Touched with the beauteous tints of dawning life(He's got a knife!)

Thou enviable being!

No storms, no clouds, in thy blue sky foreseeing, Play on, play on,

My elfin John!

Toss the light ball-bestride the stick

(I knew so many cakes would make him sick!) With fancies buoyant as the thistle down, Prompting the face grotesque, and antic brisk, With many a lamb-like frisk,

(He's got the scissors, snipping at your gown!)

Thou pretty opening rose!

(Go to your mother, child, and wipe your nose!) Balmy, and breathing music like the south, (He really brings my heart into my mouth!) Fresh as the morn, and brilliant as its star,(I wish that window had an iron bar!) Bold as the hawk, yet gentle as the dove,— (I'll tell you what, my love!

I can not write, unless he's sent above!)

LESSON CLX.

THE CATARACT OF NIAGARA.

The following Dream was written by that inimitable wag, THOMAS HOOD, of England. As a faithful picture of the rapids and fall of Niagara, it is as remarkable, as for the relief afforded by the catastrophe.

Who does not know that dreadful gulf where Niaga'ra falls;

Where eagle unto eagle screams, to vulture vulture calls; Where down beneath, Despair and Death in liquid darkness grope,

And upwards, on the foam there shines a rainbow without Hope:

While, hung with clouds of fear and doubt, the unreturning wave

Suddenly gives an awful plunge, like life into the grave; And many a hapless mortal there hath dived to bale or bliss ;

One-only one-hath ever lived to rise from that abyss! O Heaven! it turns me now to ice with chill of fear

extreme,

To think of my frail bark adrift on that tumultuous stream!

In vain with desperate sinews, strung by love of life and light,

I urged that coffin, my canoe, against the current's

might:

On, on-still on-direct for doom, the river rushed in

force,

And fearfully the stream of Time raced with it in its

course.

My eyes I closed-I dared not look the way towards the goal;

But still I viewed the horrid close, and dreamt it in my soul ;

Plainly, as through transparent lids, I saw the fleeting shore,

And lofty trees, like winged things, flit by forevermore;

Plainly but with no prophet sense-I heard the sullen sound,

The torrent's voice-and felt the mist, like death-sweat, gathering round.

O agony! O life! my home!-and those that made it

sweet

Ere I could pray, the torrent lay beneath my very feet. With frightful whirl, more swift than thought, I passed the dizzy edge,

Bound after bound, with hideous bruise, I dashed from ledge to ledge,

From crag to crag-in speechless pain-from midnight deep to deep;

I did not die-but anguish stunned my senses into sleep. How long entranced, or whither dived, no clue I have to find:

At last the gradual light of life came dawning o'er my

mind,

And through my brain there thrilled a cry-a cry as shrill as birds'

Of vulture or of eagle kind—but this was set to words:"It's Edgar Huntley in his cap and nightgown, I declares!

He's been a walking in his sleep, and pitched right down the stairs!"

LESSON CLXI.

LORD THURLOW'S REPLY TO THE DUKE OF GRAF. TON.

In speaking the following reply, the pupil should read or recite the introduction also. The piece requires an advanced pupil, of dignified manners and great self-possession.

EDWARD THURLOW was an English lawyer, who rose by his talents to the dignity of Lord High Chancellor of England. BUTLER, in his Reminiscences, says, "It was my good fortune to hear his celebrated reply to the Duke of Grafton, who reproached Lord Thurlow with his plebeian extraction, and his recent admission into the peerage. His lordship had spoken too often, and began to be heard with a civil but visible impatience, and, under these circumstances, he was attacked in the manner we have mentioned. Lord Thurlow rose from the woolsack, and advanced slowly to the place from which the chancellor generally addresses the House of Lords, and then, fixing on the Duke the look of Jove when he has grasped the thunder, he said, (in a level tone of voice.)

"I am amazed at the attack which the noble Duke has made on me." (Then, raising his voice.) "Yes, my lords, I am amazed at his Grace's speech. The noble Duke can not look before him, behind him, or on either side of him, without seeing some noble peer, who owes his seat in this House to his successful exertions in the profession to which I belong. Does he not feel that it is as honorable to owe it to these, as to being the accident of an accident?-To all these noble lords, the language of the noble Duke is as applicable and as insulting as it is to myself. But I don't fear to meet it single and alone. No one venerates the peerage more than I do,-but, my lords, I must say

that the peerage solicited me,—not I the peerage. Nay, more,- -I can say, and will say, that as a peer of parliament, as Speaker of this right honorable house, as keeper of the great seal,-as guardian of his majesty's conscience,--as lord high chancellor of England,— nay, even in that character alone, in which the noble Duke would think it an affront to be considered,—but which character none can deny me,—as a MAN—I am at this moment as respectable,-I beg leave to add,— I am at this time as much respected, as the proudest peer I now look down upon."

LESSON CLXII.

THE LEPER.

The following affecting description of our Savior's miracle, is from the pen of N. P. WILLIS, who has in more instances than one thus beautifully illustrated the sacred page. The Editor only regrets, that the nature of this selection prevents the insertion of the whole poem.

"Room for the leper!" And aside they stood—
Matron, and child, and pitiless manhood—all
Who met him on his way-and let him pass.
And onward through the open gate he came,
A leper with the ashes on his brow,
Sackcloth about his loins, and on his lip
A covering, stepping painfully and slow,
And with a difficult utterance, like one
Whose heart is with an iron nerve put down,
Crying "Unclean! Unclean!"

And he went forth-alone! not one of all
The many whom he loved, nor she whose name
Was woven in the fibres of the heart

Breaking within him now, to come and speak
Comfort unto him. Yea-he went his way,