quent recurrence of this struggle between the claims of nature and affection, and the sterner demands of legal justice? And shall we sit here, "deliberating in cold debates," whether men shall be saved from moral wretched5 ness like this? LESSON CLX.-EXTRACT FROM AN ADDRESS DELIVERED AT CHAPEL HILL.-WM. GASTON. Deeply rooted principles of probity, confirmed habits of industry, and a determination to rely on one's own exertion, constitute the great preparation for the discharge of the duties of man, and the best security for performing 5 them with honor to one's self, and benefit to others. But it may be asked, what is there in such a life of never-ending toil, effort, and privation, to recommend it to the acceptance of the young and the gay? Those who aspire to heroic renown, may indeed make up their minds to embrace these 10 "hard doctrines;" but it may be well questioned, whether happiness is not preferable to greatness, and enjoyment more desirable than distinction. Let others, if they will, toil up "the steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar;" we choose rather to sport in luxurious ease and careless 15 glee, in the valley below. It is, indeed, on those who aspire to eminence, that these injunctions are intended to be pressed with the greatest emphasis, not only because a failure in them would be more disastrous than in others, but because they are ex20 posed to greater and more numerous dangers of error. But it is a sad mistake to suppose, that they are not suited to all, and are not earnestly urged upon all, however humble their pretensions or moderate their views. Happiness, as well as greatness, enjoyment, as well as renown, have 25 no friends so sure as Integrity, Diligence and Independ ence. We We are not placed here to waste our days in wanton riot or inglorious ease, with appetites perpetually gratified and never palled, exempted from all care and solicitude, 30 with life ever fresh, and joys ever new. He who has fitted us for our condition, and assigned to us its appropriate duties, has not left his work unfinished, and omitted to provide a penalty for the neglect of our obligations. Labor is not more the duty, than the blessing of man. Without 35 it, there is neither mental nor physical vigor, health, cheer fulness nor animation; neither the eagerness of hope, nor the capacity to enjoy. Every human being must have some object to engage his attention, excite his wishes, and rouse him to action, 5 or he sinks, a prey to listlessness. For want of proper occupations, see strenuous idleness resorting to a thousand expedients, the race-course, the bottle, or the gamingtable, the frivolities of fashion, the debasements of sensuality, the petty contentions of envy, the grovelling pursuits 10 of avarice, and all the various distracting agitations of vice. Call you these enjoyments? Is such the happiness which it is so dreadful to forego? 15 20 "Vast happiness enjoy thy gay allies! Reserving woes for age, their prime they spend; With sorrow to the verge of life they tend; Grieved with the present, of the past ashamed; They live and are despised, they die, nor more are named." 5 10 15 20 LESSON CLXI.-THE LYRE.-MILTON WARD. There was a lyre, 't is said that hung An angel hand its chords had strung, Each wandering breeze, that o'er it flew, Than ever shell of mermaid blew When, springing from the rose's bell, Bright with the tears that morning wept, Waved lightly his soft azure wing; The birds, that sweetly warbled by, And the soft echo from the hills, Were heard not where that harp was nigh. 5 10 15 20 25 309 35 10 When the last light of fading day While night had darkened all the rest, And sweeter than the lay, that rung That harp its plaintive murmurs sighed And not the poplar's foliage trembled, In earth and air it shone no more; To shield the harp of heavenly song! For every chord was torn in two. That Lyre they could not wake or warm. LESSON CLXII.-POLISH WAR SONG.-JAMES G. PERCIVAL. Freedom calls you! Quick, be ready, Rouse ye in the name of God, Onward, onward, strong and steady,- Rise, and spurn the name of slave. Grasp the sword!-its edge is keen, By the souls of patriots gone, Sobieski cries awake! Rise, and front the despot czar, Freedom calls you! Quick, be ready,- On, and let the watchwords be, LESSON CLXIII.—BELSHAZZAR.—Geo. Croly. The princes from the feast were gone; That night the feast was wild and high; The last deep cup of wrath was drained. 'Mid jewelled roof and silken pall, A burst of thunder filled the hall, He heard,—but 't was no mortal tongue :— 5 10 15 20 25 30 "King of the East! the trumpet calls, That never filled its bed before ; Shall load with death its haughty shore. A torrent of the Median car; Belshazzar gazed; the voice was past,- The rushing of a mighty plume. ! He listened; all again was still; He slept; in sleep wild murmurs came; He heard again the Prophet cry,— "Sleep, Sultan ! 't is thy final sleep, Or wake, or sleep, the guilty dies. He started; 'mid the battle's yell, LESSON CLXIV.—ELIJAH'S INTERVIEW. Thomas Campbell. On Horeb's rock the prophet stood,- A hurricane in angry mood |