triumphant success which may await those who fol low it!

7. Behold him, ye that are humblest and poorest in present condition or in future prospect; lift up your heads, and look at the image of a man who rose from nothing; who owed nothing to parentage or patronage; who enjoyed no advantages of early education which are not open-a hundred fold open

to yourselves; who performed the most menial offices in the business. in which his early life was em ployed; but who lived to stand before kings, and died to leave a name which the world will never forget.

8. Lift up your heads, and your hearts with them, and learn a lesson of confidence and courage which shall never again suffer you to despair, not merely of securing the means of an honest and honorable support for yourselves, but even of doing something worthy of being done for your country and for mankind!

9. Behold him, ye that are highest and most honorable in the world's regard, judges and senators, governors and presidents, and emulate each other in copying something of the firmness and fidelity, something of the patient endurance, and persevering zeal, and comprehensive patriotism, and impertur bable kind feeling and good nature, of one who was never dizzied by elevation or debauched 10 by flattery, or soured by disappointment, or daunted 11 by opposition, or corrupted by ambition, and who knew how to stand humbly and happily alike on the lowest round of obscurity and on the loftiest pinnacle 12 of fame.

10. Behold him and listen to him, one and all, citizens, freemen, patriots, friends of liberty and of law, lovers of the Constitution and the Union, as ho recalls the services which he gladly performed, and the sacrifices which he generously made, in company with his great associates, in procuring for you those glorious institutions which you are now so richly enjoying.

11. And may the visible presence of the great Bostonian, restored once more to our sight, by something more than a fortunate coincidence, 13 in this hour of our country's peril, serve not merely to ornament our streets, or to commemorate his services, or even to signalize 14 our own gratitude, but to impress afresh, day by day, and hour by hour, upon the heart of every man, and woman, and child who shall gaze upon it, a deeper sense of the value of that liberty, that independence, that union, and that constitution, for all of which he was so early, so constant, and so successful a laborer.

1 DIS-PXS'SION-ATE. Free from passion; unexcited; impartial.

2 UN-E-QUÏV'O-CAL. Not doubtful. 8 IR REV'O-CA-BLE. Unalterable.

4 RATIFY. To establish.

EU-LOGI-UMS. Praises; eulogies. • PXT/RON AGE. Protection; favor. 'ME'NI-AL. Low with respect to em

ployment or office.

• EM'V-LĀTE. Strive to equal or to

excel.

9 IM-PER-TURB'A-BLE. That cannot be disturbed; immovable.

10 DE-BAUCHED'. Corrupted.

11 DAUNTED. Discouraged; frightened.
12 PIN'NA-CLE. A turret; the highest
point.

13 CO-IN'CI-DENCE. Agreement.
14 SIG/NAL-IZE. Make eminent or re-
markable; celebrate.

LXXI. THE GOODNESS OF GOD.

PARAPHRASE OF THE TWENTY-THIRD PSALM.

ADDISON.

[Joseph Addison was born at Milston, Wiltshire, England, May 1, 1672. He has a high rank in English literature, which rests mainly upon his essays contributed to the Tatler, Spectator, and Guardian. He also wrote plays, travels, and miscellaneous poems. He died June 17, 1719.]

His

1. THE Lord my pasture shall prepare,
And feed me with a shepherd's care;
presence shall my wants supply.
And guard me with a watchful eye;
My noonday walks He shall attend,
And all my midnight hours defend.

2. When in the sultry glebe I faint,
Or on the thirsty mountains pant,
To fertile vales and dewy meads
My weary, wandering steps He leads,
Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow,
Amid the verdant landscape flow.

3. Though in the paths of death I tread,
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My steadfast 2 heart shall fear no ill,
For Thou, O Lord, art with me still;
Thy friendly crook shall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful shade.

4. Though in a bare and rugged way,
Through devious, lonely wilds I stray,
Thy bounty shall my wants beguile,
The barren wilderness shall smile

With sudden green and herbage crowned,
And streams shall murmur all around.

[Henry R. Jackson, a native of Georgia, was born in 1820. He was educated for the bar, and at one time held the office of United States district attorney. He served with distinction in the Mexican war, and in 1853 was appointed resident minister to Vienna He is author of a volume of poems distinguished for their spirit and animation. The live-oak is an evergreen tree peculiar to the Southern States. It attains a great age, though it never grows to more than fifty feet in height, and, owing to the durability and strength of its wood, is of great value for the timber of ships. The long, pendent, gray moss, also peculiar to the forests of the south, is often found growing upon and hanging from its branches, and, contrasting with the remarkable foliage of this tree, imparts to it a strikingly picturesque appearance, giving to it somewhat of the effect of an aged person.]

1. WITH his gnarled 1 old arms, and his iron form, Majestic in the wood,

From age to age, in the sun and storm,
The live-oak long hath stood.

With his stately air, that grave old tree,
He stands like a hooded monk,
With the gray moss waving solemnly
From his shaggy limbs and trunk.

2. And the generations come and go,
And still he stands upright,

And he sternly looks on the wood below,
As conscious of his might.

But a mourner sad is the hoary tree,
A mourner sad and lone,

And is clothed in funeral drapery
For the long-since dead and gone.

3. For the Indian hunter, beneath his shade,
Has rested from the chase;

And he here has wooed his dusky maid
The dark-eyed of her race;

And the tree is red with the gushing gore,
As the wild deer panting dies;

But the maid is gone, and the chase is o'er,
And the old oak hoarsely sighs.

4. In former days, when the battle's din
Was loud amid the land,

In his friendly shadow, few and thin,
Have gathered Freedom's band;
And the stern old oak, how proud was he

To shelter hearts so brave!

But they all are gone,- the bold and free,-
And he moans above their grave.

5. And the aged oak, with his locks of gray,
Is ripe for the sacrifice;

For the worm and decay, no lingering prey,
Shall he tower towards the skies!

He fails, he falls, to become our guard,
The bulwark of the free;

And his bosom of steel is proudly bared
To brave the raging sea!

6. When the battle comes, and the cannon's roar Booms o'er the shuddering deep,