As to the highest turret-tops
Was splashed the yellow foam.

Alone stood brave Horatius,

But constant still in mind; Thrice thirty thousand foes before, And the broad flood behind. "Down with him!" cried false Sextus, With a smile on his pale face.

66

'Now yield thee!" cried Lars Porsena,

Now yield thee to our grace!"

Round turned he, as not deigning
Those craven ranks to see;
Nought spake he to Lars Porsena,
To Sextus nought spake he :
But he saw on Palatinus

The white porch of his home;
And he spake to the noble river
That rolls by the towers of Rome.

"O Tiber! Father Tiber!

To whom the Romans pray,
A Roman's life, a Roman's arms,
Take thou in charge this day!"
So he spake, and speaking, sheathed
The good sword by his side,
And with his harness on his back
Plunged headlong in the tide.

No sound of joy or sorrow

Was heard from either bank;

But friends and foes in dumb surprise,
With parted lips and straining eyes
Stood gazing where he sank;
And when above the surges
They saw his crest appear,

All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry,
And even the ranks of Tuscany
Could scarce forbear to cheer.

But fiercely ran the current,
Swollen high by months of rain;
And fast his blood was flowing,
And he was sore in pain,
And heavy with his armour,

And spent with changing blows;
And oft they thought him sinking,
But still again he rose.

Never, I ween, did swimmer,
In such an evil case,

Struggle through such a raging flood
Safe to the landing-place :

But his limbs were borne up bravely

By the brave heart within,
And our good Father Tiber
Bare bravely up his chin.

And now he feels the bottom;
Now on dry earth he stands;
Now round him throng the fathers
To press his gory hands;

And now, with shouts and clapping,
And noise of weeping loud,

He enters through the River-Gate,

Borne by the joyous crowd. MACAULAY.

Horatius.--After the expulsion of the kings from Rome,
Sextus, the last of the kings, applied to Lars Porsena,
King of Etruria, for aid to assist him in recovering
his throne. The aid was granted; an army marched
upon Rome, and would have taken it, had not Horatius,
Lartius, and Herminius kept the whole army at bay
until the bridge across the Tiber was cut down.
The fathers. The name given to the Roman Senate.
The yellow foam.-The Roman poets always speak of the
Tiber as the yellow Tiber, from the colour of its waters.
Palatinus.-One of the seven hills on which Rome was built.
Father Tiber.-The Romans worshipped the deity of the
Tiber.

Tuscany.-The modern name of ancient Etruria.

QUESTIONS:-1. On what story is this poem founded? 2. Who was Sextus? 3. Who was Lars Porsena? 4. What was Palatinus? 5. Who were the fathers? 6. Why were they so called?

A GREAT deal of shipbuilding was carried on at

our navy-yard during the war. Two thousand

men or more were at work on gunboats and ironclads. Heavy timber, the slow growth of many a noble forest tree, lay in every direction. How many a stroke of the axe was necessary to hew and shape it to its proper ends! Walking round one day, we noticed curious small marks on the wood, made with chalk, some round, some square, some oblong. They were not in any regular order, showing how part was to fit part, and so we asked, "What do these marks mean?"

"Flaws in the wood," said a workman, "worm holes, and specks of rot. The timber has to be carefully examined, and all these promptly remedied. They must be cut out, and a sound piece of wood morticed in, or a bolt driven in, else they spread and do damage. Many a fine ship has been lost by not taking them in time."

Who would think a little worm-hole or a speck of rot had to be guarded against like that? What harm could a small flaw do to those giant timbers ? Ah, they spread; that is the harm.

Just like little faults, I thought; small bad habits, which, if not checked and corrected in time, will grow. There is the danger. They will grow and spread, and weaken everything that is good and sound. Taking things without leave when you are a child, may make you to be a robber and a thief or a defaulter when you grow up.

Little deceivings will lead to falsehoods; white lies will soon turn to black lies; cross, fretful words grow to cross, fretful tempers. A

cigar and a glass of beer, which, I am sorry to

see, little boys are sometimes so foolish as to indulge in, will form those drinking habits which will be their ruin,