And his own children tall and beautiful, Which in one moment, like the blast of doom, He therefore turning softly like a thief, And there he would have knelt, but that his knees Were feeble, so that falling prone he dug His fingers into the wet earth, and pray'd. And the third night after this, While Enoch slumber'd motionless and pale, He woke, he rose, he spread his arms abroad, I am saved;" and so fell back and spoke no more. So past the strong heroic soul away. And when they buried him the little port TENNYSON. A THE LESSON. VILLAGE school room-this the sceneAglow with a slant sun cheery: The dominie there, of youthful mien, With the sun of his spirit sharp and keen; And a class of girls in serried row, Some taller, and some of stature low; And some, like the morning sun, afire To reach the summit of brave desire: And, as aye, some unco dreary! "I canna an' winna teach, an' ye Mak' answer in a' this glaikit class?" The dominie sighed aweary. Oh, ay," said a little one, "I can tell." And the frown from the master's forehead fell. "Wait a wee, an' dinna weary." MARY B. DODGE. THE CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON. The composition of man is threefold; physical, intel· lectual, and moral. It is the justly proportioned compo sition of these three that constitutes the real excellence of perfect manhood-that creature made a little lower than the angels, the noblest image of God. Perhaps no character in history can be pronounced truly great without this combination; certainly not if the moral attributes be deficient. All of the qualities which belong to the "noble family of truth," which engender love of country, and promote the good of mankind and the glory of God, are born and bred in the moral nature of man, from which likewise spring the evil qualities which afflict and debase the world. That system of ethics, therefore, which best succeeds in developing the excellences of our moral nature, is the one which most commends itself to our race. The noble characters which it produces are justly held up as living, practical examples of the excellence of its principles. Viewed with reference to these facts, George Washington may be justly considered one of the greatest men whom the world has produced. Greater soldiers, more intellectual statesmen, and profounder sages have doubtless existed in the history of the English race-perhaps in our own country-but not one who to great excellence in each of these fields has added such exalted integrity, such unaffected piety, such unsullied purity of soul, and such wondrous control of his own spirit. He illustrated and adorned the civilization of Christianity, and furnished an example of the wisdom and perfection of its teachings which the subtlest arguments of its enemies cannot impeach. That one grand, rounded life, full orbed with intellectual and moral glory, is worth, as the product of Christianity, more than all the dogmas of all the teachers. The youth of America who aspire to promote their own and their country's welfare should never cease to gaze upon his great example, or to remember that the brightest gems in the crown of his immortality, the qualities which uphold his fame upon earth and plead for him in heaven, were those which characterized him as the patient, courteous, brave, Christian gentleman. In this respect he was a blessing to the whole human race no less than to his own countrymen; to the many millions who celebrate the day of his birth. ZEBULON B. Vance. A PRACTICAL YOUNG WOMAN. YOUNG Julius Jones loved Susan Slade; And oft, in dulcet tones, He vainly had besought the maid To take the name of Jones. "Wert thou but solid, then, be sure Poor Jones was sad; his coat was bad; But hope suggested: "Jones, my lad, Just try the power of verse.” He set him down and wrote in rhyme, And he in summer's golden prime— The poem praised her hair and eyes- She read it over, kept it clean, And took it to a magazine, And got ten dollars payment. IRWIN RUSSELL. OVER THE HILL FROM THE POOR-HOUSE I, WHO was always counted, they say, Rather a bad stick any way, Splintered all over with dodges and tricks, The one black sheep in my father's fold, Went over the hill on a winter's day— Tom could save what twenty could earn ; Never forgot, an' never slipped; But "Honor thy father and mother" he skipped: |