eaves of the several lodges sat singers, players upon the rude instruments of the land, and glib talkers, who waxed eloquent, and gesticulated with exceeding grace. 15. Footsteps rustled before and behind me. I stole into the thicket, and saw lovers wandering together, locked in each other's embrace, and saw friends go hand-in-hand, conversing in low tones, or perhaps mute, with an impressive air of the most complete tranquillity. The night-blooming cereus laid its ivory urn open to the moonlight, and a myriad of crickets chirped in one continuous jubilee. 16. Voices of merriment were wafted down to me; and, stealing onward toward the great meadow by the stream, where the sleepless inhabitants of the valley held high carnival, I saw the most dignified chiefs of Méha sporting like children, while the children capered like imps, and the whole community seemed bewitched with the glorious atmosphere of that particular night. Mon'o dy, a species of poem of a mournful character. Tŏm'těm, a large flat drum. LESSON LV. SELECTIONS FROM MOORE. Thomas Moore was born in Dublin on the 28th of May, 1779. He was the son of humble and respectable parents. He was sent to the Grammar School of Samuel White, and in 1795 to the University of Dublin. At the University his poetic genius displayed itself. There he commenced the translation of the Odes of Anacreon. He took his degree as Bachelor of Arts in 1798, and in 1799 he left the University. He afterward studied law in the Middle Temple, London. In 1801 he published his translation of the Odes of Anacreon. Other poems followed, among which are Lalla Rookh, The Loves of the Angels, Irish Melodies, etc. He died on the 26th of February, 1852. WHE WHILE HISTORY'S MUSE. HILE History's Muse the memorial was keeping Beside her the Genius of Erin stood weeping, But oh! how the tear in her eyelids grew bright, She saw History write With a pencil of light, That illum'ed the whole volume, her Wellington's name! 2. "Hail, Star of my Isle !" said the Spirit, all sparkling For though Heroes I've number'd, unblest was their lot, One dishonoring blot On the wreath that encircles my Wellington's name! 3. "Yet still the last crown of thy toils is remaining, The grandest, the purest, even thou hast yet known; Far prouder to heal the deep wounds of thy own. Of her tears and her blood, Let the rainbow of Hope be her Wellington's name!" DEAR HARP OF MY COUNTRY. 4. Dear Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee, 5. Dear Harp of my Country! farewell to thy numbers! This sweet wreath of song is the last we shall twine. Go, sleep with the sunshine of Fame on thy slumbers, Till touch'd by some hand less unworthy than mine; If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover, Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone; I was but as the wind, passing heedlessly over, And all the wild sweetness I waked was thy own. SWISS AIR. 6. But wake the trumpet's blast again, O War! when Truth thy arm employs, Than the blest sound of fetters breaking, FROM LIFE WITHOUT FREEDOM. 7. From life without freedom, oh! who would not fly? And oh! even if Freedom from this world be driven, FAREWELL. 9. Farewell!—but whenever you welcome the hour To the highest top sparkle each heart and each cup, 11. Let Fate do her worst; there are relics of joy, Bright dreams of the past which she cannot destroy, Děs' ti ny (myth.), the Three Fates; the supposed powers which preside over human life, and determine its circumstances and duration. Wel' ling ton (first Duke of), a cele brated British general and statesman, born in Dublin, Ireland, on the 1st of May, 1769. LESSON LVI. THE LAST DAYS OF FREDERICK II. OF PRUSSIA. BY LOUISE MÜHLBACH. Louise Mühlbach, born January 5, 1814, was the daughter of the chief burgomaster of the city of Neubrandenburg, Prussia. Her real name was Clara Müller. At the age of twenty-five she married Theodore Mundt, a novelist of some repute, who left her a widow when she was forty-seven years old. Her first novel appeared about the year 1839, and was received with so much favor, that she soon followed it with others, and in a short time ranked with the best writers of the age. She is particularly successful as a historical novelist. Some of her most popular works are Bernthal, Joseph II. and his Court, The Empress Josephine, Marie Antoinette and her Son, Frederick the Great and his Court, Goethe and Schiller, Andreas Hofer, etc. She died September 26, 1873. HOW OW long and dreary was the year from the spring of 1785 to the spring of 1786, to Frederick the Second, the old philosopher of Sans-Souci, who day by day grew more hopeless, and into whose ear was daily whispered the awful tidings, "You must die!" He did not close his ears to these mutterings of age and decrepitude, nor did he fear death. For him life had been a great battle-a continuous conflict. He had ever faced death bravely, and had fought against all sorts of enemies; and truly, the worst and most dangerous among them were not those who opposed him with visible weapons, and on the battle-field. 2. It is easier to conquer on the field of battle, than to combat prejudices and extirpate abuses. And after the days of real battle were over, Frederick was compelled to wage incessant war against these evils. Commerce flourished under his rule-the fruits of Prussian industry found a market in the most distant lands. The soldiers of war had become soldiers of peace, who were now warring for the prosperity of the people. This warfare was certainly, at times, a little severe, and the good and useful had to be introduced by force. But what of that? 3. Were the potatoes less nutritious because the peasants of Silesia were driven into the fields by armed soldiers and com |