5. And ever near us, though unseen, The dear immortal spirits tread ; For all the boundless universe

Is life-There are no dead.

SIR EDWARD BULWER.

CXXIII. MY MOTHER'S BIBLE.

1. This book is all that's left me now;
(Tears will unbidden start;)

With faltering lip and throbbing brow
press it to my heart.

I

For many generations past,

Here is our family tree:

My inother's hands this Bible clasped;
She, dying, gave it me.

2. Ah! well do I remember those

Whose name these records bear;

Who round the hearth-stone used to close
After the evening prayer,

And speak of what these pages said,
In tones my heart would thrill!
Though they are with the silent dead,
Here are they living still!

3. My father read this holy book
To brothers, sisters dear.

How calm was my poor mother's look,
Who loved God's word to hear;
Her angel face- I see it yet!

What thronging memories come;

Again that little group is met
Within the halls of home.

4. Thou truest friend man ever knew,
Thy constancy I've tried;

Where all were false, I found thee true,
My counselor and guide.

The mines of earth no treasures give
That could this volume buy:

In teaching me the way to live,
It taught me how to die.

GEORGE P. MORRIS.

CXXIV.-PHILLIPS ON AMERICA.

1. If, as a man, I venerate the mention of America, what must be my feelings toward her as an Irishman! Never, O! never, while memory remains, can Ireland forget the home of her emigrant, and the asylum of her exile.

2. No matter whether their sorrows sprung from the errors of enthusiasm or the realities of suffering, from fancy or infliction; that must be reserved for the scrutiny of those whom the lapse of time shall acquit of partiality. It is for the men of other ages to investigate and record it; but surely it is for the men of every age to hail the hospitality that received the shelterless, and love the feeling that befriended the unfortunate.

3. Search creation round, where can you find a country that presents so sublime a view, so interesting an anticipation? What noble institutions! What a comprehensive policy! What a wise equalization of every political advantage!

4. The oppressed of all countries, the martyrs of every creed, the innocent victim of despotic arrogance or superstitious frenzy, may there find refuge; his industry encouraged, his piety respected, his ambition animated;

with no restraint, but those laws which are the same to all, and no distinction but that which his merit may originate.

5. Who can deny that the existence of such a country presents a subject for human congratulation? Who can deny that its gigantic advancement offers a field for the most rational conjecture? At the end of the very next century, if she proceeds as she seems to promise, what a wondrous spectacle may she not exhibit.

6. Who shall say for what purpose a mysterious Providence may not have designed her. Who shall say that when, in its follies or its crimes, the old world may have interred all the pride of its power, and all the pomp of its civilization, human nature may not find its destined renovation in the new.

7. For myself, I have no doubt of it. I have not the least doubt, that when our temples and our trophies shall have moldered into dust, when the glories of our name shall be but the legend of tradition, and the light of our achievements only live in song,-philosophy will rise again in the sky of her Franklin, and glory rekindle at the urn of her Washington.

CXXV.-RIENZI'S ADDRESS TO THE ROMANS.

1.

Friends,

I come not here to talk. Ye know too well
The story of our thraldom. We are slaves!
The bright sun rises to his course, and lights
A race of slaves. He sets, and his last beam
Falls on a slave. Not such as, swept along
By the full tide of power, the conqueror leads
To crimson glory and undying fame;
But base, ignoble slaves-slaves to a horde

2.

Of petty despots, feudal tyrants; lords,
Rich in some dozen paltry villages;

Strong in some hundred spearmen, only great
In that strange spell, a name.

Each hour, dark fraud,

Or open rapine, or protected murder,

Cry out against them. But this very day,
An honest man-my neighbor; there he stands;
Was struck struck like a dog-by one who wore
The badge of Ursini; because, forsooth,
He tossed not high his ready cap in air,
Nor lifted up his voice in servile shouts,
At sight of that great ruffian. Be we men,
And suffer such dishonor? - men, and wash not
The stain away in blood? Such shames are common.
I have known deeper wrongs,-I that speak to ye,

3. I had a brother once, a gracious boy,

Full of all gentleness, of calmest hope,
Of sweet and quiet joy. O, how I loved
That gracious boy! Younger by fifteen years;
Brother at once and son. He left my side;
A summer-bloom on his fair cheeks, a smile
Parting his innocent lips. In one short hour
The pretty harmless boy was slain! I saw
His corse, his mangled corse; and then I cried
For vengeance. Rouse ye, Romans! rouse ye, slaves!

4. Have ye brave sons? Look in the next fierce brawl
To see them die. Have ye fair daughters? Look
To see them live, torn from your arms distained,
Dishonored; and if ye dare to call for justice,
Be answered with the lash! Yet this is Rome
That sat on her seven hills,
Of beauty ruled the earth!

and from her throne And we are Romans!

MARY RUSSELL MITFORD.

CXXVI. THE CHURCH BELL.

1. Of all musical instruments, it is by far the grandest, solemn or deep, or shrill and clear; or, still better, with both combined in a choral peal, it is the only instrument whose music can travel on the winds, can heave in noble swells upon the breeze, and can outbellow the storm. It alone speaks to heaven as to earth, and scatters abroad its sounds, till in the distance they seem to come but by fragments and broken notes.

2. Every other instrument creeps on earth, or sends its sounds skimming over its surface; but this pours it out from above, like the shower or the light, or whatever comes from the higher regions to benefit those below. Indeed, it seems to call out from the middle space which heavenly messengers would occupy, to make proclamation to man; condescending to an inferior sphere, but not wholly deigning to soil themselves with earth; high enough to command, low enough to be understood.

3. The Levite trumpet had something startling and military in it, that spoke of alarms and human passions; every other vocal instrument belongs to the world (excepting, perhaps, the noble organ, too huge and too delicately constructed for out-of-doors), and associates itself with profane amusements; but the solemn old bell has refused to lend itself for any such purpose, and as it swings to and fro, receiving its impulses from the temple of God below, talks of nothing but sacred things, and now reproves the laggard, and now cheers the sorrowful, and now chides the over-mirthful.

CARDINAL WISEMAN.

Don't run in debt. If the clothes are faded and torn, fix them up. They will be easier to wear than a faded and torn heart.