There was no delay. In a few mine among the mould of his forefathers, spot of rest. One by one the people were left by the new-made grave the pastor and myself. As yet pause I looked around me, ove

10. Each tombstone and grave, in boyhood, arose in my memu their long-forgotten inscription been erected. The whole cha ple and unostentatious; but could see that there had been of the living. There was a not without much of native thing even of native grace than the name and age of in general, some short to ant and soothing to the p to commemorate them on taken from that Book,

11. There is a soft a country church-yard. fered to go on over th affecting in the conten vered to the

be there! and by the fireside,
ind him at the family
o! where he was early taught
knees shall bend no more! at church,
in hand we walked, but where he sat
and listens to the Word of life,
i hoped would ere long enlist
hought, and imbue his tender mind.
where his sportive feet were wont
e butterfly, I shall walk alone.
l of wing, fly on, and light
lower, and rest, and sip its sweets;
hand shall not disturb your rest,
ot shake the flower on which ye sit;
not fear.

Oh, death why, cruel monster,
ou seize on one so young, so active,
full of hope? Why wreak thy vengeance
bud of genius, unopened yet

ripening hand of time, but opening
nfolding seeds of promise? Why pass
endly by whom all other friends forsake,
tune's child, the aged, racked with pain,
the weary of life, to blight one

was his parents' hope, a brother's pride?
y pass by me, on whom the world has frowned
long, for whom the world has lost its charms,
d ruthless slay this heir of better hopes,
whose morning prospect lowered no cloud,
stamped with the bow of promise?

Be silent, pride, 'tis right, 'tis God directs;
Jnerring wisdom guides his deep designs:
Then cease, my soul, to murmur, cease to mourn,
The remnant of thy days devote to Him

Who gave, and took but what he gave; to Him
Who is thy life, thy hope, and thy reward;
And till those days are numbered, patient wait
Thy own great change: then be thy work finished,
Thy last foe subdued, and thou, triumphant
In redeeming grace, prepared to soar

Above the world of sin, and pain, and death, to that
Where friends shall meet, and friendship cease no more!

AMERICAN ATHENEUM

ing a word, with his solemn and pitiful eyes fixed upon the prostrate and contrite man. His sin had been great, and tears, that till now had, on this day at least, been compressed within his heart by the presence of so many of his friends, now poured down upon the sod as if they would have found their way to the very body of his father. Neither of us offered to lift him up, for we felt awed by the rueful passion of his love, his remorse and his penitence; and nature, we felt, ought to have her way. "Fear not, my son," at length said the old man, in a gentle voice," fear not, my son, but that you are already forgiven. Dost thou not feel pardon within thy contrite spirit?" He rose up from his knees with a faint smile, while the minister, with his white head yet uncovered, held his hands over him as in benediction; and that beautiful and loving child, who had been standing in a fit of weeping terrour at his father's agony, now came up to him, and kissed his cheek; holding in his little hand a few faded primroses, which he had unconsciously gathered together as they lay on the turf of his grandfather's grave.- WILSON.

१

LESSON XXVIII.

On the Death of a Brother.

1. I had a brother once, but now have none!

He loved me with a childish fondness; and oft

To me, as I returned after a short absence
From that paternal roof that sheltered both
Our infant years, would he extend the hand
Of strong affection, and look endearment.
And when the cruel year had come, that called
Me far away from that abode, and bade

Me seek another home, he said farewell;'
Yet a little while and we shall see you again.'
I as fondly hoped, ah! delusive hope!

The grave conceals him. On this side the grave
I no more shall see him. Should Providence
Permit, and I should visit yet once more
My loved, native spot of earth, mementoes
Sad, where once he smiled, shall thicken
Round me. At the table I shall seek him,

3.

But he'll not be there! and by the fireside,
But shall not find him! at the family

Altar; but no! where he was early taught

To pray, his knees shall bend no more! at church,
Where hand in hand we walked, but where he sat
Another sits, and listens to the Word of life,
Which I had hoped would ere long enlist
His infant thought, and imbue his tender mind.
In the field, where his sportive feet were wont
To chase the butterfly, I shall walk alone.
Ye beautiful of wing, fly on, and light
On every flower, and rest, and sip its sweets;
His busy hand shall not disturb your rest,
Nor his foot shake the flower on which ye
sit;
Ye need not fear.

Oh, death why, cruel monster,
Didst thou seize on one so young, so active,
And so full of hope? Why wreak thy vengeance
On this bud of genius, unopened yet

By the ripening hand of time, but opening
Fast, unfolding seeds of promise? Why pass
Unfriendly by whom all other friends forsake,
Misfortune's child, the aged, racked with pain,
And the weary of life, to blight one

Who was his parents' hope, a brother's pride?
Why pass by me, on whom the world has frowned
Too long, for whom the world has lost its charms,
And ruthless slay this heir of better hopes,
In whose morning prospect lowered no cloud,
Unstamped with the bow of promise?

4. Be silent, pride, 'tis right, 'tis God directs;
Unerring wisdom guides his deep designs:

Then cease, my soul, to murmur, cease to mourn,
The remnant of thy days devote to Him

Who gave,

and took but what he gave; to Him
Who is thy life, thy hope, and thy reward;
And till those days are numbered, patient wait
Thy own great change: then be thy work finished,
Thy last foe subdued, and thou, triumphant

In redeeming grace, prepared to soar

Above the world of sin, and pain, and death, to that Where friends shall meet, and friendship cease no more!

AMERICAN ATHENEUM

LESSON XXIX.

Grandeur and Moral Interest of American Antiquities.

1. You will expect me to say something of the lonely records of the former races that inhabited this country. That there has, formerly, been a much more numerous population than exists here at present, I am fully impressed, from the result of my own personal observations. From the highest points of the Ohio, to where I am now writing, and far up the upper Mississippi and Missouri, the more the country is explored and peopled, and the more its surface is penetrated, not only are there more mounds brought to view, but more incontestable marks of a numerous population.

2. Wells, artificially walled, different structures of convenience or defence, have been found in such numbers, as no longer to excite curiosity. Ornaments of silver and of copper, pottery, of which I have seen numberless specimens on all these waters; not to mention the mounds themselves, and the still more tangible evidence of human bodies found in a state of preservation, and of sepulchres full of bones; are unquestionable demonstrations, that this country was once possessed of a numerous population. The mounds themselves, though of earth, are not those rude and shapeless heaps, that they have been commonly represented to be. I have seen, for instance, in different parts of the Atlantick country, the breastworks and other defences of earth, that were thrown up by our people during the war of the revolution. None of those monuments date back more than fifty years. These mounds must date back to remote depths in the olden time.

*

3. From the ages of the trees on them, and from other data, we can trace them back six hundred years, leaving it entirely to the imagination to descend farther into the depths of time beyond. And yet, after the rains, the washing, and the crumbling of so many ages, many of them are still twenty-five feet high. All of them are, incomparably, more conspicuous monuments than the works which I just noticed. Some of them are spread over an extent of acres. I have seen, great and small, I should suppose, a hundred. Though diverse, in position and form, they all have a uniform character.

4. They are, for the most part, in rich soils, and in conspicuous situations. Those on the Ohio are covered with very