ELIHU BURRITT.
1. Knowledge can not be stolen from you. It can not be bought or sold. You may be poor, and the sheriff come into your house, and sell your furniture at auction, or drive away your cow, or take your lamb, and leave you homeless and penniless; but he can not lay the law's hand upon the jewelry of your mind. This can not be taken for debt; neither can you give it away, though you give enough of it to fill a million minds.
2. I will tell you what such giving is like. Suppose, now, that there were no sun nor stars in the heavens, nor any thing that shone in the black brow of night; and suppose that a lighted lamp were put into your hand, which should burn wasteless and clear amid all the tempests that should brood upon this lower world.
3. Suppose next, that there were a thousand millions of human beings on the earth with you, each holding in his hand an unlighted lamp, filled with the same oil as yours, and capable of giving as much light. Suppose these millions should come, one by one, to you, and light each his lamp by yours, would they rob you of any light? Would less of it shine on your own path? Would your lamp burn more dimly for lighting a thousand millions?
4. Thus it is, young friends. In getting rich in the things which perish with the using, men have often obeyed to the letter that first commandment of selfishness: "Keep what you can get, and get what you can." In filling your minds with the wealth of knowledge, you must reverse this rule, and obey this law: "Keep what you give, and give what you can."
5. The fountain of knowledge is filled by its outlets, not by its inlets. You can learn nothing which you do not teach; you can acquire nothing of intellectual wealth, except by giving. In the illustration of the lamps, which I have given you, was not the light of the thousands of millions which were lighted at yours, as much your light, as if it all came from your solitary lamp? Did you not dispel darkness by giving away light?
6. Remember this parable, and, whenever you fall in with an unlighted mind in your walk of life, drop a kind and glowing thought upon it from yours, and set it a-burning in the world with a light that shall shine in some dark place to beam on the benighted.
QUESTIONS.—1. What is said of knowledge? 2. What is the giving of knowledge like? 3. In getting rich, what precept have men obeyed? 4. What precept must be obeyed in getting knowledge? 5. How is knowledge best acquired? 6. What is meant by the jewelry of the mind, first paragraph? 7. What, by intellectual wealth, fifth paragraph?
[Headnote 1: PAL' ES TINE includes that part of Turkey in Asia, lying on the eastern borders of the Mediterranean Sea.]
L.H. SIGOURNEY.
1. The lessons of our school are over. The lights in the distant windows are extinguished, one after the other. The village will soon be lost in slumber. When all the men and the women are asleep, must we keep awake to learn lessons?
2. In large cities, there may be heard, now and then, the rushing wheel of the traveler. The watchmen pace their round, and cry, "All is well." In the long, cold nights of Norway, the watchmen who guard the capitol, pronounce, in a solemn tone, "God bless our good city of Bergen!"
3. In the garrison, or the endangered fortress, the armed sentinel keeps watch, lest they should be surprised by the foe. But in this peaceful village there is no need of either sentinel or watchman. Why may we not go to sleep, instead of learning Night's lessons?
4. My son, one of these you may learn in a moment. Did you say that all will soon be sleeping? No! there is one Eye that never slumbers. He who made all the people, keepeth watch above the everlasting hills. Commit yourself to His care.
5. Now, will you learn with me the second lesson of the night? Lift your eyes to yon glorious canopy. Seest thou not there a sentinel, set by the Eternal, at the northern gate of heaven,—the pole-star?
6. The pole-star! Blessings are breathed upon it, by the weary caravan, fearing the poisonous wind of the desert,—by the red forest-children, seeking their home beyond the far Western prairies,—and by the lonely mariner, upon the pathless ocean.
7. The stars! See them! The oil in their lamps never burns out. These glorious constellations wheel their mighty course unchanged, while "man dieth and wasteth away, yea, man giveth up the ghost, and where is he?" [Footnote: Job, 14th chap., 10th verse.]
8. Yon brilliant orbs maintain their places, while countless generations pass away, and nations disappear and are forgotten. Let us bow in humility before "Him who bringeth out their host by number, who calleth them all by names, by the greatness of His might, for that He is strong in power; not one faileth." [Footnote: Isaiah. 40th chap., 26th verse.]
