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Mcguffeyseclecti 05 Mcgu

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understandandwin
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© © All Rights Reserved
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Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2015

https://archive.org/details/mcguffeyseclecti05mcgu
ECLECTIC EDUCATIONAL SERIES.

MCGUFFEY^S

new

FIFTH ECLECTIC READER

SELECTED AND ©RIGINAL

EXERCISES E©R SCH#©LS.

By WM. H. M c GUFFEY, LL.D.

ELECTROTYPE EDITION.

WILS#N, HINKLE & C@.,


CIXCIX ATI:.NT

Walnut
NEW Y#EKi
137 St. 28 Bpnd St.
PUBLISHERS’ NOTICE

The widely-extended approval and patronage bestowed upon the


them
Eclectic Educational Series for several years past, have given to
a constantly increasing demand. Their sale is not equaled by any
other similar School-Books in the United States.
Such approval renders it the duty and privilege of the Publishers
and increase their usefulness, by such improvements as are
to sustain
demanded by judicious educational progress. With this view,

Me GrUE FEY’S ECLECTIC READERS


Have been entirely remodeled. Such lessons as discriminating prac-
tical teachers had found the least interesting, have been removed,
and others, with large additions — especially of primary matter have —
been introduced into the Series.
A by which the learner is led for-
careful attention to progression,
ward, step by by an easy gradation; a pure moral and religious
step,
sentiment, inculcated in interesting and instructive lessons; a neat
typography and handsome style of publication, render them the best
class-books for reading in the English language, and, at their very
low prices, the cheapest.

To secure accuracy in those who order books, these volumes,


six in number, are entitled

McGuffey’s New Eclectic Readers,


That they may not be confounded with the former editions, which
are still continued in publication.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by W. B. SMITH, in the


Clerk’s Office of the District-Court of the United States, for the Southern District
of Ohio.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1866, by


SARGENT, WILSON & HINKLE,
In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern
District of Ohio,

ELECTROTYPE!) AT THE FRANKLIN TYPE FOUNDRY, CINCINNATI.


PREFACE.

This, the fifth in the series of the remodeled Eclectic Readers,

differs from the preceding volumes, chiefly, in its grade. The lessons
are more difficult, the lists of errors in articulation and pronun-
ciation are more extensive, and the questions, more copious and
varied.

A considerable amount of new matter, derived from the best


sources of English literature, has been added.

The introductory article on Reading is commended to the notice

of the teacher, as containing important instruction upon that subject,

with copious illustrations and exercises. Miscellaneous exercises in


articulation are also interspersed between the lessons.

‘The Spelling and Defining Exercises, placed at the head of the


lessons, are copious, and at the same time, select. In addition to
these, words are also marked in the lessons to be spelled and defined
by the pupil.

The grammatical questions are particularly commended to the

attention of the teacher, as a valuable feature. Few are aware, until


a trial, how closely reading and grammatical analysis may be profitably

united.

The Reading Lessons have been very carefully selected. It has


been the great object of the compiler to present the best specimens
of style, to insure interest in the subjects, to impart valuable in-
formation, and, especially, to exert a decided and healthy moral and
religious influence.

As very little material is found in a form appropriate to practice

as reading lessons, the matter has here been extensively remodeled


and rearranged, so as to adapt it to its place in this volume. On
this account, the lessons are credited in the contents as being “from"
the guthors named.
CONTENTS

Directions for Reading, 9 to 36

LESSONS IN PROSE.
LESSON. PAGE.
1. The Forest-trees. —A Fable. .... ....... 37
3. The Poor Widow ....... 40
6. The Orphan. 46
7. Little Victories From Marlineau. . 53
9. An End of All Perfection From Sigourney. . 59
11. Do Not Meddle. . 65
12. The Chicken-cock and the Fox. . . . ....... 70
14. The Righteous Never Forsaken. . . . 72
15. Select Paragraphs 75
17. The Generous Russian Peasant. . . . 80
18. — —
Touch Not Taste Not Handle Not. . From Dr. Beecher. 83
~“***20. Man and the Inferior Animals. . . . ....... -88

21. Value of Time and Knowledge. . . . ....... 91


23. Scene at the Sandwich Islands. . . . ....... 96
24. The Maniac ....... 101
26. Respect for the Sabbath Rewarded. ....... 105
27. The Goodness of God The Bible. . . .108
29. Contrasted Soliloquies. ...... From Jane Taylor. 112
31. The Just Judge. ........ 118
32. Control Your Temper. ...... From Todd. . . 123
34. Death of Absalom. The Bible. . . .127
36. A Morning Ramble. ....... From Paulding. . 134
38. The Alhambra by Moonlight. . . . . From Irving. . .141
40. On Elocution and Reading.
‘^~a=a
. . . . ....... 145
41. No Excellence without Labor. . . . From Wirt. .148
.

42. Necessity of Education From Dr. Beecher. 150


44. The Intemperate Husband From Sigourney. 155 .

45. The Intemperate Husband — Continued, . 158


47. ni-Nature Rewarded . 162
49. The Wife * From Irving. . . 169
6L Decisive Integrity . From Wirt. . .174
(
6 )
CONTENTS. 1
LESSON. PAGE.
53. The Steam-boat Trial From Abbot. . . 178
55. Lucy Forrester 184
57. The Venomous Worm 192
58. The Town Pump. From Hawthorne. 194
60. Effects of Gambling From Flint. 204 . .

62. Criminality of Dueling From Nott. . .211 .

63. Tit for Tat From Edgeworth. 214 .

64. Conflagration of an Amphitheater. . . From Croly. .217 .

66. Charles II and William Penn 225


67. Horrors of War From R. Hall. . . 228
69. Love of Applause. From Hawes. . . 234
71. A Picture of Human Life From Johnson. . 240
73. Puritan Fathers 249
74. American Orator 253
77. Europe and America . From Webster. . 271
80. The Scriptures and the Savior. . . . From Rousseau. . 280
81. The Blind Preacher From Wirt. . . 283
83. The Bible. ..^ . From Grimke. . . 288
87. Rebellion in State-Prison 300
88. Religion, the- Only Basis of Society 306
90. The Bobolink From Irving. . .310
***92. The Wild Horse From Irving. . . 315
94. Matilda From Goldsmith. . 322
95. Speech of Logan From Jefferson. . 324
96. The Good Reader 326
97. Martyn and Byron From Miss Beecher. 329
100. Behind Time 336

LESSONS IN POETRY.
LESSON. PAGE.
2. The Oak-Tree. . From HowetL . . 38
4. Tired of Play 45
6. The Grandfather . 51
8. My Mother . 58
10. The Spider and the Fly From Howett. . . 63
13. The Barber 71
16. The Dying Boy From Sigourney. . 78
19. The Festal Board . . 86
22. Consolation of Religion From Percival. . 95
25. He never smiled again From Hemans. . . 103
28- Nature and Revelation The Bible. . . 110
30. The Pebble and the Acorn From Miss Gould. 116
. .

CONTENTS.
WESSON. PAGE.
33. The Child’s Inquiry. . . 126
35. Absalom From Willis. . .131
37. April Day 139
39. The Death of the Flowers. From Bryant. . .143
43. True Wisdom The Bible. . . .153
46. The Better Land. . . . From Hemans. . .161
48. It Snows From Mrs. Hale. 167 .

50. Ginevra From Rogers. .171


.

52. Procrastination From Young: .176


.

54. A Dirge From Croly. .182


.

56. A Hebrew Tale From Sigourney. 189 .

59. Sliylock From Shakspeare. 198 .

61. The Miser. . . . . . From Pollok. 209


. .

65. Prince Arthur. ... . From Shakspeare. 220


68.. Battle of Waterloo. . . . From Byron. 231
. .

70. Midnight Musings. . . . From Young. 237


. .
84.
72. God’s First Temples. . . From Bryant. 244
. .

75. William Tell From Knowles. 257 .

76. William Tell — Continued. From Knowles. 266 .

78. Make. Way for Liberty. . From Montgomery. 275


79. The American Eagle. . . From Neal. ..278
.

82. The Gods of the Heathen. The Bible. . . . 286


Maud Muller From Whittier. . 290
84. Bock me to Sleep. . . . ....... 293
85. Lochiel’s Warning. . . . From Campbell. . 295
86. Apostrophe to the Ocean. From Byron. . . 298
89. The Three Sons 308
91. Winged Worshipers. . . From Sprague. . .314
93. Soldier of the- Bhine. . . From Mrs. Norton. 320
98. Byron From Pollok. . . 332
99. Immortality of the Soul. . From Addison. . . 334
101. Death and Life 338

DIRECTIONS FOR READING.

I. PRELIMINARY REMARKS.
The great object to be accomplished in reading as a
rhetorical exercise is, to convey to the hearer, fully and

clearly, the ideas and feelings of the writer.


In order to do this, it is necessary that the feelings of the
author whose language is read, should be infused into the
breast of the reader, and then alone can they be properly and
fully expressed.
In accordance with this view, a preliminary rule of impor-
tance is the following:

Rule I.— Before attempting to read a lesson, the


learner should make himself fully acquainted with- the
subject as treated of in that lesson, and endeavor to
make the feelings and sentiments of the writer his
own.
Remark. —To accomplish the purpose indicated in the rule,
every lesson should be well studied beforehand, and no scholar
should be permitted to attempt to read any thing, which he can
not easily understand. When he lias thus identified himself
with the author, he has the substance of all rules in his own
breast. It is by going to nature that we find rules. The child
or the savage orator, never mistakes in inflection, or emphasis,
or modulation. The best speakers and readers are those who
follow the impulse of nature as own hearts, or most
felt in their

closely imitate it as observed in others.

Exercises .
What is the chief design of reading ? In order to
do this, what is first necessary? Repeat the rule. For the purpose
of being able to observe this, what must be done? From whence are
all rules derived ?

(
9 )
——
10 ARTICULATION.

II. ARTICULATION.
The subject first in order and in importance requiring atten-
tion, is articulation. Thex>bject to be accomplished, under this
head, may be expressed by the following general

Direction. Give to each letter (except silent letters),


to each syllable, and to each word its full, distinct, and
appropriate utterance.
For the purpose of avoiding the more common errors under
this head, observe the following rules.

Rule II. —Avoid the omission of unaccented vowels.

EXAMPLES.
INCORRECT. CORRECT. ?
;
INCORRECT. CORRECT.
Sep’rate for sep-a-rate. ;
J
Ev’dent for ev-f-dent.
met-ric’l “ met-ric-al. <
!
mem’ry mem-o-ry.
’pear “ ap-pear. ’pin-ion U o-pin-ion.
<
;

com-p’tent “ com-pe-tent. 5 pr’pose u pro-pose.


pr’cede “ pre-cede. gran’lar “ gran-u-lar.
;

’spe-cial “ es-pe-cial. par-tic-lar “ par-tic-u-lar.


5

Rule III. — Avoid sounding incorrectly the unaccented


pwels.
EXAMPLES.
INCORRECT. CORRECT. ;
! INCORRECT. CORRECT.
Sep-er-ate for sep-a-rate. <
;
Mem-er-ry for mem-o-ry.
met-ric-ul “ met-ric-al. > up-pin-ion U o-pin-ion.
\

up-pear “ ap-pear. ! prup-ose % pro-pose.


com-per-tent tl
com-pe-tent. ! gran-ny-lar u gran-u-lar.
;

dum-mand “ de-mand. par-tic-e-lar u par-tic-u-lar.


!
;

ob-stwr-nate “ ob-sti-nate. ev-er-dent u ev-i-dent.


!
;

Remark. — In correcting errors of this kind in words of more


than one syllable, it is very important to avoid a fault which
is the natural consequence of an effort to articulate correctly.
Thus, in endeavoring to sound correctly the a in met'-ric-al the ,

/
pupil is very apt to say viet-ric-al ,
accenting the last syllable

Exercises What subject is first in importance to the reader?


.

Repeat the general direction. Repeat Rule II. Give some examples
in which the vowel is left out. Repeat Rule III. Give some examples
in which the unaccented vowel is improperly sounded.
ARTICULATION. 11

instead of the first. In correcting the sound of the first o in pro-


pose', he will perhaps pronounce it pro'pose. This change of
the accent, and all undue stress upon the unaccented syllable,
should be carefully avoided.

Bule IY. — Utter distinctly the terminating conso-


nant.
EXAMPLES.
INCORRECT. CORRECT. ;
! INCORRECT. CORRECT.
An’ for and. !
;
Mos’ for mosque.
ban’ “ band. near-es’ U near-es f.
;

moun’ “ mound. <


wep’ a wept.
!

mor-nin’ a morn-iny. ob-jec’ u ob-jec#.


?
;

dess’ “ des&. < ’<

sub-jec’ u sub-jec#.

Remark 1. —This omission is still more likely to occur when


several consonants come together.

EXAMPLES.
INCORRECT. CORRECT. INCORRECT. CORRECT.
Thrus’ for thrush, Harms’ for harm’s#,
beace “ beas#s. wrongs’ “ wrong’s#,
thinks’ “ thinks#, twinkles’ “ twinld’ds#.
weps’ “ wep#s#. black’ns “ black’n’ds#.

Remark 2. — In all cases of this kind, these sounds are omitted,


in the first instance, merely because they are difficult, and require
care and attention for their utterance, although, after a while it

becomes a habit. The only remedy is to devote that care and


attention which may be necessary. There is no other difficulty,
unless there should be a defect in the organs of speech, which
does not often happen.

Bule Y. —Avoid blending syllables which belong to


different words.
EXAMPLES.
INCORRECT. CORRECT.
He ga-zdupon. He gazed upon.
Here res #sis sed. Here rests Ais Aead.

Exercises —In correcting these errors, what fault is it neces-


sary to guard against? What is Rule IY ? Give examples. When
is the omission still more likely to take place? Give examples.
What is the cause of this defect? What is the remedy? Is there
often any defect in the organs of speech? What is Rule V? Illus-
trate it by an example.

12 ARTICULATION.
INCORRECT. CORRECT.
Whatiis sis sname? Wha£ is Ms name?
For ranninsiantush. For an instant Aush.
Ther ris sa calm. There is a calm.
For tho stha twee p. For those that weep.
God sglorou simage. God’s glorious image.

EXERCISES IN ARTICULATION.
This exercise and similar ones will afford valuable
aid in training the organs to a distinct articulation.

Every vice fights against nature.


Folly is never pleased with itself.

Pride, not nature, craves much.


The 1 ittle tattler tittered at the tempest.
Titus takes the pe?uAant outcasts.
The covetous partner is destitute of fortune.
No one of you knows where the shoe pinches.
What can not be cured musi be endured.
You can not catch old birds with cAaff.
Never sport with the opinions of others.
The lightnings flashed, the iAundfers roared.
Pis hand in mine was fondly clasped.
They cuftivated shrubs and plants.
He selected his teads with great care.
His lips grow restless, and his smile is curbed Aalf into scorn.
Wisdom’s ways are ways of pleasantness.
0! breeze that wafts£ me on my way.
PAou boas^’s^ of wAat sAould be thy sAame.
Li/e’s fh/ul fever over, he rests well.
Cans^ thou fill his sAin with barAed irons?
Prom star to star the living lighteinps flash.
And glittering crowns of prostrate serapAim.
PAat morning thou that slumberd'st not
,
before.
Habitual evits change not on a sudden.
Thou waft’d’st the ricActy skiffs over the cliffs.
Thou reef’d ’st the haggled shipwrecked saits.
The honest sAepherd’s catarrh.
The heiress in her disAabiAAe is Aumorous.
The Arave cAevalier behaves like a conservative.
The luscious notion of cAampagne and precious supar.

Exercise. What kind of exercises are adapted for improve-


ment in articulation?

INFLECTIONS. 13

Remark 1. —Very full exercises and directions for practice


in articulation, may be found in the New Eclectic Third and
Fourth Readers of this series, to which it is supposed the reader
has already paid some attention. In every reading lesson, this
subject should receive its appropriate attention. Between the
lessons in this book, also, are examples, constituting a series of
exercises upon difficult combinations and upon vowel sounds,
which, it is believed, will be found of great utility, and to which
the learner is directed for practice.

Remark 2. — The teacher will recollect that, in correcting a


fault, there is always danger of erring in the opposite extreme.
Now, properly speaking, there isno danger of learning to articu-
late too distinctly ,
but there is danger of contracting a habit of
drawling and of pronouncing unimportant words with too
,
much
prominence. This should be carefully guarded against. It is a
childish fault, but is not always confined to children.

III. INFLECTIONS.
Inflections are slides of the voice upward or down-
ward. Of these there are two the rising inflection and :

falling inflection.
The rising inflection is that in which the voice
slides upward, and is marked thus ( >); as,

Did you walk'? (Did you

The falling inflection is that in which the voice


slides downward and is marked thus v as,
, ( ) ;

I did not walk'. (I did not ip .

Both inflections are exhibited in the following question:

Did you walk' or ride' ? or


^
Exercises. What error must be guarded against? What are
inflections? How does the voice slide in the rising inflection? How,
in the falling?

14 INFLECTIONS.
In the following examples, the first member has the rising and
,

the second member the falling inflection.

EXAMPLES.*
Is he sick' or is he well'?
Is he young', or is he old'?
Is he rich', or is he poor' ?
Did you say valor7 or value'? ,

Did you say statute', or statue' ?


Did he act properly', or improperly'?

In the following examples, the inflections are used in a con-


trary order, the first member terminating with the falling, and the
second with the rising inflection.

EXAMPLES.
He is well', not sick'.
He is young', not old'.
He is rich', not poor'.
7
I said value', not valor .

7
I said statue', not statute .

He acted properly', not improperly 7 .

FALLING INFLECTIONS.
Rule YI. — The falling inflection is generally proper,
wherever the sense is complete.

EXAMPLES.
Truth is more wonderful than fiction'.

Men generally die as they live'.

By industry we obtain wealth'.

Exercises. Explain the different inflections in the questions,


commencing with, “Is he sick 7 or is he well'?”
,
Explain them in the
answers to those questions. What is the first rule for the use of the
falling inflection? Give the examples.

* These questions and similar ones, with their answers, should be


repeatedly pronounced with their proper inflections, until the distinc-
tion between the rising and falling inflection is well understood and
easily made by the learner. He will be assisted in this, by empha-
sizing strongly the word which receives the inflection: thus, Did you
ride' or did you walk'?
'

INFLECTIONS. 15
Remark. —Parts of a sentence often make complete sense in
themselves, and in this case, unless qualified or restrained by the
succeeding clause, or unless the contrary is indicated by some
other principle, the falling inflection takes place, according to
the rule.
EXAMPLES.
Truth is wonderful', even more so than fiction'.

Men generally die as they live', and by their actions we must


judge of their character'.
By industry we obtain wealth', and persevering exertion will
seldom be unrewarded'.

Exception . —When a sentence concludes with a negative clause,


or with a contrast or comparison, (called also antithesis,) the first

member of which requires the falling inflection, it must close with


the rising inflection. (See Rule XI, and §2, Note.)

EXAMPLES.
No one desires to be thought a fool'.
I come to bury' Caesar, not to praise' him.
If we care not for others', we ought at least to respect ourselves'.
He lives in England', not in France'.

Remark. —In bearing testimony to the general character of a


man we say,

He is too honorable' to be guilty of a vile' act.

But if he is accused of some act of baseness, a contrast is at


once instituted between his character and the specified act, and
we change the inflections, and say,

He is too honorable to be guilty of such' an act.

A man may say, in general terms,

I am too busy' for projects'.

But if he is urged to embark in some particular enterprise, he


will change the inflections, and say,

I am too busys for projects'.

Exercises . —Where, besides at the close of a sentence, may the


sense be complete? What inflection must be used in this case? Give
an example. What is antithesis? What is the substance of the
remark? Explain the examples.

16 INFLECTIONS.
In such cases, as the falling inflection is required in the former

part, by the principle of contrast and emphasis, (as will hereafter


be more fully explained,) the sentence necessarily closes with the
rising inflection.
Sometimes also, emphasis alone seems to require the rising
inflection on the concluding word. See exception to Rule VII.

STRONG EMPHASIS.
Rule VII. —Language which demands strong emphasis
generally requires the falling inflection.

EXAMPLES.
§1. Command or urgent entreaty; as,

Begone',
Run' your houses, fall' upon your knees,
to
Pray' Gods to intermit the plagues.
to the

Answer' me, to what I ask you.


O, save' me, Hubert.', save' me ! My eyes are out
Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men.

§2. Exclamation, especially when indicating strong


emotion; as,
0, ye Gods'! ye Gods'! must I endure all this?

Hark'! Hark'! the horrid sound


Hath raised up his head.
A present deity'! they shout around,
A present deity'! the vaulted roofs rebound.

For interrogatory exclamation, see Rule X, Remark.

SERIES OF WORDS OR MEMBERS.


§3. A series of words ov members, whether in the begin-
ning or middle of a sentence, if does not conclude the
it

sentence, is called a commencing series, and requires the

falling inflection at each word or member except the last,


which must have the rising inflection.

Exercises. Repeat Rule VII. What is the first particular


under this rule? Give an example. What is the second particular?
Give an example. What is the third head under this rule ? What is
a commencing series?
——
INFLECTIONS. 17

EXAMPLES OF COMMENCING SERIES.


Wine', beauty', music', pomp', are poor expedients to heave
off the load of an hour from the heir of eternity'.
Absalom’s beauty', Jonathan’s love', David’s valor', Solomon’s
wisdom', the patience of Job', the prudence of Augustus', the
eloquence of Cicero', and the intelligence of all', though faintly
amiable in the creature, are found in immense perfection in the
Creator'.
I conjure you by that which you profess,
(Howe’er you came to know it,) answer me;
Though you untie the winds and let them fight
Against the churches'; though the yeasty waves
Confound and swallow navigation' up;
Though bladed corn be lodged, and trees blown down';
Though castles topple on their warders’ heads';
Though palaces and pyramids do slope
Their heads to their foundations'; though the treasures
Of nature’s germ an s tumble altogether',
Even till destruction sicken'; answer me
To what I ask' you.

§4. A words or members which concludes a


series of
sentence, is and must have the
called a concluding series ,

falling inflection at each member, except the last but


one, which must have the rising inflection.

EXAMPLES OF CONCLUDING SERIES.


They passed o’er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp;
Rocks', caves', lakes', fens', bogs', dens', and shades of death'.
They, through faith, subdued kingdoms', wrought righteous-
ness', obtained promises', stopped the mouths of lions', quenched
the violence of fire', escaped the edge of the sword', out of weak-
ness were made strong', waxed valiant in fight', turned to flight
the armies of aliens'.

Remark. When the emphasis on these words or mem-


bers is not marked, they take the rising inflection, according
to Rule IX.
EXAMPLES.
They are the offspring of restlessness', vanity', and idleness'.
Love', hope', and joy' took possession of his breast.

Exercises. What is a concluding series? Give examples.


Repeat the remark, and Give examples.
18 INFLECTIONS.
§5. When words, which naturally take the rising in-
flection, become emphatic by repetition or any other
cause, they often take the falling inflection.

Exception to the Rule . —While the tendency of emphasis is

decidedly to the use of the falling sometimes a word


inflection,

.
towhich the falling inflection naturally belongs, changes this,
when it is emphatic, for the rising inflection.

EXAMPLES.
Three thousand ducats': ’t is a good round sum,'.

It is useless to point out the beauties of nature to one who is blind'.

Here sum and blind, according to Rule VI, would take the
falling inflection, but as they are emphatic, and the object of
emphasis is to draw attention to the word emphasized, this is
here accomplished in part by giving an unusual inflection. Some
speakers would give these words the circumflex, but it would be
the rising circumflex, so that the sound would still terminate
with the rising inflection.

Rule VIII. — Questions which can not be answered by


yes or no, together with their answers, generally require
the falling inflection.
EXAMPLES.
Where has he gone'? Ans. To New York'.
What has he done'? Ans. Nothing'.
Who did this'? Ans. I know not'.
When did he go'? Ans. Yesterday'.

Remark. —If these questions are repeated, the inflection is

changed, according to’ the principle stated under the Exception


to Rule VII.
Where did you say he had gone'?
What has he done'?
When did he go>'?
Who did it'?

RISING INFLECTION.
Rule IX. —Where a pause is rendered proper by the

Exercises .—What is the fifth head under this rule ? Repeat


the exception. Give the examples. What is supposed to be the
reason of the exception ? Repeat Rule VIII. If these questions are
repeated, what inflection is used? Repeat Rule IX.
O

INFLECTIONS. 19

meaning, and the sense is incomplete, the rising inflec-


tion is generally required.

EXAMPLES.
To endure slander and abuse with meekness' requires no ordinary
degree of self-command'.
Night coming on', both armies retired from the field of battle\

As a dog returneth to his vomit', so a fool returneth to his folly\

Remark. —The person or object addressed, comes under this


head.
EXAMPLES.
Fathers'! we once again are met in council.
My lords'! and gentlemen'! we have arrived at an awful crisis.

Age'! thou art shamed.


Rome'! thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!

Exception. —Where a woi*d, which, according to this rule, re-

quires the rising inflection, becomes emphatic, it generally must


have the falling inflection, according to Rule VII.

EXAMPLES.
When we aim at a high standard, if we do not attain ' it, we shall
secure a high degree of excellence.

Those who mingle with the vicious, if they do not become depravecP,
will lose all delicacy of feeling.

So also,when a child addresses his father, he first says, Father'!


but if he repeats it emphatically, he changes the inflection, and
says, Father'd Father'!

Remark. —The principle of this rule will be found to apply


especially to the last pause before the close of a sentence, as that
is generally the most interesting point of suspension. See ex-
amples under Rule VII, §3. Harmony of sound, also, seems to
require the rising inflection at this place, even when other reasons
would indicate the contrary.

Rule X. — Questions which may be answered by yes


or no, generally require the rising and their answers the ,

falling inflection .

Exercises. — f what rule is this the converse or opposite?


Give some .of the examples under this rule. What inflection has the
person addressed? Give examples. Give the exception to Rule IX,
and examples. To what does the principle of this rule especially
apply? Repeat the exception. Repeat Rule X.
5th R. 2.
20 INFLECTIONS.

EXAMPLES.
Has he arrived'? Yes\
Will he return'? No\
Does the law condemn him'? It does not'.

Exception . — If these questions are repeated emphatically, they


take the falling inflection, according to Rule VII.

EXAMPLES.
Has he arrived'?
Will he return'?
Does the law condemn him'?

Remark.. —When a word or sentence is repeated as a kind of


interrogatory exclamation, the rising inflection is used, according
to the principles of this rule.

EXAMPLES.
You ask, who would venture' in such a cause? Who would ven-
ture?? Rather say, who would not' venture all things for such an
object ?

He is called the friend' of virtue. The friend?! ay ! the enthu-


siastic lover', the devoted protector', rather..

So, also, when one receives unexpected information, he ex-


claims, Ah'! indeed'!

Remark. — In the above examples, the words “venture,” “friend,”


“ah,” <fcc., may be considered as interrogatory exclamations, be-
cause, if the sense were carried out, it would be in the form of
question; as, “Do you ask who would venture??” “Do you say
that he is the friend? of virtue?” “Is it possible'?” and thus,
they would receive the rising inflection according to this rule.

f
RISING AND FALLING INFLECTIONS.
Rule XI. — The different members of a sentence
expressing comparison, or contrast, or negation and
affirmation, or where the parts are united by or used
disjunctively, require different inflections; generally the
rising inflection in the first member, and the falling in-

Exercises . —Give examples under Rule X. Repeat the remark,


and explain the examples. What is the Rule XI? AVhat is the first

head under this rule? Give an example.



INFLECTIONS. 21

flection in the second member. This order is, however,


sometimes inverted.

§1. Comparison and contrast. This is also called antithesis.

EXAMPLES.
By all things approving ourselves the ministers of God; by honor',
and dishonor'; by evil' report, and good' report; as deceivers' and
yet true'; as unknown', and yet well' known; as dying', and behold
we live'; as chastened', and not killed'; as sorrowful', yet always
rejoicing'; as poor', yet making many rich'; as having nothing', and
yet possessing all' things.

Europe was one great battle-field, where the weak struggled for
freedom', and the strong for dominion'. The king was without
power', and the nobles, without principle'. They were tyrants at
home', and robbers abroad'.

§2. Negation and affirmation.

EXAMPLES.
He desired not to injure' his friend, but to protect' him.
We desire not your money', but yourselves'.
I did Hot say a better' soldier, but an elder'.

If the affirmative clause comes first, the order of the inflections


is inverted.
EXAMPLES.
He desired to protect' his friend, not to injure' him.
We desire yourselves', not your money'.
I said an elder' soldier, not a better'.

The affirmative clause is sometimes understood.

EXAMPLES.
We desire not your money'.
I did not say a better' soldier.
The region beyond the grave, is not a solitary' land.

In most negative sentences standing alone, the corresponding


affirmative is understood; hence, the following

Remark. —Negative sentences, whether alone or connected with


an affirmative clause, generally end with the rising inflection.

Exercises. What is the second head ? Give examples. If the


affirmative clause comes first, in what order are the inflections used?
Give examples. Is. either clause ever omitted? Repeat the remark.
.

22 INFLECTIONS.
/
If such sentences are repeated emphatically, they take the fall-

ing inflection, according to Rule VI.

EXAMPLES.
We do nots desire your money.
I did noC say a better soldier.

! §3. Or used disjunctively.

Did he behave properly'', or improperly'?


Are they living', or dead'?
Is he rich', or poor'?

Does God, having made his creatures, take no further7 care of


them, or does he preserve, and guide them'?

Remark. —Where or is used conjunctively, this rule does not


apply; as,

Will the law of kindness 7 or of justice' justify such conduct7 ?

CIRCUMFLEX.
The circumflex a union of the rising and falling-
is

inflections upon the same sound. Properly speaking,


there are two of these, the one called the rising circum-
flex, in which the voice slides down and then up; and

the other, the falling circumflex, in which the voice slides


upward and then downward, on the same vowel. They
may both be denoted by the same mark thus (A). The ;

circumflex is used chiefly to indicate the emphasis of


irony, of contrast, or of hypothesis.

EXAMPLES.
1. Queen. Hamlet, you Have your father much offended.
Hamlet. Madam, you have my father much offended.

2. They offer us their protection. Yes', such protection, as vul-


tures give to lambs, covering and devouring them.

Exercises —If sentences requiring the rising inflection are


repeated emphatically, what inflections are used ? What is the third
head under this rule? Repeat the remark. What
Give examples.
inflections are united to form the circumflex? Explain the two kinds
of circumflex. What does the circumflex indicate ? Give an example
in which it is used to indicate the emphasis of contrast, and explain it.

Explain the one in which the emphasis of irony is illustrated.


— !

INFLECTIONS. 23
3. I knew when seven justices could not make up a quarrel ;
but
when the parties met themselves, one of them thought but of an if;
as, ifyou said so, then I said so; O ho! did you say so? So they
shook hands and were sworn brothers.

Remarks. — In the first example, the emphasis is that of con-


trast. The queen had poisoned her husband, of which she incor-
rectly supposed her son ignorant, and she blames him for treating
his father-in-law with disrespect. In his reply, Hamlet contrasts
her deep crime with his own slight offense, and the circumflex
upon you, becomes proper.

In the second example, the emphasis is ironical. The Spaniards


pretended, that they would protect the Peruvians, if they would
submit to them, whereas, it was evident, that they merely desired
to plunder and destroy them. Thus, their protection is ironically,
called stick protection as vultures give to lambs &c. ,

In the third example, the word “so” is used hypothetically,


that is, it implies a condition or supposition. It will be observed
that the rising circumflex, is used in the first “so,” and the fall-

ing, in the second, because the first “so” must end with the rising
inflection, and the second, with the falling inflection, according to
previous rules.

MONOTOKE.
When no word an inflection, it
in a sentence receives
is said to be read in a monotone; that in nearly the is,

same tone throughout. This uniformity of tone is occa-


sionally adopted, and is fitted to express solemnity or
sublimity of idea, and sometimes intensity of feeling.
It is used, also, when the whole sentence or phrase is
emphatic. In books of elocution, when it is marked at
all, it is generally marked thus ( ), as in the lines fol- —
lowing.
EXAMPLES.
Hence loathed melancholy
!

Where brooding darkness spreads her jealous wings,

Exercises .
Give the last example and explain it. When is a
sentence said to be read in a monotone ? When is a monotone appro-
priate?
— ;

24 ACCENT.
And the night raven sings
There, under ebon shades and low-browed rocks,
As ragged as thy locks,
In deep Cimmerian darkness ever dwell.

IV. ACCENT
In every word which contains more than one syllable,
one of the syllables is pronounced with a somewhat
greater stress of voice, than the others. This syllable
is said to be accented. The accented syllable is distin-
guished by this mark ('), the same which is used in
inflections.
EXAMPLES.

Remark. —In most cases, custom is the only guide for placing
the accent on one syllable rather than another. Sometimes, how-
ever, the same word is differently accented, in order to mark its

different meanings.

EXAMPLES.
Con'-jure, to practice enchantments. Con-jure', to entreat.
(radiant, brave. Gal -lant'i a g a y fellow.
Mw'-gust, a month. Au -gust', grand.

Remark. A number of words, also, have their accent on one


syllable when verbs or adjectives, and on another, when nouns.

EXAMPLES.
Nw&Aject, the noun ;
to sub-ject^ the verb.

Pres'-e nt, “ to pre-sen^, “

Cbn'-duct., “ to con -duct', “

Ob'-ject, “ to ob -ject', 11

Exercises . —When is a syllable said to be accented ? Give an


example. How is the accented syllable marked? What is generally
the guide for placing the accent? When is the same word differently
accented? Give an example under each head.
W

EMPHASIS. 25

V. EMPHASIS.
A word is said to be emphasized when it is uttered ,

with a greater stress of voice, than the other words with


which it is connected.

Remark 1. —The
object of emphasis is, to attract particular
attention to the word upon which it is placed, indicating that the
idea to be conveyed depends very much upon that word. This
object, as just stated, is generally accomplished by increasing the
force of utterance, but sometimes, also, by a change in the inflec-
tion, the use of the monotone, or by uttering the words in a very

low tone. Emphatic words are often denoted by italics and a still ,

stronger emphasis by small capitals or LARGE CAPITALS,


according to the degree of emphasis desired.

Remark 2. —
Emphasis constitutes the most important feature
in reading and speaking, and, properly applied, gives life and
character to language. Accent, inflection, and, indeed, every thing
yields to emphasis.

Remark 3. — In the following examples, it will be seen that


accent is governed by it.

EXAMPLES.
What is done, can not be zwidone.
There is a difference between giving and forgiving.
He that descended is the same that ascended.

Some appear to make very little difference between decency and


indecency, morality and immorality, religion and irreligion.

Remark 4. — There is no better illustration of the nature and


importance of emphasis, than the following examples. It will

be observed that the meaning and proper answer of the question


vary with each change of the emphasis.

Exercises. — hen is a word emphasized? Upon what part


of the word is the increased stress placed ? What is the object of
emphasis ? In what other way, than the one just mentioned, can
this be accomplished? How are emphatic words marked? What
is said of the importance of emphasis ? What other things yield to
emphasis ?
—— :

26 EMPHASIS.

EXAMPLES.
QUESTIONS. ANSWERS.
Did you walk into the city yesterday? No, my brother went.
Did you toalk into the city yesterday ? No, I rode.
Did you walk into the city yesterday? No, I went into the country.
Did you walk into the city yesterday ? No, I went the day before.

ABSOLUTE EMPHASIS.
Sometimes a word is emphasized simply to indicate
the importance of the idea. This is called absolute
emphasis.
EXAMPLES.
To arms! they come! the Greek! the Greek!
Strike till the last armed foe expires,
Strike for your altars and your fires,
Strike for the green graves of your sires,
God and your native land.
Woe unto you, Pharisees! Hypocrites!
Days months years and ages shall circle away.
, , , ,

Remark. — In instances like the last, it is sometimes called the


emphasis of specification.

RELATIYE EMPHASIS.
Words are often emphasized, in order to exhibit the
idea they express, as compared or contrasted with some
other idea. This is called relative emphasis.
EXAMPLES.
It is much better to be injured than to injure.
,

They fight for plunder, we, for our country.


A friend can not be known in prosperity an enemy can not be hidden
in adversity.
They follow an adventurer whom they fear ; we serve a monarch
whom we love.

Exercises . —Give some examples in which accent yields to

emphasis. What is absolute emphasis ? Give examples. What is

meant by relative emphasis? Give the examples, and show the words
contrasted. Give the examples, in which the emphasis is carried
through several sets of contrasted words, and point out which words

are opposed to each other. (See last two examples on this page.)
? , — :

EMPHASIS. 27
Remark. — In many instances, one part only of the antithesis ia

expressed, the corresponding idea being understood; as,


A friendly eye would never see such faults.

Here the unfriendly eye is understood.


King Henry exclaims, while vainly endeavoring to compose
himself to rest,

How many thousands of my subjects are at this hour asleep.

Here the emphatic words thousands ,


subjects ,
and asleep are con*
trasted in idea with their opposites, and if the contrasted ideas
were expressed, it might be in this way
While / alone, their sovereign, am doomed to wakefulness.

EMPHATIC PHRASE.
Sometimes several words in succession are emphasized.
EXAMPLES.
Shall I, the conqueror of Spain and Gaul, and not only of the
Alpine nations, but of the Alps themselves —
shall I compare myself
with this HALF —YEAR —CAPTAIN?
Shall we try argument ? Sir, we have been trying that for the
LAST TEN YEARS.
And if thou said’st, I am not peer
To any lord in Scotland here,
Lowland or Highland, far or near,
Lord Angus thou hast LIED! — —

EMPHATIC PAUSE.
An emphatic expression of sentence often requires a
pause, whore the grammatical construction authorizes
none. This is sometimes called the rhetorical pause.
Such pauses occur, chiefly, before or after an em-
phatic word or phrase, and sometimes both before and
after it.

Exercises . — Is the idea corresponding to the emphatic word


ever left out? Explain the last two examples under this head, and
show what is the idea opposed to friendly, in the one, and what are
opposed to thousands, subjects and asleep, in the other. What
is meant

by the emphatic phrase Give the examples. What do you under-


stand by the emphatic pause? Where does it occur?
5th E. 8.
28 MODULATION.
EXAMPLES.
Eise —fellow men! —yet remains!
our country
By that dread name we wave the sword on high,
— —
And swear for her — to live with her to die.
-

But most —by numbers judge the poet’s song:


And smooth or rough, with them —right or ivrong.
is

He said; then full before their sight


Produced the beast, and lo !
— ’tivas white.

VI. MODULATION.
Modulation includes the variations of the voice.
These may be classed under the heads of Pitch, Com-
pass, Quantity, and Quality,

PITCH AND COMPASS.


If any one will notice closely a sentence as uttered in private
conversation, he will observe that very few successive words are
pronounced in exactly the same tone. At the same time, how-
ever, there is a certain pitch or key, which seems, on the whole,
to prevail.
This key-note or governing note, as it may be called, is that upon
which the voice most frequently dwells, to which it usually returns
when wearied, and upon which a sentence generally commences
and very frequently ends, while, at the same time, there is a con-
siderable play of the voice above and below it.
This note may be high or low. It varies in different indi-
viduals,and at different times in the same individual, being
governed by the nature of the subject and the emotions of the
speaker.
The range of the voice above and below this note, is called its
compass. When the speaker is animated, this range is great;
but upon abstract subjects, or with a dull speaker, it is small.
If, in reading or speaking, too high a note be chosen, the lungs

Exercises. — Give examples. What is modulation? What is

meant by the key-note? Is this the same at all times and in all

individuals? What circumstances cause it to differ? What is

meant by compass of voice? Under what circmstances is this range


great ?
, —
MODULATION. 29

will soon become wearied; if too low a pitch be selected, there


is danger of indistinctness of utterance; and in either case there
is less room for compass or variety of tone, than if one be taken
between the two extremes.
To secure the proper pitch and the greatest compass, observe
the following rule.

Rule XII. — The reader or speaker should choose that


which he can feel himself most at ease, and
pitch, in
above and below which he may have most room for
variation.


Remark 1. Having chosen the proper key-note, he should
beware of confining himself to it. This constitutes monotony, one
of the greatest faults in elocution. One very important instru-
ment for giving expression and life to thought is thus lost, and the
hearer soon becomes wearied and disgusted.

Remark 2. —
There is another fault of nearly equal magni-
tude,and of very frequent occurrence. This consists in varying
the tones without reference to the sense. A sentence is com-
menced with vehemence and in a high tone, and the voice grad-
ually sinks, until the breath being spent, it dies away in a
whisper.

Remark 3. —The habit of sing-song, so common in reading


poetry, as a variation of tone without reference to the sense,
it is

is a species of the fault above mentioned.


Remark 4. —If the reader or speaker is guided by the sense, and

if he gives that emphasis ,


inflection, and expression required by the
,

meaning these faults will speedily disappear.

Remark 5. To improve the voice in these respects, practice is


necessary. Commence, for example, with the lowest pitch the
voice can comfortably sound, and repeat whole paragraphs and
pages upon that key. Then rise one note higher, and practice on
that, then another, and so on, until the highest pitch of the voice
is reached. This is illustrated in the following example. Sound

Exercises . —When is it small ? If too high a key-note be


selected, what is the consequence? If the note be too low, what
danger is there? What is the rule on this subject? What is mo-
notony? What are the evils arising from this fault? What other
faults of tone are mentioned? What manner of reading poetry is
mentioned ? How are these faults to be corrected ?
— — —
30 MODULATION.
the lowest musical note and pronounce the sentence on the same,
then the next, and so on.

8. —do 0— Man wants but little here below.


7. si q Man wants but little here below.
G. — la q — Man wants but little here below.
5. sol q Man wants but little here below.
4. — fa q — Man wants but little here below.
3. mi q Man wants but little here below.
—2. —re —$ —Man wants but little here below.
1. do © Man wants but little here below.

QUANTITY AND QUALITY.


The tones of the voice should vary, also, in quantity ,

or degree of loudness and in quality or expression accord-


, , ,

ing to the nature of the subject.

Remark. —We notice a difference between the soft, insinuating


tones of persuasion; the command and de-full, strong voice of
and sometimes grating explosion of
cision; the harsh, irregular,
the sounds of passion; the plaintive notes of sorrow and pity;
and the equable and unimpassioned flow of words in argumenta-
tive style.

The following direction, upon this point, is worthy of attention.

Exile XIII. —The tones of the voice, should always


correspond, both in quantity and quality with the nature ,

of the subject.
EXAMPLES.
Passsion
f“C° me back! comeback!” he cried, in grief,
“Across this stormy water,
j
J ^ n<^ ^ f° rgi ve your Highland chief,
Grief. I

I My daughter! 0, my daughter!”
I have lived long enough: my way of life
Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf:
Plaintive. And that which should accompany old age,
As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have.

Exercises. What is said with regard to varying the tones in


quantity and quality ? What difference do we notice in tones ?
Repeat Rule XIII.
:

MODULATION. 31

A very great portion of this globe is covered with


water, which is called sea, and is very distinct from
{ rivers and lakes.

Burned Marmion’s swarthy cheek like fire,

And shook his very frame for ire,


Fierce And — “This to me?” he said;

Anger. “And ’twere not for thy hoary beard,


Such hand as Marmion’s had not spared
To cleave the Douglas’ head!

“Even in thy pitch of pride,


Here, in thy hold, thy vassals near,
Loud I tell thee tliou’rt defied!

and And if thou said’st I am not peer

Explosive. To any lord in Scotland here,


Lowland or Highland, far or near,
l Lord Angus, thou hast lied!”

Remark 1. — In our attempt to imitate nature, it is important


to avoid affectation ,
for to this fault even perfect monotony is

preferable.

Remark 2. — The strength of the voice may be increased by


practicing with different degrees of loudness from a whisper to
,

full rotundity, taking care to keep the voice on the same key.
The same note in music may be sounded loud or soft. So also a
sentence may be pronounced on the same pitch with different
degrees of loudness. Having practiced with different degrees of
loudness on one key, make the same experiment on another, and
then on another, and so on. This will also give the learner prac-
tice in compass.

Let the pupil sound the vowels, increasing from soft to loud,
and then decreasing from loud to soft, as follows

oooooOOOOOO
0 O O O o O o o o 0 O

Exercises. —What must be guarded against in attempts to

imitate nature? How may the voice be improved in strength? How


may the same note be sounded in music? How may this be applied
to reading a sentence?
W

32 POETIC PAUSES.

VII. POETIC PAUSES.


In poetry, we have, in addition to other pauses, poetic-
pauses. The object of these is simply to promote the
melody.
At the end of each line, a slight pause is generally
proper, whatever be the grammatical construction or
the sense. The purpose of this is, to make prominent
the melody of the measure, and, in rhyme, to allow the
ear to appreciate the harmony of the similar sounds.
There another important pause, somewhere
is, also,
near the middle of each line, which is called the cesura
or cesural pause. In the following lines it is marked
thus ( ). — EXAMPLES.
There are hours long departed —which memory brings,
— to twine round the heart,
Like blossoms of Eden
And as time rushes by — on the might of his wings,
They may dai’ken awhile —but they never depart.

Remark. —The cesural pause should never be so placed as to


injure the sense. The following lines, if melody alone were con-
sulted, would be read thus,
With —bor Clara bound,
fruitless la
And — the gushing wound;
strove to stanch
The Monk with un— availing cai’es,

Exhausted —the church’s prayers.


all

This manner of reading, however, it will be readily perceived,


would very much interfere with the proper expression of the idea.
This is. to be corrected, by making the cesural pause yield to the
sense. The melody is not injured by this, as much as might be
supposed. The above lines should be read thus,

With fruitless labor — Clara bound,


And strove to stanch —the gushing wound;
Exercises. — peculiar to poetry? What is the
hat pause is

object of this pause? Where is a slight pause generally proper?


What is its object ? What other pause in poetry is used? What is
it called? Point it out in the examples. What caution is given with
regard to its use?
\ ' \

EXERCISES. 33
The Monk —with unavailing cares,
Exhausted — the church’s prayers.
all

Sometimes, where the sense requires it, two cesural


pauses may he made instead of one.
EXAMPLES.
—thy warfare
Soldier, rest! o’er,

Sleep the sleep — that knows not breaking;


Dream — of battle —no more,
fields
Days of danger— nights of waking.
“Ah, wretch!” — in wild anguish—he cried,
“From country — and liberty — torn!
Ah, Maratan! —would thou hadst died,
Ere o’er the salt waves thou wert borne.”

In lines like the following, three cesural pauses are


proper. The first and last are slight, and are sometimes
called demi-cesuras.

Our bugles-sang truce —for the night cloud-had lowered,



And the sentinel stars set their watch-in the sky;
And thousands-had sunk—on the ground-overpowered:
The weary-to sleep — and the wounded-to die.
E x e k. c i s e s
.

Explain this by the example given in the lines,
“With fruitless labor,” &c. When may there be two cesural pauses?
When there are three, what are the first and last called ?

EXEECISES.
I. DEATH OF FRANKLIN.
( To be read in a solemn tone.)

Franklin is dead. The genius who freed America ' and poured
a copious stream ofknowledge throughout Europe?, is returned
unto the bosom of the Divinity The sage to whom two worlds'
lay claim, the man for whom science and politics' are disputing,
indisputably enjoyed an elevated rank in human nature.
The cabinets of princes have been long in the habit of notifying
the death of those who were great', only in their funeral orations
Long hath the etiquette of courts' ,
proclaimed the mourning of
hypocrisy \ Nations' should wear mourning for none but their
benefactors'. The representatives' of nations should recommend to
public homage'', only those who have been the heroes of humanity
? ' ? , — ? '

84 EXERCISES.

II. BONAPARTE.
He knew no but interest '; acknowledged no criterion
motive
but success '; be worshiped no-God/ but ambition'-, and with an
eastern devotion 7 he knelt at the shrine of his idolatry'.. Subsid-
iary to this, there was no creed' that he did not profess', there was
no opinion' that he did not promulgate'': in the hope of a dynasty',
he upheld the crescemt'; for the sake of a divorce? he bowed before
the cross' the orphan of St. Louis' he became the adopted child
of the republic'", and with a parricidal ingratitude 7 on the ruins ,

both of the throne and the tribune he reared the throne of his
despotism '.
r
At his touch, crowns' crumbled beggars' reigned '; systems' van-
ished' the wildest theories' took the color of his whim'; and all
that was venerable '. and all that was novel', changed places with
the rapidity of a dramaA Nature had no obstacle that he did not
surmount '; space no opposition' he did not spurn and whether
amid Alpine rocks'' Arabian sands'
*, —
or Polar snows',— he seemed ,

proof ' against peril', and empowered with ubiquity\

III. HAMLET ON SEEING THE SKULL OF YORIC7L


Alas! poor Yorick! I knew him well', Horatio 7 a fellow of
;

7
infinite jest ,
of most excellent fancy'. He hath borne me on his
back 7
a thousand times'; and now', how
,
abhorred in my imagina-
tion this skull'!
is My gorge rises' at it. Here hung those lips
that I have kissed, I know not how oft'. Where are your gibes',
now ? your gambols' your songs' your flashes of merriment ', that
were wont to set the table in a roar'? Not one?, now, to mock
your grinning 7 ? quite chop-fallen' ? Now get you to my lady’s
chamber', and tell her7 if she paint an inch thick', yet to this
,

favor7 will she come at last'.

IY. DESCRIPTION OF A BATTLE.


Yet Lord Marmion’s falcon flew7
still

With wavering flight', while fiercer grew


Around, the battle yell.
The border slogan rent the sky',
A Home'! a Gordon'! was the cry';
Loud7 were the clanging blows';

Advanced 7 forced back', now low 7
, — , — now high',
The pennon sunk7 and rose'; —
As bends the bark’s mast in the gale 7 ,

7
When rent are rigging', shrouds', and sail ,

It wavered ’mid the foes'.


— —; —
EXERCISES. 35

The war, that for a space did fail',

Now trebly thundering swelled the gale',


And Stanley '/ was the cry;
A light on Marmion’s visage spread'',
And fired his glazing eye':
With dying hand', above his head',
He shook the fragment of his blade',
And shouted', — “ Victory '/
Charge ', Chester', charge '/ On', Stanley', on'/”
Were the last words of M arm ion.
V. LORD ULLIN’S DAUGHTER.
For the inflections ancl emphasis in this selection, let the pupil b®
guided by his own judgment.

A chieftain to the Highlands bound,


Cries, “Boatman, do not tarry !

And I’ll give thee a silver pound,


To row us o’er the ferry.”

“Now, who be ye would cross Loch-Gyle,


This dark and stormy water?”
“0! I’m the chief of Ulva’s isle,

And this, Lord Ullin’s daughter.

“And fast before her father’s men


Three dayk we’ve fled together,
For should he find us in the glen,
My blood would stain the heather.
“His horsemen hard behind us ride;
Should they our steps discover,
Then who will cheer my bonny bride,
When they have slain her lover?”

Out spoke the hardy Highland wight,


“I’ll go, my chief — I’m ready:
It is not for your silver bright,
But for your winsome lady:

“And, by my word! the bonny bird


In danger shall not tarry
.

So, though the waves are raging white,


I’ll row you o’er the ferry.”
; : ;

88 EXERCISES.
By this, the storm grew loud apace,
The water wraith was shrieking
And, in the scowl of heaven, each face
Grew dark as they were speaking.

But still, as wilder grew the wind,


And as the night grew drearer,
Adown the glen rode armkd men,
Their trampling sounded nearer.

“ 0 haste thee, haste ” the lady ! cries,


“ Though tempests round us gather,
I ’llmeet the raging of the skies,
But not an angry father.”

The boat has left the stormy land,


A stormy sea before her
When, O! too strong for human hand,
The tempest gathered o’er her.

And still they rowed, amid the roar


Of waters fast prevailing;
Lord Ultra reached that fatal shore,
His wrath was changed to wailing.

For sore dismayed through storm and shade


His child he did discover;
One lovely hand she stretched for aid,
And one was round her lover.

“Come back! come back!” he cried, in grief,


“Across this stormy water;
And I’ll forgive your Highland chief,

My daughter !
0, my daughter !

'T was vain the loud waves lashed the shore,


:

Return or aid preventing


The waters wild, went o’er his child,
And he was left lamenting.
NEW FIFTH HEADER

LESSON I.

WORDS TO BE SPELLED AND DEFINED.


1. Qual-i-fi-ca'tions; n. traits. $ 4. Graceful; adj. elegant.

2. State'li-est; adj. most digni- < 5. Veri/ure; n. greenness.


tied and lofty. \
7. In-sure'; v. to make sure.

Note.— The head of each lesson, corre-


definitions given at the
spond with the meaning of the word as used in the lesson.

THE FOREST TREES.— A Fable.

Words marked thus ('*'), in the body of the lessons, should be

spelled and defined in addition to those whose definitions are given.

See ^various and + eonversation in the first paragraph.

Pronounce correctly the following words found in this lesson.


Do not say for-es for for-esi ; va-rous for va-ri-ous; sev'ral for sev-
er-al ;
tall-ss for tall-esi ; friens for frieiiofe ;
state-li-ess for state-li-esz! ;

s'lect-ed for se-lect-ed.

1. In a fine forest of trees of "["various kinds, there


were several which were holding a ^conversation npon
their "^particular beauty, use, size, strength, and other
qualifications. Some- + boasted of one thing, some of
another.
2. One of the tallest and finest trees said proudly,

“Which of you, my friends, is so tall and straight as I


am ? I am the stateliest tree in the forest.”
3. Another one said, “Which of you is so strong as I
am? I have stood
storm for years, and no beast
in the
has been able to bend or break me down. I am the
strongest tree in the forest.”
4. A third said, “Which of you is so graceful as I
am? My branches allwave in the breeze in the most
+ elegant manner. I am the most graceful tree in the
forest.”
(
37 )

' ;

38 NEW FIFTH READER.


Another said, “Yon may all boast of your size,
5.

strength,and + elegance, but when winter has stripped


you of your verdure, how naked and "''desolate you ap-
pear, while I am
clothed in + everlasting green. I am
the only tree worth looking at. I am the brightest and
most + unfading tree in the forest.”
6. While these + vain trees were thus talking, each

trying to appear better than the others, the owner of


the forest came with his wood-cutter, to mark some
trees which he meant to have cut down v . The tall, the
strong, the graceful, and the evergreen tree, were all
+ selected and in another hour were laid low by the ax,
and cut up for use v .

MORAL.
7. Thus you see how foolish it is to be proud of any
qualifications we possess, as like these + boastful trees,
we have not power to insure their "’'continuance^.
Exercises .
Relate this fable. What is its moral?
Where are falling inflections marked in this lesson? Where,
rising inflections?

LESSON II.

WORDS TO BE SPELLED AND DEFINED.


3. Sap'ling; n. a small tree. 3. Rift'ed; adj. burst open.
^

3. GrapAlcd; v. contended with. <


4. Gust'y; adj. stormy.

THE OAK-TREE.
Pronounce correctly. Do not say mon-uch for mon-a?-ch ;
for-es
for for-es<; a-cun for a-corn; fuss for first ; firm-iss for firm-cs<;
tem-pis for tem-peste.

1. Sing for the oak-tree,


The "’monarch of the wood
Sing for the oak-tree,
That groweth green and good;
That groweth broad and branching
Within the "tforest shade;
That groweth now, and yet shall grow,
When we are lowly laid.
— E ! : ; ; ;

f
ECLECTIC SERIES. 39

2. The oak-tree was an + acorn once,

And fell upon the earth;


And sun and showers nourished it,

And gave the oak-tree birth.


The little + sprouting oak-tree!
Two leaves it had at first,
The sun and showers had nourished it,

Then out the branches burst.


3. The little sapling oak-tree
Its root was like a thread,
Till the kindly earth had nourished it

Then out it freely spread

On this side and on that side


It grappled with the ground
And in the tancient, rifted rock,

Its firmest footing found.

4. The winds came, and the rain fell


The gusty tempest blew;
All, all were friends to the oak-tree,
And stronger yet it grew.
The boy that saw the acorn fall',
He feeble grew and gray v ;

But the oak was still a "Thriving tree',


And strengthened every day v .

Exercises. From what does an oak-tree grow? How is it

nourished? What is said of its age, in the last verse ?

Where is the rising inflection marked in this lesson? What is the


rule for its use there? Where is the falling inflection marked?
What rule?

EXERCISE I.—ARTICULATION.
To Teachers. — ach difficult word should be uttered clearly,
first, by its elements, and then by their combination, omitting silent
letters: as, deth, death, crim, crime. Then read carefully and distinctly.

Ribs, death, cry, crime, orb’d, act, acts.


The Can you cry crackers crime cruelty crutch^h.
ribs of death. , , , ,

The orb'd was the worst act of all acts. It is a mixed


moon. It
government. The idle spindle. Long droves of cattle. Their deeds
show their feelings. The length and breadth and depth of the, ,

thing. It was highly and holily done.


40 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON III.

1. Re-source'; n. means of sup- 18; In-aui/i-ble; adj. that can not


^

ply. . \ be heard.
3. DwiN'DLeD; v. became less. 5 19. Im'ple-ments; n. ools.

4. Es-pi'eD; v. saw. s 19. In'va-lid; n. a sick person.

5. Fai/ter-ing; «#. hesitating. \


22. Con-sol'ing-ly adv. comfort-
;

9. Bonds'man; n. one bound for s ingly.


another. 5 22. Un-wont'ed; adj. unusual.
12. Yi-bra'txons; n. a tremulous 5 23. Pre-scrip'tion ;
n. direction
motion. > for medicines.
13. Husk'y; adj. dry; rough. 5 34. Ob-li-ga'tion ;
n. promise.

THE POOR WIDOW.


Pronounce correctly. Do not say chile tor chilrf; wip-in for
wip-iny ; fel-ler for fel-low; fuss for firsi; kine-ly for kind-ly; lay-in
for lay-in^; han for hanrf; dol-luz for dol-Ws.
1. “It must be, my child,” said the poor widow,

wiping away the tears which slowly + trickled down her


wasted cheeks. “There is no other resource. I am too
sick to work, and you can not surely see me and your
little brother starve.”
2. The boy, a noble-looking little fellow of about ten
years, started up, and after throwing his arms around
his mother’s neck, left the house without a word. He
did not hear the groan of + anguish that was uttered by
his parent, as the door closed behind him and it was
;

well that he did not, for his little heart was ready to
burst without it.

3. It was a by-street
in Philadelphia, and as he
walked to-and-fro on the sidewalk, he looked first at
one person and then at another, as they passed him; but
no one seemed to look kindly on him, and the longer he
waited, the faster his courage dwindled away. The
tears were running fast down his cheeks, but nobody
seemed to care; for although clean, Henry looked poor
and + miserable, and it is common for the poor and mis-
erable to cry.
4. Every body seemed in a hurry, and the poor boy
;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 41
+ when he espied a gentle-
•was quite in despair, at last
man who seemed to he very + leisurely taking a morning
walk. He was dressed in black, wore a three-cornered
hat, and had a pleasant +countenance. When Henry
looked at him, he felt all his fears + vanish at once, and
instantly approached him.
5. His tears had been flowing so long, that his eyes

were quite red and swollen, and his voice trembled;


but that was with weakness,, for he had not eaten for
twenty-four hours. As Henry, with a low faltering
voice, begged for a little ^charity, the gentleman stopped
and his kind heart melted with + compassion, as he
looked into the fair countenance of the poor boy, and
saw the deep + blush which, spread over his face, and
listened to the modest, humble tones, which + accompa-
nied his + petition.
6. “ You do not look like a boy who has been '^accus-

tomed to beg his bread,” said he, laying his hand kindly
on the boy’s shoulder; “what has driven you to this
step?”
7. “ Indeed,” answered Henry, his tears beginning to

flow afresh, “indeed, I was not born in this condition.


But the misfortunes of my father, and the sickness of
my mother, have driven me to this step.”
10.
8. “Who is your father?” inquired the gentleman,
still more + interested.

9. “My father was a rich merchant of this city; but

he became bondsman for a friend, who soon after Hailed,


and he was entirely ruined. He could not live long-
after this loss, and in one month died of +grief and his
;

death was more dreadful than any of our troubles. My


mother, my little brother, and myself, soon sunk into
the lowest depths of poverty.
“My mother has, until now, + managed to support
herself and my little brother by her labor, and I have
earned what I could, by shoveling snow, and other work
that I could find to do. But, night before last, she was
taken very sick, and has gince become so much worse,
that I fear she will die. I can not think of any way to
help her.
;

42 NEW FIFTH READER.


11. “I have had no work for several weeks. I have
not had the courage to go to any of my mother’s old
+ acquaintances, and tell them that she has come to need

charity. I thought you looked like a stranger, sir, and


something in your face overcame my shame, and gave
me courage to speak to you. Oh, sir, clo pity my poor
mother.”
12. The tears, and the simple, moving language of the
poor boy, touched a chord in the breast of the stranger,
which was accustomed to frequent vibrations.
13. '‘Where does your mother live, my boy?” said he

in a husky voice “ is it far from here ?
:

14. “She lives in the last house on this street, sir,”


replied Henry. “You can see it from here in the third
block, and on the left-hand side.”
15. “Have you sent for a + physician?”
16. “Ho, sir,” said the boy, “I had no money, to pay
either for a physician or for + medicine.”
17. “Here,” said the stranger, drawing some pieces of

money from his pocket “here are three dollars; take
them and run immediately for a physician.”
18. Henry’s eyes flashed with + gratitude; he received
the money with a + stammering and almost inaudible
voice but with a look of the warmest gratitude he van-
;

ished.
19. The ^benevolent stranger instantly sought the
dwelling of the sick widow. He entered a little room,
in which he could see nothing but a few implements of
female labor, a miserable table, an old + bureau, and a
little bed which stood in one corner, on which the inva-
lid lay. She appeared weak, and almost + exhausted
and on the bed, at her feet, sat a little boy, crying as if
his heart would break.
20. Deeply moved at this sight, the stranger drew
near the bedside of the invalid, and, + feigning to be a
physician, inquired into the nature of her + disease.
The symptoms were explained in a few words, when the
widow, with a deep sigh, added, “O, my sickness has a
deeper cause, and one which is beyond the art of the
physician to cure.
ECLECTIC SERIES. 43

21. “ I a mother, a wretched mother. I see my


am
children sinking daily deeper and deeper in want, which
I have no means of relieving. My
sickness is of the
heart, and nothing hut death can rid my sorrows. But
even death is dreadful to me, for it awakens the thought
of the misery into which my children would he plunged

22. Here + emotion


checked her ''utterance, and the
tears flowed ‘‘‘unrestrained down her cheeks. But the
pretended physician spoke so consolingly to her, and
‘‘‘manifested so warm a ‘‘‘sympathy for her condition,
that the heart of the poor woman ‘‘‘throbbed with a
pleasure that was unwonted.
23. “Do not despair,” said the stranger, “think
only of recovery, and of preserving a life that is so
precious to your children. Can I write a prescription
here?”
24. The poor widow took a little prayer-book from
the hands of the child who sat with her on the bed,
and, tearing out a blank leaf, “I have no other,” said
she, “but perhaps this will do.”
25. The stranger took a pencil from his pocket, and
wrote a few lines upon the paper.
26. “This prescription,” said he, “you will find of
great service to you. If it is necessary, I will write
you a second. I have great hopes of your recovery.”
27. He laid the paper on the table, and departed.
Scarcely was he gone, when the elder son returned.
28. “Cheer up, dear mother,” said he, “going up and
‘‘‘affectionately kissing her. “ See what a kind, benevo-
lent stranger has given us. It will make us rich for
several days. It has + enabled us to have a physician,
and he will be here in a moment. '•‘Compose yourself,
now, dear mother, and take courage.”
29. “Come nearer, my son,” answered the mother,
looking with pride and affection on her child. “ Come
nearer, that I may bless you. God never forsakes the
innocent, and the good. O, may he watch over you in
all your paths A physician has just been here. He
!

was a stranger, but he spoke to me with a kindness


5th Rd. 4.

44 NEW FIFTH READER.


that was + balm
to my_ heart. He left that prescription
on the See if you can read it.”
table.
30. Henry glanced at the paper and started back.
He took it up, and as he read it through again and
again, a cry of wonder and astonishment escaped him.
31. “What is it
v
,
my # son'?” exclaimed the poor
widow, trembling with an + apprehension

of she knew
not what.
32. “Ah, read, dear mother! God has heard us.”
33. The mother took the paper from the hand of her
son, but no sooner had she fixed her eyes upon it, than
she exclaimed, “It is Washington ” and fell back faint- !

ing on her pillow.


34. The writing was an obligation from Washing-

ton for it was indeed he' by which the widow —
was to receive the sum of one hundred dollars from
his own private + property, to be doubled in case of ne-
cessity.
35. Meanwhile, the expected physician made his ap-
pearance, and soon awoke the mother from her faint-
ing fit. The joyful + surprise, together with a good
nurse, with which the physician supplied her. and a
plenty of wholesome food', soon restored her to perfect
health^.
36. The ^influence of Washington, who visited them
more than once, provided for the widow, friends, who
furnished her with constant employment and her sons, ;

when they arrived at the proper age, were placed in


^respectable situations, where they were able to support
themselves, and '^render the remainder of their mother’s
lifecomfortable and happy.
37. Let the children who read this story remember,
when they think of the great and good Washington,
that he was not above entering the dwelling of poverty,
and carrying joy and gladness to the hearts of its + in-
mates.

Exercises. What did the boy attempt to do? What success


did he have? What did the man, whom he met, say and do? Whom
did it prove to be? What should his example teach us?
; ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 45

EXERCISE II.—ARTICULATION.
gm^Let the teacher select the difficult words for the pupil to spell
by their elements.

Articulate distinctly the difficult sounds. Earth that entomb' st


all my heart holds dear. His attempts were faithless. Hold off
your hands ,
gentlemen. The sounds of horses' hoofs were heard.
What want'st thou here? It was wrenched by the hand of violence.
Their singed tops ,
though bare, will stand. The strength of his
nostrils is terrible. A gentle current rippled by. He barb'd the
dart. How do you like herbs in your broth t

LESSON IV.

1. Tem'ple; n. a church. ^4. Striven; v. contended against.


2. Shel'ter-ing ;
v. protecting. 5. Dis-tressO n. misery.
2. Rest'less; adj. not quiet. 6. Pen'i-tence; n. sorrow, [wings.
3. E'ven-tide; n. evening. ' 6. Brooding; v. covering with

TIRED OF PLAY.
Pronounce correctly the following words in this lesson. Do
not say creep-in for creep-ing; shelter-in for shelter-ing; brood-in for
brood-ing; sing-in for sing-ing ;
res-less for rest-less ;
fauls for faults;
coulds for couldst; cre-tur for creat-ure (pro. creatd-yur).

1. Tired of play tired of play ! !

What hast thou done this + livelong dayv ?


The birds are silent, and so is the bee
The sun is creeping up temple and tree
2. The doves have flown to the sheltering eaves,
And the nests are dark with the + drooping leaves,
Twilight gathers and day is done,
How hast thou spent it, restless onev ?

3. Playing-'? But what hast thou done beside,


To tell thy mother at even-tide v ?
What promise of morn is left unbroken ?
What kind word to thy + playmate spoken v ?
— ;

46 NEW FIFTH READER.


4. Whom hast thou pitied and whom forgiven ?
How with thy faults has duty striven ?
What hast thou learned by field and hill ?
By + greenwood path, and singing rill v ?
5. Well for thee if thou couldst tell
A tale like this of a day spent well,
If thy kind hand has aided distress,
And thou pity hast felt for h
wretchedness';

6. If thou hast forgiven a brother’s '^offense,


And grieved for thine own with penitence
If every creature has won thy love,
From the creeping worm to the brooding dove,
Then with joy and peace on the bed of rest
Thou wilt sleep as on thy mother’s breast^.
Exercises. What meant by the expression, “The sun is
is

creeping up temple and tree”? How had the day been spent? How
ought our days to be spent that we may feel peace and happiness at
their close? What inflection should “playing 1 receive in the 3d

stanza? Why?

LESSON V.

2. Con'scious-ness; n. feeling $
10. Ap-peals 7 ;
n. call for aid.

• knowledge.
2. Ve/iii-cle; n. a carriage.
7. Plaid; n. a blanket.

THE ORPHAN.
Pronounce correctly the following words in this lesson. Do not
say coach-mun for coach-man; un-pleas-unt for un-pleas-ant.; si-

lunced for si-lenced; be-nev-o-lunt for be-nev-o-lent; in-temp runce for


in-tem-per-ance; ig-no-runce for ig-no-rance ;
re-cul-lect for rec-ol lect;

sup:prised for sur-prised ;


dround-ed for drowned.

1. On a dark, cold night, in the middle of November,

asMr. Lawrence was traveling in a stage-coach from


London to Norwich, he was roused from a sound sleep,
ECLECTIC SERIES. 47
at the end of the stage, by the coachman’s opening
the door of the carriage, and begging leave to look
for a parcel which was in the box under Mr. Lawrence’s
seat.
2. The opening of the door admitted a violent gust

of wind and rain, which was very unpleasant to the


feeling of the sleeping + passengers, and roused them to a
consciousness of the + situation of those who were on the
outside of the vehicle.
3. “ I hope, coachman, you have a good thick coat on,

to guard you against the cold and wet,” said Mr. Law-
rence. “I have a very good one, sir,” replied the man,
“but I have lent it to a poor little girl we have on the
top for my heart bled for her, poor thing, she had so
;

little clothing to keep her warm.”


4. “A clnld exposed on the outside of the coach, on

such a night as this!” exclaimed Mr. Lawrence. “I


am sure it would be very wrong in us to let her stay
there. Do let us have her in + immediately. It is quite
+ shocking to think of her being in such a situation.”

