SPIRIT OF THE NATION.-E. D. BAKER-1861. THE national banners leaning from ten thousand windows in your city to-day, proclaim your affection and reverence for the Union. The ministers of religion, the priests of literature, the historians of the past, the illustrators of the present, capital, science, art, invention, discoveries, the works of genius-all these will attend us in our march, and we will conquer. And if, from the far Pacific, a voice feebler than the feeblest murmur upon its shore may be heard to give you courage and hope in the contest, that voice is yours to-day; and if a man whose hair is gray, who is well-nigh worn out in the battle and toil of life, may pledge himself on such an occasion and in such an audience, let me say as my last word, that when, amid sheeted fire and flame, I saw and led the hosts of New York as they charged in contest upon a foreign soil for the honor of your flag; so again, if Providence shall will it, this feeble hand shall draw a sword, never yet dishonored-not to fight for distant honor in a foreign land, but to fight for country, for home, for law, for government, for constitution, for right, for freedom, for humanity, and in the hope that the banner of my country may advance, and wheresoever that banner waves there glory may pursue and freedom be established. YE PEDAGOGUE.-JOHN G. SAXE. RIGHTE learned is ye Pedagogue, Fulle apt to reade and spelle, For as 't is meete to soake ye feete, Ye younker's pate to stimulate, YE PEDAGOGUE. Righte lordly is ye Pedagogue As any turbaned Turke; For well to rule ye District Schoole For oft Rebellion worketh there Sometimes he heares, with trembling fears, Of ye ungodly rogue On mischief bent, with felle intent To lick ye Pedagogue ! And if ye Pedagogue be smalle, When to ye battell led, In such a plighte, God sende him mighte Daye after daye, for little paye, And bears ye yoke, to please ye folke, And ye committee-man. Ah! many crosses hath he borne, Ye while he trudged ye district through, Fulle solemn is ye Pedagogue Among ye noisy churls, Yet other while he hath a smile And one,-ye fairest maide of all,— To cheer his wayning life, Shall be, when Springe ye flowers shall bringe, 67 THE COURTIN'.-JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. GOD makes sech nights, all white an' stil. Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown The wa'nut logs shot sparkles out Agin the chimbley crook-necks hung, The ole queen's-arm that gran'ther Young The very room, coz she was in, Seemed warm from floor to ceilin', He'd sparked it with full twenty gals, He'd squired 'em, danced 'em, druv 'em, First this one, an' then thet, by spellsAll is, he couldn't love 'em. "THE BOYS."-OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. HAS there any old fellow got mixed with the boys? We're twenty! We're twenty! Who says we are more? แ He's tipsy,-young jackanapes !-show him the door! Gray temples at twenty ?"-Yes! white if we please; Where the snow-flakes fall thickest there's nothing can freeze! Was it snowing I spoke of? Excuse the mistake! We want some new garlands for those we have shed,— We've a trick, we young fellows, you may have been told, That boy we call "Doctor," and this we call "Judge"; That fellow's the "Speaker," the one on the right; "Mr. Mayor," my young one, how are you to-night? That's our "Member of Congress," we say when we chaff; There's the "Reverend" What's his name ?-don't make me laugh. That boy with the grave mathematical look Made believe he had written a wonderful book, And the ROYAL SOCIETY thought it was true! So they chose him right in,—a good joke it was too! There's a boy, we pretend, with a three-decker brain, And there's a nice youngster of excellent pith,- |