjoy. Every thing loses surprise. 3. Of course, the sky is blue, the grass succulent, the fields green, the trees umbrageous, the clouds silent and mysterious. They were soyesterday, they are so to-day, they will be so to-morrow, next week, next month. In short, the mind does not cease to feel the charm ofendless growths; but needs variety, change of diet, less of perpetualfeasting, and something of the blessings of a fast. _This_ winter gives. It says to us: You have had too much. You are luxurious and dainty. Youneed relief and change of diet. 4. The cold blue of the sky, the cold gray of rocks, the sober warmth ofbrowns and russets, take the place of more gorgeous colors. If, now, onewill accept this change in the tone of nature, after a time a new andrelishful pleasure arises. The month formed by the last fortnight ofNovember and the first two weeks of December, is, to me, the saddest ofthe year. It most nearly produces the sense of desolateness anddreariness of any portion of the year. 5. From the hour that the summer begins to shorten its days, andregister the increasing change along the horizon, over which the sunsets, farther and farther toward the south, we have a genial and gentlesadness. But sadness belongs to all very deep joys. It is almost asneedful to the perfectness of joy, as shadows in landscapes are to thecharm of the picture. Then, too, comes the fading out of flowers, --eachvariety in its turn, saying, "Farewell till next summer. " 6. Scarcely less suggestive of departing summer are the new-comers, thelate summer golden-rod, the asters, and all autumnal flowers. Longexperience teaches us that these are the latest blossoms that fall fromthe sun's lap, and next to them is snow. By association we already seewhite in the yellow and blue. Then, too, birds are thinking of otherthings. No more nests, no more young, no more songs, --exceptsignal-notes and rallying-calls; for they are evidently warned, and goabout their little remaining daily business, as persons who expect everyhour to depart to a distant land. 7. It is scarcely ever that we see the birds _go_. They are here to-day, and gone to-morrow. They disappear without observation. The fields areempty and silent. It seems as if the winds had blown them away with theleaves. The first sight of northern waterfowl, far up in the air, retreating from Labrador and the short, Arctic summer, is always to uslike the declaration: "Summer is gone; winter is behind us; it will soonbe upon you. " At last come the late days of November. All isgone, --frosts reap and glean more sharply every night. 8. A few weeks bring earnest winter. Then begin to dawn other delights. The bracing air, the clean snow-paths, the sled and sleigh, therevelation of forms that all summer were grass-hidden; thesharp-outlined hills lying clear upon the sky; the exquisite tracery oftrees, --especially of all such trees as that dendral child of God, theelm, whose branches are carried out into an endless complexity of finelines of spray, and which stands up in winter, showing in its wholeanatomy, that all its summer shade was founded upon the most substantialreality. 9. In winter, too, particularly in the latter periods of it, theextremities of shrubs and branches begin to take on ruddy hues, orpurplish browns, and the eye knows that these are the first faintblushes of coming summer. Now, too, we find how beautiful are the mossesin the woods; and under them we find solitary green leaves, that havelaughed all winter because they had outwitted the frost. 10. Wherever flowing springs gush from sheltered spots looking south, one will find many green edges, young grass, and some few tougherleaves. Now, too, in still days, the crow swings heavily through theair, cawing with a pleasing harshness. For dieting has performed itswork. Your appetite is eager. A little now pleases you more thanabundance did in August. Every tiny leaf is to you like a cedar ofLebanon. 11. All these things are unknown to dwellers in cities. It is nothing tothem that a robin appeared for the first time yesterday morning, or thata blue-bird sang over against the house. Some new _prima-donna_ [Footnote:The first female singer in an opera. ] exhausts their admiration. They areyet studying laces, and do not care for the of swamps, for the firstcatkins of the willow. They are still coveting the stores of preciousstones at the jewelers, and do not care for my ruby buds, and reddogwood, and scarlet winter berries, and ground pine, and partridge-berryleaves. 12. There is one sight of the country, at about this time of theyear--the first of March--that few have seen, or else they have passedit by as if it were not worthy of record. I mean the drapery of rocks ingorges, or along precipitous sides of hills or mountains. The seams ofrocks are the outlets of springs. The water, trickling through, isseized by the frost, and held fast in white enchantment. Every day addsto the length of the ice drapery; and, as the surface is overlaid by newissuings, it is furred and fretted with silver-white chasings, the mostexquisite. 13. Thus, one may find a succession, in a single gorge, of extraordinaryice-curtains, and pendent draperies, of varying lengths, of everyfantastic form, of colors varying by thickness, or by the tinge of earthor rock shining through them. In my boyhood, I used to wander alongthese fairy halls, imagining them to be now altars in long, whitedraperies; now, grand cathedral pillars of white marble; then, longtapestries chased in white, with arabesques [Headnote 1] and crinkledvines and leaves. 14. Sometimes they seemed like gigantic bridal decorations, or like therobes of beings vast and high, hung in their wardrobes while they slept. But, whatever fancy interpreted them, or whether they were looked uponwith two good, sober, literal eyes, they were, and still are, among themost delightful of winter exhibitions, to those who are wise enough tosearch out the hidden beauty of winter in the country. QUESTIONS. --1. What are some of the attractions of winter in the city?2. What are some of the delights of winter in the country? 3. What issaid of the drapery of rocks? 4. What did the writer imagine them to be, in boyhood? * * * * * LESSON LXXII. UN SUL' LIED, pure; clear. PHE NOM' E NON, appearance. TRANS PAR' EN CY, clearness. AS TON' ISH ING, amazing. RAM I FI CA' TION, branch, or branching out. IN DE SCRIB' A BLY, beyond description. MA JES' TIC, grand. OC CA' SION AL, occurring at times. IM PRESS'IVE, powerful; effective. IN TER SECT' ING, meeting and crossing. PEN' E TRA TING, piercing. E' THER, thin or refined air. CON GEAL' ED, frozen. BUR' NISH ING, brightening. EN GEN' DER ED, produced. EM' BLEM, symbol. CON TEM PLA' TION, meditation. EL E VA' TION, loftiness. FROSTED TREES. 1. "Ere yet the clouds let fall the treasured snow, Or winds begun their hazy skies to blow, At evening, a keen eastern breeze arose, And the descending rain unsullied froze. Soon as the silent shades of night withdrew, The ruddy morn disclosed at once to view The face of Nature in a rich disguise, And brightened every object to my eyes. For every shrub, and every blade of grass, And every pointed thorn, seemed wrought in glass. " 2. Since Sunday, [Feb. 1st, 1852, ] we have had presented to our view, the beautiful phenomenon of FROSTED TREES, the most astonishing andbrilliant that I ever remember to have noticed. The previous storm andmist had thickly covered every exposed object, --the loftiest trees, theminutest blade, hill and dale, with the icy garment. This transparencywas most perfect, defining every form and ramification into exact modelsof the entire body, branch, or limb. 3. Dwellings and barns were incrusted by the chilling vapor. It hungupon the manes of the cattle, and decorated, wherever seen, the humblegrass, which appeared bending, like threads of crystal. The small busheswere indescribably beautiful, and seemed as if chiseled out of thewhitest marble. As far as the eye could extend, over brooks, fields, andwoods, the same striking and singular sight was universal. 4. I could not remain contented in the house, and toward sunset, hastened away, where the view might be free and uninterrupted. Here, thescene, if possible, was more impressive and interesting. There wasscarcely a breath of air, and the general silence was only interruptedby the occasional flight of some winter bird, which, alighting on alimb, would shake down a thousand feathery showers, until he seemedfrightened at the unusual sound. The forest trees made a truly majesticappearance, with their naked, giant arms and mossy branches intersectingeach other, and fast bound by the frozen barriers. 5. I shall not attempt to describe the brilliancy of the undergrowth anddwarf trees, upon whose limbs hung a delicate frosting, like unwroughtsilver, nor the crimson glow of the holly-berries through theirtransparent and icy covering, --all, all was a dazzling and splendidwinter array, "That buries wide the works of man. " It brought to my mind some of the Eastern fairy tales, and their gardensornamented with shrubs and plants of sparkling crystals. 6. The exposed sides of the rocks and fences were completely iced over, not the smallest particle escaping the penetrating and congealed ether. It was truly astonishing to examine its thickness. On some twigs, notlarger than a wheat straw, the ice measured half an inch through. Onewould scarcely imagine what an immense weight of the frozen mass a treewill sustain, before it breaks under the unusual load. Many brancheswere bent so low that I could reach them with my hands; and, shaking offtheir frosted barks, they would instantly spring far above my reach. Every few minutes, I was startled by the rattling noise of these fallingicicles from some neighboring tree or grove. 7. Just when the sun went down, there was not a single cloud to be seenin the horizon, and his cold, bright, setting rays brought out, on everyhand, frozen gems, diamonds, rubies, and sapphires, in every possibleprismatic beauty, wherever his departing beams fell. Presently the moonbathed the whitened earth, and every congealed drop, in her soft light, burnishing, with dazzling icy brilliancy, trees, dwellings, and streams. I am an ardent lover of Nature and her scenery, and have often, delighted, gazed upon the Queen of Night; but _never_ did I behold sucha brilliant moonlight night as this. 8. Who could help bringing to mind the sublimities of Job and ofDavid, --"The hoary frost of heaven, who hath engendered it? The watersare hid, as with a stone, and the face of the deep is frozen. "--"By thebreath of the Mighty God, ice is produced, and the waters which werespread on all sides, are held in chains. " The Psalmist says, "He giveththe snow like wool, He scattereth the hoar-frost like ashes. Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. "--Well may poets look to the fallingsnow-flake for their images of purity and innocence, ere it receives thestain of earth. I know of no litter emblem. 9. Such a winter's night! _and the skies! the skies!_ So resplendent inbrightness are the hosts of heaven at this moment, that they should becontemplated by every lover and student of the works of God. Theirnumbers who can count, --their twinkling beauty who can describe, asonward they roll in the deep blue of midnight? In their contemplationare inspired "thoughts that wander through eternity, " with an elevationof feeling, as if we were separated from the toils and tumults of earth, and exalted into a higher state of being than that in which we toiledthrough the day! These heavens tell us of a WISDOM and POWER we can notsearch or estimate. There we seem to stand more immediately in thevailed presence of the Infinite Majesty, who "laid the foundations ofthe earth, when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of Godshouted for joy. " QUESTIONS. --1. Describe the appearance of frosted trees. 2. What issaid of the appearance of shrubs, bushes, &c. ? 3. What, of the weightsustained by a single tree? 4. What was the appearance at sunset?5. What passages of Scripture did the scene bring to mind? 6. Of whatis the snowflake an emblem? 7. What is said of the skies? * * * * * LESSON LXXIII. SPLEN' DOR, brightness; glory. E TER' NAL LY, everlastingly. WAY'-WEA RY, tired; fatigued. GAZE, eager look. EV' ER GREEN, always green. LONG' ED, earnestly desired. RE POSE, rest; quietude. RAN' SOM ED, redeemed. PAL' ACE, mansion; abode. UN CEAS' ING LY, constantly. THE MOUNTAINS OF LIFE. JAMES G. CLARK. 1. There's a land far away, 'mid the stars, we are told, Where they know not the sorrows of time, -- Where the pure waters wander through valleys of gold, And life is a treasure sublime; 'Tis the land of our God, 'tis the home of the soul, Where the ages of splendor eternally roll, -- Where the way-weary traveler reaches his goal, On the evergreen Mountains of Life. 2. Our gaze can not soar to that beautiful land, But our visions have told of its bliss; And our souls by the gale from its gardens are fanned, When we faint in the desert of this; And we sometimes have longed for its holy repose, When our spirits were torn with temptations and woes, And we've drank from the tide of the river that flows From the evergreen Mountains of Life. 3. Oh! the stars never tread the blue heavens at night, But we think where the ransomed have trod; And the day never smiles from his palace of light, But we feel the bright smile of our God. We are traveling homeward, through changes and gloom, To a kingdom where pleasures unceasingly bloom, And our guide is the glory that shines through the tomb, From the evergreen Mountains of Life. QUESTIONS. --1. What is said of that land far away? 2. How do we knowthere is such a land? 3. Of what do the stars remind us? * * * * * LESSON LXXIV. IM AG' IN A RY, not real. AN TIC' I PATE, take beforehand. PRE FER' RED, chosen. OC CUR' RED, happened. SUS TAIN', support; uphold. PER MIT', allow. IN VIS' I BLE, unseen. EN CHAIN', bind; fasten. FORE BOD' ING, dread of evil. IN VEN' TION, contrivance. CON FER' RED, bestowed. AP PRE HEN' SION, dread; fear. IMAGINARY EVILS. CHARLES SWAIN. 1. Let to-morrow take care of to-morrow; Leave things of the future to fate; What's the use to anticipate sorrow? Life's troubles come never too late. If to hope overmuch be an error, 'Tis one that the wise have preferred; And how often have hearts been in terror Of evils that never occurred. 2. Have faith, and thy faith shall sustain thee; Permit not suspicion and care With invisible bonds to enchain thee, But bear what God gives thee to bear. By His Spirit supported and gladdened, Be ne'er by forebodings deterred; But think how oft hearts have been saddened By fears of what never occurred! 3. Let to-morrow take care of to-morrow; Short and dark as our life may appear, We may make it still darker by sorrow, Still shorter by folly and fear; Half our troubles are half our invention, And often from blessings conferred, Have we shrunk in the wild apprehension Of evils that never occurred! QUESTIONS. --1. What is said of imaginary evils? 2. How may we besupported under trials? 3. What tends to shorten life? 4. Whence proceedhalf our troubles? 5. What rule for doubling the _r_ and _d_ in suchwords as _occurred_, _saddened_, &c. ? See SANDERS' NEW SPELLER, page168, Rule II. * * * * * LESSON LXXV. WASTE, desolate region. PRO CEED', come forth. CHASM, gap; opening. COILS, folds; convolutions. MAN I FEST, plain; evident. PRE SERV' ER, protector. AL LE' GI ANCE, duty; loyalty. RAY, make bright; adorn. EX PAND, swell; dilate. FA' THER LAND, native land. GUER DON, reward; recompense. PROF' FER, offer; tender. PIT' E OUS, mournful; sorrowful. IM PET' U OUS LY, furiously. AT TRACT', (AT, _to_; TRACT, _draw_;) draw to; allure. IN VEST', (IN, _to_; VEST, _clothe_;) clothe in or with; inclose; surround. PRO TEST, (PRO, _before_; TEST, _witness_;) witness before; openly declare. [Headnote 1: PY THON is the name of a large serpent, fabled to have beenslain by the god Apollo. ] SIR WALTER AND THE LION. A. WALCHNER. 1. Sir Walter of Thurn, over the Syrian waste, Rides away with a flowing rein; But he hears a groan that checks his haste, As if death were in the strain. He spurs his steed Whence the sounds proceed; And there, from a rocky chasm, arise Fierce cries of pain, that assail the skies; And his horse uprears In excess of fears, As the glance of a lion attracts his eyes. 2. Fierce struggling there in the monster folds Of a serpent that round him twines; Sir Walter a moment the scene beholds, Then to save the beast inclines. His good sword stout From its sheath leaps out, When down it falls on the Python's [Headnote 1] crest, And cleaves the coils that the lion invest; And the noble beast, From its thrall released, Shows grateful joy most manifest. 3. He shakes his mane, and bends his form, And licks his preserver's hand, As if he yields allegiance warm To his supreme command. Like the faithful hound To be constant found, And follow his steps for evermore; And thus he follows, on sea and shore, In the battle's tide, He stands by his side, Or with him rests when the strife is o'er. 4. In Palestine Sir Walter is known, -- Long years attest his fame; And many brave deeds he there hath done, That ray with glory his name; But his heart doth expand For the fatherland, And he fain its pleasant scenes would see, With his friendly lion for company; But with fearful breast, The sailors protest, As they glanced at the beast and his majesty. 5. Rich guerdon he proffers, and golden store; But though the prize were great, The sailors hurry away from the shore As if from the doom of fate. The poor beast moans In piteous tones, Then darts impetuously o'er the sands, -- Then looks to the ship, and mournfully stands; Then plunges into the gloomy wave, The perils of the depths to brave. Already he nears the flying bark, Already his roar of grief they hark; But his strength is spent, and the sea is strong, And he may not the fearful struggle prolong. His dying glances are fondly cast Along the track where the loved one passed; Then sinks to his grave Beneath the wave, And the night and the ocean behold him the last. QUESTIONS. --1. What did Sir Walter discover as he was riding over theSyrian waste? 2. What did he do? 3. What did the lion do, after beingreleased? 4. Did the sailors allow the lion to go on board the ship? 5. What did the lion then do? 6. What became of him? * * * * * LESSON LXXVI. VAL' IANT, strong; courageous, INC LI NA' TION, desire; tendency. RE PLEN' ISH ED, filled up. DIS SEV' ER, part; sunder. SHIV' ER, dash to pieces. EC STAT' IC, rapturous. CON CLU' SION, result. CON CEP' TION, thought; idea. DEF' ER ENCE, respect. PHYS I CAL, material. AR' RANT, mere; vile. TIME'-BAN DI ED, time-lost. DE VEL' OP ED, brought out. CON STEL LA' TIONS, clusters of stars. DE SIGN ED, planned. COM BIN' ED, united. UNINTERRUPTED, (UN, _not_; INTER, _in between_; RUPTED, _broken_;) not broken in between; unbroken. It is sometimes desirable to have each member of the class read a piececomplete in itself. To answer this end, the following collection ofbrief, though beautiful productions, have been brought together allunder one head. CHOICE EXTRACTS. I. WHAT REALLY BENEFITS US. It is not what we earn, but what we save, that makes us rich. It is notwhat we eat, but what we digest, that makes us strong. It is not what weread, but what we remember, that makes us learned. It is not what weintend, but what we do, that makes us useful. It is not a few faintwishes, but a life-long struggle, that makes us valiant. II. GOD'S LOVE. There's not a flower that decks the vale, There's not a beam that lights the mountain, There's not a shrub that scents the gale, There's not a wind that stirs the fountain, There's not a hue that paints the rose, There's not a leaf around us lying, But in its use or beauty shows God's love to us, and love undying! III. LIFE-WORK. To acquire a thorough knowledge of our own hearts and characters, torestrain every irregular inclination, to subdue every rebelliouspassion, to purify the motives of our conduct, to form ourselves to thattemperance which no pleasure can seduce, to that meekness which noprovocation can ruffle, to that patience which no affliction canoverwhelm, and that integrity which no interest can shake; _this is thetask which is assigned to us_, --a task which can not be performedwithout the utmost diligence and care. IV. HUMILITY. The brightest stars are burning suns; The deepest water stillest runs; The laden bee the lowest flies; The richest mine the deepest lies; The stalk that's most replenished, Doth bow the most its modest head. Thus, deep Humility we find The mark of every master-mind; The highest-gifted lowliest bends, And merit meekest condescends, And shuns the fame that fools adore, -- That puff that bids a feather soar. V. BENEFITS OF ADVERSITY. A smooth sea never made a skillful mariner. Neither do uninterruptedprosperity and success qualify man for usefulness or happiness. Thestorms of adversity, like the storms of the ocean, rouse the facultiesand excite the invention, prudence, skill, and fortitude of the voyager. VI. OUR MOUNTAIN HOMES. MRS. S. R. A. BARNES. Why turn we to our mountain homes With more than filial feeling? 'Tis _here_ that Freedom's altars rise, And Freedom's sons are kneeling! Why sigh we not for softer climes? Why cling to that which bore us? _'Tis here we tread on Freedom's soil, _ _With Freedom's sunshine o'er us!_ VII. MAKE A BEGINNING. If you do not begin, you will never come to the end. The first weedpulled up in the garden, the first seed set in the ground, the firstdollar put in the savings-bank, and the first mile traveled on ajourney, are all important things; they make a _beginning_, and therebygive a hope, a promise, a pledge, an assurance that you are in earnestin what you have undertaken. How many a poor, idle, erring, hesitatingoutcast is now creeping his way through the world, who might have heldup his head and prospered, if, instead of putting off his resolutions ofamendment and industry, he had only made a beginning! VIII. INFLUENCE. GEORGE W. BUNGAY. 1. Drop follows drop, and swells With rain the sweeping river; Word follows word, and tells A truth that lives forever. 2. Flake follows flake, like sprites Whose wings the winds dissever; Thought follows thought, and lights The realm of mind forever. 3. Beam follows beam to cheer, The cloud a bolt might shiver; Throb follows throb, and fear Gives place to joy forever. 4. The drop, the flake, the beam, Teach us a lesson ever; The word, the thought, the dream Impress the soul forever. IX. PLEASURE IN ACQUIRING KNOWLEDGE. CAROLINE F. ORNE. 1. Note the ecstatic joy of the student, who has labored long over aproblem or proposition, but finally comes to a logical conclusion; whohas struggled with the misty darkness of his own mind, for a clear viewof some difficult subject, until the clouds, one after another, havedispersed, and he beholds, with his mental vision, in bright andglorious light, the conception for which he labored. Think you he wouldexchange his joys for the pleasures of sense'? It is of a higher andmore ennobling character, and not to be bartered for paltry wealth. 2. What dignity and self-respect invest the man of thought! His verylooks bespeak of mind. He is approached with deference, as a being ofhigher order in the scale of intelligence, --as one who has a right tocommand and be obeyed. For what moves mind, but mind? A strongintellect, coming in contact with one of less energy, will as naturallymove it, as superior physical strength will overcome the weaker. X. WHAT IS FAME? MOTHERWELL. What is glory`? What is fame`? The echo of a long-lost name`; A breath`, an idle hour's brief talk`; The shadow of an arrant naught`; A flower that blossoms for a day`, Dying next morrow'; A stream that hurries on its way, Singing of sorrow'; A fortune that to lose were gain`; A word of praise, perchance of blame`; The wreck of a time-bandied name`-- _Ay` this is glory`! this is fame`!_ XI. CULTIVATED INTELLECT. Ah! well do we all know the worth of intelligence, the power ofknowledge, and the beauty and glory of wisdom. It is _educated manhood_that wakes up the sleeping soil, covers the earth with good, thatgathers in the golden harvest, that clothes the naked, that feeds thehungry. It is the _cultivated mind_ that applies the strength of the oxand the fleetness of the horse; that bridges the river, that turns touse the flying winds, that makes the lightning its swift messenger, thatmakes beautiful palaces of dull clay, that rouses the dead ore to activelife, that covers the sea with ships, and the land with mighty enginesof wealth. It is the _developed intellect_ that flies through the upperair, that mingles with the stars, that follows the moon in her course, that overtakes the constellations in their orbits, that weighs the sun, that measures the distance to the polar star. It is the _enlightenedsoul_ that worships God. XII. GOD'S WORKS ATTEST HIS GREATNESS. MRS. OPIE. 1. There's not a leaf within the bower; There's not a bird upon the tree; There's not a dew-drop on the flower, But bears the impress, Lord, of Thee. 2. Thy hand the varied leaf designed, And gave the bird its thrilling tone; Thy power the dewdrop's tints combined, Till like the diamond's blaze they shone. 3. Yes, dewdrops, leaves, and buds, and all The smallest, like the greatest things, -- The sea's vast space, the earth's wide ball, Alike proclaim Thee King of kings. 4. But man alone to bounteous Heaven, Thanksgiving's conscious strains can raise; To favored man alone 'tis given To join the angelic choir in praise! * * * * * LESSON LXXVII. MO NOT' O NOUS, dull; uniform. HAR POON', barbed spear. AG' I TA TED, disturbed. RE VER' BER ATES, rebounds; re-echoes. WRITHES, twists, or or turns in agony. CON TOR' TIONS, twistings; writhings. VE LOC' I TY, swiftness. IG NITES', takes fire. FRIC' TION, rubbing together. COILS, winds into a ring. PRO JECT' ED, thrown out or forward. VO CIF' ER A TED, shouted. IN FU' RI A TED, enraged. UN RE LENT' ING, unfeeling. CON VUL' SIONS, violent spasms. REN COUN' TER, fight; conflict. CAPTURE OF THE WHALE. 1. Let the reader suppose himself on the deck of a South-seaman, cruising in the North Pacific ocean. He may be musing over some pastevent, the ship may be sailing gently along over the smooth ocean, everything around solemnly still, with the sun pouring its intense rays withdazzling brightness. Suddenly the monotonous quietude is broken by ananimated voice from the masthead, exclaiming, _"There he spouts!"_ 2. The captain starts on deck in an instant, and inquires _"Whereaway?"_ but, perhaps, the next moment every one aloft and on deck, canperceive an enormous whale lying about a quarter of a mile from theship, on the surface of the sea, having just come up to breathe, --hislarge "hump" projecting three feet out of the water. At the end of everyten seconds, the spout is seen rushing from the fore part of hisenormous head, followed by the cry of every one on board, who join inthe chorus of _"There again!"_ keeping time with the duration of thespout. 3. But, while they have been looking, a few seconds have expired. Theyrush into the boats, which are directly lowered to receive them; and intwo minutes from the time of first observing the whale, three or fourboats are down, and are darting through the water with their utmostspeed toward their intended victim, perhaps accompanied with a song fromthe headsman, who urges the quick and powerful plying of the oar, withthe common whaling chant of "Away, my boys, away, my boys, 'tis time for us to go. " 4. But, while they are rushing along, the whale is breathing; they haveyet, perhaps, some distance to pull before they can get a chance ofstriking him with the harpoon. His "spoutings are nearly out, " he isabout to descend, or he hears the boats approaching. The few sailorsleft on board, and who are anxiously watching the whale and the gradualapproach of the boats, exclaim, _"Ah, he is going down!"_ Yet he spoutsagain, but slowly, the water is seen agitated around him; the spectatorson board with breathless anxiety think they perceive him rising inpreparation for his descent. _"He will be lost!"_ they exclaim; for theboats are not yet near enough to strike him, and the men are stillbending their oars in each boat with all their strength, to claim thehonor of the first blow with the harpoon. 5. The bow-boat has the advantage of being the nearest to the whale; theothers, for fear of disturbing the unconscious monster, are now orderedto drop astern. One more spout is seen slowly curling forth, --it is hislast; but the boat shoots rapidly alongside of the gigantic creature. _"Peak your oars!"_ exclaims the mate, and directly they flourish in theair; the glistening harpoon is seen above the head of the harpooner. Inan instant it is darted with unerring force and aim, and is burieddeeply in the side of the huge animal. It is "socket up;" that is, it isburied in his flesh up to the socket which admits the handle or pole ofthe harpoon. 6. A cheer from those in the boats, and from the seamen on board, reverberates along the still deep at the same moment. The sea, which amoment before was unruffled, now becomes lashed into foam by the immensestrength of the wounded whale, which, with its vast tail, strikes in alldirections at his enemies. Now his enormous head rises high into theair, then his flukes are seen lashing everywhere, his huge body writhesin violent contortions from the agony the harpoon has inflicted. Thewater all around him is a mass of foam, and the sounds of the blows fromhis tail on the surface of the sea, can be heard for miles! 7. _"Stern all!"_ cries the headsman; but the whale suddenly disappears;he has "sounded;" the line is running through the groove at the head ofthe boat, with lightning-like velocity; it smokes; it ignites from theheat produced by the friction; but the headsman, cool and collected, pours water upon it as it passes. But an oar is now held up in theirboat; it signifies that their line is rapidly running out; two hundredfathoms are nearly exhausted; up flies one of the other boats, and"bends on" another line, just in time to save that which was nearlylost. 