LXXVIII.—PATRIOTISM.

BREATHES there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,

"This is my own, my native land?” Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned,

From wandering on a foreign strand?
If such there breathes, go, mark him well:
For him no minstrel raptures swell.

High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim,
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentered all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust from which he sprung,
Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.

O Caledonia! stern and wild,
Meet nurse for a poetic child,

Land of brown heath and shaggy wood,
Land of the mountain and the flood,
Land of my sires, what mortal hand
Can e'er untie the filial band
That knits me to thy rugged strand?

MELANCHOLY.

SEE yonder poor, o'er-labored wight,
So abject, mean, and vile,
Who begs a brother of the earth
To give him leave to toil;
And see his lordly fellow-worm
The poor petition spurn,
Unmindful though a weeping wife
And helpless offspring mourn.

-Scott.

O death! the poor man's dearest friend,

The kindest and the best!

Welcome the hour my aged limbs

Are laid with thee at rest!

The great, the wealthy, fear thy blow,

From pomp and pleasure torn,
But, oh! a blest relief to those

That weary-laden mourn!

-Burns.

LXXIX.-TRUE POLITENESS.

THE terms lady and gentlewoman are often in our mouths, but the true meaning of them is but little understood.

In this privileged land, where we acknowledge no distinctions but what are founded on character or manners, she is a lady who, to inbred modesty and refinement, adds a scrupulous attention to the rights and feelings of others. Let her worldly possessions be great or small, let her occupations be what they may, such an one is a lady,—a gentlewoman; whilst, on the other hand, the person who is bold, coarse, boisterous, and inattentive to the rights and feelings of others, let her possessions be ever so great, and her style of living and dress be ever so fashionable, will always be looked upon as a vulgar woman. Thus we may see a lady sewing for her livelihood, and a vulgar woman presiding over a most expensive establishment.

A well-bred lady must carry her good manners everywhere with her. It is not a thing that can be laid aside and put on at pleasure. True politeness is uniform in every situation of life, accompanied by a calm self-possession which belongs to a noble simplicity of purpose; and, unless it is cultivated and exercised, it will never become a part of one's self. If it is attempted to be assumed for some particular purpose, it will sit awkwardly, and fail at the utmost need.

The charm which true politeness sheds over a person, though not easily described, is felt by all hearts and responded to by the best feelings of our nature. It is a talisman of great power to smooth our way along the rugged paths of life, and to turn toward us the best side of all we meet.

LXXX.-THE CELESTIAL Army.

I STOOD by the open casement,
And looked upon the night,
And saw the westward-going stars
Pass slowly out of sight.

Slowly the bright procession

Went down the gleaming arch,
And my soul discerned the music
Of their long triumphant march,

Till the great celestial army,
Stretching far beyond the poles,
Became the eternal symbol

Of the mighty march of souls.

Onward! forever onward,

Red Mars led down his clan,
And the moon, like a mailed maiden,
Was riding in the van.

And some were bright in beauty,

And some were faint and small

But these might be in their great height,
The noblest of them all.

Downward! forever downward,

Behind earth's dusky shore,

They passed into the unknown night-
They passed, and were no more.

No more! O, say not so!

And downward is not just;

For the sight is weak and the sense is dim
That looks through the heated dust.

The stars and the mailed moon,

Though they seem to fall and die,
Still sweep with their embattled lines
An endless reach of sky.

And though the hills of death
May hide the bright array,

The marshaled brotherhood of souls
Still keeps its upward way.

Upward! forever upward!

I see their march sublime,
And hear the glorious music
Of the conquerors of time.

And long let me remember
That the palest fainting one
May unto Divine wisdom be
A bright and blazing sun.

-T. Buchanan Read.

LXXXI.-THOUGHTS FROM GŒTHE..

EVERY BODY can detect an error but not a lie. We do not possess what we do not understand. There are two peaceful powers-justice and fitness. We are only really alive when we enjoy the good will of others.

Unlimited activity of whatever kind must at last end in bankruptcy.

The best result to be derived from history is the enthusiasm it kindles.

A great mistake-to hold one's self too high or rate one's self too cheap.

K. N. E.-22.

Nobody looks at the rainbow which has lasted a quarter of an hour.

All that is wise has been thought already; we must try, however, to think it again.

Let memory fail as long as you can rely upon your judgment at a moment's notice.

Love of truth shows itself in discovering and appreciating what is good, wherever it may exist.

Let him who would have me for a listener speak positively; of the problematic, I have enough within myself. Imagination is only regulated by art, more especially by poetry. There is nothing more frightful than imagination devoid of taste.

I hold my peace concerning many things, as I do not wish to perplex my fellow-men, and am content to see them rejoicing at what irritates me.

FROM LONGFELLOW.

THE sunshine of life is made up of few beams that are bright all the time.

Men of genius are often dull in society; as the blazing meteor, when it descends to earth, is only a stone.

How small a portion of our lives is that we truly enjoy. In youth, we are looking forward for things that are to come. In old age, we look backward to things that are past.

Many readers judge of the power of a book by the shock it gives their feelings, as some savage tribes determine the power of muskets by their recoil, that being the best which fairly prostrates the purchaser.

The natural alone is permanent. Fantastic idols may be worshiped for awhile, but at length they are overturned by the continual and silent progress of truth, as the grim statues of Copan have been pushed from their pedestals by the growth of forest trees, whose seeds were sown by the wind in the ruined walls.