Joy was upon that dark man's face,
And thus, with laughing eye, spake he→→
"Loose ye the lord of Zaara's waste,
And let my arms be free;

'He has a martial heart,' thou sayest,
But oh, who will not be

A hero, when he fights for life,

And home, and country,-babes, and wife.

And thus I for the strife prepare;
The Thracian falchion to me bring ;
But ask th' imperial leave to spare
The shield-a useless thing.
Were I a Samnite's rage to dare,
Then o'er me should I fling
The broad orb; but to lion's wrath
The shield were but a sword of lath."

And he has bared his shining blade,
And springs he on the shaggy foe;
Dreadful the strife, but briefly played-
The desert-king lies low,

His long and loud death-howl is made,
And there must end the show.

And when the multitude were calm,
The favourite freedman took the palm.

"Kneel down, Rome's emperour beside :" He knelt, that dark man ;—o'er his brow Was thrown a wreath in crimson died, And fair words gild it now:

"Thou'rt the bravest youth that ever tried To lay a lion low;

And from our presence forth thou go'st
To lead the Dacians of our host."

Then flushed his cheek, but not with pride,

And grieved and gloomily spoke he:

My cabin stands where blithely glide

Proud Danube's waters to the sea;
I have a young and blooming bride,
And I have children three ;

No Roman wealth nor rank can give
Such joy, as in their arms to live.

My wife sits at the cabin door,

With throbbing heart and swollen eyes;
While tears her cheek are coursing o'er,
She speaks of sundered ties.

She bids my tender babes deplore
The death their father dies;
She tells these jewels of my home,
I bleed to please the rout of Rome.

I cannot let those cherubs stray
Without their sire's protecting care;
And I would chase the griefs away
Which cloud my wedded fair."
The monarch spoke, the guards obey,
And gates unclosed are;

He is gone-no golden bribes divide
The Dacian from his babes and bride.

LESSON XXXIV.

Paternal Affection-BANCROFT

How mildly beams a father's face!
How true and tender his embrace!
Heaven blends the hearts of sire and son;
Their kindred souls are joined in one;
No stay is like a father's arm;

No eye so quick to guard from harm;
And more the heart his counsels move,
Than pleasure's voice, or woman's love.

Hath fickle passion wronged thy youth?
Cling to his side, whose love is truth;
Have friends thy innocence beguiled?
Guileless a father guides his child;
Or hast thou vainly wandered far,
To search for truth's directing star?
Return and claim thy sire's embrace ;
His bosom be thy resting-place.

Or hast thou aim'd to soar in skies,
Where mightier spirits fearless rise,

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And feeble, as the bird that springs

Toward heaven, ere time hath nerved his wings,
With flagging plumes too soon returnest,

All drooping to the ground thou spurnest?
Fly to thy father's tranquil breast,

Thou weary bird, make there thy nest.

Alas, for orphan hearts, that mourn
The dearest ties of nature torn ;
They gaze not on a father's eye;
No more upon his bosom lie;

For them life's surest friend is gone;
In grief, in hope their hearts are lone;
And e'en should love still light its fires,
What earthly love is like a sire's?

LESSON XXXV.

Advice to a Young Tradesman.-FRANKLIN.

As you have desired it of me, I write the following hints, which have been of service to me, and may, if observed, be so to you.

Remember, that time is money. He that can earn ten shillings a day by his labour, and goes abroad, or sits idle, one half of that day, though he spends but sixpence during his diversion, or idleness, ought not to reckon that the only expense; he has really spent, or rather thrown away, five shillings besides.

Remember, that credit is money. If a man lets his money lie in my hands after it is due, he gives me the interest, or so much as I can make of it, during that time. This amounts to a considerable sum, where a man has good and large credit, and makes good use of it.

