currence

of common life, was not one of stirring incident, or ro-mănce'; it consisted in laboring to his best in his sacred vocation. Born in England in 1795, he was educated at Winchester College, and in 1827 became head-master of Rugby School. He died in 1842, at the early age of forty-seven.c

2. His professional life began at Rugby; and he plunged into fourteen years of uninterrupted toil. Holding labor to be his appointed lot on earth, he harnessed himself cheerfully to his work. A craving for rest was to him a sure sign, that neither mind nor body retained its pristine vigor; and he determined, while blessed with health, to proceed like the camel in the wilderness, and die, with his burden on his back. aut His characteristic trait was intense earnestness. He felt life keenly; its responsibilities as well as its enjoyments. His very pleasures were earnest. In nothing was he indifferent or neutral. ▲

3. His principles were few: the fear of God was the beginning of his wisdom, and his object was not so much to teach knowledge, as the means of acquiring it; to furnish, in a word, the key to the temple. He desired to awaken the intellect of each individual boy, and contended that the mam movement must come from within, and not from without, the pupil; and that all that could be should be done by him, and not for him.

to call forth in the

4. In a word, his scheme way to res little world of school those capabilities which best course

fitted boys for their career in the great world. He but had the art of

was not only possessed of stres grasp a subject him.

imparting it; he had the power

self, and then ingraft it on the intellect of others.

sche

5. His pupils were made to feel that there was a work for them to do; that their happiness, as well as their duty, lay in doing that work well. Hence an

*

Alice told

indescribable zest was communicated to a young man's feeling about life; a strange joy came over him on dis- seem cerning that he had the means of being useful, and thus of being happy. He was ispired with a humble,

that work pant lice is the appointed calling of man on earth; the element in which his nature is ordained to develop itself, and in which his progressive advancement toward heaven' is to lie.

profound, and most religious consciousness ng

resul

23

12ked

6. The three ends at which Arnold aimed, in the order of their relative importance, were first and foremost to culcate religious and moral principle, then gentlemanlike conduct, and lastly intellectual ability. il To his mind, religion and politics- the doing one's duty to God and to man- were the two things really

wise

wanting. Unlike the schoolmasters of his early lifeally

he held all the scholarship man ever had to be infi

less

compared.

nitely worthless in comparison with even a very humek ble degree of spiritual advancement.

More

7. He loved tuition for itself, of which he fully felt accountable the solemn responsibility and the ideal beauty, and which he was among the first to elevate to its true bate emtoar na dignity. It was the destiny and business of his entire life. His own youthfulness of temperament of temperament and vigor fitted him better for the society of the young than of the old; he enjoyed their spring of mind and body, and by personal intercourse hoped to train up and mould to good their pliant minds, while wax to receive, and marble to retain.keep fum. He led his pupils to place implicit trust in his decisions, and to esteem his approbation as their highest reward. He gained his end by treating them as

8.

mer

shak

gentlemen, as reasonable be confide; and to this a in whose conscience o moused;

and common sense he might

peal to their nobler faculties, to his relying on their honor, the ingenuous youth responded worthily. restrict

worthily..

9. Once, at Laleham, when teaching a rather dull
boy, he spoke somewhat sharply to him, on which the
pupil looked up in his face, and said, "Why do you
speak so angrily, sir?—indeed, I am doing the best I
can." Arnold at once acknowledged his error, and
sorrow
expressed his regret for it. Years afterward he used
to tell the story to his children, and added, "I never
felt so much in my life: that look and that speech I
have never forgotten."

an himself.

10. One of his principal holds was in his boy-sermons; that is, in sermons to which his young congrele gation could and did listen, and of which he was the ete absolute inventor. The secret of that power lay in its intimate connection with the with both spiritual and temporal authority, and truths/its and truths divine seemed mended by the tongue of an expounder whose discourse was a living was a living one,doctrine in action, -and where precept was enforced by example.

fortell

Danversation

order

spoke

11. His was the exhibition of a simple, earnest man,
who practiced what he preached, who probed the
depths of life, and expressed strongly and plainly his
love of goodness and
abhorce of sin. There was,
indeed, a moral supremacy in him; his eyes looked
into the heart, and all that was base and mean cowered
before him; and, when he preached, a sympathetic
thrill ran through his audience.

having dynat

XLIV. - THE GOOD GREAT MAN.

CORSE, n., a corpse.
RE-NOUNCE', v. t., to cast off.

E'QUA-BLE, a., even; smooth.

OB-TAIN', v. t., to get; to gain.

Sound the or in worth like er in her; the th in with as in breathe.

FIRST SPEAKER.

How seldom, friend, a good great man inherits
Honor and wealth, with all his worth and pains!

It seems a story from the world of spirits
When any man obtains that which he merits,
Or any merits that which he obtains.

SECOND SPEAKER.

For shame, my friend!-renounce this idle strain !
What wouldst thou have a good great man obtain?
Wealth, title, dignity, a golden chain,

Or heap of corses which his sword hath slain?
Goodness and greatness are not means, but ends.
Hath he not always treasures, always friends,
The good great man? Three treasures,-love, and light,
And calm thoughts, equable as infant's breath;
And three fast friends, more sure than day or night,-
Himself, his Maker, and the Angel Death.

VAUNTED `(au like a in far), pp., BUG'BEAR, n., an imaginary terror. boasted.

| IR-RE-SPONʼSI-BLE, a., not answerable

Do not say air for are (like r); govunment for gov'ern-ment; issoo for is'sue.

1. IF we wholly perish with the body, what an imposture is this whole system of laws, manners and usages, on which human society is founded! If we wholly perish with the body, those maxims of charity, patience, justice, honor, gratitude and friendship, which sages have taught and good men have practiced, what are they but empty words, possessing no real and binding efficacy?

2. Why should we heed them, if in this life only we have hope? Speak not of duty. What can we owe to the dead, to the living, to ourselves, if all are, or will be, nothing? Who shall dictate our duty, if not our own pleasures, if not our own passions? Speak not of morality. It is a mere chimera, a bugbear of human invention, if the life of man terminates with the grave.

3. If we must wholly perish, what to us are the sweet ties of kindred? what the tender names of parent, child, sister, brother, husband, wife, or friend? The characters of a dra'ma are not more illusive! We have no ancestors, no descendants; since succession can not be predicated of nothingness. Would we honor the illustrious dead? How absurd to honor that which has no existence !

4. Would we take thought for posterity? How frivolous to concern ourselves for those whose end, like our own, must soon be annihilation! Have we made a promise? How can it bind nothing to nothing? Perjury is but a jest. The last injunctions of the dying, what sanctity have they, more than the last sound of a chord that is snapped, of an instru ment that is broken?

an

5. To sum up all: If we must wholly perish, then is obedience to the laws but an insensate servitude; rulers and magistrates are but the phantoms which popular imbecility has raised up; justice is an unwarrantable infringement upon the liberty of men, imposition, a usurpation; the law of marriage is a vain scruple; modesty, a prejudice; honor and probity, such stuff as dreams are made of; and the most heartless cruelties, the blackest crimes, are but the legitimate sports of man's irresponsible nature!

6. Here is the issue to which the vaunted philosophy of unbelievers must inevitably lead! Here is