3. Soon the mate came forward again, and gave an order, in a low tone, to clew up the main top-gallant sail; and so impressive were the awe and silence that the clew-lines and bunt-lines were hauled up without any singing out at the ropes. An English lad and myself went up to furl it, and we had just got the bunt up, when the mate called out to us something, we did not hear what; but, supposing it to be an order to bear-a-hand, we hurried and made all fast, and came down, feeling our way among the rigging.

4. When we got down we found all hands looking aloft, and there, directly over where we had been standing, upon the main top-gallant mast-head, was a ball of light, which the sailors call a corposant (corpo santo), and which the mate had called out to us to look at. They were all watching it carefully, for sailors have a notion that if the corposant rises in the rigging it is a sign of fair weather, but if it comes lower down there I will be a storm.

5. Unfortunately, as an omen, it came down, and showed itself on the top-gallant yard-arm. We were off the yard in good season, for it is held a fatal sign to have the pale light of the corposant thrown upon one's face. As it was, the English lad did not feel comfortable at having had it so near him, and directly over his head.

6. In a few minutes it disappeared, and showed itself again on the fore top-gallant yard, and, after playing about for some time, disappeared once more, when the man on the forecastle pointed to it upon the flying-jibboom end. But our attention was drawn from watching this by the falling of some drops of rain, and by a perceptible increase of the darkness, which seemed suddenly to add a new shade of blackness to the night.

7. In a few minutes, low, grumbling thunder was heard, and some random flashes of lightning came from the south-west. Every sail was taken in but the topcails; still, no squall appeared to be coming. A few puffs lifted the topsails, but they fell again to the mast, and all was as still as ever. A moment more, and a terrific flash and peal broke simultaneously upon us, and a cloud appeared to open directly over our heads, and let down the water in one body, like a falling ocean.

8. We stood motionless, and almost stupefied; yet nothing had been struck. Peal after peal rattled over our heads, with a sound which seemed actually to stop the breath in the body, and the "speedy gleams" kept the whole ocean in a glare of light. The violent fall of rain lasted but a few minutes, and was followed by occasional drops and showers; but the lightning continued incessant for several hours, breaking the midnight darkness with irregular and blinding flashes.

9. During all this time there was not a breath stirring, and we lay motionless, like a mark to be shot at, probably the only object on the surface of the ocean for miles and miles.

10. A ship is not often injured by lightning, for the electricity is separated by the great number of points she presents, and the quantity of iron which she has scattered in various parts. The electric fluid ran over our anchors, topsail sheets, and ties, yet no harm was done to us, and when, at seven bells, the customary All the larboard watch, ahoy!" brought us on deck, it was a fine, clear, sunny morning, the ship going leisurely along, with a soft breeze and all sail set.

66

R. H. DANA, Jr.

LESSON VII.

"NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP."

G

OLDEN head, so lowly bending,

Little feet so white and bare,
Dewy eyes, half shut, half opened,
Lisping out her evening prayer.

2. "Now I lay-repeat it, darling"-
"Lay me," lisped the tiny lips.
Of my daughter, kneeling, bending,
O'er the folded finger tips.

3. "Down to sleep,' ""to sleep," she murmured, And the curly head bent low;

"I pray the Lord"-I gently added,
66 You can say it all, I know."

4. "Pray the Lord," the sound came faintly,
Fainter still-"my soul to keep;"

5.

6.

Then the tired head fairly nodded,
And the child was fast asleep.

But the dewy eyes half opened,

When I clasped her to my breast,
And her dear voice softly whispered,
"Mamma, God knows all the rest."

Oh! the rapture, sweet, unbroken,
Of the soul who wrote that prayer!
Children's myriad voices floating
Up to Heaven, record it there.

7. If, of all that has been written,

I could choose what might be mine,
It should be that child's petition

Rising to the Throne Divine.

LESSON VIII.

BEAUTIFUL WILLAMETTE.

ΑΝΟΝ.

Onward ever,

Lovely river,

Softly calling to the sea;

Time that scars us,

Maims and mars us,

Leaves no track or trench on thee!

2. Spring's green witchery is weaving
Braid and border for thy side;
Grace forever haunts thy journey,
Beauty dimples on thy tide.
Through the purple gates of morning,
Now thy roseate ripples dance;
Golden, then, when day departing,
On thy waters trails his lance;
Waltzing, flashing,

Tinkling, plashing,

Limpid, volatile and free-
Always hurried

To be buried

In the bitter, moon-mad sea.

3. In thy crystal deeps, inverted,
Swings a picture of the sky,

Like those wavering hopes of Aidenn
Dimly in our dreams that lie;
Clouded often, drowned in turmoil,
Faint and lovely, far away-
Wreathing sunshine on the morrow,
Breathing fragrance round to-day.
Love would wander

Here and ponder-

Hither poetry would dream;

Life's old questions,

Sad suggestions,

"Whence and whither?" throng thy stream.