Chapter XVII: Section V: The Rhetorical Pause (11)

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 Rome about the year 1310. He was assassinated Oct. 8th, 1354 He was a person of extraordinary eloquence. In his day, Rome was a prey to contending factions of nobles. This kept the city in constant turmoil, and subjected the people to continual abuse and tyranny. It was the endeavor of 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 people were? 2. What wrongs are complained of? 3. What special cases are mentioned? 4. What are the people exhorted to do? 5. What is the meaning of 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 notation mark, should the first part of the third verse be read? 8. What rule for the 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 three hundred men, perished in the effort to resist the Persian hosts, at the mountain 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 the forces 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 the English invading army, under Edward II., fought, June 25, 1314.]

[Headnote 4: AR MA' DA, a great naval armament sent by Philip II. of Spain, 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 is said 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 his gift can be enjoyed, and remember that every moment of delay takes away something from the value of his benefaction. And let him who proposes his own happiness, reflect, that while he forms his purpose, the days roll 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 by truth and supported by the smile of God,--he who meets life's perils with a cautious but tranquil spirit, gathers strength by facing its storms, and dies, if he is called to die, as a Christian victor at the post of duty. And, if we must have heroes, and wars wherein to make them, there is none so brilliant as a war with wrong,--no hero so fit to be 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 the polisher fetches out the colors, makes the surface shine, and discovers every ornamental cloud, spot, and vein that runs through the body of it. Education, after the same manner, when it works upon a noble mind, draws out every latent virtue and perfection, which, without such helps, are never 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 from our hearts, this last, this sweetest consolation? Would you darken the only avenue through which one ray of hope can enter? Would you tear from the aged and infirm poor the only prop on which their souls can repose in peace? Would you deprive the dying of their only source of consolation? Would you rob the world of its richest treasure? Would you let loose the flood-gates of every vice, and bring back upon the earth the horrors of superstition, or the atrocities of atheism? Then endeavor to subvert the gospel; throw around you the firebrands of infidelity; laugh at religion, and make a mockery of futurity; but be assured that for 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 his limbs, and starve his faculties'? Plant the earth, cover a thousand hills with your droves of cattle, pursue the fish to their hiding-places in the sea, and spread out your wheat-fields across the plain, in order to supply the wants of that body which will soon be as cold and as senseless as the poorest clod, and let the pure spiritual essence within you, with all its glorious capacities for improvement, languish and pine'?

2. What`! build factories, turn in rivers upon the water-wheels, unchain the imprisoned spirits of steam, to weave a garment for the body, and let the soul remain unadorned and naked'? What`! send out your vessels to the furthest ocean, and make battle with the monsters of the deep, in order to obtain the means of lighting up your dwellings and workshops, and prolonging the hours of labor for the meat that perisheth, and permit that vital spark, which God has kindled, which He has intrusted to 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 and adamantine rocks on which they rest, have melted away`!--that a light may _there_ be kindled which will shine, not merely when every artificial beam is extinguished, but when the affrighted sun has fled away 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. "Passing away," is written on all things; and passing away is passing on from strength to strength, from glory to glory. Spring has its growth, summer its fruitage, and autumn its festive in-gathering. The spring of eager preparation waxes into the summer of noble work; mellowing in its turn into the serene autumn, the golden-brown haze of October, when the soul may robe itself in jubilant drapery, awaiting the welcome command, "Come up higher," where mortality shall be swallowed up in life.

2. Why, then, should autumn tinge our thoughts with sadness. We fade as the leaf, and the leaf fades only to revivify. Though it fall, it shall rise again. Does the bud fear to become a blossom, or the blossom shudder as it swells into fruit; and shall the redeemed weep that they must become glorified'? Strange inconsistency`! We faint with the burden and the heat of the day. We bow down under the crosses that are laid upon our shoulders. We are bruised and torn by the snares and pitfalls which beset our way, and into which our unwary feet often fall.

