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blazed with the brilliancy of fire', as he slowly drew his length along the sand', and prepared to make a spring upon his formidable antagonist'.

4. The gladiator's eye quailed not'; his lip paled not'; but he stood immovable as a statue, waiting the approach of his wary foe'. At length the lion crouched himself into an attitude for springing, and, with the quickness of lightning, leaped full at the throat of the gladiator. But he was prepared for him'; and, bounding lightly on one side', his falchion flashed for a moment over his head', and, in the next', it was deeply dyed in the purple blood of the monster'. A roar of redoubled fury again resounded through the spacious amphitheater, as the enraged animal, mad with anguish from the wound he had just received, wheeled hastily round and sprung a second time at the Nazarene.

5. Again was the falchion of the cool and intrepid gladiator deeply planted in the breast of his terrible adversary; but so sudden had been the second attack, that it was impossible to avoid the full impetus of his bound, and he staggered and fell upon his knee. The monster's paw was upon his shoulder, and he felt his hot fiery breath upon his cheek as it rushed through his wide-distended nostrils. The Nazarene drew a short dagger from his girdle, and endeavored to regain his feet.

6. But his foe, aware of his design, precipitating himself upon him, threw him with violence to the ground. The excitement of the populace was now wrought up to a high pitch, and they waited the result with breathless suspense. A low growl of satisfaction now announced the noble animal's triumph, as he sprang fiercely upon his prostrate enemy. But it was of short duration: the dagger of the gladiator pierced his vitals, and together they rolled, over and over, across the broad arena.

7. Again the dagger drank deep of the monster's blood, and again a roar of anguish reverberated through the stately edifice. The Nazarene', now watching his opportunity', sprung with the velocity of thought from the terrific embrace of his enfeebled antagonist'; and regaining his falchion', which had fallen to the ground in the struggle', he buried it deep in the heart of the infuriated beast'. The noble king of the forest', faint from the loss of blood', concentrated all his remaining strength in one mighty bound': but it was too late'; the last blow had been driven home to the center of life, and his huge form fell with a mighty crash upon the arena, amid the thundering acclamations of the populace.

LESSON XLIV.

THE GLADIATOR.

BY JONES.

1. THEY led a lion from his den',

The lord of Afric's sun-scorch'd plain';
And there he stood, stern foe of men,
And shook his flowing mane.
There's not, of all Rome's heroes, ten
That dare abide this game.

His bright eye naught of lightning lack'd';
His voice was like the cataract'.

2. They brought a dark-hair'd man along,

Whose limbs with gyves of brass were boul;
Youthful he seem'd, and bold and strong,
And yet unscath'd of wound.
Blithely he stepp'd among the throng,

And careless threw around

A dark eye, such as courts the path
Of him who braves the Dacian's wrath.

3. Then shouted the plebeian crowd',

Rung the glad galleries with the sound';
And from the throne there spake aloud
A voice:- -"Be the bold man unbound'!
And by Rome's scepter', yet unbow'd',
By Rome, earth's monarch crown'd',
Who dares the bold', the unequal strife',
Though doom'd to death', shall save his life."

4. Joy was upon that dark man's face';

And thus, with laughing eye, spake he:-
"Loose ye the lord of Zaara's waste',
And let my arms be free':

'He has a martial heart,' thou sayest:
But oh! who will not be

A hero, when he fights for life,

For home and country, babes and wife?"

5. "And thus I for the strife prepare:
The Thracian falchion to me bring;
But ask th' imperial leave to spare
The shield, a useless thing.
Were I a Samnite's rage to dare,
Then o'er me would I fling
The broad orb; but to lion's wrath
The shield were but a sword of lath."

And he has bared his shining blade',
And springs he on the shaggy foe';
Dreadful the strife', but briefly play'd':
The desert-king lies low':

His long and loud death-howl is made;
And there must end the show.
And, when the multitude were calm,
The favorite freedman took the palm.

7. "Kneel down', Rome's emperor beside'!" He knelt, that dark man.

O'er his brow

Was thrown a wreath in crimson dyed;

And fair words gild it now:

"Thou art the bravest youth that ever tried
To lay a lion low;

And from our presence forth thou go'st
To lead the Dacians of our host."

