when thy mountains reëcho the thunder of the cannons of thy liberators! God be with you, dear comrades and fellow-sufferers! The angels of God and of liberty be with you. You may still be proud, for the lion of Europe had to be aroused to conquer the rebels! The whole civilized world has admired you as heroes, and the cause of the heroic nations will be supported by the freest of the free nations on earth!

6. God be with thee, sacred soil! drenched with the blood of so many of thy noble sons! Preserve these sacred spots, that they may give evidence before the world for you, before the people, that will come to your succor! God be with thee, young King of the Magyars, forget not that thy nation has not elected thee! There lives in me still the hope that a day will come, on which you will see the confirmation of the word— if it even be on the ruins of Buda! The blessing of the Almighty, my dear nation, rest upon thee. Believe-Loveand Hope!

LESSON XLII.

PULPIT ELOQUENCE.

MRS. WELBY.

1. THE day was declining the breeze in its glee
Had left the fair blossoms to sing on the sea,
As the sun in its gorgeousness, radiant and still,
Dropped down like a gem from the brow of the hill,

One tremulous star in the glory of June

Came out with a smile and sat down by the moon,

As she graced her blue throne with the pride of a queen:
The smiles of her loveliness gladdened the scene.

2. The scene was enchanting! in distance away

Rolled the foam-crested waves of the Chesapeake Bay,

While bathing in moonlight the village was seen
With the church in the distance that stood on the green,
The soft, sleeping meadows lay brightly unrolled,
With their mantles of verdure and blossoms of gold,

And the earth in her beauty, forgetting to grieve,
Lay asleep in her bloom on the bosom of eve.

3. A light-hearted child, I had wandered away

From the spot where my footsteps had gamboled all day;
And free as a bird's, was the song of my soul,
As I heard the wild waters exultingly roll;
While lightening my heart as I sported along,
With bursts of low laughter and snatches of song,
I struck in the pathway half-worn o'er the sod
By the feet that went up to the worship of God.

4. As I traced its green windings, a murmur of prayer
With the hymn of the worshipers rose on the air,
And drawn by the links of its sweetness along,
I stood unobserved in the midst of the throng.
For awhile my young spirit still wandered about
With the birds, and the winds, that were singing without;
But, birds, waves, and zephyrs, were quickly forgot
In one angel-like being that brightened the spot.

5. In stature majestic, apart from the throng

He stood in his beauty, the theme of my song!
His cheek pale with fervor,—the blue orbs above
Lit up with the splendors of youth and of love,
Yet the heart-glowing rapture that beamed from those eyes,
Seemed saddened by sorrow and chastened by sighs,
As if the young heart in its bloom had grown cold,
With its loves unrequited, its sorrows untold.

6. Such language as his may I never recall,
But his theme was salvation-salvation to all!

And the souls of a thousand in ecstacy hung

On the manna-like sweetness that dropped from his tongue. Not alone on the ear his wild eloquence stole,

Enforced by each gesture, it sunk to the soul,

Till it seemed that an angel had brightened the sod,
And brought to each bosom a message from God.

7. He spoke of the Savior—what pictures he drew!
The scenes of His sufferings rose clear on my view
The cross- the rude cross where He suffered and died;
The gush of bright crimson that flowed from His side;
The of His sorrows
cup
the wormwood and gall;

The darkness that mantled the earth as a pall;

The garland of thorns and the demon-like crews

Who knelt as they scoffed Him, "Hail King of the Jews!"

8. He spoke, and it seemed that his statue like form Expanded and glowed as his spirit grew warm;

His tone so impassioned so melting his air,

-

As touched with compassion, he ended in prayer;
His hands clasped above him, his blue orbs upthrown,
Still pleading for sins that were never his
While that mouth where such sweetness ineffable clung,
Still spoke, though expression had died on his tongue!

own,

9. O God! what emotions the speaker awoke

A mortal he seemed

- yet a deity spoke; A man- - yet so far from humanity riven;

On earth yet so closely connected with heaven;
How oft in my fancy I've pictured him there,
As he stood in that triumph of passion and prayer,
With his eyes closed in rapture — their transient eclipse
Made bright by the smiles that illumined his lips.

10. There's a charm in delivery, a magical art,

That thrills like a kiss from the lip to the heart;

'Tis the glance, the expression, the well chosen word,
By whose magic the depths of the spirit are stirred ;
The smile, the mute gesture, the soul-startling pause,
The eye's sweet expresssion, that melts while it awes
The lip's soft persuasion, its musical tone,—

Oh such was the charm of that eloquent one!

11. The time is long past, yet how clearly defined
That bay, church, and village, float on my mind;
I see amid azure the moon in her pride,
With the sweet little trembler that sat by her side;
I hear the blue waves, as she wanders along,
Leap up in their gladness and sing her a song,
And I tread in the pathway half-worn o'er the sod,
By the feet that went up to the worship of God.
12. The time is long past, yet what visions I see!
The past, the dim past, is the present to me.
I am standing once more 'mid the heart-stricken throng!
A vision floats up- 'tis the theme of my song-
All glorious and bright as a ́spirit of air,

The light like a halo encircling his hair,

As I catch the same accents of sweetness and love,
He whispers of Jesus, and points us above.

13. How sweet to my heart is the picture I've traced!
Its chain of bright fancies seemed almost effaced,
Till Memory, the fond one, that sits in the soul,
Took up the frail links, and collected the whole.
As the dew to the blossom, the bud to the bee,

As the scent to the rose, are those memories to me;

Round the chords of my heart they have tremblingly clung,
And the echo it gives, is the song I have

sung.

LESSON XLIII.

TRAGIC FATE OF ELIZA.

DARWIN.

1. Now stood Eliza on the wood crowned height,
O'er Minden's plain, spectatress of the fight;
Sought with bold eye, amid the bloody strife,
Her dearer self, the partner of her life;
From hill to hill the rushing host pursued,
And viewed his banner, or believed she viewed.
Pleased with the distant roar, with quicker tread,
Fast by his hand one lisping boy she led;
And one fair girl, amid the loud alarm,
Slept on her kerchief, cradled by her arm;
While round her brows bright beams of honor dart,
And love's warm eddies circle round her heart.
Near and more near the intrepid beauty pressed,-
Saw through the driving smoke his dancing crest,
Heard the exulting shout, "They run! they run!"
"Great God!" she cried, "he's safe! the battle's won!"

2. A ball now hisses through the airy tides,

(Some fury wings it, and some demon guides,) Parts the fine locks, her graceful head that deck, Wounds her fair ear and sinks into her neck; The red stream issuing from her azure veins, Dyes her white vail, her ivory bosom stains. "Ah me!" she cried, and sinking on the ground, Kissed her dear babes regardless of the wound. 3. "Oh, cease not yet to beat, thou vital urn! Wait, gushing life, oh, wait my love's return! Hoarse barks the wolf, the vulture screams from far! The angel, pity, shuns the walks of war!