5. “ O no,” cried a gentleman opposite, “ we can do

nothing with her. It is quite out of the question. The


coach is already full, and she will be so wet, that we
5
might as well be on the outside ourselves, as’ sit near
'

her. Beside, she is a poor child, in charge of the master


of a work-house, and one does not know what she may
have about her.”
6. “Why, as to that, sir,” replied the coachman, “I

believe she is as clean as a<ny child need be, though she


+ delicate looking, poor thing But she is a
is rather !

fine little creature, and deserves better fare than she is


likely to get where she is-going.”
7. “Let her come in, at any rate,” said Mr. Law-

rence, “ for poor or rich, she is equally + sensible to cold,


and no one, I am sure, who has a child of his own, can
bear the idea of her being so exposed. And as to her
being wet, I will wrap her in my plaid, and take her
on my knee, so that no one can. feel any + inconvenience
from it.”
8. This silenced the gentleman’s
+ objections; and the
;

48 NEW FIFTH READER.


rest of the company agreeingto it, the coachman was
desired to bring the child which he gladly did, and
in,
the dry plaid being rolled about her, Mr. Lawrence took
her upon his knee, and putting his arm around her,
9.
clasped her with + benevolence and self-satisfaction to
"his breast. “I am afraid you are very cold, my poor
little girl,” said he.
“I was very cold, indeed, till the coachman was so
good as to let me have his coat,” replied she, in a very
sweet and cheerful voice; “but you have made me
warmer still,” she added, and as she spoke, she laid her
head against the breast of her benevolent friend, and
was asleep in a few minutes.
10. “ The coachman showed a great deal of ^concern
for her,” said one of the passengers; “I could hardly
have expected so much feeling in the driver of a stage-
coach.” “ I believe there is much m#re humanity among
the lower classes of people, than is generally supposed,”
said Mr. Lawrence, “for we seldom meet with one who
+
is deaf to the appeals of childhood or helplessness.”

11. His companion was too sleepy to dispute the


point, and the whole party soon sunk into the same
state of torpor, from which this little incident had
roused them, and from which they were only + occasion-
ally disturbed by the changing of horses, or the coach-
man’s + application for his + usual fee, till the full dawn
of day induced them to shake off their ^drowsiness.
12. When Mr. Lawrence awoke, he found that his
little companion was still in a deep sleep, and he
thought, with satisfaction, of the sound rest he had pro-
cured for her, with only a very little + inconvenience to
himself. He was glad, too, that he had interested him-
self for her before he saw her for had he seen the + pre-
;

possessing face which he then beheld, he might have


suspected that his + interference had been prompted by
her beauty as much as by her distress.
13. She was of a fair complexion and regular features
but Mr. Lawrence was particularly interested in her
sensible and expressive countenance, which indicated
extreme sweetness of disposition. “What a pity,”
ECLECTIC SERIES. 49

thought he, as he looked at her, “that so promising a


+ charity of a
little creature should be' confined to the

poor-house, and there reared in vice and ignorance!
14. As these thoughts passed across his mind, the
little girl awoke, and looked around her, as if at a loss
to know where she was but, at the next moment, seem-
;

ing to. + recollect herself, and looking in Mr. Lawrence’s


face, she returned his kindness by a smile of satisfaction.
“Have you had a good sleep, my dear?” asked he,
kindly. “ Yes, sir, I have been sleeping very soundly,

and I thought I was at home.”


15. “Where is your home?” asked Mr. Lawrence.
“I call where my Aunt Mary used to live my home.”
“And where did your Aunt Mary~live?” “I do not
know’ what they called the place, hut it was at the end
of a long lane, and there was a pretty garden before the
house. It was such a nice place I am sure you would
;

like you saw it.”


it if

16. “Do you know the name of the place?” “No, sir,
I do not know what they call it only that it was Aunt
;

Mary’s house, and it was near the large town they call
Essex, where my father lived, and where there were a
great many ships, and a large river.”
17. Surprised at the easy and correct manner in
which this little girl, who bore marks of nothing but
the greatest poverty, expressed herself, Mr. Lawrence’s
+ curiosity was greatly excited,
and feeling much inter-
ested respecting her, he asked her name.
18. “ My Aunt Mary used to call me Fanny Ed-
wards,” replied she, “but my new mother told me I
must say my name is Peggy Short, but I do not like
that name.”
19. “ Why did she tell you to call yourself by that
name?” asked Mr. Lawrence. “ I can not tell you, sir,
for she used to call me Fanny herself till she took me
to the large town that we came to yesterday and then, ;
*

she called me Peggy, and said I must call myself so.”


20. “Where is your Aunt Mary now? And your new
mother, as you call her, where is she gone?”
21. “My Aunt Mary went away a long time since.
.

50 NEW FIFTH READER.


She said she was forced to go to a lady who wasjll, that
had been very kind to her but she would come back to
;

me soon, and then I should live with her again, and that
I must love Jier till she came back, and I have loved her
all this time very dearly, but she has never come again.’’
As the child said this, her little heart swelled, and her
eyes tilled with tears.
22. “Where did you go when she left you?” '’'in-
quired Mr. Lawrence. “I went to live with my father;
for I had a new mother, my Aunt Mary said, who would
take care of me. But my father went qway in a ship,
and my new mother said he was drowned in the sea,
and would never come back again and then she was
;

not very kind to me not so very kind as my Aunt


;

Mary used to be for my Aunt Mary never beat me, but


;

used to take me upon her knee, and tell me pretty


*

stories, and teach me the way to read them myself, that


I might learn to be a useful woman; and used to kiss
me, and say she loved me very dearly when I was a
good girl.”
23. “And I hope you were always a good girl,” said
Mr. Lawrence, patting her cheek. “Mo, sir,” said she,
“I was not always good, for once I told a story, and my
Aunt Mary did not love me for a great many days, and
I was very unhappy.” “ That was indeed bad, but you
will never tell another story, I trust.”
24. “I hope not,” said the child '’'modestly; and Mr.
Lawrence, '’'desirous of knowing something more of her
history, asked her again what had become of her mother.
“ I do not know what has become of her, but I am afraid
she has lost herself, for when we got to the large town,
she told me to sit down upon a door-step, until she came
back to me. I sat a very long time, till it was quite
dark, and I was very cold and hungry, and she never
came to me, and I could not help crying. The lady that
4 lived in the house heard me, asked me what was the
matter; and when I told her, she took me into the
kitchen, and gave me something to eat, and Avas very
kind to me.”
25. At this simple + narrative, the passengers were all
d

ECLECTIC SERIES. 51

much Even the gentleman who had first + op-


affected.
posed her coming into the coach, rubbed his hand across
his eyes and said, “Poor thing, poor thing;” while Mr.
Lawrence pressed her more closely toward him, and
rejoiced that Providence had thrown in his way, this
sweet little girl, whom he resolved to adopt and add to
his own happy family.

Exercises .—What were the circumstances which led Mr. Law-


rence to become interested in the orphan? Relate her story as 6ha
told it to him. What did he do for her?

EXERCISE III.

They reefed the topsails. No dangers fright him. He quench'd


a flame. She laughs at him. A frame of adamant. She begg'

pardon. Thou look' st from thy throne in the clouds, and laugh' st at
the storm. The glow-worm lights her lamp. The table groans
beneath its burden. All clothed in rags, an infant lay.

LESSON VI.

1. Hale; adj. healthy; robust. 5 3. Man'tel-tree; n. shelf over


3. Plod'ded; v. went slowly. I afire-place.

THE GRANDFATHER.
Pronounce the following words in this lesson correctly. Do
not say smok-in for smok-iny ; cledr-in for clear-im?; ketch-in for
catch-ing ; turn-in for turn-iny; spin-nin for spin-niny.

1. The farmer sat in his easy-chair


Smoking his pipe of clay,
While his hale old wife with busy care,
W
as clearing the dinner away ;

A sweet little girl with fine blue eyes,


On her grandfather’s knee, was catching flies.

2. The old man laid hishand on her head,


With a tear on hiswrinkled face,
He thought how often her mother dead,
Had sat in the self-same place ;

5th Rd. 6.
T ) ;

62 NEW FIFTH READER.


As the tear stole down from his half-shut eye,
“Don't smokef said the '

child, “how it makes you cry!”

3. The house-dog lay, stretched out on the floor,


Where the shade, afternoons, used to steal
The busy old wife by the open door
Was turning the spinning-wheel,
And the old brass clock on the mantel-tree,
Had plodded along to almost three.
4. Still the farmer sat in his easy-chair,
While close to his heaving breast,
The moistened brow and the cheek so fair
Of’liis sweet grandchild were pressed;
His head bent down, on her soft hair lay ;

Fast asleep were they both on that summer day.

Exercises . —Tell the story of tho farmer and his sweet grand-
child, as related in the above verses.
Wlmt noun in the last line? What pronoun? What verb? What
adjectives? What adverb? What preposition?

To Teachers. — he grammatical questions introduced at the


close of the reading lessons, will be found to add interest and value to
the exercise of reading. They should by no means be neglected, but
may be varied or increased at the discretion of the teacher.

EXERCISE IV.

Itwas a species of calx which he showed me. ,

The word filch is of doubtful derivation.


If thou fait st thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
,

Health is indispensable to the soldier.


Those who lie entomb' d in the cemetery.
The and not the deed, confounds us.
attempt
But truth, and liberty, and virtue, would fall with him.
The song' began from Jove.
Bo you mean plain or playing ?
I quench thee, thou flaming fir e-brand.

A frame of adamant, and strength of Hercules.


The hills, and halls, and hulls.

The ranges and changes, and hinges and fringes.


,

Spasms and prisms and chasms, and phasms.


, ,

ECLECTIC SERIES. 53

LESSON VII

2. Dis-cov'ER-eu ;
v. found out. 6. Rapt'ures; n. extreme de-

2. Ti'ny ;
adj. very small. light.

3. Com-pos'er; n. an author. 8 - Charting; v. talking famil-


iarly.
3. Or'ches-tra; n. a body of mu-
sicians. 10. De-ject'ed; v. discouraged;
3. Com-po-sVtions n. musical low-spirited.
;

pieces. 10. Strewn; v. scattered.

It will be recollected, that those definitions are given, which


are appropriate in the connection in which the word is used.


LITTLE VICTORIES.
Remark. In conversational pieces like the following, the man-
ner of each speaker should be imitated, as in a dialogue.

Articulate the letter d. Do not say roun for round; foun for
found; mfifye for mind ; mile for mile?; hun-reds for hun-dreds;
han for hand; tole for told; an for and; fon for fond; a-shame for
a-sham’d.
Articulate the t Do not say loss for los?; burs for burs?;
juss for jus?; great-es for great-es?; loud-es for loud-es?.

1. “O, mother, now that I have lost my limb, I can

never be a soldier or a sailor I can never go round the ;

world!” And Hugh burst into tears, now more really


+ afflicted than he had ever been yet. His mother sat on
the bed beside him, and wiped away his tears as they
flowed, while he told her, as well as his sobs would let
him, how long and how much he had reckoned on going
round the world, and how little he cared for any thing
else in future; and now this was the very thing he
should never be able to do !

2. He had practiced climbing ever since he could

remember, and now this was of no use he had + prac- ;

ticed marching, and now he should never march again.


When he had finished his complaint, there was a pause,
and his mother said,
“Hugh, you have heard of Huber?”
;

54 NEW FIFTH READER.


“The man who found out so much about bees?” said
Hug’h.
“Bees and ants. When Huber had discovered more
than had ever been known about these, and when he
was sure that he could learn still more, and was more
and more anxious to peep into their tiny homes, and
curious ways, he became blind.”
3. Hugh sighed, and his mother went on.

“Did you ever hear of Beethoven? He was one of


the greatest + musical His
composers that ever
lived.
great, his sole delight, was was the passion
in music. It
of his life. When all his time and all his mind were
given to music, he suddenly became deaf, perfectly deaf
so that he never more heard one single note from the
loudest orchestra. While crowds were moved and de-
lighted with his compositions, it was all silence to him.”
Hugh said nothing.
4. “How do you think,” asked his mother and —
Hugh saw that a mild and gentle smile + beamed from

her countenance “ do you think that these people were
without a Heavenly Parent ?”
“ O no but were they patient ?” asked Hugh.
!

“Yes, in their different ways and + degrees. Would


you suppose that they were hardly treated ? Or would
you not rather suppose that their Father gave them
something better to do, than they had planned for them-
selves ?”
5. “ He must know best, of course but it does seem
;

very hard, that that very thing should happen to them.


Huber would not have so much minded being deaf, per-
haps or that musical man being blind.”
;
/
“Ho doubt their hearts often swelled within them, at
their '^disappointments but I fully believe that they
;

very soon found God’s will to be wiser than their wishes.


They found, if they bore their trial well, that there was
work for their hearts to do, far nobler than any the
head could do thr ough the eye, or the ear. And they
soon felt a new and delicious pleasure, which none but
the bitterly disappointed can feel.”

“ What is that?
ECLECTIC SERIES. 55

6. The pleasure of rousing the soul to hear pain, and


of agreeing with God silently, when nobody knows what


is in the breast. There is no pleasure like that of +exer-
eising one’s soul in bearing pain, and of finding one’s
heart glow with the hope that one is pleasing God.”

“ Shall I feel, that pleasure ?
“Often and have no doubt: every time you
often, I
can willingly give up your wish to be a soldier or a
sailor, or any thing else you have set your mind upon,
you will feel that pleasure. But I do not expect it of
you yet. I dare. say, it was long a bitter thing to Beet-
hoven to see hundreds of people in raptures with his
music, when he could not hear a note of it.”

7. But did he ever smile again ? ” asked Hugh.



“ If he did, he was happier than all the fine music in

the world could have made him,” replied his mother.


“I wonder, O, I wonder, if I shall ever feel so!”
“We will pray to God that you may. Shall we ask
him now ? ”
Hugh clasped his hands. His mother kneeled beside
the bed, and, in a very few words, prayed that Hugh
might be able to bear his + misfortune well, and that his
friends might give him such help and comfort as God
should approve.
8. Hugh found himself subject to very painful feel-

ings sometimes, such as no one quite understood, and


such as he feared -no one was able to pity as they de-
served. On one "^occasion, when he had been quite
merry for awhile, and his mother and Agnes were
sister
chatting, they thought they heard a sob from the sofa.
They spoke to Hugh, and found that he was indeed cry-
ing bitterly.
“What is it, my dear?” said his mother. “Agnes,
have we said any thing that could hurt his feelings.”
“Ho, no,” sobbed Hugh. “ I will tell you presently.”
9. And presently he told them, that he was so busy

listening to what they said, that he forgot every thing


else, when he felt as if something got between two of
his toes; + unconsciously he put down his hand, as if his
foot was there Nothing could be plainer than, the
!
56 NEW FIFTH READER.
feeling in his' toes and, then, when he put out his hand,
;

and found nothing, it was so terrible it startled him so. !

It was a comfort to find that his mother knew about


this. She came, and kneeled by his sofa, and told him
that many persons who had lost a limb, considered this
the most painful thing they had to bear, for some time;
but that, though the feeling would return occasionally
through life, it would cease to be painful.
10. Hugh was very much dejected, and when he
thought of the months and years, to the end of his life,
and that he should never run and play, and never be
like other people, he almost wished that he was dead.
Agnes thought that he must be '^miserable indeed,
if he could venture to say this to his mother. She
glanced at her mother’s face, but there was no + dis-
pleasure there. On the contrary, she said this feel-
ing was very natural. She had felt it herself, under
smaller misfortunes than Hugh’s; but she had found,
though the prospect appears all strewn with troubles,
that they come singly, and are not so hard to bear,
after all.

11. She told Hugh, that when she was a little girl,
she was very lazy, fond of her bed, ^fnd not at all fond
of dressing or washing.
“ Why, mother you ? ” exclaimed Hugh. .
!

“ Yes; that was the sort of little girl I was. Well, I


was in + despair, one day, at the thought that I should
have to wash and clean my teeth, and brush my hair,
and put on every article of dress, every morning as long
as I lived.”
“ Did you tell any body ? ” asked Hugh.
12. “ Ho ;
I was ashamed to do that but ;
I remember
I cried. You see how it turns out. When we have be-
come + accustomed to any thing, we do it without ever
thinking of the trouble, and, as the old fable tells us, the
clock, that has to tick so many millions of times, has
exactly, the same number of seconds to do it in. So will
you find, that you can move about on each ^separate
occasion, as you wish, and practice will enable you to do
it without any trouble or thought.”
ECLECTIC SERIES. 57

“But this is not all, nor half what I mean,” said


Hugh.
13. “No, my dear, nor half what you will have to
bear. Yon resolved to bear it all + patiently, I remem-
ber. But what is it you dread the most ? ”
“ O all manner of things.
! I can never do like other
people.”
“ Some things,” replied his mother. “You can never
play cricket, as every Crofton boy would like to do.
You can never dance at your sister’s Christmas parties.”
14. “ O mamma ” cried Agnes, with tears in her
!

eyes, and with the thought in her mind, that it was


cruel to talk so.
“Go on Go on ” cried Hugh, brightening.
! !
“ You
know what I feel, mother; and you don’t keep telling
me, as others do, and even sister Agnes, sometimes, that
it will not '^signify much, and that I shall not care, and

all that making out that it is no misfortune, hardly,


;

when I know what it is, and they don’t. N6\v then, go


on, mother What else ? ”
!

15. “ There will be little checks and ^-mortifications


^continually, when you see little boys leaping over this,
and climbing that, and playing at the other, while you
must stand out, and can only look on. And some people
will pity you, in a way you will not like: and some
may even laugh at you.”
“O mamma ” exclaimed Agnes.
!

“Well, and what else?” said Hugh.


16. “Sooner or later, you will have to follow some
way of determined by this + accident, instead of one
life

that you would have liked better.”


“Well, what else ? ”
“ I must ask you, now. I can think of nothing more;
and I hope there is not much else; for, indeed, I think
here is quite enough for a boy, or any one else, to bear.”
“ I will bear it though you will see.”
;

17. “You will find great helps. These misfortunes,


of themselves strengthen one’s mind. They have some
+ advantages, too. You will be a better scholar for your
lameness, I have no doubt; You will read more books,
.

58 NEW FIFTH READER.


and have a mind richer in thoughts. You will be more
beloved by us all, and you yourself will love G-od more
for having given you something to bear for his sake.
God himself will help you to bear your trials. You will
conquer your troubles one by one, and by a + succession
of little +VICTORIES, will, at last, completely triumph
over all.”
Exercises . —What was the matter with Hugh? What plan for
the future did this misfortune interfere with? Whom did his mother
mention as having been similarly situated ? How was Huber disap-
pointed? How was Beethoven disappointed? From whom come our
disappointments? Are they intended for our good? How should we
feel under them? How did Hugh’s mother comfort him? What did
Hugh determine to do?
In the last sentence, which words are in the objective case? What
two verbs are in the future tense? Which are the pronouns? Which
are the prepositions? In the 14th paragraph, what interjection is
there? Point out three nouns in this paragraph? What does the
word noun mean? See Pinneo’s Primary Grammar, page 9, Art. 2.

EXERCISE V.
The bricks were thoroughly dried. Crack'd ,
crinkl d crayon
They drank of the 'purling brook. Grand crags arose towering on
every side.

LESSON VIII.

1. Grieved; v. given pain to. 1 2. Sprightly; adj. lively.

1. Gush'ing; adj. flowing freely. 2. De-cay^d;' v. faded.


1. Re-liev /cd; v. freed from pain, j
3. Be-tide '; /
v. may happen to.

MY MOTHER. >
Pronounce the following words in this lesson correctly. Do nol
say stray-in for stray-in#; pray-in for pray-in#; gush-in for gush-
ing; whisker-in for whis-per-in# ;
lean-in for lean-in?/; mean-in for
mean-in#; sick-niss for sick-ness.

1. Often into folly + straying,


O, my mother ! how I ’ve grieved her !

Oft I’ve heard her for me praying,


Till the gushing tears relieved her;
B— ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 50

And she gently rose and smiled,


Whispering, “God will keep my child.”

2. She was yonthful then, and sprightly,


Fondly on my father leaning,
Sweet she spoke, her eyes shone + brightly,
And her words were full of meaning
Now, an Autumn leaf decayed,
I, perhaps, have made it + fade.
|

3. But, whatever ills betide thee',


v
Mother', in them all I share ;

In thy sickness watch beside thee,


And beside thee kneel in prayer.
Best of mothers'! on my breast
Lean thy head, and sink to rest.
Exercises. What does the writer say of his mother? What
would he do to repay her?

LESSON IX.
\ -

1. In'tri-ca-cy; n. the state of 5. Asp'en; n. a species of poplar,


being entangled. $ whose leaves move with the
1. Ap-pre-hen'sion n. the power
; ]
slightest impulse of the air.
of thinking and understand- \
9. State'ei-ness ;
n. majestic ap-
ing. £ pearance.
3. Va'cant-ly; adv. without think- <; 9. Domes; n. buildings; houses,
ing of, or noticing. / 10. Rev'el-ry n. noisy gayety.
;

AN END OF ALL PERFECTION. G


Remark. — e careful to articulate such little words as the, of, a,

in, from, at, hy, and, to, with ,


as, for, very distinctly; and yet not dwell
on them so long as on other more important words.

Articulate distinctly and pronounce correctly. Do not say


an for ana?; uf for of; lifs for lifts; dif cul-ty for dif-ft’-cul-ty ;
hass
for lias<; beau-ti-f'l for beau-ti-fwl; joy-fly for joy-fwl-ly; va-fa-ble
for va-n-a-ble; fiels for fielc/s; com-plavnce for com-plainfe.

1. I have seen man in the glory of his days, and the


pride of his strength. He was built like the tall cedar
60 NEW FIFTH READER.
v
that lifts its head above the forest-trees like the strong ;

oak that strikes its root deeply into the earth v He .

feared no danger v he felt no sickness'; he wondered


;

that any should groan or sigh at pain'. His mind was


vigorous, like his body' he was tperplexed at no intri-
;

cacy he was daunted at no difficulty'


;
into hidden ;

things he searched'; and what was crooked he made


straight^.
2. He went forth fearlessly upon the face of the

mighty deep he + surveyed the nations of the earth


;

he measured the distances of the stars, and called them


by their names he gloried in the extent of his knowl-
;

edge, in the vigor of his understanding, and strove to


search even into what the Almighty had concealed.
And when I looked on him, I said, “ What a piece of
work is man' ! how noble in reason' ! how infinite in
^faculties' ! form and moving how express and admi-
in
rableM in 'action how like an angel in apprehension
!


how like a God !

3. his look was no more lofty, nor his


I returned ;

step proud broken frame was like some ruined


;
his
tower; his hairs were white and scattered; and his eye
gazed vacantly upon what was passing around him.
The + vigor of his intellect was wasted, and of all that
he had gained by study, nothing remained. He feared
when there was no danger, and when there was no sor-
row he wept. His memory was decayed and treacher-
ous, and showed him only broken images of the glory
that was departed.
4. His house to him was like a strange land, and his

friends were counted as his enemies and he thought ;

himself strong and healthful, while his foot tottered on


the + verge of the grave. He said of his son, “ He is my
brother';” of his daughter', “I know her not';” and
he inquired what was his own name. And one who
supported his last steps, and ministered to his many
wants, said to me, as I looked on the melancholy scene,
“Let thine heart receive instruction, for thou hast seen
an end of all earthly perfection.”
5. I have seen a beautiful female treading the first
ECLECTIC SERIES. 61

stages of youth, and entering joyfully into the pleasures


of life. The glance of her eye was + variable and sweet,
and on her cheek trembled something like the first
blush of the morning; her lips moved, and there was
harmony; and when she + floated in the dance, her light
form, like the aspen, seemed to move with every breeze.
I returned, but she was not in the dance; I sought
her in the gay circle of her companions, but found her
not.
6. Her eye sparkled not there; the music of her
voice was she rejoiced on earth no more. I saw
silent ;

a train, sable and slow-paced, who bore sadly to an ojDen


grave what once was animated and beautiful. They
paused as they approached, and a voice broke the awful
silence: “Mingle ashes with ashes, and dust with its.
original dust. To the earth whence it was taken, + con-

signwe the body of our sister.” They covered her with


the damp soil and the clods of the valley; and the
worms crowded into her silent abode. Yet one sad
mourner upon the grave; and
^'lingered to cast himself
as he wept, he said, “There
no beauty, nor grace, nor
is

loveliness, that continueth in man; for this is the end


of all his glory and perfection.”
7. I have seen an infant with a fair brow, and a

frame like polished + ivory. Its limbs were pliant in its


sports; it rejoiced, and again it wept; but whether its
glowing cheek dimpled with smiles, or its blue eye was
brilliant with tears, still I said to my heart, “It is beau-
tiful.” It was like the first pure blossom, which some
cherished plant had shot forth, whose cup is filled with
a dew-drop, and whose head reclines upon its parent
.

—~
stem.
8. I again saw when the lamp of reason
this child,
first dawned inmind. itsIts soul was gentle and
peaceful; its eye sparkled with joy, as it looked round
on this good and pleasant world. It ran swiftly in the
ways of knowledge; it bowed its ear to instruction; it
stood like a lamb before its teachers. It was not proud,
nor envious, nor + stubborn; and it had never heard of
the vices and ^vanities of the world. And when I looked
— s
;

62 NEW FIFTH HEADER.


upon I remembered that our Savior had said, “Ex-
it,

cept ye become as little children, ye can not enter into


the kingdom of heaven.”
9. But the scene was changed, and I saw a man

whom the world called honorable, and many waited for


his smile. They pointed out the fields that were his,
and talked of the silver and gold that he had gathered
they admired the stateliness of his domes, and + extolled
the honor of his family. And his heart answered secret-
ly, “By my wisdom have I gotten all this;” so he re-
turned no thanks to G-od, neither did he fear nor serve
him.
10. And as I passed along, I heard the complaints of
the laborers who, /bad reaped down his fields, and the
cries of the poor, whose covering he had taken away;
but the sound of feasting and revelry was in his apart-
ments, and the unfed beggar came tottering from his
door. But he considered not, that the cries of the
f oppressed were continually entering into the ears of

the Most High. And when I knew that this man was
once the '^teachable child, that I had loved, the beautiful
infant that I had gazed upon with delight, I said in my
bitterness, “I have seen an end of all perfection;” and
I laid my mouth in the dust.

Exercises. man spoken of in his glory. What


Describe the
change took place? What becomes of beauty as time passes? What
becomes of the docility and loveliness of childhood? What does all
this teach us ? Where shall we find unchangeable perfection ?
Explain the inflections marked, and, also, those of the 6th, 7th, and
8 th paragraphs.

EXERCISE VI.

We constructed an arc and began the 'problem.


,
The surf beat
heavily. Arm! warriors arm,
!Return to thy dwelling, all lonely
return. Weave the warp ,
and weave the woof. Send me Smith!
Thucydides. Thou tear st my heart asunder. I give my hand and
,

heart too ,
to this vote.

The Teacher reminded that the pupil should not neglect, before
is

difficult word by its elements utter-


reading the sentences, to spell each ,

ing two or more consonants which come together as a single sound.


;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 63

LESSON X.

5. Subfile; adj. thin; delicate. 6. Wii/y; adj. cunning; sly.


|

5. Crest; n. a tuft or ornament £


7. Coun'sel-or; n. one who gives
worn on the head. \
advice.

THE SPIDER AND THE FLY.— A Fable.

Pronounce correctly. Do not say put-ti-est (pro. prit-ti-est) for

pret-ti-est; crea-ture nor crit-ter , (pro. creat-yure) for creat-ure;


ful-lish for fool-isli; ferss-ty for fierce-ly.

1. “Will you walk into my + parlor'?” said a spider to a fly


“ ’Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy.

The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,

And I have many pretty things to show when you are there.”
“0 no v no v ,” said the little fly, “to ask me is in vain,
,

For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down
again.”

2. “I’m you must be weary v with + soaring up so high;


sure
Will you rest uponmy little bed?” said the spider to the fly;
“There are pretty curtains drawn around v the sheets are ,

fine and thin v ,

And if you like to rest awhile', I’ll snugly tuck you in v .”


“0 no v no v ,” said the little fly, “for I ’ve often heard it said,
,

They never never ivalce again, who sleep upon your bed.”
,

3. Said the cunning spider to the fly, “Dear friend', what


shall I do v ,

To prove the warm + affection I’ve always felt for you?


I have within my pantry, good store of all that’s nice;
I ’m Sure you ’re very welcome will you please to take a slice/?”
;

“0 no v no v ” said the little fly v “ kind sir', that can notbe v


,
!
, ;

I’ve heard'' what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to seev .”

4. “ Sweet creature ” said the spider, “you ’re witty and you ’re
!

wisev ,

How handsome are your tgauzy wings v ,


how + brilliant are

your eyes v !
; — ;

64 NEW FIFTH READER.


I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf,
If you ’ll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself.”
“I thank v you, gentle sir',” she said, “for what you’re
pleased to say,
And bidding you good-morning now ', I’ll call another day.”

5. The spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly fly would soon be back again:
So he wove a subtile web, in a little corner, sly,
And set his table ready to dine upon the fly.
Then he went out to his door again, and ^merrily did sing,
“Come hither v hither v pretty fly', with the pearl and silver
, ,

wing:
Your robes are green and purple; there’s a crest upon your
head
Your eyes are like the + diamond bright, but mine are dull
as lead.”

6. Alas, alas ! how very soon this silly little fly,


Hearing his wily ^flattering words, came slowly flitting by,
With buzzhrg wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer
drew,
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue

Thinking only of her crested head poor foolish thing! Ajtlast,
Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast v .

7. He dragged her up his winding stair, into his + dismal den,


Within his little parlor; but she ne’er came out again!

And now, my dear young friends', who may this story read,
To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you, ne’er give heed;
Unto an evil counselor, close heart, and ear, and eye,
And take a lesson from the tale of the Spider and the Fly.

Exercises. Relate the conversation between the spider and


the AVhat motive did the cunning spider finally, appeal
fly. to, which
induced the fly to visit it? What became of the fly?

Why is the rising inflection used at “sir” in the 4th stanza? Why
at “fly” in the 5th? Why at “friends ”, in the 7th?

What are the nouns in the last line? The verb? The adjectives
or articles? See Pinneo’s Primary Grammar, pp. 19 and 20.
!

ECLECTIC SERIES. 65

EXERCISE VII.
My Uncle Toby was racked with pain. Bock' d with whirlwinds.
Victory will weaken the enemy. Think' st thou so meanly of me?
On the Biver Elbe. We saw the Elk. And he cried hold, hold ,

hold The wolf whose howl's his watch. Falln, fall'n ,


fall'n ,

from his high estate. There was no help for it. He


falln, falln
watcKd and wept, he felt and prayed for all. It was a willfully
false account.

LESSON XI.

Im-pos /tor; n. one who de- 12. Ar-ti-fi'cial; adj. not genu-
ceives. ine.
LAN^uiSH-en; v. suffered. 22. E-lec'tric-al; adj. contain-
A-ver/sion; n. dislike. ing electricity. [will.

Con-ster-na'tion n. terror.

/
;


DO NOT MEDDLE.
24. Leg'a-cy; n. something left by

Pronounce the words in this lesson correctly. Do not say


be-nev'lunce for be-nev-o-lence; as-sist-unce for as-sist-ance ;
im-pos-
ter for im-pos-tor; pear-unce for ap-pear-ance; b' long for be-long;
hast'ly for has-L'-ly; cun-cealed for con-cealed; im-per-dunce for im-
pu-dence.

1. About twenty years ago, there lived a + singular


3.
gentleman in the Old Hall among the elm-trees. He
was about three-score years of age, very rich, and some-
what odd in many of his habits, but for + generosity and
+ benevolence he had no equal.

2. Ho poor + cottager stood in need of comforts which

he was not ready to supply; no sick man or woman


languished for want of his + assistance; and not even a
beggar, unless a known impostor, went empty-handed
from the Hall.
The sick he + soothed, the hungry fed,
B,ade care and sorrow fly,

And loved to raise the downcast head


. Of friendless poverty;

How
happened that the old gentleman wanted
it

a boy to wait upon him at table, and to attend him in


66 NEW FIFTH READER.
different ways, for he was very fond of young people.
But much as he liked the tsociety of the young, he had
a great aversion to that ^curiosity in which many young
j>eople are apt to indulge. He used to say, “The hoy
who will peep into a drawer, will be tempted to take
something out of it; and he who will steal a penny in
his youth, will steal a pound in his manhood.”
4. Ho sooner was it known that the old gentleman

was in want of a boy, than twenty + applications were


made for the situation; but he determined not to engage
any one, until he had in some way + ascertained that he
did not possess a curious, prying + disposition.
5. On Monday morning, seven lads, dressed in their

Sunday clothes, with bright and happy faces, made


their appearance at the Hall, each of them desiring
to obtain the situation. How the old gentleman, being
of a singular disposition, had prepared a room in such a
way, that he might easily know if any of the young
people who applied, were given to meddle + unnecessarily
with things around them, or to peep into cupboards and
drawers. He took care that the lads who were then at
Elm-Tree Hall, should be shown into this' room one after
another.
6. And first, Charles Brown was sent into the room,

and told that he would have to wait a little. So Charles


sat down on a chair near the door. For some time he
was very quiet and looked about him but there seemed
;

to be so many curious things in the room, that at last,


he got up to peep at them.
7. On
the table was placed a dish cover, and Charles
wanted sadly to know what was under it, but he felt
afraid of lifting it up. Bad habits are strong things;
and as Charles was of a curious disposition, he could
not withstand the + temptation of taking one peep. So
he lifted up the cover.
8. This turned out to be a sad
+ affair; for under the

dish cover was a heap of very light feathers; part of the


feathers, drawn up by a ’'current of air, flew about the
room, and Charles, in his fright, putting down the cover
hastily, puffed the rest of them off the table.
ECLECTIC SERIES. 67
9.

Wliat was to be done? Charles began to pick np


the feathers one by one; but the old gentleman, who
was in an + adjoining room, hearing a + scuffle, and guess-
ing the cause of it, entered the room, to the consterna-
tion of Charles Brown, who was very soon dismissed, as
a boy who had not + principl.e enough to resist even a
slight temptation.
10. When the room was once more arranged, Henry
Wilkins was placed there, until such time as he should
be sent for. Ho sooner was he left to himself, than his
attentionwas attracted by a plate of fine, ripe cherries.
How Henry was uncommonly fond of cherries, and he
thought it would be impossible to miss one cherry
among so many. He looked and longed, and longed
and looked, for some time, and just as he had got off
his seat to take one, he heard, as he thought, a foot
coming to the door; but no, it was a false alarm.
11. Taking fresh courage, he went + cautiously and
took a very fine cherry, for he was determined to take
but one, and put it into his mouth. It was excellent;
and then he persuaded himself that he ran no risk in
taking another; this he did, and hastily popped it into
his mouth.
12. How, the old gentleman had placed a few artificial
cherries at the top of the others, filled with ^cayenne
pepper; one of these Henry had unfortunately taken,
and it made his mouth smart and burn most intolerably.
The old gentleman heard him coughing, and knew very
well what was the matter. The boy that would take
what did not belong to him, if no more than a cherry,
was not the boy for him. Henry Wilkins was sent
about his business without delay, with his mouth almost
as hot, as if he had put a burning coal into it.
13. Rufus Wilson was next introduced into the room,
and left to himself; but he had not been there ten min-
utes, before he began to move from one place to another.
He was of a bold resolute temper, but not overburdened
with principle, for if he could have opened every cup-
board, closet, and drawer in the house, without being
found out, he would have done it directly.
5th Rd. a.
68 NEW FIFTH READER.
14.Having looked around the room, he noticed a
drawer to the table, and made up his mind to peep
therein. But no sooner did he lay hold of the drawer
knob, than he set a large bell ringing, which was con-
cealed under the table. The old gentleman immediately
answered the summons, and entered the room.
15. Rufus was so startled by the sudden ringing of the
bell,that all his impudence could not support him. He
looked as though any one might knock him down with
a feather. The old gentleman asked him if he had rung
the bell because he wanted any thing. Rufus was much
confused, and stammered, and, tried to excuse himself,
but all to no purpose, for it did not prevent him from
being ordered off the premises.
16. George Jones was then shown into the room by an
old steward ;
and being of a cautious disposition, he
touched nothing, but only looked at the things about
him. At last he saw that a closet door was a little open,
and thinking it would be impossible for any one to know
that he had opened it a little more, he very cautiously
opened it an inch farther, looking down at the bottom
of the door, that it might not catch against any thing,
and make a noise.
17. Howhad he looked at the top instead of the bot-
tom, it might have been better for him, for to the top
of the door was fastened a plug which tilled up the hole
of a small barrel of shot. He ventured to open the
door another inch, and then another, till the plug being
pulled out of the barrel, the leaden shot began to pour
out at a strange rate; at the bottom of the closet was
placed a tin pan, and the shot falling upon this pan
made such a clatter, that George was frightened half out
of his senses.
18. The old gentleman soon came into the room to in-
quire what was the matter, and there he found George
nearly as pale as a sheet. George was soon dismissed.
19. It now came the turn of Albert Jenkins to be put
into the room. The other boys had been sent to their
homes by different ways, and no one knew what the ex-
perience of the other had been in the room of trial.
ECLECTIC SERIES. 69

20. On the table


stood a small round box, with a screw
top to it, and Albert thinking it contained something
curious, could not be easy without unscrewing the top,
but no sooner did he do this,- than out bounced an arti-
ficial fell upon his arm.
snake, full a yard long, and He
started back, and uttered a scream, which brought the
old gentleman to “his elbow. There stood Albert, with
the bottom of the box in one hand, the top in the other,
and the snake on the floor.
21. “Come, come,” said the old gentleman, “one snake
is quite enough to have in the house at a time there- ;

fore, the sooner you are gone the better.” With that
he dismissed him, without waiting a moment for his
reply.
22. William Smith next entered the room, and being
left alone, soon began to amuse himself in looking at the
curiosities around him. William was not only curious
and prying, but dishonest too, and observing that the
key was left in the drawer of a book-case, he stepped on
tiptoe in that direction. The key had a wire fastened to
it, which communicated with an electrical machine, and

William received such a shock as he was not likely to


forget. Ho sooner did he sufficiently recover himself to
walk, than he was told to leave the house, and let other
people lock and unlock their own drawers.
23. The other boy was Harry Gordon, and though he
was left-in the room full twenty minutes, he never during
that time, stirred from his chair. Harry had eyes in his
head as well as the others, but he had more integrity in
his heart; neither the dish cover, the cherries, the
drawer knob, the .closet door, the round box, nor the
key, tempted him to rise from his seat and the conse-
;

quence was, that, in half an hour after, he was engaged


in the service of the old gentleman at Elm-Tree Hall.
24. Harry Gordon followed his good old master to his
grave', and received a large legacy for his upright con-
duct in his service'. Head this, ye busy, meddling,
peeping, pilfering young people", and imitate the ex-
ample of Harry Gordon'.
Exercise .—Explain the inflections in the last paragraph.
70 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON
A
XII.

2. Po-lite / ness; n. good breeding. '/


G. Pack; n. a collection.
2. Perch; n. a place to roost., < 8. Ours; n. a name for dogs.

THE CHICKEN-COCK AND THE FOX.


Pronounce correctly the following words in this lesson. Do
not say plite-ness for po-lite-ness ;
set-ting for sit-ting ;
wen-ev-er for
w/ien-ev-er ;
ear-nes-ly for ear-nesi-ly; houns for hounds.'

1. A
young chicken-cock, that was sitting upon the
branch of a tree, crowed so loud, that a fox which
chanced to be passing by, heard him. So he went up to
him and said, “ How do you do, my dear friend? I have
not seen you for an age.”
2. “Thank you for your politeness, sir,” said the

cock. “X am as well as usual.” “X am delighted to


hear it,” said the “Pray come down from that high
fox,.,

perch, so that I may see you closer, and admire your


beautiful feathers.”
3. “Ho, I am much obliged to you,” said the cock;

“that will not do, for I have heard my old father say,
that a fox is very fond of the flesh of a cock, and will
eat him whenever he gets a chance. So, if you please,
I will stay where I am.”
4. “Pshaw, + pshaw, child,” said the sly thief; “give

me leave to tell you that your sire is an old fool, and


does not speak a word of truth, for I know that all the
beasts and birds are now at + peace; therefore you need
not mind that, but fly down and see me.”
5. “ Is this all true? ” said the cock. “ I am very glad

to hear it, I am sure.” And saying this, he + stretched


out his neck as far as he could, as if he saw something a
great way off.
6. “What do you see, my dear friend, that you look
out so '’’earnestly ? ” said the fox. “O, nothing at all,”
said the cock, “only a pack of hounds, that seem to be
;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 71

running a race. It is a fine sight. Look, look, they are


coming this way.”
7. “Dear me,” said, the fox; “coming this way?
Then it is high time to be gone.” “Gone!” said the
cock; “why should you go? What danger can there

be to a fox in meeting hounds in time of peace?
8. “Yes,” cried the fox, “all you say is true; but it is
9.
ten to one that these vile curs have not yet heard of the
peace; therefore I must run as fast as I can to get out
of the way.”
MORAL.
This story shows us, that when a known + enemy
wishes to seem a friend, there is most cause for us to
keep out of his reach and also that + shame is likely to
;

follow falsehood.
Exercises . —Relate the conversation between the chicken and
the fox. To what did the cock direct the fox’s attention, and what
did the fox say and do? What is the moral of this fable?

LESSON XIII

2. In-ex-haust'i-ble ;
adj. unfail- ships.

2. Budget; n. bag; a little sack.

THE BARBER.
Pronounce correctly. Do not say stems for stands: vil-lij for
vil-lage; ven-ter for vent-ure; yit for yet; wile for w/iile.

1. There stands a shrewd barber, with razor and pan,


Both talking and shaving as fast as he can
No man in the + village has got more to say,
Of weather and wind, and the news of the day.
2. No sooner has gentleman taken his seat,
Well covered with ''napkin, spread over him neat,
Than barber begins (not a moment to lose)
With his most inexhaustible budget of news.
!

72 NEW FIFTH HEADER.


3. “A very fine day, sir; but yet, if I’m right,
We shall + certainly have some rain before night.
And so, sir, they say the French fleet is at sea;
For my part they can not impose upon me.

4. “If ever they venture at England to call,


Why, I know nothing about it, that’s all.
Come, Bob! is the gentleman’s wig nearly done?
Why, I could do twenty, while you’re doing one;
You arc talking too fast to know what you are at;
I hate to see people so full of their chat

5.
“ ’T is those who
little that do their work best:
say
No, no, sir, has not got out of Brest.”
the fleet
“Very well, Mr. Barber, what have I to pay? ”
“Only sixpence, sir; thank you, sir; wish you good
day!”
Exercise . —What was the barber himself famous for, and for
what did he reprove his workman ?

LESSON XI Y.

1. Fag'ots; n. bundles of sticks l 7. Com-pli-c a'tion ;


n. the act of
used for fuel. \ mingling together several
1. Prat'tle; n. trifling talk. < things.
1. Dis'si-pate; v. to scatter; to ? 7. Sym'pa-tiiies ;
n. compassion. .

disperse.
|
9. Gushed; v. flowed copiously.
2. Pu'xy; adj. small and weak. $ 9. Man'na; n. food miraculously
4. Pii/grim-age ;
n. the journey provided by God for the Is-
j

of human life. < raelites.

THE RIGHTEOUS NEVER FORSAKEN.


Remark. — As each one reads, let each scholar in the class men-

tion every syllable that is pronounced wrong, and correct it.


Utter the final g distinctly in the following words in this lesson :

blazing, endeavoring, listening, wasting, surrounding, gathering,


driving, neighboring, herring, swellings, tidings, ministering, de-
fending, frowning, barking, continuing, giving, darling, springing.

1. It was Saturday night, and the widow of the Pine

Cottage sat by her blazing fagots, with her five tattered


EGLECTIC SERIES. 73

children at her side, endeavoring by listening to the


+ artlessness
of their prattle, to dissipate the heavy
gloom that pressed upon her mind. For a year, her
own feeblehand had provided for her helpless family,
for she had no supporter: she thought of no friend in
+
all the wide, unfriendly world around.
2. But that ^mysterious Providence, the wisdom of

whose ways is above human comprehension, had visited


her with wasting sickness, and her little means had
become + exhausted. It was now, too, midwinter, and
the snow lay heavy and deep through all the surround-
ing forests, while storms still seemed gathering in the
heavens, and the driving wind roared amid the neigh-
boring pines, and rocked her puny mansion.
3. The last herring smoked upon the coals before

her; it was the only article of food she possessed, and


no wonder her forlorn, + desolate state brought up in
her lone bosom all the + anxieties of a mother, when
she looked upon her children and no wonder, forlorn
:

as she was, if she suffered the heart swellings of despair


to rise, even though she knew that He, whose promise
is to the widow and to the orphan, can not forget his
word.
4.
+ Providence had, many years before, taken from

her her eldest son, who went from his forest home to
try his fortune on the high seas, since which she had
heard no tidings of him and, in her latter time, had, by
;

the hand of death, deprived her of the companion and


staff of her earthly pilgrimage, in the person of her
husband. Yet to this hour she had upborne; she had
not only been able to provide for her little flock, but
had never lost an '^opportunity of + ministering to the
wants of the miserable and- destitute.
5. The + indolent may well bear with poverty, while

the ability to gain sustenance remains. The individual


who has but his own wants to supply, may suffer with
fortitude the winter of want his affections are not
;

wounded, his heart not wrung. The most desolate in


+ populous cities may hope, for charity
has not quite
closed her hand and heart, and shut her eyes on misery.
74 NEW FIFTH READER.
6. But the + industrious
mother of helpless and de-
pending children, from the reach of human charity,
far
has none of these to '’console her. And such a one was
the widow of the Pine Cottage; hut as she bent over
the fire, and took up the last scanty '’remnant of food,
to spread before her children, her spirits seemed to
brighten up, as by some sudden and mysterious im-
pulse, and Cowper’s beautiful lines came uncalled acyoss
v

her mind :

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,


But trust him for his grace;
Behind a frowning Providence
He hides a smiling face.

7. The smoked herring was scarcely laid upon the


table, when a gentle rap at the door, and loud barking
of a dog, attracted the attention of the family. The
children flew to open it, and a weary traveler, in tattered
garments, and ''apparently indifferent health, entered,
and begged a lodging and a mouthful of food. Said he,
“It is now
twenty-four hours since I tasted bread.”
The widow's heart bled anew as under a fresh complica-
tion of distresses for her sympathies + lingered not
;

around her fireside. \ She hesitated not even now; rest


and a share of all she had she proffered to the stranger..
“We shall not be forsaken,” said she, “or suffer deeper
for an act of charity.”
The traveler drew near the board, but when he
8.

saw the scanty fare, he raised his eyes toward heaven


with astonishment: “And is this all your store?” said
he, “and a share of this do you offer to one you know
not? then never saw I charity before! but, madam,” said
he, continuing, “do you not wrong your children by
giving a part of your last mouthful to a stranger?”
9. “Ah,” said the poor widow, and the tear-drops

gushed into her eyes as she said it, “I have a hoy a ,

darling son, somewhere on the face of the wide world,


unless heaven has taken him away, and I only act
toward you, as I would that, others should act toward
him. Grod, who sent manna from heaven, can provide
!

ECLECTIC SERIES. 75

for us ashe did for Israel and how should I this night
;

offend him, if my son should be a + wanderer, "^destitute


as you, and he should have provided for him a home,
even poor as this, were I to turn you unrelieved away.”
10. The widow ended, and the stranger springing
from his seat, clasped her in his arms: “God indeed has
provided your son a home, and has given him wealth to
reward the goodness of his + benefactress my mother :

oh my mother!” It was her long lost son, returned to


her bosom from the Indies. He had chosen that + dis-
guise that he might the more completely surprise his
family and never was surprise more perfect, or followed
;

by a sweater cup of joy.


11. That humble + residence in the forest was ex-
changed for one comfortable, and indeed beautiful, in
the valley; and the widow lived long with her dutiful
son, in the enjoyment of worldly plenty, and in the
delightful employments of virtue; and, at this day, the
passer-by is pointed to the willow that spreads its
branches above her grave.
Exercises . —Relate the history of the widow and her son. Can
evil ever come from being benevolent? Are there many in this
world really so poor as not to be able to do something for others?

LESSON IV.

1. Mar/vel-ous; adj. wonderful, i 2. Do-min'ion n. supreme power.


;

2. Or-dain^d; v. appointed; es- i 5. Ha/ven; n. a harbor; a place


tablished. \ where ships can lie in safety.

SELECT PARAGRAPHS.
Remark . —Be careful to read the last words of every sentence in
as full and loud a tone as the first part.

Articulate distinctly the h in the following words in this les-


son : his, holy, heart, hath, heaven, heartily, holiness, haven, head,
house.

1. O give thanks unto the Lord; call upon his name;


make known his deeds among the people. Sing unto
5th Rd. 7.
!

76 NEW FIFTH READER.


him ;
sing psalms unto him ;
talk ye of all his wondrous
works. Glory ye in his holy name; let the heart of
them rejoice that seek the Lord. Remember his mar-
velous works that he hath done his ^wonders, and the
;

judgments of his mouth.


2. O Lord, our Lord, how + excellent is thy name in

all the earth who hast set thy glory above the heavens.
!

When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers;


the moon and the stars which thou hast ordained; what
is man that thou art mindful of him? and the son of
man that thou visitest him ? For thou hast made him a
little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with
glory and honor. Thou madest him to have dominion
over the work of thy hands; thou hast put all things
under his feet. O Lord, our Lord, how excellent is thy
name in all the earth
3. I will say of the Lord, he is refuge and my my
fortress, my God ;
in him Because he hath
will I trust.
set his love upon me, therefore will I + deliver him:
I will set him on high, because he hath known my
name. He shall call upon me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him and
honor him. With long life will I satisfy him, and show
him my + salvation.

4. O
come, let us sing unto the Lord, let us heartily
rejoice in the strength of our salvation. Let us come
before his presence with thanksgiving, and show our-
selves glad in him with psHms. For the Lord is a
great God, and a great King above all gods. O worship
the Lord in the beauty of holiness; let the whole earth
stand in awe of him. For he cometh, for he cometh, to
judge the earth;! and with righteousness to judge the
world,; and the people with his truth.
5. O that men would praise the Lord for his good-

ness,, and for his wonderful works! to the children of


men! They that go down to the sea in ships, that do
business in great waters these see the works of the
;

Lord, and his wonders in the deep. For he command-


etli, and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the

waves thereof. They mount up to the heaven they go ,


ECLECTIC SERIES. 11

down again to the depths ;


their soul is melted because
of trouble;^ they reel 'to and fro, and ^stagger like a
drunken man, and are at their wit’s end. Then they
cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth
them out of their ^distresses. He maketh the storm a
calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they
glad because they are quiet so he bringeth them unto
their desired haven. O that men would praise the Lord
for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the
children of men ! .

6. The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want. He ;

maketh me to lie down in green pastures he leadeth :

me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul; he


leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s
sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the
+ shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with

me : thy rod and thy staff, they + conifort me. Thou


preparest a table before me in the presence of mine
enemies thou anointest my head with oil; my cup run-
;

neth over. Surely, goodness and mercy will follow me


all the days of my life and I shall dwell in the house
;

of the Lord forever.

Exercises What does God promise to one who makes Him his
.

refuge? What meant by “setting him on high?” Is the promise


is

of “satisfying him with long life,” fulfilled in this world? Who are
described in the 5th paragraph?
Which are the nouns in the last sentence? The verbs? The pro-
nouns? The adjectives? What is “the”? See Pinneo’s Primary
Grammar, page 19.

EXERCISE VIII.

We saw a large, dead fish floating. And he slew him. Every


mans house is his castle. This meteorous vapor is called, “ Will
o’ the wisp." I thrust three thousand thistles through the thick of
my thumb. Braid broad braids, my brave babes. We never-
served, but lost our swivel gun. Crazy Craycroft caught a crate
of crinclded crabs. Where is the crate of crinckled crabs that crazy
Craycroft caught ?
; :

78 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON

1. Fa-mii/iar ;
adj. well ac- 2. Suf-fo-ca'tion ;
n. choking;
quainted with. stifling of the breath.

1. Gab/ner ;
v. to lay up in 4. Va'cant; adj. empty.
store. 6. Verdant; adj. green; fresh.
2 . SuM^MON-eD; v. called to- 9. Freighted ;
v. loaded.
gether. 9. Sa'vor-y ;
adj. pleasing to the
2 . Be-quest'; n. something left smell.
by will. 9. Dis'cord; n. grating sounds.

THE DYING BOY.


Pronounce correctly. Do not say chile-hood for child-hood;
in-fan for in-fani; be-ques for be-quesi.

1. It must be sweet, in childhood, to give back


The spirit to its Maker ere the heart ;

Has grown familiar with the paths of sin,


And sown, to garner up its bitter fruits.
I knew a boy whose infant feet had trod
Upon the + blossoms of some seven springs,
And when the eighth came round, and called him out
To r^vol in its light, he turned away,
And sought his chamber, to lie down and die.
2. ’Twas night; he summoned his accustomed friends,
And on this wise + bestowed his last bequest:
“Mother, I’m dying now!
There ’s a deep suffocation in my breast,
As if some heavy hand my bosom pressed
And on my brow,
I feel the cold sweat stand
My lips grow dry and +trenlulous, and my breath
Comes feebly on. O tell me, is this death!!

3. “Mother, your hand,


Here, lay it on my wrist,
And place the other thus beneath my head,
And say, sweet mother, say, when I am dead,
! ; ! !

ECLECTIC SERIES. 79

Shall I be missed? c
Never beside your knee,
Shall I kneel down again at night to pray;
Nor with the morning wake, and sing the lay
You taught me.
££
4. 0, at the time of prayer,
When you look round, and see a vacant seat,
You will not wait then for my coming feet;
You’ll miss me there.
Father, I ’m going home
To the good home you spoke of, that blest land,
Where it is one bright summer always, and
Storms do never come.

5. I must he happy then,


££

From pain and death you say I shall he free,


That sickness never enters there, and we
Shall meet again.
Brother, the little spot
I used to call my garden, where long hours
W e’ ve stayed to watch the budding things and flowers,

Forget it not

6.
££
Plant there some box or pine,
Something that lives in winter, and will he
A verdant offering to my + memory,

And call it mine

7.
££
Sister, my young rose-tree,
That the spring has been my pleasant care,
all

Just putting forth its leaves so green and fair,


I give to thee
And when its rosCs bloom,
I shall he far away, my short life done;
But will you not bestow a single one
Upon my tomb?
8. “Now, mother, sing the tune
You sang last night. I ’m weary, and must sleep,
Who was it called my name? Nay, do not weep,
You’ll all come soon &P 1
I — ;

80 new fifth reader.


9. Morning spread over earth, her rosy wings,
And that meek '^sufferer, cold and ivory pale,
Lay on his + couch asleep. The gentle air
Came through the open window, freighted with
The savory odors of the early spring
He breathed it not; the laugh of passers-by
Jarred like a discord in some mournful tune,
But wakened not his slumber. He was dead.
Exercises. What is the subject of this piece? What is said
of childhood? What did the little boy exclaim as he addressed his
mother? What did he say to his father? What, to his brother?
What, to his sister? What was his last request of his mother? What
reason did he give, why they should not weep? What is it that will
enable us to triumph over death?

LESSON NYU.

1. An'nals; n. a history of 5. Gran'a-ries; n. corn-houses.


events. 6. Pro-pen'si-ties; n. bent of
1. Ei/o-quence; n. the power of mind; inclination.
speaking well. 7. Lavish; adj. profuse; waste-
4. Can'o-py; n. a -covering over ful.

head. 10. Su-per-flu'i-ties; 7i. some-


6. As-si-du'i-ty; n. close appli- thing beyond vihatis wanted.
cation; diligence. 10. Suc'cor; 7i. help; aid.

THE GENEROUS RUSSIAN PEASANT.


Remark. — f you meet with difficult words, or foi’eign names, do
not hasten over them, but read them distinctly.

Articulate clearly. Do not say cel' Irate for cel-e-brate; jlat-


t'ry for flat-ter-y; mis’ries for mis-er-ies ;
pon-d’rin for pon-der-iny ;
g enrol for gen-cr-al; clam' ty for ca-lam-f-ty; granries for gran-
a-ries.

1. Let Yirgil sing the praises of Augustus, genius


celebrate merit, and ^flattery extol the talents of the
great. The short and simple “annals of the poor” en-
gross my pen; and while I record the history of Flor
ECLECTIC SERIES. 81

though I speak of a poor peasant, I shall


Silin’s virtues,
describe a noble man. I ask no eloquence to assist me
in the task; modest worth rejects the aid of + ornament
to set it off.

2. even at this distant period, to re-


It is impossible,
without horror, on the miseries of that year, known
flect,

in Lower Wolga by the name of the “ famine year” 1


remember the summer, whose scorching heats had dried
up all the fields, and the drought had no relief but from
the tears of the ruined farmer.
3. I remember the cold, comfortless autumn, and the

despairing + rustics, crowding round their empty farms


with folded arms, and sorrowful countenances, *ponder-
ing on their misery, instead of rejoicing, as usual, at the
j

golden harvest. I remember the winter which succeeded,


and I reflect, with + agony, on the miseries it brought
with it. Whole families left their homes, to become
beggars on the highway.
4. At flight, the canopy of heaven served them as

their only shelter from the piercing winds and bitter


frost. To describe these scenes, would be to harm the
feelings of my readers therefore to my tale;/ In those
;

days I lived on an estate not far from Simbirsk;- and


though but a child, I have not forgotten the impression
made on my mind by the general '‘'calamity.
5. In a village adjoining, lived Flor Silin, a poor,

laboring peasant: a man remarkable for his assiduity,


and the skill and judgment with which he cultivated his
lands. He was blessed with f abundant crops; and his
means being larger than his wants, his granaries, even
at this time, were full of corn. The dry year coming
on, had beggared all the village, except himself. Here
was an opportunity to grow rich. Mark how Flor Silin
acted. Having called the poorest of his neighbors
about him, he addressed them in the following man-
ner.
6. “My friends, you want corn
for your subsistence.
God has blessed me
with abundance. Assist in thrash-
)

ing out a quantity, and each of you take what he wants


for his family.” The peasants were amazed at this un-

/

82 NEW FIFTH READER.
exampled generosity; for sordid propensities exist in
the village, as well as in the +popuious city.
7. The fame of Flor Silin’s benevolence having reached

othel* villages, the famished inhabitants presented them-


selves before him, and begged for corn. .
This good
creature received them as brothers and, while his store
;

remained, afforded all relief. At length, his wife, seeing


no end to the ^generosity of his noble spirit, reminded
him how necessary it would be to think of their own
wants, and hdfd his lavish hand, before it was too late.
“It is written in the Scripture,” s^id he, “Give, and it
shall be given unto you.”
8. The followingyear, Providence -listened to the
prayers of the poor, and the harvest was abundant.
The peasants who had been saved from starving by Flor
Silin, now gathered around him.
9. “Behold,” said they, “the corn you lent us. You
10. our wives and children.
saved We should have been
+ famished but for you may God reward you he only
; ;

can ;
all we have to give, is our corn and grateful
thanks.” “I want no corn at present, my good neigh-
bors,” said he; “my harvest has exceeded all my ex-
pectations for the rest, thank Heaven I have been but
;
:

an humble ^instrument.”
They urged him in vain. “Ho,” said he, “1
shall not accept your corn. If you have superfluities,
share them among your poor neighbors, who, being
unable to sow their fields last autumn, are still in want;
let us assist them, my dear friends; the Almighty will
bless us for it.” “Yes,” replied the grateful '’'peasants,
“our poor neighbors shall have this corn. They shall
know it is to you that they owe this timely succor, and
join to teach their children the debt of gratitude, due to
your + benevolent heart.” Silin raised his tearful eyes
to heaven. An angel might have envied him his feel-
ings.

Exercises. What was the famine spoken of in this lesson


occasioned by? Who was Flor Silin, and what did he do for his poor
neighbors? What did he say when a reward was offered him? What
should we learn by this example?
!

ECLECTIC SERIES. 88

LESSON XVIII.

1. Con-tesKtions; n. angry con- 6. Des-o-la'tion; n. ruin; de-


tests; quarrels. struction.
2. De-mc/ni-ac; n. one possessed 8. Con-so-la^tion ;
n. comfort
by a devil. 8. Phi-lai/thro-pist ;
n. one
4. Gen-er-a'tion ;
n. a race; the who loves his fellow-men.
people of the same period. 11. Ben-e-dic'tion ;
n. blessing.

4. De-bauch^d; adj. corrupted in 12. Pen-i-tej/tia-ry; n. a house


morals. where criminals are confined
5. Tenements; n. houses. to labor.

5. In-iier'it-ance ;
n. an estate 12. De-gen'er-a-cy; n. the state
received from parents. of growing worse.

TOUCH NOT—TASTE NOT— HANDLE NOT.


Remark . —When there are poetical quotations in prose pieces,
they should be read as if they were part of the same line, unless the
sense requires a pause.

Pronounce correctly. Do not say com-par-er-tive-ly for com-


par-a-tive-ly ;
fre-kwunt for fre-quent; tem-per-it-ly for tem-per-
ate-ly ;
scurce-ly for scarce-ly ;
ut-ter-unce for ut-ter-ance.

“Wine is a mocker, and strong drink is raging.


1.

Who hath woe? who hath sorrow? who hath conten-


i

tions? who hath babbling ? who hath wounds without i

a cause? .who hath redness of eyes? They that tarry


long at the wine.”
2. How often do men meet in good humor, then drink

to excess, talk nonsense, fancy themselves insulted, take


fire within, Have, threaten, and then come to blows? A
long time ago, Seneca spoke of those who “let in a thief
at the mouth to steal away the brains.” In such a case,
the stupidity of a brute is often united with the fury
of a deipo'niac. Hay, the man among the tombs was
'

"•comparatively harmless he only injured himself. But ;

how often does the drunken revel end in the cry of


murder
3. How often does the hand of the intoxicated man,
84 NEW FIFTH READER.
lifted against his dearest friend, perhaps the wife of his
bosom,

In one rash hour,
Perform a deed that haunts him to the grave!’

4. Could I call around me, in one vast assembly, the


young men of this nation, I would say: Hopes of my
country, blessed be ye of the Lord, now in the dew of
your youth. But look well to your footsteps; for + vi-
pers, and scorpions, and adders surround your way.
Look at the generation who have just + preceded you.
The morning of their life was cloudless, and it dawned
a^ brightly as your own. But behold, now, the smit-
ten, enfeebled, inflamed, debauched, idle, poor, irreli-
gious, and + vicious, with halting step, dragging onward
to meet an early grave.
5.Their bright prospects are clouded, and their sun
is never to rise. Ho house of their own receives
set,
them, while from poorer to poorer tenements they de-
scend, as ^improvidence dries up their resources. And
now, who are those that wait on their footsteps, with
muffled faces and + sable garments? That is a father,
and that is a mother, whose gray hairs are coming with
sorrow to the grave. v That is a sister, weeping over
evils which she can not arrest^ and there is the broken-
hearted wife; ^and these are the children helpless in- —
nocents !— for whom their father has provided no
"

inheritance, save one of dishonor, and nakedness, and


woe!
6. And is this, beloved youth, the history of your

course? In this scene of desolation, do you see the


image of your future selves ? v Is this the poverty, and
the disease, which, as an armed man, shall take hold
on you?: and are your relatives and friends to succeed
those who now move on, in this mournful + procession,
weeping as they go ? '

7. morning now opens, and high


Yes, bright as your
as your hopes beat, this is your noon and your night,
unless you shun those habits of intemperance which
^
have thus early made theirs a day of clouds and of
thick darkness. If you frequent places of evening re-
— ;,

ECLECTIC SERIES. 85

sort for drinking; if you set out with drinking,


'•'social

daily, a little, prudently, ’’’temperately it is yourselves


;

which, as in a glass, you behold.


8. “One of the greatest consolations afforded to my

mind by the success of the temperance cause, is the re-


flection that my child will not he a drunkard.” Such
was the language of a distinguished philanthropist, as
he held a listening assembly chained by the voice of his
+ eloquence.

9. To his remark the heart of every parent '•'assents


temperance cause will be so
for that the progress of the
great, at the period when the child, which is now an
infant, shall come upon the theater of life, as to render
all use of ardent spirit, as a drink, '•'disreputable, can
scarcely be questioned.
10. If any father or mother could lift the veil of futu-
rity, and read on the page of coming years, that the son
now so lo^ed^ so idolized, perhaps, would become a
bloated, polluted, and polluting creature, reeling under
the ’’’influence of ardent spirit, the remainder of life
would be wret c hed. To such a parent, this world
would, indeed, be a vale of tears; and the silence and
‘•’solitude of the tomb, would be welcomed as the place
where the weary might be at rest.
11. The temperance '•'reform does in fact lift the veil
of years, and disclose to the parents of the present gen-
eration, their children and children’s children freed from
all the woes and curses of drunkenness, the smile of
gratitude upon their countenance, and the language of
benediction upon their lips.
12. “My child will not be a drunkard!” Cheering
thought! How it swells the heart with emotions too
big for utterance! What an ‘•'animated prospect does it
open to the mind! Alms-houses, and jails, and peni-
tentiaries, and State-prisons will then stand only as so
many monuments of the vices of an age gone by and ;

the evils consequent npon the use of ardent spirits shall


exist only upon the historian’s page, as so many + records
of former degeneracy and the errors of mankind.

Exercise. What is a certain security against intempei’ance?


;

86 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON XIX.

1. Fes'tal; adj. mirthful; joyous. > 8. Rc/se-ate; adj. blooming;


1. Gar'land-ed; v. adorned with l rosy.
wreaths of flowers. < 11. Fei/on; n. a public criminal.

3. De-vot'ed; adj. solemnly set > 12. En-tic'ing; adj. attracting to


apart. evil.

4. En-hance / ;
v. increase.
^
12. Spurned; v. rejected with
6. Sui/DER-eD; v. separated. \
disdain.
7. Ma'ni-ac; a. raving with mad- 13. Ltjre; v. to attract; to entice.

ness. 14. En-chant'ed; a. affected with


7. Glim'mer-ings ;
n. faint view. 1 enchantment; bewitched.

THE FESTAL BOARD.


Articulate distinctly the r in the following words found in this
lesson: bright, there, coral, garlanded, hair, for, ring, silvery,
pure, art, friendship, are, round, rises, merriest.

1. Come to the festal board to-night,


For bright-eyed beauty will be there,
Her + coral lips in nectar steeped,
And garlanded her hair.

2. Come to the festal board to-night,


For there the joyous laugh of youth
Will ring those + silvery peals, which speak
Of bosoms pure and stainless truth.
3. Come to the festal board to-night,
For friendship, there, with stronger chain,
Devoted hearts already bound
For good or ill, will bind again.
I went.
4. Nature and art their stores + outpoured;
Joy beamed in every kindling glance;
Love, friendship, youth, and beauty, smiled
What 'could that evening’s bliss enhance?
J? We parted.
;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 87

5. And years have flown ;


but where are now
The guests, who round that table met?
Rises their sun as gloriously
As on the + banquet’s eve it set?

6. How holds the chain which friendship wove?


Itbroke and soon the hearts it bound
;

Were widely sundered; and for peace,


Envy, and + strife, and blood, were found.
7. The merriest laugh which then was heard,
Has changed its tones to maniac screams,
As half-quenched memory kindles up
Glimmerings of guilt in + feverish dreams.
8. And where is she, whose diamond eyes

Golconda’s purest gems outshone?


Whose roseate lips of Eden breathed?
Say, where is she, the + beauteous one?

9. Beneath yon willow’s drooping shade,


With eyes now dim, and lips all pale,
She sleeps in peace. Read on her urn,
“A broken heart." This tells her tale.

10. And where is he, that tower of strength,


Whose fate with hers, for life was joined?
How beats his heart, once honor’s throne?
How high has "''soared his daring mind?
11. Go to the dungeon’s gloom to-night
His wasted form, his aching head,
And all that now remains of him,
Lies, + shuddering, on a felon’s bed.

12. Ask you of all these woes the cause?


The festal board, the enticing bowl,
More often came, and reason fled,
And maddened passions spurned + control.
13. Learn wisdom, then. The frequent feast
Avoid for there, with stealthy tread
;

Temptation walks, to lure you on,


Till death, at last, the banquet spread.
R W !

88 NEW FIFTH READER.


14. And shun, O, shun, the enchanted cup
Though, now, its + draught like joy appears,
Ere long it will he fanned by sighs,
And sadly mixed with blood and tears.
Exercises. — hat is the subject of this piece? What is meant
by the “Festal Board?” What dangers lurk around it?

EXERCISE IX.

The range of the valleys is his. He was the first embassador


sent iSwords and pens are both employed. I do not finch from

argument. He never winced for ,


it hurt him not. Do not singe
your gown. Pluck'd from its native tree. Nipt in the bud. Thou
found' st me poor, and keep’ st me so.

LESSON XX.
2. Dis-tinc'tion ;
n. a point of £ 4. Com-mi/ni-ty ;
n. a society, or
difference. < collection of individuals.
2. Wig'wam; n. an Indian hut. ? 4. Ar'ciii-tects; n. those who un-
3. Burrows; n. holes in the earth derstand building.
j

where animals lodge. I 5. Me-dic'i-nal ;


adj. heal-
4. Dis-cus'sion ;
n. arguing a > ing.
point. s 8. REc'Ti-Fi-eD ;
v. corrected.

MAN AND THE INFERIOR ANIMALS.


Remark. — ecollect, always, that you have it in your power to
become a good reader, by attention, study, and practice.

Articulate distinctly. Do not say diff'rence for dif-fer-ence;


in-struc for in-struck ;
pro-vi-d'n for pro-vid-zny ;
ir-reg’lar for ir-reg-

v-lar ;
facl-ty for fac-wl-ty.

1. The chief
+ difference between man and the other

animals consists in this, that the former has reason,


whereas the latter have only instinct; but, in order to
understand what we mean by the terms reason and in-
stinct, it will be '•'necessary to mention three things, in
which the difference very + distinctly appears.
2. Let us, first, to bring the parties as nearly on a
ECLECTIC SERIES. 89

level as possible, consider man in a savage state, wholly


'’occupied, like the beasts of the field, in providing for
the wants of his animal nature and here, the first dis-
;

tinction that appears between them is, the use of imple-


ments. When the savage + provides himself with a hut,
or a wigwam, for shelter, or thathe may store up his
provisions, he does no more than is done by the rabbit,
the beaver, the bee, and birds of every species.
3. But the man can not make any + progress in this

work without tools; he must provide himself with an


ax, even before he can cut down a tree for its timber;
whereas these animals form their burrows, their cells,
or their nests, with no other tools than those with which
nature has provided them. In + cultivating the ground,
also, man can do nothing without a spade or a plow;
nor can he reap what he has sown, till he has shaped
an "’'implement with which to cut down his harvest.
But the inferior animals provide for themselves and
their young without any of these things.
4. Now for the second distinction. Man, in all his
+ operations, makes mistakes; animals make none. Did
you ever hear of such a thing as a bird sitting on a
twig, lamenting over her half-finished nest, and puzzling
her little head to know how to complete it? Or did you
ever see the cells of a bee-hive in clumsy, irregular
shapes, or observe any thing like a discussion in the
little community, as if there were a difference of opinion
among the architects ?
5. The lower animals are even better '’’physicians

than we are; for when they are ill, they will, many of
them, seek out some particular herb which they do not
use as food, and which possesses a medicinal quality ex-
actly suited to the complaint; whereas, the whole col-
lege of physicians will dispute for a + century about the
virtues of a single drug.
6. Man undertakes nothing in which he is not more

or less puzzled and must try numberless ’’’experiments,


;

before he can bring his undertakings to any thing like


perfection ;
even the simplest operations of ’’’domestic
life are not well performed without some + experience;
; — ;

90 NEW FIFTH READER.


and the term of man’s life is half wasted before he
has done with his mistakes and begins to profit by his
lessons.
7. The third distinction is, that animals make no
improvements while the knowledge, and skill, and the
success of man are perpetually on the increase. Ani-
mals, in all their operations, follow the first impulse of
nature, or that instinct which God has implanted in
them. they do undertake, therefore, their works
In all
are more perfect and regular than those of man.
8. But man, having been endowed with the ^faculty

of thinking or reasoning about what he does, is enabled,


by patience and industry, to correct the mistakes into
which he at first falls, and to go on constantly improv-
9.
ing. A bird’s nest is, indeed, a perfect + structure; yet
the nest of a swallow of the nineteenth century, is not
at all more ^commodious or elegant, than those that
were built amid the rafters of Noah’s ark. But if we
compare the wigwam of the savage with the temples
and + palaces of ancient Greece and Borne, we then shall
see to what man’s mistakes, rectified and improved
upon, conduct him.

When the vast sun shall veil his golden light


Deep in the gloom of everlasting night
When wild, destructive flames shall wrap the skies,
When ruin triumphs, and when nature dies;
Man shall alone the wreck. of worlds survive;
’Mid falling spheres, immortal man shall live.

Exercises. What is the subject of this lesson? What three


things form the distinction between man and animals? What is
instinct? What is the difference between instinct and reason? Is
man an animal? Is man superior to all other animals? In what
does the superiority consist? What does this enable man to do?

What is the first verb in the last sentence? In what mode, tense,
number, and person is it? What is the first pronoun? What is the
first noun? In what number and case is it? How is it parsed?
(See Pinneo’s Analytical Grammar, page 187, Rule VIII).
;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 91

LESSON XXI
1. UN-oc / cu-pi-eD; adj. not em- 8. Congress; n. the legislature
ployed or taken up. [failing. of the United States.
4. In-ex-haust'i-ble adj.;
un- 8. Ma th-e-m a-ti'ci an.s ;
n. those
5. Con-sid-er-a'tion; n. serious versed in mathematics.
thought; reflection. 9. Scepter; n. the emblem of
6. Pre-serv'a-tive ;
n. that which kingly power.
keeps from injury. 12. E-lec'tion; n. a choosing.
6. Re-spon-si-bii/i-ty ;
n. the 15. Pro-gres'sion; n. a moving
state of being liable to an- forward.
swer or account for. 15. Ap-prox-i-ma'tion ;
n. a near
7. Cul-ti-v action ;
n. improve- approach.
ment by study. 15. In-duce'ment; n. motive.

VALUE OF TIME AND KNOWLEDGE.


Pronounce correctly. Do not say val-eio for val-ue ;
prod-i-gul
for prod-i-gal; oc-ky-py-ing for oc-cu-py-ing; geth-er for gatli-er
as-tron-i-muz for as-tron-o-mers.

Sound the unaccented a properly in words like attention pleasant ,,

importance mental capable &c.


, , ,

1. Let me call your attention to the importance of

improving your time. The infinite value of time is not


+ realized. It is the most precious thing in all the world;
“the only thing. of which it is a virtue to he covetous,
and yet the only 'thing of which all men are + prodigal.”
2. In the first place, then, reading is a most interest-

ing and pleasant method of ''occupying your leisure


hours. All young people have, or may have, time
enough to read. The difficulty is, they are not careful
to improve it.
3. Their hours of ’'leisure are either idled away, or

talked away, or spent in some other way equally vain


and useless; and then they complain, that they have no
time for the cultivation of their minds and hearts.
4. Time is' so ’''precious, that there is never but one .

moment in the world at once, and that is always taken


away, before another is given. Only take care to gather
5th Rd. 8.
92 NEW FIFTH READER.
up the + fragments of time, and you .will never want
leisure for the reading of useful hooks. And in what
way can you spend your unoccupied hours more pleas-
antly, than in holding ^converse with the wise and the
good, through the '‘'medium of their writings? To a
mind not altogether devoid of curiosity, hooks form an
inexhaustible source of enjoyment.
5. It is a consideration of no small weight, that read-

ing furnishes material for interesting and useful con-


versation. Those who are ignorant of hooks, must
of course have their thoughts confined to very narrow
limits. What occurs in their immediate neighborhood,
the state of the market, the idle report, the tale of
scandal, the foolish story, these make up the circle of
their knowledge, and furnish the topics of their conver-
sation. They have nothing to say of importance, because
they know nothing of importance.
6. A taste for useful reading is an
+ effectual preserv-

ative from vice. Next to the fear of God, implanted in


the heart, nothing is a better safeguard to character,
than the love of good books. They are the handmaids
of virtue and religion. They quicken our sense of duty,
unfold our responsibilities, strengthen our '‘'principles,
confirm our habits, inspire in us the love ‘of what is
right and useful, and teach us to look with disgust upon
what is low, and groveling, and + vicious.
7. The high value of '•'mental cultivation, is another

weighty motive for giving attendance to reading. What


is it that mainly distinguishes a man from a brute?
Knowledge. What makes the vast difference there is,
between savage and civilized nations? Knowledge.
What forms the ‘'principal difference between men, as
they appear in the same society? Knowledge.
8. What raised Franklin from the humble station of

a printer’s boy, to the first honors of his country?


Knowledge. What took Sherman from his shoemaker’s
bench, gave him a seat in Congress, and there made his
voice to be heard among the wisest and best of his com-
peers? Knowledge. What raised Simpson from the
weaver’s + loom, to a place among the first of mathemati-
;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 93

cians ;
and Herschel, from being a poor fifer’s boy in the
9.
army, to a station among the first of astronomers?
Knowledge.
Knowledge is power. It is the philosopher’s stone,
the true secret, that turns every thing it touches into
gold. It is the scepter, that gives us our + dominion over
nature the key, that unlocks the store-house of creation,
;

and opens to us the treasures of the '’'universe.


10. The circumstances in which you are placed, as the
members of a free and '’'intelligent tcommunity, demand
of you a careful improvement of the means of knowledge
you enjoy. You live in an age of great mental excite-
ment. The public mind is awake, and society in general
is fast rising in the scale of improvement. At the same
time, the means of knowledge are most + abundant.
11. The road to wealth, to honor, to '’'usefulness, and
happiness is open to all, and all who will, may enter
upon it with the almost certain "’'prospect of success. In
this free community, there are no privileged orders.
Every man finds his level. If he has talents, he will be
known and estimated, and rise in the respect and '’'con-
fidence of society.
12. Added to this, every man is here a freeman. He
has a voice in the election of rulers, in making and exe-
cuting the laws, and may be called to fill important
places of honor and trust, in the community of which
he is a member. What then is the duty of persons in
these "’'circumstances? Are they not called to cultivate
their minds, to improve their talents, and to acquire the
knowledge which is necessary to + enable them to act
with honor and usefulness, the part ’’'assigned them on
the stage of life?
13. A diligent use of the means of knowledge, accords
well with your nature as rational and immortal beings.
God has given you minds which are capable of ’’'indefi-
nite improvement; he has placed you in circumstances
peculiarly favorable for making such improvement
and, to inspire you with diligence in mounting up the
shining course before you, he points, you to the prospect
of an endless + existence beyond the grave.
— ! ,

94 NEW FIFTH READER.


14. If you, who possess these powers, were destined,
after spending a few days on earth, to fall into non-
existence; if there were nothing in you which death
can not destroy, nor the grave cover, there would indeed
be but little inducement to cultivate your minds. “For
who would take pains to trim a taper which shines but
for a moment, and can never be lighted again?”-
15. But if you have minds which are capable of end-
less progression in knowledge, of endless approximation
to the supreme intelligence; if, in the midst of '‘unre-
mitting success, objects of new interest will be forever
opening before you O, what prospects are presented
;

to the view of man what strong inducements to '‘'culti-


!

vate his mind and heart, and to enter upon that course
of improvement here, which is to run on, brightening
in glory and in bliss, ages without end

Exercises. What is the subject of this lesson? What is a


pleasant method of occupying our leisure hours? For what does
reading furnish materials? From what does it preserve us? If a
man has knowledge, what may he hope for? What peculiar reasons
are there why American children should cultivate their minds?

In the last sentence, what interjection is there? AVhat is an inter-


jection? What does the word mean? Will you name four interjec-
tions? Why are they so called? See Pinneo’s Analytical Gram-
mar, page 20, Art. 55.

In Grammatical Questions reference will hereafter be made to


Pinneo’s Analytical Grammar. Such questions will be found very
profitable and interesting to the pupil. They will be to some degree
of an analytical character, as this not only increases the interest of the
study, but gives a more comprehensive and philosophical view of the
structure of sentences.

EXERCISE X.

Many arks were seen. They


and howl'd. The culprit
bark'd,

was lxurld from the rock. Words words words my lord. Are the
, ,

goods wharf' dl It was strongly urg'd upon him. JRcmarli d' st


thou that? He snarls but dares not bite. Arm d, say ye? Yes.
,

arm'd, my lord.
T ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 95

LESSON XXII.

1. Skep'tics; n. persons who cloubt > 2. Writhe; v. to be in torture.


or disbelieve religious truth. > 3. UN-sui/n-ed; adj. not stained.
2. De-base'ment; n. the being > 3. Wells; v. issues forth as water
sunk or degraded. does from the ground.
2. Un-per-vert'ed; adj. not £
3. Lave; v. wash; bathe.
turned to a wrong use. \
3. Dis-solv'ing ;
adj. melting.

CONSOLATION OF RELIGION TO THE POOR.


Remark. — his lesson requires great care, and must be read in
a natural, but solemn manner.

Pronounce correctly. Do not say wid-der for Wld-ow; vol-lum


for vol-iime; pal-it for pal-ate; pil-ler for pil-low.

1. There
is a mourner, and her heart is broken
She widow; she is old and poor;
is a
Her only hope is in the sacred token
Of + peaceful happiness when life is o’er;

She asks not wealth nor pleasure, begs no more


Than Heaven’s + delightful volume, and the sight
Of her Redeemer. Skeptics would you pour !

Your blasting "''yials on her head, and blight


Sharon’s sweet rose, that blooms and charms her being’s
night?

2. She lives in her "''affections ;


for the grave
Has closed upon her husband, ‘children; all
Her hopes are with the arms she trusts will save
Her "^treasured jewels; though her views are small,
Though she has never mounted high to fall
And writhe in her debasement, yet the spring
Of her meek, tender feelings, can not pall
Upon her unperverted + palate, but will bring
A joy without regret, a bliss that has no sting.
3. Even as a fountain, whose unsullied wave
Wells in the pathless, valley, flowing o’er
With silent waters, kissing, as they lave
L S : ;

96 NEW FIFTH READER.


The pebbles with light + rippling, and the shore
Of + matted grass and flowers; so softly pour
The breathings of her bosom, when she prays,
Low-bowed, before her Maker; then, no more
She muses on the griefs of former days
Her full heart melts and flows in Heaven’s dissolving
rays.
4. And world, and the eyes
faith can see a new
Of saints look pity Death will come
on her. :

A few short moments over, and the + prize


Of peace eternal waits her, and the. tomb
Becomes her fondest pillow all its gloom :

Is scattered. What a meeting there will be


To her and all she loved while here and the bloom !

Of new life from those cheeks shall never flee:


There is the health which lasts through all + eternity.
Exercises — hould there be. a pause at the end of every line
.

in poetry? Should the voice rise or fall at the word “night,” at the
end of the first stanza?

o-e-»
|

LESSON XXIII.
1. Ra-vine/ ;
n. (pro. ra-veen') a
(
4. Glen ;
n. a valley.
long deep hollow in the earth < 7. A're-a ;
n. any open surface,
worn by a stream of water. ) or space.
2. Quarter-deck; n. that part s 8. Ap-pend'a-ges ;
n. things add-
of a ship’s deck which lies 1 ed to a greater or principal
toward the stern. ]
thing.

SCENE AT THE SANDWICH ISLANDS.


Remark. — et all the pupils notice, as each member of the class
reads, where a pi’oper pause is not made at the commas and other
points.

Articulate distinctly. Do not say gath-er-in for gath-er-in# ;

ir-reglar for ir-reg-u-lar ; dif cul-ty for difi/z-cul-ty ;


na-v'l for na-val

in-feror for in-fe-n-or ;


primitive for primitive ;
in-vis ble for in-vis-

i-ble; u-ni-versly for u-ni-vers-al-ly.

1. At an early hour of the morning, even before we

had taken our breakfast on board the ship, a single


;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 97
+ islanderhere or there, or a group of three or four,
wrapped in their large mantles of various hues, might be
seen winding their way among the groves fringing the
bay on the east, or descending from the hills and ravine
on the north, toward the chapel; and by degrees their
numbers increased, till, in a short time, every path along
the beach, and over the uplands, presented an almost
+ uninterrupted procession of both sexes and of every
age, all pressing to the house of God.
2. So few + canoes were round the ship yesterday, and
the landing-place had been so little + thronged, as our
boats passed to-and-fro, that one might have thought
the + district but thinly inhabited but now, such multi-
;

tudes were seen gathering from various + directions, that


the exclamation, “ What crowds of people! What crowds
of people!" was heard from the quarter-deck to the fore-
castle.
3. Even to myself it was a sight of surprise; surprise

not at the magnitude of the population, but that the ob-


ject for which they were evidently + assembling, should
bring together so great a multitude. And as my thoughts
*re-edhoed the words, “What crowds of people!” + re-
membrances and + affections of, deep power came over
me; and the silent musings of my own heart were,
“What a change What a happy change ”
! !

4. When at this very place, only four years ago, the

known wishes and example of chiefs of high authority,


the daily + persuasion of teachers, added to motives of
+ curiosity and novelty, could scarcely induce a hundred

of the ^inhabitants, to give an + irregular, careless, and


^impatient + attendance on the services of the sanctuary.
But now,
“Like mountain Horrents pouring to the main,
From every glen a living stream came forth
From every hill, in crowds, they hastened down,
To worship Him, who deigns, in humblest fane,
On wildest shore, to meet th’ upright in heart.”

5. The scene, as looked on from our'ship in the still-

ness of a brightly-beaming Sabbath morning, was well


98 NEW FIFTH READER.
+ calculated,with its + associations, to prepare the mind
for strong impressions on a nearer view, when the + con-
clnsion of our own public worship should allow us to go
on shore. Mr. Goodrich had + apprised us, that he had
found it expedient to hold both the services of the Sab-
bath in the forepart of the day, that all might have the
benefit of two sermons, and still reach their abodes be-
fore + night-fall. For,

“ Numbers dwelt Gemote,


And must ^traverse many a weary mile,
first

To reach the altar of the God they love.”

6. And it was arranged, that, on this oecasion, the

second service should be - ^postponed till the officers


should be at liberty to leave the ship. It was near
• twelve o’clock when we went on shore; the captain and
first lieutenant, the purser, surgeon, several of the '''mid-
shipmen, and myself. Though the services had com-
menced when we landed, large numbers were seen cir-
cling the doors without ;
we
afterward found, only
but, as
from the '‘'impracticability of obtaining places within.
7. The house is an immense ^structure, capable of

containing many thousands, every part of which was


filled, except a small area in front of the pulpit, where

seats were reserved for us, and to which we made our


way, in slow and tedious + procession, from the difficulty
of finding a spot to place even our footsteps, without
treading on limbs of the people, seated on their feet, as
closely, almost, as they could be stowed.
8. As we entered, Mr. Goodrich paused in his~ sermon,

till we should be seated. I + ascended the pulpit beside


him, from which I had a full view of the + congregation.
The suspense of attention in the people was only + mo-
meiitary, notwithstanding the entire novelty to them of
the laced coats, and other appendages of naval uniform.
I can scarcely describe the emotions experienced in
glancing an eye over the immense number, seated so
thickly on the matted floor as to seem, + literally, one
mass of heads, covering an area of more than nine
thousand square feet. The sight was most striking, and
ECLECTIC SERIES. 99

soon9. became, not only to myself, but to some of my


fellow-officers, deeply affecting.
I have listened, with delightful attention, to some
of the highest + eloquence, the pulpits of America and
England, of the present day, can boast. I have seen
tears of + conviction and + penitence flow freely, under
the sterner truths of the word of God but it was left ;

for one at Hilo, the most + obscure corner of these dis-


tant islands, to excite the liveliest emotions ever experi-
enced, and leave the deepest impressions of the extent
and ^unsearchable riches of the gospel, which I have
ever known.
10. It seemed, even while I gazed, that the majesty of
that rising and + erecting to itself
Power might be seen
a throne, permanent as glorious, in the hearts of these
but lately utterly benighted and deeply polluted people.
And when I compare them, as they had once been
known to me, and as they now appeared, the change
seemed the effect of a + mandate scarcely less mighty in
itspower, or speedy in its result, than that exhibited
when it was said, “ Let there be light, and there was
light!"
11. The depth of the impression arose from the irre-
sistible + conviction that the Spirit of God was there.
It could have been nothing else. With the exception of
the inferior chiefs, having charge of the district, and
their dependents, of two or three native members of the
church, and of the mission family, scarcely one of the
whole multitude w~as in other than the native dress, the
simple garments of their + primitive state.
12. In this respect and in the attitude of sitting, the
assembly was purely pagan. But the breathless silence,
the eager attention, the half-suppressed sigh, the tear,
the various feeling, sad, peaceful, joyous, + discoverable
in the faces of many all spoke the presence of an invisi-
;

ble but + omnipotent Power, the Power which alone can


melt and renew the heart of man, even as it alone first
brought it into existence.
13. word, a heathen congregation laying
It was, in a
hold on the hopes of eternity; a heathen congregation,
5th Rd. 9.

100 NEW FIFTH READER.
fully sensible of tne degradation of their original state,
^exulting in the first beams of truth, and in the no un-
certain + dawn:ng of the Sun of Righteousness; thirsting
after knowledge, even while they sweetly drank the
waters of life and, under the inspiring influence, by
;

every look, expressing the heart-felt truth— ‘‘Beautiful


on the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good
tidings; that bringeth good tidings of good, that + pub-

lisheth salvation !

14. The simple appearance and yet Christian deport-


ment of that obscure dongregation, whom I had once
known, and at no remote period, only as a set of rude,
licentious, and wild pagans, did more to rivet the con-
viction of the divine origin of the Bible, and of the holy
influences by which it is accompanied to the hearts of
men, than all the + arguments, and + apologies, and de-
fenses of Christianity I ever read.
15. An entire moral deformation had taken place.
Instruction of every kind is eagerly and dniversally
sought, and from many a humble dwelling,, now
“ Is daily heard
The voice of prayer and praise to Jacob’s God:
And many a heart in secret heaves a sigh,
To Him who hears, well pleased, the sigh contrite.”

Exercises .
Where are the Sandwich Islands?
For what ob-
ject were the persons assembled as described in this lesson? What
change has taken place in the character of the population? To what
is this change to be attributed? Describe their appearance as seated
in the church. What is said of their deportment? What conviction
is all this calculated to produce?

Which are the adjectives in the 14th paragraph? Compare each of


them that will admit it. What does the word adjective mean? Why
so called? See Pinneo’s Analytical Grammar.

EXERCISE XI.

D -ay, a-ge, l-azo, awe- d, f-a-ther, a-rm, th-ee, ee-1, oo-ze, th-y, z'-sle,

tll-OM.

We have e-rr’d and str-ay’d from thy w-ay-s like 1-o-st sli-ee-p.
Sp-a-re thou those, 0 G-o-d, who confess their f-aii-lts.
:

ECLECTIC SERIES. 101

LESSON XXIV.
1. Ex-te'ri-or; n. outward ap- 4. Fi-nance / ;
n. income of the
£

pearance. s king or state.

1. De-pict'ed; v. painted; repre- J 5. Def^-cit; n. deficiency; want.


sented. > 6. De-fault'er n. one who fails
;

4. Rev'e-nues; n. annual in- s to account for public money

come from taxes, public ? entrusted to his care,


rents, &c. 5 9. Ex-per-i-ment'al ;
adj. derived
4. As-sn/u-ous; adj. very care- < from experience.
ful and attentive. ) 9. In-junc'tion; n. a command.

THE MANIAC.
Pronounce correctly the following words found in this lesson
Do not say fig-ger for fig-wre; sor-rer for sor-row; mel-an-chul-y
/
for mel-an-chol-y; finance for fi-nance ; de-fid'it for deFi-cit; mis-
cal-ky-la-tion for mis-cal-cu-la-tion.

1. A gentleman who had traveled in Europe, relates


that he one day visited the hospital of Berlin, where he
saw a man whose exterior was very striking. His figure,
tall and + commanding, was bending with age, hut more
with sorrow; the few scattered hairs which remained on
his temples were white, almost as the driven snow, and
the deepest + melancholy was depicted in his countenance.
2. On inquiring who he was, and what brought him

there, he started, as if from sleep, and after looking


around him, began with slow and measured steps to
stride the hall, repeating in a low but ^audible voice,
“Once one is two; once one is two.”
3. How and then he would stop and remain with his

arms folded on his breast as if in + contemplation, for


some minutes; then again resuming his walk, he con-
tinued to repeat, “Once one is two v once one is two v .” ;

His story, as our traveler understood it, was as follows.


4. Conrad Lange, collector of the revenues of the city

of Berlin, had long been known as a man whom nothing


could divert from the paths of honesty. + Scrupulously
exact iff all his dealings, and assiduous in the discharge
102 NEW FIFTH READER.
of all his he had acquired the good-will and
duties,
esteem of all who knew
him, and the confidence of the
minister of finance, whose duty it is to inspect the
accounts of all officers connected with the revenue.
5. On casting up his accounts at the close of a par-

ticular year', he found a deficit ' of ten thousand + ducats v


.

Alarmed at this discovery', he went to the minister,


presented his accounts, and informed him that he did
not know how it had arisen, and that he had been robbed
by some person bent on his ruin v .

6. The minister received his accounts, but thinking

it a duty to secure a person who might probably be a

defaulter, he caused him to be arrested, and put his


accounts into the hands of one of his secretaries for
+ inspection, who returned them the day after with the

information that the ^deficiency arose from a + miscalcu-


lation that in multiplying, Mr. Lange had said, once one
;

is two, instead of, once one is one.

7. The poor man was immediately released from


^confinement, his accounts returned, and the mistake
pointed out. Luring his imprisonment, which lasted
two days, he had neither eaten, drank, nor taken any
repose; and when he appeared, his countenance was as
pale- as death. On receiving his accounts, he was a long
time silent; then suddenly awaking as if from a + trance,
he repeated, “once one is two.”
8. He appeared to be entirely insensible of his situa-

tion; would neither eat nor drink, unless + solicited; and


took notice of nothing that passed around him. While
repeating his accustomed phrase, if any one corrected
him by saying, “once one is one;” his attention was
+ arrested for a moment, and he said, “ah, right, once

one is one;” and then resuming his walk, he continued


to repeat, “once one is two.” He died shortly after the
traveler left Berlin.
This affecting story, whether true' or untruev
9. ,

'•'obviouslyabounds with lessons of instruction^ Alas v !

how easily is the human mind thrown off its balance v ;


especially when it is stayed on this world only and has
no experimental knowledge of the meaning of the in-
— '

ECLECTIC SERIES. 103

junction of Scripture, to cast all our cares upon Him


who eareth for us, and who heareth even the young
ravens when they cry.

Exercises. Relate the story of Conrad Lange. What does it

teach us?
Give the rules for the inflections marked in the 3d and 9th para-
graphs. What part of speech is the last word in the lesson ?

EXERCISE XII.
Prolong the sounds of the vowels that are italicized.
W-a-r, o-r-b, fl-ow-s, p-w-re, d-ow-n, ai- d, b -oio, s-a-ve.

Tli-e-se are thy gl-o-ri-ous works, p-a-rent of g-oo-d. F-ai-rest of


Bt-a-rs ! L-a-st in the tr-ai-11 of n-z-ght. H-o-ly, h-o-ly, h-o-ly, a-rt
th-ou, 0 L-o-rd ! H-ai-1, h-o-ly 1-e-ght. W e pr-ai-se th-ee, 0 L-o-rd
G-o-d. •

LESSON XXV.
1. Hom'age; n. reverence and ? 3. Ees'tal; adj. pertaining to a
service paid by a subject to > feast; gay.
his king. < 3. Tourney; n. (pro. turn'y ) a

1. Barton; n. a lord; a nobleman. > kind of sport in which per-


1. Duch'y; n. the territory of a \ sons tried their courage and
duke. ? skill in fighting with the
1. Bark; n. a vessel; a small lance and sword.
(

ship. (
3. Minstrel; n. one who sings,
2. Reckless; adj. thoughtless. $ and plays on an instrument.

HE NEVER SMILED AGAIN.


Pronounce correctly. Do not say Eng-lund for Eng-land, (pro.
ing-land); re-cog'-niz d for rec'-og-nized ;
hull for whole; heerd for

heard; glo-rus for glo-n-ous; mhx-strul for min-strel; toorn-y for

tourn-ey, (pro. turn-}r .)

Henry I, king of England, who commenced his reign


A. H. 1100, had a son called William, a brave and noble-
minded youth, who had arrived at his eighteenth year.
The king loved him most tenderly, and took care to :

have him '‘'recognized as his successor by the states of


! ; : ;

104 NEW FIFTH READER.


England, and carried him over to Normandy, in the
north of France, to receive the homage of the barons of
that duchy. On the prince’s return, the vessel in which
he t embarked, was + wrecked. He was placed in a boat
and might have escaped, had he not been called back by
the cries of his sister. He "^prevailed on the sailors to
row back and take her in but no sooner had the boat
;

approached the wreck, than numbers who had been left,


jumped into it, and the whole were drowned. King
Henry, when he heard of the death of his son, fainted
away, and from that moment, he never smiled again.

1. The bark that held the prince went down,


The sweeping waves rolled on v ;

And what was England’s glorious crown


To him that wept a son ?
He lived v —for life may
long be borne b
Ere sorrow breaks chain v
its ;

Still comes not death to those who mourn


He never smiled again !

2. There stood proud forms before his throne,


The + stately and the brave;
But which could fill the place of one?
That one beneath the wave.
Before " him, passed the young and fair
In pleasure’s reckless + train v ;

But seas dashed o’er his son’s bright hair;


He never smiled again
3. He sat where festal bowls went round v ,

He heard the minstrel v sing


He saw the tourney’s victor crowned
Amid the mighty ring v ;

A + murmur of the +restless deep


Mingled with every strain,
A voice of winds that would not sleep
He never smiled again ! .

4. Hearts, in that time, closed o’er the + trace


Of + vows once fondly poured v ;
— ! ; '

ECLECTIC SERIES. 105


And took the + kinsman's place,
+ strangers

At many a +joyous boards


Graves', which true love had bathed with tears,
Were left to heaven’s bright rain v ;

Fresh hopes were born for other years;


He never smiled again
Exercises .
Relate the event upon which this poem is founded.
How long since did it happen ? Where is Normandy? Explain the
meaning of the third stanza. How should the fourth line of the
second stanza be read? For whom does “he” stand, in the last line
of each stanza?
Give the rule for each inflection marked.

EXERCISE XIII.

Prolong the sounds of the vowels that are italicized.

E-vr, a-11, a-ge, a-rm, o-ld, ou- r, ee-1, b-oy, i-sle.


Our Aa-ther, who art in Heaven. Woe unto tbee Chorazin! }

Woe unto tbee, Bethsaida!

LESSON XXVI.
3. Re-du'ccd; v. brought to pov- 6. Con-front'; v. to stand face to
|

erty. l face.
4. Vi'o-late; v. to break; to 7. Im-pos'tor; n. a deceiver.
transgress.-
|
7. At-tor'ney; n. a lawyer.
5. In-ves'ti-gate ;
v. to inquire ? 7. I-den'ti-ty; n. sameness.
into. 7. Ex-trem'i-ty; n. the utmost
^

§. Di'a-lect ;
n. a form of < distress. [time,
speech. \ 7. Op-por-tu'ni-ty ;
n. suitable

RESPECT FOR THE SABBATH REWARDED.


Pronounce correctly the following words found in this lesson:
Do not say oc-ky-pa-tion for oc-cu-pa-tion ;
list-rid for lis^-en-ed,

(pro. lis’n’d); sul-ler for cel-1 ar; op-per-site for op-po-site; half-
penny, pro. hap-pen-ny or ha-pen-ny.

1. In the city of Bath, not many years since, lived a


barber, who made a ^practice of following his ordinary
106 NEW FIFTH 'READER.
"^occupation on the Lord’s day. As he was pursuing his
morning’s employment, he happened to look into some
place of worship, just as the minister was giving out his
text, “Remember the Sabbath-day, to keep it holy.”
He listened long enough to be + convinced that he was
constantly breaking the laws of God and man, by shav-
ing and dressing his customers on the Lord’s day. He
became uneasy, and went with a heavy heart to his Sab-
bath task.
2. At length he took courage, and opened his mind to

his minister, who advised him to give up Sabbath dress-


ing, and worship God. He replied, that + beggary would
be the consequence. He had a flourishing trade, but it
would almost all be lost. At length, after lhany a sleep-
less night spent in weeping and praying, he was de-
termined to cast all his care upon God, as the more he
reflected, the more his duty became apparent.
3. He discontinued Sabbath dressing, went constantly

and early to the public ^services of religion, and soon


enjoyed that "^satisfaction of mind which is one of the
rewards of doing our duty, and that peace which the
world can neither give nor take away. The conse-
quences he foresaw, actually followed. His genteel cus-
tomers left him, and iie was nicknamed a Puritan v or,

Methodist v. He was obliged to give up his fashionable


shop, and, in the course of years, became so reduced^, as
to take a cellar under the old market-house, and shave
the common people^.
4. One Saturday evening, between light and dark, a

stranger from one of the coaches, asking for a barber,


was directed by the +h ostler to the cellar opposite.
Coming in hastily, he requested to be shaved quickly,
while they changed horses, as he did not like to violate
the Sabbath. This was touching the barber on a tender
cord. He burst into tears; asked the stranger to lend
him a half-penny to buy a candle, as it was not light
enough to shave him with safety. He did v so, revolving
in his mind the "'"extreme poverty to which the poor man
must be reduced.
5. When shaved, he said, “There must be something

ECLECTIC SERIES. 107

•extraordinary in yonr history, which I have not now


time to hear. Here is half a crown for yon. When I
and investigate your case. What is
return, I will call
your name v ?” “William Reed v ,” said the astonished
barbei'. “William Reed?” echoed the stranger “Wil- :

liam Reed'? by your dialect you are from the West''.”


“Yes, sir, from Kingston, near Taunton.” “William
Reed'. from Kingston', near Taunton'? What was
your father’s v name?” “ Thomas v .” “Had he any
brother?” “Yes, sir, one, after whom I was named;
but he went to the Indies, and, as we never heard from
him we supposed him to be dead.”
v follow
6. “Come along me v ,” said the stranger, “I
,

am going to see a person who says his v name is William


Reed, of Kingston, near Taunton. Come v and + confront v
him. If you prove to be indeed he who you say you
are', I have glorious news for you. Your uncle is dead,
and has left an + immense fortune, which I will put you
in possession of, when all ‘legal doubts are removed.”
7. They went by the coach
v
saw the pretended Wil-
;

liam Reed', and proved him to be an + impostor. The


stranger, who was a pious attorney', was soon + legally
satisfied of the barber’s identity, and told him that he
had + advertised him in vain. t Providence had now
thrown him in his way in a most + extraordinary man-
ner, and he had great pleasure in + transferring a great
many thousand pounds to a worthy man, the rightful
heir of the property. Thus was man’s extremity', God’s
opportunity v Had the poor barber possessed one half-
.

penny v or even had credit for a candlev he might have


, ,

remained unknown for years v but he trusted God, who


;

never said, “ Seek ye my face” in vain.

Exercises. What excited the barber’s attention on the subject


of keeping the Sabbath? What did he do? What was the effect
upon his business? What circumstance led to his becoming ac-
quainted with the fact that he was heir to a large property? Who
evidently brought about all these things?

Explain the inflections marked in the 5th, 6th, and 7th paragraphs.
;

108 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON XXVII.

2. Found'ed; v. built; estab- \ 7. Man'i-fold; adj. numerous;


lished. I various.
3. Hae-i-ta/tion ;
n. place of < 7. In-nu'mer-a-ble ;
adj. not to

abode. ? be counted.
5. Ref'uge; n. shelter; protection. \ 7. Le-vi'a-than ;
n. a large ani-
5. Copies; n. a kind of rabbit. < mal living in the water.
6. Ap-point'eth v. ordains.
;
? 8. Re-new'est; v. makest new.

THE GOODNESS OF GOD.


Pronounce eorrectly. Do not say Lawd for Lord ;
Gawd for

God; cov-erst for cov-or-est; cur-tane for cur-tam (pro. cur-tin);

cham-bers for cliam-bers.

1. Bless the Lord, O my soul! O Lord, my G-od!


thou art very great; thou art clothed with + honor and
majesty; who coverest thyself with light as with a gar-
ment who stretchest out the heavens like a + curtain
;

who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters;


who maketh the clouds his + chariot; who walketh upon
the wings of the wind; who maketh his angels spirits,
his ministers a flaming fire; who laid the + foundations
of the earth, that it should not he removed forever.
2. Thou coveredst it with the deep as with a gar-

ment: the waters stood above the mountains. At thy


+ rebuke they fled at the voice of thy thunder they
;

hasted away. They go up by the mountains they go ;

down by the + valleys unto the place which thou hast


founded for them. Thou hast set a bound that they may
not pass over that they turn not again to cover the earth.
;

3. He sendeth the springs into the valleys, which

run among the hills. They give drink to every beast of


the field; the wild asses quench their thirst. By them
shall the fowls of the heaven have their + habitation,
which sing among the branches. He watereth the hills
from his chambers; the earth is + satisfied with the fruit
of thy works.
ECLECTIC SERIES. 109

4. He
causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and
herb for the service of man, that he may bring forth
fruit out of the earth; and wine that maketli glad the
heart of man, and oil to make his face to shine, and
bread which strengtheneth man’s heart.
5. The trees of tbe Lord are full of sap; the + cedars

of Lebanon, which he hath planted, where the birds


make their nests as for the stork, the fir-trees are her
:

house. The high hills are a refuge for the wild goats,
and the rocks for the conies.
6. He appointeth the moon for
+ seasons; the sun

knoweth his going down. Thou makest darkness, and


it is night, wherein all the beasts of the forest do creep

forth. The young lions roar after their prey, and seek
their meat from God. The sun ariseth, they gather
themselves together, and lay them down in their + dens.
Man goeth forth unto his work, and to his labor until
the evening.
7. O Lord, how manifold are thy works in wisdom
!

hast thou made themall: the earth is full of thy riches.

So is this great and wide sea, wherein are things creep-


ing innumerable, both small and great beasts. There
go the ships: there is that leviathan, whom thou hast
made to play therein. These wait all upon thee, that
thou mayest give them their meat in due season.
8. That thou givest them they gather; thou openest

thine hand, they are filled with good. Thou hidest thy
face, they are troubled; thou takest away their breath,
they die, and return to their dust. Thou sendest forth
thy spirit, they are created and thou renewest the face
:

of the earth.
9. The glory of the Lord shall + endure forever: the

Lord shall rejoice in his + works. He looketh on the


earth, and it trembleth he toucheth the hills, and they
:

smoke.
10. O that men would praise the Lord for his good-
ness, and for his wonderful works to the children of
men And let them sacrifice the + sacrifices of thanks-
!

giving, and declare his works with tejoicing.


11. O give thanks unto the Lord; call upon his name;

110 NEW FIFTH READER.
make known his deeds among the people. Sing unto
him, sing psalms unto him talk ye of all his + wondrous :

works. Glory ye in his holy name: let the heart of


them rejoice that seek the Lord. Seek the Lord, and
his strength seek his face + evermore.
;

12. Remember his ^marvelous works that he hath


done; his wonders, and the judgments of his mouth.
He is the Lord our God; his "‘judgments are in all the
earth. I will sing unto the Lord as long as I live: I
will sing praise to my God while I have my being.

Exercises. How does God show his goodness in the sea? In


the springs? By the trees? By the sun and moon? What should
all this teach us?

EXERCISE XIV.
Prolong the sounds of the italicized vowels.

Kn -<m, fr-ee, th-ey, d -awn, n -ow, b -ay, th-e-re, sn-o-re.

Soothed with the scntnd, the king grew vain. Roll on, thou deep
and dark b hie ocean, roll.

LESSON XXVIII.

3. Tab'er-na-cle ;
n. a tempora- > 8. Pre-sumpt'u-ous; adj. hold;
ry habitation. > rash.
5. Tes'ti-mo-ny ;
n. solemn dec- \
8. Do-min'ion; n. power; control-
laration. I ling influence. [of law.
5. Sxat'utes; n. written laws. ^9. Trans-gres'sion ;
n. violation

NATURE AND REVELATION.


Utter distinctly the r, giving it its soft sound, in the following
words in this lesson : declare, there, nor, where, their, circuit,

perfect, converting, sure, pure, enduring, ever, sweeter, moreover.

1. The heavens declare the glory of God,


And the "‘"firmament showeth his + handiwork.
Day unto day + uttereth speech,
And night unto night showeth knowledge.
W
; : ; ; : : :

eclectic Series. Ill

2. There is no speech nor language


Where their voice is not heard.
Their line gone out through all the earth,
is

And their words to the end of the world.


3. In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun,
Which is as a + bridegroom coming out of his chamber,
And + rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race.

4. His going forth is from the end of the heaven,


And his +circuit unto the ends of it
And there is nothing hid from the heat thereof.

5. The law of the Lord is perfect, ^converting the soul


The testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the
simple
The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart.
6. The + commandment of the Lord is pure, '’'enlighten-
ing the eyes
The fear of the Lord is clean, + enduring forever:
The +judgments of the Lord are true and + righteous
altogether.

f. More to be desired are they than gold, yea, than


much fine gold
Sweeter also than honey and the honey-comb.
Moreover by them is thy servant warned
And in keeping of them there is great reward.
8. Who can + understand his terrors?
Cleanse thou me from secret faults
Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins:
Let them not have dominion over me.

9. Then shall I be upright,


And I shall be '’’innocent fro m the great transgression.
Let the words of my mouth, and the tmeditation of
my heart,
Be + acceptable in thy sight,
O Lord, my strength, and my + Kedeemer!

Exercises. — hat is the character of God, as exhibited by the


112 NEW FIFTH READER.
works of nature ? What is the character and influence of the law of
God? How can a man be kept from sin?
In the 8th paragraph, which are the pronouns? What does the
word pronoun mean? Which is the interrogative pronoun in that
paragraph? Which are the nouns in the plural number? Which, in
the singular? Which, of the neuter gender?
AVhat is th q subject of the sentence forming the first line in this lesson?
(See Pinneo’s Analytical Grammar, page 129, Art. 251, 253). What
'

is the attribute of the same sentence? (See page 135, Art. 261, 264).

LESSON XXIX.
1. Con-trasPed ;
adj. set in op- 5. V i-tai/i-ty ;
n. principle of
position. life. [surface.
1. So-mi/o-quies ;
n. talking to 5. En-asPel ;
v. to form a glossy
one’s self. 6. Ap-prox-i-ma'tion ;
n. ap-
2. Pe-ri-od / ic-al ;
adj. performed proach.
regularly in a certain time. 6. Cog-i-ta'tions; n. thoughts.
1
2. Rev-o-li/tion ;
n. circular mo- > 6. Ev-o-mPtions n. flying back- ;

tion of a body on its axis. 's ward and forward.


/
3. APA-LYZ-en; v. separated into < 6. Rus tic; n. one who lives in
the parts which compose it. the country.
4. Grav-i-ta'tion; n. the force 7. Met-a-phys^ic-al; adj. relat-

by which bodies are drawn ing to the science of mind.


to the center. 7. Vo-lPtion; n. the act of will-
5. NaPu-ral-ist; n. one that ing or determining.
studies natural history; as,
I
8. IjPpo-tence; n. want of power.
the history of plants, ani- i 13. Ac-coaPpLiSH-eD ;
a. having a
mals, &c. \
finished education.

CONTRASTED SOLILOQUIES.
Pronounce correctly. Do not say nar-rer for nar-i'ow ; pen-it-rate

for pen-e-trate ;
se-crits for se-crets ;
na-ter nor na-ishure for nat-
ure; be-yend for be-yond; cal-lcy-late for cal-cw-late; an-er-lyz d
for an-a-lyz’d ;
nat-shu-ral-ist for nat-it-ral-ist ;
spec-by-late for spec-

ulate; fiune-cy for flu-en-cy; pi-an-ner for pi-an-o ;


per-tic-er-lul-ly

for par-tic-u-lar-ly.

1. “Alasv
!” exclaimed a silver-headed sage, “how

narrow the utmost extent of human + sciencev how


is !

1
circumscribed the sphere of intellectual exertion! I
;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 113

have spent my life in acquiring knowledge; hut how


'

little do I know! The further I attempt to h penetrate


the secrets of nature'', the more I am + bewildered and
+ benighted v Beyond a certain limit', all is but con-
.

fusion or + cbnjecture v so that the advantage of the


;

learned over the ignorant", consists chiefly in having


+ ascertained how little is to be known.

2. “It is true that I can measure the sun'-, and com-

pute the distances of the planets v I can calculate their


;

periodical movements'", and even ascertain the laws by


which they perform their sublime revolutions'^ but with ;

regard to their "^construction", and the beings which in-


habit them, what do I know more than the clown v ?
3. “Delighting to examine the economy of nature in

our own" world, I have analyzed the elements, and


have given names to their component parts'". And yet,
should I not be as much at a loss to explain the burning
of fire, or to account for the liquid quality of water, as
the vulgar, who use and enjoy them without thought or
examination"?
4. “I remark that all bodies, unsupported, fall to the

ground and I am taught to account for this by the law


;

of gravitation. But what have I gained here more than


a term ' ? Does it convey to my mind any idea of the
nature' of that mysterious and invisible chain which
draws all things to a common center? I observe the
v
effect,
I give a name to the cause'' but can I explain or
comprehend " it?
5. “Pursuing the track of the naturalist, I have

learned to distinguish the animal + vegetable, and + mineral


,

kingdoms and to divide these into their


;
distinct tribes
and families; but can I tell, after all this toil, whence a
single blade of grass derives its vitality"? Could the
most minute researches enable me to discover the + ex-
quisite pencil, that paints and fringes the flower of the
field"? Have I ever detected the secret, that gives their
brilliant dye to the ruby and the emerald, or the art that
enamels the delicate shell"?
+
6. “I observe the sagacity of animals v I call it
;

* instinct', and speculate upon its various degrees of


114 NEW FIFTH READER.
approximation to the reason of man. But, after all, I
know as little of the cogitations of the brute, as he does
of mine. When I see a flight of birds ' overhead, per-
forming their evolutions' or steering their course to
some distant settlement', their signals and cries are as
+ unintelligible to me, as are the learned languages to

the unlettered rustic. I understand as little of their


laws, as they do of Blackstone’s Commentaries.
7. “But, leaving, the material creation, my thoughts

have often ascended to loftier subjects, and indulged in


metaphysical speculation. And here, while I easily per-
ceive in myself the two distinct qualities of matter and
mind, I am baffled in every attempt to comprehend their
mutual dependence and + mysterious connection. When
my hand moves in obedience to my will, have I the most
distant + conception of the manner in which the volition
is either + communicated or understood? Thus, in the
exercise of one of the most simple and ordinary actions,
I am perplexed and confounded if I attempt to account
for it.

8. “Again, how many years, of my


life were devoted

to the + acquisition of those languages by the means of


,

which I might explore the ^records of remote ages, and


become familiar with the learning and + literature of
other times And what have I gathered from these,
!

but the + mortifying fact, that man has ever been strug-
gling with his own impotence, and vainly endeavoring
to 10.
overleap the bounds which limit his anxious in-
quiries !

9. then, what have I gained by my + laborious


“Alas !

+ researches, but a humbling + conviction of my weak-


ness and ignorance! How little has man, at his best
estate, of which to boast! What folly in him to glory
in his contracted power, or to value himself upon his

imperfect + acquisitions !

“Well v ,” exclaimed a young lady, just returned


from school, “my education is at last finished^” In-
deed, it would be strange, if, after five years’ hard
” ' '

ECLECTIC SERIES. 115


+ application', any thing were left incomplete^. Hap-
pily, that is all over now and I have nothing to do, hut
;

to + exercise my various + accomplishments v .

11. “Let me see v ! As to French', I complete am


mistress of that, and speak it, with more
if possible,
^fluency than English^. Italian' I can read with ease,
and pronounce very well v as well, at least, as any of ;

my friends; and that is all one need wish in Italian.


Music' I have learned till I am perfectly sickv of it.
But, now that we have a grand piano, it will be delight-
ful to play when we have company; I must still con-
tinue to practice a little ;
the only thing, I think, that I
need improve myself in. And then there are
now to
my Italian songs v which every body allows I sing with
!

taste and as it is what so few people can pretend to, I


;

am particularly glad that I can.


12.“My drawings are universally admired; especially
the shells and flowers, which are beautiful, certainly:
beside this, I have a decided taste in all kinds of fancy
ornaments. And then my dancing and + waltzing ', in
which our master himself owned that he could take me
no further; just the figure^ for it, certainly; it would
be unpardonable if I did not + excel.
13. “As to common things, geography and history and ,

poetry and philosophy; thank my stars, I have got


through them all! so that I may consider myself not
only perfectly accomplished, but also thoroughly well
informed. Welb, to be sure v how much I have Magged ,

through! The only wonder is, that one head can +con-
v
tain: it all!

Exercises . —What is the substance of the old man’s soliloquy?


What is young lady’s? Which reasons most
the substance of the
correctly? What feeling is manifested by the old man in view of his
attainments? What by the young lady? Will those who are really
learned and wise, generally be vain?
What inflection is that marked at the words “common,” “geogra-
phy,” &c., in the 18th paragraph? What does it indicate here? (See
page 28). With what are these words contrasted?
How are the words “dancing” and “waltzing,” in the 12th para*
graph, parsed? See Pinneo’s Analytical Grammar, Rule V.
5th Rd. 10.
;

116 NEW FIFTH READER.

EXERCISE XV.
Give a full and distinct sound to the italicized consonants.

R-o w, d-are, /-a me, g- ave, A-orse, j-ew, A-ite, Aord, ra-an, n-o, p it,
g'-ueer, r-ow, <s-ir, £-ake, v-ow, 10-oe, y-e, th-ose, th-\imb, wh- at, i/i-ow,
c/i-urch.

LESSON XXX.

1. TRny; adj. very small; little; J'4. Per'son-age ;


n. a person of
puny. S importance.
3. Sa-lute'; n. greeting. < 5. Peering; adj. just coming up.
3. Mun'dane; adj. belonging to ? 6. Cum'ber-er; n. one who hin-
the world. 5 ders or is troublesome.
4. Re-tort'; n. to make a severe < 6. Vaunting ;
adj. vainly boast-
reply. 5 ing.

THE PEBBLE AND THE ACORN.— A Fable.

Pronounce correctly. Do not say per-son-ij for per-son-age;


/
sub-jud for sub-du’d; io-ward' for to ward ;
for-git for for-get;
yit for yet.


1. “I am a Pebble N and yield to none v
! !

Were the swelling words of a tiny stone;


“Nor time nor seasons can alter me;
I am ’’’abiding, while ages flee.

The + pelting hail and the + driveliug rain


Have tried to soften me, long, in vain
And the tender dew has sought to melt
Or touch my heart but it was not felt v
;
.

2. “There ’s none that can tell about my birth,


For I ’m as old as the big, round earth.
The children of men arise, and pass
Out of the world', like blades of grass;
And many a foot on me has trod',
That’s gone from sight, and under the + sodv !

I am a Pebble v but who art thou'',


!

Rattling along from the restless bough?”


! ; : !

ECLECTIC SERIES. 117

3. The Acorn.was shocked at this rude salute,


And lay, for a moment, abashed and mutev ,*

She never before had been so near'’


This gravelly ball, the mundane + sphere v ;

And she felt, for a time, at a loss to know


How to answer a thing so coarse and low.

4. But to give reproof of a nobler sort


Than the angry look', or keen retort',
At length, she said, in a gentle tone:
“Since it has happened that I am thrown
From the lighter element, where I grew,
Down to another, so hard and new,
And beside a + personage so + august',
Abased, I will cover my head in dust v ,

And quickly retire from the sight of one


Whom timev nor season v nor stormv nor sun v
, , , ,

Nor the gentle dew v nor the grinding heel',


,

Has ever subdued, or made to feel v ” !

And soon, in the earth, she sunk away


From the comfortless spot where the Pebble lay.
5. But it was not long ere the soil was broke

By the peering head of an infant oak v :

And, as it arose, and its branches spread,


The Pebble looked up, and wondering said
“A modest Acorn''never to tell
What was enclosed in its simple shell v !

That the pride of the forest was folded up


In the narrow space of its little cup v !

And meekly to sink in the darksome earth,


Which proves that nothing could hide its worth

6. “AndO! how many will tread on' me,


To come and admire the beautiful tree,
Whose head is lowering toward the sky,
Above such a worthless thing as Iv !

Useless and vain, a cumberer here,


I have been idling from year to year
But never, from this, shall a vaunting word
From the humble Pebble again be heard,
118 NEW FIFTH READER.
Tillsomething, without me or within,
Shallshow the purpose for which I have been.”
The Pebble its vow could not forget,
And it lies there wrapped in silence yet.
Exercises —
What was the Pebble’s boast ? How did the Acorn
.

feel? What did the Acorn say? What did it do? What did it
become? What did the Pebble then say? What is the moral of this
fable?

What words in the fourth paragraph form a commencing series?


Give the reasons for the other inflections marked.

10.

LESSON XXXI.
11.

1. At-test'; v. to bear witness to. ) Dextrous; a. skillful; artful.


3. Ac'tion; n. a claim made be- l 10. An-DU /ceD; v. brought for-
fore a court. ward in argument.
3. As-siz'es; n. a court of justice. I
11. Pleai/er; n. one that argues
6. Plaint'iff; n. the person who s
in a court of justice, [oath.

commences a suit at court. < De-pos^d; v. gave evidence on


7. Pre-ca'ri-ous ;
adj. uncertain. S 11. Verdict; n. the decision of
7. Ju'ry-man; n. one who serves ( a j ury concerning the matter
on a jury, and whose business ? referred to them, [of a jury.
it is to hear the evidence and 12. Fore /man; n. the chief man
decide which party is right 14. Dem-on-stra'tjon ;
n. certain
in any given case. proof. [ing.
7. Ex-cept7 ;
v. to object. 15. Soph'ist-ry; n. false reason-

THE JUST JUDGE.


Pronounce correctly the following words in this lesson. Do not
say fel-ler for fel-1 ow ; ven-tur nor ven-tshur for vent-wre, (pro.
vent-yur); stim-viy-la-ted for stim-u-la-ted ;
thou-sun for thou-sand;
back-wild for back-ward ;
for-ud for forward ;
ig-ner-unt for ig-no-
rant; el-er-qunce for el-o-quence ;
lev-un for e-lev-en, (pro. e-lev’ n).

A genteeman who possessed an estate worth about


1.

five hundred a year, in the eastern part of England,


had two sons. The eldest, being of a + rambling dis-
position, went abroad. After several years, his father
died; when the younger son, destroying his will, seized
;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 119

upon the estate. He gave out that his elder brother


was dead, and + bribed false witnesses to attest the truth
of it.

2. In the course of time, the elder brother returned

but came home in "^destitute circumstances. His younger


brother repulsed him with scorn, and told him that
he was an ‘'impostor and a cheat. He asserted that his
real brother was dead long ago; and he could bring
witnesses to prove it. The poor fellow, having neither
money nor friends, was in a sad situation. He went
round the parish making complaints, and, at last, to a
lawyer, who, when he had heard the poor man’s story,
replied, “You have nothing to give me. If I undertake
your cause and lose' it, it will bring me into + disgrace,
as all the wealth and + evidence are on your brother’s
side.
3. “However, I will undertake it on this condition;
pay me one thou-
'

you shall enter into an h


obligation to
sand guineas, if I gain the estate for you. If I lose' it,
I know the eonsequences v and I venture with my eyes
;

openV Accordingly, he entered an action against the


younger brother, which was to be tried at the next gen-
eral assizes at Chelmsford, in Essex.
4. The lawyer, having engaged in the cause of the

young man, and being + stimulated by the prospect of


a thousand guineas, set his wits to work to contrive the
best method to gain his end. At last, he hit upon this
happy thought, that he would consult the first judge of
his age, Lord Ghief- Justice Hale. Accordingly, he hast-
ened up to London, and laid open the cause, and all its
circumstances. The judge', who was a great lover of
justice', heard the case attentively, and promised him
all the assistance in his power N .

5. The lawyer having taken leave, the judge con-


trived matters so as to finish all his business at the
King’s Bench, before the assizes began at Chelmsford.
When within a short distance of the place, he dismissed
his man and horses, and sought a single house.
. He
found one occupied by a miller. After some conversa-
tion, and making himself quite agreeable, he proposed
' ;

120 NEW FIFTH READER.


change clothes with him. As the judge
to the miller to
had a very good' suit on, the man had no reason to
object.
6. Accordingly, the Judge shifted from top to toe,

and put on a complete suit of the miller’s best. Armed


with a miller’^ hat, and shoes, and stick, he walked to
Chelmsford, and + proeured good lodgings, suitable for
the assizes, that should come on next day. When the
trials came on, he walked like an ignorant country
fellow, backward and forward, along the county hall.
He observed narrowly what passed around v him; and
when the court began to fill', he found out the poor
fellow who was the plaintiffs
7. As soon as he came into the hall, the miller drew

up to him. “Honest friend',” said he, “how is your


cause like to go v to-day?” “Why, my cause is in a very
precarious situation, and, if I lose it, I am ruined for
life.” “Well, honest friend',” replied the miller, “will
you take my advice'? I will let you into a secretv ,

which perhaps you do not know' every Englishman has


the right and privilege to except against any one jury-
man out of the whole twelve; now do you. insist upon
your ^privilege, without giving a reason, and, if possi-
ble, get me chosen in his room, and I will do you all the
service in my power.”
8. Accordingly, when the clerk had called over the

names of the jurymen, the plaintiff excepted to one of


them. The judge on the bench was highly offended at
this liberty. “What do you mean,” said he, “by ex-
cepting against that gentleman?” “I mean, my lord,
to assert my privilege as an Englishman, without giving
a reason why. 1

9. The judge, who had been highly bribed, in order to

conceal it by a show of candor, and having a + confidence


in the "^superiority of his party, said, “Well, sir', as
you claim your privilege in one' instance, I will grant v
it. Whom would you wish to have in the room of that
man excepted?” After a short time, taken in "‘'consid-
eration, “My lord,” says he, “I wish to have an honest
man chosen in;” and looking round the court “my —
; "

ECLECTIC SERIES. 121

lord', there is that miller in the court; we will have


if you please.” Accordingly, the miller was
chosen in.
10. As soon had given them
as the clerk of the court
all came into the
their oaths, a dextrous little fellow
apartment, and slipped ten golden guineas into the hands
of each of eleven jurymen, and gave the miller but five.
He observed that they were all bribed as well as him-
self, and said to his next neighbor, in a soft whisper,

“How much have you v got?” “Ten pieces'^,” said he.


But he concealed what he had got himself. The cause
was opened by the plaintiff’s counsel and all the scraps
;

of evidence they could pick up were adduced in his


favor.
11. The younger brother was provided with a great
number of witnesses and pleaders, all plentifully bribed,
as well as the judge. The witnesses deposed, that they
were in the self-same country when the brother died,
and saw him buried. The counselors pleaded upon
this Accumulated + evidence; and every thing went with
a full tide in favor of the younger brother. The judge
summed up the evidence with great gravity and delib-
eration; “and now, gentlemen of the jury',” said he,
“lay your heads together, and bring in your verdict as
you shall deem most just.”
12. They wmited but for a few minutes,before they
determined in favor of the younger brother. The judge
said, “Gentlemen', are you agreed? and who shall
speak v for you?” “We are all agreed, my lord',” re-
plied one, “and our foreman v shall speak for us.”
“Hold v ,
my lord',” replied the miller; “we are not'' all
agreed.” “Why v ?” said the judge, in a very surly
manner, “what’s the matter with you''? What reasons
have you'' for disagreeing?”
13. “I have several reasons, my lord,” replied the
miller: “the first is, they have given to each of these
gentlemen of the jury ten ' broad pieces of gold, and to
me but five'' which, you know, is not fair. Besides, I
have many objections to make to the false reasonings of
the pleaders, and the Contradictory evidence of the wit-

122 NEW FIFTH READER.
nesses.” Upon this, the miller began a discourse, which
discovered such a vast penetration of judgment, such
+ extensive knowledge of law, and was expressed with

such manly and energetic eloquence, that it astonished


the judge and the whole court.
14. As he was going on with his powerful demonstra-
tions, the judge, in great surprise, stopped him. “ Where
did you come from, and who are you?” “I came from
Westminster Hall,” replied the miller; “my name is

Matthew Hale; I am Lord Chief-Justice of the King’s


Bench. have observed the + iniquity of your proceed-
I
ings this day; therefore, come down from a seat which
you are not worthy to hold. You are one of the cor-
rupt parties in this iniquitous business. I will come up
this moment and try the cause all over again.”
15. Accordingly, Sir Matthew went up, with his mill-
er’s dress and hat on, began the trial from its very
commencement, and searched every circumstance of
truth and falsehood. He evinced the elder brother’s
title to the estate, from the contradictory evidence of
the witnesses, and the false reasoning of the pleaders;
+ unraveled all the sophistry to the very bottom, and

gained a complete victory in favor of truth and justice.

Exercises. What were the circumstances under which the


younger brother took possession of his father’s estate? How did he
treat his elder brother upon his return? What did the elder brother
do? What plan did Chief-Justice Hale pursue? What influenced
him to take all this trouble?

EXERCISE XVI.
In the following words, sound the last consonant distinctly.

(After such exercises as this, it will be necessary to guard against


a drawling style of reading).

Or-5, ai -d, fa -g, Geor-ge, a-ll, ai -m, ow-n, li-jo, wa-r, hi-ss, h a-t,
gbye, a -dd, so -ng, brea-i'A, tru-iA, pu-sA, bir-cA.
Mo-5, la A, ruy, ha-^, ca-ge, ta-cA, fi -ll, ri-w, si-n, ho-j», fa-r, pa-ce,

hi-*, \\n-ve, ha-5, pa -ng, ba-nA, soo-the, ipi-th, wi-sh, ri-cA.


ECLECTIC SERIES. 123

LESSON XXXII.

1. Con-tkoi/; v. subdue; restrain; 1 6. Su-per-an / nu-a-ted ;


adj. im-
govern. < paired by old age and in-
I. Culture; n. cultivation; im- ? firmity.
provement by effort. s 7. Rep'ri-mand; v. to reprove for
3. Def'er-ence; n. regard; re- ^
a fault.
spect. - S 8. A-chiev^d; v. gained.

CONTROL YOUR TEMPER.


Pronounce correctly and articulate distinctly. Do not say

nat-ter-rul-ly nor nat’rl-ly for nat-u-ral-ly; cul-ter nor cult-tshiCr for

cult-ure, (pro. cult-yur); spe-cial-ly for es-pe-cial-ly ;


de-rdngd for
de-ranged; def-runce for def-er-ence ;
gov-uns for governs; win-der-

bline for win-doio-blind; u-shid for u-sw-al.

1. No one has a temper naturally so good, that it does

not need attention and cultivation, and no one has a


temper so bad, but that, by proper culture, it may
become pleasant. One of the best disciplined tempers
ever seen, was that of a gentleman who was naturally
quick, irritable, rash, and violent; but, by having the
care of the sick, and especially of deranged people, he '’

so completely mastered himself, that he was never


known to be thrown otf his guard.
2. The difference in the happiness which is received

or bestowed by the man who governs his temper, and


that by the man who does not, is immense. There is no
misery so constant, so distressing, and so + intolerable to
pthers, as that of having a disposition, which is your
master, and which is continually fretting itself. There
are corners enough, at every turn in life, against which
we may run, and at which we may break out in + impa-
tience, if we choose.
3. Look at Boger Sherman^, who rose, from a humble
occupation, to a seat in the Congress of the United
first
States, and ^ whose judgment was received with great
6 th ltd. 11.
124 NEW FIFTH READER.
deference by that body of distinguished men. He made
himself master of his temper, and Cultivated it as a
great business in life. There are one or two instances
which show this part of his character in a light that is
beautiful.
4. One day, after having received his highest honors,

he was sitting and reading in his parlor. A '‘roguish


student, in a room close by, held a looking-glass in such
a position, as to pour the reflected rays of the sun di-
rectly in Mr. Sherman’s face. He moved his chair, and
the thing was repeated. A third time the chair was
moved, but the looking-glass still Reflected the sun in
his eyes. He laid aside his book, went to the window,
and many witnesses of the 'Impudence expected to hear
the ungentl emanly student severely reprimanded. He

raised the window gently, and then shut the window-
blind!
5. I can not forbear ''adducing another instance of

the power he had 'acquired over himself. He was


naturally possessed of strong passions; but over these
he at length obtained an extraordinary control. He
became '^habitually calm, + sedate, and self-possessed.
Mr. Sherman was one of those men who are not ashamed
to ''maintain the forms of religion in their families. One
morning, he called them all together, as usual, to lead
them in prayer to (xod v the “old family Bible” was
;

brought out, and laid on the table.


6. Mr. Sherman took his seat, and placed beside him

one of his children, a child of his old age v the rest of


;

the family were seated around the room; several of


these were now grown up. Beside these, some of the
tutors of the college were boardersin the family, and
were present at the time alluded to. His aged and
superannuated mother occupied a corner of the room,
opposite the place where the ‘•'distinguished judgev sat.
7. At length, he opened the Bible, and began to read.

The child who was seated beside him, made some little
'•disturbance. upon which Mr. Sherman paused, and told
it to be still. Again he proceeded v but again he paused,
;

to reprimand the little offender'’, whose playful disposi-


' —
ECLECTIC SERIES. 125

tion would scarcely permit it to be still*. And this time,


he gently tapped its ear. The blow, if blow it might be
called, canght the attention of his aged mother, who
now, with some effort, rose from the seat, and tottered
across the room. At length, she reached the chair of
Mr. Sherman, and, in a moment, most unexpectedly to
him, she gave him a blow on the ear with all the force
she could lummon. “There*,” said she, “you strike
your child, and I will strike mine *.”
For a moment, the blood was seen mounting to
the face of Mr. Sherman but it wa§ only" for a moment,
;

when all was calm and mild as usual. He paused*; he


raised his spectacles*; he cast- his eye upon his mother*;
again it fell upon the book'' from which he had been
reading*. Mot a word escaped him but again he calm- ;

ly pursued the service, and soon after sought in prayer


an + ability to set an ^example before his household,
which should be worthy of their '^imitation. Such a
victory was worth more, than the proudest one ever
achieved on the field of battle.

Exercises. Has any one a temper so bad that it can not be


governed and made pleasant? How can this be done ? To whom does
a bad temper give most pain? Is it a duty to control it? Repeat the
two anecdotes related of Judge Sherman.

Give the rules for the inflections marked in thig lesson.

EXERCISE XVII.
When similar sounds come at the end of one word and the begin-
ning of the next word, they must not be blendecLinto one sound.

Malice seeks to destroy. The breeze sighs softly. The ice

slowly melts. The hosts still stand. The Ian d descends.


His
deat/i drilled the nation. Li/e /lies swiftly. With sad dismay he
saw liis dreaded destiny. His blan& countenance revealed all.
Grief /ills his heart. The ji6-6oom was carried aw.ay. The ha^
groaned drearily.
;

126 NEW FIFTH DEADER.

LESSON XXXIII.

1. Sphere; n. the expanse in < 3. Ca-reer'ing; v. moving rap-


which the heavenly bodies < idly.

appear. '
>3. Swerves; v. deviates from;
2. Moan; n. grief expressed in < varies from.
words or cries. ? 4. Nest'ling; n. a young bird -in

2. Crystal; adj. clear; transpar- \ the nest. [feathers,


ent. < 4. Un-plumes'; v. strips of his

THE CHILD’S INQUIRY.


Articulate each letter. Do not say chile for chile?; creer-in for
ca-reer-iny ; re-ly-in for re-ly-iny de-fy-in for de-fy-iny ; sweet-es
for sweet-es? ; waf for waft.

1. What is that, mother'?


The lark*, my child '.
The morn has just looked out, and smiled,
When he starts from his humble + grassy nest,
And is up and away with the dew on his breast,
And a hymn in his heart, to yon pure bright sphere,
To + warble it out in his Maker’s ear.
Ever, my child', be thy morn’s first lays,
Tuned, like the lark’s, to thy Maker’s praise.

2. What is that', mother'?


The dove v ,
my son.
And that low, sweet voice, like a widow’s moan,
Is flowing outfrom her gentle breast,
f Constant and pure by that lonely nest,
As the wave is poured from some crystal + urn,

For her distant dear one’s quick return.


Ever, my son', be thou like the dove;
In + friendship as faithful, as constant in love.

3. What is that', mother'?


The eagle*, my bojq
Proudly careering in his course of joy
Firm, in his own mountain + vigor +relyingv ;
T ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 127

Breasting the dark storm v the red bolt N '•'defying; ;

His wing on the wind, and his eye on the sun,


He swerves not a hair, hut bears onward, right on v .

Boy, may the eagle’s flight ever be thine


Onward and upward, and true to the line.
4. What is thatv ,
mother
The swan, my love.
He is ^floating down from his
native grove;
No loved one, now, no nestling nigh;
He is floating down by himself, to die.
Death darkens his eye, and unplumes his wings,
Yet his sweetest song is the last he sings.
Live so, my love, that when death shall come,
+ Swan-like and sweet it may waft thee home.

Exercises .—What lesson is drawn from the lark £ What from


thedove? Theeagle? The swan? What beautiful figure in vei’se 2d ?
Which are the verbs in the last paragraph? Give the present
tense, first person plural, indicative mode, of each. Parse “swa'n”
in the same paragraph.

LESSON XXXIV.

2. Scc'cor; v. help; assist. ) 7. Coai'PAss-eD ;


v. surrounded.
6. Shek/el; n. a Jewish coin, s 8. Dale; n. a low place between
worth about sixty cents. \
hills.

DEATH OF ABSALOM.
Remark. — he last words of every sentence should be read in
such manner as the sense requires, especially avoiding a sudden fall

of the voice.

Articulate distinctly. Do not say Ab-slom for Ab-sa-lom;


capris for cap-toms; hun-durds for liun -dreds ; saw’ss for s&w-est;
thruss for thrust

1. David numbered the people that were with him,


and set captains of thousands and captains of hundreds
over them. And David sent forth a third part of
128 NEW FIFTH READER.
the people under the hand of Joab, and a third part
under the hand of Abishai, the son of Zeruiah, Joab’s
brother, and a third part under the hand of Ittai, the
Gittite.
2. And the king said unto the people, I will surely go
forth with you myself also. But the people answered,
thou shalt not go forth for if we flee away, they will
;

not care for us; neither if half of us die, will they care
for us; but now thou art worth ten thousand of us;
therefore now it is better that thou succor us out of the
city. And the king said unto them, What seemeth you
best, I will do.
3. And the king stood by thje gate-side, and all the

people came out by hundreds and by thousands. And


the king commanded Joab, and Abishai, and Ittai, say-
ing, Deal gently for my sake with the young man, even
with Absalom. And all the people heard when the king
gave all the captains charge + concerning Absalom.
4. So the people- went out into the field against

Israel; and the battle was in the wood of '’'Ephraim;


where the people of Israel were slain before the serv-
ants of David, and there was there a great + slaughter
that day of twenty thousand men. For the battle was
there scattered over the face of all the country: and
the wood devoured more people that day than the sword
devoured.
5. And Absalom met the servants of David. And
Absalom rode upon a mule, and the mule went under
the thick boughs of a great oak, and his head caught
hold of the oak, and he was taken up between the heaven
and the earth and the mule that was under him went
;

away.
6. And a certain man saw it, and told Joab, and said,

Behold, I saw Absalom hanged in an oak. And Joab


said unto the man that told him, And behold, thou
sawest him, and why didst thou not smite him there to
the ground? and I would have given thee ten shekels
of silver and a + girdle. And the man said unto Joab,
Though I should receive a thousand shekels of silver in
my hand, yet would I not put forth my hand against
;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 129

the king’s son; for, in our hearing, the king charged


thee, and Abishai, and Ittai, saying, Beware that none
touch the young man Absalom. Otherwise, I should
have + wrought falsehood against mine own life; for
there no matter hid from the king, and thou thyself
is

wouldst have set thyself against me.


7. Then said Joab, I may not tarry thus with thee.

And he took three darts in his hand, and thrust them


through the heart of Absalom, while he was yet alive in
the midst of the oak. And ten young men that bare
Joab’s armor, compassed about and smote Absalom, and
slew him. And Joab blew the trumpet, and the people
returned from pursuing after Israel; for Joab held back
the people.
8. And
they took Absalom, and cast him into a great
pit in the wood, and laid a very great heap of stones
upon him; and all Israel fled, every one to his tent.
ISTow Absalom, in his life-time, had taken and + reared up
for himself a pillar, which is in the king’s dale for he
;

said, I have no son to keep my name in + remembrance


and he called the pillar after his own name; and it ia
called unto this day, Absalom’s Place.
10.
9. Then said Ahimaaz the son of Zadok, Let me now

run, and bear the king ^tidings, how that the Lord hath
avenged him of his + enemies. And Joab said unto him,
Thou shalt not bear tidings this day, but thou shalt bear
tidings another day: but this day thou shalt bear no
tidings, because the king’s son is dead. Then said Joab
to Cushi, Go, tell the king what thou hast seen. And
Cushi bowed himself unto Joab, and ran.
Then said Ahimaaz the son of Zadok yet again to
>%Joab, But howsoever, let me, I pray thee, also run after
Cushi. And Joab said, Wherefore wilt thou run, my
son, seeing that thou hast no + tidings ready? But how-
soever, said he, let me run. And he said unto him, run.
Then Ahimaaz ran by the way of the plain, and overrun
Cushi.
s ll. And David sat between the two gates; and the
watchman went up to the roof over the gate unto the
wall, and lifted up his eyes, and looked, and behold, a
— ?

