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but even that ended. Shrift there was none; churches and chapels were open, but neither priests nor peni

tent entered; all went to the charnel-house. The sex35 ton and the physician were cast into the same deep and

wide grave:—the testator and his heirs and executors were hurled from the same cart into the same hole together. Fire became extinguished, as if its element

too had expired: the seams of the sailorless ships yawn40 ed to the sun. Though doors were open, and coffers

unwatched, there was no theft; all offences ceased, and no calamity but the universal wo of the pestilence was heard among men.

The wells overflowed, and the conduits ran to waste; the dogs banded themselves together, 45 having lost their masters, and ran howling over all the

land; horses perished of famine in their stalls; old friends but looked at one another when they met, keeping themselves far aloof; creditors claimed no debts, and courtiers

performed their promises; little children went wander50 ing up and down, and numbers were seen dead in all

Nor was it only in England that the plague so raged: it travelled over a third part of the whole earth, like the shadow of an eclipse, as if some dreadful thing

had been interposed between the world and the sun55 source of life.

At that epoch, for a short time, there was a silence, and every person in the street, for a moment stood still; London was as dumb as a churchyard. Again

the sound of a bell was heard; for it was that sound, so 60 long unheard, which arrested the fugitive multitude,

and caused their silence. At the third toll a universal shout arose, as when the herald proclaims the tidings of a great battle won, and then there was a second silence.

The people fell on their knees, and with anthems of 65 thankfulness rejoiced in the dismal sound of that tolling

death-bell; for it was a signal of the plague being so abated that men might again mourn for their friends, and hallow their remains with the solemnities of burial.





Exercise 52.

Battle of Borodino.-ANONYMOUS.
The night passed slowly over the wakeful heads of the
impatient combatants. The morning of the 7th of
September at length broke, and thousands beheld the

dawn for the last time.-The moment was arrived, when 5 the dreadful discharge of two thousand cannon was to

break the silence of expectation, and arouse at once all the horrors of war. General as the attack seemed, the corps of Prince Bagration had to sustain the accumulat

ing weight of nearly half the French army; and the de 10 termination shown by its cavalry was so desperate, that

they charged up to the mouth of the Russian guns.Whole regiments of them, both horses and men, were swept down by the cannon shot; and all along the front

of Bagration's line, arose a breast-work of dead and dy15 ing. Napoleon ordered up fifty additional pieces of ar

tillery, and a fresh division of infantry, with several re giments of dragoons. This new force rushed on, over the bodies of their fallen countrymen, and did not allow

themselves to be checked until they reached the para20 pets of the Russian works. Their vigorous onset over

turned with fierce slaughter every thing that opposed them, and obliged Bagration to fall back nearer to the second line of the army. The rage of battle at this cri

sis is not to be described. The thunder of a thousand 25 pieces of artillery was answered by the discharge of an

equal number on the part of the Russians. A veil of smoke shut out the combatants from the sun, and left them no other light to pursue the work of death than

the flashes of musketry, which blazed in every direction. 30 The sabres of 40,000 dragoons met each other, and

clashed in the horrid gloom; and the bristling points of countless bayonets, bursting through the rolling vapor, strewed the earth with heaps of slain.

Such was the scene for an extent of many wersts, and 35 the dreadful contest continued without cessation until

the darkness of the night. This closed that memorable day, and with it terminated the lives of eighty thousand human beings. The horses which lay on the ground, from right to left, numbered full 25,000.

40 The next day, says Labaume, very early in the morn

ing, we returned to the field of battle.-In the space of a square league, almost every spot was covered with the killed and wounded.—On many places, the bursting of

the shells had promiscuously heaped together men and 45 horses.

But the most horrid spectacle was the interior of the ravines; almost all the wounded, who were able to drag themselves along, had taken refuge there, to avoid the

shot." These miserable wretches, heaped one upon an50 other, and almost suffocated with blood, uttering the

most dreadful groans, and invoking death with piercing cries, eagerly besought us to put an end to their torments.


