1. IN Athens, when all learning centred there,
Men reared1 a column of surpassing height
In honor of Minerva,2 wise and fair,

And on the top, that dwindled3 to the sight,
A statue of the goddess was to stand,
That wisdom might obtain in all the land.

2. And he who, with the beauty in his heart,

Seeking in faultless work immortal youth,
Would mould this statue with the finest art,
Making the wintry marble glow with truth,
Should gain the prize. Two sculptors sought the
fame;

The prize they craved was an enduring name,

*

3. Alcamenes soon carved his image best;

But Phidias, beneath a dazzling thought
That like a bright sun in a cloudless west

Lit up his wide, great soul with pure love,
wrought

A statue, and its face of changeless stone

With calm, far-sighted wisdom towered and shone.

4. Then to be judged the labors were unveiled; But at the marble thought, that by degrees

Of hardship Phidias cut, the people railed.

"The lines are coarse; the form too large," said these;

"And he who sends this rough result of haste Sends scorn, and offers insult to our taste."

5. Alcamenes' praised work was lifted high

Upon the capital where it might stand; But there it seemed too small, and 'gainst the sky Had no proportion from the uplooking land; So it was lowered, and quickly put aside, And the scorned thought was mounted to be tried.

6. Surprise swept o'er the faces of the crowd,

And changed them as a sudden breeze may change A field of fickle grass, and long and loud

Their mingled shouts to see a sight so strange.
The statue stood completed in its place,
Each coarse line melted to a line of grace.

7. So bold, great actions, that are seen too near, Look rash and foolish to unthinking eyes; They need the past for distance to appear

In their true grandeur. Let us yet be wise, And not too soon our neighbor's deed malign, For what seems coarse is often good and fine.

1 REARED. Raised; elevated.

3 DWIN'DLED. Grew less; diminished,

? MI-NËR'VA. The goddess of wisdom, 4 QB-TAIN'. Be established; prevail.

the arts, and war.

CVIII. THE PILGRIM FATHERS.

WINTHROP.

1. THERE can be no true New England heart which does not throb to-day with something of unwonted1 exultation.2 There can be no true American heart, I think, which has not found itself swelling with a more fervent3 gratitude to God, and a more profound veneration for the Pilgrim Fathers, as this morning's sun has risen above the hill-tops, in an almost midsummer glory, and ushered in, ouce more, with such transcendent splendor, our consecrated1 jubilee.

2. When we reflect on the influence which has flowed, and is still flowing, in ever fresh and ceaseless streams, from yonder Rock, which, two centuries and a half ago, was struck, for the first time, by the foot of civilized, Christian man; when we reflect how mightily that influence has prevailed, and how widely it has pervaded5 the world, inspiring and aiding the settlement of Massachusetts, and through Massachusetts, of all New England, and, through New England, of so large a part of our whole wide-spread country, and thus, through the example of our country and its institutions, extending the principles of civil and religious freedom to the remotest regions of the earth, leaving no corner of Christendom, or even of Heathendom, unvisited or unrefreshed, we should be dead indeed to every emotion of gratitude to God or man, were we not to hail this anniversary as one of the grandest in the calendar of the ages.

3. We are here, my friends, to celebrate the Fifth Jubilee of what is now known emphatically, wherever

the history of New England, or the history of America, is read, as "The Landing." No other landing, temporary or permanent, upon our own or upon any other shore, can ever usurp its title, or ever supersede 7 or weaken its hold upon the world's remembrance and regard.

6

4. There have been other landings, I need hardly say, which have left a proud and shining mark on the historic page landings of discoverers; landings of conquerors; landings of kings or princes, called by right of restoration or revolution to take possession of time-honored thrones; landings of organized colonies, from large and well-appointed fleets, on conspicuous coasts, to occupy territories opened and prepared, in some degree, for human habitation.

5. Not such was the landing which we commemorate to-day. Not such the event which has rendered this shortest day of all the year so memorable forever in the annals of human freedom. It was the landing of a few weary and wave-worn men from a single ship, — nay, from a single shallop, — on a bleak and desolate shore, amid the storms and tempests of a well-nigh- arctic winter, with none to welcome, none even to witness it. I might, indeed, be almost pardoned for saying, that the sun itself stood still in the heavens to behold it! But there were, certainly, no other witnesses, save those witnesses to each other's constancy and courage who were themselves the actors in the scene, and that allseeing, omnipresent9 God, who guided and guarded all their steps.

6. Turn back with me to that epoch 10 of the winter solstice, just two hundred and fifty years ago, and let us spend at least a portion of this flying hour in attempting