LESSON XXI. NORA'S VOW. BY WALTER SCOTT. 2 BEN-CHRUAICHAN, (ben-kroʻkan.) 1. HEAR What Highland Nora said: I would not wed the earlie's son!" 2. "A maiden's vows'," old Callum spoke', 3. "The swan'," she said, "the lake's clear breast May barter for the eagle's nest'; The Awe's fierce stream may backward turn'; 4. Still in the water-lily's shade Her wonted nest the wild swan made'; She's wedded to the earlie won'; son LESSON XXII. THE MORAL NATURE CONSTITUTES THE MAN. BY H. GILES. 1. THE moral nature is that which, in the highest sense, constitutes the man. Faithful to this', the man is true'; unfaithful to it', he is false. Now this, I say, belongs not to the class', not to the profession', not to the office', but distinctly to the man'. The moral feelings', then, are those in which he is most independent. These are his without hinderance' or limitation'; they are his absolutely and supremely. 2. The moral feelings need no external instrumentality'; they are complete in themselves'. The command of conscience to the will, and the answer of the will in obedience to it, constitute the perfection and sufficiency of virtue. This nothing can limit' or destroy. A right will' is right action'; and, though such a will be the movement of a spirit imprisoned in a body all paralyzed and moveless', it is stronger than the universe'. 3. Is not this a grand privilege of man', immortal man', that though he may not be able to stir a finger',-that though a moth may crush him',-that merely by a righteous will he is raised above the stars'; that by it he originates a good in the universe which the universe could not annihilate'; a good which can defy extinction, though all created energies of intelligence or matter were combined against it'? It is not thus with the desires and appetites': they do need an outward instrumentality! Without the outward instrumentality' they become occasions of uneasiness' and pain', and with it in the utmost fulness', they have yet no perfection'. 4. But a man whose moral nature is ascendant commands these. He is not the subject', but the superior', of circumstances. He is free'; nay, more, he is a king'; and, though this sovereignty may have been won by many desperate battles, once on the throne, and holding the scepter with a firm grasp, he has a royalty of which neither time nor accident can strip him. Years do not enfeeble', they ennoble' it; they do not dim', they brighten' it; they surround it with the halo of a purer atmosphere, and they draw men to do more affectionate homage to its venerable beauty 5. Mutability comes not near it; there is no power that it has cause to fear; there is no enemy that can prevail against it. It is the only royalty which revolutions cannot overturn. Neither does earthly estate interfere with its dominion or its grandeur. In the dungeon' or on the rack', at the stake' or on the scaffold', it contracts no infamy from its situation; nay, it is the more resplendent in its kingliness. It is not often found in palaces', but, when within them', it is their finest presence. It does not always rule in the breasts of monarchs'; but, when it does', it marks them truly for the Lord's anointed'. 6. It is the real inspiration of a princely nature; and, where it is absent, a star is but a dazzling blotch, and a scepter but a mischievous or a foolish bauble. It has no sure promise of worldly goods; it is not always attended with outward prosperity; it has not always gay dwellings, and sometimes it has none; it needs no show of outward pomp; it has no regal costume, no royal banquets; it does not, by any virtue of its dignity, wear purple and fine linen, or fare sumptuously every day; but, without whereon to lay its head', it may yet be of that celestial eminence which angels gaze on to admire'; covered with rags and sickness', it may be odious to the sight of mortals', and yet be precious in the sight of Heaven'. LESSON XXIII. EXCELSIOR. BY H. W. LONGFELLOW. 1. THE shades of night were falling fast, 2. His brow was sad; his eye beneath 3. In happy homes he saw the light Of household fires gleam warm and bright; Above, the spectral glaciers shone ; 4. "Try not the pass'!" the old man said; 5. "Beware the pine-tree's wither'd branch. This was the peasant's last good-night; 6. At break of day, as heavenward 7. A traveler, by the faithful hound, 8. There in the twilight, cold and gray', LESSON XXIV. THANATOPSIS. BY W. C. BRYANT. 1. To him', who in the love of nature holds 2. 3. Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Of the stern agony', and shroud', and pall', To Nature's teaching, while from all around— Earth', that nourish'd thee', shall claim To be a brother to th' insensible rock And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain Shalt thou retire alone,-nor couldst thou wish The hills', Rock-ribb'd', and ancient as the sun'; the vales', The venerable woods'; rivers that move In majesty', and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green'; and, pour'd round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste', Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun', |