oman of her Riches and then expect a Favour at her Hands, but if you
will give me my Comb and Girdle again, what lies in my Power, I will do
for you. She presents him with a Compass, told him to steer S.W., made
an Appointment for following Friday, and jumped in the sea. He arrives
safely home, and while musing on his promise She appeared to him with a
smiling Countenance, and (by his Misfortune) she got the first Word of
him, so that he could not speak one Word and was quite Dumb, and she
began to sing, after which she departed, taking from him the Compass.
She took a Ring from her Finger and gave him. (The young man went home,
fell ill and died 5 days after), to the wonderful Admiration of all
People who saw the young Man.

* * * * *

After the eighteenth century the chapbooks gradually went out of favor,
and since then in England, as in America, more and more careful
attention has been given to writing good stories for children and
printing these attractively. These better books could not have come,
however, had it not been that for generation after generation crude
little primers and storybooks, such as the interesting kinds that have
been described, helped to point out to people, little by little, how to
make children's reading both instructive and pleasing.

LEAD, KINDLY LIGHT

_By_ CARDINAL NEWMAN

Of this poem, Newman has written: "I was aching to get home; yet for
want of a vessel, I was kept at Palermo for three weeks. At last I got
off on an orange boat, bound for Marseilles. Then it was that I wrote
the lines, _Lead, Kindly Light_, which have since become well known."

Again, he has said: "This is one full of light, rejoicing in suffering
with our Lord. This is what those who like _Lead, Kindly Light_ must
come to--they have to learn it."

Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom,
Lead thou me on;
The night is dark and I am far from home;
Lead thou me on;
Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.

I was not ever thus, 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 has 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 ang