Disgrace and scorn I can endure,
In conscious rectitude secure,

And though they ne'er relent,

To every ill I am resigned,
Since He who sees the inmost mind
Knows I am innocent.

LESSON XXXIX.

TO THE SEA.-KEATE.

HAIL! thou inexhaustible source of wonder and contemplation! Hail!-Hail thou multitudinous ocean! How glorious! how awful, how beautiful are the scenes thou displayest! when every wind is hushed-when the morning sun silvers the level line of the horizon-when its evening track is marked with flaming gold, and thy unrippled bosom reflects the radiance of the overarching heavens!-in thy terrors! when the black tempest sweeps thy swelling billows, and the boiling surge mixes with the clouds,-when death rides the storm, and humanity drops a fruitless tear for the poor mariner.

And yet, mighty deep! 'tis thy surface alone we view. Who can penetrate the secrets of thy wide domain ? Great and mighty art thou, O ocean! Terrible as a giant in his strength. Placid and gentle art thou, O sea! Beautiful as a babe in its first dream. He permitteth thy stormy angerthy desolating rage! He lulleth thee with the breath of heaven!-graceth thee with the blue and the beauty of day! He hath laid sure thy foundations. His voice hath said, Thus far shalt thou go-here shall thy proud waves be stayed.

LESSON XL.

A SUDDEN CALM ON THE PACIFIC. COLERIDGE.

THE fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,

The furrow streamed off free:

We were the first that ever burst

Into that silent sea.

Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,

'Twas sad as sad could be ;

And we did speak only to break

The silence of the sea.

All in a hot and copper sky,

The bloody sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the moon.

Day after day, day after day,

We struck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water, everywhere,

And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, everywhere,

But not a drop to drink.

LESSON XLI.

AMBITION FALSE AND TRUE-ANONYMOUS

I WOULD not wear the warrior's wreath,
I would not court his crown;

For love and virtue sink beneath
His dark and vengeful frown.

I would not seek my fame to build
On glory's dizzy height;
Her temple is with orphans filled;
Blood soils her sceptre bright.

I would not wear the diadem,
By folly prized so dear;

For want and wo have bought each gem,
And every pearl's a tear.

I would not heap the golden chest,

That sordid spirits crave;

For every gain-by penury cursed-
Is gathered from the grave.

No; let my wreath unsullied be;
My fame be virtuous youth;
My wealth be kindness, charity;
My diadem be truth.

Ir is much to the credit of the young speaker when he comes before his audience with a neat and graceful bow. The figure represents the side view of a boy making his bow. The pupil, with a gentle but assured step, approaches nearly to the front of the platform, a little on the right of the centre, then pausing for a moment in the first right position, he casts his eyes with a diffident respect over the audience-slides out his left foot on the toe, in a straight line; then, supporting the body on that foot, he draws in the right foot until its heel comes into the middle or hollow of the left foot; he then presses his legs together, and dropping his eyes modestly to the floor, brings his body into a slight and graceful curve, the arms hanging perfectly free. In this posture the body is kept for an instant; he then rises slowly to an erect attitude, and resumes the first right position, when he is ready to commence speaking. There should be no parade or affectation, but all marked by the manliness of a noble boy, who thinks more of propriety and excellence than he does of mere show.

Some teachers instruct their pupils to look directly in the eyes of those to whom they are bowing; this mode, if preferred, can be adopted without any injury to the other directions here given.

LESSON XLII.

REPLY TO THE DUKE OF GRAFTON THURLOW.

MY LORDS:-I am amazed-yes, my lords, I am amazed at his Grace's speech. The noble duke cannot look before him, behind him, or on either side of him, without seeing some noble peer who owes his seat in this house to his successfui exertions in the profession to which I belong. Does he not feel that it is as honorable to owe it to these, as to being the accident of an accident? To all these noble lords, the lan

guage of the noble duke is as applicable and as insulting as it is to myself. But I don't fear to meet it single and alone. No one venerates the peerage more than I do-but, my lords, I must say that the peerage solicited me,-not I the peerage. Nay more,-I can say and will say, that as a peer of parliament,— as speaker of this right honorable house,-as keeper of the great seal, as guardian of his majesty's conscience,-as lord high chancellor of England,-nay, even in that character alone, in which the noble duke would think it an affront to be considered-but which character none can deny me-as a man, I am at this moment as respectable-I beg leave to add, I am at this time as much respected, as the proudest peer I now look down upon.

LESSON XLIII.

AN INFANT KILLED BY LIGHTNING. CLARE.

As fearless as a cherub's rest
Now safe above the cloud,
A babe lay on its mother's breast,
When thunders roared aloud;
It started not to hear the crash,
But held its little hand
Up, at the lightning's fearful flash,
To catch the burning brand!

The tender mother stayed her breath
In more than grief, awhile,

To think the thing that brought its death,
Should cause the babe to smile.

Ay, it did smile a heavenly smile,

To see the lightning play;

Well might she shriek when it turned pale,
And yet it smiled in clay.

O woman! the dread storm was given
To be to each a friend:

It took thy infant pure to heaven—
Left thee impure to mend.

Thus Providence will oft appear
From God's own mouth to preach:
Ah! would we were as prone to hear,
As mercy is to teach.

LESSON XLIV.

ASPIRATIONS OF YOUTH.-MONTGOMERY

HIGHER, higher will we climb,
Up the mount of glory,

That our names may live through time,
In our country's story;
Happy, when her welfare calls,
He who conquers, he who falls.

Deeper, deeper let us toil

In the mines of knowledge;
Nature's wealth, and learning's spoil,
Win from school and college;
Delve we there for richer gems,

Than the stars of diadems.

I AM astonished, my lords, to hear such principles confessed! I am shocked to hear them avowed in this House, or in this country! Principles equally unconstitutional, inhuman, and unchristian! My lords, I did not intend to encroach again on your attention, but I cannot repress my indignation.