3. Its remains still exist; I make it an annual visit. I carry my children to it, to teach them the hardships endured by the generations which have gone before them. I love to dwell on the tender recollections, the kindred ties, the early affections, and the touching narratives and incidents which mingle with all I know of this primitive family abode. 4. I weep to think that none of those who inhabited it are now among the living; and if ever I am ashamed of it, or if ever I fail in affectionate veneration for him who reared it, and defended it against savage violence and destruction, cherished all the domestic virtues beneath its roof, and, through the fire and blood of a seven years' revolutionary war, shrunk from no danger, no toil, no sacrifice, to serve his country, and to raise his children to a condition better than his own, may my name, and the name of my posterity, be blotted forever from the memory of mankind ! LESSON LXXXIX. SPEAK GENTLY. ANONYMOUS 1. SPEAK gently; it is better far 2. Speak gently; love doth whisper low 3. Speak gently to the little child, Its love be sure to gain; 4. Speak gently to the aged one, Grieve not the care-worn heart; 5. Speak gently to the young, for they Pass through this life as best they may, "Tis full of anxious care. 6. Speak gently, kindly, to the poor, 7. Speak gently to the erring; know 8. Speak gently; He who gave his life When elements were in fierce strife, 9. Speak gently; 'tis a little thing Dropped in the heart's deep well; The good, the joy, which it may bring, Eternity shall tell. LESSON XC. THE OCEAN STORM. ANONYMOUS. 1. THE storm is dreadful! The heavens are one vast black cloud. The sheeted rain comes down in torrents. The fair earth is deluged. The sea, the broad-breasted sea, is tossed in terrible commotion, and the whole round world seems wrapt in eternal midnight. God reigns! let all the earth stand in awe of him. Hark! it is his voice, the rolling thunder! See! it is his eye, the fearful lightning! The smit rock declares his power, and the monarch oak, rent from the adamantine hills. 2. Alas! on such a night, for the poor sea-boy. No friendly star lights his dread course. The wind-spirit howls. Wild raves the maddened ocean. The demons of the storm make merry of his fate. Look! now tossed on mountain billowsnow sunk to the lowest depths—" a thing of elemental sport” -the frail bark hurries to destruction. O! God, have mercy on the poor sea-boy! Hark! he shrieks" help! help!" he cries, "help!"--but ah! no help is nigh. 3. The monsters of the deep stand ready for their prey, and the victim in despair awaits his awful fate. The booming gun, and the shriek of human agony are vain. He who rules the storm, permits the destiny, and the doomed ship strikes on the fatal rock. 4. "Oh, sailor-boy! woe to thy dreams of delight! In darkness dissolves the gay frost-work of bliss 5. Oh, sailor-boy! sailor-boy! never again Shall home, friends, or kindred thy wishes repay; Full many a score fathom, thy frame shall decay. 6. "On beds of green sea-flowers, thy limbs shall be laid; Around thy white bones the red coral shall grow; Of thy fair yellow locks threads of amber be made, And every part suit to thy mansion below. 7. "Days, months, years, and ages, shall circle away, And still the vast waters above thee shall roll; LESSON XCI. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. WOODWORTH. 1. How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, And even the rude bucket which hung in the well: The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket, that hung in the well. 2. That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure; For often, at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing, And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell; J Then soon with the einblem of truth overflowing, The moss-covered bucket arose from the well. 3. How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it, And sighs for the bucket which hangs in the well: The moss-covered bucket, which hangs in the well. LESSON XCII. WILLIAM H. SEWARD. BUNGAY. 1. SENATOR SEWARD is the Daniel O'Connell of America, not in stature, for the the former is petit-the latter was prodigious; not in wit, for the Yankee seldom perpetrates even a pun, while the Irishman was a "book in breeches,” and every page gleaming with wit; not in eloquence, for Seward requires preparation, and speaks without much unction; O'Connell spoke spontaneously, and every word was a throb; not in faith, for the defender of the " higher law is almost a Protestant, while the great agitator, as all know, was altogether a Catholic. 2. Yet there is a resemblance, notwithstanding their dissimilarities. Seward stands at the tip-top of his profession as a |