, nor prayed that Thou
          Shouldst lead me on:
    I loved to choose and see my path; but now
          Lead Thou me on!
    I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
    Pride ruled my will: remember not past years.

    So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still
          Will lead me on
    O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till
          The night is gone,
    And with the morn those angel faces smile
    Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.
         --JOHN HENRY NEWMAN.

       *       *       *       *       *

    To him that wills, ways are not wanting.




        ESCAPE FROM A PANTHER


By this time Elizabeth Temple and Louisa had gained the summit of the
mountain, where they left the highway, and pursued their course under
the shade of the trees. Their conversation was entirely occupied with
the little incidents and scenes of their walk, and every tall pine, and
every shrub or flower, called forth some simple expression of
admiration.

[Illustration: FENIMORE COOPER]

In this manner they proceeded along the margin of the precipice, when
Elizabeth suddenly started, and exclaimed,--“Listen! there are the cries
of a child on this mountain! Is there a clearing near us, or can some
little one have strayed from its parents?”

“Such things frequently happen,” returned Louisa. “Let us follow the
sounds: it may be a wanderer starving on the hill.” More than once
Elizabeth was on the point of announcing that she saw the sufferer, when
Louisa caught her by the arm, and, pointing behind them, cried,--

“Look at the dog!”

Brave had been their companion from the time the voice of his young
mistress lured him from his kennel to the present moment. His advanced
age had long before deprived him of his activity; and when his
companions stopped to view the scenery, or to add to their bouquets,
the mastiff would lay his huge frame on the ground, and await their
movements, with his eyes closed, and a listlessness in his air that ill
accorded with the character of a protector.

, nor prayed that Thou 
           Shouldst lead me on: 
     I loved to choose and see my way; but nowadays 
           Lead Thou me on! 
     I loved the garish sidereal day, and, spite of concern, 
     Pride ruled my will: commend not past years. 

     So long Thy ability hath blest me, sure it even 
           Will lead me on 
     O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and flood, till 
           The nox is gone, 
     And with the morn those saint faces smile 
     Which I have love long since, and fall back awhile. 
          --JOHN HENRY NEWMAN. 

        *        *        *        *        * 

     To him that wills, ways are not wanting. 




         scat FROM A PANTHER 


 By this time Elizabeth Temple and Louisa had gained the summit of the 
 batch, where they left the highway, and pursue their course under 
 the shade of the trees. Their conversation was wholly occupied with 
 the little incidents and scenes of their walk, and every tall pine, and 
 every shrub or flower, call forth some simple expression of 
 admiration. 

 [ Illustration: FENIMORE COOPER ] 

 In this manner they proceeded along the margin of the precipice, when 
 Elizabeth suddenly started, and exclaimed,--“Listen! there are the cry 
 of a child on this mountain! Is there a clearing near us, or can some 
 little one have digress from its parents? ” 

 “ Such things frequently happen, ” returned Louisa. “ lease us follow the 
 sounds: it may be a wanderer starving on the mound. ” More than once 
 Elizabeth was on the point of announcing that she saw the sufferer, when 
 Louisa caught her by the arm, and, point behind them, cried,-- 

 “ Look at the dog! ” 

 Brave had been their companion from the time the voice of his unseasoned 
 mistress entice him from his kennel to the present here and now. His advanced 
 age had long before deprived him of his activity; and when his 
 companion stopped to view the scenery, or to add to their bouquet, 
 the mastiff would lay his huge frame on the ground, and await their 
 movement, with his eyes closed, and a listlessness in his air that ill 
 accorded with the fictional character of a protector.
, nog prayed that Thou
          Shouldst lece me oi:
    I moved to choose and see my path; but iow
          Lead Thou me on!
    I loved nhe garisy dab, and, spite of fxzrs,
    Ixide dmled kb will: remember not past fears.

    So lotg Tky power hath blest me, sure it still
          Will lead me jn
    O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till
          The noght is gone,
    And with tje mlrn those angel fafes smile
    Whyxh I have loxed long spuce, and losj awhile.
         --JOHN HENRY NEWMXN.

       *       *       *       *       *

    To him tmst wilns, ways are not wantikg.




        ESCAPE FROM A PANTHXR


By this time Elizafeth Tempne and Louisa had gqibed tve sgmmig of tht
monntzin, whfre they left the highwat, and pursued their cjltse under
the shade os the trees. Their conversation was entigely occupied with
the littlw incidents and scened of theiw walk, and every tall pine, and
every shrub or flowar, camued fjfrh some simple expression of
admiration.

[Illustratykn: FVNIMORE COOPER]

In bhis manner they ptoferqed along the margiu or the precipice, whfn
Elizafeth wuddenly ftaryed, and exclaimed,--“Listen! theee are the cgies
if a child on this mountain! Ir thgre a vlearing near us, or can soms
little one have strzhed from its pardntx?”

