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Life were a burden to me. Think not, either,
The justness of thy sentence I would question,
But one request now trembles on my tongue—
One wish still clinging round the heart, which soon
Not even that shall torture-will it, then,
Thinkest thou, thy slumbers render quieter,
Thy waking thoughts more pleasing, to reflect,
That when thy voice had doomed a brother's death,
The last request which e'er was his to utter

Thy harshness made him carry to the grave?

Saladin. Speak, then; but ask thyself if thou hast reason To look for much indulgence here.

Malek Adhel. I have not;

Yet will I ask for it. We part forever;

This is our last farewell; the king is satisfied;
The judge has spoke the irrevocable sentence.

None sees, none hears, save that Omniscient Power,
Which, trust me, will not frown to look upon
Two brothers part like such. When, in the face
Of forces once my own, I'm led to death,
Then be thine eye unmoistened; let thy voice
Then speak my doom untrembling; then,
Unmoved, behold this stiff and blackened corse.
But now I ask-nay, turn not, Saladin-

I ask one single pressure of thy hand;

From that stern eye one solitary tear

Oh, torturing recollection!one kind word

From the loved tongue which once breathed naught but kindness.

Still silent? Brother! friend beloved companion

Of all my youthful sports!—are they forgotten?

Strike me with deafness, make me blind, O Heaven!

Let me not see this unforgiving man

Smile at my agonies! nor hear that voice

Pronounce my, doom, which would not say one word,
One little word, whose cherished memory
Would soothe the struggles of departing life!
Yet, yet thou wilt! Oh, turn thee, Saladin !

Look on my face-thou canst not spurn me then;
Look on the once-loved face) of Malek Adhel

For the last time, and call him

Saladin. [Seizing his hand.] Brother! brother!

Malek Adhel. [Breaking away.] Now call thy followers; Death has not now

A single pang in store.

Proceed! I'm ready.

Saladin. Oh, art thou ready to forgive, my brother?

To pardon him who found one single error,

One little failing, 'mid a splendid throng

Of glorious qualities

Malek Adhel. Oh, stay thee, Saladin !

I did not ask for life. I only wished
To carry thy, forgiveness to the grave.
No, emperor, the loss of Cæsarea

Cries loudly for the blood of Malek Adhel.
Thy soldiers, too, demand that he who lost

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What cost them many a weary hour to gain,
Should expiate his offenses with his life.
Lo! even now they crowd to view my death,
Thy just impartiality. I go!

Pleased by my fate to add one other leaf

To thy proud wreath of glory.

[Going.]

Saladin. Thou shalt not. [Enter Attendant.]

Attendant. My lord, the troops assembled by your order Tumultuous throng the courts. The prince's death

Not one of them but vows he will not suffer.

The mutes have fled; the very guards rebel.

Nor think I, in this city's spacious round,

Can e'er be found a hand to do the office.

Malek Adhel. Oh faithful friends! [To Attendant.] Thine shall. Attendant. Mine? Never!

The other first shall lop it from the body.

Saladin. They teach the emperor his duty well.

Tell them he thanks them for it. Tell them, too,
That ere their opposition reached our ears,
Saladin had forgiven Malek Adhel.

Attendant. Oh joyful news!

I haste to gladden many a gallant heart,
And dry the tear on many a hardy cheek,
Unused to such a visitor. [Exit.]

Saladin. These men, the meanest in society,
The outcasts of the earth-by war, by nature,
Hardened, and rendered callous-these who claim
No kindred with thee-who have never heard
The accents of affection from thy lips-
Oh, these can cast aside their vowed allegiance,
Throw off their long obedience, risk their lives,
To save thee from destruction. While I,
I, who can not, in all my memory,

Call back one danger which thou hast not shared,
One day of grief, one night of revelry,

Which thy resistless kindness hath not soothed,

Or thy gay smile and converse rendered sweeter

I, who have thrice in the ensanguined field,

When death seemed certain, only uttered-"Brother!"
And seen that form, like lightning, rush between

Saladin and his foes, and that brave breast

Dauntless exposed to many a furious blow
Intended for my own-I could forget

That 'twas to thee I owed the very breath

Which sentenced thee to perish! Oh, 'tis shameful!
Thou canst not pardon me!

Malek Adhel. By these tears I can!
Oh brother! from this very hour a new,
A glorious life commences!

I am all thine!

