another meadow, and flung itself into the sea, over the precipi. tous sides of a cliff which it covered with foam. It was a happy stream; it had literally nothing to do beyond what I have said, — to flow, to bubble, to look limpid, to murmur amid flowers and sweet per'fumes.82 But the world is ever jealous of the happiness of gentle indolence.

3. One day my brother Eugene, and Savage, the cleverEI engineer, were talking together on the banks of the stream, and to a certain degree abusing it. “There,” said my brother, “is a fine good-for-nothing stream for you, forsooth! winding and daw. dling about, dancing in the sunshine, and revelling in the grass, instead of working and paying for the place it takes up, as an honest stream should. Could it not be made to grind coffee or pepper ?”—“ Or tools?” added Savage. -- " Or to saw boards ?” said my brother. I trembled for the stream, and broke off the conversation, complaining that they were trampling on my forgetme-not bed. Alas! it was agaiust these two alone that I could piJtect the devoted streamiet.

4. Before long there came into our neighborhood a man whom I noticed more than once hanging about the spot where the stream emptieso itself into the sea. The fellow,94 I plainly saw, was neither seeking for rhymes nor indulging in rev'eries upon its banks; he was not lulling thought to rest with the gentle murmur of its waters. “My good friend," he was saying to the stream, “there you are, idling and meändering about, singing to your heart's content, while I am working and wearing myself out. I don't see why you should not help nie a bit ; as yet you know nothing of the work to be done, but I will soon show you. You will soon know how to set about it. You must find it dull to stay in this way, doing nothing; it would be a change for you to make files or grind knives.”

5. Very soon138 wheels of all kinds were brought to the poor stream. From that day forward it has worked and turned a great wheel, which turns a little wheel, which turns a grindstone: it still sings, but no longer the same gently-monot'onous song in its peaceful melancholy. Its song is loud and angry now; it leaps and froths and works now, -it grinds knives! It still crosses the meadow, and my garden, and the next meadow ; but there the man is on the watch for it, to make it work. I have done the only thing I could do for it. I have dug a new bed for it in my garden, so that it may idle longer there, and leave me a little later ; but, for all that, it must go at last and grind knives. Poor stream ! thou didst not sufficiently conceal thy happiness in obscurity ; - thou hast murmured too audibly thy gentle music.

FROM THE PRINCE OF ALPHONSE BARE

XLVIII. — A RETR JSPECTIVE" REVIEW.

1. O, WHEN I was a tiny boy,
My days and nights were full of joy,

My mates were blitle and kind !
No wonder that I sometimes sigh,
And dash the tear-drop from my eye,

To cast a look behind !

2. A hoop was an eternal round
Of pleasure. In those days I found

A top a joyous thing ;
But now those past delights I drop ;
My head, alas! is all my top,

And careful thoughts the string !

3. My kite, 131 how fast and far it flew !
Whilst I, a sort of Franklin, e drew

My pleasure from the sky!
'T was papered o'er with studious themes,
The tasks I wrote, - my present91 dreams

Will never soar so high!

4. My joys are wingless all and dead;
My dumpsel are made of more than lead

My flights soon find a fall.
My fears prevail, my fancies droop,
Joy never cometh with a hoop,

And seldom with a call!

5. My football 's laid upon the shelf;
I am a shuttlecock myself

The world knocks to and fro;
My archery is all unlearned,
And grief against myself has turned

My arrows and my bow!

6. No more in noontide sun I bask;
My authorship 's an endless task;

My head 's ne'er out of school.
My heart is pained with scorn and slight,
I have too many foes to fight,
. And friends grow strangely cool !

. No skies so blue or no serene
As then ; - no leaves look half so green

As clothed the playground tree;
All things I loved are ultered so! –
Nor does it ease my heart to know

That change resides in we!

8. O, for the garb that marked the boy,
The trousers made of corduroy, u

Well inked with black and red ,
The crownless hat, ne'er deemed an ill-
It only let the sunshine still

Repose upon my head !
9. O, for the lessons learned by heart!
Ay, though the very birch's smart

Should mark those hours again ;
I'd “kiss the rod,” and be resigned
Beneath the stroke, and even find

Some sugar in the cane!

10. When that I was a tiny boy,
My days and nights were full of joy,

My mates were blithe and kind!
No wonder that I sometimes sigh,
And dash the tear-drop from my eye,
To cast a look behind !

THOXAS HOOD

XLIX. — ADDRESS TO THE INDOLENT.

From “ THE CASTLE81 OF INDOLENCE." 1. Is not the field with lively culture green

A sight more joyous than the dead morăss ?
Do not the skies, with active e'ther clean,
And fanned by sprightly zephyrs, far surpass
The foul NovemberEl fogs, and slumberous mass,
With which sad Nature veils her drooping face?
Does not the mountain-stream, as clear as glass,
Gay dancing on, the putrid pool disgrace? -
The same in all holds true, but chiet in human race.