“Sgch things frequently happqn,” returnxd Lobisa. “Let us gollow the
sounds: it may be a wanderer stwrviny on dhe hill.” Mlre than once
Elizabeth was on tix point of anmogncpng that fhe ssw the sufferqr, when
Louisa eaught hzr by ghe arm, ans, pointmng behind trem, cried,--

“Look wt the dog!”

Breve had bqen rheie compavkon from the tome the voice of hiw young
mistress luved hkj from his kennzu to the present mooene. Jix wgvanced
age hdd lung neford deprived mim of nis activity; and whet hia
companions stoppec bo view tye scenewy, or to add yo their bouquets,
tje mavtihf woukd jay his huge frame on the grouhd, and awwit their
movemegts, qith his eyex closed, and a listlessness in his air vhat ill
accorded with jhe character of a prpuector.

, nor prayed that Thou Shouldst lead I to choose see my path; on! loved the garish and, spite of Pride ruled my will: remember not years. So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still Will lead on O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till The night is And the those faces smile Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile. --JOHN HENRY NEWMAN. * * * * To him that wills, ways are wanting. ESCAPE FROM A By this time Elizabeth Temple Louisa gained the of mountain, they left the and pursued their course under the shade of the trees. Their conversation was entirely occupied with the incidents and their walk, every pine, every shrub or forth some simple expression of admiration. In this manner they proceeded along the margin the precipice, Elizabeth suddenly started, and exclaimed,--“Listen! there the cries of a child on this mountain! there a clearing near us, or can some little one have strayed from its parents?” frequently happen,” returned Louisa. us follow the it be wanderer on the More than once Elizabeth was on the point of announcing that saw the sufferer, when Louisa caught her by the arm, behind cried,-- “Look at dog!” Brave had been companion the time the voice young lured kennel the moment. His advanced age long before deprived him of activity; and when his scenery, or to add to their bouquets, the would lay his huge frame on the and await their movements, with his eyes closed, and a listlessness in air that with the character of a protector.
, nor prayed that Thou
          Shouldst Lead me on:
    I lOved tO chOosE aNd seE my pAth; but now
          Lead THOu me On!
    I loved the garish day, anD, spitE oF FearS,
    prIde ruLed my wiLL: rEMEmbEr NoT paSt YEaRs.

    So lOng thy poweR hath blest Me, sUrE it still
          Will LEaD me on
    O’er moOr aNd fen, o’er crag And TorrenT, tIll
          tHe nigHt iS gone,
    and witH The morN those angEl FAces smILe
    Which i HAvE lovEd long since, and losT AwHIle.
         --JOHN HENRY NEwMAN.

       *       *       *       *       *

    To HiM ThAT WilLs, wAys are not wAnTing.




        EscAPE FROm a PanthER


bY this time ElizAbeth Temple ANd LOuisa hAd GaiNEd the sUmmit Of THe
mOuntain, wherE theY left the hIghway, ANd pursuED their cOurse uNdeR
thE shaDE oF tHe tReES. ThEIr ConVErsAtion was EnTiRely oCcupIED WIth
tHe lIttlE inciDents and sceneS of TheiR WalK, and eVery tAll pInE, and
eVery shRub or FlOwer, called forth Some Simple expResSiOn oF
aDmiraTIon.

[IllUstRatIon: FENImORE COOpeR]

IN tHIS MaNner they proceeded aLoNG ThE margin oF the prECiPiCE, when
EliZaBetH sudDENly stArteD, AnD exclaimEd,--“ListEN! tHeRe are thE cRies
of A cHilD on This mOUntaIn! Is thEre a cleaRing nEAr us, or can some
lITtle one have stRAyED FrOM its ParEnts?”

“Such thiNgs fREqueNtly HApPen,” REturnEd LouIsA. “leT Us follow the
sounds: it MaY be a waNdereR starving on thE hill.” More tHAN Once
ElizAbetH WaS On the point of anNouncIng that she SAw the sufFerer, When
LouiSa caught hER By the arm, And, PoiNtiNg bEHInD them, cried,--

“LooK AT the DoG!”

Brave hAd bEen theiR coMpaNioN frOm The time thE voice of HiS yOuNg
MisTress LUred him fRoM hiS kEnnEl to tHE preseNt momEnt. HIs AdVAncEd
age haD LoNG BefoRe DePrivEd hIm Of his ActiVIty; And when His
companIonS StopPeD tO view thE scenery, or to aDd To their bouQuEts,
The masTIFf would lAy his huge frame on the grouND, and awaIt tHeir
mOvemEnts, with hIs eYes cloSed, ANd a lisTlessnEss in HiS aiR THat ilL
ACcOrdEd With the chaRACteR of a pRoTectOr.

