of actual utility. In determining the object of pursuit, a good question for any one to ask himself, is, - "In what am I deficient?" There will doubtless be answers enough to this question, to awaken all a man's energies, and invigorate his efforts. The next question ought to be, "What will be most useful for me to do?" When this question is settled, let him resolve steadily to prosecute his purpose, and in so doing, his success will be highly probable.

7. Most of us sleep too much. From six and a half, to seven hours' sleep, in the twenty-four, are said, by physicians, to be all that a healthy man requires. To a young man, who has acquired the habit of indulging himself in morning slothfulness, it will be something of a trial, to rise at five o'clock, in both winter and summer; but the self-denial practiced in doing this, will be so fully repaid, in a short time, that we are sure no one, who has waked up to the responsibility of his position, and the incalculable benefits that must result from efforts, such as he is making, will sink down again into disgraceful indolence.

the

8. It is no hardship to rise early; it only requires an effort at first; and when one is fairly awake, and begins to drink in pure morning air, and to feel a refreshing sense of new life and vigor, he rejoices that he is not lost in dullness, or leaden insensibility. The heavy torpor, that we find so hard to overcome in the morning, and which we rest in as a pleasant sensation, is misery, compared to the sense of life that runs through every nerve of body and mind, after pure, cold water has touched the face, and the lungs have expanded with the fresh and invigorating morning air.

9. But next to indolence, with which all are more or less affected, comes want of order, which, in some, is a constitutional defect, and in others, the result of education, or, more corectly speaking, the want of education. But it is never too

late to correct this defect, and the quicker a young man begins, the better. As nothing great can be accomplished without industry and an earnest purpose, so nothing great can be accomplished with any good degree of success, without order. The one is indispensable to the other, and they go hand in hand, as co-workers in the young man's success and elevation.

LESSON LXXXIII.

THE CURE FOR MELANCHOLY.-C. WILCOX.

1. Wouldst thou from sorrow find a sweet relief?
Or is thy heart oppressed with woes untold?
Balm wouldst thou gather for corroding grief?
Pour blessings round thee like a shower of gold.
"T is when the rose is wrapped in many a fold
Close to its heart, the worm is wasting there
Its life and beauty; not when, all unrolled,
Leaf after leaf, its bosom rich and fair

Breathes freely its perfumes throughout the ambient air.
2. Wake thou that sleepest in enchanted bowers,
Lest these lost years should haunt thee on the night
When death is waiting for thy numbered hours
To take their swift and everlasting flight;

Wake, ere the earth-born charms unnerve thee quite,
And be thy thoughts to work divine addressed;
Do something-do it soon with all thy might;
An angel's wing would droop if long at rest,
And God himself, inactive, were no longer blest.
3. Some high or humble enterprise of good
Contemplate, till it shall possess thy mind,
Become thy study, pastime, rest, and food,
And kindle in thy heart a flame refined;

Pray heaven with firmness thy whole soul to bind
To this thy purpose,— to begin, pursue,
With thoughts all fixed, and feelings purely kind,

Strength to complete, and with delight review,
And grace to give the praise where all is ever due.

4. No good of worth sublime will Heaven permit
To light on man as from the passing air;
The lamp of genius, though by nature lit,
If not protected, pruned, and fed with care,
Soon dies, or runs to waste with fitful glare;
And learning is a plant that spreads and towers
Slow as Columbia's aloe, proudly rare,

That 'mid gay thousands, with the suns and showers Of half a century, grows alone before it flowers.

5. Has immortality of name been given

To them that idly worship hills and groves,
And burn sweet incense to the queen of heaven?
Did Newton learn from fancy, as it roves,

To measure worlds, and follow where each moves?
Did Howard gain renown that shall not cease,
By wanderings wild that nature's pilgrim loves?
Or did Paul gain heaven's glory and its peace,
By musing o'er the bright and tranquil isles of Greece?

6. Beware lest thou, from sloth, that would

appear

But lowliness of mind, with joy proclaim
Thy want of worth,- a charge thou couldst not hear
From other lips, without a blush of shame,

Or pride indignant; then be thine the blame,
And make thyself of worth; and thus enlist
The smiles of all the good, the dear to fame:
'Tis infamy to die and not be missed,

Or let all soon forget that thou didst e'er exist.

7. Rouse to some work of high and holy love,
And thou an angel's happiness shalt know,-
Shalt bless the earth while in the world above:
The good begun by thee shall onward flow
In many a branching stream, and wider grow;
The seed that, in these few and fleeting hours,
Thy hands unsparing and unwearied sow,

Shall deck thy grave with amaranthine flowers,
And yield thee fruits divine in heaven's immortal bowers.

LESSON LXXXIV.

SALADIN, MALEK ADHEL, AND ATTENDANT.- ANON.

Attendant. A stranger craves admittance to your highness. Saladin. Whence comes he?

Atten. That I know not.

Enveloped in a vestment of strange form,
His countenance is hidden; but his step,
His lofty port, his voice in vain disguised,
Proclaim if that I dared pronounce it,—

Sal. Whom?

Atten. Thy royal brother.

Sal. Bring him instantly. [Exit Attendant.]
Now, with his specious, smooth, persuasive tongue,
Fraught with some wily subterfuge, he thinks
To dissipate my anger. He shall die!

[Enter Attendant and Malek Adhel.]

Sal. Leave us together. [Exit Attendant.] [Aside.] I should know that form.

Now summon all thy fortitude, my soul,

Nor, though thy blood cry for him, spare the guilty. [Aloud.] Well, stranger, speak; but first unveil thyself,

For Saladin must view the form that fronts him.

Malek Adhel. Behold it, then!

Sal. I see a traitor's visage.

Mal. Ad. A brother's.

Sal. No!

Saladin owns no kindred with a villain.

Mal. Ad. Oh, patience, Heaven! Had any tongue but thine Uttered that word, it ne'er should speak another.

Sal. And why not now? Can this heart be more pierced

By Malek Adhel's sword than by his deeds?

Oh, thou hast made a desert of this bosom!
For open candor, planted sly disguise;
For confidence, suspicion; and the glow
Of generous friendship, tenderness, and love,
Forever banished. Whither can I turn,
When he by blood, by gratitude, by faith,
By every tie bound to support, forsakes me!
Who, who can stand, when Malek Adhel falls?
Henceforth I turn me from the sweets of love:
The smiles of friendship, and this glorious world,
In which all find some heart to rest upon,
Shall be to Saladin a cheerless void,-
His brother has betrayed him!

Mal. Ad. Thou art softened;

I am thy brother, then; but late thou saidst
My tongue can never utter the base title.

Sal. Was it traitor? True!

Thou hast betrayed me in my fondest hopes.
Villain 'Tis just; the title is appropriate.
Dissembler? "T is not written in thy face;
No, nor imprinted on that specious brow;
But on this breaking heart the name is stamped,-
Forever stamped, with that of Malek Adhel.

Thinkest thou I'm softened? By Mohammed! these hands