above what any man can be in that he is praised. I would

rather be the humblest man in the world, than barely be

thought greater than the greatest. The beggar is greater as

a man, than is the man merely as a king. Not one of the

crowds that listened to the eloquence of Demosthenes and

Cicero,—not one who has bent with admiration over the

pages of Homer and Shakspeare,—not one who followed in

the train of Caesar or of Napoleon,—would part with th

humblest power of thought, for all the fame that is echoin .

over the world and through the ages.

0. Dewey.

CXVIIL—THE VILLAGE PREACHER.
i.
"VTEAR yonder copse where once the garden smiled,
JJN And still where many a garden flower grows wild,
There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose
The village preacher's modest mansion rose.
A man he was to all the country dear,
And passing rich with forty pounds a year.

Remote from towns he ran his godly race,

Nor e'er had changed, or wished to change, his place;

Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power,

By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour;

Far other aims his heart had learned to prize,

More bent to raise the wretched than to rise.

in.
His house was known to all the vagrant train;
He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain;
The long-remembered beggar was his guest,
Whose beard descending swept his aged breast;
The ruined spendthrift, now no longer proud,
Claimed kindred there, and had his claims allowed;
The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay,
Sat by his fire and talked the night away,—
Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done,
Shouldered his crutch and showed how fields were won.

IV.

Pleased with his guests the good man learned to glow,
And quite forgot their vices in their woe;
Careless their merits or their faults to scan,
His pity gave ere charity began.

y.

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,
And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side;
But, in his duty prompt at every call,
He watched and wept, he prayed and |elt for all:
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries
To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies,
He tried each art, reproved each dull delay,
Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.

Beside the bed where parting life was laid,
And sorrow, guilt, and pain by turns dismayed,
The reverend champion stood. At his control
Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul;
Comfort came down, the trembling wretch to raise,
And his last faltering accents whispered praise.

VII.

At church, with meek and unaffected grace,

His looks adorned the venerable place;

Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway,

And fools who came to scoff remained to pray.

The service past, around the pious man

With ready zeal each honest rustic ran;

E'en children followed, with endearing wile,

And plucked his gown, to share the good ma:i's smile

His ready smile a parent's warmth expressed;
Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distressed;
To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given,
But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven.

As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal sunshine settles on its head.

Goldsmith.

CXIX.—THE MEMORY OF WASHINGTON.

TO us, citizens of America, it belongs above all others to show respect to the memory of Washington, by the practical deference which we pay to those sober maxims of public policy which he has left us.—a last testament of affection in his Farewell Address. Of all the exhortations which it contains, I scarce need say to you that none are so emphatically uttered, none so anxiously repeated, as those which enjoin the preservation of the Union of these States.

2. -On this, under Providence, it depends in the judgment of Washington whether the people of America shall follow the Old World example, and be broken up into a group of independent military powers, wasted by eternal border wars, feeding the ambition of petty sovereigns on the lifeblood of wasted principalities,—a custom-house on the bank of every river, a fortress on every frontier hill, a pirate lurking in the recesses of every bay,—or whether they shall continue to constitute a federal republic, the most extensive, the most powerful, the most prosperous in the long line of ages.

3. No one can read the Farewrell Address without feeling that this was the thought and this the care which lay nearest and heaviest upon that noble heart; and if—which Heaven forbid—the day shall ever arrive when his parting counsels on that head shall be forgotten, on that day, come it soon or come it late, it may as mournfully as truly be said that Washington has lived in vain. Then-the vessels as they ascend and descend the Potomac may toll their bells with new significance as they pass Mount Vernon: