which were lately beheld with indifference | tend should be realized. His passions were occupy now all the powers and capacities strong, and sometimes they broke out with of the soul, the contrast between the present vehemence; but he had the power of checkand the past serving only to enhance and to ing them in an instant. Perhaps self-control endear so unlooked-for an acquisition. What was the most remarkable trait of his characGray has so finely said of the pleasures of ter. It was in part the effect of discipline, vicissitude conveys but a faint image of what yet he seems by nature to have possessed this is experienced by the man who, after having power to a degree which has been denied to lost in vulgar occupations and vulgar amuse- other men. ments his earliest and most precious years, is thus introduced at last to a new heaven and a new earth.

'The meanest floweret of the vale,

The simplest note that swells the gale,
The common sun, the air, the skies,
To him are opening Paradise."

DUGALD STEWART.

WASHINGTON'S MORAL CHARACTER.

A Christian in faith and practice, he was habitually devout. His reverence for religion is seen in his example, his public communications and his private writings. He uniformly ascribed his successes to the beneficent agency of the supreme Being. Charitable and humane, he was liberal to the poor and kind to those in distress. As a husband, son and brother he was tender and affectionate. Without vanity, ostentation or pride,

HIS moral qualities were in perfect har- he never spoke of himself or his actions un

mony with those of his intellect. Duty was the ruling principle of his conduct, and the rare endowments of his understanding were not more constantly tasked to devise the best methods of effecting an object than they were to guard the sanctity of conscience. No instance can be adduced in which he was actuated by a sinister motive or endeavored to attain an end by unworthy means. Truth, integrity and justice were deeply rooted in his mind, and nothing could rouse his indignation so soon or so utterly destroy his confidence as the discovery of the want of these virtues in any one whom he had trusted. Weaknesses, follies, indiscretions, he could forgive, but subterfuge and dishonesty he never forgot, rarely pardoned. He was candid and sincere, true to his friends and faithful to all, neither practising dissimulation, descending to artifice nor holding out expectations which he did not in

The

less required by circumstances which con-
cerned the public interests. As he was free
from envy, so he had the good fortune to
escape the envy of others by standing on an
elevation which none could hope to attain.
If he had one passion more strong than
another, it was love of his country.
purity and ardor of his patriotism were com-
mensurate with the greatness of its object.
Love of country in him was invested with
the sacred obligation of a duty, and from
the faithful discharge of this duty he never
swerved for a moment, either in thought or
deed, through the whole period of his event-
ful career.

JARED SPARKS.

POVERTY AND LOVE.-He travels safe and not unpleasantly who is guarded by poverty and guided by love. SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.

His great dark eyes were all ablaze,
And oh how plainly I could trace
His father's image!-there the same

Sweet smile and lofty brow, the same Unconquered air and heart of fire,

Crowned by the same untarnished naine.
With silent pain I clung to him:

My lost, lost king lived in my boy;
Then wrung from out my wounded heart
A wordless prayer: "God give them joy!"

ADA P. REYNOLDS.

MOTHER EGYPT.

Draw down your great ships to the seas;
Repass the Gates of Hercules:
Go back to wife with babe at breast,
And leave lorn Egypt to her rest."
Is Christ, then, dead as Egypt is?
Ah, Mother Egypt, torn in twain,
There's something grimly wrong in this,
So like some gray, sad woman slain.

What would you have your mother do?
Hath she not done enough for you?
Go back; and when you learn to read,
Come read this obelisk. Her deed
Like yonder awful forehead is

ARK-BROWED she broods with weary Disdainful silence like to this.

DA

lids

Beside her Sphynx and pyramids,
With low and never-lifted head.

If she be dead, respect the dead;
If she be weeping, let her weep;
If she be sleeping, let her sleep;
For, lo! this woman named the stars;
She suckled at her tawny dugs
Your Moses while you reeked in wars
And prowled your woods nude, painted
thugs.

Then back, brave England-back in peace-
To Christian isles of fat increase!

Go back! else bid your high priests take
Your great bronze Christs and cannon make;
Take down the cross from proud St. Paul's
And coin it into cannon-balls.

Your tent not far from Nazareth,

Your camp spreads where His child-feet strayed:

If Christ had seen this work of death,

If Christ had seen these ships invade,

I think the patient Christ had said,

W

JOAQUIN MILLER.

BLUE-EYED ANN.

HEN the rough North forgets to howl,
And ocean's billows cease to roll;
When Libyan sands are bound in frost,
And cold to Nova Zembla's lost;
When heavenly bodies cease to move,-

"Go back, brave men! Take up your dead; My blue-eyed Ann I'll cease to love.