The Normal Fifth Reader

a young hand dropped in its little wreath; many a stifled sob was heard. Some - and they were not a few - knelt down. All were sincere and truthful in their sorrow. The service done, the mourners stood apart, and the villagers closed round to look into the grave before the stone should be replaced.

17. One called to mind how he had seen her sitting on that very spot, and how her book had fallen on her lap, and she was gazing with a pensive face upon the sky. Another told how he had wondered much that one so delicate as she should be so bold; how she had never feared to enter the church alone at night, but had loved to linger there when all was quiet, and even to climb the tower-stair with no more light than that of the moon-rays stealing through the loopholes in the thick old walls.

18. A whisper went about among the oldest there that she had seen and talked with angels; and, when they called to mind how she had looked and spoken, and her early death, some thought it might be so indeed. Thus coming to the grave in little knots, and glancing down, and giving place to others, and falling off in whispering groups of three or four, the church was cleared in time of all but the sexton and the mourning friends.

19. Then, when the dusk of evening had come on, and not a sound disturbed the sacred stillness of the place, when the bright moon poured in her light on tomb and monument, on pillar, wall, and arch, and most of all, it seemed to them, upon her quiet grave-in that calm time when all outward things and inward thoughts teem with assurances of immortality, and worldly hopes and fears are humbled in the dust before them, then, with tranquil and submissive hearts, they turned away, and left the child with God.

20. Oh! it is hard to take to heart the lesson that such deaths will teach: but let no man reject it; for it is one that all must learn. When death strikes down the inno

cent and young, for every fragile form from which he lets the panting spirit free a hundred virtues rise, in shapes of mercy, charity, and love, to walk the world and bless it with their light. Of every tear that sorrowing mortals shed on such green graves some good is born, some gentler nature comes. In the Destroyer's steps there spring up bright creations that defy his power; and his dark path becomes a way of light to heaven. - Charles Dickens.

THOUGH

LESSON 101.

DISCRETION AND CUNNING.

HOUGH a man has all other perfections, and wants discretion, he will be of no great consequence in the world; but, if he has this single talent in perfection, and but a common share of others, he may do what he pleases in his particular situation of life. At the same time that I think discretion the most useful talent a man can be master of, I look upon cunning to be the accomplishment of little, mean, ungenerous minds.

2. Discretion points out the noblest ends to us, and pursues the most proper and laudable methods of attaining them. Cunning has only private, selfish aims, and sticks at nothing which may make them succeed. Discretion has large and extended views, and, like a wellformed eye, commands a whole horizon. Cunning is a kind of short-sightedness, which discovers the minutest objects which are near at hand, but is not able to discern things at a distance.

3. Discretion, the more it is discovered, gives a greater authority to the person who possesses it. Cunning, when it is once detected, loses its force, and makes a man incapable of bringing about even those events which he might have done, had he passed only for a plain man.

Discretion is the perfection of reason, and a guide to us in all the duties of life; cunning is a kind of instinct that looks out after our immediate interests and welfare.. 4. Discretion is only found in men of strong sense and good understandings; cunning is often to be met with in brutes themselves, and in persons who are the fewest removes from them. In short, cunning is only the mimic of discretion, and may pass upon weak men, in the same manner as vivacity is often mistaken for wit, and gravity for wisdom.-Joseph Addison.

LESSON 102.

BINGEN ON THE RHINE.

SOLDIER of the Legion lay dying in Algiers,

There was lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears;

But a comrade stood beside him, while his life-blood ebbed away,

And bent, with pitying glances, to hear what he might

say:

The dying soldier faltered, and he took that comrade's

hand,

And he said, "I never more shall see my own, my native

land:

Take a message, and a token, to some distant friends of

mine,

For I was born at Bingen,- at Bingen on the Rhine.

"Tell my brothers and companions, when they meet and crowd around

To hear my mournful story in the pleasant vineyard

ground,

That we fought the battle bravely, and when the day was

done,

Full many a corpse lay ghastly pale, beneath the setting

sun.

And 'mid the dead and dying were some grown old in

wars,

The death-wound on their gallant breasts, the last of

many scars;

And some were young, and suddenly beheld life's morn

decline,―

And one had come from Bingen,— fair Bingen on the Rhine.

"Tell my mother, that her other son shall comfort her

old age;

For I was still a truant bird, that thought his home a

cage.

For my father was a soldier, and even as a child

My heart leaped forth to hear him tell of struggles fierce

and wild;

And when he died, and left us to divide his scanty hoard, I let them take whate'er they would, but kept my

father's sword;

And with boyish love I hung it where the bright light used to shine,

On the cottage wall at Bingen, - calm Bingen on the Rhine.

"Tell my sister not to weep for me, and sob with droop

ing head,

When the troops come marching home again, with glad and gallant tread;

But to look upon them proudly, with a calm and stead

fast eye,

For her brother was a soldier, too, and not afraid to die :

Discretion is the perfection of reason, and a guide to us in all the duties of life; cunning is a kind of instinct that looks out after our immediate interests and welfare..

4. Discretion is only found in men of strong sense and good understandings; cunning is often to be met with in brutes themselves, and in persons who are the fewest removes from them. In short, cunning is only the mimic of discretion, and may pass upon weak men, in the same manner as vivacity is often mistaken for wit, and gravity for wisdom.-Joseph Addison.