2. Once, when my scanty meal was spread,

He entered—not a word he spake-
Just perishing for want of bread.

I gave him all; he blessed it, brake,
And ate, but gave me part again;
Mine was an angel's portion then,
For while I fed with eager haste,

The crust was manna to my taste.
3. I spied him where a fountain burst

Clear from the rock; his strength was gone;
The heedless water mocked his thirst;

He heard it, saw it hurrying on-
I ran, and raised the sufferer up;
Twice from the stream he drained my cup,
Dipp'd, and returned it running o'er;

I drank, and never thirsted more.
4. 'Twas night. The floods were out; it blew

A winter hurricane aloof;
I heard his voice abroad, and flew

To bid him welcome to my roof;
I warmed, I clothed, I cheered my guest,
I laid him on my couch to rest;
Then made the ground my bed, and seemed

In Eden's garden while I dreamed.
5. Stripp'd, wounded, beaten nigh to death,

I found him by the highway side;
I roused his pulse, brought back his breath,

Revived his spirit, and supplied
Wine, oil, refreshment. He was healed.
I had myself a wound concealed,
But from that hour forgot the smart,

And peace bound up my broken heart. 6. In prison I saw him next, condemned

To meet a traitor's doom at morn;
The tide of lying tongues I stemmed,

And honored him, midst shame and scorn.
My friendship's utmost zeal to try,
He asked if I for him would die :
The flesh was weak, my blood ran chill,

But the free spirit cried “I will.” 7. Then in a moment to my view

The stranger started from disguise ;
The tokens in his hands I knew-

My Savior stood before my eyes.
He spake, and my poor name he named-
“Of me thou hast not been ashamed;
These deeds shall thy memorial be;
Fear not, thou didst them unto me.”—MONTGOMERY.



Cas. Must I endure all this' ?

Bru. All this' ? ay', more': Fret till your proud heart break;
Go show your slaves how choleric' you are',
And make your bondmen' tremble.. Must Í budge' ?
Must I observe you'? must I stand and crouch
Under your testy humor' ? By the gods',
You shall digest the venom of your spleen,
Though it do split' you; for, from this day forth',
I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
When you are waspish.

Cas. Is it come to this' ?

Bru. You say you are a better' soldier:
Let it appear' so; make your vaunting true', .
And it shall please me well': For mine own part',
I shall be glad to learn of noble' men'.

Cas. You wrong' me every' way; you wrong' me, Brutus':
I said an elder' soldier, not a better' :
Did I say better' ?

Bru. If you did', I care not'.
Cas. When Cæsar lived, he durst not thus have moved me.
Bru. Peace, peace; you durst not so have tempted him.
Cas. I durst not' ?
Bru. No.
Cas. What! durst not tempt him' ?
Bru. For your life' you durst not.

Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love';
I may' do that I shall be sorry' for.

Bru. You have done that you should be sorry' for'.
There is no terror', Cassius', in your threats';
For I am arm'd so strong in honesty',
That they pass by me as the idle wind',
Which I respect' not. I did send to you
For certain sums of gold', which you denied' me-
For I can raise no money by vile means;

I had rather coin my heart',
And drop my blood' for drachmas, than to wring
From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash
By any indirection. I did send
To you for gold to pay my legions',
Which you denied me: Was that done like Cassius' I
Should I have answered Caius Cassius so'?
When Marcus Brutus' grows so covetous,
To lock such rascal counters from his friends,
Be ready, gods, with all your thūnderbõlts,
Dash' him to pieces !




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(This subject is continued from the Fourth Reader.)
Fig. 1.

The eyelids are here closed: a,

upper eyelid ; b, lower eyelid; SIDE VIEW OF A VERTICAL SECTION OF THE EYE.

transparent cornes, immediately beneath the eyelid; , anterior chamber of the aqueous humor; X, posterior chamber of the aque ous humor; m, the iris, with its circular opening called “the pu. pil," in the direction toward which dis pointing ; 1, the crystalline humor or lens; 8, 8, the vitreous humor; e, e, between the e pass. es the optic nerve ; 0, 0, the reti. na, which is an expansion of the optic nerve spreading over the vitreous humor. The retina is considered the inner coat of the

eye. Next outward of this is i, j, • the choroid coat, of a dark color, and filled with minute branches of blood vessels. Adjoining this

is h, h, the sclerotic coat, or white of the eye, into which the cornea fits like a watch-glass into its case; r, capsular artery.


LESSON I.—THE WINDOW OF THE SOUL. 1. THE EYE has been appropriately called the “ window of the soul.” It opens to us, by its wonderful mechanism, a world of beauty, enabling us to perceive the form, color, size, and position of surrounding objects; and it probably contributes more to the enjoyment and happiness of man than any other of the organs through which mind holds communion with the external world.

