from below. As the sun rises and flashes its splendors through the gigantic arch, the scene becomes one of extraordinary beauty and sublimity, — beauty from the exquisite flush which spreads itself over rocky mass and stately fir, over pendent shrub, and the fringe of evergreen; and sublimity, from the overpowering sentiment which impresses the mind in the presence of the mighty arch of rock, towering far above, and thrown, as by the hand of some Titan of old, across the blue sky.

4. Then there is the arch, distinct from everything, and above everything! Massive as it is, it is light and beautiful by its hight, and the trees on its summit seem now only like a garland of evergreens; and, elevated as it is, its apparent elevation is wonderfully increased by the narrowness of its piers, and by its outline being drawn on the blue sky. O, it is sublime! So strong and yet so elegant! Springing from earth and bathing itself in heaven! I sat and gazed in admiration and wonder. I had quickly, too quickly, to leave the spot forever; but the music of those waters, the luxury of those shades, the form and color of those rocks, and that arch rising over all, will never be effaced from my memory.

5. From the summit of the Bridge to the surface of the stream below, is two hundred and fifteen feet; more than fifty feet higher than the cataract of Niagara. Notwithstanding this tremendous elevation, several persons, at various times, have made the hazardous attempt to climb the rocky sides of the great arch and reach the summit.

6. This has never yet been accomplished; but a considerable distance has been attained by venturesome climbers, who have recorded their prowess by cutting their names on the surface. at the highest point reached by them. High up among these may be found the name of George Washington, who, strong, adventurous, and fond of manly sports, was seized, like many others before and after him, with the ambition to ascend the precipice and inscribe his name upon the face of the rock.

7. The highest point ever reached by any one of these adventurous explorers is said to have been attained by Mr. James Piper, at that time a student of Washington College, and subsequently a State Senator. It was about the year 1818, when, with some of his fellow-students, Mr. Piper visited the Bridge, descended to the foot of the precipice, and determined to ascertain to what hight it was possible for a human being to ascend the rocky wall.

8. He accordingly commenced climbing the precipice, and, taking advantage of every ledge, cleft, and protuberance, finally reached a point which, to his companions far beneath, seemed directly under the great arch. He was far above the names cut in the stone, fully fifty feet above that of Washington; and, standing upon a ledge which appeared to his terrified fellow-students but a few inches in width, he shouted aloud, waving one hand in triumph, while with the other he clung to the face of the precipice. They shouted back to him, begging him to descend, but he only replied by laughter. They then saw him continue the ascent, clinging to every object within his reach.

9. His ambition was not yet satisfied. He had ascended the rock, not to inscribe his name upon it, but with the daring design of immortalizing himself by mounting from the bottom to the top of the Natural Bridge. He accordingly continued his way, working his toilsome and dangerous passage through clefts in the huge mass of rock. These were just sufficient, in many places, to permit his body to pass; while huge roots from the trees, protruding through splits in the mass, curled to and fro, and half obstructed his passage.

10. With unfaltering resolution, and not daring to look into the hideous gulf beneath him, the young man fought his way on, piercing by main force the dark clefts, crawling along narrow ledges, springing from abutment to abutment, until finally he stopped at an elevation of one hundred and seventy feet

Here he was seen to look upward, but His heart had failed him. Instead of de

from the earth below. he did not move.

signing any further ascent, his only ambition now was plainly to descend in safety, if possible, from his frightful perch. To look beneath would have been certain death. His head would have turned at the first glance, and, losing his footing on the narrow ledge, which he just clung to, his body would have been dashed to pieces on the rocks below. Within his grasp almost, as it seemed, was the coveted summit, but he could not reach it; the smooth face of the rock defied all his efforts.

11. Under these circumstances, the young gentleman acted with a nerve and presence of mind highly honorable to the force of his character. He slowly and cautiously divested himself first of one of his shoes and then the other, next drew off his coat, and these articles he threw from him into the gulf beneath, without daring to look in the direction in which they fell. Then, clinging close to the face of the precipice, and balancing his body carefully as he placed each foot down and raised each one up, he tottered along inch by inch, hanging between life and death, until he reached a friendly cleft. Here pausing for a moment to brace his nerves, he continued his way in the same cautious manner, followed by the eyes of his pale and terrified friends; when, disappearing in a cleft, he was lost to view.

12. A cry arose from his companions beneath, "He is lost! He is lost!" It seemed to them that he had fallen into one of the huge fissures, and been dashed to pieces. His friends had given him up, and agony had succeeded the long suspense, when suddenly, from behind a clump of evergreens, extending like a screen across the narrow opening between two towering rocks, appeared the young student, safe, sound, and smiling at his perilous feat, during the performance of which he had stood face to face with the most terrible of deaths.

Adapted.

LESSON LXXVII.

ON THINKING.

1. THINKING, not growth, makes manhood. There are some who, though they have done growing, are still only children. The constitution may be fixed, while the judgment is immature; the limbs may be strong, while the reasoning is feeble. Many who can run, and jump, and bear any fatigue, can not observe, can not examine, can not reason or judge, contrive or execute, because they do not think.

2. Accustom yourself then to thinking. Set yourself to understand whatever you see or read. To run through a book is not a difficult task, nor is it a very profitable one. To understand a few pages only is far better than to read the whole, where mere reading is the only object. If the work does not set you to thinking, either you or the author must be very deficient.

3. Great stores of knowledge are in some cases accumulated without making the man wise; because, though he has read, and remembers perhaps, he has never duly considered. It is most conducive to health to let one meal digest before we take another; it might be equally beneficial not to take up another book, perhaps not to pass to another page, till we have by reflection securely made that our own, which we have just been reading.

4. To join thinking with reading is one of the first maxims, and one of the easiest operations. There is something to work upon; the mind has only to shape, to square, to polish it; and this may be done with comparative ease. But he is not to be called a thinking man who reasons only while he reads, whose mind is vacant, unless some one else fills it.

5. Be not content, therefore, to think merely as some author or some circumstance may bid you, but try to think from your

self. Watch your thoughts; train them, and keep them from running wild and useless. Mind is of necessity ever active; at no waking moment, at least, is it destitute of ideas. The art of thinking is not always that of creating, but of marshaling the thoughts, which else wander in a desultory, and therefore an ineffective, useless manner.

6. To sit five minutes utterly vacant, is, I believe, not easy, even to minds the most inert. But to mark the various fancies which flit across the imagination, though a duty and a pleasure of high degree, is what we often neglect. Be not indolent, be not careless. Watch your own thoughts; it will teach you the art of thinking. Accustom yourself to set them each to its proper service. You will have more work done, and better. Mind can work upon itself, and never to better purpose : all it knows from other sources will, by this means, become profitable; it is sowing the grain, not merely grinding it; and the produce will be accordingly abundant.

7 It is only by thinking that a man can know himself. Yet all other knowledge, without this, is splendid ignorance. Not a glance merely, but much close examination will be requisite to form a true opinion of your own powers. Ignorance and self-conceit always tend to make you overrate your personal ability; as a slight degree of information, knowledge, or literary accomplishment is apt to give the possessor the impression of unbounded attainments.

8. No reading can make a wise man, without thinking. Scarcely a sentence can be uttered in such a case which will not subject the youth to contempt, let him take what course he will. Thinking is, indeed, the very germ of self-cultivation,the source from which all vital influence springs. Thinking will do much for an active mind, even in the absence of books or living instructors. The reasoning faculty grows firm, expands, discerns its own powers, and acts with increasing facility, precision, and extent, under all its privations.