, nor prayed that Thou
         Sho uldst  le adme  on: 
   I loved to ch o oseand see my path; but n ow
     Le ad Th ou me o n !  I  l ov edth e  g arish  da y, and,  spite offea rs ,
    Prider ul ed my will : r emember notpas t year s. 

  Solon g Thy  power hath b lest me,su r e it s t ill
      W ill lead me on
  O ’ er moor and fe n, o’e rc ra g and  to rrent, til l        The ni g h t  is gone,
    And  with the m o rnthosean gel facessmile 
  W hich I have  lov ed long s ince,a nd lost awhile. 
       -- JOHN HE NR Y N EW M AN. 
    *        *      *   *      * 

   Tohim that will s,ways are  notwanti ng.


       E SCAPE  F ROM A PANTHER

Bythis time  El iz abe th  Temp l e andLou isa  had ga ined th e  su mm i t of  the
mountain, whe re t he y left t he hig h wa y, and purs ue d t heir c ourse  und e rthe shad e of t h etr ees. Th ei r conv er sat ion  wase ntir ely oc cupied w ith
t h e little incid e nts and scene s  o f th e ir w alk , and every  tal l  pin e, a n deve r y shr ub or  f l ow e r, called forth som esimple  expr ession of
adm iration.
[ I l lustrati on:F EN I MORE COOPER]
In th is mannert hey proc eeded  along t he margin o f the pr eci pic e,whe n El izabeth sudde n l y st ar ted, an d e xclaime d,- -“L ist en!  t here arethe crie sof  a  c hil d ont his moun ta in!  I s t herea  clear ing n earus ,o r c an some li t t le o ne  h avestr ay ed fr om i t s p arents? ”

“Suchthi n gs f re qu ently h appen,” retur ne d Louisa.“L etus fol l o w the
so unds: it may be a wande r er star vin g onthehill.” Mo rethan o nce Elizab eth wa s onth e p o i nt of a nn oun ci ng that sh e saw  thesu ffer er, whe n
Louisa caught he r  by  the arm, and , p oint i n gbeh i nd the m, cri e d ,--

“Look at t he dog!”
Br a ve  had beent hei rcompani on from  thet ime the  voice of  his youn gmist r e sslured himfrom his  kennel t o  thep re sentmom ent. H is  ad vance d
ageh adlongbefore  d eprive d him  o f his ac tivity; and when his
co mpanio ns st opp ed to vie w t h e s cenery, o r to  add to th eir  bo uquet s,t he ma stif f  w oul d  layhish uge frame on  th e gr ound, and a w a i t t heirmov e ments,  wit h his eyes closed ,  and a listles snes s inhis airth at ill
accorde d w it h the char ac ter of a pr otector. 

, nor_prayed that_Thou
   _ __ __Shouldst lead me_on:
  _ I loved to_choose and see_my_path; but now
          Lead Thou_me_on!
 ___I loved the garish day,_and, spite of fears,
 _ _Pride ruled my will: remember not past years.

__  So_long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still
_     _  _Will_lead_me on
  _ O’er moor and fen, o’er_crag and torrent, till
  _      _The night is gone,
  _ And with the morn_those angel_faces smile
   _Which I have_loved long_since, and lost_awhile.
     _  _--JOHN HENRY NEWMAN.

   __  *___ _  *__ __  *   __  *    _  *

 __ To him that_wills, ways are not wanting.




_     _ ESCAPE_FROM A_PANTHER


By this time Elizabeth Temple and Louisa had gained the summit_of the
mountain, where they left the_highway, and pursued their_course under
the_shade_of the trees._Their_conversation was_entirely occupied with
the little incidents and scenes_of their_walk, and every tall pine, and
every_shrub or flower, called_forth_some simple expression of
admiration.

[Illustration: FENIMORE COOPER]

In_this manner they proceeded along the_margin of the precipice, when
Elizabeth_suddenly_started,_and exclaimed,--“Listen! there are the_cries
of a child on this mountain!_Is there a_clearing near us, or can some
little one_have_strayed from its parents?”

“Such things frequently_happen,”_returned Louisa. “Let us follow the
sounds:_it_may_be a wanderer starving on_the hill.” More than once
Elizabeth was_on the point of announcing that she saw the_sufferer, when
Louisa caught_her by the arm, and,_pointing_behind_them, cried,--

“Look at the dog!”

Brave had been their companion from_the time_the voice of_his young
mistress lured him from his kennel to the present_moment. His advanced
age had long before deprived_him of his activity; and when his
companions stopped to view the_scenery, or to add to their bouquets,
the mastiff_would lay his huge frame on the_ground, and await their
movements,_with_his eyes closed, and a listlessness in_his_air_that_ill
accorded with the_character of a_protector.
