Chapter XIV: Section V: The Rhetorical Pause (8)

10. I threw out more tissue. It rose to me like a wing of joy. I was descending. Though far from sunset, it was now dark about me, except a track of blood-red haze in the direction of the sun. I encountered a strong 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! A storm was sweeping through the sky, nearly a mile beneath; and I looked down upon an ocean of rainbows, rolling in indescribable grandeur, to the music of the thunder-peal, as it moaned afar and near, on the coming and dying wind.

11. A frightened eagle had ascended through the tempest, and sailed for minutes by my side, looking at me with panting weariness, and quivering mandibles, but with a dilated eye, whose keen iris flashed unsubdued. Proud emblem of my country! As he fanned me with his heavy wing, and looked with a human intelligence at the car, my pulse bounded with exulting rapture. Like the genius of my native land, he had risen above every storm, unfettered and FREE.

12. But my transports were soon at an end. He attempted to light on the balloon, 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 my view in a moment. A flock of wild-fowl, beat by the storm, were coursing below, on bewildered pinions; and, as I was nearing them, I knew I was descending. A breaking rift now admitted the sun. The rainbows tossed and 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 than celestial roses; masses of mist were lifted on high, like strips of living fire, more radiant than the sun himself, when his glorious noontide culminates from the equator. A kind of aërial Euroclydon now smote my car, and three of the cords parted, which tilted my gondola to the 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 waving outline, to the south-east, I saw the ocean. Ships were speeding on their course, and their bright sails melting into distance; a rainbow hung afar; and the rolling anthems of the Atlantic came like celestial hymnings to my ear. Presently all was clear below me. The fresh air played around. I had taken a noble circuit; and my last view was better than 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 the view.

15. Below, ships were hastening to and fro through the Narrows, and the far country lay smiling like an Eden. Bright rivers ran like ribbons of gold and silver, till they were lost in the vast inland, stretching beyond the view; the gilded mountains were flinging their purple shadows over many a vale; bays were blushing to the farewell day-beams; and now I was passing over a green island. I sailed to the mainland; saw the tall, old trees waving to the evening breeze; heard the rural lowing of herds, and the welcome sound of human voices; and, finally, sweeping over forest-tops and embowered villages, at last, descended with the sun, among a kind-hearted, surprised, and hospitable community, in as pretty a town as one could desire to see, "safe and well."

QUESTIONS.--1. What demonstrations were made by the people as the aeronaut began to ascend? 2. How did the city and other objects appear to 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 near him? 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. What did the son promise to do? 3. How did the son treat his father after he got 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 of Minorca, 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 Black River, after roaring and surging through many pleasant fields, beautiful groves, and dense woodlands, commingle with the clear, cold waters of Lake 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 the majestic forests, of yore, the wily Indian and his dusky mate, held undisputed possession; and many are the incidents, yet unwritten, of tragic and thrilling interest, that transpired around the red men's camp-fire, ere the white man disturbed their forest homes.

3. Si öus' ka, or the "Wild Flower," was the daughter of a powerful chief of the Onondagas, and the only being ever known to turn the relentless old chief from a savage purpose. Something of this influence was owing to her great beauty; but more to the gentleness of which that beauty was the emblem. Her downcast eye, her trembling lip, her quiet, submissive motion, all bespoke its language; and many were the young chieftains that sought to win her affections.

4. Among her admirers were two young chiefs of the Oneidas, with whom the Onondagas were on the most friendly terms. Si öus' ka's father, in order to cherish the friendly feeling of the two tribes, and, at the same time, strengthen his power, besought her to accept the more powerful chief, "Eagle Eye." He did not plead in vain; for she had long loved the young Oneida.

5. One bright sunny morning, in early spring, as the old chief was out hunting, the young Oneida crossed his path, upon which the old man advanced, and, laying his hand upon his shoulder, pointed to the dwelling of Si öus' ka. Not a word was spoken. The proud old man and the strong, young chief proceeded toward her wigwam, and entered together.

6. Si öus' ka was seated in one corner, engaged upon some fancy basket-work, and did not notice their approach until they had entered. The old chief looked upon her with an expression of love, which his stern countenance never wore except in her presence. "Siöus'ka," he said in a subdued tone, "Go to the wigwam of the Oneida, that your father's tribe may be strengthened, and many moons may shine upon their peace and prosperity."

