770.

meter is generally equal to the radius of the base. The largest gasometers are about 100 feet in diameter.

The following economical mode of manufacturing gas has recently been adopted in Manchester. Three or five retorts are used, the central one of which is charged with metallic iron and coke, or with coke alone, and traversed by a current of steam, which is thus decomposed into hydrogen and oxygen. These gases are led through the other retorts, in which coal is undergoing the process of distillation, when the free hydrogen combines with the nascent carbon resulting from the decomposition of different hydro-carbons, and forms olefiant gas, which imparts a great brilliancy to the flame: The gas thus manufactured is called hydro-carbon gas, and its illuminating power is double that of ordinary gas under the same circumstances, while the cost of production is at least not greater than in the former case.

In the use of gas illumination on a large scale, it became necessary to employ an apparatus simple and not liable to get out of order, for measuring the quantity furnished to any establishment, public or private. For this purpose the gasmeter was invented. It consists of a kind of bucket-wheel with its axis placed horizontally, and immersed in a cylinder filled with water up to the axis. A. tube conducts the gas to this axis; the gas then passes through the water and fills the bucket placed in the upper part of the cylinder, whence it escapes through another tube properly arranged for the purpose. As soon as the first bucket is emptied, a second is filled in the same manner; and this admission and discharge of the gas is regularly continued. The gas communicates a motion of rotation to the wheel, and the quantity of gas delivered is ascertained by the number of revolutions made by the apparatus, a number which is registered by the wheel-work put in motion by the axis of the bucket-wheel. Fig. 237 shows the

Fig. 237.

exterior appearance of the gas-meter. The gas enters at and goes out at A.

The pipes which conduct the gas may be made of cast-iron, stone-ware, iron-plate, covered with bituminous mastic, galvanized iron-plate lead, or zinc. The burners have generally the form of those of Argand's lamp, in order that they may have the double current of air. This burner is pierced with fifteen or twenty holes of about one-twentieth of an inch or less in diameter, the diameter of its central space being rather less than an inch.

LESSONS IN READING AND ELOCUTION. No. XVII.

EXERCISES ON EXPRESSIVE TONE (continued).

INTERESTING ADVENTURE.

I wandered far into the bare prairie, which was spread around me like an ocean of snow, the gentle undulations here and there having no small resemblance to the ground swell. When the sun took off his night-cap of mist (for the morning was cloudy), the glare of the landscape, or rather snowscape, was absolutely painful to my eyes; but a small veil of green crape obviated that difficulty. Toward noon I was aware of a buffalo, at a long distance, turning up the snow with his nose and feet, and cropping the withered grass beneath. I always thought it a deed of mercy to slay such an old fellow, he looks so miserable and discontented with himself. As to the individual in question, I determined to put an end to his long, turbulent, and evil life.

To this effect, I approached him as a Chinese malefactor approaches a mandarin-that is to say, prone, like a serpent. But the parity only exists with respect to the posture; for the aforesaid malefactor expects to receive pain, whereas I intended to inflict it. He was a grim-looking barbarian-and, if a beard be a mark of wisdom, Peter the Hermit was a fool to him. So, when I had attained a suitable proximity, I appealed to his feelings with a bullet. He ran and I ran ; and I had the best reason to run-for he ran after me, and I thought that a pair of horns might destroy my usual equanimity and equilibrium. In truth, I did not fly any too fast, for the old bashaw was close behind me, and I could hear him breathe. I threw away my gun; and, as there was ro tree at hand, I gained the centre of a pond of a few yards area, such as are found all over the prairies in February.

Here I stood secure, as though in a magic circle, well knowing that neither pigs nor buffaloes can walk upon ice. My pursuer was advised of this fact also, and did not venture to trust himself on so slippery a footing. Yet it seemed that he was no gentleman; at least he did not practise forgiveness of injuries. He perambulated the periphery of the pond, till I was nearly as cold as the ice under me. It was worse than the stone-jug, or the Black-hole at Calcutta. Ah! thought I, if I only had my gun, I would soon relieve you from your post.

But discontent was all in vain. Thus I remained, and thus he remained, for at least four hours. In the mean while, I thought of the land of steady habits; of baked beans, and pumpkins, and codfish on Saturdays. There, said I to myself, my neighbour's proceeding would be reckoned unlawful, i guess; for no one can be held in custody without a warrant and sufficient reason. If ever I get back, I won't be caught in such a scrape again.

