LESSON LXVIII.

REMARK.-Be careful not to allow the voice to grow weaker and weaker, as you approach the end of each sentence.

PRONOUNCE Correctly.—Scarce, not scurce: fra-grant, not frag-rant: or-i-sons, not o-ri'-sons: hal-le-lu-jahs, pro. hal-le-lu-yahs: beau-te-ous, not beau-che-ous: hal-low-ed, not hal-lerd: o-be-di-ence, not o-be-junce.

1. Tinge, n. a slight degree of color.

3. Rab'-bi, n. a title given to learned

men among the Jews.

19. Re-past', n. a meal.

26. Or'-i-sons, n. prayers.

36. In'-cense, n. the odors of spices burnt in religious worship.

Re-luct'-ant, a. unwilling.

44. Sap'-phire, n. a precious stone of a blue color; here put for the color.

28. Pon-tif-i-cal, a. belonging to the 48. Lus'-ter, n. splendor, brightness.

high priest.

30. Cym'-bal, n. an instrument of music. Psal'-ter-y, n. an instrument of music. 33. Hal-le-lu'-jahs, n. praises to God.

58. Spou'-sal, a. relating to marriage. 83. Chas'-ten-ed, a. (pro. chais-nd) afflicted for correction.

84. Hom'-age, n. reverential worship.

A HEBREW TALE.

1. +TWILIGHT was deepening with a tinge of eve,
As toward his home in Israel's sheltered vales
A stately Rabbi drew. His camels spied
Afar the palm trees' lofty heads, that decked
5. The dear, domestic fountain, and in speed
Pressed with broad foot, the smooth and dewy +glade.
The holy man his peaceful threshold passed

+

With hasting step. The evening meal was spread,
And she, who, from life's morn his heart had shared,
10. Breathed her fond welcome. Bowing o'er the board,
The blessing of his father's God he sought;
Ruler of earth and sea. Then raising high

The sparkling wine cup, "Call my sons," he bade,
"And let me bless them ere their hour of rest."
15. The observant mother spake with gentle voice
Somewhat of soft + excuse, that they were wont
To linger long amid the Prophet's school,
Learning the holy law their father loved.

-His sweet repast with sweet discourse was blent,
"Would thou hadst seen

20. Of journeying and return.

With me, the golden morning bring to light
Yon mountain summits, whose blue, waving line

Scarce meets thine eye, where chirp of joyous birds, A breath of fragrant herbs and spicy gales, 25. And sigh of waving boughs, stirred in the soul Warm orisons. Yet most I wished thee near Amid the temple's pomp, when the high priest, Clad in his robe pontifical, invoked

The God of Abraham, while on the lute and harp, 30. Cymbal, and trump, and psaltery, and glad breath Of tuneful Levite, and the mighty shout Of all our people, like the swelling sea, Loud hallelujahs burst. When next I seek Blest Zion's glorious hill, our beauteous boys 35. Must bear me company. Their early prayers Will rise as incense. Thy reluctant love No longer must withhold them :--the new Will give them sweeter sleep, and touch their cheek With brighter crimson. 'Mid their raven curls 40. My hand I'll lay, and dedicate them there, Even in those courts, to Israel's God,

+

toil

Two spotless lambs, well pleasing in his sight.
But yet, methinks, thou 'rt paler grown, my love?
And the pure sapphire of thine eye looks dim,
45. As though 't were washed with tears."

Faintly she smiled,

"One doubt, my lord, I fain would have thee solve
Gems of rich luster and of countless cost

Were to my keeping trusted. Now, alas!

50. They are demanded.

Or may I not a little
Upon their dazzling
And on his lip there
Of indignation.-

+

Must they be restored? longer gaze

hues?" His eyes grew stern,
lurked a sudden curl
"Doth my wife propose

55. Such doubt? as if a master might not claim
His own again?" "Nay, Rabbi, come, behold
These priceless jewels ere I yield them back."
So to their spousal chamber, with soft hand.

+

+

Her lord she led. There, on a snow-white couch 60. Lay his two sons, pale, pale, and motionless, Like fair twin lilies, which some grazing kid In +wantonness had cropped. "My sons!—my sons! Light of my eyes!" the astonished father cried;

My teachers in the law! whose guileless hearts

65. And prompt obedience warned me oft to be

More perfect with my

God!"

To earth he fell,

Like Lebanon's rent cedar; while his breast
Heaved with such groans as when the laboring soul

70. Breaks from its clay companion's close embrace.
The mourning mother turned away and wept,
Till the first storm of passionate grief was still
Then, pressing to his ear her faded lip,

She sighed in tone of tremulous tenderness,
75. "Thou didst instruct me, Rabbi, how to yield
The summoned jewels. See! the Lord did give,
The Lord hath taken away."

"Yea!" said the sire,
"And blessed be his name. Even for thy sake
80. Thrice blessed be Jehovah." Long he pressed
On those cold, beautiful brows his quivering lip,
While from his eye the burning anguish rolled;
Then, kneeling low, those chastened spirits poured
Their mighty homage forth to God

MRS. SIGOURNEY.

