cences of his youth; he described the peace of his home, round which blew the fresh breezes of the North. He rejoiced that he had found the object of his life; he expressed his gratitude that his efforts had been appreciated-and all this he told in the most thrilling tones that ever proceeded from a violin. It seemed to him as if the star of his future had risen that evening, and he told them so with joy. 16. For a second time the curtain fell, separating him from the public, which was beside itself with delight, and again he heard nothing of the resounding applause. He sank down unconscious, not from exhaustion, but from joy at his triumph. A deep, healthful sleep refreshed him. 17. The next day but little else was talked about in Bologna except the marvelous talent of the young musician. The directors of the Academy appeared at his lodging with the promised remuneration. The first musicians of the city offered him their services, and to help him out of his pitiable condition another concert was arranged, this time for his benefit. 18. Since that time this artist has given concerts everywhere, and at each place has found enthusiastic admirers. The name of Ole Bull is now equally well known on both sides of the Atlantic. Definitions.-6. Re mu nera'tion, reward, pay. It is commonly taken in the specific sense of pay for personal services done for another. 8. Artiste', one who is skilled in any art, as singing, dancing, etc. This word is very broad in its meaning, and may be applied to any person very capable or proficient in his special line. NOTES.-I. Maria Felicita Malibran, a celebrated French singer and actress; born 1808, died 1836. 2. Charles de Beriot, violinist; born in Belgium in 1808, died in 1870. 3. Madame Rossini was an Italian singer of some note. 4. O'le Bull was one of the most famous of the world's violinists. He was born in Norway in 1810, and died in 1880. 52. TRUTH. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW (1807-1882) was born in Maine. He pursued his studies at Bowdoin College in his native State, and, after graduating, accepted a professorship in that institution, and later the professorship of modern languages in Harvard College. He visited Europe several times in order to prepare himself more thoroughly for his work. Longfellow was the best loved of American poets. His words appeal strongly to those who, like him, look always on the bright side of life. To all classes of people the sweetness of his songs and ballads is a continual source of pleasure. 1. Он, holy and eternal Truth! Thou art An emanation of the Eternal Mind! A glorious attribute-a nobler part Of uncreated being! Who can find, 2. The human mind is a reflection caught From thee, a trembling shadow of thy ray. 3. The soul of man, though sighing after thee, Hath never known thee, saving as it knows The reach of human power, though not of human love. 4. Vainly Philosophy may strive to teach The secret of thy being. Its faint ray Of its untiring wings the eternal day Of truth is shining on the longing eye, 3. And yet thou hast not left thyself without Yet speaks so darkly and mysteriously Of what we are and shall be evermore, We doubt, and yet believe, and tremble, and adore! 53. THE BLESSING OF EXISTENCE. ORVILLE DEWEY (1794-1882) was born in Massachusetts. He passed his boyhood on his father's farm reading and studying, and graduated from Williams College in 1814, and afterward studied theology at Andover in the same State. He was appointed assistant to the famous William Ellery Channing in Boston. Subsequently he filled various other pulpits in the East, but his feeble health compelled him to take frequent trips to Europe, and finally to retire from the active duties of the ministry in 1862. His books of travel are written in a sprightly and animated style, and his religious and controversial discourses were free from dogmatism, and showed a just regard for the opinions of opponents. I. I EXIST. What a blessing and a wonder is that! A few years ago, and I was not; no spot in the fair universe held me. From dark and void nothingness I am called to the glad precincts of being; into the living and loving bosom of nature; into communion with the things that are; myself-chiefest blessing!-myself among the things that are. And do I ask to whom I owe this blessing? Whence came I, do I ask? What one among the mysterious powers of heaven gave me this wonderful being? 2. Reason answers, and Holy Writ answers, there is but One who creates. It is he, God, that hath called me into being; to stand beneath these shining heavens; to look around upon the loveliness of earth; to breathe the air of verdant fields, and see the light of rising and setting suns; to behold the molded beauty of sloping valleys and swelling mountains, and the flashing light of streams and ocean waves. 3. Everybody says that this is the darkest world in the universe. Who knows it? Who knows that there is any one among all the spheres of heaven more beautiful than this? Other kinds of beauty there may be, but who shall dare to say that any creation has proceeded from God that is not all beautiful? 4. I do not like that phrase, "this dark world." Poetry may use it, and in some relations and in some moods there may be a propriety in its use. But what I complain of is, that the feeling has sunk down into the common heart; the unadmiring, unholy, unthankful feeling that this is a dark world-the darkest of all worlds. 5. I complain that the casual shade of poetry has settled. into a fixed, opaque incrustation over the general mind; that it is common to feel as if this were a coarse, ungenial, ungrateful, almost an ill-made world; as if it were the roughhewn penitentiary of the creation, frowning upon us from its granite walls and its dark and dingy arches. And therefore I say, Who knows it? 6. But I might say, rather, shame on the superstitious weakness, the uncultivated thought, the unkindled apathy, that finds nothing but a prison wall surrounding a convict's yard! Shame on the eye that can not see, and on the heart that can not feel the wonders and beauties of this fair and lovely creation around us! 7. And as man stands amidst the fair creation, with what a wonderful apparatus is he provided for communication with it; with a perception for every element; for the sweets of every bounty in nature, for the fragrance of every field, ALT. V.-12, for the soft, embracing air, for the sounds that come from every hill, and mountain, and murmuring stream, and ocean wave, for the light that beams from the far-distant stars. 8. We look upon the electric telegraph as a wonder; and it is so. But man's whole sensitive frame is a more wonderful telegraph. He wakes from sleep, and all nature around becomes a living presence. He listens; and into the polished and waxen chambers of the ear comes the hum of cities, the bleating of flocks upon the hills, the sound of the woodman's ax in the deep forest-comes the echoing of the wide welkin above him,—comes, above all, the music of human speech. He opens his eye, and stars that rise upon the infinite seas of space are telegraphed to his vision. 9. We are proverbially insensible to the value of that which we have always possessed; of which we can not go back in our conscious thought to the origin. If seeing were an invention, how should we admire it! We admire the telescope-itself the product of a reasoning power which God has given us, and which will doubtless discover yet greater things. 10. But suppose that the eye had at first been formed to see only this world, and all beyond had been a wall of darkness; and that then, at some given era, there had been superadded to that organ the telescopic power, and upon the human eye had burst the wonders of heaven: how dark on the page of human history would have lain the ages before; and how would that era be forever celebrated, almost as the beginning of human existence. II. And what is the telescope compared with this, and built at much expense; a cumbrous weight to be carried from place to place, and constructed with elaborate mechanism to turn its axis one way and another; while in the beggar's eye, as he lifts it to heaven, and turns it unconsciously from point to point, is an instrument which all the skill of science, aided by the wealth of empires, could never construct, |