Arm'd with thunder, clad with wings,
Shall a wider world command.

8. "Regions Cesar* never knew
Thy posterity shall sway;
Where his eagles never flew,
None invincible as they.”

9. Such the bard's prophetic words,
Pregnant with celestial fire;
Bending as he swept the chords
Of his sweet but awful lyre.

10. She, with all a monarch's pride,
Felt them in her bosom glow:
Rush'd to battle, fought and died;
Dying, hurl'd them at the foe.

11. "Ruffians, pitiless as proud,

Heav'n awards the vengeance due:
Empire is on us bestow'd,

Shame and ruin wait for you."

LESSON XCVII.

The Common Lot.- MONTGOMERY.

1. ONCE in a flight of ages past,
There lived a man :-and wно was HE
-Mortal! howe'er thy lot be cast,

That man resembled Thee.

2. Unknown the region of his birth;
The land in which he died unknown;
His name hath perish'd from the earth;
This truth survives alone :-

3. That joy and grief, and hope and fear,
Alternate triumph'd in his breast;
His bliss and wo,- —a smile, a tear!
-Oblivion hides the rest.

4. The bounding pulse, the languid limb,

The changing spirits' rise and fall;

* Julius Cesar, a Roman General. He was the first Roman that invaded Britain, which he twice reduced to apparent subjection. He was assassinated by conspirators, B. C. 43.

We know that these were felt by him,
For these are felt by all.

5. He suffer'd-but his pangs are o'er;
Enjoy'd--but his delights are fled;

Had friends-his friends are now no more;
And foes-his foes are dead.

6. He lov'd—but whom he lov'd, the grave
Hath lost in its unconscious womb :

O she was fair!—but nought could save
Her beauty from the tomb.

7. The rolling seasons, day and night,
Sun, moon, and stars, the earth and main,
Erewhile his portion, life and light,
To him exist in vain.

8. He saw whatever thou hast seen;
Encounter'd all that troubles thee;
He was-whatever thou hast been;
He is what thou shalt be.

9. The clouds and sunbeams, o'er his eye
That once their shades and glory threw,
Have left, in yonder silent sky,
No vestige where they flew.

10. The annals of the human race,
Their ruins, since the world began,
Of HIм afford no other trace
Than this-THERE LIVED A MAN 1

LESSON XCVIII.8

On the Irresolution of Youth.-GOLDSMITH.

1. THE most usual way among young men, who have no resolution of their own, is, first to ask one friend's advice, and follow it for some time; then to ask advice of another, and turn to that; so of a third; still unsteady, always changing. However, every change of this nature is for the worse.

2. People may tell you of your being unfit for some peculiar occupations in life; but heed them not; whatever employment you follow with perseverance and assiduity, will be found fit for you; it will be your support in youth, and comfort in age

3. In lo ing the useful part of every profession, very moderate abilities will suffice: great abilities are generally obnoxious to the possessor. Life has been compared to a race; but the allusion still improves, by observing, that the most swift are ever the most apt to stray from the course.

4. To know one profession only, is enough for one man to know; and this, whatever the professors may tell you to the contrary, is soon learned. Be contented, therefore, with one good employment; for if you understand two at a time, people will give you no business in either.

5. A conjurer and a tailor once hapened to converse together. "Alas!" cries the tailor, "what an unhappy poor creature am I! If people ever take into their heads to live without clothes, I am undone; I have no other trade to have recourse to.""Indeed, friend, I pity you sincerely," replies the conjurer; "but, thank Heaven, things are not quite so bad with me; for, if one trick should fail, I have a hundred tricks more for them yet. However, if at any time you are reduced to beggary, apply to me, and I will relieve you."

6. A famine overspread the land; the tailor made a shift to live, because his customers could not be without clothes; but the poor conjurer, with all his hundred tricks, could find none that had money to throw away; it was in vain that he promised to eat fire, or to vomit pins; no single creature would relieve him, till he was at last obliged to beg from the very tailor whose calling he had formerly despised.

7. There are no obstructions more fatal to fortune than pride and resentment. If you must resent injuries at all, at least suppress your indignation till you become rich, and then show away. The resentment of a poor man is like the efforts of a harmless insect to sting; it may get him crushed, but cannot defend him. Who values that anger which is consumed only in empty menaces?

