TiiE NATIONAL READER A SELECTION OF EXERCISES READING AND SPEAKING, TO FILL THE SAME PLACE SCHOOLS OF THE UNITED STATES, THAT IS HELD IN THOSE OF GREAT BRITAIN BY THE COMPILATIONS OF MURRAY, SCOTT, ENFIELD, MYLIUS, THOMPSON, EWING, AND OTHERS. BY JOHN PIERPONTj COMPILER OF THE AMErVcAN FIRST CLASS BOOK. i^dlJtoll rUBLISHED BY HILLIARD, GRx\Y, LITTLE, AND VVILKINS, AND RICHARDSON AND LORD, 1827. VEiizd /SZ7 DISTRICT OP MASSACHUSETTS, TO WIT: District Clerk's Office. Be it remembered, That on the eleventh day of June, A. D. 1827, in the fifty-first year of the Independence of the United States of America, John Pierfont, of the said District, has deposited in this office the title of a book, the right whereof he cjairas as proprietor, in the words following, to wit .- " The National Reader ; a Selection of Exercises in Reading and Speaking, designed to fill the same Place in the Schools of the United States, that is held in those of Great Britain by the Compilations of Murray, Scott, Enfield, Mylius, Thompson, Ewing, and others. By John Pierpont, Compiler of the American First Class Book." In conformity to the act of the Congress of the United States, entitled, " An Act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned :" and also to an act, entitled, " An Act supplementary to an act, entitled. An Act for the encour- agement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned ; and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving and etching historical and other prints." - JOHN W. DAVIS, Clerk of the District of Massachusetts. Exchange Bi-own University Library I PREFACE. The favour shown by the public to the " American First Class Book" has encouraged me to proceed to the execution of a purpose, that I formed while preparing that book for the press — the compilation of a Reader, for the Common Schools of the United States, which should be, — what no school book compiled in Great Britain is. — in some degree at least, American. It cannot, indeed, be urged as an objection to a British school book, that it is not adapted to American schools ; that it consists exclusively of the productions of British authors ; that it abounds in delineations of British manners, — in descriptions of British scenery, — in eulogies of British heroes and statesmen, — in selections from British history, — and in pieces, of which it is the direct aim to impress the mind of the reader with a deep sense of the excellence of British institutions, and of the power and glory of the British empire. A book of this character is moving in its proper sphere, and accom- plishing the purpose of its author, when it is passing from hand to hand, among the children of Great Britain, introducing them to an acquaintance with their native land, and with those who have adorned it by their genius or their virtues, and thus exciting within them a love of their country, and a resolution to become its ornaments in their turn. That effect produced by the book, its author has gained his object, and has established his character, and secured his reward, as a benefactor of his country in one of its most valuable interests : and it derogates nothing from his merit or fame, to say that his book is not well adapted to those for whose use he did not intend it j for this is but saying that he has not done what he has not attempted to do. It is no disparagement to English laws, to say that they will not do for us. They were not made for us. Nor is it a disparagement to English school books, to say that they are not adapted to American schools. There is not one, among them all, that was designed for American schools. To the compiler of an American School Reader, it would, no doubt, be flattering, to know that his book had found such favour in England, as to be introduced extensively into common schools there. But, though this might be a little flattering to him, it would, probably, seem to him not a little strange, that they had not books of their own in England, better fitted to the schools, under a monarchical form of government, than the compilation of a republican foreigner, which was never intended for them. And would it be to the honour of English literature, or of those men in England, who feel an interest in the prosperity of the state, — and, consequently, an interest in seeing the young so educated, that they may worthily filf its places of honour and trust, — to admit, by the general introduction of foreign compilations into their schools, that there is no man in England able to make a good school book, and, at the same time, willing to submit to the labour of making one ? This country has political institutions of its own j— institutions which the men of each successive generation must uphold. But this they cannot do, unless they are early made to understand and value them. It has a historv iv PREFACE. of its own, of which it need not be ashamed ; — fathers, and heroes, and sages, of its own, whose deeds and praises are worthy of being " said or eung" by even the ''mighty masters of the lay," — and with whose deeds and praises, by being made familiar in our childhood, we shall be not the less qualified to act well our part, as citizens of a republic. Our country, both physically and morally, has a character of its own. Should not something of that character be learned by its children while at school ? Its mountains, and prairies, and lakes, and rivers, and cataracts, — its shores and hill-tops, that Avere early made sacred by the dangers, and sacrifices, and deaths, of the devotit and the daring — it does seem as if these were worthy of being held up, as objects of interest, to the young eyes that, from year to year, are opening upon them, and worthy of being linked, with all their sacred associa- tions, to the young affections, which, sooner or later, must be bound to them, or they must eease to be — what they now are — the inheritance and abode of a free people. It has been my object to make this book — what it is called — a National Reader. By this I do not mean that it consists, entirely, of American productions, or that the subjects of the different lessons are exclusively American. I do not understand that a national spirit is an exchtsive s^pirit. The language of pure moral sentiment, the out-pourings of a poet- ic al spirit, the lessons of genuine patriotism, and of a sublime and catho- lic religion, — let them have proceeded from what source they may, — not