like simplicity, which saved his life; without that simplicity his integrity would have availed him little: in fact, it was his crime; for it was for doing what, according to the principles wherein he had been born and bred, he believed to be his duty, that he was brought to trial and condemned. This it is which renders civil and religious wars so peculiarly dreadful; and, in the history of such wars, every incident which serves to recon eile us to humanity ought carefully to be preserved.

1. By cool Si-lo'am's shady rill

How sweet the lily grows!

How sweet the breath beneath the hil
Of Sharon's dewy rose!

2. Lo! such the child whose early feet
The paths of peace have trod;

Whose secret heart, with influence sweet,
Is upward drawn to God.

3. By cool Siloam's shady rill
The lily must decay,

The rose that blooms beneath the hill

Must shortly fade away.

4 And soon, too soon, the wintry hour
Of man's maturer age

Will shake the soul with sorrow's power,
And stormy passion's rage.

5. O! Thou, whose infant feet were found
Within thy Father's shrine,

Whose years, with changeless virtue crowned,
Were all alike divine,

6. Dependent on thy bounteous breath,

We seek thy grace alone,

In childhood, manhood, age and death,

To keep us still thine own.

BISHOP HEBER.

CXXXVI. - FALSE NOTIONS IN REGARD TO GENIUS.

1. THE labors requisite to form the public speaker are by nc means duly appreciated. An absurd idea prevails among our scholars, that the finest productions of the mind are the fruits of hasty impulse, the unfoldings of a sudden thought, the brief vis itations of a fortunate hour or evening, the flashings of intuition, or the gleamings of fancy. Genius is often compared to lightning from the cloud, or the sudden bursting out of a secret fountain.

2. And eloquence is regarded as if it were a kind of inspiration. When a man has made a happy effort, he is next possessed with an absurd ambition to have it thought that it cost him nothing. He will say, perhaps, that it was a three hours' work. Now, it is not enough to maintain that nothing could be more injurious to our youth than this way of thinking; for the truth is, that nothing can be more false.

3. The mistake lies in confounding with the mere arrangement of thoughts, or the manual labor of putting them on paper, the long previous preparation of mind, the settled habits. of thought. It has taken but three hours, perhaps, to compose - an admirable piece of poetry, or a fine speech; but the reflections of three years, or of thirty, may have been tending to that result.

DEWEY.

1. ALL the comely, the stately, the pleasant, the useful works, which we do view with delight, or enjoy with comfort, Industry did contrive them, Industry did frame them. Industry reared those magnificent fabrics, and those commodious houses; it formed those goodly pictures and statues; it raised those conve nient causeways, those bridges, those aqueducts; it planted those fine gardens with various flowers and fruits; it clothed those pleasant fields with corn and grass; it built those ships, whereby we plough the seas, reaping the commodities of foreign nations 2. It hath subjected all creatures to our command and ser

rice, enabling us to subdue the fiercest, to catch the wildest, to render the gentler sort more tractable and useful to us. I+ taught us, from the wool of the sheep, from the hair of the goat from the labors of the silk-worm, to weave us clothes, to keep us warm, and make us fine and gay. It helpeth us from the innost

bowels of the earth to fetch divers needful tools and utensils.

3. It collected mankind into cities, and compacted them into orderly societies, and devised wholesome laws, under sheiter whereof we enjoy safety and peace, wealth and plenty, mutual succor and defence, sweet conversation and beneficial commerce. It, by meditation did invent all those sciences whereby our minds are enriched and ennobled, our manners are refined and polished, our curiosity is satisfied, our life is benefited.

ISAAC BARROW.

CXXXVIII. PETER THE GREAT AND THE DESERTER.

SCENE II.

STAN MITZ MRS. STANMITZ PETER THE GREAT

(For the preceding scene, see page 211.)

Stanmitz. WELL, mother, I must n't be skulking about here in Moscow any longer. I must leave you, and go back to Holland to my trade. At the risk of my life I came here, and at the risk of my life I must go back.