8. But still the monster descends; he is seeking to rid himself of hisenemies by descending deeply into the dark and unknown depths of thevast ocean. Two more lines are exhausted, --he is _six hundred fathomsdeep! "Stand ready to bend on!"_ cries the mate to the fourth boat; (forsometimes they take the whole four lines away with them, --_eight hundredfathoms!!_) but, it is not required, he is rising. _"Haul in theslack!"_ observes the headsman, while the boat-steerer coils it againcarefully into the tubs as it is drawn up. 9. The whale is now seen approaching the surface; the gurgling andbubbling water which rises, proclaims that he is near; his nose startsfrom the sea; the rushing spout is projected high and suddenly, from hisagitation. The slack of the line is now coiled in the tubs, and those inthe fast boat, haul themselves gently toward the whale. The boat-steererplaces the headsman close to the fin of the trembling animal, whoimmediately buries his long lance in the vitals of the leviathan, while, at the same moment, those in one of the other boats, dart anotherharpoon into his opposite side. Then, _"Stern all!"_ is againvociferated, and the boats shoot rapidly away from the danger. 10. Mad with the agony which he endures from these fresh attacks, theinfuriated "sea monster" rolls over and over, and coils an amazinglength of line around him. He rears his enormous head, and, withwide-expanded jaws, snaps at every thing around him. He rushes at theboats with his head, --they are propelled before him with vast swiftness, and sometimes utterly destroyed. 11. He is lanced again, --and his pain appears more than he can bear. Hethrows himself, in his agony, completely out of his element; the boatsare violently jerked, by which one of the lines is snapped asunder; atthe same time the other boat is upset, and its crew are swimming fortheir lives. The whale is now free! he passes along the surface withremarkable swiftness, "going head out;" but the two boats that have notyet "fastened, " and are fresh and free, now give chase. 12. The whale becomes exhausted from the blood which flows from his deepand dangerous wounds, and the two hundred fathoms of line belonging tothe overturned boat, which he is dragging after him through the water, checks him in his course; his pursuers again overtake him, and anotherharpoon is darted and buried deeply in his flesh. 13. The fatal lance is, at length, given; the blood gushes from thenostrils of the unfortunate animal in a thick, black stream, whichstains the clear blue water of the ocean to a considerable distancearound the scene of the affray. The immense creature may now againendeavor to "sound, " to escape from his unrelenting pursuers; but he ispowerless. He soon rises to the surface, and passes slowly along untilthe death-pang seizes him, when his appearance is awful in the extreme. 14. Suffering from suffocation, or from the stoppage of some importantorgan, the whole strength of his enormous frame is set in motion, for afew seconds, when his convulsions throw him into a hundred differentcontortions of the most violent description, by which the sea is beateninto foam, and boats are sometimes crushed to atoms, with their crews. 15. But this violent action being soon over, the now unconscious animalpasses rapidly along, describing in his rapid course the segment of acircle; this is his "flurry, " which ends in his sudden dissolution. Themighty rencounter is finished. The gigantic animal rolls over on hisside, and floats an inanimate mass on the surface of the crystaldeep, --a victim to the tyranny and selfishness, as well as a wonderfulproof of the _great power of the mind of man_. QUESTIONS. --1. How are whales generally discovered? 2. Why do they cometo the surface of the water? 3. How far do they sometimes descend in theocean? 4. Describe the manner in which they are captured. * * * * * LESSON LXXVIII. A'ER O NAUT, one who sails in the air. RE DOUB LED, repeated. MAG NIF I CENT, grand; splendid. EL' E VA TED, raised; excited. GON' DO LA, small boat. BE GIRT', surrounded. RO TA RY, turning; revolving. IN TEN' SI TY, extreme degree. A' ER OS TAT, air-balloon. IN TER MI NA BLE, boundless. VA' RI E GA TED, diversified; varied. VERG' ING, tending; inclining. OB LIQUE' LY, slantingly. RES PI RA' TION, act of breathing. ZE' NITH, point in the heavens directly over head. MAN' DI BLES, jaws. EU ROC' LY DON, tempestuous wind. LEAVES FROM AN AERONAUT. WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK. 1. My hour had now come, and I entered the car. With a singular taste, the band struck up, at this moment, the melting air of "Sweet Home. " Italmost overcame me. A thousand associations of youth, friends, of allthat I must leave, rushed upon my mind. But I had no leisure forsentiment. A buzz ran through the assemblage; unnumbered hands wereclapping, unnumbered hearts beating high; and _I_ was the cause. Everyeye was upon me. There was pride in the thought. 2. "Let go!" was the word. The cheers redoubled; handkerchiefs wavedfrom many a fair hand; bright faces beamed from every window, and onevery side. One dash with my knife, and I rose aloft, a habitant of air. How magnificent was the sight which now burst upon me! How sublime weremy sensations! I waved the flag of my country; the cheers of themultitude from a thousand housetops, reached me on the breeze; and ataste of the rarer atmosphere elevated my spirits into ecstasy. 3. The city, with a brilliant sunshine striking the spires and domes, now unfolded to view a sight incomparably beautiful. My gondola wenteasily upward, cleaving the depths of heaven like a vital thing. Adiagram placed before you, on the table, could not permit you to tracemore definitely than I now could, the streets, the highways, basins, wharves, and squares of the town. The hum of the city arose to my ear, as from a vast bee-hive; and I seemed the monarch-bee, directing theswarm. 4. I heard the rattling of carriages, the hearty _yo-heavo-s!_ ofsailors from the docks that, begirt with spars, hemmed the city round. Iwas a spectator of all, yet aloof, and alone. Increasing stillnessattended my way; and, at last, the murmurs of earth came to my ear likethe vast vibrations of a bell. My car tilted and trembled, as I rose. Aswift wind sometimes gave the balloon a rotary motion, which made medeathly sick for a moment; but strong emotion conquered all my physicalailings. 5. My brain ached with the intensity of my rapture. Human sounds hadfainted from my ear. I was in the abyss of heaven, and _alone_ with myGod. I could tell my direction by the sun on my left; and, as his raysplayed on the aerostat, it seemed only a bright bubble, wavering in thesky, and I, a suspended mote, hung by chance to its train. Looking belowme, the distant Sound and Long Island appeared to the east; the bay layto the south, sprinkled with shipping; under me, the city, girded withbright rivers and sparry forests. 6. The free wind was on my cheek, and in my locks; afar, the oceanrolled its long, blue waves, checkered with masses of shadow, and gushesof ruby sunlight; to the north and west, the interminable land, variegated like a map, dotted with purple, and green, and silver, fadedto the eye. The atmosphere which I now breathed, seemed to dilate myheart at every breath. I uttered some audible expressions. My voice wasweaker than the faintest sound of a reed. There was no object near tomake it reverb or echo. 7. My barometer now denoted an immense hight; and, as I looked upwardand around, the concave above seemed like a mighty waste of purple air, verging to blackness. Below, it was lighter; but a long, lurid bar ofcloud stretched along the west, temporarily excluding the sun. Theshadows rushed afar into the void, and a solemn, Sabbath twilightreigned around. I was now startled by a fluttering in my gondola. It wasmy carrier-pigeon. I had forgotten him entirely. I attached a string tohis neck, with a label, announcing my hight, then nearly four miles, andthe state of the barometer. 8. As he sat on the side of the car, and turned his tender eyes upon mein mute supplication, every feather shivering with apprehension, I feltthat it was a guilty act to push him into the waste beneath. But it wasdone; he attempted to rise, but I out-sped him; he then fell obliquely, fluttering and moaning, till I lost him in the haze. My greatestaltitude had not yet been reached. I was now five miles from _terrafirma_. [Footnote: Solid earth. ] I began to breathe with difficulty. Theatmosphere was too rare for safe respiration. 9. I pulled my valve-cord to descend. It refused to obey my hand. For amoment I was horror-struck. What was to be done? If I ascended muchhigher, the balloon would explode. I threw over some tissue paper totest my progress. It is well known that this will _rise_ very swiftly. It _fell_, as if blown downward by a wind from the zenith. I was goingupward like an arrow. I attempted to pray, but my parched lips could notmove. I seized the cord again, with desperate energy. Blessed Heaven! itmoved. 10. I threw out more tissue. It rose to me like a wing of joy. I wasdescending. Though far from sunset, it was now dark about me, except atrack of blood-red haze in the direction of the sun. I encountered astrong current of wind; mist was about me; it lay like dew upon my coat. At last, a thick bar of vapor being past, what a scene was disclosed! Astorm was sweeping through the sky, nearly a mile beneath; and I lookeddown upon an ocean of rainbows, rolling in indescribable grandeur, tothe music of the thunder-peal, as it moaned afar and near, on the comingand dying wind. 11. A frightened eagle had ascended through the tempest, and sailed forminutes by my side, looking at me with panting weariness, and quiveringmandibles, but with a dilated eye, whose keen iris flashed unsubdued. Proud emblem of my country! As he fanned me with his heavy wing, andlooked with a human intelligence at the car, my pulse bounded withexulting rapture. Like the genius of my native land, he had risen aboveevery storm, unfettered and FREE. 12. But my transports were soon at an end. He attempted to light on theballoon, and my heart sunk; I feared his huge claws would tear the silk. I pulled my cord; he rose, as I sank, and the blast swept him from myview in a moment. A flock of wild-fowl, beat by the storm, were coursingbelow, on bewildered pinions; and, as I was nearing them, I knew I wasdescending. A breaking rift now admitted the sun. The rainbows tossedand gleamed; chains of fleecy rack, shining in prismatic rays of gold, and purple, and emerald, "beautiful exceedingly, " spread on every hand. 13. Vast curtains of clouds pavilioned the immensity, brighter thancelestial roses; masses of mist were lifted on high, like strips ofliving fire, more radiant than the sun himself, when his gloriousnoontide culminates from the equator. A kind of aerial Euroclydon nowsmote my car, and three of the cords parted, which tilted my gondola tothe side, filling me with terror. I caught the broken cords in my hand, but could not tie them. 14. The storm below was now rapidly passing away, and beneath its wavingoutline, to the south-east, I saw the ocean. Ships were speeding ontheir course, and their bright sails melting into distance; a rainbowhung afar; and the rolling anthems of the Atlantic came like celestialhymnings to my ear. Presently all was clear below me. The fresh airplayed around. I had taken a noble circuit; and my last view was betterthan the first, I was far over the bay, "afloating sweetly to the west. "The city, colored by the last blaze of day, brightened remotely to theview. 15. Below, ships were hastening to and fro through the Narrows, and thefar country lay smiling like an Eden. Bright rivers ran like ribbons ofgold and silver, till they were lost in the vast inland, stretchingbeyond the view; the gilded mountains were flinging their purple shadowsover many a vale; bays were blushing to the farewell day-beams; and nowI was passing over a green island. I sailed to the mainland; saw thetall, old trees waving to the evening breeze; heard the rural lowing ofherds, and the welcome sound of human voices; and, finally, sweepingover forest-tops and embowered villages, at last, descended with thesun, among a kind-hearted, surprised, and hospitable community, in aspretty a town as one could desire to see, "safe and well. " QUESTIONS. --1. What demonstrations were made by the people as theaeronaut began to ascend? 2. How did the city and other objects appearto him? 3. What could he hear? 4. Describe the appearance of the ocean. 5. What did he do with his carrier-pigeon? 6. How high did he ascend?7. Describe his descent. 8. What is said about the eagle that came nearhim? 9. Describe the appearance of the clouds beneath him. * * * * * LESSON LXXIX. BOUN' TY, charity; favor. FRU' GAL, prudent; economical. FLOUR' ISH ED, thrived; prospered. DIS CHARG' ED, performed. BREED' ING, education. EM BRAC' ED, accepted. MAIN TAIN' ED, supported. TRUDG' ED, traveled. BE GUIL' ED, amused. LE' GAL, lawful. TWAIN, two. BE WITCH' ING, charming. YOUNK' ER, lad; youngster. MED' I TA TIVE, thoughtful. PRO VOK' ED, (PRO, _forward, forth_; VOKED, _called_;) called forth; excited. IN CLUDE', (IN, _in_; CLUDE, _shut_;) shut in; inclose. IN SERT', (IN, _in_; SERT, _join, set_;) join, or set in; put in. THE DAPPLE MARE. JOHN G. SAXE. 1. "Once on a time, " as ancient tales declare, There lived a farmer in a quiet dell In Massachusetts, but exactly where, Or when, is really more than I can tell, -- Except that quite above the public bounty, He lived within his means and Bristol county. 2. By patient labor and unceasing care, He earned, and so enjoyed, his daily bread; Contented always with his frugal fare, Ambition to be rich ne'er vexed his head; And thus unknown to envy, want, or wealth, He flourished long in comfort, peace, and health. 3. The gentle partner of his humble lot, The joy and jewel of his wedded life, Discharged the duties of his peaceful cot, Like a true woman and a faithful wife; Her mind improved by thought and useful reading, Kind words and gentle manners showed her breeding. 4. Grown old, at last, the farmer called his son, The youngest, (and the favorite I suppose, ) And said, -- "I long have thought, my darling John, 'Tis time to bring my labors to a close; So now to toil I mean to bid adieu, And deed, my son, the homestead-farm to you. " 5. The boy embraced the boon with vast delight, And promised, while their precious lives remained, He'd till and tend the farm from morn till night, And see his parents handsomely maintained; God help him, he would never fail to love, nor Do aught to grieve his gen'rous old gov'nor. 6. The farmer said, --"Well, let us now proceed, (You know there's always danger in delay, ) And get 'Squire Robinson to write the deed; Come, --where's my staff?--we'll soon be on the way. " But John replied, with tender, filial care, "You're old and weak--I'll catch the Dapple Mare. " 7. The mare was saddled, and the old man got on, The boy on foot trudged cheerfully along, The while, to cheer his sire, the duteous son Beguiled the weary way with talk and song. Arrived, at length, they found the 'Squire at home, And quickly told him wherefore they had come. 8. The deed was writ in proper form of law, With many a "foresaid, " "therefore, " and "the same, " And made throughout without mistake or flaw, To show that John had now a legal claim To all his father's land--conveyed, given, sold, Quit-claimed, et cetera, [Footnote 1]--to have and hold. 9. Their business done, they left the lawyer's door, Happier, perhaps, than when they entered there; And started off as they had done before, -- The son on foot, the father on the mare. But ere the twain a single mile had gone, A brilliant thought occurred to Master John. 10. Alas for truth!--alas for filial duty!-- Alas that Satan in the shape of pride, (His most bewitching form save that of beauty, ) Whispered the lad--"My boy, you ought to ride!" "Get off!" exclaimed the younker--"'t isn't fair That you should always ride the Dapple Mare!" 11. The son was lusty, and the sire was old, And so, with many an oath and many a frown, The hapless father did as he was told; The man got off the steed, the boy got on, And rode away as fast as she could trot, And left his sire to trudge it home on foot! 12. That night, while seated round the kitchen fire The household sat, cheerful as if no word Or deed, provoked the injured father's ire, Or aught to make him sad had e'er occurred, -- Thus spoke he to his son: "We quite forgot, I think, t'include that little turnip lot!" 13. "I'm very sure, my son, it wouldn't hurt it, " Calmly observed the meditative sire, "To take the deed, my lad, and just insert it;" Here the old man inserts it--_in the fire!_ Then cries aloud with most triumphant air, "Who now, my son, shall ride the Dapple Mare?" [Footnote 1: And so forth. ] QUESTIONS. --1. What proposition did the father make to his son? 2. Whatdid the son promise to do? 3. How did the son treat his father after hegot the deed? 4. What did the old gentleman do? * * * * * LESSON LXXX. HARD' I HOOD, bravery. MAIN TRUCK, small cap at the top of a flagstaff or masthead. A GHAST', horrified. GROUPS, clusters; crowds. PAL' LID, pale. LU' RID, dismal; gloomy. HUE, color. RIV' ET TED, firmly fixed. FOLD' ED, embraced; clasped. A LEAP FOR LIFE. GEORGE P. MORRIS. 1. Old Ironsides at anchor lay, (sl. ) In the harbor of Mahon [Footnote 1]; A dead calm rested on the bay, -- The waves to sleep had gone, -- When little Jack, [Footnote 2] the captain's son, With gallant hardihood, Climbed shroud and spar, --and then upon The main-truck rose and stood! 2. A shudder ran through every vein, -- All eyes were turned on high! There stood the boy, with dizzy brain, Between the sea and sky! No hold had he above, --below, Alone he stood in air! At that far hight none dared to go, -- No aid could reach him there. 3. We gazed, --but not a man could speak; With horror all aghast, In groups, with pallid brow and cheek, We watched the quivering mast! The atmosphere grew thick and hot, And of a lurid hue, As, riveted unto the spot, Stood officers and crew. 4. The father came on deck. He gasped, "O God, Thy will be done!" Then suddenly a rifle grasped, And aimed it at his son! "Jump far out, boy, into the wave! Jump, or I fire!" he said. "That only chance your life can save:('') Jump! jump, boy!" He obeyed. 5. He sank, --he rose, --he lived, --he moved, -- He for the ship struck out! On board we hailed the lad beloved With many a manly shout. His father drew, in silent joy, Those wet arms round his neck, Then folded to his heart the boy, And fainted on the deck! [Footnote 1: MA HON', (_Ma hone_, ) a sea-port town on the island ofMinorca, in the Mediterranean Sea. ] [Footnote 2: A name commonly applied to a young sailor. ] QUESTIONS. --1. What did the captain's son do, on board the Ironsides? 2. Describe his situation. 3. What is said of the officers and crew? 4. What did the father say and do? 5. What did the boy do? * * * * * LESSON LXXXI. COM MIN' GLE, mix or unite. PE DES' TRI AN, traveler on foot. PROM' I NENT, important. TRAG' lC, fatal; mournful. NAR RATE', tell; relate. YORE, olden time. WI' LY, craft; cunning. RE LENT' LESS, hard-hearted; cruel. WIG' WAM, Indian hut or cabin. EM BARK' ED, went aboard. TWANG, quick, sharp sound. SPA' CIOUS, large; capacious. WA' RI LY, cautiously. MYS TE' RI OUS LY, strangely. OM' IN OUS, foreboding ill. IM PLA' CA BLE, relentless. UN TRACE' A BLE, (UN, _not_; TRACE, _mark_; ABLE, _that can be_;) that can not be marked, or traced; not found out. THE INDIAN BRIDE'S REVENGE. L. M. STOWELL. 1. In the State of New York, where the dark, foaming waters of the BlackRiver, after roaring and surging through many pleasant fields, beautifulgroves, and dense woodlands, commingle with the clear, cold waters ofLake Ontario, the wandering pedestrian or the lone fisherman may see, resting upon a gravelly flat, the remains of an _old Indian canoe_, whose once beautiful proportions, now untraceable in its rottenness, bore a prominent part in the tragic event I am about to narrate. 2. Through these pleasant valleys, among the broken hills, and in themajestic forests, of yore, the wily Indian and his dusky mate, heldundisputed possession; and many are the incidents, yet unwritten, oftragic and thrilling interest, that transpired around the red men'scamp-fire, ere the white man disturbed their forest homes. 3. Si ous' ka, or the "Wild Flower, " was the daughter of a powerfulchief of the Onondagas, and the only being ever known to turn therelentless old chief from a savage purpose. Something of this influencewas owing to her great beauty; but more to the gentleness of which thatbeauty was the emblem. Her downcast eye, her trembling lip, her quiet, submissive motion, all bespoke its language; and many were the youngchieftains that sought to win her affections. 4. Among her admirers were two young chiefs of the Oneidas, with whomthe Onondagas were on the most friendly terms. Si ous' ka's father, inorder to cherish the friendly feeling of the two tribes, and, at thesame time, strengthen his power, besought her to accept the morepowerful chief, "Eagle Eye. " He did not plead in vain; for she had longloved the young Oneida. 5. One bright sunny morning, in early spring, as the old chief was outhunting, the young Oneida crossed his path, upon which the old manadvanced, and, laying his hand upon his shoulder, pointed to thedwelling of Si ous' ka. Not a word was spoken. The proud old man and thestrong, young chief proceeded toward her wigwam, and entered together. 6. Si ous' ka was seated in one corner, engaged upon some fancybasket-work, and did not notice their approach until they had entered. The old chief looked upon her with an expression of love, which hisstern countenance never wore except in her presence. "Sious'ka, " he saidin a subdued tone, "Go to the wigwam of the Oneida, that your father'stribe may be strengthened, and many moons may shine upon their peace andprosperity. " 7. There was mingled joy and modesty in the upward glance of the "WildFlower" of the Onondagas, and, when the young chief saw the light of hermild eye suddenly and timidly vailed by its deeply-fringed lid, he knewthat her love had lost none of its power. The marriage song was soonsung in the royal wigwam, in which the sweet voice of Sious'ka washappily heard to mingle. 8. When the rejected chief of the Oneidas heard that the "Wild Flower"had mated with the "Eagle Eye, " his wrath knew no bounds, and hesecretly resolved upon revenge. Two years passed away, and, as yet, nogood opportunity had arrived; for he dared not attack "Eagle Eye" inopen conflict, for fear of his superior powers; and, assassin-like, hesought to give the blow unperceived. 9. At length, the spring came, and a number of the tribe prepared tovisit Lake Ontario, on a fishing and hunting excursion. Among the numberwho went, were the "Eagle Eye, " Sious'ka, and their little boy. Theywere obliged to carry their light, birchen canoes from home, and thesewere packed with the necessary tackle, skins for beds, &c. The strongmen of the party carried the canoes on their shoulders, and the womenthe smaller articles of furniture. 10. They had advanced across the country, until they reached the BlackRiver, and, by carrying their canoes around falls and rapids, gentlyfloated down the stream till they reached the great falls, about sixmiles from the Lake. Here they halted for the night, and encamped abouthalf a mile above the falls. 11. The morning came; and, as the first beam of the rising sun piercedthe forest shade, the party again embarked in their canoes for the mouthof the river, the gaudy canoe of Si ous' ka, which her father had givenher, taking the lead. They had scarcely started from the shore, ere thesharp twang of a bow-string was heard from the shore, and an unerringarrow pierced the heart of "Eagle Eye. " He fell over the side of thecanoe, and was swept by the current over the great falls. 12. The party immediately started in pursuit of the coward murderer; butthey sought in vain. His hiding-place was too sure, --he had taken refugein a cave, the entrance of which was hid from observation by a thickclump of cedars. Here he remained till he was certain the company haddeparted. This cave is still there, and I have often been in its manychambers, --some of which are very spacious. 13. The fatal shaft was winged from the bow of the revenged Oneidachief. Having been apprised of the expedition, he had warily dogged thesteps of the party, until a favorable opportunity presented itself, andthen satisfied his secret longing for revenge upon the enemy, whom hedid not dare to attack even-handed. The party sought him far and near;but, as no trace of any one could be found, they imagined, withsuperstitious fear, that the "Great Spirit" had thus summoned "EagleEye" to the "Spirit's Hunting Ground. " 14. When they returned to their canoes, no traces of Si ous' ka and herchild were to be found. They, too, had mysteriously disappeared, and thewhole party, with ominous silence, hastened around the falls, and awayfrom the fearful place. When Si ous' ka saw the fatal shaft pierce hercompanion, with, a fearful shriek she fell into the bottom of the canoe, hid herself in the furs, and immediately her reason forsook her. 15. When she recovered, she found that her canoe, urged on by thecurrent, had floated into a large cave, and was firmly wedged in betweentwo rocks; and her little boy, with his bow and arrow in his hand, wasquietly sleeping by her side. Dislodging the canoe, she plied the oars, and was soon outside the cave. 16. On finding her people had left her, she sought the shore, and, fastening the canoe, proceeded below the falls, where she found the bodyof the ill-fated "Eagle Eye, " where it had washed ashore. Withsuperhuman strength, she bore the mangled body to a thick grove ofcedars, and, with her own hands, dug a rude grave, and covered hisremains with dried leaves and earth. That night she kept her lonelywatch beside the grave of all that she held dear on earth, save her boy, intending to follow the party on the morrow. 17. The morning came, and the mid-day sun began to descend toward thewestern hills, ere she left the grave of the murdered chief. But, atlength, she sorrowfully departed; and, on arriving where she moored thecanoe the day before, what was her surprise to see the murderer of herhusband, quietly sleeping upon the skins where last "Eagle Eye" hadreposed, in the bow of the canoe. 18. From that moment Si ous' ka was changed. Her quiet, submissive airimmediately gave place to fierce sternness, and the eye that had alwaysbeamed with the smile of love, shot forth flashes of bitter hate andpassion, implacable as the most bloodthirsty of her tribe. Noiselesslythrowing the oars from the boat, with a wild shriek, she quickly swungit around into the rapidly rolling current, and it was hurried towardthe brink of that awful cataract, over which no living being had everpassed alive. 19. The young chief, awakened by that fearful, exulting cry of revenge, and seeing the peril of his situation, leaped from the bark that washurrying him to sure destruction, and vainly sought to gain the shore. After struggling with the swift tide for a moment, in which he wascarried nearer and nearer the awful brink, he turned, and, with a wild, unearthly yell, plunged over, and the boiling waters only responded tohis death-wail, as he sunk to rise no more, and his spirit joined thatof his victim in the "Spirit Land. " 20. After the gentle "Wild Flower" had avenged the death of the "EagleEye, " she returned to her father's wigwam, and spent the remainder ofher life to the memory of her heart's first devotion. The canoe, allbattered and broken, floated to the mouth of the river, bottom side up, where it was seen by one of the party while fishing, drawn to the shore, and left to decay. The party supposed that "Eagle Eye, " Sious'ka, andher child, had all perished in some mysterious manner. QUESTIONS. --1. Who was Sious'ka? 2. Who became her husband? 3. Whateffect had her marriage upon the rejected Oneida chief? 4. In what waydid he seek revenge? 5. How did Sious'ka avenge the death of herhusband? * * * * * LESSON LXXXII. EN TER TAIN' ED, had; harbored. PE CUL IAR' I TY, something special. CHA GRIN'ED, (_sha grin'ed_, ) vexed. MOR' TI FI ED, hurt in feeling. OUT STRIP', go beyond; excel. RI' VAL RY, emulation. RE VERS' ES, troubles; difficulties. IN VIG' OR A TED, made strong. DES O LA' TION, waste; ruin. REF' UGE, shelter; protection. SYM' PA THIZ ED, (SYM, _with_; PATH, _feeling_; IZE, _make, have_; ED, _did_;) did have feeling with. See Note on the suffix IZE, p. 132 of the ANALYSIS. [Headnote 1: SIS' ER A, captain of the army of the Canaanitish king, Jabin. He was utterly defeated by Barak. Fleeing on foot, he took refugein the tent of Jael, wife of Heber. There, while asleep, Jael drove anail through his temples, and so he died. His mother, finding he did notreturn from the battle, "looked out at a window, and cried through thelattice, Why is his chariot so long in coming?" Read 4th and 5thchapters of Judges. ] A MOTHER'S LOVE. ALBERT BARNES. 1. Many of us who are advanced beyond the period of childhood, went outfrom home to embark on the stormy sea of life. Of the feelings of afather, and of his interest in our welfare, we have never entertained adoubt, and our home was dear because he was there; but there was apeculiarity in the feeling that it was the home of our mother. Where_she_ lived, there was a place that we felt was _home_. There was _oneplace_ where we would always be welcome, _one place_ where we would bemet with a smile, _one place_ where we would be sure of a friend. 