they start from the heaving sods of Bunker's Hill; they gather from the blazing lines of Yorktown and Saratoga, -from the blood-dyed waters of the Brandywine, from the dreary snows of Valley Forge, and all the hard-fought fields of the war! With all their wounds and all their honors, they rise and plead with us for their brethren who survive; and command us, if indeed we cherish the memory of those who bled in our cause, to show our gratitude, not by sounding words, but by stretching out the strong arm of the country's prosperity, to help the veteran survivors gently down to their graves!

III.-Early Dawn and Sunrise. From an

Uses of Astronomy."

"Address on the

1. Much as we are indebted to our observatories for elevating our conceptions of the heavenly bodies, they present, even to the unaided sight, scenes of glory which words are too feeble to describe. I had occasion, a few weeks since, to take the early train from Providence to Boston; and for this purpose rose at two o'clock in the morning. Everything around was wrapped in darkness and hushed in silence, broken only by what seemed at that hour the unearthly clank and rush of the train. It was a mild, serene, midsummer's night; the sky was without a cloud, the winds were hushed.

2. The moon, then in the last quarter, had just risen, and the stars shone with a spectral lustre but little affected by her presence. Jupiter, two hours high, was the herald of the day; the Pleiades, just above the horizon, shed their sweet influence in the east; Lyra sparkled near the zenith; Andromeda veiled her newly-discovered glories from the naked eye, in the south; the steady Pointers, far beneath the pole, looked meekly up, from the depths of the north, to their sovereign.

3. Such was the glorious spectacle as I entered the train.

As we proceeded, the timid approach of twilight became more perceptible; the intense blue of the sky began to soften; the smaller stars, like little children, went first to rest; the sister beams of the Pleiades soon melted together; but the bright constellations of the west and north remained unchanged. Steadily the wondrous transfiguration went on. Hands of angels, hidden from mortal eyes, shifted the scenery of the heavens; the glories of night dissolved into the glories of the dawn.

4. The blue sky now turned more softly gray; the great watch-stars shut up their holy eyes; the east began to kindle. Faint streaks of purple soon blushed along the sky; the whole celestial concave was filled with the inflowing tides of the morning light, which came pouring down from above in one great ocean of radiance; till at length, as we reached the Blue Hills, a flush of purple fire blazed out from above the horizon, and turned the dewy teardrops of flower and leaf into rubies and diamonds. In a few seconds, the everlasting gates of the morning were thrown wide open, and the lord of day, arrayed in glories too severe for the gaze of man, began his state.

5. I do not wonder at the superstition of the ancient Magians, who, in the morning of the world, went up to the hill-tops of Central Asia, and, ignorant of the true God, adored the most glorious work of His hand. But I am filled with amazement when I am told that, in this enlightened age, and in the heart of the Christian world, there are persons who can witness this daily manifestation of the power and wisdom of the Creator and yet say in their hearts, "There is no God."

II.-Verse 2. What fine apostrophe is contained in this verse?— V. 4. How is the word "voice" here used?-The word "mount” in the last line?—What figure is used in the fifth verse?

III.-Verse 2. Jupiter, about 1400 times larger than the earth, is the largest planet in our solar system, and, next to Venus, the brightest.

The Pleiades (Plē’ya-dēz) are a cluster of seven stars (though but six are visible to the naked eye) in the constellation Taurus. Alcy'o-ne, the central star of the group, shines with the light of twelve thousand of our suns, and is so distant that its light is five hundred years in reaching us. But there is a great telescope at Washington through which we may catch a ray of light that left its distant home three and a half million years ago!-Such are some of the wonders which Astronomy opens to us.

Lyra (the Lyre) and Androm'eda, bright constellations in the

northern heavens.

Pointers, two stars in the bowl of the "Dipper," that range nearly with the north star. The "Dipper" belongs to the constellation Great Bear, and consists of seven stars,-called also "The Wagoner," and "Charles's Wain."

V. 5. Magians, ancient Persian priests, who adored the sun as a representative of the Supreme Being.

CHAPTER LIV.-MISCELLANEOUS.

I.-Charlie Machree.

1. Come over, come over the river to me,
If ye are my laddie, bold Charlie machree!
Here's Mary M'Pherson and Susy O'Linn,
Who say ye're faint-hearted, and darena plunge in;
But the dark-rolling water, though deep as the sea,
I know willna scare ye, nor keep ye frae me;
For stout are ye, Charlie, and strong is your arm,
And the heart in your bosom is faithful and warm.
Come over, come over the river to me,

If ye are my laddie, bold Charlie machree.

2. I see him! I see him! He's plunged in the tide;
His strong arms are dashing the big waves aside.
O! the dark-rolling water shoots swift as the sea,
But blithe is the glance of his bonny blue e'e;
His checks are like roses, twa buds on a bough;
Who says ye're faint-hearted, my brave laddie, now?

Ho, ho, foaming river, ye may roar as ye go,
But ye canna bear Charlie to the dark loch below!
Come over, come over the river to me,

My true-hearted laddie, my Charlie machree!

3. He's sinking! he's sinking!-O, what shall I do!

Strike out, Charlie, boldly,-ten strokes, and ye're thro'.
He's sinking, O heaven!-Ne'er fear, man, ne'er fear;
I've a kiss for ye, Charlie, as soon as ye're here!
He rises! I see him!-five strokes, Charlie, mair,—
He's shaking the wet from his bonny brown hair;
He conquers the current, he gains on the sea,—
Ho, where is the swimmer like Charlie machree!
Come over the river, but once come to me,
And I'll love ye forever, dear Charlie machree.

4. He's sinking! he's gone!-O heaven, it is I,

It is I who have killed him!-help, help!-he must die.
Help, help!-ah, he rises,-strike out, and ye're free:
Ho, bravely done, Charlie! once more now, for me!
Now cling to the rock, now gie me your hand—
Ye're safe, dearest Charlie, ye're safe on the land!
Come rest ye, my laddie; now rest ye and sleep ;
I canna speak to ye; I only can weep:
Ye've crossed the wild river, ye've risked all for me,
And I'll part frae ye never, dear Charlie machree!
William J. Hoppin.

II. The Flight of the Birds.

1. Whither away, Robin,

Whither away?

Is it through envy of the maple-leaf,

Whose blushes mock the crimson of thy breast,
Thou wilt not stay?

The summer days were long, yet all too brief
The happy season thou hast been our guest.
Whither away?

2. Whither away, Bluebird,
Whither away?

The blast is chill, yet in the upper sky

Thou still canst find the color of thy wing,
The hue of May.

Warbler, why speed thy southern flight? Ah, why,
Thou, too, whose song first told us of the Spring?
Whither away?

3. Whither away, Swallow,
Whither away?

Canst thou no longer tarry in the North,

Here, where our roof so well hath screened thy nest?
Not one short day?

Wilt thou-as if thou human wert-go forth

And wanton far from them who love thee best?

Whither away?

Edmund Clarence Stedman.

CHAPTER LV.—WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.-1794-1878.

I.-Biographical.

1. Mr. Bryant, the son of a physician, was born at Cummington, Hampshire County, Mass. The father, a man of literary culture, was very attentive to the education of his children, and fostered William's poetic taste, impressing upon him "the value of correctness and compression" in his style. In the Hymn to Death, the poet pays this tribute to the memory of his father:

"For he is in his grave who taught my youth
The Art of Verse, and in the bud of life

Offered me to the Muses. Oh, cut off
Untimely when thy reason in its strength,
Ripened by years of toil and studious search,