22. But

courage, O

Ye shall not suffer wreck

While up to God the freedman's prayers
Are rising from your deck.

23. Is not your sail the banner

Which God hath blest anew,

The mantle that De Matha wore,
The red, the white, the blue?

24. Its hues are all of heaven-
The red of sunset's dye,

The whiteness of the moonlit cloud,
The blue of morning's sky.

25. Wait cheerily, then, O mariners,
For daylight and for land,
The breath of God is in your sail,
Your rudder is His hand.

26. Sail on, sail on, deep-freighted
With blessings and with hopes;
The saints of old with shadowy hands
Are pulling at your ropes.

27. Behind you, holy martyrs

Uplift the palm and crown,
Before you, unborn ages send

Their benediction down.

28. Take heart from John de Matha !—
God's errands never fail!

Sweep on through storm and darkness,
The thunder and the hail!

29. Sail on! the morning cometh ;
The port ye yet shall win ;

And all the bells of God shall ring
The good ship bravely in!

LXI. THE FATE OF EUROPEAN KINGS.

THOMAS FRANCIS MEAGHER.

1. I was one evening on the Ohio, when the river had been swollen with recent rains. The current was passing quickly, but with a placidity which reminded me of the old proverb, that "smooth water runs deep." From the various incidents that were going on in the boat about me, and the varying features of the scene through which we were gliding, I turned to one object, which, far more forcibly than the rest, attracted my attention. It was a sycamore tree, a noblelooking tree; noble in its proportions, noble in its profusion, noble in its promise.

2. And the birds were in it, on its topmost branches, striking out their wings, and uttering their quick notes of joy. O! with what a sweet thrill came forth the liquid song from that waving, sparkling foliage; and how confident it made the looker-on, that the tree from which it gushed in a thousand mingling streams would stand and flourish and put forth its beauty, and rejoice in the fragrant breath of the summer, and stoutly defy the shock of the winter, for years to come!

3. It was a dream. I looked downward; the roots were stripped. The earth had been loosened from them, and they glistened like bones, whitened, as they were, with the water which tumbled through them and about them and over them. One hold alone it seemed to have. But the sleepless element was busy upon that. Even while I looked, the soft mold slipped in flakes from the solitary stay which held the tree erect.

4. And there it stood, full of vigor, full of beauty, full of festive life, full of promise, with a grave, perhaps a fathom deep, opened at its feet. The next flood, and the last link must give way. And down must come the lord of the forest, with all his honors, with all his strength, with all his mirth; and the remorseless river shall toss him to the thick slime, and then fling him up again, tearing his tangled finery, and bruising and breaking his proud limbs, until, two thousand miles below, on some stagnant swamp, tired of the

dead prey, the wild pursuer, chafing and foaming from the chase, shall cast a shapeless log ashore.

5. "Such," said I, "shall be the fate of the European Kings." It is now summer with them. The sunbeams gild the domes of their palaces. The helmets, with the crimson manes, burn along those white lines, within which legions countless as those of Xerxes are encamped. Prayers are go ing on in a pavilion on the field. It is the camp near Olmütz.* The golden lamps and cross and vases of the votive altar, fill the air, like the branch of Avernus, with a yellow luster; and the silver trumpets, sounding the thanksgiving, flash their shadows on the purple curtains of the chapel.

6. Elsewhere, I believe in Paris, bridal feasts † are going on; old cathedrals shake from vault to belfry with swelling organs and surging choirs and rolling drums and clanging chimes; and the sun, streaming through the painted windows, mingles its rays with the perfumed smoke of thuribles, and the colored haze of embroidered copes and chasubles, and pennons of silk, and flowers fresh with luscious fragrance. Beauty is clustered there in snowy vesture; and there are princes and warriors of the cities, plumed, and harnessed for the field; and there are senators, and counselors of state, and grand almoners, and doctors of the law, and ministers of police, and other functionaries, assembled likewise, in holiday costume.

7. The market places, and the public squares, and all the public offices, are decked out with floral wreaths, and painted shields, and pendent flags. And there are gay processions through the streets, and market choruses; and barges with carved and gilded prows and silken awnings fringed and tasseled richly, all laden with revelry, are gliding up and down the river. The sun goes down, yet the sky is bright, brighter than at noon. There is a broad avenue, walled on either side, and arched with fire.

8. There are fountains of fire, pillars of fire, temples of fire ("temples of immortality" they call them), arches of fire, pyramids of fire. The fable of the phoenix is more than realized. Above that mass and maze of flames an eagle,

* Convention for the pacification of Germany.

↑ Celebration of Louis Napoleon's marriage.

feathered with flames, spreads his gigantic wings, and mounts and expands, until tower and dome and obelisk are spanned. Visions of Arabian Nights visit the earth again. The wealth and wonders of Nineveh are disentombed. The festival costs one million six hundred thousand francs; all done to order.

9. It is summer with the kings, ay, summer with the kings. Bright leaves are upon the tree, and life and song are among them; but death is at the root. The next flood, and the proud lord shall be uprooted, and the waters shall bear him away, and when they have stripped him of his finery they shall fling him in upon the swamp to rot. Such shall be the fate of the European kings, European aristocracies, European despotisms. Who will lament it? would avert it?

LXII.-NAPOLEON AT REST.

JOHN PIERPONT.

1. His falchion flashed along the Nile;

His hosts he led through Alpine snows;
O'er Moscow's towers, that blazed the while,
His eagle flag unrolled,—and froze.

2. Here sleeps he now, alone! Not one,
Of all the kings whose crown he gave,
Bends o'er his dust;-nor wife nor son
Has ever seen or sought his grave.

3. Behind this sea-girt rock, the star
That led him on from crown to crown
Has sunk; and nations from afar
Gazed as it faded and went down.

4. High is his couch ;-the ocean-flood,
Far, far below, by storms is curled;
So round him heaved, while high he stood,
A stormy and unstable world.

5. Alone he sleeps! The mountain-cloud,
That night hangs round him, and the breath
Of morning scatters, is the shroud

That wraps the conqueror's clay in death.

Who

6. Pause here! The far-off world, at last,

Breathes free; the hand that shook its thrones,
And to the earth its miters cast,

Lies powerless now beneath these stones.

7. Hark! comes there, from the pyramids,
And from Siberian wastes of snow,

And Europe's hills, a voice that bids.
The world he awed to mourn him?—No:

8. The only, the perpetual dirge

That's heard there, is the sea-bird's cry,
The mournful murmur of the surge,

The cloud's deep voice, the wind's low sigh

LXIII.-MY PROPERTY.

HENRY W. BEECHER.

1. I know few men as rich as I am. I scarcely know where I amassed all my treasures. I have but a few things at home, and they are very precious, animate and inanimate. But, dear me, if you suppose that that is all I own, you never were more mistaken in

your life!

2. I have every ship that comes into New York Harbor, but without any of the gross trouble which those deluded men have who think they own them. I never concern myself about the crews or officers, about freight or voyage, about expenses or losses. All this would be wearisome. I have certain men who look after these things, while I am left to the pure enjoyment of their beauty, their coming and going, the singing of the anchor-hoisting crew.

3. I go about the wharves, watch the packages going in or coming out of ships. The outlandish inscriptions, the ceroons of indigo piled up, the stacks of tea-chests, the bales and boxes, the wine and spices, all pass under my inspection. I say inwardly to the men: "Let these things be taken care of without troubling me," and I am obeyed. I have also many ship-yards, where they are building all kinds of craft.