should I have that quantity of money the world is so liberal to bestow on me? Where could I possibly, without I had stole it, acquire such a treasure?" 10. "Why truly," said Adams, "I have been always of your opinion; I have wondered, as well as yourself, with what confidence they could report such things of you, which have to me appeared as mere impossibilities; for you know, sir, and I have often heard you say it, that your wealth is of your own acquisition; and can it be credible that in your short time you should have amassed such a heap of treasure as these people will have you are worth? Indeed, had you inherited an estate like Sir Thomas Booby, which had descended in your family through many generations, they might have had a color for their assertions." 11. "Why, what do they say I am worth?" cries Peter, with a malicious sneer. "Sir," answered Adams, "I have heard some aver you are not worth less than twenty thousand pounds." At which Peter frowned. "Nay, sir," said Adams, "you ask me only the opinion of others; for my own part, I have always denied it, nor did I ever believe you could possibly be worth half that sum." 66 12. However, Mr. Adams," said he, squeezing him by the hand, "I would not sell them all I am worth for double that sum; and as to what you believe, or they believe, I care not a fig. I am not poor, because you think me so, nor because you attempt to undervalue me in the country. I know the envy of mankind very well; but I thank heaven I am above them. It is true, my wealth is of my own acquisition. I have not an estate like Sir Thomas Booby, that hath descended in my family through many generations; but I know heirs of such estates, who are forced to travel about the country, like some people in torn cassocks,' and might be glad to accept of a pitiful curacy, for what I know; yes, sir, as shabby fellows as yourself, whom no man of my figure, without that vice of good-nature about him, would suffer to ride in a chariot with him.” 'Cås' sock, a kind of long frock-coat worn by a priest; close garment or gown.- Cu' ra cy, the office of a curate, who performs the duties in the place of the vicar, parson, or incumbent 13. “Sir," said Adams, "I value not your chariot of a rush; and if I had known you had intended to affront me, I would have walked to the world's end on foot, ere I would have accepted a place in it. However, sir, I will soon rid you of that inconvenience!" And so saying, he opened the chariot door, without calling to the coachman, and leaped out into the highway, forgetting to take his hat along with him; which, however, Mr. Pounce threw after him with great violence. HENRY FIELDING. HENRY FIELDING was born at Sharpham, Somersetshire, England, April 22, 1707. He was educated at Eaton, and afterward studied law at Leyden. Ho was the author of "Joseph Andrews," "A Journey from this World to the Next," ," "Jonathan Wild," "Tom Jones," and "Amelia." He received £600 for the copyright of "Tom Jones," and such was its saccess, that Miller, the publisher, presented £100 more to the author. For "Amelia" he received £1000. In 1749 Fielding was appointed one of the justices of Westminster and Middlesex, and was a zealous and active magistrate. He was a kind-hearted man; but improvident, and in early life dissipated. He ranks as one of the first among English novelists. His style is marked for light humor, lively description, and keen, yet sportive satire. Endowed with little of the poetical or imaginative faculty, his study lay in real life and every-day scenes, which he depicted with a truth and freshness, a buoyancy and vigor, and such an exuberance of practical knowledge, easy raillery, and lively fancy, that in his own department he Kands unrivaled. He died at Lisbon, on the 8th of October, 1754. A 11. NOBLE REVENGE. YOUNG officer (in what army no matter) had so far forgot ten himself, in a moment of irritation, as to strike a private soldier, full of personal dignity (as sometimes happens in all ranks), and distinguished for his courage. The inex'orable' laws of military discipline forbade to the injured soldier any practical. redress he could look for no retaliation by acts. Words only were at his command, and, in a tumult of indignation, as he turned away, the soldier said to his officer that he would "make him repent it." This, wearing the shape of a menace, naturally rekindled the officer's anger, and intercepted any disposition which might be rising within him toward a sentiment of remorse; and thus the irritation between the two young men grew hotter than before. 'In ex'o ra ble, immovable; that can not be made to bend. 2. Some weeks after this a partial action took place with the enemy. Suppose yourself a spectator, and looking down into a valley occupied by the two armies. They are facing each other, you see, in martial array. But it is no more than a skirmish which is going on; in the course of which, however, an occasion suddenly arises for a desperate service. A redoubt, which has fallen into the enemy's hands, must be recaptured at any price, and under circumstances of all but hopeless difficulty. 