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LESSON XCIX.
CHIV' AL ROUS, gallant; heroic.
HAL' LOW, consecrate; keep sacred.
MER' CE NA RY, mean; venal.
AD VEN' TUR ER, fortune-seeker.
VAN' QUISH ED, conquered.
OUT' CAST, exile; castaway.
TRAP' PINGS, ornaments; equipments.
CRU SADE', battle zealously.
CA REER' ED, moved rapidly.
PHAL' ANX, compact body of men.
TRANS PORT' ING, exulting.
TRO PHIES, memorials of victory.
PA' GEANT, pompous; showy.
MIN' ION, favorite.
LA FAYETTE.
CHARLES SPRAGUE.
1. While we bring our offerings for the mighty of our _own_ land, shall we not remember the chivalrous spirits of _other_ sh.o.r.es, who shared with them the hour of weakness and woe'? Pile to the clouds the majestic column of glory'; let the lips of those who can speak well, hallow each spot where the bones of your bold repose'; but forget not those who, with your bold, went out to battle.
2. Among those men of n.o.ble daring, there was _one_, a young and gallant stranger, who left the blushing vine-hills of his delightful France. The people whom he came to succor, were not _his_ people; he knew them only in the melancholy story of their wrongs. He was no mercenary adventurer, striving for the spoil of the vanquished; the palace acknowledged him for its lord, and the valley yielded him its increase. He was no nameless man, staking life for reputation; he ranked among n.o.bles, and looked unawed upon kings.
3. He was no friendless outcast, seeking for a grave to hide a broken heart; he was girdled by the companions of his childhood; his kinsmen were about him; his wife was before him. Yet from all these loved ones he turned away. Like a lofty tree that shakes down its green glories, to battle with the winter storm, he flung aside the trappings of place and pride, to crusade for Freedom, in Freedom's holy land. He came'; but not in the day of successful rebellion', not when the new-risen sun of Independence had burst the cloud of time, and careered to its place in the heavens'.
4. He came when darkness curtained the hills, and the tempest was abroad in its anger'; when the plow stood still in the field of promise, and briers c.u.mbered the garden of beauty'; when fathers were dying, and mothers were weeping over them'; when the wife was binding up the gashed bosom of her husband, and the maiden was wiping the death-damp from the brow of her lover'. He came when the brave began to fear the power of man, and the pious to doubt the favor of G.o.d. It was _then_ that this one joined the ranks of a revolted people.
5. Freedom's little phalanx bade him a grateful welcome. With them he courted the battle's rage; with theirs, his arm was lifted; with theirs, his blood was shed. Long and doubtful was the conflict. At length, kind Heaven smiled on the good cause, and the beaten invaders fled. The profane were driven from the temple of Liberty, and, at her pure shrine, the pilgrim-warrior, with his adored commander, knelt and worshiped.
Leaving there his offering, the incense of an uncorrupted spirit, he at length rose, and, crowned with benedictions, turned his happy feet toward his long-deserted home.
6. After nearly fifty years, that _one_ has come again. Can mortal tongue tell? can mortal heart feel, the sublimity of that coming?
Exulting millions rejoice in it; and their loud, long, transporting shout, like the mingling of many winds, rolls on, undying, to Freedom's farthest mountains. A congregated nation comes around him. Old men bless him, and children reverence him. The lovely come out to look upon him; the learned deck their halls to greet him; the rulers of the land rise up to do him homage.
7. How his full heart labors! He views the rusting trophies of departed days; he treads the high places where his brethren molder; he bends before the tomb of his "father;" [Footnote: Washington] his words are tears,--the speech of sad remembrance. But he looks round upon a ransomed land and a joyous race; he beholds the blessings these trophies secured, for which these brethren died, for which that "father" lived; and again his words are tears,--the eloquence of grat.i.tude and joy.
8. Spread forth creation like a map; bid earth's dead mult.i.tudes revive; and of all the pageant splendors that ever glittered to the sun, when looked his burning eye on a sight like this? Of all the myriads that have come and gone, what cherished minion ever ruled an hour like this?
Many have struck the redeeming blow for their own freedom; but who, like this man, has bared his bosom in the cause of strangers?
9. Others have lived in the love of their own people; but who, like this man, has drank his sweetest cup of welcome with another? Matchless chief! of glory's immortal tablets there is one for him, for _him_ alone! Oblivion shall never shroud its splendor; the everlasting flame of Liberty shall guard it, that the generations of men may repeat the name recorded there, the beloved name of LA FAYETTE.
QUESTIONS.--1. Of what country was La Fayette a native? 2. What was his position at home? 3. In what condition was this country when he came to join our army? 4. How many years after, before he revisited this country? 5. What demonstrations were manifested by the people? 6. What is said of his fame?
LESSON C.
PRO FU' SION, abundance; variety.
CON FU' SION, intricacy; indistinct movement.
COM MO TION, agitation; shaking.
RE SULT', effect.
DI MIN' ISH, lessen.
MYS' TER Y, maze; secrecy.
HIS' TO RY, plain matter of fact.
PA' GES, boy-servants; attendants.
SPAR' RING, boxing; disputing.
PUP' PETS, dolls; small figures of persons.
FIN ISH, completion.
GLO' RI OUS, grand; splendid.
RE JECT, refuse; deny.
RE FLECT' ED, turned back; borrowed.
THE MYSTIC WEAVER.
REV. DR. HARBAUGH.
1. Weaver at his loom is sitting, Throws his shuttle to and fro; Foot and treadle, Hand and pedal, Upward, downward, Hither, thither, How the weaver makes them go!
As the weaver _wills_ they go.
Up and down the web is plying, And across the woof is flying; What a rattling!
What a battling!
What a shuffling!
What a scuffling!
As the weaver makes his shuttle, Hither, thither, scud and scuttle.
2. Threads in single, Threads in double; How they mingle!
What a trouble, Every color!
What profusion!
Every motion-- What confusion!
While the web and woof are mingling, Signal bells above are jingling, Telling how each figure ranges, Telling when the color changes, As the weaver makes his shuttle, Hither, thither, scud and scuttle.
3. Weaver at his loom is sitting, Throws his shuttle to and fro; 'Mid the noise and wild confusion, Well the weaver seems to know, As he makes his shuttle go, What each motion, And commotion, What each fusion, And confusion, In the _grand result_ will show: Weaving daily, Singing gayly, As he makes his busy shuttle, Hither, thither, scud and scuttle.
4. Weaver at his loom is sitting, Throws his shuttle to and fro; See you not how shape and order From the wild confusion grow, As he makes his shuttle go'?
As the web and woof diminish, Grows beyond the beauteous finish: Tufted plaidings, Shapes and shadings, All the mystery Now is history: And we see the reason subtle, Why the weaver makes his shuttle, Hither, thither, scud and scuttle.
5. See the Mystic Weaver sitting, High in Heaven--His loom below.
Up and down the treadles go: Takes for web the world's long ages, Takes for woof its kings and sages, Takes the n.o.bles and their pages, Takes all stations and all stages.
Thrones are bobbins in His shuttle; Armies make them scud and scuttle.
6. Web into the woof must flow, Up and down the nations go, As the Weaver _wills_ they go.
Men are sparring, Powers are jarring, Upward, downward, Hither, thither, See how strange the nations go, Just like puppets in a show.
Up and down the web is plying And across the woof is flying.
What a rattling!
What a battling!
What a shuffling!