9. Thirteen times in the year, Night, the teacher, gives extra lessons. Will you be there to learn them? First, she hangs up a pale crescent in the west. The ancient Jews hailed its infant beam, and answering fires of joy were kindled on the hills of Palestine.[Headnote 1]
10. Next, she summons forth a rounded orb, clad in full effulgence, and commits to it the regency when the sun retires. Lastly, a slender, waning crescent appears nightly, like an aged man, ready to descend into the night of the tomb.
11.
"Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth,
Repeats the story of her birth;
While all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole."
12. These are some of Night's lessons. Are you tired of them? Or, will you learn one more? Lift up your heart to Him who has given you the past day, with thanks for its blessings,—with penitence for its faults,—with supplication for strength and wisdom for the time that is to come.
13. "Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge" [Footnote: Psalm 19th, 2nd verse.] of God. Thus, meekly and faithfully studying Night's lessons, may we find
QUESTIONS.—1. Who watches over us when asleep? 2. In what way is the pole-star useful to man? 3. What is said of the stars? 4. What extra lessons is it that night gives thirteen times a year? 5. Describe the first appearance of the moon. 6. How does it next appear? 7. Where is Palestine? 8. Where are the passages to be found, quoted in the 7th, 8th, and 13th paragraphs? 9. Do you know who is the author of the 11th verse? Ans. Addison.
CHAMBERS' JOURNAL.
QUESTIONS.—1. What is meant by God's warning on the wall? See the 5th chap. of Daniel. 2. What is meant by minstrel-bird? Ans. The lark.
A NON.' is an abbreviation of anonymous, which means without name; nameless. See SANDERS' ANALYSIS, page 88, Exercise 108.
ANON.
QUESTIONS.—1. Who are meant by they in this lesson? 2. What is said of those who are sowing the seeds of word and deed? 3. What, of those who are sowing the seeds of care? 4. Repeat the last verse. 5. What passage of Scripture teaches the same idea? Ans. "Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap."—Gal., 6th chap., 7th verse.
[Headnote 1: SA HA' RA, is a Great Desert in Africa, lying south of the Barbary States, and extending from the Atlantic on the west to Egypt and Nubia on the east. The winds that come from this desert, are hot and suffocating.]
ANON.
1. Our noble ship lay at anchor in the Bay of Tangier, a fortified town in the extreme northwest of Africa. The day had been extremely mild, with a gentle breeze sweeping to the northward and westward; but, toward the close of the afternoon, the sea-breeze died away, and one of those sultry, oven-like breathings came from the great, sun-burnt Sahara [Headnote 1].
2. Half an hour before sundown, the captain gave the cheering order for the boatswain to call the hands to "go in swimming;" and, in less than five minutes, the forms of our tars were seen leaping from the arms of the lower yards, into the water. One of the studding sails, with its corners suspended from the main yard-arm and the swinging boom, had been lowered into the water, and into this most of the swimmers made their way.
3. Among those who seemed to be enjoying the sport most heartily, were two of the boys, Timothy Wallace and Frederic Fairbanks, the latter of whom was the son of our old gunner; and, in a laughing mood, they started out from the studding sail on a race. There was a loud ringing shout of joy on their lips as they put off, and they darted through the water like fishes. The surface of the sea was smooth as glass, though its bosom rose in long, heavy swells that set in from the Atlantic.
4. The vessel was moored with a long sweep from both cables, and one of the buoys of the anchor was far away on the starboard quarter, where it rose and fell with the lazy swells of the waves. Toward this buoy the two lads made their way, young Fairbanks taking the lead; but, when they were within about twenty or thirty fathoms of the buoy, Wallace shot ahead and promised to win the race.
5. The old gunner had watched the progress of his little son with a great degree of pride; and when he saw him drop behind, he leaped upon the quarter-deck, and was just upon the point of urging him on by a shout, when a cry was heard that struck him with instant horror.
6. "A shark! a shark!" was sounded from the captain of the forecastle; and, at the sound of these terrible words, the men who were in the water, leaped and plunged toward the ship. Right abeam, at the distance of three or four cables' lengths, was seen the wake of a shark in the water, where the back of the monster was visible. His course was for the boys.
7. For a moment, the gunner stood like one bereft of reason; but, on the next, he shouted at the top of his voice, for the boys to turn; but they heard him not. Stoutly the two swimmers strove for the goal, all unconscious of their imminent danger. Their merry laugh still rang over the waters, and, at length, they both touched the buoy together.
