Chapter 21

1. The young people of Athens, amazed at the glory of Themistocles,[Headnote 1] of Cimon,[Headnote 2] of Pericles,[Headnote 3] and full of a foolish ambition, after having received some lessons from the sophists, who promised to render them very great politicians, believed themselves capable of every thing, and aspired to fill the highest places. One of them, named Glaucon, took it so strongly in his head that he had a _peculiar genius_ for public affairs, although he was not yet twenty years of age, that no person in his family, nor among his friends, had the power to divert him from a notion so little befitting his age and capacity.

2. Socrates, who liked him on account of Plato [Headnote 4] his brother, was the only one who succeeded in making him change his resolution. Meeting him one day, he accosted him with so dexterous a discourse, that he induced him to listen. He had already gained much influence over him. "You have a desire to govern the republic?" said Socrates. "True," replied Glaucon. "You can not have a finer design," said the philosopher, "since, if you succeed in it, you will be in a state to serve your friends, to enlarge your house, and to extend the limits of your native country.

3. "You will become known not only in Athens, but through all Greece; and it may be that your renown will reach even to the barbarous nations, like that of Themistocles. At last, you will gain the respect and admiration of everybody." A beginning so flattering pleased the young man exceedingly, and he very willingly continued the conversation. "Since you desire to make yourself esteemed and respected, it is clear that you think to render yourself useful to the public." "Assuredly." "Tell me, then, I beseech you, what is the first service that you intend to render the state?"

4. As Glaucon appeared to be perplexed, and considered what he ought to answer,--"Probably," replied Socrates, "it will be to enrich the republic, that is to say, to increase its revenues." "Exactly so." "And, undoubtedly, you know in what the revenues of the state consist, and the extent to which they may be increased. You will not have failed to make it a private study, to the end that if one source should suddenly fail, you may be able to supply its place immediately with another." "I assure you," answered Glaucon, "that this is what I have never thought of."

5. "Tell me, at least, then, the necessary expenses of maintaining the republic. You can not fail to know of what importance it is to retrench those which are superfluous." "I confess to you that I am not more instructed with regard to this article than the other." "Then it is necessary to defer till another time the design that you have of enriching the republic; for it is impossible for you to benefit the state while you are ignorant of its revenues and expenses."

6. "But," said Glaucon, "there is still another means that you pass over in silence,--one can enrich a state by the ruin of its enemies." "You are right." replied Socrates, "but, in order to do that, you must be the more powerful; otherwise you run the risk of losing that which you possess. So, he who speaks of undertaking a war, ought to know the power of both parties, to the end that if he finds his party the stronger, he may boldly risk the adventure; but, if he find it the weaker, he should dissuade the people from undertaking it.

7. "But, do you know what are the forces of our republic, by sea and by land, and what are those of our enemies'? have you a statement of them in writing'? You will do me the pleasure to allow me a perusal of it." "I have none yet," replied Glaucon. "I see, then," said Socrates, "that we shall not make war so soon, if they intrust _you_ with the government; for there remain many things for you to know, and many cares to take."

8. The sage mentioned many other articles, not less important, in which he found Glaucon equally inexperienced, and he pointed out how ridiculous they render themselves, who have the rashness to intermeddle with government, without bringing any other preparation to the task than _a great degree of self-esteem and excessive ambition_. "Fear, my dear Glaucon," said Socrates, "fear, lest a too ardent desire for honors should blind you; and cause you to take a part that would cover you with shame, in bringing to light your incapacity, and want of talent."

9. The youth was wise enough to profit by the good advice of his instructor, and took some time to gain private information, before he ventured to appear in public. This lesson is for all ages.

QUESTIONS.--1. To what did the young people of Athens aspire? 2. What did Glaucon believe he possessed? 3. Who succeeded in making him change his resolution? 4. How did Socrates do this? 5. What did Socrates finally say to him?

* * * * *

LESSON LXXXVII.

