Such hand as Marmion's had not spared
To cleave the Douglas' head!

And first I tell thee, haughty peer,
He who does England's message here,
Although the meanest in her state,
May well, proud Angus, be thy mate;
And, Douglas, more I tell thee here,
Even in thy pitch of pride,
Here in thy hold, thy vassals near,-
I tell thee, thou'rt defied!
And if thou said'st I am not peer
To any lord in Scotland here,
Lowland or Highland, far or near,
Lord Angus, thou hast lied!"

On the earl's cheek the flush of rage
O'ercame the ashen hue of age:

Fierce he broke forth,—“ Anu darest thou thển
To beard the lion in his den,

The Douglas in his hall?

And hopest thou hence unscathed to go?

No, by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no!
Up drawbridge, grooms--what, warder, ho!
Let the portcullis fall."—

Lord Marmion turned,-well was his need,-
And dashed the rowels in his steed,
Like arrow through the archway sprung,
The ponderous gate behind him rung;

To pass there was such scanty room,
The bars descending grazed his plume.
The steed along the drawbridge flies
Just as it trembled on the rise;
Not lighter does the swallow skim
Along the smooth lake's level brim:
And when Lord Marmion reached his band,
He halts, and turns with clenched hand,
And shout of loud defiance pours,

And shook his gauntlet at the towers. "Horse! horse!" the Douglas cried, "and chase!" But soon he reined his fury's pace:

66

"A royal messenger he came,

Though most unworthy of the name.-
Saint Mary mend my fiery mood!
Old age ne'er cools the Douglas blood,
I thought to slay him where he stood.
'Tis pity of him, too," he cried:
"Bold can he speak and fairly ride,
I warrant him a warrior tried."
With this his mandate he recalls,
And slowly seeks his castle halls.

From "Marmion." Abridged.

I would rather be a poor man in a garret, with plenty of books, than a king who did not love reading.

Thomas Babington Macaulay.

WORK

BY THOMAS CARLYLE

No other modern writer is like Carlyle. To find a comparison for him we must go back to the Old Testament prophets who were called by God to warn men to flee from sin and low living. Hints of Carlyle's boyhood are found in his Sartor Resartus, or, The Tailor Paiched, a famous book of essays. Carlyle remembered particularly the cattlefairs to which his father took him, and his delight each day when the mail-coach passed through the little Scotch village of his home, carrying his fancy out with it into the panorama of the great world. At Edinburgh University, where he studied as a young man,

he says that he "succeeded in fishing up more books in the library than were known to the very keepers thereof." He was a life-long student and admirer of Goethe, the great German philosopher. For some years Carlyle was a schoolmaster, but his fame as a writer growing, he was made rector of Edinburgh University. His history of the French Revolution is a classic. In his friendship with Emerson the world has shared through the publication of their letters. [Born in 1795-died in 1881 ]

All true Work is sacred. In all true Work, were it but true hand-labor, there is something of divineness. Labor, wide as the Earth, has its summit in Heaven. Sweat of the brow; and up from that to sweat of the brain, sweat of

the heart; which includes all Kepler calculations, Newton meditations, all Sciences, all spoken Epics, all acted Heroisms, Martyrdoms. O brother, if this is not "worship," then I say, the more pity for worship; for this is the noblest thing yet discovered under God's sky. Who art thou that complainest of thy life of toil? Complain not. Look up, my wearied brother; see thy fellow-workmen there, in God's Eternity; surviving there, they alone surviving; sacred Band of the Immortals, celestial Bodyguard of the Empire of Mankind. Even in the weak Human Memory they survive so long, as saints, as heroes, as gods; they alone surviving; peopling, they alone, the unmeasured solitudes of Time!

To thee, Heaven, though severe, is not unkind; Heaven is kind, as a noble Mother; as that Spartan Mother, saying while she gave her son his shield, "With it, my son, or upon it!" Thou too shalt return home in honor; to thy far-distant Home, in honor; doubt it not,-if in the battle thou keep thy shield! Thou, in the Eternities and deepest Death-kingdoms, art not an alien; thou everywhere art a denizen! Complain not; the very Spartans did not complain.

From "Past and Present." Abridged.

We're made so that we love

First when we see them painted, things we have passed Perhaps a hundred times nor cared to see.

Robert Browning

ON THE NATIVITY

BY JOHN MILTON

Nor war, or battle's sound,

Was heard the world around—
The idle spear and shield were high up hung;
The hooked chariot stood

Unstained with hostile blood;

The trumpet spake not to the armed throng;
And kings sat still with awful eye,

As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was by.

But peaceful was the night

Wherein the Prince of Light

His reign of peace upon the earth began;
The winds, with wonder whist,

Smoothly the waters kissed,

Whispering new joys to the mild ocean,

Who now hath quite forgot to rave,

While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.

Abridged.