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The Wild Dark Storm.
Oh ! tie the easement, father,
The snow falls on my bed ;
Oh ! tie the easement, father,
It rattles o'er my bead.—
Dont sleep so sound, my father,
I'm very numb and chill,
And I can't bear to listen,
With the room so dark and still."
The drunkard heard no plaintive voice,
For death enwrapped his form,
Nor the Childs moan,—l'm all alone,
In the wild, dark storm.
The blast mixed clown the chmncy,
And shook the fragile wall,
And the casement rattled louder,
At the shrieking angry call;
The drunkard heard no plaintive voice,
For death enwrapped his form,
Nor the child's moan,—l'm all alone,
In the wild dark storm.
The light shone in upon her,
Her heart beat quick with fear,
She could see no form around her,
No voice, no foot-full hear,
But a whisper come unto her,
As vesper's tones might be,
And its melody breathed fairy like
° My child come home to me,"
And though she sighed, she still remained,
In the wild dark storm.
" There's snow upon my head, mamma,
My heart is freezing fast ;
And shadows from the corner
Are flitting swiftly past,
I come to you, dear mother,
If you'll make rue very warm,
For oh ! I'm cold and all alone,
In the wild dark storm,
The little snow drifts grew,
And so silently they slept,
Upon the ragged coverlet,
The child no longer wept;
She said there must be warmth in them,
And thrust within her hand,
And drew it forth encircled,
With a pale and icy band;
Then she shrieked as wild and frantic
And shook the drinken form—
"l am dying, father, dying,
hi the wild dark storm."
Poor child, her head sank backward,
Her eyes grew dark and dim,
Her voice grew stronger in despair,
She could not wakon him;
With red and frozen fingers joined,
She breathed in accents low,
" Where mother sleeps, where mother lies,
'Tis there I want to go."
THE VIRGIN OF VESTA.
DT AUGUSTINE DUGANNII.
For Rome is as a desert, where we steer,
&ambling o'er recollections."—B TRON.
The Tiber gleamed in the light of its illumine
ted banks. Far down the Palatine Hill, from the
Imperial Palace, flashed forth a long line of radi
ance upon the Via Sacra. And across the clefir
water, from the marble court of Apollo's temple,
came the evening chant of the priests, and the
sound of music, as if their god had struck his
The temple of Vesta, alone, upon the southern
slope of the hill, was lit by the rich moonbeams,
that clothed with a silver lustre its marble portico,
and glittered through the thick foliage of the sa
cred oaks which embosomcd it. Nought burned
there but the pure fire of the altar, around which
now a circle of white-robed virgins bent in their
And now the mystic rite is ended, and the sol
emn chant of the vestal train, as they slowly re
tire through the dim aisles, sounds faintly in the
distance. One is left—the virgin, who, through
the still night, shall watch the sacred alter-flame,
and offer to the spotless goddess a prayer for her
favorite shrine. Wh: gazes she so fixedly at her
departing sisters? Why casts she an anxious
glance around the lonely court?
A shadow stole across the marble pavement,
and the figure of a man stood forth in the moon
light. The maiden flew to meet him.
My brother ! thou art here ! 0 happy—'
' Hiatt they seek my life !' cried the young
man, casting an anxious glance around.
My brother! what meanest thou?'
' Germanicus is slain !' said the brother in a
The maiden gazed into the youth's face as if
she would fain read there the contradiction of his
words; but she saw that his features were deadly
pale. Ah, my brother,' she mannered, it is ,
not so-0, say not that our benefactor is—'
"Tis true—even at the banquet. I stood be
side him—l held his cup. Sejanus the tyrant, fill
ed from his own, and my master fell dead at my
feet. I escaped, but the slaves of Sejanus fol
And he—Germanicus—he is no more,' cried
, Ay, Livia—poisoned by the wretch who aims
at the imperial purple ! Germanicus is dead, Livia.
But hark! they come—l hear the tramp of their
' They will not harm thee here, my brother—
they dare not tear thee from the shrine of Vesta.'
' And what is Vesta to Sejanus 2' cried a voice,
as a band of soldiers entered the temple gate—
'Dreg the slave away :'tie the emperor's will!'
