Imatges de pàgina
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It is as if the spirit land

Descended nearer earth's dark shore,
And friends unseen rejoined the band
Of those so fondly loved before.

It is as if angelic song

Of praise unheard but felt were sung,
And mortal hearts were bid prolong
The tuneful joy heaven's hosts among.

Hail, silent melody divine,

So brightly seen! No voice or sound
Hath harmony compared with thine
Throughout the universe around.

Thou moon, ye stars, and beaming sky,
Bathing with mildest radiance earth,

May answering influence purify

The thoughts to which your light gives birth!

EXERCISE CLI.

WATER IS BEST.- The Presbyterian.

This was the sentiment of the prince of ancient heathen poets, Pindar, the contemporary of Xerxes, the renowned Persian king. So many of the poets of that, and later date, have praised the juice of the grape, and been fascinated by it, to the prejudice of sobriety, that we were taken with a feeling of great surprise to find one sober harper thus tuning his strings. Anacreon was greatly enamored of the bewitching draught, and pleaded most ingeniously for its use, using all sorts of sophistical arguments. We like cold water poets, for they have more sense and sentiment.

Water is best' for healthy people, for sound people, for rich and poor people, old or young people, - even if it be a little brackish, a little soft, a little hard,—all from sandstone, or slate, or limestone, or just distilled from the clouds. It is best for scholars, best for teachers, best for writers, best

for day-laborers, for harvest-hands, for travellers, in all countries, and all climates, and all circumstances. It costs nothing is generally clean, sweet, and cool. It is cleansing, refreshing, medicinal, and even nourishing, as it dissolves our food and assists digestion. It is harmless, compared with all other drinks, always at hand, when others are difficult to be got, — injurious to no man's mind or body, soul, reputation, family, or circumstances. It keeps the head cool, the temper regular, the countenance fair, the hand steady, the tongue decent, and the limbs strong and sound. It needs no awkward apologies for using it, no sneaking to the sideboard or bar-room, no stinted measure in a gill, glass, or vial, no fear of bad company. It is followed in its use with no qualms of conscience, no giddiness of the head, no redness of the eyes, no tottering of the gait. It is the best for man's comfort, best for his purse, best for his credit, and his prospects, and even best to his taste, if he drinks only when he is thirsty.

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In warm weather, it is best to cool him, in cold weather. it is far the best to prevent the effects of frosts upon his frame. It is best for his morning draught, and for his noon and night draught. It is good for colds, to check hoarseness, and, externally applied, it is good as a preventive of frost and its action upon the frame. It is good for man and beast, and the only universal drink, unless it be milk. But that is nourishment as well as drink, and not always to be had, nor always acceptable. What is so palatable, on the other hand, as a drink of cold water to a sick man, after some privation of it has been endured. There is nothing so good.

Wine can never do the office of cold water; for it is too acid, somewhat astringent, too exciting, and too luscious. The poet Pindar against the Bacchanalian fraternity! Let Anacreon, let Burns, let Moore, or Byron, or any other then say to the contrary, on the whole, and for all men, ‘Water IS BEST.'

RULE FOR THE READING OF MAXIMS AND MOTTOES.

Phrases and sentences, in the form of MAXIMS or MOTTOES, require a DOUBLE FORCE on every emphatic word, and A PECU LIARLY DISTINCT, IMPRESSIVE ENUNCIATION, with pauses longer than usual. The same remark applies to the manner of reading TITLES, and SUBJECTS OF PIECES.

EXERCISE CLII.

PHILIP, OF MOUNT HOPE.

Away! away! I will not hear

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Of aught but death or vengeance now; By the eternal skies, I swear

My knee shall never learn to bow! I will not hear a word of peace,

Or grasp in friendly clasp a hand, Linked to the pale-browed stranger race; That work the ruin of our land.

Before their coming we had ranged
Our forests and our uplands free:
Still let us keep unsold, unchanged,
The heritage of liberty.

As free as roll the chainless streams,
Still let us roam our ancient woods;
As free as break the morning beams,
That light our mountain solitudes.

Touch not the hand they stretch to you;
The falsely proffered cup put by;
Will you believe a coward true?

Or taste the poison draught to die?
Their friendship is a lurking snare,
Their honor but an idle breath;

Their smile-the smile that traitors wear; Their love is hate, their life is death.

Plains which your infant feet have roved, Broad streams you skimmed in light canoe, Green woods and glens your fathers loved,· Whom smile they for, if not for you?

And could your fathers' spirits look

From lands where deathless verdure waves,

Nor curse the craven hearts that brook

To barter for a nation's graves!

Then raise once more the warrior song,
That tells despair and death are nigh:
Let the loud summons peal along,
Rending the arches of the sky.
And till your last white foe shall kneel,
And in his coward pangs expire, –
Sleep-but to dream of brand and steel;
Wake-but to deal in blood and fire!

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Let it still be your object to uphold the well approved character of our ancient metropolis. Never let the mere acquisition of wealth be an exclusive pursuit. Consider it of tenfold importance to manifest, in all the transactions of life, that quick sense of honor 'which feels a stain like a wound, and that integrity which the mines of Peru could not bend from the path of principle. Let wealth be regarded as the instrument of doing as well as of enjoying good. In a republican government, the mercantile class, in the natural course of things, is the only one whose members, generally speaking, can amass fortune; let it be written on your hearts, in the morning of life, that wealth is ennobled only in its uses.

Form, from the first, a large conception of the character of the liberal and upright merchant. Regard him as one to whom the country looks to sustain her honor in the hour of trial; to uphold her public establishments, to endow her charities, to be the father of her orphans: as one whom no success will make ashamed of his vocation; who will adorn his days of prosperity with moderation and temper, and hold fast his integrity, though fortunes turn to ashes in his grasp.

Improve the opportunities for cultivating your minds which this institution presents. The keys of knowledge are in your

hands; the portals of her temple are open to you. On the shelves of her libraries there are stores of information, which, besides contributing to your success in your calling, will give grace to good fortune, and comfort and resource in disaster.

Above all, while you pursue with spirit the business of your vocation, and follow the paths of enterprise to the ends of the earth, let a well instructed conscience be the companion of your way. Her guidance will safely lead you, when calculation is bewildered, and prudence is at fault.

Though your hope in all else be blasted, fail not, my young friends, to acquire the pearl of great price, that wisdom whose merchandize is better than the merchandize of silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. Let this be the object of your life; and while the guilty glories of war are deprecated by mankind, and the weary honors of successful ambition weigh like lead on the wearer, you will enjoy, in the esteem and gratitude of the community, and the peace of your own minds, the happy portion of the Liberal and Upright Merchant.

EXERCISE CLIV.

THE DEAD MARINER. G. D. Prentice.

Sleep on, - sleep on,- above thy corse
The winds their Sabbath keep; -

The wave is round thee,

- and thy breast

Heaves with the heaving deep;

O'er thee, mild eve her beauty flings,

And there the white gull lifts her wings;

And the blue halcyon loves to lave
Her plumage in the holy wave.

Sleep on:-no willow o'er thee bends

With melancholy air;

No violet springs, nor dewy rose

Its soul of love lays bare;

But there the sea-flower, bright and young,
Is sweetly o'er thy slumbers flung;
And, like a weeping mourner fair,
The pale flag hangs its tresses there.

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