2. The world might be indifferent to us. We might be unsuccessful in ourstudies or our business. The new friends which we supposed we had made, might prove to be false. The honor which we thought we deserved, mightbe withheld from us. We might be chagrined and mortified by seeing arival outstrip us, and bear away the prize which we sought. But there_was_ a place where no feelings of rivalry were found, and where thosewhom the world overlooked, would be sure of a friendly greeting. Whetherpale and wan by study, care, or sickness, or flushed with health andflattering success, we were _sure_ that we should be welcome there. 3. Though the world was cold toward us, yet there was _one_ who alwaysrejoiced in our success, and always was affected in our reverses; andthere was a _place_ to which we might go back from the storm which beganto pelt us, where we might rest, and become encouraged and invigoratedfor a new conflict. So have I seen a bird, in its first efforts to fly, leave its nest, and stretch its wings, and go forth to the wide world. But the wind blew it back, and the rain began to fall, and the darknessof night began to draw on, and there was no shelter abroad, and itsought its way back to its nest, to take shelter beneath its mother'swings, and to be refreshed for the struggles of a new day; but then itflew away to think of its nest and its mother no more. 4. But not thus did we leave our home when we bade adieu to it to goforth alone to the manly duties of life. Even amidst the storms thatthen beat upon us, and the disappointments that we met with, and thecoldness of the world, we felt still that there _was one_ whosympathized in our troubles, as well as rejoiced in our success, andthat, whatever might be abroad, when we entered the door of herdwelling, we should be met with a smile. We expected that a mother, likethe mother of Sisera [Headnote 1], as she "looked out at her window, "waiting for the coming of her son laden with the spoils of victory, would look out for _our_ coming, and that _our_ return would renew herjoy and ours in our earlier days. 5. It makes a sad desolation when, from such a place, a mother is takenaway, and when, whatever may be the sorrows or the successes in life, she is to greet the returning son or daughter no more. The home of ourchildhood may be still lovely. The old family mansion--the greenfields--the running stream--the moss-covered well--the trees--thelawn--the rose--the sweet-brier--may be there. Perchance, too, there maybe an aged father, with venerable locks, sitting in his loneliness, withevery thing to command respect and love; but she is not there. Herfamiliar voice is not heard. The mother has been borne forth to sleep bythe side of her children who went before her, and the place is not whatit was. 6. There may be those there whom we much love; but _she_ is not there. We may have formed new relations in life, tender and strong as they canbe; we may have another home, dear to us as was the home of ourchildhood, where there is all in affection, kindness, and religion, tomake us happy; but _that_ home is not what it was, and it will _never_be what it was again. It is a loosening of one of the cords which boundus to earth, designed to prepare us for our eternal flight from everything dear here below, and to teach us that there is _no_ place here, that is to be our permanent home. QUESTIONS. --1. What renders home doubly endearing? 2. Where are wealways welcome? 3. Who always rejoices in our successes, and is affectedin our reverses? 4. Who was Sisera, and what account is given of him? * * * * * LESSON LXXXIII. UN SPOT' TED, pure; unstained. FAL' TER, fail. TRA' CER Y, traces; impressions. IM' PRESS, mark: stamp. DO MIN' ION, authority; predominance. SHRINK, withdraw. PUR SU' ING, following. STERN ER, harsher; more rigid. DE FY', dare; challenge. WHO' SO, any person whatever. TO' KEN, sign; indication. BROTH' ER HOOD, fraternity. THE LIFE-BOOK. HOME JOURNAL. 1. Write, mother, write! A new, unspotted book of life before thee, Thine is the hand to trace upon its pages The first few characters, to live in glory, Or live in shame, through long, unending ages! Write, mother, write! Thy hand, though woman's, must not faint nor falter: The lot is on thee, --nerve thee then with care, -- A _mother's tracery_ time may never alter; Be its first impress, then, the breath of prayer! Write, mother, write! 2. Write, father, write! Take thee a pen plucked from an eagle's pinion, And write _immortal actions_ for thy son; Teach him that man forgets man's high dominion, Creeping on earth, leaving _great deeds_ undone! Write, father, write! Leave on his life-book a fond father's blessing, To shield him 'mid temptation, toil, and sin. And he shall go to glory's field, possessing _Strength to contend, and confidence to win_. Write, father, write! 3. Write, sister, write! Nay, shrink not, for a sister's love is holy! Write words the angels whisper in thine ears, -- No bud of sweet affection, howe'er lowly, But planted here, will bloom in after years. Write, sister, write! Something to cheer him, his rough way pursuing, For manhood's lot is sterner far than ours; He may not pause, --he must be up and doing, Whilst thou sitt'st idly, dreaming among flowers. Write, sister, write! 4. Write, brother, write! Strike a bold blow upon those kindred pages, -- Write; shoulder to shoulder, brother, we will go; Heart linked to heart, though wild the conflict rages, We will defy the battle and the foe. Write, brother, write! We who have trodden boyhood's path together, Beneath the summer's sun and winter's sky, What matter if life brings us some foul weather, We may be stronger than adversity! Write, brother, write! 5. Fellow immortal, write! One GOD reigns in the Heavens, --there is no other, -- And _all mankind are brethren_--thus 'tis spoken, -- And whoso aids a sorrowing, struggling brother, By kindly word, or deed, or friendly token, Shall win the favor of our heavenly Father, Who judges evil, and rewards the good, And who hath linked the race of man together, In one vast, universal brotherhood! Fellow immortal, write! QUESTIONS. --1. What may the mother write in the Life-Book? 2. What, thefather? 3. What, the sister? 4. What, the brother? 5. What may allwrite? * * * * * LESSON LXXXIV. ODE, short poem. PA TER' NAL, coming by inheritance. AT TIRE', clothing; raiment. UN CON CERN' ED LY, without care. REC RE A' TION, amusement. IN' NO CENCE, freedom from guilt. MED I TA' TION, contemplation. UN LA MENT' ED, unmourned. ODE ON SOLITUDE. POPE. Written when the author was twelve years of age. 1. Happy the man whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. 2. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire; Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter fire. 3. Blest who can unconcern'dly find Hours, days, and years glide soft away, In health of body, peace of mind, Quiet by day. 4. Sound sleep by night; study and ease, Together mixed; sweet recreation; And innocence, which most doth please With meditation. 5. Thus let me live, unseen, unknown; Thus unlamented let me die; Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie. QUESTIONS. --1. Who, did the writer think, were happy? 2. How did he wishto live and die? 3. Analyse the word _recreation_, (RE _back_; CREATION, _act of bringing into life_;) act of bringing back to life; a reviving. * * * * * LESSON LXXXV. AD MI RA' TION, esteem. FRA TER' NAL, brotherly. IN SIG NIF' I CANCE, worthlessness. CRIT' IC AL, perilous. THOR' OUGH LY, completely; fully. COM PRE HEND', understand. CON VIC' TION, strong belief. COM PE TI' TION, strife; rivalry. EM U LA' TION, competition. IN TRIN' SIC AL LY, really; truly. AP PRE' CI ATE, value; esteem. BRAWN, physical strength. PIN' NA CLE, summit; highest point. SIN' U OUS, winding; bending. LE GIT' I MATE, lawful. REQ' UI SITE, necessary. CON SER VA' TION, act of keeping. DE VEL' OP MENT, training. GETTING THE RIGHT START. J. G. HOLLAND. 1. The first great lesson a young man should learn, is, that _he knowsnothing;_ and that the earlier and more thoroughly this lesson islearned, the better it will be for his peace of mind, and his success inlife. A young man bred at home, and growing up in the light of parentaladmiration and fraternal pride, can not readily understand how it is, that every one else can be his equal in talent and acquisition. If bredin the country, he seeks the life of the town, he will very early obtainan idea of his insignificance. 2. This is a critical period in his history. The result of his reasoningwill decide his fate. If, at this time, he thoroughly comprehend, and inhis soul admit and accept the fact, that _he knows nothing_ and _isnothing;_ if he bow to the conviction that his mind and his person arebut ciphers, and that whatever he is _to be_, and is _to win_, must beachieved by _hard work_, there is abundant hope of him. 3. If, on the contrary, a huge self-conceit still hold possession ofhim, and he straightens stiffly up to the assertion of his old andvalueless self, --or, if he sink discouraged upon the threshold of a lifeof fierce competitions, and more manly emulations, he might as well be adead man. The world has no use for such a man, and he has only to retireor be trodden upon. 4. When a young man has thoroughly comprehended the fact that _he knowsnothing_, and that, intrinsically, he is of but _little value_, the nextthing for him to learn is that _the world cares nothing for him_, --thathe is the subject of no man's overwhelming admiration and esteem, --thathe must take care of himself. 5. If he be a stranger, he will find every man busy with his ownaffairs, and none to look after him. He will not be noticed until hebecomes _noticeable_, and he will not become noticeable, until he _doessomething_ to prove that he has an absolute value in society. No letterof recommendation will give him this, or ought to give him this. Nofamily connection will give him this, except among those few who thinkmore of blood than brains. 6. Society demands that a young man _shall be somebody_, not only, butthat _he shall prove his right to the title_; and it has a right todemand this. Society will not take this matter upon trust, --at least, not for a long time; for it has been cheated too frequently. Society isnot very particular what a man does, so that it prove him to be a _man_:then it will bow to him, and make room for him. 7. There is no surer sign of an unmanly and cowardly spirit, than avague desire for _help_, --a wish to _depend_, to _lean_ upon somebody, and enjoy the fruits of the industry of others. There are multitudes ofyoung men who indulge in dreams of help from some quarter, coming in ata convenient moment, to enable them to secure the success in life whichthey covet. The vision haunts them of some benevolent old gentleman, with a pocket full of money, a trunk full of mortgages and stocks, and amind remarkably appreciative of merit and genius, who will, perhaps, give or lend them from ten to twenty thousand dollars, with which theywill commence and go on swimmingly. 8. To me, one of the most disgusting sights in the world, is that of ayoung man with healthy blood, broad shoulders, and a hundred and fiftypounds, more or less, of good bone and muscle, standing with his handsin his pockets, longing for help. I admit that there are positions inwhich the most independent spirit may accept of assistance, --may, infact, as a choice of evils, desire it; but for a man who is able to helphimself, to desire the help of others in the accomplishment of his plansof life, is positive proof that he has received a most unfortunatetraining, or that there is a leaven of meanness in his composition, thatshould make him shudder. 9. When, therefore, a young man has ascertained and fully received thefact that he does not know any thing, that the world does not care anything about him, that what he wins must be won by his own brain andbrawn, and that while he holds in his own hands the means of gaining hisown livelihood and the objects of his life, he can not receiveassistance without compromising his self-respect and selling hisfreedom, he is in a fair position for beginning life. When a young manbecomes aware that only by _his own efforts_ can he rise intocompanionship and competition with the sharp, strong, and well-drilledminds around him, he of ready for work, and not before. 10. The next lesson is, that of _patience_, thoroughness in preparation, and contentment with the regular channels of business effort andenterprise. This is, perhaps, one of the most difficult to learn, of allthe lessons of life. It is natural for the mind to reach out eagerly forimmediate results. 11. As manhood dawns, and the young man catches in its first light thepinnacles of realized dreams, the golden domes of high possibilities, and the purpling hills of great delights, and then looks down upon thenarrow, sinuous, long, and dusty path by which others have reachedthem, he is apt to be disgusted with the passage, and to seek forsuccess through broader channels, by quicker means. Beginning at thevery foot of the hill, and working slowly to the top, seems a verydiscouraging process; and precisely at this point, have thousands ofyoung men made shipwreck of their lives. 12. Let this be understood, then, at starting; that the patient conquestof difficulties, which rise in the regular and legitimate channels ofbusiness and enterprise, is not only essential in securing the successeswhich you seek, but it is essential to that preparation of your mind, requisite for the enjoyment of your successes, and for retaining themwhen gained. It is the general rule of Providence, the world over, andin all time, that unearned success is a curse. It is the rule ofProvidence, that the process of earning success, shall be thepreparation for its conservation and enjoyment. 13. So, day by day, and week by week; so, month after month, and yearafter year, _work on_, and in that process gain strength and symmetry, and nerve and knowledge, that when success, patiently and bravely workedfor, shall come, it may find you prepared to receive it and keep it. Thedevelopment which you will get in this brave and patient labor, willprove itself, in the end, the most valuable of your successes. It willhelp to make a _man_ of you. It will give you power and self-reliance. It will give you not only _self-respect_, but the _respect of yourfellows and the public_. QUESTIONS. --1. What is the first lesson a young man should learn?2. What is the next lesson he should learn? 3. What does society demandof a young man? 4. What is a sure sign of an unmanly and cowardly spirit?5. When is a young man in a fair position for beginning life? 6. What isa general rule of Providence? * * * * * LESSON LXXXVI. PRE SUMP' TION, arrogance. SOPH' ISTS, professed teachers of wisdom. AC COST' ED, addressed. GEN' IUS, natural aptitude. IN DUC' ED, prevailed upon. PHI LOS' O PHER, lover of wisdom. BAR' BA ROUS, foreign; uncivilized. DIS SUADE', turn away from. EX CESS' IVE. Overmuch. ES TEEM' ED, highly regarded. RE TRENCH, lessen; curtail. SU PER' FLU OUS, extravagant; needless. UN DER TAK' ING, engaging in. IN CA PAC' I TY, inability. [Headnote 1: THE MIS' TO CLES, a celebrated Athenian statesman andmilitary leader, was born about 514 before Christ. ] [Headnote 2: CI' MON, an illustrious Athenian general and statesman, born about the year 510, before Christ. He belonged to the aristocraticparty of his time, and contributed to the banishment of Themistocles, the leader of the opposite party. He was also the political opponent ofPericles. ] [Headnote 3: PER' I CLES, an Athenian statesman, born about 495 beforeChrist. He labored to make Athens the capital of all Greece, and theseat of art and refinement. ] [Headnote 4: PLA' TO, a celebrated Greek philosopher, born in Athensabout the year 429 before Christ. He was a pupil of Socrates. ] THE PRESUMPTION OF YOUTH. ROLLIN. 1. The young people of Athens, amazed at the glory ofThemistocles, [Headnote 1] of Cimon, [Headnote 2] of Pericles, [Headnote 3]and full of a foolish ambition, after having received some lessons fromthe sophists, who promised to render them very great politicians, believed themselves capable of every thing, and aspired to fill thehighest places. One of them, named Glaucon, took it so strongly in hishead that he had a _peculiar genius_ for public affairs, although he wasnot yet twenty years of age, that no person in his family, nor among hisfriends, had the power to divert him from a notion so little befittinghis age and capacity. 2. Socrates, who liked him on account of Plato [Headnote 4] his brother, was the only one who succeeded in making him change his resolution. Meeting him one day, he accosted him with so dexterous a discourse, thathe induced him to listen. He had already gained much influence over him. "You have a desire to govern the republic?" said Socrates. "True, "replied Glaucon. "You can not have a finer design, " said thephilosopher, "since, if you succeed in it, you will be in a state toserve your friends, to enlarge your house, and to extend the limits ofyour native country. 3. "You will become known not only in Athens, but through all Greece;and it may be that your renown will reach even to the barbarous nations, like that of Themistocles. At last, you will gain the respect andadmiration of everybody. " A beginning so flattering pleased the youngman exceedingly, and he very willingly continued the conversation. "Since you desire to make yourself esteemed and respected, it is clearthat you think to render yourself useful to the public. " "Assuredly. ""Tell me, then, I beseech you, what is the first service that you intendto render the state?" 4. As Glaucon appeared to be perplexed, and considered what he ought toanswer, --"Probably, " replied Socrates, "it will be to enrich therepublic, that is to say, to increase its revenues. " "Exactly so. " "And, undoubtedly, you know in what the revenues of the state consist, and theextent to which they may be increased. You will not have failed to makeit a private study, to the end that if one source should suddenly fail, you may be able to supply its place immediately with another. " "I assureyou, " answered Glaucon, "that this is what I have never thought of. " 5. "Tell me, at least, then, the necessary expenses of maintaining therepublic. You can not fail to know of what importance it is to retrenchthose which are superfluous. " "I confess to you that I am not moreinstructed with regard to this article than the other. " "Then it isnecessary to defer till another time the design that you have ofenriching the republic; for it is impossible for you to benefit thestate while you are ignorant of its revenues and expenses. " 6. "But, " said Glaucon, "there is still another means that you pass overin silence, --one can enrich a state by the ruin of its enemies. " "Youare right. " replied Socrates, "but, in order to do that, you must be themore powerful; otherwise you run the risk of losing that which youpossess. So, he who speaks of undertaking a war, ought to know the powerof both parties, to the end that if he finds his party the stronger, hemay boldly risk the adventure; but, if he find it the weaker, he shoulddissuade the people from undertaking it. 7. "But, do you know what are the forces of our republic, by sea and byland, and what are those of our enemies'? have you a statement of themin writing'? You will do me the pleasure to allow me a perusal of it. ""I have none yet, " replied Glaucon. "I see, then, " said Socrates, "thatwe shall not make war so soon, if they intrust _you_ with thegovernment; for there remain many things for you to know, and many caresto take. " 8. The sage mentioned many other articles, not less important, in whichhe found Glaucon equally inexperienced, and he pointed out howridiculous they render themselves, who have the rashness to intermeddlewith government, without bringing any other preparation to the task than_a great degree of self-esteem and excessive ambition_. "Fear, my dearGlaucon, " said Socrates, "fear, lest a too ardent desire for honorsshould blind you; and cause you to take a part that would cover you withshame, in bringing to light your incapacity, and want of talent. " 9. The youth was wise enough to profit by the good advice of hisinstructor, and took some time to gain private information, before heventured to appear in public. This lesson is for all ages. QUESTIONS. --1. To what did the young people of Athens aspire? 2. Whatdid Glaucon believe he possessed? 3. Who succeeded in making him changehis resolution? 4. How did Socrates do this? 5. What did Socratesfinally say to him? * * * * * LESSON LXXXVII. CREST, topmost height. TOR' RENTS, rushing streams. TYPE, symbol; token. AE' RIE, (_a' ry_, ) eagle's nest. VAULT' ED, arched. LIQ' UID, (_lik' wid_, ) clear; flowing. BASK, lie exposed to warmth. CAN' O PY, covering. REV' EL RY, noisy merriment. BIDE, stay; continue. VO LUP' TU OUS, devoted to pleasure. HAUNTS, places of resort. EX PIRES', dies; becomes extinct. SMOL' DER ING, burning and smoking without vent. HER' IT AGE, inheritance. QUENCH' ED, extinguished. PEN' NON, flag; banner. WRENCH, wrest; twist off. CRA' VEN, base; cowardly. SONG OF THE AMERICAN EAGLE. 1. I build my nest on the mountain's crest, Where the wild winds rock my eaglets to rest, -- Where the lightnings flash, and the thunders crash, And the roaring torrents foam and dash; For my spirit free henceforth shall be A type of the sons of Liberty. 2. Aloft I fly from my aerie high, Through the vaulted dome of the azure sky; On a sunbeam bright take my airy flight, And float in a flood of liquid light; For I love to play in the noontide ray, And bask in a blaze from the throne of day. 3. Away I spring with a tireless wing, On a feathery cloud I poise and swing; I dart down the steep where the lightnings leap, And the clear blue canopy swiftly sweep; For, dear to me is the revelry Of a free and fearless Liberty. 4. I love the land where the mountains stand, Like the watch-towers high of a Patriot band; For I may not bide in my glory and pride, Though the land be never so fair and wide, Where Luxury reigns o'er voluptuous plains, And fetters the free-born soul in chains. 5. Then give to me in my flights to see The land of the pilgrims _ever free_! And I never will rove from the haunts I love But watch, from my sentinel-track above, Your banner free, o'er land and sea, And exult in your glorious Liberty. 6. _O, guard ye well the land where I dwell_, Lest to future times the tale I tell, When slow expires in smoldering fires The goodly heritage of your sires, -- How Freedom's light rose clear and bright O'er fair Columbia's beacon-hight, Till ye quenched the flame in a starless night. 7. Then will I tear from your pennon fair The stars ye have set in triumph there; My olive-branch on the blast I'll launch, The fluttering stripes from the flagstaff wrench, And away I'll flee; for I scorn to see _A craven race_ in the land of the free! QUESTIONS. --1. Where does the eagle build its nest? 2. Describe itsflights. 3. Where does it love to dwell? 4. Of what is the eagle a type?5. What warning does it give to the people of this country? 6. What isthere peculiar in the construction of the first, third, and fifth linesof each verse? * * * * * LESSON LXXXVIII. AN' THEM, ode; song. DAUNT' LESS, bold; fearless. WAG' ED, carried on. UN AW' ED, undismayed. SCROLL, roll of paper; document. COUNT' LESS, unnumbered. ROY' AL, regal; noble. U' NI VERSE, whole creation. BAF' FLED, frustrated. TY RAN' NIC, oppressive; despotic. CURB, check; restrain. SUC CEED' ING, following. HURL' ED, thrown. PEAL' ED, resounded. [Headnote 1: HEL' LES PONT, now the Dardanelles, a narrow strait betweenAsia and Europe. ] [Headnote 2: XER' XES, (_zerks' ees_, ) the celebrated king of Persia, during his famous expedition into Greece, caused a bridge of boats to bebuilt over the Hellespont; but the work having been destroyed by astorm, he was greatly enraged against the sea, and ordered it to belashed, and fetters to be cast into it to restrain its violence. ] THE ARMY OF REFORM. SARAH JANE LIPPINCOTT. 1. Yes, _ye are few_, --and _they were few_, Who, daring storm and sea, Once raised upon old Plymouth rock "The anthem of the free. " 2. _And they were few_ at Lexington, To battle, or to die, -- That lightning-flash, that thunder-peal, Told that the storm was nigh. 3. _And they were few_, who dauntless stood, Upon old Bunkers hight, And waged with Britain's strength and pride The fierce, unequal fight. 4. _And they were few_, who, all unawed By kingly "rights divine, " The Declaration, rebel scroll, [Footnote 1] Untrembling dared to sign. 5. _Yes, ye are few_; for one proud glance Can take in all your band, As now against a countless host, Firm, true, and calm, ye stand. 6. Unmoved by Folly's idiot laugh, Hate's curse, or Envy's frown, -- Wearing your rights as royal robes, Your manhood as a crown, -- 7. With eyes whose gaze, unvailed by mists, Still rises, clearer, higher, -- With stainless hands, and lips that Truth Hath touched with living fire, -- 8. With one high hope, that ever shines Before you as a star, -- One prayer of faith, one fount of strength, _A glorious few ye are!_ 9. Ye _dare_ not fear, ye _can not_ fail, Your destiny ye bind To that sublime, eternal law That rules the march of mind. 10. See yon bold eagle toward the sun Now rising free and strong, And see yon mighty river roll Its sounding tide along! 11. Ah! yet near earth the eagle tires, Lost in the sea, the river; _But naught can stay the human mind_, -- _'Tis upward, onward, ever!_ 12. It yet shall tread the starlit paths, By highest angels trod, And pause but at the farthest world In the universe of God. 13. 'Tis said that Persia's baffled king, In mad, tyrannic pride, Cast fetters on the Hellespont, [Headnote 1] To curb its swelling tide: 14. But freedom's own true spirit heaves The bosom of the main; It tossed those fetters to the skies, And bounded on again! 15. The scorn of each succeeding age On Xerxes'[Headnote 2] head was hurled, And o'er that foolish deed has pealed The long laugh of a world. 16. Thus, thus, defeat, and scorn, and shame, Is _his_, who strives to bind _The restless, leaping waves of thought, _ _The free tide of the mind. _ [Footnote 1: The reference is to the Declaration of Independence, madeJuly 4th, 1776. ] QUESTIONS. --1. Who raised the anthem of the free on Plymouth Rock?2. What is said of the few on Bunker's Hight? 3. How many signed theDeclaration of Independence? Ans. 56. 4. What is said of the eagle?5. Of the human mind? 6. Of Freedom? 7. Where is the Hellespont? * * * * * LESSON LXXXIX. FRESH' EN ED, grew brisk or strong. FIT FUL LY, at intervals. IN DI CA' TION, sign; token. EN THU' SI ASM, strong feeling. AP PRE HEND' ING, fearing. A BAN' DON, give up; forsake. HAW' SERS, cables; large ropes. VOL UN TEER' ED, offered willingly. IN' TER VAL, intervening time. DE VOT' ED, doomed; ill-fated. THWARTS, seats placed across a boat. GUAR' AN TY, warrant. IN EV' I TA BLY, certainly; surely. AC CU' MU LA TED, collected; heaped. STAN' CHION, (_stan' shun_, ) small post. VI' ED, strove; contended. DIS' LO CA TED, out of joint; disjointed. AM' PU TA TED, cut off. THE LAST CRUISE OF THE MONITOR. GREENVILLE M. WEEKS. 1. On the afternoon of December 29th, 1862, she put on steam, and, intow of the "Rhode Island, " passed Fortress Monroe, and out to sea. As wegradually passed out, the wind freshened somewhat; but the sun went downin glorious clouds of purple and crimson, and the night was fair andcalm above us, though, in the interior of our little vessel, the air hadalready begun to lose its freshness. We suffered more or less from itscloseness through the night, and woke in the morning to find it heavywith impurity, from the breaths of some sixty persons, composing theofficers and crew. 2. Sunshine found us on deck, enjoying pure air, and watching the east. During the night we had passed Cape Henry, and now, at dawn, foundourselves on the ocean, --the land only a blue line in the distance. Afew more hours, and that had vanished. No sails were visible; and thePassaic, which we had noticed the evening before, was now out of sight. The morning and afternoon passed quietly; we spent most of our time ondeck, on account of the confined air below, and, being on a level withthe sea, with the spray dashing over us occasionally, amused ourselveswith noting its shifting hues and forms, from the deep green of thefirst long roll, to the foam-crest and prismatic tints of the fallingwave. 3. As the afternoon advanced, the freshening wind, the thickeningclouds, and the increasing roll of the sea, gave those most accustomedto ordinary ship-life, some new experiences. The little vessel plungedthrough the rising waves, instead of riding them, and, as they increasedin violence, lay, as it were, under their crests, which washed over hercontinually; so that, even when we considered ourselves safe, theappearance was that of a vessel sinking. 4. "I'd rather go to sea in a diving-bell!" said one, as the wavesdashed over the pilot-house, and the little craft seemed buried inwater. "Give me an oyster-scow!" cried another, --"any thing! only let itbe _wood_, and something that will float _over_, instead of _under_ thewater!" Still she plunged on; and about 6:30 P. M. , we made CapeHatteras; in half an hour we had rounded the point. A general hurrahwent up, --"Hurrah for the first iron-clad that ever rounded CapeHatteras! Hurrah for the little boat that is first in every thing!" 5. At half-past seven, a heavy shower fell, lasting about twentyminutes. At this time the gale increased; black, heavy clouds coveredthe sky, through which the moon glittered fitfully, allowing us to seein the distance a long line of white, plunging foam rushing towardus, --sure indication, to a sailor's eye, of a stormy time. A gloomoverhung every thing; the banks of cloud seemed to settle around us; themoan of the ocean grew louder and more fearful. Still our little boatpushed doggedly on: victorious through all, we thought that here, too, she would conquer, though the beating waves sent shudders through herwhole frame. 