FOR PREPARATION.-I. Robert Emmet, born in Cork in 1780, an ardent friend of Irish independence, at the age of twenty-three years placed himself at the head of a party of insurgents in Dublin, who killed the Chief Justice, Lord Kilwarden, before they were dispersed by the military. Emmet was subsequently taken prisoner, having lost his opportunity to escape from the country by imprudently returning to Dublin to bid adieu to the daughter of the famous barrister, Curran. He was tried before Lord Norbury, convicted of high treason, and executed the next day. In reply to the usual question asked of the prisoner after the verdict has been rendered in such cases, Emmet made an eloquent and impassioned speech, vindicating his course, of which more than one half is given in the above extract-omission being made of those portions in which he exculpates himself from the charge of being an emissary of France.

II. Al-lĕged' (al-lějd'), sēize, guilt (gilt), rès'-eued, wräth'-fụl (räth'-), eon-sign' (kon-sin'), ad-judged', mär'tyred.

III. "After being adjudged guilty by your tribunal "—why is " "your" printed in italics? What thought did Emmet convey by emphasizing the word?

IV. Obloquy, epitaph, blasphemy, emancipation, calumny, catastrophe, mitigation, vindicate, chimerical, attaint, pliant minion, complacency.

V. "Perfidious government" (3)-what government is referred to? Lord Norbury, the Chief Justice, interrupted Emmet frequently during the course of this speech, and many passages are directed in reply to the judge's remarks. For example, the appeal to the throne of Heaven (4) is a reply to the Lord Justice's interruption with: "The weak and wicked enthusiasts who feel as you feel, are unequal to the accomplishment of their wild designs." Again the appeal to the spirits of the illustrious dead (8) was in reply to: "Your principles are treasonable and subversive of all government; your language is unbecoming a person in your situation. Your father, Dr. Emmet, would never have countenanced such sentiments."

XLIV.-ADIEU TO MY NATIVE LAND

1. Adieu! adieu! my native shore
Fades o'er the waters blue;

The night winds sigh, the breakers roar,
And shrieks the wild sea mew.

Yon sun that sets upon the sea,
We follow in his flight;
Farewell awhile to him and thee,
My native land-good night!

2. A few short hours, and he will rise To give the morrow birth;

And I shall hail the main and skies,

But not my mother earth.
Deserted is my own good hall,

Its hearth is desolate;

Wild weeds are gathering on the wall;
My dog howls at the gate.

3. Come hither, come hither, my little page; Why dost thou weep and wail?

Or dost thou dread the billows' rage,
Or tremble at the gale?

But dash the tear-drop from thine eye!
Our ship is swift and strong;

Our fleetest falcon scarce can fly

More merrily along.

4. "Let winds be shrill, let waves roll high, I fear not wave nor wind;

Yet marvel not, Sir Childe, that I
Am sorrowful in mind;

For I have from my father gone,
A mother whom I love,

And have no friend save these alone,
But thee, and One above.

5. "My father blessed me fervently,
Yet did not much complain;
But sorely will my mother sigh
Till I come back again."

Enough, enough, my little lad!
Such tears become thine eye;
If I thy guileless bosom had,
My own would not be dry.

6. Come hither, hither, my stanch yeoman: Why dost thou look so pale?

Or dost thou dread a French foeman,

Or shiver at the gale?

"Deem'st thou I tremble for my life?
Sir Childe, I'm not so weak;

But thinking on an absent wife
Will blanch a faithful cheek.

7. "My spouse and boys dwell near thy hall,
Along the bordering lake,

And when they on their father call,
What answer shall she make?"
Enough, enough, my yeoman good:
Thy grief let none gainsay;
But I, who am of lighter mood,
Will laugh to flee away.

8. And now I'm in the world alone,
Upon the wide, wide sea;

But why should I for others groan,
When none will sigh for me?
Perchance my dog will whine in vain,
Till fed by stranger hands;
But long ere I come back again
He'd tear me where he stands.

9. With thee, my bark, I'll swiftly go,
Athwart the foaming brine;

Nor care what land thou bear'st me to,
So not again to mine.

Welcome, welcome, ye dark-blue waves!
And when you fail my sight,
Welcome, ye deserts and ye caves!
My native land, good night!

Lord Byron.

FOR PREPARATION.-I. From "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage," Canto I., xiii. Sir Childe takes his harp at sunset as he sails away from England. Contrast the patriotism of The Burial of Sir John Moore (Fourth Reader) with the tone of this in stanza 9.

II. A-dieū' (-dū'), shriēks (shreeks), heärth (härth), fal'-eon (faw'kn), e-noŭgh' (-nŭf), yeō'-man, fōe'-man, grief, läugh (läf).

III. Meaning or effect of est in fleetest ;—of st in dost;—m in whom of the change of ou in thou to ee in thee. "One above "-why capital? Explain "he'd." Whose words are denoted by the marks "" in stanzas 4, 5, 6, and 7?

IV. Meaning of or in "or dost thou dread " (3)-(whether). Explain sea mew, main, mother earth, fervently, guileless, athwart, foaming brine.

V. "Follow in his flight" (1)—which way is he sailing then? "My dog howls," etc.-why? Does gone rhyme with alone (stanza 4, perfectly? What do you think of the use of you and ye (9) together in the same address? What has been the character of the man who (9) leaves his native land with such feelings? Note the confession in the last two lines of 5.

XLV. THE BATTLE OF THE ANTS.

1. One day when I went out to my wood pile, or rather my pile of stumps, I observed two large ants, the one red, the other much larger, nearly half an inch long, and black, fiercely contending with one another. Having once got hold, they never let go, but struggled and wrestled and rolled on the chips incessantly.

2. Looking farther, I was surprised to find that the chips were covered with such combatants; that it was not a duellum, but a bellum—a war between two races of

ants, the red always pitted against the black, and frequently two red ones to one black. The legions of these myrmidons covered all the hills and vales in my wood yard, and the ground was already strewn with the dead and dying, both red and black.

3. It was the only battle which I have ever witnessed, the only battlefield I ever trod while the battle was raging; internecine war-the red republicans on the one hand, and the black imperialists on the other. On every side they were engaged in deadly combat, yet without any noise that I could hear; and human soldiers never fought so resolutely.

4. I watched a couple that were fast locked in each other's embrace, in a little sunny valley amid the chips, now at noonday prepared to fight till the sun went down or life went out. The smaller red champion had fastened himself like a vise to his adversary's front, and through all the tumblings on that field never for an instant ceased to gnaw at one of his feelers near the root, having already caused the other to go by the board; while the stronger black one dashed him from side to side, and, as I saw on looking nearer, had already divested him of several of his members.

5. They fought with more pertinacity than bulldogs. Neither manifested the least disposition to retreat. It was evident that their battle cry was "Conquer, or die!" In the meanwhile, there came along a single red ant on the hillside of this valley, evidently full of excitement, who either had dispatched his foe, or had not yet taken part in the battle-probably the latter, for he had lost none of his limbs-whose mother had charged him to return with his shield or upon it.