UN SPOT' TED, pure; unstained.FAL' TER, fail.TRA' CER Y, traces; impressions.IM' PRESS, mark: stamp.DO MIN' ION, authority; predominance.SHRINK, withdraw.PUR SU' ING, following.STERN ER, harsher; more rigid.DE FY', dare; challenge.WHO' SO, any person whatever.TO' KEN, sign; indication.BROTH' ER HOOD, fraternity.
HOME JOURNAL.
1. Write, mother, write!A new, unspotted book of life before thee,Thine is the hand to trace upon its pagesThe first few characters, to live in glory,Or live in shame, through long, unending ages!Write, mother, write!Thy hand, though woman's, must not faint nor falter:The lot is on thee,—nerve thee then with care,—Amother's tracerytime may never alter;Be its first impress, then, the breath of prayer!Write, mother, write!2. Write, father, write!Take thee a pen plucked from an eagle's pinion,And writeimmortal actionsfor thy son;Teach him that man forgets man's high dominion,Creeping on earth, leavinggreat deedsundone!Write, father, write!Leave on his life-book a fond father's blessing,To shield him 'mid temptation, toil, and sin.And he shall go to glory's field, possessingStrength to contend, and confidence to win.Write, father, write!3. Write, sister, write!Nay, shrink not, for a sister's love is holy!Write words the angels whisper in thine ears,—No bud of sweet affection, howe'er lowly,But planted here, will bloom in after years.Write, sister, write!Something to cheer him, his rough way pursuing,For manhood's lot is sterner far than ours;He may not pause,—he must be up and doing,Whilst thou sitt'st idly, dreaming among flowers.Write, sister, write!4. Write, brother, write!Strike a bold blow upon those kindred pages,—Write; shoulder to shoulder, brother, we will go;Heart linked to heart, though wild the conflict rages,We will defy the battle and the foe.Write, brother, write!We who have trodden boyhood's path together,Beneath the summer's sun and winter's sky,What matter if life brings us some foul weather,We may be stronger than adversity!Write, brother, write!5. Fellow immortal, write!One GOD reigns in the Heavens,—there is no other,—Andall mankind are brethren—thus 'tis spoken,—And whoso aids a sorrowing, struggling brother,By kindly word, or deed, or friendly token,Shall win the favor of our heavenly Father,Who judges evil, and rewards the good,And who hath linked the race of man together,In one vast, universal brotherhood!Fellow immortal, write!
QUESTIONS.—1. What may the mother write in the Life-Book? 2. What, the father? 3. What, the sister? 4. What, the brother? 5. What may all write?
ODE, short poem.PA TER' NAL, coming by inheritance.AT TIRE', clothing; raiment.UN CON CERN' ED LY, without care.REC RE A' TION, amusement.IN' NO CENCE, freedom from guilt.MED I TA' TION, contemplation.UN LA MENT' ED, unmourned.
POPE.
Written when the author was twelve years of age.
1. Happy the man whose wish and careA few paternal acres bound,Content to breathe his native airIn his own ground.2. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,Whose flocks supply him with attire;Whose trees in summer yield him shade,In winter fire.3. Blest who can unconcern'dly findHours, days, and years glide soft away,In health of body, peace of mind,Quiet by day.4. Sound sleep by night; study and ease,Together mixed; sweet recreation;And innocence, which most doth pleaseWith meditation.5. Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;Thus unlamented let me die;Steal from the world, and not a stoneTell where I lie.
QUESTIONS.—1. Who, did the writer think, were happy? 2. How did he wish to live and die? 3. Analyse the wordrecreation, (REback; CREATION,act of bringing into life;) act of bringing back to life; a reviving.
AD MI RA' TION, esteem.FRA TER' NAL, brotherly.IN SIG NIF' I CANCE, worthlessness.CRIT' IC AL, perilous.THOR' OUGH LY, completely; fully.COM PRE HEND', understand.CON VIC' TION, strong belief.COM PE TI' TION, strife; rivalry.EM U LA' TION, competition.IN TRIN' SIC AL LY, really; truly.AP PRE' CI ATE, value; esteem.BRAWN, physical strength.PIN' NA CLE, summit; highest point.SIN' U OUS, winding; bending.LE GIT' I MATE, lawful.REQ' UI SITE, necessary.CON SER VA' TION, act of keeping.DE VEL' OP MENT, training.
J.G. HOLLAND.
1. The first great lesson a young man should learn, is, thathe knows nothing;and that the earlier and more thoroughly this lesson is learned, the better it will be for his peace of mind, and his success in life. A young man bred at home, and growing up in the light of parental admiration and fraternal pride, can not readily understand how it is, that every one else can be his equal in talent and acquisition. If bred in the country, he seeks the life of the town, he will very early obtain an idea of his insignificance.
2. This is a critical period in his history. The result of his reasoning will decide his fate. If, at this time, he thoroughly comprehend, and in his soul admit and accept the fact, thathe knows nothingandis nothing;if he bow to the conviction that his mind and his person are but ciphers, and that whatever he isto be, and isto win, must be achieved byhard work, there is abundant hope of him.