130 NEW FIFTH HEADER.


man running alone. And the + watchman cried, and
told the king. And the king said, If he he alone, there
is tidings in his month. And he came apace, and drew
near.
12. And the watchman saw another man running, and
the watchman called unto the porter, and said, 'Behold,
another man running alone. And the king said, He
also brinffeth tidings. And the watchman said, +Me-

thinketh the running of the foremost is like the running


of Ahimaaz the son of Zadok. And the king said, He is
a good man, and cometh with good tidings.
13. And Ahimaaz called, and said unto the king, All
is well. And he fell down to the earth upon his face
before the king, and said, Blessed be the Lord thy God,
which hath delivered up the men that lifted up their
hand against my lord the king. And the king said, Is
the young man Absalom safe? And Ahimaaz answered,
When Joab sent the king’s servant, and me thy servant,
I saw a great ‘‘'tumult, but I knew not what it was.
And the king said unto him, Turn aside and stand here.
And he turned aside, and stood still.
14. And behold, Cushi came; and Cushi said, Tidings
my lord the king; for the Lord hath ^avenged thee this
day of all them that rose up against thee. And the king
said unto Cushi, Is the young man Absalom safe? And
Cushi answered, The enemies of my lord the king, and
all that rise against thee to do thee hurt, be as that

young man is.

15. the king was much moved v and went up to


And ,

the chamber over the gate, and wept; and as he went,


thus he said, O my son Absalom H my son^, my son
Absalom v would to God I had died for thee v O Absa-»
!
,

iom^, my son, my son v !.

Exercises .
Why did not David himself go forth to the battle
What charge did David give to the three officers respecting Absalom?
What was the result of the battle? What was the fate of Absalom?
What was the effect of the news of Absalom’s death upon king
David ?
Explain the inflections in the last two lines. (Persons addressed
and emphatic repetition).
I

ECLECTIC SERIES. 131

LESSON XXXV.
3. Court'e-sy; n. (pro. hurt' e-sy
) £
5. Swayed; v. leaned; moved
civility,; politeness. back and forth.
j
4. Trem^u-lous; adj. trembling. 6. Trailing; n. dragging on
j

4. Es-TRAN'GeD ;
adj. alienated in the ground.
• atfection. 6. Re-vers^d ;
v. turned side
4. CoN-TROi/teD ;
v. restrained. ? for side, or end for end.
5. Sym'me-try; n. a due propor- s 9. Sackcloth; n. a coarse cloth.
tion of the several parts of a < 12. Man''tling; adj. covering with
body to each other. 1 crimson.

ABSALOM.
Remark. — n reading, be careful not to join the final consonant
of one word to the vowel of the next word, in the following way, viz:
They gathered roun dim on the fresh, green bank,
And spoke their kindly words; an das the sun
Rose upineaven, &c.

Be by articulating distinctly such


careful to avoid this fault,
words in the above, as “ round him” 11 and as,” “ up in heaven ,”
and tlie following and similar words in the lesson, viz Do not say :

bare dis for bared his bow dis for bow’d his wor dsof for words
; ;

of; an dis voi swen tup for and his voice went up.
1. King David’s limbs were weary. He had fled
From far Jerusalem; and now he stood,
With his faint people, for a little rest
Upon the shores of Jordan. The light wind
Of morn was stirring, and he bared his brow
To its refreshing breath for he had worn ;

The + mourner’s covering, and he had not felt


That he could see his people until now.
2. They gathered round him on the fresh, green bank,
And spoke their kindly words and, as the sun ;

Hose up in heaven, he knelt among them there,


And bowed his head upon his hands to pray.
3. O when
! the heart is full, when bitter thoughts
Come crowding thickly up for "^utterance,
And the poor common words of courtesy
!

132 NEW FIFTH READER.


Are such a very + mockery', how much
The bursting heart may pour itself in prayer
4. He prayed for Israel^ ;
and his voice went up'
Strongly and fervently. He prayed for those
Whose love had been his shield' and his deep tone?
;

Grew tremulous'. But, O! for Absalom,


For his estranged + misguided Absalom
, ,

The proud, bright being, who had burst away,


In all his princely beauty, to defy
The heart that cherished him, for him he poured,
In agony that would not be controlled,
Strong supplication, and forgave him there,
Before his God, for his deep sinfulness.

5. The pall was settled. He who slept beneath


Was straightened for the grave; and, as the folds
Sunk to the still proportions, they betrayed
The matchless symmetry of Absalom.
His hair was yet unshorn, and silken curls
Were floating round the 'Tassels as they swayed
To the admitted air, as glossy now,
As when, in hours of gentle dalliance, bathing
The snowy fingers of Judea’s girls.

6. His helm was at his feet his banner', soiled


:

With trailing through Jerusalem', was laid,


Reversed', beside him', and the jeweled hilt',
Whose ^diamonds lit the passage of his blade,
Rested, like mockery', on his covered brow.

7. The soldiers of the king trod to and fro,


Clad in the garb of battle and their chief,
;

The mighty Joab, stood beside the bier,


And gazed upon the dark pall + steadfastly,
As if he feared the slumberer might stir.

8. A slow step startled him. He grasped his blade


As if a trumpet rang; but the bent form
Of David entered, and he gave command,
In a low tone to his few followers,
Who left him with his dead.
! ! ! : : ! !

ECLECTIC SERIES. 133


9.

The king stood still

Till the last '‘'echo died; then, throwing off


The sackcloth from his brow, and laying back
'

The 'pall from the still features of his child,


l

He bowed his head upon him, and broke forth


In the resistless eloquence of woe

10. “Alas! my noble boy, that thou shouldst die!


Thou, who wert made so beautifully fair
That death should settle in thy glorious eye,
And leave his stillness in this + clustering hair!
How could he mark thee for the silent tomb,
My proud boy, Absalom
11. “Cold is thy brow, my son, and I am chill,
As to my bosom I have tried to press thee.
How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill,
Like a rich harp string, +y earning to caress thee,
And hear thy sweet my father from these dumb
‘ ’

And cold lips, Absalom

12. “The grave hath won thee. I shall hear the gush
Of music, and the voices of the young
And life will pass me in mantling blush, its

And the dark Hresses winds flung, to the soft


But thou no more, with thy sweet voice, shalt come
To meet me, Absalom

13. “ And, O when I am stricken, and my heart,


!

Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken,


How will its love for thee, as I depart,
+Yearn for thine ear to drink its last deep token
It were so sweet, amid death’s gathering gloom,
To see thee, Absalom !

14. “And now, farewell ’T is hard to give thee up,


!

With death, so like a gentle + slumber, on thee;


And thy dark sin ! O ! I could drink the cup,
If from this woe its + bitterness
had won thee.
May God have called thee, like a + wanderer, home,

My erring Absalom!
134 *
new fifth reader.
15. He covered up liis face, and bowed himself
A moment on his child then, giving him :

A look of melting tenderness, he clasped


His hand + convulsively, as if in prayer,
And, as a strength were given him of God,
He rose up + calmly, and + composed the pall
Firmly and decently, and left him there,
As if his rest had been a breathing sleep.

EXERCISE XVIII.
Thou waft'st the ships. Thou aclmowledgest thy ciimes. Thou
list' nest to my tale. It exists somewhere. Thou hnewesi that I was
a hard man. Thou wrongest wrongfully.

LESSON XXXYI.

1. Can'o-py; n. a covering over 5. In-scru /ta-ble ;


adj. that can
the head. not be discovered.
2. De'vi-ous; adj. out of the com- 8. Peering; ^.peeping; looking
mon way or track. about narrowly. „

2. Ob-livO-on; n. forgetfulness. 17. Im-pale / ;


v. to fix on a sharp
2. Rit'mi-nate; v. to meditate; to instrument.
think. [fleet. 24. Ae'rie; n. (pro. e'ry ,
or
2. Pon'der; v. to consider; to re- a'ry), the nest of birds of
4. Me-ajCder-ings; n. windings. prey.
5. Turmoil; n. a great stir; trou- 24. Com-pla'cen-cy ;
n. satisfac-
ble. tion.

A MORNING RAMBLE.
Utter distinctly all the consonants in the following words found
in this lesson : frequently, rambling, recline, listlessly, rippling,
branches, abstracted, middle, inscrutable, croaking, cruel, relaps’d,
traps, commingled, grudges, scratch, indispensable, privileges,
giggle, crack, rattlesnake, inaccessible, composedly.

frequently spend a morning in the country,


1. I
+ rambling alone in the melancholy woods; sometimes
resting myself against the bark of a time-worn tree;
ECLECTIC SERIES. 135

sometimes lingering on the woody heights looking far


over the surrounding world. At other times, I recline
listlessly by the side of some clear brook, over whose
rippling way the branches meet, and form nature’s
choicest canopy.
2. Here I indulge my memory and imagination in

a thousand devious wanderings. I recall the distant


shadows of departed time that have, by degrees, faded
almost into oblivion, and send my mind on errands to
the future. At times, I become so completely abstracted
from the scenes around, as to forget where I am, and to
Lose almost the consciousness of being. I ruminate, I
ponder, and I dream.
3. On one of these occasions, about the middle of

the month of August, when the + dog-star rages, and all


nature sinks into a sort of luxurious repose, I had be-
come somewhat tired with a ramble longer than usual,
and laid myself listlessly along the margin of a little
+ twittering stream, that stole its winding way among

the deep obscurities of the wood, ‘•'diffusing coolness, and


inviting to repose.
4. Through the arched canopy of hfoliage that over-
hung the little stream, I could see it coursing its way on
each hand among the rocks, glittering as if by moon-
light, and disappearing thousand meanderings.
after a
It is impossible — atwith me it is impossible to
least —
resist the influence of such a scene. Reflecting beings
like ourselves, sink into a sort of melancholy +reverie,
under the influence of the hallowed quiet that reigns all
around.
5. As I thus lay, in ’’'languid listlessness along the

stream, as quiet as the leaves that breathed not a whis-


per above me, I gradually sunk intc* almost + uncon-
sciousness of all the world and all it holds. The little
birds sported about, careless of my presence, and the
insects pursued that incessant turmoil, which seems
never to cease, until winter lays his icy fetters on all
nature, and drives them into their inscrutable hiding-
places.
6. There is a 'lapse in the recollection of the current
136 NEW FIFTH READER.
of my thoughts at that moment, a short period of for-
getfulness, from which 1 was roused by a hoarse, croak-
ing voice, exclaiming, “ Cruel, savage monster, what
does he here?” I looked all around, and could see only
a hawk seated on the limb of a dry tree, eying me, as I
fancied, with a peculiar expression of hostility.
7. In a few minutes, I again relapsed into a pro-

found reverie, from which I was awakened once more by


a small squeaking whisper, “I dare say the blood-thirsty
villain has been setting traps for us.” I looked again,
and at first sight, could see nothing from which I sup-
posed the voice might proceed, but, at the same time,
imagined that I distinguished a sort of confused whisper,
in which many little voices seemed + commingled.
8. My curiosity was awakened, and peering about

quietly, I found it proceeded from a collection of ani-


mals, birds, and insects, gathered together for some un-
accountable purpose. They seemed very much excited,
and withal in a great passion about something, all
talking at once. Listening + attentively, I could distin-
guish one from the other.
9. “Let us + j)ounce upon the tyrant, and kill him in
his sleep,” cried a bald-eagle: “for he grudges
a me
miserable little lamb now and then, though I do not
require one above once a week. See! where he wounded
me in the wing, so that I can hardly get an honest
living, by prey.”
10. “Let me scratch his eyes out,” screamed a hawk,
“for he will not allow me peaceably to carry off a
chicken from his barn-yard, though I am dying of hun-
ger, and come in open day to claim my natural, indis-
pensable right.”
11. “Ay, ay,” barked the fox, “he interferes in the
same base manner with my privileges, though I visit
his hen-roost in the night, that I may not disturb
him.”
12. “Agreed,” hissed a rattlesnake, “for he won’t
let me bite him, though he knows it is my nature, and
kills me according to Scripture.” And thereupon, he
rattled his tail, curled himself in + spiral volumes, and
ECLECTIC SERIES. 137

darted his tongue at me in the most fearful and threat-


ening manner.
13. “Agreed,” said a great fat spider, which sat in his
net, surrounded by the dead bodies of half a dozen
+ savage takes
insects, “agreed, for the bloody-minded
delight in destroying the fruits of my honest labors, on
all occasions.”
14. “By means,” buzzed a great blue-bottle fly,
all
me tickle his nose, of a hot summer
“for he will not let
day, though he must see with half an eye, that it gives
me infinite satisfaction.”
15. “Kill him,” cried a little ant, that ran foaming
and fretting about at a furious rate, “kill him without
mercy, for he don’t mind treading me into a million of
atoms, a bit more than you do killing a fly,” addressing
the spider. “The less you say about that, the better,”
whispered the spider.
16. “Odds fish!” exclaimed a beautiful trout, that I
should like very much to have caught, popping his head
out of the brook, “Odds fish! kill the monster by all
means; hook him, I say, for he +entices me with worms,
and devours me to gratify his + insatiable appetite.”
17. “ To be worm, “kill him as he sleeps,
sure,” said a
and I’ll eat him afterward; for though I am acknowl-
edged on ^}1 hands to be his brother, he impales me alive
on a hook, only for his '’'amusement.”
18. “I consent,” cooed the dove, “for he has deprived
me of my mate, and made me a + disconsolate widow.”
Upon which, she began to mourn so piteously, that the
whole assembly + sympathized in her forlorn condition.
19. “He has committed a million of murders,” cried
the spider. “He drowns all my kittens,” mewed the
cat. “He tramples upon me without mercy,” whis-
pered the toad, “only because I’m no beauty.” “Ho
is a treacherous, cunning villain,” barked the fox. “He
has no more mercy than a wolf,” screamed the hawk.
“He is a bloody tyrant,” croaked the eagle. “He is
thecommon enemy of all nature, and deserves a hun-
dred and fifty thousand deaths,” exclaimed they all in
one voice.

138 NEW FIFTH READER.
20. I began ashamed of myself, and was
to be heartily
casting about how I away from hearing these
might slip
pleasant + reproaches; but curiosity and listlessness to-
gether kept me quiet, while they continued to + discuss
the best mode of destroying the tyrant. There was, as
is usual in such cases, great + diversity of opinion.

21. “I’ll bury my talons in his brain,” said the eagle.


“I’ll tear his eyes out,” screamed the hawk. “I’ll whip
him to death with my tail,” barked the fox. “I’ll sting
him home,” hissed the rattlesnake. “I’ll poison him,”
said the spider. “I’ll fly-blow him,” buzzed the fly.
“I’ll drown him, if he’ll only come into my brook, so I
will,” quoth the trout.
22. “I will drag him into my hole, and do his business
there, I warrant,” said the ant; and thereupon there
was a giggle among the whole set. “And I ’ll I’ll” —
said the worm. “What will you do, you poor Satan?”
exclaimed the rest in a titter. “What will I do? Why,
I ’ll eat him after he is dead,” replied sir worm and then
;

he strutted about, until he + unwarily came so near, that


he slipped into the brook, and was snapped up in a
moment by the trout.
23. The. example was + contagious. “O, ho! you are
for that sport,” mewed the cat, and clawed the trout be-
fore he could get his head under water. “Tit for tat,”
barked Reynard, and snatching pussy in his teeth, was
off like a shot. “Since ’tis the fashion,” said the spider,
“I’ll have a crack at that same blue-bottle,” and there-
upon he nabbed the poor fly in a twinkling. “By your
leave,” said the toad, and snapped up the spider in less
than no time. “You ugly thief of the world,” hissed
the rattlesnake in great wrath, and + indignantly laying
hold of the toad, managed to swallow him about half
way, where he lay in all his glory.
24. “What a nice morsel for my poor fatherless ones,”
cooed the dove, and pecking at the ant, was just flying
away with it in quite a ^sentimental style, when the
hawk, seeing this, screamed out, “what a pretty plump
dove for a dinner! Providence has ^ordained that I
should eat her.” He was carrying her off, when the
;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 139

eagle darted upon him, and soaring to his aerie on the


summit of an inaccessible rock, composedly made a meal
of both hawk and
dove. Then picking his teeth with
his claws, he exclaimed with great complacency, “What

a glorious thing it is to be king of birds !

25. “ITumph,” exclaimed I, rubbing my eyes, for it


seemed I had been half-asleep, “humph, a man is not so
much worse than his neighbors, after all;” and shaking
otf the spell that was over me, bent my steps homeward,
+ wondering why it was, that it seemed as if all living

things were created for the sole purpose of + preying on


one another.
Exercises . —By what authority does man hold dominion over
animals? Does this include the right to torture them, or to kill them
unnecessarily? Under what circumstan^s is it right to kill them?
On what account are the animals, in this fable, supposed to be in-
censed at man?

LESSON XXXVII.

1. OAR'NER-eD; adj. laid up; i 4. Rife; adj. full; abounding.


treasured. < 4. Dim'ples; n. small depres-
3. Stubs; n. knobs; buds. ? sions.
3. CleaVing; adj. dividing. £
4. Am'ber; adj. yellow.

APRIL DAY.
Remark . —When reading poetry that rhymes, there should be a
very slight pause after the words that are similar in sound, though
the sense may not require it, as in the following example, where a
slight pause may be made after the word rest, which would not be
made, if it were prose instead of poetry.

Sweet it is, at eve to rest


On the flowery meadow’s breast.

Pronounce correctly. Do not say na-ter for nat-ure; creat-shure


for creat-ure; bo for bough, (pro. bou); con-tin-y-ous for con-tin-w-
ous; frag-rance for.fra-grance.

1. All day, the low-hung clouds have dropped


Their garnered fullness down
6th Rd. 12.
. ; —
! ; ;

140 NEW FIFTH READER.


wrapt
All day, that soft, gray mist hath
and town.
Hill, valley, grove,
There has not been a sound to-day,
To break the calm of nature
Nor motion, I might almost say,
Of life or living creature
Of waving + bough, or + warbling bird,
Or cattle faintly + lowing;
I could have half-believed I heard
The leaves and blossoms growing.

2. I stood to —
hear I love it well
The rain’s + continuous sound;
Small drops, but thick and fast they fell,

Down straight into the ground.


For leafy thickness is not yet'
Earth’s nakod breast to + screen,
Though every dripping branch is set
With shoots of tender green.

3 Sure, since I looked, at early morn,


Those + honeysuckle buds
Have swelled to double growth that thorn ;

Hath put forth larger studs.


That lilac’s cleaving + cones have burst,
The milk-white flowers + revealing
Even now upon my senses first,

Metliinks their sweets are stealing.

i The very earth, the steamy air,


Are all with + fragrance rife
And grace and beauty every -where
Are bursting into life.
Down, down they come, those + fruitful stores,
Those earth-rejoicing drops!
A '•’momentary + deluge pours,
Then thins, decreases, stops.
And ere the dimples on the stream
Have circled out of sight,
Lo from the west,
! a parting + gleam
Breaks forth of amber light.

ECLECTIC SERIES. 141
Exercises .
What season is described in this lesson? What is

said concerning the rain? What, concerning the appearance of the


earth’s surface? What is said of the trees and shrubs? What, of the
light?

At what pauses in this lesson is the rising inflection proper?


Where, the falling inflection?
In the fourth stanza, which are the adjectives? What does “rife”
qualify? Parse “stores” and “drops.” Which are the adverbs in
the same stanza? Which are the verbs? Which of them are in the
indicative mode? Which are in the present tense? Which, in a past
tense? What interjection is there in this stanza? Why is the inter-
jection so called ? See Pinneo’s Analytical Grammar, page 20, .Art. 55.

LESSON XXXVIII.

1. Tem'per-^d; ad?, softened. I 4. Pa-vii/ion; m. a tent; here a

3. E-tjo/re-al; adj. heavenly; ? kind of tower on the top of


formed of ether. \ the castle.
3. Se-ren'i-ty; n. calmness; qui- ! 4. Par'a-pet; n. a wall or eleva-
etness. [
tion raised to keep off shot.
3. Buoy'an-cy; n. (pro. bwoy-an-
j
5. Cas'ta-net; n. an instrument
cy), lightness. e of music made of hollowed
3. En-chant / ment ;
n. the use of > ivory shells.
spells or charms. < 5. Cav-a-lier'; n. a gay military
3. Col-on-nades'; n. rows of col- > man; a knight.
umns. s 6. Rev'er-ie; n. a loose, irregu-
3. Ra'di-ance ;
??. brightness. £
lar train of thought.

THE ALHAMBRA BY MOONLIGHT.


The palace or castle called the Alhambra, consists of the remains
of a very extensive and ancient pile of buildings in Spain, erected
by the Moors when they were rulers of the country.
Articulate distinctly. Do not say pro-duce for pro-duced; ivich
for wAich wen for wAen
; ;
per-fec-ly for per-feci-ly ;
wite-ness for
wAite-ness; soun’s for sounds ;
pal’ ces for pal-a-ces.

I have given a picture of my + apartment on my


1.

first taking possession of it: a few evenings have pro-


duced a thorough change in the scene and in my feel-
ings. The moon, which then was invisible, has grad-
142 NEW FIFTH READER.
ually gained upon the nights, and now rolls in full
+ splendor above the towers, jDOuring a flood of tempered
light into every court and hall. The garden beneath
my window is gently lighted up the orange and citron
;

trees are tipped with silver the fountain sparkles in the


;

moonbeams and even the blush of the rose is faintly


;

visible.
2. I have sat for hours at my window, + inhaling the

sweetness of the garden, and musing on the tcheckered


features of those, whose history is dimly shadowed out
in the elegant ’’memorials around. Sometimes, I have
issued forth at midnight, when every thing was quiet,
and have wandered over the whole building. Who can
do justice to a moonlight night in such a climate, and in
such a place ?
3. The + temperature of an Andalusian midnight in

summer, is perfectly ethereal. We seem lifted up into a


purer atmosphere; there is a serenity of soul, a buoy-
ancy of spirits, an elasticity of frame, that render mere
existence enjoyment. The effect of moonlight, too, on
the Alhambra, has something like enchantment. Every
rent and chasm of time, every + moldering tint and
weather stain, disappears; the marble resumes its orig-
inal whiteness; the long colonnades brighten in the
moonbeams; the halls are illuminated with a softened
radiance, until the whole + edifice reminds one of the
"’'enchanted palace of an Arabian tale.
4. At such a time, I have ascended to the little pavil-

ion, called the queen’s toilet, to enjoy its varied and


extensive prospect. To the right, the snowy summits
of the Sierra Nevada would gleam, like silver clouds,
against the darker firmament, and all the outlines of the
mountain would be softened, yet delicately defined. My
delight, however, would be to lean over the parapet of
Tecador, and gaze down upon Grenada, spread out like
a map below me all buried in deep repose, and its white
;

palaces and convents sleeping, as it were, in the moon-


shine.
5. Sometimes, I would hear the faint sounds of cas-
tanets from some party of dancers lingering in the Ala-
; ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 143

meda; have heard the ^dubious notes


at other times, I
of a guitar, and the notes of a single voice rising from
some + solitary street, and have pictured to myself some
youthful cavalier, ^serenading his lady’s window; a gal-
lant ’'’custom of former days, but now sadly on the de-
+
cline, except in the remote towns and villages of Spain.
6. Such are the scenes that have detained me for

many an hour loitering about the courts and balconies


of the castle, enjoying that mixture of reverie and + sen-
sation which steal away existence in a southern climate,
and it has been almost morning before I have retired to
my bed, and been ^lulled to sleep by the falling waters
of the fountain of Lindaraxa.
Exercises. —What and where is the Alhambra? Describe the
effect of moonlight upon its appearance. Where are the mountains
which are called Sierra Nevada? Where is Andalusia? What is

the national instrument of the Spaniards?

LESSON XXXIX.
1. Waii/ing; adj. lamenting; ? 8. Glade; n. an open place in tho
mourning. < forest.
1. Sear; adj. dry; withered. \
3. Glen; n. a valley; a dale.

THE DEATH OF THE -FLOWERS.


Pronounce Do not say mel-un-chul-y for mel-an-chol-y
correctly.
mead-ers for mead-ows ;
hot-luz for hol-lom ; bcau-che-ous for beau-
ie-ous; up-lund for up-land; youth-f'l for youth-fwl; cole for cola?;
mois for moisi; frien for friena?; Jlow-uz for flow-e?\s.

1. The + melancholy days are come,


The saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds, and naked woods,
And ‘meadows, brown and sear.
Heaped in the hollows of the grove,
The withered leaves lie dead
They rustle to the + eddying gust,
And to the rabbit’s tread.
The robin and the wren have flown,
; ; ;

144 NEW FIFTH READER.


And from the shrub the jay,
And from the wood-top calls the crow
Through all the gloomy day.

2. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers,


That sprang and stood
lately
In brighter light and softer airs,
A '‘'beauteous + sisterhood?
Alas ! they all are in their graves
The gentle race of flowers,
Are lying in their lowly beds,
With the fair and good of ours.
The rain is falling where they lie,
But the cold hTov ember rain
Calls not from out the gloomy earth
The lovely ones again.
3. The wall -flower and the violet,
They perished long ago,
And the brier -rose and the + orchis died
Amid the summer's glow
But on thehill, the golden-rod,

And the aster in the wood,


And the yellow sunflower by the brook
In autumn beauty stood,
from the clear, cold heaven,
Till fell the frost
As falls the plague on men,
And the brightness of their smile was gone
From + upland, glade, and glen.
4. And now when comes the calm, mild day,
,

As still such days will come,


To call the squirrel and the bee
From out their winter home
When the sound of dropping nuts is heard,
Though all the trees are still,
And + twinkle in the + smoky light
The waters of the + rill,
The south wind + searches for the flowers
Whose + fragrance late he bore,
And sighs to find them in the wood
And by the stream no more.
— ; :

ECLECTIC SERIES. 145

5. And then I think of one, who in


Her youthful beauty died,
The fair, meek + blossom that grew up
And Haded by my side
In the cold, moist earth we laid her,
When the forest cast the leaf,
And we wept that one so lovely
Should have a life so + brief
Yet not "’unmeet it was that one,
Like that young friend of ours,
So gentle and so "’'beautiful,
Should + perish with the flowers.

Exercises. What season of the year is described? What is

said of the wind, and woods, and meadows? What animals are
spoken of? What flowers? To what does the last stanza refer?

LESSON XL.

1 . Req'ui-site; n. (pro. rek'wi-zit), l 4 . Per-vert'ed; v. turned from


that which is necessary. i right to wrong.

3 Su-PER-iN-nuc'eD
. v. brought in 4 . In-vii/ci-ble ;
adj. not to be
;
^
as an addition. < overcome.
3 . Ac-qui-si'tions ;
n. qualities ? 8. Criticism; n. the art of judg-
obtained. > ing with propriety.

ON ELOCUTION AND READING.


Pronounce correctly. Do not say el-er-qunce for el-o-quence;
in-val-ew-lle for in-val-w-a-ble ;
at-ti-toods nor at-ti-tshudes for atti-
tudes; or-it-uz for or-a-tors ;
in-tel-lect-ew-al for in-tel-lect-w-al ;
con-
tin-ew-al for con-tin-w-al.

Articulate each letter in the following words found in this


lesson : Do not say mus for must ;
leace for least ; faulce for faults ;

sepra-ted for sep-a-ra-ted ;


chile for child; presence for pre-sente;
nex for next; fi-nes for fi-nes t; per-fec for per-fect.

1. The business of training our youth in + elocution,


must be commenced in childhood. The first school is
! ;

146 NEW FIFTH READER.


the nursery. There, at least, may be formed a distinct
+ artieulation, whichis the first requisite fol* good speak-

ing. How rarely is it found in perfection among our


orators
2. Words, says one, referring to articulation, should

“be delivered out from the lips, as beautiful coins, new-


ly issued from the mint; deeply and accurately im-
pressed, perfectly finished; neatly struck by the proper
organs, distinct, in due '^succession, and of due weight.”
How rarely do we hear a speaker whose tonguev teeth v , ,

and lips', dp their office so perfectly as to answer to


this beautiful descriptionAnd the common faults in
!

articulation, should be remembered, take their rise


it

fyom the very nursery. But let us refer to other par-


ticulars.
3. Grace in
+ eloquence, in the pulpit, at the bar, can

not be separated from grace in the ordinary manners, in


private life, in the social circle, in the family. It can
not well be superinduced upon all the other acquisitions
of youth, any more than that nameless, but invaluable
quality, called good breeding. You may, therefore,
begin the work of forming the orator with your child
not merely by teaching him to declaim, but what is of
more + consequence, by observing and correcting his
daily manners, motions, and attitudes.
4. You can say, when he comes into your "^apartment,

or presents you with something, a book or letter, in an


awkward and blundering manner, “Return v and enter,

this room again v ,” or, “Present me that book in a dif-


ferent manner v ,” or, “Put yourself into a different atti-
tude^” You can explain to him the difference between
thrusting or pushing out his hand and arm, in straight
lines and at acute angles, and moving them in flowing,
'^circular lines,and easy, graceful action. He will read-
ily understand you. Nothing is more true than that
“the motions of children are + originally graceful;” and
it is by suffering them to be perverted'', that we lay the

foundation for invincible + awkwardness in later life.


5. We go, next, to the schools for children. It ought
to be a leading object, in these schools, to teach the art
\

ECLECTIC SERIES. 147

of reading. It ought to occupy more time than


threefold
it does. The teachers of these schools should labor to
improve themselves. They should feel, that to them, for
a time, are committed the future + orators of the land.
6. We would rather have a child, even of the other

sex, return to us from school a first-rate reader than a ,

first-rate performer on the piano-forte. We should feel


that we had a far better pledge for the + intelligence and
talent v of our child. The accomplishment, in its per-
fection, would give more pleasure. The voice of song is
not sweeter than the voice of eloquence and there may ;

be eloquent- readers', as well as eloquent speakers '

7. We speak of perfection^ in this art and it is some- :

thing, we must say in defense of our preference, which


we have never yet seen. Let the same pains be devoted
to reading, as are required to form an accomplished per-
former on an instrument; let us have, as the ancients
had, the formers of the voice, the music-masters of the
reading voice; let us see years devoted to this accom-
plishment, and then we should be prepared to stand the t

'•'comparison.
8. It is, indeed, a most '•'intellectual accomplishment.

So is music, too, in its perfection. We do by no means


+ undervalue this noble and most delightful art,
to which
Socrates applied himself, even in his old age. But one
^recommendation of the art of reading is, that it requires
a constant exercise of mind. It involves in its perfec-
tion, the whole art of criticism on language. A man
may possess a fine genius without being a perfect reader;
but he can not be a perfect reader without genius.
Exercises. — When must the business of training in elocution
be commenced? What excellent comparison is employed to illustrate

a good articulation? What is the. relative importance of good read-


ing? How does the power of reading with perfection compare with
the power of excellent musical performance?
Explain the inflections marked in this lesson.
In the first sentence which word is the subject? Which words are
in the objective case? Which are the prepositions? In the last sen-
tence,which words are in the objective case? Which are .the verbs,
and in what mode are they? Which are the modes? See Pinneo’s
Analytical Grammar, page 64, Art. 154.
5th Rd. 13.
148 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON XLI.

1. Ar^Chi-tects; n. (pro. ark'e- \


5. Connor; n. a large bird.
tects), builders; makers. I 5. Em-pyr'e-al ;
adj. relating to
1. Des'ti-nies; n. ultimate fate; t the highest and purest region
appointed condition. > of the heavens.
2. Me-di-oc'ri-ty; n. a middle s 6. Ca-reer'ing; adj. moving rap-
state, or degree of talents. ? idly.
2. Me'di-o-cre; n. (pro. me'di-o- > 6. Prow'ess; n. bravery; bold-
ker ), a man of moderate s ness.
talents. ? 6. A-chieve /ments; n. something
4. Fi'at ;
n. a decree. > accomplished by exertion.

NO EXCELLENCE WITHOUT LABOR.


Utter each sound distinctly. Do not say cKrac-ter for char-
ac-ter; dif'rent for dif-fer-ent; op' site for op-po-site; emnunce for
em-?-nence; in-vig ra-ted for in-vig-o-rat-ed; vigrous for vig-or-ous.

1. The + education, moral and + intellectual, of every


individual, must Eely upon
be, chiefly, his own work.
it, that the ancients were right; both in morals and
intellect, we give the final shape to our characters, and
thus become, + emphatically,
the architects of our own
fortune. How happen, that young nTen,
else could it
who have had + precisely the same opportunities, should
be continually presenting us with such different results,
and rushing to such opposite destinies?
2. Difference of talent will not solve it, because that

difference is very often in favor of the disappointed can :


didate. You will see issuing from the walls of the same
college, nay, sometimes from the bosom of the same
family, two young men, of whom one will be admitted
to be a genius of high order, the other scarcely above
the point of mediocrity; yet you will see the genius
sinking and perishing in poverty, + obscurity, and
wretchedness; while, on the other hand, you will ob-
serve the mediocre plodding his slow but sure way up
the hill of life, gaining steadfast footing at every step,

ECLECTIC SERIES. 149

and mounting, at length, to + eminence and distinction,


an ornament to his family, a blessing to his country.
3. Now, whose work is this?
+ Manifestly their own.

They are the architects of their respective fortunes.


The best seminary of learning that can open its portals
to you, can do no more than to afford you the + oppor’
tunity of instruction: but it must depend, at last, on
yourselves, whether you will be instructed or not, or to
what point you will push your 'Instruction.
4. And of this be assured, I speak from + observation

a certain truth there is no excellence without great


:

labor. It is the fiat of fate, from which no power of


genius can absolve you.
5. Genius, unexerted, is like the poor moth that flub

ters around a candle, till it scorches itself to death. If


genius be desirable at alF, it is only of that great and
'''magnanimous kind, which, like the condor of South
America, pitches from the summit of + Chimborazo, above
the clouds, and sustains itself at pleasure, in that em-
pyreal region, with an energy rather + invigorated than
weakened by the efforts
6. It is this capacity for high and long-continued

exertion v this + vigorous power of profound and search-


,

ing 'Investigation^ this careering and wide-spreading


+ comprehension of mindv and these long +
,
reaches of
thought, that

“ Pluck bright honor from the pale-faced moon,


Or dive into the bottom of the deep,
And drag up drowned honor by the locks'; ”

thisis the prowess', and these the hardy achievements,

which are to enroll your names among the great men


of the earth.

Exercises .
Whose work is man? What
the education of evei’y
d’id the ancients say upon this point? By what reasoning does the
writer prove this to be the case? What, then, is required to secure
excellence?

Explain the inflections marked in this lesson.


; ;

150 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON XLII.

1. In-ex7 o-ra-ble ;
adj. that can 6. Har / bin-ger; n. that which
not be made to bend. precedes and gives notice
1. Des'pot-ism ;
n. absolute, un- beforehand of any thing.
controlled power. 7. Re-verse7 v. to turn to the
;

1. Per-pe-ti/i-ty n. continued, contrary.


uninterrupted existence. 7. A-nai/o-gy; n. resemblance
3. A-loof 7 adv. at a distance.
;
between things.
3. Vor'tex; n. a whirling motion 8. Im 7 mi-nence; n. a hanging
of water ;
a whirlpool. over.
4. Suffrage; n. vote given in 10. Spasms; n.
]
violent
choosing men for office. 10. Con-vui/sions ;
ft. j and ir-

5. Fore-boding; n. a foretell- regular contraction of the


ing. muscles of the body.
6. Found'er-ing; n. being filled 10 Ex-tort 7 ;
v. to wring or force
with water and sinking. out of.

NECESSITY OF EDUCATION.
Pronounce correctly. Do not say ed-dy-cate nor ej-ju-cate for

cd-u-cate; spiles for spoils; vic-ter-y for vic-to-ry; pop-py-la-tion


for pop-u-la-tion ;
man-y-fac-ters for man-w-fact-i(res; ag-ri-cul-ter

nor ag-ri-cid-tshure for ag-ri-cult-wre ;


prov-i-dunce for prov-i-dence
ub-an-don for a-ban-don; prov-er-ca-tion for prov-o-ca-tion ;
spas-ums
for spasms.

1 We must + educatev
. e must educate' or we ! W !

must perish by our own prosperity'. If we do not'


short will he our race from the cradle to the grave. If,
in our haste to be rich and mighty', we outrun our lite-
rary and religious institutions, they will never overtake
us; or only come up after the battle of liberty is fought
and lost, as spoils to '''grace the victory, and as '''re-
sources of inexorable despotism for the perpetuity of
our bondage.
2. But what will become of the West, if her pros-
perity" rushes up to such a majesty of power, while those
great "^institutions linger which are necessary to form
the mind, and the + conscience, and the heart of the vast
ECLECTIC SERIES. 151

world? It must not be permitted. And yet what is


done must be done quickly, for population will not wait'',
and '‘commerce will not cast anchor', and manufactures
will not shut off the steam', nor shut down the gate,
and agriculture, pushed by millions of freemen on their
fertile soil, will not withhold her corrupting abund-
(

ancev .

3. And let no man and


at the East quiet himself,
dream of liberty, whatever may become of the West.
Our + alliance of blood, and political institutions, and-
common interests, is such, that we can
not stand aloof
in the hour of her calamity, should it ever come. Her '
destiny is ourv destiny; and the day that her gallant
ship goes down, our little boat sinks in the vortex!
4. The great experiment is now making, and from its
extent and rapid filling up, is making in the West,
whether the perpetuity of our republican institutions
can be + reconciled with universal suffrage. Without
the education of the headv and heartv of the nation,
they can not be; and the question to be decided is,
can the nation, or the vast balance power of it, be so
imbued with intelligence and virtue as to bring out,
in laws and their administration, a perpetual self-pre-
serving energy. We know that the work is a vast one,
and of great difficulty; and yet we believe it can be
done.
5. I am aware that our ablest patriots are looking out

on the deep, vexed with storms, with great forebodings


and failings of heart, for fear of the things that are com-
ing upon us and I perceive a spirit of + impatience
;

rising, and distrust in respect to the perpetuity of our


republic; and I am sure that these fears are well found-
ed, and am glad that they exist. It is the star of hope
in our dark + horizon. Fear is what we need, as the ship
needs wind on a rocking sea, after a storm, to prevent
foundering. But when our fear and our efforts shall
+ correspond with our danger, the danger is past.

6. For it is not the impossibility of self-preservation

which threatens' us; nor is it the unwillingness of the


nation to pay the price of the preservation ', as she has
!

152 NEW FIFTH READER.


paid the price of the purchase v of our liberties. It is
'

inattentionand inconsideration protracted till the crisis is


,

past, and the things which belong to our peace are hid
from our eyes. And blessed be G-od, that the tokens of
a national waking up., the harbinger of God’s mercy, are
multiplying upon us
7. We did not, in the darkest hour, believe that God

had brought our fathers to this goodly land to lay the


foundation of religious liberty, and wrought such won-
ders in their preservation, and raised their descendants ,
to such heights of civil and religious liberty, only to re-
verse the analogy of his + providence, and abandon his
work.
8. And though there now be clouds, and the sea
roaring, and men’s hearts failing, we believe there is
light behind the cloud, and that the imminence of our
danger is intended, under the guidance of Heaven, to
call forth and apply a holy, + fraternal fellowship be-
tween the. East and the West, which shall secure our
preservation, and make the + prosperity of our nation
durable as time, and $s abundant as the waves of the sea.
9. I would add, as a motive to immediate action, that,

ifwe do fail in our great + experiment of self-govern-


ment, our destruction will be as signal as the birthright
abandoned, the mercies abused, and the + provocation
Heaven. The descent of desolation
offered to beneficent
will correspond with the past elevation.
10. Ho punishments of Heaven are so severe as those
for mercies abusedv and no instrumentality employed
;

in their infliction is so dreadful as the w^rath of man v .

Ho spasms are like the spasms of expiring liberty, and


no + wailing such as her convulsions extort.
11. It took Home three hundred years to die v and ;

our death, if we perish, will be as much more terrific,


as our intelligence and free institutions have given us
more bone, sinew, and vitality. May God hide from me
the day when the dying agonies of my country shall
begin v !O, thou beloved land', bound together by the
ties of brotherhood', and common interest', and perils'!
live forever —one and undivided v !
W

ECLECTIC SERIES. 168


Exercises. — hy is education so necessary in this country?
Can the nation continue free, without the influence of education and
religion? Why should we regard the prospects of this nation with
fear? What can be the advantage of a spirit of fear? Why may
we trust that God will not abandon our nation to ruin? What will
insure her destruction? What is said of the greatness of such a
destruction? What are the most dreadful punishments that Heaven
can inflict upon a nation ? How would our destruction compare with
that of Rome ?
Give the reasons for the inflections marked in the 2d paragraph.
(The principle of negative sentences prevails in this sentence.)
In what mode, tense, number, and person, is “must educate,” in
the first sentence? In the 3d paragraph, for what noun does the
pronoun 11
her" stand? Parse the last word in the lesson.

i HI
LESSON XLIII.

2. O'nyx; n. a gem partly trans- ] 2. Cor'al; n. a kind of animal


parent. { and its shell, [lowish color.
2. Sap'phire; n. (pro. saf'fer), < 2. To'paz; n. a gem of a yel-
/
a precious stone, blue, red, $ 5. Ad-just ed; v. settled; reduced
violet, &c. > to a right standard.
2. Crystal; n. a regular solid <
5 . Pre-scrib^d; v. laid down as
of any mineral. < rules.

TRUE WISDOM.
Pronounce correctly. Do not say pur-chis'd for pur-chas’d;
jules for jewels; co-rul for cor-al; dis-truc-tion for d^-struc-tion.

1. Where shall + wisdom be foundv ?


And where is the place of '''understanding'' ?

Man knoweth not the price thereof;


Nor can it be found in the land of the living.

2. The deep saith^, It is not with mes ;

And the sea saith ", It is not with me v .

It can not he gotten for gold,


Nor shall silver be weighed out as the price thereof.
It ean not he + purehased with the gold of Ophir,
W d ; ;

154 NEW FIFTH READER.


With the precious onyx, or the sapphire.
Gold and crystal are not to he compared with it
Nor can it be purchased with jewels of tine gold, .

No mention shall be made of coral, or of pearls,


For wisdom is more precious than rubies.
The topaz of Ethiopia can not equal it;
Nor can it be purchased with the purest gold.

3. Whence, then, comethv


wisdom?
And where isv the place of + understanding?
Since it is hidden from the eyes of all the living,

And kept close from the fowls of the air?

4. + Destruetionand Death say,


We have heard of its fame with our ears.
God only knoweth the way to it
He only knoweth its dwelling-place.
For he seeth to the ends of the earth,
And + surveyeth all things under the whole heaven.
5. When he gave the winds their weighty
Andadjusted the waters by measure v ;

When he prescribed laws to the rain v ,

And a path to the +glittering +th under-bolt';


Then did he see and make it known v
it, :

He ^established and + searched it out:


it,

But he said unto man,


Behold! the fear of the Lord v that is thy wisdom, ,

And to + depart from + evil, thy understanding.


Exercises .
— here is Ethiopia ? What is true wisdom ? Can
it he purchased ? Where can it he obtained?

EXERCISE XIX.
Their shouts now trebly swell' the gale. The trellis was cov-
ered with trailers. The trustle was trundl'd in. The shout of
triumph and the trump of fame.
T

ECLECTIC SERIES. 155

LESSON XLI V.

1. Mod-i-fi-ca /tion; n. a particu- 5. Vi'tals; n. parts of the body


lar form or manner. necessary to life.

1. Av'e-nue; n. an entrance. 8. Hectic; adj. habitual; con-


2. In'va-lid; n. a person who is stitutional.
sick. 9. Par'ox-ysms; n. severe turns
4. Fran'tic; adj. characterized or fits.

by violence and fury. 9. E-vinc/cd; v. made evident.

6. E-merg'cd; v. reappeared; 11. Ghastly; adj. death-like;


came out of. 14. Wail ;.m. loud weeping, [pale.

THE INTEMPERATE HUSBAND.


Remark.— ake care not to let the voice grow weaker and
weaker, as you approach the end of the sentence.

Articulate correctly. Do not say full-es for full-esf; suf-rin


for suf fer ing; sur-es for sur-es£ ; un-feel-in for un-feel-iny; frens
for friends; leau-tifl'y for beau-ti-fwl-ly ;
ga-zin for gaz ing; vi-er-
lits for vi-o-lets ;
ag er-ni zing for ag-o-niz-ing ;
fea-ters nor fea-tshures
for feat- w res.

1. There was one modification of her husband’s


’'persecutions, measure of Jane Har-
which the fullest
wood’s piety could not enable her to bear unmoved.
This was unkindness to her feeble and suffering* boy.
It was at first commenced as the surest mode of '•'dis-
tressing her. It opened a direct avenue to her heart.
2. What began in + perverseness, seemed to end in

hatred, as evil habits sometimes create + perverted + prin-


ciples. The wasted invalid shrunk from his father's
glance and footstep, as from the approach of a foe.
More than once had he taken him from the little bed
which maternal care had provided for him, and forced
him to go forth in the cold of the winter storm.
3. “I mean to harden him,” said he. “All the
+ neighbors know that you make such a fool of him, that

he will never be able to get a living. For my part, I


wish I had never been called to the trial of supporting a
156 NEW FIFTH READER.
useless boy, who pretends to be sick only that he may
be + coaxed by a silly mother.”
4. On such occasions, it was in vain that the mother

attempted to protect her child. She could neither


shelter him in her bosom, nor control the frantic vio-
lence of the father. Harshness, and the agitation of
fear, deepened a disease which might else have yielded.
The timid boy, in terror of his natural + protector, with-
ered away like a + blighted flower. It was of no avail
that friends ^remonstrated with the unfeeling parent, or
that hoary-headed men warned him + solemnly of his

sins. Intemperance had destroyed his respect for man,


and his fear of God.
5. Spring at length emerged from the shades of that

heavy and bitter winter. But its smile brought no glad-


ness to the declining child. + Consumption fed upon his
vitals, and his nights were full of pain.
6. ‘‘Mother, I wish I could smell the violets that
grew upon the green bank by our dear old home.” “It
is too early for violets, my child. But the grass is beau-
tifully green around us, and the birds sing sweetly, as if
their hearts were full of praise.”
7. “ In my dreams last night, I saw the clear waters

of the brook that ran by the bottom of my little garden.


I wish I could taste them once more. And I heard such
music, too, as used to come from that white church
among the trees, where every Sunday the happy people
meet to worship God.
8. The mother knew that the hectic fever had been
10.
long increasing, and saw there was such an unearthly
brightness in his eye, that she feared his ’''intellect wan-
dered. She seated herself on his low bed, and bent over
him to sootheand compose him. He lay silent for some
time.
9. “Ho you think my father will come?” Dreading
the + agonizing ^agitation which, in his paroxysms of
coughing and pain, he evinced at the sound of his
father’s well-known footstep, she answered “I think
not, love. You had better try to sleep.”
“Mother, I wish he would come. I do not feel

. ECLECTIC SERIES. 157

afraid now. Perhaps he would let me lay my cheek to


'his once more, as he used to do when I was a babe in
my grandmother’s arms. I should be glad to say good-
by to I go to my Savior.”
him before
11.Gazing ^intently in his face, she saw the work of
the destroyer, in lines too plain to be mistaken. “My
son, my dear son, say, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.”
“Mother,” he replied, with a sweet smile upon his ghast-
ly features, “he is ready. I desire to go to him. Hold
the baby to me, that I may kiss her. That is all.
Now sing to me, and O! wrap me close in your arms,
for I shiver with cold.”
12. He clung, with a death grasp, to that bosom
which had long been his sole earthly + refuge. “Sing
louder, dear mother, a little louder, I can not hear you.”
A tremulous tone, as of a broken harp, rose above her
grief, to comfort the dying child. One sigh of icy
breath was upon her cheek, as she joined it to his: one
shudder, and all was over.
13. She held the body long in her arms, as if fondly
hoping to warm and restore it to life with her breath.
Then she stretched it upon his bed, and kneeling beside
it, hid her face in that grief which none but mothers

feel. It was a deep and sacred + solitude, alone with the


dead. Nothing save the soft breathing of the sleeping
babe fell upon that solemn pause.
14. Then the silence was broken by a wail of piercing
sorrow. It ceased, and a voice arose, a voice of + sup-
plication for strength to endure, as of one “seeing Him
who is invisible.” Faith closed what was begun in
weakness. It became a prayer of thanksgiving to Him
who had released the dove-like spirit from the prison-
house of pain, that it might taste the peace and mingle
in the melody of heaven.

Exercises. What is the subject of this piece? How did the


man treat his child? What effect was, in this way, produced on the
health of the child? Can you describe the scene of the death-bed?
What did the child dream about? What did he wish to say to his

father ?
W

158 NEW FIFTH READER.

.LESSON XL V.

2. E-ma'ci-a-ted ;
adj. thin; re- \ 10. In-di-ca'tions ;
n. tokens:
cluced in flesh. S signs.
2. Sway; n. power; influence. < 10. Transient; adj. of short du-

3. Se-clud'ed; adj. retired; lone- ration.


j

ty-
|
11. CiiAs'TEN-en ;
(pro. cha'snd ),
4. Mod /u-la-teD ;
v. adapted to «$'. afflicted for correction.
j
the expression of feeling; n. Do-min'ion; n. controlling
varied. \
influence.

THE INTEMPERATE HUSBAND.— Continued.


Re m a r k. —
hile each pupil reads, let the rest observe, and then
mention which syllables are pronounced incorrectly, and which omit-
ted or indistinctly sounded.

Articulate distinctly. Do not say shi-nin for shin-in^; al-moce


for al-mosi; memries for mem-o-ries; heal-in for heal-iny ;
ole-es

for olrf-esi ; revrent-h) for rev-cr-ent-ly ;


witlirin for with-er-in^;
slcct-ed for se-lect-ed ;
fune-ral for fu-ner-al ;
pcr-ninent for per-ma-
nent ;
in-t\rest-cd for in-ter-est-ed.

1. She arose from her supplication, and bent calmly

over the dead. The thin, placid features wore a smile,


as when he had spoken of Jesus. She + composed the
shining locks around the pure forehead, and gazed long
on what was to her so beautiful. Tears had vanished
from her eyes, and in their stead was an expression
almost sublime, as of one who had given an angel back
to God.
2. The father entered + carelessly. She pointed to the
pallid, 'Immovable brow. u See, he suffers no longer.”

He drew near, and looked on the dead with surprise


and sadness. A few natural tears forced their way, and
fell on the face of the first-born, who was once his pride.

The memories of that moment were bitter. He spoke


tenderly to the emaciated mother; and she, who a short
time before was raised above the sway of grief, wept
like an infant, as those few + affectionate tones touched
the sealed fountains of other years.
ECLECTIC SERIES. 159

3. Neighbors and friends visited them, desirous to


console their sorrow, and attended them when they com-
mitted the body to the earth. There was a shady and
secluded spot, which they had + consecrated by the
burial of their few dead. Thither that whole little
colony were gathered, and, seated on the fresh grass,
listened to the holy, healing words of the inspired
volume.
4. It was read by the oldest man in the colony, whe

had himself often mourned. As he bent reverently over


the sacred page, there was that on his brow, which
seemed to say, “This has been my comfort in my afflic-
tion.” Silver hairs thinly covered his temples, and his
low voice was modulated by feeling, as he read of the
Hrailty of man, withering like the flower of the grass,
before it groweth up; and of His majesty, in whose sight
“a thousand years are as yesterday when it is past, and
as a watch in the night.”
5. He selected from the words of that compassionate

One, who “gathereth the lambs with his arm, and car-
rieth them in his bosom,” who, pointing out as an exam-
ple the humility of little children, said, “Except ye be-
come as one of these, ye can not enter the kingdom of
heaven,” and who calleth all the weary and heavy laden
to come unto Him that He may give them rest.
6. The scene called forth
+ sympathy, even
from
manly bosoms. The mother, worn with watching and
weariness, bowed her head down to the clay which con-
cealed her child. And it was observed with gratitude
by that friendly group, that the husband supported her
in his arms, and mingled his tears with hers.
7. He returned from the funeral in much mental dis-

tress. His sins were brought to remembrance, and re-


flection was misery. For many nights, sleep was dis-
turbed by visions of his neglected boy. Sometimes he
imagined that he heard him coughing from his low bed,
and felt + eonstrained to go to him, in a strange disposi-
tion of kindness', but his limbs were unable to obey the
dictates of his will.
8. Conscience haunted him with terrors, and many
160 NEW FIFTH READER.
prayers from pious hearts arose, that he might now b©
led to repentance. The + venerable man who had read
the Bible at the burial of his boy, counseled and en-
9.
treated him, with the earnestness of a father, to yield to
the warning voice, and to “break off his sins by '''right-
eousness, and his iniquities by turning unto the Lord.”
There was a change in his habits and conversa-
tion, and his friends trusted it would be permanent.
She, who, above all others, was interested in the result,
spared no '^exertion to win him back to the way of
truth, and soothe his heart into peace with itself, and
obedience to his Maker.
10. Yet was she doomed to witness the full force of
grief, and of remorse for intemperance, only to see them
utterly '•'overthrown at last. The reviving virtue, with
whose indications she had + solaced herself, and even
given thanks that her beloved son had not died in vain,
was transient as the morning dew.
11. Habits of industry, which had begun to spring up,
proved themselves to be without root. The dead, and
+ I)isaffec-
his cruelty to the dead, were alike forgotten.
tion to the chastened being, who against hope still
hoped for his ^salvation, ''resumed its dominion.
12. The friends who had ’’'alternately reproved and
encouraged him, were soon convinced their efforts had
been of no avail. Intemperance, “ like the strong man
armed,” took possession of a soul that lifted no cry to
God, and + girded on no weapon to resist the destroyer.

Exercises . —What effect was produced upon the father by the


’death of his child? What were his friends disposed to hope? How
did intemperance take possession of him? Why was he unsuccess-
ful, do you suppose, in his resistance to intemperate habits ?

Explain the inflections proper in the first three paragraphs.

EXERCISE XX.
Truly he is trusty and thrifty. The brute was with difficulty
throttl'd. Through the storm and danger s thrall. He has many
Cents and but little sense. The prince bought some prints.
I ”

ECLECTIC SERIES. 161

LESSON XL VI.

1. Ra'di-ant; adj. beaming with > 2. Hues; n. colors.


brightness. I 3. Ru'by; n. a precious stone of
2. Date; n. the fruit of a tree a red color.
;

which grows in warm coun- l 3. Di'a-mond; n. a precious ston®


tries. s of the most valuable kind.
2. Fka gkant; / adj. sweet smell- ? 3. Cor'al ;
n. a kind of sea-animal
ing. (here used as an adjective).
.
j
2. Per-fume'; v. to fill with pleas- e 3. Strand; n. a shore or beach of
. ant smells. > the sea.

THE BETTER LAND.


Remark. — n reading, be careful not to join the final consonant
of one word to the vowel of the next word, as in the following lines:

Lou das his thunder shou tis praise


And soun dit lofty as his throne.

Pronounce correctly and articulate distinctly. Do not say


chil-ren nor chil-durn for chil-dren ;
featKry for feath-er-y ;
glit'rin

for glit-ter-ing.

1. “I hear thee speak of the better land;


Thou call’st its children a happy band;
Mother''! O, v where
is that radiant shore?
Shall we not
seek it and weep no more'?
Is it where the flower of the orange + blows,
And the fire-flies dance through the myrtle boughs? ”
“Not there, not there, my child!
2. “Is itwhere the + feathery palm-trees rise',
And the date grows ripe under sunny skies'?
Or ’mid the green islands of + glittering seas',
Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze',
And strange, bright birds, on their starry wings,
Bear the rich hues of all + glorious things'?”
“Not there, not there, my child! ”
3. “Is it far away in some + region old,
Where the rivers "^wander o’er sands of gold,
;

162 NEW FIFTH READER.


"Where the burning rays of the ruby shine,
And the diamond lights up the ^secret mine,
And the pearl '''gleams forth from the coral strand?
Is it there, sweet mother, that better land'?”
“Not there, not there, my child!”
4. “Eye hath not seen' it, my gentle boy!
Ear hath not heard' its deep sounds of joy;
Dreams can not ’ picture a world so fair
Sorrow and death may not enter there'
Time doth not breathe on its ^fadeless bloom,
Beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb;

It is there', it is there', my child' !

Exercises —What climate produces the myrtle, palm, and date?


.

Why is the palm-tree called feathery? Where is that “better land,”


spoken of in the lesson ?
What inflection should be used at the word “child,” in the last
line of the first stanza? What inflection at the same word when
repeated in the other three stanzas? Give rules for the other inflec-
tions.

LESSON XL VII.

1. Aii/ment; n. disease. i 8. Oc'u-lar ; adj. by the eye.


1. TEN'DER-ei); v. offered. \ 8. Nuisance; n. something of-

2. Strej/u-ous-ly ;
adv. strongly, i fensive.
3. Ve'he-mence; n. violence. I 9. Cha-grin'; n. vexation.
3. Menace; n. threat. < 9. Port-man'teau; n. a valise.
4. Mo-rose'ly; adv. peevishly. 9. E-m aAi-at-ed adj. wasted.
;
j

5. A-vid'i-ty; n. eagerness. )
10. Sa-tir'ic-al; adj. bitter in
6. Al-ter-ca'tion ;
n. dispute. \
language.

ILL-NATURE REWARDED.
Pronounce correctly. Do not say bruth-uz for brothers ; fort-
nitly for fort-it-nate-lv ;
up-pear-unce for ap-pear-ance; del' kit for
deW-cate; ob-vous-ly for ob-vi-ous-ly ;
tre-men-du-ous for tre-inen-
dous.

1. Two gentlemen, brothers, called at the office to

take seats for the following morning, in the Kilkenny


ECLECTIC SERIES. 163

coach there were fortunately two inside places ‘‘"vacant.


;

The elder brother was, from his appearance, ‘•'obviously


suffering under some '’'oppressive ailment, and the other,
in rather a delicate state of health.Between the two
there happened to be not more cash than was sufficient
to jmy for one passenger; the second brother said he
would bring the fare with him in the morning and went
away. In a short time after, another person came into
the office, asked for a seat in the coach, tendered his
money, ‘'insisted on the strict rules being observed, and
was booked accordingly.
2. The next morning, an hour before day, the broth-

ers arrived. The ‘‘'invalid got in, and the other, putting
down his fare was told that the place was filled by one
who had paid his money, and who threatened that if
refused his place, he would hire a chaise for the whole
journey to Dublin, at the expense of the coach '•'propri-
etors. The young man looked into the coach, and find-
ing all seats occupied, begged, and was strenuously
supported by his brother, to be admitted, even for a
stage or two, as he was not in good health, and the rain
poured down in a tremendous '‘deluge.
3. The rest of the coach company seemed to yield,

but the stiff gentleman was contrary, as will sometimes


happen, and with his former menace silenced the agent,
(who was leaning to the side of mercy), and insisted
with increased vehemence, that the rules of the office
should be observed.
4. The strict person was owner of a great flour-mill;

he was any thing but a ?jolly miller, but adhered liter-


ally and morosely to the principle of “caring for no-
body,” not because “nobody cared for him,” but because
it was the habit of his life to make every liberal thought

and kind intention, which accidentally arose in his mind,


like worldly charity, to begin at home, and center in
himself.
5. He was wrapped up in his milling ‘‘‘operations,

and eyed his bags of flour with the same avidity as a


miser would those of his gold. He was that sort of self-
ish and self-sufficient person, that would not take any
5th Rd. 14.

164 NEW FIFTH READER.


moderate boot between the prime minister and himself,
and thought the + machinery of the state of little import-
ance, compared with that of his own mill. He ordered
the coachman to get forward, with some further menace
if he did not.
6. The young man, after a little altercation, took his

seat beside the guard, and the coachman drove off. It


was still dark; the rain was intense, the voices ceased,
and the invalid, if a gentle snore was any 'Indication,
had fallen asleep.
7. As the coach was passing through Fox-and-G-eese

Common, a barking cur assailed the horses, and was


apparently ^responded to by a low growl from the
?
‘‘interior of the + vehicle. “Is there a dog in the coach
asked the miller, for it was yet pitch dark. Those who
were awake said they could not tell the invalid breathed
:

hard and snored in a few minutes the growl was heard


;

again, advancing to a sharper snarl. “Have you got a


dog in the coach?” asked the miller: “it is contrary to
all rule; the agent is at fault, and shall be fined; it shall
be looked to when the coach stops.”
8. A renewed snarl and a few' chopping barks from

the opposite seat where the invalid was placed, made


the miller certain that the dog belonged to him, and lay
behind his legs. Hot wishing, however, to put out his
hand, or even his foot, to make the trial, he waited for
daylight + impatiently, and one or two succeeding growls
from the same quarter confirmed him in this + surmise.
At length a tedious dawm gave way to the slowly in-
creasing light of a gloomy morning. The miller had his
eye fixed upon the spot, and as objects became less + en-
veloped in shade, he chuckled at having ocular proof of
the nuisance which he determined to complain of and
get rid of at the next stage.
9. There lay the dog, as he conceived, behind his

master’s legs. But what was his disappointment and


chagrin, when through the breaking clouds, a strong

gleam of light fell not upon the dog of his + imagina-

tion but on a small portmanteau belonging to the
invalid, who at the sudden burst of light which had
ECLECTIC SERIES. 165

surprised and disappointed the miller, opened his eyes,


keen, sharp, and + penetrating, but sunk deep in a pale
and emaciated countenance.
10. “You have been asleep,” said the miller. “Have
I?” was the reply. “Have you a dog in the coach?”
“Ho.” “Hid you not hear any growling or snarling in
the coach
?” “I did at setting “ From what quarter
off."
did you hear it?” “From yourself, growling about
strict rules.” “You are satirical, but we have heard a
dog in the coach, and it shall not remain; you were
asleep.” “So you say.” “You snored in your sleep.”
“May be so.” “Ho you ever growl, or snarl, or bark in
your sleep?” “It is not improbable; I have not been
very well; but Boctor Middleton tells me I am cured.”
11. “Ho you say Middleton? that’s the mad doctor.”
“He’s a very good doctor, and I’ll thank him the long-
est day I live.” The miller in some little alarm, asked
in a milder tone, “Were you in the house?” “I was,
for three months, and he ^performed a great cure for
me.” “May I ask,” said the now + subdued miller,
“what was the nature of your + malady?” “Why, if
you must know,” replied the invalid, “it was neither
more nor less than the bite of a mad dog.”
12. “Save us,” said the miller; “and did the doctor
effect a perfect cure?” “He did, and sent me out yes-
terday, to return to my native air, saying that the
trifling + symptom of snarling like a dog, which, per-
haps, may have + annoyed you in my sleep, will grad-
ually wear away, and does not signify, as I have done
no mischief for the last month, and he was sure that
going back to my family would quiet my mind and set
all right.”
13. The miller’s countenance now + exhibited a strong
+ expression of terror; he looked + wistfully out of the

window, and lamented the teeming rain which pre-


vented him from enjoying a seat outside. At this
moment, the invalid was affected by a + tremendous fit
of snarling and barking, resembling so perfectly the
canine expression of the most furious + irritation, that
the miller under the strongest expression of alarm, was

166 NEW FIFTH READER.
about to get out of the coach, when the invalid, seizing
him by his coat, grinned at him, and exhibited a set of
deformed teeth, barking + vehemently for some minutes,
and then subsiding into a perfect calm, entreated the
terrified miller not to be in the least alarmed, that it
was all over, and that he might depend on there being
no danger whatever.
14 By this time the coach had arrived at Black
Church. The rain was rather heavier and more + per-
pendicular in its '‘descent. During the change of horses,
the feverish miller called for a glass of spring water,
which, when presented to him at the carriage window,
was instantly dashed to pieces by the sufferer, who
recommenced the most terrific barkings and snarlings,
accompanied by grinnings and '‘'gestures the most fright-
ful, through all of which he roared to the miller to be
under no alarm, that it would not signify, that Doctor
Middleton had told him so, that he had bitten no one for
six weeks, and that he would be quiet again in a few
minutes.
15. But the trembling miller, determined not to trust
him, Doctor- Middleton, or the nature of his + disorder,
jumped out of the coach, called for a chaise, and posted
on alone. As he drove off, the invalid putting his head
out of the window, invited his brother into the vacant
seat, which he enjoyed for the remainder of a '‘'drench-
ing day, to the mirth of the passengers, (previously
made acquainted with the trick,) and to the still further
+ annoyance of the miller, whom they passed on the

road, and who was saluted by both brothers with a


familiar nod of humorous sarcasm, and an exclamation
'’

from both: “You should observe strict rules.”


Exercises .
Relate the occurrence here described.
What is the subject of the last sentence, “ You should observe strict
rules?” What is the attribute?

EXERCISE XXI.
The leaves swell and spread in all directions. No sprawling nor
drawling. Scruples of delicacy caused him to shrink. The death
shroud fell upon the shrine of his idolatry.
— ; ; ; ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 167

LESSON XLVIII.
1. Trow; t, suppose; think. 5
3> In _ter _ v * n ,*d ;
situated be _
1. Trappings; n. ornaments. $ tween.
/
2. Im be-cile; n. (pro. im'be-cil) < 4. TinPings; n. colorings.
a sick person. £ 5. StPf-LED ;
v. suppressed.

IT SNOWS.
Remark. Avoid reading in a faint and low tone. This is a
very common fault and should be carefully guarded against.

Pronounce correctly. Do not say trou for trow (pro. tro);


/
geth-uz for gath-ers ;
to-ward' for to ward; un-heerd for un-heard

(pro. un-herd).

1. “It snows! ’’cries the School-boy, “Hurrah!” and his


shout
Is ringing through parlor and hall,
While swift as the wing of a swallow, he ’s out,
And his playmates have answered his call
It makes the heart leap but to witness their joy;
Proud wealth has no pleasures, I trow,.
Like the ''rapture that throbs in the pulse of the boy,
As he gathers his "treasures of snow
Then lay not the trappings of gold on thine heirs,
While health, and the riches of nature, are theirs.

2. “It snows!” sighs the Imbecile, “ Ah !” and his breath


Comes heavy, as + clogged with a weight
While, from the pale + aspect of nature in death,
He turns to the blaze of his grate
And nearer and nearer, his soft-cushioned chair
Is wheeled toward the life-giving flame;
He dreads a chill puff of the snow-burdened air,
Lest it wither his '•'delicate frame;
O! small is the pleasure + existence can give,
When the fear we shall die only proves that we live!
3. “It snows!” cries the Traveler, “Ho!” and the word
Has quickened his steed’s '•lagging pace;
— : ; : ; !

168 NEW FIFTH READER.


The wind rushes by, but its howl is unheard,
Unfelt the sharp drift in his face;
For bright through the tempest his own home appeared,
Ay, though leagues intervened, he can see
There ’s the clear, glowing hearth, and the table prepared,
And his wife with her babes at her knee;
Blest thought how it lightens the grief-laden hour,
!

That those we love dearest are safe from its power

4. “It snows!” cries the Belle, “Dear, how lucky!” and


turns
From her mirror to watch the flakes fall,
Dike the first rose of summer, her ''dimpled cheek burns,
While musing on sleigh-ride and ball
There are visions of conquests, of + splendor, and mirth,
Floating over each drear winter’s day
But the tintings of Hope, on this storm-beaten earth,
Will melt like the snow-flakes away;
Turn, turn thee to Heaven, fair maiden, for bliss;
That world has a pure + fount ne’er opened in this.

5. “It snows!” cries the Widow, “O, God!” and her


sighs
Have stifled the voice of her prayer;
Its burden ye’ll read in her tear-swollen eyes,
On her cheek sunk with fasting and care.
’Tis night, and her fatherless ask her for bread,
But “He gives the young ravens their food,”
And she trusts, till her dark hearth adds + horror to
dread,
Andshe lays on her last chip of wood.
Poor ’’sufferer that sorrow thy God only knows
!

’Tis a most bitter lot to be poor, when it snows!

Exercises. Why does the sehool-boy rejoice when it snows?


What feelings are excited in the sick man by the snow-storm? What
effect does have upon the traveler, and what does he think about?
it

Why does the belle congratulate herself, and of what are her dreams?
Wha,t are the poor widow’s troubles in a time like this?
ECLECTIC SERIES. 169

LESSON XLIX.

1. Dis-as'ters; n. unfortunate <3. Soi/ace; n. comfort in grief,


events. ^3. Re-ce'ss'es ;
n. retirement ;
se-

1 . In-tre-pid'i-ty; n. courage. < crecy.


2. Triv'i-al; adj. trifling; small. > 4. En-thi/si-asm ;
n. warmth of
3. Rifted; v. split open. s feeling.
3. Tendrils; n. the claspers of a 5. Re-trieve'; v. to repair; to

vine. '
> yestore to a good state.

THE WIFE.W
Pronounce correctly. Do not say for-ti-tchude for for-ti-tude;
for-ten nor for-tshune for fort-une; Prov-i-dunce for Prov-i-dence;
con-grat-ty-la-ting for con-grat-w-lat-ing ;
sit-oo-a-tion nor sit-shu-a-tion

for sit-w-a-tion ;
stim-my-la-ted nor stim-er-la-ted nor stim-eiv-la-ted for
stim-u-lat-ed, (pro. stim-yu-la-ted).

1. I have remark the + fortitude


often had occasion to
with which women most + overwhelming re-
sustain the
verses of fortune. Those disasters which break down
the spirit of a man, and prostrate him in the dust, seem
to call forth all the energies of the softer sex, and give
such intrepidity and elevation to their character, that,
at times, it approaches to sublimity.
Nothing can be more touching, than to behold a
2.

soft and tender female, who had been all weakness and
+ dependence, and alive to every trivial + roughness, while

treading the prosperous paths of life, suddenly rising in


mental force to be the comforter and supporter of her
husband under misfortune, and abiding, with unshrink-
ing firmness, the most bitter blasts of '‘'adversity.
B. As the vine, which has long twined its graceful

ffoliage about the oak, and been lifted by it* into sun-
shine, will, when the hardy plant is rifted by the '‘'thun-
der-bolt, cling around it with its caressing tendrils, and
bind up its ’’'shattered boughs; so it is beautifully or-
dered by Providence, that woman, who is the mere
dependent and ornament of man in his happier hours,
d "

170 NEW FIFTH READER.


should be his stay and solace, when smitten with sudden
calamity^ winding herself into the + rugged recesses of
;

his nature", tenderly supporting the drooping head",


and binding up the broken hearts.
4. I was once congratulating a friend, who had
around him a blooming. family, knit together in the
strongest + affection, “I can wish you no better lot,”
said he, with enthusiasm", “ than to have a wife and
children. If you are prosperous, there they are to share
your prosperity; if otherwise^, there they are to com-
fort" you.”
5. And, indeed, I have observed, that a married' man,

falling into misfortune, is more apt to retrieve his situa-


tion in the world than a single" one; partly, because he
is more + stimulated to exertion by the + necessities of the

helpless and beloved beings who depend upon him for


^subsistance v but chiefly, because his spirits are soothed
;

and relieved by domestic + endearments, and his self-


'

respect kept alive by finding, that, though all abroad is


darkness and humiliation, yet there is still a little world
of love at home, of which he is the tmonarch v Whereas, .

a single man is apt to run to waste and self-neglect, to


fancy himself lonely and abandoned, and his heart to
fall to ruin, like some deserted h mansion, for want of an
;


inhabitant.

