of Columbus's rank, in the haughty and ceremonious court of Castile.

9. It was, indeed, the proudest moment in the life of Columbus. He had fully established the truth of his long-contested theory, in the face of argument, sophistry, sneer, scepticism, and contempt. He had achieved this not by chance, but by calculation, supported through the most adverse circumstances by consummate conduct. The honors paid him, which had hitherto been reserved only for rank, or fortune, or military success, purchased by the blood and tears of thousands, were, in his case, a homage to intellectual power successfully exerted in behalf of the noblest interests of humanity.

10. After a brief interval, the sovereigns requested of Columbus a recital of his adventures. His manner was sedate and dignified, but warmed by the glow of natural enthusiasm. He enumerated the several islands he had visited, expatiated on the temperate character of the climate, and the capacity of the soil for every variety of production, appealing to the samples imported by him as evidence of their natural productiveness. He dwelt more at large on the precious metals to be found in these islands, which he inferred less from the specimens actually obtained than from the uniform testimony of the natives to their abundance in the unexplored regions of the interior.

11. Lastly, he pointed out the wide scope afforded to Christian zeal in the illumination of a race of men whose minds, far from being wedded to any system of idolatry, were prepared, by their extreme simplicity, for the reception of pure and uncorrupted doctrine. The last consideration touched Isabella's heart most sensibly; and the whole audience, kindled with various emotions by the speaker's eloquence, filled up the perspective with the gorgeous coloring of their own fancies, as ambition, or avarice, or devotional feeling predominated in their

bosoms. When Columbus ceased, the king and queen, together with all present, prostrated themselves on their knees in grateful thanksgivings, while the solemn strains of the Te Deum were poured forth by the choir of the royal chapel, as in commemoration of some glorious victory.-W. H. Prescott.

On the old oak-table;

"My wife and I have tried
The experiment; we tied

A good stout bit of cable

5. "To the fence just over there,
And the rocker of this chair;
And we couldn't do it,

Though we screamed ourselves as hoarse
As tree-toads; but of course

Not one word went through it!

6. "Don't talk to me, I pray,
Of fresh news every day

Through sunken cables:
Sea-yarns are always tough,
And I have heard enough

Of such old fables!"

Josephine Pollard.

LESSON 116.

HOW THE GATES CAME AJAR.

I WAS whispered, one morning, in Heaven

TW

How the little child-angel May,

In the shade of the great white portal,

Sat sorrowing night and day.

How she said to the stately warden

Him of the key and bar — “O angel, sweet angel! I pray you, Set the beautiful gates ajar,

Only a little I pray you,

Set the beautiful gates ajar!

2. I can hear my mother weeping;
She is lonely; she cannot see
A glimmer of light in the darkness
Where the gates shut after me.
Oh! turn me the key, sweet angel,
The splendor will shine so far!"
But the warden answered: "I dare not
Set the beautiful gates ajar."
Spoke low and answered: "I dare not
Set the beautiful gates ajar!"

3. Then up rose Mary the Blessed,
Sweet Mary, Mother of Christ :
Her hand on the hand of the angel
She laid, and her touch sufficed.
Turned was the key in the portal,
Fell ringing the golden bar;
And lo! in the little child's fingers
Stood the beautiful gates ajar!
In the little child-angel's fingers
Stood the beautiful gates ajar!

4. "And this key for no further using,
To my blessed Son shall be given,"
Said Mary, Mother of Jesus-
Tenderest heart in Heaven.
Now, never a sad-eyed mother

But may catch the glory afar;
Since safe in the Lord Christ's bosom
Are the keys of the gates ajar:
Close hid in the dear Christ's bosom,
And the gates forever ajar!

Helen L. Bostwick.

FAR

LESSON 117.

FALL OF CARDINAL WOLSEY.

Wolsey.

AREWELL, a long farewell to all my greatness! This is the state of man; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope; to-morrow, blossoms, And bears his blushing honors thick upon him, The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,

And when he thinks, good, easy man, full surely
His greatness is a ripening-nips his root,

And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured,
Like little, wanton boys, that swim on bladders,
These many summers, in a sea of glory,

But far beyond my depth; my high-blown pride
At length broke under me; and now has left me,
Weary, and old with service, to the mercy
Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye;
I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched
Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favors!
There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That aspect sweet of princes, and their ruin,
More pangs and fears, than wars or women have,
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.

Enter CROMWELL, amazedly.

Why, how now, Cromwell?

Crom. I have no power to speak, sir.

Wol. What! amazed

At my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder,

A great man should decline? Nay, if you weep, I am fallen indeed.

Crom. How does your grace?