Beware r cried Livia, as, snatching a torch
from the altar, she sprang to her brother's side.—
' Beware, ere the insulted goddess shall avenge
her shrine ! Back back ! lay not your hands on
him who claims the aid of Vesta.'
The sister stood by her brother's side, like the I
very goddess whom she served. The rude and
superstitious soldier's trembled before the blaze of
the virgin's eyes. But their leader's voice arous
'Ha cried he, ' will ye be banked by a wo•
man?' and he grasped the maiden's arm.
The sword of the brother circled over the sol
dier's head, and the bright blade rung on Isis iron
helmet. But ere the blow could be repented,
lights gleamed along the corridors; and the bight
priestess broke the silence.
What means,' said she, ' the clash of steel 7
Why is the shrine of Vesta violated 7 Is Rome so
sunk in crime that the temple of her gods are not
revered ? Speak Livia ! why are these bold men
A stranger sought the protection of our altar.
He is a freedman of Germanicus whom they have
murdered. These men would drag him to a cruel
death. 0, save him, he is my brother!' And
the spirit that upheld her, giving way, she sunk
trembling at the feet of the priestess.
' Fear not, Livia! Tiberius himself dare not
desecrate the shrine of our goddess. Return !'
said the high priestess to the soldiers—' and say
to Sejanus, that the priestess Vesta protects her
' Advance !' cried the centurion. Pluck him
even from the altar's foot. Think ye that the
vengeance of the gods is surer or more terrible
than the wrath of Sejanus Advance upon the
The soldiers, accustomed to obey, hesitated no
longer. Throwing themselves together upon the
freedman, who, grasping his sword, had awaited
the result of the interference of the priestess, they
wrested the weapon from his grasp, and dragged
him from the temple court.
Livia lay senseless at the foot of the altar.—
But the high priestess heeded her not. Iler own
proud heart was swelling at the thought of her in
sulted goddess. The sanctuary violated !—sacri
lege at the very altar! "Tremble,' she cried, as
the corslets of the retreating soldiers flashed in
the blaze that streamed from the imperial palace
—"Trembled, Sejanus ! thy fate is sealed. Whom
the gods would destroy, they first make mad !'
&JANUS reclined at the banquet. Rival of his
master in dissitnulaton, he knew how to preserve
in public an austerity that effectually hid the
grossness of his sensuality. His was at the pitch
of his subordinate power ; for Tiberius sunk in the
enervating pleasures of his Capramm palace, had
apparently resigned all care of government into
the hands of his favorite. The word of &kiwis
was law in Rome.
Yet his ambition still looked higher, and al
ready the imperial crown seemed within his grasp.
The children of the elder Germanium were ban
ished. Drums had drunk the poison of his host.
What was now to prevent the attainment of his
vast ambition—the empire of all Rome ?
A messenger appeared.
The freedman of Germanicus is taken.'
'ro the dungeon with him !—Yet stay—guard
Ilerman entered between the soldiers who ad
vanced towards Sejanus. But the cautious tyrant
stayed their approach.
' And thinkest thou, tyrant, I slay at the ban
quet?' cried the bold freedman.
' Ha! slave ! are we braved I—a worthy cub of
thy master art thou. Methinks rebellion bath
grown bold! where found ye him!
' Its the temple of Vesta he had taken sanctuary.'
• Sanctuary ! 'tis well. Borne has yet to learn
flint Sejanus is her master. Had he papers 7'
He has destroyed them.'
'Ha!' cried Salamis, ' bear him to the dun
geon. The torture shall be thine on the morrow.
0, fearless despiser of tyrants !'
"A sister's love—the holiest thing
That earth has won from Heaven."
The priestess and Livia both knelt at the altar.
Together they hung the sacred garlands upon
the shrine—together watched the holy tire. Sud
denly the virgin paused—she threw herself at the
feet of the priestess.