a few pieces, especially, which have long held a place in English compila- tions, — I have adopted freely into this collection, and believe that I have enriched it by them. I trust that there will be found in it not a line or a thought, that shall offend the most scrupulous delicacy, or that shall give any parent occasion to tremble for the morals of either a son or a daughter ; and i hope that a regard for my own interest, if no higher coiisideration, may have prevented my being unmindful of that section of the late laiu of this cominoTiivealih, which provides, that no conamittee of a public school shall ever "direct any school books to be purchased, or used in any of the schools imder their superintendence, which are calculated to favour any particular religious sect or tenet." In regard to rules or directions for reading, the same considerations which prevented my filling up any part of the American First Class Book with them, have induced me to introduce none of them into this collection of exercises. Three things only are required to make a good reader. He must read so that what he reads shall, in the first place, be heard ; in the i»econd, that it shall be understood; and, in the third, that it shall be felt. If a boy has voice, and intelligence, and taste enough to do all this, then, under the personal guidance and discipline of a teacher who can read well, he will learn to read well ; but if he has not, he may study rules, and pore over the doctrine of cadences and infiections; till " chaos come again," — he v.'ill never be a good reader. In the humble hope that this compilation may contribute something to the accomplishing of the young, in this country, in the art of reading and speaking well,— something to the improvement of their taste, the cultivation of their moral sense and religious affections, and, thus, something to their preparation for an honourable discharge of their duties in this life, and for "' glory, honour, and immortality," in the life that is to come,— I submit it to the disposal of the public, and ask for it only the favour of which it may be thought worthy. Boston, June, 1827. ' I TABLE OF CONTENTS. LESSONS IN PROSE. Ths names of American authors are in small capitals. Lesson. Page- 1. Discovery of America, abridged from Robertson. 9 2. A good Scholar May. 14 3. Tlie good Schoolmaster Fuller. 16 4. Attention and Industry rewarded Berquin. 18 5. On Lying Chesterfield. 20 6. Portrait of a Patriarch, selected from Job, by Addison. 21 7. An uncharitable Spirit rebuked A Rabbinical Tale. 22 11. Religious Contemplation of the Works of God Moodie. 26 12. Criminality of Intemperance H- Ware, Jr. 27 13. The Worm Missourian. 29 14. Debt and Credit Trenton Emporium. 31 15. The Indians of North America. . .Cincinnati Nat. Republican. 33 16. Story and Speech of Logan Jefferson. 35 20. Grandeur and Interest of American Antiquities T. Flint. 43 22. The American Indian, as he was, and as he is .C. Sprague. 47 23. The Grave a Place of Rest Mackenzie. 49 28. Obedience to the Commands of God rewarded Moodie. 56 29. Promises of Religion to the Young Alison. 57 30. On the Swiftness of Time Johnson. 68 33. Obidah,— the Journey of a Day Id. 62 34. The Vision of Mirza Addison. 66 37. The Widov/ and her Son C. Edwards. 72 38. The Little Man in Black W. Irving. 75 39. The same, concluded Ibid. 78 40. Danger of being a good Singer London Literary Chronicle. 82 45. The Voice of the Seasons Alison. 90 46. Anecdote of Richard Jackson London Quarterly Revieiv. 91 47. Description of Niagara Falls Howison. 92 49. Cataract of Terni Anonymous. 98 50. A West Indian Landscape Malte-Brun. 101 51. Devotional Influences of Natural Scenery .. Bicc&wood's Ed. Mag. 102 52. Passage of the Shenandoah through the Blue Ridge. . .Jefferson. 105 68. The Funeral of MariaL r^-".' • •) Mackenzie. Ill 59. A Leaf from " The Life of a Looking-Glaes" Miss J. Taylor. 113 64. Industry necessary to Genius V. Knox. 121 65. Story of Matilda. Goldsmith. 123 67, Early Recollections Netv Monthly Magazine. 126 72. Cruelty to Animals reproved Mavor. 135 73. Excessive Severity in Punishments censured Goldsmith. 137 77. Religion the Basis of Society .Channing, 142 78. Punishment of a Liar .Bible, 143 1* , vi CONTENTS. Lesson. Page. 79. Claims of the Jews , Noel. 145 80. Happiness of Devotional Habits and Feelings Wellbeloved. 147 86. Folly of deferring Religious Duties Ibid. 136 87. Religion the best Preparation for Duty in Life . . .^ Norton. 158 88. The Young of every Rank entitled to Education. . .Greenwood. 160 93. The. Bells of St. Mary's, Limerick London Literary Gazette. 168 94. Jerusalem and the surrounding Country Letters from the East, Banks. 171 95. The same, concluded iftid. 175 98. Mount Sinai Ibid. 180 iOO. Religious Education necessary Greenwood. 185 101. Importance of Science to a Mechanic G. B. Emerson. 188 102. Story of Rabbi Akiba From Hurioitz's Hebrew Tales. 190 107. First Settlement of the Pilgrims in New England, abridged and compiled from . . . . , Robertson and Neal. 196 108. Extract from an Oration delivered at Plymouth E. Everett. 200 109. Extract from the same Ibid. 201 110. Claim of the Pilgrims to the Gratitude and Reverence of their Descendants O. Dewey. 205 114. Character of the Puritan Fathers Greenwood. 21,3 1 15. The same, concluded Ibid. 216 116. Extract from a Speech on the American Colonies. .Lord Chatham. 219 117. Extract from a Speech on British Aggressions. .Patrick Henry. 221 118. Account of the Battles of Lexington and Concord ». Botta. 223 1 19. The same, conci,uded Ibid. 227 120. Extract from an Oration delivered at Concord E. Everett. 229 127. Account of the Battle of Bunker's Hill Botta. 242 128, The same, concluded Ibid. 246 330, Extract from an Address on Bunker's Hill D. Webster, 250 43l4^Extract from the same Ibid. 252 £tract from a Speech on Dinas Island Phillips. 257 ^ture of True Eloquence. Extract from a Discourse in commemoration of Adams and Jefferson D. Webster, 260 136. Extract from the same Discourse Ibid, 261 137 Extract from the same Ibid, 263 I.ESSONS IN POETRY. 3. Paraphrase of the Nineteenth Psalm Addison. 23 9, Morning Meditations Haickesworth. 24 10. Nature's Music Anonymoies. 25 17, Geehale, An Indian Lament New York Statesman. 36 18, Fall of Tecumseh Id. 38 19, Monument Mountain Brya-t. 39 2L Mounds on tlie Western Rivers M. Feint, 46 24, On planting Flowers on the Graves of Friends. . .Blackwood's Mag. 51 25, Thoughts in Prospect of Death ^ Henry K. White. 