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caution indulge the supposition that morality can be maintained without religion. Whatever may be conIceded to the influence of refined education on minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience both forbid us 5 to expect that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle.

It is substantially true that virtue or morality is a necessary spring of popular government. The rule, indeed, extends with more or less force to every species of free 10 government.

Who, that is a sincere friend to it, can look with indifference upon attempts to shake the foundation of the fabric?

Promote then, as an object of primary importance, institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge. In 15 proportion as the structure of a government gives force to public opinion, it is essential that public opinion should be enlightened.

Păl lā'dĩ ŭm: the statue of Pallas, on the preservation of which the safety of Troy was said to depend; hence, as here, that which affords effectual protection or security. Pō'tent: powerful. Spē'cious (shus): plausible; apparently right. Hypoth'è sis: supposition; something not proved, but assumed to account for a fact.

Fortitude

BY MARCUS AURELIUS

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Marcus Aurelius Antoninus (121-180): A Roman emperor, one of the greatest Stoic philosophers, who was celebrated for his wisdom, learning, and virtue. His "Meditations contain many noble moral precepts. The best English version is that by George Long, from which this passage is taken.

Be like the promontory against which the waves continually break, but it stands firm and tames the fury of the water around it.

Unhappy am I, because this has happened to me? Not so; but happy am I, though this happened to me, because 5 I continue free from pain, neither crushed by the present nor fearing the future.

Will, then, this which has happened prevent thee from being just, magnanimous, temperate, prudent, secure against inconsiderate opinions and falsehood? Remem- 10 ber, too, on every occasion which leads thee to vexation, to apply this principle: not that this is a misfortune, but that to bear it nobly is good fortune.

The Arsenal at Springfield

By H. W. LONGFELLOW

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882): The most popular of American poets. He wrote "Hiawatha," "Evangeline," "The Courtship of Miles Standish," and other poems. Many of his shorter poems are household favorites. He was also the author of two prose volumes, "Hyperion” and “Outre Mer."

From floor to ceiling,

This is the arsenal.
Like a huge organ, rise the burnished arms;
But from their silent pipes no anthem pealing

Startles the villages with strange alarms.

Ah! what a sound will rise, how wild and dreary,
When the death angel touches those swift keys!

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What loud lament and dismal miserere

Will mingle with their awful symphonies!

I hear even now the infinite fierce chorus,
The cries of agony, the endless groan,
Which, through the ages that have gone before us,
In long reverberations reach our own.

On helm and harness rings the Saxon hammer,
Through Cimbric forest roars the Norseman's song,
And loud, amid the universal clamor,

O'er distant deserts sounds the Tartar gong.

I hear the Florentine, who from his palace
Wheels out his battle bell with dreadful din,
And Aztec priests upon their teocallis

Beat the wild war drums made of serpent's skin,

The tumult of each sacked and burning village;
The shout that every prayer for mercy drowns;
The soldiers' revels in the midst of pillage;
The wail of famine in beleaguered towns;

The bursting shell, the gateway wrenched asunder,
The rattling musketry, the clashing blade;
And ever and anon, in tones of thunder

The diapason of the cannonade.

Is it, O man, with such discordant noises,
With such accursed instruments as these,
Thou drownest Nature's sweet and kindly voices,
And jarrest the celestial harmonies?

Were half the power that fills the world with terror,

Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error,

There were no need of arsenals nor forts:

The warrior's name would be a name abhorrèd!
And every nation, that should lift again
Its hand against a brother, on its forehead

Would wear forevermore the curse of Cain !

Down the dark future, through long generations,

The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease ;

And like a bell with solemn, sweet vibrations,

I hear once more the voice of Christ say, "Peace!"

Peace! and no longer from its brazen portals
The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies!
But beautiful as songs of the immortals,

The holy melodies of love arise.

Miş ê rê'ré: mournful music; usually a musical composition adapted to the fifty-first Psalm, which is one of the penitential Psalms of the Roman Catholic church. The Latin version of this Psalm begins with the word miserere. Sym'phō nies: a symphony is an elaborate musical composition. Here only solemn music is meant. Rẻ věr ber ā'tions (shăng): reëchoing sounds. Harness: armor. Saxon hammer: the battle-ax of the ancient Saxons. Çim'bric of the Cimbri, an ancient tribe of northern Germany. Tartar gong: the great war bells of the Tartars. Battle bell: used in the civil conflicts of Florence. Pillage: robbery; plunder, especially of enemies in war. Bê lea'guered: blockaded; surrounded by an enemy. Di ȧ pā'son: concord of notes, especially in octaves. Curse of Cain: see Genesis iv. 15.

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The Battle of the Ants

BY HENRY D. THOREAU

Henry D. Thoreau (1817-1862): An American author and naturalist. He was the author of a number of works dealing with nature and its meaning, and he was the friend of Emerson. The following selection is taken from "Walden," the record of two years spent in a little cabin on the shores of Walden Pond, near Concord, Mass.

One day when I went out to my woodpile, or rather my pile of stumps, I observed two large ants, the one red, the other much larger, nearly half an inch long, and black, fiercely contending with one another. Having once got 5 hold they never let go, but struggled and wrestled and rolled on the chips incessantly. Looking farther, I was surprised to find that the chips were covered with such combatants, that it was not a duellum, but a bellum, a war between two races of ants, the red always pitted 10 against the black, and frequently two red ones to one black. The legions of these Myrmidons covered all the hills and vales in my wood yard, and the ground was already strewn with the dead and dying, both red and black.

15 It was the only battle which I have ever witnessed, the only battlefield I ever trod while the battle was raging; internecine war, the red republicans on the one hand, and the black imperialists on the other. On every side they were engaged in deadly combat, yet without any noise 20 that I could hear, and human soldiers never fought so resolutely.

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