Exercises . —To wliat natural object is female fortitude beauti-


fully compared? Why should a man have a family ? What is apt to
be the case with the single man, as to character and comfort? Give
rules for the inflections.

To Teachers —
The words marked thus + for spelling and defi-
.

nition, should by no means be passed over by the teacher. The pupil


should be required to spell and define them, giving them that defini-
tion which is appropriate in the connection in which they are used.

EXERCISE XXII.
We travel through extensive tracts of territory. The transition
was extreme and sudden. Proofs of the crime of an irrefragable
nature can be produced. The tragic nature of the scene seem’d
rather attractive than repulsive.
ECLECTIC SERIES. 171

LESSON L.

1. Ter/race; n. a raised bank of 5. Heir'-loom; n. any article


earth. which by law descends to

3. Bnon/ER-eD ;
v. adorned with the heir with the real estate.
figures of needle-work. 7. De-co /rum; n. propriety of
3. Em'e-rald; n. a gem of pure behavior.
lively green color (used here 7. Lus'ter; n. brightness.
as an adjective). 8. Pan'ic; n. sudden alarm.
3. Ai/a-bas-ter ;
n. a soft, white 10. Quest; n. search.
marble. 11. Leg'a-cy; n. what is left by
3. Cor'o-net; n. a little crown. will.

5. Du'cal; adj. pertaining to a 12. AsPbush; n. a concealed


duke. place.

GINEVRA.
Pronounce correctly. Reg-gi-o, pro. red-je-o ; fount-ains, pro.

fount-ins. Do not say sta-ohoos for stat-aes ;


sets for sfts ;
for-ud
for fov-ivard ;
in-ner-sunt for in-no-cent; haunt for haunt, (pro.

haunt); mel-er-dy for mel-o-dy; an-cient for an-cient; i-ver-ry for

i-vo-ry; fast-en-ed, pro. fas' nd.

1. Ip ever you should come to Modena,


Stop at a palace near the Reggio gate,
Dwelt in of old by one of the Donati.
Its noble gardens, terrace above terrace,
And rich in Mountains, + statues, ^cypresses,
Will long detain v you; but, before you go A
Enter the house v —forget it not, I pray v you;
And look awhile upon a picture there.

2. ’Tis of a lady in her earliest youth,


The last of that ''"illustrious family;
Done by Zampieri; but by whom I care not.
He, who observes it, ere he passes on,
Gazes his fill, and comes and comes again,
That he may call it up when far away.
3. She sits, inclining forward as to speak,
Her lips half-open, and her finger up,
5th Rd. 15.
! — —
; ; ;

172 NEW FIFTH READER.


As though she said', “Beware v !” her vest of gold,
Broidered with flc wers, and clasped from head to foot
An emerald stone in every golden clasp v ;

And on her brow, fairer than alabaster,


A coronet of pearls'-.
4. But then her face,
So lovely', yet so arch v so full of mirth,
,

The overflowings of an innocent heart


It +haunts me still, though many a year has fled,
Like some wild + melody

5. Alone it hangs
Over a Lnoldering heir-loom its companion,
;

An oaken chest, half-eaten by the worm,


But richly carved by Antony of Trent,
With scripture stories from the life of Christ;
A chest that came from Yenice, and had held
The ducal robes of some old ^ancestors
That, by the way, it may be true' or false'
But don’t forget the picture; and you will not,
When you have heard the tale they told me there.
6. She was an only child,her name Ginevra,
The an indulgent father;
joy, the pride of
And in her fifteenth year became a bride,
Marrying an only son, Francesco Doria,
Her playmate from her birth, and her first love.

I. Just as she looks there, in her +bridal dress,


She was all gentleness, all gayety,
Her pranks the favorite theme of every tongue.
But now the day was come, the day, the hour;
How, frowning, smiling for the hundredth time,
The nurse, that ancient lady, preached decorum
And, in the luster of her youth, she gave
Her hand, with her heart in it, to Francesco”'.

8. Great was the joy' but at the nuptial feast,


;
t

When all sat down, the bride herself was wanting;

Hor was she to be found! Her father cried.


! ! ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 173


“ ’Tis ”
but to make a trial of our love !

9. And but his hand shook,


filled his glass to all ;

And soon from guest to guest the panic spread.

’Twas but that instant she had left Francesco,


Laughing and looking back and flying still,
Her ivory tooth ’’’imprinted on his finger.
But now, alas she was not to be found
!

Nor from that hour could any thing be guessed,


But that she was not

10. Weary of his life,

Francesco flew to Y enice, and ’’’embarking,


Flung it away in battle with the Turk.
Donati livedv ;
and long might you have seen
An old man wandering as in quest of something,
Something he could not find, he knew not what.
When he was gone, the house remained awhile
Silent and tenantless then went to strangers.
;

11. Full fifty years were past, and all forgotten,


When on an idle day, a day of search
’Hid the old Humber in the gallery,
That moldering chest was noticed; and ’twas said
By one as young, as thoughtless as Grinevra,
“Why not remove^ it from its lurking-place?”
’Twas done as soon as said; but on the way
It burst v it fell
v and lo a + skeleton v !
, ; ,

With here and there a pearl, an emerald stone,


A golden clasp, clasping a shred of gold.
All else had perished, save a wedding-ring,
And a small seal, her mother’s legacy,
’’’Engraven with a name, the name of both;
“ Grinevra.”

12. —
There then had she found a grave:
Within that chest had she concealed herself,
Fluttering with joy, the happiest of the happy;
When a ’’’spring-lock, that lay in ambush there,
Fastened her down for ever
Exercises . —Where is Modena? Relate this story.
;
:

174 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON LI.

2. A-lac'ri-ty; n. cheerful readi-


^
5. In-teg'ri-ty; n. honesty of
ness. i purpose.
2. E-las'tic; adj. rebounding; $ 7. Mea'ger; adj. small; scanty,
springing back. < 7. Streamlet; n. a little stream
4. Vi-cis'si-tude; n. change; rev- ? a brook.
olution. ]
7. Im-ped'i-ment ;
n. hinderance.
5. Scru'pu-lous ;
adj. careful; <;
7. IIav'oc; n. wide destruction.
nicely doubtful. £ 7. Ca-reer'; n. course.

DECISIVE INTEGRITY.
Give the r its rough sound in the following words in this lesson
career, approbation, secret, afraid, alacrity, brilliant, right, free,
erect, heroic, phrase, pride, resemble, private, scrupulous, integ-
rity, drives, morality, greatness, resistless, presents, torrent, purity.

1. The man who is so conscious of the rectitude of


his intentions, as to be willing to open his bosom to the
inspection of the world, is in possession of one of the
strongest pillars of a decided character. The course of
such a man will be firm and steady, because he has
nothing to fear from the world, and is sure of the '•'ap-
probation and support of heaven. While he, who is
conscious of secret and dark designs, which, if known,
would blast him, is perpetually shrinking and dodging
from public observation, and is afraid of all around, and
much more of all above him.
2. Such a man may, indeed, pursue his iniquitous

plans steadily; he may waste himself to a skeleton in


the guilty pursuit; but it is impossible that he can
pursue them with the same health-inspiring + confidence
and exulting alacrity with him who feels, at every step,
that he is in the pursuit of honest ends, by honest means.
The clear, unclouded brow, the open countenance, the
brilliant eye, which can look an honest man steadfastly,
yet + courteously, in the face, the healthfully beating
heart, and the firm, elastic step, belong to him whose
ECLECTIC SERIES. 175

bosom is free from guile, and who knows that all his

purposes are pure and right.


3. Why should such a man falter in his course? He
may be ^slandered; he may be deserted by the world;
but he has that within which will keep him erect, and
enable him to move onward in his course, with his eyes
fixed on heaven, which he knows will not desert him.
4. Let yourfirst step, then, in that + discipline which

is you decision of character, be the heroic deter-


to give
mination to be honest men, and to preserve this charac-
ter through every vicissitude of fortune, and in every
relation which connects you with society. I do not use
this phrase, “honest men,” in the narrow sense merely
of meeting your + pecuniary engagements, and paying
your debts; for this the common pride of gentlemen
will constrain you to do.
5. I use it in its larger sense of + discharging all your

duties, both public and private, both open and secret,


with the most scrupulous, + heaven-attesting integrity;
in that sense, further, which drives from the bosom all
little, dark, crooked, sordid, debasing + considerations of
self, and substitutes in their place a bolder, loftier, and
nobler spirit; one that will dispose you to consider your-
selves as born, not so much for yourselves, as for your
country and your fellow-creatures, and which will lead
you to act, on every occasion, sincerely, justly, gener-
ously, + magnanimously.
6. There is a morality on a larger scale, perfectly

consistent with a just attention to your own affairs,


which it would be the height of folly to neglect a gen- :

erous expansion, a proud elevation and conscious great-


ness of character, which is the best preparation for a
decided course, in every situation into which you can be
thrown and it is to this high and noble tone of charac-
;

ter that I would have you to + aspire.


7. I would not have you resemble those weak and

meager streamlets, which lose their ^direction at every


petty impediment which presents itself, and stop, and
turn back, and creep around, and search out every little
^channel through which they may wind their feeble and

176 NEW FIFTH READER.
sickly course. Nor yet would I have you resemble the
headlong torrent that carries havoc in its mad career.
8. But I would have you like the ocean, that noblest

emblem of ^majestic decision, which, in the calmest


hour, still heaves its resistless might of waters to the
shore, filling the heavens, day and night, with the echoes
of its sublime declaration of independence, and tossing
and sporting on its bed, with an 'Imperial '’'conscious-
ness of strength that laughs at + opposition. It is this
depth, and weight, and power, and purity of character,
that I would have you to resemble and I would have ;

you, like the waters of the ocean, to become the purer


by your own action.

Exercises .
Wliat is said of the man who is conscious of the
rectitude of his intentions? What of the man of the opposite descrip-
tion? AVhat is the first step in gaining decision of character? What
would the author not have you resemble? What would he have you
like?

LESSON LII.

1. Prec'e-dent; n. something that


)
4. Vails; n. money given to ser-

serves for an example. \ v ant s'. (/£ here means that


2. Pro-cras-ti-n action; n. de- \
which maybe spent for plea-
lay. > sure. This word is obsolete
-
,

3. Palm; n. victory.
)
that is, it is not now used).
4. Driv'el; v. to be foolish. ^
5. Dh/a-to-ry; adj. slow; delay-
4. Re-ver'sion; n. right to future ^
ing.
possession. \ 6. Chides; v. reproves.

PROCRASTINATION.
Articulate distinctly. Do not say prec dent for prec-e-dent;
pro-crast' na-tion for pro-cras-tf-na-tion ;
e-ter-nl for e-ter-nal; mi-
raclous for mi-rac-u-lous; extent for ex-cel-lent ;
spec's for sus-
pects ;
in-f'mous for in-fa-mous.

1. Be wise to-day. T is madness to + defer:


Next day the + fatal precedent will plead;


Thus on, till wisdom is pushed out of life.
— ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 177


2. Procrastination is the thief of time:
Year after year it steals, till all are fled,
And moment, leaves
to the mercies of a
The vast + concerns of an + eternal scene.
If not so frequent, would not this be strange?
That ’tis so frequent, this is stranger still.

(
3. Of man’s ^miraculous mistakes, this bears
The palm, that all men are about to live,
Forever on the + brink of being born.
4. Allpay themselves the ^compliment to think
They one day shall not drivel and their pride, ;

On this reversion, takes up ready


praise,
At least, their own: their future selves + applaud;
How excellent that life they ne’er will lead!
Time lodged in their own hands is folly’s vails;
That lodged in fate’s, to wisdom they ^consign:
The thing they can’t but purpose, they ^'postpone.
5. ’Tis not in folly not to scorn a fool;
And scarce in human wisdom to do more.
All promise is poor dilatory man,
And that through every stage when young,
: indeed,
In full content, we sometimes nobly rest
Unanxious for ourselves: and only wish,
As duteous sons, our fathers were more wise.
6. At thirty, man ^suspects himself a fool;
Knows it and ^reforms his plan
at forty,
At fifty, chides his + infamous delay,
Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve;
In all the ^magnanimity of thought
Resolves, and + re-resolves then dies the same.
;

Exercises . Name some of the evils of procrastination. What,


of all things, are men most apt to defer?

EXERCISE XXIII.
Priceless was the offering. The wound was thoroughly prob'd.
Principle may not be profitable. The books are printed. Spring
filings her rosy mantle o’er the plains. The rowers ply their weary
ears.
;

178 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON LIII.

2. Pro-pel 7 v.;
to push forward. 5. Mi-nu7ti-a? ;
n. the smaller
8. En-gi-neer 7 ;
n. one who man- particulars.
ages engines. 6. Fric7tion; n. rubbing.
* Steam 7-gauge; n. something
3. 10. Mo-men 7 tum; n. the quantity
which measures the force of of motion.
the steam. 11. Sym 7 bol; n. type or emblem.
1

3. Scru 7 ti-niz-es ;
v. examines ;
11. Res-er-voir 7 ;
n. (pro. rez-er-
closely. vwor/ ') a place where any
4. Pon 7 der-ous; adj. very heavy. thing is kept in store.
4. Pis 7ton; n. a short cylinder 13. Sus-cep-ti-bil 7 i-ties ; n. ca-
used in pumps and engines. pacity for receiving im-
7
5. Com pli-cat-ed ;
adj. intricate. pressions.

THE STEAM-BOAT TRIAL.


Remark . — Do not let the voice grow weaker at the last words of
a sentence.

Pronounce correctly. Do not say ac-tew-al for act-w-al ;


in-gi-

neer for en-gi-neer; bi-Ur for bod-er; fasnings for fasi-en-ings


move-munce for inove-ments ;
in-gine for en-gine, (pro. en-gin); jint
for joe'nt; He for oil; fur-niss for fur-nace; gov-uns for gov- or ns.

1. Bible every -where + conveys the idea that this


The
life isnot our home, but a state of + probation, that is, of
trial and + discipline which is intended to prepare us for
,

another. In order that all, even the youngest of my


readers, may understand what is meant by this, I shall
'•'illustrate it by somefamiliar examples, drawn from the
actual business of life.

2. When a large steam-boat is built, with the inten-


tion of having her employed upon the waters of a great
river, she must be proved before put to service. Before
somewhat doubtful whether she will succeed.
trial, it is
In the first place, it is not absolutely certain whether
her + machinery will work at all. There may be some
flaw in the iron, or an imperfection in some part of the
‘•'workmanship, which will prevent the motion of her
wheels. Or, if this is not the case, the power of the
!

ECLECTIC SERIES. 179


machinery may not be sufficient to propel her through
the water with such force as to overcome the current;
or she may, when -brought to encounter the rapids at
some narrow passage in the stream, not be able to force
her way against their resistance.
3. The engineer, therefore, resolves to try her in all

these respects, that her '^security and her power may be


properly proved, before she is ^intrusted with her valu-
able cargo of human lives. He cautiously builds a tire
under her boiler: he watches with eager interest the
rising of the steam-gauge, and scrutinizes every part of
the machinery, as it gradually comes under the control
of the tremendous power, which he is ^apprehensively
applying.
-*~4. With what interest doeshe observe the first stroke
of the ponderous piston and when, at length, the fast-
!

enings of the boat are let go, and the motion is + com-
municated to the wheels, and the mighty mass slowly
moves away from the wharf, how deep and eager an
interest does he feel in all her movements, and in every
indication he can discover of her future success
5. The engine, however, works imperfectly, as every

one must on its first trial and the object in this '•'experi-
;

ment- is not to gratify idle curiosity, by seeing that she


will move, but to discover and remedy every little im-
jDerfection, and to remove every obstacle which prevents
more entire success. For this purpose, you will see our
engineer examining, most minutely and most attentively,
every part of her complicated machinery. The crowd
on the wharf may be simply gazing on her majestic
progress as she moves off from the shore, but the engi-
neer is within, looking with faithful + examination into
all the minutiae of the motion.
6. He scrutinizes the action of every lever and the

friction of every joint here, he oils a bearing, there, he


;

tightens a nut: one part of the machinery has too much


play, and he confines it; another, too much friction, and
he loosens it now, he stops the engine, now, reverses
;

her motion, and again, sends the boat forward in her


course. He discovers, perhaps, some great improvement
180 NEW FIFTH READER
-

of which she is + suseeptible, and when he returns to the


wharf and has extinguished her fire, he orders from the
machine-shop the necessary alteration.
7. The next day he puts his boat to the trial again,

and she glides over the water more smoothly and swiftly
than before. The jar which he had noticed is gone, and
the friction reduced; the beams play more smoothly,
and the ^alteration which he has made produces a more
equable motion in the + shaft, or gives greater effect to
the stroke of the paddles upon the water.
8. When at length her motion is such as to satisfy

him upon the smooth surface of the river, he turns her


course, we will imagine, toward the rapids, to see how
she will sustain a greater trial. As he increases her
steam, to give her power to overcopie the new force
with which she has to contend, he watches, with eager
interest, her boiler, 'Inspects the gauge and safety-
valves, and, from her movements under the increased
pressure of her steam, he receives suggestions for fur-
ther improvements, or for '^precautions which will in-
sure greater safety.
9. These he executes,' and thus he perhaps goes on

for many days, or even weeks, trying and examining,


for the purpose of improvement, every working of that
mighty power, to which he knows hundreds of lives are
soon
10.
to be intrusted. This now is probation; trial for
the sake Of improvement. And what are its ^results?
Why, after this course has been thoroughly and faith-
fully pursued, this floating palace receives upon her
broad deck, and in her carpeted and curtained cabin,
her four or five hundred passengers, who pour along in
one long procession of happy groups, over the bridge of
planks; father and son, mother and children, young
husband and wife, all with + implicit confidence trusting
themselves and their dearest interests to her power.
See her as she sails away
! How beautiful and yet
how powerful are all her motions! That beam glides
up and down gently and smoothly in its + grooves, and
yet gentle as it seems, hundreds of horses could not hold
it still; there is no apparent violence, but every move-
;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 181

ment is with irresistible power. How graceful is her


form and yet how mighty is the momentum with which
she presses on herway!
11. Loaded with life, and herself the very symbol of
life and power, she seems something + ethereal, unreal,

which, ere we look again, will have vanished away.


And though she has within her bosom a furnace glow-
ing with furious fires, and a reservoir of death, the
elements of most dreadful ruin and conflagration, of
destruction the most complete, and agony the most
+ unutterable and though her strength is equal to the
;

united energy of two thousand men, she restrains it


all.

12. She was "^constructed by genius, and has been


tried and improved by fidelity and skill; and one man
governs and controls her, stops her and sets her in
motion, turns her this way and that, as easily and cer-
tainly as the child guides the gentle lamb. She walks
over the one hundred and sixty miles of her route,
without rest and without fatigue; and the passengers,
who have slept in safety in their berths, with destruc-
tion by water without, and by fire within, defended
only by a plank from the one, and by a sheet of copper
from the other, land, at the appointed time, in safety.
13. My reader, you have within you susceptibilities
and powers, of whicli you have little present conception
energies, which are hereafter to operate in producing
fullness of enjoyment or horrors of suffering, of which
you now can form scarcely a conjecture. You are now
on trial. God wishes you to prepare yourself for safe
and happy action. He wishes you to look within, to
-examine the complicated movements of your hearts, to
detect what is wrong, to + modify what needs change,
and to + rectify every irregular motion.
14. You go out to try your moral powers upon the
stream of active life, and then return to retirement, to
improve what is right, and + remedy what is wrong.
Renewed opportunities of moral practice are given you,
that you may go on from strength to strength, until
every part of that complicated moral machinery, of
——
182 NEW FIFTH READER.
which the human heart consists, will work as it ought
to work, and is prepared to + accomplish the mighty pur-
poses for which your powers are designed. You are on
trial on probation now.
,
You will enter upon active serv-
ice in another world.

Exercises .
How does the Bible consider this life ? What is a
state of probation? What is meant by proving a steam-boat? What
is the use of doing this? Is there any resemblance between man and
a steam-boat?

EXERCISE XXIV.
Thou shed'st a sunshine on his head. The brown forests.
1.
Hop st thou for gifts like these ? Or ever thou had! st form'd the
earth. I have received presents.

LESSON LIV.

Vas'sal; n. a servant; a sub- £


3. Rue; v. to regret deeply.

ject. S 4. RAN'soM-eD; adj. rescued from


1. Scep'ter; n. a kind of staff < death or captivity by paying
borne by kings as a sign of > an equivalent.
royalty. < 5. Gor'geous; adj. showy; splen-
2. Throng; n. a crowd; a great ? did.
multitude. I 5. Martyr; n. one who suffers
3. Her'ald-ed ;
v. introduced as < death in defense of what he
if by a herald. ? believes to be truth.

A DIRGE.
Remark. Observe the poetic pauses in the following lines, viz.:

one at the end, and one near the middle of each line.

Articulate distinctly. Do not say duss for dus£; juss for jus<;
ole for old ; bole for bole?; russ for rusi ; truss for trusi.

1. “Earth to earth, and dust to dust!”


Here the evil and the just,
Here the youthful and the old,
Here the fearful and the hold,
; : ; ;; ::; !: :

ECLECTIC SERIES. 183

Here the + matron and the maid,


In one silent bed are laid
Here the vassal and the king
Side by side, lie withering
Here the sword and scepter rust
“Earth to earth, and dust to dust!”

2 . Age on age shall roll along,


O’er this pale and mighty throng;
Those that wept them, those that weep,
All shall with these sleepers sleep
Brothers, sisters of theworm,
Summer’s sun or winter’s storm,
Song of peace or battle’s roar,
He’er shall break their slumbers more;
Heath shall keep his + sullen trust:
“Earth to'earth, and dust to dust!”

3.
4. But a day is coming fast,
Earth, thy mightiest and thy last
It shall come in fear and wonder,
Heralded by trump and thunder
It shall come in strife and toil
It shall come in blood and spoil
It shall come in ^'empires’ groans,
Burning temples, ^trampled thrones
Then, + ambition, rue thy lust!
“Earth to earth, and dust to dust!”

Then shall come the +judgment sign ;

In the east, the King shall shine


Flashing from heaven’s golden gate,
Thousands, thousands round his state,
Spirits with the crown and plume;
Tremble, then, thou solemn tomb;
Heaven shall open on our sight
“Earth be turned to living light,”
+ Kingdom of the ransomed just!
“Earth to earth, and dust to dust!”
: !

184 NEW FIFTH READER.


5. Then thy mount, Jerusalem,
Shall he gorgeous as a gem
Then shall in the desert rise
Fruits of more than + Paradise,
Barth by angel feet be trod,
One great garden of her God
Till are dried the martyr’s tears
Through a thousand + glorious years:
Now in hope of him we trust:
“Earth to earth, and dust to dust!”

LESSON LY.

1. Fair'? ;
n. an imaginary; 6. Su-per -nat'u-ral ;
adj. more
spirit. > than human.
1. Braes; n. low woods. 6. Re-ver'ber-a-ting ;
v. sound-
4. Din; n. noise. ing.
j

4. Ri'ot-ing; v. romping. 9. E-jac'u-lat-ed; v. exclaimed.


5. Trav'ers-jng; v. wandering, j
15. Bon'ny; adj. beautiful.

LUCY FORRESTER.
Lucy was only six years old, but bold as a fairy;
1.

she had gone by herself a thousand times about the


braes, and often upon errands to houses two or three
miles distant. What had her parents to fear ? The foot-
paths were all firm, and led to no places of danger, nor
are infants themselves + incautious when alone in their
pastimes. Lucy went singing into the low woods, and
singing she re-appeared on the open hill-side. With
her small white hand on the rail, she glided along the
wooden bridge, or, tripped from stone to stone across
the shallow streamlet.
2. The creature would be away for hours, and no

fear be felt on her account by any one at home whether ;

she had gone, with her basket under her arm, to borrow
some articles of + household use from a neighbor, or
merely for her own + solitary delight, had wandered off
ECLECTIC SERIES. 185

to the braes to play among the flowers, coming back


laden with + wreaths and garlands.
3. The happy child had been invited to pass a
whole day, from morning to night, at Ladyside (a farm-
house about two miles off), with her playmates, the
Mayries and she left home about an hour after sun-
;

rise.
4. During her absence, the house was silent but

happy, and, the evening being now far advanced, Lucy


was expected home every minute, and Michael, Agnes,
and Isabel, her father, mother, and aunt, went to meet
her on the way. They walked on and on, wondering a
little, but in no degree ''’alarmed, till they reached Lady-

side, and heard the cheerful din of the children within,


still rioting at the close of the holiday. Jacob Mayne
came to the door, but, on their kindly asking why Lucy
had not been sent home before daylight was over, he
looked painfully surprised, and said that she had not
been at Ladyside.
5. Within two hours, a hundred people were + trav-

ersing the hills in all directions, even at a distance


which it seemed most unlikely that poor Lucy could
have reached. The shepherds and their dogs, all the
night through, searched every + nook, every stony and
rocky place, every piece of taller heather, every "’’crevice
that could conceal any thing alive or dead, but no Lucy
was there.
6. Her mother, who, for a while, seemed ''’inspired
with supernatural strength, had joined in the search,
and, with a quaking heart, looked into every brake, or
stopped and listened to every shout and halloo reverber-
ating among the hills, intent to seize upon some tone of
"'’recognition or discovery. But the moon sank; and
then the stars, whose increased brightness had, for a
short time, supplied her place, all faded away and then
;

came the gray dawn of the morning, and then the clear
brightness of the day, and still Michael and Agnes were
childless,
7. “She has sunk into some mossy or miry place,”
said Michael to a man near him, into whose face he

186 NEW FIFTH HEADER.
could not look, “a cruel, cruel death to one like her!
The earth on which my child walked has closed over

her, and we shall never see her more!
8. At last a man who had left the search, and gone
in a direction toward the high-road, came running, with
something in his arms toward the place where Michael
and others were standing beside Agnes, who lay, + ap-
parently exhausted almost to dying, on the sward. He
approached + hesitatingly and Michael saw that he car-
;

ried Lucy’s bonnet, clothes, and plaid.


9. It was impossible not to see some spots of blood

upon the '•'frill .that the child had worn around her neck.
“ Murdered! murdered!” was the one word, whispered
or ejaculated, all around; but Agnes heard it not: for,
worn out by that long night of hope and despair, she
had fallen asleep, and was perhaps seeking her lost Lucy
in her dreams.
10. Isabel took the clothes, and narrowly ^inspecting
them with eye and hand, said, with a + fervent voice,
that was heard even in Michael’s despair, “No, Lucy is
yet among the living. There are no marks of violence
on the garments of the innocent, no murderer’s hand
has been here. These blood-spots have been put there
to deceive. Beside,would not the murderer have carried
off these things? For what else would he have mur-
dered her? But, O! foolish + despair ! What speak I of?

For wicked as the world is ay! desperately wicked
there is not, on all the surface of the wide earth, a hand
that would murder our child! Is it not plain as the sun
in the heaven, that Lucy has been stolen by some
wretched gypsy beggar.”
11. The crowd quietly "‘'dispersed, and horse and foot
began to scour the country. Some took the high-roads,
others all the by-paths, and many the trackless hills.
Now that they were in some measure ‘'relieved from the
horrible belief that the child was dead, the worst other
calamity seemed nothing, for hope brought her back to
their arms.
12. Agnes had been able to walk home to Bracken-
Braes, and Michael and Isabel sat by her bedside. All
ECLECTIC SERIES. 187

her strength was gone, and she lay at the mercy of the
rustle of a leaf, or a shadow across the window. Thus
hour after hour passed, till it was again twilight. “I
hear footsteps coming uj) the brae,” said Agnes, who
had for some time appeared to be slumbering; and in a
few moments the voice of Jacob Mayne was heard at the
outer door.
13. Jacob wore a solemn expression of countenance;
and he seemed, from his looks, to bring no comfort.
Michael stood up between him and his wife, and looked
into his heart. Something there seemed to be in his-
face that was not + miserable. “If he has heard nothing
of my child,” thought Michael, “this man must care
little for his own fireside.” “O, speak, speak,” said
Agnes; “yet why need you speak? All this has been
but a vain belief, and Lucy is in heaven.”
14. “ Something like a + trace of her has been discov-
ered a woman, with a child, that did not look like a
;

child of hers, was last night at Clovenford, and left it at


the dawning.” “Do you hear that, my beloved Agnes?”
said Isabel; “she will have + tramped away with Lucy
up into Ettrick or Yarrow but hundreds of eyes will
;

have been upon her for these are quiet, but not solitary
;

glens; and the hunt will be over long before she has
crossed down upon Hawick. I knew that country in
my young days. What say you, Mr. Mayne? There is
the light of hope in your face.” “There is no reason to
doubt, ma’am, that it was Lucy. Every body is sure of
it. If it was my own Rachel, I should have no fear as
to seeing her this blessed night.”
15. Jacob Mayne now took a chair, and sat down,
with even a smile upon his countenance. “I may tell
you now, that Watty Oliver knows it was your child,
for he saw her Mimping along after the gypsy at G-alla-
Brigg; but having no + suspicion, he did not take a
— —
second look at her but one look is + suffieient and he
swears it was bonny Lucy Forrester.”
16. Aunt Isabel, by this time, had bread and cheese,
and a bottle of her own elder-flower wine, on the table.
“You have been a long and hard journey, wherever you
5th Rd. 16.

188 NEW FIFTH READER.
have been, Mr. Mayne; take some refreshment;” and
Michael asked a blessing.
17. Jacob saw that he might now venture to '•'reveal
the whole truth. “Mo, no, Mrs. Irving, I am over
happy to eat or to drink. You are all prepared for the
blessing that awaits you. Your child is not far off and ;

I myself, for it is I myself that found her, will bring her


by the hand, and restore her to her parents.”
18. Agnes had raised herself up in her bed at these
words, but she sank gently back on her pillow; aunt
Isabel was rooted to her chair; and Michael, as he rose
up, felt as if the ground were sinking under his feet.
There was a dead silence all around the house for a short
space, and then the sound of many voices, which again
by degrees + subsided. The eyes of all then looked, and
yet feared to look toward the door.
19. Jacob Mayne was not so good as his word, for he
did not bring Lucy by the hand to + restore her to her
parents but dressed again in her own bonnet and gown,
;

and her own plaid, in rushed their own child by herself,


with tears and sobs of joy, and her father laid her within
her mother’s bosom.

Exercises. Relate the story of little Lucy Forrester, and the


manner in which she was found.
What are the nouns in the last paragraph? The adjectives ? The
verbs? The adverbs? Prepositions? Conjunctions?

EXERCISE XXV. }

Canst thou fill his skin with barbed irons ? Thou slumber d’st
not in vain. Thou laidst thy waves at rest. Around him fall
dread powers, dominions, hosts, and kingly thrones. When Ajax
some rock’s vast weight to throw. He was distinguished for
strives

his conscientiousness. His lips grow restless and his smile is curled
into scorn. His limbs were strength' n d by exercise.

The Teacher reminded that the words in italics in the Exercises


is

in Articulation should be spelled by their elements, two or more conso-


nants coming together being uttered as one; and that the word should
then be distinctly and forcibly pronounced.
;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 189

LESSON LYI. 5.

I. Tinge; n. a slight degree of In'cense; ft. the odor of spices


^
color. > burnt in religious worship.
1.
4. Rab'bi; n. a title given to s 5. Re-luc/tant; adj. unwilling.
learned men among the Jews. I 5. Sap'phire ;
n. a precious stone
4. Re-past' ;
n. a meal. 5 of a blue color; here put for
4. Or'i-sons; w. prayers. . < the color.

4. Pon-tif'ic-ab ;
a$. belonging \
6. Lus'ter; ft. splendor; bright-
to the high priest. i ness.
Cym'bal; n. an instrument of 8. Spous'al; adj. relating to
^

music. > marriage.


4. Psai/ter-y; n. an instrument \ 10. Chas'ten-cd adj. afflicted for
;

of music. correction.
^

4. Hal-le-lu'jahs; n. (pro. hal- .


10. Hom/age; re. reverential wor-
le-lu-yahs ), pi’aises to God. < ship.

A HEBREW TALE.
Remark. —Be careful not to allow the voice to grow weaker and
weaker, as you approach the end of each sentence.
Pronounce correctly. Do not say source for scarce; frag-rant
for fra-grant; o-ri'sons for or'i-sons; hal-le-lu-jahs, pro. hal-le-lu
yahs ; beau-che-ous for beau-te-ous ;
hal-lerd for hal -lowed ; o-be-jun.cc
for o-be-cft-ence.

1. + Twilight was deepening with a tinge of eve,


As toward his home in Israel’s ‘'sheltered vales
A ’’'stately Eabbi drew. His camels spied
Afar the palm-trees’ lofty heads, that + decked
The dear, + domestic + fountain, and in speed
Pressed with broad foot, the smooth and dewy glade.

2. The holy man his peaceful threshold passed


With hasting step. The evening meal was spread,
And she, who from life’s morn his heart had shared,
Breathed her fond welcome. Bowing o’er the board,
* The blessing of his father’s God he sought
Ruler of earth and sea. Then raising high
The + S23arkling wine-cup, “ call my sons,” he bade,
“And let me bless them ere their hour of rest.”
190 NEW FIFTH HEADER.
3. The observant mother spake with gentle voice,
Somewhat of soft excuse, that they were wont
To linger long amid the Prophet’s school,
Learning the holy law their father loved.
4. —His sweet repast with sweet '‘'discourse was blent,
Of journeying and return. ‘‘Would thou hadst seen
With me, the golden morning bring to light
Yon mountain summits, whose blue waving line
Scarce meets thine eye, where chirp of joyous birds,
A breath of fragrant herbs and spicy gales,
And sigh of waving boughs, stirred in the soul
Warm orisons. Yet most I wished thee near
Amid the temple’s pomp, when the high priest,
Clad in his robe pontifical, ‘‘'invoked
The God of Abraham, while on the lute and harp,
Cymbal, and trump, and psalt’ry, and glad breath •

Of tuneful Levite, and the mighty shout


Of all our people, like the swelling sea,
Loud hallelujahs burst.

5. When next I seek


Blest Zion’s glorious hill, our beauteous boys
Must bear me company. Their early prayers
Will rise as incense. Thy reluctant love
No longer must withhold them :

the new + toil
Will give them sweeter sleep, and touch their cheek
With brighter crimson. ’Mid their raven curls
My hand I’ll lay, and dedicate them there,
Even in those courts, to Israel’s God;
Two spotless lambs, well pleasing in his sight.
But yet,methinks, thou’rt paler grown, my love.
And the pure sapphire of thine eyes looks dim,
As though ’twere washed with tears.”

6. Faintly she smiled,


“ One doubt my lord, I fain would have thee solve.
,

Gems of rich luster and of countless cost


Were to my
keeping trusted. Now, alas !

They are demanded. Must. they be restored?


Or may I not a little longer gaze
Upon their dazzling + hues?”
— ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 191

7. His eyes grew stern,


And on his lip there lurked a sudden curl
Of indignation. “Doth my wife propose
Such doubt f as if a master might not claim
His own again?” “Nay, Rabbi, come, behold
These + priceless jewels ere I yield them back.”

8. So to their spousal chamber, with soft hand


Her lord she led. There, on a snow-white couch
Lay his two sons, pale pale, and motionless,
,

Like fair twin lilies, which some + grazing kid


In + wantonness had cropped. “My sons! my sons!
Light of my eyes! ” the astonished father cried;
“My teachers in the law! whose + guileless hearts
And prompt obedience warned me oft to be
More perfect with my God!”
9. To earth he fell,

Like Lebanon’s rent cedar; while his breast


Heaved with such groans as when the laboring soul
Breaks from its clay companion’s close embrace.
The mourning mother turned away and wept,
.
Till the first storm of ’’'passionate grief was still,
Then, pressing to his ear her faded lip,
She sighed in tone of tremulous tenderness,
“ Thou didst instruct me, Rabbi, how to yield
The summoned jewels. See! the Lord doth give,
The Lord hath taken away.”
10. “Yea!” said the sire,
“And blessed be his name. Even for thy sake,
Thrice blessed be Jehovah.” Long he pressed
On those cold, beautiful brows his + quivering lip,
"When from his eye the burning anguish rolled
Then kneeling low, those chastened spirits poured
Their mighty homage forth to God.

Exercises. What is a Rabbi? Relate this story. What is the


best support in time, of trouble and affliction?
192 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON LV II.

1. Reptiles; n. (pro. rep'tils), ani- l 3. In-fest'ed ;


v. troubled; an-
mals that creep, as worms, noyed.
snakes, &c. < 4. Ob-structs 7 ;
v. hinders; stops.
1. Re-coil 7 ;
v. start back ;
shrink 5. Rank'le- v. to rage; to be-
from.
|
come violent.
2. Con/eD; v. gathered into a 5. Spell; n. a charm.
j

circular form. \ 7. Still; n. a vessel used in dis-


7
2. Coy a; n. a kind of serpent. \
tilling or making liquors.

THE VENOMOUS WORM.


Pronounce correctly. Do not say rep-tiles for rep-tiles, (pro.
rep'tils) ;
pi-son for pen-son ;
un-for-ter-nit for un-fort-u-nate ;
an-i-

muls for ari-i-mals ;


dis-truc-tion for de-struc-tion ;
symp-tims for
symp-toms ;
in-san-er-ty for in-sann-ty.

“Outvenoms all the worms of hfile.’V

1. Who
has not heard of the rattlesnake or '•'copper-
head? An unexpected sight of either of these reptiles
will make even the lords of creation recoil but there is ;

a species of worm, found in various parts of this State,


which conveys a poison of a nature so deadly, that, com-
pared with it, even the ’•'venom of the rattlesnake is
harmless. To guard our readers against this foe of
human kind, is the object of this lesson.
2. This worm varies much in size. It is frequently
an inch in ’•'diameter, but, as it is rarely seen, except
when coiled, its length can hardly be ’•'conjectured. It
is of a dull lead color, and generally lives near a spring

or small stream of water, and bites the unfortunate peo-


ple, who are in the habit of going there to drink. The
brute creation it never molests. They avoid it with the
same instinct, that teaches the animals of Peru to shun
the deadly coya.
3. Several of these reptiles have long infested our

settlements, to the '•'misery and destruction of many of


our fellow-citizens. I have, therefore, had frequent op-
— ;

ECLECTIC SERIES 193

portunities of being the melancl^ply spectator of the


effects produced by the subtile poison which this worm
+ infuses. ~
4. The + symptoms of its bite are terrible. The eyes
of the patient become red and fiery, his tongue swells to
an immoderate size, and obstructs his + utterance; and
+ delirium of themost horrid character, quickly follows.
Sometimes, in his madness, he attempts the destruction
of his nearest friends.
5. If the sufferer has a family, his weeping wife and

helpless infants are not unfrequently the objects of his


frantic fury. In a word, he "^exhibits, to the life, all the
detestable passions that rankle in the bosom of a savage
and such is the spell in which his senses are locked, that
no sooner has the + unhappy patient recovered from the
+ paroxysm of insanity, occasioned by the bite, than he

seeks out the destroyer ,


for the sole purpose of being
bitten again.
6. I have seen a good old father, his locks as white as

snow, his step slow and trembling, beg in vain of his


only son to quit the + lurking-place of the worm. My
heart bled when he turned away; for I knew the fond
hope, that his son would be the “staff of his + declining
years,” had supported him through many a sorrow. -
7. Youths of America, would you know the name of

this reptile? It is called the Worm of the Still.

Exercises. What is manufactured at the “still” here spoken


of? Why isintemperance worse than the bite of the most venomous
serpent? What is the coya? What part of a still is called the
“worm?” Why is it so called?

In the last paragraph parse “ youths.” See Analytical Grammar,


Rule V.

EXERCISE XXYI.
They grappl'd and fell. The grizzly bear is ferocious.They
grumbl'd at their crippled condition. Each crevice and cranny was
tilled with frost. Alters and shrines incredibly increase. Herds-
men protect herds in the/orest.?. Scenes of pleasure soon pall upon
the senses. The trees fell thundering and ,
crackling ,
and crashing.
The Franks fedfrantienWy.
— ;

194 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON LY I II.

1. A-slope 7 ;
adv. obliquely; in a > 4. Hoi/lands; n. a kind of gin.
slanting manner. ] 4. Ja-maPca; n. a kind of rum.
2. Pai/per; n. a poor person, one ^
6. Po-t anions; n. draughts.
supported by the public, [ing. 5 6. Ru'bi-cund ;
adj. inclined to
2. Pro-mui/ga-ting; v. publish- \ redness.
3. Mu-nic-i-pai/i-ty ;
n. a divis- \
10. Tit-il-l action; n. the state of
ion of country or of a city. 5 being tickled.
4. Gob'let; n. a kind of drinking \
14. Mo-nop'o-lize; v. to obtain
vessel. > the whole.
4. Cognac; n. (pro. konefyak ) the
(
14. Con-sum-ma'tion; n. comple-
best kind .of brandy. \
tion: perfection of a work.

THE TOWN PUMP.


Remark. It will be a good exercise for the pupil to stand at a
distance from the teacher, and then try to read so loud and distinctly
that the teacher may hear with perfect ease each syllable that is

pronounced.
Proxounce correctly. Do not say troth for trough, (pro. trauf)
per-pe-tew ty for per-pe-twf-ty ;
pat-tun for pat-tern ; of-Ji-suz for
of-fi-ce?'s; lan-tun for lan-tern ;
thus-ty for thereby.

[Scene . —The cornier of two principal streets. The- Town Pump


talking through its nose.]

1. Noon, by the north clockv


Noon, by the east v ! !

High noon, by those hot sunbeams which fall",


too,
scarcely aslope", upon my head, and almost make the
water bubble and smoke in the trough under my nosev .

Truly v we public characters have a tough time v of it!


,

And among all the town officers, chosen at the yearly


meeting, where is he that sustains, for a single year, the
burden of such + manifold duties as are imposed, in + per-
petuity,upon the Town Pump?
The title of town treasurer is rightfully mine, as
2.

guardian of the best treasure the town has. The + over-


seers of the poor ought to make me their chairman, since
I provide + bountifully for the pauper, without expense
to him that pays taxes. I am at "the head of the fire
ECLECTIC SERIES. 195

department, and one of the physicians of the board of


health. As a keeper of the peace, all water-drinkers
confess me equal to the constable. I perform some of
the duties of the town-clerk, by promulgating public
notices, when they are pasted on my front.
3. To speak within bounds, I am chief person of the

municipality, and + exhibit, moreover, an + admirable


pattern to my brother officers, by the cool, steady,
upright, downright, and ^impartial + disc.harge of my
business, and the constancy with which I stand to my
post. Summer or winter, nobody seeks me in vain for ;

all day long I am seen at the busiest corner, just above


the market, stretching out my arms to rich and poor
alike; and at night I hold a lantern over my head, to
show where I am, and to keep people out of the gutters.
4. At this sultry noontide, I am cup-bearer to the

parched .populace, for whose benefit an iron goblet is


chained to my waist. Like a dram-seller on the public
square, on a + muster-day, I cry aloud to all and sundry,
in my plainest accents, and at the very tiptoj) of my
voice. “Here it is v gentlemen'! Here is the good liq-
,

uor v ! Walk up v walk up v gentlemen', walk up v walk


, , ,

up v ! Here is the* superior stufF v Here is the unadul-


!

terated, ale of father Adamv better than Cognac', Hol-


!

lands', Jamaicav strong beer', or wine of any v price;


,

here it is, by the hogshead, or the single glass, and not


a cent to pay! Walk up, gentlemen, walk up, and help

yourselves !

5. It were a pity, if all this outcry should draw no

customers. Here they come. A


hot day, gentlemen.
+ Quaff and away again, so as to keep yourselves in a

nice, cool sweat. You, my friend, will need another


cupful to wash the dust out of your throat, if it be as
thick there as it is on your cowhide shoes. I £ee that
you have trudged half a score of miles to-day, and, like
a wise man, have passed by the taverns, and stopped at
the running brooks and well -curbs. Otherwise, betwixt
heat without, and fire within, you would have been
burnt to a cinder, or melted down to nothing at all, in
the fashion of a +jelly-fish.
5th Rd. 17.
196 NEW FIFTH READER.
6. Drink, and make room for that other fellow, who
seeks my aid to quench the fiery fever of last night’s
potations, which he drained from no cup of mine. Wel-
come, most rubicund sir! You and I have been stran-
gers hitherto; nor, to confess the truth, will my nose be
anxious for a closer 'Intimacy, till the fumes of your
breath be a little less + potent.
7. Mercy on you, man! The water absolutely hisses
down your red-hot + gullet, and is converted quite into
steam in the + miniature + Tophet, which you mistake for
a stomach. Fill again, and tell me, on the word of an
honest toper, did you ever, in cellar, tavern, or any
other kind of dram-shop, spend the price of your chil-
dren’s food for a swig half so delicious? Mow, for the
first time these ten years, you know the flavor of cold
water. Good-by; and whenever you are thirsty, recoh
lect that I keep a constant supply, at the old stand.
8. Who next? O, my little friend, you are just let
loose from school, and come hither to scrub your bloom-
ing face, and drown the memory of certain taps of the
ferule, and other school-boy troubles, in a + draught from
the Town Pump. Take it, pure as the current of your
young life; take it, and may your heart and tongue
never be scorched with a fiercer thirst than now.
9. There, my dear child, put down the cup, and yield

your place to this elderly gentleman, who treads so ten-


derly over the paving-stones, that I suspect he is afraid
of breaking them. What! he limps by, without so
much as thanking me, as if my + hospitable offers were
meant only for people who have no wine-cellars.
10. Well, well, sir, no harm done, I hope! Go, draw
the cork, tip the ^decanter; but when your great toe
shall set you a roaring, it will be no affair of mine. If
gentlemen love the pleasant titillation of the gout, it is
all one to the Town Pump. This thirsty dog, with his
red tongue "Tolling out, does not scorn my "^hospitality,
but stands on his hind legs, and laps eagerly out of the
trough. See, how lightly he + capers away again ! Jow-
ler, did your worship ever have the gout ?
v
11. Your pardon ,
good people'! I must interrupt
!

ECLECTIC SERIES. 197

my stream of + eloquence,
and spout forth a stream of
water, to + replenish the trough for this teamster and his
two yoke of oxen, who have come all the way from
Staunton, or somewhere along that way. No part of
my business gives me more pleasure than the watering
of cattle. LookM how rapidly they lower the water-
mark on the sides of the trough, till their + capacious
stomachs are moistened with a gallon or two apiece, and
they can afford time to breathe, with sighs of calm
enjoyment. Now they roll their quiet eyes around the
brim of their monstrous drinking-vessel. An ox is your
true toper.
12. I .hold myself the grand + reformer of the age.
From my and such spouts as mine, must flow the
spout,
stream that shall cleanse our earth of a vast portion of
its crime and anguish, which have gushed from the fiery

fountains of the still. In this mighty ^enterprise, the


cow shall be my great confederate. Milk arid water
13. Ahem! Dry work, this ^speechifying, especially
to all unpracticed orators. I never conceived, till now,
what toil the temperance lecturers undergo for my sake.
Do, some kind Christian, pump a stroke or two, just to
wet15.my whistle. Thank you, sir. But to proceed.
14. The Town Pump and the Cow! Such is the glori-
ous partnership, that shall finally monopolize the whole
business of quenching thirst. Blessed consummation !

Then, Poverty shall pass away from the land, finding no


hovel so wretched, where her squalid form may shelter
itself. Then, Disease, for lack of other victims, shall
gnaw his own heart and die. Then, Sin, if she do not
die, shall lose half her strength.
Then, there will be no war of households. The
husband and the wife, drinking deep of peaceful joy, a
calm bliss of temperate affections, shall pass hand in
hand through life, and lie down, not reluctantly, at its
protracted close. To them, the past will be no turmoil
of mad dreams, nor the future an eternity of such
moments as follow the delirium of the drunkard. Their
dead faces shall express what their spirits were, and are
to be, by a lingering smile of memory and hope.
——
198 NEW FIFTH READER.
16. Drink, then, and be refreshed! The water is as
pure and cold as when it slaked the thirst of the red
hunter, and flowed beneath the aged bough, though now
this gem of the wilderness is treasured under these hot
stones, where no shadow falls, but from the brick build-
ings. But, still is this '‘'fountain the source of health,
peace, and happiness, and I behold with certainty and
joy, the approach of the period, when the virtues of
cold water, too little valued since our father’s days, will
be fully + appreciated and + recognized by all.
Exercise .
Describe the various characters who are supposed
to approach the pump for a drink, and the pump’s remarks to them.

LESSON LIX.

Ex-act'; v. to compel to pay.


Nom'i-nat-ed ;
v. named.
For'feit; n. that to which the
Pej/al-ty; n. the suffering or
right is lost by breach of con-
loss to which one is subjected
tract.
by not fulfilling certain con-
Car'ri-on ;
adj. putrid.
ditions.
Duc'at; n. a piece of money worth
Con'fis-cate; adj. taken away
from one to two dollars.
and devoted to the public use.
Hu'mor ;
n. disposition; fancy.
Ai/ien; n. (pro. ale'yen), one who
Ban'cd; v. poisoned. is not entitled to the privilege
Gap'ing ;
adj. open-mouthed. of a citizen.
Strained ;
v. forced. Cof'fer; n. treasury.
Ex-po-si'tion ;
n. explanation. Ten'or; n. meaning.

SHYLOCK, OR THE POUND OF FLESH.


Remark. Let the pupil stand at a distance from the teacher,
and try to read so loud and distinctly, that the teacher may hear each
syllable.

Articulate distinctly. Do not say 'penlt-y for pen-al-ty; quality


for quaW-ty perfry for ;
per-ju-ry; law-fly for law-fwfly; ex-psi-
iion for ex-po-si-tion ;
prin-cp'l for prin-ct-pal ;
in-d'rect for in-di-rect.

Judge. What!
Antonio here? is

Antonio. Ready, so please your grace.


ECLECTIC SERIES. 199

Ju. I amsorry for thee; thou art come to answer


A stony "’adversary, an inhuman wretch,
+ Incapable of pity.

Ant. I am armed to suffer.

[Enter Shylock .]
Ju. Dost thou now exact the penalty,
Which is a pound of this poor merchant’s flesh?
Shy. By our holy Sahbath, I have sworn,
To have the due and forfeit of my bond.
Ju. This is no answer, thou unfeeling man,
To excuse the + current of thy + cruelty.
Shy. I am not bound to please thee with my answer.
You’ll ask me why I rather choose to have
A. weight of carrion flesh, than to receive
Three thousand ducats. I ’ll not answer that:
But say it .is my humor. Is it answered?
What if my house be troubled with a rat,
And I be pleased to give ten thousand ducats
To have it baned? What, are you answered yet?
Some men there are, love not a gaping pig;
Some, that are mad, if they behold a cat;
As there is no firm reason to be + rendered,
Why one can not abide a gaping pig;
Another, a harmless, + necessary cat;
So can I give no reason, and I will not,
More than a lodged hate, and a certain loathing
I bear Antonio, that I follow thus
A losing suit against him.
Ju. Do all men kill the things they do not love?
Shy. Hates any man the thing he would not kill?

Ant. For thy three thousand ducats, here are_six.

Shy. If every ducat in six thousand ducats


Were in six parts, and every part a ducat,
I would not draw them; I would have my bond.
Ju. How shalt thou hope for mercy, + rendering none?
Shy. The pound of which I demand of him,
flesh
Is dearlybought is mine; and I will have it:
;

If you deny me, fy upon your law!


: ; !

200 NEW FIFTH READER.


I stand for +judgment; answer; shall 1 have it?

Ju. Antonio, do you confess the bond?


Ant. I do.

Ju. Then must the Jew be merciful.


Shy. On what + compulsion must I? tell me that.
Ju. The quality of mercy is not + strained;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath; it is twice blessed;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.

Shy. My deeds upon my head ! I + crave the law,


The penalty and forfeit of my bond.
Ju. Is he not able to discharge the money?
Ant. Yes, here I tender it to him in the court
Yea, twice and thrice the sum.
Shy. I’ll have my bond, I will not take thy offer.

Ju. There no power in Yenice


is

Can alter a Adeeree + established.


Shy. O wise, wise Judge, how do I honor thee
Ju. I pray you let me look upon the bond.
( Gives it to the Judge.)

Shy. Here ’t is, most + reverend doctor,* here it is.

Ju. Shylock, there’s thrice thy money offered thee.


Shy. An oath, an oath, I have in Heaven :

Shall I lay perjury upon my soul?


Ho, not for Yenice.
Ju. Why, this bond is forfeit
And lawfully by this the Jew may claim
A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off
Nearest the merchant’s heart; be merciful;
Take thrice the money; bid me tear the bond.
Shy. When it is paid according to the tenor.
You know the law, your + exposition
Hath been most sound.
There is no power in the tongue of man
~ To alter me: I stand here on my bond.
* This word here means a learned man.
! ; ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 201

Ant. Most heartily do I beseech the court


To give the judgment.
Ju. Why, then, thus it is.
You must prepare you bosom for his knife.

Shy. O noble Judge!


Ju. For the intent and purpose of the law
Hath full relation to the penalty,
Which here appeareth due unto the bond.
Shy. ’Tis very true: O wise and upright Judge!
Ju. Therefore, lay bare your bosom. ( To Antonio.')

Shy. Ay, his breast:


So says the bond; does it not, noble Judge?

Nearest his heart, those are the very words.


Ju. It is so. Are there balance here, to weigh
The flesh?

Shy. I have them ready.


Ju. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge.
To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death.
Shy. Is it so nominated in the bond?
Ju. It is not so expressed; but what of that f
'Twere good you do so much in charity.

Shy. I can not find it; ’tis not in the bond.


Ju. Come, merchant, have you any thing to say?
Ant. But little; I am armed and well prepared.
Ju. Shylock! A pound of that same merchant’s flesh is
thine
The court awards it, and the law doth give it.
Shy. Most rightful Judge!
Ju. And you must cut the flesh from ofl* his breast
The law allows it, and the court awards it.
Shy. Most learned Judge ! A sentence : come, prepare.
Ju. Tarry a little there is something else.
;

This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood;


The words expressly are, a pound of flesh
But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed
One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods
202 NEW FIFTH READER.
Are, by the law of Yenice, confiscate
Unto the State of Yenice.
Shy. Is that the law?
Ju. Thyself shalt see the act;
For, as thou urgest justice, be + assured
Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desirest.

Shy. I take his offer, then ;


pay the bond thrice,
And let the Christian go.
Ju. The Jew shall have all justice; soft! no haste!
He shall have nothing but the penalty.
Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flesh.
Shed thou not blood; nor cut thou less nor more,
Than just one pound; be it but so much
As makes it light or heavy, in the substance,
Or the division of the twentieth part
Of one poor h scruple; nay, if the scale do turn
But in the ^estimation of a hair,
Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate.
Why doth the Jew pause? take thy ''forfeiture.
Shy. Give me my ‘"principal, and let me go.

Ju. Thou hast refused it open court;


in the
Thou shalt have merely justice, and the bond.
Shy. Shall I not barely have my + principal?

Ju. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture,


To be so taken at thy peril, Jew.
Shy. Why, then, the devil give him good of it!
I’ll stay no longer question.
Ju. Tarry, Jew:
The law hath yet another hold on you.
It is enacted in the laws of Yenice,
If it be proved against an alien,
That by direct or indirect + attempts,
He seeks the life of any citizen,
The party ’gainst the which he doth + contrive,
Shall seize one half his goods; and the other half
Comes to the privy coffer of the State,
And the offender’s life lies in the mercy
Of the court only.
— ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 203

Shy. Take my life, then, and and pardon not that.


all,

You take my house, when you do take the prop


Thai; doth sustain my house; you take my life,
When you do take the means by which I live.
Ju. The court in mercy spares thy life,
But the forfeiture of thy estate,
Comes not within our power to + re.medy
The law is strict in its demands of justice.
Are you + contented, Jew ? What dost thou say?
Shy. I pray you, give me leave to go from hence;
I am not well O give me leave to go
;

Where I may die in peace:


Since what I hold dearer than my life,

Is taken from me.


Ju. The court has mercy on your life;

Go, repent, and live,


And with a softer heart, remember mercy too.

Exercises AVhy did Shylock choose the pound of flesh rather


.

than the payment of his debt? What does he mean by saying “my
deeds upon my head?” In whose favor does the judge decide? How
does he eventually relieve Antonio from his danger? How is Shy-
lock punished? Was his punishment just? Why?
In the last three lines, which are the verbs? Which of them is in
the indicative mode? Which are in the imperative mode? What
does the word indicative mean? Why is this mode so called? What
does the word imperative mean? See Pinneo’s Analytical Grammar,
page 68, Art. 163.

EXERCISE XXVII.
When similar sounds come at the end of one word, and at the be-
ginning of the next, they must not be blended.

He sinks sorrowing to the tomb. Man loves society. Time


flies swiftly. The birds sing. Man never dies. The hear;! Aims
away. The lip pants. The dim mournful liglH /ries vainly to
enter. The quic/c crea/c comes grating. Give vantage ground.
B

204 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON LX.

1. Im-per-cep /ti-ble ;
adj. not to \
9. Ban'di-cd ;
v. tossed about.
be perceived. > 10. Bac-cha-na/ lian ;
adj. revel-
1. In-cip'i-ent ;
adj. commencing; ing in intemperance.
^
beginning. > 11. Phys'Tc-al ;
adj. material ;
ex-
2. Dex-tek/i-ty ;
n. expertness; 5 ternal.
skill. \
12. Di'a-lect; n. a particular
3. Pro-pen'si-ties ;
n. bent of ? form of speech.
mind; inclination. > 12. Re-cep'ta-cles; n. places
4. Fas-ci-na'tion; n. a powerful \
where any thing is received.
influence on the affections. ? 13. Glad'j-a-tor ;
n. a prize-
4. Stim'u-lus; n. something which > fighter.
excites. ]
13. A-re'na ;
n. an open space.
7. Can'ons ;
n. rules. ? 14. Ri/mt-nat-ing; v. meditating.
8. Callous; adj. insensible; un- > 15. Ret-ri-bu'tion ;
n. recom-
feeling. <
pense.

EFFECTS OF GAMBLING.
Remark. — e careful to observe the commas and other points,
making an appropriate pause at each one of them.

1. The love of gambling steals, perhaps, more often


than any other sin, with an imperceptible influence on
its victim.Its first + pretext is + inconsiderable, and
falsely termed innocent play, with no more than the
gentle + excitement necessary to amusement. This plea,
once indulged, is but too often “as the letting out of
water.” The Pride of
interest imperceptibly grows.
superior opportunity, avarice, and all the '•'over-
skill,
whelming passions of depraved nature, ally themselves
with the incipient and growing fondness. Dam and
dike are swept away. The victim struggles in vain,
and is borne down by the + uncontrolled current.
2. Thousands have given scope to the + latent guilty
avarice, unconscious of the guest they harbored in their
bosoms. Thousands have exulted over the avails of
gambling, without comprehending the baseness of using
!

ECLECTIC SERIES. 205

•themoney of another, won without honest industry,


obtained without an "'"equivalent and perhaps from the
:

+ simplicity, rashness, and Mul-


"‘"inexperience of youth.
titudes have commenced gambling, thinking only to win
a small sum, and prove their superior skill and dexterity,
and there pause.
3. But it is the teaching of all time, it is the expe-

rience of human nature, that effectual "‘"resistance to


powerful propensities, if made at all, is usually made
before the "‘"commission of the first sin. My dear reader
let me implore you, by the mercies of God and the
worth of your soul, to + contemplate this enormous evil
only from a distance. Stand firmly against the first
temptation, under whatsoever "'"specious forms it may
assail you. “Touch not.” “Handle not.” “Enter not
into temptation.”
4. It is the "‘"melancholyand well-known character
of this sin, that, where once an appetite for it has gained
possession of the breast, the common motives, the gentle
excitements, and the ordinary 'Inducements to business
or amusement, are no longer felt. It incorporates itself
with the whole body of thought, and fills with its fasci-
nation the desires of the heart. Nothing can hence-
all
forward arouse the spell-bound victim to a "‘"pleasurable
"‘"consciousness of existence, but the destructive stimulus
of gambling.
5. Another "‘"appalling view of gambling is, that it is

the prolific stem, the fruitful parent of all other vices.


,
Blas-
phemy, falsehood, cheating, drunkenness, quarreling,
and murder, are all naturally connected with gambling;
and what has been said, with so much power and truth,
of another sin, may, with equal emphasis and truth, be
asserted of this: “Allow yourself to become a + con-
firmed gambler, and detestable as this practice is, it
will soon be only one among many gross sins of which
you will be guilty.” Giving yourself up to the indul-
gence of another sinful course, might prove your ruin;
but then you might perish only under the guilt of the
"‘"indulgence of a single gross sin.
6. But, should you become a gambler, you will, in all
206 NEW FIFTH READER.
probability, descend to destruction with the added in-
famy of having been the slave of all kinds of iniquity,
and “led captive by Satan at his will.” Gambling
seizes hold of all the passions, allies itself with all the
appetites,and compels every propensity to pay ^tribute.
The subject, however plausible in his external deport-
ment, becomes + avaricious, greedy, + in satiable. Medita-
tions upon the card-table occupy all his day and night
dreams. Had he the power, he would '’'annihilate all
the hours of this our short life, that necessarily '’inter-
vene between the periods of his favorite pursuit.
7. Cheating is a sure and ’’inseparable attendant upon

a continued course of gambling. We well know with


what horror the canons of the card-table repel this
charge. It pains us to assert our deep and deliberate
conviction of its truth. There must be prostration of
moral principle, and silence of conscience, even to begin
with it. Surely a man who regards the natural sense
of right, laying the '’obligations of Christianity out of
the question, can not sit down with the purpose to win
the money of another in this way.
8. He must be aware, in doing it, that avarice and

dishonest thoughts, it may


be almost '’'unconsciously to
himself, mingle with his motives. Having once closed
his eyes upon the unworthiness of his motives, and de-
ceived himself, he begins to study hoy he may deceive
others. Every moralist has remarked upon the delicacy
of conscience; and that, from the #rst + violation, it be-
10.
comes .more and more callous, until finally it sleeps a
sleep as of death, and ceases to + remonstrate.
9. The gambler is less and less scrupulous about the

modes of winning, so that he can win. No person will


be long near the gambling-table of high/stakes, be the
standing of the players what it may, without hearing
the charge of cheating bandied back and forward; or
reading the '’'indignant expression of it in their coun-
tenances. One half of our fatal duels have their im-
mediate or remote origin in insinuations of this sort.
The alternations of loss and gain the + preternat-
;

ural excitement of the mind, and consequent depression


;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 207

when that excitement has passed away ;


the bacchana-
lian merriment of guilty associates; the loss of natural
rest; in short, the very ’’'atmosphere of the gambling-
table, foster the temperament of hard drinking. A keen
sense of interest may, indeed, and often does, restrain
the gambler, while actually engaged in his employment,
11. he may possess the ’’requisite coolness to watch
that
his ’’'antagonist, and avail himself of every passing ad-
vantage.
But the moment the high excitement of play is
intermitted, the moment the passions ’’'vibrate back to
the state of repose, what shall sustain the sinking
spirits; what shall renerve the relaxed physical nature
12.
what shall fortify the mind against the tortures of con-
science, and the thoughts of “a judgment to come,” but
’’'intoxication?It is the experience of all time, that a
person is seldom a gambler for any considerable period,
without being also a drunkard.
Blasphemy follows, as a thing of course; and is,
indeed, the well-known and universal dialect of the
gambler. How often has my heart sank within me,
as 13.
I have passed the dark and dire receptacles of the
gambler, and seen the red and bloated faces, and ’’'in-
haled the mingled smells of tobacco and ’’'potent drink
and heard the loud, strange, and horrid curses of the
players; realizing the while, that these beings so oc-
cupied were ’’'candidates for eternity, and now on the
course which, if not speedily forsaken, would fix them
forever in hell.
We have already said, that gambling naturally
leads to quarreling and murder. Howoften have we
retired to our berth in the steam-boat,and heard charges
of dishonesty, accents of + reviling and + recrimination,
and hints that these charges must be met and settled at
another time and place, ring in our ears, as we have
been attempting to commune with God, and settle in a
right frame to repose! Many ’’’corses of young men,
who met a violent death from this cause, have we seen
carried to their long home! Every gambler, in the
region where we write, is always armed to the teeth,
!

208 NEW. FIFTH READER.


and goes to this horrid pursuit, as the gladiator formerly
presented himself on the arena of combat.
14. The picture receives deeper shades, if we take into
the grouping the wife or the daughter or the mother who
, , ,

lies sleepless, and ruminating through the long night,


trembling lest her midnight + retirement shall be in-
vaded by those who bring back the husband and the
father wounded or slain, in one of those sudden + frays
which the card-table, its accompaniments, and the pas-
sions it excites, so frequently generate. Suppose these
+ forebodings should not be realized, and that he should

steal home .alive in the morning, with beggary and


drunkenness, guilt and despair, written on his +haggard
countenance, and accents of sullenness and ill-temper
falling from his tongue, how + insupportably gloomy
must be the prospects of the future to that family
15. These are but feeble and general sketches of the
misery and ruin to individuals and to society from the
Indulgence of this vice, during the present life. If the
wishes of unbelief were true, and there were no life
after this, what perverse and miserable ^calculations
would be those of the gambler, taking into view only
the present world! But, in any view of the character
and consequences of gambling, who shall dare close his
eyes upon its future hearing on the interests and the
eternal welfare of his soul! Who shall dare lay out of
the calculation the retributions of + eternity?
16. Each of the sins that enters into this deadly com-
pound of them all, must incur the threatened displeasure
and punishment of the Almighty. If there be degrees
in the misery and despair of the + tenants of that region.,
“where the worm dieth not, and the tire is not quenched,”
how must the + persevering and + impenitent gambler
sink, as if “a millstone were hung about his neck, and
he cast into the sea!” Say thou, my youthful reader,
I implore thee, looking up to the Lord for a firm and
unalterable purpose, “I will hold fast my integrity and
not let it go.”

ECLECTIC SERIES- 209

LESSON LXI.

4. Vig^-lance ;
watchfulness.
4. De-crep'it ;
a. wasted with age.
5. Prone; adj. bending down; not
3. Phan'tom; n. a fancied vision; erect.

a specter.
3 A -wnv^- str?! < nvn n-rri'\ fnvnorl l
6. UN-ALMS'eD adj. (pro. UU-amzd')
J

fiot having received alms, or


charitable assistance.

THE MISER.
Remarjk. Remember that the chief beauty and excellence of
reading consists in a clear and smooth articulation of the words and
letters.

Pronounce correctly the following words in this lesson. Do


not say sa-cri-fisd for sac-ri-fic’d, (pro. sac-ri-fiz' d) be-nev-er-lvnce

for be-nev-o-lence ;
of-fud for of-ferd; bit-ter-niss for bit-ter-ncss;

y el-low ; fol-lerd for fo\-\ow d;


yal-ler for il-lus-trous for il-lus-tri-ous;

ub-un-dunce for a-bun-dance.

1. Gold, many hunted, sweat, and bled for gold;


Waked all the night, and labored all the day;
And what was this allurement, dost thou ask ?
A dust dug from the + bowels of the earth,
Which being came out
cast into the fire,
A shining thing that fools admired, and called
A god and in devout and humble plight
;

Before it kneeled, the greater to the less.

2. They, on its altar, + sacrificed ease and peace,


Truth, faith, + integrity, good conscience, friends,
Love, + charity, + benevolence, and all
The sweet and tender + sympathies of life;
And, to complete the horrid, "''murderous rite,
And + signalize their folly,
offered up
Their souls, and an eternity of bliss,
To gain them; what ? an hour of dreaming joy,
A feverish hour that hasted to be done,
And ended in the + bitternes8 of woe.
— !

210 NEW FIFTH READER.


3. Most, for the '’'luxuries it bought, the + pomp,
The praise, the glitter, fashion, and renown,
This yellow phantom followed and adored.
But there was one in folly further gone,
With eye awry, + incurable, and wild,
The laughing-stock of devils and of men,
And by his ’’'guardian angel quite given up;
The miser who with dust inanimate
,

Held wedded ’’’intercourse.

4. . Ill-guided wretch
Thou might’st have seen him at the midnight hour,
When gbod men slept, and in light-winged dreams
Ascended up to God— in wasteful hall,
With vigilance and fasting, worn to skin
And bone, and wrapped in most ’’’debasing rags,
Thou might’st have seen him bending o’er his heaps,
And holding strange communion with his gold;
And, as his thievish fancy seemed to hear
The night-man’s foot approach, starting alarmed,
And in his old, decrepit, withered hand,
That palsy shook, grasping the yellow earth
To make it sure.

5. Of all God made upright,


And in their nostrils breathed a living soul,
Most fallen, most prone, most earthy, most ’’’debased,
Of all that sold Eternity for Time,
None bargained o'n so easy terms with Death.
6. ’’Illustrious fool! Nay, most ’’inhuman wretch!
He sat among his bags, and, with a look
Which hell might be ashamed of, drove the poor
Away unalmsed, and mid + abundance died,
Sorest of evils ! died of utter want.

Exercises .
Describe the miser as here painted. What became
of him?
In the first sentence “gold, many hunted,” what is the subject ?
What, the attribute? What modifier has the attribute? In what case?
How governed? See Pinneo’s Analytical Grammar, page 140, Ex.
100, and Rule III.
.