7. There was mingled joy and modesty in the upward glance of the "Wild Flower" of the Onondagas, and, when the young chief saw the light of her mild eye suddenly and timidly vailed by its deeply-fringed lid, he knew that her love had lost none of its power. The marriage song was soon sung in the royal wigwam, in which the sweet voice of Siöus'ka was happily 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 he secretly resolved upon revenge. Two years passed away, and, as yet, no good opportunity had arrived; for he dared not attack "Eagle Eye" in open conflict, for fear of his superior powers; and, assassin-like, he sought to give the blow unperceived.

9. At length, the spring came, and a number of the tribe prepared to visit Lake Ontario, on a fishing and hunting excursion. Among the number who went, were the "Eagle Eye," Siöus'ka, and their little boy. They were obliged to carry their light, birchen canoes from home, and these were packed with the necessary tackle, skins for beds, &c. The strong men of the party carried the canoes on their shoulders, and the women the smaller articles of furniture.

10. They had advanced across the country, until they reached the Black River, and, by carrying their canoes around falls and rapids, gently floated down the stream till they reached the great falls, about six miles from the Lake. Here they halted for the night, and encamped about half a mile above the falls.

11. The morning came; and, as the first beam of the rising sun pierced the forest shade, the party again embarked in their canoes for the mouth of the river, the gaudy canoe of Si öus' ka, which her father had given her, taking the lead. They had scarcely started from the shore, ere the sharp twang of a bow-string was heard from the shore, and an unerring arrow pierced the heart of "Eagle Eye." He fell over the side of the canoe, and was swept by the current over the great falls.

12. The party immediately started in pursuit of the coward murderer; but they sought in vain. His hiding-place was too sure,--he had taken refuge in a cave, the entrance of which was hid from observation by a thick clump of cedars. Here he remained till he was certain the company had departed. This cave is still there, and I have often been in its many chambers,--some of which are very spacious.

13. The fatal shaft was winged from the bow of the revenged Oneida chief. Having been apprised of the expedition, he had warily dogged the steps of the party, until a favorable opportunity presented itself, and then satisfied his secret longing for revenge upon the enemy, whom he did 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, with superstitious fear, that the "Great Spirit" had thus summoned "Eagle Eye" to the "Spirit's Hunting Ground."

14. When they returned to their canoes, no traces of Si öus' ka and her child were to be found. They, too, had mysteriously disappeared, and the whole party, with ominous silence, hastened around the falls, and away from the fearful place. When Si ous' ka saw the fatal shaft pierce her companion, 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 the current, had floated into a large cave, and was firmly wedged in between two rocks; and her little boy, with his bow and arrow in his hand, was quietly 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 body of the ill-fated "Eagle Eye," where it had washed ashore. With superhuman strength, she bore the mangled body to a thick grove of cedars, and, with her own hands, dug a rude grave, and covered his remains with dried leaves and earth. That night she kept her lonely watch 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 the western hills, ere she left the grave of the murdered chief. But, at length, she sorrowfully departed; and, on arriving where she moored the canoe the day before, what was her surprise to see the murderer of her husband, quietly sleeping upon the skins where last "Eagle Eye" had reposed, in the bow of the canoe.

18. From that moment Si öus' ka was changed. Her quiet, submissive air immediately gave place to fierce sternness, and the eye that had always beamed with the smile of love, shot forth flashes of bitter hate and passion, implacable as the most bloodthirsty of her tribe. Noiselessly throwing the oars from the boat, with a wild shriek, she quickly swung it around into the rapidly rolling current, and it was hurried toward the brink of that awful cataract, over which no living being had ever passed 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 was hurrying him to sure destruction, and vainly sought to gain the shore. After struggling with the swift tide for a moment, in which he was carried nearer and nearer the awful brink, he turned, and, with a wild, unearthly yell, plunged over, and the boiling waters only responded to his death-wail, as he sunk to rise no more, and his spirit joined that of his victim in the "Spirit Land."

20. After the gentle "Wild Flower" had avenged the death of the "Eagle Eye," she returned to her father's wigwam, and spent the remainder of her life to the memory of her heart's first devotion. The canoe, all battered 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," Siöus'ka, and her child, had all perished in some mysterious manner.

