Their waving folds with such a perfect glow Of all pure tints, the fairy pictures throw Shame on the proudest art;

*

These are thy trophies, and thou bend'st thy arch,
The sign of triumph, in a seven-fold twine,
Where the spent storm is hasting on its march;
And there the glories of thy light combine,
And form with perfect curve, a lifted line,
Striding the earth and air;

--

man looks and tells

How Peace and Mercy in its beauty shine,

And how the heavenly messenger impels

Her glad wings on the path, that thus in ether swells.

The ocean is thy vassal;

thou dost sway

His waves to thy dominion, and they go

Where thou, in heaven, dost guide them on their way,

Rising and falling in eternal flow;

Thou lookest on the waters, and they glow, And take them wings and spring aloft in air,

And change to clouds; and then, dissolving, throw Their treasures back to earth, and, rushing, tear The mountain and the vale, as proudly on they bear.

In thee, first light, the bounding ocean smiles,
When the quick winds uprear it in a swell,
That rolls in glittering green around the isles,
Where ever-springing fruits and blossoms dwell,
O! with a joy no gifted tongue can tell,
I hurry o'er the waters, when the sail

Swells tensely, and the light keel glances well,
Over the curling billow, and the gale

Comes off from spicy groves, to tell its winning tale.

LESSON XCVIII.

Apostrophe to the Ocean.-BYRON.

THERE is a pleasure in the pathless woods;
There is a rapture on the lonely shore ;
There is society where none intrudes,

By the deep sea, and music in its roar.
I love not man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal

From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the universe, and feel
What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.

- roll!

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain,
Man marks the earth with ruin - his control
Stops with the shore: the watery plain,

- upon

The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,

When for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown.
* * * * *

The armaments, which thunderstrike the walls
Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake,
And monarchs tremble in their capitals;
The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make
Their clay creator the vain title take
Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war;

These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake,
They melt into thy yest of waves, which mar
Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.

Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they

Thy waters wasted them while they were free,
And many a tyrant since; their shores obey
The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay
Has dried up realms to deserts: --not so thou;

Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves' play-
Time writes no wrinkles on thine azure brow -
Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form
Glasses itself in tempests; in all time,

Calm or convulsed in breeze, or gale, or storm,
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime

Dark heaving;

boundless, endless and sublime

The image of Eternity- the throne

Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime

The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.

And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy

Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
Borne, like thy bubbles, onward;

I wantoned with thy breakers

- from a boy

they to me

Were a delight; and if the freshening sea
Made them a terror, - 't was a pleasing fear;
For I was, as it were, a child of thee,

And trusted to thy billows far and near,
hand upon thy mane

And laid my

as I do here.

LESSON XCIX.

On the Use and Abuse of Amusements. ALISON.

Ir were unjust and ungrateful to conceive that the amusements of life are altogether forbid by its beneficent Author. They serve, on the contrary, important purposes in the economy of human life, and are destined to produce important

effects, both upon our happiness and character. They are, in the first place, in the language of the Psalmist, "the wells of the desert; " the kind resting-places in which toil may relax, in which the weary spirit may recover its tone, and where the desponding mind may resume its strength and its hopes.

They are, in another view, of some importance to the dignity of individual character. In everything we call amusement, there is generally some display of taste and imagination, — some elevation of the mind from mere animal indulgence, or the baseness of sensual desire. Even in the scenes of relaxation, therefore, they have a tendency to preserve the dignity of human character, and to fill up the vacant and unguarded hours of life, with occupations innocent, at least, if not virtuous. But their principal effect, perhaps, is upon the social character of man. Whatever amusement is sought, it is in the society of our brethren; and whenever it is found, it is in our sympathy with the happiness of those around us. bespeaks the disposition of benevolence, and it creates it.

It

When men assemble, accordingly, for the purpose of general happiness or joy, they exhibit to the thoughtful eye, one of the most pleasing appearances of their original characters. They leave behind them, for a time, the faults of their station and the asperities of their temper; - they forget the secret views and selfish purposes of their ordinary life, and mingle with the crowd around them with no other view than to receive and to communicate happiness. It is a spectacle which it is impossible to observe without emotion; and, while the virtuous man rejoices at the evidence which it affords of the benevolent constitution of his nature, the pious man is apt to bless the benevolence of that God, who thus makes the wilderness and the solitary place be glad, and whose wisdom renders even the hours of amusement subservient to the cause of virtue.

It is not, therefore, the use of the innocent amusements of

it is not

life which is dangerous, but the abuse of them;when they are occasionally, but when they are constantly pursued; when the love of amusement degenerates into a passion, and when, from being an occasional indulgence, it becomes an habitual desire. What the consequences of this inordinate love of amusement are, I shall now endeavor very briefly to show you.

When we look, in a moral view, to the consequences of human pursuits, we are not to stop at the precise and immediate effects, which they may seem to have upon character. It is chiefly by the general frame of mind they produce, and the habitual dispositions they create, that we are to determine whether their influence is fortunate or unfortunate on those who are engaged in them. In every pursuit, whatever gives strength and energy to the mind of man, experience teaches to be favorable to the interests of piety, of knowledge, and of virtue; -in every pursuit, on the contrary, whatever enfeebles or limits the powers of mind, the same experience everywhere shows to be hostile to the best interests of human nature.

If it is in this view, we consider the effects of the habitual love even of the most innocent amusement, we shall find that it produces necessarily, for the hour in which it is indulged, an enfeebled and dependent frame of mind; that in such scenes energy resolves, and resolution fades; that in the enjoyment of the present hour, the past and the future are alike forgotten; and that the heart learns to be satisfied with passive emotion, and momentary pleasure.

It is to this single observation, my young friends, that I wish at present to direct your attention; and to entreat you to consider what may be expected to be the effects of such a character of mind, at your age, upon the honor and happiness of future life.

1. It tends to degrade all the powers of the understanding. It is the eternal law of nature, that truth and wisdom are the offspring of labor, of vigor, and perseverance in every worthy