tance back. Then, there are the Marriages;-only one as yet; and your mother's name looks oddly to you: it is hard to think of her as any one else than your doting parent. 8. Last of all came the Deaths;-only one. Poor Charlie! How it looks!"Died, 12 September, 18-, Charles Henry, aged four years." You know just how it looks. You have turned to it often; there you seem to be joined to him, though only by the turning of a leaf. 9. And over your thoughts, as you look at that page of the Record, there sometimes wanders a vague, shadowy fear, which will come,—that your own name may soon be there. You try to drop the notion, as if it were not fairly your own; you affect to slight it, as you would slight a boy who presumed on your acquaintance, but whom you have no desire to know. 10. Yet your mother-how strange it is! has no fears of such dark fancies. Even now, as you stand beside her, and as the twilight deepens in the room, her low, silvery voice is stealing upon your ear, telling you that she can not be long with you; - that the time is coming, when you must be guided by your own judgment, and struggle with the world unaided by the friends of your boyhood. 11. There is a little pride, and a great deal more of anxiety, in your thoughts now, as you look steadfastly into the home-blaze, while those delicate fingers, so tender of your happiness, play with the locks upon your brow. To struggle with the world,—that is a proud thing; to struggle alone,— there lies the doubt! Then crowds in swift upon the calm of boyhood the first anxious thought of youth. 12. The hands of the old clock upon the mantel, that ticked off the hours when Charlie sighed, and when Charlie died, draw on toward midnight. The shadows that the fire-flame makes, grow dimmer and dimmer. And thus it is, that Home,-boy-home, passes away forever,—like the swaying of a pendulum,—like the fading of a shadow on the floor. DEFINITIONS.-1. In-ex'or-a-ble, not to be changed. 4. Wont'-ed, accustomed. Ad-mo-ni'tion (pro. ad-mo-nish'un), counseling against fault or error. 6. Pŏn'-der-oŭs, very heavy. Quaint (pro. kwānt), odd and antique. 7. In-erěd'-i-ble, impossible to be believed. Dōt'ing, loving to excess. 9. Vague (pro. vāg), indefinite. Pre-sumed', pushed upon or intruded in an impudent manner. XCVIII. THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS. In 1799, he entered the Soon after the publicasent to Bermuda in an Thomas Moore (b. 1779, d. 1852) was born in Dublin, Ireland, and he was educated at Trinity College in that city. Middle Temple, London, as a student of law. tion of his first poetical productions, he was official capacity. He subsequently visited the United States. Moore's most famous works are: "Lalla Rookh," an Oriental romance, 1817; "The Loves of the Angels," 1823; and "Irish Melodies," 1834; a "Life of Lord Byron," and "The Epicurean, an Eastern tale." "Moore's excellencies," says Dr. Angus, "consist in the gracefulness of his thoughts, the wit and fancy of his allusions and imagery, and the music and refinement of his versification." 1. OFT in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond memory brings the light Of other days around me: The smiles, the tears. Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken; Now dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken! Thus in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Sad memory brings the light Of other days around me. 2. When I remember all The friends so linked together Like leaves in wintry weather, Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, And all but he departed. Thus in the stilly night Ere slumber's claim has bound me, Sad memory brings the light Of other days around me. XCIX. A CHASE IN THE ENGLISH CHANNEL. James Fenimore Cooper (b. 1789, d. 1851). This celebrated American novelist was born in Burlington, N. J. His father removed to the state of New York about 1790, and founded Cooperstown, on Otsego Lake. He studied three years at Yale, and then entered the navy as a common sailor. He became a midshipman in 1806, and was afterwards promoted to the rank of lieutenant; but he left the service in 1811. His first novel, "Precaution," was published in 1819; his best work, "The Spy," a tale of the Revolutionary War, in 1821. The success of "The Spy" was almost unprecedented, and its author at once took rank among the most popular writers of the day. "The Pilot" and "The Red Rover" are considered his best sea novels. "The Pioneers," "The Last of the Mohicans," "The Prairie," "The Pathfinder," and "The Deerslayer," are among the best of his tales of frontier life. The best of his novels have been translated into nearly all of the European languages, and into some of those of Asia. "The creations of his genius," says Bryant, "shall survive through centuries to come, and only perish with our language." The following selection is from "The Pilot." 1. THE ship which the American frigate had now to oppose, was a vessel of near her own size and equipage; and when Griffith looked at her again, he perceived that she had made her preparations to assert her equality in manful fight. 2. Her sails had been gradually reduced to the usual quantity, and, by certain movements on her decks, the lieutenant and his constant attendant, the Pilot, well understood that she only wanted to lessen the distance a few hundred yards to begin the action. "Now spread every thing," whispered the stranger. 3. Griffith applied the trumpet to his mouth, and shouted, in a voice that was carried even to his enemy, "Let fallout with your booms-sheet home-hoist away of every thing!" 4. The inspiring cry was answered by a universal bustle. Fifty men flew out on the dizzy heights of the different spars, while broad sheets of canvas rose as suddenly along the masts, as if some mighty bird were spreading its wings. The Englishman instantly perceived his mistake, and he answered the artifice by a roar of artillery. Griffith watched the effects of the broadside with an absorbing interest as the shot whistled above his head; but when he perceived his masts untouched, and the few unimportant ropes only that were cut, he replied to the uproar with a burst of pleasure. 5. A few men were, however, seen clinging with wild frenzy to the cordage, dropping from rope to rope, like wounded birds fluttering through a tree, until they fell heavily into the ocean, the sullen ship sweeping by them in a cold indifference. At the next instant, the spars and masts of their enemy exhibited a display of men similar to their own, when Griffith again placed the trumpet to his mouth, and shouted aloud, "Give it to them; drive them from their yards, boys; scatter them with your grape; unreeve their rigging!" 6. The crew of the American wanted but little encouragement to enter on this experiment with hearty` good will, and the close of his cheering words was uttered amid the deafening roar of his own cannon. The Pilot had, however, mistaken the skill and readiness of their foe; for, notwithstanding the disadvantageous circumstances under which the Englishman increased his sail, the duty was steadily and dexterously performed. 7. The two ships were now running rapidly on parallel lines, hurling at each other their instruments of destruction with furious industry, and with severe and certain loss to both, though with no manifest advantage in favor of either. Both Griffith and the Pilot witnessed, with deep concern, this unexpected defeat of their hopes; for they could not conceal from themselves that each moment lessened their velocity through the water, as the shot of the enemy stripped the canvas from the yards, or dashed aside the lighter spars in their terrible progress. 8. "We find our equal here," said Griffith to the stranger. "The ninety is heaving up again like a mountain; and if we continue to shorten sail at this rate, she will soon be down upon us!" "You say true, sir," returned the Pilot, musing, "the man shows judgment as well as spirit; but—” 9. He was interrupted by Merry, who rushed from the forward part of the vessel, his whole face betokening the eagerness of his spirit and the importance of his intelli gence. "The breakers!" he cried, when nigh enough to be heard amid the din; "we are running dead on a ripple, and the sea is white not two hundred yards ahead." 10. The Pilot jumped on a gun, and, bending to catch a glimpse through the smoke, he shouted, in those clear, piercing tones, that could be even heard among the roaring of the cannon, 66 Port, port your helm! we are on the Devil's Grip! Pass up the trumpet, sir; port your helm, fellow; give it to them, boys-give it to the proud English dogs!" 11. Griffith unhesitatingly relinquished the symbol of his |