2. There's glory in the shuttle's song;
There's triumph in the anvil's stroke;
There's merit in the brave and strong
Who dig the mine or fell the oak.
3. The wind disturbs the sleeping lake,
And bids it ripple pure and fresh;
It moves the green boughs till they make
Grand music in their leafy mesh.
4. And so the active breath of life
Should stir our dull and sluggard wills;
For are we not created rife
With health, that stagnant torpor kills?
5. I doubt if he who lolls his head
Where idleness and plenty meet,
Enjoys his pillow or his bread
As those who earn the meals they eat.
6. And man is never half so blest
As when the busy day is spent
So as to make his evening rest
A holiday of glad content.
DEFINITIONS.—3. Mesh, network. 4. Rife, abounding. Stag'nant, inactive. 2. Tor'por, laziness, stupidity. 5. Lolls, reclines, leans.
IX. THE MANIAC.
1. A gentleman who had traveled in Europe, relates that he one day visited the hospital of Berlin, where he saw a man whose exterior was very striking. His figure, tall and commanding, was bending with age, but more with sorrow; the few scattered hairs which remained on his temples were white almost as the driven snow, and the deepest melancholy was depicted in his countenance.
2. On inquiring who he was and what brought him there, he started, as, if from sleep, and, after looking around him, began with slow and measured steps to stride the hall, repeating in a low but audible voice, "Once one is two; once one is two."
3. Now and then he would stop, and remain with his arms folded on his breast as if in contemplation, for some minutes; then again resuming his walk, he continued to repeat, "Once one is two; once one is two." His story, as our traveler understood it, is as follows:
4. Conrad Lange, collector of the revenues of the city of Berlin, had long been known as a man whom nothing could divert from the paths of honesty. Scrupulously exact in an his dealings, and assiduous in the discharge of all his duties, he had acquired the good will and esteem of all who knew him, and the confidence of the minister of finance, whose duty it is to inspect the accounts of all officers connected with the revenue.
5. On casting up his accounts at the close of a particular year, he found a deficit of ten thousand ducats. Alarmed at this discovery, he went to the minister, presented his accounts, and informed him that he did not know how it had arisen, and that he had been robbed by some person bent on his ruin.
6. The minister received his accounts, but thinking it a duty to secure a person who might probably be a defaulter he caused him to be arrested, and put his accounts into the hands of one of his secretaries for inspection, who returned them the day after with the information that the deficiency arose from a miscalculation; that in multiplying, Mr. Lange had said, once one is two, instead of once one is one.
7. The poor man was immediately released from confinement, his accounts returned, and the mistake pointed out. During his imprisonment, which lasted two days, he had neither eaten, drunk, nor taken any repose; and when he appeared, his countenance was as pale as death. On receiving his accounts, he was a long time silent; then suddenly awaking, as if from a trance, he repeated, "Once one is two."
8. He appeared to be entirely insensible of his situation; would neither eat nor drink, unless solicited; and took notice of nothing that passed around him. While repeating his accustomed phrase, if anyone corrected him by saying, "Once one is one," his attention was arrested for a moment, and he said, "Ah, right, once one is one;" and then resuming his walk, he continued to repeat, "Once one is two." He died shortly after the traveler left Berlin.
9. This affecting story, whether true or untrue, obviously abounds with lessons of instruction. Alas! how easily is the human mind thrown off its balance; especially when it is stayed on this world only, and has no experimental knowledge of the meaning of the injunction of Scripture, to cast all our cares upon Him who careth for us, and who heareth even the young ravens when they cry.
DEFINITIONS.—1. Ex-te'ri-or, outward appearance. De-pict'ed, painted, represented. 3. Con-tem-pla'tion, continued attention of the mind to one subject. 4. Rev'e-nues, the annual income from taxes, public rents, etc. Scru'pu-lous-ly, carefully. As-sid'u-ous, constant in attention. Fi-nance', the income of a ruler or a state. Def'i-cit, lack, want. Duc'at, a gold coin worth about $2.00. 6. De-fault'er, one who fails to account for public money intrusted to his care. 9. Ob'vi-ous-ly, plainly. In-junc'tion, a command.
X. ROBIN REDBREAST.
William Allingham (b. 1828, d. 1889) was born at Ballyshannon, Ireland. His father was a banker, and gave him a good education in Irish schools. He showed his literary tastes at an early date, contributing to periodicals, etc. In 1850 he published his first volume of poems; in 1854 his "Day and Night Songs" appeared, and in 1864 a poem in twelve chapters entitled "Lawrence Bloomfield in Ireland," His reputation was established chiefly through his shorter lyrics, or ballad poetry. In 1864 he received a literary pension.
1. Good-by, good-by to Summer!
For Summer's nearly done;
The garden smiling faintly,
Cool breezes in the sun;
Our thrushes now are silent,
Our swallows flown away—
But Robin's here in coat of brown,
And scarlet brestknot gay.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
Robin sings so sweetly
In the falling of the year.
2. Bright yellow, red, and orange,
The leaves come down in hosts;
The trees are Indian princes,
But soon they'll turn to ghosts;
The leathery pears and apples
Hang russet on the bough;
It's autumn, autumn, autumn late,
'T will soon be winter now.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And what will this poor Robin do?
For pinching days are near.
3. The fireside for the cricket,
The wheat stack for the mouse,
When trembling night winds whistle
And moan all round the house.
The frosty ways like iron,
The branches plumed with snow—
Alas! in winter dead and dark,
Where can poor Robin go?
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And a crumb of bread for Robin,
His little heart to cheer.
Note.—The Old World Robin here referred to is quite different in appearance and habits from the American