QUESTIONS.-What is a Rabbi? What was the character of this Rabbi? Where had he been journeying? How do you know he had been at Jerusalem? Where is Jerusalem? How often did the Jews go up to Jerusalem for religious purposes? What had happened during the Rabbi's absence? What had been the character of his sons? How did his wife prepare him to hear of their death? What is the best support in time of trouble and affliction ?

ARTICULATION..

When similar sounds come at the end of one word and the beginning of the next word, they must not be blended into one sound.

Malice seeks to destroy. The breeze sighs softly. The ice slowly melts. The hosts still stand. The land descends. His death thrilled the nation. Life flies swiftly. With sad dismay he saw his dreaded destiny. His blank countenance revealed all. Grief fills his heart. The jib boom was carried away. The hag groaned drearily.

LESSON LXIX.

ARTICULATE distinctly the t in the following and similar words in this lesson: lost, antagonist, suppliants, duelist, least, last, lift, must, penitent, object, subject, silent, innocent, wept.

1. Im-pe'-ri-ous, a. urgent, not to be 3. Sanct'-u-a-ry, n. a sacred place, u opposed.

place of protection.

4. An-i-mad-vert'-ed, v. censured, reproved.

An-tag'-o-nist, n. an opponent, one who contends with another in combat. 2. Poign'-ant, a. (pro. poin-ant) sharp, 5. [er of action.

severe.

Com-punc'-tion, n. remorse, sorrow from a consciousness of guilt.

Par'-a-ly-zed, v. deprived of the pow- 6. Plen'-i-tude, n. fullness, completeness,

CRIMINALITY OF DUELING.

1. HAMILTON yielded to the force of an imperious custom; and yielding, he sacrificed a life in which all had an interest; and he is lost, lost to his country, lost to his family, lost to us. For this rash act, because he disclaimed it, and was penitent, I forgive him. But there are those whom I can not forgive. I mean not his antagonist, over whose erring steps, if there be tears in heaven, a pious mother looks down and weeps.

2. If he be capable of feeling, he suffers already all that humanity can suffer: suffers, and wherever he may fly, will suffer, with the poignant recollection of having taken the life of one, who was too magnanimous in return to attempt his own. If he had known this, it must have paralyzed his arm while he pointed, at so +incorruptible a bosom, the instrument of death. Does he know this now, his heart, if it be not adamant, must soften; if it be not ice, it must melt. * * *But on this article I forbear. Stained with blood as he is, if he be penitent, I forgive him; and if he be not, before these altars, where all of us appear as suppliants, I wish not to excite your + vengeance, but rather, in behalf of an object rendered wretched and pitiable by crime, to wake your prayers.

3. But I have said, and I repeat it, there are those whom I can not forgive. I can not forgive that minister at the altar, who has hitherto forborne to remonstrate on this subject. I can not forgive that public prosecutor, who, intrusted with the duty of avenging his country's wrongs, has seen these wrongs, and taken no measures to avenge them. I can not forgive that judge upon the bench, or that governor in the chair of state, who has lightly

passed over such offenses. I can not forgive the public, in whose opinion the duelist finds a sanctuary. I can not forgive you, my brethren, who till this late hour have been silent, while + successive murders were committed.

4. No; I can not forgive you, that you have not in common with the freemen of this state, raised your voice to the powers that be, and loudly and explicitly demanded an execution of your laws; demanded this in a manner, which, if it did not reach the ear of government, would at least have reached the heavens, and have pleaded your excuse before the God that filleth them: in whose presence as I stand, I should not feel myself innocent of the blood that crieth against us, had I been silent. But I have not been silent. Many of you who hear me are my witnesses; the walls of yonder temple, where I have heretofore addressed you, are my witnesses, how freely I have animadverted on this subject, in the presence both of those who have violated the laws, and of those whose indispensable duty it is to see the laws executed on those who violate them.

5. I enjoy another opportunity; and would to God, I might be permitted to approach for once the last scene of death. Would to God, I could there assemble on the one side the disconsolate mother with her seven fatherless children, and on the other those who administer the justice of my country. Could I do this, I would point them to these sad objects. I would entreat them, by the agonies of bereaved fondness, to listen to the widow's heartfelt groans; to mark the orphan's sighs and tears; and having done this, I would uncover the breathless corpse of Hamilton; I would lift from his gaping wound his bloody mantle; I would hold it up to heaven before them, and I would ask, in the name of God, I would ask, whether at the sight of it they felt no compunction. Ye who have hearts of pity; ye who have experienced the anguish of dissolving friendship; who have wept, and still. weep over the moldering ruins of departed kindred, ye can enter into this reflection.

6. O thou disconsolate widow! robbed, so cruelly robbed, and in so short a time, both of a husband and a son! what must be the plenitude of thy suffering! Could we approach thee, gladly would we drop the tear of sympathy, and pour into thy bleeding bosom the balm of consolation! But how could we comfort her whom God hath not comforted! To his throne let us lift up our voices and weep. O God! if thou art still the widow's husband, and the father of the fatherless; if, in the fullness of thy goodness, there be yet mercy in store for miserable mortals, pity, O pity this afflicted mother, and grant that her hapless orphans may find a friend, a benefactor, a father in thee!

NOTT.