And succors those who never saw it." And there is not a man of us all who may not find his private sermon of unselfishness; patience, heroism, in that episode of the rude lives of common sailors and unkempt Esquimaux who made up the crew of the Polar Drift. Christian Union. Adapted.

WORD ANALYSIS AND DEFINITIONS.

Ep'isode, an incident separate from the main story, but related to it. Ice' berg (berg, a mountain), a mountain of ice, floating on the ocean. Ice'-floe or Ice-float; a large mass of floating ice.

Pem' mi can, preserved meat.

Un kempt (kemb, a comb), not combed; rough in appearance.

LESSON LXXXVIII.

A WINTER EVENING'S REFLECTIONS.

1 Shut in from all the world without,
We sat the clean-winged hearth about,
Content to let the north wind roar
In baffled rage at pane and door,
While the red logs before us beat
The frost-line back with tropic heat;
And ever, when a louder blast
Shook beam and rafter as it passed,
The merrier up its roaring draught
The great throat of the chimney laughed.

2. The house-dog, on his paws outspread,
Laid to the fire his drowsy head;
The cat's dark silhouette on the wall
A couchant tiger's seemed to fall;
And for the winter fireside meet,
Between the andirons' straddling feet,

The mug of cider simmered slow;
The apples sputtered in a row;
And, close at hand, the basket stood
With nuts from brown October's wood.

3. What matter how the night behaved?
What matter how the north wind raved?
Blow high, blow low, not all its snow
Could quench our hearth-fire's ruddy glow.
O Time and Change! with hair as gray
As was my sire's that winter day,
How strange it seems, with so much gone
Of life and love, to still live on!

4. Ah, brother! only I and thou
Are left of all that circle now,
The dear home-faces whereupon
That fitful fire-light paled and shone.
Henceforward, listen as we will,

The voices of that hearth are still;
Look where we may the wide earth o'er,
Those lighted faces smile no more.

5. We tread the paths their feet have worn; We sit beneath their orchard-trees;

We hear, like them, the hum of bees,
And rustle of the bladed corn;
We turn the pages which they read;

Their written words we linger o'er:
But in the sun they cast no shade,
No voice is heard, no sign is made,
No step is on the conscious floor!

6. Yet Love will dream, and Faith will trust,

(Since He who knows our need is just,)

That somehow, somewhere, meet we must.
Alas for him who never sees

The stars shine through his cypress-trees;
Who, hopeless, lays his dead away,
Nor looks to see the breaking day
Across the mournful marbles play;
Who hath not learned, in hours of faith,
The truth to flesh and sense unknown,
That Life is ever lord of Death,

And Love can never lose its own!

DEFINITIONS.

Whittier,

And' i rons, iron utensils for supporting wood in a fire-place.

Couch' ant, lying down.

Sil' hou ette (siľ oo et), a dark picture showing only the outlinese object, like a shadow.

Sim' mered, boiled gently, or with a slight hissing.

LESSON LXXXIX.

LIFE, TRUTH, AND FAITH.

FIRST VOICE.

There is a bleak Desert, where daylight grows weary
Of wasting its smile on a region so dreary,—
What may that Desert be?

SECOND VOICE.

'Tis Life, cheerless Life, where the few joys that come Are lost like that daylight, for 't is not their home.

FIRST VOICE.

There is a lone Pilgrim, before whose faint eyes
The water he pants for but sparkles and flies, -
Who may that Pilgrim be?

SECOND VOICE.

'Tis Man, hapless Man, through this life tempted on By fair, shining hopes, that in shining are gone.

FIRST VOICE.

There is a bright Fountain through that Desert stealing,
To pure lips alone its refreshment revealing, —
What may that Fountain be?

SECOND VOICE.

Tis Truth, holy Truth, that, like springs under ground,
By the gift of kind Heaven alone can be found.

FIRST VOICE.

There is a fair Spirit, whose wand hath the spell
To point where those waters in secrecy dwell,
"Who may that Spirit be?

SECOND VOICE.

Tas Faith, humble Faith, who hath learned that, where'er Her wand bends to worship, the Truth must be there!

LESSON XC.

THE WINTER WIND.

1. Restless wind of drear December,

Listened to by dying ember,

Do you hold the same sad meaning to all other hearts this

night?

Sweeping over land and ocean

With your mighty, rythmic motion,

Has your hasting brought swift wasting to their hope, and joy, and light?

2. To them does your passing darken

Night's black shadow as they hearken;

Filling it with mystic phantoms, such as throng some haunted spot

With the ghosts of joys and pleasures,

Tortures now that once were treasures ?

Does your sighing seem the crying of a soul for what is not?

3. Does the same weird, weary moaning

Seem to underlie your toning,

Whether risen in your strength, or sunk to wailing, fitful blast?

Do they hear wild, distant dirges

In your falls or in your surges ?

Does your swelling seem the knelling for a dead, unburied Past?

Anne M. Crane.

LESSON XCI.

CHRISTMAS FESTIVITY.

1. There is something in the very season of the year that gives a charm to the festivity of Christmas. At other times we derive a great portion of our pleasures from the mere beauties of nature. Our feelings sally forth and dissipate themselves over the sunny landscape, and we "live abroad and everywhere." The song of the bird, the murmur of the stream, the breathing fragrance of spring, the soft voluptuousness of summer, the golden pomp of autumn; earth with its mantle of refreshing green, and heaven with its deep, delicious blue and its cloudy magnificence, all fill us with mute but exquisite delight, and we revel in the luxury of mere sensation.