With any of the ills of human life;

If thou art sick and weak, or mourn'st the loss
Of brethren gone to that far distant land

To which we all do pass, gentle and poor,
The gayest and the gravest, all alike;
Then turn into the peaceful woods and hear
The thrilling music of the forest-birds.

3. How rich the varied choir!' The unquiet finch
Calls from the distant hōllōws, and the wren
Uttereth her sweet and mellow plaint at times,
And the thrush mourneth where the kalmia' hangs
Its crimson-spotted cups, or chirps half-hid
Amid the lowly dogwood's snowy flowers;
And the blue jay flits by, from tree to tree,
And, spreading its rich pinions, fills the ear
With its shrill sounding and unsteady cry.

4. With the sweet airs of Spring the robin comes;
And in her simple song there seems to gush
A strain of sorrow when she visiteth

Her last year's wither'd nest. But when the gloom
Of the deep twilight falls, she takes her perch
Upon the red-stemm'd hazel's slender twig,
That overhangs the brook, and suits her song
To the slow rivulet's inconstant chime.

5. In the last days of Autumn, when the corn
Lies sweet and yellow in the harvest-field,
And the gay company of reapers bind

6.

The bearded wheat in sheaves, then peals abroad
The blackbird's merry chant. I love to hear,
Bold plunderer! thy mellow burst of song
Float from thy watch-place on the mossy tree,
Close at the corn-field edge.

Lone whip-poor-will,"
There is much sweetness in thy fitful hymn,

'Choir (kwir), a company of singers.- Kål' mi a, a kind of evergreen shrub, having beautiful white or pink flowers; sometimes incorrectly called laurel, and also ivy-bush.—3 Whip-poor-will, a bird like the night hawk.

Heard in the drowsy watches of the night.
Ofttimes, when all the village lights are out,
And the wide air is still, I hear thee chant
Thy hollow dirge,' like some recluse' who takes
His lodging in the wilderness of woods,

And lifts his anthem3 when the world is still :
And the dim, solemn night, that brings to man
And to the herds deep slumbers, and sweet dews
To the red roses and the herbs, doth find
No eye, save thine, a watcher in her halls.

I hear thee oft at midnight, when the thrush

And the green roving linnet are at rest,

And the blithe, twittering swallows have long ceased
Their noisy note, and folded up their wings.

7. Far up some brook's still course, whose current streams
The forest's blacken'd roots, and whose green marges
Is seldom visited by human foot,

The lonely heron sits, and harshly breaks
The Sabbath-silence of the wilderness;
And you may find her by some reedy pool,
Or brooding gloomily on the time-stain'd rock,
Beside some misty and far-reaching lake.

8. Most awful is thy deep and heavy boom,'
Gray watcher of the waters! Thou art king
Of the blue lake; and all the wingèd kind
Do fear the ccho of thine angry cry.

How bright thy savage eye! Thou lookèst down,
And seest the shining fishes as they glide;
And, poising thy gray wing, thy glossy beak
Swift as an arrōw strikes its roving prey.
Ofttimes I see thee, through the curling mist,
Dart, like a specter of the night, and hear

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4

Dirge, a mournful song.--- Re clùse', a person who lives in retirement, or apart from others.-An' them, a sacred song. Blithe, joyful; gay ; sprightly. Mårge, edge.- Hèr' on, a long legged and necked fowl that lives on fish. Boom, a peculiar noise made by the eagle.-" Pois ing, balancing - Spec' ter, a ghost; the appearance of a person who is dead

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Thy strange, bewildering call, like the wild scream
Of one whose life is perishing in the sea.

9. And now, wouldst thou, O man! delight the ear
With earth's delicious sounds, or charm the eye
With beautiful creations? Then pass fōrth,
And find them midst those many-colored birds
That fill the glowing woods. The richest hues
Lie in their splendid plūmage, and their tones
Are sweeter than the music of the lute,'
Or the harp's melody, or the notes that gush
So thrillingly from Beauty's ruby lip.

ISAAC MCLELLan, Jr.

W

5. DANIEL WEBSTER AT SCHOOL.

THEN Webster first entered Phillips Academy, at Exeter, he was made, in consequence of his unpolished, country-like appearance, and because he was placed at the foot of the class, the butt of ridicule by some of the scholars. This treatment touched his keen sensibility, and he spoke of it with regret to his friends where he boarded. They informed him that the place assigned him in the class was according to the standing regulations of the school, and that by diligence he might rise above it. They also advised him to take no notice of the laugh ter of the city boys, for after awhile they would become weary of it, and would cease.

