star of his country rise; pouring out his generous blood like water, before he knew whether it would fertilize1 a land of freedom or of bondage!-how shall I struggle with the emotions that stifle the utterance of thy name! Our poor work may perish, but thine shall endure. This monument may molder away; the solid ground it rests upon may sink down to a level with the sea: but thy memory shall not fail. Wheresoever among men a heart shall be found that beats to the transports of patriotism and liberty, its aspirations shall be to claim kindred with thy spirit.

WEBSTER.

74.-A Picture of Dawn.

This vivid and eloquent extract is from Edward Everett's magnificent oration on the "Uses of Astronomy," delivered on the occasion of the opening of the Dudley Observatory at Albany, N.Y., in 1858.

The great object of all knowledge is to enlarge and purify the soul, to fill the mind with noble contemplations, and to furnish a refined pleasure. Considering this as the ultimate end of science, no branch of it can surely claim precedence of astronomy. No other science furnishes such a palpable embodiment of the abstractions which lie at the foundation of our intellectual system,the great ideas of time, and space, and extension, and magnitude, and number, and motion, and power.

How grand the conception of the ages on ages required

1 blood... fertilize. What is 2 precedence (pre-sē'dens), prithe figure of speech? (See Def. 3.) ority in place.

1

for several of the secular equations of the solar system; of distances from which the light of a fixed star would not reach us in twenty millions of years; of magnitudes compared with which the earth is but a foot-ball; of starry hosts, suns like our own, numberless as the sands on the shore; of worlds and systems shooting through the infinite spaces with a velocity compared with which the cannon-ball is a wayworn, heavy-paced traveler.2

Much, however, as we are indebted to our observatories for elevating our conceptions of the heavenly bodies, they present, even to the unaided sight, scenes of glory which words are too feeble to describe.

I had occasion, a few weeks since, to take the early train from Providence to Boston, and for this purpose rose at two o'clock in the morning. Every thing around was wrapped in darkness and hushed in silence, broken only by what seemed at that hour the unearthly clank and rush of the train. It was a mild, serene midsummer's night; the sky was without a cloud; the winds were whist. The moon, then in the last quarter, had just risen, and the stars shone with a spectral luster but little affected by her presence. Jupiter, two hours high, was the herald of the day; the Pleiades, just above the hori

4 herald of the day; i.e., the Bear"), by means of which the morning star.

Pole-star is readily found.

zon, shed their sweet influence in the east; Lyra sparkled near the zenith; Andromeda veiled her newly discovered glories from the naked eye in the south; the steady Pointers, far beneath the pole, looked meekly up from the depths of the north to their sovereign.

1

Such was the glorious spectacle as I entered the train. As we proceeded, the timid approach of twilight became more perceptible; the intense blue of the sky began to soften; the smaller stars, like little children, went first to rest; the sister-beams of the Pleiades soon melted together; but the bright constellations of the west and north remained unchanged. Steadily the wondrous transfiguration went on. Hands of angels, hidden from mortal eyes, shifted the scenery of the heavens; the glories of night dissolved into the glories of the dawn.

The blue sky now turned more softly gray; the great watch-stars shut up their holy eyes; the east began to kindle. Faint streaks of purple soon blushed along the sky; the whole celestial concave was filled with the inflowing tides of the morning light, which came pouring down from above in one great ocean of radiance; till at length, as we reached the Blue Hills, a flash of purple fire blazed out from above the horizon, and turned the dewy tear-drops of flower and leaf into rubies and diamonds. In a few seconds, the everlasting gates of the morning were thrown wide open, and the lord of day, arrayed in glories too severe for the gaze of man, began his course.

I do not wonder at the superstition of the ancient

1 like... rest. What is the figure of speech? (See Def. 2.)

2 lord of day. What is meant by this expression?

Magians,1 who in the morning of the world went up to the hill-tops of Central Asia, and, ignorant of the true God, adored the most glorious work of his hand. But I am filled with amazement, when I am told that in this enlightened age, and in the heart of the Christian world, there are persons who can witness this daily manifestation of the power and wisdom of the Creator, and yet say in their hearts, "There is no God."

EDWARD EVERETT.

75.-Story of John Maynard.

John Maynard was well known in the lake district as a God-fearing, honest, and intelligent pilot. He was pilot on a steamboat from Detroit to Buffalo. One summer afternoon - at that time those steamers seldom carried boats-smoke was seen ascending from below; and the captain called out,

"Simpson, go below, and see what the matter is down. there."

Simpson came up with his face pale as ashes, and said, "Captain, the ship is on fire."

Then "Fire! fire! fire!" on shipboard.

All hands were called up.

dashed on the fire, but in vain.

Buckets of water were

There were large quan

tities of rosin and tar on board, and it was found useless to attempt to save the ship. The passengers rushed forward, and inquired of the pilot,

1 Magians, or Magi, followers | worshipers of the sun and of of the religion of Zoroaster, — | fire.

"How far are we from Buffalo?"

"Seven miles."

"How long before we can reach there?"

"Three-quarters of an hour, at our present rate of

steam."

"Is there any danger?"

"Danger here! See the smoke bursting out! Go forward, if you would save your lives."

Passengers and crew-men, women, and children— crowded the forward part of the ship. John Maynard stood at the helm. The flames burst forth in a sheet of fire; clouds of smoke arose. The captain cried out through his trumpet,

"John Maynard!" "Ay, ay, sir!"

"Head her south-east, and run her on shore," said the captain.

Nearer, nearer, yet nearer, she approached the shore. Again the captain cried out,

"John Maynard!"

The response came feebly this time, “Ay, ay, sir!" "Can you hold on five minutes longer, John?" he said. "By God's help, I will."

The old man's hair was scorched from the scalp: one hand disabled, his knee upon the stanchion,1 and his teeth

1 stanchion (stănʼshun), an upright beam supporting the deck.