Mrs. Stanmitz. Ah! Michael, Michael, if it had n't been for your turning deserter, you might have been a corporal by this time!

Sta. Look you, mother, I was made a soldier against my will, and the more I saw of a soldier's life the more I hated it. As a poor journeyman carpenter, I am at least free and independent; and if you will come with me to Holland, you shall take care of my wages and keep house for me.

Mrs. S. I should be a drag upon you, Michael. You will be wanting to get married, by and by; moreover, it will be hard for me to leave the old home at my time of life.

Sta. Some one is knocking at the door. Wait, mother, till I have concealed myself. [Enter Peter the Great, disguised.

Peter. What, ho! comrade! No skulking! Come out from Didn't I see you through the window, as

behind that screen!

passed?

Sta. Is it possible?

Peter! My old fellow-workman!

Give us your hand, my hearty! How came you to be here in
Moscow? There is no ship-building going on so far inland.
Pct. No; but there is at St. Petersburg, the new city that
the Czar is building up.

Sta They say the Czar is in Moscow just now.

Pet. Yes, he passed through your street this morning. Sta. So I heard. But I did n't see him. I say, Peter, how did you find me out?

Pet. Why, happening to see your mother's sign over the door, it occurred to me, after I returned to the palace

Sta. The palace?

Pet. Yes; I always call the place where I put up a palace. It is a way I have.

Sta. You always were a funny fellow, Peter!

Pet. As I was saying, it occurred to me that Mrs. Stanmitz might be the mother or aunt of my old messmate; and so I put on this disguise

Sta. Ha, ha! Sure enough, it is a disguise the disguise of a gentleman. Peter, where did you get such fine clothes? Pet. Don't interrupt me, sir!

Sta. Don't joke in that way again, Peter! Do you know you half frightened me by the stern tone in which you said "Don't interrupt me, sir!" But I see how it is, Peter, and I thank you. You thought you could learn something of your old friend, and so stopped to inquire, and saw me through the window.

Pet. Ah! Stanmitz, many 's the big log we have chopped at together through the long summer day in Von Block's ship-yard. Sta. That we have, Peter! Why not go back with me to Saardam?

Pet. I can get better wages at St. Petersburg.

Sta. If it weren't that I'm afraid of being overhauled for taking that long walk away from my post, I would go to St Petersburg with you.

Pet. How happened you to venture back here?

Sta. Why, you must know that this old mother of mine wanted to see me badly; and then I had left behind here a sweetheart. Don't laugh, Peter! She has waited all this while for me; and the misery of it is that I am too poor to take her along with me yet. But next year, if my luck continues, I mean to return and marry her.

Pet. What if I should inform against you? I could make a pretty little sum by exposing a deserter.

woman.

Sta. Don't joke on that subject! You'll frighten the old Peter, old boy, I'm so glad to see you. Halloo ! Soldiers at the door! What does this mean? An officer? Peter, excuse me, but I must leave you.

Pet. Stay! I give you my word it is not you they want They are friends of mine.

Sta. O! if that's the case, I'll stay. But do you know one of those fellows looks wonderfully like my old commanding officer? [Enter Officer.]

Officer. A dispatch from St. Petersburg, your majesty, claim ing your instant attention.

Mrs. S. Majesty!

Sta. Majesty! I say, Peter, what does he mean by majesty?

Officer. Knave! Know you not that this is the Czar?

Sta. What! Eh ? — This ?—Nonsense! This is my old friend Peter.

Officer. Down on your knees, rascal, to Peter the Great, Czar of Russia! EI

Mrs. S. O your majesty, your majesty, don't hang the poor boy He knew no better! He knew no better! He is my only son! Let him be whipped, but don't hang him!

Sta. Nonsense, mother! This is only one of Peter's jokes. Ha, ha, ha! You keep it up well, though. And those are dispatches you are reading, Peter!

Officer. Rascal! Dare you interrupt his majesty?

Sta. Twice you 've called me rascal.

Don't you think that's

being rather familiar? Peter, have you any objection to my pitching your friend out of the window?