52 26. The Grave T Bernard JBarton. 63 27. The Fall of the Leaf Milonov, translated b.y,Bowring.. 64 31. Linos on returning to one's Native Country Anqnymons. 60 32. " He shall fly away as a Dream" .Ajion. 62 35. The World we have not seen Anon. 70 56, The Better Land .Mrs. Hemans. 7J CONTENTS. vii Lesson. Pa^e, 41. The Country Clergyman Goldsmith, 84 42. Parody on " The Country Clergyman" Blackwood's Ed. Mag. 86 43. Elegy on Mrs. Mary Blaize Goldsmith. 88 44. The Sick Man and the Angel Gay. 89 48. Niagara Falls,— from the Spanish. . ..U. S. Literary Gazette. 96 53. The Blind Boy. Bloomjield. 106 54. A Thought on Death Mrs. Barbauld. 107 55. The Old Man's Funeral Bryant. 107 56. Sunday Evening Bovyiing. 109 57. The Star of Bethlehem J. G. Percival. 110 60. The silent Expression of Nature Anonymous. 117 61. A Thought Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine. 118 62. Fidelity Wordsworth. 119 63. Solitude Henry K. White. 121 m. The Man of Ross Pope. 125 68. On v^isiting a Scene of Childhood . . .Blackwood's Ed. Magazine. 129 69. The/littie Graves Anonymous. 131 70. Life] and Death New Monthly Magazine. 133 71. The l^uvial of Arnold Willis. 134 74. Address to Liberty Coivper. 138 75. The Hermit Beattie. 139 76. Hymn to the Stars Monthly Repository. 141 81. The Seasons 3Irs. Barbauld. 149 82. March Bryant. 151 83. April. J Longfellow. 152 84. May ; J. G. Percival. 153 85. The Voice of Spring 3Trs. Hemans. 153 89. Childhood and Manhood. An Apologue Crabbe. 162 90. The Skies Bryant. 164 91. Address to the Stars New Monthly Magazine. 165 92. Song of the Stars .Bryant. 166 96. " That ye, through his poverty, might be rich"' W. Ritssell. 178 97. Elijah fed by Ravens Grahame. 179 99. The Summit of Mount Sinai Montgomery. 184 103. Alice Fell \" Wordsworth. 191 104. The yEolian Harp European Magazine. 193 105. Burial oi Sir John Moor^e Anonymous. 194 106. War unnatural and unchristian Mellen. 195 111, Song of the Pilgrims V T. C. Up ham. 210 112, Landing of the jpilgrrms . . . .^ Mrs. Hemans. 211 113, The Pilgrim Fathers . . fT?. ,_^ Pierpont. 212 121. Elegy, in a Country Churchyard .'Tv.-r77TT777T>^^..^^ Gray. 231 122. The Grave of Korner MrsTHemans. 235 123. God's First Temples. A Plymn Bryant. 236 124. Hymn of Nature Peabody. 239 125. Lines on revisiting the Country Bryant. 241 126. Lines on a Beehive Monthly Repository. 242 129. Warren's Address before the Battle of Bunker's Hill. .Pierpont. 250 132. Hymn, commemorative of the Battle of Bunker's Hill Id. 254 133. " What's hallowed Ground ?" Campbell. 255 13a. The School Boy Amulet. 266 139. Stanzas addressed to the Greeks Anonymaus. 267 140. Spanish Patiiot's Song Anon. 268 141. The Three Warnings Mrs. Thrale. 269 142. The Mariner's Dream ... Dimond. 212 M3. Absalom Wilhs. 274 INDEX OF AUTHORS. The navies of American authors are in Italic. Lessons. Addison 6, 8, 34. Alison 29,45. Amulet 133. Anonymous ... 10, 31, 32, 35, 49, 6G, 69, 105, 139, 140. Banks 94, 95. 98. Barbauld, Mrs. L 54, 81. Barton, Bernard 26. Beattie 75. Berquin 4. Bible 6, 78. Bloomfield „ . . .53. Botta 118, 119, 127, 128. Bowring 27, 56. Bryant. .19, 55, 82, 90, 92, 123, 125. Campbell 133. Channing, W. E 77. Chatham, Lord,— W. Pitt 116. Chesterfield 5. Chronicle, London Literary ... .40. Cowper 74. Crabbe 89. Deioey, Orville 110. Dimond 142. Edwards, Charles 37. Emerson, G. B 101. Emporium, ( Trenton) 14. Everett, Edward 108, 109, 120. Flint, T 20. M 21. Fuller 3. Gay 44. Gazette, London Literary 93. United States Literary . . 48. Goldsmith 41, 43, 65, 73. Grahanie 97. Gray 121. Greenwood, F.W.P. .88, 100, 114, 115. Hawkesworth 9. Heraans, Mrs. F. . .36, 85, 112, 122. lienry, Patrick 117. Howison 47. living, Washington 58, 39. Lessong. Jefferson, Thomas 16, 52. Johnson, Dr, Samuel 30, 33. Knox, Vicesimus ... . . .64, Longfellow, H. W. 83. Mackenzie 23, 58. Magazine, New Monthly. .67, 70, 91. Blackwood's Edin... 24, 42,51,61,68. European 104. Malte-Brun 60. Mavor 72. May 2. Mellen 106. 3Iilonov, translated by Bowring. .27. Missourian 13. Montgomery 99. Moodie 11, 28. Neal and Robertson (abridged) . . 107. Noel 79. Norton, A 87. Peabody, W. O. B 124. Percival, J. G 67, 84. Phillips 1^. Pierpont, J 113, 129, 132. Pope....1 66. Rabbinical 'tales 7, 102. Repository, Monthly 76, 126. Republican, Nat. {Cincinnati) . .15. Review, London Quarterly ... .46. Robertson, (abridged) 1. and Neal (abridged). 107. Russell, WilKam 96. Sprague, Charles 22. Statesmayi, New York 17, 18. Taylor, Miss Jane 59. Thrale,Mr3 14L UphamT. C 111. Ware, H.Jr 12. Webster, D. .130, 131, 135, 136, 137. Wellbeloved 80, 86. White, Henry K 25, 63. Willis 71,143. Wordsworth 62, 103. NATIONAL READER. LESSON I. Discovery of America. — Abridged from Robertson. On Friday, the third day of August, in the year one thousand four hundred and ninety-two, Columbus set sail from Palos, in Spain, a little before sunrise, in presence of a vast crowd of spectators, who sent up their supplications to keavea for the prosperous issue of the voyage ; which they wished, rather than expected. His squadron, if it merit that name, consisted of no more than three small vessels, — the Santa Maria, the Pinta, and the Nigna, — having on board ninety men, mostly sailors, together with a few adventurers, who followed the fortune of Columbus, and some gentlemen of the Spanish court, whom the queen appointed to accompany him. He steered directly for the Canary Islands; from which, after refitting iSis ships, and supplying himself with fresh provisions, he tool, iiis departure on the sixth day of Sep- tember. *^Here the voyage of discovery may properly be said to have begun ; for Columbus, holding his course due west, left immediately the usual track of navigation, and stretched into unfrequent ed and unknown^seas. The first day, asSt^was very calm, he made but little way ; but, on the second" he i^'st sigRt of the Canaries ; and many of the sailors, already dejected and dismayed, when they contemplated the boldness of the undertaking, began to beat their breasts, and to shed tears, as if they were never more to behold land. Columbus comforted them with as- surances of success, and the prospect of vast wealth in those opulent regions, whither he was conducting/them. This early discovery of the spirit of his followers taught Columbus that he must prepare to struggle, not only with tho 10 NATIONAL READER. unavoidable