LESSON LXX. THE BELEAGUERED CITY. Por tent'ous, foreshadowing | Be lea'guered, surrounded by ill; ominous. an army; besieged. I HAVE read, in some old, marvelous tale, That a midnight host of spectres pale 2. Beside the Moldau's rushing stream, 3. White as a sea-fog, landward bound, 4. No other voice nor sound was there, 5. But when the old cathedral bell Proclaimed the morning prayer, 6. Down the broad valley fast and far Up rose the glorious morning star,- 7. I have read, in the marvelous heart of man, That strange and mystic scroll, That an army of phantoms vast and wan 8. Encamped beside Life's rushing stream, 9. Upon its midnight battle-ground And, with a sorrowful, deep sound, 10. No other voice nor sound is there, 11. And when the solemn and deep church-beil The midnight phantoms feel the spell, 12. Down the broad Vale of Tears afar H. W. LONGFELLOW. THE ears, the sense of hearing, or the doctrine of sounds. Päl läʼdi o, an illustrious Ital ian architect. Ex plōre', to seek for; to range over for the purpose of dis covery. Trans por ta'tion, the act of Ep'och, time; date; era, age. HE perfection of the providence for childhood is easily understood. The care which covers tho seed of the tree under tough husks and stony cases provides for the human plant the mother's breast and tho father's house. The size of the nestler is comic, and its tiny beseeching weakness is compensated perfectly by the happy patronizing look of the mother, who is a sort of high reposing Providence towards it. 2. Welcome to the parents the puny struggler, strong in his weakness, his little arms more irresistible than the soldier's, his lips touched with persuasion which Chatham and Pericles had not. His hearty lamentations when he lifts up his voice on high, or, more beautiful, sobbing child,—the face all liquid grief, as he tries to swallow his vexation,-soften all hearts to pity, and the to mirthful and clamorous compassion. The small despot asks so little that all reason and all nature are on his side. 3. His ignorance is more charming than all knowledge, and his little sins more bewitching than any virtue. His flesh is angels' flesh, all alive. "Infancy," said Coleridge, "presents body and spirit in unity; the body is all animated." All day, between his three or four sleeps, he cooes like a pigeon-house, sputters, and spurs and puts on his faces of importance; and when he fasts, the little Pharisee fails not to sound his trumpet before him. By lamplight he delights in shadows on the wall; by daylight in yellow and scarlet. 4. Carry him out of doors-he is overpowered by the light and by the extent of natural objects, and is silent. Then presently begins the use of his fingers, and he studies power, the lesson of his race. First it appears in no great harm, in architectural tastes. Out of blocks, thread-spools, cards, and checkers, he will build his pyramid with the gravity of Palladio. With an acoustic apparatus of whistle and rattle he explores the laws of sound. But chiefly, like his senior countrymen, the young American studies new and speedier modes of transportation. 5. Mistrusting the cunning of his small legs, he wishes to ride on the necks and shoulders of all flesh. The small enchanter nothing can withstand—no seniority of age, no gravity of character; uncles, aunts, grandsires, grandams, fall an easy prey: he conforms to nobody, all conform to him; all caper, and make mouths, and babble, and chirrup to him. On the strongest shoulders he rides, and pulls the hair of laureled heads. 6. Fast-almost too fast for the wistful curiosity of the parents, studious of the witchcraft of curls, and dimples, and broken words—the little talker grows te a boy. He walks daily among wonders: fire, light, darkness, the moon, the stars, the furniture of the houso, the red tin horse, the domestics, who, like rude fostormothers, befriend and feed him, the faces that claim his kisses, are all in turn absorbing; yet warm, cheerful, and with good appetite, the little sovereign subdues them without knowing it; the new knowledge is taken up into the life of to-day, and becomes the means of more. 7. The blowing rose is a new event; the garden of flowers is Eden over again to the small Adam; the rain, the ice, the frost, make epochs in his life. What a holiday is the first snow in which Two-shoes can be trusted abroad! What art can paint or gild any obiect in after-life with the glow which Naturo gives to the first baubles of childhood! St. Peter's cannot havo the magical power over us that the red and gold covers of our first picture-book possessed. How tho imagination cleaves to the warm glories of that tinsel even now! 8. What entertainments make every day bright and short for the fine freshman! Tho street is as old as nature; the persons all havo their sacredness. His imaginative life dresses all things in their best. His fears adorn the dark parts with poetry. He has heard of wild horses and of bad boys, and with a pleasing terror he watches at his gate for the passing of those varieties of each species. 9. The first ride into the country, the first bath in running water, the first time the skates are put on, the first game out of doors in moonlight, the books of the nursery, are new chapters of joy. The Arabian Nights' Entertainments, the Seven Champions of Christendom, |