“ But, William,” said I, “it is in another world that she will arise ;” and I attempted to explain to him the nature of that promise which he had mistaken. The child was confused, and he appeared neither pleased nor satisfied.

“ If mother is not coming back to me, — if she is not to come up here, — what shall I do? I cannot stay without her.”

“You shall go to her," said I, adopting the language of the Scripture; “you shall go to her, but she shall not come again to you."

“ Let me go, then,” said William ; “let me go, that I may rise with mother.”

“William,” said I, pointing down to the plants just breaking through the ground, " the seed which was sown there would not have come up if it had not been ripe; so you must wait till your appointed time, until your end cometh.” 66 Then shall I see her?'

I surely hope so." “I will wait then,” said the child; “ but I thought I should see her soon; I thought I should meet her here.”

In a month, William ceased to wait. He died, and they opened his mother's grave, and placed his little coffin on hers. It was the only wish the child expressed in dying. Better teachers than I had instructed him in the way to meet his moth

young as the little sufferer was, he had learned that all the labors and hopes of happiness, short of heaven, are profitless and vain.


er; and



NEVER give up! It is wiser and better

Always to hope, than once to despair ;
Fling off the load of doubt's cankering fetter,

And break the dark spell of tyrannical care.

Never give up! or the burden may sink you ;

Providence kindly has mingled the cup;
And in all trials or troubles, bethink you,

The watchword of life must be, “Never give up."

Never give up! There are chances and changes

Helping the hopeful a hundred to one;
And, through the chaos, high Wisdom arranges

Ever success, if you'll only hope on.
Never give up! for the wisest is boldest,

Knowing that Providence mingles the cup;
And of all maxims, the best, as the oldest,

Is the true watchword of, “ Never give up!"

Never give up! Though the grape shot may rattle,

Or the full thunder cloud over you burst,
Stand like a rock, and the storm or the battle

Little shall harm you, though doing their worst.
Never give up! If adversity presses,

Providence wisely has mingled the cup;
And the best counsel, in all your distresses,

Is the stout watchword of, "Never give up!”



[This lesson is taken from a poem called Rokeby, the scene of which is laid in England, in the year 1644, when the country was torn by a civil war between the king and the Parliament. Oswald Wyckliffe is represented as a designing villain, and Bertram Risingham as a lawless ruffian. They had been partners in guilt; but Oswald had offended Bertram, who had yowed vengeance in consequence. Oswald was on the side of the Parliament, which was successful. Some prisoners had been intrusted to him, whom he has prepared to put to death on account of a false charge of treachery and breach of their word. For that purpose a scaffold had been reared in a dismantled church, and the prisoners brought there.]

The outmost crowd have heard a sound
Like horse's hoof on hardened ground;

Nearer it came, and yet more near ;
The very deathsmen * paused to hear.
'Tis in the churchyard now the tread
Hath waked the dwelling of the dead !
Fresh sod and old sepulchral stone
Return the tramp in varied tone.
All eyes upon the gateway hung,
When through the Gothic arch there sprung
A horseman armed, at headlong speed ;
Sable his cloak, his plume, his steed.
Fire from the flinty hoof was spurned,
The vaults unwonted clang returned.
One instant's glance around he threw,
From saddle-bow his pistol drew.
Grimly determined was his look ;
His charger with the spur he strook,
All scattered backward as he came,
For all knew Bertram Risingham.
Three bounds that noble courser gave :
The first has reached the central navet
The second cleared the chancel | wide,
The third — he was at Wyckliffe's side.
Full levelled at the baron's head
Rang the report

the bullet sped -
And to his long account, and last,
Without a groan, dark Oswald passed.
All was so quick that it might seem
A flash of lightning, or a dream.

While yet the smoke the deed conceals,
Bertram his ready charger wheels;
But floundered on the pavement floor
The steed, and down the rider bore,

* Deathsmen, executioners. + Nave, the central aisle or body of the church. I-Chancel, the space in front of the altar, at the head of the central aisle.

And bursting in the headlong sway,
The faithless saddle girths gave way.
'Twas while he toiled him to be freed,
And with the rein to raise the steed,
That from amazement's iron trance
All Wyckliffe's soldiers waked at once.
Sword, halberd,* musket but, their blows
Hailed † upon Bertram as he rose;
A score of pikes, with each a wound,
Bore down and pinned him to the ground;
But still his struggling force he rears
'Gainst hacking brands and stabbing spears ;
Thrice from assailants shook him free,
Once gained his feet, and twice his knee.
By tenfold odds oppressed at length,
Despite his struggles and his strength,
He took a hundred mortal wounds
As mute as fox 'mongst mangling hounds;
And when he died, his parting groan
Had more of laughter than of moan.
They gazed as when a lion dies,
And hunters scarcely trust their eyes,
And bend their weapons on the slain,
Lest the grim king should rouse again.
Then blow and insult some renewed,
And from the trunk the head had hewed,
But Basil's I voice the deed forbade;
A mantle o'er the corse he laid :
“ Fell § as he was in act and mind,
He left no bolder heart behind :
Then give him, for a soldier meet,
A soldier's cloak for winding sheet.”

* Halbord, a weapon consisting of a pole, with a cross piece of steel at the head.

+ Hailed, fell like hail.
| Basil was a servant of Oswald.

§ Fell, cruel.



(This lesson is also from the poem of Rokeby. Redmond, when a young child, had been brought to the castle of Sir Richard Rokeby by an Irish guide, who had been attacked by robbers in a neighboring wood, and mortally wounded; living only long enough to deposit his infant charge in Sir Richard's hands. Redmond turns out to be the son of an English nobleman; and the poem ends with his happy marriage to his early playmate, Matilda.]

THE tear down childhood's cheek that flows
Is like the dew-drop on the rose ;
When next the summer breeze comes by,
And waves the bush, the flower is dry.
Won by their care, the orphan child
Soon on his new protector smiled,
With dimpled cheek and eye so fair,
Through his thick curls of flaxen hair ;
But blithest * laughed that cheek and eye,
When Rokeby's little maid was nigh;
'Twas his, with elder brother's pride,
Matilda's tottering step to guide;
His native lays, in Irish tongue,
To soothe her infant ear he sung,
And primrose twined with daisy fair
To form a chaplet for her hair.
By lawn, by grove, by brooklet's strand,
The children still were hand in hand,
And good Sir Richard smiling eyed
The early knot so kindly tied.

But summer months bring wilding † shoot
From bud to bloom, from bloom to fruit,

drawn on our human span
From child to boy, from boy to man,
And soon in Rokeby's wood is seen
A gallant boy in hunter's green.

* Blithest, merriest.

+ Wilding, a species of apple.

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