'Can we not save himi' she murmured—' my
'Livia!' said the calm voice of the priestess, I
knew not thou hadst a brother.—Where dwelt
he when Germanicus consigned thee to my care 7'
'He was his freedman—we were once the child
ren of his enemy, for our father's sister was Thus
nelda, the wife of the bold Arminins. At that
dark defeat, when Varas sunk before the power of
the German loader, my father fell. Thitsnelda
succored us till she herself became a captive, and
then the generous hand of Germanicus preserved
the offspring of hie foe.
Herman became his freedman, and I, at my
own desire, (which may our goddess prosper!) be
came the child of Vesta. Thou had heard my
'Poor child!' said the priestess. 'He is thine
only brother, and in the power of Sejanus. But
hearken, Livia,—wouldst thou bravo danger to
save thy brother's life l'
'Gladly, gladly,' murmured the virgin, her eyes
lighting up with joy; ' what would I not ',ravel—
he is my brother.
'Then will I instruct thee,' said the priestess.
The brow of the vestal priestess wee white as
the marble pillar against which she leaned, and her
HUNTINGDON, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL 10, 1851.
dark eye flashed in the altar fire, as she gazed upon
the young girl—
Thou must go to Tiberius,' she said.
'To the dreadful tyrant V
'Even so, Livia, even to the tyrant, and to his un
holy palace of Capra'. But fear not ! The mantle
of our goddess shall cover thee, and her power
shall cover thy heart. Thou mayest seek the dread
ful isle unfearing. Myself and the virgins of Vesta
will pray for thee.'
I will go,' said Livia.
‘Featest thou to ask thy brother's life of Tibe
rim 1 Fearest thou to tell him of our altar's sac
' I fear not!' said Our goddess will
She knelt with the priestet; before the shrine of
Vesta. rier crossed hand rested on her pure bo
som, and her mild, trusting eyes were turned to
wards heaven. 'I fear not!' she said.
TIBERIUS reclined on his couch in his palace of
Capra'. A round of sensuality had enervated him.
His meager frame, that seemed the impersonitica
don of death, tossed restlessly from side to side and
his bright eyes shot uneasy and fugitive glances
from beneath their shaggy brows. His scarred and
bloated countenance worked fearfully; for the tyrant
Remorse was mightier than himself. Ha started
—a step approached—
'A lady craves to enter!' said the slave who ny
'Whence cometh she ?'
'ln a barque from Rome—the centurion of the
Western gate received her. She answered nought
to our subject, but prayed to be conducted to the
'Lead her hither!'
And Livia entered. Her white robes were con
cealed by a dark mantle, and her flowing hair was
hound beneath a close cap. She advanced towards
'Slaves! let her not approali.'
'Nay,' cried the maiden, fear not me!' and let
ting fall her mantle, and removing from her head
its covering, site stood before Tiberius.
It was as if an angel had stood within that den
of vice and infamy. Tiberius started from his
couch—neverbefore had a vision such as this bro
ken upon the eyes of the sensualist. He motion
ed to his satellites, and they retired.
'What seekest thou, maiden?' he asked in a low
silvery tone he could so well assume.
Livia paused. It was with a trembling hand
that she had entered the palace of the tyrant.
Many and fearful accounts had she heard of his
violence and untrammelled passions, and she had
recalled them all during the swift passage across
the sea, in the barque of Vesta's temple. But the
thought of her captive brother gave a high and holy
fervor to the meek vestal.
'Mighty emperor!' she cried, sinking at the feet
of Tiberius—'l implore thy mercy for my brother!'
'Thy brother—who is he
'The freedman of Germanicus, whom Sejanus'
At that name a smile played upon the lip of
the emperor. It was a dark and singular smile,
like the gleam of the serpent's eye ere it strikes.
'Rise, gentle lady!' said Tiberius; and taking
her hand he gazed upon her lovely countenance.
The modest eyes of the vestal fell before his keen
, glance—but she trembled not—ske was thinking
of her brother.
A curious and Rutting glance was that of Ti
berius. 'And hadst thou no fear?' he asked.
'Didst thou not know that Tiberius is called tyrant?
Darest thou to brave hint?'
'I would brave everything,' said Livia, 'for my
'But thou art beautiful Hest thou not heard
wild tales of the crimes of Tiberiust Bost thou
not feart—thou art in my power.' his eye fell
again with a scrutinizing glance upon the maiden's
She looked op into his face fearlessly, trustingly,
Her eye fell not before the gaze of Rome's impe•
rial master. She trembled not.
