must have
been a great mental strain to grasp the ideas of the first projectors of
steam and gas, electric telegraphs, and pain-deadening chloroform. The
inventor is always, in the eyes of his fellow-men, somewhat of a madman;
and often they do their best to make him so.

11. Again, there is the want of sympathy; and that is, perhaps, the ruling
cause in most men's minds who have given themselves up to discourage. They
are not tender enough, or sympathetic enough, to appreciate all the pain
they are giving, when, in a dull plodding way, they lay out argument after
argument to show that the project which the poor inventor has set his
heart upon, and upon which, perhaps, he has staked his fortune, will not
succeed.

12. But what inventors suffer, is only a small part of what mankind in
general endure from thoughtless and unkind discouragement. Those
high-souled men belong to the suffering class, and must suffer; but it is
in daily life that the wear and tear of discouragement tells so much.
Propose a small party of pleasure to an apt discourager, and see what he
will make of it. It soon becomes sicklied over with doubt and despondency;
and, at last, the only hope of the proposer is, that his proposal, when
realized, will not be an ignominious failure. All hope of pleasure, at
least for the proposer, has long been out of the question.

DEFINITIONS.--2. Des'ig-nat-ed, called by a distinctive title, named. 5.
Yam, the root of a climbing plant, found in the tropics, which is used for
food. 6. Im-paled', put to death by being fixed on an upright, sharp
stake. 8. Di-late', to speak largely, to dwell in narration. 10. Rise
(pro. ris, not riz), source, origin. Pro-jec'tor, one who forms a scheme
or design.

CIV. THE MARINER'S DREAM.

William Dimond (b. 1780, d. 1837) was a dramatist and poet, living at
Bath, England, where he was born and received his education. He afterwards
studied for the bar in London. His literary productions are for the most
part dramas, but he has also written a number of poems, among them the
following:

1. In slumbers of midnight the sailor boy lay;
His hammock swung loose at the sport of the wind;
But watch-worn and weary, his cares flew away,
And visions of happiness danced o'er his mind.

2. He dreamed of his home, of his dear native bowers,
And pleasures that waited on life's merry morn;
While Memory each scene gayly covered with flowers,
And restored every