Grief does not last for ever; neither does anger; and my janitor, either forgetting his resentment, which, to say the truth, was not altogether groundless, or thinking it was useless, or tired of his self-imposed duty, or for some reason or other, bid me farewell with a loud bellow, and walked away to a little oasis that was just in sight, and left me to my meditations. I picked up my gun, and followed. He entered the wood-and so did I, just in time to see him fall and expire.

The sun was setting; and the weather was getting colder and colder. I could hear the ground crack, and the trees split, with its intensity. I was at least twenty miles from home; and it behoved me, if I did not wish to "wake in the

morning and find myself dead," to make a fire as speedily as possible. I now first perceived that, in my very natural hurry to escape from my shaggy foe, I had lost the martin-skin wherein I carried my flint, steel, and tinder. This was of little consequence; I had often made a fire by the aid of my gun before, and I drew my knife and began to pick the flint. Death to my hopes-at the very first blow I struck it ten yards from the lock, and it was lost for ever in the snow. "Well," said I to myself, "I have cooked a pretty kettle of fish, and brought my calf's head to a fine market. Shall I furnish those dissectors, the wolves, with a subject, or shall cold work the same effect on me that grief did upon Niobe? Would that I had a skin like a buffalo!"

Necessity is the spur, as well as the mother, of invention; and, at these last words, a new idea flashed through my brain like lightning. I verily believe that I took off the skin of my victim in fewer than ten strokes of my knife. Such a hide entire is no trifle; it takes a strong man to lift it;-but I rolled the one in question about me, with the hair inward, and lay down to sleep, tolerably sure that neither Jack Frost nor the wolves could get at me, through an armour thicker and tougher than the sevenfold shield of Ajax.

Darkness closed in; and a raven began to sound his note of evil omen from a neighbouring branch. "Croak on, black angel," said I; "I have heard croaking before now, and am not to be frightened by any of your colour." Suddenly a herd of wolves struck up at a distance, probably excited by the scent of the slain buffalo. "Howl on," said I; "and, being among wolves, I will howl too-for I like to be in the fashion but that shall be the extent of our intimacy." Accordingly, I uplifted my voice, like a pelican in the wilderness, and gave them back their noise, with interest. Then I lay down again, and moralised. This, thought I, is life. What would my poor mother say, if she were alive now? I have read books of adventure, but never read anything like this. fell asleep, without further ado.-Snelling.

THOUGHTS ON POLITENESS.

I

The common notion about politeness is, that it is a thing of the body, and not of the mind; and that he is a polite man who makes certain motions in a graceful manner, and at proper times and places. We expect the dancing master to teach our children "manners," as well as the art of cutting awkward capers to music. But the truth is, that we degrade politeness by making it anything less than a cardinal virtue.

The happiness of life is made up of an infinite number of little things, and not of startling events and great emotions; and he who daily and hourly diffuses pleasure around him by kind offices, frank salutations, and cheerful looks, deserves as well of his species, as he who, neglecting or despising all these, makes up for it by occasional acts of generosity, justice, or benevolence. Besides, the opportunity of doing great things but rarely occurs, while a.man has some dozens of chances, every day of his life, to show whether he be polite

or not.

A truly polite man must, in the first place, have the gift of good sense, for, without that foundation, it is idle to think of rearing any, even the smallest superstructure. He must know when to violate that code of conventional forms which common consent has established, and when not; for it is equally a mark of weakness to be a slave to these forms or to despise them. He must have penetration and tact enough to adapt his conversation and manner to circumstances and individuals; for that which is politeness in the drawing-room, may be downright rudeness in the bar-room or the stage-coach, as well

as the converse.

Above all, he must have that enlarged and catholic spirit of| humility, which is the child of self-knowledge, and the parent of benevolence (indeed, politeness itself is merely benevolence seen through the little end of a spy-glass), which, not content with bowing low to this rich man.or.that fine lady, respects the rights, and does justice to the claims, of every member of the great human family.

As for the fastidious and exclusive persons, who look down upon a man created and upheld by the same power as themselves, and heir to the same immortal destinies, because he does not dress in a particular style, or visit in certain houses, they are out of the question. If they are too weak to perceive

the grotesque absurdity of their own conduct, they have not capacity enough to master the alphabet of 'good manners. If angelic natures be susceptible of ludicrous emotions, we know of nothing more likely to call them forth than the sight of an insect inhabitant of this great ant-hill assuming airs of superiority over his brother emmet, because he has a few more grains of barley in his granary, or some other equally cogent

reason.