3. We are famished, and foot-sore, and travel-stained, from our long journey, and yet we are saddened by tokens that we shall pass away from all these,--away from sin and sorrow, from temptation and fall, from disappointment, and weary waiting, and a fearful looking-for of evil, to purity and holiness, and the full fruition of every hope,--bliss which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor heart conceived,--to a world whence all that made this dreary is forever banished, and where all that made this delightful is forever renewed and increased,--a world where the activities and energies of the soul shall have full scope, and love and recognition wait upon its steps forever.

4. Let him alone fear, who does not fade as the leaf,--him whose sources are not in God, and who does not draw his life thence,--him whose spring is gathering no strength, whose summer is maturing no fruit, and whose autumn shall have no vintage. Is not this the real sorrow of us all? not a dread of change, but a secret consciousness of wasted power,--of disloyalty to God, as the supreme object of our love and service.

5. Yet even here the fading leaf brings hope. Our future is always before us. The past is fixed. No tears can wash away its facts. Let us waste no vain regrets upon it; but, from the wisdom which its very mistakes and sins have bequeathed us, start afresh on the race. Though yesterday we were weak, and selfish, and indolent, let us to-day--at this moment--begin to be strong, and brave, and helpful, and just, and generous, and considerate, and tender, and truthful, and pure, and patient, and forgiving. "Now" is a glorious word. "HENCEFORTH" is always within 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 reason to 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 Jewish history:--"It was the custom of the Jews to select the tenth of their sheep after this manner: The lambs were separated from their dams, and inclosed in a sheep-cot, with only one narrow way out; the lambs hastened to join the dams, and a man, placed at the entrance, with a rod dipped in ocher, touched every tenth lamb, and so marked it with his rod, saying, 'LET THIS BE HOLY.' Hence, God says by his prophet, '_I will 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 cause you to pass under the rod?_" See note. 2. Where is that passage found in the Scriptures? Ans. Ezekiel, 20th chap., 37th verse. 3. What instances are 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 to bring me a pair of boots from the closet; and he has brought me two rights, 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,--rather something 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 the crossest little man I have met with in the new country. You might scrape old 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 this very day!

_Michael_. I'm thinking of discharging _you_, if you don't take better care of that _sweet temper_ of yours.

_Grim_. Leave the room, sir!

_Michael_. That I will, in search of better company, saving the lady's presence. [_Exit._

_Grim_. There, cousin! there is a specimen of my provocations! Can you wonder at my losing my temper?

_Cousin_. Cousin Grim, that would be the most _fortunate_ thing that could befall you.

_Grim_. What do you mean?

_Cousin_. I mean, if you could only _lose that temper_ of yours, it would be a blessed thing for you; though I should pity the poor fellow who _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 a nuisance to yourself and every body about you.

_Grim_. Really, Miss Mary Somerville, you are getting to be complimentary!

_Cousin_. No; I am getting to be _candid_. I have passed a week in your house, 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 bringing you the wrong boots, to justify your flying into a rage, and bellowing as 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 me five pounds of Hyson tea, when I wrote for Souchong'? Didn't you send a carriage for me to the cars, half an hour too late, so that I had to hire one myself, after great trouble'? And did I roar at you, when we met, because you had done these things'?

_Grim_. On the contrary, this is the first time you have alluded to them. I am sorry they should have happened. But surely you should make a _distinction_ between any such little oversight of mine, and the stupidity of a servant, hired to attend to your orders.

_Cousin_. I do not admit that there should be a distinction. You are both human; only, as you have had the better education, and the greater advantages, stupidity or neglect on your part, is much the more culpable.

_Grim_. Thank you! Go on.

_Cousin_. I mean to; so don't be impatient. If an uncooked potato, or a burnt mutton-chop, happens to fall to your lot at the dinner-table, what a tempest follows! One would think you had been wronged, insulted, trampled on, driven to despair. Your face is like a thunder-cloud, all the rest of the meal. Your poor wife endeavors to hide her tears. Your children feel timid and miserable. Your guest feels as if she would like to see you held under the nose of the pump, and thoroughly ducked.

