against us, and his hand, caught between the two boats, was crushed, and the arm, wrenched from its socket, fell a helpless weight against his side; but life remained. We were saved, and an arm was a small price to pay for life. 20. We reached the "Rhode Island;" ropes were flung over her side, and caught with a death-grip. Some lost their hold, were washed away, and again dragged in by the boat's crew. What chance had one whose right arm hung a dead weight, when strong men with their two hands, went down before him? He caught at a rope, found it impossible to save himself alone, and then for the first time said,—“I am injured; can any one help me?" Ensign Taylor, at the risk of his own life, brought the rope around his shoulder in such a way that it could not slip, and he was drawn up in safety. 21. In the mean time, the whale-boat, which had nearly caused our destruction, had reached the side of the "Monitor;" and now the captain said, "It is madness to remain here longer let each man save himself." For a moment, he descended to the cabin for a coat, and his faithful servant followed to secure a jewel-box, containing the accumulated treasure of years. A sad, sorry sight it was! In the heavy air the lamps burned dimly, and the water, waist-deep, splashed sullenly against the sides of the wardroom. One lingering look, and he left the "Monitor's" cabin forever! 22. Time was precious; he hastened to the deck, where, in the midst of a terrible sea, Lieutenant Greene nobly held his post. He seized the rope from the whale-boat, wound it about an iron stanchion, then around his wrists, and, by this means, was drawn aboard the boat. Thus, one by one, watching their time between the waves, the men filled in, and, at last, after making all effort for others, and none for themselves, Captain Bankhead and Lieutenant Greene took their places in the boat. The gallant Brown pushed off, and soon had his boat-load safe upon the "Rhode Island's " deck. 23. Here the heartiest and most tender reception met us. Our drenched clothing was replaced by warm and dry garments, and all on board vied with each other in acts of kindness. The only one who had received any injury, Surgeon Weeks, was carefully attended to, the dislocated arm se, .and the crushed fingers amputated, by the gentlest and most considerate of surgeons, Dr. Webber, of the "Rhode Island." *. 24. For an hour or more we watched, from the deck of the steamer, the lonely light upon the "Monitor's "turrets; a hundred times we thought it gone forever,—a hundred times it reäppeared, till, at last, about two o'clock, Wednesday morning, December 31st, it sank, and we saw it no more. An actor in the scenes of that wild night, when the "Monitor" went down, relates the story of her last cruise. Her work is now over. She lies a hundred fathoms deep under the stormy waters off Cape Hatteras; but she has made herself a name, which will not soon be forgotten by the American people. QUESTIONS.-1. When and where was the Monitor lost? 2. What signal service had she rendered? 3. Who was the writer of this account? LESSON XC. RE SPON SI BIL' I TIE$, obligations LA' TENT, Secret; hidden. IN IQ UI TY, wickedness. EF FECTIVE, powerful; efficient. WAN' TON LY, wastefully. RE VERSION, future possession. PEN'E TRA TIVE, entering; piercing. A THWART', across. MAL'ICE, ill-will; hatred. CHIVAL RY, heroism; valor. SUS' TE NANCE, food; support. IM POS' ED, laid on; assigned. *The writer of this account. DUTIES AND RESPONSIBILITIES OF WOMAN. GAIL HAMILTON. 1. OH, if this latent power could be aroused! If woman would shake off this slumber, and put on her strength, her beautiful garments, how would she go forth conquering and to conquer! How would the mountains break forth into singing, and the trees of the field clap their hands! How would our sin-stained earth arise and shine, her light being. come, and the glory of the Lord being risen upon her! 2. One can not do the world's work; but one can do one's work. You may not be able to turn the world from iniquity; but you can, at least, keep the dust and rust from gathering on your own soul. If you can not be directly and actively engaged in fighting the battle, you can, at least, polish your armor and sharpen your weapons, to strike an effective blow when the hour comes. You can stanch the blood of him who has been wounded in the fray,-bear a of cold water to the thirsty and fainting,—give help to the conquered, and smiles to the victor. cup 3. You can gather from the past and the present stores of wisdom, so that, when the future demands it, you may bring forth from your treasures things new and old. Whatever of bliss the "Divinity that shapes our ends" may see fit to withhold from you, you are but very little lower than the angels, so long as you have the "Godlike power to do, the godlike aim to know" 4. You can be forming habits of self-reliance, sound judg◄ ment, perseverance, and endurance, which may, one day, stand you in good stead. in good stead. You can so train yourself to right thinking and right acting, nature, truth your impulse. whose heart is always right. that uprightness shall be your His head is seldom far wrong, We bow down to mental great ness, intellectual strength, and they are divine gifts; but moral rectitude is stronger than they. It is irresistible,— always in the end triumphant. 5. There is in goodness a penetrative power that nothing can withstand. Cunning and malice melt away before its mild, open, steady glance. Not alone on the fields where chivalry charges for laurels, with helmet and breastplate and lance in rest, can the true knight exultingly exclaim, "My strength is as the strength of ten, but wherever man meets man, wherever there is a prize to be won, a goal to be reached. Wealth, and rank, and beauty, may form a brilliant setting to the diamond; but they only expose more nakedly the false glare of the paste. Only when the king's daughter is all glorious within, is it fitting and proper that her clothing should be of wrought gold. 6. From the great and good of all ages rings out the same monotone. The high-priest of Nature, the calm-eyed poet who laid his heart so close to hers, that they seemed to throb in one pulsation, yet whose car was always open to the "still sad music of humanity," has given us the promise of his life-long wisdom in these grand words :— "True dignity abides with him alone Who, in the silent hour of inward thought 7. Through the din of twenty rolling centuries, pierces the sharp, stern voice of the brave old Greek: "Let every man, when he is about to do a wicked action, above all things in the world, stand in awe of himself, and dread the witness within him." All greatness, and all glory, all that earth has to give, all that Heaven can proffer, lies within the reach of the lowliest as well as the highest; for He who spake as never man spake, has said that the very "kingdom of God is within you." 8. Born to such an inheritance, will you wantonly cast it away'? With such a goal in prospect, will you suffer yourself to be turned aside by the sheen and shimmer of tinsel fruit'? With earth in possession, and Heaven in reversion, will you go sorrowing and downcast, because here and there a pearl or ruby fails you'? Nay, rather forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those which are before, press forward! 9. Discontent and murmuring are insidious foes; trample them under your feet. Utter no complaint, whatever betide; for complaining is a sign of weakness. If your trouble can be helped, help it; if not, bear it. You can be whatever you will to be. Therefore, form and accomplish worthy pur poses. 10. If you walk alone, let it be with no faltering tread. Show to an incredulous world Or, if the golden thread of love shine athwart the dusky warp of duty, if other hearts depend on yours for sustenance and strength, give to them from your fullness no stinted measure. Let the dew of your kindness fall on the evil and the good, on the just and on the unjust. 11. Compass happiness, since happiness alone is victory. On the fragments of your shattered plans, and hopes, and love, on the heaped-up ruins of your past, rear a stately palace, whose top shall reach unto heaven, whose beauty shall gladden the eyes of all beholders, whose doors shall stand wide open to receive the way-worn and weary. Life is |