verstaan" (I do not understand you). The Parisian, not doubting but that he understood, took the Dutchman's answer for the name of the proprietor. "0, 0," said he, "it belongs to Mr. Kaniferstane. Well, I am sure he must be very agreeably situated; the house is most charming, and the garden appears delicious. I don't know that ever I saw a better. A friend of mine has one much like it, near the river at Chaise; but I certainly give this the preference." He added many other observations of the same kind, to which the Dutchman, not understanding them, made no reply. When he arrived at Amsterdam, he saw a most beautiful woman on the quays, walking arm in arm with a gentleman. He asked a person that passed him who that charming lady was; but the man, not understanding French, replied, "Ik kan niet verstaan." "What, sir," replied our traveller, "is that Mr. Kaniferstane's wife, whose house is near the canal? Indeed, this gentleman's lot is enviable; to possess such a noble house, and so lovely a companion." "0," The next day, when he was walking out, he saw some trumpeters playing at a gentleman's door, who had got the largest prize in the Dutch lottery. Our Parisian, wishing to be informed of the gentleman's name, he was still answered, "Ik kan niet verstaan." said he, "this is too great an accession of good fortune! Mr. Kaniferstane, proprietor of such a fine house, husband of such a beautiful woman, and to get the largest prize in the lottery! It must be allowed that there are some fortunate men in the world." About a week after this, our traveller, walking about, saw a very superb burying. He asked whose it was. "Ik kan niet verstaan," replied the person of whom he asked the question. "O, my God!" exclaimed he; "poor Mr. Kaniferstane, who had such a noble house, such an angelic wife, and the largest prize in the lottery. He must have quitted this world with great regret; but I thought his happiness was too complete to be of long duration." He then went home, reflecting all the way on the instability of human affairs. 4. THE SHIP OF STATE.-Rev. Wm. P. Lunt. Break up the union of these States, because there are acknowledged evils in our system? Is it so easy a matter, then, to make every thing in the actual world conform exactly to the ideal pattern we have conceived in our minds, of absolute right? Suppose the fatal blow were struck, and the bonds which fasten together these States were severed; would the evils and mischiefs that would be experienced by those who are actually members of this vast Republican Community be all that would ensue? Certainly not. We are connected with the several Nations and Races of the world as no other People has ever been connected. We have opened our doors, and invited emigration to our soil from all lands. Our invitation has been accepted. Thousands have come at our bidding. Thousands more are on the way. Other thousands still are standing a-tiptoe on the shores of the Old World, eager to find a passage to the land where bread may be had for labor, and where man is treated as man. In our political family, almost all nations are represented. The several varieties of race are here subjected to a social fusion, out of which Providence designs to form a "new man." We are in this way teaching the world a great lesson, namely, that men of different languages, habits, manners, and creeds, can live together, and vote together, and, if not pray and worship together, yet in near vicinity, and do all in peace, and be, for certain purposes at least, one people. And is not this lesson of some value to the world, especially if we can teach it not by theory merely, but through a successful example? Has not this lesson, thus conveyed, some connection with the world's progress towards that far-off period to which the human mind looks for the fulfilment of its vision of a perfect social state? It may be safely asserted that this Union could not be dissolved without disarranging and convulsing every part of the globe. Not in the indulgence of a vain confidence did our fathers build the Ship of State, and launch it upon the waters. We will exclaim, in the words of one of our poets: Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along. Seek'st thou the plashy brink Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, Or where the rocking billows rise and sink On the chafed ocean side? There is a Power, whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast,― All day thy wings have fanned At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near. And soon that toil shall end; Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend Soon o'er thy sheltered nest. Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form; yet, on my heart Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart. He who, from zone to zonė, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright. LESSON XLI. 1. THE AMERICAN FLAG.-J. R. Drake. B. 1795; d. 1820. And When Freedom, from her mountain height, * Flag of the free heart's hope and home! |