6. An hour passed; the air below, which had all day been increasing incloseness, was now almost stifling; but our men lost no courage. Somesang as they worked; and the cadence of their voices, mingling with theroar of waters, sounded like a defiance to Ocean. Some stationedthemselves on top of the turret, and a general enthusiasm filled allbreasts, as huge waves, twenty feet high, rose up on all sides, hungsuspended for a moment like jaws open to devour, and then, breaking, gnashed over in foam from side to side. 7. Those of us new to the sea, and not apprehending our peril, hurrahedfor the largest wave; but the captain and one or two others, oldsailors, knowing its power, grew momentarily more and more--anxious, feeling, with a dread instinctive to the sailor, that, in case ofextremity, no wreck yet known to ocean, could be so hopeless as this. Solid iron from keelson to turret-top, clinging to any thing for safety, if the "Monitor" should go down, would only insure a share in her fate. No mast. , no spar, no floating thing, to meet the outstretched hand inthe last moment. 8. The sea gathered force from each attack. Thick and fast came theblows on the iron mail of the "Monitor, " and still the brave littlevessel held her own, until, at half-past eight, the engineer, faithfulto the end, reported a leak. The pumps were instantly set in motion, andwe watched their progress with an intense interest. She had seemed tous like an old-time knight, in armor, battling against fearful odds, butstill holding his ground. We who watched, when the blow came which madethe strong man reel and the life-blood spout, felt our hearts faintwithin us; then, again, ground was gained, and the fight went on, thewater lowering somewhat under the laboring pumps. 9. From nine to ten it kept pace with them. From ten to eleven the seaincreased in violence, the waves now dashing entirely over the turret, blinding the eyes, and causing quick catchings of the breath, as theyswept against us. At ten the engineer had reported the leak as gainingon us; at half-past ten, with several pumps in constant motion, one ofwhich threw out three thousand gallons a minute, the water was risingrapidly, and nearing the fires. When these were reached, the vessel'sdoom was sealed; for, with their extinction, the pumps must cease, andall hope of keeping the "Monitor" above water more than an hour or two, expired. 10. Our knight had received his death-blow, and lay struggling andhelpless under the power of a stronger than he. A consultation washeld, and, not without a conflict of fueling, it was decided thatsignals of distress should be made. Ocean claimed our little vessel, andher trembling frame and failing fire proved she would soon answer hiscall; yet a pang went through us, as we thought of the first iron-cladlying alone at the bottom of this stormy sea, her guns silenced, herselfa useless mass of metal. Each quiver of her strong frame seemed to pleadwith us not to abandon her. 11. The work she _had_ done, the work she _was_ to do, rose before us:might there not be a possibility of saving her yet? Her time could nothave come so soon. But we who descended for a moment to the cabin, knew, by the rising-water through which we waded, that the end was near. Smalltime was there for regrets. Rockets were thrown up, and answered by the"Rhode Island, " whose brave men prepared at once to lower boats, though, in that wild sea, it was almost madness. 12. The "Monitor" had been attached to the "Rhode Island" by twohawsers, one of which had parted at about seven P. M. The other remainedfirm; but now it was necessary it should be cut. How was that possible, when every wave washed clean over the deck? What man could reach italive? "Who'll cut the hawser?" shouted Captain Bankhead. Acting masterStodder volunteered, and was followed by another. Holding by one hand tothe ropes at her side, they cut through, by many blows of the hatchet, the immense rope which united the vessels. Stodder returned in safety, but his brave companion was washed over, and went down. 13. Meanwhile the boat launched from the "Rhode Island, " had started, manned by a crew of picked men. A mere heroic impulse could not haveaccomplished this most noble deed. For hours they had watched the ragingsea. Their captain and _they_ knew the danger; every man who enteredthat boat, did it at the peril of his life; and yet all were ready. Arenot such acts as these convincing proofs of the divinity of humannature'? We watched her with straining eyes; for few thought she couldlive to reach us. She neared; we were sure of her, thank Heaven! 14. In this interval, the cut hawser had become entangled in thepaddle-wheel of the "Rhode Island, " and she drifted down upon us; we, not knowing this fact, supposed her coming to our assistance; but amoment undeceived us. The launch sent to our relief was now between usand her, --too near for safety. The steamer bore swiftly down, sternfirst, upon our starboard quarter. "_Keep off! keep off!_" we cried, andthen first saw she was helpless. 15. Even as we looked, the devoted boat was caught between the steamerand the iron-clad, --a sharp sound of crushing wood was heard, --thwarts, oars, and splinters flew in air, --the boat's crew leaped to the"Monitor's" deck, Death stared us in the face; our iron prow must gothrough the Rhode Island's side, --and then an end to all. One awfulmoment we held our breath, --then the hawser was cleared, --the steamermoved off, as it were, step by step, first one, then another, till aship's length lay between us, and then we breathed freely. 16. But the boat!--had she gone to the bottom, carrying brave souls withher? No; there she lay, beating against our iron sides; but still, though bruised and broken, a lifeboat to us. There was no hasty scramblefor life when it was found she floated, --all held back. The men keptsteady on at their work of bailing, --only those leaving, and in theorder named, whom the captain bade save themselves. They descended fromthe turret to the deck with mingled fear and hope, for the waves torefrom side to side, and the coolest head and bravest heart could notguaranty safety. Some were washed over as they left the turret, and, with a vain clutch at the iron deck, a wild throwing up of the arms, went down, their death-cry ringing in the ears of their companions. 17. The boat sometimes held her place by the "Monitor's" side, then wasdashed hopelessly out of reach, rising and falling on the waves. Asailor would spring from the deck to reach her, to be seen for a momentin mid-air, and then, as she rose, fall into her. So she graduallyfilled up; but some poor souls who sought to reach her, failed, even asthey touched her receding sides, and went down. We had a littlemessenger-boy, the special charge of one of our sailors, and the pet ofall; he must inevitably have been lost, but for the care of his adoptedfather, who, holding him firmly in his arms, escaped, as by a miracle, being washed overboard, but finally succeeded in placing him safely inthe boat. 18. The last but one to make the desperate venture, was the surgeon; heleaped from the deck, at the very instant when the boat was being sweptaway by the merciless sea. Making one final effort, he threw his bodyforward as he fell, striking across the boat's side so violently, it wasthought some of his ribs must be broken. "_Haul the Doctor in!_" shoutedLieutenant Greene, perhaps remembering how, a little time back, hehimself, almost gone down in the unknown sea, had been "hauled in" by aquinine rope flung him by the Doctor. Stout sailor-arms pulled him in;one more sprang to a place in her, and the boat, now full, pushedoff, --in a sinking condition, it is true, but still bearing hope withher, for _she was wood_. 19. Over the waves we made little progress, though pulling for life. Themen stuffed their pea-jackets into the leaks, and bailed incessantly. Weneared the "Rhode Island;" but now a new peril appeared. Eight down uponour center, borne by the might of the rushing water, came the whale-boatsent to rescue others from the iron-clad. We barely floated; if shestruck us with her bows full on us, we must go to the bottom. Onesprang, and, as she neared, with outstretched arms, met and turned hercourse. She passed against us, and his hand, caught between the twoboats, was crushed, and the arm, wrenched from its socket, fell ahelpless weight against his side; but life remained. We were saved, andan arm was a small price to pay for life. 20. We reached the "Rhode Island;" ropes were flung over her side, andcaught with a death-grip. Some lost their hold, were washed away, andagain dragged in by the boat's crew. What chance had one whose right armhung a dead weight, when strong men with their two hands, went downbefore him? He caught at a rope, found it impossible to save himselfalone, and then for the first time said, --"I am injured; can any onehelp me?" Ensign Taylor, at the risk of his own life, brought the ropearound his shoulder in such a way that it could not slip, and he wasdrawn up in safety. 21. In the mean time, the whale-boat, which had nearly caused ourdestruction, had reached the side of the "Monitor;" and now the captainsaid, "It is madness to remain here longer: let each man save himself. "For a moment, he descended to the cabin for a coat, and his faithfulservant followed to secure a jewel-box, containing the accumulatedtreasure of years. A sad, sorry sight it was! In the heavy air the lampsburned dimly, and the water, waist-deep, splashed sullenly against thesides of the wardroom. One lingering look, and he left the "Monitor's"cabin forever! 22. Time was precious; he hastened to the deck, where, in the midst of aterrible sea, Lieutenant Greene nobly held his post. He seized the ropefrom the whale-boat, wound it about an iron stanchion, then around hiswrists, and, by this means, was drawn aboard the boat. Thus, one by one, watching their time between the waves, the men filled in, and, at last, after making all effort for others, and none for themselves, CaptainBankhead and Lieutenant Greene took their places in the boat The gallantBrown pushed off, and soon laid his boat-load safe upon the "RhodeIsland's" deck. 23. Here the heartiest and most tender reception met us. Our drenchedclothing was replaced by warm and dry garments, and all on board viedwith each other in acts of kindness. The only one who had received anyinjury, Surgeon Weeks, [Footnote: The writer of this account. ] wascarefully attended to, the dislocated arm set, and the crushed fingersamputated, by the gentlest and most considerate of surgeons, Dr. Webber, of the "Rhode Island. " 24. For an hour or more we watched, from the deck of the steamer, thelonely light upon the "Monitor's" turrets; a hundred times we thought itgone forever, --a hundred times it reappeared, till, at last, about twoo'clock, Wednesday morning, December 31st, it sank, and we saw it nomore. An actor in the scenes of that wild night, when the "Monitor" wentdown, relates the story of her last cruise. _Her_ work is now over. Shelies a hundred fathoms deep under the stormy-waters off Cape Hatteras;but she has made herself a name, which will not soon be forgotten by theAmerican people. QUESTIONS. --1. When and where was the Monitor lost? 2. What signalservice had she rendered? 3. Who was the writer of this account? * * * * * LESSON XC. RE SPON SI BIL' I TIES, obligations. LA' TENT, secret; hidden. IN IQ' UI TY, wickedness. EF FECT' IVE, powerful; efficient. REC' TI TUDE, right. PEN' E TRA TIVE, entering; piercing. MAL' ICE, ill-will; hatred. CHIV' AL RY, heroism; valor. WAN' TON LY, wastefully. SHEEN, brightness. SHIM' MER, glitter; gleam. RE VER' SION, future possession. IN SID' I OUS, crafty; deceitful. A THWART', across. SUS' TE NANCE, food; support. IM POS' ED, laid on; assigned. DUTIES AND RESPONSIBILITIES OF WOMAN. GAIL HAMILTON. 1. Oh, if this latent power could be aroused! If woman would shake offthis slumber, and put on her strength, her beautiful garments, how wouldshe go forth conquering and to conquer! How would the mountains breakforth into singing, and the trees of the field clap their hands! Howwould our sin-stained earth arise and shine, her light being come, andthe glory of the Lord being risen upon her! 2. One can not do the _world's_ work; but one can do _one's_ work. Youmay not be able to turn the world from iniquity; but you can, at least, keep the dust and rust from gathering on your own soul. If you can notbe directly and actively engaged in fighting the battle, you can, atleast, polish your armor and sharpen your weapons, to strike aneffective blow when the hour comes. You can stanch the blood of him whohas been wounded in the fray, --bear a cup of cold water to the thirstyand fainting, --give help to the conquered, and smiles to the victor. 3. You can gather from the past and the present stores of wisdom, sothat, when the future demands it, you may bring forth from yourtreasures things new and old. Whatever of bliss the "Divinity thatshapes our ends" may see fit to withhold from you, you are but verylittle lower than the angels, so long as you have the "Godlike power to do, --the godlike aim to know. " 4. You can be forming habits of self-reliance, sound judgment, perseverance, and endurance, which may, one day, stand you in goodstead. You can so train yourself to right thinking and right acting, that uprightness shall be your nature, truth your impulse. His head isseldom far wrong, whose heart is always right. We bow down to mentalgreatness, intellectual strength, and they are divine gifts; but _moralrectitude_ is stronger than they. It is irresistible, --always in theend triumphant. 5. There is in _goodness_ a penetrative power that nothing canwithstand. Cunning and malice melt away before its mild, open, steadyglance. Not alone on the fields where chivalry charges for laurels, withhelmet and breastplate and lance in rest, can the true knight exultinglyexclaim, "My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure;" but wherever man meets man, wherever there is a prize to be won, a goalto be reached. Wealth, and rank, and beauty, may form a brilliantsetting to the diamond; but they only expose more nakedly the falseglare of the paste. Only when the king's daughter is all gloriouswithin, is it fitting and proper that her clothing should be of wroughtgold. 6. From the great and good of all ages rings out the same monotone. Thehigh-priest of Nature, the calm-eyed poet who laid his heart so close tohers, that they seemed to throb in one pulsation, yet whose ear wasalways open to the "still sad music of humanity, " has given us thepromise of his life-long wisdom in these grand words:-- "True dignity abides with him alone Who, in the silent hour of inward thought, Can still suspect and still revere himself. " 7. Through the din of twenty rolling centuries, pierces the sharp, sternvoice of the brave old Greek: "_Let every man, when he is about to do awicked action, above all things in the world, stand in awe of himself, and dread the witness within him. _" All greatness, and all glory, allthat earth has to give, all that Heaven can proffer, lies within thereach of the lowliest as well as the highest; for He who spake as neverman spake, has said that the very "kingdom of God is within you. " 8. Born to such an inheritance, will you wantonly cast it away? Withsuch a goal in prospect, will you suffer yourself to be turned aside bythe sheen and shimmer of tinsel fruit? With earth in possession, andHeaven in reversion, will you go sorrowing and downcast, because hereand there a pearl or ruby fails you? Nay, rather forgetting those thingswhich are behind, and reaching forth unto those which are before, _pressforward_! 9. Discontent and murmuring are insidious foes; trample them under yourfeet. Utter no complaint, whatever betide; for complaining is a sign ofweakness. If your trouble can be helped, _help it_; if not, _bear it_. You can be whatever you _will_ to be. Therefore, form and accomplishworthy purposes. 10. If you walk alone, let it be with no faltering tread. Show to anincredulous world "How grand may be Life's might, Without Love's circling crown. " Or, if the golden thread of love shine athwart the dusky warp of duty, if other hearts depend on yours for sustenance and strength, give tothem from your fullness no stinted measure. Let the dew of your kindnessfall on the evil and the good, on the just and on the unjust. 11. Compass happiness, since happiness alone is victory. On thefragments of your shattered plans, and hopes, and love, --on theheaped-up ruins of your past, rear a stately palace, whose top shallreach unto heaven, whose beauty shall gladden the eyes of all beholders, whose doors shall stand wide open to receive the way-worn and weary. Life is a burden, but it is imposed by God. What you _make_ of it, itwill _be_ to you, whether a millstone about your neck, or a diadem uponyour brow. _Take it up bravely, bear it on joyfully, lay it downtriumphantly. _ QUESTIONS. --1. What are some of the duties of women? 2. What is said ofgoodness? 3. What was the adage of the old Greek? 4. What is said ofdiscontent and murmuring? * * * * * LESSON XCI. ID' I OT, one devoid of reason. HOR' RI BLE, awful; dreadful. WOE' FUL, afflicted. HAR' ROW, disturb; harass. PRE SERVE', safely keep. SOOTH, fact; truth. SPOIL' ED, stripped; plundered. YEARN' ING, longing. IN SUF' FER A BLE, intolerable. CAN' TON, district; region. PAS TIME, amusement; diversion. ES PI' ED, saw; discovered. MOUNT AIN EER', dweller on a mountain. BRAWN' Y, strong; firm. FAG OTS, bundles of sticks. AUG MENT', increase; make larger. BEA' CON, signal-fire. BE TIDE', happen; befall. SCENE FROM WILLIAM TELL. J. SHERIDAN KNOWLES. _Emma. _ I never knew a weary night before! I have seen the sun a dozen times go down, And still no William, --and the storm was on, Yet have I laid me down in peace to sleep, The mountain with the lightning all a-blaze, And shaking with the thunder, --but to-night Mine eyes refuse to close, (_sl. _) The old man rests: Pain hath outworn itself, and turned to ease. How deadly calm's the night! (_''_) What's that? I'm grown An idiot with my fears. I do not know, -- The avalanche! Great Power that hurls it down, Watch o'er my boy, and guide his little steps! What keeps him? 'tis but four hours' journey hence: He'd rest; then four hours back again. _What keeps him?_ Erni would sure be found by him, --he knows The track, well as he knows the road to Altorf! _Melchtal_. Help! (_in his sleep_. ) _Emma_. What's the matter? Only the old man dreaming. He thinks again they're pulling out his eyes. I'm sick with terror! Merciful powers! what's this That fills my heart with horrible alarm? And yet it can not see. _Melch_. (_waking_) Where am I? _Emma_. Father! _Melch_. My daughter, is it thou'! Thank Heaven, I'm here! Is't day yet'? _Emma_. No'. _Melch_. Is't far on the night'? _Emma_. Methinks, about the turn on't. _Melch_. Is the boy Come back'? _Emma_. No', father'. _Melch_. Nor thy husband'? _Emma_. No'. _Melch_. A woeful wife and mother have I made thee! Would thou hadst never seen me. _Emma_. Father'! _Melch_. Child'! _Emma_. Methinks I hear a step !--I do! (_knocking_. ) A knock! _Melch_. 'Tis William! _Emma_. No; it is not William's knock. (_Opens the door_. ) I told you so. Your will? _Enter_ STRANGER. _Stran_. Seeing a light, I e'en made bold to knock, to ask for shelter; For I have missed my way. _Emma_. Whence come you` friend'? _Stran_. From Altorf. _Emma_. Altorf'! Any news from thence'? _Stran_. Ay`! News to harrow parents' hearts, and make The barren bless themselves that they are childless! _Emma_. May Heaven preserve my boy! _Melch_. What say'st thy news? _Stran_. Art thou not Melchtal--he whose eyes, 'tis said, The tyrant has torn out'? _Melch_. Yes`, friend', the same. _Stran_. Is this thy cottage'? _Melch_. No`; 'tis William Tell's. _Stran_. 'Tis William Tell's--and that's his wife--Goodnight. _Emma_. (_Rushing between him and the door_. ) Thou stirr'st not hence until thy news be told! _Stran_. My news! In sooth 'tis nothing thou would'st heed. _Emma_. 'Tis something none should heed so well as I! _Stran_. I must be gone, _Emma_. Thou seest a tigress, friend, Spoiled of her mate and young, and yearning for them. Don't thwart her! Come, thy news! What fear'st thou, man? What more hath she to dread, who reads thy looks, And knows the most has come? Thy news! Is't bondage'? _Stran_. It is. _Emma_. Thank Heaven, it is not death! Of one--Or two? _Stran_. Of two. _Emma_. A father and a son, Is't not? _Stran_. It is. _Emma_. My husband and my son Are in the tyrant's power! There's worse than that! What's that is news to harrow parents' breasts. The which the thought to only tell, 'twould seem, Drives back the blood to thine?--Thy news, I say! Wouldst thou be merciful, this is not mercy! Wast thou the mark, friend, of the bowman's aim. Wouldst thou not hare the fatal arrow speed, Rather than watch it hanging in the string? Thou'lt drive me mad! Let fly at once! _Melch_. Thy news from Altorf, friend, whatever it is! _Stran_. To save himself and child from certain death, Tell is to hit an apple, to be placed Upon the stripling's head. _Melch_. My child! my child! Speak to me! Stranger, hast thou killed her? _Emma_. No! No`, father'. I'm the wife of William Tell; Oh, but to be a man!--to have an arm To fit a heart swelling with the sense of wrong! Unnatural--insufferable wrong! When makes the tyrant trial of his skill? _Stran_. To-morrow. _Emma_. Spirit of the lake and hill, Inspire thy daughter! On the head of him Who makes his pastime of a mother's pangs, Launch down thy vengeance by a mother's hand. Know'st the signal when the hills shall rise'? (_To Melchtal. _) _Melch_. Are they to rise'? _Emma_. I see thou knowest naught. _Stran_. Something's on foot! 'Twas only yesterday, That, traveling from our canton, I espied Slow toiling up a steep, a mountaineer Of brawny limb, upon his back a load Of fagots bound. Curious to see what end Was worthy of such labor, after him I took the cliff; and saw its lofty top Receive his load, which went but to augment A pile of many another. _Emma_. 'Tis by fire! Fire is the signal for the hills to rise! (_Rushes out_. ) _Melch_. Went she not forth! _Stran_. She did, --she's here again, And brings with her a lighted brand. _Melch_. My child, What dost thou with a lighted brand? (_Re-enter_ EMMA _with a brand_. ) _Emma_. Prepare To give the signal for the hills to rise! _Melch_. Where are the fagots, child, for such a blaze? _Emma_. I'll find the fagots, father. (_Exit_. ) _Melch_. She's gone Again! _Stran_. She is, --I think into her chamber. _Emma_. (_Rushing in_. )--Father, the pile is fired! _Melch_. What pile, my child! _Emma_. The joists and rafters of our cottage, father! _Melch_. Thou hast not fired thy cottage?--but thou hast; Alas, I hear the crackling of the flames! _Emma_. Say'st thou, alas! when I do say, thank Heaven. Father, this blaze will set the land a-blaze With fire that shall preserve, and not destroy it. (_f_. ) _Blaze on!_ BLAZE ON! Oh, may'st thou be a beacon To light its sons enslaved to liberty! How fast it spreads! A spirit's in the fire: It knows the work it does. --(_Goes to the door, and opens it_. ) The land is free! Yonder's another blaze! Beyond that, shoots Another up!--Anon will every hill Redden with vengeance! Father, come! Whate'er Betides us, worse we're certain can't befall, And better may! Oh, be it liberty, Safe hearts and homes, husbands and children! Come, -- It spreads apace. (_ff_. ) Blaze on--_blaze on_--BLAZE ON! QUESTIONS. --1. What rule for the rising inflection on _father_? See NoteI. , page 32. 2. What rule for the falling inflection on _no_? See RuleI. , page 28. * * * * * LESSON XCII. HON' OR A BLE, noble; illustrious. IN' TEL LECT, mind; understanding. SCORE, account; motive. CLEV' ER, skillful; expert. SO' CIAL, familiar. CON FU' SION, fuss; tumult. CON DE SCEN' SION, loveliness; deference. COM PRE HEN' SION, understanding. [Headnote 1: CROE SUS, a very wealthy king of ancient Lydia, in AsiaMinor, was born about 591 before Christ. ] THE RICH MAN AND THE POOR MAN. KHEMNITZER. 1. So goes the world`;--if wealthy, you may call _This_--friend, _that_--brother`;--friends and brothers all Though you are worthless, witless, --never mind it; You may have been a stable-boy, --what then? 'Tis _wealth_, my friends, makes _honorable_ men. You seek respect, no doubt, and you will find it. 2. But, if you are poor', heaven help you`! though your sire Had royal blood in him`, and though you Possess the intellect of angels too. 'Tis all in vain`;--the world will ne'er inquire On such a score`:--why should it take the pains? 'Tis easier to weigh purses`, sure, than brains'. 3. I once saw a poor fellow, keen and clever. Witty and wise`; he paid a man a visit, And no one noticed him', and no one ever Gave him a welcome`. "Strange`, " cried I', "whence is it`?" He walked on this side', then on that`, He tried to introduce a social chat`; Now here', now there`, in vain he tried`; Some formally and freezingly replied, And some said by their silence, --"Better stay at home. " 4. A rich man burst the door, As Croesus [Headnote 1] rich;--I'm sure He could not pride himself upon his wit`; And, as for wisdom, he had none of it`; He had what's better`, --he had wealth. What a confusion!--all stand up erect, -- These crowd around to ask him of his health; These bow in _honest_ duty and respect; And these arrange a sofa or a chair, And these conduct him there. "Allow me, sir, the honor`;"--Then a bow Down to the earth`. --_Is't_ possible to show Meet gratitude for such kind condescension`! 5. The poor man hung his head, And to himself he said, "This is indeed beyond my comprehension:" Then looking round, one friendly face he found, And said, --"Pray tell me why is wealth preferred "To wisdom?"--"That's a silly question, friend!" Replied the other, --"have you never heard. A man may lend his store Of gold or silver ore, But wisdom none can borrow, none can lend?" QUESTIONS. --1. How do you account for the different inflections in thelast line of the second verse? See page 31, Note I. 2. What rule for thefalling inflection on _condescension_? See page 29, Note I. * * * * * LESSON XCIII. EX HI BI' TIONS, displays. CIR CUM SCRIB' ED, encompassed. NA' VIES, ships of war. ARM' A MENTS, forces equipped for war. IM PED' ED, hindered, obstructed. LE VI' A THAN, huge sea-monster. MAG NIF' I CENCE, grandeur. UN A BAT' ED, undiminished. RE SERV' ED, kept. EN TRANC' ED, enraptured. PROM' ON TO RY, headland. RE VEAL'ED, laid open. SYM' BOL, token; sign. AD A MAN TINE, exceedingly hard. AP PER TAIN' ING, belonging. TRANS FORM' ING, changing. [Headnote 1: AC' TI UM is the ancient name of a promontory of Albania, in Turkey in Europe, near which was fought (B. C. 29) the celebratednaval battle that made Augustus Caesar master of the Roman world. ] [Headnote 2: SAL' A MIS, an island opposite Attica, in Greece, nearwhich (B. C. 480) occurred the famous naval engagement which resulted inthe defeat of the Persians. ] [Headnote 3: NAV A RI' NO is a seaport town on the southwestern coast ofGreece. It was the scene of the memorable victory of the combinedEnglish, French, and Russian fleets over those of the Turks andEgyptians, gained on the 20th of October, 1827. ] [Headnote 4: TRA FAL GAR', a cape on the southwestern coast of Spain. It is famous for the great naval battle, fought in its vicinity, Oct. 21st, 1805, between the fleets of the French and Spanish on theone side, and the English, under Lord Nelson, on the other. The Englishwere victorious, though Nelson was mortally wounded. ] GRANDEUR OF THE OCEAN. WALTER COLTON. 1. The most fearful and impressive exhibitions of power known to ourglobe, belong to the ocean. The volcano, with its ascending flame andfalling torrents of fire, and the earthquake, whose footstep is on theruin of cities, are circumscribed in the desolating range of theirvisitations. But the ocean, when it once rouses itself in its chainlessstrength, shakes a thousand shores with its storm and thunder. Navies ofoak and iron are tossed in mockery from its crest, and armaments, mannedby the strength and courage of millions, perish among its bubbles. 2. The avalanche, shaken from its glittering steep, if it rolls to thebosom of the earth, melts away, and is lost in vapor; but if it plungeinto the embrace of the ocean, this mountain mass of ice and hail isborne about for ages in tumult and terror; it is the drifting monumentof the ocean's dead. The tempest on land is impeded by forests, andbroken by mountains; but on the plain of the deep it rushes unresisted;and when its strength is at last spent, ten thousand giant waves stillroll its terrors onward. 3. The mountain lake and the meadow stream are inhabited only by thetimid prey of the angler; but the ocean is the home of theleviathan, --his ways are in the mighty deep. The glittering pebble andthe rainbow-tinted shell, which the returning tide has left on theshore, and the watery gem which the pearl-diver reaches at the peril ofhis life, are all that man can filch from the treasures of the sea. Thegroves of coral which wave over its pavements, and the halls of amberwhich glow in its depths, are beyond his approaches, save when he goesdown there to seek, amid their silent magnificence, his burial monument. 4. The islands, the continents, the shores of civilized and savagerealms, the capitals of kings, are worn by time, washed away by thewave, consumed by the flame, or sunk by the earthquake; but the oceanstill remains, and still rolls on in the greatness of its unabatedstrength. Over the majesty of its form and the marvel of its might, timeand disaster have no power. Such as creation's dawn beheld, it rollethnow. 