CREST, topmost height. TOR' RENTS, rushing streams. TYPE, symbol; token. AE' RIE, (_â' ry_,) eagle's nest. VAULT' ED, arched. LIQ' UID, (_lik' wid_,) clear; flowing. BASK, lie exposed to warmth. CAN' O PY, covering. REV' EL RY, noisy merriment. BIDE, stay; continue. VO LUP' TU OUS, devoted to pleasure. HAUNTS, places of resort. EX PIRES', dies; becomes extinct. SMOL' DER ING, burning and smoking without vent. HER' IT AGE, inheritance. QUENCH' ED, extinguished. PEN' NON, flag; banner. WRENCH, wrest; twist off. CRA' VEN, base; cowardly.

SONG OF THE AMERICAN EAGLE.

1. I build my nest on the mountain's crest, Where the wild winds rock my eaglets to rest,-- Where the lightnings flash, and the thunders crash, And the roaring torrents foam and dash; For my spirit free henceforth shall be A type of the sons of Liberty.

2. Aloft I fly from my aërie high, Through the vaulted dome of the azure sky; On a sunbeam bright take my airy flight, And float in a flood of liquid light; For I love to play in the noontide ray, And bask in a blaze from the throne of day.

3. Away I spring with a tireless wing, On a feathery cloud I poise and swing; I dart down the steep where the lightnings leap, And the clear blue canopy swiftly sweep; For, dear to me is the revelry Of a free and fearless Liberty.

4. I love the land where the mountains stand, Like the watch-towers high of a Patriot band; For I may not bide in my glory and pride, Though the land be never so fair and wide, Where Luxury reigns o'er voluptuous plains, And fetters the free-born soul in chains.

5. Then give to me in my flights to see The land of the pilgrims _ever free_! And I never will rove from the haunts I love But watch, from my sentinel-track above, Your banner free, o'er land and sea, And exult in your glorious Liberty.

6. _O, guard ye well the land where I dwell_, Lest to future times the tale I tell, When slow expires in smoldering fires The goodly heritage of your sires,-- How Freedom's light rose clear and bright O'er fair Columbia's beacon-hight, Till ye quenched the flame in a starless night.

7. Then will I tear from your pennon fair The stars ye have set in triumph there; My olive-branch on the blast I'll launch, The fluttering stripes from the flagstaff wrench, And away I'll flee; for I scorn to see _A craven race_ in the land of the free!

QUESTIONS.--1. Where does the eagle build its nest? 2. Describe its flights. 3. Where does it love to dwell? 4. Of what is the eagle a type? 5. What warning does it give to the people of this country? 6. What is there peculiar in the construction of the first, third, and fifth lines of each verse?

* * * * *

LESSON LXXXVIII.

AN' THEM, ode; song. DAUNT' LESS, bold; fearless. WAG' ED, carried on. UN AW' ED, undismayed. SCROLL, roll of paper; document. COUNT' LESS, unnumbered. ROY' AL, regal; noble. U' NI VERSE, whole creation. BAF' FLED, frustrated. TY RAN' NIC, oppressive; despotic. CURB, check; restrain. SUC CEED' ING, following. HURL' ED, thrown. PEAL' ED, resounded.

[Headnote 1: HEL' LES PONT, now the Dardanelles, a narrow strait between Asia and Europe.]

[Headnote 2: XER' XES, (_zerks' ees_,) the celebrated king of Persia, during his famous expedition into Greece, caused a bridge of boats to be built over the Hellespont; but the work having been destroyed by a storm, he was greatly enraged against the sea, and ordered it to be lashed, and fetters to be cast into it to restrain its violence.]

THE ARMY OF REFORM.

SARAH JANE LIPPINCOTT.

1. Yes, _ye are few_,--and _they were few_, Who, daring storm and sea, Once raised upon old Plymouth rock "The anthem of the free."

2. _And they were few_ at Lexington, To battle, or to die,-- That lightning-flash, that thunder-peal, Told that the storm was nigh.

3. _And they were few_, who dauntless stood, Upon old Bunkers hight, And waged with Britain's strength and pride The fierce, unequal fight.

4. _And they were few_, who, all unawed By kingly "rights divine," The Declaration, rebel scroll,[Footnote 1] Untrembling dared to sign.

5. _Yes, ye are few_; for one proud glance Can take in all your band, As now against a countless host, Firm, true, and calm, ye stand.

