The narrow walls expand, and spread away
Into a kingly palace, and the roof

Lifts to the sky, and unseen fingers work
The ceilings with rich blazonry, and write
His name in burning letters over all.
And ever as he shuts his wildered eyes,
The phantom comes and lays upon his lids
A spell that murders sleep, and in his ear
Whispers a deathless word, and on his brain
Breathes a fierce thirst no water will allay.
He is its slave henceforth! His days are spent
In chaining down his heart and watching where
To rise by human weaknesses. His nights
Bring him no rest in all their blessed hours.
His kindred are forgotten or estranged.
Unhealthful fires burn constant in his eye.
His lip grows restless, and its smile is curled
Half into scorn,-till the bright, fiery boy,
That 't was a daily blessing but to see,
His spirit was so birdlike and so pure,
Is frozen in the very flush of youth,
Into a cold, care fretted, heartless man!
And what is its reward? At best, a name !
Praise-when the ear has grown too dull to hear;
Gold-when the senses it should please are dead;
Wreaths-when the hair they cover has grown grey;
Fame-when the heart it should have thrilled is numb.
All things but love—when love is all we want,
And close behind comes death, and ere we know
That even these unavailing gifts are ours,

He sends us, stripped and naked, to the grave!

LESSON CLV.

WAR A SERIOUS QUESTION.

When the United States purchased Louisiana, which included the Oregon Territory, it was difficult to settle the boundaries between our newly acquired territory and the British Possessions, the facts in regard to the original discovery, the first settlement, and the actual possession, being all disputed. Both nations, therefore, concluded to leave the territory open to both, and it had been so left for thirty years, when the British government sent over a minister to settle the question, if possible, with our government. Unluckily, at the moment of his arrival, the question of asserting our claim was before Congress, and the chairman of the Committee of Foreign Relations, had made a violent speech, in which he had severely censured England, when MR. WINTHROP, of Massachusetts, arose and rebuked the war spirit in a manly speech, of which the following is an extract.

"Mr. Chairman, I know of nothing more worthy of condemnation in the political history of the present day, than the systematic effort of certain persons in this country to stir up a prejudice against England upon every occasion, and to create an impression that every man who does not fall in with their principles and their policy is in some sort of British interest, or under some kind of British influence. With some of the leaders of this party, hatred to England would seem to be the only standard of American patriotism; and it seems to be enough to determine their course upon all questions either of right or of expediency, to know what will be most offensive to the British power. War, war with England, is the ever burning passion of their soul; and any one who pursues a policy or advocates a measure which may postpone or avert the consummation which they so devoutly desire, becomes the chosen object of their insinuations and reproaches. For myself, sir, I hold in utter contempt all such insinuations. If it be a fit subject for reproach, to entertain the most anxious and ardent desire for the peace of this country, its peace with England, its peace with all the world, I submit myself willingly to the fullest measure of that reproach.

War between the United States and Great Britain for Oregon! Sir, there is something in this idea too monstrous to be entertained for a moment. The two greatest nations on the globe, with more territorial possessions than they know what to do with already, and bound together by so many ties of kindred, and language and commercial interest, going to war for a piece of barren earth! Why, it would put back the cause of civilization a whole century, and would be enough, not merely to call down the rebuke of men, but the curse of God. I do not yield to the honorable gentleman in a just concern for the national honor. I am ready to maintain that honor, whenever it is really at stake, against Great Britain as readily as against any other nation. Indeed, if war is to come upon us, I am quite willing that it should be war with a first-rate powerwith a foeman worthy of our steel.

"Oh, the blood more stirs

To rouse the lion than to start the hare."

We have nothing to fear from a protracted war with any nation, though our want of preparation might give us the worst of it in the first encounter. We are all

and always ready for war, when there is no other alternative for maintaining our country's honor. We are all and always ready for any war into which a Christian man, in a civilized land, and in this age of the world, can have the face to enter. But I thank God that there are very few such cases. War and honor are fast getting to have less and less to do with each other. The highest honor of any country is to preserve PEACE, even under provocations which might justify war. The deepest disgrace to any country is to plunge into war under circumstances which leave the honorable alternative of peace. I heartily hope and trust, sir, that in deference to the sense of the civilized world, in deference to that spirit of Christianity which is now spread

ing its benign and healing influences over both hemispheres with such signal rapidity, we shall explore the whole field of diplomacy, and exhaust every art of negotiation, before we give loose to that passion for conflict which some gentlemen seem to regard as so grand and glorious an element of the American character."

LESSON CLVI.

THE OYSTER.-EDITOR.

The following new version of an old story has more morals than one. While it shows the ordinary reward of litigation, especially when the matter in dispute is unimportant, it illustrates the folly of war, where the costs to both parties always exceed the gain of the victor. The pupil must deliver it very slowly and with great gravity.

One day upon the sea-girt shore,

Two travellers an oyster saw.
No great affair!—to them, I mean,
Though serious to the wretch between
The valves,-for church and state unite
In giving a discoverer right
The liberty to violate

Of any oyster, man, or state,
Discovered at a certain distance,
And but too weak to make resistance.
The moment that it struck their eyes,
The travellers rushed to seize the prize,
Stooped to appropriate the prey,
And pushed each other every way.
""Tis not being righteous over much,
To prove your title ere you touch,"
Said one, "I saw the treasure first."
The other into fury burst,

And offered on the spot to fight,

And called on heaven "to back the right,"
As kings do, when they go to war
For causes demons would abhor.

The oyster in his citadel,
As poets call his humble shell,
Drew up his legs, as it is said
The dying patriarch did in bed,
For well the tender creature saw
That, having neither power nor law,
The only chance he had for life
Was in the fierceness of their strife,
And so, at praying nothing loth,

He begged the Lord to help them both!
Hard blows were given, and words ran high,
When a third traveller came by,

And offered to adjust the matter,

If they would cease themselves to batter,
And both would solemnly agree
To stand or fall by his decree.

A freeborn oyster's not a vassal,
And, in his house, is in his castle ;-
But laws like this, in every state,
Read better than they operate,-
And so the umpire oped the case,
And oped the house with solemn grace,
Stripped the poor oyster to the skin,
And winking, sucked the victim in.
Then, while the precious fools looked on,
He said in magisterial tone,

"The Court, who liked the oyster well,
Awards to each of you,-a shell!"