East and the South on one side, the West and the North on the other; in short, two worlds, the civilization of Africa and the civilization of Europe. They measure each other from head to foot. They gather all their forces. Gradually the war kindles. The world takes fire.

She ut

4. These colossal powers are locked in deadly strife. Carthage has crossed the Alps; Rome, the seas. The two nations, personified in two men, Hannibal* and Scipio,† close with each other, wrestle, and grow infuriate. The duel is desperate. It is a struggle for life. Rome wavers. ters that cry of anguish,- Hannibal at the gates! rallies, collects all her strength for one last, appalling effort, throws herself upon Carthage, and sweeps her from the face of the earth‡!

-

But she

Victor Hugo.

He

*Hannibal was the most illustrious of the Carthaginian generals. gained a series of great victories over the Romans; but was, at last, defeated by Scipio at the famous battle of Zama, fought B. C. 202. He was afterwards compelled to take refuge in Syria, when, to avoid falling into the hands of his enemies, he committed suicide 183 B. C.

+ Scipio, called, from his victories over the Carthaginians, Scipio Africa'nus, was one of the most celebrated of the Roman generals. He died 183 B. C., in exile, having been unjustly accused by his ungrateful countrymen of embezzling some of the spoils of the vanquished Syrians.

Three great wars were waged between the two rival republics, Rome and Carthage, called the Punic Wars. In the second of these wars, Rome was, for a time, by the daring and brilliant military genius of Hannibal, brought to the greatest extremity of peril; but she was saved by the victories of Scipio. The third Punic war was brought on by the continued jealousy of Rome toward her rival, and her determination to destroy her. Cato, one of the Roman senators, ended every one of his speeches with the words, 'Carthage must be destroyed." Carthage knew her weakness, and complied with every demand of her enemy, till the people were told they must abandon their city, so that it might be destroyed. Then, with the energy of despair, they made a brave but unavailing resistance. The city was taken and set on fire, and continued to burn for seventeen days. The fortifications were razed, and the site on which it stood was cleared of every habitation. This memorable event occurred 146 B. C.

LESSON CIII.

THE NAUTILUS AND THE AMMONITE.

1. The nautilus* and the ammonite +

Were launched in friendly strife;
Each sent to float, in its tiny boat,

On the wide, wild sea of life.

For each could swim on the ocean's brim,
And when wearied its sail could furl,
And sink to sleep in the great sea-deep,
In its palace all of pearl.

2. And theirs was a bliss more fair than this
Which we taste in our colder clime;
For they were rife in tropic life,-
A brighter and better clime.

They swam 'mid isles whose summer smiles
Were dimmed by no alloy;

Whose groves were palm, whose air was balm,
And life one only joy!

3. They sailed all day through creek and bay,
And traversed the ocean deep;

And at night they sank on a coral bank,
In its fairy bowers to sleep.

* Nau'ti lus, an aquatic animal, belonging to the genus mollusca, interesting as the representative of an order of which very few species now remain, although in former periods they were exceedingly numerous, as shown by the fossil remains. It usually inhabits the bottom of the sea; but it can rise to the surface of the water, and float in its shell, as in a boat, thrusting out its head and arms, which assume somewhat the appearance of a sail. Hence the fable that the nautilus spreads a sail.

+ Am'mon ite, an extinct species of molluscs, nearly allied to the nautilus. Both probably existed together in former times.

And the monsters vast* of ages past
They beheld in their ocean-caves;

They saw them ride in their power and pride,
And sink in their deep sea-graves.

4. And hand in hand, from strand to strand,
They sailed in mirth and glee;

These fairy shells, with their crystal cells,
Twin sisters of the sea.

And they came at last to a sea long past,
But as they reached its shore,

The Almighty's breath spoke out in death,
And the ammonite lived no more.

5. So the nautilus now, in its shelly prow,
As over the deep it strays,

Still seems to seek, in bay and creek,
Its companion of other days.

And alike do we, on life's stormy sea,

As we roam from shore to shore,
Thus tempest-tossed, seek the loved, the lost,
But find them on earth no more.

6. Yet the hope, how sweet, again to meet,
As we look to a distant strand;

When heart meets heart, and no more they part,

Who meet in that better land.

G. F. Richardson.

* In the early periods of the earth's history, we learn, by the researches of geologists, that there were many huge and monstrous animals, which are now extinct. Such were the ichthyosaurus and the plē si o saurus, two marine animals; the former lizard-like in shape and habits, the latter having a neck of enormous length, and head like a serpent's, with paddles like those of a whale. These creatures were of enormous size. It is to these and others of a similar character that the poet refers, when he speaks of the "monsters vast of ages past."

LESSON CIV.

WILLIAM TELL.

1. "Place there the boy," the tyrant said; "Fix me the apple on his head.

There is a fair mark for thy shaft;

There, try thy boasted archer-craft!”
And hoarsely the dark Austrian laughed.
With quivering brow

The Switzer gazed; his cheek grew pale;
His bold lips throbbed, as if would fail
Their laboring breath.

"Ha! so you blench?" fierce Gesler cried. "I've conquered, slave, thy soul of pride!" No word to that stern taunt replied,

All still as death.

2. "And what the meed?" at length Tell asked. "Bold fool! when slaves like thee are tasked,

It is MY WILL ;

But that thine eye may keener be,
And nerved to such nice archery,
If thou succeed'st, THOU GOEST FREE.
What! pause ye still?

Give him a bow and arrow there,

One shaft, but one." Madness, despair,
And tortured love,

One moment swept the Switzer's face;

Then passed away each stormy trace,
And high resolve reigned like a grace
Caught from above.

tr

3. "I take thy terms," he murmured low;
Grasped eagerly the proffered bow;
The quiver searched ;

Chose out an arrow keen and long,
Fit for a sinewy arm and strong;
Placed it upon the sounding thong,
The tough yew arched.

Deep stillness fell on all around;

Through that dense crowd was heard no sound
Of step or word:

All watched with fixed and shuddering eye,
To see that fearful arrow fly;

The light wind died into a sigh,
And scarcely stirred.

4. The gallant boy stood firm and mute;
He saw the strong bow curved to shoot,
Yet never moved!

He knew that pale fear ne'er unmanned
The daring coolness of that hand
He knew it was the father scanned
The boy he loved!

Slow rose the shaft; it trembled,

hung.

"My only boy!" gasped on his tongue :

He could not aim !

"Ha!" cried the tyrant, "doth he quail?

He shakes his haughty brow is pale!"

Shoot!" cried a low voice. "Canst thou fail?

Shoot, in Heaven's name!"

5. Again the drooping shaft he took,

And cast to Heaven one burning look,

Of all doubts reft: