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 "I break the chains that have been clanging Down through the dim vault of ages; I gird up my strength,—mind and arm,— And prepare for the terrible conflict. I am to war with principalities, powers, wrongs With oppressions,—with all that curse humanity. I am resolved. 'Tis more than half my task; 'Twas the great need of all my past existence. The glooms that have so long shrouded me, Recede as vapor from the new presence, And the light-gleam—it must be life— So brightens and spreads its pure rays before, That I read my mission as 'twere a book. It is life; life in which none but men— Not those who only wear the form—can live To give this life to the World; to make men Out of the thews and sinews of oppressed slaves." Mr. Wilson is a teacher, and whether the following is drawn from his own experience, or not, we are left to conjecture. THE TEACHER AND HIS PUPIL. —School Room. School in session. Dramatis Personæ.

A bachelor rising thirty. A beautiful girl of sixteen.

I see that curling and high-archéd brow. "Scold thee?" Ay, that I will. Pouting I see thee still; Thou jade! I know that thou art laughing now!