difficulties which might be expected from the nature of his undertaking, but with such as were likely to arise from the ignorance and timidity of the people under his command ; and he perceived, that the art of governing the minds of men would be no less requisite for accomplish- ing the discoveries, which he had in view, than naval skill and an enterprising courage. Happily for himself, and for the country by which he was employed, he joined to the atrdent temper and inventive genius of a projector, virtues of another species, which are rarely united with them. He possessed a thorough know- ledge of mankind, an insinuating address, a patient perseve- rance in executing any plan, the perfect government of his own passions, and the talent of acquiring the direction of those of other men. All these qualities, which formed him for command, were accompanied v/itli that superior knowledge of his profession which begets confidence, in times of difficulty and danger. To unskilful Spanish sailors, accustomed only to coasting voyages in the Mediterranean, the maritime science of Co- lumbus, the fruit of thirty years' experience, appeared im- mense. As soon as they put to sea, he regulated every thing by his sole authority ; he superintended the execution of every order, and, allowing himself only a few hours for sleep, he was, at all other times, upon deck. As his course lay through seas which had not been visited before, the sounding line, or instruments for observation, were continually in his hands. He attended to the motion of the tides and currents, watched the flight of birds, the appear- ance of fishes, of sea-weeds, and of every thing that floated on the waves, and accurately noted every occurrence in a journal that he kept. By the fourteenth day of September, the fleet was above two hundred leagues to the west of the Canary Isles, a greater distance from land than any Spaniard had ever been before that time. Here the sailors were struck with an ap- pearance no less astonishing than new. They observed that the magnetic needle, in their compasses, did not point exact- ly to the north star, but varied towards the west. This appearance, which is now familiar, filled the com- panions of Columbus with terror. They were in an ocean boundless and unknown, nature itself seemed to be altered, and the only guide, which they had left, was about to fail them. Columbus, with no less quickness than ingenuity, invented NATIONAL READER. U a reason for this appearance, which, though it did not satisfy himself, seemed so plausible to them, that it dispelled their fears, and silenced their murmurs. On the first of October, they were aboTit seven hundred and seventy leagues west of the Canaries. They had now been above three weeks at sea: all their prognostics of discovery, drawn from the flight of birds, and other cir- cumstances, had proved fallacious, and their prospect of suc- cess seemed now to be as distant as ever. The spirit of discontent and of mutiny began to manifest itself among the sailors, and, by degrees, the contagion spread from ship to ship. All agreed, that Columbus should be compelled, by force, to return, while their crazy vessels were yet in a condition to keep the sea ; and some even proposed to throw him overboard, as the most expeditious method of getting rid of his remonstrances, and of securing a seasonable return to their native land, Columbus was fully sensible of his perilous situation. He perceived that it would be of no avail to have recourse to any of his former expedients, to lead on the hopes of his companions, and that it was impossible to rekindle any zeal for the success of the expedition, among men, in whose breasts fear had extinguished every generous sentiment. He found it necessary to soothe passions, which he could no longer command, and to give way to a torrent too impe- tuous to be checked. He accordingly promised ..his men, that he would comply with their request, provided they would accompany him, and obey his commands, for three days longer ; and if, during that time, land were not disco- vered, he would then abandon the enterprise, and direct his course towards Spain. Enraged as the sailors were, and impatient as they were of returning to their native country, this proposition did not appear to them unreasonable : nor did Columbus hazard much in confining himself to a time so short ; for the pres'ages of discovering land had become so numerous and promising, that he deemed them infallible. For some days, the sounding line had reached the bottom ; and the soil, which it brought up, indicated land to be at no great distance. The flocks of birds increased, and w^ere composed not only of sea-fowl, but of such land birds as could not be supposed to fly far from the shore. The crew of the Pin ta observed a cane floating, which seemed to have been newly cut, and likewise a piece of timber, artificially carved. The sailors aboard the Nigna 12 NATIONAL READER. took up the branch of a tree, with red berries, perfectly fresh. The clouds, around the setting sun, assumed a new appear- ance ; the air was more mild and warm; and, during night, the wind became unequal and variable. From all these symptoms, Columbus was so confident of being near land, that, on the evening of the eleventh of October, after public prayers for success, he ordered the sails to be furled, and strict watch to be kept, lest the ship should be driven ashore in the night. During this interval of sus- pense and expectation, no man shut his eyes ; all kept upon deck, gazing intently towards that quarter where they ex- pected to discover the land, which had been so long the ob- ject of their wishes. About two hours before midnight, Columbus, standing on the forecastle, observed a light at a distance, and privately pointed it out to two of his people. All three saw it in mo- tion, as if it were carried from place to place. A little after midnight, the joyful sound of Land! land! was heard from the Pinta. But, having been so often deceived by fallacious appearances, they had now become slow of belief, and waited, in all the anguish of uncertainty and impatience, for the return of day. As soon as morning dawned, their doubts and fears were dispelled. They beheld an island about two leagues to the north, whose flat and verdant fields, well stored with wood, and \vaccred with many rivulets, presented^to them the as- pect of a delightful country. The crew of the