Sanders' Union Fourth Reader Part 56

1. Drop follows drop, and swells With rain the sweeping river; Word follows word, and tells A truth that lives forever.

2. Flake follows flake, like sprites Whose wings the winds dissever; Thought follows thought, and lights The realm of mind forever.

3. Beam follows beam to cheer, The cloud a bolt might s.h.i.+ver; Throb follows throb, and fear Gives place to joy forever.

4. The drop, the flake, the beam, Teach us a lesson ever; The word, the thought, the dream Impress the soul forever.

IX.

PLEASURE IN ACQUIRING KNOWLEDGE.

CAROLINE F. ORNE.

1. Note the ecstatic joy of the student, who has labored long over a problem or proposition, but finally comes to a logical conclusion; who has struggled with the misty darkness of his own mind, for a clear view of some difficult subject, until the clouds, one after another, have dispersed, and he beholds, with his mental vision, in bright and glorious light, the conception for which he labored. Think you he would exchange his joys for the pleasures of sense'? It is of a higher and more enn.o.bling character, and not to be bartered for paltry wealth.

2. What dignity and self-respect invest the man of thought! His very looks bespeak of mind. He is approached with deference, as a being of higher order in the scale of intelligence,--as one who has a right to command and be obeyed. For what moves mind, but mind? A strong intellect, coming in contact with one of less energy, will as naturally move it, as superior physical strength will overcome the weaker.

X.

WHAT IS FAME?

MOTHERWELL.

What is glory'? What is fame'?

The echo of a long-lost name'; A breath', an idle hour's brief talk'; The shadow of an arrant naught'; A flower that blossoms for a day', Dying next morrow'; A stream that hurries on its way, Singing of sorrow'; A fortune that to lose were gain'; A word of praise, perchance of blame'; The wreck of a time-bandied name'-- _Ay' this is glory'! this is fame'!_

XI.

CULTIVATED INTELLECT.

Ah! well do we all know the worth of intelligence, the power of knowledge, and the beauty and glory of wisdom. It is _educated manhood_ that wakes up the sleeping soil, covers the earth with good, that gathers in the golden harvest, that clothes the naked, that feeds the hungry. It is the _cultivated mind_ that applies the strength of the ox and the fleetness of the horse; that bridges the river, that turns to use the flying winds, that makes the lightning its swift messenger, that makes beautiful palaces of dull clay, that rouses the dead ore to active life, that covers the sea with s.h.i.+ps, and the land with mighty engines of wealth. It is the _developed intellect_ that flies through the upper air, that mingles with the stars, that follows the moon in her course, that overtakes the constellations in their orbits, that weighs the sun, that measures the distance to the polar star. It is the _enlightened soul_ that wors.h.i.+ps G.o.d.

XII.

G.o.d'S WORKS ATTEST HIS GREATNESS.

MRS. OPIE.

1. There's not a leaf within the bower; There's not a bird upon the tree; There's not a dew-drop on the flower, But bears the impress, Lord, of Thee.

2. Thy hand the varied leaf designed, And gave the bird its thrilling tone; Thy power the dewdrop's tints combined, Till like the diamond's blaze they shone.

3. Yes, dewdrops, leaves, and buds, and all The smallest, like the greatest things,-- The sea's vast s.p.a.ce, the earth's wide ball, Alike proclaim Thee King of kings.

4. But man alone to bounteous Heaven, Thanksgiving's conscious strains can raise; To favored man alone 'tis given To join the angelic choir in praise!

LESSON LXXVII.

MO NOT' O NOUS, dull; uniform.

HAR POON', barbed spear.

AG' I TA TED, disturbed.

RE VER' BER ATES, rebounds; re-echoes.

WRITHES, twists, or or turns in agony.

CON TOR' TIONS, twistings; writhings.

VE LOC' I TY, swiftness.

IG NITES', takes fire.

FRIC' TION, rubbing together.

COILS, winds into a ring.

PRO JECT' ED, thrown out or forward.

VO CIF' ER A TED, shouted.

IN FU' RI A TED, enraged.

UN RE LENT' ING, unfeeling.

CON VUL' SIONS, violent spasms.

REN COUN' TER, fight; conflict.

CAPTURE OF THE WHALE.

1. Let the reader suppose himself on the deck of a South-seaman, cruising in the North Pacific ocean. He may be musing over some past event, the s.h.i.+p may be sailing gently along over the smooth ocean, every thing around solemnly still, with the sun pouring its intense rays with dazzling brightness. Suddenly the monotonous quietude is broken by an animated voice from the masthead, exclaiming, _"There he spouts!"_

2. The captain starts on deck in an instant, and inquires _"Where away?"_ but, perhaps, the next moment every one aloft and on deck, can perceive an enormous whale lying about a quarter of a mile from the s.h.i.+p, on the surface of the sea, having just come up to breathe,--his large "hump" projecting three feet out of the water. At the end of every ten seconds, the spout is seen rus.h.i.+ng from the fore part of his enormous head, followed by the cry of every one on board, who join in the chorus of _"There again!"_ keeping time with the duration of the spout.

