He nears he reaches-they are side by side;
Now one-now th' other-by a length the victor.
The courses all are past-the wheels erect-
All safe-when, as the hurrying coursers round
The fatal pillar dashed, the wretched boy
Slackened the left rein. On the column's edge
Crashed the frail axle-headlong from the car,
Caught and all mesh'd within the reins, he fell;
And, masterless, the mad steeds raged along!
4. Loud from that mighty multitude arose

A shriek-a shout! But yesterday such deeds-
To-day such doom! Now whirled upon the earth;
Now his limbs dashed aloft, they dragged him—those
Wild horses-till, all gory, from the wheels
Released and no man, not his nearest friends,
Could in that mangled corpse have traced Orestes.
They laid the body on the funeral pyre,

And while we speak, the Phocian strangers bear,
In a small, brazen, melancholy urn,

That handful of cold ashes to which all
The grandeur of the beautiful hath shrunk.
Within they bore him-in his father's land
To find that heritage-a tomb.

AYE (pronounced a), always; ever.

[Used in this sense only in poetry.]

LESSON XI.-THE LATTER DAYS OF GRECIAN HISTORY.

1. ABOUT fifty years after the battle of Plata'a the Grecians became involved in a series of domestic contests, called the "Peloponnesian Wars," which continued, with occasional intervals of peace, until Philip, king of Macedon, by the successful battle of Charone'a, broke up the feeble Grecian confederacy, and soon after succeeded in inducing the conquered states to elect him commander-in-chief of all the Grecian forces. It was while Philip was plotting against the liberties of Greece that his intrigues called forth from the Athenian Demosthenes, the greatest of Grecian orators, those famous "Philippics" which have immortalized both the orator and the object of his invectives.

2. Alexander the Great, the son and successor of Philip, carried out the plans of his father by a successful invasion of the Persian dominions; but on his death, in the thirty-third year of his age (B.C. 324), the vast empire which he had so suddenly built up was as suddenly broken in pieces, and the Grecian states again became a prey to civil dissensions, which were terminated only by the subjugation of all Greece to the dominion of the Romans, in the year 146 before the Christian

era. This point is the proper termination of Grecian history; for, 66 as rivers flow into the sea, so does the history of all the nations known to have existed previously in the regions round the Mediterranean, terminate in the history of Rome."

3. With the loss of her liberties the glory of Greece passed away. Her population had been gradually diminishing since the period of the Persian wars; and from the epoch of the Roman conquest the spirit of the nation sunk into despondency, and the energies of the people gradually wasted, until, at the time of the Christian era, Greece existed only in the remembrance of the past. Then, many of her cities were desolate, or had sunk to insignificant villages, while Athens alone maintained her renown for philosophy and the arts, and became the instructor of her conquerors; large tracts of land, once devoted to tillage, were either barren, or had been converted into pastures for sheep and vast herds of cattle; while the rapacity of Roman governors had inflicted upon the sparse population impoverishment and ruin.

LESSON XII.-EARLY ROMAN HISTORY.

1. THE early history of Rome, as recorded by Livy and other early writers, from the period of the supposed founding of the city by Romulus, about the year 753 B.C., down to the banishment of the Tarquins and the abolition of royalty, 510 B.C.—and even perhaps a century or two later—is of very doubtful authenticity, and was probably compiled from legendary poems that had been transmitted from generation to generation, and often rehearsed, to the sound of music, at the banquets of the great.

2. The historian Macaulay has aimed to reconstruct some of these poetic legends, which he has given to the world under the title of "Lays of Ancient Rome," and which are supposed to have been recited by ancient minstrels who were in no wise above the passions and prejudices of their age and country. It is stated by all the Latin historians that, a few years after the expulsion of the Tarquins for their despotism and crimes, the neighboring Etruscans, to which nation they belonged, endeavored to restore the tyrants to power, and came against Rome with an overwhelming force. The Romans, repulsed at first, fled across a wooden bridge over the Tiber, when the Roman consul ordered the bridge to be destroyed, to prevent the enemy from entering the city. The

continuation of the legend is supposed to have been narrated by one of the Roman minstrels, as given in the following lesson, at a period one hundred years later than the events there recorded.

LESSON XIII.-THE STORY OF HORATIUS.