ECLECTIC SERIES. 211

LESSON LX1 1

I. Im-pe'ri-ous ;
adj. urgent; not £
3. Sanct'u-a-ry ;
n. a sacred
to be opposed. s place; a place of protection.
1. An-tag'o-nist; n. an opponent; >5. An-i-mad-vert'ed ;
v. cen-
one who contends with an- ^
sured; reproved.
other in combat. 7. Com-punc/tion; n. remorse;
2. Poignant; adj. (pro .poin'ant) ? sorrow from a consciousness
sharp.; severe. s of guilt.

2. Par'a-lyz-cd v. deprived of 8 Plen'i-tude


-
;
n. fullness ;
com-
;

the power of action. > pleteness.

CRIMINALITY OF DUELING.
In 1804, Alexander Hamilton was challenged by Aaron Burr. Both
were distinguished American Statesmen, but Burr envied Hamilton's
popularity. Hamilton felt compelled by the force of public opinion
to accept the challenge, but fired his pistol in the air, and was him-

self killed by Burr. The following is from an address by Dr. Nott.

1. Hamilton yielded to the force of an imperious

custom; and yielding, he "’'sacrificed a life in which all


had an interest; and he is lost, lost to his country, lost
to his family, lost to us. For this rash act, because he
+ diselaimed it, and was penitent, I forgive him. But
there are those whom I can not forgive. I mean not his
antagonist, over whose erring steps, if there be tears in
heaven, a pious mother looks down and weeps.
2. If he be capable of feeling, he suffers already all

that humanity can suffer: suffers, and wherever he may


fly, will suffer, with the poignant "•'recollection of having

taken the life of one, who was too + magnanimous in


return to attempt his own. If he had known this, it
must have paralyzed his arm while he pointed, at so
+ incorruptible a bosom, the + instrument
of death. Does
he know this now, his heart, if it be not "•'adamant, must
soften if it be not ice, it must melt. * * * But on this
;

'article I forbear. Stained with blood as he is, if he be


penitent I forgive him; and if he be not, before these
altars, where all of us appear as + suppliants, I wish not
5tk Rd. 18.
212 NEW FIFTH READER.
to excite your + vengeance, but rather, in behalf of an
object rendered wretched and + pitiable by crime, to
wake your prayers.
3. But I have said, and I repeat it, there are those
whom I can not forgive. I can not forgive that minis-
ter at the altar, who
has hitherto forborne to remon-
strate on I can not forgive that public
this subject.
+ prosecutor, who, intrusted with the duty of avenging

his country’s wrongs, has seen these wrongs and taken


no measures to + avenge them. I can not forgive that
judge upon the bench, or that governor in the chair of
State, who has lightly passed over such offenses. I can
not forgive the public, in whose opinion the + duelist
finds a sanctuary. I can not forgive you, my brethren,
who till this late hour have been silent, while + succes-
sive murders were committed.
4. No; I can not forgive 3 0 U, that you have not in
'
7

common with the freemen of this State, raised your


voice to the powers that be, and loudly and + explicitly
demanded an + execution of your laws; demanded this
in a manner, which, if it did not reach the ear of gov-
ernment, would at least have reached the heavens, and
have pleaded your excuse before the God that filleth
them; in whose presence as I stand, I should not feel
myself innocent of the blood that crieth against us, had
I been silent.
5. But I have not been silent. Many of you who
hear me are my witnesses; the walls of yonder temple,
where have heretofore addressed you, are my wit-
I
nesses, how
freely I have animadverted on this subject,
in the presence both of those who have + violated the
laws, and of those whose + indispensable duty it is to see
the laws executed on those who violate them.
6. I enjoy another '’'opportunity; and would to God,

I might be permitted to approach for once the last scene


of death. Would to God, I could there assemble, on the
one side, the + diseonsolate mother with her seven father-
less children, and, on the other, those who administer
the justice of my country. Could I do this, I would
point them to these sad objects.
— ! ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 213

would entreat them, by the agonies of + bereaved


7. I
fondness, to listen to the widow’s heart-felt groans; to
mark the orphan’s sighs and tears; and having done
C this, I would uncover the breathless corpse of Hamilton
I would lift from his gaping wound his bloody mantle
b would hold it up to heaven before them, and I would
sask, in the name of G-od, I would ask, whether at the
sight of it they felt no compunction. Ye who have
hearts of pity; ye who have experienced the + anguish
of + dissolving friendship who have wept, and still weep
;

over the + moldering ruins of departed kindred, ye can


enter into this + reflection.
8. O thou disconsolate widow! robbed, so cruelly
robbed, and in so short a time, both of husband and a
son! what must be the plenitude of thy suffering!
• Could we approach thee, gladly would we drop the tear
of + sympathy, and pour into thy bleeding bosom the
balm of + consolation But how could we comfort her
!

whom God hath not comforted! To his throne let us


lift up our voices and weep. O God! if thou art still
the widow’s husband, and the father of the fatherless;
if in the fullness of thy goodness, there be yet mercy in
store for + miserable mortals, pity, O pity this afflicted
mother, and grant that her hapless + orphans may find a
friend, a ^benefactor, a father in Thee
Exercises . Who was Hamilton? Who was Burr ? What were
the circumstances of their duel? What is said of Hamilton? What
is said of his antagonist Burr who killed him? What is said of the
minister of the altar? Of the public prosecutor? Of the judge? Is
there any excuse for the duelist?

Parse each of the first nine words. State which is the subject, and
which the attribute of that sentence. What preposition connects the
objective modifier “force” to the attribute “yielded.”

EXERCISE XXVIII.
The tale thrill'd his heart. The thrifty man prospers. They
threaded the narrow streets with scarcely a ray of light. Youth's
thoughtlessness heeds not the truths which the experience of age
teaches.
214 NEW FIFTH HEADER.

LESSON LX1 1 1.

A- version n. dislike.
;
De-ris'ion; n. the act of laughing
^

Fron-y n. language intended


;
to \ at in contempt.
convey a meaning contrary to In-com-pat'i-ble; adj. tliat can
j
its literal signification. \ not exist together.

TIT FOR TAT.


Articulate distinctly. Do not say s prise for swr-prise; d'rect-Jy

for ch'-recOy ;
ole maid for olcZ maid; juss for jusi; vn-der-stan for
un-der-stano?; slight-es for slight-esi ;
ob-jec for ob-jec/.

Mrs. Bolingbrolce. I wish I. knew what was the matter


with me this morning. Why do yon keep the '‘'news-
paper all to yourself, my dear?
Mr. Bolingbroke. Here it is for you, my dear; I have
finished it.
Mrs. B. I humbly thank you for giving it to me
when you have done with it. I hate + stale news. Is
there any thing in the paper? for I can not be at the
trouble of .hunting it.
Air. B. Yes, my dear; there are the marriages of two
of our friends.
Mrs. B. Who? Who?
Mr. B. Your friend, the widow Nettleby, to her cousin
John Mettleby.
Mrs. B. Mrs. Mettleby? Dear! But why did you
tell me ?
Mr. B. Because you asked me, my dear.
Mrs. B. O, but it is a hundred times pleasanter to
read the + paragraph one’s self. One loses all the pleas-
ure of the '‘'surprise by being told. Well, whose was the
other marriage?
Mr. B. O, my dear, I will not tell you; I will leave
you the pleasure of the surprise.
Mrs. B. But you see I can not find it. How + pro-
voking you are, my dear Do pray tell me.
!

Mr. B. Our friend, Mr. Granby.


ECLECTIC SERIES. 215

Mrs. B. Mr. Granby? Dear! Why did you not make


me guess? I should have guessed him directly. But
why do you call him our friend? I am sure he is no
friend of mine, nor ever was. I took an aversion to
him, as you + remember, the very first day I saw him. I
am sure he is no friend of mine.
Mr. B. I am sorry for it, my dear; hut I hope you
will go and see Mrs. Granby.
Mrs. B. Not I, indeed, my dear. Who was she?
Mr. B. Miss Cooke.
Mrs. B. Cooke? But there are so many Cookes.
Can’t you distinguish her any way? Has she no
Christian name?
Mr. B. Emma, I think. Yes, Emma.
Mrs. B. Emma Cooke? No; it can not he my friend
Emma Cooke ;
for I am sure she was cut out for an old
maid.
Mr. B. This lady seems to me to be cut out for a good
wife.
Mrs. B. May be so. I am sure I’ll never go to see
her. Pray, my dear, how came you to see so much of
her?
Mr. B. I have seen very little of her, my dear. I
only saw her two or three times before she Avas mar-
ried.
Mrs. B. Then, my dear, how could you decide, that
she Avas cut out for a good Avife? I am sure you could
not judge of her by seeing her only two or three times,
and before she Avas married.
Mr. B. Indeed, my love, that is a very just dbserva-
tion.
Mrs. B. I understand that '’’compliment '’’perfectly,
and thank you for it, my dear. I must oavii I can bear
any thing better than irony.
Mr. B. Irony? my dear, I was perfectly in earnest.
Mrs. B. Yes, yes; in earnest; so I perceive; I may
naturally be dull of + apprehension, but my feelings are
quick enough; I comprehend too Avell. Yes, it is im-
possible to judge of a woman before marriage, or to
guess Avhat sort of a Avife she will make. I presume you
! . —
216 NEW FIFTH HEADER.
speak from + experience; you have been + disappointed

yourself, and repent your choice.


Mr. B. My
what did I say that was like this?
dear,
Upon my word, meant no such thing. I really was
I
not thinking of you in the least.
Mrs. B. No, you never think of me now. I can
easily believe that you were not thinking of me in the
least.
Mr. B. But I said that, only to prove to you that I
could not be thinking ill of you, my dear.
Mrs. B. But I would rather that you thought ill of
me, than that you should not think of me at all.
Mr. B. Well, my dear, I will even think ill of you,
if that will please you.
Mrs. B. Do you laugh at me? When it comes to
this, I am wretched Never man laughed at the
indeed.
woman he loved. As long as you had the slightest
remains of love for me, you could not make me an
object of derision; + ridicule and love are incompatible,
Well, I have done my best,
'
h
absolutely incompatible.
my very best, to make you happy, but in vain. I see I
am not cut out to be a good wife. Happy, happy Mrs.
Granby
Mr. B. + sincerely, that she will be
Happy, I hope
with my my
happiness must depend on you,
friend; but
my love; so, for my sake, if not for your own, be com-
posed, and do not Horment yourself with such + fancies.
Mrs. B. I do wonder whether this Mrs. Granby is
really that Miss Emma Cooke. I ’ll go and see her
directly see her I must.
;

Mr. B. I am heartily glad of it, my dear; for I am


sure a visit to his wife will give my friend Granby real
pleasure.
Mrs. B. I promise you, my dear, I do not go to give
him pleasure, or you either, but to + satisfy my own
+ curiosity

Exercise. What inflections are proper at the pauses in the


last two sentences?
ECLECTIC SERIES. 217

1.
LESSON LXI V.

Surg'es; n. large waves. 4. Dex-ter'i-ty ;


n. activity;
j

1. Vob-ca/noes; n. burning moun- > skill. [burned,


2.
tains. ) 6. Com-bus'ti-ble; adj. easily

1. Ex-plod'ing; v. throwing out 7. Earth/ quake; n. a shaking


with force and a loud report. \ of the earth.
2. Con-vui/sion ;
n. commotion; 8. Am-phi-the'a-ter; n. a build-
j

tumult. \ ing of a round form forpub-


Myr'i-ad; n. a very great num- \ lie amusements.

ber. ^ 8. A-Re'na; n. an open space of


2. Con-fla-gra'tion ;
n. a great \
ground.
fire. <11. Ca-tas'tro-phe; n. an unfor-
3. La'va; n. melted matter from l tunate end.
a volcano. '
11. Ob'vi-ous-ly; adv. evidently.

CONFLAGRATION OF AN AMPHITHEATER.
Pronounce correctly. Do not say bil-lers for bil-lows; vol-lum
for vol-ume, (pro. vol-yum ); nar-rer for nar-row;; hij-jns for huge-
ous; mix-ter nor mix-tshure for mixture; for-tu-net-ly for fort-u-
nate-ly ;
tre-men-jus nor tre-men-ju-ous for tre-men-efous.

1. Rome was an ocean of flame. Height and depth


were covered with red surges, that rolled before the
blast like an endless tide. The + billows burst up the
sides of the hills, which they turned into instant volca-
noes, exploding + volumes of smoke and fire; then
plunged into the depths in a hundred glowing + cata-
racts, then climbed and consumed again.
2. The distant sound of the city, in her convulsion,

went ta the soul. The air was filled with the steady
roar of the + advancing flame, the crash of falling houses,
and the + hideous outcry of the myriads, flying through
the streets, or surrounded and perishing in the confla-
gration.
3. All was clamor, violent ^struggle, and helpless
death. Men and women
of the highest rank were on
foot, + trampled by the' rabble, that had then lost all
respect for condition. One dense mass of miserable life,
218 NEW FIFTH READER.
+ irresistible
from its weight, crushed by the narrow
streets, and scorched by the flames over their heads,
rolled through the gates like an endless stream of black
lava.
4. fire had + originaiIy broken out upon the Pal-
The
atine, and hot smoke, that wrapped and half-blinded us,,
hung thick as night upon the wrecks of pavilions and
palaces; but the dexterity and knowledge of my inex-
plicable guide carried us on.
5. It was upon knowing the
in vain that I insisted
purpose of this terrible traverse. He
pressed his hand
upon his heart in + r e-assurance of his fidelity, and still
sjmrred on. We now passed under the shade of an
immense range of lofty buildings, whose gloomy and
solid strength seemed to bid ‘'defiance to chance and
time.
6. A sudden yell appalled me. A ring of fire swept
round its summit burning + cordage, sheets of canvas,
:

and a shower of ail things combustible, flew into the air


above our heads. An uproar followed, unlike all that I
had ever heard, a hideous mixture of + howls, shrieks,
and groans.
7. The flames rolled down the narrow street before

us, and made the passage next to 'inrpossible. i


While
we hesitated, a huge fragment of the building heaved as
if in an earthquake, and, fortunately for us, fell inward.
The whole scene of terror was then open.
8. The great amphitheater of Statilius Taurus had

caught fire; the stage with its inflammable furniture,


was ‘Intensely blazing below. The flames were wheel-
ing up, circle after circle, through the seventy thousand
seats that rose from the ground to the roof. I stood in
+ unspeakable awe and wonder on the side of this ‘'‘colos-

sal cavern, this mighty temple of the city of fire. At


length, a descending blast clearedaway the smoke that
covered the arena.
9. The cause of those horrid cries was now visible.

The wild beasts kept for the games, had broken from
their dens. Maddened by fright and pain, lions, tigers,
j

panthers, wolves, whole herds of the monsters of India



ECLECTIC SERIES. 219

and Africa, were inclosed in an + impassable barrier of


fire.

10.They bounded, they fought, they screamed, they


tore they ran howling round and round the circle; they
;

made + desperate leaps upward through the blaze; they


were flung back, and fell only to fasten their fangs in
one another, and, with their parching jaws bathed in
blood, to die raging.
11. I looked + anxiously to see whether any human
being was involved in this fearful catastrophe. To my
great relief, I could see none. The keepers and attend-
ants had '''obviously escaped. As I expressed my glad-
ness, I was startled by a loud cry from my guide, the
first sound that I had heard him utter.
12. He pointed to the opposite side of the amphithe-
ater. There indeed sat an object of + melancholy inter-
est a man who had been either unable to escape, or had
;

determined to die. Escape was now impossible. He sat


in desperate calmness on his funeral pile. He was a
^gigantic Ethiopian slave, entirely naked.
13. He had chosen his place, as if in mockery, on the
+ imperial throne; the fire was above him and around

him, and under this tremendous + canopy he gazed, with-


out the movement of a muscle, on the combat of the
wild beasts below; a solitary sovereign, with the whole
tremendous game played for himself, and inaccessible to
the power of man.

Exercises . Where is Rome ? What is a conflagration ? What


had happened to Rome? What is an amphitheater? To whom do we
owe our preservation from fire, and from other calamities?

EXERCISE XXIX.
Thou indulged! st the appetite. 0 wind ! that waft'st us o’er the
main. Thou tempted'st him. Thou loved! st him fondly. Thou
credited'st his story. The lists are open. The light dazzl'd his
eyes. They were puzzHd by the intricacies of the path. In vain
thou muzzl'd! st the fierce beast.
5th Rd.' 19.
; ; ;

220 NEW FIFTH READER,

LESSON LX V.

Ar/ras; n. a kind of curtains A-non'; adv. soon; still and anon


(

hung around the walls of a i means, now and then, frequent-


room. > ly.

Un-clean'ly; adj. (pro. un-Tden'-\ Wince; v. to shrink back as from


, ly ), indecent. ? pain.
Wan'ton-ness ;
n. playfulness; S Chid; v. blamed; reproached.
sportiveness. An-noy'ance; n. any thing which
<j

Chris'ten-dom; n. territory of > injures or troubles.


Christians ;
used for christen- < Troth ;
n. truth ;
veracity,
ing or baptism; as if he said, ? Ex-tremes / ;
n. the greatest degree*
By my baptism. s of distress; undeserved extremes
Prate ;
n. familiar talk. < means, acts of cruelty which he
Sooth; n. truth. 5 had not deserved.
Rheum; n. (pro. rume), here used 5 Tarre ;
v. (pro. tar), to tease; to
for tears. [pity. set on.
(
/ Dog'ged;
Dis-pit e-ous; adj. cruel; without < adj. surly; stubborn.
Foul; adj. wicked; abominable. < Close'ly ;
adv. secretly ;
privately.

PRINCE ARTHUR.
Pronounce correctly. I-rons, pro. i-urns un-clean-ly, pro. un-
klen-ly Chris-ten-dom, pro. Kris n-dum pris-on, pro priz'n; .
min-
utes, pro. min-its ; pret-ty, pro. prit-ty.

Hubert. Heat me those irons hot; and, look, thou stand


Within the arras; when I strike my foot
Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth,
And bind the boy, which you shall find with me,
Fast to the chair; be heedful: hence, and watch.
First Attendant. I hope your + warrant will bear out the
deed.
Hub. Uncleanly "^scruples! Fear not you: look to it.

(Exeunt Attendants .)
Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you.
(Enter Arthur .)
Arthur. Good-morrow, Hubert.
Hub. Good-morrow, little prince.
Arth. As little prince (having so great a title
To be more prince) as may be. You are sad.
! : : ; : ! ; :

ECLECTIC SERIES. 221

Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier.


Arth. Mercy on me
Methinks no person should be sad but I
Yet I remember, when I was in France,
Young gentlemen would be as sad as night,
Only for wantonness. By my Christendom,
So I were out of prison, and kept sheep,
I should be merry as the day is long
And so would I be here, but that I doubt
My uncle +practices more harm to me
He is afraid of me, and I of him.
Is it my fault that I were Geoffrey’s son ?
Mo, indeed, is’t not; and I would to heaven
I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert,

Hub. If I talk to him, with his + innocent prate


He will awake my mercy, which lies dead
Therefore I will be sudden, and dispatch.
Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? You look pale to-day.
In sooth, I would you were a little sick,
That I might sit allnight, and watch with you,
I warrant I love you more than you do me.
Hub. His words do take possession of my bosom.
Head young Arthur.
here, ( Showing a paper.)
How now, foolish rheum? (Aside.)
Turning + dispiteous torture out of door
I must be brief, lest + resolution drop
Out at mine eyes, in tender womanish tears.
Can you not read it? Is it not fair writ?
Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect
Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes ?
Hub. Young boy, I must.
Arth. And will you?
Hub. And I will.
Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did but
ache,
I knit ray handkerchief about your brows,
(The best I had, a princess wrought it me),
And I did never ask it you again
; : . !

222 NEW FIFTH READER.


And with my hand,
midnight, held your head,
at
And minutes to the hour,
like the watchful
Still and anon cheered up the heavy time;
Saying, What lack you? and, Where lies your
grief?
Or,What good love may I perform for you?
Many a poor man’s son would have lain still,
And ne’er have spoke a loving word to you ;

But you at your sick service had a prince.


May, you may think my love was + crafty love,
And call it cunning: do, an if you will:
If heaven be pleased that you should use me ill,
Why, then you must. W
ill you put out mine eyes ?

These eyes, that never did, nor never shall,


So much as frown on you?
Hub. I have sworn to do it
And with hot irons must I burn them out.
Arth. Ah, none but in this iron age would do it:
The iron of itself, though heat red-hot, [tears,
Approaching near these eyes, would drink my
And + quench its + fiery indignation,
Even in the matter of mine innocence:
Nay, after that, consume away in rust,
But for containing fire to harm mine eye.
Are you more stubborn -hard than hammered iron ?
And if an angel should have come to me,
And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes,
I would not have believed him, no tongue but —
Hubert's.
Hub. Come forth ! (
Stamps .) (Re-enter Attendants with ,

Do as I bid you. [cord, irons ,


&c .)
Arth. O, save me, Hubert, save me ! My eyes are out
Even with the +fierce looks of these bloody men.
Hub. Grive me the iron, I say, and bind him here.
Arth. Alas ! what need you be so boisterous rough ?
I will not struggle, I will stand stone-still.
For heaven’s sake, Hubert let me not be bound
!

Nay, hear me, Hubert! drive these men away,


And I will sit as quiet as a lamb
; : ;: — !

ECLECTIC SERIES. 223


I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word,
Nor look upon the irons ’'angrily
Thrust but these men away, and I ’ll forgive you,
Whatever torment you do put me to.

Hub. Go stand within let me alone with him.


;

1st At. I am best pleased to be from such a deed. (Ex. At.}


Arth. Alas I then have chid away my friend
!

He hath a stern look but a gentle heart:


Let him come back, that his + compassion may
Give life to yours.

Hub. Come, boy, prepare yourself.


Arth. Is there no remedy?
Hub. None, but to lose your eyes.
Arth. O, heaven ! that there were but a mote in yours,
A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair,
Any annoyance in that + precious sense!
Then, feeling what small things are +boisterous

there,
Your vile f intent must needs seem horrible.

Hub. Is this your promise? Go to, hold your tongue!


Arth. Hubert, the + utterance of a tbrace of tongues
Must needs want pleading for a pair of eyes
Let me not hold my tongue let me not, Hubert !

Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue,


So I may keep mine eyes. O, spare mine eyes,
Though to no use, but still to look on you!
Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold,
And would not harm me.
Hub. I can heat it, boy.
Arth. No, in good sooth, the fire is dead with grief
Being create for comfort to be used —
In undeserved extremes. See else yourself
There is no malice in this burning coal;'
The breath of heaven hath blown its spirit out,
And + strewed repentant ashes on its head.
Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy.
Arth. And if you do, you will but make it blush
— ; ?

224 NEW FIFTH READER.


And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hu-
bert ;

Hay, it + perchance will sparkle in your eyes,

And, like a dog, that is + compelled to fight,


Snatch at his master that does tarre him on.
All things, that you should use to do me wrong,
Deny their office only you do lack ;

That mercy, which fierce fire and iron extend,


Creatures of note, for mercy-lacking uses.
Hub. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine eyes
For all the treasure that thy uncle owns
Yet I am sworn^ and I did purpose, boy,
With this same very iron to burn them out.

Arth. O,now you look like Hubert! all this while


You were + disguised.
Hub. Peace: no more: Adieu!
Your uncle must not know but you are dead :

I’ll fill these dogged + spies with false ^reports.


And, pretty child, sleep doubtless, and secure
That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world,
Will not offend thee.
Arth. O heaven! I thank you, Hubert.
Hub. Silence: no, more. Go closely in with me ;

Much danger do I undergo for thee.

Exekcis e s. Why was Hubert about to kill Arthur? What did


Arthur say ? What was the result of his entreaties?

What is the subject of the last sentence? What is the attribute

EXEECISE XXX.
The throne was throng'd with suppliants. The thrush and the
oriole seemd to vie in song. He is thorough through all. Spring-
ing swinging clinging the ape
, , ,
jumps from branch to branch. The
subjects were appropriate to the circumstances. Reflection is desira-
ble under difficult exigencies. A catapult is an engine for throwing
stones. A cataplasm is a soft poultice. Drifting ,
and almost
drown d, he drank the briny wave. From star to star the livid
lightnings flash.
; ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 225

LESSON LXVI.
>C
Can'ni-bals ;
n. men who eat liu- [
Coi/o-nt ;
n. a company of per-
man flesh. [vaders. sons removing to a new coun-
Ag-gress'ors; n. the first in- try, but remaining subject to
j

Ven / i-son ;
n. (pro. ven'e-z'n or? the parent country.
ven'zn ), the flesh of deer. ? Reg'i-ment; n. a body of troops.

CHARLES II. AND WILLIAM PENN.


Pronounce correctly. Do not say sav-ij-is for sav-a-ges ; kit-tle

for ket-tle ;
idee for i-de-a ; reg-i-munt for reg-i-ment ;
musle-its for

mus-kets ;
con-tra'ry for con'tra-ry ;
sub-jics for sub-jecfe ;
weap’n
for weap-on.

King Charles. Well v ,


friend William'! I have sold
you a noble province in North America; but still, I sup-
pose you have no thoughts of going thither yourself.
Penn. Yes, I have, I ^assure thee, friend Charles;
and I am come
to bid thee farewell.
just
K. C. Whatv
venture yourself among the + savages
!

of North America'! Why v man', what ^security have ,

you that you will not be in their war-kettle in two hours


after setting foot on their shores?
P. The best security in the world.
K. C. I doubt that, friend William; I have no idea
of any security, against those cannibals, but in a + regi-
ment of good soldiers, with their muskets and '•'bay-
onets. And mind v I tell you beforehand', that, with
,

all my good-will for you and your family, to whom I


am under '•'obligations, I will not send a single soldier
with you.
P. I want none of thy soldiers, Charles I depend on :

something better than thy soldiers.


K. C. Ah'! what may that'' be?
P. Why. I depend upon themselves'' on the working
of their own hearts'' on their notions of justice'' on their ;

moral sense.
226 NEW FIFTH READER.
K. C. A fine thing, this same moral sense no doubt; ,

but I fear you will not find much of it among the Indians
of North America.
P. And why not among them as well as others?
,

K. C. Because if they had possessed any, they would


-not have treated my ^subjects so ''barbarously as they
have done.
P. That no + proof of the 'Contrary, friend Charles.
is

Thy were the aggressors. When thy subjects


subjects
first went to North America, they found these poor
people the fondest and kindest creatures in the world.
Every day they would watch for them to come ashore,
,

and hasten to meet them, and feast them on the best fish,
and venison, and corn, which were all they had. In
return for this hospitality of the savages as we call
,

them, thy subjects, termed Christians seized on their


,

country and rich hunting grounds, for farms for them-


selves. Now, is it to be wondered at, that these much
injured people should have been driven to '•’desperation
by such '•'injustice; and that, burning with '•'revenge,
they should have committed some '•'excesses?
K. C. Well, then, I hope you will not domplain when
they come to treat you in the same manner.
P. I am not afraid of it.
K. C. Ah! how will you avoid it? You mean to get
their hunting grounds too, I suppose?
P. Yes v but not by driving these poor people away
,

from them.
K. C. No, indeed'? How then will you get their
lands?
P. I mean to buy their lands of them.
K. C. Buy their lands of them'? Why, man, you
have already bought them of me.
P. Yes, I know I have, and at a dear rate, too: but I
did it only to get thy good-will, not that I thought thou
hadst any right to their lands.
K. C. How x man'? ,
no right to their lands?
P. No, friend Charles, no right, no right at all what :

right hast thou to their lands?


K. C. Why v the right. of discovery'", to be sure; the
,

ECLECTIC SERIES. 227
right which the Pope and all Christian kings have
agreed to give one another.
P. The right of discovery? A strange kind of right,
indeed. Now, suppose, friend Charles, that some + canoe
load of these Indians, crossing the sea, and discovering
this island of Great Britain, were to claim it as their
own, and set it up for sale over thy head, what wouldst
thou think of it?
— — —
K. C. Why why why I must confess, I should
think it a piece of great + impudence'' in them.
P. Well, then, how canst thou, a Christian, and a
Christian prince too, do that which thou so utterly con-
demn est in these people, whom thou callest savages ? Yes,
friend Charles; and suppose, again, that these Indians,
on thy refusal to give up thy island of Great Britain,
were to make war on thee, and, having weapons more
destructive than thine, were to destroy many of thy

subjects, and drive the rest away wouldst thou not
think it + horribly cruel?
K. C. I must say, friend William, that I should; how
can I say otherwise?
P. Well, then, how can I, who call myself a Christian,
do what I should "'abhor even in the heathen ? No. I
will not do it. But I will buy the right of the proper
owners, even of the Indians themselves. By doing this,
I shall + imitate God himself, in his +justice and mercy,
and thereby insure his blessing on my colony, if I should
ever live to plant one in North America.

Exercises . What part of the United States was purchased and


settledby William Penn? Upon what was the king’s right founded?
In whom was the real right ? Why? What did Penn say to con-
vince the king that America did not belong to him? What plan did
Penn propose to adopt, to secure the good-will of the Indians? Ex-
plain the inflections marked.
In the last sentence, which are the personal pronouns of the first
person? Which of the third person? Which are the verbs? Which
of them is in the participal m«de? Which are in the future tense,
indicative mode?
;

228 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON LX VII.
|RKBB|
I. Dis-so-eu'tion; n. death; sep- > 8. Ve'hi-cles; n. carriages of
aration of the soul and body. any kind.
|

5. In-ad'e-quate; adj. partial; ) 8. Re-cep't a-cles ;


n. places in
not equal to the reality. )
which to receive any thing.
5. Rav^a-ges; n. destruction; { 9. As-si-di/i-ties ;
n. services
ruin.
jj
rendered with zeal and
7. Ex-trem'i-ties ;
n. utmost dis- kindness.
j

tress: last extremities here I 10. Con-ta'gion; n. pestilence;


means death.
j
sickness spreading from the
- 8. Pro-lon-ga'tion ;
n. the act of > touch.
lengthening. \ 12. De-cPpher-cd ;
v. explained.

HORRORS OF WAR.
Pronounce correctly. Do not say hull for whole; dis-sy-lvAion
for dis-so-lu-tion ;
at-tact for at-tac/t ;
mod-er-it for mod-er-ate ;
cli-

mits for cli-mates; rav-ij-is for rav-a-ges; heav-en pro. head n.

1. the whole race of man is doomed to dis-


Though
solution, and we are hastening to our long home; yet,
at each + successive moment, life and death seem to
divide between them the + dominion of mankind, and
life to have the larger share. It is otherwise in war;
death reigns there without a rival, and without + control.
2. War
the work, the element, or rather the sport
is

and triumph of death, who here glories not only in the


extent of his conquests, but in the richness of his spoil.
In the other methods of attack, in the other forms which
death + assumes, the feeble and the aged, who at best can
live but a short time, are usually the victims; here they
are the + vigorous and the strong.
3. It is remarked by the most ancient of poets, that
in peace, children bury their parents' in war parents ,

bury their children nor is the difference small. Children


'^
,

lament their parents sincerely, indeed, but with that


,

moderate and + tranquil sorrow, which it is natural for


those to feel who are conscious of retaining many tender
ties, many animating prospects.
!

ECLECTIC SERIES. 229


4. Parents mourn for their children with the bitter-

ness of despair; the aged parent, the widowed mother,


loses, when she is deprived of her children, every thing
but the capacity of suffering; her heart, withered and
"•'desolate, admits no other object, + cherishes no other
hope. It is Eachel, weeping for her children, and re-
fusing to be comforted, because they are not.
5. But *to coniine our attention to the number of the

slain, would give us a very inadequate idea of the rav-


ages of the sword. The lot of those w.ho perish '•'instan-
taneously may be considered, apart from religious pros-
pects, as + comparatively happy, since they are exempt
from those lingering diseases and slow torments to which
others are so liable.
6. We can not see an individul + expire, though a

stranger or an enemy, without being sensibly moved


and prompted by compassion to lend him every '•'assist-
ance in our power. Every trace of + resentment van-
ishes in a moment; every other emotion gives way to
pity and terror.
7. In the last extremities, we remember nothing but
the respect and tenderness due to our common nature.
What a scene, then, must a field of battle present, where
thousands are left without assistance, and without pity,
with their wounds exposed to the + piercing air, while
the blood, freezing as it flows, binds them to the earth,
amid the + trampling of horses, and the insults of an
+ eiiraged foe

8. If they are spared by the humanity of the enemy,

and carried from the field, it is but a prolongation of


+ torment. Conveyed in uneasy vehicles, often to a re-
mote distance, through roads almost impassable, they
are lodged in ill-prepared receptacles for the wounded
and sick, where the + variety of distress baffles all the
efforts of '•'humanity and
and renders it impossible
skill,
to give to each the attention he demands.
9. Far from their native home, no tender assiduities

of friendship, no well-known voice, no wife, or mother,


or sister, are near to soothe their sorrows, relieve their
thirst, or close their eyes in death! Unhappy man!
.
! !

230 NEW FIFTH READER.


and must you be swept into the grave + unnoticed and
+ unnumbered, and no friendly tear be shed for your
sufferings, or mingled with your dust?
10. We must remember, however, that as a very small
proportion of + military life is spent in actual *combat,
so it is a very small part of its miseries which must be
ascribed to this source. More are consumed by the rust
of "^inactivity than by the edge of the sword; confined
to a scanty or + unwholesome diet, exposed in sickly
climates, harassed with tiresome marches and + perpetual
alarms; their life is a continual scene of hardships and
danger. They grow + familiar with hunger, cold, and
watchfulness. Crowded into hospitals and prisons, con-
tagion spreads among their ranks, till the ravages of
disease exceed those of the enemy.
11. We have hitherto only + adverted to the sufferings
of those who are engaged in the profession of arms,
without taking into our account the situation of the
countries which are the scenes of hostilities. How
dreadful to hold every thing at the mercy of an enemy,
and to receive life itself as a boon dependent on the
sword
12. How boundless the fears which such a situation
must inspire, where the + issues of life and death are
determined by no known laws, principles, or customs;,
and no "^conjecture can be formed of our destiny, except
so far as it is dimly deciphered in characters of blood, in
the + diotates of revenge, and the caprices of power!
13. Conceive, but for a moment, the consternation
which the approach of an + invading army would impress
on the peaceful villages in our own neighborhood.
When you have placed yourselves in that situation,
you will learn to + sympathize with those unhappy
countries which have sustained the ravages of arms.
But how is it possible to give you an idea of these
horrors
14. Here, you behold rich harvests, the bounty of
heaven, and the reward of industry, consumed in a
moment, or trampled under foot, while famine and
+ pestilence follow the steps of + desolation. There, the
!

ECLECTIC SERIES. 231

cottages of peasants given up to the flames, mothers


expiring through fear, not for themselves, hut their in-
fants; the inhabitants flying with their helpless babes
in all directions, miserable fugitives on their native soil.
In another place, you witness '^opulent cities taken
15.
by storm the streets, where no sounds were heard but
;

those of peaceful industry, filled on a sudden with


slaughter and blood, resounding with the cries of the
pursuing and the pursued; the palaces of nobles demol-
ished, the houses of the rich pillaged, and every age, sex,
and rank, mingled in + promiscuous massacre and ruin

LESSON LXVIII.

1. Rev'el-ry; ft. noisy feasting


(
4. Squadron; ft. a body of troops.
and gayety. < 5. Ar'dennes; n. (pro. Ar'dens),
1. Chiv'al-ry; ft. knighthood; a > a forest near Waterloo.
body of knights or braYe men. \ 6. Mar'shal-ing ;
ft. arranging
1. Vo-lupt'u-ous ;
adj. exciting in order.
animal pleasure. \
6. Blent ;
v. mixed ;
united.

BATTLE OF WATERLOO*
In reading the following extract, much variety of expression is

required. The description of the ball should be read in a lively,


animated manner; that of the distant alarm in low, hurried tones, as
if intently listening and deeply anxious; the haste of preparation

and departure requires life; and the third and last two stanzas should
be read in a mournful and plaintive style.

1. There was a sound of revelry by night,


And Belgium’s + capital had gathered then

*This battle was fought on June 18th, 1815, between the French
army on one side, commanded by Napoleon Bonaparte, and the Eng-
lish army and allies on the other side, commanded by the Duke of
Wellington. At the commencement of the battle, some of the officers
were at a ball at Brussels, a short distance from Waterloo, and being
notified of the approaching contest by the cannonade, left the ball-
room for the field of battle. This was the last of Napoleon's battles.
He was here completely overthrown.
!
!! ! ; ! ; — !

232 NEW FIFTH READER.


Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright
The lamps shone o’er fair women and brave men.
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage-bell
But hush v ! harkM — a deep sound strikes like a rising
knell

2. Did ye not hear it? — JSTo


v ’twas but the wind,
;

Or the car rattling o’er the stony street;


On with the dance'' let joy be + unconfined
Ho sleep morn, when youth and pleasure meet
till

To chase the +glowing hours with flying feet


But, hark v —
that heavy sound breaks in once more v .
!

As if the clouds its echo would repeat v ,

And nearerv clearerv deadlier'' than before


, ,


Arm'' ! arm'' it is it is the cannon’s'' opening roar

3. Ah! then and there was + hurrying to and fro*',

And
gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, ''

cheeks all pale v which, but an hour ago


And ,

Blushed at the praise of their own + loveliness v ;

And there were sudden partings, such as press


The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs
Which ne’er might be repeated who could guess —
If ever more should meet those ^mutual eyes,
Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could
rise.

4. And there was ^mounting in hot haste v ;


the steed v ,

The + mustering squadron v and the ,


+ clattering car'
W ent pouring forward with 'Impetuous speed,
And swiftly forming in the ranks of war;
And the deep thunder, peal on peal afar,
And near, the beat of the alarming drum
Roused up the soldier ere the morning star;
While + thronged the + citizens with terror dumb,
Or whispering with white lipos “The foe''! They —
come'' They come'' ” !
— d

ECLECTIC SERIES. 233

5. And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves,


Dewy with nature’s tear-drops, as they pass,
+ Grrieving, if aught ^inanimate e’er grieves,

Over the 'unreturning brave! alas! —


Ere evening to be trodden like the grass,
Which, now, beneath them, hut above shall grow, ,

In its next verdure, when this fiery mass


Of living valor, rolling on' the foe,
And burning with high hope, shall + molder, cold and
low.

6.Last noon beheld them full of lusty life,


Last eve in beauty’s circle proudly gay,
The midnight brought the signal-sound of + strife,
The morn, the marshaling in arms the day, —
Battle’s magnificently stern array!
The thunder clouds close o’er it, which when rent,
The earth is covered thick with other clay,
Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and + pent,
— —
Eider and horse friend, foe in one red burial blent.

Exercises. When, where, and between what parties and com-


manders was the battle of Waterloo fought? What is described in
the first few lines? What place is meant by the capital of Belgium ?

What were the officers doing when the sound of the distant battle was
heard ?

What instances of absolute emphasis in the second stanza? What,


of relative emphasis in the fifth stanza? How should the last line of
|
the fourth stanza be read?

EXERCISE XXXI.
Thwack went the bludgeon athwart the brittle beam. The fall'n
flag was draggl'd in the brine. Blotch! and bloated the blear-eyed ,

swaggwer staggered onward. The high-bred Briton braves the battle-


field. The chill •precincts of the dreaded tomb. Shot madly from
its sphere. Life's fitful fever over, he rests well.
;

234 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON LXIX.
sr-
1. De-void'; adj. destitute. i 8. Sec'u-lar; adj. worldly.
2. Rec'ti-tude ;
n. correctness of < 9. Tam'per ;
v. to meddle with
principle. > improperly.
4. Vis'ion; n. faculty of sight. $ 11. En-tail'; v. to fix unalienafely
5. Cas'u-al ;
adj. accidental. \
upon a particular person.
6. Com'plai-sance; n. (pro. com'- 13. Pelf; n. money; riches.
^

pla-zance) obliging treatment, jj


13. Com-pen-sa'tion n. amends. ;

LOVE OF APPLAUSE.
Sound the r clearly in the following words: are, mark, bard,
hard, lard, barb, garb, hear, clear, dear, near, tear, arm, harm,
charm, lord, cord, far, care, course, never, merely, conform.

Be careful also to pronounce correctly. Do not say oth-uz for


oth-ers ;
rool for rule ;
vir-too for virt-ue ;
rec-ti-tshude for rec-ti-tude
ud-opt for a-dopt; mas-sy for iner-cy ;
com-plai'sance for com'plai-
sance; sa-cri-iis for sac-ri-fi’ce ;
sec-ky-lar nor sec-ew-lar for sec-w-lar;
mor-uls for mor-als; scru-py-lous Tor scru-pw-lous.

1. To be + insensible to public opinion, or to the esti-

mation in which we are held by others, indicates any


thing, rather than a good and generous spirit. It is, in-
deed, the mark of a low and worthless character devoid ;

of principle, and therefore devoid of shame. A young


man is not far from ruin, when he can say without
blushing, I don't care what others think of me.
2. But to have a proper regard to public opinion, is

one thing; to make that opinion our rule of action, is


quite another. The one we may cherish + consistently
with the purest virtue, and the most unbending recti-
tude; the other we can not adopt, without an utter
^abandonment of principle and disregard of duty.
3. The young man whose great aim is to please, who
•*

makes the opinion and favor of others his rule and


motive of action, stands ready to adopt any ^sentiments,
or pursue any course of conduct, however false and
'•'criminal, provided only that it be popular.
ECLECTIC SERIES. 235

4. In every + emergency, his first question is, what


will ray companions, what will the world think and say
of me, if I adopt this or that course of conduct? Duty,
the ^eternal laws of rectitude, are not thought of. Cus-
tom, fashion, tpopular favor these are the things that
:

fill his entire vision, and decide every question of opin-

ion and duty.


5. Such a man can never be trusted; for he has no
'integrity, and no independence of mind to obey the
dictates of rectitude. He is at the mercy of every casual
''impulse and change of '’popular opinion; and you can
no more tell whether be will be. right or wrong to-mor-
row, than you can predict the course of the wind, or
what shape the clouds will then assume.
6. And what is the usual consequence of this weak

and foolish regard to the opinions of men? What tho


end of thus acting in + compliance with custom in opposi-
tion to one’s own conviction of duty? It is to lose the
esteem and respect of the very men whom you thus
attempt to please. Your defect of principle and + hollow-
heartedness are easily + perceived: and though the per-
sons to whom you thus + sacrifice your conscience, may
affect to commend your complaisance, you may be + as-
sured, that, inwardly, they despise you for it.
7. Young men hardly commit a greater mistake, than

to think of gaining the esteem of others, by yielding to


their wishes contrary to their own sense of duty. Su,ch
conduct is always + morally wrong, and rarely fails to
+ deprive one, both of self-respect and the respect of
others.
8. very common for young men, just commenc-
It is
ing business, to imagine that, if they would advance
their secular interests, they must not be very scrupulous
in binding themselves down to the strict rules of recti-
tude. They must conform to custom; and if, in buying
‘and selling, they sometimes say things that are not true,
and do things that are not honest; why, their neigh-
bors do the same'; and verily, there is no getting along
without it. There is so much competition and ^rivalry,
5th Rd. 20.
236 NEW FIFTH READER.
9. to
that, be * strictly honest ,
and yet succeed in business, is
out of the question.
Now, if it would say to a young
were indeed so, I
man ;
then, quit your business.
Better dig, and beg too,
than to tamper with conscience, sin against G-od, and
lose your soul.
But is it so? Is it necessary, in order to succeed
10.
in business, that you should adopt a ^standard of morals,
more lax and pliable, than the one placed before you in
the Bible? Perhaps for a time, a rigid + adherence to
rectitude might bear hard upon you; but how would it
be in the end? Possibly, your neighbor, by being* less
‘'scrupulous than yourself, may invent a more + expedi-
tious way
of acquiring a fortune. If he is willing to
violate the dictates of conscience, to lie and cheat, and
trample on the rules of justice and honesty, he may,
indeed, get the start of you, and rise suddenly to wealth
and distinction.
11. But would you envy him
his riches, or be willing
to placeyourself in his situation? Sudden wealth,
^especially when obtained by dishonest means, rarely
fails of bringing with it sudden ruin. Those who ac-
quire it, are of course beggared in their morals, and are

often, very soon, beggared in property. Their riches


are '‘corrupted; and while they bring the curse of God
on their + immediate ’’’possessors, they usually entail
misery and ruin upon their families.
12. If it be admitted, then, that strict integrity is not
always the shortest way to success, is it not the surest,

the happiest, and the best? A young man of thorough


integrity may, it is true, find it difficult, in the midst of
dishonest '‘'competitors and rivals, to start in his business
or ‘'profession but how long, ere he will surmount every
;

difficulty, draw around him + patrons and friends, and


rise in the confidence and support of all who know him?
13. pursuing this course, you should not,
What, if, in
at the close of have so much money, by a few hun-
life,

dred dollars? Will not a fair character, an approving


conscience, and an approving God, be an abundant com-
pensation for this little '’'deficiency of pelf?
— .

ECLECTIC SERIES. 23Y

14. O, there an hour coming, when one whisper of


is

an approving mind, one smile of an approving God,


will be accounted of more value than the wealth of a
thousand worlds like this. In that hour, my young
friends, nothing will sustain you but the "^consciousness
of having been governed in life by worthy and good
principles.

Exercises .
What erroneous opinion is common concerning the
necessity of strict honesty ? Why should a young man have a proper
respect for public opinion? What will be the consequence of disre-
garding this?
In the fifth paragraph, in the following sentence, “Such a man
can never be trusted,” which word is the subject? What is the attri-
bute ?

LESSON LXX.

1. Note; n. notice.. <3. Ab-sorpt'; v. wasted; swal-


1. Knell; n. the sound of the lowed up.
j

funeral bell. (5. Fan-tas'tic; adj. fanciful; ex-


2. Verge; n. the brink; the edge. ? isting only in imagination.
3. Ab'ject; adj. worthless; mean. \ 5. An'tic; adj. odd; fanciful.
3. Au-gust'; adj. grand; majestic. < 5. Subtler; adj. (pro. sul-tler ),
3. Com'pli-cate adj. complex
; ;
? more delicate.
composed of many parts. 5. Essence v. existence sub-
; ;

3. Ex'quis-ite ;
adj. nice ;
com- stance.
plete. 6. Weal; n. prosperity.
3. E-the're-al; adj. heavenly. 6. Hus'band; v. to manage witk
3. Sul'li-cd; v. stained; soiled. economy.

MIDNIGHT MUSINGS.
Remark . —Let each pupil in the class observe and mention every
syllable that is not sounded, as each one reads.

Pronounce correctly. Do not say ann-gel for an-gel (pro. ane-


gel); heerd for heard (pro. herd); dum-ands for de-mands; com-
pli-kit for com-pli-cate ;
ex quis'-ite for ex'-quis-ite ;
ab-ser-lute for

ab-so-lute; hus-buns for hus-bancfe.

1. The bell strikes One. We take no note of time


But from its loss: to give it then a tongue
! !

238 NEW FIFTH READER.


Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke,
I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright,
It is the knell of my departed .hours.
Where are they? With the years beyond the flood:
It is the signal that demands + dispatch.

2 How much is to be done! My hopes and fears


Startup alarmed, and o’er life’s narrow verge

Look down on what? A fathomless + abyss,
A dread eternity, how surely mine!
And can eternity belong to me,
Poor 'pensioner on the bounties of an hour?

3. How poor, how how abject, how august,


rich,
How complicate, how wonderful is man
How passing wonder He who made him such
Who centered in our make such strange extremes
From different natures + marvelously mixed,
Connection exquisite of distant worlds!
Distinguished link in being’s endless chain!
Midway from nothing to the Deity!
A beam ethereal, sullied, and absorpt!
Though sullied and dishonored, still divine!
Dim miniature of greatness absolute!
h

An heir of glory! a frail child of dust!


Helpless + immoftal! insect infinite!

A worm! a god! I tremble at myself,
And in myself am lost.

4. At home a stranger,
Thought wanders up and down, surprised, + aghast,
And wondering at her own. How reason reels!
O what a miracle to man is man!
Triumphantly distressed! what joy! what dread!
+ Alternately
transported and alarmed;
What can preserve my life! or what destroy!
An angel’s arm can’t snatch me from the grave;
^Legions of angels can’t confine me there.

5. ’T is past + conjeeture; all things rise in proof.

While o’er my limbs Sleep’s soft dominion spread,


d d

ECLECTIC SERIES. 239

What though my soul fantastic measures trod


O’er fairy fields, or mourned along the gloom
Of pathless woods, or down the '‘craggy steep.
Hurled headlong, swam with pain the mantled pool,
Or scaled the cliff, or danced on hollow winds
With antic shapes, wild natives of the brain!
Her ceaseless flight, though + devious, speaks her
nature
Of subtler essence than the trodden clod;
Active, aerial, towering, unconfined,
+
Unfettered with her gross companion’s fall.

6. Even silent night + proelaims my soul immortal;


Even silent night proclaims eternal day.
For human weal Heaven husbands all events:
Dull sleep instructs, nor sport vain dreams in vain.

How wonderful is Death,


Death and his brother Sleep!
One, pale as yonder waning moon,
With lips of lurid blue;
The other, rosy as the morn
When throned on ocean’s wave,
It blushes o’er theworld:
Yet both so passing wonderful!

Exercises. —What leads us to take “note of time?” Repeat


some of the epithets applied to man. What does one class of these
epithets represent man to be? In what light does the other class con-
siderhim? In what respect is he a “worm?” How can he be called
a “god?” What is the state of the mind during sleep? What docs
this prove?

EXERCISE XXXII.
The cralcen is probably a fabulous animal. The kremlin is the
Russian emperor s palace. With his crutch he crushed the flowers.
The prank was not praiseworthy. The props were prop' by other
props. The crafty creatures crawl in crowds. The proud prig
prates.
240 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON LXXI.
1. Car-a-van /sa-ry; n. a kind of 7. De-vi-a'tion ;
n. a turning
j

inn where caravans or large aside from the right way.


companies of traders rest at l 9. Sa'ber; n. a kind of sword,
night. 12. Mit-i-ga'tion ;
n. lessening
j

5. Me-an'ders ;
n. windings or the pain.
turnings. I 14. Im-mergea v. to plunge into.
6. Cir-cum-vo-lu'tion ;
n. a wind- ( 14. Lab'y-rinth; n. a place full
ing or flowing around. (
of winding passages.

A PICTURE OF HUMAN LIFE.


Articulate all the consonants in the following and similar
words in this lesson: fresh, Hindoostan, swiftly, sprinkled, fra-
grance, primrose, tempted, thickets, greatest, prospect, overspread,
remembrance, resolved, prostrated, torrents, gratitude, occurrences,
escapes, entangle, labyrinth.

1. Obidah, the son of Abensina, left the caravansary


early in the morning, and pursued his journey through
the plains of Hindoostan. He was fresh and vigorous
with rest he was + animated with hope he was + incited
; ;

by desire; he walked swiftly forward over the valleys


and saw the hills + gradually rising before him.
2. As he passed along, his ears were delighted with

the morning song of the bird-of-paradise; he was fanned


by the last flutters of the sinking breeze, and sprinkled
with dew by groves of spices; he sometimes + contem-
plated the + towering height of the oak, monarch of
the hills; and sometimes caught the gentle '•'fragrance
of the + primrose, eldest daughter of the spring; all his
senses were gratified, and all care was banished from his
heart.
Thus he went on, till the sun approached his '•'merid-
3.

ian,and the increasing heat preyed upon his strength;


he then looked round about him for some more '•'com-
modious path. He saw, on his right hand, a grove that
seemed to wave its shades as a sign of + invitation he ;

entered it, and found the coolness and verdure + irre-


ECLECTIC SERIES. 241

sistibly pleasant. He did not, however, forget whither


he was traveling, but found a narrow way, bordered
with flowers, which appeared to have the same direc-
tion with the main road, and was pleased, that, by this
happy + experiment, he had found means to unite pleas-
ure with business, and to gain the rewards of + diligence
without + suffering its + fatigues.
4. He, therefore, still continued to walk for a time,
without the least remission of his ardor, except that he
was sometimes tempted to stop by the music of the
birds, which the heat had assembled in the shade, and
sometimes amused himself with plucking the flowers
that covered the banks on each side, or the fruits that
hung upon the branches. At last, the green path began
to + decline from its first tendency, and to wind among
the hills and thickets, cooled with fountains, and '’'mur-
muring with + water-falls.
5. Here Obidah paused for a time, and began to con-

sider, whether it was longer safe to forsake the known


and common track but, remembering that the heat
;

was now in its greatest violence, and that the plain was
dusty and uneven, he resolved to pursue the new path,
which he supposed only to make a few meanders, in
compliance with the varieties of the ground, and to end
at last in the common road.
6. Having thus calmed his + solicitude, he renewed his

pace, though he suspected he was not gaining ground.


This uneasiness of his mind inclined him to lay hold on
every new object, and give way to every + sensation that
might soothe or divert him. He listened to every + eeho,
he mounted every hill for a fresh prospect, he turned *

aside to every + cascade, and pleased himself with tracing


the course of a gentle river, that rolled among the trees,
and watered a large region, with + innumerable circum-
volutions.
7. In these amusements, the hours passed away un-

counted; his deviations had + perplexed his memory, and


he knew not toward what point, to travel. He stood
+ pensive and confused, afraid to
go forward lest he
should go wrong, yet conscious that the time of + loiter-
242 NEW FIFTH READER.
ing was now While he was thus tortured with
past.
uncertainty, the sky was overspread with clouds, the
day vanished from before him, and a sudden tempest
gathered round his head.
8. He was now roused, by his danger, to a quick and

painful remembrance of his folly; he now saw how hap-


pinessis lost when ease is. consulted; he lamented the

unmanly 'Impatience that '•’prompted him to seek shel-


ter in the grove, and despised the petty curiosity that
led him on from While he was thus re-
trifle to trifle.
flecting, the air grew blacker, and a clap of thunder
broke his meditation.
9. He now
resolved to do what remained yet in his
power; to tread back the ground which he had passed,
and try to find some '’’issue, where the wood might open
into the plain. He '’’prostrated himself upon the ground,
and commended his life to the Lord of nature. He rose
with + confidence and ’’’tranquillity, and pressed on with
his saber in his hand; for the beasts of the desert were
in motion, and on every hand were heard the mingled
howls of rage, and fear, and + ravage, and expiration :

all the horrors of darkness and solitude surrounded


him; the winds roared in the woods, and the Horrents
tumbled from the hills.
10. Thus, forlorn and distressed, he wandered through
the wild, without knowing whither he was going, or
whether he was every moment drawing nearer to safety
or to ’’’destruction. At length, not fear, but labor, began
to overcome him; his breath grew short, and his knees
trembled, and he was on the point of lying down, in
’’’resignation to his fate, when lie beheld, through the
brambles, the glimmer of a taper. He advanced toward
the light, and finding that it proceeded from the '•’cottage
of a hermit, he called humbly at the door, and obtained
admission. The old man set before him such precisions
as he had collected for himself, on which Obidah fed
with + eagerness and '•’gratitude.
11. When the repast was over, “Tell me,” said the
hermit, “by what chance thou hast been brought hither :

I have been now twenty years an '•’inhabitant of this


ECLECTIC SERIES. 243

which I never saw a man before.” Obidah


wilderness, in
then related the + occurrences of his journey, without
any concealment or palliation.
12. “Son/’ said the hermit, “let the errors and follies,
the dangers and escapes, of this day, sink deep into
your heart. Remember, my son, that human life is the
journey of a day. We rise in the morning of youth,
full of vigor, and full of + expectation we set forward

with spirit and hope, with + gayety and with diligence,


and travel on awhile in the straight road of piety,
toward the mansions of rest. In a short time we remit
our fervor, and endeavor to find some mitigation of our
duty, and some more easy means of obtaining the same
end.
13. “We then relax our vigor, and resolve no longer
to be terrified with crimes at a distance, but rely upon
our own constancy, and venture to approach what we
resolve never to touch. We thus enter the bowers of
ease, and repose in the shades of security. Here the
heart softens, and + vigilance + subsides we are then
:

willing to inquire whether another advance can not be


made, and whether we may not, at least, turn our eyes
upon the gardens of pleasure. We approach them with
'.scruple and hesitation we enter them, but enter '’'tim-
;

orous and trembling, and always hope to pass through


them without losing the road of virtue, which we, for
awhile, keep in our sight, and to which we propose to
return.
14. “But temptation succeeds temptation, and one
+ compliance prepares us for another; we, in time, lose
the happiness of innocence, and solace our disquiet with
sensual gratifications. By degrees we let fall the + re-
rnembrance of our + original intention, and quit the only
adequate object of rational desire. We entangle our-
selves in business, immerge ourselves in luxury, and
!
rove through the labyrinths of + inconstancy, till the
darkness of old age begins to invade us, and disease and
anxiety obstruct our way. We then look back upon oitr
lives with horror, with sorrow, and with repentance:
5th R. 21.
244 NEW eteth reader.
and wish, but too often vainly wish, that we had not
forsaken the paths of virtue.
15. ‘‘Happy are ffiey, my son, who shall learn, from
thy example, not to despair, but shall remember, that,
though the day is past, and their strength is wasted,
there yet remains one effort to be made; that '^reforma-
tion is never hopeless, nor sincere + endeavors ever un-
assisted; that the wanderer may at length return, after
all his errors and that he, who ^implores strength
;

and courage from above, shall find danger and difficulty


give way before him. G-o now, my son, to thy repose:
commit thyself to the care of "’’Omnipotence and, when ;

the morning calls again to toil, begin anew thy journey


and thy life.”

LESSON LXXII.
1. Shaft; n. the body of a column. $
6 . Fan-tas'tic; adj. whimsical.
1. ArciPi-trave n. (pro. ark'e- ; <
8 . Wells; v. issues forth as wa-
trave) that part which rests s ter from the earth,
immediately upon the col- <:
9 . An-ni'hi-lat-ed v. reduced
;

umn> <j to nothing.


1. Vault; n. an arched roof. 9. Cor'o-nal n. a crown; a
j ;

2. Swayed; a. moved; waved back wreath.


^

and forth. 9 . Glare; n. a dazzling light.


^

3. Sanct'u-a-ries ;
n. places set $ 10. Em-a-na'tion ;
n. that which
apart for the worship of i proceeds from any source.
God. <
13. Arch; adj. chief; principal.
5. Shrine; n. a box for sacred l 16. ElOs-ments; n. in popular lan-
relics : here a place for wor-
,
<;
guage fire, air, earth, and
shiping God. '1
water.

GOD’S FIRST TEMPLES.


Pronounce correctly. Ere pro. a-er. Do not say ruff for roof;

an-thuw.s for an-thems; of-fuci for of-fer’d; ann-cient for an-cient:

ud-ore for a-dore; un-ly for on-ly.

1. The groves were God’s first temples. Ere man


learned
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave,
ECLECTIC SERIES. 245

And spread the roof above them; ere he framed


The lofty vault, to gather and roll back
The sound of ‘'anthems in the darkling wood,
;

Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down


And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks
And + supplication.
^

2. For his simple heart


Might not resist the sacred + influences,
That, from the stilly twilight of the place,
And from the gray old trunks, that high in heaven
Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound
Of the '•'invisible breath, that swayed at once
All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed
His spirit with the thought of boundless Power
And + inaccessible Majesty.

3. r
Ah, why
Should we, in the world’s riper years, neglect
G-od’s ancient sanctuaries, and adore
Only among the crowd, and under roofs
That + our frail hands have raised Let me, at least,
!

Here, in the shadow of *this aged wood,


Offer one hymn; thrice happy, if it find
+ Acceptance in His ear.

4. ^Father, thy hand


Hath reared these venerable + columns. Thou
Didst weave this + verdant roof. Thou didst look
'
down
Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose
They, in thy sun
All these fair ranks, of trees.
Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze,
And shot toward heaven.
5. The century-living crow,
Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died
Among their branches; they stood,
till, at last,
As now they stand, + massy, and tall, and dark,
Fit shrine for humble worshiper to hold
+ Communion with his Maker.
246 NEW FIFTH READER.
6 . Here are seen
Ho traces of man’s pomp, or pride; no silks
Hustle, no jewels shine, nor envious eyes
+ Encounter; no fantastic carvings show
The boast of our vain race to change the form
Of thy fair works.
7. But thou art here; thou fill's!
The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds,
That run along the + summits of these trees
In music; thou art in the cooler breath,
That, from the inmost darkness of the place,
Comes, scarcely felt; the barky trucks, the ground,
The fresh, moist ground, are all instinct with thee.
Here is continual worship nature, here,;

In the 'Tranquillity that thou dost love,


Enjoys thy presence.

8. Noiselessly around,
From perch to perch, the solitary bird
Passes; and yon clear spring, that, ’mid its herbs,
Wells softly forth, and -visits the strong roots
Of half the mighty forest, tells no tale
Of all the good it does.

9. Thou hast not left


Thyself without a witness, in these shades,
Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace,
Are here to speak of thee. This mighty oak,
By whose + immovable stem I stand, and seem
Almost annihilated, not a prince,
In all the proud old world beyond the deep,
E’er wore his crown as + loftily as he
Wears the green coronal of leaves, with which
Thy hand has graced him. Nestled at his root
Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare
Of the broad sun.
10. That delicate forest flower,
With scented breath, and look so like a smile.
Seems, as it issues from the shajteless mold
An emanation of the indwelling Life,
ECLECTIC SERIES. 247
A token of the upholding Love,
visible
That are the soul of this wide t universe.

11. My heart is awed within me, when I think


Of the great + miracle that still goes on,
In silence, round me; the perpetual work
Of thy creation, finished, yet renewed
Forever. Written on thy works, I read
The lesson of thy own + eternity.

12. Lo! grow old and die: but see, again,


all

How on the faltering footsteps of decay


Youth presses, ever gay and beautiful youth,
In all its beautiful forms. These lofty trees
Wave not less proudly, that their h
ancestors
Molder beneath them. O, there is not lost
One of earth’s charms: upon her bosom yet,
After the flight of untold centuries,
The freshness of her far beginning lies,
And yet shall lie.

13. Life mocks the idle hate


Of enemy, Death; yea, seats himself
his arch
Upon the + sepulcher, and blooms and smiles;
And of the triumphs of his +ghastly foe
Makes his own ‘'nourishment. For he came forth
From thine own bosom, and shall have no end.

14. There have been holy men, who hid themselves


Deep in the woody wilderness, and gave
Their lives to thought and prayer, till they outlived
The + generation born with them, nor seemed
Less aged than the hoary trees and rocks
Around them; and there have been holy men,
Who. deemed it were not well to pass life thus.
But let me often to these + solitudes
Retire, and in thy presence, + re-assure
My feeble virtue. Here, its enemies,
The passions, at thy plainer footsteps, shrink,
And tremble, and are still.
— ;

248 new fifth reader.


15. O, God! when thou
Dost scare the world with tempests, set on fire
The heavens with falling + thunder-bolts, or fill
With all the waters of the ^firmament,
The swift, dark whirlwind, that uproots the woods
And drowns the villages; when, at thy call,
Uprises the great deep, and throws himself
Upon the ^continent, and '’’overwhelms
Its cities; who forgets not, at the sight
Of these + tremendous tokefis of thy power,
His pride, and lays his strifes and follies by?

16. O, from these sterner '’’aspects of thy face


Spare me and mine; nor let us need the wrath
Of the mad, unchained elements, to teach
Who rules them. Be it ours to + meditate,
In these calm shades, thy milder majesty,
And to the beautiful order of thy works,
Learn to '’’conform the order of our lives.

Like the baseless fabric of a vision,


The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this unsubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind.

Exercises .
What are the most ancient temples of worship?
What meditations become the forest scenes? How are the forests a
witness for God? What is the poetic measure of this piece?

Parse “stole,” in the second paragraph. “Shrine,” in the fifth

paragraph. “Encounter,” in the sixth paragraph. “Oak,” in the


ninth paragraph.

EXERCISE XXXIII.
Fragrance and aromatic odors every-where. Frolic and gleesome-
ness characterized the scene. We arranged the change. Chance
and change await all. Thou troubl’st thy father s friends. The
sculptor has executed three busts. The swift, dark whirlwind that
uproots the woods.
ECLECTIC SERIES. 249

LESSON LXXIII.

2. PER-soN'i-Fi-eD; v. represented $ 9. Pu'ri-tan ;


n. a name given

with attributes of a person. < to those who separated from


2. Ai/LE-GO-niz-eD v. turned into <
the Church of England, in
;

an allegory, or a figurative >


the days of Queen Elizabeth.

description. \
They were so called, because
they professed to follow the
2. En-shrin^d ;
v. preserved as s

sacred. I
pure word of God.

6. Spon-ta'ne-ous-ly adv, of its l


10. Pen'ta-teuch; n. (pro .Pen'ta-
;

own accord. tuke) the first five books of


^

7. Prim'i-tive adj. first orig- the Old Testament.


; ;

inal. 10. Im-bu'c-d ;


v. tinged ;
died.
9. The-o-cr at'ic-al ;
adj. conduct- < ( Used figuratively.)

ed by the immediate agency j


13. Ar'ro-gat-ing v. claiming
;

of God. more respect than is just.

CHARACTER OF THE PURITAN FATHERS OF NEW ENGLAND.


Articulate clearly' the h and the d\ high, heart, happiness,
heaven, hard, had, hearken, here, have, happy, whit, howling,
hearth, whenever, hypocrites, seem’d, talk’d, mind, call’d, prefer’d,
England, land, launch’d, soil’d, round, intend.

1. One of the most ^prominent features which distin-


guished our forefathers, was their determined + resist-
ance to Oppression. They seemed born and brought
up, for the high and special purpose of showing to the
world that the civil and religious rights of man, the
rights of + self-government, of conscience, and independ-
ent thought, are not merely things to be talked of, and
woven into theories, but to be adopted with the- whole
strength and ardor of the mind, and felt in the pro-
foundest recesses of the heart, and carried out into the
general life, and made the foundation of practical use-
fulness, and visible beauty, and true nobility.
Liberty with them, was an object of too serious
2.

desire and stern resolve, to be personified, allegorized,


and enshrined. They made no goddess of it, as the
;

250 NEW FIFTH READER.


ancients did they had no time nor inclination for such
;

trifling ; felt that liberty was the simple birthright


they
of every human creature; they called it so they claimed ;

it as such they ’’’reverenced and held it fast as the


;

+ unalienable gift of the Creator, which was not to be


+ surrendered to power, nor sold for wages.

3. It was theirs, as men without it, they did not


;

esteem themselves men; more than any other ’’’privilege


or possession, it was + essential to their happiness, for it

was and therefore


essential to their ^original nature;
they preferred it above wealth, and ease, and country;
and that they might enjoy and exercise it fully, they
forsook houses, and lands, and kindred, their homes,
their native soil, and their fathers’ graves.
4. They left all these ;, they left England, which, what-
ever it might have been called, was not to them a land
of freedom; they launched forth on the pathless ocean,
the wide, ''’fathomless ocean, soiled not by the earth be-
neath, and bounded, all round and above, only by heaven
and it seemed to them like that better and ’’’sublimer
freedom, which their country knewyiot, but of which
they had the conception and image in their hearts; and,
after a ’’’toilsome and painful voyage, they came to a
hard and wintry coast, unfruitful and ’’’desolate, but
unguarded and boundless; its calm silence interrupted
not the ascent of their prayers; it had no eyes to watch,
no ears to hearken, no tongues to report of them; here,
again, there was an answer to their soul’s desire, and
they were satisfied, and gave thanks; they saw that
they were free, and the desert smiled.
5. I am telling an old tale; but it is one which must

be told when we speak of those men. It is to be added, '

that they transmitted their principles to their children,


and that peopled by such a race, our country was always
free. So long as its '•’inhabitants were '’’unmolested by
the mother country, in the exercise of their important
rights, they submitted to the form of English govern-
ment; but when those rights were ’’’invaded, they spurned
even the form away.
6. This act was the Eevolution, which came of course.
ECLECTIC SERIES. 251

and spontaneously, and had nothing in it of the won-


derful or unforeseen. The wonder would have been, if
it had not occurred. It was, indeed, a happy and glori-
ous event, hut by no means unnatural; and I intend no
slight to the reverend actors in the Revolution, when I
assert that their fathers before them were as free as
they — every whit as free.
7. The were not the sud-
principles of the Revolution
denly acquired property of a few bosoms: they were
abroad in the land in the ages before; they had always
been taught, like the truths of the Bible; they had de-
scended from father to son, down from those primitive
days, when the + pilgrim established in his simple dwell-*'
ing, and seated at his blazing fire, piled high from the
forest which shaded his dodr, repeated to his listening
children the story of his wrongs and his resistance, and
bade them rejoice, though the wild winds and the wild
beasts were howling without, that they had nothing to
fear from great men’s + oppression.
8. Here are the beginnings of the Bevolution. Ev-
ery settler’s hearth was a school of independence; the
scholars were apt, and the lessons sunk deeply and thus
;

it came that our country was always free; it could not

be other than free.


9. As deeply seated* as was the principle of liberty
10.
and resistance to arbitrary power, in the breasts of the
Puritans, it was not more so than their piety and sense of
religious obligation. They were emphatically a people
whose G-od was the Lord. Their form of government
was as strictly theocratical, if direct communication be
excepted, aswas that of the Jews insomuch that it
;

would be where there was any civil au-


difficult to say,
thority among them entirely distinct from + ecelesiastical
'’'jurisdiction.
Whenever a few of them settled a town, they im-
mediately gathered themselves into a church and their
;

elders were + magistrates, and their code of laws was the


Pentateuch. These were forms, it is true, but forms
which faithfully + indicated principles and feelings; for
no people could have adopted such forms, who were not

252 NEW FIFTH READER.


thoroughly imbued with the spirit, and bent on the
practice, of religion.
11. God was King; and they regarded him as
their
truly and literally he had dwelt in a visible pal-
so, as if
ace in the midst of their state. They were his devoted,
+ resolute, humble subjects; they undertook nothing

which they did not beg of him to prosper; they + accom-


plished nothing without rendering to him the praise;
they suffered nothing without carrying their sorrows
to his throne they ate nothing which they did not + im-
;

plore him to bless.


12.Their piety was not merely external; it was sin-
cere; it had the proof of a good tree in bearing good

fruit it produced and sustained a strict morality.


;

Their f tenacious purity of manners and speech obtained


for them, in the mother country, their name of Puritans,
which, though given in derision, was as honorable an
appellation as was ever bestowed by man on man.
13. That there were hypocrites among them, is not
to be doubted; but they were rare; the men who vol-
untarily exiled themselves to an unknown coast, and
endured there every toil and hardship for conscience’
sake, and that they might serve God in their own man-
ner, were not likely to set conscience at ^defiance, and
make the service of God a mockery; they were not
likely to be, neither were they, + hypocrites. I do not
know that it would be arrogating too much for them
to say, that, on the extended surface of the globe, there
was not a single community of men to be compared
with them, in the respects of deep religious ^impressions
and an exact ^performance of moral duty.

