At last she came to his hermitage, Like the bird from the woodlands to the cage ;- A gentle wife, but fairy none. 7. Then I said, "I covet truth; Beauty is unripe childhood's cheat; I leave it behind with the games of youth.' 8. As I spoke, beneath my feet The ground pine curled its pretty wreath, Around me stood the oaks and firs; Pine cones and acorns lay on the ground; 9. Again I saw, again I heard The rolling river, the morning bird;— I yielded myself to the perfect whole, Ralph Waldo Emerson. FOR PREPARATION.-I. The poems of Emerson are so elevated in their tone, and are so far removed from the jingle of rhyme and rhythm, and express such subtleties of thought, that a beginner makes very little "rhyme or reason "out of them. They belong to the class of literature called "oracles." Like the hymns of the Veda, the lyrics of Orpheus and of Pindar, or the Zoroastrian scriptures, they belong to a serene height, and will grow more and more in honor. II. Hĕif'-er (hěf-), yield ́-ed, bŭb'-bles, treas'-ureş (trězh’urz), vÃ'-0let's breath (brěth). III. Make a list of twelve words with the prefixes super or hyper (meaning over); also a list of twelve words with the prefixes sub and hypo (mean ing under); and a list of twelve, with ante or pre (meaning before), or with post (meaning after). IV. Lows, deems, lists, argument, creed, enamel, hermitage, covet, inhaled, soared, enchantment, noisome. V. The thought of "Each and All" is that of the relation of dependence of the part upon the whole-a relation extending far beyond the knowledge of the individual; and the difference in degrees of insight or wisdom that people possess, lies just in their different powers of seeing things in their relation to the whole, and of seeing the whole itself. Standing on a hill, you see clown and heifer, unconscious that they add a charm to the landscape seen by you, as the sexton was unconscious of the delight given to Napoleon. A good life is a silent argument to strengthen your neighbor's good principles. Each lives for all and all live for each, whether we see the connecting links of it or not. As all the parts of the landscape contribute to the beauty of the whole (6 and 7), but no one is beautiful by itself, so it is with the individuals of society. The bird's song is just in place in the field or forest; the shell is prettier on the shore.-"The savage sea greeted "-as though the sea bellowed when it saw the shells escaping from its waves into my hands. "Woven still by the snow-white choir "—she looked more beautiful among the other maidens. "I covet truth "—i. e., in preference to all this seeming or appearance which is lent to things by their surroundings, and does not belong to them in reality; truth is their reality, in contrast to their seeming. But then (14) the question arose in the poet's mind, "Are these things true and real in their separate existence, or only in this very relation to other things which makes them seem?" The pine, the moss, the violet, oaks, firs, rivers, birds-all are necessary to the landscape, and each is dependent on something external to itself-dependent on its surroundings : the plants depend on the ground, and the water, and the air; the animals depend on the plants, water, and air; and the poet depends on them all, and likewise poetically enjoys the whole landscape, which would not be the delightful thing it is if you took away a single one of its elements: Each is for all. XCIII-RIP VAN WINKLE'S SLEEP. 1. In a long ramble, on a fine autumnal day, Rip had unconsciously scrambled to one of the highest parts of the Kaatskill Mountains. He was after his favorite sport of squirrel shooting, and the still solitudes had echoed and reëchoed with the reports of his gun. Panting and fatigued, he threw himself, late in the afternoon, on a green knoll covered with mountain herbage, that crowned the brow of the precipice. From an opening between the trees he could overlook all the lower country for many a mile of rich woodland. He saw at a distance the lordly Hudson, far, far below him, moving in its silent but majestic course, with the reflection of a purple cloud, or the sail of a lagging bark here and there sleeping on its glassy bosom, and at last losing itself in the blue highlands. 2. On the other side he looked down into a deep mountain glen, wild, lonely, and shagged, the bottom filled with fragments from the impending cliffs, and scarcely lighted by the reflected rays of the setting sun. For some time Rip lay musing on this scene. Evening was gradually advancing; the mountains began to throw their long blue shadows over the valleys. He saw that it would be dark long before he could reach the village, and he heaved a heavy sigh when he thought of encountering the terrors of Dame Van Winkle. 3. As he was about to descend, he heard a voice from a distance, hallooing, "Rip Van Winkle! Rip Van Winkle!" He looked round, but could see nothing but a crow winging its solitary flight across the mountains. He thought his fancy must have deceived him, and turned again to descend, when he heard the same cry ring through the still evening air, "Rip Van Winkle! Rip Van Winkle!" At the same time, Wolf bristled up his back, and, giving a loud growl, skulked to his master's side, looking fearfully down the glen. 4. Rip now felt a vague apprehension stealing over him; he looked anxiously in the same direction, and perceived a strange figure slowly toiling up the rocks, and |