4. Whate'er the theme, the maiden sung
As if her song could have no ending:
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending;
I listened, till I had my fill;
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

LVI. THE CHARGE AT ECKMUHL.

THE trumpets sounded the charge; thousands of helmets rose and fell at the blast; the plain shook with the muffled tread of the Austrian cohort, and the next moment they burst with the sound of thunder on the French huzzars, scattering them like pebbles from

their feet, and, sweeping in one broad, resistless wave over the field, they bore down, with their terrible front, on the French infantry.

2. But there was a counter blast of trumpets; and, before the startling echoes had died away, Napoleon's resistless soldiers emerged into view. Spurring their steeds into a trot, and then into a headlong gallop, with their plumes and banners floating back in the breeze, they swept forward to the shock.

3. The spectacle was sublime; and each army held its breath in awe, as these warlike cohorts went rushing on each other. Their dark masses looked like two thunder-clouds riding opposite hurricanes, and meeting in mid-heaven. The clouds of dust, rolling around their horses' feet, the long lines of flashing helmets above, and the forest of shaking sabres over all, gave them a most terrible aspect, as they swept onward. The shock in the centre shook the field; and the two armies ceased their firing to witness the issue.

4. The cannoneer leaned on his gun, and the soldier stooped over his musket, absorbed in the spectacle; while in the first rude meeting, horses and riders, by scores and hundreds, rolled on the plain. Then commenced one of those fierce hand-to-hand fights, so seldom witnessed between cavalry.

5. In the first heavy shock, one body or the other gives way, and a few minutes decide which is the successful charge. But here it was like two waves of equal strength, volume, and velocity, meeting in full career, and cresting and foaming over each other, as they struggle for the mastery.

6. The sudden silence that fell over the field, as the two armies ceased firing, added to the terror of the scene. The sight was novel, even to those veteran troops. They were accustomed to the tumult and uproar of battle,

where the thunder of cannon, and rattle of musketry, and shock of cavalry, are mingled in wild confusion. But here, there was nothing heard but the clear ringing of steel, save when the trumpets gave their blast.

7. It was not the noise of a battle-field, but that of ten thousand anvils, ringing under the fierce strokes of the hammer. The sun went down on the struggle, and his farewell rays glanced over swaying helmets and countless sabres, crossing each other, like lightning in the air. Twilight deepened over the field, and then, it was one broad gleam of light above the struggling cohorts, as the fire flew beneath their rapid strokes.

8. The stars came out in the sky, but their rays were dimmed by the dazzling sparks, as sword crossed sword, or glanced from steel armor. At length, the quiet moon came sailing in beauty up the heavens, and shed her reproving light on the strife. But nothing could arrest the enraged combatants. Fighting in the light of their own flashing steel, they saw neither moon nor stars.

9. At length, the ringing strokes grew fainter and fainter, and that dark mass, canopied with fire of its own making, seemed to waver to and fro in the gloom; and then, the heavy tramp of rushing steeds was heard. The Austrians, leaving two thirds of their entire number stretched on the plain, broke and fled, and horses and riders lay piled together in heaps on the rent and trodden plain.-J. T. Headley.

IF

For whose sweet rest I humbly hope and pray,

In the great company of the forgiven,

I shall be sure to find old Daniel Gray.

2. I knew him well; in fact, few knew him better;
For my young eyes oft read for him the Word,
And saw how meekly, from the crystal letter,
He drank the life of his beloved Lord.

3. Old Daniel Gray was not a man who lifted On ready words his freight of gratitude, Nor was he called among the gifted,

In the prayer-meetings of his neighborhood.

4. He had a few old-fashioned words and phrases,
Linked in with sacred texts and Sunday rhymes;
And I suppose that, in his prayers and graces,
I've heard them all, at least, a thousand times.

5. I see him now, - his form, his face, his motions,
His homespun habit, and his silver hair,-
And hear the language of his trite devotions,
Rising behind the straight-backed kitchen chair.

6. I can remember how the sentence sounded,

66

Help us, O Lord, to pray, and not to faint!" And how the "conquering-and-to-conquer" rounded The loftier aspirations of the saint.

so they say;

7. He had some notions that did not improve him;
He never kissed his children
And finest scenes and fairest flowers would move him
Less than a horse-shoe picked up in the way.

8. He had a hearty hatred of oppression,

And righteous words for sin of every kind; Alas, that the transgressor and transgression Were linked so closely in his honest mind!

9. He could see naught but vanity in beauty,
And naught but weakness in a fond caress,
And pitied men whose views of Christian duty
Allowed indulgence in such foolishness.