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The sea, the blue lone sea, hath one,
He lies where pearls lie deep;
O’er his low bed may weep.
One sleeps where southern vines are dressed
Above the noble slain ;
On a blood-red field of Spain.
And one-o'er her the myrtle showers
Its leaves, by soft winds fanned ;
The last of that bright band.
And parted thus, they rest who played
Beneath the same green tree;
Around one parent knee,
They that with smiles lit up the hall,
CIV.— THE RESCUE OF THE LAMB.
Sodwr, n., aid in distress.
GUARD'I-AN, n., a defender.
Walker and Worcester pronounce leaped lēpt, rhyming with kept.
I shall tell you truth. A lamb
'Cross the brook its thoughtless dam.
Rain had fallen, unceasing rain ;
But, as chanced, a cottage maiden
(Ten years scarcely had she told) Seeing, plunged into the torrent,
Clasped the lamb, and kept her hold.
Whirled adown the rocky channel,
Sinking, rising, on they go,
Only in the lake below!
0! it was a frightful current,
Whose fierce wrath the girl had braved ;-
Shout in triumph — both are saved !
Saved by courage that with danger
Grew — by strength, the gift of love!
WM. WORDSWORTH. (1770 — 1860.)
1. THE English have never displayed the same thirst of discovery as the Spaniards and French, either in North or South America. A love of adventure, an eager curiosity, a desire of change, or some like motive, had carried the French all over the continent, while the English colonists continued quietly vid hin
their own limits. The French missionaries coasted along the lakes, and descended the Mississippi, a whole century before the Virginians began to cross the. Alleghany ridge, to get a glimpse of the noble inheritance, which had remained undisturbed for centuries, waiting their coming
2. It was not till the year 1767,— only eight years before the breaking out of the revolutionary war,—that John Finley, of North Carolina, descended into Kentucky for the purpose of hunting and trading. The feelings of wonder and delight experienced by this early pioneer in passing through the rich lands, which were filled with deer, buffaloes, and every kind of game, and covered with the majestic growth of centuries, soon communicated themselves to others. Like the spies, who returned from Palestine, they declared, “The land, which we passed through to search it, is an exceeding good land.” They compared it to parks and gardens, or a succession of farms stocked with cattle, and full of birds tame as barn-yard poultry.
3. Instigated by these descriptions, in 1769, Daniel Boone, a man much distinguished for bravery and skill, entered Kentucky. And now commenced a scene of enterprise, romantic adventure, chiv'alric daring, and patient endurance, not surpassed in the history of modern times. Nothing in those voluminous tales of knight-ěrrantry, which occupied the leisure of pages and squires of old baronial days, or in the Waverley novels and their train of romances of the second class, which amuse modern gentlemen and ladies, — nothing in these works of imagination can exceed the reälities of early Kentucky history.
4. From 1769 till Wayne's victory on the Maumee, in 1794, a period of twenty-five years, including the whole revolutionary war, the people of Kentucky were engaged in Indian warfare, for life and home.
Surrounded by an enemy far outnumbering them, deadly in hatred, of ferocious cruelty, wielding the same rifle with themselves, and as skillful in its use,– the intrepid immigrants took possession of the country, felled the forest, built towns, laid out roads, and changed the wilderness into a garden.
5. No man could open his cabin-door, in the morning, without danger of receiving a rifle-bullet from a lurking Indian; no woman could go out to milk the cows, without risk of having a scalping-knife at her forehead before she returned. Many a man returned from hunting, only to find a smoking ruin where he had left a happy home with wife and children. But did this constant danger create a constant anxiety? Did they live in terror? Fightings were without; were fears within ? By no means.
6. If you talk with the survivors of those days, they will tell you: “We soon came to think ourselves as good men as the Indians. We believed we were as strong as they, as good marksmen, as quick of sight, and as likely to see them as they were to see us; so there was no use in being afraid of them.” The danger produced a constant watchfulness, an active intelligence, a prompt decision; traits still strongly apparent in the Kentucky character; traits which have done much for the prosperity of the people.
7. By the same causes, other, more amiable and social qualities, were developed. While every man was forced to depend on himself, and trust to his own courage, coolness and skill, every man felt that he depended on his neighbor for help in cases where his own powers could no longer avail him.. And no man could decline making an effort for another, when he knew that he might need a like aid before the sun went down. Hence we have frequent examples of one man risking his life to save that of another, and of des
perate exertions made for the common safety of the dwellers in fort or stockade.
8. Can we, then, wonder at the strong family attach. ments still existing in Kentucky? The remembrance of hours of common danger, and mutual sacrifice, and generous disregard of self, must have sunk deep into the hearts of those earnest men, the early settlers.
He saved my life, at the risk of his own.” “He helped me bring back my wife from the Indians.” “He shot the man who was about to dash out my infant's brains.” Here was a foundation for friendships, which nothing could root up.
9. “Whispering tongues can poison truth ;” but no tongues could do away such evidences of true friendship as these. No subsequent coldness, no after injury, could efface their remembrance. They must have been treasured up, in the deepest cells of the heart, with a sacred gratitude, a religious care. And hence, while Indian warfare developed all the stronger and selfrelying faculties, it cultivated also all the sympathies, the confiding trust, the generous affections, which, to the present hour, are marked on the heart of that people's character.
1. We have been frequently told that the farmer should attend to the plow, and the mechanic to his