LESSON XXVII.

DISTANT VIEW OF THE OCEAN.-G. D. PRENTICE.

[The reader may note the verses in this piece which exemplify Personification. See page 250.]

1. How beautiful! from his blue throne on high,

The sun looks downward with a face of love

Upon the silent waters! and a sky,

Lovelier than that which lifts its arch above,
Down the far depths of ocean, like a sheet

Of flame, is trembling! the wild tempests cease
To wave their cloudy pinions. Oh, 't is sweet

To gaze on Ocean in his hour of peace.

2. "T is sweet,. 't is sweet to gaze upon the deep,

And muse upon its mysteries. There it rolled,
Ere yet that glorious sun had learned to sweep
The blue profound, and bathe the heavens in gold;
The morning stars, as up the skies they came,

Heard their first music o'er the ocean rung,
And saw the first flash of their new-born flame,
Back from its depths in softer brightness flung!
has swept

3. And there it rolls! Age after age

Down, down the eternal cataract of Time;
Men after men on earth's cold bosom slept;

Still, there it rolls, unfading and sublime!
As bright those waves their sunny sparkles fling,
As sweetly now the bending heaven they kiss,
As when the Holy Spirit's brooding wing

Moved o'er the waters of the vast abyss!

4. There, there it rolls. I've seen the clouds unfurl Their raven banner from the stormy west;

I've seen the wrathful Tempest Spirit hurl

His blue-forked lightnings at the Ocean's breast;The storm-cloud passed, the sinking wave was hushed; Those budding isles were glittering fresh and fair; Serenely bright the peaceful waters blushed,

And heaven seemed painting its own beauties there!

5. Ocean, farewell! Upon thy mighty shore,
I loved in childhood's fairy hours to dwell;
But I am wasting, life will soon be o'er,

-

And I shall cease to gaze on thee: -- farewell!
Thou still wilt glow as fair as now, the sky
Still arch as proudly o'er thee, evening steal
Along thy bosom with as soft a dye,-

All be as now, but I shall cease to feel.

6. The evening mists are on their silent way,
And thou art fading; faint thy colors blend
With the last tinges of the dying day,

And deeper shadows up the skies ascend.
Farewell! farewell, the night is coming fast;
In deeper tones thy wild notes seem to swell
Upon the cold wings of the rising blast;
I go, I go, dear Ocean,-- fare thee well!

LESSON XXVIII.

EXTRACT FROM THE LIFE OF WASHINGTON.- CASKET. [Historical Narration.-Rule 1, p. 153.]

1. Considered as a compound of whatever is most estimable and magnificent in man,-corporeal majesty and strength, united to unusual symmetry and comeliness of person; intellectual penetration, vigor, and decision; unsullied purity and moral

grandeur, the subject of this article is without a parallel in history or tradition. In no other individual, ancient or modern, has such transcendent greatness been found associated with such exalted virtue. Perfection does not belong to humanity; but the nearest approach to it that mortal has attained, is believed to have been in him. A patriot without blemish; a statesman without guile; a leader of armies without ambition, except that noble and virtuous ambition which excites its possessor to become the greatest and the best; a magistrate with out severity, yet inflexible in uprightness; a citizen exemplary in the discharge of every duty; a man in whose character weakness and faults appeared but as specks on the brightness of the sun; who had religion without austerity; dignity without pride; modesty without diffidence; courage without rashness; politeness without affectation; affability without familiarity;— such was the illustrious person whose life we now briefly attempt to portray.

2. When at the age of twenty-one, he greatly distinguished himself by his hardihood and intrepidity, perseverance and address, in bearing a dispatch to a French officer of distinction, through an extensive tract of unexplored country, planted with tribes of hostile Indians, and conducting all the important business appertaining to it.

3. He next presents himself to our view on the field of Braddock. We there behold him in the midst of carnage, daring all that man can dare, and performing whatever is in the compass of human power. When the commander-in-chief, and every other officer of rank had fallen, he alone, protected by Heaven for the fulfillment of great ulterior purposes, is left to contend with victorious savages, and to conduct to a place of safety the remnant of the army. All this he performed in a manner indicative of his exalted destiny.

4. And when the defensive war against the oppressing

ence.

usurpations of Great Britain, had been agreed on by that august and enlightened body who proclaimed our independGeorge Washington was unanimously appointed commander-in-chief of the armies of America. As it was effected without rivalship or opposition, it did not awaken either envy or jealousy. It was the result of an intuitive perception and universal acknowledgment, that he was, if not the only, certainly the most suitable personage for the momentous trust. It was a great act of national homage, spontaneously paid to pre-eminent endowments.

2. The qualities, which, as a warrior, Washington manifested most strongly during the Revolutionary conflict, were, a perception intuitively clear; a coolness at no time disturbed; a firmness that nothing could shake; and a practical judgment that rarely erred. When the case was doubtful, he skillfully took advantage of every favorable circumstance that presented itself, and was fertile in his resources for the creation of circumstances, when they did not occur. It was by this multifarious exercise of his genius, that he preserved his army from the sword of an enemy, overwhelming in force, and achieved the freedom and independence of his country.

LESSON XXIX.

AN EXTRACT FROM CATO'S SENATE. ADDISON. [Characters-MARCUS, CATO, DECIUS, SEMPRONIUS, and LUCIUS. See Personation, p. 200.]

[Enter Marcus.]

Marc. Fathers, this moment, as I watched the gate, Lodged on my post, a herald is arrived

From Cæsar's a camp; and with him, comes old Decius,

Cato, see page 86.

The Roman knight. He carries in his looks
Impatience, and demands to speak with Cato.
Cato. By your permission, fathers

bid him enter.

[Exit Marcus.]

Decius was once my friend; but other prospects
Have loosed those ties, and bound him fast to Cæsar.
His message may determine our resolves.

To Cato's slaughtered friends, it would be welcome.
Are not your orders to address the senate?

Dec. My business is with Cato.
The straits to which you're driven;

Cæsar sees

and, as he knows Cato's high worth, is anxious for your life.

Cato. My life is grafted on the fate of Rome. Would he save Cato, bid him spare his country. Tell your dictator this; and tell him, too, Cato Disdains a life, which he has power to offer.

Dec. Rome, and her senators, submit to Cæsar;
Her generals, and her consuls, are no more,

Who checked his conquests, and denied his triumphs.
Why will not Cato be this Cæsar's friend?

Cato. Those very reasons thou hast urged, forbid it.
Dec. Cato, I have orders to expostulate,

And reason with you, as from friend to friend;
Think on the storm that gathers o'er your head,
And threatens every hour to burst upon it;

Still may you stand high in your country's honors;—
Do but comply, and make your peace with Cæsar,
Rome will rejoice, and cast its

As on the second of mankind.

eyes on Cato.

Casar, see page 85.