5. The vast clouds of vapor which roll up from its bosom, float away toencircle the globe: on distant mountains and deserts they pour out theirwatery treasures, which gather themselves again in streams and torrents, to return, with exulting bounds, to their parent ocean. These are themessengers which proclaim in every land the exhaustless resources of thesea; but it is reserved for those who go down in ships, and who dobusiness in the great waters, to see the works of the Lord and Hiswonders in the deep. 6. Let one go upon deck in the middle watch of a still night, withnaught above him but the silent and solemn skies, and naught around andbeneath him but an interminable waste of waters, and with the convictionthat there is but a plank between him and eternity, a feeling ofloneliness, solitude, and desertion, mingled with a sentiment ofreverence for the vast, mysterious and unknown, will come upon him witha power, all unknown before, and he might stand for hours entranced inreverence and tears. 7. Man, also, has made the ocean the theater of _his_ power. The ship inwhich he rides that element, is one of the highest triumphs of hisskill. At first, this floating fabric was only a frail bark, slowlyurged by the laboring oar. The sail, at length, arose and spread itswings to the wind. Still he had no power to direct his course when thelofty promontory sunk from sight, or the orbs above him were lost inclouds. But the secret of the magnet is, at length, revealed to him, andhis needle now settles, with a fixedness which love has stolen as thesymbol of its constancy, to the polar star. 8. Now, however, he can dispense even with sail, and wind, and flowingwave. He constructs and propels his vast engines of flame and vapor, and, through the solitude of the sea, as over the solid land, goesthundering on his track. On the ocean, too, thrones have been lost andwon. On the fate of Actium [Headnote 1] was suspended the empire of theworld. In the gulf of Salamis, [Headnote 2] the pride of Persia found agrave; and the crescent set forever in the waters of Navarino;[Headnote3] while, at Trafalgar [Headnote 4] and the Nile, nations held theirbreath, As each gun, From its adamantine lips, Spread a death-shade round the ships Like the hurricane's eclipse Of the sun. 9. But, of all the wonders appertaining to the ocean, the greatest, perhaps, is its transforming power on man. It unravels and weaves anewthe web of his moral and social being. It invests him with feelings, associations, and habits, to which he has been an entire stranger. Itbreaks up the sealed fountain of his nature, and lifts his soul intofeatures prominent as the cliffs which beetle over its surge. 10. Once the adopted child of the ocean, he can never bring back hisentire sympathies to land. He will still move in his dreams over thatvast waste of waters, still bound in exultation and triumph through itsfoaming billows. All the other realities of life will be comparativelytame, and he will sigh for his tossing element, as the caged eagle forthe roar and arrowy light of his mountain cataract. QUESTIONS. --1. What is said of the volcano and earthquake? 2. Of theavalanche and tempest? 3. Of the ocean? 4. Of ships? 5. Where havenaval battles been fought? 6. What influence has the ocean on man? * * * * * LESSON XCIV. RE LAX' ED, loosened. AS SI DU' I TIES, kind, constant attentions. CON SIGN' ED, committed; given over. EX TE' RI OR, outer appearance. UN AF FECT' ED, sincere. UN PRE TEND' ING, unostentatious. HA BIL' I MENTS, vestments. SU PER STI' TIOUS, full of scruples. REC' ON CILE, make willing. PEN' E TRATES, sees through. PER VADE', (PER, _through_; VADE, _go_, or _pass_;) pass through; appear throughout. A BURIAL AT SEA. WALTER COLTON. 1. Death is a fearful thing, come in what form it may, --fearful, whenthe vital chords are so gradually relaxed, that life passes away sweetlyas music from the slumbering harp-string, --fearful, when in his ownquiet chamber, the departing one is summoned by those who sweetly followhim with their prayers, when the assiduities of friendship and affectioncan go no farther, and who discourse of heaven and future blessedness, till the closing ear can no longer catch the tones of the long-familiarvoice, and who, lingering near, still feel for the hushed pulse, andthen trace in the placid slumber, which pervades each feature, a quietemblem of the spirit's serene repose. 2. What, then, must this dread event be to one, who meets itcomparatively alone, far away from the hearth of his home, upon atroubled sea, between the narrow decks of a restless ship, and at thatdread hour of night, when even the sympathies of the world seemsuspended! Such has been the end of many who traverse the ocean; andsuch was the hurried end of him, whose remains we have just consigned toa watery grave. 3. He was a sailor; but, beneath his rude exterior, he carried a hearttouched with refinement, pride, and greatness. There was something abouthim, which spoke of better days and a higher destiny. By what errors ormisfortunes he was reduced to his humble condition, was a secret whichhe would reveal to none. Silent, reserved, and thoughtful, he stood astranger among his free companions, and never was his voice heard in thelaughter or the jest. He has undoubtedly left behind many who will longlook for his return, and bitterly weep when they are told they shall seehis face no more. 4. As the remains of the poor sailor were brought up on deck, wound inthat hammock which, through many a stormy night, had swung to the wind, one could not but observe the big tear that stole unconsciously down therough cheeks of his hardy companions. When the funeral service was readto that most affecting passage, "we commit this body to the deep, " andthe plank was raised which precipitated to the momentary eddy of thewave the quickly disappearing form, a heavy sigh from those around, toldthat the strong heart of the sailor can be touched with grief, and thata truly unaffected sorrow may accompany virtue, in its most unpretendingform, to its ocean grave. Yet how soon is such a scene forgotten! "As from the wing the sky no scar retains, The parted wave no furrow from the keel, So dies in human hearts the thought of death. " 5. There is something peculiarly melancholy and impressive in a burialat sea: there is here no coffin or hearse, procession or tollingbell, --nothing that gradually prepares us for the final separation. Thebody is wound in the drapery of its couch, much as if the deceased wereonly in a quiet and temporary sleep. In these habiliments of seemingslumber, it is dropped into the wave, the waters close over it, thevessel passes quickly on, and not a solitary trace is left to tell wheresunk from light and life, one that loved to look at the sky and breathethis vital air. 6. There is nothing that, for one moment, can point to the deep, unvisited resting-place of the departed, --it is a grave in the midst ofthe ocean, --in the midst of a vast, untrodden solitude. Affection cannot approach it, with its tears; the dews of heaven can not reach it;and there is around it no violet, or shrub, or murmuring stream. 7. It may be superstitious; but no advantages of wealth, or honor, orpower, through life, would reconcile me at its close to such a burial. Iwould rather share the coarse and scanty provisions of the simplestcabin, and drop away unknown and unhonored by the world, so that myfinal resting-place be beneath some green tree, by the side of someliving stream, or in some familiar spot, where the few that loved me inlife, might visit me in death. 8. But, whether our grave be in the fragrant shade, or in the fathomlessocean, among our kindred, or in the midst of strangers, the day iscoming when we shall all appear at one universal bar, and receive from arighteous Judge the award of our deeds. He that is wisest, penetratesthe future the deepest. QUESTIONS. --1. What is said of death? 2. What, of death at sea?3. What renders a burial at sea peculiarly melancholy and impressive? * * * * * LESSON XCV. MYS TE' RI OUS, secret; mystical. UN RECK' ED, unheeded. AR' GO SIES, ships of great burden. WR ATH' FUL, furious; raging. PAL' A CES, splendid mansions. SCORN' FUL, disdainful. DE CAY', ruin; destruction. BOOM' ING, roaring. FES' TAL, joyous; merry. RE CLAIM', claim again; recover. THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP. MRS. HERMANS. 1. What hid'st thou in thy treasure-caves and cells? Thou hollow-sounding and mysterious main! Pale, glistening pearls, and rainbow-colored shells, Bright things which gleam unrecked of, and in vain! Keep, keep thy riches, melancholy sea! We ask not such from thee. 2. Yet more, the depths have more! what wealth untold, Far down, and shining through their stillness lies! Thou hast the starry gems, the burning gold, Won from ten thousand royal argosies! Sweep o'er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful main! Earth claims not _these_ again. 3. Yet more, the depths have more! thy waves have rolled Above the cities of a world gone by! Sand hath filled up the palaces of old, Sea-weed o'ergrown the halls of revelry. Dash o'er them, Ocean! in thy scornful play! Man yields them to decay. 4. Yet more, the billows and the depths have more! High hearts and brave are gathered to thy breast! They hear not now the booming waters roar; The battle-thunders will not break their rest. Keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave! Give back the true and brave! 5. Give back the lost and lovely, --those for whom The place was kept at board and hearth so long, The prayer went up through midnight's breathless gloom, And the vain yearning woke 'midst festal song! Hold fast thy buried isles, thy towers o'erthrown; But all is not thine own. 6. To thee the love of woman hath gone down; Dark flow thy tides o'er manhood's noble head, O'er youth's bright locks, and beauty's flowery crown, Yet must thou hear a voice, --_Restore the dead!_ Earth shall reclaim her precious things from thee! _Restore the dead, thou Sea!_ QUESTIONS. --1. What are some of the treasures of the deep? 2. Whattreasures has the sea won from trading vessels? 3. Over what does thesea roll? 4. What does the writer call on the sea to restore? * * * * * LESSON XCVI. UN FOR' TU NATE, wretched person. CER E MENTS, grave-clothes. SCRU' TI NY, inquiry. MU' TI NY, resistance to rightful rule. WON' DER MENT, curiosity. PROV' I DENCE, care; protection. A MAZE' MENT, astonishment. DIS' SO LUTE, abandoned; licentious. SPUR' RED, pushed on; impelled. CON' TU ME LY, scorn; insult. IN HU MAN' I TY, cruel treatment. IN SAN' I TY, madness. THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS. THOMAS HOOD. 1. One more Unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate, Gone to her death! 2. Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care, Fashioned so slenderly, Young, and so fair! 3. Look at her garments Clinging like cerements; While the wave constantly Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing. 4. Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of her; All that remains of her Now, is pure womanly. 5. Make no deep scrutiny Into her mutiny, Rash and undutiful; Past all dishonor, Death has left on her Only the beautiful. 6. Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb, -- Her fair auburn tresses; While wonderment guesses Where was her home? 7. Who was her father`? Who was her mother`? Had she a sister'? Had she a brother'? Or, was there a dearer one Still, and a nearer one Yet, than all other'? 8. Alas! for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun! Oh! it was pitiful! Near a whole city full, Home she had none. 9. Sisterly, brotherly, Fatherly, motherly, Feelings had changed: Love, by harsh evidence, Thrown from its eminence; Even God's providence Seeming estranged. 10. Where the lamps quiver So far in the river, With many a light From window and casement, From garret to basement, She stood with amazement, Houseless by night. 11. The bleak winds of March Made her tremble and shiver But not the dark arch, Or the black flowing river, Mad from life's history, Glad to death's mystery, Swift to be hurled-- Anywhere, anywhere, Out of the world! 12. In she plunged boldly, No matter how coldly The rough river ran-- Picture it--think of it, Dissolute Man! 13. Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care, Fashioned so slenderly, Young, and so fair! 14. Perishing gloomily, Spurred by contumely, Cold inhumanity, Burning insanity, Into her rest, Cross her hands humbly, As if praying dumbly, Over her breast! 15. Owning her weakness, Her evil behavior, And leaving, with meekness, Her sins to her Savior! * * * * * LESSON XCVII. RE' QUI EM, hymn in honor of the dead. WED, joined; united. HENCE' FORTH, hereafter. DROOP, languish; fail. AF FEC TION, love. DIM' MED, dull; obscured. A REQUIEM. 1. Breathe low, thou gentle wind, (pl) Breathe soft and low; The beautiful lies dead! The joy of life is fled! And my lone heart is wed Henceforth to woe! 2. That thou should'st droop and die At early morn! While yet thy graceful dew A joyous fragrance drew From every flower that grew Life's path along! 3. The green earth mourns for thee, Thou dearest one; A plaintive tone is heard, And flower and leaflet stirred, And every fav'rite bird Sings sad and lone. 4. Pale is thy brow, and dimmed Thy sparkling eye! Affection's sweetest token Is lost fore'er and broken! The last kind word is spoken, -- Why did'st thou die? 5. Breathe low, thou gentle wind, Breathe soft and low; The beautiful lies dead! The joy of life is fled! And my lone heart is wed Henceforth to woe! QUESTIONS. --1. What rule for changing _y_ into _i_ in the word_beautiful?_ See ANALYSIS, page 13, Rule XI. 2. Why are _r_ and _m_doubled in the words _stirred, dimmed?_ See Rule IX. 3. What is themeaning of the suffix _let_, in the word _leaflet?_ See page 240, Ex. 185. * * * * * LESSON XCVIII. LUX U' RI ANT, rich; plentiful. UN OS TEN TA' TIOUS, plain; not showy. RE VER EN' TIAL, deeply respectful. RE CEP' TA CLE, place of reception. SEM' I CIR CLE, half-circle. REC OG NI' TION, act of knowing. AG RI CUL' TUR AL, relating to farming. BEN E DIC' TION, blessing. DI' A RY, note-book; journal. SO JOURN' ED, resided for a while. AC CLA MA' TIONS, shouts. TRI UMPH' AL, relating to victory. GRAT U LA' TION, rejoicing. IN AUG U RA' TION, act of investing with office. EN FRAN' CHIS ED, freed; liberated. [Headnote 1: SAR COPH' A GUS, (SARCO, _flesh_; and PHAGUS, _that whicheats or devours_, ) is made up of two Greek words, signifying together_flesh-eating_, and was applied by the ancients to a species of stone, used for making coffins. Hence, sarcophagus came to signify a_stone-coffin_. The form of the plural in Latin, is _sarcophagi_. ] [Headnote 2: BAS' TILE, (_bas' teel_, ) an old state prison in Paris, built in 1369, and destroyed by a mob in 1789. ] VISIT TO MOUNT VERNON. A. C. RITCHIE. 1. At this moment, we drew near the rude wharf at Mount Vernon; the boatstopped, and the crowd of passengers landed. By a narrow pathway weascended a majestic hill thickly draped with trees. The sun scarcelyfound its way through the luxuriant foliage. We mounted slowly, but hadonly spent a few minutes in ascending, when we came suddenly upon apicturesque nook, where a cluster of unostentatious, white marbleshafts, shot from the greenly sodded earth, inclosed by iron railings. Those unpretending monuments mark the localities where repose the mortalremains of Washington's kindred. 2. Just beyond stands a square brick building. In the center you see aniron gate. Here the crowd pauses in reverential silence. Men lift theirhats and women bow their heads. You behold within, two sarcophagi. [Headnote 1] In those moldering tombs lie the ashes of the greatWashington and his wife. Not a word is uttered as the crowd standgazing on this lowly receptacle of the dust of America's mighty dead. 3. Are there any in that group who can say, "this was _our_ country'sfather'?" If there be, can they stand pilgrims at that grave withoutWashington's examples, his counsels, his words, heretofore, it may be, half-forgotten, stealing back into their minds, until the sense ofreverence and gratitude is deepened almost to awe? Do they not feel thatWashington's spirit is abroad in the world, filling the souls of aheaven-favored people with the love of freedom and of country, thoughhis ashes are gathered here'? 4. Some one moves to pass on; and, with that first step, the spell isbroken; others follow. Herman and Jessie linger last. After a period ofmute and moving reflection, they turn away and slowly approach themansion that, in simple, rural stateliness, stands upon a noblepromontory, belted with woods, and half-girdled by the sparkling watersof the Potomac, which flow in a semicircle around a portion of themount. 5. The water and woodland view from the portico is highly imposing. Butit was not the mere recognition of the picturesque and beautiful innature, that moved Herman and Jessie. They would have felt that theywere on holy ground, had the landscape been devoid of natural charm. Here the feet of the first of heroes had trod, and here, in boyhood, hehad sported with his beloved brother Lawrence. 6. In those forests, those deep-wooded glens, he had hunted, when astripling, by the side of old Lord Fairfax; here he took his firstlessons in the art of war; to this home he brought his bride; by thisold-fashioned, hospitable-looking fireside, he sat with that dear andfaithful wife; beneath yonder alley of lofty trees he has often wanderedby her side; here he indulged the agricultural tastes in which hedelighted; here resigned his Cincinnatus vocation, and bade adieu to hischerished home at the summons of his country. 7. Here his wife received the letter which told her that he had beenappointed Commander-in-chief of the army; here, when the gloriousstruggle closed at the trumpet notes of victory--when the British hadretired--when, with tears coursing down his benignant, manlycountenance, he had uttered a touching farewell--bestowed a paternalbenediction on the American army, and resigned all public service--_here_ he returned, thinking to resume the rural pursuits that charmedhim, and to end his days in peace! 8. Here are the trees, the shrubbery he planted with his own hands, andnoted in his diary; here are the columns of the portico round which hetwined the coral honeysuckle; the ivy he transplanted still clings toyonder garden wall; these vistas he opened through yon pine groves tocommand far-off views! Here the valiant Lafayette sojourned with him;there hangs the key of the Bastile [Headnote 2] which he presented. 9. Here flocked the illustrious men of all climes, and were receivedwith warm, unpretending, almost rustic hospitality. Here the FrenchHoudon modeled his statue, and the English Pine painted his portrait, and caused that jocose remark, "I am so hackneyed to the touches of thepainters' pencil, that I am altogether at their beck, and sit like'Patience on a monument!'" 10. Then came another summons from the land he had saved, and he waschosen by unanimous voice its chief ruler. Thousands of men, women, andchildren, sent up acclamations, and called down blessings on his head, as he made his triumphal progress from Mount Vernon to New York, to takethe presidential oath. The roar of cannon rent the air. The streetsthrough which he passed, were illuminated and decked with flags andwreaths. Bonfires blazed on the hills. From ships and boats floatedfestive decorations. At Gray's Ferry, he passed under triumphal arches. 11. On the bridge across the Assumpink, at Trenton, (the very bridgeover which he had retreated in such blank despair, before the army ofCornwallis, on the eve of the battle of Princeton, ) thirteen pillars, twined with laurel and evergreens, were reared by woman's hands. Theforemost of the arches those columns supported, bore the inscription, _"The Defender of the Mothers will he the Protector of the Daughters. "_Mothers, with their white-robed daughters, were assembled beneath thevernal arcade. Thirteen maidens scattered flowers beneath his feet, asthey sang an ode of gratulation. The people's hero ever after spoke ofthis tribute, as the one that touched him most deeply. 13. When his first presidential term expired, and his heart yearned forthe peace of his domestic hearth, the entreaties of Jefferson, Randolph, and Hamilton, forced him to forget that home for the one he held in thehearts of patriots, and to allow his name to be used a second time. Asecond time he was unanimously elected to preside over his country'swelfare. But, the period happily expired, he thankfully laid aside themantle of state, the scepter of power, and, five days after theinauguration of Adams, returned here to his Mount Vernon home. And herethe good servant, whom his Lord, when He came, found watching and ready, calmly yielded up his breath, exclaiming, "It is well!" and his spiritwas wafted to Heaven by the blessings of his enfranchised countrymen. QUESTIONS. --1. Where is Mount Vernon? 2. What is said of Washington'stomb? 3. Mention some of the things which he did here? 4. Whatdemonstrations were made by the people, as he went to New York to takethe oath of office? 5. Did he serve more than one term as President? * * * * * LESSON XCIX. CHIV' AL ROUS, gallant; heroic. HAL' LOW, consecrate; keep sacred. MER' CE NA RY, mean; venal. AD VEN' TUR ER, fortune-seeker. VAN' QUISH ED, conquered. OUT' CAST, exile; castaway. TRAP' PINGS, ornaments; equipments. CRU SADE', battle zealously. CA REER' ED, moved rapidly. PHAL' ANX, compact body of men. TRANS PORT' ING, exulting. TRO PHIES, memorials of victory. PA' GEANT, pompous; showy. MIN' ION, favorite. LA FAYETTE. CHARLES SPRAGUE. 1. While we bring our offerings for the mighty of our _own_ land, shallwe not remember the chivalrous spirits of _other_ shores, who sharedwith them the hour of weakness and woe'? Pile to the clouds the majesticcolumn of glory`; let the lips of those who can speak well, hallow eachspot where the bones of your bold repose`; but forget not those who, with your bold, went out to battle. 2. Among those men of noble daring, there was _one_, a young and gallantstranger, who left the blushing vine-hills of his delightful France. Thepeople whom he came to succor, were not _his_ people; he knew them onlyin the melancholy story of their wrongs. He was no mercenary adventurer, striving for the spoil of the vanquished; the palace acknowledged himfor its lord, and the valley yielded him its increase. He was nonameless man, staking life for reputation; he ranked among nobles, andlooked unawed upon kings. 3. He was no friendless outcast, seeking for a grave to hide a brokenheart; he was girdled by the companions of his childhood; his kinsmenwere about him; his wife was before him. Yet from all these loved oneshe turned away. Like a lofty tree that shakes down its green glories, tobattle with the winter storm, he flung aside the trappings of place andpride, to crusade for Freedom, in Freedom's holy land. He came`; but notin the day of successful rebellion', not when the new-risen sun ofIndependence had burst the cloud of time, and careered to its place inthe heavens'. 4. He came when darkness curtained the hills, and the tempest was abroadin its anger`; when the plow stood still in the field of promise, andbriers cumbered the garden of beauty`; when fathers were dying, andmothers were weeping over them`; when the wife was binding up the gashedbosom of her husband, and the maiden was wiping the death-damp from thebrow of her lover`. He came when the brave began to fear the power ofman, and the pious to doubt the favor of God. It was _then_ that thisone joined the ranks of a revolted people. 5. Freedom's little phalanx bade him a grateful welcome. With them hecourted the battle's rage; with theirs, his arm was lifted; with theirs, his blood was shed. Long and doubtful was the conflict. At length, kindHeaven smiled on the good cause, and the beaten invaders fled. Theprofane were driven from the temple of Liberty, and, at her pure shrine, the pilgrim-warrior, with his adored commander, knelt and worshiped. Leaving there his offering, the incense of an uncorrupted spirit, he atlength rose, and, crowned with benedictions, turned his happy feettoward his long-deserted home. 6. After nearly fifty years, that _one_ has come again. Can mortaltongue tell? can mortal heart feel, the sublimity of that coming?Exulting millions rejoice in it; and their loud, long, transportingshout, like the mingling of many winds, rolls on, undying, to Freedom'sfarthest mountains. A congregated nation comes around him. Old men blesshim, and children reverence him. The lovely come out to look upon him;the learned deck their halls to greet him; the rulers of the land riseup to do him homage. 7. How his full heart labors! He views the rusting trophies of departeddays; he treads the high places where his brethren molder; he bendsbefore the tomb of his "father;" [Footnote: Washington] his words aretears, --the speech of sad remembrance. But he looks round upon aransomed land and a joyous race; he beholds the blessings these trophiessecured, for which these brethren died, for which that "father" lived;and again his words are tears, --the eloquence of gratitude and joy. 8. Spread forth creation like a map; bid earth's dead multitudes revive;and of all the pageant splendors that ever glittered to the sun, whenlooked his burning eye on a sight like this? Of all the myriads thathave come and gone, what cherished minion ever ruled an hour like this?Many have struck the redeeming blow for their own freedom; but who, likethis man, has bared his bosom in the cause of strangers? 9. Others have lived in the love of their own people; but who, like thisman, has drank his sweetest cup of welcome with another? Matchlesschief! of glory's immortal tablets there is one for him, for _him_alone! Oblivion shall never shroud its splendor; the everlasting flameof Liberty shall guard it, that the generations of men may repeat thename recorded there, the beloved name of LA FAYETTE. QUESTIONS. --1. Of what country was La Fayette a native? 2. What was hisposition at home? 3. In what condition was this country when he came tojoin our army? 4. How many years after, before he revisited thiscountry? 5. What demonstrations were manifested by the people? 6. Whatis said of his fame? * * * * * LESSON C. PRO FU' SION, abundance; variety. CON FU' SION, intricacy; indistinct movement. COM MO TION, agitation; shaking. RE SULT', effect. DI MIN' ISH, lessen. MYS' TER Y, maze; secrecy. HIS' TO RY, plain matter of fact. PA' GES, boy-servants; attendants. SPAR' RING, boxing; disputing. PUP' PETS, dolls; small figures of persons. FIN ISH, completion. GLO' RI OUS, grand; splendid. RE JECT, refuse; deny. RE FLECT' ED, turned back; borrowed. THE MYSTIC WEAVER. REV. DR. HARBAUGH. 1. Weaver at his loom is sitting, Throws his shuttle to and fro; Foot and treadle, Hand and pedal, Upward, downward, Hither, thither, How the weaver makes them go! As the weaver _wills_ they go. Up and down the web is plying, And across the woof is flying; What a rattling! What a battling! What a shuffling! What a scuffling! As the weaver makes his shuttle, Hither, thither, scud and scuttle. 2. Threads in single, Threads in double; How they mingle! What a trouble, Every color! What profusion! Every motion-- What confusion! While the web and woof are mingling, Signal bells above are jingling, Telling how each figure ranges, Telling when the color changes, As the weaver makes his shuttle, Hither, thither, scud and scuttle. 3. Weaver at his loom is sitting, Throws his shuttle to and fro; 'Mid the noise and wild confusion, Well the weaver seems to know, As he makes his shuttle go, What each motion, And commotion, What each fusion, And confusion, In the _grand result_ will show: Weaving daily, Singing gayly, As he makes his busy shuttle, Hither, thither, scud and scuttle. 4. Weaver at his loom is sitting, Throws his shuttle to and fro; See you not how shape and order From the wild confusion grow, As he makes his shuttle go'? As the web and woof diminish, Grows beyond the beauteous finish: Tufted plaidings, Shapes and shadings, All the mystery Now is history: And we see the reason subtle, Why the weaver makes his shuttle, Hither, thither, scud and scuttle. 5. See the Mystic Weaver sitting, High in Heaven--His loom below. Up and down the treadles go: Takes for web the world's long ages, Takes for woof its kings and sages, Takes the nobles and their pages, Takes all stations and all stages. Thrones are bobbins in His shuttle; Armies make them scud and scuttle. 6. Web into the woof must flow, Up and down the nations go, As the Weaver _wills_ they go. Men are sparring, Powers are jarring, Upward, downward, Hither, thither, See how strange the nations go, Just like puppets in a show. Up and down the web is plying And across the woof is flying. What a rattling! What a battling! What a shuffling! What a scuffling! As the Weaver makes His shuttle Hither, thither, scud and scuttle. 7. Calmly see the Mystic Weaver, Throw His shuttle to and fro; 'Mid the noise and wild confusion, Well the Weaver seems to know What each motion And commotion, What each fusion And confusion, In the grand result will show, As the nations, Kings and stations, Upward, downward, Hither, thither, As in mystic dances, go. 8. In the Present all is mystery, In the Past 'tis beauteous History. O'er the mixing and the mingling, How the signal bells are jingling! See you not the Weaver leaving Finished work behind in weaving'? See you not the reason subtle, As the web and woof diminish, Changing into beauteous finish, Why the Weaver makes His shuttle, Hither, thither, scud and scuttle'? 9. _Glorious wonder_! What a weaving! To the dull beyond believing! Such no fabled ages know. Only Faith can see the mystery How, along the aisle of History Where the feet of sages go, Loveliest to the purest eyes, Grand the mystic tapet lies! Soft and smooth and even-spreading As if made for angels' treading; Tufted circles touching ever, Inwrought figures fading never; Every figure has its plaidings, Brighter form and softer shadings; Each illuminated, --what a riddle!-- From a Cross that gems the middle. 10. 'Tis a saying--some reject it, -- That its light is all reflected: That the tapet's hues are given By a Sun that shines in Heaven! 'Tis believed, by all believing That great God Himself is weaving! Bringing out the world's dark mystery In the light of Faith and History; And, as web and woof diminish, Comes the grand and glorious finish: When begin the golden ages, Long foretold by seers and sages. QUESTIONS. --1. Describe the process of weaving. 2. Who are weaving theweb of history? * * * * * LESSON CI. CON FOUND', perplex; confuse. WOOF, cloth; texture. RAR' ER, scarcer; more excellent. PRAI' RIES, large tracts of land, with few trees, and covered with grass. SAV' AGE, wild; uncultivated. SAVAN'NA, open meadow or plain. PI O NEERS', persons that go before to prepare the way for others. SCOUTS, spies. HEART' EN, encourage. SCAN' NED, closely examined. CLEAV' ING, parting; separating. HOL' I DAY, day of rest or joy. WORK AWAY. HARPERS' MAGAZINE. 1. Work away! For the Master's eye is on us, Never off us, still upon us, Night and day! Work away! Keep the busy fingers plying, Keep the ceaseless shuttles flying, See that never thread lie wrong; Let not clash or clatter round us, Sound of whirring wheels, confound us; Steady hand! let woof be strong And firm, that has to last so long? Work away! 2. Keep upon the anvil ringing Stroke of hammer; on the gloom Set 'twixt cradle and the tomb, Showers of fiery sparkles flinging; Keep the mighty furnace glowing; Keep the red ore hissing, flowing Swift within the ready mold; See that each one than the old Still be fitter, still be fairer For the servant's use, and rarer For the Master to behold: Work away! 3. Work away! For the Leader's eye is on us, Never off us, still upon us, Night and day! Wide the trackless prairies round us, Dark and unsunned woods surround us, Steep and savage mountains bound us; Far away Smile the soft savannas green, Rivers sweep and roll between: Work away! 4. Bring your axes, woodmen true; Smite the forest till the blue Of heaven's sunny eye looks through Every wild and tangled glade; Jungled swamp and thicket shade Give to day! 5. O'er the torrents fling your bridges, Pioneers! Upon the ridges Widen, smooth the rocky stair, -- They that follow far behind Coming after us, will find Surer, easier footing there; Heart to heart, and hand with hand, From the dawn to dusk of day, Work away! Scouts upon the mountain's peak, -- Ye that see the Promised Land, Hearten us! for ye can speak Of the Country ye have scanned, Far away! 6. Work away! For the Father's eye is on us, Never off us, still upon us, Night and day! WORK AND PRAY! Pray! and Work will be completer; Work! and Prayer will be the sweeter; Love! and Prayer and Work the fleeter Will ascend upon their way! 7. Fear not lest the busy finger Weave a net the soul to stay; Give her wings, --she will not linger, Soaring to the source of day; Clearing clouds that still divide us From the azure depths of rest, She will come again! beside us, With the sunshine on her breast, Sit, and sing to us, while quickest On their task the fingers move, While the outward din wars thickest, Songs that she hath learned above. 8. Live in Future as in Present; Work for both while yet the day Is our own! for lord and peasant, Long and bright as summer's day, Cometh, yet more sure, more pleasant, Cometh soon our Holiday; Work away! * * * * * LESSON CII. PROP O SI' TION, proposal. AD HE' SION, attraction. AB SURD I TY, folly; nonsense. VIS' ION ARY, fanciful; imaginary. DIS CUS' SION, debate; controversy. THE' O RY, idea; scheme of doctrine. AM BAS' SA DOR, messenger; deputy. NAV' I GA TORS, voyagers; seamen. SPEC U LA' TION, theory; mental view. EN' TER PRISE, attempt; undertaking. FRI VOL' I TY, levity; triflingness. PRE SENT' I MENT, previous notice. AN TIP' O DES, (ANTI, _opposite_; PODES, _the feet_;) having their feet opposite to ours; that is, living on the other side of the earth. [Headnote 1: GEN O ESE', a native of Genoa, --a famous fortified seaportcity in Northern Italy. ] [Headnote 2: LAC TAN' TIUS, one of the fathers of the Latin church, bornabout the year A. D. 250. He was celebrated as a teacher of eloquence, and before his conversion to Christianity, had so successfully studiedthe great Roman orator that he afterwards received the appellation ofthe "Christian Cicero. "] QUEEN ISABELLA'S RESOLVE. FROM VINET. QUEEN ISABELLA OF SPAIN, DON GOMEZ, AND COLUMBUS. _Isabella. _ And so, Don Gomez, it is your conclusion that we ought todismiss the proposition of this worthy Genoese. [Headnote 1] _Don Gomez. _ His scheme, your majesty, seems to me fanciful in theextreme; but I am a plain matter-of-fact man, and do not see visions anddreams, like some. _Isa. _ And yet Columbus has given us cogent reasons for believing thatit is practicable to reach the eastern coast of India by sailing in awesterly direction. _Don G. _ Admitting that his theory is correct, namely, that the earth isa sphere, how would it be possible for him to return, if he oncedescended that sphere in the direction he proposes`? Would not thecoming back be all up-hill'? Could a ship accomplish it with even themost favorable wind'? _Columbus. _ Will your majesty allow me to suggest that, if the earth isa sphere, the same laws of adhesion and motion must operate at everypoint on its surface; and the objection of Don Gomez would be quite asvalid against our being able to return from crossing the Strait ofGibraltar. _Don G. _ This gentleman, then, would have us believe the monstrousabsurdity, that there are people on the earth who are ourantipodes, --who walk with their heads down, like flies on the ceiling. _Col. _ But, your majesty, if there is a law of attraction which makesmatter gravitate to the earth, and prevents its flying off into space, may not this law operate at every point on the round earth's surface'? _Isa. _ Truly, it so seems to me; and I perceive nothing absurd in thenotion that this earth is a globe floating or revolving in space. _Don G. _ May it please your majesty, the ladies are privileged to givecredence to many wild tales which we plain matter-of-fact men can notadmit. Every step I take, confutes this visionary idea of the earth'srotundity. Would not the blood run into my head, if I were standingupside down! Were I not fearful of offending your majesty, I would quotewhat the great Lactantius [Headnote 2] says. _Isa_. We are not vain of our science, Don Gomez; so let us have thequotation. _Don G_. "Is there any one so foolish, " he asks, "as to believe thatthere are antipodes with their feet opposite to ours, --that there is apart of the world in which all things are topsy-turvy, where the treesgrow with their branches downward, and where it rains, hails, and snows, upward'?" _Col_. I have already answered this objection. If there are people onthe earth who are our antipodes, it should be remembered that we aretheirs also. _Don G_. Really, that is the very point wherein we matter-of-fact menabide by the assurance of our own senses. We know that we are notwalking with our heads downward. _Isa_. To cut short the discussion, you think that the enterprise whichthe Genoese proposes, is one unworthy of our serious consideration; andthat his theory of an unknown shore to the westward of us is a fallacy. _Don G_. As a plain matter-of-fact man, I must confess that I so regardit. Has your majesty ever seen an ambassador from this unknown coast? _Isa_. Don Gomez, do you believe in the existence of a world of spirits?Have you ever seen an ambassador from that unknown world? _Don G_. Certainly not. By faith we look forward to it. _Isa_. Even so by faith does the Genoese look forward, far over mistyocean, to an undiscovered shore. _Col. _ Your majesty is right; but let it be added that I have reasons, oh! most potent and resistless reasons, for the faith that is in me: thetestimony of many navigators who have picked up articles that must havedrifted from this distant coast: the nature of things, admitting thatthe earth is round: the reports current among the people of one of thenorthern nations, that many years ago their mariners had sailed manyleagues westward till they reached a shore where the grape grewabundantly; these and other considerations have made it the fixedpersuasion of my mind, that there is a great discovery reserved for theman who will sail patiently westward, trusting in God's good providence, and turning not back till he has achieved his purpose. _Don G. _ Then truly we should never hear of him again. Speculation! merespeculation, your majesty! When this gentleman can bring forward somesolid facts that will induce us plain matter-of-fact men to risk moneyin forwarding his enterprise, it will then be time enough for royalty togive it heed. Why, your majesty, the very boys in the streets point attheir foreheads as he passes along. _Isa. _ And so you bring forward the frivolity of boys jeering at whatthey do not comprehend, as an argument why Isabella should not give heedto this great and glorious scheme? Ay, sir, though it should fail, still, it has been urged in language so intelligent and convincing, bythis grave and earnest man, whom you think to undervalue by calling himan adventurer, that I am resolved to test the "absurdity, " as you styleit, and that forthwith. _Don G. _ Your majesty will excuse me if I remark, that I have from yourroyal consort himself the assurance that the finances are so exhaustedby the late wars, that he can not consent to advance the necessary fundsfor fitting out an expedition of the kind proposed. _Isa. _ Be _mine_, then, the privilege! I have jewels, by the pledging ofwhich I can raise the amount required; and I have resolved that theyshall be pledged to this enterprise, without any more delay. _Col. _ Your majesty shall not repent your heroic resolve. I will return, your majesty; be sure I will return, and lay at your feet such a jewelas never queen wore yet, an imperishable fame, --a fame that shall couplewith your memory the benedictions of millions yet unborn, in climes yetunknown to civilized man. There is an uplifting presentiment in my mind, a conviction that your majesty will live to bless the hour you came tothis decision. _Don G. _ A presentiment? A plain matter-of-fact man, like myself, musttake leave of your majesty, if his practical common-sense is to be metand superseded by presentiments! An ounce of fact, your majesty, isworth a ton of presentiment. _Isa. _ That depends altogether upon the source of the presentiment, DonGomez. If it come from the Fountain of all truth, shall it not be good? _Don G. _ I humbly take my leave of your majesty. QUESTIONS. --1. What reasons did Don Gomez advance in proof that theearth is not a sphere? 2. What argument did Columbus present in proofthat it was? 3. What did Queen Isabella resolve to do? * * * * * LESSON CIII. CON FIRM' ING, corroborating. AS SUR AN CES, assertions. MU TI NEER', one who resists orders. IN FER' RED, concluded. CRAV' ED, begged. AS SO' CIA TING, joining; connecting. EX PEC TA' TION, hope; a looking for. VER' I FIED, made true; realized. PHOS PHO RES' CENCE, faint light. HES I TA' TION, doubt. EN JOIN' ING, commanding; ordering. AM PHI THE' A TER, circular theater. CON TR AST' ED, set in opposition. DE MEAN' OR, behavior. DE FAULT', defect; absence. IN SIG' NIA, marks; signs. IN I' TIALS, first letters. DEV AS TA TION, a laying waste. DISCOVERY OF THE NEW WORLD. LAMARTINE. 1. At sunrise, on the second day, some rashes recently torn up, wereseen near the vessels. A plank, evidently hewn by an ax, a stickskillfully carved by some cutting instrument, a bough of hawthorn inblossom, --and lastly, a bird's nest built on a branch which the windhad broken, and full of eggs, on which the parent bird was sitting amidthe gently-rolling waves, --were seen floating past on the waters. Thesailors brought on board these living and inanimate witnesses of theirapproach to land. They were a voice from the shore, confirming theassurances of Columbus. Before the land actually appeared in sight, itsneighborhood was inferred from these marks of life. 2. The mutineers fell on their knees before the Admiral, whom they hadinsulted but the day before, craved pardon for their mistrust, andstruck up a hymn of thanksgiving to God for associating them with thistriumph. Night fell on these songs welcoming a new world. The Admiralgave orders that the sails should be close-reefed, and the lead keptgoing; and that they should sail slowly, being afraid of breakers andshoals, and feeling certain that the first gleam of daybreak woulddiscover land under their bows. 3. On the last anxious night none slept. Impatient expectation hadremoved all heaviness from their eyes; the pilots and the seamen, clinging about the masts, yards, and shrouds, each tried to keep thebest place and the closest watch to get the earliest sight of the newhemisphere. The Admiral had offered a reward to the first who should cry_Land_, provided his announcement was verified by its actual discovery. 4. Providence, however, reserved to Columbus himself this first glimpse, which he had purchased at the expense of twenty years of his life, andof untiring perseverance. While walking the quarter-deck alone, atmidnight, and sweeping the dark horizon with his keen eye, a gleam offire passed and disappeared, and again showed itself on the level of thewaves. Fearful of being deceived by the phosphorescence of the sea, hequietly called a Spanish gentleman of Isabella's court, in whom he hadmore confidence than in the pilots, pointed out the direction in whichhe had seen the light, and asked him whether he could discern any thingthere. 5. He replied that he did, indeed, see a flickering light in thatquarter. To make the fact still more sure, Columbus called another inwhom he had confidence to look in the same direction. He said he had nohesitation in pronouncing that there was a light on the horizon. But theblaze was hardly seen before it again disappeared in the ocean, to showitself anew the next moment. Whether it was the light of a fire on a lowshore, alternately appearing and disappearing beyond the broken horizon, or whether it was the floating beacon of a fisherman's boat now risingon the waves, and now sinking in the trough of the sea, they could notdetermine. 6. Thus both land and safety appeared together in the shape of fire toColumbus and his two friends, on the night between the 11th and 12th ofOctober, 1492. The Admiral, enjoining silence, kept his observation tohimself, for fear of again raising false hopes, and giving a bitterdisappointment to his ships' companies. He lost sight of the light, andremained on deck until two in the morning, --praying, hoping, anddespairing alone, awaiting the _triumph or the return_ on which themorrow was to decide. 7. He was seized with that anguish which precedes the great discoveriesof truth, when, suddenly, a cannon-shot, sounding over the sea, a fewhundred yards in advance of him, burst upon his ear the announcement ofa _new-born world_, which made him tremble, and fall upon his knees. Itwas the signal of land in sight! made by firing a shot, as had beenarranged with the _Pinta_, which was sailing in advance of the squadron, to guide their course and take soundings. 8. At this signal a general shout of _"Land ho!"_ arose from all theyards and riggings of the ships. The sails were furled, and daybreak wasanxiously awaited. The mystery of the ocean had breathed its firstwhisper in the bosom of night. Daybreak would clear it up openly toevery eye. Delicious and unknown perfumes reached the vessels from theoutline of the shore, with the roar of the waves upon the reefs and thesoft land breeze. 9. The fire seen by Columbus indicated the presence of man, and of thefirst element of civilization. Never did the night appear so long inclearing away from the horizon; for this horizon was to Columbus and hiscompanions a second creation of God. The dawn, as it spread over thesky, gradually raised the shores of an island from the waves. Itsdistant extremities were lost in the morning mist. It ascendedgradually, like an amphitheater, from the low beach to the summit of thehills, whose dark-green covering contrasted strongly with the blueheavens. 10. Within a few paces from where the foam of the waves breaks on theyellow sand, forests of tall and unknown trees stretched away, one aboveanother, over the successive terraces of the island. Green valleys andbright clefts in the hollows, afforded a half glimpse into thesemysterious wilds. Here and there could be discovered a few scatteredhuts, which, with their outlines and roofs of dry leaves, looked likebee-hives, and thin columns of blue smoke rose above the tops of thetrees. Half-naked groups of men, women, and children, more astonishedthan frightened, appeared among the thickets near the shore, advancingtimidly, and then drawing back, exhibiting, by their gestures anddemeanor, as much fear as curiosity and wonder, at the sight of thesestrange vessels, which the previous night had brought to their shores. 11. Columbus, after gazing in silence on this foremost shore of the landso often determined by his calculations, and so magnificently colored byhis imagination, found it to exceed even his own expectations. He burnedwith impatience to be the first European to set foot on the sand, and toplant the flag of Spain, --the standard of the conquest of God and of hissovereigns, effected by his genius. But he restrained the eagerness ofhimself and of his crew to land, being desirous of giving to the act oftaking possession of a new world, a _solemnity_ worthy of the greatestdeed, perhaps, ever accomplished by a seaman; and, in default of men, tocall God and His angels, sea, earth, and sky, as witnesses of hisconquest of an unknown hemisphere. 12. He put on all the insignia of his dignities as Admiral of the Ocean, and the Viceroy of these future realms; he wrapped himself in his purplecloak, and taking in his hand an embroidered flag, in which the initialsof Ferdinand and Isabella were interlaced, like their two kingdoms, and, surmounted by a crown, he entered his boat, and pulled toward the shore, followed by the boats of his two lieutenants. 13. On landing, he fell on his knees, to acknowledge, by this act ofhumility and worship, the goodness and greatness of God in this newsphere of His works. He kissed the ground, and, with his face on theearth, he wept tears of double import, as they fell on the dust of thishemisphere, now, for the first time, visited by Europeans, --tears of joyfor the overflowing of a proud spirit, grateful and pious, --tears ofsadness for this virgin soil, seeming to foreshadow the calamities, anddevastation, with fire and sword, and blood and destruction, which thestrangers were to bring with their pride, their knowledge, and theirpower. 14. It was the _man_ that shed these tears; but it was the _earth_ thatwas destined to weep. As Columbus raised his forehead from the dust, with a Latin prayer, which his companions have handed down to us, hethus addressed the Sovereign Ruler of the world: (_sl_. ) "Almighty andeternal God, who, by the energy of thy creative word, hast made thefirmament, the earth, and sea, blessed and glorified be Thy name in allplaces! May Thy majesty and dominion be exalted forever and ever, asThou hast permitted Thy holy name to be made known and spread by themost humble of Thy servants, in this hitherto unknown portion of Thyempire. " 15. He then gave to this land the name of San Salvador. His lieutenants, his pilots, and his seamen, full of gladness, and impressed with asuperstitious respect for him whose glance had pierced beyond thevisible horizon, and whom they had offended by their unbelief, --overcomeby the evidence of their eyes, and by that mental superiority whichoverawes the minds of men, --fell at the feet of the Admiral, kissed hishands and his clothes, and recognized, for a moment, the power and thealmost divine nature of genius; _yesterday_ the victims of hisobstinacy, --_now_ the companions of his success, and sharers in theglory which they had mocked. Such is humanity, --persecuting discoverers, yet reaping the fruits of their inventions. QUESTIONS. --1. What evidences had Columbus that land was near? 2. Whatdid the mutineers do? 3. In what month and year was the _new world_discovered? 4. What is said of the natives? 5. What did Columbus do onlanding? 6. What was the conduct of the officers and seamen? * * * * * LESSON CIV. FER' MENT, heat; glow. EN THU' SI ASM, excitement. PRO DIG' IOUS, very great. SPEC I MENS, samples. LEAGU' ED, joined; banded. PER SUAD' ED, convinced. PRE POS' TEROUS, absurd; ridiculous. VAUNT' ED, boasted. DE LU' SION, deception. CRED' U LOUS, apt to believe. UN RE LI' A BLE, untrustworthy. SUS PI'' CION, doubt; mistrust. THE RETURN OF COLUMBUS. VINET. DON GOMEZ AND HIS SECRETARY. _Don Gomez_. WHAT! what is this you tell me? Columbus returned? A newworld discovered? Impossible! _Secretary_. It is even so, sir. A courier arrived at the palace but anhour since with the intelligence. Columbus was driven by stress ofweather to anchor in the Tagus. All Portugal is in a ferment ofenthusiasm, and all Spain will be equally excited soon. The sensation isprodigious! _Don G_. Oh, it is a trick! It must be a trick! _Sec_. But he has brought home the proofs of his visit, --gold andprecious stones, strange plants and animals; and, above all, specimensof a new race of men, copper-colored, with straight hair. _Don G_. Still I say, a trick! He has been coasting along the Africanshore, and there collected a few curiosities, which he is passing offfor proofs of his pretended discovery. _Sec_. It is a little singular that all his men should be leagued withhim in keeping up so unprofitable a falsehood. _Don G_. But 'tis against reason, against common sense, that such adiscovery should be made. _Sec_. King John of Portugal has received him with royal magnificence, has listened to his accounts, and is persuaded that they are true. _Don G. _ We shall see, we shall see. Look you, sir, a plainmatter-of-fact man, such as I, is not to be taken in by any suchpreposterous story! This vaunted discovery will turn out no discovery atall. _Sec. _ The king and queen have given orders for preparations on the mostmagnificent scale for the reception of Columbus. _Don G. _ What delusion! Her majesty is so credulous. A practical, common-sense man, like myself, can find no points of sympathy in hernature. _Sec. _ The Indians on board the returned vessels, are said to be unlikeany known race of men. _Don G. _ Very unreliable all that! I take the common-sense view of thething. I am a matter-of-fact man; and do you remember what I say, itwill all turn out a trick! The crews may have been deceived. Columbusmay have steered a southerly course, instead of a westerly. Any thing isprobable, rather than that a coast to the westward of us has beendiscovered. _Sec. _ I saw the courier, who told me he had conversed with all thesailors; and they laughed at the suspicion that there could be anymistake about the discovery, or that any other than a westerly coursehad been steered. _Don G. _ Still I say, a trick! An unknown coast reached by steeringwest? Impossible! The earth a globe, and men standing with their headsdown in space? Folly! An ignorant sailor from Genoa in the right, andall our learned doctors and philosophers in the wrong? _Nonsense!_ I'm amatter-of-fact man, sir. I will believe what I can see, and handle, andunderstand. But as for believing in the antipodes, or that the earth isround, or that Columbus has discovered land to the west, --Ring thebell, sir; call my carriage; I will go to the palace and undeceive theking. * * * * * LESSON CV. HAR' BIN GER, forerunner; precursor. UN PIL' LAR ED, unsupported by pillars. UN YIELDING, stubborn. DE CREES', edicts; laws. HAL' LOW ED, sacred; consecrated. MOLD' ER ING, decaying. TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO, GRENVILLE MULLEN. 1. Wake your harp's music!--louder, --higher, And pour your strains along; And smite again each quivering wire, In all the pride of song!(f. )Shout like those godlike men of old, Who, daring storm and foe, On this blessed soil their anthem rolled, TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO! 2. From native shores by tempests driven, They sought a purer sky; And found, beneath a milder heaven, _The home of Liberty!_ An altar rose, --and prayers, --a ray Broke on their night of woe, -- The harbinger of Freedom's day, TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO! 3. They clung around that symbol too, Their refuge and their all; And swore, while skies and waves were blue, That altar should not fall! They stood upon the red man's sod, 'Neath heaven's unpillared bow, With home, --a country, and a God, -- TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO! 4. Oh! 'twas a hard, unyielding fate That drove them to the seas; And Persecution strove with Hate, To darken her decrees: But safe, above each coral grave, Each booming ship did go, -- A God was on the western wave, -- TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO! 5. They knelt them on the desert sand, By waters cold and rude, Alone upon the dreary strand Of oceaned solitude! They looked upon the high, blue air, And felt their spirits glow, Resolved to live or perish there, -- TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO! 6. The warrior's red right arm was bared, His eyes flashed deep and wild: Was there a foreign footstep dared To seek his home and child'? The dark chiefs yelled alarm, and swore The white man's blood should flow, And his hewn bones should bleach their shore, TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO! 7. But lo! the warrior's eye grew dim, -- His arm was left alone; The still, black wilds which sheltered him, No longer were his own! Time fled, --and on the hallowed ground His highest pine lies low, -- And cities swell where forests frowned, TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO! 8. Oh! stay not to recount the tale, -- 'Twas bloody, and 'tis past; The firmest cheek might well grow pale, To hear it to the last. The God of Heaven who prospers us, Could bid a nation grow, And shield us from the red man's curse, -- TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO! 9. Come, then, --great shades of glorious men, From your still glorious grave! Look on your own proud land again, O bravest of the brave! We call you from each mouldering tomb, And each blue wave below, To bless the world ye snatched from doom, TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO! 10. Then to your harps!--yet louder, --higher And pour your strains along; And smite again each quivering wire, In all the pride of song!(f. )Shout for those godlike men of old, Who, daring storm and foe, On this blessed soil their anthem rolled, TWO HUNDRED YEARS AGO! QUESTIONS. --1. Who are meant by _godlike men of old_? 2. Why did theyflee to this country? 3. Who warred against them? * * * * * LESSON CVI. SE RENE' LY, calmly; quietly. SUR MOUNT', rise above; overcome. TRAMP, tread, or travel. EB' ON, black, as ebony. GUARD' I AN, defender; protector. CHIV' AL RIC, brave; heroic. MAIL, defensive armor. EX ALT', lift up. FRAIL' TY, weakness. BLIGHT' ED, blasted. RE NOWN', fame; celebrity. STEAD' FAST, firm; resolute. IN TER VENE', (INTER, _between_; VENE, _to come_;) come between; interpose. SUC CEED', (SUC, _after;_ CEED, _to come;_) come after; follow. PRESS ON. PARK BENJAMIN. 1. _Press on!_ there's no such word as fail! Press nobly on! the goal is near, -- Ascend the mountain! breast the gale! Look upward, onward, --never fear! Why shouldst thou faint? Heaven smiles above, Though storms and vapor intervene; That Sun shines on, whose name is Love, Serenely o'er Life's shadowed scene. 2. _Press on!_ surmount the rocky steeps, Climb boldly o'er the torrent's arch: He fails alone who feebly creeps; He wins, who dares the hero's march. Be thou a hero! let thy might Tramp on eternal snows its way, And, through the ebon walls of night, Hew down a passage unto day. 3. _Press on!_ if once and twice thy feet Slip back and stumble, harder try; From him who never dreads to meet Danger and death, they're sure to fly. To coward ranks the bullet speeds; While on their breasts who never quail, Gleams, guardian of chivalric deeds, Bright courage, like a coat of mail. 4. _Press on_! if Fortune play thee false To-day, to-morrow she'll be true; Whom now she sinks she now exalts, Taking old gifts and granting new. The wisdom of the present hour Makes up her follies past and gone: To weakness strength succeeds, and power From frailty springs;--_press on_! PRESS ON! 5. _Press on_! what though upon the ground Thy love has been poured out like rain? That happiness is always found The sweetest, which is born of pain. Oft 'mid the forest's deepest glooms, A bird sings from some blighted tree, And, in the dreariest desert, blooms A never-dying rose for thee. 6. Therefore, _press on_! and reach the goal, And gain the prize, and wear the crown: Faint not! for, to the steadfast soul, Come wealth, and honor, and renown. To thine own self be true, and keep Thy mind from sloth, thy heart from soil; _Press on_! and thou shalt surely reap A heavenly harvest for thy toil! QUESTIONS. --1. What encouragement is given to those who press on? 2. Whofails, and who wins? 3. What is said of those who never dread to meetdanger and death? 4. How are they rewarded, who press on? * * * * * LESSON CVII. EX PAND, develop; enlarge. EL E VATE, raise; dignify. VAR RI A BLE, changeable. PHAN TAS MA GO' RIA, magic lantern; illusive representations. UN' DU LA TING, waving; irregular. MO BIL'I TY, movableness; readiness to move. DO' CILE, teachable; obedient. CE LES' TIAL, heavenly. DIS' SI PATES, scatters, or confuses. IN FIN' I TY, boundlessness. GYM NAS' TIC, athletic exercise. O PAC' I TY, state of being opaque or dark. PA THET' IC, feeling; tender. IN DOM' I TA BLE, unconquerable. CO-OP' ER ATE, work with; join with. MOUNT PER' DU, one of the high summits of the Pyrenees mountains, in Spain. The name signifies "Lost Mountain;" in allusion, probably, to its peak being lost in the clouds. THE THREE FORMS OF NATURE. FROM THE FRENCH OF MICHELET. 1. There are three forms of Nature, which especially command and elevateour souls, release her from her heavy clay and earthly limits, and sendher, exulting, to sail amidst the wonders and mysteries of the Infinite. _First_, there is the unstable _Ocean of Air_ with its glorious banquetof light, its vapors, its twilight, and its shifting phantasmagoria ofcapricious creatures, coming into existence only to depart the nextinstant. 