3. But, while they have been looking, a few seconds have expired. They rush into the boats, which are directly lowered to receive them; and in two minutes from the time of first observing the whale, three or four boats are down, and are darting through the water with their utmost speed toward their intended victim, perhaps accompanied with a song from the headsman, who urges the quick and powerful plying of the oar, with the common whaling chant of

"Away, my boys, away, my boys, 'tis time for us to go."

4. But, while they are rus.h.i.+ng along, the whale is breathing; they have yet, perhaps, some distance to pull before they can get a chance of striking him with the harpoon. His "spoutings are nearly out," he is about to descend, or he hears the boats approaching. The few sailors left on board, and who are anxiously watching the whale and the gradual approach of the boats, exclaim, _"Ah, he is going down!"_ Yet he spouts again, but slowly, the water is seen agitated around him; the spectators on board with breathless anxiety think they perceive him rising in preparation for his descent. _"He will be lost!"_ they exclaim; for the boats are not yet near enough to strike him, and the men are still bending their oars in each boat with all their strength, to claim the honor of the first blow with the harpoon.

5. The bow-boat has the advantage of being the nearest to the whale; the others, for fear of disturbing the unconscious monster, are now ordered to drop astern. One more spout is seen slowly curling forth,--it is his last; but the boat shoots rapidly alongside of the gigantic creature.

_"Peak your oars!"_ exclaims the mate, and directly they flourish in the air; the glistening harpoon is seen above the head of the harpooner. In an instant it is darted with unerring force and aim, and is buried deeply in the side of the huge animal. It is "socket up;" that is, it is buried in his flesh up to the socket which admits the handle or pole of the harpoon.

6. A cheer from those in the boats, and from the seamen on board, reverberates along the still deep at the same moment. The sea, which a moment before was unruffled, now becomes lashed into foam by the immense strength of the wounded whale, which, with its vast tail, strikes in all directions at his enemies. Now his enormous head rises high into the air, then his flukes are seen las.h.i.+ng everywhere, his huge body writhes in violent contortions from the agony the harpoon has inflicted. The water all around him is a ma.s.s of foam, and the sounds of the blows from his tail on the surface of the sea, can be heard for miles!

7. _"Stern all!"_ cries the headsman; but the whale suddenly disappears; he has "sounded;" the line is running through the groove at the head of the boat, with lightning-like velocity; it smokes; it ignites from the heat produced by the friction; but the headsman, cool and collected, pours water upon it as it pa.s.ses. But an oar is now held up in their boat; it signifies that their line is rapidly running out; two hundred fathoms are nearly exhausted; up flies one of the other boats, and "bends on" another line, just in time to save that which was nearly lost.

8. But still the monster descends; he is seeking to rid himself of his enemies by descending deeply into the dark and unknown depths of the vast ocean. Two more lines are exhausted,--he is _six hundred fathoms deep! "Stand ready to bend on!"_ cries the mate to the fourth boat; (for sometimes they take the whole four lines away with them,--_eight hundred fathoms!!_) but, it is not required, he is rising. _"Haul in the slack!"_ observes the headsman, while the boat-steerer coils it again carefully into the tubs as it is drawn up.

9. The whale is now seen approaching the surface; the gurgling and bubbling water which rises, proclaims that he is near; his nose starts from the sea; the rus.h.i.+ng spout is projected high and suddenly, from his agitation. The slack of the line is now coiled in the tubs, and those in the fast boat, haul themselves gently toward the whale. The boat-steerer places the headsman close to the fin of the trembling animal, who immediately buries his long lance in the vitals of the leviathan, while, at the same moment, those in one of the other boats, dart another harpoon into his opposite side. Then, _"Stern all!"_ is again vociferated, and the boats shoot rapidly away from the danger.

10. Mad with the agony which he endures from these fresh attacks, the infuriated "sea monster" rolls over and over, and coils an amazing length of line around him. He rears his enormous head, and, with wide-expanded jaws, snaps at every thing around him. He rushes at the boats with his head,--they are propelled before him with vast swiftness, and sometimes utterly destroyed.

11. He is lanced again,--and his pain appears more than he can bear. He throws himself, in his agony, completely out of his element; the boats are violently jerked, by which one of the lines is snapped asunder; at the same time the other boat is upset, and its crew are swimming for their lives. The whale is now free! he pa.s.ses along the surface with remarkable swiftness, "going head out;" but the two boats that have not yet "fastened," and are fresh and free, now give chase.