10. Half the wretchedness and misery in families, arising from temper, or want of economy in the wife, has not been told. Not even the bestial habit of drunkenness in the husband, produces more disastrous consequences. To this cause, also, may be attributed many of the vices of the husband. He will not love home, if his fireside is rendered uncomfortable or unpleasant. And when the love of home is gone, the man is lost. There is no redemption. Better that he had not been!

11. The appearance of the husband, and the condition of the children, faithfully express the character of the wife. If she be the neat, prudent, modest and dignified woman, her husband will proclaim it wherever he goes; in his countenance, in his apparel, in his whole demeanour; it is inscribed on every thing about him. The children, also, will be modest and manly; in clean and whole apparel. If she chance to possess the opposite qualities, her husband will be uneasy, fretful, and gloomy, he knows not why; and her children, impudent and ugly, their apparel unmended and unwashed.

12. These appearances, and they are not images of fancy, as surely foretel the ruin of a family, as does the thunder cloud, the rain, or the rumbling of the mountain, the bursting of a volcano.

13. How important, then, that every husbandman should educate well his daughters, cherishing and maturing all that excellence of mind, and temper, and sincerity of heart, which belong to her sex, pre-eminently fit her for the endearing relations of child, of sister, of wife, and of mother. How important, also, to every young man, that he be blessed with such a connexion.

14. It cannot be too often, or too strongly impressed upon the minds of fathers, and of mothers too, that their daughters hold, in their keeping, the destinies of the present, and, at least, of the generation to come. How desirable, too, that their other virtues be clothed with piety. Pious women have ever been highly favoured of heaven. They were first to listen at the feet of the Saviour, first to weep at his sufferings, last to linger around his cross, first to worship at his sepulchre; to them, first was announced the resurrection. They shall stand

nearest his throne.

8*

LESSON LVI.

Song of Marion's Men.

[The exploits of General Francis Marion, the famous partisan warriour of South Carolina, form an interesting portion of the annals of the American Revolution.]

1. Our band is few, but true and tried,
Our leader, frank and bold;
The British soldier trembles
When Marion's name is told.
Our fortress is the good green wood,
Our tent the cypress tree;
We know the forest round us,

As seamen know the sea.
We know its walls of thorny vines,
Its glades of reedy grass,

Its safe and silent islands

Within the dark morass.

2. Wo to the English soldiery
That little dread us near!
On them shall light, at midnight,
A strange and sudden fear:
When waking to their tents on fire
They grasp their arms in vain,
And they who stand to face us
Are beat to earth again;
And they who fly in terrour, deem
A mighty host behind,

And hear the tramp of thousands
Upon the hollow wind.

3. Then sweet the hour that brings release

From danger and from toil:

We talk the battle over,

And share the battle's spoil.

The woodland rings with laugh and shout,

As if a hunt were up,

And woodland flowers are gathered

To crown the soldier's cup.

With merry songs we mock the wind

That in the pine-top grieves,

And slumber long and sweetly,
On beds of oaken leaves.

4. Well knows the fair and friendly moon
The band that Marion leads;
The glitter of their rifles,

The scampering of their steeds.
"Tis life our fiery barbs to guide
Across the moonlit plains;
"Tis life to feel the night wind
That lifts their tossing manes.
A moment in the British camp,
A moment, and away
Back to the pathless forest,
Before the peep of day.

5. Grave men there are by broad Santee,
Grave men with hoary hairs,
Their hearts are all with Marion,
For Marion are their prayers.
And lovely ladies greet our band,
With kindliest welcoming,
With smiles like those of summer,
And tears like those of spring.

For them we wear these trusty arms,

And lay them down no more

Till we have driven the Briton,

For ever, from our shore.-W. C. BRYANT.

LESSON LVII.

On the Truc Honour of Man.