Pinta in- stantly began a hymn of thanksgiving to God, and were joined, by those of the other ships, with tears of joy, and transports of congratulation. This office of gratitude to Heaven was followed by an act of justice to their commander. They threw themselves at the feet of Columbus, with feelings of self-condemnation, mingled with reverence. They implored him to pardon their ignorance, incredulity, and insolence, which had cre- ated him so much unnecessary disquiet, and had so often obstructed the prosecution of his well-concerted plan ; and passing, in the warmth of their admiration, from one extreme to another, they now pronounced the man, whom they had so lately reviled and threatened, to be a person inspired, by Hea- ven, with sagacity and fortitude more than human, in order to accomplish a design so far beyond the ideas and conceptions of all former ages. As soon as the sun arose, all the boats were manned and armed. They rowed towards the island with their, colours NATIONAL READER. 13 displayed, warlike music, and other martial pomp ; and, as they approached the coast, they saw it covered with a mul- titude of people, whom the novelty of the spectacle had drawn together, and whose attitudes and gestures expressed wonder and astonishment at the strange objects which pre- sented themselves to their view. Columbus was the first European who set foot in the New World which he had discovered. He landed in a rich dress, and with a naked sword in his hand. His men fol- lowed, and, kneeling down, they all kissed the ground which they had long desired to see. They next erected a crucifix, and, prostrating themselves before it, returned thanks to God for conducting their voy- age to such a happy issue. They then took solemn pos- session of the country for the crown of Castile and Leon, w^ith all the formalities with which the Portuguese were accustomed to take possession of their new discoveries. The Spaniards, while thus employed, were surrounded by many of the natives, who gazed, in silent admiration, upon actions which they could not comprehend, and of which they did not foresee the consequences. The dress of the Spaniards, the whiteness of their skins, their beards, their arms, appeared strange and surprising. The vast machines, in which they had traversed the ocean, that seemed to move upon the water with wings, and uttered a dreadful sound, resembling thunder, accompanied with lightning and smoke, struck them with such terror, that they began to respect their new guests as a superior order of beings, and concluded that they were children of the sun, who had descended to visit the earth. The Europeans were hardly less amazed at the scene now before them. Every herb, and shrub, and tree, was differ- ent from those which flourished in Europe. The soil seem- ed to be rich, but bore few marks of cultivation. The cli- mate, even to Spaniards, felt warm, though extremely de- lightful. The inhabitants were entirely naked : their black hair, long and uncurled, floated upon their shoulders, or was bound in tresses around their heads : they had no beards ; their complexion was of a dusky copper colour; their features singular, rather than disagreeable; their aspect gentle and timid. Though not tall, they were well shaped and active. Their faces, and other parts of their body, were fantasti- 2 14 NATIONAL READER. cally painted with glariD^' colours. They were shy at first, through fear, but soon became familiar with the Spaniards, and, with transports of joy, received from them hawks' bells, glass beads, and other baubles ; m return for which, they gave such provisions as they had, and some cotton yarn, the only commodity of value which they could produce. Towards evening, Columbus returned to his ships, accom- panied by many of the islanders in their boats, which they called canoes ; and, though rudely formed out of the trunk of a single tree, they rowed them with surprising dexterity. Thus, in the first interview between the inhabitants of the Old World and those of the New, every thing was con- ducted amicably, and to their mutual satisfaction. The for- mer, enlightened and ambitious, formed already vast ideas with respect to the advantages which they might derive from those regions that began to open to their view. The latter, simple and undiscerning, had no foresight of the calamities and desolation, which were now approaching their country. LESSON IL A good Scholar. — May. [(^ A GOOD scholar is known by his obedience to the rules of the school, and to the directions of his teacher. He does not give his teacher the trouble of telling him the same thing over and over again ; but says or does immediately whatever he is desired. His attendance at the proper time of school is always punctual. Fearful of being too late, as soon as the hour of meeting approaches, he hastens to the school, takes his place quietly, and instantly attends to his lesson. He is remarkable for his diligence and attention. He reads no other book than that which he is desired to read by his master. He studies no lessons but those which are appointed for the day. He takes no toys from his pocket to amuse himself or others ; he has no fruit to eat, no sweetmeats to give away. — If any of his companions attempt to take off his eye or his mind from his lesson, he does not give heed to them. If they still try to make him idle, he bids them let him alone, and do their own duties. And if, after this, they go on to disturb and vex him, he informs the teacher, that, both for NATIONAL READER. 