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white form leaped away, and, with almost a single bound of more than two thousand feet, came directly into our path, a short distance before us.

5. As it struck the earth, the crushed snow rose like vapor from the foot of a cataract, and rolled away in a cloud of mist over a hill of fir trees. The shock was like a falling rock, and the echo sounded along the Alpine heights, like the roll of far-off cannon, and died away over their distant tops.

6. One of the guides, an old traveller in the Alps, said, that in all his wanderings he had never seen any thing equal to it. That serene peak, resting far away up in the clear, rare atmosphere, the sudden commotion, and that swift-descending form of terror, are amo

mong the distinct and vivid things of memory.

7. As we rounded the point where this avalanche struck, we came nearly under the most awful precipice that I ever saw or dreamed of. How high that perpendicular wall of Alpine limestone may be, I dare not hazard a conjecture; but it makes one hold his breath in awe and dread, to look upon it.

8. In our descent, we came upon a perfectly level, smooth, and green pasturage. A gentle rivulet skirted one side of it, while at one end stood a single Swiss cottage. I left the path, that went into the hills from the farther corner, and rode to the end and looked back.

9. From my horse's feet, up to the very cliffs that frown in savage grandeur over it, went that sweet greensward; while at the left, rose a glacier of the purest white, that fairly dazzled the eyes, as the sunbeams fell in their noontide splendor upon it

10. That beautiful, quiet plat of ground, the dark fir trees around it, the cliffs that leaned above it, and that spiritually white glacier, contrasting with the bright green below, combined to form a group and a picture, that seemed more like a vision thai a real scene.

11. I gazed in silent rapture upon it, drinking in the beauty and strangeness of that scene, till I longed to pitch my tent there forever. That level greensward seemed to rest like a fearless, innocent child in the rough embrace of the great forms around it. It was to me the gem of Alpine valleys.

12. There is no outward emblem of peace and quietness, so striking as one of these green spots amid the Alps. The surface of a summer lake stirred by no breeze, the quiet night and quieter stars, are not so full of repose.

The contrast is not so great.

13. Place that quiet lake amid roaring billows, and the repose it symbolized would be doubly felt. So amid the Alps. The awful scenery, that folds in one of those sweet spots of greensward, makes it seem doubly sweet and green. It imparts a sort of consciousness to the whole, as if there were a serene trust, a feeling of innocence, in the brightly-smiling meadow.

14. It seems to let itself be embraced by those rude and terrific forms, without the least fear, and smiles back in their stern and savage faces, as if it knew it could not be harmed; and the snow peaks and threatening precipices look as if proud of their innocent child, guarding it with savage tenderness.

15. What beauty God has scattered over the earth! On the framework of the hills, and the valleys they enclose, on cliff and stream, sky and earth, he has drawn the lines of beauty and deur, with a pencil that never errs. But especially amid the Alps, does he seem to have wrought with sublimest skill.

16. All over its peaks and abysses, has he thrown the mantle of his majesty ; while its strong avalanches, falling all alone into solitudes where the

granfoot of man has never trod, and the wing of the eagle never stooped, speak “eternally of Him." “ The ice hills," as they leap away from their high resting-place, thunder, 6 God!”

KÖRNER'S BATTLE HYMN.

1. Father of earth and heaven! I call thy name!

Round me the smoke and shout of battle roll; My eyes are dazzled with the rustling flame;

Father! sustain an untried soldier's soul.

Or life, or death, whatever be the goal That crowns or closes round this struggling hour,

Thou knowest, if ever from my spirit stole One deeper prayer, 'twas that no cloud might lower On my young fame! O, hear, God of eternal

power!

2. God! thou art merciful! The wintry storm,

The cloud that pours the thunder from its womb, But show the sterner grandeur of thy form. The lightnings, glancing through the midnight

gloom, To Faith's faised eye as calm, as lovely come, As splendors of the authnal evening star,

Or the sweet fragrance of the rose's bloom, When like cool incense comes the dewy air, And on the golden wave the sunset burns afar.

3. God! thou art mighty! At thy footstool bound,

Lie, gazing to thee, Chance, and Life, and

Death ;

Nor in the angel-circle flaming round,

Nor in the million worlds that blaze beneath,
Is one that can withstand thy wrath's hot breath

Woe in thy frown ! in thy smile, victory!

Hear my last prayer! I ask no mortal wreath,
Let but these eyes my rescued country see,
Then take my spirit, Ali-Omnipotent, to thee!

4. Now for the fight! now for the cannon peal ! Forward! through blood, and toil, and cloud,

and fire!
Glorious the shout, the shock, the crash of steel,

The volley's roll, the rocket's blasting spire!
They shake! like broken waves their squares

retire!
On them, hussars! Now give them rein and heel;

Think of the orphaned child, the murdered sire: Earth cries for blood! In thunder on them wheel! This hour to Europe's fate shall set the triumph

seal!

19

THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN.

1. Here is a whaling vessel in the harbor, her anchors up, and her sails unfurled. The last boat has left her, and she is now departing on a voyage of three, and perhaps four years in length. All that the eye sees is, that she is a strong ship, well manned and well provided for the seas.

2. Those on board will spend years of toil, and will then return; while the profits of the voyage will be distributed, as the case may be, to be squandered, or to be added to already existing hoards. So much appears. But there is an unpublished history, which, could it be revealed and brought vividly before the mind, would transfigure her, and enshrine her in an almost awful light.

3. There is not a stick of timber in her whole frame, not a plank, or a rope, which is not, in some

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turer years,

mysterious way, enveloped with human interests and sympathies. Let us trace this part of her history, while she circles the globe and returns to the harbor from which she sailed.

4. At the outset, the labor of the merchant, the carpenter, and of all employed on her, has not been mere sordid labor. The thought of their homes, of their children, and of what this labor may secure for them, has been in their hearts.

5. And they who sail in her leave behind, homes, wives, children, parents; and years before they return, those who are dearest to them may be in their tombs. What bitter partings, as if by the graves brink, are those which take place, when the signal to unmoor calls them on board !

6. There are among them young men, married, perhaps, but a few weeks before; those too of ma

whose
young

children cleave to their hearts as they go. How deeply, as the good ship sails out into the open sea, is she freighted with memories and affections! Every eye is turned towards the receding coast, as if the pangs of another farewell were to be endured.

7. Fade slowly, shores that encircle their homes ! Shine brightly, ye skies, over those dear ones whom they leave behind! They round the capes of continents; they traverse every zone; their keel crosses every sea; but still, brighter than the southern cross or the polar star, shines on their souls the light of their distant home.

8. In the calm moonlight, rise before the mariner the forms of those he loves; in the pauses of the gale, he hears the voices of his children. Beat upon by the tempest, worn down with labor, he endures ali. Welcome, care and toil, if these may bring peace and happiness to those dear ones, who meet around bis distant fireside.

9. And the thoughts of those in that home, com

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