QUESTIONS.--1. Who was Siöus'ka? 2. Who became her husband? 3. What effect had her marriage upon the rejected Oneida chief? 4. In what way did he seek revenge? 5. How did Siöus'ka avenge the death of her husband?

* * * * *

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 refuge in the tent of Jael, wife of Heber. There, while asleep, Jael drove a nail through his temples, and so he died. His mother, finding he did not return from the battle, "looked out at a window, and cried through the lattice, Why is his chariot so long in coming?" Read 4th and 5th chapters of Judges.]

A MOTHER'S LOVE.

ALBERT BARNES.

1. Many of us who are advanced beyond the period of childhood, went out from home to embark on the stormy sea of life. Of the feelings of a father, and of his interest in our welfare, we have never entertained a doubt, and our home was dear because he was there; but there was a peculiarity 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 _one place_ where we would always be welcome, _one place_ where we would be met 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 our studies or our business. The new friends which we supposed we had made, might prove to be false. The honor which we thought we deserved, might be withheld from us. We might be chagrined and mortified by seeing a rival outstrip us, and bear away the prize which we sought. But there _was_ a place where no feelings of rivalry were found, and where those whom the world overlooked, would be sure of a friendly greeting. Whether pale and wan by study, care, or sickness, or flushed with health and flattering success, we were _sure_ that we should be welcome there.

3. Though the world was cold toward us, yet there was _one_ who always rejoiced in our success, and always was affected in our reverses; and there was a _place_ to which we might go back from the storm which began to pelt us, where we might rest, and become encouraged and invigorated for 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 darkness of night began to draw on, and there was no shelter abroad, and it sought its way back to its nest, to take shelter beneath its mother's wings, and to be refreshed for the struggles of a new day; but then it flew 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 go forth alone to the manly duties of life. Even amidst the storms that then beat upon us, and the disappointments that we met with, and the coldness of the world, we felt still that there _was one_ who sympathized in our troubles, as well as rejoiced in our success, and that, whatever might be abroad, when we entered the door of her dwelling, we should be met with a smile. We expected that a mother, like the 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 her joy and ours in our earlier days.

5. It makes a sad desolation when, from such a place, a mother is taken away, 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 our childhood may be still lovely. The old family mansion--the green fields--the running stream--the moss-covered well--the trees--the lawn--the rose--the sweet-brier--may be there. Perchance, too, there may be an aged father, with venerable locks, sitting in his loneliness, with every thing to command respect and love; but she is not there. Her familiar voice is not heard. The mother has been borne forth to sleep by the side of her children who went before her, and the place is not what it 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 can be; we may have another home, dear to us as was the home of our childhood, where there is all in affection, kindness, and religion, to make 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 bound us to earth, designed to prepare us for our eternal flight from every thing 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 we always welcome? 3. Who always rejoices in our successes, and is affected in 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, the father? 3. What, the sister? 4. What, the brother? 5. What may all write?

* * * * *

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 wish to 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 knows nothing;_ and that the earlier and more thoroughly this lesson is learned, the better it will be for his peace of mind, and his success in life. A young man bred at home, and growing up in the light of parental admiration and fraternal pride, can not readily understand how it is, that every one else can be his equal in talent and acquisition. If bred in the country, he seeks the life of the town, he will very early obtain an idea of his insignificance.

2. This is a critical period in his history. The result of his reasoning will decide his fate. If, at this time, he thoroughly comprehend, and in his soul admit and accept the fact, that _he knows nothing_ and _is nothing;_ if he bow to the conviction that his mind and his person are but ciphers, and that whatever he is _to be_, and is _to win_, must be achieved by _hard work_, there is abundant hope of him.

3. If, on the contrary, a huge self-conceit still hold possession of him, and he straightens stiffly up to the assertion of his old and valueless self,--or, if he sink discouraged upon the threshold of a life of fierce competitions, and more manly emulations, he might as well be a dead man. The world has no use for such a man, and he has only to retire or be trodden upon.

