ried, stupefied, disheartened, thinking himself a mere blockhead.

7. Thus musing, I approached the roadman. I inquired how his wife and children were. I asked how he liked the new cottage he had lately moved into. Well, he said; but it was far from his work: he had walked eight miles and a half that morning to his work; he had to walk the same distance home again in the evening after laboring all day; and for this his wages were thirteen shillings a week, with a deduction for such days as he might be unable to work.

8. He did not mention all this by way of complaint; he was comfortably off, he said; he should be thankful he was so much better off than many. He had got a little pony lately very cheap, which would carry himself and his tools to and from his employment, and that would be very nice. In all likelihood, my friendly reader, the roadman would not have been so communicative to you; but as for me, it is my duty and my happiness to be the sympathizing friend of every man, woman, and child in this parish, and it pleases me much to believe that there is no one throughout its little population who does not think of me and speak to me as a friend.

9. I talked a little longer to the roadman about parish affairs. We mutually agreed in remarking the incongruous colors of a pair of ponies which passed in a little phaeton, of which one was cream-colored and the other dapple-gray. The phaeton came from a friend's house a little way off, and I wondered if it were going to the railway to bring some one who (I knew) was expected; for in such simple matters do we simple country folk find something to maintain the interest of life.

10. I need not go on to describe what other things I did; how I looked with pleasure at a field of oats and another of potatoes in which I am concerned, and held several short conversations with passers-by; but the result of the whole was a conviction that, after all, it was best to set to work at once, though well remembering how much, by indoor work in the country on such a day as this, one is missing. And the thought of the roadman's seventeen miles of walking, in addition to his day's work, was something of a reproof and a stimulus.

XCVII.-THE WAY TO HEAVEN.

J. G. HOLLAND.

1. Heaven is not gained at a single bound;
But we build the ladder by which we rise
From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies,
And we mount to its summit round by round.

2. I count this thing to be grandly true,

That a noble deed is a step towards God,-
Lifting the soul from the common sod
To purer air and broader view.

3. We rise by things that are 'neath our feet;
By what we have mastered of good and gain;
By the pride deposed and the passion slain,
And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet.

4. We hope, we aspire, we resolve, we trust,

When the morning calls us to life and light, But our hearts grow weary, and, ere the night, Our lives are trailing the sordid dust.

5. We hope, we resolve, we aspire, we pray,

And we think that we mount the air on wings
Beyond the recall of sensual things,

While our feet still cling to the heavy clay.

6. Wings for the angels, but feet for the men! We may borrow the wings to find the way— We may hope and resolve and aspire and pray, But our feet must rise, or we fall again.

7. Only in dreams is a ladder thrown

From the weary earth to the sapphire walls; But the dreams depart, and the vision falls, And the sleeper wakes on his pillow of stone.

8. Heaven is not reached at a single bound;
But we build the ladder by which we rise
From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies,
And we mount to its summit round by round.

QUESTIONS.-What lesson is this poem intended to teach? Show clearly what it is.

First Stanza.

What does "heaven" mean, in the first line? What "ladder" is meant, in the second line? What are the "vaulted skies"?

Second Stanza.

What is meant by being "grandly true"? What is the meaning of the second line? What is spoken of as "lifting the soul"? What is meant by this? Does the doing of a good deed help us to see the truth more clearly than before, and to see more of it? Explain the last line. What is the advantage of" pure air"?

Third Stanza.

Explain the first line. What is meant by " the pride deposed"? "the passion slain"? How may pride be deposed? How may passion be slain? Explain the last line.

Fourth Stanza.

Tell as carefully as you can in your own language the meaning of this stanza.

Seventh Stanza.

Find in the Bible the story alluded to in this stanza. What is the meaning of the stanza? Point out the beauty and aptness of the comparison.

XCVIII.-" HE GIVETH HIS BELOVED SLEEP."

ELIZABETH B. BROWNING.

1. Of all the thoughts of God that are
Borne inward unto souls afar,

Along the Psalmist's music deep,
Now tell me if there any is,
For gift or grace, surpassing this-
He giveth His beloved, sleep!

2. What would we give to our beloved?
The hero's heart, to be unmoved,

The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep,
The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse,
The monarch's crown, to light the brows?—
He giveth His beloved, sleep.

3. What do we give to our beloved?
A little faith all undisproved,
A little dust to overweep,

4.

And bitter memories to make

The whole earth blasted for our sake.-
He giveth His beloved, sleep.

Sleep soft, beloved!" we sometimes say,
But have no time to charm away

Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep.

But never doleful dream again

Shall break the happy slumber when
He giveth His belovéd, sleep.

5. O earth, so full of dreary noises !
O men, with wailing in your voices !
O delvéd gold, the wailers heap!
O strife, O curse, that o'er it fall!
God strikes a silence through you all,
And giveth His beloved, sleep.

6. His dews drop mutely on the hill ;
His cloud above it saileth still,

Though on its slope men sow and reap.
More softly than the dew is shed,
Or cloud is floated overhead,
He giveth His beloved, sleep.

7. Ay, men may wonder while they scan
A living, thinking, feeling man

Confirmed in such a rest to keep;
But angels say, and through the word
I think their happy smile is heard-
"He giveth His beloved, sleep."

8. For me, my heart that erst did go
Most like a tired child at a show,

That sees through tears the mummers leap,
Would now its wearied vision close,
Would childlike on His love repose

Who giveth His beloved, sleep.

9. And, friends, dear friends,—when it shall be
That this low breath is gone from me,
And round my bier ye come to weep,

Let One, most loving of you all,
Say, "Not a tear must o'er her fall;
He giveth His belovéd, sleep!"

QUESTIONS.-What kind of poetry is this? Is it joyous, sad, pathetic, plaintive? How much force does it require? What degree of pitch? .of speed? What feelings ought to be expressed in the reading of it?

First Stanza.

What "thought of God" is mentioned in this stanza. What precedes in thought the word "of" at the beginning of the first line? Convert the stanza into prose so as to show this. What is the meaning of the word "afar," and what does it modify? Meaning of "for" in the fifth line?