'Mighty emperor! the gods protect the innocent.
Vesta will not forsake her servant.' She spoke
with a free and holy confidence:—Tiberius was
awed—he bent before the power of virtue.
Suddenly he seized her hand—' Why lovest thou
thy brother?' he asked.
'He loveth me, ho is generous, good and noble!'
Tiberius released her hand and stamping his
foot, the slave re-entered. 'Lead the maiden forth,
and see her courteously attended.'
The slave looked inquiringly to his master, as if
for further instruction. Tiberius turned to his
'But my brother, mighty emperor—my brother!'
'lle loreth thee—he is generous, good, and
noble! Let that content thee!'
Livia was led forth, and Tiberius moved pain•
fully to the balcony.
The bright moonlight flashed upon the waves; it
lit the rocks and the foam that dashed over them;
it glittered on the arms of the sentinels that paced
the palace ramparts; and it fell on the brow of the
monarch of the land, and made it yet more ghastly.
'He is generous, good, and noble—thus she said,
murmured Tiberius to himself.—' Ho!' then he
cried aloud, ' bring forth the wino, and bid Sem
Wouldst thou he free?
Then strike the tyrant boldly. To the hilt
Drive thou thy steel.—Gozvoonen.
The freedman of Germanieus slept in his dun
geon. In dreams he wandered on the bright shores
of the Danube. Thusnelda and his mother rose
to his view. Then he beheld that mother stretch
ed beside his father's corpse—no light was in her
eyes—she was dead. He gazed fearfully upon
her face—it was Livia's. He started with a sud
den cry from his sleep.
A form heist over him, and the freedman recog
nized the face of Sejanits. ' Ha, tyrant !' he cried,
starting to Isis fret, ' than here 7'
Pence, slave, and listen ! wonldst thou be free 7
—wouldst thou have wealth and honor? ,
What meanest thou? , cried the young Ger
'Listen to me—l admire thy fearless spirit,
young freedman, and I would sa`•e thy life, and
raise thee to honor. Thou bast been faithful to
Germanic.; so thon wilt he to. me.'
" To his murderer !' murmured the freedman.
' It is false ! he was not murdered,' said Seja
nus.—' But speak ! wilt thou liver
If I may live in honor !' mid Herman.
Thou shalt have riches and honor,' said Seja
nue, one thing only I require.
Ha!' cried the German youth—' Speak r
Take. thou this dagger—a barque shall hear
thee to Capraa. Strike this steel to the heart of
Tiberius; and name thy reward. Dost thou hear
' Tiberius V immured Herman.
Ay, the tyrant—at Capne.'
The eyes of the German youth flashed like the
lightning's gleam, and his frame towered proudly
above that of Sejanns. ' Away !' he cried, ' trai
tor and assassin, away from a freeman's sight !'
Host thou refuse 7'
' Away, ere I strike thee with my chains,' cried
Herman raising his ponderous manacles above his
' The torture shall be—'
Art thou gone !' cried the youth, springing
forward towards Sejanus.
The favorite of Tiberius quailed before the eyes
of the freedman. With a muttered oath of ven
geance, he left the dungeon, and Herman turned
once more to his couch. But ero he reached it,
a figure stood forth from behind one of the huge
pillars that supported the roof of the cell. Freed
man of Gerroanicus,' said a voice, while a hand
at the instant grasped at his own—' thou host said
' Who art thou?' cried Herman, turning quick•
' Thy friend—come with me V
' Whither V
' To liberty—speak not, but follow.'
The freedman followed the footsteps of his con
ductor. They went forth from the prison, and
passeti through the grove that surrounded the
palace of Augustus. Then crossed the Via Sacra,
they descended the bill. A boat rocked lightly
upon the wave. ' Enter said his conductor, and
Herman obeyed. The stranger placed himself,
beside him, and immediately the oars of the stout
rowers propelled the barque over the water.
Across the blue sea bounded they, and still the
companion of Herman spoke no word.
