“Where shall I turn ?" the wretch exclaims;
"Where hide my shameful head?
How fly from scorn, or how contrive
To earn an honest bread?

This branded hand would gladly toil,
But when for work I pray,

Who views this mark, A felon !' cries,
And, loathing, turns away.

"My heart has greatly erred, but now
Would fain return to good!
My hand has deeply sinned, but yet
Has ne'er been stained with blood.
For alms, or work, in vain I sue,
The scorners both deny ;

I starve! I starve! then what remains?
This choice

to sin or die!

"There's mercy in each ray of light,
That mortal eyes e'er saw;
There 's mercy in each breath of air,
That mortal lips e'er draw!
There's mercy, both for bird and beast,
In God's indulgent plan,

There's mercy in each creeping thing,-
But man has none for man.

"Ye proudly honest! when you heard
My wounded conscience groan,
Had generous hand, or feeling heart,
One glimpse of mercy shown,
That act had made, from burning eyes,
Sweet tears of virtue roll,

Had fixed my heart, assured my faith,
And heaven had gained a soul."

LESSON IX.

INNOVATION.-EDITOR.

The following playful piece is classed under the head of Satirical composition, Satire being an essay, or poem, in which vice or folly is severely censured.

If there is any one thing that excites my wonder, it is how so wise a man as Solomon could have seriously said, "there is no new thing under the sun," when it is but too apparent, that, with the exception of my subject, there is no old one. Every thing has been innovation from the beginning of time. What in the world did Adam want of a wife when he was made without one. They say he wanted somebody to talk to, but he found out too late that all the talking was on the other side.

Then, what on earth did he want of another tree, when he had already more than he could name without the help of his helpmeet with the peculiar gift just alluded to.

Then he must go to dressing himself. For my part, I think one of the worst consequences of his original sin, was this bringing all his posterity into bondage to tailors and dress makers.

And then again, what was cultivating the ground but a shocking innovation. The garden of Eden looked well enough till it was covered with potato hills, and tangled with squash vines.

Then came Death too, one of the greatest innovations that could be thought of. I should like to ask him who first invented it, whether it answered his expectations. Then came the nonsense of government. I should like to know who the first fool was, that supposed one man could govern a million better than each of the million could govern himself.

Now-a-days the greatest innovation is Education. What good does it all do? Educated people dispute

ten times as often, and ten times as long as the ignorant. Man, the only educated animal, is the only one that perverts his nature. He is a lump of perversion, body and mind.

Look at his five senses; what does he do with them? Does he smell with his nose? No, he feeds it with snuff till it can't smell, or he uses it like a peg, to hang his specs on, or for a guage to show how much he

drinks.

Does he see with his eyes? Not he, he sees with his specs. Does he hear with his ears? No, he covers them with hats, or caps, or wigs. Does he taste with his mouth? No, he drinks scalding liquids or eats ice, or munches tobacco, till his mouth is any thing but the "Bower of Taste."

Has he the more universal sense of feeling? Yes, but only in one solitary spot-his pocket.

Talk of Education! it is as great a humbug as the sub-treasury. It deals in specious things, if not in specie; but education is like the sub-treasury in one thing, if no more; you do not know how poor you are till you are fully blessed with it.

Just now, alack! reform is all the go, and it is funny to see how some folks carry it on. Take Slavery; how is that reformed? By emancipating slaves at the South? No, by quarrelling, and circulating tracts at the North. How do they propose to make society temperate? By excommunicating all the intemperate. How do they propose to reform religion? By showing how much they need it. How do they propose to promote peace? By preparing for war, to be sure. How do the perfectionists calculate to make mankind perfect? By the old process of calling evil good and good evil.

This is a busy world, as the grasshopper said when he thrust his long leg into an ant hill; an innovation, by the way, that showed more understanding than good

manners. I could go on all night with these innovations; the world is full of them; but what good would it do? Any attempt to check innovation would be innovation, and I have set my face against every form of it, save one, viz: whereas, it is customary for young orators to make long speeches, and very dry ones, I am going to make a short one, and, if you say so, a very pleasant one.

LESSON X.

THE SOMŇAMBULIST.

A somnambulist is a person who walks in his sleep. It is not certain that this somnambulist in his dream fared worse than many who are in pursuit of wealth with their eyes open. The piece should be spoken by a small pupil. The author is unknown to the Editor.

In midnight dreams the wizard came
And stood before my view,

While tempting hopes of wealth and fame,
He to my vision drew.

He led me forth across a heath,

To where the river swept,
And where, the glassy tide beneath,
Uncounted treasures slept.

The joyous ripples gaily danced
Around the cherished store,
And circling eddies brightly glanced
Above the yellow ore.

I bent me o'er the deep, smooth stream,
And plunged, the gold to get,

But, oh! it vanished with my dream,
And I got dripping wet.

LESSON XI.

WATER.

One of the earliest poets whose works have come down to our times, was ANACREON, whose poems are short Lyrics, and chiefly in praise of wine and Bacchus, the fabled god of revelry and intemperance. It is among the wonders of our day, that Water has been thought a fit subject for poetry. The author is Miss E. COOKE, author of Lesson II.

Wine, wine, thy power and praise

Have ever been echoed in minstrel lays;
But water, I deem, hath a mightier claim
To fill up a niche in the temple of fame.
Ye, who are bred in Anacreon's school,
May sneer at my strain as the song of a fool:
Ye are wise, no doubt, but have yet to learn
How the tongue can cleave, and the veins can burn.

Should ye ever be one of a fainting band,

With your brow to the sun and your feet to the sand,
I would wager the thing I'm most loath to spare,
That your bacchanal chorus would never ring there:
Traverse the desert, and then ye can tell

What treasures exist in the cold, deep well;
Sink in despair on the red parched earth,
And then ye may reckon what water is worth.

Famine is laying her hand of bone

On a ship becalmed in the torrid zone;
The gnawing of hunger's worm is past,
But fiery thirst lives on to the last.
The stoutest one of the gallant crew
Hath a cheek and lips of ghastly hue;
The hot blood stands in each glassy eye,
And, "Water, oh God!" is the only cry.

There's drought in the land, and the herbage is dead,
No ripple is heard in the streamlet's bed;