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Hast thou old Greece and Rome surveyed,
And the vast sense of Plato' weighed?
Hath Socrates' thy soul refined,

And hast thou fathomed Tully's* mind?
Or, like the wise Ulysses, thrown,

3

By various fates, on realms unknown,
Hast thou through many cities strayed,
Their customs, laws, and manners weighed?

III.

The Shepherd modestly replied,
I ne'er the paths of learning tried;
Nor have I roamed in foreign part.
To read mankind, their laws and arts;
For man is practiced in disguise,
He cheats the most discerning eyes;
Who by that search shall wiser grow,
When we ourselves can never know?
The little knowledge I have gained,
Was all from simple nature drained;
Hence my life's maxims took their rise,
Hence grew my settled hate to vice.

IV.

The daily labors of the bee
Awake my soul to industry;
Who can observe the careful ant,
And not provide for future want?
My dog (the trustiest of his kind)
With gratitude inflames my mind;
I mark his true, his faithful way,
And, in my service, copy Tray.
In constancy and nuptial love,
I learn my duty from the dove.

* Marcus Tullius Cicero. See page 296,

The hen, who from the chilly air,
With pious wing, protects her care,
And every fowl that flies at large,
Instruct me in a parent's charge.

V.

From nature, too, I take my rule,
To shun contempt and ridicule.
I never, with important air,
In conversation overbear.

Can grave and formal pass for wise,
When men the solemn owl despise?
My tongue within my lips I rein;
For who talks much, must talk in vain.
We from the wordy torrent fly;

Who listens to the chattering pye?
Nor would I, with felonious sleight,
By stealth invade my neighbor's right.
Rapacious animals we hate:

Kites, hawks, and wolves, deserve their fate.

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But he who studies Nature's laws,
From certain truth his maxims draws;
And those, without our schools, suffice
To make men moral, good, and wise.

EXERCISE XVI.

PAR' A BLE is a word made up of two Greek words (PARA, beside, and BOLE, a throwing), signifying the act of throwing or placing one thing beside another for the purposes of comparison. It is the name applied to a species of Allegory (see page 52), and differs from the Fable only, or chiefly, in treating of things spiritual, and in not violating the order of things in real life. "The excellence of a parable," says an able writer, "depends on the propriety and force of the comparison on which it is founded; on the general fitness and harmony of its parts; on the obviousness of its main scope or design; on the beauty and conciseness of the style in which it is expressed; and on its adaptation to the circumstances and capacities of the hearers." The one here given, besides conveying a noble moral lesson, furnishes an admirable exercise in reading.

THE PRODIGAL SON :-A PARABLE.

LUKE, CHAP. XV.

1. And he said, A certain man had two sons: and the younger of them said to his father, Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his living. And not many days after, the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living. And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in want.

2. And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country; and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would fain have filled his belly with the husks that the swine did eat; and no man gave unto him. And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with

hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as ɔne of thy hired servants.

3. And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him. And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son. But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet and bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry: for this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be

merry.

4. Now his elder son was in the field: and as he came and drew nigh to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the servants, and asked what these things meant. And he said unto him, Thy brother is come; and thy father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath received him safe and sound. And he was angry, and would not go in; therefore came his father out, and entreated him.

5. And he answering, said to his father, Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment; and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends but as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf. And he said unto him, Son, thou art ever with me; and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.

EXERCISE XVII.

JANE TAYLOR was born in London in the year 1783. She died in 1824. She began to make verses before she had reached her ninth year. She wrote much and wrote well; and, in her writings, has left to the young a rich legacy of mingled entertainment and instruction. The following is quite in her vein.

THE VASE AND THE PITCHER

I.

JANE TAYLOR

One day, when a grand entertainment was ended,
A rich china Vase, lately come from abroad,
In which every tint of the rainbow was blended,
Spoke thus to a Pitcher that stood on the board:—

II.

"I hope, rustic neighbor, you don't feel distressed
At standing before me so shabbily dressed:
It will mitigate, may be, your feelings to know
That, though so superb, I can stoop to the low.

III.

""Tis true that, before I arrived from abroad,
Beyond the wide Ganges, I lived with a lord:
'Tis true, in the west, that no king can procure,
For his service of state, so splendid a ewer.

IV.

"'Tis true that gay ladies, in feathers and pearls,
Survey and admire me-and barons and earls:
'Tis true that I am, as you must understand,
Prodigiously rich, and excessively grand.

V.

"But you, paltry bottle! I pity your fate:
Whence came ye, coarse neighbor, I prithee relate;

And tell us, how is it you ever endure

Sa graceless a shape, and so vile a contour?"

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