_Grim_. The carriage is waiting for you, Miss Somerville, and the driver has 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, miserable excuse! I have turned down a leaf in Dr. Johnson's works, and will read what 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: "There is in the world a class of mortals known, and contentedly known, by the appellation of _passionate men_, who imagine themselves entitled, by this distinction, to be provoked on every slight occasion, and to vent their rage in vehement and fierce vociferations, in furious menaces, and licentious reproaches."

_Grim_. That will do.

_Cousin_. "Men of this kind," he tells us, "are often pitied rather than censured, and are not treated with the severity which their neglect of the ease of all about them, might justly provoke." But he adds: "It is surely not to be observed without indignation, that men may be found of minds mean enough to be satisfied with this treatment; wretches who are proud 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 man in his own house.

_Cousin_. So, when, at a loss for a vindication, you reproach me with being an old maid! Cousin, it does not distress me, either to be an old maid, or to be called one. I must, however, remark, that the manhood that can charge against a woman her single state, either as a matter of ridicule 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? Why not present an unruffled front to petty annoyances? Why not labor,--ay, labor,--to have those around you happy and contented, by reflecting from yourself such a frame of mind upon them?

Life is short, at the best; why not make it cheerful? Do you know that longevity 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, as well as good sense, demand that we should look at objects on their bright side'? Do you know that it is contemptible selfishness in you to shed gloom and sorrow over a whole family by your moroseness and ill-humor'?

_Grim_. Cousin Mary, the patience with which I have listened to your cutting remarks, will prove to you, I hope, that, notwithstanding my angry retorts, I am convinced there is much truth in what you have said of me. I have a favor to ask. Send away your carriage; stay a week longer,--a month,--a year, if you will. Hold the lash over this ugly temper of mine,--and I give you my word that I will set about the cure of it in earnest.

_Cousin_. You should have begun earlier,--in youth, when the temper is pliable, and strong impressions can work great changes. But we will not despair. I will tarry with you a while, just to see if you are serious in 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 total abstinence from all harsh, unkind moods and expressions? Come, we will try.

QUESTIONS.--1. At what was Mr. Grim offended? 2. What did Cousin Mary say 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 of such men? 6. What did Cousin Mary finally say to him? 7. Of what was he convinced? 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 English prose by Macaulay, who says:--"Thus, or nearly thus, if we remember rightly, 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 the universe, examine the interminable range of suns and systems which crowd the Milky-Way. Multiply the hundred millions of stars which belong to our own "island universe" by the thousands of these astral systems that exist in space, within the range of human vision, and _then_ you may form some idea of the _infinitude_ of His kingdom; for lo! these are but a part of His ways.

2. Examine the scale on which the universe is built. Comprehend, if you can, the vast dimensions of our sun. Stretch outward through his system, from planet to planet, and circumscribe the whole within the immense circumference of Neptune's orbit. This is but a single unit out of the myriads of similar systems.

3. Take the wings of light, and flash with impetuous speed, day and night, and month, and year, till youth shall wear away, and middle age is gone, and the extremest limit of human life has been attained;--count every pulse, and, at each, speed on your way a hundred thousand miles; and when a hundred years have rolled by, look out, and behold! the thronging millions of blazing suns are still around you, each separated from 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's existence,--go to the astronomer, and bid him lead you in one of his walks through space; and, as he sweeps outward from object to object, from universe to universe, remember that the light from those filmy stains on the deep pure blue of heaven, now falling on your eye, has been traversing space for a million of years.

5. Would you gather some knowledge of the _omnipotence_ of God,--weigh the earth on which we dwell, then count the millions of its inhabitants that have come and gone for the last six thousand years. Unite their strength into one arm, and test its power in an effort to move this earth. It could not stir it a single foot in a thousand years; and yet under the omnipotent hand of God, not a minute passes that it does not fly more than a thousand miles.

6. But this is a mere atom,--the most insignificant point among his innumerable worlds. At his bidding, every planet, and satellite, and comet, and the sun himself, fly onward in their appointed courses. His single arm guides the millions of sweeping suns, and around His throne circles the great constellation of unnumbered universes.