8. Oh, what agony filled the heart of the gunner! A boat had put off, but he knew that it could not reach the boys in season, and every moment he expected to see the monster sink from sight,—then he knew that all hope would be gone. At this moment, a cry reached the ship, that pierced every heart,—the boys had discovered their enemy.
9. The cry started the old gunner to his senses, and quicker than thought, he sprang from the quarter-deck. The guns were all loaded and shotted, fore and aft, and none knew their temper better than he. With steady hand, made strong by sudden hope, the old gunner seized a priming-wire and picked the cartridge of one of the quarter guns; then he took from his pocket a percussion cap, fixed it in its place, and set back the hammer of the patent lock.
10. With a giant strength the old man swayed the breech of the heavy gun to its bearing, and then seizing the string of the lock, he stood back and watched for the next swell that would bring the shark in range. He had aimed the piece some distance ahead of his mark; but yet a little moment would settle his hopes and fears.
11. Every breath was hushed, and every heart in that old ship beat painfully. The boat was yet some distance from the boys, while the horrid sea-monster was fearfully near. Suddenly the air was rent by the roar of the heavy gun; and, as the old man knew his shot was gone, he sank back upon the hatch, and covered his face with his hands, as if afraid to see the result of his own efforts; for, if he had failed, he knew that his boy was lost.
12. For a moment after the report of the gun had died away upon the air, there was an unbroken silence; but, as the dense smoke arose from the surface of the water, there was, at first, a low murmur breaking from the lips of the men,—that murmur grew louder and stronger, till it swelled to a joyous, deafening shout. The old gunner sprang to his feet, and gazed off on the water, and the first thing that met his view, was the huge carcass of the shark, floating on his back—a mangled, lifeless mass.
13. In a few moments, the boats reached the daring swimmers, and, greatly frightened, they were brought on board. The old man clasped his boy in his arms, and then, overcome by the powerful excitement, he leaned upon a gun for support. I have seen men in all the phases of excitement and suspense, but never have I seen three human beings more overcome by thrilling emotions, than on that startling moment when they first knew the effect of our gunner's shot.
QUESTIONS.—1. Where is the town of Tangier? 2. What order had been given by the captain of the vessel? 3. Who seemed most to enjoy the sport? 4. What is said of the old gunner? 5. What did he do? 6. What effect did his shot produce? 7. Describe the closing scene.
1. A certain Persian king, while traveling in disguise, with but few attendants, was waylaid by robbers, who threatened to take not only his goods, but his life.
2. Feeling himself beyond the reach of human aid, he inwardly made a vow, that if God would incline the hearts of these ruffians to mercy, and restore him in safety to his family and people, he would distribute all the money then in his treasury, in alms to the needy of his realm.
3. The robbers, from some unknown cause, liberated him, and he soon reached home in safety, having sustained no injury, save the loss of the small purse of gold that he had carried in his girdle.
4. Desirous of keeping the vow he had made, he summoned his officers, and commanded them to make immediate distribution to the poor, of all that the treasury contained, at the time of his return.
5. But his officers, more miserly than himself, and, fearful that they might fall short in their salaries and pensions, began to urge upon the monarch the folly of keeping this rash vow, and the danger of thus involving himself and his kingdom in difficulties.
6. Finding he still remained firm, they took other grounds, and plausibly argued that the troops and other officials needed aid as well as the poor; and, as by the words of his vow, he had bound himself to distribute the contents of the treasury to those who had claim to relief, the public servants certainly came within the required limits.
7. Bewildered by their false logic, and sincerely desirous of doing right, he appealed to a certain sage who dwelt near the royal palace, and determined to abide by his decision.
8. The sage, after hearing the case, only asked the following simple question: "Of whom were you thinking when you made the vow,—the poor, or the public servants?" The monarch replied, "Of the poor." "Then," answered the sage, "it is to the poor you are bound to distribute these funds; for you are not really fulfilling your vow, unless you do that which you intended to do when it was made." The king was satisfied that this was the right decision, and did as the sage advised.
9. Let the young bear in mind that God is a being of truth, requiring truth in the inward heart; and, if they would have His approval, and that of their own consciences, they must avoid not only the outward appearance of falsehood, but the slightest evasion or deceit; and when promises have been made, fulfill not only the letter, but the spirit of that which they agreed to perform.
10. Beware of the first and slightest departure from truth, of the least endeavor to deceive, and even of the desire to have others believe what is not so. Let your motto be, "The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."