1. THE proper honour of man arises not from some of those splendid actions and abilities which excite high admiration. Courage and prowess, military renown, signal victories and conquests, may render the name of a man famous, without rendering his character truly honourable. To many brave men, to many heroes renowned in story, we look up with wonder. Their exploits are recorded. Their praises are sung. They stand as on an eminence above the rest of mankind. Their eminence, nevertheless, may not be of that sort before which we bow with inward esteem and respect. Something

more is wanted for that purpose than the conquering arm, and the intrepid mind.

2. The laurels of the warriour must, at all times, be died in blood, and bedewed with the tears of the widow and the orphan. But if they have been stained by rapine and inhumanity; if sordid avarice has marked his character; or low and gross sensuality has degraded his life; the great hero sinks into a little man. What, at a distance, or on a superficial view, we admired, becomes mean, perhaps odious, when we examine it more closely. It is like the Colossal statue, whose immensc size struck the spectator afar off with astonishment; but when nearly viewed, it appears disproportioned, unshapely, and rude 3. Observations of the same kind may be applied to all the reputation derived from civil accomplishments; from the refined politicks of the statesman; or the literary efforts of genius and erudition. These bestow, and, within certain bounds, ought to bestow eminence and distinction on men. They discover talents which, in themselves, are shining, and which become highly valuable when employed in advancing the good of mankind. Hence, they frequently give rise to fame. But a distinction is to be made between fame and true honour.

4. The statesman, the orator, or the poet, may be famous ; while yet the man himself is far from being honoured. We envy his abilities. We wish to rival them. But we would not choose to be classed with him who possesses them. Instances of this sort are too often found in every record of ancient cr modern history.

5. From all this it follows, that in order to discern where man's true honour lies, we must look, not to any adventitious circumstances of fortune; not to any single sparkling quality; but to the whole of what forms a man; what entitles him, as such, to rank high among that class of beings to which he belongs; in a word, we must look to the mind and the soul.

6. A mind superiour to fear, to selfish interest and corruption; a mind governed by the principles of uniform rectitude and integrity; the same in prosperity and adversity; which no bribe can seduce, nor terrour overawe; neither by pleasure melted into effeminacy, nor by distress sunk into dejection; such is the mind which forms the distinction and eminence of man.

7. One who, in no situation of life, is either ashamed or afraid of discharging his duty, and acting his proper part with firmness and constancy; true to the God whom he worships, and true to the faith in which he professes to believe; full of affection to his brethren of mankind; faithful to his friends,

generous to his enemies, warm with compassion to the unfortunate; self-denying to little private interests and pleasures, but zealous for publick interest and happiness; magnanimous, without being proud; humble, without being mean; just, without being harsh; simple in his manners, but manly in his feelings; on whose words we can entirely rely; whose countenance never deceives us; whose professions of kindness are the effusions of his heart: one, in fine, whom, independent of any views of advantage, we would choose for a superiour, could trust in as a friend, and could love as a brother; this is the man, whom in our heart, above all others, we do, we must honour.-BLAIR.

LESSON LVIII.

The Nature of True Eloquence.

1. WHEN publick bodies are to be addressed on momentous occasions, when great interests are at stake, and strong passions excited, nothing is valuable in speech, farther than it is connected with high intellectual and moral endowments. Clearness, force, and earnestness, are the qualities which produce conviction.

2. True eloquence, indeed, does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought from far. Labour and learning may toil for it, but they will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be marsballed in every way, but they cannot compass it. It must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion.

3. Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of decla mation, all may aspire after it; they cannot reach it. It comes, if it come at all, like the outbreaking of a fountain from the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanick fires, with spontaneous, original, native force.

4. The graces taught in the schools, the costly ornaments and studied contrivances of speech, shock and disgust men, when their own lives, and the fate of their wives, their children, and their country, hang on the decision of the hour.

5. Then, words have lost their power, rhetorick is vain, and all elaborate oratory contemptible. Even genius itself then feels rebuked and subdued, as in the presence of higher qualities. Then, patriotism is eloquent; then, self-devotion is eloquent.

6. The clear conception, outrunning the deductions of logick, the high purpose, the firm resolve, the dauntless spirit,