3. If, on the contrary, a huge self-conceit still hold possession of him, and he straightens stiffly up to the assertion of his old and valueless self,—or, if he sink discouraged upon the threshold of a life of fierce competitions, and more manly emulations, he might as well be a dead man. The world has no use for such a man, and he has only to retire or be trodden upon.
4. When a young man has thoroughly comprehended the fact thathe knows nothing, and that, intrinsically, he is of butlittle value, the next thing for him to learn is thatthe world cares nothing for him,—that he is the subject of no man's overwhelming admiration and esteem,—that he must take care of himself.
5. If he be a stranger, he will find every man busy with his own affairs, and none to look after him. He will not be noticed until he becomesnoticeable, and he will not become noticeable, until hedoes somethingto prove that he has an absolute value in society. No letter of recommendation will give him this, or ought to give him this. No family connection will give him this, except among those few who think more of blood than brains.
6. Society demands that a young manshall be somebody, not only, but thathe shall prove his right to the title; and it has a right to demand this. Society will not take this matter upon trust,—at least, not for a long time; for it has been cheated too frequently. Society is not very particular what a man does, so that it prove him to be aman: then it will bow to him, and make room for him.
7. There is no surer sign of an unmanly and cowardly spirit, than a vague desire forhelp,—a wish todepend, toleanupon somebody, and enjoy the fruits of the industry of others. There are multitudes of young men who indulge in dreams of help from some quarter, coming in at a convenient moment, to enable them to secure the success in life which they covet. The vision haunts them of some benevolent old gentleman, with a pocket full of money, a trunk full of mortgages and stocks, and a mind remarkably appreciative of merit and genius, who will, perhaps, give or lend them from ten to twenty thousand dollars, with which they will commence and go on swimmingly.
8. To me, one of the most disgusting sights in the world, is that of a young man with healthy blood, broad shoulders, and a hundred and fifty pounds, more or less, of good bone and muscle, standing with his hands in his pockets, longing for help. I admit that there are positions in which the most independent spirit may accept of assistance,—may, in fact, as a choice of evils, desire it; but for a man who is able to help himself, to desire the help of others in the accomplishment of his plans of life, is positive proof that he has received a most unfortunate training, or that there is a leaven of meanness in his composition, that should make him shudder.
9. When, therefore, a young man has ascertained and fully received the fact that he does not know any thing, that the world does not care any thing about him, that what he wins must be won by his own brain and brawn, and that while he holds in his own hands the means of gaining his own livelihood and the objects of his life, he can not receive assistance without compromising his self-respect and selling his freedom, he is in a fair position for beginning life. When a young man becomes aware that only byhis own effortscan he rise into companionship and competition with the sharp, strong, and well-drilled minds around him, he of ready for work, and not before.
10. The next lesson is, that ofpatience, thoroughness in preparation, and contentment with the regular channels of business effort and enterprise. This is, perhaps, one of the most difficult to learn, of all the lessons of life. It is natural for the mind to reach out eagerly for immediate results.
11. As manhood dawns, and the young man catches in its first light the pinnacles of realized dreams, the golden domes of high possibilities, and the purpling hills of great delights, and then looks down upon the narrow, sinuous, long, and dusty path by which others have reached them, he is apt to be disgusted with the passage, and to seek for success through broader channels, by quicker means. Beginning at the very foot of the hill, and working slowly to the top, seems a very discouraging process; and precisely at this point, have thousands of young men made shipwreck of their lives.
12. Let this be understood, then, at starting; that the patient conquest of difficulties, which rise in the regular and legitimate channels of business and enterprise, is not only essential in securing the successes which you seek, but it is essential to that preparation of your mind, requisite for the enjoyment of your successes, and for retaining them when gained. It is the general rule of Providence, the world over, and in all time, that unearned success is a curse. It is the rule of Providence, that the process of earning success, shall be the preparation for its conservation and enjoyment.
13. So, day by day, and week by week; so, month after month, and year after year,work on, and in that process gain strength and symmetry, and nerve and knowledge, that when success, patiently and bravely worked for, shall come, it may find you prepared to receive it and keep it. The development which you will get in this brave and patient labor, will prove itself, in the end, the most valuable of your successes. It will help to make amanof you. It will give you power and self-reliance. It will give you not onlyself-respect, but therespect of your fellows and the public.
QUESTIONS.—1. What is the first lesson a young man should learn? 2. What is the next lesson he should learn? 3. What does society demand of a young man? 4. What is a sure sign of an unmanly and cowardly spirit? 5. When is a young man in a fair position for beginning life? 6. What is a general rule of Providence?
PRE SUMP' TION, arrogance.SOPH' ISTS, professed teachers of wisdom.AC COST' ED, addressed.GEN' IUS, natural aptitude.IN DUC' ED, prevailed upon.PHI LOS' O PHER, lover of wisdom.BAR' BA ROUS, foreign; uncivilized.DIS SUADE', turn away from.EX CESS' IVE. overmuch.ES TEEM' ED, highly regarded.RE TRENCH, lessen; curtail.SU PER' FLU OUS, extravagant; needless.UN DER TAK' ING, engaging in.IN CA PAC' I TY, inability.