Of the gentlemen, young and old, whiskered and unwhiskered, that may be seen in Regent-street any sunshiny day, there is not one who does not think himself a polite man, and who would not very much resent any insinuation to the contrary. Their opinion is grounded on reasons something like the following. When they go to a party, they make a low bow to the mistress of the house, and then look round for somebody that is young and pretty to make themselves agreeable to.

At a ball they will do their utmost to entertain their partner, unless the fates have given them to some one who is ugly and awkward; and they will listen to her remarks with their most bland expression. If they are invited to a dinner party, they go in their best coats, praise their entertainer's wine, and tell the lady they hope her children are all well. If they tread on the toes of a well-dressed person, they will beg his pardon. They never spit on a carpet; and, in walking with a lady, they always give her the inside; and, if the practice be allowable, they offer her their arm.

So far, very good; but I must always see a man in certain situations before I decide whether he be polite or not. I should like to see how he would act if placed at dinner between an ancient maiden lady and a country clergyman with a small salary and a.rusty coat, and with some distinguished person opposite to him. I want to see him on a hot and dusty day, sitting on the back seat of a stage-coach, when the driver takes in some poor lone woman, with, may be, a child in her arms, and tells the gentlemen that one of them must ride outside and make room for her.

I want to be near him when his washerwoman makes some very good excuse to him for not bringing home his clothes at the usual time, or not doing up an article in exactly the style he wished. I want to hear the tone and emphasis with which he gives orders to servants in steam-boats and taverns. I mark his conduct when he is walking with an umbrella, on a rainy day, and overtakes an old man, or an invalid, or a decent-looking woman, who are exposed, without If he be in company protection, to the violence of the storm. with those whom he thinks his inferiors, I listen to hear if his conversation be entirely about himself. If some of the number be very distinguished, and some quite unknown, I observe whether he acts as if he were utterly unconscious of the presence of these last.

These are a few, and but a few, of the tests by which I try a man; and, I am sorry to say, there are very few who can stand them all. There is many a one who passes in the world for a well-bred man, because he knows when to bow and smile, that is down in my tablets for a selfish, vulgar, unpolite monster, that loves his own little finger better than his neighbour's whole body. Put any man in a situation where he is called upon to make a sacrifice of his own comfort and ease, without any equivalent in return, and you will learn the difference between true politeness, that sterling ore of the heart, and the counterfeit imitation of it, which passes current in drawing-rooms. Any man must be an idiot not to be polite in society, so called; for how else would he get his oysters and champagne ?-Hillard.

ODE ON ART

When, from the sacred garden driven,
Man fled before his Maker's wrath,
An angel left her place in heaven,

And crossed the wanderer's sunless path. 'Twas Art! sweet Art! new radiance broke Where her light foot flew o'er the ground; And thus with seraph voice she spoke,"The Curse a Blessing shall be found." She led him through the trackless wild, Where noontide sunbeam never blazed;

The thistle shrunk, the harvest smiled,
And Nature gladdened, as she gazed.
Earth's thousand tribes of living things,
At Art's command, to him are given;
The village grows, the city springs,

And point their spires of faith to heaven.

He rends the oak,-and bids it ride,

To guard the shores its beauty graced;
He smites the rock,-upheaved in pride,

See towers of strength and domes of taste.
Earth's teeming caves their wealth reveal,
Fire bears his banner on the wave,
He bids the mortal poison heal,

And leaps triumphant o'er the grave.
He plucks the pearls that stud the deep,
Admiring Beauty's lap to fill;
He breaks the stubborn marble's sleep,
And imitates creating skill.

With thoughts that swell his glowing soul,
He bids the ore illume the page,
And proudly scorning Time's control,
Converses with an unborn age.

In fields of air he writes his name,

And treads the chambers of the sky; He reads the stars, and grasps the flame That quivers round the Throne on high,

In war renowned, in peace sublime,

He moves in greatness and in grace; His power, subduing space and time,

Links realm to realm, and race to race.-Sprague.

GOD.