Across the blue sea went they, till the waves
glanced in the morning sun, and the rocks of Ca
prte's harbor were in sight. And when the sun
of Italy beamed high over Came, Herman stood
in the presence of Tiberius.
'Thou art the freedman of Gormanicus,' said
' Thy sister has been here.'
had the lightning gleamed around him, it had
startled Herman no more. Tiberius watched him.
'Ay, youth, she has been here! A generous
maiden to sacrifice herself for her brother ! Post
thou not thank her V
' May the gods blast thee, tyrant!' cried the
excited youth. Oh, Livia, Livia—thou art lost
forever ! and for me—' lie struck his breast with
his clenched hand—' But thou hast not dared,'—
he exclaimed, springing forward and confronting
the Emperor—' thou—'
The smile of Tiberius met him—that meaning
smile, wreathing around the corners of his dark
mouth—a low laugh came from his lips ; he stamp
ed his foot—the door opened, and Livia appeared.
My brother—oh my brother !' cried she, flying
to his side.
But he returned not her embrace. He grasped
her hand, and gazed wistfully upon her face.—
, Servest thou Vesta?' he murmured.
The maiden looked into his eyes—she smiled;
that smile was enough for a brother's heart. He
bent his lips upon her forehead, then looked
around. Tiberius was gone, but in his place stood
the man who had led Herman front his dungeon.
He approached them—the brother and sister—
' Tiberius bids me lead you forth,' said he. 'Thy
sister's love and thy own loyalty have gained thee
a friend in the Emperor.'
' I was sent by Tiberius to thy dungeon, and
there overheard thy refusal of the dark offer of
Sejanus. The Emperor sends thy sister this V—
ile gave Livia a packet. It was a necklace of
pure pearl, and a scrap of papyrus—upon the lat
ter was written' May the gods blast thee, tyrant!'
Herman remembered his own daring words.
Again Livia knelt before the shrine of Vesta
and watched the pure flame. And while she knelt,
amid her sister vestals, there came up the hill
front the Forum, the sound of voices—a murmur
of many tongues—and a mighty shont as of thank
fulness and joy. The ucxt moment the form of
her brother knelt beside her, and his lips murmur
ed Listen !'
Livia and the priestess, and the vestals, bent
their heads as the mighty shout swelled up from
the city—' &punts is no more—the tyrant has
The priestess knelt before the altar of her god
dess. 'Thou hest avenged thy servants,' mur
mured she, Sejanus is no more!'
For the Huntingdon Journal.
Death of A. A. Adams, the distin
That tabernacle, in which once burned a beau
tiful flame, is now mingling with the dust. Ohe
of the brightest stare in the galaxy of dramatic
genius has gone down into the dark and silent
tomb, When the eye of genius is glazed, and
quenched in darkness, and his powerful wand lies
shattered in the dust ; when the strong minded,
and kind hearto are stricken down from amongst
as, the loss is felt to he public and general, and
no one who takes delight% the purity and success
of our drama, and one national literature, can re
gard, unmoved, the departure of the man of ge
nius and of worth.
Mr. ADAMS was a true born American ; brave,
generous, and manly. Possessing an intellect of
i the highest order, he ranked, justly, among the
first of his profession in our country. Though
gifted with brilliant talents, his manner was re
served and distant, until intimate acquaintance,
when he opened his inmost heart and displayed
those rich stores of disinterested friendship—feel
ing and charity—that characterised all his actions.
Benevolent to a fault, lie was beloved by all who
knew him, and while many mourned his faults,
there were but few who did not forget thorn in his
"Ho had his faults—yet who would dare disclose,
The hidden secrets of the sheltering tomb !
Long may they sleep, in undisturbed repose,
Deep in the solemn grave's forgetful gloom."
