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And feeding with confiding stay,
On tiny crumbs I threw to thee:-
A bird that ne'er had injured me.
Unknown, but felt-unseen, but heard;
His arm protects my darling bird.
Let snow-wreathes crown the highest hill;
He sees, protects, and fecds thee still.
INTERESTING AND USEFUL EXTRACTS.
THE FEAR OF DEATH.
There is nothing to which we are subject in this life, that presents a more formidable aspect than death. It is the boundary of all human prospects, and the end of every earthly enjoyment—it is justly styled the king of terrors! Its victorious sceptre has humbled the glory of successive empires and the pride of kings. It enters alike the palace of the greatest earthly prince, and the most secluded cave of the solitary hermit.
Men have succeeded in fortifying themselves against implacable enemies, but the strongest bulwarks and the most solid towers, afford no shelter from the ruthless arrows of death. No stratagem however deeply laid, can avert or retard for a single moment, its triumphant progress. Faithful in its work, this messenger of the grave leaps the highest walls, and the most inaccessible rocks, in pursuit of the victims of its rage—the subjects of the Almighty's firm decree, “dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return."
The blood of every living thing, for nearly six thousand years, hath not been sufficient to quench the thirst of the devouring monster-its insatiable hunger never cries it is enough. Inexorable in its demands, it regards not the tears of affection nor the entreaties of friends, but plucks from the mother's arms the darling of her hopes, and delights in trampling upon the beauties of innocence and youth. We weep! but it mocks our lamentations, and laughs at our grief.
We go to yonder house, and behold the trophies of its sway-before us, cold as a marble statue, and silent, lies one whose voice we have often heard. We see the winding sheet—the hearse—the solemn train-the narrow pit. We hear! the funeral knell—the sobs of mourning friends-the rumbling earth and from the midst, a voice, a voice! fearful! and filling us with apprehension !--familiar, yet often disregarded. From it we learn that we ere long must die, and be seen no more for ever!
But why are apprehensions cherished at the near approach of death? Is it the agonies of nature's last struggle! Is it the dark silence of the grave that fills us with forebodings so fearful? No! It is not these alone that gives to death its dreadful aspect. It is the conscious thought that it opens to us the untried realities of another world. It is the reflection, that with all our sins and follies, we must pass a solemn test at the judge ment bar of God!
ANECDOTE OF WASHINGTON. The surprise and capture of the Hessian troops at Trenton, is a well remembered event in our revolutionary history. It occurred at the darkest period of the struggle, and it was in the hour when the hopes of the most sanguine had alınost failed, that God so signally interposed to save our land. On that eventful morning, Colonel Biddle, of Philadelphia, rode by the side of Washington, and it is from his oft-repeated relation of the circumstances of that contest that we have deriv. ed our knowledge of the following interesting fact. The American troops crossed the Delaware about nine miles above Trenton, and marched in two divisions upon the town. This unexpected approach and vigorous attack of foes, supposed to be dispirited and defeated, was completely successful; and although the floating ice in the river had delayed the crossing, and it was 8 o'clock when Washington entered the village, the victory was gained with an ease altogether unexpected. In a few minutes all the outguards were driven in, and the American forces having surrounded the town, resistance
became fruitless, and the enemy surrendered. When this event was communicated to Washington, he was pressing forward, and animating his troops by his voice and example. Instantly checking his horse, and throwing the reins upon his neck, the venerable man raised his hands and eyes to heaven, and thus silently and emphatically acknowledged whence the victory had come, and what aid he had implored to guard his beloved country in the perilous conflict. It was not until the lapse of about a minute, that he paused from his devout thankfulness, and ordered the troops to stand to their arms.
Mortem. This curious and authentic relic is thus explained :The cross in the corner, towards which Pegasus flies, intimates that Christians should always follow wherever it leads. The wings show that our flight should be upwards—continually advancing towards heaven. Over the cross is a full-blown rose, the original seal of Martin Luther, and upon that another cross, signifying that since the gospel has been opened and publicly preached, we see in it nothing but Christ and him crucified. We here leave this explanation, with the untranslated motto, as a paraphrastic exercise for the poetical talents of our intelligent readers.
The great rule which the masters of rhetoric press much, can never be enough remembered, that to make a man speak well and pronounce with a right emphasis, he ought thoroughly io understand all that he says, be
fully persuaded of it, and bring himself to have those affections which he desires to infuse into others. He that is persuaded of the truth of what he says, and has a concern about it in his mind, will pronounce with a natural vehemence that is far more lively than all the strains that art can lead him to. An orator must be an honest man, and speak always on the side of truth, and study to feel all that he says, and then he will speak it so as to make others feel it likewise.—Cambray's Dialogues on Eloquence.
TRUTH AND SINCERITY. Truth and sincerity have all the advantages of appearance
If the show of any thing be good, the reality must be better ; for why does any man dissemble, or seem to be that which he is not, but because he thinks to have such a quality as he pretends to; for to counterfeit and dissemble, is to put on the appearance of some real excellency. Now the best way for a man to seem to be any thing, is really to be what he would seem to be. It is hard to personate and act a part long; for where truth is not at the bottom, nature will betray herself one time or other. When a man has once forfeited the reputation of his integrity, nothing will then serve his turn, neither truth nor falsehood; so that upon all accounts, sincerity is true wisdom.
GOLIATH OF GATH.
The following account of this Giant is extracted from Malcom's Bible Dictionary. " Goliath of Gath was 11 fect and 4 inches in height; his brazen helmet weighed 15 lbs. his target or collar, affixed between his shoulders to defend his neck, about 30; his spear was 26 feet long, and weighed 58 lbs. its head weighing 38; his sword 4: his greaves on his legs 30; and his coat of mail 136 ! Making in all 223 lbs."
The orator of the Emerald Isle, in a speech at the meeting of the Catholics, thus personifies Bigotry:-She has no head, and cannot think---no heart, and cannot
feel!_When she moves, it is in wrath—when she
pauses, it is amid ruin-her prayers are curses—her God is a demon-her communion is death—her vengeance is eternity-her decalogue is written in the blood of her victims—and if she stops for a moment in her infernal flight, it is upon a kindred rock, to whet her vulture fang for keener rapine, and replume her wing for a more sanguinary desolation.
OUR PILGRIM FATHERS.
Montgomery has beautifully described Columbus, while meditating on his great expedition, as gazing with eager expectation towards the new world which he hoped to discover
Lights of Heaven, he cried,
Denied to ages, but betrothed to me. This bride our pilgrim fathers found on these unvisited shores. On her shady bowers no rude spoiler had intruded. None of the corruptions of the old world had found their way into her bosom. She was worthy to be the bride of our forefathers, and to become the inother of a race of freemen
A just and reasonable modesty, does not only recommend eloquence, but sets off every great talent which a man can be possessed of. It heightens all the virtues which it accompanies; like the shades in painting, it raises and rounds every figure, and makes the colors more beautiful, though not so glaring as they would be without it. It is not only an ornament, but a guard to virtue. It is a quick and delicate feeling in the soul, which makes her shrink from every thing that has danger in it.
There are many shining qualities in the mind of man, but there are none so useful as discretion; it is this, indeed, which gives a value to all the rest, sets them at work in their proper times and places, and turns them to the advantage of the person who is possessed