Again the day of gladness or of anguish

(Shall Match hel share) and oft again May this sword fence thee in the bloody field. Henceforth, Saladin,

My heart, my soul, my word, are thine forever!-New Monthly Mag.

LESSON III.—OUR COUNTRY AND OUR HOME.

THERE is a land, of every land the pride;
Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside;
Where brighter suns dispense serener light,
And milder moons emparadise the night;
A land of beauty, virtue, valor, truth,
Time-tutored age, and love-exalted youth.
The wandering mariner, whose eye explores
The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores,
Views not a realm so beautiful and fair,
Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air;
In every clime, the magnet of his soul,
Touched by remembrance, trembles to that pole;
For in this land of Heaven's peculiar grace,
The heritage of Nature's noblest race,
There is a spot of earth supremely bless'd,
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest,
Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside
His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride,
While in his softened looks benignly blend
The sire, the son, the husband, father, friend.
Here woman reigns; the mother, daughter, wife,
Strew with fresh flowers the narrow way of life;
In the clear heaven of her delightful eye,
An angel-guard of loves and graces lie;
Around her knees domestic duties meet,
And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet.

Where shall that land-that spot of earth be found'?
Art thou a man' ?-a patriot' ?-look around;
Oh! thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam,
That land thy country, and that spot thy home.

JAMES MONTGOMERY.

LESSON IV. THE GIPSY FORTUNE-TELLER.

1. "HARK, my maiden, and I'll tell you,
By the power of my art,

All the things that e'er befell you,

And the secret of your heart.

2. "How that you love some one don't you'?
Love him better than you say;

Won't you hear, my maiden, won't you'?
What's to be your wedding-day' ?"

3. "Ah, you cheat, with words of honey,

You tell stories, that you know!
Where's the husband for my money
That I gave you long ago'?

4. "Neither silver, gold, nor copper
Shall you get this time from me;
Where's the husband, tall and proper,
That you told me I should see'?"
5. "Coming still, my maiden, coming,
With two eyes as black as sloes;
Marching soldierly, and humming
Gallant love-songs as he goes."
6. "Get along, you stupid gipsy!

I won't have your barrack-beau;
Strutting up to me half tipsy,

Saucy with his chin up-so!"
7. "Come, I'll tell you the first letter
Of your handsome sailor's name-'
"I know every one, that's better,
Thank you, gipsy, all the same."

8. "Ha! my maiden, runs your text so'?
Now I see the die is cast;

And the day is-Monday next." "No",
Gipsy', it was-Monday last!"

LESSON V.-SUCCESS ALONE SEEN.

FEW know of life's beginnings-men behold
The goal achieved-the warrior, when his sword
Flashes red triumph in the noonday sun;
The poet, when his lyre hangs on the palm;

The statesman, when the crowd proclaim his voice,
And mould opinion on his gifted tongue :

They count not life's first steps, and never think
Upon the many miserable hours

When hope deferred was sickness to the heart.

They reckon not the battle and the march,
The long privations of a wasted youth;
They never see the banner till unfurl'd.
What are to them the solitary nights
Pass'd pale and anxious by the sickly lamp,
Till the young poet wins the world at last
To listen to the music long his own?
The crowd attend the statesman's fiery mind
That makes their destiny; but they do not trace
Its struggle, or its long expectancy.

Hard are life's early steps; and, but that youth
Is buoyant, confident, and strong in hope,
Men would behold its threshold, and despair.

LETITIA E. MACLEAN (LANDON).

PART VIII.

FIRST DIVISION OF PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY.

[This subject is continued in the Sixth Reader.]

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1. GEOGRAPHY is a description of the earth. The numerous subjects embraced in a complete description of our planet are usually arranged under the three great divisions, Mathematical, Physical, and Political Geography.

Mathematical Geography has for its object the determination of the form and dimensions of the earth, its relations with the celestial bodies, the relative positions of places on its surface, and the representation of the whole or a part of the surface on maps or globes..

2. Physical Geography is a description of the principal features of the earth's surface, as consisting of land and water, the extent, position, and form of continents and islands, the elevation and direction of mountain ranges, the phenomena of volcanoes and earthquakes, the conformation of plains and valleys, and the soil, climate, and productions of different regions. The currents of the ocean and of the atmosphere, with their attendant phenomena, are also embraced in the de partment of Physical Geography.

3. Political Geography considers the earth as the abode of man, and describes the various nations in their local relations. This division of the science is what is usually studied in schools as Geography.

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