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just like the first: he looked and looked, but, as there was nothing to be seen, he could see nothing.

16. "Is not that a pretty piece of stuff?" asked the two rogues; and they displayed and explained the handsome pattern, which was not there at all.

17. "I am not stupid!" thought the man; "it must be my good office, for which I am not fit. It is funny enough, but I must not let it be noticed." And so he praised the stuff which he did not see, and expressed his pleasure at the beautiful colors and charming pattern. "Yes, it is enchanting," he told the Emperor.

18. All the people in the town were talking of the gorgeous stuff. The Emperor wished to see it himself while it was still upon the loom. With a crowd of chosen men, among whom were also the two honest statesmen who had already been there, he went to the two cunning rogues, who were now weaving with might and main without fibre or thread.

19. "Is not that splendid?" said the two statesmen, who had already been there once. Does not your Majesty remark the pattern and the colors?" And they pointed to the empty loom, for they thought that the others could see the stuff.

20. "What's this?" thought the Emperor. "I can see nothing at all! That is terrible! Am I stupid? Am I not fit to be Emperor? That would be the most dreadful thing that could happen to me. O, it is very pretty!" he said aloud. It has our highest approbation." And he nodded in a contented way, for he would not say that he saw nothing.

21. The whole suite whom he had with him looked and looked, and saw nothing, any more than the rest; but, like the Emperor, they said, "That is pretty!" and counselled him to wear the splendid new clothes for the first time at the great procession that was presently to take place.

22. "It is splendid, excellent!" went from mouth to

--

mouth. On all sides there seemed to be general rejoicing, and the Emperor gave the rogues the title of Imperial Court Weavers.

23. The whole night before the morning on which the procession was to take place the rogues were up, and kept more than sixteen candles burning. The people could see that they were hard at work, completing the Emperor's new clothes. They pretended to take the stuff down from the loom; they made cuts in the air with great scissors; they sewed with needles without thread; and at last they said, "Now the clothes are ready!"

24. The Emperor came himself with his noblest cavaliers ; and the two rogues lifted up one arm as if they were holding something, and said, "See! here are the trousers! here is the coat! here is the cloak!" and so on. It is as light as a spider's web. One would think he had nothing on; but that is just the beauty of it.”

25. "Yes," said all the cavaliers, admiringly.

26. Will your Imperial Majesty please to condescend to take off your clothes?" said the rogues; “then we will put on you the new clothes here in front of the great mirror."

27. The Emperor took off his clothes, and the rogues pretended to put on him each new garment as it was ready; and the Emperor turned round and round before the mirror.

28. "O, how well you look! how capitally they fit!” said all. What a pattern! what colors! That is a splen

did dress!"

29. "They are standing outside with the canopy which is to be borne above your Majesty in the procession!" announced the head-master of the ceremonies.

30. "Well, I am ready," replied the Emperor. "Does it not suit me well?" And then he turned again to the mirror, for he wanted it to appear as if he contemplated his adornment with great interest.

31. The two chamberlains, who were to carry the train,

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stooped down with their hands toward the floor, just as if they were picking up the mantle; then they pretended to be holding something in the air. They did not dare to let it be noticed that they saw nothing.

32. So the Emperor went in procession under the rich canopy, and every one in the streets said, "How incomparable are the Emperor's new clothes! what a train he has to his mantle! how it fits him!" No clothes of the Emperor's had ever had such a success as these.

33. “But he has nothing on!" a little child cried out at last.

34. "Just hear what that innocent says!" said the father; and one whispered to another what the child had said.

35. "But he has nothing on!" said the whole people at length. That touched the Emperor, for it seemed to him that they were right; but he thought within himself, “I must go through with the procession." And so he held. himself a little higher, and the chamberlains held on tighter than ever, and carried the train which did not exist at all. Hans Christian Andersen.

I

LOVE to see the little goldfinch pluck

The groundsel's feathered seed, and twit, and twit ;

And, soon in bower of apple-blossoms perched,

Trim his gay suit, and pay us with a song.

I would not hold him prisoner for the world.

II.

The chimney-haunting swallow, too, my eye
And ear well pleases. I delight to see
How suddenly he skims the glassy pool,
How quaintly dips, and with a bullet's speed
Whisks by. I love to be awake, and hear
His morning song twittered to dawning day.

III.

But most of all, it wins my admiration
To view the structure of this little work,
A bird's-nest. Mark it well, within, without.
No tool had he that wrought, no knife to cut,
No nail to fix, no bodkin to insert,

No glue to join; his little beak was all,

And yet how neatly finished! What nice hand,
With every implement and means of art,
And twenty years' apprenticeship to boot,
Could make me such another?

IV.

Mark the bee;

She, too, an artist is, a cunning artist,
Who at the roof begins her golden work,

And builds without foundation. How she toils,
And still from bed to bed, from flower to flower,
Travels the livelong day! Ye idle drones,
Who rather pilfer than your bread obtain
By honest means like these, behold and learn
How grand, how fair, how honorable it is
To live by industry! The busy tribes

Of bees, so emulous, are daily fed,

Because they daily toil. And bounteous Heaven,

Still to the diligent and active good,

Their very labor makes the cause of health.

Hurdis.

XCVIII. RETURN OF BRITISH FUGITIVES,

I

1782.

VENTURE to prophesy there are those now living who will see this favored land amongst the most powerful on earth, — able, sir, to take care of herself, without resorting to that policy which is always so dangerous, though sometimes unavoidable, of calling in foreign aid.

2. Yes, sir, they will see her great in arts and in arms, her golden harvests waving over fields of immeasurable

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239

extent, her commerce penetrating the most distant seas, and her cannon silencing the vain boasts of those who now proudly affect to rule the waves.

3. But, sir, you must have men,—you cannot get along without them. Those heavy forests of valuable timber under which your lands are groaning must be cleared away. Those vast riches which cover the face of your soil, as well as those which lie hid in its bosom, are to be developed and gathered only by the skill and enterprise of

men.

4. Your timber, sir, must be worked up into ships, to transport the productions of the soil from which it has been cleared. Then you must have commercial men and commercial capital, to take off your productions, and find the best markets for them abroad. Your great want, sir, is the want of men; and these you must have, and will have speedily, if you are wise,

5. Do you ask how you are to get them? Open your doors, sir, and they will come in! The population of the Old World is full to overflowing. That population is ground, too, by the oppressions of the governments under which they live. Sir, they are already standing on tiptoe upon their native shores, and looking to your coasts with a wistful and longing eye.

6. They see here a land blessed with natural and political advantages, which are not equalled by those of any other country upon earth, a land on which a gracious Providence hath emptied the horn of abundance, a land over which Peace hath now stretched forth her white wings, and where Content and Plenty lie down at every door.

7. Sir, they see something still more attractive than all this. They see a land in which Liberty hath taken up her abode, that Liberty whom they had considered as a fabled goddess, existing only in the fancies of poets. They see here a real divinity, her altars rising on every hand, throughout these happy States; her glories chanted by