3. A strong party has volunteered for the service; there is a cry for somebody to head them; you see a soldier step out from the ranks to assume this dangerous leadership; the party moves rapidly forward; in a few minutes it is swallowed up from your eyes in clouds of smoke; for one half hour, from behind these clouds you receive hieroglyphic' reports of bloody strife-fierce repeating signals, flashes from the guns, rolling musketry, and exulting hurrahs advancing or receding, slackening or redoubling. 4. At length all is over; the redoubt has been recovered; that which was lost is found again; the jewel which had been made captive is ransomed with blood. Crimsoned with glorious göre, the wreck of the conquering party is relieved, and at liberty to return. From the river you see it ascending. The plume-crested officer in command rushes forward, with his left hand raising his hat in homage to the blackened fragments of what once was a flag, whilst with his right hand he seizes that of the leader, though no more than a private from the ranks. That perplexes you not; mystery you see none in that. For distinctions of order perish, ranks are confounded; "high and low" are words without a meaning, and to wreck goes every notion or feeling that divides the noble from the noble, or the brave man from the brave. 5. But wherefore' is it that now, when suddenly they wheel into mutual recognition, suddenly they pause? This soldier, this officer-who are they? O reader! once before they had stood face to face-the soldier that was struck, the officer that struck him. Once again they are meeting; and the gaze of - Hålf. Hi e ro glyph' ic, expressive of meaning by characters, pictures, or figures.—3 None (nůn).—'Wherefore (whår' for).—3 Recognition (rek og nish' un), acknowledgment; knowledge avowed or confessed. Again (a gån'). armies is upon them. If for a moment a doubt divides them, in a moment the doubt has perished. One glance exchanged between them publishes the forgiveness that is sealed forever. 6. As one who recovers a brother whom he has accounted dead, the officer sprang forward, threw his arms around the neck of the soldier, and kissed him, as if he were some martyr glorified by that shadow of death from which he was returning; whilst, on his part, the soldier, stepping back, and carrying his open hand through the beautiful motions of the military salute to a superior, makes this immortal answer-that answer which shut up forever the memory of the indignity offered to him, even while for the last time alluding to it: "Sir,” he said, “I told you before, that I would make you repent it." THOMAS DE QUINCEY. THOMAS DE QUINCEY was born at Manchester, England, on the 15th of August, 1785. He passed his childhood in rural retirement. He was matriculated at Oxford, at Christmas, 1803, being then in his nineteenth year, where he remained till 1808. He resided for twenty years, between 1808 and 1829, among the lakes and mountains of Westmoreland, and occupied Wordsworth's cottage seven years of the time. De Quincey's first work, "Confessions of an English Opium-Eater," which appeared in the London Magazine, in 1821, and was printed in book form in 1822, was immediately and immensely popular. It passed through several editions in Europe and this country, and at once placed its author in the front rank of vivid and powerful writers. After this period, his numerous contributions to the periodical press were paid for at a large price. He has written upon a wider and more diversified range of subjects than any other author of his time. He is noted for his original genius, stores of learning, depth of insight, and subtlety of thought. His matter is always good. He has acquired a style of the rarest brilliancy and richness, but his force is often diminished by his capricious use of words, and the weary length of his digres sions. 1. 12. LIFE IN THE WEST. O! brothers-come hither and list to my story— Master' am I, boys, of all that I see. Where once frown'd a forest a garden is smiling- 1 Måster.—1 Where (whår).- 'There (thår).—• Curls (kêrlz). The children who cluster like grapes at the door. 2. Talk not of the town, boys-give me the broad prairie, Like those of the clouds, or the deep-rolling sea. 4 And die, boys, in peace and good-will to mankind. GEORGE P. MORRIS. GEORGE P. MORRIS, the popular song-writer, was born at Philadelphia, in 1801. He commenced his literary career by contributions to the journals at the early age of fifteen. In 1823, with Mr. Woodworth, he established the "New York Mirror," a weekly miscellany, which was conducted with much taste and ability for nearly nineteen years. In conjunction with Mr. Willis, he reëstablished "The Mirror" in 1843, and he is now associated with that popular author in conducting "The Home Journal." In 1827, his play, in five acts, entitled "Brier Cliff, a tale of the American Revolution," was brought out by Mr. Wallack, and acted forty nights successively. So great was its popularity, that it was played at four theaters in New York on the same evening, to full houses, and yielded its author a profit of three thousand five hundred dollars. A complete collection of his "Poetical Works" appeared in 1852. Several of Morris's songs are nearly faultless. Their style is chaste, and their tone simple, entire, and glowing. Mr. N. P. Willis, the associate of General Morris for more than twenty years, in one of his letters gives the following estimate of his literary ability: "MORRIS is the best known poet of the country, by acclamation, not by criti 'Prairie (pra' rf).—a Turmoil (tër' måîl). Câre.- Want. |