2. The assistant tutor, Mr. Emery, was informed of the treatment which Webster received. He, therefore, treated him with special consideration, told him to care for nothing but his books, and predicted that all would end well. This kindness had the desired effect. Webster applied himself with increased diligence, and with signal success. He soon met with his reward, which made those who had laughed at him hang their heads with shame.

'Lute, a musical instrument with strings.- Un pol' ished, rude; not refined in manners - Bått, the object at which a thing is directed.-'Rld' i cule, wit that exposes the object of it to laughter and contempt. -Sen si bil' i ty, quickness of feeling. Pre dict' ed, foretold.

3. At the end of the first quarter, the assistant tutor called up the class in their usual order. He then walked to the foot of the class, took Webster by the arm, and marched him, in front of the class, to the head, where, as he placed him, he said, "There, sir, that is your proper place." This practical rebuke' made those who had delighted to ridicule the country boy feel mortified and chagrined. He had outstripped them.

4. This incident greatly stimulated3 the successful student He applied himself with his accustomed in'dustry, and looked forward with some degree of solicitude1 to the end of the second term, to see whether he would be able to retain his relative rank in the class. Weeks slowly passed away; the end of the term arrived, and the class was again summoned to be newly arranged, according to their scholarship and deportment, as evinced during the preceding term! While they were all standing in silence and suspense, Mr. Emery, their teacher, said, fixing his eye at the same time upon the country boy: "Daniel Webster, gather up your books and take down your cap." Not understanding the design of such an order, Daniel complied with troubled feelings. He knew not but he was about to be expelled from school for his dullness.

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5. His teacher perceived the expression of sadness upon his countenance, but soon dispelled it by saying: "Now, sir, you will please pass into another room, and join a higher class; and you, young gentlemen," addressing the other scholars, “will take an affectionate leave of your classmate, for you will never see him again!" As if he had said. "This rustic lad, whom you have made the butt of ridicule, has already so far outstripped you in his studies, that, from your stand-point, he is dwarfed in the distance, and will soon be out of sight entirely. He has devel oped" a capacity for study which will prevent you from ever overtaking him. As a classmate, you will never see him again."

'Re buke', reproof for faults; check or restraint.- Chagrined (sha grined'), put to shame; vexed.-'Stim' u låt ed, excited, or roused to action.- So lic' i tude, anxious care. Rel' a tive, considered by comparing with others. E vinced', shown; proved.-" Pre cèd' ing, going before; previous.- Sus pense', state of uncertainty; doubt. Dispelled', drove away.-"Dwarfed, made small." De vel' oped, showu unfolded..

6. It would be interesting to know who those city boys were who made the young rustic an object of sport. What have they come to? What have they accomplished? Who has heard of the fame of their attainments? Scholars should be

careful how they laugh at a classmate because of his unpolished manners or coarse raiment. Under that rough exterior1 may be concealed talents that will move a nation and dazzle a world, when they in their turn might justly be made a laughing-stock on account of their inefficiency."

BANVARD.

THE

6. WISH FOR NO MAN'S MONEY.

HE health, and strength, and freshness, and sweet sleep of youth, are yours. Young Love, by day and night, encircles you. Hearts unsoiled by the deep sin of covetousness3 beat fondly with your own. None-ghoul-like-listen for the deathtick in your chamber. Your shoes have value in men's eyes, only when you tread in them. The smiles no wealth can purchase greet you, living; and tears that rarely drop on rosewood coffins, will fall from pitying eyes upon you, dying.

2. Be wise in being content with competency. You have, to eat, to drink, to wear, enough? then have you all the rich man hath. What though he fares more sumptuously? He shortens life increases pains and aches-impairs his health thereby. What if his raiments be more costly? God loves him none the more, and man's respect in such regard comes ever mingled with his envy.

3. Nature is yours in all her glory: her ever-varying and forever beautiful face smiles peace upon you. Her hills and valleys, fields and flowers, and rocks, and streams, and holy places, know no desecration' in the step of poverty; but welcome ever to their wealth of beauty-rich and poor alike.

Ex te ri or, outside.- In ef fi' cien cy, inability; want of power to produce the effect.-3 Covetousness (kův' et yus nes), an excessive desire for gain. Ghoul-like, a ghoul was an imaginary evil being, among the Eastern nations, that was supposed to feed upon the dead.-' Com'pe ten cy, sufficiency for some end or duty.- Sůmpt' u ous ly, at great cost.- Des e cra' tion, turning from its sacred character; misusing.