6. Unmoved by Folly's idiot laugh, Hate's curse, or Envy's frown,-- Wearing your rights as royal robes, Your manhood as a crown,--

7. With eyes whose gaze, unvailed by mists, Still rises, clearer, higher,-- With stainless hands, and lips that Truth Hath touched with living fire,--

8. With one high hope, that ever shines Before you as a star,-- One prayer of faith, one fount of strength, _A glorious few ye are!_

9. Ye _dare_ not fear, ye _can not_ fail, Your destiny ye bind To that sublime, eternal law That rules the march of mind.

10. See yon bold eagle toward the sun Now rising free and strong, And see yon mighty river roll Its sounding tide along!

11. Ah! yet near earth the eagle tires, Lost in the sea, the river; _But naught can stay the human mind_,-- _'Tis upward, onward, ever!_

12. It yet shall tread the starlit paths, By highest angels trod, And pause but at the farthest world In the universe of God.

13. 'Tis said that Persia's baffled king, In mad, tyrannic pride, Cast fetters on the Hellespont,[Headnote 1] To curb its swelling tide:

14. But freedom's own true spirit heaves The bosom of the main; It tossed those fetters to the skies, And bounded on again!

15. The scorn of each succeeding age On Xerxes'[Headnote 2] head was hurled, And o'er that foolish deed has pealed The long laugh of a world.

16. Thus, thus, defeat, and scorn, and shame, Is _his_, who strives to bind _The restless, leaping waves of thought,_ _The free tide of the mind._

[Footnote 1: The reference is to the Declaration of Independence, made July 4th, 1776.]

QUESTIONS.--1. Who raised the anthem of the free on Plymouth Rock? 2. What is said of the few on Bunker's Hight? 3. How many signed the Declaration of Independence? Ans. 56. 4. What is said of the eagle? 5. Of the human mind? 6. Of Freedom? 7. Where is the Hellespont?

* * * * *

LESSON LXXXIX.

FRESH' EN ED, grew brisk or strong. FIT FUL LY, at intervals. IN DI CA' TION, sign; token. EN THU' SI ASM, strong feeling. AP PRE HEND' ING, fearing. A BAN' DON, give up; forsake. HAW' SERS, cables; large ropes. VOL UN TEER' ED, offered willingly. IN' TER VAL, intervening time. DE VOT' ED, doomed; ill-fated. THWARTS, seats placed across a boat. GUAR' AN TY, warrant. IN EV' I TA BLY, certainly; surely. AC CU' MU LA TED, collected; heaped. STAN' CHION, (_stan' shun_,) small post. VI' ED, strove; contended. DIS' LO CA TED, out of joint; disjointed. AM' PU TA TED, cut off.

THE LAST CRUISE OF THE MONITOR.

GREENVILLE M. WEEKS.

1. On the afternoon of December 29th, 1862, she put on steam, and, in tow of the "Rhode Island," passed Fortress Monroe, and out to sea. As we gradually passed out, the wind freshened somewhat; but the sun went down in glorious clouds of purple and crimson, and the night was fair and calm above us, though, in the interior of our little vessel, the air had already begun to lose its freshness. We suffered more or less from its closeness through the night, and woke in the morning to find it heavy with impurity, from the breaths of some sixty persons, composing the officers and crew.

2. Sunshine found us on deck, enjoying pure air, and watching the east. During the night we had passed Cape Henry, and now, at dawn, found ourselves on the ocean,--the land only a blue line in the distance. A few more hours, and that had vanished. No sails were visible; and the Passaic, which we had noticed the evening before, was now out of sight. The morning and afternoon passed quietly; we spent most of our time on deck, on account of the confined air below, and, being on a level with the sea, with the spray dashing over us occasionally, amused ourselves with noting its shifting hues and forms, from the deep green of the first long roll, to the foam-crest and prismatic tints of the falling wave.

3. As the afternoon advanced, the freshening wind, the thickening clouds, and the increasing roll of the sea, gave those most accustomed to ordinary ship-life, some new experiences. The little vessel plunged through the rising waves, instead of riding them, and, as they increased in violence, lay, as it were, under their crests, which washed over her continually; so that, even when we considered ourselves safe, the appearance was that of a vessel sinking.

