nied;—they were noble men, or they would never have so manfully asserted their principles;-christian men, or they would never have voluntarily retired into exile to enjoy them. Shall we complain, then, that they were not more than men, noble, christian men, as they must have been in that age of the world, not to have guarded and maintained the rights they had so dearly purchased? Let us do justice to their memory, and when we hear of their cruelties, let us recount a few of their sufferings; when we hear of their persecutions, let us remember that they considered them only acts of self-defence ;—and when we are told that they erred in thus laying the foundation of this great empire, let us view it in all its length and breadth and glory, and give the lie to the unjust and undeserved aspersion. I LESSON LXV. THE CHILD OF EARTH. The following illustration of the hold which the endearments of earth have upon the human heart, was written by the HON. MRS. NORTON, of England, for whose country the description of the seasons is better suited than for ours, though the moral is equally applicable wherever man is found. Fainter her slow step falls from day to day, Death's hand is heavy on her darkening brow; Yet doth she fondly cling to earth, and say, "I am content to die-but, oh! not now!Not while the blossoms of the joyous spring Make the warm air such luxury to breatheNot while the birds such lays of gladness singNot while bright flowers around my footsteps wreathe. Spare me, great God, lift up my drooping brow am content to die-but, oh! not now!" The spring hath ripened into summer time; The season's viewless boundary is past; The glorious sun hath reached his burning prime; Oh! must this glimpse of beauty be thy last? "Let me not perish while o'er land and lea, With silent steps, the Lord of light moves on; Not while the murmur of the mountain-bee Greets my dull ear with music in its tone! Pale sickness dims my eyes and clouds my I am content to die-but, oh! not now!" brow Summer is gone; and autumn's soberer hues Tint the ripe fruits, and gild the waving corn;The huntsman swift the flying game pursues, Shouts the halloo! and winds his eager horn. "Spare me awhile, to wander forth and gaze Ôn the broad meadows and the quiet stream, To watch in silence while the evening rays Slant through the fading trees with ruddy gleam! Cooler the breezes play around my brow— I am content to die-but, oh! not now!" The bleak wind whistles; snow showers far and near And the roof rings with voices light and loud; The spring is come again-the joyful spring! The child of earth is numbered with the dead! The following Fable is an imitation of one in French, by BARBE. It is intended for quite a young pupil. "My dears," said a Hen to her children, one day, Of discretion." She said, and the young ones the more So once, when their mother was busy at home, He then flapped his wings and set up a crow, The moral addresses you, mothers, who fear Some danger afar, when no danger is near, And put into the heads of your children what brings The mischief you dread, on the poor little things. LESSON LXVII. THE FISHES' TOILET.-EDITOR. The play upon names in the following piece is never tolerated i serious poetry. The hint, of which this is an expansion, may be foun in one of MRS. SIGOURNEY's poems. The Dr. Smith appealed to the last line, is the author of an amusing description of the fishes Massachusetts. Some of the lines contain puns, which are "expres sions where a word has two meanings at the same time," as the wor scent, at the end of the thirteenth line, or, "expressions in which tw words are used that agree in sound, but differ in sense." Of this latte description are many conundrums, a species of low wit, which, like puns, must be very rarely used, if at all. The piece requires a pup somewhat advanced. 'Tis said, a gallant bark that bore The cast-off fashions of the day And all the stock of toilet ware, To mend the coarse, or deck the fair, Rushed to the spot to get her share. The Frog-fish thrust her flippers wet The Flounder and her cousin Plaice A Cologne bottle pleased the Smelt; |