More sacred, and sequestered, though but feigned,
Pan, or Sylvanus, never slept ;' nor Nymph,
Nor Faunus, haunted.

12. Thus, at their shady lodge arrived, both stood,
Both turned, and under open sky adored
The God that made sky, air, earth, and heaven,
Which they beheld; the moon's resplendent globe,
And starry pole : “ Thou also mad'st the night,
Maker Omnipotent! and thou the day,
Which we, in our appointed work employed,
Have finished, happy in our mutual help,
And mutual love, the crown of all our bliss
Ordained by thee; and this delicious place,
For us too large;" where thy abundance wants
Partakers, and uncropped falls to the ground.

13. “But thou hast promised from us two a race
To fill the earth, who shall with us extol
Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake,
And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep.”

LESSON XXIII.

*

The Dream of Eve. MILTON.
1. WHEN Adam waked, so customed, for his sleep
Was airy-light, from pure digestion bred, *
His wonder was to find unwakened Eve,
With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek,
As through unquiet rest. He

* *
Her soft hand touching, whispered thus : "Awake,
My fairest, my espoused, my latest found,
Heaven's last best gift, my ever-new delight!
Awake!

2. Such whispering waked her, but with startled eye On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake :

O sole, in whom my thoughts find all repose,
My glory, my perfection! glad I see
Thy face and morn returned; for I this night'
(Such night till this I never passed) have dreamed
If dreamed not, as I oft am wont, of thee,
Works of day past, or morrow's next design,

*

But of offense and trouble, which my

mind Knew never till this irksome night.

3. “Methought
Close at mine-ear one called me forth to walk,
With gentle voice; I thought it thine; it said,
Why sleep'st thou, Eve? now is the pleasant time,
The cool, the silent, save where silence yields
To the night-warbling bird that now awake
Tunes sweetest his love-labored. song.

4. “Now reigns
Full-orbed the moon, and with more pleasing light
Shadowy sets off the face of things; in vain,
If none regard ; heaven wakes with all his eyes,
Whom to behold but thee, nature's desire ?
In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment
Attracted by the beauty still to gaze.

5. “ I rose as at thy call, but found thee not:
To find thee I directed then my walk;
And on, methought, alone I passed through ways
That brought me on a sudden to the tree
Of interdicted knowledge : fair it seemed,
Much fairer to my fancy than by day;
And, as I wondering looked, beside it stood
One shaped and winged like one of those from heaven
By us oft seen.

6. “ His dewy locks distilled
Ambrosia ; on that tree he also gazed ;
And, O fair plant,' said he, with fruit surcharged,
Deigns none to ease thy load and taste thy sweet?
Nor God, nor man? is knowledge so despised?
Or envy, or what reserve, forbids to taste ?
Forbid who will, none shall from me with hold
Longer thy offered good ; — why else set here?'

7. “ This said, he paused not, but with vent'rous arm
He plucked, he tasted; me damp horror chilled,
At such bold words, vouched with a deed so bold :
But he thus, overjoyed : O fruit divine!
Sweet of thyself, but much more sweet thus cropped,
Forbidden here, it seems as only fit
For gods, yet able to make gods of men :
And why not gods of men, since good, the more
Communicated, more abundant grows,
The author not impaired, but honored more?

8. “• Here, happy creature, fair angelic Eve,

Partake thou also; happy though thou art,
Happier thou mayst be, worthier canst not be :
Take this, and- be henceforth among the gods,
Thyself a goddess, not to earth confined,
But sometimes in the air, as we sometimes
Ascend to heaven, by merit thine, and see
What life the gods live there, and such live thou.'

9. “ So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held,
Even to my mouth of that same fruit held part
Which he had plucked; the pleasant savory smell
So quickened appetite, that I, methought,
Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds
With him I flew, and underneath beheld
The earth outstretched immense, a prospect wide
And various.

10. “Wondering at my flight and change
To this high exaltation, suddenly
My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk down,
And fell asleep; but oh, how glad I waked
To find this but a dream !” Thus Eve her night
Related, and thus Adam answered, sad :

*
*
*

*
11. “Best image of myself and dearer half,
The trouble of thy thoughts this night in sleep
Affects me equally; nor can I like
This uncouth dream, of evil sprung, I fear;
Yet evil whence? in thee can harbor none,

Created pure.

