T is far more difficult to be simple than to be complicated; far more difficult to sacrifice skill and cease exertion in the proper place, than to expend both indiscriminately. We shall find, in the course of our investigation, that beauty and difficulty go together; and that they are only mean and paltry difficulties which it is wrong or contemptible to wrestle with. Be it remembered, then, Power is never wasted. Whatever power has been employed, produces excellence in proportion to its own dignity and exertion; and the faculty of perceiving this exertion, and appreciating this dignity, is the faculty of perceiving excellence. JOHN RUSKIN. a EDUCATION. STATUE lies hid in the block of marble, and the art of the statuary only clears away the superfluous matter and removes the rubbish. The figure is in the stone; the sculptor only finds it. What sculpture is to a block of marble, education is to a human soul. The philosopher, the saint, or the hero, the wise, the good, or the great man, very often lies hid and concealed in a plebeian, which a proper education might have disinterred, and brought to light. JOSEPH ADDISON. THE INTERPRETERS. I. IV. In human thought have all things habitation; AYS dawn on us that make amends for Laugh, lower, and lighten past, and find no DAY many Sometimes, station That stays. When heaven and earth seem sweeter even But thought and faith are mightier things than any Man's rhymes. than time Light had not all been quenched in France, or Made splendid once with speech, or made quelled sublime THIS LIFE IS WHAT WE MAKE IT. LET'S oftener talk of noble deeds, And rarer of the bad ones, And sing about our happy days, And not about the sad ones. Let's find the sunny side of men, A light there is in every soul That takes the pains to win it. Then here's to those whose loving hearts Thanks be to them for countless gems EDUCATION. F we work upon marble, it will perish; if we work upon brass, time will efface it; if we rear temples, they will crumble into dust; but if we work upon immortal minds, if we imbue them with principles, with the just fear of God, and love of our fellow-men, we engrave on those tablets something which will brighten to all eternity. DANIEL WEBSTER. SOMETIME. 66 'OMETIME”—It is the sweet, sweet song, warbled to and fro, among the topmost boughs of the heart, and filling the whole air with such joy and gladness as the songs of birds do when the summer morning comes out of darkness, and day is born on the mountains. We have all our possessions in the future which we call " sometime." Beautiful flowers are there, only our hands seldom grasp the one or our ears hear the other. But, oh, reader, be of good cheer, for all the good there is in a golden "sometime;" when the hill and valleys of time are passed; when the wear and fever, the disappointment and the sorrows of life are over, then there is a place and the rest appointed of God. Oh, homestead, over whose roof fall no shadows or even clouds; and over whose threshold the voice of sorrow is never heard; built upon the eternal hills, and standing with thy spires and pinnacles of celestial beauty among the palm trees of the city on high, those who love God shall rest under thy shadows, where there is no more sorrrow nor pain, nor the sound of weeping"sometime." GEORGE DENNISON PRENTICE. As I do live by food, I met a fool;— And rail'd on lady Fortune in good terms, And then he drew a dial from his poke; Thus may we see, quoth he, how the world 'Tis but an hour ago, since it was nine; AQUES. A fool, a fool!—I met a fool i' the And then, from hour to hour, we rot, and rot, forest. A motley fool; a miserable world!— And thereby hangs a tale. When I did hear Of entrance to a quarrel; but, being in, Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy, For the apparel oft proclaims the man; And they in France, of the best rank and station, Are most select and generous, chief in that. SUGGESTION. HE lad and lass were forced to part. The sight went into the poet's heart, The sun, down-sloping in the west, The mother murmured to her child, The damsel turned, her hair to bind, There grew from out the sculptor's mind, The song was said, the tune was played, The girl in marble stood, The sunset in the picture stayed, And God, who made these things to be, And all the angels would be glad If, in the world He built, Although there must be some things sad, But all the beauty in the earth, MATTHEW BROWNE. row; Be blythe in hearte for my aventure, Make thee gude cheer of it that God thee sends, For warld's wrak but welfare nought avails; Follow on pity, flee trouble and debate, To learn this truth at last, that fame Is but an empty air-blown bubble. My friend sought wealth and often wrote That he was rich and loved me dearly! And always closed his friendly note With "Yours most truly and sincerely." And once he wrote, "My dear old chum, If you are short-now don't be sillyJust drop a line and name the sum To me, your friend and crony, Willie." But still I had a foolish pride To keep from him my little pinches ; We like, if possible, to hide Our wants from one that never flinches. His chance to-night it may be thine to-mor- And thus I labored late and long, row; Until my hopes and nerves were shattered, |