The snow-drop and the eglantine,
Preach sermons as we pass.
The ant, within its cavern deep,
Would bid us labor too,
And writes upon its tiny heap,
"There's work enough to do."

3. The planets, at their Maker's will,
Move onward in their cars;

For nature's wheel is never still,-
Progressive as the stars!

The leaves that flutter in the air,
And summer breezes woo,
One solemn truth to man declare,
"There's work enough to do."

4. Who then can sleep, when all around (<) Is active, fresh, and free?

Shall Man, creation's lord, be found
Less busy than the bee'?

Our courts and alleys are the field,

If men would search them through, That best the sweets of labor yield, And "work enough to do."

5. The time is short,-the world is wide, And much has to be done;

This wondrous earth, and all its pride,
Will vanish with the sun!

The moments fly on lightning's wings,
And life's uncertain too;

We've none to waste on foolish things,

"There's work enough to do."

1.

IF

LESSON IV.

FIELDS FOR LABOR.

you can not on the ocean
Sail among the swiftest fleet,
Rocking on the highest billows,
Laughing at the storms you meet,
You can stand among the sailors,
Anchored yet within the bay,
You can lend a hand to help them
As they launch their boats away.

2. If you are too weak to journey

Up the mountain steep and high,
You can stand within the valley
While the multitudes go by;
You can chant in happy measures
As they slowly pass along;
Though they may forget the singer,
They will not forget the song.

3. If you have not gold or silver
Ever ready to command,
If you can not toward the needy
Reach an ever-open hand,

You can visit the afflicted,

O'er the erring you can weep;

You can be a true disciple
Sitting at the Master's feet.

4. If you can not in the conflict Prove yourself a soldier true,

If, where fire and smoke are thickest,
There's no work for you to do,
When the battle-field is silent

You can go with careful tread,
You can bear away the wounded,
You can cover up the dead.

5. Do not then stand idly waiting
For some greater work to do:
Fortune is a lazy goddess,

She will never come to you.
Go and toil in any vineyard,
Do not fear to do or dare;
you want a field of labor,
You can find it anywhere.

If

LESSON V.

1 HEL' I CON, a mountain in Bœotia, Greece, supposed by the Greeks to be the residence of Apollo and the Muses.

A POL' LO, among the Greeks and Romans, was the presiding deity of archery, prophecy, music, and medicine; and president and protector of the Muses.

MU' SES, the fabled goddesses who presided over literary, artistic, and scientific matters and labors; the geniuses of art, literature, or music.

WHERE THERE'S A WILL, THERE'S A WAY.

1.

J. G. SAXE.

T was a noble Roman,

In Rome's imperial day,
Who heard a coward croaker,
Before the castle, say,

QUESTION.

To all the prize is open,

But only he can take it,

Who says, with Roman courage,

"I'LL FIND A WAY, OR MAKE IT!"

What rule for the rising inflections, as marked at the first

line in the 2d, 3d, and 4th stanzas? See page 28.

LESSON VI.

1 CURL' ER, a player at the game called curling, which consists in propelling by the hand a heavy weight, as a large stone or mass of iron, along the surface of the ice, so as to strike another heavy weight, and drive it in any given direction.

MAN

THE OFFICES OF MEMORY.

ISLAY BURNS.

AN alone, of all the creatures on the earth, carries about with him a three-fold life. He exists at once in the past, in the present, and in the future. Memory, on the one hand, and hope, on the other, reveal, each of them, a world of its own, besides the world of real passing istence, and in all these worlds every one of us lives. The one looks backward, the other forward; the one lives in yesterday, the other in to-morrow. The one watches the setting sun of the past, the other salutes the dawning morn of the future. Hope, in short, sanguine and light-hearted, builds airy castles in the future sky; memory wanders, thoughtful and sad, amid the moldering ruins and withered leaves of the past.

2. You have all a great deal to do, my young friends, with memory. Every day you have to make use of it, if in no other way, at least, in the learning of those appointed tasks, in which now the main business of your life consists. You have, in fact, as much to do with your memory, as the workman has to do with his tools, and should, therefore, not only know a great deal about it, but be interested to know more. But it may be, that while daily using, you have not thought enough of this wondrous gift of God,— of its nature, its uses, its reponsibilities, its blessings. What then is the memory?

3. MEMORY IS AN HISTORIAN.—Every human being,