4. "I'd rather go to sea in a diving-bell!" said one, as the waves dashed over the pilot-house, and the little craft seemed buried in water. "Give me an oyster-scow!" cried another,--"any thing! only let it be _wood_, and something that will float _over_, instead of _under_ the water!" Still she plunged on; and about 6:30 P.M., we made Cape Hatteras; in half an hour we had rounded the point. A general hurrah went up,--"Hurrah for the first iron-clad that ever rounded Cape Hatteras! Hurrah for the little boat that is first in every thing!"

5. At half-past seven, a heavy shower fell, lasting about twenty minutes. At this time the gale increased; black, heavy clouds covered the sky, through which the moon glittered fitfully, allowing us to see in the distance a long line of white, plunging foam rushing toward us,--sure indication, to a sailor's eye, of a stormy time. A gloom overhung every thing; the banks of cloud seemed to settle around us; the moan of the ocean grew louder and more fearful. Still our little boat pushed doggedly on: victorious through all, we thought that here, too, she would conquer, though the beating waves sent shudders through her whole frame.

6. An hour passed; the air below, which had all day been increasing in closeness, was now almost stifling; but our men lost no courage. Some sang as they worked; and the cadence of their voices, mingling with the roar of waters, sounded like a defiance to Ocean. Some stationed themselves on top of the turret, and a general enthusiasm filled all breasts, as huge waves, twenty feet high, rose up on all sides, hung suspended for a moment like jaws open to devour, and then, breaking, gnashed over in foam from side to side.

7. Those of us new to the sea, and not apprehending our peril, hurrahed for the largest wave; but the captain and one or two others, old sailors, knowing its power, grew momentarily more and more--anxious, feeling, with a dread instinctive to the sailor, that, in case of extremity, no wreck yet known to ocean, could be so hopeless as this. Solid iron from keelson to turret-top, clinging to any thing for safety, if the "Monitor" should go down, would only insure a share in her fate. No mast., no spar, no floating thing, to meet the outstretched hand in the last moment.

8. The sea gathered force from each attack. Thick and fast came the blows on the iron mail of the "Monitor," and still the brave little vessel held her own, until, at half-past eight, the engineer, faithful to the end, reported a leak. The pumps were instantly set in motion, and we watched their progress with an intense interest. She had seemed to us like an old-time knight, in armor, battling against fearful odds, but still holding his ground. We who watched, when the blow came which made the strong man reel and the life-blood spout, felt our hearts faint within us; then, again, ground was gained, and the fight went on, the water lowering somewhat under the laboring pumps.

9. From nine to ten it kept pace with them. From ten to eleven the sea increased in violence, the waves now dashing entirely over the turret, blinding the eyes, and causing quick catchings of the breath, as they swept against us. At ten the engineer had reported the leak as gaining on us; at half-past ten, with several pumps in constant motion, one of which threw out three thousand gallons a minute, the water was rising rapidly, and nearing the fires. When these were reached, the vessel's doom was sealed; for, with their extinction, the pumps must cease, and all hope of keeping the "Monitor" above water more than an hour or two, expired.

10. Our knight had received his death-blow, and lay struggling and helpless under the power of a stronger than he. A consultation was held, and, not without a conflict of fueling, it was decided that signals of distress should be made. Ocean claimed our little vessel, and her trembling frame and failing fire proved she would soon answer his call; yet a pang went through us, as we thought of the first iron-clad lying alone at the bottom of this stormy sea, her guns silenced, herself a useless mass of metal. Each quiver of her strong frame seemed to plead with us not to abandon her.

11. The work she _had_ done, the work she _was_ to do, rose before us: might there not be a possibility of saving her yet? Her time could not have come so soon. But we who descended for a moment to the cabin, knew, by the rising-water through which we waded, that the end was near. Small time was there for regrets. Rockets were thrown up, and answered by the "Rhode Island," whose brave men prepared at once to lower boats, though, in that wild sea, it was almost madness.