But it is not merely as a friend that we deplore
his loss, that we miss his companionship, or that
we cannot fill up his place in the social circle ;
we mourn, too, that the drama has lost one of its
brightest orbs. Those that could pretend to com
pete with him in his profession, were but few.—
, He was one of our greatest native players, and
the place that is now vacated, will not soon be oc
In his personation of the great character of
Virginius he was truly unsurpassed, and it was
always conceded to he a just and lofty embodia
ment of the conception of the author. It was
full of that intense passion, energy and pathos,
that so eminently characterise the play. The reve
lation which it gives of a noble and peculiar ge
nius, can never be forgotten. He was especially
unsurpassed in that part where he waits a res
ponse, after calling on his slaughtered daughter,
and says :
"I hear a voice so fino, there's nothing lives
'Twixt it and silence.'
—lt was indeed a lofty and a noble piece of
acting, displaying at once the depth of insight,
the extent of the attainments and varied culture
of the performer.
But it was not alone in Virginius that Mr. Ad
ams evinced his great talent and powers. He was
also conceded to be one of the greatest Hamlets
of his day—and, indeed, there was no character,
which he undertook to personate, in which he did
not excel, and display alike the attributes of his
genius, and a proficient in the. profession. Few
of all his admirers can understand what a living
death his life had been for a number of years be
fore its close, and few, therefore, could appreciate
the real consideration, that gave peculiar beauty
land value to the efforts of his genius, which were
I I wrought out under circumstances of the greatest
depression, and discouragement.
But ho is gone, and is now a resident of the
dark and narrow house, where he has only arriv
ed a short time before us, and while we cannot
but reflect upon the frailty of all earthly hopes,
and that lova and life are but words of care and
sorrow, we still breathe our humble prayer Chat—
Reguiescat in pare.
Huntingdon, March 24, 1851
• CmcissrAn, March 20th.—Mr. Augustus A.
Adams, the distinguished tragedian, died in this
city yesterday, after a painful illness.
Courage in Women.
There arc few things that would tend to make
women happier in themselves, and more accepta
ble to those with whom they live, than courage.
There are many women of the present day, sensi
ble women in other things, whose panic terrors are
a frequent source of discomfort to themselves and
those around them. Now it is a great mistake to
imagine that hardness must go down with courage;
and that the bloom of gentleness and sympathy
must all be rubbed off by that vigor of mind
which gives presence of mind, enables a person to
he useful in peril, and makes the desire to assist
overcome that sickliness of sensibility which can
not contemplate distress and difficulty. So far
from courage being unfeminine, there is peculiar
grace and dignity in those beings who have little
active power of attack or defence, passing through
danger with a moral courage which is equal to
that of the strongest. We see this in great things.
We perfectly appreciate the sweet and noble dig
nity of an Anne Bolyne, a Mary Queen of Scotts,
or a Marie Antoinette. We see that it is grand
for these delicately bred, high nurtured, helpless
personages to meet death with a silence and con
fidence like his own. But there would be a simi
lar dignity in women's bearing small terrors with
fortitude. There is no beauty in fear; it is a
mean, ugly, dishevelled creature. No state can
be made of it, that a, woman would wish to see
Er However brutish fighting may be, says
the Albany Dutchman, it has " its mission." We
have seen one knock down infuse more politeness
into a coxcomb in a minute, than Chesterfield
could have conferred on him in a century.
fir Too much devotion leads to fanaticism—
too much philoephy to irreligion. •
THE DEATH OF MOSEg.
BY HZNRY HVNITR, D. D.
The pen hoe now dropped from the hand of Mo
ans, and silent ie his tongue; and another.
not himself, must tell us what be is and bow he
died. Every scene in the life of this illustrious
man is singular, and instructive as singular, and
his latter end is not the least interesting and use
ful. lie had now completed his one hundred and
twentieth year, without having become enbjeet to
the usual infirmities of that advanced age. The
death of Moses,then, was not in the ordinary course
of nature, it was not preceded by its usual harbin
gers, it was not occasioned by a failure of the ra
dical moisture, by the stoke of violence, by the
Imalignity of disease, but by a simple act of the will
I of God,
Moses has forlfilled, like a hireling, his day—
has written, has spoken, has judged, has prayed,
has blessed; the business of life has ended: he has
glorified God on earth, it only remains that he
gloify him, by submissionSto his sovereign will, in
dying. Behold him, then, solitary and solemnly
advancing to encounter the last enemy; he has
passed through the plain, and again he begins to
climb up into the mount to meet God. The eye
of till Israel are rivited upon his foot-steps. Who
is not ready to cry out,—
'Would to God I could die for thee.'
