And now, farewell-Time unrevoked has run
His wonted course, yet what I wished is done.
By Contemplation's help, not sought in vain,
I seem to have lived my childhood o'er again ;—
To have renewed the joys that once were mine,
Without the sin of violating thine;

And while the wings of fancy still are free,
And I can view this mimic show of thee,
Time has but half succeeded in his theft-
Thyself removed, thy power to soothe me left.

COWPER.

Spell and pronounce: -pastoral, tolled, confectionery, frail, nursery, pretentious, contemplation, submissive, unrevoked, bestowed, themes, effaced, biscuit, hearse, memorial, and violating.

Synonyms.-solaced-comforted; relieved; alleviated. deploredmourn; lament; bewail; bemoan. beguiled-deluded; deceived; amused; cheated; insnared.

Exercise.-Select the nouns personified in the selection. What tender recollections of mother does the poet recall? What does he say of his parents? What does he mean by "this mimic show of thee"?

William Cowper (1731-1800) was of a gentle, sensitive nature. At the age of six-a motherless boy-he was sent to a boardingschool, where the heartless tyranny of one of the older boys caused the sensitive child intolerable misery, and no doubt deepened the morbid tendencies which made his subsequent life so unhappy. His poems are mostly sad, thoughtful, and didactic to an unpleasant degree; with the rare exception of the ballad "John Gilpin," inimitable in its free, warm humor, and instantly popular. It was written at the suggestion of Lady Austen, to whose judicious advice we also owe "The Task." Cowper's life was twice darkened by periods of insanity, and his closing years were spent in mental gloom.

"A perfect woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a spirit still, and bright
With something of an angel light."

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

rěl'iet, a widow.

LESSON LIX.

come'ly, handsome; good-looking.

ex ĕe'ū trix, a female executor.

dì lĕm'mȧ, a difficult choice. în'ere du'li ty, unbelief.

MR. PICKWICK'S EXTRAORDINARY DILEMMA.

Mr. Pickwick's apartments in Goswell Street, although on a limited scale, were not only of a very neat and comfortable description, but peculiarly adapted for the residence of a man of his genius and observation.

His landlady, Mrs. Bardell-the relict and sole executrix of a deceased custom-house officer-was a comely woman of bustling manners and agreeable appearance, with a natural genius for cooking, improved by study and long practice into an exquisite talent. There were no children, no servants, no fowls. The only other inmates of the house were a large man and a small boy; the first a lodger, the second a production of Mrs. Bardell's. The large man was always home precisely at ten o'clock at night, at which hour he regularly condensed himself into the limits of a dwarfish French bedstead in the back parlor; and the infantine sports and gymnastic exercises of Master Bardell were exclusively confined to the neighboring pavements and gutters. Cleanliness and quiet reigned throughout the house; and in it Mr. Pickwick's will was law.

To any one acquainted with these points of the domestic economy of the establishment, and conversant with the admirable regulation of Mr. Pickwick's mind, his appearance and behavior, on the morning previous to that which had been fixed

upon for the journey to Eatanswill, would have been most mysterious and unaccountable. He paced the room to and fro with hurried steps, popped his head out of the window at intervals of about three minutes each, constantly referred to his watch, and exhibited many other manifestations of impatience, very unusual with him. It was evident that something of great importance was in contemplation; but what that something was, not even Mrs. Bardell herself had been enabled to discover.

"Mrs. Bardell," said Mr. Pickwick, at last, as that amiable female approached the termination of a prolonged dusting of the apartment.

"Sir," said Mrs. Bardell.

"Your little boy is a very long time gone." "Why, it's a good long way to the Borough, sir," remonstrated Mrs. Bardell.

"Ah," said Mr. Pickwick, "very true; so it is." Mr. Pickwick relapsed into silence, and Mrs. Bardell resumed her dusting.

"Mrs. Bardell," said Mr. Pickwick, at the expiration of a few minutes.

"Sir," said Mrs. Bardell again.

66

Do you think it's a much greater expense to keep two people than to keep one?"

"La, Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Bardell, coloring up to the very border of her cap, as she fancied she observed a species of matrimonial twinkle in the eyes of her lodger, -"la, Mr. Pickwick, what a question!"

"Well, but do you?" inquired Mr. Pickwick.

"That depends," said Mrs. Bardell, approaching the duster very near to Mr. Pickwick's elbow, which was planted on the table,-"that depends a good deal upon the person, you know, Mr. Pick

wick; and whether it's a saving and careful person, sir."

"That's very true," said Mr. Pickwick; “but the person I have in my eye" (here he looked very hard at Mrs. Bardell) "I think possesses these qualities; and has, moreover, a considerable knowledge of the world, and a great deal of sharpness, Mrs. Bardell; which may be of material use to me.”

"La, Mr. Pickwick,” said Mrs. Bardell; the crimson rising to her cap-border again.

"I do," said Mr. Pickwick, growing energetic, as was his wont in speaking of a subject which interested him,-"I do, indeed; and, to tell you the truth, Mrs. Bardell, I have made up my mind.” "Dear me, sir," exclaimed Mrs. Bardell.

"You'll think it not very strange now," said the amiable Mr. Pickwick, with a good-humored glance at his companion, "that I never consulted you about this matter, and never mentioned it, till I sent your little boy out this morning, eh?" Mrs. Bardell could only reply by a look. She had long worshiped Mr. Pickwick at a distance, but here she was, all at once, raised to a pinnacle to which her wildest and most extravagant hopes had never dared to aspire. Mr. Pickwick was going to propose,-a deliberate plan, too,-sent her little boy to the Borough to get him out of the way,—how thoughtful,-how considerate!

"Well," said Mr. Pickwick, "what do you think?” "O, Mr. Pickwick!" said Mrs. Bardell, trembling. with agitation, "you're very kind, sir.”

"It will save you a great deal of trouble, won't it?" said Mr. Pickwick.

"O! I never thought anything of the trouble, sir,” replied Mrs. Bardell; "and of course, I should

take more trouble to please you then than ever; but it is so kind of you, Mr. Pickwick, to have so much consideration for my loneliness."

"Ah, to be sure," said Mr. Pickwick; "I never thought of that. When I am in town, you'll always have somebody to sit with you. To be sure, so you will."

"I'm sure I ought to be a very happy woman," said Mrs. Bardell.

"And your little boy-" said Mr. Pickwick. "Bless his heart," interposed Mrs. Bardell, with a maternal sob.

"He, too, will have a companion," resumed Mr. Pickwick,-"a lively one, who'll teach him, I'll be bound, more tricks in a week than he would ever learn in a year." And Mr. Pickwick smiled placidly. "O you dear-" said Mrs. Bardell.

Mr. Pickwick started.

"O you kind, good, playful dear," said Mrs. Bardell; and without more ado she rose from her chair, and flung her arms round Mr. Pickwick's neck, with a cataract of tears, and a chorus of sobs.

"Bless my soul!” cried the astonished Mr. Pickwick; -"Mrs. Bardell, my good woman,—dear me, what a situation, - pray consider. Mrs. Bardell, don't,-if anybody should come

"O, let them come," exclaimed Mrs. Bardell, frantically. "I'll never leave you,-dear, kind, good soul;" and, with these words, Mrs. Bardell clung the tighter.

"Mercy upon me," said Mr. Pickwick, struggling violently. "I hear somebody coming up the stairs. Don't, don't, there's a good creature, don't." But entreaty and remonstrance were alike unavailing,