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Johnson, Dr., and Carlyle

John Burroughs

142

Knight, the Yeoman, and the Prioress, The,

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On the Receipt of his Mother's Picture
Orphan Child, The

People at Wuthering Heights. The
Pet-Name, The

Charlotte Bronte

Picture of Wild Nature on the Mississippi, A,

Pied Piper of Hamelin, The

Châteaubriand

124

Cowper 315

172

238

55

58

Robert Burns

122

Thomas Carlyle

199

Cowper

296

9

Emily Bronté

26

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

60

233

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Wilkie Collins

263

Charles F. Browne

40

Prisoner of Chillon. The

Pilgrims Progress, The Author's Apology for His,

Protest against Pharisaism, A

Red, Red Rose, A

Resignation

Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner, The

Rochester's Serenade

Rome. To

Rustic Scene. A

Sancho Panza in His İsland

Robert Burns

Thomas Chatterton

S. T. Coleridge
Charlotte Bronté

Lord Byron

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Charlotte Bronté

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S. T. Coleridge
Cervantes

259

217

Scots Wha Hae

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Self-Control. On

Lord Chesterfield

247

She Walks in Beauty

Lord Byron

149

Shipwreck, The

Lord Byron

175

Sleep, The

Elizabeth

Barrett Browning

56

Star Spangled Banner Scene, The

George W. Cable

177

Edward Bulwer-Lytton

101

Tears

Teufelsdrockh's Night View of the City.

Thanatopsis
Tiger. The
Venice
Vesuvius

Waterfowl. To a
Weather-Wisdom
Women's Rights
Work

Thomas Carlyle 204

William Cullen Bryant

William Blake
Lord Byron
Edward Bulwer

82

6

168

95

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• William Cullen Bryant
John Burroughs

Cha les F. Browne

WILLIAM BLAKE

WILLIAM BLAKE, painter, engraver and poet, born in London, 1757; died 1827. He invented a new process of engraving and many of his own sketches he transferred to the plate. In his later years he produced a number of poems of striking originality.

L

THE LAMB

ITTLE lamb, who made thee?

Dost thou know who made thee,
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?

Little lamb, I'll tell thee;
Little lamb, I'll tell thee:
He is called by thy name,
For He calls Himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and He is mild,
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb,
We are called by His name.
Little lamb, God bless thee!
Little lamb, God bless thee?

VOL. II

5

T

THE TIGER

NIGER, tiger, bùrning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deep or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And, when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?

In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears And watered heaven with their tears, Did he smile His work to see?

Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright

In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

CHARLOTTE BRONTÉ

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CHARLOTTE BRONTÉ, novelist, born in Thornton, England, in 1816; died at Haworth in 1855. Her first books were written under the name of "Currer Bell." She wrote "Shirley in 1849, and her real name became at once known to the reading public, as many of the incidents of the story were recognized. "Jane Eyre," although her first effort, ranks as her best, and has taken its place among English classics.

A PROTEST

AGAINST

PHARISAISM

(From Preface to Second Edition of "Jane Eyre")

O that class in whose eyes whatever is unusual

Tthat chas, whose care detect in eis protest

against bigotry-that parent of crime-an insult to piety, that regent of God on earth, I would suggest to such doubters certain obvious distinctions; I would remind them of certain simple truths.

Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last. To pluck the mask from the face of the Pharisee, is not to lift an impious hand to the crown of thorns. These things and deeds are diametrically opposed; they are as distinct as vice from virtue. Men too often confound them: they should not be confounded: appearance should not be mistaken for truth; narrow human doctrines, that only tend to elate and magnify a few, should not be substituted for the world-redeeming creed of Christ. There is-I repeat it—a difference; and

it is a good, and not a bad action to mark broadly and clearly the line of separation between them.

The world may not like to see these ideas dissevered, for it has been accustomed to blend them; finding it convenient to make external show pass for sterling worth-to let whitewashed walls vouch for clean shrines. It may hate him who dares to scrutinize and expose-to raise the gilding, and show base metal under it—to penetrate the sepulchre, and reveal charnel relics: but hate as it will, it is indebted to him.

Ahab did not like Micaiah, because he never prophesied good concerning him, but evil: probably he liked the sycophant son of Chenaanah better; yet might Ahab have escaped a bloody death, had he but stopped his ears to flattery, and opened them to faithful counsel.

There is a man in our own days whose words are not framed to tickle delicate ears; who, to my thinking, comes before the great ones of society much as the son of Imlah came before the throned kings of Judah and Israel; and who speaks truth as deep, with a power as prophet-like and as vital— a mien as dauntless and as daring. Is the satirist of “Vanity Fair” admired in high places? I cannot tell; but I think if some of those amongst whom he hurls the Greek-fire of his sarcasm, and over whom he flashes the levin-brand of his denunciation, were to take his warnings in time-they or their seed might yet escape a fatal Ramoth-Gilead.

Why have I alluded to this man? I have alluded to him, reader, because I think I see in him an intellect profounder and more unique than his contemporaries have yet recognized; because I regard him as the first social regenerator of the day-as the very master of that working corps who would restore to rectitude the warped system of things.

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