QUESTIONS.—1. What happened to a certain Persian king? 2. What vow did he then make? 3. What objection did his officers make to this? 4. What did the king then do? 5. What was the sage's decision? 6. What motto ought you to adopt? 7. What rule for spelling the word traveling with one l? See SANDERS & McELLIGOTT'S ANALYSIS, page 13, Rule 10.
See SANDERS and McELLIGOTT'S ANALYSIS, page 90, Ex. 113; also, page 110, Ex. 142.
J.N. McELLIGOTT.
[Footnote 1: Prov., 11th Chap., 15th verse.]
[Footnote 2: 1st Psalm, 1st verse.]
We have seldom seen any thing so full of wit, truth, and practical wisdom, as this poem inscribed.
QUESTIONS.—1. What did the writer tell Robert and John to do with the book, given them? 2. What use did he tell them to make of Youth?
GOLDSMITH.
1. Whang, the miller, was naturally avaricious; nobody loved money better than he, or more respected those that had it. When people would talk of a rich man in company, Whang would say, "I know him very well, he and I have been very long acquainted; he and I are intimate."
2. But, if a poor man was mentioned, he had not the least knowledge of the man; he might be very well, for aught he knew; but he was not fond of making many acquaintances, and loved to choose his company.
3. Whang, however, with all his eagerness for riches, was poor. He had nothing but the profits of his mill to support him; but, though these were small, they were certain: while it stood and went, he was sure of eating; and his frugality was such, that he, every day, laid some money by; which he would, at intervals, count and contemplate with much satisfaction.
4. Yet still his acquisitions were not equal to his desires; he only found himself above want; whereas he desired to be possessed of affluence. One day, as he was indulging these wishes, he was informed that a neighbor of his had found a pan of money under ground, having dreamed of it three nights in succession.
5. These tidings were daggers to the heart of poor Whang. "Here am I," said he, "toiling and moiling from morning till night for a few paltry farthings, while neighbor Thanks only goes quietly to bed, and dreams himself into thousands before morning. Oh, that I could dream like him! With what pleasure would I dig round the pan! How slyly would I carry it home! Not even my wife should see me! And then, oh the pleasure of thrusting one's hands into a heap of gold up to the elbows!"
6. Such reflections only served to make the miller unhappy. He discontinued his former assiduity; he was quite disgusted with small gains; and his customers began to forsake him. Every day he repeated the wish, and every night laid himself down in order to dream. Fortune, that was for a long time unkind, at last, however, seemed to smile upon his distress, and indulged him with the wished-for vision.
7. He dreamed that under a certain part of the foundation of his mill, there was concealed a monstrous pan of gold and diamonds, buried deep in the ground, and covered with a large flat stone. He concealed his good luck from every person, as is usual in money-dreams, in order to have the vision repeated the two succeeding nights, by which he should be certain of its truth. His wishes in this, also, were answered; he still dreamed of the same pan of money, in the very same place.
8. Now, therefore, it was past a doubt; so, getting up early the third morning, he repaired, alone, with a mattock in his hand, to the mill, and began to undermine that part of the wall to which the vision directed. The first omen of success that he met with, was a broken ring; digging still deeper, he turned up a house-tile, quite new and entire.
9. At last, after much digging, he came to a broad flat stone; but then it was so large, that it was beyond his strength to remove it. "There," cried he in raptures to himself, "there it is! under this stone, there is room for a very large pan of diamonds indeed. I must e'en go home to my wife, and tell her the whole affair, and get her to assist me in turning it up." Away, therefore, he goes, and acquaints his wife with every circumstance of their good fortune.
10. Her raptures, on this occasion, may easily be imagined; she flew round his neck, and embraced him in an agony of joy. But these transports, however, did not allay their eagerness to know the exact sum; returning, together, to the place where Whang had been digging, there they found—not, indeed, the expected treasure—but the mill, their only support, undermined and fallen!
QUESTIONS.—1. Upon what was Whang, the miller, dependent for support? 2. Why was he not satisfied? 3. What did he say to himself, after the information he had received from a neighbor? 4. What effect had such reflections upon him? 5. What did he dream three nights successively? 6. What did he do? 7. What was the result?
HENRY WARD BEECHER.
