One are those tones, as from one heart ascending:

There laughs my home, sad stranger! where is thine?

SECOND SPEAKER.

--

Ask'st thou of mine? In solemn peace 't is lying,
Far o'er the deserts and the tombs away;

'Tis where I, too, am loved with love undying,

And fond hearts wait my step: but where are they?

Ask where the earth's departed have their dwelling;
Ask of the clouds, the stars, the trackless air!
I know it not, yet trust the whisper, telling

My lonely heart that love unchanged is there.

And what is home and where, but with the loving? -
Happy thou art, that so canst gaze on thine!

My spirit knoweth, in its weary roving,
That with the dead, where'er they be, is mine.

Go to thy home, rejoicing son and brother!
Bear in fresh gladness to the household scene
For me, too, watch the sister and the mother,
I will believe - but dark seas roll between.

FELICIA HEMANS. (1795-1835.)

XLII.-WARREN'S ADDRESS

AT THE BATTLE OF BUNKER'S HILL.

PEAL, n., a succession of loud sounds, DES'POT, n., a tyrant.

as of cannon, &c.

QUAIL, v. i., to sink in spirit.

MAR'TYRED, pp., put to death for the truth or for patriotism.

The e in the last syllable of leaden and heaven is not sounded.

STAND! the ground's your own, my braves!

Will ye give it up to slaves?

Will ye look for greener graves?

Hope ye mercy still?

acter.

ZEST, n., relish; flavor.

CON'SCIENCE, n., the faculty of know

ing right from wrong.

I-DE'AL, a., existing in idea.

TEM'PO-RAL, a., relating to time and

to things of this world.

EX-POUND'ER, n., an explainer.

CHAR-AC-TER-IS'TIC, a., marking char- IN-VENT'OR, n., one who invents.

EAR'NEST, a., zealous ; serious.
IN-GEN'U-OUS (-jen), a., frank.

Do not say umble for hum'ble; nootral for neutral; ideel for i-de'al; appint for ap-point'. Pronounce discern, diz-zern'.

1. THE career of Thomas Arnold, the distinguished instructor of youth, though teeming with the poetry

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.

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. 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 main 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.

4. In a word, his scheme was to call forth in the little world of school those capabilities which best fitted boys for their career in the great world. He was not only possessed of strength, but had the art of imparting it; he had the power to grasp a subject himself, and then ingraft it on the intellect of others.

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

indescribable zest was communicated to a young man's feeling about life; a strange joy came over him on discerning that he had the means of being useful, and thus of being happy. He was inspired with a humble, profound, and most religious consciousness that work 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.

6. The three ends at which Arnold aimed, in the order of their relative importance, were first and foremost to inculcate religious and moral principle, then gentlemanlike conduct, and lastly intellectual ability. To his mind, religion and politics -the doing one's duty to God and to man-were the two things really wanting. Unlike the schoolmasters of his early life, he held all the scholarship man ever had to be infinitely worthless in comparison with even a very hum. ble degree of spiritual advancement.

7. He loved tuition for itself, of which he fully felt the solemn responsibility and the ideal beauty, and which he was among the first to elevate to its true dignity. It was the destiny and business of his entire life. His own youthfulness 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.

8. 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 gentlemen, as reasonable beings, in whose conscience and common sense he might confide; and to this appeal to their nobler faculties, to his relying on their honor, the ingenuous youth responded 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 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."

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

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 abhorrence 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.

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!