Remember, that money is of a prolifick, generating nature. Money can beget money, and its offspring can beget more, and so on. Five shillings turned is six, turned again it is seven and threepence, and so on, till it becomes an hundred pounds. The more there is of it, the more it produces, every turning, so that the profits rise quicker and quicker. He that wastes a crown, destroys all that it might have produced, even scores of pounds.

Remember, that six pounds a year is but a groat a day. For this little sum, a man of credit may, on his own security, have the constant possession and use of an hundred pounds. So much in stock, briskly turned by an industrious man, produces great advantage.

Remember this saying, "the good paymaster is lord of another man's purse.' He that is known to pay punctually, and exactly at the time he promises, may at any time, and on any occasion, raise all the money his friends can spare. This is sometimes of great use. After industry and frugality, nothing contributes more to the raising of a young man in the world, than punctuality, and justice, in all his dealings; therefore, never keep borrowed money an hour beyond the time you promised, lest a disappointment shut up your friend's purse forever.

The most trifling actions, that affect a man's credit, are to be regarded. The sound of your hammer at five in the morning, or nine at night, heard by a creditor, makes him easy six months longer; but if he sees you at a billiard table, or hears your voice at a tavern, when you should be at work, he sends for his money the next day; demands it, before he can receive it in a lump.

It shows, besides, that you are mindful of what you owe; it makes you appear a careful as well as an honest man, and that still increases your credit.

Beware of thinking all your own that you possess, and of living accordingly. It is a mistake that many poor people, who have credit, fall into. To prevent this, keep an exact account for some time, both of your expenses and your income. If you take the pains at first to mention particulars, it will have this good effect; you will discover how wonderfully small trifling expenses amount up to large sums, and will discern what might have been, and may for the future be saved, without occasioning any great inconvenience.

In short, the way to wealth, if you desire it, is as plain as the way to market. It depends chiefly on two words, industry and frugality; that is, waste neither time nor money, but make the best use of both. Without industry and frugality, nothing will do, and with them, every thing. He that gets all he can honestly, and saves all he gets, will certainly be- » come rich-if that Being, who governs the world, to whom all should look for a blessing on their honest endeavours, doth not, in his wise providence, otherwise determine.

LESSON XXXVI.

Battle of Bunker Hill, June 17th, 1775.-N. A. REVIEW.

THE incidents and result of the battle itself were most important, and indeed most wonderful. As a mere battle, few surpass it in whatever engages and interests the attention. It was fought, on a conspicuous eminence, in the immediate neighbourhood of a populous city; and, consequently, in the view of thousands of spectators. The attacking army moved over a sheet of water to the assault. The operations and movements were, of course, all visible and all distinct.

Those who looked on from the houses and heights of Boston, had a fuller view of every important operation and event, than can ordinarily be had of any battle, or than can possibly be had of such as are fought on a more extended ground, or by detachments of troops acting in different places, and at different times, and in some measure independently of each other. When the British columns were advancing to the attack, the flames of Charlestown, (fired, as is generally supposed, by a shell,) began to ascend. The spectators, far outnumbering both armies, thronged and crowded on every height and every point, which afforded a view of the scene, themselves constituted a very important part of it.

The troops of the two armies, seemed like so many combatants in an amphitheatre. The manner in which they should acquit themselves, was to be judged of, not as in other cases of military engagements, by reports and future history, but by a vast and anxious assembly already on the spot, and waiting with unspeakable concern and emotion the progress of the day.

In other battles, the recollection of wives and children, has been used as an excitement to animate the warriour's breast, and nerve his arm. Here was not a mere recollection, but an actual presence of them, and other dear connexions, hanging on the skirts of the battle, anxious and agitated, feeling almost as if wounded themselves by every blow of the enemy, and putting forth, as it were, their own strength, and all the energy of their own throbbing bosoms, into every gallant effort of their warring friends.

But there was a more comprehensive and vastly more important view of that day's contest, than has been mentioned, a view, indeed, which ordinary eyes, bent intently on what was immediately before them, did not embrace, but which