Chief. What have I done of which you can complain? Alex. Hast thou not set at defiance my authority, violated the public peace, and passed thy life in injuring the persons and properties of thy fellow-subjects? Chief. Alexander, I am your captive! I must hear what you please to say, and endure what you please to inflict. But my soul is unconquered; and if I reply at all to your reproaches, I will reply like a free man. Alex. Speak freely. Far be it from me to take the advantage of my power to silence those with whom I deign to converse. Chief. I must then answer your question by asking another. How have you passed your life? Alex. Like a hero. Ask Fame, and she will tell you. Among the brave, I have been the bravest; among sovereigns, the noblest; among conquerors, the mightiest. Chief. And does not Fame speak of me, also? Was there ever a bolder captain of a more valiant band? Was there ever- but I scorn to boast. You yourself know I have not been easily subdued. Alex. Still, what are you but a robber—a base, dishonest robber? Chief. And what is a conqueror? Have not you, too, gone about the earth like an evil genius, blast ing the fair fruits of peace and industry -- plundering, ravaging, killing, without law, without justice, merely to gratify an insatiable lust for dominion? All that I have done to a single district with a hundred followers, you have done to whole nations with a hundred thousand. If I have stripped individuals, you have ruined kings and princes. If I have burned a few hamlets, you have desolated the most flourishing kingdoms and cities of the earth. What, then, is the difference, but that, as you were a king and I a private man, you have been able to become a mightier robber than I? Alex. But if I have taken like a king, I have given like a king. If I have subverted empires, I have founded greater. I have cherished arts, commerce, and philosophy. Chief. I, too, have freely given to the poor what I have taken from the rich. I have established order and discipline among the most ferocious of mankind, and have stretched out my protecting arm over the oppressed. I know, indeed, little of the philosophy of which you talk, but I believe that neither you nor I shall ever atone to the world for half the mischief we have done it. Alex. Leave me. Take off his chains, and use him well. Are we then so much alike? like a robber? Let me reflect. Alexander DR. AIKIN. XXII. THE BROOK I. I come from haunts of coot and hern, And sparkle out among the fern, 2. By thirty hills I hurry down, 3. Till last by Philip's farm I flow 4. I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, 5. With many a curve my banks I fret 6. I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river, 7. I wind about, and in and out, 8. And here and there a foamy flake With many a silvery waterbreak 9. And draw them all along, and flow For men may come, and men may go, 10. I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I move the sweet forget-me-nots II. I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, 12. I murmur under moon and stars I linger by my shingly bars; 13. And out again I curve and flow For men may come, and men may go, ALFRED TENNYSON. XXIII. THE RAPIDS "Is it 1. I remember riding from Buffalo to Niagara Falls, and I said to a gentleman, "What river is that, sir?" That," he said, "is Niagara River.' "Well, it is a beautiful stream," said I, "bright, and fair, and glassy. How far off are the Rapids?" "Only a mile or two," was the reply. possible that only a mile or two from us we shall find the water in the turmoil which it must show when near the Falls?" "You will find it so, sir." And so I found it; and that first sight of the Falls of Niagara I shall never forget. 2. Now launch your bark on that Niagara River: it is bright, smooth, beautiful, and glassy. There is a ripple at the bow; the silvery wake you leave behind adds to your enjoyment. Down the stream you glide, oars, sails, and helm in proper trim, and you set out on your pleasure excursion. 3. Suddenly some one cries out from the bank, "Young men, ahoy!" What is it?" "The |