Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace
The day's disasters in his morning face';
Full well they laugh'd, with counterfeited glee,
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he':
Full well the busy whisper, circling round,
Convey'd the dismal tidings when he frown'd':
Yet he was kind', or if severe in aught',
The love he bore to learning was in fault'.

3. The village all declared how much he knew;
'Twas certain' he could write', and cipher' too;
Lands he could measure', terms and tides presage';3
And e'en the story ran that he could gauge.
In arguing, too, the parson own'd his skill,
For e'en though vanquished he could argue still';
While words of learned length and thundering sound
Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around-
And still they gazed', and still the wonder grew',
That one small head could carry all he knew.

GOLDSMITH.

1 FURZE, a beautiful evergreen shrub, with 3 PRE-SAGE', foreshow; predict.
brilliant yellow flowers, abundant on the 4
English commons.

2 TERMS, probably here referring to the terms
or times when the courts were to be held.

GAUGE (gaj), to measure the contents of a cask, barrel, or other vessel.

LESSON II.—THE RIGHTEOUS NEVER FORSAKEN.

1. Ir was Saturday night, and the widow of the Pine Cottage sat by her blazing fagots, with her five tattered 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 feeble hands had provided for her helpless family, for she had no supporter, no friend to whom to apply, in all the wide, unfriendly world around. 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, mid-winter, and the snow lay heavy and deep through all the surrounding forests, while storms still seemed gathering in the heavens, and the driving wind roared amid the bounding pines, and rocked her puny mansion.

2. 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 heartswellings of despair to rise, even though she knew that He whose promise is to the widow and to the orphan can not for

get his word. 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 note or tidings of him; and in latter time, by the hand of death, she had been deprived of the companion and staff of her earthly pilgrimage in the person of her husband. Yet to this hour she had been 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.

3. 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. But the industrious mother of helpless and depending children, far from the reach of human charity, has none of these to console her. And such a one was the widow of the Pine Cottage; but 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 impulse, and Cowper's beautiful lines came uncalled across her mind:

"Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,

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

4. 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 have tasted bread." The widow's heart bled anew as under a fresh complication of distresses; for her sympathies lingered not round her fireside. She hesitated not, even now; rest, and 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.'

5. The traveler drew near the board; but when he 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 mouth

ful to a stranger ?" "Ah!" said the poor widow, and the teardrops gushed into her eyes as she said it, "I have a boy, 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'. God, who sent manna from heaven, can provide for us as he 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."

6. 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'!"

7. It was her long-lost son, returned to her bosom from the Indies. He had chosen that disguise that he might the more completely surprise his family; and never was surprise more perfect, or followed by a sweeter cup of joy. That humble residence in the forest was exchanged 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.-New York Spectator.

LESSON III. THE FAMILY MEETING.

[The reading of this piece requires a slow delivery, with much pathetic tenderness.] We are all here'!

1.

2.

Father', mother', sister', brother,'

All who hold each other dear.

Each chair is fill'd': we're all at home':
To-night, let no cold stranger come':
It is not often' thus' around

Our old familiar hearth we're found':
Bless then the meeting and the spot';
For once', be every care forgot';
Let gentle Peace assert her power,
And kind Affection rule the hour';
We're all'-all' here,

We're not all here!

Some are away'-the dead' ones dear,
Who throng'd with us this ancient hearth,
And gave the hour to guiltless mirth.
Fate, with a stern relentless hand,
Look'd in and thinn'd our little band':

3.

4.

Some', like a night-flash, pass'd away',
And some' sank lingering day by day'
The quiet grave-yard-some' lie there
And cruel Ocean has his' share:

We're not all here.

We are all here!

Even they', the dead-though dead', so dear,
Fond Memory, to her duty true,

Brings back their faded forms to view.
How life-like through the mist of years,
Each well-remember'd face appears'!
We see them as in times long past,
From each to each kind looks are cast;
We hear their words', their smiles' behold,
They're round us', as they were of old'—
We are all here!

We are all here'!
Father', mother', sister', brother',

You that I love with love so dear'.
This may not long of us be said;
Soon must we join the gather'd dead,
And by the hearth we now sit round,
Some other circle will be found.
Oh! then, that wisdom may we know,
Which yields a life of peace below:
So, in the world to follow this,

May each repeat, in words of bliss,
We're all'-all'—here'!

CHARLES SPRAGUE.

LESSON IV.-TACT AND TALENT.

It also fur

[This Lesson furnishes fine examples of contrasted or antithetic clauses, for the reading of which see Rule VL, and also what is said on the same subject on page 27. nishes several fine examples of concluding series, etc. See page 15.]

1. TALENT' is something', but tact' is every' thing. Talent' is serious', sober', grave', and respectable': tact' is all that', and more too'. It is not a sixth sense', but it is the life of all the five'. It is the open eye', the quick ear', the judging taste', the keen smell', and the lively touch'; it is the interpreter of all riddles', the surmounter of all difficulties', the remover of all obstacles. It is useful in all places', and at all times'; it is useful in solitude', for it shows a man his way into the world; it is useful in society', for it shows him his way through the world.

2. Talent' is power', tact' is skill'; talent' is weight', tact is momentum'; talent' knows what to do, tact' knows how' to do it; talent' makes a man respectable', tact' will make

him respected'; talent' is wealth', tact' is ready money. For all the practical purposes of life', tact carries it against talent, ten to one. Take them to the theatre', and put them against each other on the stage', and talent' shall produce you a tragedy that will scarcely live long enough to be condemned', while tact' keeps the house in a roar, night after night, with its successful farces.. There is no want of dramatic talent', there is no want of dramatic tact'; but they are seldom together': so we have successful pieces which are not respectable', and respectable pieces which are not successful'.

3. Take them to the bar, and let them shake their learned curls at each other in legal rivalry; talent' sees its way clearly, but tact' is first at its journey's end. Talent' has many a compliment from the bench, but tact' touches fees from attorneys and clients. Talent' speaks learnedly and logically, tact' triumphantly. Talent' makes the world wonder that it gets on no faster, tact' excites astonishment that it gets on so fast. And the secret is, that it has no weight' to carry; it makes no false steps'; it hits the right nail on the head'; it loses no time'; it takes all hints'; and by keeping its eye on the weathercock', is ready to take advantage of every wind that blows'. Take them into the church. Talent' has always something worth hearing', tact' is sure of abundance of hearers; talent' may obtain a living, tact' will make one; talent' gets a good name, tact' a great one; talent' convinces', tact' converts'; talent' is an honor to the profession, tact' gains honor from the profession.

4. Take them to court. Talent' feels its weight', tact' finds its way'; talent' commands', tact' is obeyed'; talent' is honored with approbation', and tact' is blessed by preferment'. Place them in the senate. Talent' has the ear of the house', but tact' wins' its heart', and has' its votes'; talent' is fit for employment', but tact' is fitted for it. It has a knack of slipping into place with a sweet silence and glibness of movement, as a billiard ball insinuates itself into the pocket. It seems to know èvery thing', without learning any thing. It has served an invisible and extemporary apprenticeship'; it wants no drilling'; it never ranks in the awkward squad'; it has no left hand', no deaf ear', no blind side'. It puts on no looks of wondrous wisdom', it has no air of profundity', but plays with the details of place as dexterously as a well-taught hand flourishes over the keys of the piano-forte. It has all the air of commonplace,' and all the force and power of genius.-London Atlās.