Shipwreck.-FREDERICKSBURG Arena.
In the winter of 1825_Lieutenant G-

of the United States Navy, with his beautiful wife (the most lovely female my eyes ever beheld) and infant child,

embarked in a packet at Norfolk, bound to South Caro5 lina. 'Tis true the weather was extremely cold, but as

the wind was favourable, this mode of getting to their friends was not considered more hazardous, than the same trip by stages through the swamps and sands of

the Carolinas. Besides, the vessel in which they sailed 10 was a well known and popular trader, and had never

encountered an accident in making her numerous voyages. For the first day and night after their departure, the wind continued fair, and the weather clear; but on

the evening of the second day, they being then in sight 15 of the coast of North Carolina, a severe gale sprung up

from the northward and westward, and towards midnight, the Captain, judging himself much farther from the land than he really was, and dreading the gulf stream,

hauled in for the coast; but with the intention, it is 20 presumed, of laying to,

when he supposed himself clear of the Gulf. Lieut. G - did not approve of the Captain's determination to stand in for land, and the result proved that his objections were well founded; for about four A. M. the vessel grounded. Vain would it be

25 to attempt a description of the horror which was depict

ed in every countenance when the awful shock, occasioned by the striking of the vessel's bottom, was first experienced. The terrors of such a situation can be

known only to those who have themselves been ship 30 wrecked. None others can have a tolerable idea of

what passed in the minds of the wretched crew, as they gazed with vacant horror on the threatening elements, and felt that their frail bark must soon, perhaps the

next thump, be dashed to pieces, and they left at the 35 mercy of the billows, with not even a plank between

themselves and eternity! First comes the thumping of the vessel-next the breaking of the raging surge over her sides—then the receding for an instant of the

waves, causing the vessel to careen on her beam ends 40 and lastly, the crashing of the spars and timbers by the

returning rollers—the whole exhibiting a scene of confusion and horror, of which the most vivid language could afford but a cold and faint picture. But awful as

this is, cheerless as are the shipwrecked sailor's pros 45 pects, what are his feelings compared to the agony of a

fond husband and father, who clasps in a last embrace his little world, his beloved wife and child!

Although conscious of the hopelessness of his situation—that to remain by the vessel was death! and to 50 seek the shore, which, now that the day began to dawn,

had become visible, was scarcely less perilous; still
every feeling of his nol nature prompted him to ac
My friend was a seaman, and a brave one: accustomed

to danger, and quick in seizing upon every means of 55 rescuing the unfortunate. But now, who were the un

fortunate that called upon him for rescue? who were they whose screams were heard louder than the roaring elements, imploring that aid which no human power

could afford them? His wife and child! O! heart60 rending agony! But why attempt to describe what few

can imagine? The subject is too appalling to admit of amplification. In a word, then, the only boat which could be got at was manned by two gallant tars. Mrs. G

and child, and its nurse, were lifted into it65 it was the thought of desperation! The freight was

already too much. Mr. G saw this, and knew that the addition of himself would diminish the chances

of the boat reaching the shore in safety; and much as

he deplored the necessity-horrible as was the alterna70 tive-- he himself gave the order;—"Push off, and make

for the land, my brave lads!”—the last words which ever passed his lips! The order was obeyed; but ere the little boat had proceeded fifty yards, (about half the

distance to the beach) it was struck on the quarter by a 75 roller, capsized, and boat, passengers, and all, enveloped,

for a time, in the angry surge! The wretched husband saw but too distinctly what seemed to be the destruction of all that he held dear! But here, alas, and for

ever, were shut out from him all sublunary prospects! 80 He fell upon the deck powerless-senseless-A CORPse!

the victim of a sublime sensibility! But what became of the unhappy wife and child? The answer shall be brief; Mrs. G was borne through the breakers

to the shore, by one of the brave sailors; the nurse was 85 thrown upon the beach, with the drowned infant grasp ed in her arms.

The nurse survived. Mrs. Gwas taken to a hut senseless-continued delirious many days, but finally recovered her senses, and with them a

consciousness of the awful catastrophe which in a mo90 ment made her A CHILDLESS WIDOW.


The Bucket.-A Cold-Water Song:-WOODWORTH. 1 How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood!

When fond recollection presents them to view; The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wild-wood,

And every loved spot which my infancy knew;
The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it,

The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell;
The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it,
And e'en the rude bucket which hung in the well;

The old oaken bucket-the iron-bound bucket

The moss covered bucket, which hung in the well. 2 That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure

For often at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure,

The purest and sweetest that nature can yield.

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