The color of 't is dark: I'd have it light, Ges. Take it as it is: Thy skill will be the greater if thou hitt'st it. Tell. True true! I did not think of that; I wonder I did not think of that. Give me some chance [force.) If I can help it; for the honor of The form thou wearest, if all the heart is gone. Ges. Well: choose thyself. Tell. Have I a friend among the lookers on? Tell. I thank thee, Verner! He is a friend runs out into a storm To shake a hand with us. I must be brief. The boy! the boy! Thinkest thou he hath the courage To stand it? Ver. Yes. Tell. Does he tremble? Ver. No. Tell. Art sure? Ver. I am. Tell. How looks he? Ver. Clear and smilingly. If you doubt it, look yourself. Tell. No, no, my friend: To hear it is enough. Ver. He bears himself so much above his years— Tell. I know! I know! Ver. With constancy so modest— Tell. I was sure he would Ver. And looks with such relying love And reverence upon you— Tell. Man! Man! Man! No more! Already I'm too much the father more, my friend! To act the man! Verner, no Ver. Come, Albert! (Leading him out.) Alb. I would only kiss his hand. Ver. You must not. go ? Alb. I must; I cannot go from him without. Alb. His will, is it? I am content, then; come. Go now, Tell. My boy! (Holding out his arms to him.) Thou art stanch, stanch. Let me see my quiver. Ges. Give him a single arrow. Tell. Do you shoot? Soldier. I do. Tell. Is it so you pick an arrow, friend? The point, you e, is bent; the feather, jagged. That's all the use + Ges. Let him have another. is fit for. Tell. Why, 'tis better than the first, But yet not good enough for such an aim As I'm to take. 'Tis heavy in the shaft; [(Breaks it.) I'll not shoot with it! (Throws it away.) Let me see my quiver. Bring it! 'Tis not one arrow in a dozen I'd take to shoot with at a dove, much less Ges. It matters not. Show him the quiver. Tell. See if the boy is ready. Ver. He is. (Tell here hides an arrow under his vest.) Tell. I'm ready, too! Keep silent, for Heaven's sake, and do not stir; and let me have "Tis only for the chance of saving it. (To the people.) Ges. Go on. Tell. I will. O friends, for mercy's sake keep motionless, And silent. (Tell shoots. A shout of exultation bursts from the crowd. Tell's head drops on his bosom; he with difficulty supports himself on his bow.) Ver. (Rushing in with Albert.) Thy boy is safe, no hair of him is touched. Alb. Father, I'm safe. Your Albert's safe, dear father; Speak to me! Speak to me ! Ver. He cannot, boy! Alb. You grant him life? Ges. I do. Alb. And we are free? Ges. You are. (Crossing angrily behind.) Ver. Open his vest, And give him air. (Albert opens his father's vest, and the arrow drops. Tell starts, fixes his eyes on Albert, and clasps him to his breast.) Tell. My boy! My boy! Ges. For what Hid you that arrow in your breast? Speak, slave! Tell. To kill thee, tyrant, had I slain my boy! * KNOWLES. * Notwithstanding Gesler's promise, Tell was again loaded with chains, and confined in prison. Succeeding, however, in making his escape, he soon afterward shot Gesler through the heart, and thus freed his country from the most galling bondage. His memory is, to this day, cherished in Switzerland, as that of one of the most heroic defenders of liberty. QUESTION s.-In what kind of tone should you read, "True, I did not think of that," line 31? Why? Relate the whole story in your own language. What became of Gesler? Parse each word in the last line. PRONUNCIATION AND ARTICULATION. Look-ers, not look-uz smi-ling-ly, not smi-l'n-ly: rev-er-ence, not rev-runce: stead-y, not stid-y. SPELL AND DEFINE. Accords, brief, tyrant, courage, constancy, witnesses, motionless. RULE LESSON XCIX. Prolong the sounds of those consonants which are italicized. B-old, d-eign, father, g-ather, j-oy, l-ight, m-an, n-o, q-ueer, p-r-ay, v-ale, w-oe y-our, z-one, h-ang. Words to be Spelled and Defined. 1 Pat'-ri-ot-ism, n. the love of country. 2. Goad, v. to prick. to urge forward. In-gre'-di-ent, n. that which enters into any thing as a part of it. 3. Sub-li'-ming. p. exalting. 4. Mar'-tyr-dom. n. death or suffering on account of one's principles. 5. Vi'-tiate, v. (pro vish'-ate) to injure the qualities of any thing. 6. Mar'-i-time, a. (pro. mar'-e-tim) bordering on the sea. Ar-cade'. n. a long or continued series of arches. 7. Or-gan'-ic, a. organic remains are the remains of living bodies turned into stone. 9. Rem-i-nis'-cen-ces. n. recollections. En-act-ments, n. the passing of laws. THE PATRIOTISM OF WESTERN LITERATURE. 1. OUR literature cannot fail to be patriotic, and its patriotism will be American; composed of a love of country, mingled with an admiration for our political institutions. 2. The slave, whose very mind has passed under the yoke, and the senseless ox, which he goads-onward in the furrow, are attached to the spot of their animal companionship, and may even fight for the cabin and the field where they came into existence; but this affection, considered as an ingredient of patriotism, although the most universal, is the lowest; and to rise into a virtue, it must be discriminating and comprehensive, involving a varied association of ideas, and embracing the beautiful of the natural and moral world, as they appear around us. 3. To feel in his heart, and to infuse into his writings the spirit of such a patriotism, the scholar must feast his taste on the delicacies of our scenery, and dwell with enthusiasm on the genius of our constitution and laws. Thus sanctified in its character, this sentiment becomes a principle of moral and intellectual dignity; an element of fire, purifying and subliming the mass in which it glows. 4. As a guiding star to the will, its light is inferior only to that of. Christianity. Heroic in its philanthropy, untiring in its enterprises, and sublime in the martyrdoms it willingly suffers, it justly occupies a high place among the virtues which ennoble the human character. A literature, animated with this patriotism, is a national blessing, and such will be the literature of the West. 5. The literature of the whole Union must be richly endowed with this spirit; but a double portion will be the lot of the interior, because the foreign influences, which dilute and vitiate this virtue in the extremities, cannot reach the heart of the continent, where all that lives and moves is American. 6. Hence a native of the West may be confided in as his country's hope. Compare him with the native of a great maritime city, on the verge of the nation; his birthplace the fourth story of a house, hemmed in by surrounding edifices, his playground a pavement, the scene of his juvenile rambles an arcade of shops, his young eyes feasted on the flags of a hundred alien governments, the streets in which he wanders crowded with foreigners, and the ocean, common to all nations, forever expanding to his view. 7. Estimate his love of country, as far as it depends on local and early attachments, and then contrast him with the young backwoodsman, born and reared amid objects, scenes, and events, which you can all bring to mind; the jutting rocks in the great road, half alive with organic remains, or sparkling with crystals; the quiet old walnut tree, dropping its nuts upon the yellow leaves, as the morning sun melts the October frost; the grapevine swing; the chase after the cowardly black snake, till it creeps under the rotten log; the sitting down to rest upon the crumbling trunk, and an idle examination of the mushrooms and mosses which grow from its ruins : 8. Then, the wading in the shallow stream, and upturning of the flat stones, to find bait with which to fish in the deeper waters; next the plunder of a bird's nest, to make necklaces of the speckled eggs, for her who has plundered him of his young heart; then, the beech-tree with its smooth body, on which he cuts the initials of her name interlocked with his own; finally, the great hollow stump, by the path that leads up the valley to the log school-house, its dry bark peeled off, and the stately |