8. Once upon a time, a goose fed its young by a pond side; and a goose, in such circumstances, is always extremely proud, and excessively punctilious. If any other animal, without the least design to offend, happened to pass that way, the goose was immediately at it. "The pond," she said, 66 was her's, and she would maintain her right in it, and support her honor, while she had a bill to hiss, or a wing to flutter."

9. In this manner she drove away ducks, pigs, and chickens; nay, even the insidious cat was seen to scream. A lounging mastiff, however, happened to pass by, and thought it no harm

if he should lap a little of the water, as he was thirsty. The guardian goose flew at him like a fury, pecked at him with her beak, and flapped him with her wings.

10. The dog grew angry, and had twenty times a mind to give her a sly snap, but suppressing his indignation, because his master was nigh, "A pox take thee," cried he, "for a fool; sure those who have neither strength nor weapons to fight, at least, should be civil." So saying, he went forward to the pond, quenched his thirst in spite of the goose, and followed his master.

11. Another obstruction to the fortune of youth is, that while they are willing to take offence from none, they are also equally desirous of giving nobody offence. From hence they endeavor to please all, comply with every request, and attempt to suit themselves to every company; have no will of their own; but, like wax, catch every contiguous impression. By thus attempting to give universal satisfaction, they at last find themselves miserably disappointed. To bring the generality of admirers on our side, it is sufficient to attempt pleasing a very few.

12. A painter of eminence was once resolved to finish a piece which should please the whole world. When, therefore, he had drawn a picture in which his utmost skill was exhausted, it was exposed in the public market place, with directions at the bottom for every spectator to mark, with a brush that lay by, every limb and feature that seemed erroneous.

13. The spectators came, and in general applauded; but each, willing to show his talent at criticism, stigmatized whatever he thought proper. At evening, when the painter came, he was mortified to find the picture one universal blot; not a single stroke that had not the marks of disapprobation.

14. Not satisfied with this trial, the next day he was resolved to try them in a different manner; and exposing his picture as before, desired that every spectator would mark those beauties he approved or admired.

15. The people complied; and the artist returning, found his picture covered with the marks of beauty; every stroke that had yesterday been condemned, now received the character of approbation. "Well," cries the painter, "I now find, that the best way to please all the world, is to attempt pleasing one half of it."

LESSON XCIX.99

The Hero and the Sage.--MAVOR.

1. A WARRIOR,* who had been the successful commander of armies, on boasting of the thousands he had slain in the field, or cut off by stratagem, roused the indignant but humane feelings of a Sage, who unawed by military prowess, thus rebuked the insolence of his triumph: "You seem to exult, Sir, in the destruction of your kind, and to recapitulate with satisfaction the numbers you have deprived of life, or rendered miserable. As a man, I blush for you; as a philosopher, I pity you; as a christian, I despise you."

2. The hero reddened with wrath; he frowned with conempt; but he did not yet open his lips. "I am patriot enough,' continued the Sage, "to wish well to the arms of my country. i honor her valiant sons who support her glory and independence, and who risk their lives in her defence; but however neritorious this may be, in a just cause, the truly brave will tament the cruel necessity they are under of sacrificing their fellow-men; and the generous will rather commiserate than triumph.

3. "I never read of a battle, of the destruction of thousands and tens of thousands, but I involuntarily enter into calculations on the extent of misery which then ensues. The victims of the sword are, perhaps, least the objects of pity; they have fallen by an instant death, and are removed from the consciousness of the woes they have left behind. I extend my views to their surviving relatives and friends. I bewail the lacerated ties of nature. I sympathize with the widow and the orphan. My heart bleeds for parental agonies. I depict the warm vows of a genuine affection for ever lost; the silent throb of exquisite anguish; the tear which perhaps is forbidden to flow; and, from such a contemplation, I turn away with a sensibility that represses exultation for victory, however brilliant, and for success, however complete."

4. The warrior clapped his hand on his sword; he looked with indignation, but still was mute. The Sage went on. "I almost forget the name of enemy, when I reflect on the misery of man. The malignant passions that excite hostilities, between nations or individuals, seldom return on the aggressor's heads. Were this the case, moral justice would be satisfied, and reason would have less to censure or lament. But when the innocent

* Pronounced war'-yur.