defences of ourselves must soon cease. Death stiffens the smooth tongue of flattery, and blots out, with one stroke, all the ingenious excuses, which we have spent our lives in framing. At the marriage-supper, the places of those who refused to come, were soon filled by a multitude of delighted guests. The God of heaven needs not our presence to adorn his table, for whether we accept, or whether we reject his gracious invitation, whether those who were bidden taste or not of his supper, his house shall be filled. Though many are called and few chosen, yet Christ has not died in vain, religion is not without its witnesses, or heaven without its inhabitants. Let us then remember, that one thing is needful, and that there is a better part than all the pleasures and selfish pursuits of this world, a part which we are encouraged to secure, and which can never be taken away. O THOU Parnassus! whom I now survey, -BYRON. But soaring, snow-clad, through thy native sky, What marvel that I thus essay to sing? The humblest of thy pilgrims, passing by, Would gladly woo thine Echoes with his string, Though from thy heights no more one Muse shall wave her wing. *Written in Castri, the ancient Delphi; at the foot of Parnassus, now called Liakura. Oft have I dreamed of thee! whose glorious name That I, in feeblest accents, must adore. Happier in this than mightiest bards have been, Which others rave of, though they know it not? Though here no more Apollo haunts his grot, And thou, the Muses' seat, art now their grave, Some gentle spirit still pervades the spot, Sighs in the gale, keeps silence in the cave, LESSON XLIX. Mont Blanc: - The Hour before Sunrise. COLERIDGE HAST thou a charm to stay the morning star Rave ceaselessly, while thou, dread mountain form, O dread and silent form! I gazed on thee Didst vanish from my thought. Entranced in prayer, Yet thou, methinks, wast working on my soul, So sweet we know not we are listening to it. But I awake, and with a busier mind, And passive adoration. Hand and voice Awake, awake! and thou, my heart, awake! Or when they climb the sky, or when they sink, Who sank thy sunless pillars in the earth? Your strength, your speed, your fury, and your joy, And who commanded and the silence came, Adown enormous ravines steeply slope, Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty noise, Who made you glorious as the gates of heaven, The silent snow-mass, loosening, thunders, God! In adoration, I again behold, And to thy summit upward from thy base LESSON L. The Last Days of Herculaneum.· SCRAP BOOK. A GREAT city - situated amidst all that nature could create of beauty and of profusion, or art collect of science and magnificence-the growth of many ages- the residence of enlightened multitudes - the scene of splendor, and festivity, and happiness-in one moment withered as by a spell — its palaces, its streets, its temples, its gardens, "glowing with eternal spring," and its inhabitants in the full enjoyment of all life's blessings, obliterated from their very place in creation, not by war or famine, or disease, or any of the natural causes of destruction, to which earth had been accustomed but in a single night, as if by magic, and amid the conflagration, as it were, of nature itself, presented a subject on which the wildest imagination might grow weary without even equalling the grand and terrible reality. The eruption of Vesuvius, by which Herculaneum and Pompeiit were overwhelmed, has been chiefly described to us in the letters of Pliny the younger to Tacitus, giving an account of his uncle's fate, and the situation of the writer and his mother. The elder Pliny had just returned from the bath, and was retired to his study, when a small speck or cloud, which seemed to ascend from Mount Vesuvius, attracted his attention. This cloud gradually increased, and at length assumed the shape of a pine-tree, the trunk of earth and vapor, and the leaves, "red cinders." Pliny ordered his galley, and, urged by his philosophic spirit, went forward to inspect the phenomenon. In a short time, however, philosophy gave way to humanity, and he zealously and adventurously employed his galley in saving the inhabitants of the various beautiful villas which studded that enchanting coast. Amongst * Pron, a as in father. † Pom-på-ye. |