8. Then flush'd his cheek', but not with pride',
And grieved and gloomily spake he:-
"My cabin stands where blithely glide
Proud Danube's waters to the sea:
I have a young and blooming bride',
And I have children three':
No Roman wealth or rank can give
Such joy as in their arms to live.

9. "My wife sits at the cabin-door',

With throbbing heart and swollen eyes';
While tears her cheek are coursing o'er',
She speaks of sunder'd ties'.
She bids my tender babes deplore
The death their father dies:
She tells these jewels of my home',
I bleed to please the rout of Rome.

10. "I cannot let those cherubs stray
Without their sire's protecting care';
And I would chase the griefs away
Which cloud my wedded fair."
The monarch spoke'; the guards obey';
And gates uncloséd are':

He's gone! No golden bribes divide
The Dacian from his babes and bride.

LESSON XLV.

THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS.

BY CHARLES SPRAGUE.

1. Nor many generations ago', where you now sit, encircled with all that exalts and embellishes civilized life', the rank thistle nodded in the wind', and the wild fox dug his hole unscared'. Here lived and loved another race of beings. Beneath the same. sun that rolls over your head', the Indian hunter pursued the panting deer'; gazing on the same moon that smiles for you', the Indian lover wooed his dusky mate'. Here the wigwam-blaze beamed on the tender and the helpless'; the council-fire glared on the wise and the daring'.

2. Now they dipped their noble limbs in your sedgy lakes', and now they paddled their light canoe along your rocky shores. "Here they warred'; the echoing whoop', the bloody grapple', the defying death-song', all were here; and, when the tigerstrife was over', here curled the smoke of peace. Here', too', they worshipped'; and from many a dark bosom went up a pure prayer to the Great Spirit. He had not written his laws for them on tables of stone', but he had traced them on the tables of their hearts'.

3. The poor child of Nature knew not the God of revelation', but the God of the universe he acknowledged in every thing around. He beheld him in the star that sank in beauty behind his lonely dwelling; in the sacred orb that flamed on him from his mid-day throne': in the flower that snapped in the morning breeze'; in the lofty pine that had defied a thousand whirlwinds'; in the timid warbler that never left its native grove'; in the fearless eagle whose untired pinion was wet in clouds'; in the worm that crawled at his feet'; and in his own matchless form, glowing with a spark of that light to whose mysterious source he bent in humble though blind adoration.

4. And all this has passed away. Across the ocean came a pilgrim bark', bearing the seeds of life and death'. The former were sown for you; the latter sprang up in the path of the simple native. Two hundred years have changed the character of a great continent, and blotted forever from its face a whole, peculiar people. Art has usurped the bowers of nature, and the anointed children of education have been too powerful for the tribes of the ignorant. Here and there a stricken few remain'; but how unlike their bold', untamed', untamable progenitors! The Indian of falcon-glance', and lion-bearing', the theme of the touching ballad, the hero of the pathetic tale, is gone! and his degraded offspring crawl upon the soil where he walked in majesty, to remind us how miserable is man when the foot of the conqueror is on his neck.

5. As a race they have withered from the land. Their arrows are broken', their springs are dried up', their cabins are in the dust'. Their council-fire has long since gone out on the shore, and their war-cry is fast dying away to the untrodden West. Slowly and sadly they climb the distant mountains' and read their doom in the setting sun. They are shrinking before the mighty tide that is pressing them away; they must soon hear the roar of the last wave which will settle over them forever. Ages nence, the inquisitive white man', as he stands by some growing city', will ponder on the structure of their disturbed remains, and wonder to what manner of persons they belonged'. They will live only in the songs and chronicles of their exterminators. Let these be faithful to their rude virtues as men, and pay due tribute to their unhappy fate as a people.

LESSON XLVI.

HYMN OF THE CHEROKEE INDIAN.

BY J. MOLELLAN.

1. LIKE the shadows in the stream',
Like the evanescent gleam
Of the twilight's failing blaze',
Like the fleeting years and days',
Like all things that soon decay',
Pass the Indian tribes away'.

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