2. _Second_, there is the fixed _Ocean of the Earth_, its undulating andvast waves, as we see them from the tops of "the earth o'er gazingmountains, " the elevations which testify to antique mobility, and thesublimity of its mightier mountain-tops, clad in eternal snows. _Third_, there is the _Ocean of Waters_, less mobile than air, less fixed thanearth, but liable, in its movements, to the celestial bodies. 3. _These three things_ form the gamut by which the Infinite speaks toour souls. Nevertheless, let us point out some very notable differences. The _Air-ocean_ is so mobile that we can scarcely examine it. Itdeceives; it decoys; it diverts; it dissipates, and breaks up our chainof thought. 4. For an instant, it is an immense hope, the day of all infinity; anon, it is not so; all flies from before us, and our hearts are grieved, agitated, and filled with doubt. Why have I been permitted to see for amoment that immense flood of light? The memory of that brief gleamingmust ever abide with me, and that memory makes all things here on earthlook dark. 5. The _fixed Ocean of the mountains_ is not thus transient or fugitive;on the contrary, it stops us at every step, and imposes upon us thenecessity of a very hard, though wholesome gymnastic. Contemplation herehas to be bought at the price of the most violent action. Nevertheless, the opacity of the earth, like the transparency of the air, frequentlydeceives and bewilders us. Who can forget that for ten years, Ramon, invain, sought to reach Mount Perdu though often within sight of it? 6. Great, _very great_, is the difference between the elements; theearth is mute and the ocean speaks. The ocean is a voice. It speaks tothe distant stars; it answers to their movements in its deep and solemnlanguage. It speaks to the earth on the shores, replying to the echoesthat reply again; by turns wailing, soothing, threatening--its deepestroar is presently succeeded by a sad, pathetic silence. 7. And it especially addresses itself to man. It is creation's livingeloquence. It is Life speaking to Life. The millions, the countlessmyriads of beings to which it gives birth, are its words. All these, mingled together make the unity, the great and solemn voice of theocean. And "what are those wild waves saying?" They are talking of_Life, --of Immortality. _ 8. An indomitable strength is at the bottom of Nature--how much more soat Nature's summit, the Soul! And it speaks of partnership, of union. Let us accept the swift exchange which, in the individual, existsbetween the diverse elements; let us accept the superior Law whichunites the living members of the same body--Humanity; and, still more, let us accept and respect the supreme Law which makes us co-operate withthe great Soul, associated as we are--in proportion with ourpowers--with the loving harmony of the world--copartners in the life ofGod. QUESTIONS. --1. What are three great forms of Nature? 2. What is said ofthe Air-ocean? 3. How does the Ocean address itself to man? * * * * * LESSON CVIII. MO NOP' O LIZED, engrossed. CEL' E BRA TED, praised; talked of. PO' TENT LY, powerfully. MAR' I TIME, pertaining to sea. SA GAC' I TY, acuteness. IN TRE PID' I TY, daring valor. SAN' GUINE, bloody; cruel. EC CEN TRIC' I TY, peculiarity, oddity. WA' RI NESS, cautiousness. ED' I BLE, eatable. E MAN' CI PA TED, freed; liberated. IN TER ME' DI ATE, lying between. DEV AS TA TING, laying waste. DOUB' LE, sail around. [Headnote 1: BASQUES, (_basks_), an ancient and peculiar people, livingon the slopes of the Pyrenees Mountains. ] [Headnote 2: BRE' TON, a native of Brittany, an ancient province inFrance. ] [Headnote 3: NOR' MAN, that is, Northman, a name given to the ancientinhabitants of Norway, Denmark, and Sweden, and afterward to theirdescendants who settled in the north of France. ] THE WHALE AND THE WHALER. FROM THE FRENCH OF MICHELET. 1. Who opened up to men the great distant navigation? Who revealed theocean, and marked out its zones and its liquid highways? Who discoveredthe secrets of the globe? _The Whale and the Whaler!_ And all thisbefore Columbus and the famous gold-seekers, who have monopolized allthe glory, found again, with much outcry about their discovery, what hadso long before been discovered by the whalers. 2. That crossing of the ocean, which was so boastfully celebrated in thefifteenth century, had often been made, not only by the narrow passagebetween Iceland and Greenland, but, also, by the open sea; for theBasques [Headnote 1] went to Newfoundland. The smallest danger was themere voyage; for these men, who went to the very end of the _then_ knownworld, to challenge the whale to single combat, to steer right away intothe Northern sea, to attack the mighty monster, amid darkness andstorms, with the dense fog all around, and the foaming wavesbelow, --those who could do this, were not the men to shrink from theordinary dangers of the voyage. 3. Noble warfare! Great school of courage! That fishery was not _then_, as it is _now_, an easy war to wage, made from a distance, and with apotently murderous machine. No; the fisher then struck with his ownstrong hand, impelled and guided by his own fearless heart, and herisked life to take life. The men of that day killed but few whales; butthey gained infinitely in maritime ability, in patience, in sagacity, and in intrepidity. They brought back _less_ of oil; but _more, farmore_ of glory. 4. Every nation has its own peculiar genius. We recognize each by itsown style of procedure. There are a hundred forms of courage, and thesegraduated varieties formed, as it were, another heroic game. At theNorth, the Scandinavian, the rude race from Norway to Flanders, hadtheir sanguine fury. At the South, the wild burst, the gay daring, theclear-headed excitement, that impelled, at once, and guided them overthe world. In the center, the silent and patient firmness of theBreton [Headnote 2], who yet, in the hour of danger, could display aquite sublime eccentricity. And, lastly, the Norman [Headnote 3]wariness, considerately courageous; daring all, but daring all forsuccess. Such was the beauty of man, in that sovereign manifestation ofhuman courage. 5. We owe a vast deal to the whale. But for it, the fishers would stillhave hugged the shore; for, almost every edible fish seeks the shore andthe river. It was the whale that emancipated them, and led them afar. Itled them onward, and onward still, until they found it, after havingalmost unconsciously passed from one world to the other. Greenland didnot seduce them; it was not _the land_ that they sought; but _the sea, and the tracks of the whale_. 6. The ocean at large is its home, and _especially_ the broad and opensea. Each species has its especial preference for this or thatlatitude, --for a certain zone of water, more or less cold. And it was_that_ preference which traced out the great divisions of the Atlantic. The tribe of inferior whales, that have a dorsal fin, are to be found inthe warmest and in the coldest seas, --under the line and in the polarseas. 7. In the great intermediate region, the fierce Cachalot inclines towardthe south, devastating the warm waters. On the contrary, the Free Whalefears the warm waters, --we should rather say, that they did, formerly, fear them, --they have become so scarce. They are never found in the warmsouthern current; it is _that_ fact that led to the current beingnoticed, and thence to the discovery of the _true course from America toEurope_. From Europe to America, the trade winds will serve us. 8. If the Free Whale has a perfect horror of the warm waters, and cannot pass the equator, it is clear that he can not double the southernend of America. How happens it, then, that when he is wounded on oneside of America, in the Atlantic, he is sometimes found on the otherside of America, and in the Pacific? _It proves that there is anorth-western passage_. Another discovery which we owe to the whale, andone which throws a broad light alike on the form of the globe, and thegeography of the seas! 9. By degrees, the whale has led us everywhere. Rare as he is atpresent, he has led us to both poles, from the uttermost recesses of thePacific to Behring's Strait, and the infinite wastes of the Antarcticwaters. There is even an enormous region that no vessel, whetherwar-ship or merchantman, ever traverses, at a few degrees beyond thesouthern points of America and Africa. No one visits that region but thewhaler. QUESTIONS. --1. What has been done by the whaler? 2. By whom hadNewfoundland been discovered? 3. What is said of the courage of thewhaler? 4. What proof is given that there is a north-western passage, by water, from the Atlantic to the Pacific? * * * * * LESSON CIX. THRALL' DOM, bondage; slavery. IG NO' BLE, mean; degraded. HORDE, clan; tribe. FEUD' AL, pertaining to military tenure. DES' POTS, tyrants. PAL' TRY, mean; contemptible. RAP' INE, (_rapin;_) plunder; violence. FOR SOOTH', in truth; in fact. RUF' FIAN, robber; cut-throat. SERV' ILE, slavish; cringing. LIM' NERS, painters. DIS CI' PLE, learner; follower. CORSE, corpse; dead body. BRAWL, wrangle; contention. DIS TAIN' ED, sullied; stained. ECH' O ED, resounded. RIENZI'S ADDRESS TO THE ROMANS. [Footnote: RI EN' ZI, the last of the Roman Tribunes, was born in Romeabout the year 1310. He was assassinated Oct. 8th, 1354 He was a personof extraordinary eloquence. In his day, Rome was a prey to contendingfactions of nobles. This kept the city in constant turmoil, andsubjected the people to continual abuse and tyranny. It was the endeavorof Rienzi to arouse them to a resolution to be free. ] MISS MITFORD. 1. Friends! I come not here to _talk_. You know too well The story of our thralldom. We are _slaves!_ The bright sun rises to his course, and lights A race of _slaves!_ He sets, and his last beam Falls on a _slave_: not such as, swept along By the full tide of power, the conqueror leads To crimson glory and undying fame; _But base, ignoble slaves!_ slaves to a horde Of petty tyrants, feudal despots, lords, Rich in some dozen paltry villages; Strong in some hundred spearmen; only great In that strange spell, --_a name_. 2. Each hour, dark fraud, Or open rapine, or protected murder, Cries out against them. But this very day, An honest man, my neighbor, --there he stands, Was struck, _struck_ like a dog, by one who wore The badge of Ursini; because, forsooth, He tossed not high his ready cap in air, Nor lifted up his voice in servile shouts, At sight of that great ruffian! 3. (f. ) Be we _men_, And suffer such dishonor'? MEN, and wash not The stain away in blood'? Such shames are common! I have known deeper wrongs. I, that speak to ye, I had a brother once, a gracious boy, Full of gentleness, of calmest hope, Of sweet and quiet joy; there was the look Of heaven upon his face, which limners give To the beloved disciple! 4. How I loved That gracious boy! Younger by fifteen years, Brother at once, and son! He left my side, A summer bloom on his fair cheek, --a smile Parting his innocent lips. In one short hour, That pretty, harmless boy was slain! (_p_. ) I saw The corse, the mangled corse, and then I cried For vengeance! (_ff_. ) _Rouse ye, Romans!_--ROUSE YE, SLAVES! Have ye brave sons? Look in the next fierce brawl To see them die! Have ye fair daughters? Look To see them live, torn from your arms, distained, Dishonored; and if ye dare call for justice, Be answered by the lash! 5. Yet this is Rome, That sat on her seven hills, and, from her throne Of beauty, ruled the world! Yet we are Romans! Why, in that elder day, to be a Roman, Was greater than a king! And once again, -- Hear me, ye walls, that echoed to the tread Of either Brutus! Once again I swear, The eternal city shall be free! QUESTIONS. --1. In what condition did the writer say the Roman peoplewere? 2. What wrongs are complained of? 3. What special cases arementioned? 4. What are the people exhorted to do? 5. What is the meaningof the suffix _dom_, in the word _thralldom?_ See ANALYSIS, page 142, Ex. 189. 6. What is the meaning of the suffix _less_, in the word_harmless?_ See page 140, Ex. 187. 7. How, according to the notationmark, should the first part of the third verse be read? 8. What rule forthe rising inflections, third verse? See page 28, Rule I. * * * * * LESSON CX. MUL' TI PLY, increase; continue. COL'TER, part of the plow that cuts the sod. GE' NI AL, productive. BE NIG' NANT, kind; bounteous. SAUN' TER ING, loitering. WOOD' BINE, honeysuckle. RE SPLEN DENT, splendid, beautiful. PO' TENT, powerful. ROAD' STEAD, place where ships may anchor. RE LI' ANT, trusting; depending. PES TI LEN' TIAL, infectious; noxious. PER PET' U AL, continual. STER' ILE, barren. [Headnote 1: LE ON' I DAS, the celebrated Spartan leader who, with threehundred men, perished in the effort to resist the Persian hosts, at themountain pass of Thermopylae, (B. C. , 480. )] [Headnote 2: MARS' TON, that is, Marston Moor, a place in Yorkshire, England, memorable for the defeat of Charles I. , (in 1644, ) by theforces of Cromwell and others. ] [Headnote 3: BAN' NOCK BURN, a village in Stirlingshire, Scotland, famous for the battle between the patriots, under Robert Bruce, and theEnglish invading army, under Edward II. , fought, June 25, 1314. ] [Headnote 4: AR MA' DA, a great naval armament sent by Philip II. OfSpain, in 1588, for the conquest of England. It failed utterly, however, of its object, having been scattered and disabled by violent storms. ] SONG OF THE FORGE. 1. Clang! clang! the massive anvils ring, -- Clang! clang! a hundred hammers swing, Like the thunder-rattle of a tropic sky, The mighty blows still multiply: Clang! clang! Say, brothers of the dusky brow, What are your strong arms forging now? 2. Clang! clang!--we forge the _colter_ now-- The colter of the kindly plow; Benignant Father, bless our toil; May its broad furrow still unbind To genial rains, to sun and wind, The most productive soil! 3. Clang! clang!--our colter's course shall be On many a sweet and sunny lea, By many a streamlet's silver tide, Amidst the song of morning birds, Amidst the low of sauntering herds, Amidst soft breezes which do stray Through woodbine-hedges and sweet May, Along the green hill's side. 4. When regal Autumn's bounteous hand, With wide-spread glory clothes the land, -- When, to the valleys, from the brow Of each resplendent slope, is rolled A ruddy sea of living gold, We bless, --we bless the PLOW. 5. Clang! clang!--again, my mates, what glows Beneath the hammer's potent blows? Clink! clank!--we forge the _giant chain_, Which bears the gallant vessel's strain, 'Midst stormy winds and adverse tides; Secured by this, the good ship braves The rocky roadstead and the waves Which thunder on her sides. 6. Anxious no more, the merchant sees The mist drive dark before the breeze. The storm-cloud on the hill; Calmly he rests, though, far away In boisterous climes, his vessel lay Reliant on our skill. 7. Say, on what sands these links shall sleep, Fathoms beneath the solemn deep`? By Afric's pestilential shore', -- By many an iceberg, lone and hoar', -- By many a palmy western isle, Basking in spring's perpetual smile', -- By stormy Labrador'? 8. Say, shall they feel the vessel reel, When, to the battery's deadly peal, The crashing broadside makes reply'? Or else, as at the glorious Nile, Hold grappling ships, that strive the while, For death or victory'? 9. _Hurrah!_--cling! clang!--once more, what glows, Dark brothers of the forge, beneath The iron tempest of your blows The furnace's fiery breath? 10. Clang! clang!--a burning torrent, clear And brilliant, of bright sparks is poured Around and up in the dusky air, As our hammers forge the SWORD. 11. The _sword!_ a name of dread; yet when Upon the freeman's thigh 'tis bound, While for his altar and his hearth, -- While for the land that gave him birth, The war-drums roll, the trumpets sound, How _sacred_ is it then! 12. Whenever for the truth and right It flashes in the van of fight, Whether in some wild mountain pass As that where fell Leonidas [Headnote 1]; Or on some sterile plain and stern, A Marston [Headnote 2] or a Bannockburn [Headnote 3]; Or, mid fierce crags and bursting rills, The Switzer's Alps, gray Tyrol's hills, -- Or, as when sunk the Armada's [Headnote 4] pride, It gleams above the stormy tide, -- Still, still, whene'er the battle word Is LIBERTY, when men do stand For _justice_ and their _native land_, Then Heaven bless THE SWORD! QUESTIONS. --1. What things are mentioned as being forged? 2. What issaid of the colter? 3. What, of the iron cable? 4. What, of the sword? * * * * * LESSON CXI. BEN E FAC' TION, gift; favor. E LATE', flushed with success. IN HER' ENT, natural. PER FEC' TION, excellence. VIG' ILS, watchfulness. UN BRIB' ED, not influenced by gifts. CON SO LA' TION, comfort. AV' E NUE, way; entrance. A TROC' I TIES, enormities. MOCK' ER Y, derision; ridicule. FAC' UL TIES, powers of the mind. CA PAC' I TIES, abilities. CHOICE EXTRACTS. I. SWIFTNESS OF TIME. IDLER. Let him that desires to see others happy, make haste to give while hisgift can be enjoyed, and remember that every moment of delay takes awaysomething from the value of his benefaction. And let him who proposeshis own happiness, reflect, that while he forms his purpose, the daysroll on, and "the night cometh when no man can work. " II. THE SHIP OF STATE. LONGFELLOW. Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O Union, strong and great! Humanity, with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate! We know what Master laid thy keel, What workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge, and what a heat, Were shaped the anchors of thy hope. III. THE TRUE HERO. HORACE BUSHNELL. The true hero is the great, wise man of duty, --he whose soul is armed bytruth and supported by the smile of God, --he who meets life's perilswith a cautious but tranquil spirit, gathers strength by facing itsstorms, and dies, if he is called to die, as a Christian victor at thepost of duty. And, if we must have heroes, and wars wherein to makethem, there is none so brilliant as a war with wrong, --no hero so fit tobe sung as he who hath gained the bloodless victory of truth and mercy. IV. HEART ESSENTIAL TO GENIUS. W. G. SIMMS. We are not always equal to our fate, Nor true to our conditions. Doubt and fear Beset the bravest, in their high career, At moments when the soul, no more elate With expectation, sinks beneath the time. The masters have their weakness. "I would climb, " Said Raleigh, gazing on the highest hill, -- "But that I tremble with the fear to fall. " Apt was the answer of the high-souled queen: "If thy heart fail thee, never climb at all!" The heart! if that be sound, confirms the rest, Crowns genius with his lion will and mien, And, from the conscious virtue in the breast, To trembling nature gives both strength and will. V. EDUCATION. ADDISON. I consider a human soul without education, like marble in the quarry, which shows none of its inherent beauties until the skill of thepolisher fetches out the colors, makes the surface shine, and discoversevery ornamental cloud, spot, and vein that runs through the body of it. Education, after the same manner, when it works upon a noble mind, drawsout every latent virtue and perfection, which, without such helps, arenever able to make their appearance. VI. THE VANITY OF WEALTH. DR. JOHNSON. No more thus brooding o'er yon heap, With av'rice painful vigils keep; Still unenjoyed the present store, Still endless sighs are breathed for more. Oh! quit the shadow, catch the prize, Which not all India's treasure buys! To purchase Heaven has gold the power'? Can gold remove the mortal hour? In life, can love be bought with gold? Are friendship's pleasures to be sold? No; all that's worth a wish--a thought, Fair Virtue gives unbribed, unbought. Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind; Let _nobler views_ engage thy mind. VII. CONSOLATION OF THE GOSPEL. A. ALEXANDER. Oh, precious gospel! Will any merciless hand endeavor to tear away fromour hearts, this last, this sweetest consolation? Would you darken theonly avenue through which one ray of hope can enter? Would you tear fromthe aged and infirm poor the only prop on which their souls can reposein peace? Would you deprive the dying of their only source ofconsolation? Would you rob the world of its richest treasure? Would youlet loose the flood-gates of every vice, and bring back upon the earththe horrors of superstition, or the atrocities of atheism? Then endeavorto subvert the gospel; throw around you the firebrands of infidelity;laugh at religion, and make a mockery of futurity; but be assured thatfor all these things, God will bring you into judgment. VIII. THE LIGHT OF HOPE. O. W. B. PEABODY. 1. Oh, who that has gazed, in the stillness of even, On the fast-fading hues of the west, Has seen not afar, in the bosom of heaven, Some bright little mansion of rest, And mourned that the path to a region so fair Should be shrouded with sadness and fears;-- That the night-winds of sorrow, misfortune, and care, Should sweep from the deep-rolling waves of despair, To darken this cold world of tears? 2. And who that has gazed, has not longed for an hour, When misfortune forever shall cease; And Hope, like the rainbow, unfold, through the shower, Her bright-written promise of peace? And, oh! if that rainbow of promise may shine On the last scene of life's wint'ry gloom, May its light in the moment of parting be mine; I ask but one ray from a source so divine, To brighten the vale of the tomb. IX. PAMPERING THE BODY AND STARVING THE SOUL. EDWARD EVERETT. 1. What`! feed a child's body, and let his soul hunger'? pamper hislimbs, and starve his faculties'? Plant the earth, cover a thousandhills with your droves of cattle, pursue the fish to their hiding-placesin the sea, and spread out your wheat-fields across the plain, in orderto supply the wants of that body which will soon be as cold and assenseless as the poorest clod, and let the pure spiritual essence withinyou, with all its glorious capacities for improvement, languish andpine'? 2. What`! build factories, turn in rivers upon the water-wheels, unchainthe imprisoned spirits of steam, to weave a garment for the body, andlet the soul remain unadorned and naked'? What`! send out your vesselsto the furthest ocean, and make battle with the monsters of the deep, inorder to obtain the means of lighting up your dwellings and workshops, and prolonging the hours of labor for the meat that perisheth, andpermit that vital spark, which God has kindled, which He has intrustedto our care, to be fanned into a bright and heavenly flame, --permit it, I say, to languish and go out'? 3. What considerate man can enter a school, and not reflect, with awe, that it is a seminary where immortal minds are training for eternity'?What parent but is, at times, weighed down with the thought, that_there_ must be laid the foundations of a building which will stand, when not merely temple and palace, but the perpetual hills andadamantine rocks on which they rest, have melted away`!--that a lightmay _there_ be kindled which will shine, not merely when everyartificial beam is extinguished, but when the affrighted sun has fledaway from the heavens`? * * * * * LESSON CXII. FRUIT' AGE, collection of fruits. WAX' ES, grows; increases. JU' BI LANT, joyous. TINGE, imbue. GLO' RI FI ED, exalted to glory. UN WA' RY, incautious. FAM' ISH ED, afflicted with hunger. BAN' ISH ED, driven out; expelled. RE NEW' ED, made new again. MA TUR' ING, ripening. VINT' AGE, produce of the vine. DIS LOY' AL TY, unfaithfulness. BE QUEATH' ED, left by inheritance. CON SID' ER ATE, thoughtful. RE VIV' I FY, (RE, _again_; VIV, _live_; IFY, _to make_;) to make alive again, to bring to life; renew. WE ALL DO FADE AS A LEAF. GAIL HAMILTON. 1. "_We all do fade as a leaf_. " Change is the essence of life. "Passingaway, " is written on all things; and passing away is passing on fromstrength to strength, from glory to glory. Spring has its growth, summerits fruitage, and autumn its festive in-gathering. The spring of eagerpreparation waxes into the summer of noble work; mellowing in its turninto the serene autumn, the golden-brown haze of October, when the soulmay robe itself in jubilant drapery, awaiting the welcome command, "Comeup higher, " where mortality shall be swallowed up in life. 2. Why, then, should autumn tinge our thoughts with sadness. We fade asthe leaf, and the leaf fades only to revivify. Though it fall, it shallrise again. Does the bud fear to become a blossom, or the blossomshudder as it swells into fruit; and shall the redeemed weep that theymust become glorified'? Strange inconsistency`! We faint with the burdenand the heat of the day. We bow down under the crosses that are laidupon our shoulders. We are bruised and torn by the snares and pitfallswhich beset our way, and into which our unwary feet often fall. 3. We are famished, and foot-sore, and travel-stained, from our longjourney, and yet we are saddened by tokens that we shall pass away fromall these, --away from sin and sorrow, from temptation and fall, fromdisappointment, and weary waiting, and a fearful looking-for of evil, topurity and holiness, and the full fruition of every hope, --bliss whicheye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor heart conceived, --to a worldwhence all that made this dreary is forever banished, and where all thatmade this delightful is forever renewed and increased, --a world wherethe activities and energies of the soul shall have full scope, and loveand recognition wait upon its steps forever. 4. Let him alone fear, who does not fade as the leaf, --him whosesources are not in God, and who does not draw his life thence, --himwhose spring is gathering no strength, whose summer is maturing nofruit, and whose autumn shall have no vintage. Is not this the realsorrow of us all? not a dread of change, but a secret consciousness ofwasted power, --of disloyalty to God, as the supreme object of our loveand service. 5. Yet even here the fading leaf brings hope. Our future is alwaysbefore us. The past is fixed. No tears can wash away its facts. Let uswaste no vain regrets upon it; but, from the wisdom which its verymistakes and sins have bequeathed us, start afresh on the race. Thoughyesterday we were weak, and selfish, and indolent, let us to-day--atthis moment--begin to be strong, and brave, and helpful, and just, andgenerous, and considerate, and tender, and truthful, and pure, andpatient, and forgiving. "Now" is a glorious word. "HENCEFORTH" is alwayswithin our grasp. QUESTIONS. --1. To what are we compared? 2. What is said of change? 3. What change takes place in the leaf? 4. What, in man? 5. Who have reasonto fear? 6. What is said of the past and the future? * * * * * LESSON CXIII. UN HEED' ED, not regarded. EX POS' ED, unprotected. EX HORT' ED, urged; persuaded. AT TUN' ED, put in tune. ES SEN' TIAL, real; true. AN NOUNC' ED, proclaimed. TEACHINGS OF NATURE. POLLOCK. 1. The seasons came and went, and went and came, To teach men gratitude; and, as they passed, Gave warning of the lapse of time, that else Had stolen unheeded by: the gentle flowers Retired, and, stooping o'er the wilderness, Talked of humility, and peace, and love. The dews came down unseen at evening tide. And silently their bounties shed, to teach Mankind unostentatious charity. 2. With arm in arm the forest rose on high, And lesson gave of brotherly regard; And, on the rugged mountain brow exposed, Bearing the blast alone, the ancient oak Stood, lifting high his mighty arm, and still To courage in distress exhorted loud. The flocks, the herds, the birds, the streams, the breeze, Attuned the heart to melody and love. 3. Mercy stood in the cloud, with eye that wept Essential love; and, from her glorious brow, Bending to kiss the earth in token of peace, With her own lips, her gracious lips, which God Of sweetest accent made, she whispered still, She whispered to Revenge, Forgive! forgive! 4. The Sun, rejoicing round the earth, announced Daily the wisdom, power, and love of God. The Moon awoke, and, from her maiden face Shedding her cloudy locks, looked meekly forth, And, with her virgin stars, walked in the heavens, -- Walked nightly there, conversing as she walked Of purity, and holiness, and God. 5. In dreams and visions, sleep instructed much. Day uttered speech to day, and night to night Taught knowledge: silence had a tongue: the grave, The darkness, and the lonely waste, had each A tongue, that ever said, Man! think of God! Think of thyself! think of eternity! 6. Fear God, the thunders said; Fear God, the waves; Fear God, the lightning of the storm replied; Fear God, deep loudly answered back to deep. And, in the temples of the Holy One, Messiah's messengers, the faithful few, Faithful 'mong many false, the Bible opened, And cried: Repent! repent, ye Sons of Men! Believe, be saved. QUESTIONS. --1. What do the seasons teach? 2. What, the trees?3. What, the sun and moon? 4. What, Messiah's messengers? * * * * * LESSON CXIV. BE DECK' ED, adorned. AR RAY', dress; attire. MAN' TLED, spread; rushed. DE VO' TION, attachment. I DOL A TROUS, excessive. SEV' ER ED, rent; sundered. EN CIR' CLED, inclosed; surrounded. SA' BLES, mourning clothes. GIFT' ED, talented. FOUND ED, established. AL LURE', (AL, _to_; LURE, _draw_;) draw to; entice. PASSING UNDER THE ROD. [Footnote: These lines are founded on the following passage of Jewishhistory:--"It was the custom of the Jews to select the tenth of theirsheep after this manner: The lambs were separated from their dams, andinclosed in a sheep-cot, with only one narrow way out; the lambshastened to join the dams, and a man, placed at the entrance, with a roddipped in ocher, touched every tenth lamb, and so marked it with hisrod, saying, 'LET THIS BE HOLY. ' Hence, God says by his prophet, '_Iwill cause you to pass under the rod_. '"] MARY S. B. DANA. 1. I saw the young bride, in her beauty and pride, Bedecked in her snowy array; And the bright flush of joy mantled high on her cheek, And the future looked blooming and gay: And with a woman's devotion she laid her fond heart At the shrine of idolatrous love; And she anchored her hopes to this perishing earth, By the chain which her tenderness wove. But I saw, when those heartstrings were bleeding and torn, And the chain had been severed in two, She had changed her white robes for the sables of grief, And her bloom for the paleness of woe! But the Healer was there, pouring balm on her heart, And wiping the tears from her eyes; And He strengthened the chain He had broken in twain, And fastened it firm to the skies! There had whispered a voice, --'twas the voice of her God: "I love thee--I love thee--_pass under the rod!