4. When a young man has thoroughly comprehended the fact that _he knows nothing_, and that, intrinsically, he is of but _little value_, the next thing for him to learn is that _the world cares nothing for him_,--that he is the subject of no man's overwhelming admiration and esteem,--that he must take care of himself.

5. If he be a stranger, he will find every man busy with his own affairs, and none to look after him. He will not be noticed until he becomes _noticeable_, and he will not become noticeable, until he _does something_ to prove that he has an absolute value in society. No letter of recommendation will give him this, or ought to give him this. No family connection will give him this, except among those few who think more of blood than brains.

6. Society demands that a young man _shall be somebody_, not only, but that _he shall prove his right to the title_; and it has a right to demand this. Society will not take this matter upon trust,--at least, not for a long time; for it has been cheated too frequently. Society is not 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 a vague desire for _help_,--a wish to _depend_, to _lean_ upon somebody, and enjoy the fruits of the industry of others. There are multitudes of young men who indulge in dreams of help from some quarter, coming in at a convenient moment, to enable them to secure the success in life which they covet. The vision haunts them of some benevolent old gentleman, with a pocket full of money, a trunk full of mortgages and stocks, and a mind remarkably appreciative of merit and genius, who will, perhaps, give or lend them from ten to twenty thousand dollars, with which they will commence and go on swimmingly.

8. To me, one of the most disgusting sights in the world, is that of a young man with healthy blood, broad shoulders, and a hundred and fifty pounds, more or less, of good bone and muscle, standing with his hands in his pockets, longing for help. I admit that there are positions in which the most independent spirit may accept of assistance,--may, in fact, as a choice of evils, desire it; but for a man who is able to help himself, to desire the help of others in the accomplishment of his plans of life, is positive proof that he has received a most unfortunate training, or that there is a leaven of meanness in his composition, that should make him shudder.

9. When, therefore, a young man has ascertained and fully received the fact that he does not know any thing, that the world does not care any thing about him, that what he wins must be won by his own brain and brawn, and that while he holds in his own hands the means of gaining his own livelihood and the objects of his life, he can not receive assistance without compromising his self-respect and selling his freedom, he is in a fair position for beginning life. When a young man becomes aware that only by _his own efforts_ can he rise into companionship and competition with the sharp, strong, and well-drilled minds 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 and enterprise. This is, perhaps, one of the most difficult to learn, of all the lessons of life. It is natural for the mind to reach out eagerly for immediate results.

11. As manhood dawns, and the young man catches in its first light the pinnacles of realized dreams, the golden domes of high possibilities, and the purpling hills of great delights, and then looks down upon the narrow, sinuous, long, and dusty path by which others have reached them, he is apt to be disgusted with the passage, and to seek for success through broader channels, by quicker means. Beginning at the very foot of the hill, and working slowly to the top, seems a very discouraging process; and precisely at this point, have thousands of young men made shipwreck of their lives.

12. Let this be understood, then, at starting; that the patient conquest of difficulties, which rise in the regular and legitimate channels of business and enterprise, is not only essential in securing the successes which you seek, but it is essential to that preparation of your mind, requisite for the enjoyment of your successes, and for retaining them when gained. It is the general rule of Providence, the world over, and in all time, that unearned success is a curse. It is the rule of Providence, that the process of earning success, shall be the preparation for its conservation and enjoyment.

13. So, day by day, and week by week; so, month after month, and year after year, _work on_, and in that process gain strength and symmetry, and nerve and knowledge, that when success, patiently and bravely worked for, shall come, it may find you prepared to receive it and keep it. The development which you will get in this brave and patient labor, will prove itself, in the end, the most valuable of your successes. It will help 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 your fellows 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 demand of 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 is a 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 and military 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 aristocratic party of his time, and contributed to the banishment of Themistocles, the leader of the opposite party. He was also the political opponent of Pericles.]

[Headnote 3: PER' I CLES, an Athenian statesman, born about 495 before Christ. He labored to make Athens the capital of all Greece, and the seat of art and refinement.]