12. The "Monitor" had been attached to the "Rhode Island" by two hawsers, one of which had parted at about seven P.M. The other remained firm; but now it was necessary it should be cut. How was that possible, when every wave washed clean over the deck? What man could reach it alive? "Who'll cut the hawser?" shouted Captain Bankhead. Acting master Stodder volunteered, and was followed by another. Holding by one hand to the ropes at her side, they cut through, by many blows of the hatchet, the immense rope which united the vessels. Stodder returned in safety, but his brave companion was washed over, and went down.

13. Meanwhile the boat launched from the "Rhode Island," had started, manned by a crew of picked men. A mere heroic impulse could not have accomplished this most noble deed. For hours they had watched the raging sea. Their captain and _they_ knew the danger; every man who entered that boat, did it at the peril of his life; and yet all were ready. Are not such acts as these convincing proofs of the divinity of human nature'? We watched her with straining eyes; for few thought she could live to reach us. She neared; we were sure of her, thank Heaven!

14. In this interval, the cut hawser had become entangled in the paddle-wheel of the "Rhode Island," and she drifted down upon us; we, not knowing this fact, supposed her coming to our assistance; but a moment undeceived us. The launch sent to our relief was now between us and her,--too near for safety. The steamer bore swiftly down, stern first, upon our starboard quarter. "_Keep off! keep off!_" we cried, and then first saw she was helpless.

15. Even as we looked, the devoted boat was caught between the steamer and the iron-clad,--a sharp sound of crushing wood was heard,--thwarts, oars, and splinters flew in air,--the boat's crew leaped to the "Monitor's" deck, Death stared us in the face; our iron prow must go through the Rhode Island's side,--and then an end to all. One awful moment we held our breath,--then the hawser was cleared,--the steamer moved off, as it were, step by step, first one, then another, till a ship's length lay between us, and then we breathed freely.

16. But the boat!--had she gone to the bottom, carrying brave souls with her? No; there she lay, beating against our iron sides; but still, though bruised and broken, a lifeboat to us. There was no hasty scramble for life when it was found she floated,--all held back. The men kept steady on at their work of bailing,--only those leaving, and in the order named, whom the captain bade save themselves. They descended from the turret to the deck with mingled fear and hope, for the waves tore from side to side, and the coolest head and bravest heart could not guaranty safety. Some were washed over as they left the turret, and, with a vain clutch at the iron deck, a wild throwing up of the arms, went down, their death-cry ringing in the ears of their companions.

17. The boat sometimes held her place by the "Monitor's" side, then was dashed hopelessly out of reach, rising and falling on the waves. A sailor would spring from the deck to reach her, to be seen for a moment in mid-air, and then, as she rose, fall into her. So she gradually filled up; but some poor souls who sought to reach her, failed, even as they touched her receding sides, and went down. We had a little messenger-boy, the special charge of one of our sailors, and the pet of all; he must inevitably have been lost, but for the care of his adopted father, who, holding him firmly in his arms, escaped, as by a miracle, being washed overboard, but finally succeeded in placing him safely in the boat.

18. The last but one to make the desperate venture, was the surgeon; he leaped from the deck, at the very instant when the boat was being swept away by the merciless sea. Making one final effort, he threw his body forward as he fell, striking across the boat's side so violently, it was thought some of his ribs must be broken. "_Haul the Doctor in!_" shouted Lieutenant Greene, perhaps remembering how, a little time back, he himself, almost gone down in the unknown sea, had been "hauled in" by a quinine rope flung him by the Doctor. Stout sailor-arms pulled him in; one more sprang to a place in her, and the boat, now full, pushed off,--in a sinking condition, it is true, but still bearing hope with her, for _she was wood_.

19. Over the waves we made little progress, though pulling for life. The men stuffed their pea-jackets into the leaks, and bailed incessantly. We neared the "Rhode Island;" but now a new peril appeared. Eight down upon our center, borne by the might of the rushing water, came the whale-boat sent to rescue others from the iron-clad. We barely floated; if she struck us with her bows full on us, we must go to the bottom. One sprang, and, as she neared, with outstretched arms, met and turned her course. She passed against us, and his hand, caught between the two boats, was crushed, and the arm, wrenched from its socket, fell a helpless weight against his side; but life remained. We were saved, and an arm was a small price to pay for life.