Exercises .
How did Puritans regard liberty ? What was
their conduct in support of liberty? Why was the Revolution a
perfectly natural event, or just what might have been expected?
From whence were derived the principles of the Revolution? How
were government formed? What was the character
their systems of
of their piety? As a community, how will they bear comparison, for
moral worth, with all other communities past or present ?
Which are the pronouns in the twelfth paragraph?
— ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 253

LESSON LXXIV.

1. Theme; n. a subject on which 3. Mon^rch-ist ;


n. one who is

a person writes or speaks. in favor of a kingly govern-


2. Gib'bet-ed; v. hanged and ex- ment.
posed on a gibbet. 4. Par'ri-cide ;
n. the destruc-
2. Sev'er-^d ;
v. disunited ;
sepa- tion of one’s parent or coun-
rated. try.

3. A-ris'to-crat ;
n. one who is 5. In-dis'so-lu-ble; adj. that can
in favor of a government not be broken or separated.
placed in the hands of a few 5. Dem'a-gogue; n. a leader of
men. the lower class of people.
3. Con-fed'er-a-cy ;
n. a union 7. Tac / tics;
n. the science of
of states or persons. managing military forces.

DUTY OF AN AMERICAN ORATOR.


Remark. Avoid the habit of commencing a sentence in a high
key and ending it in a feeble tone of voice.

Pronounce correctly. Do not say sac-rid-niss for sa-cred-nesa


im-port-unce for im-port-ance; or-it-ur for or-a-tor; il-lus-trous for

il-lus-tr i-ous ;
hos-tile for hos-tile (pro. hos-til ) ;
Eu-ro'-pc-an for

Eu-ro-pe'-an.

1. One theme of duty still remains, and I have placed


it alone, because of its peculiar dignity, sacredness, and
importance. Need I tell you that I speak of the union
of these States? Let the American orator discharge all
other duties hut this, if indeed it he not impossible,
with the energy and eloquence of John Butledge, and-

the disinterested ^fidelity of Bobert Morris, yet shall


he he counted a traitor, if he attempt to dissolve the
Union.
2. His name, "^illustrious as it. may have been, shall

then he gibbeted^on every hill-top throughout the land,


a monument of his crime and punishment, and of the
shame and grief of his country. If indeed he believe,
(and doubtless there may be such) that wisdom demands
254 NEW FIFTH READER.
the dissolution of the Union, that, the South should he
severed from the North, the West he independent of the
East, let him cherish the sentiment, for his own sake, in
the solitude of his breast, or breathe it only in the con-
fidence of friendship.
3. Let him rest assured, that as his country toler-

ates the monarchist and aristocrat of the old world,


she tolerates him; but should he plot the dismember-
ment of the Union, the same trial, judgment, and exe-
cution await him as would await them, should they
attempt to establish the aristocracy of Venice or the
monarchy of Austria, on the ruins of our confederacy.
To him as to them, she leaves freedom of speech, and
the very licentiousness of the press; and permits them
to write,, even in the spirit of scorn, and hatred, and
unfairness.
4. She trembles not at such efforts, + reckless and hos-
tile as they may be. She smiles at their impotence,
while she mourns over their infatuation. But let them
lift’ the hand of parricide, in the insolence of pride or

the madness of power, to strike their country, and her


countenance, in all the severity and terrors of a parent’s
wrath, shall smite them with + amazement and horror.
Let them strike, and the voices of millions of freemen
from the city and + hamlet, from the college and the
farm-house, from the cabins amid the western wilds,
and on ships scattered around the world, shall utter the -
stern irrevocable judgment, self-banishment for life, or
ignominious death.
5. Be it then the noblest office of American eloquence,

to cultivate, in the people of every State, a deep and


fervent attachment to the Union. The Union is to us
the marriage-bond of States; indissoluble in life, to be
dissolved, we trust, only on that day when nations shall
die in a moment, never to rise again. Let the Ameri-
can orator discountenance, then, all the arts of intrigue
and corruption, which not only pollute the people and
dishonor republican institutions, but prepare the way
for the ruin of both; how secretly, how surely, let his-
tory declare. Let him banish from his thoughts, and
ECLECTIC SERIES. 255

his lips, the + hypocrisy of the demagogue equally -i


'de-

ceitful and degraded,

“With smooth dissimulation, skilled to grace


A devil’s purpose, with an angel’s face.”

6. Let that demagogue and those arts, his instruments


of poAver, he regarded as pretended friends, hut secret
and dangerous enemies of the people. Let it never be
forgotten that to him and them we owe all the licen-
tiousness and violence, all the unprincipled and unfeel-
ing persecution of party spirit. Let the American orator
labor, then, with all the solemnity of a religious duty,
with all the intensity of filial love, to convince his coun-
trymen that the danger to liberty in this country is to
be traced to those sources. Let the European tremble
for his institutions, in the presence of military power
and of the warrior’s ambition.
+ arch-enemy
7. Let the American dread, as the of
republican institutions], the shock of exasperated par-
ties, and 'the implacable revenge of demagogues. The
discipline of standing armies, is the .terror of free-
dom in Europe but the tactics of parties, the standing
;

armies of America, are still more formidable to liberty


'
with us.
8. Let the American orator frown, then, on that am-
bition, which, pursuing its own ^aggrandizement and
gratification, perils the harmony and integrity of the
Union, and counts the grief, anxiety, and + expostula-
tions of millions, as the small dust of the balance. Let
him remember, that ambition, like the Amruta cup of
Indian fable, gives to the virtuous an immortality of
glory and happiness, .but to the corrupt an immortality
of ruin, shame, and misery.
9. Let not the American orator, in the great ques-

tions on which he is to speak or write, appeal to the


mean and + groveling qualities of human nature. Let
hinj love the people, and respect himself too much to
dishonor them, and tdegrade himself, by an appeal to
selfishness and prejudice, to jealousy, fear, and con-
tempt. The greater the interests, and the more sacred
256 NEW FIFTH READER.
the. rights which may he at stake, the more resolutely
should he appeal to the generous feelings, the noble
sentiments, the calm ‘'considerate wisdom, which become
a free, educated, peaceful, Christian people. Even if he
battle against criminal ambition and base intrigue, let
his weapons be a logic, manly, ‘•'intrepid, honorable and ;

an eloquence, ‘‘magnanimous, + disinterested, and spotless.


10. Nor is this all. Let the American orator + com-
prehend, and live up to the grand + conception, that the
Union is the property of the world, no less than of
ourselves that it is a part of the divine scheme for the
;

moral government of the earth, as the + solar system is


a part of the ‘‘'mechanism of the heavens; that it is des-
tined, while traveling from the Atlantic to the Pacific,
like the ascending sun, to shed its glorious influence
backward on the states of Europe, and forward an the
empires of Asia.
11. Let him comprehend its sublime relations to time
and eternity; to God and man; to the most precious
hopes, the most solemn obligations, and the highest hap-
piness of human kind. And what an eloquence must
that be whose source of power and wisdom are God
himself, the objects of whose '‘'influence are all the
nations of the earth; whose sphere of duty is ‘‘'co-exten-
sive with all that is sublime in religion, beautiful in
morals, commanding in intellect, and touching in ‘‘'hu-
manity. How ‘'comprehensive, and therefore how wise
and + benevolent, must then be the genius of American
eloquence, compared to the narrow-minded, narrow-
hearted, and therefore selfish, ‘‘eloquence of Greece and
Home.
12. How striking is the ‘‘'contrast, between the uni-
versal, social spirit of the former, and the individual,
exclusive character of the latter. The + boundary of
this is the horizon of a plain; the circle of that, the

a mountain ‘‘'summit. Be it then the duty


‘‘'horizon of
of American eloquence to speak, to write, to act, in. the
cause of Christianity, ‘‘'patriotism, and ‘•'literature in ;

the cause of justice, humanity, virtue, and truth; in the


cause of the people, of the Union, of the whole human

ECLECTIC SERIES. 257

race,and of the unborn of every clime and age. Then


shall American eloquence, the personification of truth,
beauty, and love,
a walk the earth, that she may hear' her name
Still hymned and honored by the grateful voice

Of human kind, and in her fame rejoice.”


Exercises . —What is the duty of the American orator, as dis-
cussed in this lesson? What is the noblest office of American elo-

quence? 1

LESSON LXXY.
Come'li-ness n. that which is be-
;
< FledgeAing ;
n. a young bird.
coming or graceful. [walk. \
Rec-og-ni'tion ;
n. acknowledg-
Port; n. manner of movement or s ment of acquaintance.
At-tire'; n. dress; clothes. < Pre-con-cert'ed ;
v. planned be-
Rife; adj. prevalent. > forehand.
Tarnish; v. to soil; to sully. < Caitiff; n. a mean villain.
Av-a-lanche'; 71. a vast body of ? Thrall'dom; n. bondage; slavery,
snow sliding down from a l Scan; v. to examine closely,
mountain. j
Netb/er adj. lower; lying be-
;

Vouch-safe'; v. to yield; to con- > neath.


descend; to give. \ Blanch; v. to turn white.
Net'ted; v. caught in a net. \
Gust; n. taste; relish.

WILLIAM TELL.
The events here referred to occurred in 1307. Switzerland had
been conquered by Austria; and Gesler, one of the basest and most
tyrannical of men, was her governor. As a refinement of tyranny,
he had his cap elevated on a pole, and commanded that every one
should bow before it. William Tell proudly refused to submit to this
degrading mark of slavery. He was arrested and carried before the
governor. The day before, his son Albert, without the knowledge of
his father, had fallen into the hands of Gesler.

Give each letter its full and correct sound. Do not say gov nor
for gov-ern-or; come-li-niss for come-li-ness ;
e-rec for e-rec t\ hon-
rer-ble for hon-or-a-ble; hans for hand’s; venge-unce for venge-ance.

Scene 1 .
A Chamber in the Castle. Enter Gesler ,
Officers,
and Sarnem, with Tell in chains and guarded.
Sar. Down, slave! Behold the governor.
Down! down! and beg for mercy.
; :

258 NEW FIFTH READER.


Ges. ( Seated .)
Does he hear?
Ear. He does, hut braves thy power.
Officer. Why don’t you smite him for that look?
Ges. Can I believe
My eyes? He smiles! Hay, grasps
His chains as he would make a weapon of them
To lay the smiter dead. {To Tell.)
Why speakest thou not?
Tell. For wonder.
Ges. Wonder?
Tell. Yes, that thou shouldst seem a man.
Ges. What should I seem?
Tell. A monster.
Ges. Ha! Beware! Think on thy chains.
Tell. Though they were doubled, and did weigh me
down
FProstrate to the earth, methinks I could rise up
Erect, with nothing but the honest pride
Of telling thee, '‘usurper, to thy teeth,
Thou art a monster! Think upon my chains?
How came they on me?
Ges. Darest thou question me?
Tell. Darest thou not answer?
Ges. Do I hear?
Tell. Thou dost.
Ges. Beware my + vengeance.
Tell. Can it more than kill?
Ges. Enough; it can do that.
Tell. Ho; not enough:
It can not take away the grace of life;

Its comeliness of look that virtue gives;


Its port tercet with + consciousness of truth
Its rich attire ofhonorable deeds;
Its fair report that’s rife on good men’s tongues

It can not lay its hands on these, no more


Than it can pluck the brightness from the sun,
Or with + polluted finger tarnish it.
Ges. But it can make thee + writhe.
Tell. It may.
.

ECLECTIC SERIES. 259

G-es. And groan.


Tell. It may; and I may cry
Go on, though it should make me groan again.
Ges. Whence comest thou?
Tell. From the mountains. Wouldst thou learn
What news from them?
Ges Canst tell me any?
Ay: they watch no more the avalanche.
Tell.
Ges. Why so?
Tell. Because they look for thee. The + hurricane
Comes ‘‘unawares upon them; from its bed
The torrent breaks, and finds them in its track.
Ges. What do they then?
Tell. Thank heaven, it is not thou!
Thou hast + perverted nature in them.
There ’s not a blessing heaven vouchsafes them, but
The thought —
of thee doth + wither to a curse.
Ges. That ’s right I ’d have them like their hills,
!

That never smile, though ‘‘wanton summer tempt


Them e’er so much.
Tell. But they do sometimes smile.
Ges. Ay! when is that?
Tell.. When they do talk of vengeance.
Ges. Yengeance? Dare they talk of that?
Tell. Ay, and expect it too.
Ges. From whence?
Tell. From heaven!
Ges. From heaven?
Tell. And their true hands
Are lifted up to it on every h'il
For justice on thee.
Ges. Where ’s thy abode?
Tell. I told thee, on the mountains
Ges. Art married?
Tell. Yes.
Ges. And hast a family?
Tell. A son.
5th Rd. 22.
(

260 NEW FIFTH READER.


Ges. A son? Sarnem!
Sar. My lord, the boy— Gesler signs to Sarnem to keep
silence ,
and whispering sends him off.)
, ,

Tell. The hoy? What boy?


Is ’t mine? and have they netted my young fledge-
ling ?

Mow heaven support me, if they have! He’ll own


me,
And share his father’s ruin! But a look
Would put him on his guard; yet how to give it!

Mow heart, thy nerve; forget thou art flesh, he rock.


They come, they come!
That step —that step —that little step, so light,
Upon the ground, how heavy does it fall
Upon my heart! I feel my child! (Enter Sarnem
with Albert whose eyes are riveted on TelVs bow
,

which Sarnem carries.)


’T is he! We can but perish.
Sar. See!
Alb. What?
Sar. Look there!
Alb. I do, what would you have me see?
Sar. Thy father.
Alb. Who? That —that my father?
Tell. My boy! my boy! my own brave boy!
He ’s safe !
(Aside.)

Sar. (Aside to Gesler.) They ’re like each other.


Ges. Yet I see no sign
Or recognition to betray the link
Unites a father and his child.
Sar. My lord,
I am sure it is his father. Look at them.
It may be
A preconcerted thing ’gainst such a chance,
That they + survey each other coldly thus.

Ges. We shall try. Lead forth the caitiff.

Sar. To a dungeon?
Ges. Mo; into the court.
Sar. The court, my lord?
! ! !

ECLECTIC SERIES. 261

Ges. And send


To tell the headsman to make ready. Quick
The slave shall die! You marked the boy?
Sar. I did. He started; ’tis his father.
Ges. W e shall see. Away with him
Tell. Stop! Stop!
Ges. What would you?
Tell. Time! A little time to call my thoughts together.
Ges. Thou shalt not have a minute.
Tell. Some one, then, to speak with.
Ges. Hence with him!
Tell. A moment Stop !

Let me speak to the boy.


Ges. Is he thy son?
Tell. And if
He were, art thou so lost to nature, as
To send me forth to die before his face?
Ges. Well! speak with him.
How, Sarnem, mark them well.
Tell. Thou dost not know me, boy; and well for thee
Thou dost not. I ’m the father of a son
About thy age. Thou,
I see, wast born like him, upon the hills;
If thou shouldst ’scape thy present thralldom, he
May chance to cross thee if he should, I pray thee
;

.Relate tohim what has been passing here,


And say I laid my hand upon thy head,
And said to thee, if he were here, as thou art,
Thus would I bless him. Mayst thou live, my boy!
To see thy country free, or die for her,
As I do (.Albert weeps.)
!

Sar. Mark! he weeps.


Tell. Were he my son,
He would not shed a tear! He would remember
The cliff where he was bred, and learned to scan
A thousand fathoms’ depth of nether air;
Where he was + trained to hear the thunder talk,
And meet the lightning, eye to eye; where last
— ! !

262 NEW FIFTH READER.


We spoke together, when I told him death
fBestowed the brightest gem that graces life,
^Embraced for virtue's sake. He shed a tear?
How were he by, I ’d talk to him, and his cheek
Should never blanch, nor moisture dim his eye —
I ’d talk to him
Sar. He falters!

Tell. ’T is too much !

And yet it must be done ! I ’d talk to him—


Ges. Of what ?
Tell. The mother, tyrant, thou dost make
A widow of! I ’d talk to him of her.
I ’d bid him tell her, next to liberty,
Her name was the last word my lips pronounced.
And I would charge him never to forget
To love and '‘'cherish her, as he would have
His father’s dying blessing rest upon him
Sar. You see, as he doth + prompt, the other acts.
Tell. So well he bears it, he doth + vanquish me.
My boy! my boy! O for the hills, the hills,
To see him bound along their tops again,
With liberty.

Sar. Was there not all the father in that look?


Ges. Yet ’t is ’gainst nature.

Sar. Hot if he believes


To own the son would be to make him share
The father’s death.
Ges. I did not think of that ! ’T is well
The boy is not thy son. I ’ve + destined him
To die along with thee.
Tell. To die? For what?
Ges. For having braved my power, as thou hast. Lead
them forth.
Tell. He ’s but a child.
Ges. Away with them
Tell. Perhaps an only child.
Ges. Ho matter.
;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 263


Tell. He may have a mother.
Ges. So the viper hath;
And yet, who spares it for the mother’s sake?

Tell. I talk to stone! though


I talk to it as
’T were flesh ;
and know ’t is none. I ’ll talk to it

No more. Come, my boy,


I taught thee how to live, I ’ll show thee how to die.

Ges. He is thy child?


Tell. He is my child.

Ges. I ’ve wrung a tear from him! Thy name?


Tell. My name?
It matters not to keep it from thee now;
My name is Tell.

Ges. Tell? William Tell?


Tell. The same.
Ges. What! he, so famed ’hove all his countrymen,
For guiding o’er the stormy lake the boat?
And such a master of his bow, ’t is said
His arrows never miss! Indeed! I ’ll take
+ Exquisite vengeance Mark I ’ll spare thy
! ! life

Thy boy’s too; both of you are free; on one


Condition.
Tell. Name it.

Ges. I would see you make


A trial of your skill with that same bow
You shoot so well with.
Tell. Name the trial you
Would have me make.
Ges. You look upon your boy
As though instinctively you guessed it.
Tell. Look upon my boy? What mean you? Look upon
My boy as though I guessed it ? Guessed the trial
You’d have me make? Guessed it
Instinctively? You do not mean no no, — —
You would not have me make a trial of
My skill upon my child! Impossible!
I do not guess your meaning.
! :

264 JSTEW FIFTH READER.


Ges. I would see
Thee hit an apple at the distance of
A hundred paces.
Tell. Is my boy to hold it ?

Ges. Mo.
Tell. No? I ’ll send the arrow through the + eore!

Ges. It is to rest upon his head.

Tell. Great heaven, you hear him


Ges. Thou dost hear the choice I give
Such trial of the skill thou art master of,

Or death to both of you; not otherwise


To be escaped.
Tell. O, monster!
Ges. Wilt thou do it?
Alb. He will! he will!

Tell.. + Ferocious monster ! Make


A father murder his own child !

Ges. Take off his chains if he consent.


Tell. With his own hand?
Ges. Does' he consent ?

Alb. He does. (
Gesler signs to his officers ,
who proceed to
take off TelVs chains; Tell unconscious what they
Tell. With his own hand? [do.
Murder his child with his own hand ? This hand ?
The hand I’ve led him, when an infant, by?
’Tis beyond horror! ’T is most horrible!
Amazement ( His chains fall off.)
!
What ’s that
z
you ’ve done to me ?
Villains! put onmy chains again. My hands
Are free from blood, and have no gust for it,
That they should drink my child’s! Here! here!
I ’ll not
Murder my boy for Gesler.

Alb. Father! Father!


You will not hit me. father!

Tell. Hit thee? Send


The arrow through thy brain? Or, missing that,
! W ! ; ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 265

Shoot out an eye? Or, if thine eye escape,


+ Mangle the cheek I ’ve seen thy mother’s lips
Cover with kisses? Hit thee? Hit a hair
Of thee, and + cleave thy mother’s heart?
Ges. Host thou consent?
Tell. Give me my how and quiver.
Ges. For what?
Tell. To shoot my hoy!
Alb. Ho, father, no!
To save me You ’ll he sure to hit the apple.
!

Will you not save me, father?


Tell. Lead me forth;
I make the trial
’ll

Alb. Thank you!


Tell. Thank me? Do
You know for what? I will not make the trial.
To take him to his mother in my arms!
AncLlay him down a + corse before her!
Ges. Then he dies this moment, and you certainly
Do murder him whose life you have a chance
To save, and will not use it.

Tell. Well, I’ll do it; I’ll make the trial.


Alb. Father
Tell. Speak not to me:
Let me not hear thy voice thou must he dumb :

And so should all things he. Earth should be dumb


And heaven — unless its thunders muttered at
The deed, and sent a holt to stop it Give me !

My bow and quiver!


Ges. When all ’s ready.
Tell. Well, lead on!

Exercises. — hy does Gesler express joy that his subjects axe


unhappy? Why does Albert appear not to recognize his father?
Why does Tell at last acknowledge Albert ?

Parse the first two words in this lesson. Parse “to shoot” on the
last page. “To save” on the same. “To take” and “lay,”
! :

266 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON LXXVI.
Is'sue; n. event; consequence. I Shaft; n. the stem; the body.
Stanch; adj. sound; strong. S Quiver; n. a case for arrows.
Jag'ged; v. notched; uneven. \
Per / il; n. danger.

WILLIAM TELL.— Continued.


Remark. — Do not slide over the little words, nor omit any syl-
lable of a word.

Sound each letter distinctly and correctly. Do not say looli-uz

for look-era; smi-l'n-ly for smiA'ny-ly ;


rev-runce for rev-er-ence
stid-y for stead-y.

Scene 2. —
Enter slowly people in evident distress Officers
,
— ,

Sarnem, G ester. Tell Albert and soldiers one bearing


, ,

Tell s bow and quiver —
another with a basket of apples.

Ges. That is your ground. Now shall they measure


thence
A hundred paces. Take the distance.
Tell. Is the line a true one?
Ges. True or not, what is ’t to thee?
Tell. What is ’t to me? A little thing,
A very little thing; a yard or two
Is nothing here or there were it a wolf —
I shot at Never mind.
!

Ges. Be thankful, slave,


Our grace + accords thee life on any terms.
Tell. I will be thankful, G-esler! Wiliam, stoj)!
You measure to the sun,
Ges. And what of that?
What matter whether to or from the sun?
Tell. I ’d have it at my
The sun should shine
back.
Upon the mark, and not on him that shoots.
I can not see to shoot against the sun:
I will not shoot against the sun

Ges. Give him his way! Thou hast cause to bless my


mercy.
!

ECLECTIC SERIES. 267


Tell. I shall remember it. I ’d like to see
The apple I ’m to shoot at.
Ges. Stay show me the basket there
! !

Tell. You ’ve picked the smallest one.


Ges. I know I have.
Tell. O, do you? But you see
The color of it is dark I : ’d have it light,

To see it better.
Ges. Take it as it is;
Thy skill will be the greater if thou hitt’st it.

Tell. True! true! I did not think of that; I wonder


I did not think of that. Give me some chance
To save my boy! ( Throws away the apple with all
I will not murder him, [Ais force.)
If I can help it for the honor of
;

The form thou wearest, if all the heart is gone.


Ges. Well: choose thyself.
Tell. Have I a friend among the lookers-on?
Verner. ( Rushing forward.) Here, Tell.
Tell. I thank thee, Yerner!
He is a friend runs out into a storm
To shake a hand with us. I must be f brief.

When once the bow is bent, we can not take


The shot too soon. Yerner, whatever be
The issue of this hour, the common cause
Must not stand still. Let not to-morrow’s sun
Set on the + tyrant’s banner! Yerner! Yerner!
The boy! the boy! Thinkest thou he hath the
+ courage

To stand it?
Ver. Yes.
Tell. Hoes he tremble?
Ver. Ho.
Tell. Art sure?
Ver. I am.
Tell. How looks he?
Ver Clear and smilingly.
.

If you doubt it, look yourself.


5th Rd. 23.
— —— —
268 NEW FIFTH READER.
Tell. Wo, no, my friend:
To hear it is enough.
Ver. He bears himself so much above his years
Tell I know! I know!
Ver. With + constancy so modest
Tell. I was sure he would
Ver. And looks with such relying love
And + reverence upon you
Tell. Man! Man! Man!
Wo more! Already I ’m too much the father
To act the man! Yerner, no more, my friend!
I would be — —
flint flint flint. Do n’t make me feel
I ’m not — do not mind me ! Take the boy
And set him, Yerner, with his back to me.
Set him upon and place this ap.ple
his knees,
Upon stem may front me,
his head, so that the
Thus, Yerner; charge him to keep steady; tell him
I 'll hit the apple! Yerner, do all this
More + briefly than I tell it thee.
Ver. Come, Albert (
Leading him out.)
!

Alb. May I not speak with him before I go?


Ver. Wo.
Alb. I would only kiss his hand.
Ver. You must not.
Alb. I must ;
I can not go from him without.
Ver. It is his will you should.
Alb. His will, is it?
I am content, then; come.
Tell. My boy! (
Holding out his arms to him.)
Alb. My father! (Rushing into TelVs arms.)
Tell. If thou can’st bear it, should not I? Go now,
My son; and keep in mind that I can shoot;
Go boy; be thou but steady, I will hit
The apple. Go! God bless thee; go. My bow!
(The bow is handed to him.)
Thou wilt not fail thy master, wilt thou? Thou
Hast never failed him yet, old servant. Wo,
;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 269

I ’m sure of thee. I know thy honesty,



Thou art stanch, stanch. Let me see my quiver.
Ges. Give him a single arrow.
Tell. Do you shoot?
Soldier. I do.

Tell. Is it so you pick an arrow, friend?


The point, you see, is bent the feather, jagged.
;

That ’s all the use ’t is fit for.


( Breaks it.)

Ges. Let him have another.


Tell. Why, ’t is better than the first,

But yet not good enough for such an aim


As I ’m to take. ’T is heavy in the shaft
I’ll not shoot with it! (
Throws it away.) Let me
see my quiver.
Bring it! ’Tis not one arrow in a dozen
I ’d take to shoot with at a dove, much less
A dove like that.
Ges. It matters not.
Show him the quiver.
Tell. See if the boy is ready.
('Tell here hides an arrow under his vest.)
Ver. He is.

Tell, I ’m ready too Keep silent, for


!

Heaven’s sake, and do not stir; and let me have


Your prayers, your prayers, and be my + witnesses
That if his life ’s in peril from my hand,
’T is only for the chance of saving it.
Ges. Go on. ( To the people.)
Tell. I will.
O friends, for mercy’s sake keep + motionless,

and silent. (
Tell shoots. A
shout of exultation
bursts from the crowd. TelVs head drops on his
bosom; he with difficulty supports himself on his
bow.)
Ver. (. Rushing in with Albert.) The boy is safe, no hair
of him is touched.
Alb. Father, I ’m safe. Your Albert ’s safe, dear father;
Speak to me! Speak to me!
— d

270 NEW FIFTH READER.


Ver. He can not, boy!
Alb. You grant him life?
Ges. I do.
Alb. And we are free?
Ges. You are. ( Crossing angrily behind .)
Alb. Open his vest,
And give him air.
(
Albert opens his father's vest ,

and the arrow drops. Tell starts, fixes his eyes


on Albert and clasps him to his breast.')

Tell. My boy! My boy!


Ges. For what
Hid you that arrow in your breast? Speak, slave!
Tell. To kill thee, tyrant, had I slain my boy!*
Exercise .
-Relate tliis whole story.

-Notwithstanding Gesler’s promise, Tell was again loaded with


chains and confined in prison. Succeeding, however, in making his
escape, he soon afterward shot Gesler through the heart, and thus
freed his country from the most galling bondage. His memory is, to

this day, cherished in Switzerland, as that of one of the most heroic


defenders of liberty.

EXERCISE XXXIV.
They slack' n'd the cable. Thy pulse throbs ivildly. Thou prob' st
thewound painfully. He struggl'd to escape. Thou think' st and
thwack' st, and thwack' st and think' st./

The shrill trump of victory. We scrambled up the hill. Scrib-


blers scrawl strange stories. Diamonds scratch glass. They furl'd
the sails. His chains clank'd. He handles the instruments skill-

fully. The blue waves curl'd. We were unharm' amid the con-

flict of elements.
L

ECLECTIC SERIES. 271

LESSON LXXVII.

1. Topics; n. subjects of dis- > to the time of the Druids..


course. These were the ancient
j

1. Ger'mi-nat-ed ;
v. sprouted; ] priests of Great Britain.
began to grow. \ 10. Co-los'sal; adj. very large.
1. Tran-scend'ent; adj. surpass- >11. Em-bod'i-ment; n. a union in
ing all; yery excellent. I one body.
4. Dru-id'ic-al ;
adj. belonging < 12. Fer'vid adj. burning.
;

EUROPE AND AMERICA—WASHINGTON.


[Extract from an address delivered by Daniel Webster at the
celebration of the completion of the Bunker Hill Monument, June
17, 1843.]

Remark. — et the pupil stand at a distance from the teacher,


and then try to read so loud and distinctly that the teacher may
hear each syllable.

Utter each sound correctly and distinctly. Do not say in-vi-t'n


for in-vit-m^ ;
phil-soph'cl for pliil-o-soplu'c-al ;
in-Jiu-unce for in-
fluence; re-spec for re-spec?; de-scend-unce for de-scend-an/s ;
cul-ter

nor cul-tshure for culture, (pro. cult-yur ); mince for minis; pop-py-
lar for pop-u-lar; kine for kino?; his-t’ry for liis-to-ry.

1. Few topics more fit for + philo-


are more inviting, or
sophical discussion, than the action and influence of
the New World upon the Old; or the contributions of
America to Europe.
2. Her obligations to Europe for science and art, laws,

literature, and manners, America acknowledges as she


ought, with respect and gratitude. And the people of
the United States, descendants of the English stock,
grateful for the treasures of knowledge derived from
their English ancestors, '‘'acknowledge, also, with thanks
and filial regard, that, among those ancestors, under the
+ culture of Hampden and Sidney, and other assiduous

friends, that seed of popular liberty first germinated,


which, on our soil, has shot up to its full Height, until
its branches '’’overshadow all the land.
3. But America has not failed to make returns. If
272 NEW FIFTH READER.
she has not + canceled the + obligation, or equaled it by
others of like weight, she has, at least, made + respectable
advance, and some approaches toward equality. And
she admits, that, standing in the midst of civilized na-
tions, and in a civilized age, a nation among nations,
there is a high part which she is expected to act, for'
the general advance of human interests and human wel-
fare.
4. American mines have filled the mints of Europe
with the precious metals. The productions of the Ameri-
can soil and climate, have poured out their abundance
of 'luxuries for the tables of the rich, and of necessa-
ries for the sustenance of the poor. Birds and animals
of beauty and value, have been added to the European
stocks ;
and transplantations from the transcendent
and unequaled riches of our forests, have mingled them-
selves profusely with the elms, and ashes, and Druidical
oaks of England.
5. America has made '^contributions far more vast.
Who can estimate the amount or the value of the ^aug-
mentation of the commerce of the world, that has
resulted from America? Who can imagine to himself
what would be the shock to the Eastern Continent, if
the Atlantic were no longer + traversable, or there were
no longer American + productions or American markets?
6. But America exercises influences, or holds out

examples for the consideration of the Old World, of a


much higher, because they are of a moral and political
character. America has furnished to Europe, proof of
the fact, that popular "^institutions, founded on equality
and the principle of representation, are capable of
+ maintaining governments able to secure the rights
;

of persons, property, and + reputation.


7. America has proved that it is practicable to elevate

the mass of mankind; that portion which, in Europe,


is called the laboring or lower class; to raise them to

self-respect, to make them + competent to act a part in


the great right and great duty of self-government; and
this, she has proved, may be done by the "‘'diffusion of
knowledge. She holds out an example a thousand times
! —
ECLECTIC SERIES. 273
more enchanting, than ever was presented before, to
those nine-tenths of the human race, who are born
without- + hereditary fortune or hereditary rank.
8. America has furnished to the world the character

of Washington. And if our American institutions had


done nothing else, that alone would have entitled them
to the respect of mankind. Washington! “First in
war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his country-
men!” Washington is all our own!
9. The enthusiastic veneration and regard in which

the people of the United States hold him, prove them


to be worthy of such a countryman; while his reputa-
tion abroad reflects the highest honor on his country
and its institutions. I would cheerfully put the ques-
tion to any of the intelligence of Europe and the world,
what character of the ’’"century, upon the whole, stands
out on the relief of history, most pure, most respect-
able, most sublime; and I doubt not that, by a ’’’suffrage
approaching to ’’'unanimity, the answer would be
W ashington
10. This structure* by its uprightness, its solidity, its

no unfit emblem of his character. His


‘'durability, is
public virtue and public principles were as firm as the
earth on which it stands; his personal motives as pure
as the serene heaven in which its summit is lost. But,
indeed, though a fit, it is an ’’’inadequate emblem. Tow-
ering high above the column which our hands have
builded, beheld not by the inhabitants of a single city,
or a single State, ascends the colossal ’’’grandeur of his
character and his life. In all the + constituents of the
one, in all the acts of the other, in all its titles to im-
mortal love, admiration, and renown, it is an American
production.
11. It is the embodiment and vindication of our trans-
Atlantic liberty. Born upon our soil, of parents also
born upon it never, for a moment, having had a sight
;

of the old world instructed, according to the modes of


;

his time, only in the spare, but wholesome elementary

* Bunker Hill Monument.


— ” ;

274 NEW FIFTH READER.


knowledge which our ^institutions provide for the chil-
dren of the people; growing up beneath, and penetrated
by, the genuine influence of American society; growing-
up amid our expanding, but not '^luxurious + civilization
partaking in our great destiny of labor, our long con-
testwith unreclaimed nature and uncivilized man, our
agony of glory, the War of Independence, our great
victory of peace, the formation of the Union, and the
establishment of the Constitution; he is all, all our own!
That crowded and glorious life,

“AVhere multitudes of virtues passed along,


Each pressing foremost in the mighty throng,
Contending to be seen, then making room
For greater multitudes that were to come; —
that life was the life of an American citizen.
12. I claim him for America. In all the perils, in
every darkened moment of the state, in the midst of
the reproaches of enemies, and the misgivings of friends,
I turn to that transcendent name for courage and for
consolation. To him who denies or doubts, whether our
fervid liberty can be combined with law, with order,
with the security of property, with the pursuits and
advancement of happiness; to him who denies that our
institutions are capable of producing exaltation of soul
and the passion of true glory; to him who denies that
we have contributed an y to the stock of great lessons
and great examples; to all these I reply, by pointing to
Washington.
Exercises. Where is Bunker Hill? What important event
occurred there? When?
For what is America indebted to Europe?
For what is Europe indebted to America? How does the Bunker
Hill Monument represent Washington? What is said of Washington
ns an American, character?

EXERCISE XXXV.
Sweet-scented shrubs. Spruce was sprinkl’d sparsely. The roots

lie shrunk and shrivl'd till spring. Thou sneer st and scoff'st in-
excusably. He was formidable, unbearable, intolerable, unman-
ageable, and terrib/e.
! ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 275

LESSON LXXVIII.
2. Ser/ri-sd ;
adj. crowded to- 3. Im-preg'na-ble ;
adj. that can
gether. not be moved or shaken.
2. Pha'lanx; n. a body of troops 3, Hor'rent; adj. standing out
formed in close array. like bristles.
2. En-ciiant'ed ;
adj. possessed 4. In-sur'gent; adj. rising in op-

by witches or imaginary position to authority.


spirits. 4. Fray; n. quarrel; battle.
2. Ram'part; n. that which de- 6. An-ni'iii-late; v. to reduce to
fends from assault. nothing.

MAKE WAY FOR LIBERTY.


Articulate the d and t clearly. Do not say thou-sans for thou-
sands; duss for dusf; frieris for friends; con-flic for con-flic/;
groun for ground; foun for found; muss for must
At the battle of Lempach, a. d. 1315, between the Swiss and Aus-
having obtained possession of a narrow pass in the
trians, the latter
mountains, formed a serried phalanx with presented spears. Until
this was broken, the Swiss could not hope to make a successful
attack. At last, Arnold Winkelried, leaving the Swiss ranks, rushed
upon the Austrian spears, and receiving in his body as many points
as possible, made a breach in the line, which resulted in the complete
rout of the Austrian army.

1. “Make way for +Liberty!” ho cried;


Mado Avay for Liberty, and died!

2. In arms the Austrian phalanx stood,


A living wall, a human wood
A wall, where every + conscious stone

Seemed to its kindred thousands grown


A rampart all + assaults to hear,
Tilltime to dust their frames should wear;
A wood like that enchanted grove,
In which, with fiends, Einaldo strove,
Where every silent tree possessed
A spirit prisoned in its breast,
Which the first stroke of coming strife
Would + startle into ^hideous life;
: ;; ;

276 NEW FIFTH READER.


So dense, so still, the Austrians stood,
A living wall, a human wood!
3. Impregnable their front appears,
All horrent with + projected spears,
Whose polished points before them shine,
From flank to flank, one brilliant line,
Bright as the breakers’ splendors run
Along the billows to the sun.

4. Opposed to these, a + hovering band,


Contending for their native land;
Peasants, whose new-found strength had broke
From manly necks the + ignoble yoke,
And + forged their fetters into swords,
On equal terms to fight their lords;
And what insurgent rage had gained,
In many a mortal fray maintained:
Marshaled x>nce more at freedom’s call,
They came to conquer or to fall,
Where be who conquered, he who fell,
Was deemed a dead or living Tell!
5. And now the work of life and death
Hung on the passing of a breath
The fire of conflict burned within
The battle trembled to begin
Yet, while the Austrians held their ground,
Point for attack was nowhere found;
Where’er the impatient Switzer’s gazed,
The unbroken line of lances blazed;
That line ’t were + suicide to meet,
And perish at their tyrants’ feet
How could they rest within their graves,
And leave their homes the homes of slaves?
Would they not feel their children tread
With clanking chains above their head?

6. It must not be: this day, this hour,


Annihilates the oppressor’s power;
All Switzerland is in the field,
She will not fly, she can not yield;
;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 277


Few were the numbers she could boast
But every freeman was a host,
And felt as though himself were he
On whose sole arm hung victory.
7. It did depend on one indeed: ,

Behold him! Arnold Winkelried!


There sounds not to the trump of fame
The echo of a nobler name.
Unmarked he stood amid the throng,
In + rumination deep and long,
Till you might see with sudden grace,
The very thought come o’er his face;
And by the motion of his form,
Anticipate the bursting storm;
And by the uplifting of his brow,
Tell where the bolt would strike, and how.
But ’twas no sooner thought than done;
The field was in a moment won.
8. “Make way for Liberty!” he cried:
Then ran, with arms extended wide,
As if his dearest friend to clasp;
Ten spears he swept within his grasp:
“Make way for Liberty!” he cried,
Their keen points met from side to side;
He bowed among them like a tree,
10. And thus made way for Liberty.
9. Swift to the breach his comrades fly;
“Make way for Liberty!” they cry,
And through the Austrian phalanx dart,
As rushed the spears through Arnold’s heart;
While + instantaneous as his fall,
Bout, ruin, panic, scattered all.
An earthquake could not overthrow
A city with a surer blow.
Thus Switzerland again was free,
Thus Death made way for Liberty!
Exercises . —When, and between whom did the battle of Lem-
pach take place ? How was the battle won ?
G

278 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON LXXIX

1. Beak; n. the bill of a bird. i 3. Fledged; v. furnished with


1. Writhing; v. twisting. feathers.

3. Wing'lets; n. little wings. 5. Cleav / ing ;


adj. splitting.

THE AMERICAN EAGLE.


Remark. — ive the poetic pauses their appropriate prominence.
In most of the following lines, the cesura is very decidedly marked.

thun-d'ruz for thun -der-ers; loing-lits for wing-lets.

1. There’s a fierce gray bird, with a bending beak,


With an angry eye and a startling shriek,
That nurses her brood where the cliff flowers blow,
On the + precipice top, in + perpetual snow;
That sits where the air is shrill and bleak,
On the splintered point of a shivered peak,
Bald-headed and stripped, like a + vulture, torn
In wind and strife; her feathers worn,
And ruffled, and stained, while loose and bright,
Bound her serpent neck, that is writhing and bare,
Is a '''crimson collar of gleaming hair,
Like the crest of a warrior, thinned in fight,
And shorn, and bristling.

2. See her! where


She sits, glow of the sun-bright air,
in the
With wing half-poised and talons bleeding,
kindling eye, as if her + prey
And
Had
suddenly been snatched away,
While she was tearing it and feeding.

3. Above the dark ’’'torrent, above the bright stream,


The voice may be heard
Of the thunderer’s bird,
Calling out to her God in a clear, wild scream,
As she mounts to his throne, and unfolds in his beam;
— !

ECLECTIC SERIES. 279

While her young are laid out in his rich, red blaze,
And their winglets are fledged in his hottest rays.

4. Proud bird of the cliff! where the barren yew


springs,
Where the sunshine stays, and the wind harp sings,
She sits, + unapproachable, pluming her wings;
She screams! She’s away! over hill-top and flood,
Over valley and rock, over mountain and wood,
That bird is abroad in the van of her brood
5. ’T is the bird of our + banner, the free bird that
braves,
When the battle is there, all the wrath of the waves:
That dips her + pinions in the sun’s first gush;
Drinks his ^meridian blaze, his farewell flush;
Sits amid stirring stars, and bends her beak,
Like the slipped + falcon, when her + piercing shriek
Tells that she stoops upon her cleaving wing,
To drink at some new victim’s clear, red spring.
6. That monarch bird! she slumbers in the night,
Upon the lofty air peak’s utmost height;
Or sleeps upon the wing, amid the ray
Of steady, cloudless, ^everlasting day:
Rides with the thunderer in his +
blazing march,
And bears his lightnings o’er yon boundless arch;
Soars ^wheeling through the storm, and screams away,
Where the young pinions of the morning play;
Broods with her arrows in the ^hurricane;
Bears her green Uaurel o’er the starry plain,
And sails around the skies, and o’er the rolling deeps,
With still + unwearied wing, and eye that never sleeps.
Exercises. What is the emblem of our country? Describe
the habits of the eagle. What traits in the character of this bird
are worthy of admiration?

EXERCISE XXXVI.
They battl'd manfully. The ship being scuttl'd ,
settl'd in deep
water. A drizzling rain fell. The bear has crispy ,
frizzl'd hair.
They were puzzl'd and dazzl'd by the glitter.
280 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON LXXX.

1. Sanc/ti-ty ;
n. holiness; pu- $ 3. Soph'ist; n. a deceptive rea-
lity. < soner.
2. En-thu'si-ast ;
n. one whose ? 4. Pre'cept; n. a rule of action.
imagination is heated. ? 4. Eu-lo-giz^d; v. praised; com-
2. Sec'ta-ry; n. one who sepa- £
mended.
rates from an established j>
5. Fa-n at'i-cism ;
n. wild notions
church. £
of religion.
2. Max'ims; n. established prin- 6 . Ex'e-crIt-ed v. cursed; de-
;
j
ciples. > nounced.
3. Pre-pos-ses'sion; n. an opin- l 6. Ex-cri/ci-a-ting; adj. extreme-
ion formed before examin- > ly painful,
ing a subject. s 7. Fab'ri-cate; v. to invent; to
3. Ig'no-min-y; n. public disgrace, t devise falsely.

THE SCRIPTURES AND THE SAVIOR.


The following is an extract from the writings of Rousseau, a French
author of distinction, but a noted and avowed Infidel.

Utter distinctly all the consonants in the following and similar


words in this lesson: majesty, scriptures, sanctity, gospel, subject,
philosopher, distance, enthusiast, instructions, described, disgrace,
exactly, rewards, sobriety, midst, friends, fabricate.

1. The majesty of the Scriptures strikes me with

astonishment, and the sanctity of the gospel addresses


itself to my heart. Look at the volumes of the philos- '•

ophers, with all their pomp how + contemptible do they :

appear in + comparison with this Is it possible, that a !

book at once so simple and sublime, can be the work of


man?
2. Can he whothe subject of its history, be him-
is

self a mere man? Was


his the tone of an enthusiast,
or of an + ambitious sectary? What sweetness! What
+ purity in his manners What an affecting '•'graceful-
!

ness in his instructions What sublimity in his max- !

ims! What + profound wisdom in his + discourses! What


presence of mind, what + sagacity and + propriety in his
!

ECLECTIC SERIES. 281

answers! How great the command over his passions!


Where is the man, where the philosopher, who could
so live, suffer, and die, without weakness and without
+ ostentation?

3. When Plato described his ^imaginary good man

covered with all the disgrace of crime, yet worthy of


all the rewards of virtue, he described exactly the char-

acter of Jesus Christ. The resemblance was so striking,


it could not be mistaken, and all the fathers of the church

perceived it. What prepossession, what blindness must


it be, to compare the son of Sophronius to the son of

Mary What an + immeasurable distance between them


!

Socrates, dying without pain, and without ignominy,


easily supported his character to the last; and if his
death, however easy, had not crowned his life, it might
have been doubted whether Socrates, with all his wisdom,
was any thing more than a mere sophist.
4. He invented, it is said, the theory of moral f science.

Others, however, had before him put it in practice and ;

he had nothing to do but to tell what they had done,


and to reduce their examples to precept. Aristides had
been just, before Socrates defined what justice was. Le-
onidas had died for his country, before Socrates made
it a duty to love one’s country. Sparta had been tem-
perate, before Socrates eulogized + sobriety; and before
he + celebrated the praises of virtue, Greece abounded in
virtuous men.
5. But from whom of all his countrymen, could Jesus

have derived that sublime and pure morality, of which


he only has given us both the precepts and example?
In the midst of the most + licentious fanaticism, the voice
of the sublimest wisdom was heard; and the simplicity
of the most + heroic virtue crowned one of the humblest
of all the +multitude.
6. The death of Socrates, peacefully philosophizing

with his friends, is the most pleasant that could be de-


sired! That of Jesus, expiring in torments, ^outraged,
+reviled, and execrated by a whole nation, is the most

horrible that could be feared. Socrates, in receiving


the cup of poison, blessed the weeping executioner who
282 NEW FIFTH READER.
presented it: but Jesus, in the midst of excruciating
torture, for his + merciless + tormentors.
prayed
7. Yes! the life and death of Socrates were those
if
of a sage, the life and death of Jesus were those of a
.

God. Shall we say that the evangelical history is a mere


+ fiction? It does not bear the stamp of fiction, but
the contrary. The history of Socrates, which nobody
doubts, is not as well + attested as that of Jesus Christ.
Such an assertion in fact only shifts the difficulty, with-
out removing it. It is more inconceivable that a num-
ber of persons should have agreed to fabricate this
book, than that one only should have furnished the
subject of it.
8. The Jewish authors were
+ incapable of the diction,

and strangers to the + morality, contained in the gospel,


the marks of whose truths are so striking, so perfectly
^inimitable, that the + inventor would be a more aston-
ishing man than the hero.

Exercises . —How does Plato’s


character of what a good man
ought to be, correspond withwhat Christ was ? What differences can
you mention between the life and death of Christ, and those of Soc-
rates? lu what country did Aristides, Leonidas, Plato, and Socrates
live? Is the history of Socrates any better attested than that of

Christ? Why is it inconceivable that the book is a fiction? Sup-


pose an invention of man; which would be the most wonderful,
it

the inventor or the hero? Who was the author of this extract?
How could an infidel express such sentiments? Are not men often
forced unwillingly to acknowledge the truth?

EXERCISE XXXVII.
They struggl'd through all difficulties. The rules are unnecessa-
rily strict. He strode proudly on. They stroll’d through thickets
and briars ,
and brambles and thorns
, ,
till they reached the road.
The clock strikes twelve.
— ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 283

LESSON LXXXI.

2. Pre-ter-nat'u-ral ;
adj. be- $ 4. SyjCbol; n. a sign or repre-
yond or different from what < sentation of something,
is natural. > 4. E-nun-ci-a'tion; n. the act of
2. SriRiv^L-eD ;
adj. shrunk into \ uttering.
wrinkles., ? 4. IFni-son; n. agreement; har-
3. Prog-nos'tic ;
adj. showing ^
mony.
something to come. I 5. Dis-tor'tion; n. a twisting out
3. Passion; n. suffering; the last > of shape,
suffering of our Savior. s 5. Buf'fet; n. a blow with the
3. Pa'thos ;
n. that which excites ( fist.

feeling. > 7. Fal-la'cious; adj. deceiving.


4. Mys'tic; adj. sacredly obscure; < 7. Ab-rupt'ness; n. suddenness.
/
involving some secret mean- £
9. Por-tent ous ;
adj. foretelling

ing. ] of evil.

THE BLIND PREACHER.


Remark. The pathos of the description in the following lesson
is its great beauty, and requires an appropriate tone and manner.

Pronounce correctly. Do not say jine for join ;


covud for cov-
er’d; sa-cra-ment for sac-ra-ment; pic-tshure nor jmc-ter for pict-ure,
pro, pict-vur; fig-ure, pro. fig-yur grand-eur, pro. grand-yur ; por-
ien-shus for por-terU-ows ; at-ti-tudes, pro. at-tit-yudes.

1. As I traveled through the county of Orange, my

eye was caught by a cluster of horses tied near a +ruin-


ous, old, wooden house in the forest, not far from the
roadside. Having frequently seen such objects before,
in traveling through these States, I had no + difficulty
in + understanding that this was a place of religious
worship.
2. Devotion alone should have stopped me to join in

the duties of the + congregation but I must confess, that ;

curiosity to hear the preacher of such a wilderness, was


not the least of my motives. On entering, I was struck •

with his preternatural appearance. He was a tall and


very spare old man; his head, which was covered with
5tk R. 24.
284 NEW FIFTH READER
a white linen cap, his shriveled hands, and his voice,
were all shaking under the influence of a + palsy; and
a few moments + ascertained to me that he was perfectly
blind.
3. The first emotions that touched my breast were

those of mingled pity and veneration. But how soon


were all my feelings changed? The lips of Plato were
never more worthy of a prognostic swarm of bees, than
were the lips of this holy man! It was a day of the
+ administration
of the + sacrament and his subject was,
;

of course, the passion of our Savior. I had heard the


subject handled a thousand times; I had thought it
exhausted long ago. Little did I suppose, that, in the
wild woods of America, I was to meet with a man, whose
eloquence would give to this topic a new and more sub-
lime pathos, than I had ever before witnessed.
4. As he descended from the pulpit, to
+ distribute

the mystic symbols, there was a + peculiar, a more than


human ''solemnity in his air and manners, which made
my blood run cold, and my whole frame shiver. He
then drew a picture of the sufferings of our Savior; his
trial before Pilate; his ascent up Calvary; his '''cruci-
fixion. I knew the whole history; but never until then,
had I heard the circumstances so + selected, so arranged,
so colored. It was all new; and I seemed to have heard
it for the first time in my life. His enunciation was so
+ deliberate, that his voice trembled on every syllable;

and every heart in the assembly trembled in unison.


5. His peculiar phrases had that force of + description,

that the original scene appeared to be at that moment


acting before our eyes. We saw the very faces of the
Jews; the staring, frightful distortion of. malice and
rage. We saw the buffet my soul kindled with a flame
;

of '‘'indignation and my hands were ’‘'involuntarily and


;

+ convulsively clinched.

6. But when he came on the patience, the


to touch
forgiving meekness of our Savior; when he drew, to
the life, his voice breathing to God a soft and gentle
prayer of pardon on his enemies, “Father, forgive them,
for they know not what they do,” the voice of the
ECLECTIC SERIES. 285
preacher, which had all along faltered, grew fainter,
until, his + utterance being entirely obstructed by the
force of his feelings, he raised his handkerchief to his
eyes, and burst into a loud and + irrepressible flood of
grief. The effect was + inconceivable. The whole house
resounded with the mingled groans, and sobs, and
shrieks of the congregation.
J. I t was some time before the tumult had subsided,
so far as to permit him to proceed. Indeed, judging by
the usual, but fallacious standard of my own weakness,
I began to be very uneasy for the situation of the
preacher. For I could not conceive how he would be
able to let his audience down from the height to which
he had wound them, without '''impairing the + solemnity
and + dignity of the subject, or perhaps shocking them
by the abruptness of his fall. But, no the descent was
:

as beautiful and sublime, as the elevation had been rapid


and + enthusiastic.
8. The first sentence, with which he broke the awful
silence was a quotation from Bousseau: ‘‘Socrates died
like a philosopher, but Jesus Christ, like a Gcd!” I
despair of giving you any idea of the effect produced
by this short sentence, unless you could + perfectiy con-
ceive the whole manner of the man, as Well as the
peculiar crisis in the discourse. Never before did I com-
pletely understand what Demosthenes meant by laying
such stress on + delivery.
9. You are to bring before you the venerable figure

of the preacher; his blindness, constantly recalling to


your recollection old Homer, Ossian, and Milton, and
associating with his performance the melancholy grand- '

eur of their geniuses; you are to imagine that you hear


his slow, solemn, well-accented enunciation, and his
voice of affecting, trembling melody; you are to remem-
ber the pitch of passion and enthusiasm, to which the
congregation were raised; and then, the few moments of
portentous, deatli-like silence, which reigned through-
out the house; the preacher, removing his white hand-
kerchief from his aged face (even yet wet from the
recent torrent of his tears,) and slowly stretching forth
286 NEW FIFTH READER.
the palsied hand which held it, begins the sentence,

“Socrates died like a philosopher” then, pausing, rais-
ing his other hand, pressing them both clasped together
with warmth and energy to his breast, lifting his “sight-
less balls” to heaven, and pouring his whole soul into
his + tremulous voice —
“but Jesus Christ like a God!” —
10. This man has been before my imagination almost
ever since. A thousand times, as I rode along, I dropped
the reins of my bridle, stretched forth my hand, and
tried to imitate his + quotation from Rousseau; a thou-
sand times I abandoned the attempt in despair, and felt
persuaded, that his peculiar manner and power arose
from an ^energy of soul, which nature could give, but
which no human being could justly copy. As I recall,
at this moment, several of his awfully striking '•'atti-
tudes, the chilling tide with which my blood begins to
pour along my + arteries, reminds me of the emotions
produced by the first sight of Gray’s ’Introductory pic-
ture of his Bard.

Exercises . — Can
you describe the personal appearance of the
blind preacher? What
effect was produced by his manner? When
he described the character and conduct of Christ, what was the effect
on the congregation? What effect was produced by the circum-
stance of his blindness? What was the secret of the preacher’s great
power ?

LESSON LXXXII.

THE GODS OF THE HEATHEN.


Pronounce correctly. Do not say mus-sy for mer-cy; mine-ful
for minrf-ful; Is-rel for Is-m-el; si-lunce for si-lence.

1. Not unto us, O Lord! not unto us,


But unto thy name give glory,
For thy mercy, and for thy truth’s sake.
Wherefore should the + heathen say,
Where is now their God?
But our God is in the heavens:
He hath done whatsoever he hath pleased.
— : : :

ECLECTIC SERIES. 287

2. Their idols are silver and gold,


The work of men’s hands.
They have months, hut they speak not:
Eyes have they, but they see not:
They have ears, but they hear not
Noses have they, but they smell not:
They have hands, but they handle not:
Feet have they, hut they walk not:
Neither speak they through their throat.
They tli at make them are. like unto them;
So is every one that + trusteth in them.

3. O Israel trust thou in the Lord


!

He is their help and their + shield.


O house of Aaron trust in the Lord
!

He is their help and their shield.


Ye that fear the Lord, trust in the Lord:
He is their help and their shield.

4. The Lord hath been '‘'mindful of us; he will bless us;


He will bless the house of Israel:
He will bless the house of Aaron:
He will bless them that fear the Lord,
Both small and great.
The Lord shall 'Increase you more and more,
You and your children.
Ye are blessed of the Lord
Which made heaven and earth.
5. The heaven, even the heavens, are the Lord’s:
But the earth hath he given to the children of men
The dead praise not the Lord,
Neither any that go down into + silence.
But we will bless the Lord
From this time forth and for + evermore:
Praise the Lord!

Exercises. What is the sentiment expressed by this Psalm?


AVliat is the contrast made 'between the true God, and the idols of
the heathen?

Point out the emphatic words in the 1st paragraph. Explain the
inflections in the 2nd paragraph, and point out the emphatic words.
S ;

288 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON LXXXIII.

1. Classic; n. a book written by \ 2. Sanc'tion; n. authority


an author of the first class. {
3. Veb/sa-tile; adj. (pi*o. vers'a-

1. An-tiq'ui-ty; n. great age. < til) various in application.


] . Un-ri / val- 6D ;
w. having no 4 Vin'dt-cIt-ed
. v. defended;
;
j
equal. s justified.
2. Au-tiien-tic'i-ty; n. genuine- 6. Seu'aph; n. an angel of the
ness; the quality of being a s highest order. [of Christ,
real original. \
6. E-van'gel-ist ;
n. a preacher

THE BIBLE, THE BEST OF CLASSICS.


Remark. — peak every syllable distinctly, and do not slip over
the little words, nor pronounce them wrong.

Articulate distinctly the following and similar words in this

lesson. Do not say worl for world?; no-bles for no-ble&?; gif for
gift; re-flec for re-flec?-; juss for jus?; e-van-gcl-iss for e-van-gel-fs?.

1. There is a classic, the best the world has ever seen,


the noblest that has ever honored and + dignified the
language of mortals. If we look into its antiquity, we
discover a title to our veneration, unrivaled in the his-
tory of literature. If we have respect to its evidences,
they are found in the testimony of miracle and projihesy
In the ministry of man, of nature, and of angels, yea,
even of “God, manifest in the flesh,” of “God blessed
forever.”
2. If we + consider its authenticity, no other pages

have survived the lapse of time, that can be compared


with it. If we examine its + authority, for it speaks as
never man spake, we discover, that it came from heaven,
in + vision and + propliesy, under the sanction of Him,
who is Creator of all things, and the Giver of every good
and perfect gift.
3. If we reflect on its truths, they are lovely and spot-

less, sublime and holy as God himself, + unchangeable as

his nature, durable as his righteous + dominion, and ver-


satile as the moral condition of mankind. If we regard

ECLECTIC SERIES?. 289

the value of its treasures, we must ’’'estimate them, not


like the relics of classic antiquity, by the perishable
glory and beauty, virtue and happiness, of this world,
but by the enduring- + perfection and supreme + felicity
of an eternal kingdom.
4. If we inquire, who are the men, that have ’•'recorded

its truths, vindicated and '•'illustrated the '•'ex-


its rights,
cellence of its scheme, from the depth of ages and from
the living world, from the populous continent and the
isles of the sea, comes forth the answer: the patriarch
and the prophet, the evangelist and the + martyr.
5. If we look abroad through the world of men, the

victims of folly or vice, the prey of cruelty, of injustice,


and inquire what are its benefits, even in this '•'temporal
state, the great and the humble, the rich and the poor,
the powerful and the weak, the learned and the igno-
rant reply, as with one voice, that humility and ’•'resig-
nation, purity, order, and peace, faith, hope, and charity,
are its blessings upon earth.
6. And if, raising our eyes from time to eternity, from
the world of mortals to the world of just men made
perfect, from the visible creation, ’’'marvelous, beautiful,
and glorious as it is, to the invisible creation of angels
and seraphs, from the footstool of God to the throne of
God himself, we ask,what are the blessings that flow
from this single volume, let the question be answered by
the pen of the evangelist, the harp of the prophet, and
the records of the book of life.
7. Such is the best of classics the world has ever

admired; such, the noblest that man has ever adopted


as a guide.

Exercises. Why is the Bible called a classic? What is said


of the antiquity of the Bible? What is said of its evidences? What,
of its authenticity?' What, of the nature of its truths? What, of
the men who wrote itand have defended it? What is said of the
change it produces in the character of men? What, of its bearing
upon our future prospects?
Name the nouns in the last paragraph. The verbs. The adjectives.
The adverbs.
290 nIw fifth reader.

LESSON LXXXIV.

1. Wrought; v. labored. 12. Gar'nish-cd ;


adj. adorned ;
|

1. EciUo-eD; v. repeated; sound- \


beautified.
ed back. [certain. \ 14. Spin'et ;
n. a musical instru-
2. Vague; adj. indefinite; un- 14. ment.
4. Quaffed; v. drank eagerly. > 14. As'tral; n. an ornamental
5. Sur-prise'; n. wonder; aston- < lamp.
ishment. [color. ) 14. Eug; n. the fire-place.
5. Ha'zel; adj. a light brown j
'

Dozing adj. half-asleep


; ;

9. Har /
vest-er ;
n. one who < drowsy.
gathers a harvest. >
15. Re-pij/er; n. a complainer.
11. Dow'er; n. the property which <
15. Drudge; n. an unwilling la-
a wife brings her husband. |
borer.

MAUD MULLER.
1. Maud Muller, on a summer’s day,
Raked the meadow sweet with hay.
Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth
Of simple beauty and rustic health.
Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee
The mock-bird echoed from his tree.
2. But, when she glanced to the far-off town,
White from its hill-slope looking down,
The sweet song died, and a vague unrest,
And a nameless longing filled her breast;
A wish, that she hardly dared to own,
For something better than she had known.

3. The Judge rode slowly down the lane,


Smoothing his horse’s chestnut mane:
He drew his bridle in the shade
Of theapple-trees to greet the maid;
And ask a draught from the spring that flowed,
Through the meadow, across the road.
4. She stooped where the cool spring bubbled up,
And filled for him her small tin cup,
ECLECTIC SERIES. 291

And blushed as she gave it, looking down


On her feet so bare, and her tattered gown.
“Thanks!” said the Judge, “a sweeter draught
5

From a fairer hand was never quaffed.'

5. He spoke of the grass, and flowers, and trees,


Of the singing birds and the' humming bees;
Then talked of the haying, and wondered whether
The cloud in the west would bring foul weather.
And Maud forgot her brier-torn gown,
And her graceful ankles bare and brown,
And listened, while a pleased surprise
Looked from her long-lashed hazel eyes.

6. At last, like one who for delay


Seeks a vain excuse, he rode away.
Maud Muller looked and sighed: “Ah, me!
That I the- Judge’s bride might be!
He would dress me up in silks so fine,
And praise and toast me at his wine.
7. “My father should wear a broadcloth coat;
My brother should sail a painted boat;
I ’d dress my mother so grand and gay,
And the baby should have. a new toy each day;
And I ’d feed the hungry and clothe the poor,
And all should bless me who left our door.”
8. The Judge looked back as he climbed the hill,

And saw Maud Muller standing still.


“A form more fair, a face more sweet,
Ne’er has it been my lot to meet;
And her modest answer and graceful air
Show her wise and good as she is fair.

9. “Would she were i$ine, and I to-day,


Like her, a harvester of hay:
No doubtful balance of rights and wrongs,
Nor weary lawyers with endless tongues;
But low of cattle, and song of birds,
And health, and quiet, and loving words.”
5th Rd. 25.
292 NEW FIFTH READER.
10. But he thought of proud and cold,
his sisters,
And his mother, vain of her rank and gold;
So, closing his heart, the Judge rode on,
And Maud was left in the field alone:
But the lawyers smiled that afternoon,
When he hummed in court an old love-tune;
And the young girl mused beside the well,
Till the rain on the unraked clover fell.

11. He wedded a wife of richest dower,


Who lived for fashion, as he for power;
Yet oft, in his marble hearth’s bright glow,
He watched a picture come and go;
And sweet Maud Muller’s hazel eyes,
Looked out in their innocent surprise.

12. Oft, whenthe wine in his glass was red,


He longed for the wayside well instead;
And closed his eyes on his garnished rooms,
To dream of meadows and clover-blooms.
And the proud man sighed, with secret pain,
“Ah, that I were free again!
Free as when I rode that day,
Where the barefoot maiden raked her hay.”

13. She wedded a man unlearned and poor,


And many children played round her door;
But care and sorrow and wasting pain
Left their traces on heart and brain.
And oft, when the summer sun shone hot,
On the new-mown hay in the meadow lot,
And she heard the little spring brook fall
Over the roadside, through the wall,
In the shade of the apple-tree again,
She saw a rider draw his rein,
And gazing down with timid grace,
She felt his pleased eyes read her face.

14. Sometimes her narrow kitchen walls


Stretched away into stately halls;
The weary wheel to a spinet turned;
The tallow candle an astral burned;
; !

ECLECTIC SERIES. 2

And for him who sat by the chimney lug,


Dozing and grumbling o’er pipe and mug,
A manly form at her side she saw,
And joy was duty, and love was law:
Then she took up her burden of life again,
Saying only, “It might have been!”

15. Alas for maiden, alas for Judge,


For rich repiner and household drudge!
God pity them both! and pity us all,
Who vainly the dreams of youth recall
For of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these: “It might have been!”
Ah, well! for us all some sweet hope lies
Deeply buried from human eyes;
And in the hereafter, angels may
Roll the stone from its grave away!

ROCK ME TO SLEEP.

1. Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your fligi ti


Make me a child again, just for to-night!
Mother, come back from the echoless shore;
Take me again to your arms as of yore;
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care;
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair;
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep

2. Backward, flow backward, O tide of years!


I am so weary of toils and of tears;
Toils without recompense, tears all in vain;
Take them, and give me my childhood again!
I have grown weary of dust and decay,
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away;
Weary of sowing for others to reap;
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!

3. Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue;


Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you!
— : ! !

294 NEW FIFTH READER.


Many a summer the grass has grown green,
Blossomed and faded, our faces between;
Yet with strong yearnings and passionate pain,
Long I to-night for your presence again;
Come from the silence so long and so deep
Bock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!

4. Over my heart in the days that arc flown,


Mo love like a mother’s love ever has shone;
Mo other worship abides and endures,
and patient like yours
Faithful, unselfish,
Mone like a mother can charm away pain
From the sick soul, and the world-weary brain;
Slumber’s soft calm o’er my heavy lids creep;
Bock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep

5. Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold.


Fall on your shoulders again, as of old;
Let it fall over my
forehead to-night,
Shielding my away from the light;
faint eyes
For with its sunny-edged shadows once more,
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore:
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;
Bock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!

6. Mother, dear mother! the years have been long


Since I last hushed to your lullaby song;
Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem
Womanhood’s years have been but a dream;
Clasped to your arms in a loving embrace,
With your long lashes just sweeping my face,
Mever hereafter to wake or to weep;
Bock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!

Exercises .
Who was Maud Muller ? What did the Judge say
as he drank the cool spring ivater? Why did Maud wish to be the
Judge’s bride? What were the Judge’s thoughts as he climbed the
hill? Are the hopes of youth often realized in after life? What is
the moral of this poem?

Repeat the first stanza of the second poem. Why did the poet wish
to be a child again? What does the poem say of a mother’s love?
Repeat the last stanza.

ECLECTIC SERIES. 295

LESSON LXXXV.
Es-POUs'eD; v. embraced. < 4. Phantom; n. a specter; an
Dis-as'trous; adj. unfortun- S apparition.
ate. > 6. Ae /
rie; n. (pro. e'-ry, or a'-ry)
1. Lowlands; n. the south of \
an eagle’s nest.
Scotland ;
called thus be- >
g. Crested adj. wearing a
;

cause the land lies compara- \ plume; here used figuratively


lively low. . The northern >
for proud; lofty. [equal.
part is called the High- s
g Peerless adj. having no
;

lands; because it is hilly. ? 7. Clay / more n. a two-handed


;

1. Pran 7ces; v. bounds, as a high s


sword used by the Scotch.
spirited horse does. i
8. Mys'tic-al; adj . .
secret; ob-
3. Reek ;
v. to give out steam or S scure.
vapor. S
8_ Lore; n. knowledge; instruc-
4. Gor'y; adj. bloody. > tion. [false.

5. Dc/tard; n. a foolish old man. ]


11. Sooth'less ;
adj. truthless;

LOCIIIEL’S WARNING.
Remar k. Be careful not. to slip over or mispronounce the small
words.
Lochiel was a brave and influential Highland chieftain. He es-
poused the cause of Charles Stuart, called the Pretender, who claimed
the British throne. In the following piece, he is supposed to be
marching with the warriors of his clan, to join Charles’s army. On
his way he is met by a Seer, who, having, according to the popular
superstition, the gift of second-sight, or prophecy, forewarns him of
the disastrous event of the +enterprise, and exhorts him to return
home, and avoid the destruction which certainly awaited him, and
which afterward fell upon him at the battle of Culloden, in 1745.

1. Seer. Lochiel! Lochiel! beware of the day


When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array!
For a fieldof the dead rushes red on my sight,
And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight;
They rally, they bleed, for their kingdom and crown ;

Woe, woe to the riders, that + trample them down!


Proud Cumberland prances, insulting the slain,
And their- hoof-beaten bosoms are trod to the plain.
2. But hark ! through the fast-flashing lightning of war,
What steed to the desert flies + frantic and far?
! !;,; ;!

296 NEW FIFTH READER.


’Tis thine, O, G-lenullin! whose "bride shall await,
Like a love-lighted watch-fire, all night at the gate:
A steed comes at morning; no rider is there;
But its bridle is red with the sign of despair.
3. Weep, AlhinI* to death and + captivity led!
weep but thy tears can not number the dead
O, !

For a merciless sword on Culloden shall wave,


Culloden ! that reeks with the blood of the brave.

4. Lochiel. Go, preach to the coward, thou death-telling


seer!
Or, if gory Culloden so dreadful appear,
Draw, dotard, around thy old ^wavering sight,
This mantle, to cover the phantoms of fright.

5. Seer. Ha! laugh’st thou, Lochiel, my vision to scorn?


Proud bird of the mountain, thy plume shall be torn
Say, rushed the bold eagle + exultingly forth,
From his home, in the dark-rolling clouds of the north ?
Lo the death-shot of foemen out-speeding, he rode
!

Companionless, bearing destruction abroad;


But down let him stoop from his Havoc on high
Ah! home let him speed, for the spoiler is nigh.

6. Why flames the far summit? Why shoot to the blast


Those embers, like stars from the firmament cast ?
’Tis the fire-shower of ruin, all dreadfully driven
From his aerie that + beacons the darkness of heaven.
O crested Lochiel ! the peerless in might,
Whose banners arise on the +battlements’ height
Heaven’s fire is around thee, to blast and to burn
Beturn to thy dwelling all lonely return !

For the blackness of ashes shall mark where it stood,


And a wild mother scream o’er her famishing brood.

7. Loch. False wizard, avaunt I have marshaled my clan


!

Their swords are a thousand, their bosoms are one!


They are true to the last of their blood and their
breath,

'*'The poetic name of Scotland, move particularly the Highlands.


—— ! ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 297

And like reapers descend to the harvest of death.


Then welcome be Cumberland’s steed to the shock!
Let him dash his proud foam like a wave on the rock!
But woe to his kindred, and woe to hi>s cause,
When Albin her claymore '•'indignantly draws;
When her bonneted chieftains to victory crowd,
Clanronald the '•'dauntless, and Moray the proud;
All plaided and plu,med in their tartan array

8. Seer. Lochiel, Lochiel, beware of the day!


For, dark and despairing, my sight I may seal,
But man can not cover what G-od would reveal:
’T is the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before.

9. 1 tell thee Culloden’s dread echoes shall ring


With the blood-hounds that bark for thy fugitive king.
Lo! anointed by heaven with the vials of wrath,
Behold where he flies oil his f desolate path!
Now, in darkness and billows, he sweeps from my
sight :*
Bise ! rise !
ye wild tempests, and cover his flight

10. ’T is finished.Their thunders are hushed on the moors


Culloden and my country + deplores.
is lost,

But where is the iron-bound prisoner ?f Where?


For the red eye of battle is shut in despair;
Say, mounts he the ocean wave, banished, '•'forlorn,
Like a limb from his country, cast bleeding and torn?
Ah no! for a darker departure is near;
The war-drum is '’'muffled, and black is the bier;
His death-bell is tolling; O! mercy! dispel
Yon sight that it freezes my spirit to tell!
Life flutters ’’'convulsed in his quivering limbs,
And his blood-streaming nostril in 4 agony swims.
Accursed be the faggots that blaze at his feet,
Where his heart shall be thrown, ere it ceases to beat,
With the smoke of its ashes to poison the gale

* Alluding to the narrow e'scape of Charles by water from the west


©f Scotland.
fHe refers here to Lochiel.
——

298 NEW FIFTH READER.


11. Loch. Doavii, soothless insulter! I trust not the tale;
Though my perishing ranks should be strewed in
their gore,
Like ocean weeds heaped on the + surf-beaten shore,

Lochiel, "’'untainted by flight or by chains,


While the kindling of life in his bosom remains,
Shall victor "’'exult, or in death be laid low,
With his back to the field, and his feet to the foe!
And leaving in battle no blot on his name,
Look proudly to heaven from the death-bed of fame.
Exercises .
Who was Lochiel? For whom did he fight? What
is meant by a Seer? What do you understand by their bosoms being
“hoof-beaten?” How did Lochiel reply to the warning of the Seer?
What became of the King, or Pretender, as he was called?

LESSON LXXXVI.
1. In'ier-views n. meetings;^
;
3. Ar'bi-ter ;
n. one who con^
mutual sight or view. >
trols or decides between
2. Rav'age; n. waste; ruin. > others.
2. Un-knell^d; v. without the > 3. Yest*; n. (the same as yeast),
tolling of a bell at one's fu- ! the foam of the sea.
neral. >
4. Realms n. kingdoms.
;

3. Ar / ma-ment ;
n. a body of na- > 4. Az'ure; adj. blue; like the sky.
val forces equipped for war; > 5. Glasses*; v. mirrors as in a
ships of war. \ glass.
3. Le-vPa-than ;
n. a huge sea
;
5. Slime; n. sticky mud.
,
animal ;
here used figuratively > 5. Zone ;
n. a division of the
for ships. < earth.

APOSTROPHE TO THE OCEAN.


Remark. Be careful to speak such little words as by, in, on, a ,

and, at, of, with, for, to, from through, the, &c., very distinctly, and yet
,

not to dwell on them so long as on other more important words.

1. There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,


There is a + rapture on the lonely shore,

® Throughout this work, that definition is given which belongs to

the word as it is used in the lesson. This meaning is frequently


figurative.
;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 299

There is society where none '•'intrudes


By
the deep sea. and music in its roar.
I love not man the less, hut Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the universe, and feel
What I can ne’er express, yet can not all + conceal.

2. Boll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll!


Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin, his + control
Stops with the shore; upon the watery plain
The + wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man’s ravage, save his own,
When for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknelled, + uncoflined, and un-
known.
ifc ^ ^ ^
3. The armaments which ’•'thunder-strike the walls
Of rock -built cities, bidding nations + quake,
And monarchs tremble in their + capitals

The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make


Their clay creator the vain title take
Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war;
These are thy toys, and, as the snowy + flake,
They melt into the yest of waves, which mar
Alike the Armada’s pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.

4. Thy shores are + empires, changed in all save thee;


Assyria, Greece, Borne, Carthage —what are they?
Thy waters wasted them while they were free,
And many a +tyrant since; their shores obey
The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay
Has dried up + realms to deserts: not so thou,
+
Unchangeable save to thy wild waves’ play;
Time writes no wrinkles on thy azure brow;
Such as creation’s dawm beheld, thou rollest now.

5. Thou glorious ’•'mirror, where the Almighty’s form


Glasses itself in tempests; in all time,

300 NEW FIFTH READER.
Calm or + convulsed; in breeze, or gale, or storm,
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime,
Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and +sublime;
The image of Eternity, the throne
Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime
The + monsters of the deep are made; each zone
Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, + fathomless,
alone.

Exercises .
meant by “ oak leviathans ? ” How is the
Wliat is

ocean the image of eternity? Where is Trafalgar, and for what is


it celebrated? Wh«re was Assyria? Carthage? Where is Rome?
Greece?

LESSON LXXXVII.
2. Con 7 victs; n. persons found $ 8. Rat-tan 7 n. a small cane
;

guilty of crime. < which grows in India.


2. Ward'en; n. a keeper; one l 8. Par7ley; n. conversation or
who guards. < conference with an enemy.
4. Brigands n. robbers those ; ;
> 11. Im-pre-ca7 tions ;
n. curses ;

who live by plunder. \ prayers for evil.


7
5. Mot 7
ley; adj. composed of va- (
12. In-dom i-ta-ble adj. that can ;

rious colors. s not be subdued or tamed.


5. De-mo'ni-ac; adj. devil-like. t 16. Quell; v. to subdue; to crush.
6. Sub-or 7 di-nate ;
adj. inferior. ] 17. Blenched; v. gave way;
6. Per'il; n danger. . shrunk.
|

7. Ma-rines 7 ;
n. (pro. ma-rcens') 19. Car 7nage ;
n. slaughter.
|

soldiers that serve on board 19. Re-prieve 7 n. ;


a delay of
of ships. |
punishment.
7 7
7. De-mean or; n. behavior; de- 20. Ex it; n. passage out of a
portment. place.

REBELLION IN MASSACHUSETTS STATE-PRISON.


1. A
more + impressive '•'exhibition of moral courage,
opposed to the wildest + ferocity, under the most '•'appall-
ing circumstances, was never seen, than that which was
witnessed, by the officers of our state-prison, in the
rebellion which occurred about five years since.
2. Three convicts had been sentenced under the rules

of the prison to be whipped in the yard, and by some


ECLECTIC SERIES. 301

effort of one of the other prisoners, a door had been


opened at midday ^communicating with the great dining-
hall, and through the warden’s lodge with the street.
3. The dining-hall is long, dark, and damp, from its

situation near the surface of the ground and in this all


;

the prisoners assembled, with clubs, and such tools as


they could seize in passing through the workshops.
4. Knives, hammers, and chisels, with every variety

of such weapons, were in the hands of the ferocious


spirits, who are drawn away from their ^encroachments
on society, forming a '''congregation of strength, vile-
ness, and talent, that can hardly be equaled on earth,
even among the famed brigands of Italy.
5. Men of all ages and characters, guilty of every

variety of + infamous crime, dressed in the motley and


peculiar garb of the institution, and displaying the wild
and demoniac appearance that always pertains to im-
prisoned wretches, were gathered together for the single
purpose of preventing the punishment which was to be
inflicted on the morrow, upon their + comrades.
6. The warden, the surgeon, and some other officers

of the prison, were there at the time, and were alarmed


at the consequences likely to ensue from the ^conflict
necessary to restore order. They huddled together, and
could scarcely be said to consult, as the stoutest among
them lost all presence of mind in overwhelming fear.
The news rapidly spread through the town, and a sub-
ordinate officer, of most mild and kind + disposition,
hurried to the scene, and came calm and collected into
the midst of the officers. The most + equable-tempered
and the mildest man in the government, was in this
hour of peril the firmest.
7. He instantly dispatched a request to Major Wain-
right, commander of the marines + stationed at the navy-
yard, for assistance, and declared his purpose to enter
into the hall and try the force of firm demeanor and
+ persuasion upon the enraged multitude.
8. All his brethren exclaimed against an attempt so
full of hazard; but in vain. They offered him arms, a
sword and pistols, but he refused them, and said, that
302 NEW FIFTH READER.
he had no fear, and in case of danger, arms would do
him no service: and alone, with only a little rattan,
which
9. was his nsual walking-stick, he advanced into the
hall, to hold parley with the selected, + congregated, and
enraged villains of the whole ''commonwealth.
He demanded their purpose, in thus coming to-
gether with arms, in violation of the prison laws. They
replied, that they were determined to obtain the remis-
sion of the punishment of their three comrades. He
said, it was impossible; the rules of the prison must be
obeyed, and they must submit.
10. At the hint of submission, they drew a little nearer
together, prepared their weapons for service, and as they
were dimly seen in the further end of the hall, by those
who observed, from the gratings that opened up to the
day, a more appalling sight can not be conceived,, nor
one of more moral '‘grandeur, than that of the single
man, standing within their grasp, and exposed to be
torn limb from limb instantly, if a word or look should
add to the already 'Intense excitement.
11. That excitement, too, was of a most dangerous
kind. It broke not forth in noise and imprecations,
but was seen only in the dark looks and the strained
nerves, that showed a deep determination. The officer
+ expostulated. He reminded them of the '‘‘hopelessness
of escape; that the town was alarmed, and that the
government of the prison would submit to nothing but
unconditional surrender. He said, that all those avIio
would go quietly away, should be forgiven for this
offense; but, that if every prisoner was killed in the
contest, power enough would be obtained to enforce the
regulations of the prison.
12. They replied, that they expected that some would
be killed, that death would be better than such impris-
onment, and with that look and tone, which bespeak
an indomitable purpose, they declared, that not a man
should leave the hall alive, till the flogging w'as re-
mitted. At this period of the + discussion, their evil
passions seemed to be more inflamed, and one or two
offered to destroy the. officer, who still stood firmer, and
ECLECTIC SERIES. 303

with a more temperate pulse, than did his friends, who


saw from above, but could not ''’avert the danger that
threatened him.
13. Just at this moment, and in about fifteen minutes
from the + commencement of the tumult, the officer saw
the feet of the marines, whose presence alone he relied
on for "’’succor, filing by the small upper lights. With-
out any apparent anxiety, he had repeatedly turned his
attention to their approach, and now he knew that it
was his Only time to escape, before a ’’’conflict for life
became, as was expected, one of the most dark and
dreadful in the world.
14. He
stepped slowly backward, still urging them to
depart, before the officerswere driven to use the last
resort of fire-arms. When within three or four feet of
the door, it was opened, and closed instantly again, as
he sprang through, and was thus unexpectedly restored
to his friends.
15. Major Wainright was requested to order his men
to fire down upon the convicts through the little win-
dows, first with powder and then with ball, till they
were willing to retreat but he took a wiser as well
;

as a bolder course, relying upon the effect which firm


determination would have upon men so '’’critically situ-
ated. He ordered the door to be again opened, and
marched in at the head of twenty or thirty men, who
filed through the passage, and. formed at the end of
the hall, opposite to the crowd of criminals "’’huddled
together at the other.
16. He stated that he was empowered to quell the
rebellion, that he wished to avoid shedding blood, but
that he should not quit that hall alive, till every con-
vict had returned to his duty. They seemed "’’balancing
the strength of the two parties and replied, that some
;

of them were ready to die, and only waited for an attack


to see which was the more powerful, swearing that they
would fight to the last, unless the punishment was re-
mitted, for they would not submit to any such pun-
-

ishment in the prison. Major Wainright ordered his


marines to load their pieces, and, that they might not
304 NEW FIFTH READER.
be suspected of trifling, each man was made to hold up
to view the bullet which he afterward put in his gun.
17. This only caused a growl of determination, and
no one blenched, or seemed disposed to shrink from
the foremost + exposure. They knew that their number
would enable them to bear down and destroy the hand-
ful of marines, after the first discharge, and before their
pieces could be reloaded. Again, they were ordered to
retire but they answered with more ferocity than ever.
;

The marines were ordered to take their aim so as to be


sure and kill as many as possible. Their guns were pre-
sented, but not a prisoner stirred, except to grasp more
firmly his weapon.
18. Still desirous to avoid such a + tremendous slaugh-
ter, as must have followed the discharge of a single gun,
Major ‘Wainright advanced a step or two, and spoke
even more firmly than before, urging them to depart.
Again, and while looking directly into the muzzles of
the guns, which they had seen loaded with ball, they
declared their intention u to fight it out.” This '''in-
trepid officer then took out his watch, and told his men
to hold their pieces aimed at the bonvicts, but not to fire
till they had orders; then, turning to the prisoners, he

said, “You must leave this hall; I give you three min-
utes to decide; if at the end of that time, a man remains,
he shall be shot dead.”
19. No situation of greater interest than this, can be
conceived. At one end of the hall, a fearful multitude
of the most *desperate and powerful men in existence,
waiting for the + assault at the other, a little band
;

of + disciplined men, waiting with arms presented, and


ready, upon the least motion or sign, to begin the car-
nage; and their tall and imposing commander, holding
up his watch to count the lapse of three minutes, given
as the reprieve to the lives of hundreds. No poet or
painter can conceive a spectacle of more dark and ter-
rible + sublimity; no human heart can conceive a situa-
tion ofmore appalling suspense.
For two minutes, not a person nor a muscle was
20.
moved, not a sound was heard in the unwonted stillness
ECLECTIC SERIES. 305

of the prison, except the labored breathings of the


+ infuriated wretches, as they began to pant, between

fear and revenge: at the expiration of two minutes,


during which they had faced the ministers of death
with + unblenching eyes, two or three of those in the
rear,and nearest the further entrance, went slowly out:
a few more followed the example, dropping out quietly
and ’’'deliberately; and before half of the last minute
was gone, every man was struck by the panic, and
crowded for an exit, and the hall was cleared as if by
magic.
21. Thus the steady firmness of moral force, and the
strong effect of h determination, acting deliberately, awed
the most savage men, and + suppressed a scene of car-
nage, which would have instantly followed the least
'precipitancy or exertion of physical force.

It may be that more lofty courage dwells


In one weak heart which braves an adverse fate,
Than does in his, whose soul indignant swells,
Warmed by the fight, or cheered through high debate.
Exercises . —Give an account of the scene described in this
lesson. What accounts for the conduct of the subordinate officer,

who, though ordinarily the mildest, was on this occasion the firmest?
Suppose Major W. had fired through the windows, as he was advised,
what would have been, in all probability, the result? What gained
this bloodless victory?

Explain the inflections, and point out the emphatic words in the
last two paragraphs.

EXERCISE XXXVIII.
Or b’d, prob’st, trou blst, troubles, trou bl’dst, ribs, robb’st, handl’d,
fon dl’st, breadths, laugh’st, dark’ ns, da rk’rid, da rk’n’st, dark’n’dst ,

streng^A’n, strengthens, strength' n d, strength’ n st, strength' n dst.


;

306 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON LXXXVIII.
1. Rec-og-ni'tion ;
n. acknowl- £
3. Ex-tinc'tion ;
n. a putting an
edgment. 5 end to.
2. Fab / ric ;
n. any system com-
4 Fer/til-ize v. to make fruit-
;
|
posed of connected parts. >
fu p
2. E-RAs'eD; v. blotted out. \ 4. A'the-ism; n. disbelief in God.
3. Per'pe-tra-tor ;
n. one that 4. Sen-su-al'i-ty ;
n. indulgence
j

commits a crime. < in animal pleasure.

RELIGION, THE ONLY BASIS OF SOCIETY.


Articulate clearly all the consonants in the following and simi-
lar words in this lesson: stability, prosperity, interested, principles,
friend, suspect, comprehends, fabric, concerns, itself, improvements,
perpetrator, extinction, describe, unprotected, trample, restraints.

Religion is a social concern; for it operates power-


1.

fully on society, ^contributing, in various ways, to its


stability and prosperity. Religion is not merely a pri-
vate affair the + community is deeply interested in its
;

+ diffusion; for it is the best support of the virtues and

principles, on which the social order rests. Pure and


undefiled religion is, to do good; and it follows, very
plainly, that, if God be the 'Author and Friend of so-
ciety, then, the recognition of him must enforce all
social duty, and enlightened piety must give its whole
strength to public order.
2. Few men suspect, perhaps no man + comprehends,
the extent of the support given by religion to every
virtue. iNo man, perhaps, is aware, how much our
moral and + social sentiments are fed from this fountain
how + powerless conscience would become without the
belief of a God; how palsied would be human benevo-
lence, were there not the sense of a higher benevolence
to quicken and sustain it; how suddenly the whole
social fabric would quake, and with what a fearful crash
it would sink into hopeless ruin, were the ideas of a

Supreme Being, of + accountableness and of a future life,


to be utterly erased from every mind.

ECLECTIC SERIES. 307

3. And, let men thoroughly believe that they are the


work and sport of chance; that no superior "^intelli-
gence concerns itself with human affairs; that all their
improvements perish forever at death; that the weak
have no "‘'guardian, and the injured no "''avenger that ;

there is no + recompense for sacrifices to uprightness and


the public good; that an oath is unheard in- heaven;
that secret crimes have no witness but the perpetrator;
that human existence has no purpose, and human virtue
no unfailing friend; that this brief life is every thing
to us, and- death is total, ‘'everlasting extinction; once
let them and who can con-
thoroughly "‘'abandon religion,
ceive or describe the extent of the desolation which
would follow?
4. We hope, perhaps, that human laws and natural

sympathy would hold society together. As reasonably


might we believe, that were the sun quenched in the
heavens, our torches would "‘'illuminate, and our fires
quicken and fertilize the creation. What is there in
human nature to awaken respect and tenderness, if man
+
is the unprotected insect of a day? And what is he
more, if atheism be true?
5. Erase all thought and fear of God from a commu-

nity, and selfishness and sensuality would absorb the


whole man. Appetite, knowing no restraint, and suffer-
ing, having no solace or hope, would trample in scorn
on the restraints of human laws. Yirtue, duty, prin-
ciple, would be mocked and spurned as unmeaning
sounds. A "‘'sordid self-interest would + supplant every
feeling; and man would become, in fact, what the the-
ory in atheism declares him to be , —a companion for
brutes.

Exercises. What is the operation of religion upon society?


What would be the effect of the removal of religion, upon the whole
fabric of virtue? Why would not human laws and sympathies hold
society together?
5th Rd. 26.
;

308 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON LXXXIX.

2. Fer/ven-cy; n. warmth. 5 5. Re-veai/ing; v. making known.

3. Mimics ;
v. imitates. $ 7. Seb/aph ;
n. an angel.

THE THREE SONS.


1. I have a son, a little son, a boy just five years old,
With eyes of thoughtful +earnestness, and mind of gentle
mold.
They tell me that unusual grace in all his ways appears;
That my child is grave and wise of heart beyond his childish
years.

2. I can not say how this may be; I know his face is fair,
And yet his sweetest -Homeliness is his sweet and serious air;
I know his heart is kind and fond, I know he loveth me,
But loveth yet his mother more, with grateful fervency.
But that which others most admire is the thought which fills

his mind;
The food for grave, inquiring speech he every-where doth find.

3. Strange questions doth he ask of me, when we together walk;


He scarcely thinks as children think, or talks as children talk.
Nor cares he much for childish sports, dotes not on bat or ball,
But looks on manhood’s ways and works, and aptlv mimics all.
H is little heart is busy still, and oftentimes perplexed
With thoughts about this world of ours, and thoughts about
the next.

4. He kneels at his dear mother’s knee, she teaches him to pray;


And'strange, and sweet, and solemn, then, are the words which
he will say.
0, should my gentle child be spared to manhood’s years like
me,
A holier and a wiser man, I trust that he will be
And when I look into his eyes, and press his thoughtful brow,
I dare not think what I should feel, were I to lose him now.
: ;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 309


5. I have a son, a second son, a simple child of three;
I ’ll not declare how bright and fair his little features be,
How silver-sweet those tones of his, when he ^prattles on my
knee
I do not think his light-blue eye is, like his brother’s, keen,
Nor his brow so full of childish thought as his has ever been;
But his little heart’s a Ffountain pure, of kind and tender
feeling
And his every look’s a gleam of light, rich depths of love
revealing.
When he walks with me, the country folks, who pass us in the
street,
Will shout for joy, and bless my boy, lie looks so mild and
sweet.

6. A playfellow is he and yet with cheerful tone


to all,
Will sing his little song of love, when left to sport alone.
His presence is like sunshine sent, to +gladden home and
hearth,
To comfort us in all our griefs, and sweeten all our mirth.
Should he gi'ow up to riper years, God grant his heart may
prove
As sweet a home for heavenly grace as now for earthly love;
And if, beside his grave, the tears our aching eyes must dim,
God comfort us for all the love that we shall lose in him.

7. I have a son, a third sweet son; his age I can not tell,
For they reckon not by years and months where he is gone to
dwell.
To us for fourteen ^anxious months his infant smiles were
given,
And then he bid farewell to earth, and went to live in heaven.
I can not tell what form is his, what looks he weareth now,
Nor guess how bright a glory crowns his shining seraph brow,
The thoughts that fill his sinless soul, the +bliss which he doth
feel,

Are numbered with the secret things which God will not
+reveal.

8. But I know (for God hath told me this) that he is now at rest,
Where other blessed infants be, on their Savior’s loving breast:
I know his spirit feels no more this weary load of flesh,
But his sleep is blessed with endless dreams of joy forever
fresh.

310 NEW FIFTH READER. A
r

I know the angels fold him close beneath their glittering


wings,
And soothe him with a song that breathes of heaven’s +divinest
things.
I know that we shall meet our babe (his mother dear and I)
Where God for aye shall wipe away from every eye.
all tears

Whatever befalls his brethren twain, his bliss can never cease;
Their lot' may here be grief and fear, but his is certain peace.

9. It may be that the tempter’s wiles their souls from bliss may
sever,
But, if our own poor faith fail not, he must be ours forever.
When we think of what our darling is, and what we still
must be;
When we muse on that world’s perfect bliss, and this world’s
misery ;

When we groari beneath this load of sin, and feel this grief
and pain,
0, we’d rather lose our other two, than have him here again.

Exercises. How many sons are spoken of? What is said of


the first? Of the second? Of the third?

LESSON XC.
1. Ge'ni-al; adj. cheerful. 1 4. Urchin; n. a child.
2. EN-AikEL-eD; v. made hard and 5. Var'let; n. scoundrel.
smooth. ; 6. Vo-luptHj-a-ry; n. a pleasure-
3. Rev'el-ry ;
ri. merriment. j
seeker. [to the stomach.
4. Ec / sta-sy ;
n. rapture. ) 7. Gas-tro-nomHc ;
adj. relating

THE BOBOLINK.
Articulate distinctly. Do not say happ'ies for hap-pi-est; poise
for poets; fulles for full-esfk tinJclin for tink-liny ; feeVn for feel-
ing; buds for binfs.-

1. The
happiest bird of our spring, however, and one
that rivals the European lark in my estimation, is the
boblincon, or bobolink, as he is commonly called. He
arrives at that choice portion of our year, which, in this
latitude, answers to the description of the month of May
so often given by the poets. With us it begins about
ECLECTIC SERiyES. 311

the middle of May, and lasts until nearly the middle of


June. Earlier than this, winter is apt to return on its
traces, and to blight the opening beauties of the year;
and later than this, begin the parching, and panting,
and ^dissolving heats of summer. But in this genial
interval, Nature is in all her freshness and + fragrance:
“the rains are over and gone, the flowers appear upon
the earth, the time of the singing of birds is come, and
the voice of the turtle is heard in the land.”
2. The trees are now in their fullest '‘'foliage and
brightest verdure ;
t.hewoods are gay with the clustered
flowers of the laurel; the air is perfumed with the sweet-
brierand the wild-rose; the meadows are enameled with
clover-blossoms; while the young apple, peach, and the
plum begin to swell, and the cherry to glow among the
green leaves.
3. This is the chosen season of revelry of the bobo-

link. He comes amid the pomp and fragrance of the


season; his life seems all + sensibility and enjoyment, all
song and sunshine. He is to be found in the soft bosoms
of the freshest and sweetest meadows, and is most in
song when the clover is in blossom. He ^perches on
the topmost twig of a tree* or on some long, + flaunt-
ing weed, and as he rises and sinks with the breeze,
pours forth a + succession of rich, tinkling notes, crowd-
ing one upon another, like the outpouring melody of
the sky-lark, and possessing the same + rapturous char-
acter.
4. Sometimes, he pitches from the summit of a tree,
begins his song as soon as he gets' upon the wing, and
flutters + tremulously down to the earth, as if overcome
with ecstasy at his own music. Sometimes he is in
pursuit of his mate; always in full song, as if he would
win her by his + melody; and always with the same
appearance cf + intoxication and delight. Of all the
birds of our groves and meadows, the bobolink was
the envy of my boyhood. He crossed my path in the
sweetest weather, and the sweetest season of the year,
when all nature called to the fields, and the rural feel-
ing throbbed in every bosom; but when I, luckless

312 NEW FIFTH READER.
urchin! was doomed to be mewed up, during the live'
long day, in a school-room.
5. It seemed as if the little varlet mocked at me, as

he flew by in full song, and sought to Haunt me with


his happier lot. O, how I envied him! No lessons, no
task, no school; nothing but holiday, frolic, green fields,
and fine weather. Had I been then more versed in
poetry, I might have addressed him in the words of
Logan to the cuckoo:
“Sweet bird, thy bower is ever green,
Thy sky is ever clear;
Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,
No winter in thy year.

“0, could I fly, I’d fly with thee!


We’d make, on joyful wing,
Our annual visit round the globe,
Companions of the spring.”
6. Further observation and experience have given me
a different idea of this feathered voluptuary, which I
will venture to ‘'impart, for the benefit of my young
readers, who may regard him with the same unqualified
envy and admiration which I once indulged. I have
shown him only as I saw him at first, in what I may
call the poetical part of his career, Avhen he, in a man-
ner, devoted himself to elegant pursuits and enjoyments,
and was a bird of music, and song, and taste, and sensi-
bility, and + refinement. While this lasted he was sacred
from injury; the very school -boy would not fling a stone
at him, and the merest + rustic would pause to listen to
his strain.
7. But mark the difference. As the year advances, as
the clover-blossoms disappear, and the spring fades into
summer, he gradually gives up his elegant tastes and
assumes a + russet,
habits, doffs his poetical suit of black,
dusty garb, and sinks to the gross enjoyment of com-
mon, vulgar birds. His notes no longer ^vibrate on
the ear; he is stuffing himself with the seeds of the tall
weeds on which he lately swung, and chanted so melodi-
ously. He has become a “bon vivant,” a “gourmand
with him now there is nooning like the “joys of the

ECLECTIC SERIES. 313

table.” In a little while, he grows tired of plain, homely


fare, and is off on a gastronomic tour in quest of foreign
luxuries.
8. We
next hear of him, with myriads of his kind,
+ banqueting among the reeds of the Delaware, and
grown 'corpulent with good feeding. He has changed
his name in traveling. Boblincon no more, he is the
reed-bird now, the much-sought-for titbit of Pennsyl- '

vania ^epicures, the rival in unlucky fame of the orto-


lan !Wherever he goes, pop pop pop every rusty ! !
!

firelock in the country is blazing away. He sees his


companions falling by thousands around him. Does he
take warning and reform ? Alas not he. Again he !

wings his flight. The rice-swamps of the south invite


him. He gorges himself among them almost to burst-
ing; he can scarcely fly for ^corpulency. He has once
more changed his name, and is now the famous rice-bird
of the Carolinas. Last stage of his career: behold him
spitted, with dozens of his corpulent companions, and
served up, a vaunted dish, on some southern table.
9. Such is the story of the bobolink; once spiritual,

musical, admired, the joy of the meadows,, and the fa-


vorite bird of spring; finally, a gross little ^sensualist,
who + expiates his
sensuality in the 'larder. His story
contains a moral, worthy the attention of all little birds
and little boys; warning them to keep to those refined
and intellectual pursuits, which raised him to so high a
pitch of popularity during the early part of his career,
but to + eschew all tendency to' that gross and dissipated
indulgence, which brought this mistaken little bird to
an untimely end.

Exercises. When does the bobolink come? How does he ap-


pear? What does he do? As the year advances what change occurs
in him? What does he become at last?

EXERCISE XXXIX.
Mind, minds, niindsi; find, finds, fi ndst; yi eld, yields, yi eldst;
len gtlin, len gth'ns, length’nst, length’nd,- length’ ndst ; bright' n,
6nglWns, bright' nst, fo'iglu’nd, ib’ighPnd’s?.
314 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON XCI.

2. Perch ;
v. to light or settle on > 5. Dome ;
n. a building. Here it

any thing.
^
means the heavens.
3. Pen'ance; n. suffering for sin. ;>
g Con'se-crat-ed; adj. set apart
4. Lays; n. songs.. for the service of God.
^
5. Choir (pro. kwire ) ;
n. a collec- £ 8. Track'less adj. having no
;

tion of singers. 3 path.

THE WINGED WORSHIPERS.


[To two swallows, that flew into Church during Service.]

Pronounce correctly. Do not say guilt-liss for guiltAss ; mor-


tals for mov-tals ;
pen-unce for pen -ance; up-wad for up-ward.
1. G-ay, ''guiltless pair',
e
What seek ye from the fields of heaven?
Ye have no need of + prayer',
Ye have no sins' to be forgiven.
2. Why perch ye here^,
Where Maker bend?
mortals'' to their
Can your pure spirits fear
The God ye never could offend?
3. Ye never knew
The crimes which we come to weep:
for
Penancenot for you',
is

Blessed Gvand’rers of the upper deep.


4. To you ’tis given
To wake sweet nature’s + un taught lays;
Beneath the arch of heaven
To + chirp away a life of praise.
5. Then* spread each wing,
Far, far above, o’er lakes and lands,
And join the choirs that sing
In yon blue dome not + reared with hands.
6. Or if ye stay
To note the consecrated hour,
Teach me. the + airy way,
And let me try your + envied power.

ECLECTIC SERIES. 315

7. Above the crowd,


On upward wings could I but fly,
I ’d bathe in yon bright cloud,
And seek the stars that gem the sky.

8: ’T were heaven indeed,


Through fields of trackless light to soar,
On nature’s charms to feed,
And nature’s own great God + adore.
Exercises. On what occasion was this poem written? We
w^s this addressed to the birds in
address letters to our friends;
the same sense? Do you discover any beautiful expressions in this
lesson? Point them out.
Give the rule for the rising inflection at “pair.” For the falling in-
flection at “heaven.” For the rising inflection at “prayer” and “sins.”

3.
LESSON XCII.
4.
1. Gui/lies; n. hollows in the $
5. Lar'i-at; n. a long cord or
earth worn by water. \ thong of leather, with a
2. En-am'el-cd; c. ( used figure) noose, for catc hing wild
tivcly) covered with a glossy horses. [on the side,
j
surface like enamel. >
g Flanking adj. overlooking
;

3. Ru'mi-nat-inG ;
v. chewing^ 9. Jack-o’lan'tern; adj. a light,
over what has been slightly £
seen in low, moist grounds,
chewed before. \ which disappears when ap-
IIerb'age; n. pasture; grass. \
proached. [a shelter.
3. Lawns; open spaces between
n. > 9. Cov'ert; n. a covering place;
woods. [movement. 10. Pan'ic ;
n. sudden fright.
^

4. Ma-neu'ver ;
n. a dexterous < 11. Scour'ing; v. passing swiftly.
Prai'rie; n. an extensive, level \ 12. Brake; n. a thicket of shrubs
tract without trees, but cov- ] or canes,
ered with tall grass. s 15. Mar^rcd; v. interrupted;
4. Window ard; n. the point from spoiled, [full of fire,
j

which the wind blows. < 15. Mer-cu'b i-al ;


adj. sprightly;

CAPTURING THE WILD HORSE.


1. We the + buffalo camp about eight o’clock, and
left
had a toilsome and + harassing march of two hours, over*
ridges c f hills, covered with a ragged forest of scrub
\ oaks, and broken by deep gullies.
ottfcR. 27.
316 NEW FIFTH READER.
2. About ten o’clock in the morning, we came to

where this lino of rugged hills swept down into a val-


ley, through which flowed the north fork of Red river.
A beautiful meadow, about half a mile wide, enameled
with yellow, ^autumnal flowers, stretched for two or
three miles along the foot of the hills, bordered on the
opposite side by the river, whose banks were fringed with
cotton-wood trees, the bright foliage of which refreshed
and delighted the eye, after being wearied by the con-
templation of + monotonous wastes of brown forest.
3. The meadow was finely ^diversified by groves and

clumps of trees, so happily disposed, that they seemed


as if set out by the hand of art. As we cast our eyes
over this fresh and delightful valley, we beheld a troop
of wild horses, quietly grazing on a green lawn, about
a mile distant, to our right, while to our left, at nearly
the same distance, were several buffaloes; some feeding,
others reposing, and ruminating among the high, rich
herbage, under the shade of a clump of cotton-wood
trees. The whole had the appearance of a broad, beau-
tiful on the highly-ornamented
tract of pasture-land,
estate ofsome gentleman farmer, with his cattle grazing
about the lawns and meadows.
4. A '''council of war was now held, and it was de-

termined to profit by the present favorable opportunity,


and try our hand at the grand hunting maneuver, which
is called “ ringing the wild horse.” This requires a
large party of horsemen* well mounted. They extend
themselves in each direction, at a certain distance apart,
and gradually form a ring of two or three miles in t cir-
cumference, so as to surround the game. This must be
done with extreme care, for the wild horse is the most
readily alarmed inhabitant of the prairie, and can scent
a hunter a great distance, if to windward.
5. The ring being formed, two or three ride toward

the horses, which start off in an opposite direction.


Whenever they approach the bounds of the ring, how-
ever, a huntsman presents himself, and turns them
from their course. In this way, they are checked, and
driven back at every point, and kept galloping round
ECLECTIC SERIES, 317
+ completely
and round this "''magic circle, until, being
tired down, it is easy for hunters to ride up beside them,
and throw the lariat over their heads. The prime horses
of the most speed, courage, and bottom, however, are apt
to break through and escape, so that, in general, it is
the second-rate horses that are taken.
6. were now made for
"‘'Preparations a hunt of this
kind. The pack-horses were now taken into the woods,
and firmly tied to trees, lest in a rush of wild horses,
they should break away. Twenty-five men were then
sent under the command of a lieutenant, to steal along
the edge of the valley, within the strip of wood that
"'"skirted the hills. They were to station themselves
about fifty yards apart, within the edge of the woods,
and not advance or show themselves until the horses
dashed in that direction. Twenty-five men were sent
across the valley, to steal in like manner along the river
bank that bordered the opposite side, and to station
themselves among the trees.
7. A third party of aboht the same number was to

form a line, stretching across the lower part of the val-


ley, so as to connect the two wings-. Behtte and our
other half-breed, Antoine, together with the ever offi-
cious Tonish, were to make a "''circuit through the woods,
so as to get to the upper part of the valley, in the rear
of the horses, and drive them forward, into the kind of
sack that we had formed, while the two wings should
join behind them, and make a complete circle.
8. The flanking parties were quietly extending them-

selves out of sight, on each side of the valley, and the


residue were stretching themselves like the links of a
chain across it, when the wild horses gave signs that they
scented an enemy; snuffing the air, snorting, and look-
ing about. At length, they "‘‘pranced off slowly toward
the river, and disappeared behind a green bank.
9. Here, had the regulations of the chhse been ob-

served, they would have been quietly checked and


turned back by the advance of a hunter from the trees.
+ Unluckily, however, we had our "•'wild-fire, Jack-o’lan-

tern, little Frenchman to deal with. Instead of keeping


;

318 NEW FIFTH READER.


quietly up the right side of the valley, to get above
the horses, the moment he saw them move toward the
river, he broke out of the covert of woods, and dashed
furiously across the plain in pursuit of them. This put
an end to all system. The half-breeds, and half a score
of Hangers, joined in the chase.
10. Away they all went over the green bank. In a
moment or two, the wild horses re-appeared, and came
thundering down the valley, with Frenchman, half-
breeds, and rangers, galloping and bellowing behind
them. It was in vain that the line drawn across the
valley, attempted to check, and turn back the fugitives;
they were too hotly pressed by their pursuers: in their
panic they dashed through the line, and "^clattered down
the plain.
11. The whole troop joined in the headlong chase,
some of the rangers without hats or caps, their hair
flying about their ears, and others with handkerchiefs
tied round their heads. The buffaloes, which had been
calmly ruminating among the herbage, heaved up their
huge forms, gazed for a moment at the tempest that
came scouring down the meadow, then, turned and took
to heavy, rolling flight. They were soon overtaken
the + promiscuous throng were pressed together, by the
contracting sides of the valley, and away they went v ,

pell-mell v + hurry-skurry v wild buffalo, wild horsev


, , ,

wild huntsman v with clang and clatter'*, and whoop


,

and hallo that made the forests ring v .

12. At length, the buffaloes turned into a green brake,


on the river bank, while the horses dashed up a narrow
+ defile of the hills, with their pursuers close to their

heels. Beatte passed several of them, having fixed his


eye upon a fine Pawnee horse that had his ears slit, and
saddle marks upon his back. He pressed him gallantly,
but lost him in the woods.
13. Among the wild horses, was a fine black mare,
which in 'Scrambling up the defile, tripped and fell. A
young ranger sprang from his horse, and seized her by
the mane and + muzzle. Another ranger dismounted,
and came to his assistance. The mare struggled fiercely,

ECLECTIC SERIES. 319

kicking and biting, and striking with her forefeet, but


a noose was slipped over her head, and her struggles
were in vain.
was some time, however, before she gave over
14. It
rearing and plunging, and lashing out with her feet on
every side. The two rangers then led her along the
valley, by two strong lariats, which enabled them to
keep at a sufficient distance on each side, to be out of
the reach of her hoofs, and whenever she struck out in
one direction, she was jerked in the other. In this way
her spirit was gradually "''subdued.
15. As to Tonish, who had marred the whole scheme
by his ’‘precipitancy, he had been more successful than
he deserved, having managed to catch a beautiful cream
colored colt about seven months old, that had not
strength to keep up with its companions. The mer-
curial little Frenchman was beside himself with texulta-
tion. It was amusing to see him with his prize. The
colt would rear and kick, and struggle to get free, when
Tonish would take him about the neck, wrestle with
him, jump on his back, and cut as many antics as a
monkey with a kitten.
16. Nothing surprised me more, however, than to wit-
ness how soon these poor animals, thus taken from the
unbounded freedom of the prairie, yielded to the domin-
ion of man. In the course of two or three days, the
mare and colt went with the lead horses, and became
quite + docile.

Exercises. Near what river did this expedition commence?


Where is that river? Describe the country, scenery, etc. What
animated objects presented themselves to view upon the right and
the left? To what is the whole scene compared? What hunting
maneuver was commenced? Describe it. What is the lariat? De-
scribe the proceedings of the party in this maneuver, What inter-
rupted its successful completion? Give the striking contrast between
the flight of the wild horses and that of the buffaloes. Describe the
capture of the black mare. What was the conduct of thp captured
animals ip respect to being tamed?
; ! ;

320 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON XCIII.

1. Le'gion; n. division of an 5 5. Co'quet-ry; n. trifling in love.


army. 5 5. Ciio'rus ;
n. music in Avhicli

2. Corse ;
n. a dead body. ? all join.

2. Hoard; n. what is laid up. \ 6. Yore; adv. old times.

The word Bingen is pronounced Bing'en not Bin'gen or Bin'jen.


,

THE SOLDIER OF THE RHINE.


1. A Soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers,
There was lack of Avoman’s nursing, there was + dearth of
woman’s tears,
But a comrade stood beside him, while the life-blood ebbed
away,
And bent with pitying glances to hear what he might say.
The dying soldier faltered, as he took that comrade’s hand,
And he said: “I nevermore shall see my own, my native land!
Take a message and a token to some distant friends of mine,
For I was born at Bingen, at Bingen on the Rhine!

2. “ Tell my brothers and companions, when they meet and crowd


around,
To hear my mournful story, in the pleasant + vineyard ground,
That we fought the battle bravely, and when the day was done,
Full many a corse lay ghastly pale, beneath the setting sun;
And ’mid the dead and dying, were some grown old in Avars,
The deatli-Avound on their gallant breasts, the last of many
scars
But some were young, and suddenly beheld Life’s morn decline,
And one had come from Bingen, fair Bingen on the Rhine!
3. “Tell my mother
that her other sons shall comfort her old age,
For I Avasaye a truant bird, that thought his home a cage;
For my father was a soldier, and, even Avhen a child,
My heart leaped forth to hear him tell of struggles fierce and
wild
And when he died, and left us to divide his + scanty hoard,
them take whate’er they would, but kept my father’s sword!
I let

And with boyish love I hung it Avhere the bright light used to
shine,
On the cottage wall at Bingen, calm Bingen on the Rhine!
! !

ECLECTIC SERIES. 321

4. “Tell my sister not to weep for me, and sob with drooping head,
When the troops come marching home again, with glad and
^gallant tread;
But to look upon them proudly, with a calm and steadfast eye,
For her brother was a soldier, too, and not afraid to die!
And if a comrade seek her love, I ask her in my name
To listen to him kindly, without + regret or shame;
And to hang the old sword in its place, (my father’s sword and
mine,)
For the honor of old Bingen, dear Bingen on the Rhine!

5. “There’s another, not a sister; in happy days gone by,


You ’d have known her by the ^merriment that sparkled in
her eye;
Too innocent for coquetry, too fond for idle '‘‘scorning,
0-! friend, I fear the lightest heart makes sometimes heaviest

mourning
Tell her. the last night of my life — (for, ere the moon be risen,
My body will be out of pain, my soul be out of prison),
I dreamed 1 stood with her, and saw the yellow sunlight shine
On the vine-dad hills of Bingen, fair Bingen on the Rhine!

G. “ 1 saw the blue Rhine sweep along: I heard, or seemed to hear,

The German songs we used to sing, in chorus sweet and clear;


And down the pleasant river, and up the slanting hill,
The '‘'echoing chorus sounded, through the evening calm and
still'!

And her glad blue eyes were on me, as we passed with friendly
talk,
Down many a path beloved of yore, and well-remembered walk;
And her little hand lay lightly, + confidingly in mine;
But we’ll meet no more at Bingen, loved Bingen on the Rhine!”

7. His voice grew faint and hoarser, his grasp was childish weak,
His eyes put on a dying look, he sighed and ceased to speak;
His comrade bent to lift him, but the spark of life had fled,
The soldier of the -Legion, in a foreign land, was dead!
And the soft moon rose up slowly, and calmly she looked down
On the red sand of the battle-field, with bloody corpses strewn
Yes, calmly on that dreadful scene, her pale light seemed to
shine,
As it shone on distant Bingen, fair Bingen on the Rhine.
322 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON XCIV.

1. Ro-manc'ing; adj. telling fa- 5 5. Sus-pend'ed; v. put off.

bles. 5. Pre-ma-ture'; adj. too soon;


j

3. Fe-lic/i-ty; n. happiness. \ too early.

MATILDA.
Pronounce correctly. Do not say thousun for tliou-sane?; ro-

mancin for ro-manc-in^ ; momunt for mo-ment ;


utmos for ut-mos<;
felic'ty for fe-lic-i-ty ;
varus for va-n-ous ;
partic larly for par-tic-w-
lar-ly; unforiurite for un-for-tw-nate ;
spectatur for spec-ta-tor.

1. happiness is in the power of One, who can


Our
bring about in a thousand unforeseen ways, that
it

mock our foresight. If example be necessary to prove


this, I will give you a story, told us by a grave, though
sometimes romancing; + historian.
2. “Matilda was married, very young, to a Neapoli-

tan nobleman of the first + quality, and found herself a


widow and a mother, at the age of fifteen. As she stood,
one day, + caressing her infant son, in the open window
of an apartment which hung over the river Volturnus,
the child, with a sudden spring, leaped from her arms
into the flood below, and disappeared in a moment.
The mother, struck with instant surprise, and making
an effort to save him, plunged in after; but, far from
being able to assist the infant, she herself, with great
difficulty, escaped to the opposite shore, just when some
French soldiers were plundering the country on that
side, who immediately made her their prisoner.
3. “As the war was then carried on between the

French and Italians, with the utmost inhumanity,' they


were going, at once, to take her life. This base + reso-
lution, however, was opposed by a young officer, who,
though their retreat required the utmost expedition,
placed her behind him, and carried her in safety to her
native city. Her beauty, at first, caught his eye, her
merit, soon after, his heart. They were married: he
ECLECTIC SERIES. 323

rose to the highest posts: they lived long together, and


were happy. But the felicity of a soldier can never he
called permanent. After an + interval of several years,
the troops which he commanded having met with a re-
pulse, he was obliged to take shelter in the city where
he had lived with his wife. Here they suffered a siege,
and the city, at length, was taken.
4. “Few histories can produce more various instances

of cruelty, than those which the French and Italians, at


that time, exercised upon each other. It was resolved
by the victors, upon this occasion, to put all the French
prisoners to death but particularly the husband of the"
;

unfortunate Matilda, as he was principally + instrumental


in + protracting the siege. Their determinations were,
in general, executed almost as soon as resolved upon.
5. “The captive soldier was led forth, and the execu-
tioner, with his sword, stood ready, while the specta-
tors, in gloomy silence, awaited the fatal blow, which
was only suspended till the general, who presided as
judge, should give the signal. It was in this interval
of anguish and expectation, that Matilda came to take
her last farewell of her husband and deliverer, deplor-
ing her wretched situation, and the + cruelty of fate, that
had saved her from perishing, by a premature death, in
the river Yolturnus to be the spectator of still greater
+ calamities.

6. “The general, who was a young man, was struck

with surprise at her beauty, and pity at her distress;


but with still stronger emotions, when he heard her
mention her former dangers. He was her son the in- ;

fant, for whom she had + encountered so much danger.


He acknowledged her, at once, as his mother, and fell at
her feet. The rest may be easily supposed. The captive
was set free, and all the happiness that love, friendship,
and duty could confer on each, was enjoyed.”
L

324 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON XCV.

2. Ad-vent'ur-ers ;
n. those who < 3. Sig'nal-iz-cd; v. made remark-
attempt difficult enterprises. \
able.
2. Sum/ma-ry; adj. short; brief. |,3.' De-tacii'mext ;
n. a party sent
2. Outrage; n. violence. $
off from the main body.

SPEECH OF LOGAN, CHIEF OF THE MINGOES.


Remark. — et every pupil notice, as each one reads, when the
final consonant of any word is joined to the vowel of the next word.

Articulate distinctly. Do not say who lof for whole of; an


dindeed for and indeed; eminen torutors for eminent orators; talen
, ,

tsin for talents in; celebraty din pea san dwar for celebrated in
, ,

peace and war.

1. I may + challenge the whole of the orations of

Demosthenes and Cicero, and indeed, of any more emi-


nent orators, if- Europe or the world, has furnished
more eminent, to produce a single passage superior to
the speech of Logan, a Mingo chief, delivered to Lord
Dunmore; when governor of Virginia. As a ^testimony
of Indian talents in this line, I beg leave to introduce
it, by first stating the ^incidents necessary for under-

standing it.
2. In the spring of the year 1774, a robbery was com-

mitted by some Indians, upon certain land adventurers


on the Ohio river. The whites in that quarter, accord-
ing to their custom, undertook to punish this outrage
in a summary way. Captain Michael Cresap and one
Daniel Greathouse, leading on. these parties, surprised,
at different times, traveling and hunting parties of the
Indians, who had their women and children with them,
and murdered many. Among these, were Linfortuii-
ately the family of Logan, a chief celebrated in peace
and war, and long + distinguished as the friend of the
whites.
3. This unworthy return provoked his + vengeance.
He accordingly signalized himself in the war which
ECLECTIC SERIES. 325

ensued. In the autumn of the same year, a + decisive


battle was fought at the mouth of the Great Kanawha,
between the collected forces of the Shawnees, the Man-
goes, and the Delawares, and a detachment of the Vir-
ginia militia. The Indians were defeated, and sued for
peace. Logan, however, + disdained to be seen among
the + suppliants: but, lest the ‘‘sincerity of a treaty, from,
which so distinguished a chief absented himself, should
be distrusted, he sent, by a messenger, the following-
speech to be delivered to Lord Dunmore.
4. “I appeal to any white man to say, if ever he

entered Logan’s cabin hungry, and he gave him not


meat if ever he came cold and naked, and he clothed
;

him not. During the course of the last long and bloody
Logan remained idle in his cabin, an + advocate for
Avar,
peace. Such was my love for the Avliites, that my coun-
trymen pointed as they passed, and said, -Logan is the
friend of the white men.’ I had even thought to live
with you, but for the injuries of one man.
5. ‘‘Colonel Cresap, last, spring, in cold blood, and
+ unprovoked, murdered all the '‘‘relatives of Logan, not
sparing even my women and children. There runs not
a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature.
This called on me for revenge. I have sought it. I
have killed many. I have fully + glutted my + venge-
ance. For my country, I rejoice at the beams of peace:
but do not + h arbor a thought that mine is the joy of
fear. Logan never felt fear. He will not turn on his
heel to save his life. Who is there to mourn for Logan?
Hot one.”
Exercises .—Who was Demosthenes ? Cicero ? AVho undertook
to punish the. Indians ? Whose family were killed ? AVhere was a
decisive battle fought ? AVhere does the Kanawha rise? Why did
not Logan appear among the suppliants?

In the sentence, “Logan never felt feai*,” which is the subject?


AVhich the attribute? See Pinneo’s Analytical Grammar.
326 NEW FIFTH READER,

LESSON XCYI.

1. Man'u-script ;
n. a written pa- ) 7. De-ci / pher; v. make out; to
per. < find the meaning of.

2. Cor'ri-dor; n. hall; passage- < 10. Con-cise 7 ;


adj. saying much
way. > in few words.
4. Jo-cose'ly ;
adv. in jest. jp Dic 7tat-ed; v. to state to an-
j
5. Dis-con-cert 7 ed; v. confused; other. [quest.
made ashamed. 7
? 12. Pe-ti tion; v. a written re-

THE GOOD READER.


1. It is related of Frederick the Great, King of Prus-
sia, that as he was seated, one day, in his private apart-
ment, a written petition was brought to him, with the
request that it should be immediately read. The King
had just returned from hunting, and the glare of the
sun, or some other cause, had so affected his eye-sight,
that be found it difficult to make out a single word of
the manuscript.
2. His private secretary happened to be absent and ;

the soldier who brought the petition could not read.


There was a page, or favorite boy-servant, in attendance
in the corridor; and upon him the King called. The
page was a son of one of the noblemen of the court, but
proved to be a very poor reader.
3. In the first place, he did not articulate distinctly.

He huddled his words together in the utterance, as if


they were syllables of one long word, which he must
get through with as speedily as possible. His pronun-
ciation was bad, and he did not modulate his voice so
as to bring out the meaning of what he read. Every
sentence was uttered with a dismal monotony of voice,
as if it did not differ in any respect from that which
preceded it.
4. “Stop!” said the King, impatiently. “Is it an auc-
tioneer’s catalogue of goods to be sold, that you are
hurrying over? Send your companion to me.” Another
ECLECTIC SERIES. 327

page who stood at the door, now entered, and to


him
ths King gave the petition. This second page began
by hemming and clearing his throat in such an affected
manner, that the King jocosely asked him if he had not
slept in the public garden, with the gate open, the night
before.
5. The second page had a good share of self-conceit,

however, and so was not greatly disconcerted by the


King’s jest. He determined that he would avoid the
rock on which his companion had been wrecked. So he
commenced reading the petition with great formality
and deliberation, emphasizing every word, and prolong-
ing the articulation of every syllable. But his manner
was so tedious, that the King cried out: “Stop! are you
reciting a lesson in the elementary sounds? Out of the
room! But no: stay! Send me that little girl who is
sitting there by the fountain.”
6. The girl thus pointed out by the King, was a

daughter of one of the laborers employed by the royal


gardener; and she had come to help her father weed
the flower-beds. It chanced that, like many of the poor
people in Prussia, even in that day, she had received a
good education. She was somewhat alarmed when she
found herself in the King’s presence, but was reassured
when the King told her that he only wanted her to read
for him, as his eyes were weak.
7. How, Ernestine (for this was the name of the little

girl) was so fond of reading aloud, that frequently many


of the poor people in the neighborhood would assemble
at her father’s house to hear her; and those who could
not read themselves, would bring to her letters to
decipher from distant friends or children. She thus
acquired the habit of reading various sorts of hand-
writing promptly and well.
8. The King gave her the petition, and she rapidly

glanced through the opening lines to get some idea of


what it was about. As she read, her eyes began to
glisten, and her breast to heave. “What is the mat-
ter?” asked the King ;-“ do n’t you know how to read?”
“Q! yes, sire,” she replied, addressing him with the
328 NEW FIFTH READER.
9. usually
title applied to him: “I will now read it, if you
please.'”
The two pages were about to leave the room.
“Remain,” said the King. The little girl began to read
the petition. It was from a poor widow, whose only
son had been drafted to serve in the army, although
his health was delicate, and his pursuits had been of a
character to unfit him for military life. His father had
been killed in battle, and the son was ambitious of being
a portrait-painter.
10. The writer told her story in a simple, concise
manner, that carried to the heart a conviction of its
truth; and Ernestine read it with so much feeling, and
with an articulation so just, in tones so pure and dis-
tinct, that when she had finished, the King, into whose
eyes the tears had started, exclaimed: “O! now I under-
stand what it is all about; but I might never have
known (certainly, I never should have felt,) its meaning,
had I trusted to these young gentlemen, whom I now
dismiss from my service for one year, recommending
them to occupy the time in learning to read.”
11. “As for you, my young lady,” continued the
King, “I know you will ask no better reward for your
trouble, than to be the instrument of carrying to this
poor widow my order for her son’s immediate dis-
charge. Let me see if you can write as well as you
can read. Take this pen and write as I dictate.” Ho
then dictated an order, which Ernestine wrote, and he
signed. Calling one of his guards, he bade him accom-
pany the girl, and see that the order was executed.
12. How much happiness was Ernestine the means
of bestowing through her good elocution, united to the
happy circumstance that brought it to the knowledge
of the King! First, there were her poor neighbors, to
whom she could give instruction and entertainment.
Then, there was the poor widow who sent the peti-
tion, and who not only regained her son, but received
through Ernestine an order for him to paint the King’s
likeness; so that the poor boy soon rose to great dis-
tinction, and had more orders than he could attend to.
;

ECLECTIC SERIES. 329

Words could not express his gratitude, and that of his


mother, to the little girl.
13. And Ernestine had, moreover, the satisfaction of
aiding her father to rise in the world, so that he became
the King’s chief gardener. The King did not forget
her, hut had her well educated at his own expense.
As for the two pages, she was indirectly the means of
benefiting them also; for, ashamed of their had read-
ing, they commenced studying in earnest, till they
overcame the faults that had offended the King. Both
finally rose to distinction, one as a lawyer, the other as
a statesman; and they owed their advancement in life
chiefly to their good elocution.

LESSON XCVII.

3. Prankish; adj. frolicsome. $ day; returning with the rev-


4. Pre-doji'i-nate ;
v. to have < olution of the year.
the most influence ;
to pre- ? 7. Coji-pla'cen-cy ;
n. pleasure
vail. \ satisfaction.
4. Baf^lcd; v. defeated.
j
8. Menace; n. the threatening
6. An-ni-ver'sa-ry ;
n. stated |
of evil to come.

MARTYN AND BYRON.


1. Both Henry Martyn and Lord Byron shared the
sorrows of life, and their records teach the different

workings of the Christian and the worldly mind. By-


ron lost his mother, and when urged not to give way to
sorrow, he burst into an agony of grief, saying, “I had
but one friend in the world, and now she is gone!” On
the death of some of his early friends, he thus writes:
“My friends fall around me, and I shall be left a lonely
tree before I am withered. I have no * resource hut my
own reflections and they present no prospect here or
,

hereafter, except the selfish satisfaction of surviving my


betters. I am indeed most wretched.”
2. And thus Henry Martyn mourns the loss of one
330 NEW FIFTH READER.
most dear: “Can it be that she has been lying so many
months in the cold grave? Would that I could always
remember it, or always forget it; but to think a moment
oa other things, and then feel the remembrance of it
come, as if for the first time, rends my heart + asunder.
O! my gracious God, what should I do without Thee!
But now thou art manifesting thyself as ‘the God of
all consolation.’ Never was I so near thee. There is
nothing in the world for which I could wish to live,
except because it may please God to appoint me some
work to do. O thou incomprehensibly glorious Savior,
!

what hast thou done to alleviate the sorrows of life!”


3. It is recorded of Byron, that, in society, he gen-

erally appeared humorous and prankish yet, when


;

^rallied on his melancholy turn of writing, his constant


answer was, that though thus merry and full of laugh-
ter, he was, at heart, one of the most miserable wretches
in existence.
4. And thus he writes: “Why, at the very height of
desire, and human pleasure, worldly, amorous, ambi-
tious, or even avaricious, does there mingle a certain
sense of doubt and sorrow, a fear of what is to come,
a doubt of what is? If it were not for hope, what
would the future be ? A hell As for the past, what
!

predominates in memory? Hopes baffled! From what-


ever place we commence, we know where it must all end.
And yet, what good is there in knowing it? It does
not make men wiser or better. If I were to live it
over again, I do not know what I would change in my
life, unless it were not to have lived at all. All history
and 'experience teach us, that good and evil are pretty
equally balanced in this existence, and that what is
most to be desired, is an easy passage out of it. What
can it give us but years, and these have little of good but
their ending."
5. And thus Martyn writes: “I am happier here in
thisremote land, where I seldom hear what happens in
the world, than I was in England, where there are so
many calls to look at things that are seen. The pre-
eious Word, is now my only study, by means of + trans-
ECLECTIC SERIES. 331

lations. Time flows on with great rapidity. It seems


would all be gone before any thing is done. I
as if life
sometimes rejoice that I am but twenty-seven, and that,
unless God should ordain it otherwise, I may double this
number in constant and + successful labor. But I shall
not cease from my happiness, and scarcely from my
labor, by passing into the other world.”
And thus they make
6. their records at anniversaries,
when the mind is called to review life and its labors.
Thus Byron writes, “At twelve o’clock I shall have
completed thirty-three years! I go to my bed with a
heaviness of heart at having lived so long and to so little
purpose. * * It is now three minutes past twelve, and
I am thirty-three!

‘Alas, my friend, the years pass swiftly by.’

But do not regret them so much for what I have


I
done, as for what I might have done.”
7. And thus Martyn “I like to find myself em-
:

ployed usefully, in a way I did not expect or foresee.


The coming year is to be a ^perilous one, but my life
is of little consequence, whether I finish the Persian

New Testament or not. I look back with pity on my-


self, when I attached so much importance to my life

and labors. The more I see of my own works, the more


I am ashamed of them, for coarseness and + clumsiness
mar all the works of man. I am sick when I look at
the wisdom of man, but am relieved by reflecting, that
we have a city whose builder and maker is God. The
least of Ms works is refreshing. A dried leaf, or a
straw, makes me feel in good company and complacency ,

and admiration take the place of disgust. What a mo-


mentary + duration is the life of man! ‘It glides along,
rolling onward forever,’ may be affirmed of the river;
but men pass away as soon as they begin to exist.
Well, let the moments pass!

‘They waft us sooner o’er


This life’s tempestuous sea,
Soon we shall reach the blissful shore

Of blest eternity !

5th Rd. 28.


— :

832 NEW FIFTH READER.


8. Such was the experience of those who in youth

completed their course. The poet has well described


his own + career

“A wandering mass of shapeless flame,


A and a curse,
pathless comet
The menace of the + universe;
Still rolling on with innate force,

Without a ^sphere, without a course,


A bright + deformity on high,
+ monster of the ”
The upper sky !

9.In holy writ we read of those who are “raging


waves of the sea, foaming out their own shame; wan-
dering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of dark-
ness forever.” The lips of man may not apply these
+ terrific words to any whose doom is yet to be disclosed;

but there is a passage which none can fear to apply..


“Those that are wise, shall shine as the brightness of
the +firmament; and they that turn many to righteous-
ness, as stars forever and ever!”

Exercises. How did Byron feel when he was enjoying him-


self most? How did Martyn feel when he was cut oft' from most of
the pleasures that Byron was seeking ? What is described as the
difference of their feelings at their birthdays ? What poetic descrip-
tion may be applied to Byron.

LESSON XC VIII.
1. Ex-tranced; v. (pro. en-transf) $ 3. Garland; n. a wreath of
charmed; filled with rapture. < flowers.
2. Whiles; adv. (put for whilst \
6. Moli/er ;
v. to decay.
or while.) > 6. Surge; n. a great rolling swell
3. Me'te-or; n. a luminous body < of water. (Here used figu-

passing through the air. > ratively.)

BYRON.
1. He touched his harp, and nations heard, entranced.
As some vast river of unfailing source,
Rapid, + exhaustless, deep, his numbers flowed,
And oped new + fountains in the human heart.
ECLECTIC SERIES. 333

Where fancy halted, weary in her flight,


In other men, his, fresh as morning, rose,
And soared untrodden heights, and seemed at home
Where angels bashful looked.

2. Others, though great,


Beneath their + argument seemed + struggling, whiles
He, from above descending, stooped to touch
The loftiest thought; and proudly stooped as though
It scarce deserved his verse.

3. With nature’s self


He seemed an old + acquaintance, free to jest
At will with all her glorious + majesty.
He laid his hand upon the “ocean’s mane,”
And played familiar with his hoary locks;
Stood on the Alps, stood on the Apennines,
And with the thunder talked, as friend to friend;
And wove his garland of the lightning’s wing,
In + sportiv6 twist; the lightning’s fiery wing,
Which, as the footsteps of the dreadful God,
Marching upon the storm in + vengeance, seemed;
Then turned, and with the grasshopper, which sung
His evening song beneath his feet, conversed.
Sun, moon, and stars, and clouds his sisters were;
Hocks, mountains, meteors, seas, and winds, and storms,
His brothers, younger brothers, whom he scarce
As equals deemed.

4. As some fierce comet of + tremendous size,


To which the stars did + reverence as it passed:

So he, through learning and through fancy, took


His flight + sublime; and on the loftiest top
Of fame’s dread mountain sat; not soiled and worn,
As if he from the earth had labored up:
But as some bird of + heavenly ’’'plumage fair,
He looked, which down from higher regions came,
And perched it there, to see what lay beneath.
5. Great man ! the nations gazed and wondered much
And praised: and many called his evil good;
— — ;

334 NEW FIFTH READER.


Wits wrote in favor of his wickedness,
And kings to do him honor took delight.
Thus full of titles, + flattery, honor, fame,
Beyond desire, beyond ambition full,
He died; he died of what? Of + wretchedness;
Drank every cup of joy, heard every trump
Of fame; drank early, deeply drank; drank + draughts
That common millions might have quenched, then died
Of thirst, because there was no more to drink.
His goddess Nature, wooed, embraced, enjoyed,
Fell from his arms + abhorred; his passion died;
Died, all but dreary, solitary pride:
And all his + sympathies in being died.
6. As some ill-guided bark, well-built ancl tall,
Which angry tides cast on our desert shore,
And then retiring, leave it there to rot
And molder in the winds and rains of heaven
So he, cut from the + sympathies of life,
And cast ashore from pleasure’ boiAerous surge, '

A wandering, weary, worn, and v ^etclm' thing, 1

Scorched, and + desolate, and blasted _oul,


A gloomy + wilderness of dying thought,
Repined, and groaned, and withered from u e earth.
Exercises . Who was Byron? Why is he compared to a t. met?
What was his character? Where ai*e the Alps? Where are the Ape. t

nines? What is meant by laying his hand upon the “ocean’s mane”?

LESSON XCIX.
1. Di-vin'i-ty; n. divine nature. 5 3. An'ti-dote; n. that which
3. Bane ;
n. poison ;
mischief. I counteracts poison.

IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL.


Scene. Cato, alone, sitting in a thoughtful posture; in his —
hand, Plato's book on the immortality of the soul ; a drawn
sword on the table by him.
1. Cato. It must be so. Plato, thou reasonest well!
Else whence this pleasing hope, this ffond desire,
W !

ECLECTIC SERIES. 335

This longing after 'Immortality ?


Or whence this secret dread and inward horror,
Of falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself, and startles at '^destruction?
’Tis the divinity that stirs within us!
’T is heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
And intimates + eternity to man.

2. Eternity, thou pleasing, dreadful thought


Through what + variety of untried being,
Through what new scenes and changes must we pass?
The wide unbounded prospect lies before me:
But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it.
Here will I hold. If there ’s a Power above us,
(And that there is, all Nature cries aloud
Through all her works) he must delight in virtue;
^nd that which he delights in must be happy.
But when? or where? This world was made for Csesar.

3.
1

’m weary of + conjectures this must end them.
Thus am I doubly armed: my death* and life,f
My bane* and antidotef are both before me.
This* in a moment brings me to an end;
But thisf informs me I shall never die.

4. The soul secured in her + existence smiles


At the drawn dagger, and defies its point.
The stars shall fade away, the sun himself
Grow dim with age, and Nature sink in years;
But thou shalt flourish in + immortal youth;
Unhurt amid the war of elements,
The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.

Exercises. — ho was Plato, and. in what country did he live?


What is meant by the What argument did
immortality of the soul?
Cato use to prove that there God ? What did Cato say He must
is a
delight in? What did he mean by “bane”? What by “antidote”?
Who alone can destroy the soul? Recite the last stanza.

®The sword. |The book.


336 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON C.

1. Col-lts'ion ;
n. striking to- l 5. Prov-o-ca/ tion ;
n. that which
gether violently. j
causes anger.
2. Pre-cip'i-tat-ed v. hurried £
6 - Ig-no-min'i-ous; adj. infamous.
;

forward.
j
7. Weal; n. prosperity; happi-
3. Corps ;
n. a body of troops. \
ness.

BEHIND TIME.
1. A
railroad train was rushing along at almost
lightning speed. A curve was just ahead, beyond which
was a station, where two trains usually met. The con-
ductor was late, so late that the period during which
the up-train was to wait had nearly elapsed; but he
hoped yet to pass the curve safely. Suddenly a loco-
motive dashed into sight right ahead. In an instant
there was a collision. A shriek, a shock, and fifty souls
were in eternity; and all, because an engineer had been
behind time.
2. A great battle was going on. Column after column
had been precipitated for eight hours on the enemy
posted along the ridge of a hill. The summer sun was
sinking in the west; reenforcements for the obstinate
defenders were already in sight it was necessary to ;

carry the position with one final charge, or every thing


would be lost.
3. A powerful corps had been summoned from across

the country, and if it came up in season all would yet


be well. The great conqueror, confident in its arrival,
formed his reserve into an attacking column, and or-
dered them to charge the enemy. The whole world
knows the result. Grouchy failed to appear; the im-
perial guard was beaten back; and Waterloo was lost.
Napoleon died a prisoner at St. Helena, because one of
his marshals was behind time.
4. A leading firm in commercial circles had long

struggled against bankruptcy. As it had large sums


ECLECTIC SERIES. 337

of money in California, expected remittances by a


it

certain day, and if they arrived, its credit, its honor,


and its future prosperity would be preserved. But
week after week elapsed without bringing the gold.
At last came the fatal day, on which the firm had bills
maturing to. large amounts. The steamer was tele-
graphed at day -break but it was found, on inquiry,
;

v that she brought no funds, and the house failed. The


next arrival brought nearly half a million to the insolv-
ents, but it was too late; they were ruined, because
their agent, in remitting, had been 'b'ehm-d time.
5. A condemned man was led out for execution. He
had taken human life, but under circumstances of the
greatest provocation and public sympath}^ was active
;

in his behalf. Thousands had signed petitions for a


reprieve; a favorable answer had been expected the
night before, and though it had not come, even the
sheriff felt confident that it would yet arrive* Thus
the morning passed without the appearance of the mes-
senger.
6. The last moment was
up. The prisoner took his
place, the cap was drawn over his eyes, the bolt was
drawn, and a lifeless body swung revolving in the wind.
Just at that moment a horseman came into sight, gal-
loping down hill, his steed covered with foam. He
carried a packet in his right hand, which he waved
frantically to the crowd. He was the express rider with
the repuieve; but he came too late. A comparatively
innocent man had died an ignominious death, because a
watch had been five minutes too late, making its bearer
arrive behind time.
7. It is continually so in life. The best laid plans, the
most important affairs, the fortunes of individuals, the
weal of nations, honor, happiness, life itself, are daily
sacrificed, because somebody is “behind time.” There
are men who always fail in whatever they undertake,
simply because they are “behind time.” There are
others who put off reformation year after year, till
death seizes them, and they perish unrepentant, because
forever “ behind time."
; :

338 NEW FIFTH READER.

LESSON CL
DEATH.
1. Welcome Death! My senses swim,
And the world growing dim
is
+ Thronging ^shadows crowd the light,
Like the + advent of the night;
Colder, colder, colder still,

Upward starts a ’’'vapor chill;


Strong the earthly ’’’odor grows;
above the rose.
I smell the ’’’mold

LIFE.
2. Welcome Life! The spirit strives!
Strength returns, and hope + revives;
Cloudy fears and shapes + forlorn
Fly like shadows at the morn
O’er the earth there comes a bloom;
Sunny light for sullen gloom,
Warm '’'perfume for vapor cold;
I smell the rose above the mold.

HEAVEN.
3. O spirit freed from + bondage,

thy work is done!


Kejoice,
The weary world is ’neath thy feet,
Thou brighter than the sun!
4. Awake and breathe the living air
Of our + celestial + clime!

Awake to love which knows no change,


Thou, who hast done with time!

5. Awake! ascend! Thou art not now


With those of mortal birth:
The living God hath touched thy lips,
Thou, who hast done with earth!

THE END.
V
*<
Date Due

m *«* mam

RHIIRM nr.Ti6
PE 1117 M28 18GG BK-5
MCGUFFE Y WILLIAM HOLMES
1800-1873
MCGUFFEY S ECLECTIC READER/
NL 40098479 CURR HIST

*00003444937 1 *

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