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1. We were crowded in the cabin;

Not a soul would dare to sleep;
It was midnight on the waters,

And a storm was on the deep.
2. 'Tis a fearful thing in winter

To be shattered by the blast,
And to hear the rattling trumpet

Thunder, "Cut away the mast!”
3. So we shuddered there in silence;

For the stoutest held his breath,
While the hungry sea was roaring

And the breakers talked with Death.

4. And as thus we sat in darkness,

Each one busy in his prayers,
“We are lost!” the captain shouted,

As he staggered down the stairs.
5. But his little daughter whispered,

As she took his icy hand, “ Isn't God upon the ocean,

Just the same as on the land ?”

6. Then we kissed the little maiden,

And we spoke in better cheer;
And we anchored safe in harbor
When the morn was shining clear.


Every one, however humble, is daily and hourly altering and moulding the character of all with whom he mingles, and exerting a power that will reproduce itself through countless generations.




An Arabian Legend. 1. The site occupied by the temple of Solomon was formerly a cultivated field, possessed in common by two brothers. One of them was married and had several children; the other was unmarried. They lived together, however, cultivating, in the greatest harmony possible, the property they had inherited from their father.

2. The harvest soon arrived. The two brothers bound up their sheaves, and made two equal stacks of them, and laid them on the field. During the night the unmarried brother was struck with an excellent thought. “My brother,” said he to himself, " has a wife and children

a to support; it is not just that my share of the harvest

; should be as large as his."

3. Upon this he arose, and took from his stack several sheaves, which he added to those of his brother; and this he did with as much secrecy as though he had been committing an evil action, so that his brotherly offering might not be refused.

4. On the same night the other brother awoke, and said to his wife, My brother lives alone without a companion ; he has no one to assist him in his labor, nor to reward him for his toils, while God has bestowed on me a wife and children; it is not right that we should take from our common field as many sheaves as he, since we have already more than he has — domestic happiness.

5. “If you consent, we shall, by adding secretly a certain number of sheaves to his stack, by way of compensation, and without his knowledge, see his portion of the harvest increase." The project was approved and immediately put into execution.

6. In the morning .each of the brothers went to the field, and were much surprised at seeing the stacks equal.


During several successive nights the same performance was repeated on both sides; each kept adding to his brother's store; and on each successive morning both were surprised to find that the stacks remained the


7. But one night, both having stood sentry to dive into the cause of this miracle, they met, each bearing the sheaves mutually destined for the other. It was thus all explained, and they rushed into each other's arms, each grateful to heaven for having so good a brother.


1. During the distress of the American army, caused by the invasion of Cornwallis and Phillips in 1781, Mr. Venable, an army commissioner, took two steers for the use of the troops from Mr. Hook, a Scotchman and a man of wealth, who was suspected of being unfriendly to the American cause.

2. The act was not strictly legal; and after the war had closed, Hook, by the advice of one Mr. Cowan, a lawyer of some distinction, thought proper to bring an action for trespass against Mr. Venable.

3. Patrick Henry appeared for the defendant; and he is said to have contributed much to the enjoyment of his hearers. At one time he excited their indignation against Hook, and vengeance was visible in every countenance; again, when he chose to ridicule him, the whole audience was in a roar of laughter.

4. He painted the distress of the American army, exposed almost naked to the cold of a winter sky, and marking the frozen ground over which they marched with the blood of their unshod feet. « Where was the man,” said he, “who had an American bosom, who would not have thrown open his fields, his barns, his cellars, the doors of his house, the portals of his breast, to receive with outspread arms the meanest soldier in that little band of starving patriots?

5. “Where is the man? There he stands ! But whether the heart of an American beats in his bosom, you, gentlemen, are to judge.” He then carried the jury by the power of his imagination to the plains of Yorktown; the surrender of which had followed shortly after the act complained of.

6. He painted the surrender in the most glowing and noble colors of his eloquence. The audience saw before their eyes the humbled and dejected British as they marched out of their trenches; they saw the triumph which lighted up every patriotic face; they heard the shout of “Victory!” the cry of “Washington and liberty !” as it rung and echoed through the American ranks, and was re-echoed from the hills, and from the shores of the neighboring river.

7. “But hark !” continued Henry, “what notes of discord are these which disturb the general joy, and silence the acclamations of victory? They are the notes of John Hook, hoarsely bawling through the American camp, 'Beef! beef! beef !” The court was convulsed

” with laughter. The jury retired, and, we need scarcely say,

John Hook lost his case.


1. Pity the sorrows of a poor old man,

Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your

door; Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span: 0! give relief, and heaven will bless your store. 2. These tattered clothes my poverty bespeak;

These hoary locks proclaim my lengthened years ; And many a furrow in my grief-worn cheek,

Has been the channel to a flood of tears.

3. Yon house, erected on the rising ground,

With tempting aspect drew me from my road; For plenty there a residence has found,

And grandeur a magnificent abode.
4. Hard is the fate of the infirm and poor !

Here, as I craved a morsel of their bread,
A pampered menial drove me from the door,

To seek a shelter in a humbler shed.

5. O! take me to your hospitable home;

Keen blows the wind, and piercing is the cold ! Short is my passage to the friendly tomb;

For I am poor, and miserably old. 6. Should I reveal the sources of my grief,

If soft humanity e'er touched your breast, Your hands would not withhold the kind relief,

And tears of pity would not be repressed. 7. Heaven sends misfortunes; why should we repine?

'Tis Heaven has brought me to the state you see; And your condition may be soon like mine,

The child of sorrow and of misery. 8. A little farm was my paternal lot;

Then, like the lark, I sprightly hailed the morn; But ah! oppression forced me from my cot,

My cattle died, and blighted was my corn. 9. My tender wife, sweet soother of my care,

Struck with sad anguish at the stern decree,
Fell, lingering fell, a victim to despair;

And left the world to wretchedness and me.

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