only after the young hero had passed through all his adventures and great perils and dangers, and was about returning to his home again, that Minerva let fall her disguise, and revealed herself to the astonished eyes of Telemachus as a beautiful and youthful goddess (this story is, of course, of the times of the Grecian divinities). Just before that, Telemachus had fallen in with his father, but never knew him. He appeared to be a stranger, wandering about in the town; and the heart of the young man warmed towards him, he knew not why. He was waiting for a vessel; and, when it was ready, he went on board, and sailed straight to Ithaca, his island home. Telemachus, too, was waiting for his vessel; and he arrived soon after at the same little island. There, Ulysses, disguised as a beggar, was recognized only by his old faithful dog Argos, almost blind from age, which crept to his master's feet, fawned around him, and then laid down and died! Ulysses then made himself known to Telemachus, and to Eumæus, the faithful old shepherd of his flocks.

Penelope, the wife and mother, they found busy at

her work, the tapestry, which she had woven and unwoven again and again since Ulysses had been away; at least, so long as some admirers had annoyed her in her husband's absence, saying that he must be dead, and that she might marry again. Penelope always replied to them, that, when her work was finished, she would marry one of them. But she took great care to unravel at night all that she had done through the day: so the tapestry never was completed!

It would seem hardly necessary to repeat this story of Telemachus, as almost every young person in studying French reads this as a text-book; but we wished more particularly to say how this story came to be written. It was composed by one of the noblest because best. men that ever lived, not only in France, but in the world. He was appointed tutor to the dauphin, who was heir to the throne, the Duke of Burgundy, son of the king Louis XIV. Louis XIV. was one of the most renowned of all the kings who have ever reigned in France; his reign

being very brilliant and celebrated.

The young

prince, therefore, was brought up in all luxury and splendor; and although he was the heir, and perhaps on this very account, his passions and his temper became so greatly indulged and ungovernable, that no person could live with him, nor be about him, with any comfort or pleasure. This was a terrible prospect for one who might one day be king. But the king appointed Fénelon, that best and noblest man as was said,

because he was so good

and virtuous, — to be the guide and instructor of the young dauphin. For him, Fénelon wrote the story of Telemachus, to show him how a prince ought to live, and to be able to govern his passions, and to learn how to rule his kingdom; as Telemachus, too, was a prince, the son of a king, and heir to the throne: but he was disposed sometimes to fall into foolish things; and he had learned much from the wise Mentor, or Minerva, who accompanied him.

This story had a wonderful effect, or the wise and gentle Fénelon himself had a wonderful influence; for the young duke, from being excitable and

ill-tempered, as he had been, became, like his tutor, one of the mildest, gentlest, and most amiable of human beings. He was growing to be a very noble, generous, and splendid young man; and the whole nation was looking forward with happiness to his being one day their king: yet, when he was but seventeen years old, he died, to the great sorrow and grief of all the people, as well as of his own family and friends.

CHAPTER XVII.

ENGLAND AND AMERICA.

- THE ANGLO-SAXONS.

We now come to England, our mother-land. When we, Americans, look for our ancient history, we have to look there. What concerned her in times past concerns us. We, as well as she, are indebted to the Romans for our civilization; and what took place in those earliest days belongs to ourselves as well as to England. Her history in past

centuries, the great men or heroes who figured upon the scenes, and the events which transpired there, are those through which we also are united with the ages past. Are we not the same people, the Anglo-Saxon race, — having the same origin, and the same identical language? Does not the tie of nature bind us, the relationship of mother and