2. A general knowledge of its structure and action, as a living instrument of vision, may be gathered from the drawing above, by the aid of a brief description. The eyelids—the shutters to this window—which open and close to admit or exclude the light, stand also as watchful guardians to protect the instrument from danger; and by their involuntary action the hard and transparent cornea at the front of the eye is kept constantly lubricated, and free from dust.

3. Back of this cornea is a chamber containing the aqueous, or watery humor;2 and suspended in this is a circular curtain, the colored iris, which has the power of contracting and dilating, to regulate the quantity of light that enters the round

opening in its centre, called the pupil. Immediately back of the pupil is the crystalline3 lens, composed of numerous layers or coatings, which increase in density toward the centre; an arrangement which prevents that spherical aberration, or too great dispersion of the rays of light, which it has been found so difficult to overcome in artificial lenses. Back of the crystalline lens, and filling a large part of the cavity of the eye, is the vitreous, or glassy humor, and spread over this is the thin and delicate membrane of the retina, 4 which is the expansion of the optic nerve.

4. It is on the retina, where it concentrates at the back part of the ball to form the optic nerve, that the images of objects at which the eye looks, whether near or distant, are beautifully pictured or daguerreotyped. We can not look without wonder upon the smallness yet correctness of these pictures. Thus a landscape of several miles in extent is brought into the space of a sixpence, yet the objects which it contains are all distinctly portrayed in their relative magnitudes, positions, figures, and colors, with a fineness and delicacy of touch to which art can make no approach.

5. Yet the mechanical part of this apparatus—its beautiful structure, its perfect adaptation to the laws of light, and its ready adjustment to meet the ever-varying degrees of light, and shade, and distance are far less wonderful than the mental or spiritual part, the manner in which the pictures on the retina are made known to the mind or soul within, through the medium of the optic nerve. The former is a mechanical wonder, of which we comprehend sufficient to excite our unbounded admiration; the latter is a spiritual mystery, of which we know nothing but the bare fact itself.

6. Mr. Addison, in a number of the Spectator, has drawn a much-admired picture of the sense of sight, in the introduction to the first of his celebrated Essays on the Pleasures of the Imagination. We select the opening passages, which Mr. Blair so highly commends for their rhetorical grace and beauty.

7. “Our sight is the most perfect and most delightful of all, our senses. It fills the mind with the largest variety of ideas, converses with its objects at the greatest distance, and continues the longest in action without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoyments.

8. “The sense of feeling can indeed give us the idea of extension, figure, and all the other properties of matter which are perceived by the eye except colors; but, at the same time, it is very much straitened and confined in its operations with regard to the number, bulk, and distance of its objects.

9. “Our sight seems designed to supply all these defects, and may be considered as a more delicate and diffusive kind of touch, that spreads it

self over an infinite multitude of bodies, comprehends the largest figures, and brings into our reach some of the most remote parts of the universe.

10. “It is this sense which furnishes the imagination with its ideas : and by the pleasures of the imagination or fancy (terms which I shall use promiscuously) I here mean such as arise from visible objects, either when we nave them actually in our view, or when we call up their ideas in our minds by paintings, statues, descriptions, or other similar means.

11. “We can not, indeed, have a single image in the fancy that did not make its first entrance through the sight; but we have the power of retaining, altering, and compounding those images which we have once received, and of forming them into all the varieties of picture and vision that are most agreeable to the imagination; for, by this faculty, a man in a dungeon is capable of entertaining himself with scenes and landscapes more beautiful than any that can be found in the whole compass of nature.” · LÖ'-BRI-CA-TED, made smooth or slippery C'eřs'-TAL-LINE, clear; resembling cryst:1d. by moisture.

4 RĚT'-I-NA, plural vet' -i-. HO'-MOR, (trū!-mor, or '-mor).


OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 1. Not in the world of light alone,

Where God has built his blazing thronc',
Nor yet alone in earth below,
With belted seas that come and go',
And endless isles of sunlit green,
Is all thy Maker's glory seen':
Look in upon thy wondrous frame',

Eternal wisdom still the same'!
2. The smooth, soft air, with pulse-like waves,

Flows murmuring through its hidden caves,
Whose streams of brightening purple rush,
Fired with a new and livelier blush,3
While all their burden of decay
The ebbing current steals away';4
And red with Nature's flame they start

From the warm fountains of the heart.
3. No rest that throbbing slaves may ask,

Forever quivering o'er his task,
While far and wide a crimson jet
Leaps forth to fill the woven net,
Which in unnumbered crossing tides
The flood of burning life divides ;
Then, kindling each decaying part, ?

Creeps back to find the throbbing heart.
4. But, warmed with that unchanging flame,

Behold the outward moving frame';
Its living marbles jointed strong
With glistening band and silvery thong, 9

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