[Headnote 1: THE MIS' TO CLES, a celebrated Athenian statesman and military leader, was born about 514 before Christ.]
[Headnote 2: CI' MON, an illustrious Athenian general and statesman, born about the year 510, before Christ. He belonged to the aristocratic party of his time, and contributed to the banishment of Themistocles, the leader of the opposite party. He was also the political opponent of Pericles.]
[Headnote 3: PER' I CLES, an Athenian statesman, born about 495 before Christ. He labored to make Athens the capital of all Greece, and the seat of art and refinement.]
[Headnote 4: PLA' TO, a celebrated Greek philosopher, born in Athens about the year 429 before Christ. He was a pupil of Socrates.]
ROLLIN.
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 apeculiar geniusfor 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 intrustyouwith 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 thana 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?
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.
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 beA 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 revelryOf 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 seeThe land of the pilgrimsever free!And I never will rove from the haunts I loveBut 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 firesThe goodly heritage of your sires,—How Freedom's light rose clear and brightO'er fair Columbia's beacon-hight,Till ye quenched the flame in a starless night.7. Then will I tear from your pennon fairThe 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 seeA craven racein 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?
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.]
SARAH JANE LIPPINCOTT.
1. Yes,ye are few,—andthey were few,Who, daring storm and sea,Once raised upon old Plymouth rock"The anthem of the free."2.And they were fewat 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 prideThe fierce, unequal fight.4.And they were few, who, all unawedBy kingly "rights divine,"The Declaration, rebel scroll,[1]Untrembling dared to sign.5.Yes, ye are few; for one proud glanceCan 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 TruthHath touched with living fire,—8. With one high hope, that ever shinesBefore you as a star,—One prayer of faith, one fount of strength,A glorious few ye are!9. Yedarenot fear, yecan notfail,Your destiny ye bindTo that sublime, eternal lawThat rules the march of mind.10. See yon bold eagle toward the sunNow rising free and strong,And see yon mighty river rollIts 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 worldIn 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 heavesThe bosom of the main;It tossed those fetters to the skies,And bounded on again!15. The scorn of each succeeding ageOn Xerxes'[Headnote 2] head was hurled,And o'er that foolish deed has pealedThe long laugh of a world.16. Thus, thus, defeat, and scorn, and shame,Ishis, who strives to bindThe 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?
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.
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 bewood, and something that will floatover, instead ofunderthe 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 shehaddone, the work shewasto 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 andtheyknew 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, forshe 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.
20. We reached the "Rhode Island;" ropes were flung over her side, and caught with a death-grip. Some lost their hold, were washed away, and again dragged in by the boat's crew. What chance had one whose right arm hung a dead weight, when strong men with their two hands, went down before him? He caught at a rope, found it impossible to save himself alone, and then for the first time said,—"I am injured; can any one help me?" Ensign Taylor, at the risk of his own life, brought the rope around his shoulder in such a way that it could not slip, and he was drawn up in safety.
21. In the mean time, the whale-boat, which had nearly caused our destruction, had reached the side of the "Monitor;" and now the captain said, "It is madness to remain here longer: let each man save himself." For a moment, he descended to the cabin for a coat, and his faithful servant followed to secure a jewel-box, containing the accumulated treasure of years. A sad, sorry sight it was! In the heavy air the lamps burned dimly, and the water, waist-deep, splashed sullenly against the sides of the wardroom. One lingering look, and he left the "Monitor's" cabin forever!
22. Time was precious; he hastened to the deck, where, in the midst of a terrible sea, Lieutenant Greene nobly held his post. He seized the rope from the whale-boat, wound it about an iron stanchion, then around his wrists, and, by this means, was drawn aboard the boat. Thus, one by one, watching their time between the waves, the men filled in, and, at last, after making all effort for others, and none for themselves, Captain Bankhead and Lieutenant Greene took their places in the boat The gallant Brown pushed off, and soon laid his boat-load safe upon the "Rhode Island's" deck.
23. Here the heartiest and most tender reception met us. Our drenched clothing was replaced by warm and dry garments, and all on board vied with each other in acts of kindness. The only one who had received any injury, Surgeon Weeks, [Footnote: The writer of this account.] was carefully attended to, the dislocated arm set, and the crushed fingers amputated, by the gentlest and most considerate of surgeons, Dr. Webber, of the "Rhode Island."
24. For an hour or more we watched, from the deck of the steamer, the lonely light upon the "Monitor's" turrets; a hundred times we thought it gone forever,—a hundred times it reappeared, till, at last, about two o'clock, Wednesday morning, December 31st, it sank, and we saw it no more. An actor in the scenes of that wild night, when the "Monitor" went down, relates the story of her last cruise.Herwork is now over. She lies a hundred fathoms deep under the stormy-waters off Cape Hatteras; but she has made herself a name, which will not soon be forgotten by the American people.
QUESTIONS.—1. When and where was the Monitor lost? 2. What signal service had she rendered? 3. Who was the writer of this account?