5 10 15 20 25 What does the poor man's son inherit ?- To make the outcast bless his door: A king might wish to hold in fee. Oh! rich man's son, there is a toil But only whitens, soft, white hands: Worth being rich to hold in fee. Oh! poor man's son, scorn not thy state;- Worth being poor to hold in fee. Both heirs to some six feet of sod, Are equal in the earth at last; Both children of the same dear God; By record of a well-filled past: Well worth a life to hold in fee. LESSON CL.-NEW ENGLAND'S DEAD.-ISAAC m'lellan, Jr. "I shall enter on no encomium upon Massachusetts; she needs none. There she is; behold her, and judge for yourselves.-There is her history. The world knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. There is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker Hill; and there they will remain forever. The bones of her sons, falling in the great struggle for independence, now lie mingled with the soil of every state, from New England to Georgia; and there they will remain forever."-Webster's Speech. New England's DEAD! New England's dead! On every field of strife made red By bloody victory. 5 10 15 20 25 30 35 Each valley, where the battle poured Beheld the brave New England sword With slaughter deeply dyed. Their bones are on the northern hill, And on the southern plain, By brook and river, lake and rill, The land is holy where they fought, For by their blood that land was bought, Then glory to that valiant band, The honored saviors of the land! Oh! few and weak their numbers were,— A handful of brave men; But to their God they gave their And rushed to battle then. prayer, The God of battles heard their cry, They left the ploughshare in the mould, To right those wrongs, come weal, come woe, And where are ye, O fearless men? I call:-the hills reply again That ye have passed away; That on old Bunker's lonely height, The bugle's wild and warlike blast An 40 The starry flag, 'neath which they fought, From their old graves shall rouse them not, LESSON CLI.—THE GRAVES OF THE PATRIOTS.-J. G. PERCIVAL. Here rest the great and good,-here they repose They take their sleep together, while the year 10 No statue nor inscription to reveal Their greatness. It is round them; and the joy That smiles on all they fought for, and the wealth 15 That clothes the land they rescued,-these, though mute As feeling ever is when deepest, these Are monuments more lasting, than the fanes Touch not the ancient elms, that bend their shade To the astonished gaze of awe-struck kings, And the one universal Lord. They need In the deep sabbath of a heart too full For words or tears,-here let us strew the sod LESSON CLII.-TRUTH.-H. W. LONGFELLOW. O holy and eternal Truth! Thou art Of uncreated being! Who can find, 5 By diligent searching,-who can find out thee, The Incomprehensible,-the Deity! 10 The human mind is a reflection caught The soul of man, though sighing after thee, 20 The reach of human power, though not of humar />"; Vainly Philosophy may strive to teach The secret of thy being. Its faint ray Misguides our steps. Beyond the utmost reach Of truth is shining on the longing eye, Distant, unchanged, changeless,-pure and high! And yet thou hast not left thyself without A revelation. All we feel and see 5 Within us and around, forbids to doubt, Yet speaks so darkly and mysteriously Of what we are and shall be evermore, We doubt, and yet believe, and tremble and adore! LESSON CLIII.-THE FIRST SETTLERS IN NEW HAMPSHIRE.- Two hundred years ago, the place on which we stand was an uncultivated forest. The rough and vigorous soil was still covered with the stately trees, which had been, for ages, intermingling their branches and deepening the 5 shade. The river, which now bears, on its bright and pure waters, the treasures of distant climates, and whose rapid current is stemmed and vexed by the arts and enterprise of man, then only rippled against the rocks, and reflected back the wild and grotesque thickets which over10 hung its banks. The mountain, which now swells on our left, and raises its verdant side, "shade above shade," was then almost concealed by the lofty growth which covered the intervening plains. Behind us, a deep morass, extending across to the northern creek, almost enclosed the little 15" Bank," which is now the seat of so much life and industry. It was then a wild and tangled thicket, interspersed with venerable trees and moss-grown rocks, and presenting, here and there, a sunny space, covered with the blossoms and early fruit of the little plant that gave it its name. 20 This "Bank," so wild and rude, two hundred years ago, was first impressed with the step of civilized man. The influence of local association is strong and universal. There is no one who has not felt it; and if it were possible, it would be useless to withdraw the mind from its 25 effects. We owe many of our deepest emotions, our highest and most ennobling feelings, to the suggestions of external nature. The place which has been distinguished by the residence of one whom we love and admire, kindles in our minds a thousand conceptions, which we can scarcely *Portsmouth. |