WEST'S PICTURE OF THE INFANT SAMUEL.

BY REV. EPHRAIM PEABODY.

IN childhood's spring-ah! blessed spring!
(As flowers closed up at even,
Unfold in morning's earliest beam,)
The heart unfolds to heaven.
Ah! blessed child! that trustingly
Adores, and loves, and fears,
And to a Father's voice replies,
Speak, Lord! thy servant hears.

When youth shall come-ah! blessed youth!
If still the pure heart glows,

And in the world and word of God,
Its Maker's language knows;

If in the night and in the day,
Midst youthful joys or fears,

The trusting heart can answer still,
Speak, Lord! thy servant hears.

THE FATHER'S CHOICE.*

BY MRS. SARAH J. HALE.

Now fly as flies the rushing wind,
Urge, urge thy lagging steed!
The savage yell is fierce behind,
And life is on thy speed;

And from those dear ones make thy choice:
The group he wildly eyed,

When father!" burst from every voice,

And "child!" his heart replied.

There's one that now can share his toil,
And one he meant for fame,

And one that wears her mother's smile,
And one that bears her name.

And one will prattle on his knee,
Or slumber on his breast;
And one whose joys of infancy
Are still by smiles expressed.

They feel no fear while he is near;
He 'll shield them from the foe:
But oh! his ear must thrill to hear
Their shriekings, should he go.

In vain his quivering lips would speak,
No words his thoughts allow :
There's burning tears upon his cheek,
Death's marble on his brow.

*In the year 1697, a body of Indians attacked the town of Haverhill, Massachusetts, killed and carried into captivity forty inhabitants. A party of the Indians approached the house of an individual, who was abroad at his labor, but who, on their approach, hastened to the house, sent his children out, and ordered them to fly in a course opposite to that in which danger was approaching. He then mounted his horse, and determined to snatch up the child with which he was unwilling to part, when he should overtake the little flock. When he came up to them, about two hundred yards from his house, he was unable to make a choice, or to leave any one of the number. He therefore determined to take his lot with them, and defend them from their murderers, or die by their side. A body of the Indians pursued, and came up with him; and when at a short distance, fired on him and his little company. He returned the fire, and retreated alternately; still, however, keeping a resolute face to the enemy, and so effectually sheltered his charge, that he finally lodged them all safe in a distant house.

THE FATHER'S CHOICE.

And twice he smote his clenched hand,
Then bade his children fly!

And turned, and even that savage band
Cowered at his wrathful eye.

Swift as the lightning winged with death,
Flashed forth the quivering flame!
Their fiercest warrior bows beneath
The father's deadly aim.

Not the wild cries that rend the skies,
His heart or purpose move;
He saves his children, or he dies
The sacrifice of love.

Ambition goads the conqueror on,
Hate points the murderer's brand,
But love and duty, these alone
Can nerve the good man's hand.

The hero may resign the field,
The coward murderer flee;
He cannot fear, he will not yield,

That strikes, sweet love, for thee.

They come, they come! he heeds no cry,
Save the soft childlike wail,

"O father, save!" " My children, fly!"
Were mingled on the gale.

And firmer still he drew his breath,
And sterner flashed his eye,
As fast he hurls his leaden death,
Still shouting, "Children, fly!"

No shadow on his brow appeared,
Nor tremor shook his frame,
Save when at intervals he heard
Some trembler lisp his name.

In vain the foe, those fiends unchained,
Like famished tigers chafe !

The sheltering roof is neared, is gained,
All, all the dear ones safe!

81

HOW THEY USED TO SPELL.

FROM THE DISTRICT SCHOOL AS IT WAS.'

BY REV. WARREN BURTON.

THE most extraordinary spelling and indeed reading machine in our school was a boy whom I shall call Memorus Wordwell. He was mighty and wonderful in the acquisition and remembrance of words; of signs without the ideas signified. The alphabet he acquired at home before he was two years old. What exultation of parents, what exclamation from admiring visiters. "There was never any thing like it!" He had almost accomplished his Abs before he was thought old enough for school. At an earlier age than usual however he was sent, and then he went from Ache to Abomination in half the summers and winters it took the

rest of us to go over the same space. Astonishing how quickly he mastered column after column, section after section of obstinate orthographies! Those martial terms I have just used, together with our hero's celerity, put me in mind of Cæsar. So I will quote him. Memorus might have said in respect to the hosts of the spelling-book, "I came, I saw, I conquered." He generally stood at the head of a class, each one of whom was two years his elder. Poor creatures! they studied hard some of them, but it did no good; Memorus Wordwell was born to be above them, as some men are said to have been "born to command." At the public examination of his first winter, the people of the district and even the minister thought it marvellous that such monstrous great words should be mastered by "such a leetle mite of a boy!" Memorus was mighty also in saying those after

HOW THEY USED TO SPELL.

83

spelling matters, the Key, the Abbreviations, the Punctuation, &c. These things were deemed of great account to be laid up in remembrance, although they were all very imperfectly understood, and some of them not understood at all.

Punctuation! how many hours, days, and even weeks have I tugged away to lift, as it were, to roll up into the store-house of my memory, the many long, heavy sentences comprehended under this title ! Only survey, (we use this word when speaking of considerable space and bulk,) only survey the first sentence, a transcript of which I will endeavor to locate in these narrow bounds. I would have my readers of the rising generation know what mighty labors. we little creatures of five, six and seven years old were set to perform.

"Punctuation is the art of pointing, or of dividing a discourse into periods by points, expressing the pauses to be made in the reading thereof, and regulating the cadence or elevation of the voice."

There, I have labored weeks on that; for I always had that lamentable defect of mind not to be able to commit to

memory what I did not understand. My teachers never aided me with the least explanation of the above-copied sentence, nor of other reading of a similar character, which was likewise to be committed to memory. But this and all was nothing, as it were, to Memorus Wordwell. He was a very Hercules in this wilderness of words.

Master Wordwell was a remarkable reader too. He could rattle off a word as extensive as the name of a Russian noble, when he was but five years old, as easily as the schoolmaster himself. "He can read in the hardest chapters of the Testament as fast ag'in as I can," said his mother. "I never did see nothin' beat it," exclaimed his father; "he speaks up as loud as a minister.” But I have said enough about this prodigy. I have said thus much because that although he was thought so surpassingly bright, he was the most decided ninny in the school. The fact is, he did not know