every thing. It is diverting enough to see a Philadel phian at New York; he walks the streets with as much painful caution as if his toes were covered with corns, 'or his feet lamed with the gout; while a New Yorker, as 5 little approving the plain masonry of Philadelphia, shuffles along the pavement, like a parrot on a mahogany table. It must be acknowledged, that the ablutions I have mentioned, are attended with no small inconvenience; but 10 the women would not be induced, on any consideration, to resign their privilege. Notwithstanding this, I can give you the strongest assurances that the women of America make the most faithful wives, and the most attentive mothers, in the world; and I am sure you will join 15 me in opinion, that, if a married man is made miserable only one week in a whole year, he will have no great cause to complain of the matrimonial bond. 5 LESSON LXXVIII.-THE FORCE OF CURIOSITY.-CHARLES How swells my theme! how vain my power I find, Of him, the victim in the Iron Mask; The crusted medal rub with painful care, To spell the legend out,-that is not there; With dubious gaze o'er mossgrown tombstones bend All must be known, and all obscure made plain; 15 If 't was a pippin tempted Eve to sin, If glorious Byron drugged his muse with gin; We turn to look, then linger to befriend; The maid of Egypt thus was led to save 5 How many a noble art, now widely known, Six times the little climber strove and failed; 25 So with each newborn nothing rolls the day, 30 Day unto day repeats it till we die. For this the cit, the critic, and the fop, 35 For this we leave the parson in the lurch, 40 For this the dinner cools, the bed remains unpressed. LESSON LXXIX.-THE WINDS.-W. C. BRYANT. Ye winds, ye unseen currents of the air, Softly ye played a few brief hours ago; Ye bore the murmuring bee; ye tossed the hair 'er maiden cheeks, that took a fresher glow; 5 Ye rolled the round white cloud through depths of blue; Ye shook from shaded flowers the lingering dew; Before you the catalpa's blossoms flew, 10 Light blossoms, dropping on the grass like snow. How are ye changed! Ye take the cataract's sound; Ye take the whirlpool's fury and its might; The mountain shudders as ye sweep the ground; The valley woods lie prone beneath your flight. The clouds before you shoot like eagles past; The homes of men are rocking in your blast; 15 Ye lift the roofs like autumn leaves, and cast, Skyward, the whirling fragments out of sight. 20 The weary fowls of heaven make wing in vain, The harvest field becomes a river's bed; 25 Ye dart upon the deep; and straight is heard Flings o'er his shivering plumes the fountain's spray. 30 Ye scoop the ocean to its briny springs, And take the mountain billow on your wings, Why rage ye thus ?-no strife for liberty Has made you mad; no tyrant, strong through fear, 35 Has chained your pinions till ye wrenched them free, And rushed into the unmeasured atmosphere: 40 For ye were born in freedom where ye blow; Earth's solemn woods were yours, her wastes of snow, ye wild winds! a mightier Power than yours In chains upon the shore of Europe lies; The sceptred throng, whose fetters he endures, Watch his mute throws with terror in their eyes; 5 And armed warriors all around him stand, And, as he struggles, tighten every band, And lift the heavy spear, with threatening hand, To pierce the victim, should he strive to rise. Yet oh! when that wronged Spirit of our race, Shall break, as soon he must, his long-worn chains And leap in freedom from his prison-place, 10 15 20 Lord of his ancient hills and fruitful plains, Unconscious breast with blood from human veins. But may he like the Spring-time come abroad, Come spouting up the unsealed springs to light; LESSON LXXX.-DAYBREAK.-RICHARD H. DANA, sen. "The Pilgrim they laid in a large upper chamber, whose window opened towards the sun rising: the name of the chamber was Peace; where he slept till break of day, and then he awoke and ·."— The Pilgrim's Progress. sang." Now, brighter than the host that all night long, In fiery armor, up the heavens high Stood watch, thou comest to wait the morning's song, 5 Star of the dawning, cheerful is thine eye; 10 And sigh, when little birds begin discourse In quick, low voices, ere the streaming light Pours on their nests, as sprung from day's fresh source! With creatures innocent thou must perforce A sharer be, if that thine heart be pure. 5 And holy hour like this, save sharp remorse, Of ills and pains of life must be the cure, And breathe in kindred calm, and teach thee to endure.” I feel its calm. But there's a sombrous hue Along that eastern cloud of deep, dull red; 10 Nor glitters yet the cold and heavy dew; And all the woods and hilltops stand outspread With dusky lights, which warmth nor comfort shed. Still,-s -save the bird that scarcely lifts its song,The vast world seems the tomb of all the dead,15 The silent city emptied of its throng, And ended, all alike, grief, mirth, love, hate, and wrong. But wrong, and hate, and love, and grief, and mirth, Nor binds his heart with soft and kindly ties: 25 He feverish, blinded, lives, and, feverish, sated, dies. And 't is because man useth so amiss Her dearest blessings, Nature seemeth sad; 30 From her fair face? It is that man is mad! Then chide me not, clear star, that I repine When Nature grieves: nor deem this heart is bad. Thou look'st towards earth; but yet the heavens are thine, mine? 35 If man would but his finer nature learn, And not in life fantastic lose the sense Of simpler things; could Nature's features stern |