imbue yourselves with the sound philosophy of later days, forming yourselves to the virtuous habits which are its legitimate offspring, that you may walk unhurt through the trials which await you, and may look down upon the ignorance and error that surround you, not with lofty and supercilious contempt, as the sages of old time, but with the vehement desire of enlightening those that wander in darkness, and who are by so much the more endeared to us, by how much they want our assistance.

LESSON LXXXVIII.

MIDNIGHT MEDITATION.-W. T. BACON.

1. Silence, and night! It is the time for thought; And the lone dreamer sends his weary eye

2.

Out from the casement, up to the dim stars,

And deems that from those rolling worlds comes to him

A cheering voice. How beautiful they are,

Those sparkling fires in that eternal void!

And yet how fancy dreams

Of those bright worlds! Tell us, ye unseen powers,
Ye that do gather round us in these hours

When the impassioned world lies locked in sleep,

And the day's whirl is over,
What are those rolling worlds!
Such as we dream of here?
Robed in such hues as this?

Heave their high tops to such

tell us here,

Are there bright scenes, Are there fair realms,

Do wild hills there

a

bright, blue heaven

As this which spans our world? Have they rocks there,
Ragged and thunder-rent, through whose wild chasms
Leap the white cataracts, and wreath the woods
With rainbow coronets? Spread such bright vales

3.

4.

There in the sunlight; cots, and villages,

Turrets, and towers, and temples,- dwell these there, Glowing with beauty?

Wilderness and wild,

Heaving and rolling their green tops, and ringing
With the glad notes of myriad-colored birds
Singing of happiness,- have they these there?
Spread such bright plains there to the admiring eye,
Veined by glad brooks? Waves, spreading sheets,
That mirror the white clouds, and moon, and stars,
Making a mimic heaven? Streams, mighty streams!
Waters, resistless floods! that, rolling on,

Gather like seas, and heave their waves about,
Mocking the tempest? Ocean! those vast tides
Tumbling about the globe with a wild roar
From age to age?

And tell us do those worlds

Change like our own?

Comes there the merry spring,

Soft and sweet-voiced; and, in its hands, the wreath
Of leaves to deck the forest? Have they the months
Of the full summer, with its skies, and clouds,
And suns, and showers, and soothing fragrance sent
Up from a thousand tubes? And autumn, too,
Pensive and pale, do these sweet days come there,
Wreathing the wilderness with such gay bands
Of brightness and of beauty? And, sublime,
Within his grasp the whirlwinds, and his brows
White with the storms of ages, and his breath
Fettering the streams, and ribbing the old hills
With ice, and sleet, and snow; and, far along
The sounding ocean's side, his frosty chains
Flinging, till the wild waves grow mute, or mutter

5.

Only in their dread caves -old Winter! he-
Have you him there?

And have ye minds,

Grasping and great like ours? and reaching souls,
That, spurning their prison, burst away, and soar
Up to a mightier converse, than the rounds
Of a dull, daily being? False, false, all!
And vain the wing of fancy to explore

The track of angels! Vain thought, to fold back
This gorgeous canopy, and send the eye

On to those realms of glory! Mighty One!
Thou who hast power o'er all! thou hast alone
Wrapped in thine own immensity, the power,
To paint a leaf, or roll ten thousand worlds
Around the universe!

LESSON LXXXIX.

NEW YORK AS IT ONCE WAS.- BANCROFT.

[The pupil may determine the character of the language or style of this piece, and note the succession of particulars and tell how they should be read.]

1. Somber forests shed a melancholy grandeur over the useless magnificence of nature, and hid in their deep shades the rich soil which the sun had never warmed. No ax had leveled the giant progeny of the crowded groves, in which the fantastic forms of withered limbs, that had been blasted and riven by lightning, contrasted strangely with the verdant freshness of a younger growth of branches. The wanton grape-vine, seeming by its own power to have sprung from the earth, and to have fastened its leafy coils on the top of the tallest

forest-tree, swung in the air with every breeze, like the loosened shrouds of a ship.

2. The spotted deer crouched among the thickets; but not to hide, for there was no pursuer; and there were none but wild animals to crop the uncut herbage of the productive prairies. Silence reigned, unbroken, it may have been, by the flight of land-birds, or the flapping of water-fowl, and rendered more dismal by the howl of wild beasts.

3. Man, then the occupant of the soil, was wild as the savage scene; in harmony with the rude nature by which he was surrounded; a vagrant over the continent; in constant warfare with his fellow-man; the bark of the birch his canoe; strings of shells his ornaments, his record, and his coin; the roots of the forest among his resources of food; and his knowledge of architecture, surpassed, both in strength and durability, by the skill of the beaver.

4. But how changea is the scene from that on which Hudson a gazed! The earth now glows with the colors of civilization; the banks of the streams are enameled with richest grasses; wood-lands and cultivated fields are harmoniously blended; the birds of spring find their delight in orchards and trim gardens, variegated with choicest plants from every temperate zone; while the brilliant flowers of the tropics bloom from the windows of the green-house and the saloon.

5. And man is still in harmony with nature, which he has subdued, cultivated, and adorned. For him, the rivers that flow to the remotest climes mingle their waters; for him, the lakes gain new outlets to the ocean; for him, the arch spans the flood, and science spreads iron pathways to the recent wilderness; for him, the hills yield up the shining marble and the enduring

a Hudson, (Henry,) an eminent English navigator, who discovered the bay and river called Hudson's bay, and Hudson river. He is supposed to have perished at sea, in 1611

granite; for him, the forests of the interior come down in immense rafts; for him, the marts of the city gather the produce of every clime; and libraries collect the works of genius of every language and every age.

6. The passions of society are chastened into purity; manners are made benevolent by civilization; and the virtue of the country is the guardian of its peace. Science investigates the powers of every plant and mineral, to find medicines for disease; schools of surgery rival the establishments of the old world. An active daily press, vigilant from party interests, free even to dissoluteness, watches the progress of society, and communicates every fact that can interest humanity; the genius of letters begins to unfold his powers in the warm sunshine of public favor. And while idle curiosity may take its walk in shady avenues by the ocean side, commerce pushes its wharves into the sea, blocks up the wide rivers with its fleets, and, sending its ships, the pride of naval architecture, to every clime, defies every wind, rides out every tempest, and invades every

zone.

LESSON XC.

PROGRESS OF CIVILIZATION.- NORTHERN LIGHT.

1. Thebes a and Carthage,b the rich capitals of once powerful empires, whose splendor and magnificence was the admiration of the world, are now no more.

The pyramids of Egypt,

the ruins of Thebes, the temples of Central America, are all mementos of the power and grandeur of races long since extinguished. They reared monuments, which, in their vain imagi nations they believed would endure through time, and inscribed

a Thebes, a city of ancient Egypt, on the Nile, noted for its splendid ruins. b Carthage, see p. 267. Egypt, a country in the north-east part of Africa, the cradle of the arts and sciences.

T