have not only been the conceptions of genius, but the prod ucts of toil. The masterpieces of antiquity, as well in literature as in art, are known to have received their extreme finish from an almost incredible continuance of labor upon them. I do not remember a book in all the departments of learning, nor a scrap in literature, nor a work in all the schools of art, from which its author has derived a permanent renown, that is not known to have been long and patiently elaborated.

Genius needs industry, as much as industry needs genius. If only Milton's imagination could have conceived his visions, his consummate industry only could have carved the immortal lines which enshrine them. If only Newton's mind could reach out to the secrets of Nature, even his could only do it by the homeliest toil. The works of Bacon are not midsummer-night dreams, but, like coral islands, they have risen from the depths of truth, and formed their broad surfaces above the ocean by the minutest accretions of persevering labor.

IDEALITY; a talent for poetry and works of the imagination. SPECIES; a class, a sort. THESPIAN; relating to tragedy, or tragic acting. COTERIES; clubs, societies. RECONDITE; hidden, profound, abstruse

Dr. Matter scoth

DOUGLAS AND MARMION.

ADVANCED, Sound nst. ARMS; sound rmz. COLD; sound ld. RECEIVE; rë not . FIRST; ferst; er as in her; sound rst. HORSE; souna

the r.

NOT far advanced was morning day,
When Marmion did his troop array,
To Surrey's camp to ride;
He had safe-conduct for his band,
Beneath the royal seal and hand,
And Douglas gave a guide.

The ancient earl, with stately grace,
Would Clara on her palfrey place,
And whispered in an under tone,

"Let the hawk stoop; his prey is flown."
The train from out the castle drew;
But Marmion stopped to bid adieu :—
"Though something I might plain," he said,
"Of cold respect to stranger guest,
Sent hither by your king's behest,

While in Tantallon's towers I staid,
Part we in friendship from your land,
And, noble earl, receive my hand."
But Douglas round him drew his cloak,
Folded his arms, and thus he spoke :
"My manors, halls, and bowers, shall still
Be open, at my sovereign's will,
To each one whom he lists, howe'er
Unmeet to be the owner's peer:
My castles are my king's alone,
From turret to foundation stone:
The hand of Douglas is his own,
And never shall in friendly grasp
The hand of such as Marmion clasp."

Burned Marmign's swarthy cheek like fire,
And shook his very frame for ire,

And, "This to me!" he said;
"An 'twere not for thy hoary beard,
Such hand as Marmion's had not spared
To cleave the Douglas' head!
And, first, I tell thee, haughty peer,
He, who does England's message here,
Although the meanest in her state,
May well, proud Angus, be thy mate:

And, Douglas, more I tell thee here,
Even in thy pitch of pride,
Here in thy hold, thy vassals near,
I tell thee, thou'rt defied!
And if thou saidst, I am not peer
To any lord in Scotland here,
Lowland or Highland, far or near,

Lord Angus, thou hast lied!"
On the earl's cheek the flush of rage
O'ercame the ashen hue of age:

Fierce he broke forth: "And dar'st thou then

To beard the lion in his den,

The Douglas in his hall?

And hop'st thou hence unscathed to go!
No, by Saint Bryde of Bothwell, no!
Up drawbridge, grooms - what, warder no!
Let the portcullis fall."

Lord Marmion turned, well was his need,-
And dashed the rowels in his steed;
Like arrow through the archway sprung,
The ponderous grate behind him rung;
Το pass there was such scanty room,
The bars, descending, razed his plume

The steed along the drawbridge flies,
Just as it trembled on the rise;
Not lighter does the swallow skim
Along the smooth lake's level brim :

And when Lord Marmion reached his band,

He halts, and turns with clinchéd hand,

And shout of loud defiance pours,

And shook his gauntlet at the towers.

"Horse! horse!" the Douglas cried, "and chase!" But soon he reigned his fury's pace :

'A royal messenger he came,
Though most unworthy of the name.
Saint Mary mend my fiery mood!
. Old age ne'er cools the Douglas blood.
Bold can he speak, and fairly ride :
I warrant him a warrior tried.”
With this his mandate he recalls,

And slowly seeks his castle halls.

SCOTT

PLAIN; poetic contraction for complain. BEHEST; command, precept, nandate. MANORS; lands belonging to a lord or nobleman. SWARTHY; of a dark hue, or dusky complexion, tawny. VASSAL; a tenant, subject, dependant, one who holds land of a superior and vows fidelity and homage to him. PORTCULLIS; an assemblage of timbers joined across one another, like those of a harrow, and each pointed with iron, hung over the gateway of a fortified town or castle, to be let down in case of 'surprise, to prevent the entrance of an enemy.

Dear Swift

THE SPIDER AND THE BEE.

WINDOW. ow, like long o, not ur, nor uh. MODERN; er as in her; sound rn. SEVERAL; er as in her; make three syllables. STORMED; sound rmd. BURST; Sound rst. GATHERING; ă, not ě; er as in her; give n its ringing sound.

UPON the highest corner of a large window there dwelt a certain spider, swollen up to the first magnitude by the de struction of infinite numbers of flies, whose spoils lay scattered before the gates of his palace, like human bones before the cave of some giant. The avenues to his castle were guarded with turnpikes and palisadoes, all after the modern way of fortification. After you had passed several courts, you came to the centre, wherein you might behold the constable himself in his own lodgings, which had windows fronting each avenue, and ports from which to sally out, upon all occasions, for prey or defence.

In this mansion he had for some time dwelt in peace and plenty, without danger to his person by swallows from above, or to his palace by brooms from below; when it was the pleasure of fortune to conduct thither a wandering bee, whose curiosity had discovered a broken pane of glass, and in he went; where, expatiating a while, he at last happened to alight upon one of the outward walls of the spider's citadel, which, yielding to the unequal weight, sunk down to the very foundation. Thrice he endeavored to force his passage, and thrice the centre shook.

The spider within, feeling the terrible convulsion, supposed at first that Nature was approaching to her final dissolution. However, he at length valiantly resolved to issue forth and meet his fate. Meanwhile the bee had extricated himself from his toils, and, posted securely at some distance, was employed in cleansing his wings, and disengaging them from the rugged remnants of the cobweb.

By this time, the spider had adventured out, when, behold. ing the chasm, the ruins and dilapidations of his fortress he was very nearly at his wits' end; he stormed like a mad man, and swelled till he was ready to burst. At length casting his eye upon the bee, and wisely gathering cause from events, (for they knew each other by sight,) "What' is it you, you impudent fellow," said he, " is it you that have made this litter here? Could you not look before you ? Do you think I have nothing else to do but to mend and repair after you?"

"Good words, friend," said the bee, (having now pruned himself, and being disposed to be droll.) "I'll give you my hand and word to come near your kennel no more. I was never in such a confounded pickle since I was born."

"Sirrah,” replied the spider, "if it were not for breaking an old custom in our family, never to stir abroad against an enemy, I should come and teach you better manners." "I pray have patience," said the bee," or you'll spend