_" 2. I saw the young mother in tenderness bend O'er the couch of her slumbering boy; And she kissed the soft lips as they murmured her name, While the dreamer lay smiling in joy. Oh, sweet as the rose-bud encircled with dew, When its fragrance is flung on the air, So fresh and so bright to that mother he seemed, As he lay in his innocence there. But I saw when she gazed on the same lovely form, Pale as marble, and silent, and cold, But paler and colder her beautiful boy, And the tale of her sorrow was told! But the Healer was there, who had stricken her heart, And taken her treasure away; To allure her to heaven, He has placed it on high, And the mourner will sweetly obey. There had whispered a voice, --'twas the voice of her God: "I love thee--I love thee--_pass under the rod!_" 3. I saw, too, a father and mother who leaned On the arms of a dear gifted son; And the star in the future grew bright to their gaze, As they saw the proud place he had won; And the fast coming evening of life promised fair, And its pathway grew smooth to their feet, And the starlight of love glimmered bright at the end, And the whispers of fancy were sweet. And I saw them again, bending low o'er the grave, Where their hearts' dearest hope had been laid; And the star had gone down in the darkness of night, And the joy from their bosoms had fled. But the Healer was there, and His arms were around, And He led them with tenderest care; And He showed them a star in the bright upper world, 'Twas their star shining brilliantly there! They had each heard a voice, --'twas the voice of their God: "I love thee--I love thee--_pass under the rod_!" QUESTIONS. --1. What custom is alluded to, in the passage "_I will causeyou to pass under the rod?_" See note. 2. Where is that passage found inthe Scriptures? Ans. Ezekiel, 20th chap. , 37th verse. 3. What instancesare mentioned of individuals "_passing under the rod_?" * * * * * LESSON CXV. PET' U LANT, cross; fretful. CA LAM' I TY, misfortune. SA TIR' IC AL, keenly severe; cutting. NUI' SANCE, annoyance. JUST' I FY, give a right to. STU PID' I TY, extreme dullness. CUL' PABLE, blamable; censurable. IR RI TA BIL' I TY, excitableness. AP PEL LA' TION, name; title. VE' HE MENT, violent; furious. VO CIF ER A' TIONS, loud outcries. MEN' A CES, threats. CEN' SUR ED, blamed. VIN DI CA' TION, justification. LON GEV' I TY, length of life. CON TEMPT' I BLE, despicable. THE PETULANT MAN. OSBORNE. MR. GRIM--MICHAEL--COUSIN MARY. _Cousin Mary_. More breezes? What terrible thing has happened now, Cousin Grim? What's the matter? _Grim_. Matter enough, I should think! I sent this stupid fellow tobring me a pair of boots from the closet; and he has brought me tworights, instead of a right and left. _Cousin_. What a serious calamity! But, perhaps, he thought it was but_right_ to leave the _left_. _Grim_. None of your jokes, if you please. This is nothing to laugh at. _Cousin_. So it would seem, from the expression on your face, --rathersomething to storm at, roar at, and fall into a frenzy about. _Michael_. That's right, Miss; give him a piece of your mind! He's thecrossest little man I have met with in the new country. You might scrapeold Ireland with a fine-tooth comb, and not find such another. _Grim_. How dare you talk to me in that style? I'll discharge you thisvery day! _Michael_. I'm thinking of discharging _you_, if you don't take bettercare of that _sweet temper_ of yours. _Grim_. Leave the room, sir! _Michael_. That I will, in search of better company, saving the lady'spresence. [_Exit. _ _Grim_. There, cousin! there is a specimen of my provocations! Can youwonder at my losing my temper? _Cousin_. Cousin Grim, that would be the most _fortunate_ thing thatcould befall you. _Grim_. What do you mean? _Cousin_. I mean, if you could only _lose that temper_ of yours, itwould be a blessed thing for you; though I should pity the poor fellowwho _found it. _ _Grim_. You are growing satirical in your old age, Cousin Mary. _Cousin_. Cousin Grim, hear the plain truth; your ill temper makes you anuisance to yourself and every body about you. _Grim_. Really, Miss Mary Somerville, you are getting to becomplimentary! _Cousin_. No; I am getting to be _candid_. I have passed a week in yourhouse, on your invitation. I leave you this afternoon; but, before I go, I mean to speak my mind. _Grim_. It seems to me that you have spoken it rather freely already. _Cousin_. What was there, in the circumstance of poor Michael's bringingyou the wrong boots, to justify your flying into a rage, and bellowingas if your life had been threatened? _Grim_. That fellow is perpetually making just such provoking blunders! _Cousin_. And do you never make provoking blunders'? Didn't you send mefive pounds of Hyson tea, when I wrote for Souchong'? Didn't you send acarriage for me to the cars, half an hour too late, so that I had tohire one myself, after great trouble'? And did I roar at you, when wemet, because you had done these things'? _Grim_. On the contrary, this is the first time you have alluded tothem. I am sorry they should have happened. But surely you should make a_distinction_ between any such little oversight of mine, and thestupidity of a servant, hired to attend to your orders. _Cousin_. I do not admit that there should be a distinction. You areboth human; only, as you have had the better education, and the greateradvantages, stupidity or neglect on your part, is much the moreculpable. _Grim_. Thank you! Go on. _Cousin_. I mean to; so don't be impatient. If an uncooked potato, or aburnt mutton-chop, happens to fall to your lot at the dinner-table, whata tempest follows! One would think you had been wronged, insulted, trampled on, driven to despair. Your face is like a thunder-cloud, allthe rest of the meal. Your poor wife endeavors to hide her tears. Yourchildren feel timid and miserable. Your guest feels as if she would liketo see you held under the nose of the pump, and thoroughly ducked. _Grim_. The carriage is waiting for you, Miss Somerville, and the driverhas put on your baggage. _Cousin_. I have hired that carriage by the hour, and so am in no hurry. Your excuse for your irritability will be, I suppose, that it is_constitutional_, and not to be controlled. A selfish, paltry, miserableexcuse! I have turned down a leaf in Dr. Johnson's works, and will readwhat he says in regard to tempers like yours. _Grim_. You are always quoting Dr. Johnson! Cousin, I can not endure it!Dr. Johnson is a bore! _Cousin_. Oh, yes! to _evil-doers_, --but to none else. Hear him: "Thereis in the world a class of mortals known, and contentedly known, by theappellation of _passionate men_, who imagine themselves entitled, bythis distinction, to be provoked on every slight occasion, and to venttheir rage in vehement and fierce vociferations, in furious menaces, andlicentious reproaches. " _Grim_. That will do. _Cousin_. "Men of this kind, " he tells us, "are often pitied rather thancensured, and are not treated with the severity which their neglect ofthe ease of all about them, might justly provoke. " But he adds: "It issurely not to be observed without indignation, that men may be found ofminds mean enough to be satisfied with this treatment; wretches who areproud to obtain the privilege of madmen, and----" _Grim_. I will hear no more! Have done! _Cousin_. So the shaft went home! I am not sorry. _Grim_. No one but a meddlesome old maid would think of insulting a manin his own house. _Cousin_. So, when, at a loss for a vindication, you reproach me withbeing an old maid! Cousin, it does not distress me, either to be an oldmaid, or to be called one. I must, however, remark, that the manhoodthat can charge against a woman her single state, either as a matter ofridicule or reproach, is not quite up to my standard. _Grim_. Cousin Mary, I ask your pardon! But am I, indeed, the petulant, disagreeable fellow, you would make me out? _Cousin_. My dear Caspar, you are generous enough in large things; but, oh! consider that _trifles make up a good portion of the sum of life_;and so "_a small unkindness is a great offense_. " Why not be cheerful, sunny, genial, in little things? Why not look on the bright side? Whynot present an unruffled front to petty annoyances? Why not labor, --ay, labor, --to have those around you happy and contented, by reflecting fromyourself such a frame of mind upon them? Life is short, at the best; why not make it cheerful? Do you know thatlongevity is promoted by a tranquil, happy habit of thought and temper'?Do you know that cheerfulness, like mercy, is twice blessed; blessing"him that gives, and him that takes'?" Do you know that good manners, aswell as good sense, demand that we should look at objects on theirbright side'? Do you know that it is contemptible selfishness in you toshed gloom and sorrow over a whole family by your moroseness andill-humor'? _Grim_. Cousin Mary, the patience with which I have listened to yourcutting remarks, will prove to you, I hope, that, notwithstanding myangry retorts, I am convinced there is much truth in what you have saidof me. I have a favor to ask. Send away your carriage; stay a weeklonger, --a month, --a year, if you will. Hold the lash over this uglytemper of mine, --and I give you my word that I will set about the cureof it in earnest. _Cousin_. You should have begun earlier, --in youth, when the temper ispliable, and strong impressions can work great changes. But we will notdespair. I will tarry with you a while, just to see if you are seriousin your wish for a reformation, and to help you bring it about. _Grim_. Thank you. We hear of reformed drunkards, and reformed thieves;and _why may not a petulant temper be reformed_, but a system of totalabstinence from all harsh, unkind moods and expressions? Come, we willtry. QUESTIONS. --1. At what was Mr. Grim offended? 2. What did Cousin Marysay would be fortunate for him? 3. What blunder had Mr. Grim made? 4. How did he often behave at the table? 5. What does Dr. Johnson say ofsuch men? 6. What did Cousin Mary finally say to him? 7. Of what was heconvinced? 8. What did he resolve to do? * * * * * LESSON CXVI. SAC' RI FICE, religious offering. STRAIGHT, immediately. SCUR' VY, low; mean. SCRU' PLE, hesitate. EN DURE', suffer'; tolerate. IM PURE, filthy; unclean. UT TER LY, entirely; completely. BLEM' ISH, defect; deformity. WA' VER ED, hesitated. IM PAR' TIAL, just; free from bias. RE FER', leave to another. PAR' DON, forgive. GHEE, kind of butter used in India. DIS TRUST' ING, suspecting. PAL PA BLE, obvious; evident. LAUD' ING, praising. THE BRAHMIN AND THE ROGUES. [Footnote: The fable, here thrown into verse, is related in Englishprose by Macaulay, who says:--"Thus, or nearly thus, if we rememberrightly, runs the story of the Sanscrit Aesop. "] AN EASTERN FABLE. VERSIFIED BY J. N. McELLIGOTT. 1. A Brahmin went out, the legends say, To buy him a sheep a certain day; For he had solemnly vowed to slay, In sacrifice, a sheep that day, And wanted a sheep his vow to pay. Three neighboring rogues (The cunning dogs!) Finding this out, Went straight about (Moved, I ween, by the very Old Nick, ) To play the Brahmin a scurvy trick. 2. So one of them met him with the cry:-- "O Brahmin! O Brahmin! won't you buy A beautiful sheep? for here have I A beautiful sheep for sacrifice, As ever was seen by mortal eyes. " 3. "Where is your sheep?" replied the Brahmin; "Bring him out here, and let me examine. " With that the wag Opened a bag, And out he drew To public view An ugly, dirty, horrible dog! Blind as a bat, and lame as a frog; With a broken leg, climbing a log. Or limping slowly over a bog. 4. "Wretch!" said the Brahmin indignant, "who Shamelessly utterest things untrue, And dost without a scruple endure To handle creatures the most impure, How darest thou call that cur a sheep? Do you think, foul knave, that I'm asleep?" 5. "_Cur'!_" said the fellow with steady tone; "A _sheep_ it is, and a sheep alone; A sheep (see here, what a splendid fleece!) With flesh the sweetest, and fat as grease; And such a prize For sacrifice, As neither gods nor men can despise, Unless they both have dust in their eyes!" "Sir, " said the Brahmin, surprised to find A person so utterly out of his mind, "'Tis certain that _you_ or _I_ am blind. " 6. Then stepping up, Patting the pup, Rogue the second, as if amazed, While on the dog he steadily gazed, Exclaims aloud:--"The gods be praised! Since I've no need to market to go To buy me a sheep; for here's one so From spot and blemish perfectly free, That better could not possibly be. Isn't it nice? What's your price?" 7. The Brahmin, seeing this singular thing, Wavered in mind, like one in a swing; Yet answered the stranger, firmly, --"Sir, This isn't a sheep, but only a cur. " "_Cur_?" with disdain, the new-comer said; "Why, man, you're surely out of your head!" 8. As this occurred, Came rogue the third, To whom, as being a witness new, And likely to take impartial view, Brahmin proposed at once to refer, Whether the creature was _sheep_ or _cur_. All being agreed, the eager priest Said:--"Stranger, what do you call this beast?" "A _sheep_, to be sure!" the knave replied; "As fine a sheep as ever you spied. " 9. "Well, " said the Brahmin, "the gods this day Have surely taken my senses away!" Then begging the rogue That carried the dog, To pardon him for doubting his word, He, with a readiness most absurd, Purchased the creature with rice and ghee, Which went, of course, to the worthless three, And which they shared with wonderful glee. 10. Thus taken in, The poor Brahmin Offered it up, The filthy pup, Which so offended the gods, that they Sent sore disease his folly to pay: Thinking it right the man to chastise For so distrusting his natural eyes, And being led by palpable lies To offer a dog as a sacrifice. MORAL. Look out for the arts of the puffing tribe, -- People that praise for the sake of a bribe; Lavishly lauding a book or a pill, Or any thing else the pocket to fill; Singing Simplicity fast asleep, And making her dream a dog's a sheep. QUESTIONS. --1. What trick did the three rogues play off on the Brahmin?2. In what way did they do this? 3. What moral is taught in this fable? * * * * * LESSON CXVII. E LAS TIC' I TY, returning vigor. MIN' I FIES, lessens; makes small. DEG RA DA' TION, abasement. ES TRANGED, alienates. UN ALMS' ED, not having received alms. HA BIT' U AL, accustomed. EX TRAV' A GANCE, superfluous expense. IM PER' TI NENCE, that which is not pertinent. SUS PI' CIOUS, distrustful. E CON' O MY, frugality. TRAN' QUIL, calm; undisturbed. BE NUMB' ING, dull; stupefying. IM PROV' I DENCE, wastefulness. LIVING WITHIN OUR MEANS. S. W. PARTRIDGE. 1. _Oh, beware of debt_! It crushes out the manhood of a man, Robs his bright eye of boldness, cheats his limbs Of elasticity, unnerves his hand, Beclouds his judgment, dulls his intellect, Perils his uprightness, and stains his name, And minifies him to his fellow-men; Yea, far worse degradation, to himself. 2. Who hath the hurried step, the anxious eye, Avoids the public haunt and open street, And anxious waits for evening? Restlessly Tosses upon his bed, and dreads the approach Of the tell-tale morning sunlight? Who, unmanned, Starts at the sudden knock, and shrinks with dread E'en at his own shadow; shuns with care The stranger's look, skulks from his fellow's glance, And sees in every man a creditor? 3. The _debtor_;--he is only half a man; He saddens and estranges his chief friends, Burdens his dearest relatives; he hears In vain the stranger's tale, the widow's prayer, And sends away the orphan all unalmsed. None dare to place him in a post of trust, And business men regard him with a shrug. 4. "Owe no man aught. " Stand in the world erect, And lean alone upon thyself and God. The habitual borrower will be ever found Wicked, or weak, or both. Sweat, study, stint, Yea, rather _any thing_ than meanly owe. Let thine own honest hands feed thee and thine, And, if not thy friend's purse, at least, respect Thine own sweet independence. 5. Have fewest wants: the book, however good, Thou shouldst not purchase, let it go unbought; And fashion's vests by thee be all unworn. Soon luxuries become necessities, But self-denying thrift more joy affords Than all the pleasures of extravagance. A cottage, free from clamorous creditors, Is better than a mansion dunned; a coat, However darned, if paid for, hath an ease, And a respectability beside: Gay, ill-afforded vests can never boast. 6. However cheap, Whatever thou want'st not, buy not. That is dear, A mere extravagant impertinence, For which thou hast no need. Feel first the want Ere it be satisfied; bargains full oft Are money-wasting things, that prudent men Will keep afar from with suspicious eye; Perchance to any but of little use, And to themselves, most likely, none at all. 7. The habit of economy once formed, 'Tis easy to attain to prosperous things. Thou then shalt lend, not borrow: shalt not want A helping trifle when thy friend hath need, Or means to seize an opportunity, -- Seed-coin, to ensure a harvest. Thou shalt then Want not an alms for pinching poverty; And, though a sudden sickness dam the stream, And cut off thy supplies, thou shalt lie down And view thy morrows with a tranquil eye; Even benumbing age shall scare thee not, But find thee unindebted, and secure From all the penury and wretchedness That dog the footsteps of improvidence. * * * * * LESSON CXVIII. OM NIP' O TENT, all-powerful. IN TER' MI NA BLE, endless. MILK Y-WAY, galaxy; luminous circle in the heavens. AS' TRAL, starry. IN FIN' I TUDE, unlimited extent. IM PET' U OUS, rushing. AS TRON O MER, one skilled in the science of the stars. AP PROX' I MATE LY, nearly. OM NIS' CIENCE, knowledge of all things. PER TUR BA' TIONS, irregularities of motion. AB' SO LUTE, entire. PRE CIS' ION, exactness. AD JUST' MENTS, arrangements. RET' I NUE, company. SAT' EL LITES, small planets revolving round others. GRANDEUR OF THE UNIVERSE. O. M. MITCHEL. 1. If you would know the _glory_ of the Omnipotent Ruler of theuniverse, examine the interminable range of suns and systems which crowdthe Milky-Way. Multiply the hundred millions of stars which belong toour own "island universe" by the thousands of these astral systems thatexist in space, within the range of human vision, and _then_ you mayform some idea of the _infinitude_ of His kingdom; for lo! these are buta part of His ways. 2. Examine the scale on which the universe is built. Comprehend, if youcan, the vast dimensions of our sun. Stretch outward through his system, from planet to planet, and circumscribe the whole within the immensecircumference of Neptune's orbit. This is but a single unit out of themyriads of similar systems. 3. Take the wings of light, and flash with impetuous speed, day andnight, and month, and year, till youth shall wear away, and middle ageis gone, and the extremest limit of human life has been attained;--countevery pulse, and, at each, speed on your way a hundred thousand miles;and when a hundred years have rolled by, look out, and behold! thethronging millions of blazing suns are still around you, each separatedfrom the other by such a distance, that, in this journey of a century, you have only left half a score behind you. 4. Would you gather some idea of the _eternity_ past of God'sexistence, --go to the astronomer, and bid him lead you in one of hiswalks through space; and, as he sweeps outward from object to object, from universe to universe, remember that the light from those filmystains on the deep pure blue of heaven, now falling on your eye, hasbeen traversing space for a million of years. 5. Would you gather some knowledge of the _omnipotence_ of God, --weighthe earth on which we dwell, then count the millions of its inhabitantsthat have come and gone for the last six thousand years. Unite theirstrength into one arm, and test its power in an effort to move thisearth. It could not stir it a single foot in a thousand years; and yetunder the omnipotent hand of God, not a minute passes that it does notfly more than a thousand miles. 6. But this is a mere atom, --the most insignificant point among hisinnumerable worlds. At his bidding, every planet, and satellite, andcomet, and the sun himself, fly onward in their appointed courses. Hissingle arm guides the millions of sweeping suns, and around His thronecircles the great constellation of unnumbered universes. 7. Would you comprehend the idea of the _omniscience_ of God, --rememberthat the highest pinnacle of knowledge reached by the whole human race, by the combined efforts of its brightest intellects, has enabled theastronomer to compute approximately the perturbations of the planetaryworlds. He has predicted roughly the return of half a score of comets. But God has computed the mutual perturbations of millions of suns, andplanets, and comets, and worlds, without number, through the ages thatare passed, and throughout the ages which are yet to come, notapproximately, but with perfect and absolute precision. 8. The universe is in motion, --system rising above system, cluster abovecluster, nebula above nebula, --all majestically sweeping around underthe providence of God, who alone knows the end from the beginning, andbefore whose glory and power all intelligent beings, whether in heavenor on earth, should bow with humility and awe. 9. Would you gain some idea of the _wisdom_ of God, --look to theadmirable adjustments of the magnificent retinue of planets andsatellites which sweep around the sun. Every globe has been weighed andpoised, every orbit has been measured and bent to its beautiful form. 10. All is changing; but the laws fixed by the wisdom of God, thoughthey permit the rocking to and fro of the system, never introducedisorder, or lead to destruction. All is perfect and harmonious, and themusic of the spheres that burn and roll around our sun, is echoed bythat of ten millions of moving worlds, that sing and shine around thebright suns that reign above. 11. If, overwhelmed with the grandeur and majesty of the universe ofGod, we are led to exclaim with the Hebrew poet-king, --"When I considerThy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which Thouhast ordained, what is man, that Thou art mindful of him? and the son ofman, that Thou visitest him?"--If fearful that the eye of God mayoverlook us in the immensity of His kingdom, we have only to call tomind that other passage, "Yet Thou hast made him but a little lower thanthe angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honor. Thou madest himto have dominion over all the works of Thy hand; Thou hast put allthings under his feet. " Such are the teachings of the word, and such arethe lessons of the works of God. * * * * * LESSON CXIX. "WHOM HAVE I IN HEAVEN BUT THEE?" MISS PAMELIA S. VINING. 1. 'Twere naught to me, yon glorious arch of night, Decked with the gorgeous blazonry of heaven, If, to my faith, amid its splendors bright, No vision of the Eternal One were given; I could but view a dreary, soulless waste, -- A vast expanse of solitude unknown, More cheerless for the splendors o'er it cast, -- For all its grandeur more intensely lone. 2. 'Twere naught to me, this ever-changeful scene Of earthly beauty, sunshine, and delight, -- The wood's deep shadows and the valley's green, -- Morn's tender glow, and sunset's splendors bright; Naught, if my Father spoke not from the sky, The cloud, the flower, the landscape, and the leaf; My soul would pine 'mid earth's vain pageantry, And droop in hopeless orphanage and grief. 3. 'Twere naught to me, the ocean's vast expanse, If His perfections were not mirrored there; Hopeless across the unmeasured waste I'd glance, And clasp my hands in anguish, not in prayer. Naught Nature's anthem, ever swelling up From Nature's myriad voices; for the hymn Breathes not of love, or gratitude, or hope, Robbed of the tones that tell my soul of Him. 4. This wondrous universe how less than naught Without my God! how desolate and drear! A mock'ry, earth with her vain splendors fraught! A gilded pageant, every rolling sphere! The noonday sun with all his glories crowned, A sickly meteor glimmers faint and pale! And all earth's melodies, their sweetness drowned, Are but the utterance of a funeral wail. * * * * * LESSON CXX. THE MEMORY OF WASHINGTON. KOSSUTH. 1. Mr. President: I consider it a particular favor of Providence that Iam permitted to partake, on the present solemn occasion, in paying thetribute of honor and gratitude to the memory of your immortalWashington. 2. An architect having raised a proud and noble building to the serviceof the Almighty, his admirers desired to erect a monument to his memory. How was it done? His name was inscribed upon the wall, with theseadditional words: "You seek his monument--look around. " 3. Let him who looks for a monument of Washington look around the UnitedStates. The whole country is a monument to him. Your freedom, yourindependence, your national power, your prosperity, and your prodigiousgrowth, is a monument to Washington. 4. There is no room left for panegyric, none especially to a strangerwhom you had full reason to charge with arrogance, were he able tobelieve that his feeble voice could claim to be noticed in the mightyharmony of a nation's praise. Let me, therefore, instead of such anarrogant attempt, pray that that God, to whose providential intentionsWashington was a glorious instrument, may impart to the people of theUnited States the same wisdom for the conservation of the presentprosperity of the land and for its future security, which he gave toWashington for the foundation of it. 5. I yield to nobody in the world in reverence and respect to theimmortal memory of Washington. His life and his principles were theguiding star of my life; to that star I looked up for inspiration andadvice, during the vicissitudes of my stormy life. Hence I drew thatdevotion to my country and to the cause of national freedom, which you, gentlemen, and millions of your fellow-citizens, and your nationalgovernment, are so kind as to honor by unexampled distinction. 6. Sir, I have studied the history of your immortal Washington, andhave, from my early youth, considered his principles as a living sourceof instruction to statesmen and to patriots. When, in that very year in which Washington issued his Farewell Address, M. Adet, the French Minister, presented to him the flag of the FrenchRepublic, Washington, as President of the United States, answeredofficially, with these memorable words: "Born in a land of liberty, having early learned its value, havingengaged in a perilous conflict to defend it, having devoted the bestyears of my life to secure its permanent establishment in my country, myanxious recollections, my sympathetic feelings, and my best wishes, areirresistibly attracted, whensoever in any country I see an oppressednation unfurl the banner of freedom. " 7. Thus spoke Washington. Have I not then full reason to say, that if hewere alive his generous sympathy would be with me; and the sympathy of aWashington never was, and never would be, a barren word. Washington, whoraised the word "honesty" as a rule of policy, never would haveprofessed a sentiment which his wisdom as a statesman would not haveapproved. 8. Sir! here let me end. I consider it already as an immense benefitthat your generous attention connected the cause of Hungary with thecelebration of the memory of Washington. 9. Spirit of the departed! smile down from heaven upon this appreciationof my country's cause; watch over those principles which thou hast takenfor the guiding star of thy noble life, and the time will yet come whennot only thine own country, but liberated Europe, also, will be a livingmonument to thy immortal name. * * * * * LESSON CXXI. THE LOST ONE'S LAMENT. 1. Oh! the snow, the beautiful snow, Filling the sky and earth below; Over the housetops, over the street, Over the heads of the people you meet, Dancing, Flirting, Skimming along! Beautiful snow! it can do no wrong. Flying to kiss a fair lady's cheek, Clinging to lips in a frolicsome freak, Beautiful snow from the Heaven above, Pure as an angel, gentle as love! 2. Oh! the snow, the beautiful snow, How the flakes gather and laugh as they go? Whirling about in its maddening fun, It plays in its glee with every one; Chasing, Laughing, Hurrying by, It lights on the face and it sparkles the eye! And even the dogs, with a bark and a bound, Snap at the crystals that eddy around. The town is alive, and its heart in a glow To welcome the coming of beautiful snow. 3. How wild the crowd goes swaying along, Hailing each other with humor and song! How the gay sledges, like meteors, flash by, Bright for the moment, then lost to the eye! Ringing, Swinging, Dashing they go Over the crust of the beautiful snow; Snow so pure when it falls from the sky, To be trampled in mud by the crowd rushing by, To be trampled and tracked by thousands of feet, Till it blends with the filth in the horrible street 4. How strange it should be that this beautiful snow, Should fall on a sinner with nowhere to go! How strange it should be, when the night comes again If the snow and the ice struck my desperate brain! Fainting, Freezing, Dying alone, Too wicked for prayer, too weak for a moan To be heard in the crazy town, Gone mad in the joy of the snow coming down; To lie and so die, in my terrible woe, With a bed and a shroud of the beautiful snow!