7. Would you comprehend the idea of the _omniscience_ of God,--remember that the highest pinnacle of knowledge reached by the whole human race, by the combined efforts of its brightest intellects, has enabled the astronomer to compute approximately the perturbations of the planetary worlds. He has predicted roughly the return of half a score of comets. But God has computed the mutual perturbations of millions of suns, and planets, and comets, and worlds, without number, through the ages that are passed, and throughout the ages which are yet to come, not approximately, but with perfect and absolute precision.

8. The universe is in motion,--system rising above system, cluster above cluster, nebula above nebula,--all majestically sweeping around under the providence of God, who alone knows the end from the beginning, and before whose glory and power all intelligent beings, whether in heaven or on earth, should bow with humility and awe.

9. Would you gain some idea of the _wisdom_ of God,--look to the admirable adjustments of the magnificent retinue of planets and satellites which sweep around the sun. Every globe has been weighed and poised, every orbit has been measured and bent to its beautiful form.

10. All is changing; but the laws fixed by the wisdom of God, though they permit the rocking to and fro of the system, never introduce disorder, or lead to destruction. All is perfect and harmonious, and the music of the spheres that burn and roll around our sun, is echoed by that of ten millions of moving worlds, that sing and shine around the bright suns that reign above.

11. If, overwhelmed with the grandeur and majesty of the universe of God, we are led to exclaim with the Hebrew poet-king,--"When I consider Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which Thou hast ordained, what is man, that Thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that Thou visitest him?"--If fearful that the eye of God may overlook us in the immensity of His kingdom, we have only to call to mind that other passage, "Yet Thou hast made him but a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honor. Thou madest him to have dominion over all the works of Thy hand; Thou hast put all things under his feet." Such are the teachings of the word, and such are the 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 I am permitted to partake, on the present solemn occasion, in paying the tribute of honor and gratitude to the memory of your immortal Washington.

2. An architect having raised a proud and noble building to the service of the Almighty, his admirers desired to erect a monument to his memory. How was it done? His name was inscribed upon the wall, with these additional words: "You seek his monument--look around."

3. Let him who looks for a monument of Washington look around the United States. The whole country is a monument to him. Your freedom, your independence, your national power, your prosperity, and your prodigious growth, is a monument to Washington.

4. There is no room left for panegyric, none especially to a stranger whom you had full reason to charge with arrogance, were he able to believe that his feeble voice could claim to be noticed in the mighty harmony of a nation's praise. Let me, therefore, instead of such an arrogant attempt, pray that that God, to whose providential intentions Washington was a glorious instrument, may impart to the people of the United States the same wisdom for the conservation of the present prosperity of the land and for its future security, which he gave to Washington for the foundation of it.

5. I yield to nobody in the world in reverence and respect to the immortal memory of Washington. His life and his principles were the guiding star of my life; to that star I looked up for inspiration and advice, during the vicissitudes of my stormy life. Hence I drew that devotion to my country and to the cause of national freedom, which you, gentlemen, and millions of your fellow-citizens, and your national government, are so kind as to honor by unexampled distinction.

6. Sir, I have studied the history of your immortal Washington, and have, from my early youth, considered his principles as a living source of 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 French Republic, Washington, as President of the United States, answered officially, with these memorable words:

"Born in a land of liberty, having early learned its value, having engaged in a perilous conflict to defend it, having devoted the best years of my life to secure its permanent establishment in my country, my anxious recollections, my sympathetic feelings, and my best wishes, are irresistibly attracted, whensoever in any country I see an oppressed nation unfurl the banner of freedom."

7. Thus spoke Washington. Have I not then full reason to say, that if he were alive his generous sympathy would be with me; and the sympathy of a Washington never was, and never would be, a barren word. Washington, who raised the word "honesty" as a rule of policy, never would have professed a sentiment which his wisdom as a statesman would not have approved.

8. Sir! here let me end. I consider it already as an immense benefit that your generous attention connected the cause of Hungary with the celebration of the memory of Washington.

9. Spirit of the departed! smile down from heaven upon this appreciation of my country's cause; watch over those principles which thou hast taken for the guiding star of thy noble life, and the time will yet come when not only thine own country, but liberated Europe, also, will be a living monument 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!