nothing remained but to highten the coloring by means of transparent varnish.

12. The malignant Brunello contrived, artfully, to convey into the vial, containing this varnish, some drops of a caustic preparation, the effect of which would be entirely to destroy the beauty and splendor of the piece. Guidotto laid it on by candle light, and then with great satisfaction, hung up his picture in the public room against the morrow.

13. Lorenzo, too, with a beating heart had prepared himself for the day. With vast application he had finished a piece, which he humbly hoped might appear not greatly inferior to some of Guidotto's earlier performances.

14. The highly important day had now arrived, the company were assembled, and were introduced into the great room, where the light had just been fully admitted by drawing up a curtain. All went up with raised expectations to Guidotto's picture, when, behold! instead of the brilliant beauty they had conceived, there was nothing but a dead surface of confused and blotched colors.

15. "Surely," they cried, "this can not be Guidotto's!" The unfortunate youth himself came up, and on beholding the dismal change of his favorite piece, burst into an agony of grief, and exclaimed that he was betrayed and undone.

16. The vile Brunello, in a corner was enjoying his distress. But Lorenzo was little

less affected than Guidotto himself. "Trick!

66

knavery!" he cried. Indeed, gentlemen,

this is not Guidotto's work. I saw it, when only half finished, and it was a most charming performance. Look at the outline, and judge what it must have been, before it was so base ly injured."

17. The spectators were struck with Lorenzo's generous warmth, and sympathized in the disgrace of Guidotto; but it was impossible to adjudge the prize to his picture in the state, in which they beheld it. They examined all the others attentively, and that of Lorenzo, till then an unknown artist to them, gained a great majority of suffrages.

18. The prize was therefore awarded to him; but Lorenzo, on receiving it, went up to Guidotto, and presenting it to him, said, "Take what merit would undoubtedly have acquired for you, had not the basest malice and envy defrauded you of it.

19. "To me it is honor enough to be accounted your second. If hereafter I may aspire to equal you, it shall be by means of fair competition, not by the aid of treachery."

20. Lorenzo's nobleness of conduct excited the warmest encomiums among the judges, who at length determined, that for this time there should be two equal prizes distributed; for that, if Guidotto had deserved the prize of painting, Lorenzo was entitled to that of virtue.

QUESTIONS.-1. What opinion had the masters of Guidotto's skill in painting? 2. How did Brunello regard the honor acquired by his rival? 3. In what way did he try to detract from the merit of Guidotto? 4. What was Lorenzo's conduct and feeling toward Guidotto? 5. What is said of his performance? 6. Whom was it his ambition to equal? 7. What did Brunello contrive to do the evening previous to the public exhibition of the paintings? 8. At what time was the effect of Brunello's treachery discovered? 9. How was Guidotto affected? 10. How did Lorenzo express himself? 11. What particularly struck the minds of the spectators ? 12. To whom did they award the prize? 13. What did Lorenzo do with the prize? 14. What did the judges afterward determine? 15. Should we not guard against the feelings of envy toward our superiors?

LESSON XCVII.

Spell and Define-1. EN VI' RON, to surround. 2. CRES'CENT, literally, the increasing or new moon; here means the figure of the new moon. 3. ME AN' DER ING, winding in course. 4. SUL' TRY, very hot; burning. 5. EN SU' ING, following.

NIGHT.

1. 'Tis night, and all nature is hushed in the gloom
Of darkness and silence around;

The dew drop refreshes the roses' perfume,
The grass that environs the champion's tomb,
And flowers that grow on the ground.

2. The stars now bespangle the vault of the sky,-
The heavens appear in a glow;

In silence majestic they twinkle on high,
And draw admiration from every eye,

While night spreads her mantle below.

3. The moon in the east now her crescent displays, And adds to the grandeur of night;

The stream in the meadow, meandering, plays,
The nightingale joins in melodious lays,—
All nature is charmed with the sight.

4. The cataract's roar now distinctly we hear,-
Loud sound through the silence serene;
Like thunder far distant it falls on the ear,
While the whippowil's notes in the bushes appear
To highten and gladden the scene.

5. The fresh breeze of evening now pleasantly blows, To cool off the day's sultry heat;

The cock in the barn, aloft, merrily crows,
While men on their couches serenely repose,
The ensuing day's labor to meet. ⚫

6. But soon in the eastern horizon, behold!
The darkness beginning to fly,

The morn ushers in beauties new to unfold,
Aurora's fair sun decks the mountains with gold-
The stars disappear in the sky.

LESSON XCVIII.

Spell and Define-1. DAP' PLED, spotted; variegated. 2. HU' MID, moist; damp. 3. DIS' SI PATE to scatter; to drive asunder. 4. SWAIN, a young man, 5. SUC CES'SION, a following in order. 6. AL LAY', to make quiet; to abate. 7. Joc' UND, merry; gay. 8. RE VEr' ber ings. echoes.

MORNING.

1. Now, in the east the crescent morn appears,
And, dappled, shoots around the growing day;
Or spreads along the vaulted arch, and clears
The dark dim shadows from its face away.
2. No longer curtained by the vail of night,

She gently spreads her humid wings on high;

And sheds abroad her streams of golden light,
And dissipates the darkness of the sky.

3. The noisy cock now wakes the rural swain,
Who, brushing from his eyes the dew of sleep,
Rises unto his daily cares again,

The same succession of his toils to keep.

4. The herds no more in sluggish slumbers rest,
But from their grassy couch are soon away;
To shake the drops from off the dew-drenched crest,
And in the stream their morning thirst allay.

5. The shepherd follows to his fleecy care;
The milk-maid rises to her morning toil;
The woodman's strokes re-echo through the air;
The jocund plowman breaks the stubborn soil.

6. The sun's first beams now touch the humid earth, And from her flowery mantle kiss the dew; Nature, all smiling, bursting into birth,

Far richer glows and brightens on the view. 7. Waked by the beams of renovated morn, Full many a warbler's softest notes I hear; And sweet reverb'rings of the full-toned horn, To call the laborer to his morning cheer.

LESSON XCIX.

THE LOST SHIP.

1. HER mighty sails the breezes swell,
And fast she leaves the lessening land;
And from the shore, the last farewell

Is waved by many a snowy hand;
And weeping eyes are on the main,

Until the verge she wanders o'er;