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of an eagle, that I might fly away to those happy seas: but the geniust old me there was no passage to them, except through the gates of death that I saw opening every moment upon the bridge. "The islands," said he, "that lie so fresh and green before thee, and with which the whole face of the ocean appears spotted as far as thou

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canst see, are more in number than the sand on the seashore; there are 6 myriads of islands behind those which thou here discoverest, reaching farther than thine eye, or even thine imagination, can extend itself. These are the mansions of good men after death, who, according to the degree and kinds of virtue in which they excelled, are

distributed among these several islands, which abound with pleasures of different kinds and degrees, suitable to the tastes and perfections of those who are settled in them; every island is a Paradise accommodated to its respective inhabitants. Are not these, O Mirza, habitations worth contending for? Does life appear miserable, that gives thee opportunities of earning such a reward? Is death to be feared, that will convey thee to so happy an existence? Think not man was made in vain, who has such an eternity reserved for him." I gazed with inexpressible pleasure on these happy islands. At length said I, "Show me now, I beseech thee, the secrets that lie under those dark clouds which cover the ocean on the other side of the adamant." The genius making me no answer, I turned me about to address myself to him a second time, but I found that he had left me; I then turned again to the vision which I had been so long contemplating: but, instead of the rolling tide, the arched bridge, and the happy islands, I saw nothing but the long hollow valley of Bagdad, with oxen, sheep, and camels, grazing upon the sides of it. 7 ADDISON.

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1 scimitar, a short sword used by the Persians and Turks. 2 comprehend, understand. vultures, etc.; these are the names of various birds of prey. The harpy is a winged monster existing only in the fables of the poets, who describe it as having the face of a woman, the body of a vulture, and feet armed with long sharp claws. 'dissipated, dispersed. adamant, a poetical name for the diamond or for the very hardest substance which can be imagined. myriad properly ten thousand, but the word is now used for any very large number. Addison, see Appendix.

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THE BOY WALTER SCOTT.

su-per-in-ten'-dence

PART I.

un-con'-scious

vir-tu-o'-so

A SICKLY child sent to his grandfather's, for change of air. Nothing extraordinary in that. It has happened to many children of whom the world never even heard that they were born. Grandfather's house! It is the child's paradise. He has only to cry for what he wants to obtain it. Grandpapa quite forgets the wholesale authority he exercised with the parents of his little grandchild, and how well they were made to "mind;" and he will always find some excuse, when they say to him, while he is spoiling their boy, "Grandpapa, you never allowed us to do so and so." He only shakes his silver head, and kisses the saucy rogue. Lame. little Walter Scott was sent to his grandfather, to 1" Sandy Knowe," for change of air. Of course he asked everybody what was good for his grandson's complaint. One person recommended that a sheep should be killed, and the child immediately wrapped in its warm skin. This was done; and behold little Walter lying on the floor in his woolly covering, and Grandpapa Scott sitting there coaxing him to crawl round and exercise his little lame leg. There was his grandmamma Scott, too, in her elbow-chair, looking on. Now and then a visitor would drop in-some old military man— to see grandpapa; and the two would sit and talk about the "American Revolution' then going on. These stories made little Walter's eye shine, for under the lamb's woolly skin there beat a little lion heart; and then this little three-year-old boy crawled nearer and nearer the chairs where the old men were sitting, and devoured

every word they said. All children like stories that are wonderful and marvellous; but perhaps little Walter would never have been such a beautiful story writer when he grew up, had he not lain there in his lamb-skin, in the little parlour at Sandy Knowe, listening to those old men's stories. People don't think of these things when they talk before children, who look so unconscious of what is going on.

Besides his good grandpapa and grandmamma, Walter had a very kind aunt, by the name of Janet, who liked children, and was fond of telling Walter stories, and teaching him to repeat little ballads. Of one of these in particular he was very fond; and when he lay sprawling on the floor, he used to say it over to himself.

It seems that Walter's illness did not sour his disposition. An old woman by the name of Tibby, at Sandy Knowe, says that "he was a sweet-tempered little 2 bairn, and a darling with all the house." The shepherds delighted to carry him upon their backs among the crags, and he soon learnt to know every sheep and lamb in the flock by the mark put upon their heads. Best of all he liked an old man, who had the superintendence of all the flocks, who was called the "cow-bailie." When Walter saw him in the morning, he would never be satisfied until he had been put astride his shoulder and carried to the crags, to keep him company while he watched his flocks. After a while he became weary of this, as children will; then the nice old man blew a particular note on his whistle, to let the maidservant know that she was to come up and carry him down the crags to his grandpapa in the little cosy parlour. Many, many, many years after this, when Walter was an old man, he went back to see those crags, and this is what he said: "Oh, how I used to love the sheep and lambs when I rolled round here

upon the grass! I have never forgotten the feeling-no, not to this day!"

Once, when little Walter was up on the crags, the people in the house where he lived forgot him. A

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thunderstorm came up. Suddenly his aunt Janet remembered that he was there, and ran up, much frightened, to bring him home. There she found him lying comfortably on his back, the sharp forked lightning playing overhead, and little Walter clapping his hands and crying,

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