Every step he advances plants a dagger in the
heart. The distance begins to render vision
indistinct; his person is diminished to:a speck; they
fondly imagine they see him still; the eyes strain
for another glimpse ; they can behold him no more.
But he still beholds their goodly tents—he sees all
Israel collected into one point of view. Jehovah
dwelling in the midst of his people—the tabernachs
with the pillar of cloud resting upon it—his affec
tion with his sight is concentrated upon the happy
spot—his whole soul goes out in one general de
parting blessing. As he ascends, the prospect ex
pands and brightens to his ravished eye. lie can
trace Jordan from its source till it falls into the sea,
he wanders, delighted, from hill to hill, from plain
to plain. He sees on this side Mt. Lebanon losing
its lofty head in the clouds—on that, the ocean and
the sky meeting together to terminate his view.—
Beneath his feet, as it were, the city of palm freer'
and the happy fields which the posterity of Jacob
were destined to inherit. The land which Abra
ham had measured with his Rich in length and
breadth of it, in which Isaac and Jacob bad sojour
ned as strangers, which God had fenced, and cul
tivated, and planted, and enriched by the hand of
the Cauanite for his beloved people, which the
sun irradiated with milder beams, the dew of hea
ven refreshed with sweeter moisture, and the early
and the latter rain fattened in more copious show
'And the Lord said unto him, this is the land
which I sware unto Abraham, unto Isaac and unto
Jacob, saying, I will give it unto thy eyes, hut
thou shalt not go over thither."
But what is the glory of this world? It paaseth
away! What is the felicity of man, who is a worm?
It cometh quickly to a period. The eye which age
had made dim, must nevertheless be closed in
death at last ; the strength which a htindr l d4nd
twenty years had not been able to impair, is in a
moment, by one tonch of the finger, dissolved; the
heart which God and Israel had so long divided,is
nu w wholly occupied by God. In the midst of a
vision so divine, Moses gertly falls asleep,—and
he who falls asleep in the bosom of a father, needs
Ife under no anxiety above awakening. 'So Mo
ses, the servant of the Lord died there in the Land
of Moab, according to the word of the Lord.'
But oh, what a blessed transition ! from the fair
est earthly prospect that eye ever beheld, to the
enjoyment of a fairer inheritance eternal in the
heavens; from the tents of Jacob, to the encamp
ment of angels under Michael their prince; from a
glory, confined and transitory, to glory unbound
ed, unchangeable ; from the symbol of the Divine
presence, in a pillar of fire and cloud, to His reel
presence, where there is "fullness of joy," and
where "there are pleasures for evermore." Be
hold Abraham, and Issaac, and Jacob, rushing
from thier thrones to welcome to the realms of
light the shepherd of Israel, who had led the cho ,
son seed from strength to strength, from triumph
to triumph, while the voice of the Eternal himself
proclaims, "Well done, good and faithful servant,
enter into the joy of thy Lord."
Such was the latter end of the most ancient and
authentic of historians, the most penetrating, dig
nified, and illuminated of prophets, the profound
est, sagest of legislators, the prince of orators and
poets, the most excellent and amiable of men, the
firmest, faithfulest of believers.
A Roland for an Oliver.
When General Oglethorpe, then a youth of fif
teen, was serving under Prince Eugene, a prince
of Wirtemberg, who sat at table, took a glass of
wine and flipped some of it into Oglethorpe's
face. Oglethorpe, unwilling to be thought hasty
and irroscible, waited his opportunity, and then
said, "Prince, that was a good joke; but we do it
much better in England," and threw a whole glass
in the prince's face.
Cr The good man contributes to the welfare
of others, not alone by positive act and instruc
tion, but his life resembles a fruit-bearing shade
tree, by which each passer-by finds shelter and
refreshment, which disinterestedly and even in
voluntarily scatters happy germs upon the sur
rounding soil, whereby it produces what is like
and similar to itself.
He who does his best, however little, is always
to ho distinguished from him who does nothing,
unlc‘a he attempts impossibibtios.