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LESSON VII.

EXPLANATORY NOTE.-1. POPOCATAPETL is a volcano in Mexico, which is constantly in action, throwing out smoke, ashes, and fire.

THE MEMORY OF THE JUST.

PRESCOTT.

1. THE remembrance of the just shall not pass away; the good thou hast done, shall ever be held in honor. The goods of this life, its glories and its riches,--are but lent to us; its substance is but an illusory shadow, and the things of to-day shall change, on the coming of the morrow. All things on earth have their term, and, in the most joyous career of their vanity and splendor, their strength fails, and they sink into the dust. All the round world is but a sepulcher, and there is nothing which lives on its surface, that shall not be hidden and entombed beneath it.

2. Rivers, torrents, and streams, move onward to their destination. Not one flows back to its pleasant source. They rush onward, hastening to bury themselves in the deep bosom of the ocean. The cemetry is full of the lothsome dust of bodies once quickened by living souls, who occupied thrones, presided over assemblies, marshaled armies, subdued provinces, arrogated to themselves worship, were puffed up with vainglorious pomp, and power, and empire.

3. But these glories have all passed away, like the fearful smoke that issues from the throat of PopocatapetI', with no other memorial of their existence, than the record on the page of the chronicler. The great, the wise, the valiant, the beautiful,-alas! where are they now? They are all mingled with the clod; and that which has befallen them, shall happen to Yet let us take courage,

us, and to those that come after us.

let us aspire to that Heaven, where all is eternal, and corrup

tion can not come.

4. "See Truth, Love, and Mercy, in triumph descending,
And Nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom!

On the cold cheek of Death, smiles and roses are blending,
And Beauty immortal awakes from the tomb !"

LESSON VIII.

THE PEN AND THE PRESS.

1. YOUNG GENIUS walked out by the mountain and streams,
Entranced by the power of his own pleasant dreams,
Till the silent-the wayward-the wandering thing
Found a plume that had fallen from a passing bird's wing;
Exulting and proud, like a boy at his play,
He bore the new prize to his dwelling away,
He gazed for a while on its beauties, and then
He cut it, and shaped it, and called it—a PEN.

2. But its magical use he discoverd not yet,

Till he dipp'd its bright lips in a fountain of jet;
And O! what a glorious thing it became,
For it spoke to the world in a language of flame;
While its master wrote on like a being inspired,
Till the hearts of the millions were melted or fired;-
It came as a boon and a blessing to men,
The peaceful-the pure-the victorious PEN!

3. Young Genius went forth on his rambles once more,
The vast sinless caverns of earth to explore!

He searched the rude rock, and with rapture he found
A substance unknown, which he brought from the ground;
He fused it with fire, and rejoiced in the change,
As he molded the ore into characters strange,
Till his thoughts and his efforts were crown'd with suc-
For an engine uprose, and he call'd it—the PRESS.

[cess;

4. The Pen and the Press, blest alliance! combin'd
To soften the heart and enlighten the mind;
For that to the treasures of knowledge gave birth,
And this sent them forth to the ends of the earth;
Their battles for truth were triumphant indeed,
And the rod of the tyrant was snapp'd like a reed;
They were made to exalt us-to teach us to bless
Those invincible brothers-the PEN AND THE PRESS!

LESSON IX.

EXPLANATORY NOTES.-1. In ancient Rome, a PREFECT was a magistrate who governed the city in the absence of the king emperor, or consuls 2. The PROCONSULS were Roman magistrates who were sent to govern a province or state, with the authority of consuls who were invested with kingly power.

3. The PUBLICANS were the collectors of taxes among the Romans. · They were deemed oppressive in their exactions.

LIBERTY AND GREATNESS.

LEGARE.

1. THE name of REPUBLIC is inscribed upon the most imperishable monuments of the human race; and it is probable that it will continue to be associated, as it has been in all past ages, with whatever is heroic in character, sublime in genius, and elegant and brilliant in the cultivation of arts and letters. What land has ever been visited with the influences of liberty, that did not flourish like the spring? What people has ever worshiped at her altars, without kindling with a loftier spirit, and putting forth nobler energies? Where she has ever acted, her deeds have been heroic. Where she has ever spoken, her eloquence has been triumphant and sublime.