15 llieir sake and for liis own, he may interfere, and, by a wise reproof, prevent the continuance of such improper and hurt- ful conduct. When strangers enter the school, he does not stare rudely in their faces; but is as, attentive to his lesson as if no one were present but the master. If they speak to him, he answers with modesty and respect. Y/hen the scholars in Ills class are reading, spelling, or repeating any thing, he is very attentive, and studies to learn by listening to them. His great desire is to improve, and therefore he is never klle^ — not even when he might be so, and yet escape detec- tion and punishment. He minds his business as well when his teacher is out of sight, as when he is standing near him, or looking at him. If possible, he is more diligent when his 'teacher happens for a little to be away from him, that he may show " all good lidelity" in this, as in every thing else. He is desir- ous of adding to the knowledge he has already gained, of learning something useful every day. And he is not satis- fied if a day passes, without making him v/iser than he was before, in those things which will be of real benefit to him. When he has a difficult lesson to learn, or a hard task to perform, he does not fret or murmur at it. He knows that his master would not have prescribed it to him, unless he had thought that he was able for it, and that it would do him good. ||e therefore sets about it readily; and he en- courages himself with such thoughts as these : " My parents vvili be very glad Vvdien they hear that I have learned this diiiicult lesson, and performed this hard task. My teacher, also, will be pleased with me for my diligence. And I myself shall be comfortable and happy when the exercise is finished. The sooner and the more heartily I apply myself to it, the sooner and the better it wdll be done." When he reads, his words are pronounced so distinctly, that you can easily hear and understand him. His copy book is fairly written, and free from blots and scrawls. His letters are clear apd^tril, and his strokes broad and fine. His figures are well made,, accurately cast up, and neatly put down in their regular order ; and his accounts are, in gene- ral, free from mistakes. He not only improves himself, but he rejoices in the im- provement of others. He loves to hear them commended, and to see them rewarded. " If I do well," he says, " I shall be commended and rewarded too ; and if all did well, 16 NATIONAL READER. what a happy school would ours be ! We ourselves would be much more comfortable ; and our master would have a great deal less trouble and distress than he has on account of the idleness and inattention, of which too many of us are guilty." His books he is careful to preserve from every thing that might injure them. Having finished his lesson, he puts them in their proper place, and does not leave them to be tossed about, and, by that means, torn and dirtied. He never forgets to pray for the blessing of God on himself, on his school-fellows, and on his teacher ; for he knows that the blessing of God is necessary to make his education truly useful to him, both in this life, and in that which is to come. And, finally, it is his constant endeavour to behave well when he is out of school, as well as when he is in it. He remembers that the eye of God is ever upon him, and that he must at last give an account of himself to the great Judge of all. And, therefore, he studies to practise, at all times, the religious and moral lessons that he receives from his master, or that he reads in the Bible, or that he meets with in the other books that are given him to peruse ; and to " walk in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord, blameless."! LESSON HL ^ The good Schoohnaster. — ^Fuller. There isjyscarce any profession in the commonwealth more necessary, which is so slightly performed, as that of a s(Sioolmaster : the reasons whereof I conceive to be these. First, young scholars make thts calling their refuge ; yea, perchance, before they have taken any degree in the univer- sity, commence schoolmasters in the country, as if nothing else were required to set up this profession, but only a rod and a ferule. Secondly, others, who are able, use it only as a passage to better preferment, to patch the rents in their present for- tune, till they can provide a new one, and betake themselves to some more gainful calling. Thirdly, they are disheartened from doing their best with the miserable reward which, in some places, they receive ; . NATIONAL READER. 17 being masters to the children, and slaves to their parents. But see how well our schoolmaster behaves himself. He stiidieth his scholars' natures as carefully as they their books, and ranks their dispositions into several forms. And, though it may seem difficult for him, in a great school, to descend to all particulars, yet experienced schoolmasters may quickly make a grammar of boys 'Matures, and reduce them all (saving some few exceptions) to these general rules : 1. Those that are ingenioiis and industrious. The con- junction of two such planets iri a youth presa'ges much good unto him. To such a lad a frdwn may be a whipping, and a whipping a death-y yea, where his master whips him once, shame whips him all the week xafter. Such natures he useth with all gen,tleness. ^ 2. Those that arejiigenkrns and idle. These think, with the hare in the fable, that, running with snails, (so they count the rest of their school-fellov/s,) they shall come soon enough to the post; though sleeping a good while before their start- ing. 0, a good rod would finely take them napping. 3. Those that be dull and diligent. Wines, the stronger they be, the. more lees they have when they are new. Many boys are muddy-head^ till they be clarified with age, and such afterwards prove the best. Bristol diamonds are both bright, and squared, and pointed, by nature, and yet are soft and worthier ; whereas orient ones in India are rough and rugged naturally. Hard, rugged, and dull natures of youth acquit themselves afterwards the jewels of the country ; and therefore their dulness is at first to be borne with, if they be diligent. That schoolmaster deserves to be beaten him- self, who beats nature in a boy for a fault. 4. Those that are invincibly dull, and negligent also. Correction may reform the latter, not amend the former. All the whetting in the world can never set a razor's edge on that which hath no steel in it. Such boys he consigneth over to other professions. Shipwrights and boatmakers will choose those crooked pieces of timber, which other carpen- ters refuse. He is able, diligent, and methodical in his teaching ; not leading them rather in a circle than forwards. He minces his precepts for children to swallow, hanging clogs on the nimbleness of his own soul, that his scholars may go. along^ with him. He is moderate in inflicting even deserved cor- rection. 