and say 2. "They come around me here', They come', and to my beard they dare Their own liege-lord and master born', 3. "And what is Death? I've dared him oft I've met him,' faced him', scorn'd him', I'll try his might'; I'll brave his power'. 4. (p) "Ho! sound the tocsin from the tower, Bid each retainer arm with speed'; (ps) Up with my banner on the wall`! 5. (4) A hundred hands were busy then'; The banquet forth was spread', Lights gleam'd on harness, plume, and spear, 6. (4) Fast hurrying through the outer gate, Arm'd cap-à-pie, stern Rudiger, With girded falchion, sate. 7. (p) "Fill every beaker up, my men'! Are ye all there, my vassals true'? 8. "Ye're there, but yet I see you not! I hear it faintly. (p5 f3) Louder yet! 9. Bowl rang to bowl', steel clang'd to steel', That made the torches flare around, (ps f) "Ho! cravens! do ye fear him? 10. "But I defy him! Let him come!" While from its sheath the ready blade And, with the black and heavy plumes LESSON LV. THE PRESENT AGE. 1. THE Present Age. thought is comprehended' BY CHANNING. In these brief words what a world of what infinite movements! what joys and sorrows'! what hope and despair! what faith and doubt'! what silent grief and loud lament'! what fierce conflicts and subtle schemes of policy'! what private and public revolutions'! In the period through which many of us have passed, what thrones have been shaken! what hearts have bled! what millions have been butchered by their fellow-creatures! what hopes of philanthropy have been blighted! And, at the same time, what magnificent enterprises have been achieved! what new provinces won to science and art! what rights and liberties secured to nations! 2. It is a privilege to have lived in an age so stirring, so pregnant', and so eventful! It is an age never to be forgotten. Its voice of warning and encouragement is never to die. Its impression on history is indelible. Amidst its events, the American Revolution, the first distinct, solemn assertion of the rights of men, and the French Revolution, that volcanic force which shook the earth to its center, are never to pass from men's minds. Over this age, the night will indeed gather more and more, as time rolls away; but in that night two forms will appear,-Washington and Napoleon; the one a lurid meteor', the other a benign', serene', and undecaying star'. 3. Another American name will live in history,-your Franklin; and the kite which brought lightning from heaven will be seen sailing in the clouds by remote posterity, when the city where he dwelt may be known only by its ruins. There is, however, something greater in the age than its greatest men: it is the appearance of a new power in the world,—the appearance of the multitude of men on that stage where as yet the few have acted their parts alone. This influence is to endure to the end of time. 4. What more of the present is to survive? Perhaps much of which we now take no note. The glory of an age is often hidden from itself. Perhaps some word has been spoken in our day, which we have not deigned to hear, but which is to grow clearer and louder through all ages. Perhaps some silent thinker among us is at work in his closet, whose name is to fill the earth. Perhaps there sleeps in his cradle some reformer who is to move the church and the world', who is to open a new era in history', who is to fire the human soul with new hope and new daring. 5. What else is to survive the age? That which the age has little thought of, but which is living in us all: I mean the soul', the immortal spirit'. Of this all ages are the unfoldings; and it is greater than all. We must not feel, in the contemplation of the vast movements in our own and former times, as if our selves were nothing. I repeat it, we are greater than all. We are to survive our age', to comprehend it', and to pronounce ita sentence. As yet, however, we are compassed with darkness The issues of our time, how obscure! The future, into which it opens, who of us can foresee? To the Father of all Ages I commit this future with humble yet courageous and unfaltering hope. LESSON LVI. OLD IRONSIDES. BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 1. Ay, tear her tatter'd ensign down'! Shall sweep the clouds no more! 2. Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, 3. Oh, better that her shatter'd hulk Set every threadbare sail', And give her to the god of storms", The lightning and the gale'! LESSON LVII. EXTRACT FROM A LECTURE ON "THE MORAL SPIRIT OF BYRON'S GENIUS." BY HENRY GILES. 1. GENIUS, to enjoy and to communicate happy and exalting life, must have union with the moral and the spiritual'; with the truth which they inspire'; with the beauty which they sanctify. These belong to the soul's moral and progressive being'; and these', good and fair forever', no genius can exhaust', and no genius can transcend'. Genius, therefore, to act in freedom and in a right direction, must be of faith, and love, and hope: of the faith which can reverence and can trust; of the love which can receive and give; of the hope which faith and love sustain, which gleams cheeringly over the path of humanity, and which, by large sympathy, has large wisdom. and 2. These are the principles which connect us with the universe of highest thought and of most enduring beauty. It is by faith that poetry, as well as devotion, soars above this dull earth; that imagination breaks through its clouds', breathes a purer air', lives in a softer light'. It is love that gives the poet the whole heart of man; and it is by love that he speaks to the whole heart of man forever. Hope, which is but our ideal future, lives ven in our most prosaic experience, and is a needful solace to our daily toils. We can then but ill spare it from our poetic dreams. We can but ill endure, among so many sad realities, to rob anticipation of its pleasant visions. 3. In speaking thus, I would not imply that life can be always sunshine. By no means. Its afflictions are many'; they are universal'; they are inevitable'. Because they are so, life can endure to lose none of its alleviations. Much that belongs merely to the present it must of necessity lose. Wretched it is, indeed, if it must likewise resign the future. Much will be carried from us, as our years decline, which years that come never can restore. Hours there are brief, happy hours-in experience, which may not be forgotten, but are no more to be renewed. They can be but once, and the effort to repeat is to destroy them. They go to the past as a dream; they are no more, except that now and then their shadows mock us through the mist of days. 4. Pure enjoyments, and bright expectancies, the most meager souls have known some time in their existence; and the most |