[The piece which follows is designed for practice in the " very slow rate which characterises deep awe. Reverence, solemnity, and awe,-but especially the last,-incline to extreme slowness, great prolongation of single sounds, and remarkably long pauses. The tone of these emotions is deep, although not so peculiarly low as that which was exemplified in the preceding lesson. Length of vowel sounds, and length of pauses, are the main objects of practice in such exercises.]

[ᄒ]
O Thou eternal One! whose presence bright
All space doth occupy, all motion guide:
Unchanged through time's all-devastating flight;
Thou only God! There is no God beside!
Being above all beings! Mighty One!
Whom none can comprehend, and none explore;
Who fill'st existence with Thyself alone:
Embracing all,-supporting,-ruling o'er,-
Being whom we call God,-and know no more!

In its sublime research, philosophy
May measure out the ocean-deep,-may count
The sand or the sun's rays; but, God! for Thee
There is no weight nor measure :-none can mount
Up to Thy mysteries. Reason's brightest spark,
Though kindled by Thy light, in vain would try
To trace Thy counsels, infinite and dark;
And thought is lost ere thought can soar so high,
Even like past moments in eternity.

Thou from primeval nothingness didst call
First chaos, then existence:-Lord! on Thee
Eternity had its foundation;—all

Sprung forth from Thee:-of light, joy, harmony,
Sole origin:-all life, all beauty Thine.
Thy word created all, and doth create;
Thy splendour fills all space with rays divine.
Thou art, and wert, and shalt be! Glorious! Great!
Light-giving, life-sustaining Potentate!

Thy chains the unmeasured universe surround,
Upheld by Thee, by Thee inspired with breath!
Thou the beginning with the end hast bound,
And beautifully mingled life and death!

As sparks mount upwards from the fiery blaze,
So suns are born, so worlds sprung forth from Thee:

And as the spangles in the sunny rays
Shine round the silver snow, the pageantry
Of heaven's bright army glitters in Thy praise.

A million torches lighted by Thy hand,
Wander, unwearied, through the blue abyss:
They own Thy power, accomplish thy command,
All gay with life, all eloquent with bliss.

What shall we call them? Piles of crystal light,—
A glorious company of golden streams,-
Lamps of celestial ether burning bright,—
Suns lighting systems with their joyous beams?
But Thou to these art as the noon to night.

Yes! as a drop of water in the sea,

All this magnificence in Thee is lost :

What are ten thousand worlds compared to Thee?
And what am I then? Heaven's unnumbered host,
Though multiplied by myriads, and arrayed
In all the glory of sublimest thought,

Is but an atom in the balance, weighed
Against Thy greatness, is a cipher brought

Against infinity! Oh! what am I then? Nought!

Nought! yet the effluence of Thy light divine,
Pervading worlds, hath reached my bosom too,
Yes! in my spirit doth Thy spirit shine,
As shines the sunbeam in a drop of dew.
Nought! yet I live, and on hope's pinions fly
Eager towards Thy presence; for in Thee
I live, and breathe, and dwell; aspiring high,
Even to the throne of Thy divinity.

I am, O God! and surely Thou must be !
Thou art directing, guiding all, Thou art!
Direct my understanding, then, to Thee;
Control my spirit, guide my wandering heart:
Though but an atom 'midst immensity,
Still I am something fashioned by Thy hand!
I hold a middle rank 'twixt heaven and earth,
On the last verge of mortal being stand,
Close to the realms where angels have their birth,
Just on the boundaries of the spirit-land!
The chain of being is complete in me:
In me is matter's last gradation lost;
And the next step is spirit,-Deity!

-I can command the lightning, and am dust!

A monarch, and a slave; a worm, a god!
Whence came I here? and how so marvellously
Constructed and conceived! Unknown!-This clod
Lives surely through some higher energy;

For from itself alone it could not be!
Creator, yes! Thy wisdom and Thy word
Created me! Thou source of life and good!
Thou spirit of my spirit, and my Lord!
Thy light, thy love, in their bright plenitude
Filled me with an immortal soul, to spring
Over the abyss of death, and made it wear
The garments of eternal day, and wing
Its heavenly flight beyond this little sphere,
Even to its source,-to Thee,-its Author there.
Oh! thoughts ineffable! Oh! visions blest!
Though worthless our conceptions all of Thee,
Yet shall Thy shadowed image fill our breast,
And waft its homage to Thy Deity.
God! thus alone my lonely thoughts can soar;
Thus seek Thy presence, Being wise and good!
'Midst Thy vast works admire, obey, adore;
And when the tongue is eloquent no more,
The soul shall speak in tears of gratitude.