2* IS NATIONAL READER. Many a schoolmaster seemeth to understand, that school- ing his pupils meaneth scolding and scoring them; and therefore, in bringing them forward, he useth the lash more than the leading string. Such an Orbilius* mars more scholars than he makes. The tyr'anny of such a man hath caused the tongues of many to stammer, which spake plainly by nature, and whose stuttering, at first, was nothing else but fears quavering on their speech at their master's presence. LESSON IV. Attention and Industry rewarded. — Berquin. A RICH husbandman had two sons, the one exactly a year older than the other. The very day the second was born, he set, in the entrance of his orchard, two young apple-trees, of equal size, which he cultivated with the same care, and which grew so equally, that no person could perceive the least difference between them. When his children were capable of handling garden tools, he took them, one fine morning in spring, to see these two trees, which he had planted for them, and called after their names ; and, when they had sufficiently admired Uieir growth, and the number of blossoms that covered thlb, he said, " My dear children, I give you these trees : you see they qj;g.m good condition. They will thrive as much by your «;are, as they will decline by your negligence ; and their fruit will reward you in proportion to your labour." The youngest, named Edmund, was industrious and at- tentive. He busied himself in clearing his tree of insects that would hurt it, and he propped up its stem, to prevent its taking a wrong bent. He loosened the earth about it, that the warmth of the sun, and the moisture of the dews, might cherish the roots. His mother had not tended him more carefully in his infancy, than he tended his young apple- tree. His brother, Moses, did not imitate his example. He spent a great deal of time on a mount that was near, throw- * Orbilnts, — « grammarian of Beneventimi. who was the first instnirter of the poet Horace. He was naturaUy of a severe disposition, of which his pupils often felt the effects. NATIONAL READEB. 19 ing stones at the passengers in the road. He went among all the little dirty boys in the neighbourhood, to box with them ; so that he was often seen with broken shins and black eyes, from the kicks and blows he received in his quarrels. In short, he neglected his tree so far, that he never thought of it, till, one day in autumn, he, by chance, saw Edmund's tree so full of apples, streaked with purple and gold, that, had it not been for the props which supported its branches, the weight of its fruit must have bent it to the ground. Struck with the sight of so fine a tree, he hastened to his own, hoping to find as large a crop upon it ; but, to his great surprise, he saw scarcely any thing, except brunches covered with moss, and a few yellow, withered leaves. Full of pas- sion and jealousy, he ran to his father, and said, " Father, what sort of a tree is that which you have given me ? It is a^ dry as a broomstick ; and I shall not have ten apples on it. My brother you have used better : bid him, at least, share his apples with me." " Share with you !" said his father : " so, the industrious must lose his labour to feed the idle ! Be satisfied with your lot ; it is the eifect of your negligence ; and do not think to accuse me of injustice, when you see your brother's rich crop. " Your tree was as fruitful, and in as good order as his : it bore as many blossoms, and grew in the same soil : only it was not fostered with the same care. Edmund has kept his tree clear of hurtful insects ; but you hav^ suffered them to eat up yours in its blossoms. " As I do not choose to let any thing which God has given me, and for which I hold myself accountable to him, go to ruin, I shall take this tree from ydu, and call it no more by your name. It must pass through your brother's hands, before it can recover itself; and, from this moment, both it, and the fruit it may bear, are his property. " You may, if you will, go into my nursery, and look for another, and rear it, to make amends for your fault ; but, if you neglect it, that too shall be given to your brother for assisting me in my labour." Moses felt the justice of his father's sentence, and the wisdom of his design. He, therefore, went that moment into the nursery, and chose one of the most thriving apple- trees he could find. Edmund assisted him, with his advice, 20 NATIONAL READER. in rearing it; Moses embraced every occasion of paying attention to it. He was now never out of humour with his comrades,* and still less with himself; for he applied cheerfully to work; and, in autumn, he had the pleasure of seeing his tree fully answer his hopes. Thus he had the double advantage of enriching himself with a splendid crop of fruit, and, at the same time, of subduing the vicious habits he had contracted. His father was so well pleased with this change, that, the following year, he divided the produce of a small orchard between him and his brother. LESSON Y. On Lying. — Chesterfield. U REALLY know nothing. more criminal, more mean, and mOTe ridiculous, than lying. It is the production either of malice, cowardice, or vanity ; and generally misses of its aim in every one of these \4ews ; for lies are ahvays de- tected sooner or later. If I tell a malicious lie, in order to affect any man's fortune or character, \ may indeed injure him for some time ; but I shall be sure to be the greatest sufferer at last : for, as soon^as I am detected, (and detected I most certainly shall be,) I am -blasted for 'the infamous attempt ; and whatever is said afterwards to the disadvan- tage of that person, however true, passes for calumny. If I lie, or equivocate, (for it is the same thing,) in order to excuse myself for something that I have said or done, and to avoid the danger or the shame that I apprehend from it, I discover, at once, my fear, as well as my false- hood ; and only increase, instead of avoiding, the danger and the shame ; I shovr myself to be the lowest and meanest of mankind, and am sure to be always treated as such. Fear, instead of. avoiding, invites danger ; for concealed cowards will insult known ones. If one has had the mis- fortune to be in the wrong, there is something noble in frankly owning it ; it is the only way of atoning for it, and the only way of being forgiven. Equivocating, evading, shuffling, in order to remove a present danger or inconveniency, is something so mean, and betrays so much fear, that whoever practises them always * Pron. ctun'-rades. NATIONAL READER. 