12. “ But know, that in the soul Are

many lesser faculties, that serve
Reason as chief; among these Fancy next
Her office holds ; of all external things,
Which the five watchful senses represent,
She forms imaginations, airy shapes,
Which Reason, joining or disjoining, frames
All what we affirm or what deny, and call
Our knowledge or opinion; then retires
Into her private cell, when nature rests.

13. “Oft in her absence mimic Fancy wakes
To imitate her; but, misjoining shapes,
Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams,
Ill matching words and deeds long past or late.
Some such resemblances methinks I find
Of our last evening's talk in this thy dream,

But with addition strange : yet be not sad:
Evil into the mind of God or man
May come and go, so unapproved, and leave
No spot or blame behind : which gives me hope,
That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream,
Waking thou never wilt consent to do.

14. “ Be not disheartened, then, nor cloud those looks,
That wont to be more cheerful and serene
Than when fair morning first smiles on the world ;
And let us to our fresh employments rise,
Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers,
That open now their choicest bosomed smells,
Reserved from night, and kept for thee in store.”

15. So cheered he his fair spouse, and she was cheered;
But silently a gentle tear let fall
From either eye, and wiped them with her hair;
Two other precious drops, that ready stood,
Each in their crystal sluice, he ere they fell
Kissed, as the gracious signs of sweet remorse
And pious awe, that feared to have offended.

16. So all was cleared, and to the field they haste.
But first, from under shady arborous roof,
Soon as they forth were come to open sight
Of day-spring, and the sun,

*
Lowly they bowed adoring, and began
Their orisons, each morning duly paid
In various style.

17. “ These are thy glorious works, Parent of Good !
Almighty! thine this universal frame,
Thus wondrous fair ; thyself how wondrous, then!
Unspeakable, who sitt’st above these heavens
To us invisible, or dimly seen
In these thy lowest works ; yet these declare
Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.
18. “Speak, ye who best can tell

, ye sons of light,
Angels; for ye behold him, and with songs
And choral symphonies, day without night,
Circle his throne rejoicing ; ye in heaven:
On earth join all ye creatures, to extol
Him first, him last, him midst, and without end."

* 19. So prayed they, innocent; and to their thoughts Firm peace recovered soon, and wonted calm.

*

ners.

LESSON XXIV. Chivalry* — Description of a Tilt. Scotr. [This singular institution, in which valor, gallantry and religion, were so strangely blended, was wonderfully adapted to the taste and genius of martial nobles; and its effects were soon visible in their man

War was carried on with less ferocity when humanity came to be deemed the ornament of knighthood, no less than courage. More gentle and polished manners were introduced when courtesy was recommended as the most amiable of knightly virtues. Violence and oppression decreased when it was reckoned meritorious to check and to punish them. A scrupulous adherence to truth, with the most religious attention to fulfill every engagement, became the distinguishing characteristic of a gentleman, because chivalry was regarded as the school of honor, and inculcated the most delicate sensibility with respect to those points. The admiration of these qualities, together with the high distinctions and prerogatives conferred on knighthood in every part of Europe, inspired persons of noble birth, on some occasions, with a species of military fanaticism, and led them to extravagant enterprises. But they deeply imprinted on their minds the principles of generosity and honor. These were strengthened by everything that can affect the senses, or touch the heart. The wild exploits of those romantic knights who sallied forth in quest of adventures are well known, and have been treated with proper ridicule. The political and

permanent effects of the spirit of chivalry have been less observed. Perhaps the humanity which accompanies all the operations of war, the refinements of gallantry, and the point of honor, – the three chief circumstances which distinguish modern from ancient manners, - may be ascribed in a great measure to this institution, which has appeared whimsical to superficial observers, but by its effects has proved of great benefit to mankind. The sentiments which chivalry inspired had a wonderful influence on manners and conduct during the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries. They were so deeply rooted that they continued to operate after the vigor and reputation of the institution itself began to decline.]

- ROBERTSON.

1. The Passage of Arms, as it was called, which was to take place at Ashby, in the County of Leicester, as champions