NIAGARA.

Derzhavin.

[The following piece is designed for practice in the 'slow' utterance which characterises the tones of sublimity and awe. The 'rate' of voice is not altogether so slow as in the preceding lesson; yet it retains much of that effect which cannot be given without slowness of movement and full pauses. The note, in the style of this lesson, continues low, although not so | remarkably deep as in the preceding. The principal object of .

practice, in this instance, is to secure that degree of 'slow...s which marks the tones of wonder and astonishment.]

[] Flow on for ever, in thy glorious robe
Of terror and of beauty! Yea, flow on
Unfathomed and resistless! God hath set
His rainbow on thy forehead: and the cloud
Mantled around thy feet. And he doth give
Thy voice of thunder, power to speak of Him
Eternally,-bidding the lip of man

Keep silence, and upon thy rocky altar pour
Incense of awe-struck praise.

Ah! who can dare
To lift the insect-trump of earthly hope,
Or love or sorrow, 'mid the peal sublime
Of thy tremendous hymn? Even Ocean shrinks
Back from thy brotherhood; and all his waves
Retire abashed. For he doth sometimes seem
To sleep like a spent labourer, and recall
His wearied billows from their vexing play,
And lull them to a cradle calm; but thou
With everlasting, undecaying tide,
Doth rest not, night or day. The morning stars,
When first they sang o'er young creation's birth,
Heard thy deep anthem; and those wrecking fires
That wait the archangel's signal to dissolve
This solid earth, shall find Jehovah's name
Graven as with a thousand diamond spears,
On thine unending volume.

Every leaf,

That lifts itself within thy wide domain,
Doth gather greenness from thy living spray,
Yet tremble at the baptism. Lo!-yon birds
Do boldly venture near, and bathe their wing
Amid thy mist and foam. "T is meet for them,
To touch thy garment's hem, and lightly stir
The snowy leaflets of thy vapour wreath,
For they may sport unharmed amid the cloud,
Or listen at the echoing gate of heaven,
Without reproof. But, as for us, it seems
Scarce lawful, with our broken tones, to speak
Familiarly of thee. Methinks to tint
Thy glorious features with our pencil's point,
Or woo thee to the tablet of a song,
Were profanation.

Thou dost make the soul

A wondering witness of thy majesty;
But as it presses with delirious joy
To pierce thy vestibule, dost chain its step,
And tame its rapture with the humbling view
Of its own nothingness; bidding it stand
In the dread presence of the Invisible,

As if to answer to its God through thee.-Sigourney.

LESSONS IN GREEK.-No. XXXVII.
BY JOHN R. BEARD, D.D.
LIQUID VERBS.

The Formation of the Tenses of Liquid Verbs. LIQUID Verbs are those whose characteristic is a liquid, namely, A, μ, v, or p. Liquid Verbs form the Future active and middle and the First Aorist active and middle without the tense-characteristic σ, and yet take the tense-characteristic in the First Perfect and Pluperfect active; as, σφάλλω (pure stem ΣΦΑΛ), I trip up, stumble σφάλλω, fut. σφαλῶ, aor. 1. ε-σφηλ-α, pf. ε-σφαλ-και The Future terminations of liquid verbs, ὤ, οἶμαι (from εσω, σoμai), are circumflexed like the Present active and middle of contracted verbs in εω, as φιλοῶ, φιλ-οῦμαι. Liquid verbs have not the Third Future.

With few exceptions, the Present of those verbs whose stem-vowel is, has undergone a strengthening of the pure

stem, which strengthening consists either in the doubling of the A, or the liquid is introduced after the characteristic, as σφάλλω ; stem ΣΦΑΛ, Present σφάλλω, the λ being doubled ; TEμV-w, pure stem TEM, v being introduced to form the Present; or in this, that the root-vowel is either lengthened, namely, i is lengthened into ī and ŭ into v, as all verbs in ίνω, ύνω, e.g. κρίνω, I judge, αμύνω, I ward of, σύρω, I draw out, pure stems KPIN (), AMYN (v), ΣYP (v), or the vowel is changed into a diphthong, that is, a into ai, & into ; e.g. φαιν-ω, I show, κτειν-ω, I kill, pure stem ΦΑΝ, ΚΤΕΝ. Μεν-ω, I remain, and veμ-w, I divide, retain the form of the pure stem; c.g.

