And yet it is, I feel, Of this dull sickness at my heart, afraid; And this is death! But why Like a chained eaglet at its parent's call? Yet thus to pass away!— To live but for a hope that mocks at last,- Night's better beauty, feeling, fancy, thought, Grant me another year, God of my spirit!-but a day,-to win Vain,-vain!-my brain is turning With a swift dizziness, and my heart grows sick, Aye, were not man to die, He were too mighty for this narrow sphere! Had he but time to brood on knowledge here,— Could he but train his eye, Might he but wait the mystic word and hour,- Th' illimitable air no hidden wings,- And fire no power to change, Seasons no mystery, and stars no spell, Oh, but for time to track To tread unhurt the sea's dim-lighted halls,— And more, much more,- -for now The life-sealed fountains of my nature move,— Of weakness and mistrust, and bow it down This were indeed to feel The soul-thirst slaken at the living stream,— Dim,-dim,-I faint,-darkness comes o'er my eye,-- 'T was morning, and the old man lay alone. The storm was raging still. The shutter swung The fire beneath the crucible was out; Lay on th' alembic's rim, as if it still And thus had passed from its unequal frame Ex CCVIII-THE MAIN TRUCK, OR A LEAP FOR LIFE. OLD Ironsides at anchor lay A dead calm rested on the bay,— In sport, up shroud and rigging ran, A shudder shot through every vein,- No hold had he above, below; Alone he stood in air: To that far height none dared to go;— We gazed, but not a man could speak In groups, with pallid brow and cheek, As riveted unto the spot, Stood officers and crew. MORRIS. The father caine on deck :--he gasped, And aimed it at his son: "Jump, far out, boy, into the wave! "That only chance your life can save! He sunk,-he rose,-he lived, he moved,- His father drew, in silent joy, Those wet arms round his neck Then folded to his heart his boy, Ex. CCIX.-FUSS AT FIRES. ANON. IT having been announced to me, my young friends, that you were about forming a fire-company, I have called you together to give you such directions as long experience in a first quality engine company qualifies me to communicate. The moment you hear an alarm of fire, scream like a pair of panthers. Run any way, except the right way,-for the furthest way round is the nearest way to the fire. If you happen to run on the top of a wood-pile, so much the better; you can then get a good view of the neighborhood. If a light breaks on your view, "break" for it immediately;. but be sure you do n't jump into a bow window. Keep yelling, all the time; and, if you can't make night hideous enough yourself, kick all the dogs you come across, and set them yelling, too; 't will help amazingly. A brace of cats dragged up stairs by the tail would be a "powerful auxiliary." When you reach the scene of the fire, do all you can to convert it into a scene of destruction. Tear down all the fences in the vicinity. If it be a chimney on fire, throw salt down it; or, if you can't do that, perhaps the best plan would be to jerk off the pump-handle and pound it down. Don't forget to yell, all the while, as it will have a prodigious effect in fright ening off the fire. The louder the better, of course; and the more ladies in the vicinity, the greater necessity for "doing it brown." Should the roof begin to smoke, get to work in good earnest, and make any man "smoke" that interrupts you. If it is summer, and there are fruit-trees in the lot, cut them down, to prevent the fire from roasting the apples. Don't forget to yell! Should the stable be threatened, carry out the cow-chains. Never mind the horse,-he'll be alive and kicking; and if his legs don't do their duty, let them pay for the roast. Ditto as to the hogs;-let them save their own bacon, or smoke for it. When the roof begins to burn, get a crow-bar and pry away the stone steps; or, if the steps be of wood, procure an axe and chop them up. Next, cut away the wash-boards in the basement story; and, if that don't stop the flames, let the chair-boards on the first floor share a similar fate. Should the "devouring element" still pursue the " even tenor of its way," you had better ascend to the second story. Pitch out the pitchers, and tumble out the tumblers. Yell all the time! If you find a baby a-bed, fling it into the second story window of the house across the way; but let the kitten carefully down in a work-basket. Then draw out the bureau drawers, and empty their contents out of the back window; telling somebody below to upset the slop-barrel and rain-water hogs head at the same time. Of course, you will attend to the mirror. The further it can be thrown, the more pieces will be made. If any body objects, smash it over his head. Do not, under any circumstances, drop the tongs down from the second story: the fall might break its legs, and render the poor thing a cripple for life. Set it straddle of your shoulders, and carry it down carefully. Pile the bed-clothes carefully on the floor, and throw the crockery out of the window. By the time you will have attended to all these things, the fire will certainly be arrested, or the building be burnt down. In either case, your services will be no longer needed; and, of course, you require no further directions. Ex. CCX.-RESULTS OF THE HEROISM OF THE PILGRIMS EVERETT. METHINKS I see it now, that one solitary, adventurous essel, the May-flower of a forlorn hope, freighted with the |