Who, to erring woman's sorrow, Would you, brother'? brother'? No,—you would not. If you would,—not I. 3. Would you say that Vice is Virtue Or, that rogues are not dishonest Who would say Success and Merit Ne'er part company? Would you, brother'? No, you would not. If you would,—not I. 4. Who would give a cause his efforts But desert it on its failure, Would you, brother'? No, you would not. If you would,-not I. 5. Who would lend his arm to strengthen Who would give his pen to blacken Freedom's page of light'? Who would lend his tongue to utter Praise of tyranny`? Would you, brother'? No',-you would not. QUESTIONS.-1. What rule for the rising and falling inflections, first verse? See page 28. 2. Repeat the rule. 3. What rule for the falling inflections, fifth verse? See page 29. 4. Repeat the rule. What is the meaning of the suffix en, in the words strengthen, blacken? See SANDERS and MCELLI GOTT'S ANALYSIS OF ENGLISH WORDS, p. 132, Ex. 174. LESSON III. WAR' FARE, Conflict; struggle. VA' RI ED, changing; different. GOAL, the mark that bounds a race. LIFE'S WORK. 1. Life is onward: use it Toil is heavenly choose it, And its warfare claim. To perform your will; 2. Life is onward: never It would hold you ever In its clutches fast. 3. Life is onward: try it, It hath virtue: buy it, At whatever cost. If the World should offer Every precious gem, Look not at the scoffer, Change it not for them. [hand. 4. Life is onward: heed it, 5. Life is onward: prize it, In its humblest form. Hope and Joy together, Standing at the goal, Through life's darkest weather, Beckon on the soul. QUESTIONS.-1. What do it and them refer to, third verse, last line? 2. Repeat the word sunshine several times in quick succession. LESSON AC CUS' TOM ED, used; habituated. IV. MON' ARCH, Sovereign; ruler. THE YOUNG CAPTIVES. 1. Many years ago, during the early settlements in New England, the children were accustomed to gather large quantities of nuts, which grew in great abundance in the forests that surrounded their little plantations. 2. In one of these nut-gatherings, a little boy and girl, the one eight and the other four years of age, whose mother was dead, became separated from their companions. On their way home, they came across some wild grapes, and were busily engaged in gathering them, till the last rays of the setting sun were fading away. 3. Suddenly they were seized by two Indians. The boy struggled violently, and his little sister cried to him for protection; but in vain. The Indians soon bore them far beyond the bounds of the settlement. Night was far advanced before they halted. Then they kindled a fire, and offered the children some food. 4. The heart of the boy swelled high with grief and anger, and he refused to eat. But the poor little girl took some parched corn from the hand of the Indian who held her on his knee. He smiled as he saw her eat the kernels, and look up in his face with a wondering, yet reproachful eye. Then they lay down to sleep in the dark forest, each with an arm over his little captive. 5. Great was the alarm in the colony when these children did not return. Every spot was searched, where it was thought possible they might have lost their way.. But when, at length, their little basket was found, overturned in a tangled thicket, they came to the conclusion that they must have been captured by the Indians. 6. It was decided that before any warlike measures were adopted, the father should go peacefully to the Indian king, and demand his children. At the earliest dawn of morning he departed with his companions. They met a friendly Indian pursuing the chase, who consented to be their guide. 7. They traveled through rude paths, until the day drew near a close. Then, approaching a circle of native dwellings, in the midst of which was a tent, they saw a man of lofty form, with a coronet of feathers upon his brow, and sur rounded by warriors. The guide saluted him as his mone arch, and the bereaved father, bowing down, thus addressed him : 8. "King of the red men, thou seest a father in pursuit of his lost children. He has heard that your people will not harm the stranger in distress. So he trusts himself fearlessly among you. The king of our own native land, who should have protected us, became our foe. We fled from our dear homes-from the graves of our fathers. 9. "The ocean wave brought us to this New World. We are a peaceful race, pure from the blood of all men. We seek to take the hand of our red brethren. Of my own kindred, none inhabit this wilderness, save two little buds, from a broken, buried stem. 10. "Last night, sorrow entered into my soul, because I found them not. Knowest thou, O king, if thy people have taken my children'? Knowest thou where they have concealed them'? Cause them, I pray thee, to be restored to my arms. So shall the Great Spirit bless thy own tender plants, and lift up thy heart when it weigheth heavily on thy bosom. ' 11. The Indian monarch, fixing on him a piercing glance, said: "Knowest thou me'? Look in my eyes'! Look! Answer me! Are they the eyes of a stranger'?" The bereaved father replied that he had no recollection of having ever before seen his countenance. 12. Thus it is with the white man. He is dim-eyed. He looketh on the garments more than on the soul. Where yur plows turn up the earth, oft have I stood watching your toil. There was no coronet on my brow. king. And you knew it not. But I was 13. "I looked upon your people. I saw neither pride nor violence. I went an enemy, but returned a friend. I said to my warriors, 'Do these men no harm. They do not |