[Headnote 4: PLA' TO, a celebrated Greek philosopher, born in Athens about 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 of Themistocles,[Headnote 1] of Cimon,[Headnote 2] of Pericles,[Headnote 3] and full of a foolish ambition, after having received some lessons from the sophists, who promised to render them very great politicians, believed themselves capable of every thing, and aspired to fill the highest places. One of them, named Glaucon, took it so strongly in his head that he had a _peculiar genius_ for public affairs, although he was not yet twenty years of age, that no person in his family, nor among his friends, had the power to divert him from a notion so little befitting his 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, that he 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 the philosopher, "since, if you succeed in it, you will be in a state to serve your friends, to enlarge your house, and to extend the limits of your 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 and admiration of everybody." A beginning so flattering pleased the young man exceedingly, and he very willingly continued the conversation. "Since you desire to make yourself esteemed and respected, it is clear that you think to render yourself useful to the public." "Assuredly." "Tell me, then, I beseech you, what is the first service that you intend to render the state?"

4. As Glaucon appeared to be perplexed, and considered what he ought to answer,--"Probably," replied Socrates, "it will be to enrich the republic, that is to say, to increase its revenues." "Exactly so." "And, undoubtedly, you know in what the revenues of the state consist, and the extent to which they may be increased. You will not have failed to make it 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 assure you," answered Glaucon, "that this is what I have never thought of."

5. "Tell me, at least, then, the necessary expenses of maintaining the republic. You can not fail to know of what importance it is to retrench those which are superfluous." "I confess to you that I am not more instructed with regard to this article than the other." "Then it is necessary to defer till another time the design that you have of enriching the republic; for it is impossible for you to benefit the state while you are ignorant of its revenues and expenses."

6. "But," said Glaucon, "there is still another means that you pass over in silence,--one can enrich a state by the ruin of its enemies." "You are right." replied Socrates, "but, in order to do that, you must be the more powerful; otherwise you run the risk of losing that which you possess. So, he who speaks of undertaking a war, ought to know the power of both parties, to the end that if he finds his party the stronger, he may boldly risk the adventure; but, if he find it the weaker, he should dissuade the people from undertaking it.

7. "But, do you know what are the forces of our republic, by sea and by land, and what are those of our enemies'? have you a statement of them in 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, "that we shall not make war so soon, if they intrust _you_ with the government; for there remain many things for you to know, and many cares to take."

8. The sage mentioned many other articles, not less important, in which he found Glaucon equally inexperienced, and he pointed out how ridiculous they render themselves, who have the rashness to intermeddle with government, without bringing any other preparation to the task than _a great degree of self-esteem and excessive ambition_. "Fear, my dear Glaucon," said Socrates, "fear, lest a too ardent desire for honors should blind you; and cause you to take a part that would cover you with shame, in bringing to light your incapacity, and want of talent."

9. The youth was wise enough to profit by the good advice of his instructor, and took some time to gain private information, before he ventured to appear in public. This lesson is for all ages.

QUESTIONS.--1. To what did the young people of Athens aspire? 2. What did Glaucon believe he possessed? 3. Who succeeded in making him change his resolution? 4. How did Socrates do this? 5. What did Socrates finally say to him?

* * * * *

LESSON LXXXVII.

CREST, topmost height.
TOR' RENTS, rushing streams.
TYPE, symbol; token.
AE' RIE, (_â' 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 aërie 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 its flights. 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 is there peculiar in the construction of the first, third, and fifth lines of 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 between Asia 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 be built over the Hellespont; but the work having been destroyed by a storm, he was greatly enraged against the sea, and ordered it to be lashed, 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, made July 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 the Declaration 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, in tow of the "Rhode Island," passed Fortress Monroe, and out to sea. As we gradually passed out, the wind freshened somewhat; but the sun went down in glorious clouds of purple and crimson, and the night was fair and calm above us, though, in the interior of our little vessel, the air had already begun to lose its freshness. We suffered more or less from its closeness through the night, and woke in the morning to find it heavy with impurity, from the breaths of some sixty persons, composing the officers 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, found ourselves on the ocean,--the land only a blue line in the distance. A few more hours, and that had vanished. No sails were visible; and the Passaic, which we had noticed the evening before, was now out of sight. The morning and afternoon passed quietly; we spent most of our time on deck, on account of the confined air below, and, being on a level with the sea, with the spray dashing over us occasionally, amused ourselves with noting its shifting hues and forms, from the deep green of the first long roll, to the foam-crest and prismatic tints of the falling wave.