1. Every one knows, who lives in the country, what a chimney-swallow is. They are among the birds that seem to love the neighborhood of man. Many birds there are, that nestle confidingly in the protection of their superiors, and are seldom found nesting or breeding far from human habitations.
2. The wren builds close to your door. Sparrows and robins, if well treated, will make their nests right under your window, in some favorite tree, and will teach you, if you choose to go into the business, how to build birds' nests.
3. A great deal of politeness and fidelity may be learned. The female bird is waited upon, fed, cheered with singing, during her incubation, in a manner that might give lessons to the household. Nay, when she needs exercise and recreation, her husband very demurely takes her place, and keeps the eggs warm in the most gentlemanly way.
4. Barn-swallows have a very sensible appreciation of the pleasures of an ample barn. A barn might not be found quite the thing to live in, (although we have seen many a place where we would take the barn sooner than the house,) but it is one of the most charming places in a summer-day to lounge, read, or nap in.
5. And, as you lie on your back upon the sweet-scented hay-mow, or upon clean straw thrown down on the great floor, reading books of natural history, it is very pleasant to see the flitting swallows glance in and out, or course about under the roof, with motion so lithe and rapid as to seem more like the glancing of shadows than the winging of birds. Their mud-nests are clean, if they are made of dirt; and you would never dream, from their feathers, what sort of a house they lived in.
6. But, it was of chimney-swallows that we began to write; and they are just now roaring in the little, stubbed chimney behind us, to remind us of our duty. Every evening we hear them; for a nest of young ones brings the parents in with food, early and late, and every entrance or exit is like a distant roll of thunder, or like those old-fashioned rumblings of high winds in the chimney, which made us children think that all out-of-doors was coming down the chimney in stormy nights.
7. These little architects build their simple nests upon the sides of the chimney with sticks, which they are said to break off from dead branches of trees, though they might more easily pick them up already prepared. But they, doubtless, have their own reasons for cutting their own timber. Then these are glued to the wall by a saliva which they secrete, so that they carry their mortar in their mouths, and use their bills for trowels.
8. When the young are ready to leave, they climb up the chimney to the top, by means of their sharp claws, aided by their tail-feathers, which are short, stiff, and at the end armed with sharp spines. Two broods are reared in a season. From the few which congregate in any one neighborhood, one would not suspect the great numbers which assemble at the end of the season. Audubon estimated that nine thousand entered a large sycamore-tree, every night, to roost, near Louisville, Kentucky.
9. Sometimes the little nest has been slighted in building, or the weight proves too great, and down it comes into the fire-place, to the great amusement of the children, who are all a-fever to hold in their hands these clean, bright-eyed little fellows. Who would suspect that they had ever been bred in such a flue?
10. And it was just this thought that set us to writing. Because a bird lives in a chimney, he need not be smutty. There is many a fine feather that lives in a chimney-corner. Nor are birds the only instances. Many men are born in a garret, or in a cellar, who fly out of it, as soon as fledged, as fine as any body. A lowly home has reared many high natures.
11. On these bare sticks, right against the bricks, in this smoky flue, the eggs are laid, the brooding goes on, the young are hatched, fed, grown. But then comes the day when they spread the wing, and the whole heaven is theirs! From morning to night, they can not touch the bounds of their liberty!
12. And, in like manner, it is with the human soul that has learned to know its liberty. Born in a body, pent up, and cramped, it seems imprisoned in a mere smoky flue for passions. But, when once faith has taught the soul that it has wings, then it begins to fly; and flying, finds that all God's domain is its liberty.
13. And, as the swallow that comes back to roost in its hard hole at night, is quite content, so that the morning gives it again all the bright heavens for its soaring-ground, so may men, close quartered and cramped in bodily accommodations, be quite patient of their narrow bounds, for their thoughts may fly out every day gloriously.
14. And as, in autumn, these children of the chimney gather in flocks, and fly away to heavens without a winter, so men shall find a day when they, too, shall migrate; and, rising into a higher sphere, without storm or winter, shall remember the troubles of this mortal life, as birds in Florida may be supposed to remember the northern chills, which drove them forth to a fairer clime.
QUESTIONS.—1. What birds seem to love the neighborhood of man? 2. In what respects may men be like birds?
The first part of each verse, or that portion read by the First Voice, should be expressed in a slow and despondent tone of voice: the second part, or that read by the Second Voice, should be expressed in a more sprightly and cheerful manner.
ADELAIDE A. PROCTER.