The First Perfect active is ɛ-σpaλ-xa, and the Second Aorist passive is ε-σφαλ-ην.

The pure stem appears in the Second Aorist -opaλ-yv and the Future opaλ-w; yet, since only a few liquid verbs, form the Second Aorist, the pure stem is not, as in the mute verbs, taken from the Second Aorist, but from the Future.

Liquid verbs with monosyllabic stems and the stem vowel take the conversion a in the Second Aorist, in the First Perfect and Pluperfect active, the Perfect and Pluperfect middle or passive, in the First Aorist, First and Second Future passive, as well as in the verbal adjective; and the conversion o in the Second Perfect and Pluperfect; as in στελλω, I send.

OTEλ-w, fut. OTEλ-w, perf. 1. act. ɛ-σraλ-кα, perf. mid. or pass. ε-σταλ-μαι, a. 1. pass. ε-σταλ-θην (poet.), a. 2. pass. ε-στάλην, v. adj. σταλ-τεος.

p0ɛip-w, fut. ¿0ɛp-w, perf. 1. act. ɛ-40ap-ka, perf mid. or pass. ε-φθαρ-μαι, a. 2. pass. ε-φθαρ-ην, v. adj. φθαρτος, but perfect 2. ε-φθορα.

4th Class, with in the Future.

αμυν-ῶ

ε-συρ-α nuvv-a

σup-w, I drag (tow a ship), σup-~ apvv-w, I keep off, Of the verbs of the first class, not ŋ but a is taken by the following: those in αινω, as ισχναίνω, I make lean, ισχνᾶνα, ισχ νᾶναι; κερδαίνω, I gain, εκερδάνα, κερδᾶναι; κοιλαίνω, I hollow, εκοιλάνα, κοιλᾶναι; λευκαίνω, I make white, οργαίνω, I make angry, Teraivw, I make ripe; also by all in pairw, as Tepat, I finish, f. περάνω, aor. ἐπεράνα, inf. περᾶναι ; and by all in ιαινω, as πιαίνω, I make fat, επιᾶνα, πιᾶναι (except μιαινω, Ι spot, uiñvai). Also aipw, I take, and aλouai, I leap, belong here, ἒρα, ᾶραι, ἡλαμην, άλασθαι (not ἒραι, ἡλασθαι).

The First Perfect active of verbs with the characteristic must end in yea, as μɛ-may-ka (from piaww), instead of μEμLav-κa. This form, however, is found only among the later writers. Good style had other forms, as kepdaivw, I gain, perf. κεκερδάκα; μένω, I remain, μεμενηκα, from MEΝΕΩ. Many verbs have no Perfect. Also the verbs with μ for their characteristic form the Perfect from a theme in e, as veu-w, I divide, νενέμηκα, as from NΕΜΕΩ.

The three verbs following, with for their characteristic, eject the in not only the Perfect and Pluperfect active, but also in the Perfect and Pluperfect middle or passive, in the First Aorist passive, and in the verbal adjective;

Respecting the formation of the Perfect middle or passive, you must observe the following:

When 0 follows a liquid, the σ is thrown out, as nyyedσθαι, ηγγελ-θαι; so πεφάνθαι.

In verbs in avw and vvw the before the termination be ginning with μ commonly disappears, and a σ is introduced to strengthen the syllable, as φαιν-ω, πεφα-σ-μαι, πεφα-σ-μεθα ; but in some verbs of this kind the assimilates itself to the following μ, as apožvvw, I sharpen, excite, wapwvp-pa, inf. παρωξυν-θαι; αισχύνω, I cause shame, ησχυμ-μαι, inf. ᾔσχυν·θαι.

In the Second Perfect, which however is formed by only a few verbs, the short stem-vowel is lengthened before the termination a, as in the First Aorist active, except verbs having in the Future, which take the conversion o, as φαιν-ω, a. 1. ε-φην-α; pf. 2. πε-φηνα.

I think it time now to commence a series of historical anecdotes given by the Greek classic writers. With such aid as I shall afford, the careful student will have no difficulty in translating the Greek into English, nor in explaining the grammatical formations. The extracts will afford a pleasing recreation from the dry, verbal, and minute studies in which we are of necessity engaged, and serve as a means of examination and a criterion of progress.

HISTORICAL ANECDOTES.