21 deserves to be, and often will be, kicked. There is another sort of lies, inoffensive enough in themselves, but wonder- fully ridiculous : I mean those lies which a mistaken vanity suggests, that defeat the very end for which they are cal- culated, and terminate in the humiliation and confusion of their author, who is sure to be detected* These are chiefly narrative a,nd historic'ai lies, all intended to do infinite ho- nour to'thejr author. ^ ^ He is always the hero of bis own roman^ces ; he has been in danger^, from which nobody but himself ever escaped ; he has seen with his^ own eyes whatever other people have heard or read of; and has ridden more miles post in one day, than ever courier went in two. He is soon discovered, and as soon becomes the object of universal contempt and ridicule. • Remember, then, as long as you live, that nothing but strict truth can carry you through the world, with either 3'our conscience or your honour unwounded. It is not only your duty, but your interest : as a proof of which, you may always observe, that the greatest fools are the greatest liars. For my own part, I judge, hy every man's truth, of his de- gree of understanding^ ■%ESSON VI. Portrait of a Patriarch. — ^Addison. ; I CANNOT forbear making an extract of several passages, which I have always read with gi^at delight, in the book of Job. It is the account, which mat ^^ man gives, of his behaviour in the days of his prosper^^ and, if considered only as a human composition, is a finer picture of a charita- ble and good-natured man than is to be met with in any «ther author. " Oh that I were as in months past, as in the days when God preserved me ; when his candle shined upon my head, and when, by his light, I walked through darkness ; when the Almighty was yet with me ; when my children were about me ; when I washed my steps with butter, and the rock poured out rivers of oil. " When the ear heard me, then it blessed me ; and when the eye sav/ me> it gave witness to aae ; because I delivered 22 ^"ATIONAL READEK. the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me ; and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy. I was eyes to the blind, and feet was I to the lame ; I was a father to the poor ; and the cause which I knew not I searched out. " Did not I v/eep for him that was in trouble ? Was not my soul grieved for the poor ? Let me be weighed in an even balance, that God may know^ mine integrity. If I did despise the cause of my man-servant or of my m.aid-servant, when they contended ^\-ith me, what then shall I do when God riseth up ? and when he visiteth, what shall I ansvr.er him ? Did not he that made me make him also ? " If I have withheld the poor from their desire, or have caused the eyes of the widow, to fail, or have eaten my morsel myself alone, and the fatherless hath not eaten there- of; if I have seen any perish for want of clothing, or any poor without covering ; if his loins have not blessed me, and if he were not warmed with the fleece of my sheep; if I have lifted up my hand against the fatherless, when I saw my help in the gate ; then let mine arm fall from my shoul- der-blade, and mine arm be broken from the bone. "I rejoiced not at th#destruction of him that hated me, nor lifted up myself when evil found him ; neither have I suffered my mouth to sin, by wish^J; a curse to his soul. The stranger did not lodge in the street ; but I opened my doors to the traveller. If my land cry against me, or the furrows thereof complain ; if I have eaten the fruits thereof without money, or have caused the owners thereof to lose their life ; let thistles grow instead of wheat, and cockles instead of barley.',? ^ LESSON VII. An uncharitable Spirit rebuked. — Rabbinical. And it came to pass, after these things, that Abraham sat in the door of his tent, about the going down of the sun. And behold, a man, bent with age, came from the way of the wilderness, leaning on a staff! And Abraham arose, and met him, and said unto him, " Turn in, I pray thee, and v/ash thy feet, and tarry aU night; and tliou shalt arise NATIONAL READER. 23 early in the morning, and go on thy way." And the man said, "Nay; for I will abide under this tree." But Abraham pressed him greatly: so he turned, and they went into the tent : and Abraham baked unleavened bread, and they did eat. And when Abraham saw that the man blessed not God, he said unto him, " Wherefoij^dost thou not worship the most high God, Creator of heaven and earth ?" And the man answered, and said, " I do not wor- ship thy God, neither do I call upon his name ; for I have made to myself a god, which abideth always in my house, and provideth me with all things.^' And Abraham's zeal was kindled against the man, and he arose, and fell upon him, and drove him forth, with blows, into the wilderness. And God called unto Abraham, saying, " Abraham, where is the stranger ?" And Abraham answered, and said, "Lord, he would not worship thee^ neither would he call upon thy name ; therefore have I driven him out from before my face into the v/ilderness." And God said, " Have I borne v/ith him these hundred and ninety and eight years, and nourished him, and clothed him, notwithstanding his rebellion against me ; and couldst not thou, who art thyself a sinner, bear with him one night/" V. .ES§ON YIIL Paraphrase of the Nineteenth Psalm. — Addison. ' The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky. And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim : The unwearied sun, from day to day, Does his Creator's power display, And publishes to every land The work of an Almighty Hand. Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale^ And nightly, to the listening earth, Repeats the story of her birth* : * P:on. bertl). 24 '- NATIONAL READER. Whilst all the stars, that round her bujn, And all the planets, in their turn, Confirm the tidings, as they roll. And spread the truth from pole to pole. What though, in solemn silence, all ^ove round this dark terrestrial ball ! What though nor real voice, nor sound, Amid their radiant orbs be found ! In reason's ear they all rejoice. And utter forth a glorious voice, For ever singing, as they shine, " The Hand that made us is Divine." LESSON IX. Morning Meditations. — Hawkesworth. In sleep's serene oblivion laid, I've safely passed the silent night ; Again I see the breaking shade. Again behold the morning light. New-born, I bless the waking hour ; Once more, with awe, rejoice to be ; My conscious soul resumes her power. And soars, my guardian God, to thee. O guide me through the various maze My doubtful feet are doomed to tread ; And spread thy shield's protecting blaze Where dangers press around my head. A