enes; but the most frightful recollections crowded nd all the horrors of the day again passed in rey wearied senses seemed, at last, sinking into en the light of a near and dreadful conflagration, to my room, suddenly awoke me. I thought that r was a prey to the flames. It was no idle dream; approached the window, I saw that our quarters e, and that the house in which I lodged was in danger. Sparks were thickly falling in our yard wooden roofs of our stables. ickly to my landlord and his family. Perceiving er, they had already quitted their habitation, and d to a subterranean vault, which afforded them ity. I found them, with their servants, all assem; nor could I prevail on them to leave it, for they ur soldiers more than the fire. The father was the threshold of the vault, and appeared desirous posing himself to the calamities which threatened . Two of his daughters, pale, with dishevelled whose tears added to their beauty, disputed with onor of the sacrifice. It was not without violence d snatch them from the building, under which they erwise soon have been buried. When these unatures again saw the light, they contemplated with ze the loss of all their property, and were only - that they were still alive. s of terminating the recital of this horrible cataswhich history wants expressions, and poetry has I shall pass over in silence many circumstances co humanity, and merely describe the dreadful conich arose in our army when the fire had reached of Moscow, and the whole city was become one Hame. fferent streets could no longer be distinguished, laces, on which the houses had stood, were marked onfused piles of stones, calcined and black. The wing with violence, howled mournfully, and overus with ashes, with burning fragments, and even ron plates which covered the palace. On whatever turned, we saw only ruins and flame The fire ged as if it were fanned by some invisible power. The ost extensive ranges of buildings seemed to kindle, to burn, ■d to disappear in an instant. As we again traversed the streets of Moscow, we expericed the most heart-rending sensations, at perceiving that vestige remained of those noble hotels, at which we had rmerly been established. They were entirely demolished, d their ruins, still smoking, exhaled a vapor which, filling e whole atmosphere, and forming the densest clouds, either tally obscured the sun, or gave to his disk a red and bloody pearance. The outline of the streets was no longer to be stinguished. The stone palaces were the only buildings hich preserved any traces of their former magnificence. canding alone amidst piles of ruins, and blackened with noke, these wrecks of a city, so newly built, resembled me of the venerable remains of antiquity. Each one endeavored to find quarters for himself; but rely could we meet with houses which joined together · ad, to shelter a few companies, we were obliged to occupy a st tract of land, which only offered a few habitations, scatred here and there. Some of the churches, composed of ss combustible materials than the other buildings, had their ofs entire, and were transformed into barracks and stables. he hymns and holy melodies, which had once resounded thin these sacred walls, now gave place to the neighing of orses, and the horrible blasphemies of the soldiers. Although the population of Moscow had almost disappear, there still remained some of those unfortunate beings, hom misery had accustomed to look on all occurrences with difference. Most of them had become the menial servants their spoilers, and thought themselves most happy if they ere permitted to share any loathsome food which the soldiers jected. Many of the Moscovites, who had been concealed in the eighboring forests, perceiving that the conflagration had eased, and believing that they had nothing more to fear, ad reëntered the city. Some of them sought in vain for eir houses, the very sites of which could scarcely be discov-ed; others would fain have taken refuge in the sanctuary their God; but it had been profaned. The public walks a revolting spectacle. The ground was thickly th dead bodies; and from many of the half-burnt suspended the carcasses of incendiaries. idst of these horrors were seen many of the unnhabitants, who, destitute of every asylum, were he charred planks, to construct a cabin in some ed place, or ravaged garden. Having nothing to agerly dug the earth, to find the roots of those vegch the soldiers had gathered; or, wandering among hey diligently searched among the cinders for any the fire had not entirely consumed. Pale, emaI almost naked, the very slowness of their walk the excess of their sufferings. LESSON CX. iew of Mont Blanc at Sunset.-GRISCOM. ved, before sundown, at the village of St. Martin, were to stay for the night. The evening being fine, we crossed the Arvé on a beautiful bridge, I over to Salenche, a very considerable village, op. Martin, and ascended a hill to view the effect of eclining light upon Mont Blanc. The scene was d. The broad range of the mountain was fully of a pure and almost glowing white, apparently to se; and which, contrasted with the brown tints of ing mountains, greatly heightened the novelty of We could scarcely avoid the conclusion, that this snow was very near us; and yet its base was not fteen, and its summit, probably, more than twenty the place where we stood. ying rays of light, produced by reflection from the sing, as the sun's rays declined, from a brill ant ugh purple and pink, and ending in the gentle h the snow gives after the sun has set, afforded an in optics upon a scale of grandeur, which no c.her gion in the world could probably excel. Never, in my life, ve my feelings been so powerfully affected by mere scenery they were in this day's excursion. The excitement, though tended by sensations awfully impressive, is, nevertheless, so ely attempered by the glow of novelty, incessantly mingled th astonishment and admiration, as to produce, on the hole, a feast of delight. A few years ago, I stood upon Table Rock, and placed my ane in the descending flood of Niagara. Its tremendous ar almost entirely precluded conversation with the friend at y side; while its whirlwind of mist and foam filled the air a great distance around me. The rainbow sported in its som; the gulf below exhibited the wild fury of an imense boiling caldron; while the rapids above, for the space nearly a mile, appeared like a mountain of billows, chafing ad dashing against each other with thundering impetuosity, their eager strife to gain the precipice, and take the awful ap. In contemplating this scene, my imagination and my heart ere filled with sublime and tender emotions. The soul emed to be brought a step nearer to the presence of that comprehensible Being, whose spirit dwelt in every feature the cataract, and directed all its amazing energies. Yet, the scenery of this day, there was more of a pervading nse of awful and unlimited grandeur; mountain piled upon ountain, in endless continuity, throughout the whole extent, nd crowned by the brightest effulgence of an evening sun, on the everlasting snows of the highest pinnacle of Europe. LESSON CXI. To the Stars.-CROLY. YE stars, bright legions, that, before all time, Who bade through heaven your golden chariots wheel? who, earthborn, can see your hosts, nor feel al impulses-Eternity? wonder if the o'erwrought soul should reel = own weight of thought, and the wild eye ithin your tracks of sleepless glory lie? behold the Mightiest.-From that steep, ages have ye worshipped round your King! d his trumpet sounding o'er the sleep arth; ye heard the morning angels sing. that orb, now o'er me quivering, ze of Adam fixed from Paradise; wanderers of the deluge saw it spring The mountain surge, and hailed its rise, heir lonely track with Hope's celestial dyes. wary shot down that purple eye, , but the soldier and the sacrifice, e departed-Mount of Agony! Time's broad pinion, ere the giant dies, cloud your dome :-ye fruitage of the skies, neyard shall be shaken. From your urn, ers of heaven, no more shall glory rise, cense to the throne. The heavens shall burn! ur pomps are dust, and shall to dust return' LESSON CXII. Sabbath Morning.-GRAHAME. still the morning of the hallowed day! ughboy's whistle, and the milkmaid's song. |