Αλεξανδρος ετι παις ων, πολλα του Φιλιππου κατορθοῦντος, ουκ έχαιρεν, αλλα προς τους συντρεφομένους έλεγε παιδας Εμοι δε ὁ πατηρ ουδεν απολείψει. Των δε παίδων λεγοντων ότι Σοι ταυτα κτᾶται· Τί δε οφελος, είπεν, εαν εχωμεν πολλα, πραξω δε ουδεν; Αλεξανδρος δε ελαφρος ων και ποδώκης και παρακαλούμενος ύπο του πατρος Ολυμπια δραμεῖν στάδιον, Ει γε, έφη, βασιλεῖς ἕξειν εμελλον ανταγωνιστας. Περιλλου δε τινος των φίλων αιτήσαντος προῖκα τοις θυγατρίοις, εκέλευσε πεντήκοντα ταλαντα λαβεῖν· αυτου δε φησαντος ίκανα ειναι δεκα, Σοι γε, εφη, λαβεῖν, εμοι δ' ουχ ἱκανα δοῦναι.

VOCABULARY, EXPLANATIONS, AND QUESTIONS. Karoplouvτos, gen. absol., the present participle from KаTоρlow, I set upright, I succeed in,-Philip (his father) succeeding in many things; that is, at his father's numerous

successes.

Χαιρω, I rejoice; f. χαιρήσω, aor. 2. pass. εχρην. Evvтρεpoμεvous, pres. participle middle or passive, accusa

these tenses.

full.

Exappos, a, ov, light, nimble; write out the adjective in swift of foot; superl. Tod@KEσTaTos; write out the adjective in Ποδώκης, ες (πους, ποδος, a foot, and ωκυς, εια, υ, swift», full.

Oλvμñios, a, ov, Olympic; in the neuter plural, the Olympic games.

Δραμεῖν, aor. 2. infin., dependent on παρακαλουμενος (παρα, to, and kalew, I call, exhort, urge), from rpexw, I run; fut. θρεξομαι; it is to be taken with στάδιον (ου, το, a stadium or race-course), as if a compound, thus oradiodpaμtiv, meaning to run a race; the construction then is, graduodμe via, that is, to contend in a chariot-race in the Olympic games. El YE, if indeed; the phrase is elliptical,-yes, being understood. Yes, I would, if I were to have," etc.

Euελov, first person sing. indicative mood, Imperfect tense, from μew, I intend, I am about to, I am likely to,-"if I were to have."

Avray@viorns (our antagonist), as antagonists; the accusative plural governed by eV.

Aɛ, and; this particle is repeated, as in the text, at the beginning of the second, the third, and following sentences of a consecutive narrative, connecting the parts together and showing that they are consecutive in thought as well as in

order.

Airnoavros, gen. absol. (agreeing with Пepiλov) of the First Aorist participle from aurew, airηow, prŋkα, I ask, solicit; write out the participle in full;-Perillus having

solicited.

ПIpoika, accusative singular, depending on airnoavтos, of the noun poi, gen. πроikоs, acc. πpoika, a gift, a marriageportion. Ovyarpiov (from Ouyarno, a daughter), a sister's child; here a niece on the sister's side.

EKE EUσE, whence is this form? what is the first ? what KEλEU-? what EXEλEVO-? Give the Future; give the Perfect active; give the Perfect middle or passive.

noavros, what part of speech is this? what is its case? Why is this called an absolute case? What is the absolute case in Latin? What is the root?

Aaßtiv, the aor. 2. infin. from Aaμßavw, I take, I receive. Aouvai, the aor, 2. infin. from didwμ, I give. 'Ikavoc, n, ov, sufficient; the neuter plural, to agree with ταλαντα.

Zoɩ yɛ, what is the force of the ys here? Fill up the construction.

Write out the whole passage in neat idiomatic English. If you have studied Latin, translate the passage into good idiomatic Latin, and mark how the two languages agree and how they differ.

LESSONS IN ALGEBRA.-No. XVIII.
(Continued from page 194.)

SIMPLE EQUATIONS. FOUR OR MORE UNKNOWN QUANTITIES. THE same method which is employed for the reduction of three equations, may be extended to 4, 5, or any number of equations, containing as many unknown quantities.

The unknown quantities may be exterminated, one after another, and the number of equations may be reduced by successive steps from 5 to 4, from 4 to 3, from 3 to 2, and so on to 1.