2. It was not by vile loitering in ease

That Greeceti obtained the brighter palm57 of art,
That soft yet ardent Athengs Tearnt to please,
To keen El the wit, and to sublime the heart,
In all supreme complete in every part !
It was not thence majestic Romes arose,
And o'er the nations shook her conquering dart!
For sluggard's brow the laure El never grows;
Renown is not the child of indolent repose.

3. Had unambitious mortals minded naught

But in loose joy their time to wear away,
Had they alone the lap of dalliance sought,
Pleased on her pillow their dull heads to lay,--

Rude Nature's state had been ourlis state to-day;
No cities e erEl their towery fronts had raised,
No arts had made us opulent and gity;
With brother-brutes the human race had grazed ;
None e'er had soared to fame, none honored been, none praised.

4. But should your hearts to fame unfeeling be,

If right I read, you pleasure all require :
Then see how best may be obtained this fee,
How best enjoyed this, nature's wide desire.
Toil, and be glad! let Industry inspire
Into your quickened limbs her buoyanta breath!
Who does not act is dead; -absorptu entire
In miry sloth, no pride, no joy he hath ;
0, leaden-hearted men, to be in love with death!

5. Ah! what avail the largest gifts of Jlearen, **

When droopmy health and spirits go amiss?
Liow tasteless then whatever can be given !
Health is the vital principle of bliss,
And exercise of health. In proof of this,
Behold the wretch wbo slugs his life away,
Soon swallowed in disease's sad abyss,
While he whom toil has braced, or manly play,
Has light as air each limb), each thought as clear as day.

6. O, who can speak the vigorous joy of health,

Unclogged the body, unobscured the inind ?
The morning rises gay, with pleasing stealth,
The temperate evening falls serene and kind.
In health the wiser brutes true gladpowl find.
See! how the younglings frisk along the meais,
As Mayl connes on, and wakes the balmy wind ;116
Rampant with life, their joy all joy exceeds :
Yet what but high-strung hcalth this dancing pleasa uncez breeds

7. There are 16 I see, who listen to my lay,

Who wretched sigh for virtue, yet despair.
“ All may be done," methinks I hear them say,
“ Even death despised by generous actious fair,
All, but for those who to these bowers repair !
Their every power dieslved in luxury,
To quit of torpid sluggishness the lair,
And from the powerful arms of slöth get free_140
*T is rising from the dud: – Alus !-- it cannot be !"

8. Would you, then, learn to dissipate the hand

Of these huge threatening difficulties dire, 1.56
That in the weak man's way like lious stand,
His soul appall,24 and damp his rising tire ?

Resolve, - resolve! and to be men aspire.
Exert that noblest privilege, — alone
Here to mankinder indulged: - control desire !
Let godlike Reason, from her sovereign throne,
Speak the commanding word, I will ? — and it is done.

THOMSON.

L. — THE TEACHINGS OF NATURE. 1. Among the disciples of Hillel, the wise teacher of the song of Israël, was one named Saboth, who was averse to labor; and he gave himself up to sloth and idleness. But Hillel sor. rowed over the youth, and resolved to turn him from the error of his ways. For this purpose, he led him out into the valley of Hinnom, near Jerusalem. There was here a stagnant pool, full of worms and insects, and covered with slimy weeds.

2. When they reached the valley, Hillel laid his staff upon the ground and said, “We will rest here on our way." But the youth wondered, and answered, “ How, master! by this loathsome pool ? Dost thou not see the poisonous vapor that ascends therefrom?” -“Thou art right, my son!” answered the teacher; " this pool is like the soul of the sluggard. Who would tarry

near it?”

3. Hillel now led the youth to a barren field, upon which grew naught but thorns and thistles, that choked the wheat 54 and the healthful herbs. Hillel here leaned upon his staff, and said, “ Behold, the soil of this field is good, and it is able to bring forth useful and salutary fruits. But it has been forgotten and neglected. Therefore it now produces prickly thorns and thistles, and poisonous weeds ; snakes and toads dwell therein. In the pool thou didst see the soul, 118 here recognize the life of the slug. gard."

4. Then Saboth was filled with shame and repentance, and he said, “ Master, whereforek dost thou lead me into these waste and dreary places? They are the rebuking emblems of my soul and of my life.” And Hillel said, “ As thou wouldst not hearken to my words, I have tried whether the voice of Nature would not speak with greater power to thee."

5. Saboth then clasped his teacher's hand, and said, “O, it has penetrated my heart, and thou wilt, henceforth, see that a new life has arisen within me.” And so it was. Saboth became an active and industrious youth. Hillel then led him into a fair and fertile valley, by the banks of a clear stream, which flowed in pleasant windings between fruitful trees, flowering meadows, and dark-green bushes.