arriva at Rome, it had reached its meridian. Its powerful rays now diverged in every direction, filling the then known world. with light, and lending its kindly influence to every individual 5. Of all the races of men, ours was the last to feel the grateful effects of civilization. While others were enjoying its favors, we knew not of it. We had never heard its name, or tasted its magic charms. But now we are elevated, and they depressed; we have become polished, and they turned barbarians. The Asiatic can no longer look with proud disdain upon his fellow-men, for he has lost his former influence, power, and authority, and has become weak, effeminate, and contemptible. The Egyptian cannot now regard himself with his former complacency, for he and all his race have become, like the camel of his desert, mere beasts of burden, — the hewers of wood and drawers of water.

6. It is a matter of thankfulness, then, to live at an age of the world, when we can enjoy the benefit of others' experience without incurring their misfortunes; and to form a part of that society, the furthest in advance, and under the most complete influence of civilization.

7. The man of expanded intellect, of cultivated mind, need never look abroad for society, for he can never be alone. Earth, air, and sea, all speak to him in living tongues; every object in nature becomes vocal,- the most stupendous and most minute,- all fill him with wonder and admiration. Earth becomes to him a living being. He studies its nature, its form, its motion, and tries to discover if it too must die. Air, with its myriads of animalcula which come into the world, grow old and die, all in the same instant; the ocean, with its majesty and power, with its vast expanse and unknown depths, are all subjects to him of the most delightful contemplation, sources of the richest and liveliest joy.

8. The spirits of the venerable dead, too, all bear him

company; they are the companions of his morning walks, and in the evening, at his bed-side. Then, in the stillness and darkness of the night, leaning upon his couch, and whispering in his ear, they tell him of the mighty work of world's creation, and of the gigantic power which shall effect its dissolution.

LESSON XCI.

GLORIOUS NEW ENGLAND. PRENTISS

1. Glorious New England! thou art still true to thy ancient fame, and worthy of thy ancestral honors. We, thy children, have assembled in this far-distant land to celebrate thy birthday. A thousand fond associations throng upon us, roused by the spirit of the hour. On thy pleasant valleys rest, like sweet dews of morning, the gentle recollections of our early life; around thy hills and mountains cling, like gathering mists, the mighty memories of the Revolution; and, far away in the horizon of thy past, gleam, like thy own bright northern lights, the awful virtues of our pilgrim sires!

2. But while we devote this day to the remembrance of our native land, we forget not that in which our happy lot is cast. We exult in the reflection, that though we count by thousands the miles which separate us from our birth-place, still our country is the same. We are no exiles, meeting upon the banks of a foreign river, to swell its waters with our homesick tears. Here floats the same banner which rustled above our boyish heads, except that its mighty folds are wider, and its glittering stars increased in number.

3. The sons of New England are found in every state of the broad Republic. In the east, the south, and the unbounded west, their blood mingles freely with every kindred current. We have but changed our chamber in the paternal mansion;

in all its rooms we are at home, and all who inhabit it are our brothers. To us, the Union has but one domestic hearth; its household gods are all the same. Upon us, then, peculiarly devolves the duty of feeding the fires upon that kindly hearth; of guarding, with pious care, those sacred household gods.

4. We cannot do with less than the whole Union; to us it admits of no division. In the veins of our children flows northern and southern blood. How shall it be separated? who shall put asunder the best affections of the heart, the noblest instincts of our nature? We love the land of our

adoption; so do we that of our birth. Let us ever be true to both and always exert ourselves in maintaining the unity of our country, the integrity of the Republic.

5. Accursed, then, be the hand put forth to loosen the golden cord of Union! thrice accursed, the traitorous lips which shall propose its severance. But no! the Union cannot be dissolved. Its fortunes are too brilliant to be marred; its destinies too powerful to be resisted. Here will be their greatest triumph, their most mighty development.

6. And, when, a century hence, the Crescent city shall have filled her golden horns, when within her broad-armed port shall be gathered the products of the industry of a hundred millions of freemen,- when galleries of art, and halls of learning, shall have made classic this mart of trade, then sons of pilgrims still wandering from the bleak hills of the north, stand upon the banks of the Great river, and exclaim, with mingled pride and wonder, "Lo, this is our country;

may

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when did the world ever behold so rich and magnificent a city, so great and glorious a Republic!"

LESSON XCII.

THE AMERICAN PATRIOT'S SONG. ANON.

[Let the pupil scan this piece, and tell the kinds of measure i■ which it is written.]

1. Hark! hear ye the sounds that the winds, on their pinions, Exultingly roll from the shore to the sea,

With a voice that resounds through her boundless dominions! "Tis Columbia calls on her sons to be free!

2. Behold on yon summits, where heaven has throned her, How she starts from her proud, inaccessible sea;

With nature's impregnable ramparts around her,

And the cataract's thunder and foam at her feet

3. In the breeze of her mountains her loose locks are shaken,
While the soul-stirring notes of her warrior-song
From the rock to the valley re-echo, “Awaken!
Awaken! ye hearts that have slumbered too long

4. Yes, despots! too long did your tyranny hold us,
In a vassàlage vile, ere its weakness was known;
Till we learned that the links of the chain that controlled us
Were forged by the fears of its captives alone.

5. That spell is destroyed, and no longer availing,
Despised as detested, pause well ere ye dare.
To cope with a people, whose spirit and feeling
Are roused by remembrance, and steeled by despair.

6. Go tame the wild torrent, or stem with a straw

The proud surges that sweep o'er the strand that confines them;

But presume not again to give freemen a law,

Nor think with the chains they have broken to bind them.

7. To hearts that the spirit of liberty flushes,

Resistance is idle, and numbers, a dream;

They burst from control, as the mountain-stream rushes
From its fetters of ice in the warmth of the beam.

LESSON XCIII.

SELECT EXTRACTS.

[Let the pupil determine the kinds of emotion exemplified in the following extracts, and refer to the rule or rules for reading each.]

SHYLOCK'S & ADDRESS TO ANTONIO.-SHAKSPEARE.

1. Signior Antonio,b many a time and oft,

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In the Rialto you have rated me

About my moneys, and my usances:
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug;
For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe:
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat, dog,

And spit upon my Jewish gabardine,

And all for use of that which is mine own.

2. Well then, it now appears, you need my help:
Go to, then; you come to me, and you say,
"Shylock, we would have moneys;" you say so;
You, that did void your rheum upon my beard,
And foot me, as you spurn a stranger cur
Over your threshold; moneys is your suit.

3. What shall I say to you?

Should I not say,

"Hath a dog money is it possible,

A cur can lend three thousand ducats?" or

Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key,

With 'bated breath, and whispering humbleness,

Shylock, here represents a Jew. Antonio, here represented as a merchant os Venice. Rialto, a magnificent bridge over the grand canal in Venice.