remarkable history to the public. Then followed his "Mexico," "Peru," and "Philip the Second,"-works that have earned for him the reputation of a profound historian on both sides of the Atlantic. Noble work for any man with two good eyes! Nobler work for a man with none! The story of Daniel Webster's perseverance in becoming the orator of his age is familiar to all. He told it thus: "I believe I made tolerable progress in most branches which I attended to while a member of the Exeter Academy, N. H., but there was one thing I could not do: I could not make a declamation. I could not speak before the school. The kind and excellent Buckminster sought especially to persuade me to perform the exercise of declamation like other boys, but I could not do it. Many a piece did I commit to memory and recite and rehearse in my own room over and over again, yet when the day came when the school collected to hear declamations, when my name was called and all eyes were turned to my seat, I could not raise myself from it. Sometimes the instructors frowned, sometimes they smiled. But I never could command resolution." It was months, and even years, before he triumphed over timidity and awkwardness. His perseverance manifested itself on other occasions. In his earlier school-days his teacher offered a jack-knife one Saturday, to the scholar who would commit the largest number of passages in the Bible, to recite on Monday morning. Daniel recited seventy-five passages, when the teacher inquired, "How many more have you committed?" "Several chapters more," he answered. He got the knife. At Exeter the principal punished him for pigeon-shooting, by requiring him to commit to memory one hundred lines in "Virgil." Knowing that The celebrated American painter Allston was approached by a friend one day, bearing a small painting. "A youth painted this," he said, exhibiting the sketch to Allston; "and I want to know whether you think he will make much of an artist." Allston carefully examined the production, and then confidently expressed this opinion: "He will not make an artist. I advise him to try some other pursuit." Allston's perseverance in overcoming obstacles and making himself a great painter, will appear when the reader is told that the work of art upon which he expressed so unfavourable an opinion was one of his own early productions, which he failed to recognize. But all such illustrations are tame in comparison with those we might adduce from the blind, deaf, and dumb, who have become renowned in science and art and letters. Rugendas, Paradisi, Saunderson, Davis, Huntley, Huber, Holman, and Laura Bridgman are wonderful examples. We have space for only a brief notice of the latter, the most remarkable case on record. Laura Bridgman possessed only the sense of touch, yet she was educated to study, work, and converse through that sense alone. She knew her teachers and schoolmates as intimately as her companions having all the five senses did. Dr. Howe said: "When Laura is walking through a passage-way, with her hands spread before her, she knows, instantly, every one she meets, and passes them with a sign of recognition." She had charge of her wardrobe, and displayed decided taste about her toilet. She became expert and ingenious with her needle, making ornamental and useful articles with even more skill than many of her sisters, who were endowed with eyes and ears. Her progress in the various branches of knowledge was rapid, and her scholarship high. In social life she was animated, bright, joyous, and genial, the sense of touch putting her into intimate and pleasant communication with the company about her. This was the work of education; but think of the patience and perseverance necessary on the part of teachers, to instruct such a pupil. Could there possibly be found a more discouraging subject upon which to expend human effort? "Impossible," every one would say, "to instruct a child to any extent, through the sense of touch alone." But perseverance accomplished the apparently superhuman task. What perseverance on the part of the girl, also, to master reading, spelling, geography, grammar, arithmetic, and to become a real companion, a skilful doer, an intelligent and noble woman, by the sense of touch alone! Ye who falter and complain before a difficult problem in mathematics, who say that you cannot excel in one of the mechanic I arts; who are content to be classed with the second-rate scholars and artisans of the world, and that, too, when all the five senses conspire to make you successful; stop here and learn a lesson of intense application, relentless toil, unflagging industry, irrepressible ambition, and invincible purpose, that mock your limpness and shame your fruitless lives! T IX. INDUSTRY. HE Marquis of Spinola said to Sir Horace Vere, "Pray, Sir Horace, of what did your brother die?" 'He died of nothing to do," answered Horace. "That is enough to kill anybody," responded the marquis. The incident contains much truth. We believe that overwork is possible. We know that underwork is common. The former shortens life, and so does the latter. We doubt if overwork is more inimical to health and longevity than underwork. Indeed, it is quite manifest that idleness kills more people than industry. The latter is one of God's conditions of physical strength and long life. Growth, physical, mental, and moral, is in industry, not in idleness. The latter enervates, paralyzes, dwarfs. Industry makes manhood: idleness never makes it. 66 'Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than labour wears, while the used key is always bright." A few years ago we met a wealthy friend on Congress-street, Boston, and, somewhat startled by his emaciated appearance and sickly countenance, we expressed much surprise. "I retired from business about a year ago," he said, "thinking it would be a fine thing to have nothing to do, but I have been the most wretched man in the world. I am on my way to Maine now to purchase a factory, for I shall die if I try |