1. BUT the consul's brow was sad,
And the consul's speech was low,
And darkly looked he at the wall,
And darkly at the foe.
"Their van will be upon us

Before the bridge goes down;
And if they once may win the bridge,
What hope to save the town?"

2. Then out spoke brave Horatius,
The captain of the gate:

"To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds
For the ashes of his fathers

And the temples of his gods?

3. "Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul,
With all the speed ye may;
I, with two more to help me,
Will hold the foe in play.
In yon strait path a thousand
May well be stopped by three.

Now, who will stand on either hand,

And keep the bridge with me?"

Two brave Romans, Spurius Lartius and Herminius, responded to the call of their comrade; and the three, with arms in hand, sprang forward to defend the passage, while others hastened to cut away the props that supported the bridge.

4. Meanwhile the Tuscan army,
Right glorious to behold,

Came flashing back the noonday light,
Rank behind rank, like surges bright
Of a broad sea of gold.

Four hundred trumpets sounded

A peal of warlike glee,

As that great host, with measured tread,
And spears advanced, and ensigns spread,
Rolled slowly toward the bridge's head,
Where stood the dauntless three.

5. The three stood calm and silent,
And looked upon the foes,
And a great shout of laughter
From all the vanguard rose:

And forth three chiefs came spurring
Before that mighty mass;

To earth they sprang, their swords they drew,
And lifted high their shields, and flew

To win the narrow pass.

But the scorn and laughter of the Etruscans were soon changed to wrath and curses, for their chiefs were quickly laid low in the dust at the feet of the "dauntless three."

6.

But now no sound of laughter

Was heard among the foes.

A wild and wrathful clamor

From all the vanguard rose.
Six spears' length from the entrance
Halted that mighty mass,

And for a space no man came forth
To win the narrow pass.

7. But hark! the cry is Astur:
And lo! the ranks divide,

And the great Lord of Luna

Comes with his stately stride.

Upon his ample shoulders

Clangs loud the fourfold shield,

And in his hand he shakes the brand

Which none but he can wield.

The proud Astur advances with a smile of contempt for the three Romans, and turns a look of scorn upon the flinching Tuscans.

8. Then, whirling up his broadsword

With both hands to the height,

He rushed against Horatius,

And smote with all his might.

With shield and blade Horatius

Right deftly turned the blow.

The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh;

It missed his helm, but gashed his thigh:

The Tuscans raised a joyful cry

To see the red blood flow.

9. He reeled, and on Herminius

He leaned one breathing-space;

Then, like a wild-cat mad with wounds,
Sprang right at Astur's face.

Through teeth, and skull, and helmet,
So fierce a thrust he sped,

The good sword stood a handbreadth out
Behind the Tuscan's head.

10. And the great Lord of Luna
Fell at that deadly stroke,
As falls on Mount Alvernus
A thunder-smitten oak.
Far o'er the crashing forest
The giant arms lie spread;

And the pale augurs, muttering low,

Gaze on the blasted head.

In the mean time the axes had been busily plied; and while the bridge was tottering to its fall, Lartius and Herminius regained the opposite bank in safety. Horatius remained facing the foe until the last timber had fallen, when, weighed down with armor as he was, he "plunged headlong in the tide." 11. No sound of joy or sorrow

Was heard from either bank;

But friends and foes, in dumb surprise,
With parted lips and straining eyes,
Stood gazing where he sank:
And when beneath the surges
They saw his crest appear,

All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry,
And even the ranks of Tuscany
Could scarce forbear to cheer.

12. But fiercely ran the current,

Swollen high by months of rain:
And fast his blood was flowing;
And he was sore in pain,
And heavy with his armor,
And spent with changing blows:
And oft they thought him sinking,
But still again he rose.

13. "Curse on him!" quoth false Sextus,
"Will not the villain drown?

But for this stay, ere close of day

We should have sacked the town!"
"Heaven help him!" quoth Lars Porsenna,
"And bring him safe to shore;
For such a gallant feat of arms
Was never seen before."

14. And now he feels the bottom;
Now on dry earth he stands;
Now round him throng the fathers,
To press his gory hands;

And now with shouts and clapping,
And noise of weeping loud,

He enters through the river-gate,

Borne by the joyous crowd.

Then follows an account of the rewards which a grateful people bestowed upon the hero. The minstrel thus concludes the legend: