at once. this hill.

And this is the true secret of the movements on

I will not attempt to describe the battle. The cannonading-the landing of the British-their advance-the coolness with which the charge was met-the repulsethe second attack-the second repulse-the burning of Charlestown-and, finally, the closing assault, and the slow retreat of the Americans-the history of all these is familiar.

But the consequences of the battle of Bunker Hill are greater than those of any conflict between the hostile armies of European powers. It was the first great battle of the Revolution; and not only the first blow, but the blow which determined the contest. It did not, indeed, put an end to the war, but in the then existing hostile feeling, the difficulties could only be referred to the arbitration of the sword. And one thing is certain; that after the New England troops had shown themselves able to face and repulse the regulars, it was decided that peace could never be established but upon the basis of the independence of the colonies. When the sun of that day went down, the event of independence was certain! Washington heard of the battle, he inquired if the militia had stood the fire of the regulars? And when told that they had not only stood the fire, but reserved their own till the enemy was within eight rods, and then poured it in with tremendous effect-" Then," exclaimed he, "the liberties of the country are safe!"

When

LESSON LXIV.

Lochinvar.-WALTER SCOTT.

none

Он, young Lochinvar is come out of the west!
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best,
And, save his good broad-sword, he weapon had
He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone!
So faithful in love and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar !

He stayed not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone,
He swam the Esk river where ford there was none-
But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate,

The bride had consented, the gallant came late;
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar !

So, boldly he enter'd the Netherby Hall,
'Mong bridemen and kinsmen, and brothers and all!
Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword-
For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word—
"Oh, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war?
Or to dance at our bridal? young Lord Lochinvar !"
"I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied:
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide!
And now am I come, with this lost love of mine,
To tread but one measure, drink one cup of wine!
There be maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far,
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar!"
The bride kiss'd the goblet; the knight took it up;
He quaff'd off the wine, and he threw down the cup!
She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh,-
With a smile on her lip, and a tear in her eye.
He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,—
"Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar.

So stately his form, and so lovely her face,
That never a hall such a galliard did grace!
While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume,
And the bride-maidens whisper'd, ""Twere better by far
To have match'd our fair cousin with young Lochinvar !"

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood

near;

So light to the croup the fair lady he swung,

So light to the saddle before her he sprung !

"She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; They'll have fleet steeds that follow!" quoth young Lochinvar.

There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the Netherby

clan;

Fosters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they

ran;

There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lea,
But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see!
So daring in love and so dauntless in war,
Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young

Lochinvar ?

LESSON LXV.

The Little Admiral.-THOMAS MOORE.

WHEN Love, who ruled as Admiral o'er
His rosy mother's isles of light,
Was cruising off the Paphian shore,
A sail at sunset hove in sight.
"A chase! a chase! my Cupids all!"
Said Love, the little Admiral.

Aloft the wingéd sailors sprung,

And, swarming up the mast like bees,
The snow-white sails expanding flung,
Like broad magnolias, to the breeze.
"Yo ho, yo ho, my Cupids all!"’
Said Love, the little Admiral.

The chase was o'er-the bark was caught-
The wingéd crew her freight explored;
And found, 't was just as Love had thought,
For all was contraband aboard.

"A prize, a prize, my Cupids all!"
Said Love, the little Admiral.

Safe stow'd in many a package there,
And labell'd slyly o'er as

"Glass,"

Were lots of all th' illegal ware

Love's Custom House forbids to pass. "O'erhaul, o'erhaul, my Cupids all!" Said Love, the little Admiral.

False curls they found, of every hue,
With rosy blushes, ready made;
And teeth of ivory, good as new,
For veterans in the smiling trade.
"Ho, ho! ho, ho! my Cupids all!"
Said Love, the little Admiral.

Mock sighs, too,-kept in bags for use,
Like breezes bought of Lapland seers,-
Lay ready here to be let loose,

When wanted, in young spinsters' ears. 'Ha, ha! ha, ha! my Cupids all !"

Said Love, the little Admiral.

False papers next on board were found,
Sham invoices of flames and darts,
Professedly for Paphos bound,

But meant for Hymen's golden marts. "For shame! for shame! my Cupids all !" Said Love, the little Admiral.

Nay, still to every fraud awake,

Those pirates, all Love's signals, knew, And hoisted oft his flag, to make

Rich wards and heiresses bring-to.*
"A foe! a foe! my Cupids all!"
Said Love, the little Admiral.

"This must not be," the boy exclaims,-
"In vain I rule the Paphian seas,
"If Love's and Beauty's sovereign names
"Are lent to cover frauds like these.
"Prepare, prepare, my Cupids all!”
Said Love, the little Admiral.

Each Cupid stood with lighted match-
A broadside struck the smuggling foe,
And swept the whole unhallowed batch
Of Falsehoods to the depths below.
"Huzza! huzza! my Cupids all!"
Said Love, the little Admiral.

• "TO BRING-To, to check the course of a ship."-FALCONER.

LESSON LXVI.

Fulton and His Invention.-MR. JUSTICE STORY.

I MYSELF have heard the illustrious inventor of the steamboat relate, in an animated and affecting manner, the history of his labours and discouragements. When, said he, I was building my first steamboat at New York, the project was viewed by the public, either with indifference or with contempt, as a visionary scheme. My friends, indeed, were civil, but they were shy. They listened with patience to my explanations, but with a settled cast of incredulity on their countenances. I felt the full force of

the lamentation of the poet,

"Truths would you teach, to save a sinking land,
All shun, none aid you, and few understand."

As I had occasion to pass daily to and from the building yard, while my boat was in progress, I have often loitered unknown near the idle groups of strangers, gathering in little circles, and heard various inquiries as to the object of this new vehicle. The language was uniformly that of scorn, or sneer, or ridicule. The loud laugh often rose at my expense; the dry jest, the wise calculation of losses and expenditures, the dull but endless repetition of the "Fulton Folly." Never did a single encouraging remark, a bright hope, or a warm wish, cross my path. Silence itself was but politeness, veiling its doubts, or hiding its reproaches.

At length the day arrived, when the experiment was to be put into operation. To me it was a most trying and interesting occasion. I invited many friends to go on board, to witness the first successful trip. Many of them did me the favour to attend, as a matter of personal respect; but it was manifest that they did it with reluctance, fearing to be the partners of my mortification, and not of my triumph. I was well aware, that, in my case, there were many reasons to doubt of my own success. The machinery was new and ill-made; many parts of it were constructed by mechanics unaccustomed to such work; and unexpected difficulties might reasonably be presumed to present themselves from other causes.