2. We live under a form of government, and in a state of society, to which the world has never yet exhibited a parallel. Is it then nothing to be FREE? How many nations in the whole annals of human kind, have proved themselves worthy of being so? Is it nothing that we are REPUBLICANS? Were all men as enlightened, as brave, as proud as they ought to be, would they suffer themselves to be insulted with any other title? Is it nothing that so many independent sovereignties should be held together in such a confederacy as ours? What does history teach us of the difficulty of instituting and maintaining such a polity, and of the glory that ought to be given to those who enjoy its advantages in so much perfection, and on so grand a scale?

3. Can any thing be more striking and sublime, than the idea of an IMPERIAL REPUBLIC, spreading over an extent of territory, more immense than the empire of the Cesars, in the

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accumulated conquests of a thousand years-without prefects, proconsuls, or publicans--founded in the maxims of common sense-employing within itself no arms, but those of reason— and known to its subjects only by the blessings it bestows and perpetuates, yet capable of directing, against a foreign foe all the energies of a military des'potism,-a Republic, in which men are completely insignificant, and principles and laws exercise, throughout its vast domain, a peaceful and irresistible sway, blending, in one divine harmony, such various habits and conflicting opinions, and mingling, in our institutions, the light of philosophy with all that is dazzling in the associations of heroic achievement, extended dominion, and formidable power?

LESSON X.

EXPLANATORY NOTES.-1. The HARTZ are the most northerly mountains in Germany.

2. ODENWALD is an extensive forest and chain of mountains in Western Germany.

DIRECTIONS FOR READING.-In reading or speaking the following Dialogue, the Missionary may be personated by a mild yet firm tone of voice; the Indian, by a heavy and strong tone, indicative of revengeful feelings; except toward the close the voice should become softened.

THE INDIAN'S REVENGE.

MRS. HEMANS.

SCENE IN THE LIFE OF A MORAVIAN MISSIONARY.

SCENE. The shore of a lake surrounded by deep woods. A solitary cabin on its banks, overshadowed by sycamore trees. The hour is evening twilight. HERRMANN, the Missionary, seated alone before the cabin. Herrmann.—Was that the light from some lone swift canoe Shooting across the waters ?-No, a flash From the night's first quick fire-fly, lost again

In the deep bay of cedars. Not a bark

Is on the wave; no rustle of a breeze

Comes through the forest. In this new, strange world,
O, how mysterious, how eternal, seems.

The mighty melancholy of the woods!
The desert's own great spirit, infinite!

Little they know, in mine own father-land,
Along the castled Rhine, or e'en amidst
The wild Hartz' mountains, or the silvan glades
Deep in the Odenwald', they little know

Of what is solitude! In hours like this,
There from a thousand nooks, the cottage-hearths
Pour forth red light through vine-hung lattices,
To guide the peasant, singing cheerily,

On the home path; while round his lowly porch,
With eager eyes awaiting his return,

The clustered faces of his children shine

To the clear harvest moon. Be still, fond thoughts!
Melting my spirit's grasp from heavenly hope
By your vain earthward yearnings. O my God!
Draw me still nearer, closer unto thee,
Till all the hollow of these deep desires
May with Thyself be filled!-Be it enough
At once to gladden and to solemnize
My lonely life, if for Thine altar here
In this dread temple of the wilderness,
By prayer, and toil, and watching, I may win
The offering of one heart, one human heart,
Bleeding, repenting, loving!

Hark! a step,

An Indian tread! I know the stealthy sound'Tis on some quest of evil, through the grass Gliding so serpent-like.

[He comes forward, and meets an Indian warrior armed,1

Enonio, is it thou? I see thy form

Tower stately through the dusk, yet scarce mine eye Discerns thy face.

Enonio.

Herr.

My father speaks my name.

Are not the hunters from the chase returned?
The night-fires lit? Why is my son abroad?
Eno. The warrior's arrow knows of nobler prey
Than elk or deer. Now let my father leave
The lone path free.

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