Envying the very tenants of the sty, There shall the highest glory come to God most high. For, in a world thus reconciled to God, Nor din of arms, nor "garments rolled in blood," Shall shock the peaceful soul. The oppressor's rod Shall he lay down; and where abhorred he stood, Loved shall he stand; and, in fraternal mood Shall he embrace the brother he oppressed; Each find his joy in doing others good; Man reckon him the greatest who is best, And God be glorified when all on earth are blessed. LESSON CII. The Religious Cottage.-D. HUNTINGTON. SEEST thou yon lonely cottage in the groveWith little garden neatly planned beforeIts roof, deep shaded by the elms above, Moss-grown, and decked with velvet verdure o'er? Go lift the willing latch the scene exploreSweet peace, and love, and joy, thou there shalt find: For there religion dwells; whose sacred lore Leaves the proud wisdom of the world behind, And pours a heavenly ray on every humble mind. "When the bright morning gilds the eastern skies, Up springs the peasant from his calm repose; Forth to his honest toil he cheerful hies, And tastes the sweets of nature as he goes. He breathes the fragrance, and pours forth the praise "Nor yet in solitude his prayers ascend; His faithful partner and their blooming train, To Him whose bounty clothes the smiling plain, I HAVE paused more than once, in the wilderness of America, to contemplate the traces of some blast of wind, which seemed to have rushed down from the clouds, and ripped its way through the bosom of the woodlands; rooting up, shivering, and splintering the stoutest trees, and leaving a long track of desolation. There is something awful in the vast havoc made among these gigantic plants; and, in considering their magnificent remains, so rudely torn and mangled, hurled down to perish prematurely on their native soil, I was conscious of a strong movement of sympathy with the wood-nymphs, grieving to be dispossessed of their ancient habitations. I recollect also hearing a traveler of poetical temperament, expressing the kind of horror which he felt in beholding, on the banks of the Missouri, an oak of'prodigious size, which had been in a manner overpowered by an enormous wild grape-vine. The vine had clasped its huge folds round the trunk, and from thence had wound about every branch and twig, until the mighty tree had withered in its embrace. It seemed like Lao'coön struggling ineffectually in the hideous coils of the monster Python. It was the lion of trees perishing in the embraces of a vegetable boa. I am fond of listening to the conversation of English gentlemen, on rural concerns, and of noticing with what taste and discrimination, and what strong, unaffected interest, they will discuss topics, which, in other countries, are abandoned to mere woodmen or rustic cultivators. I have heard a noble earl descant' on park and forest scenery, with the science and feeling of a painter. He dwelt on the shape and beauty of particular trees on his estate, with as much pride and technical precision as though he had been discussing the merits of statues in his collection. I found that he had gone considerable distances, to examine trees which were celebrated among rural amateurs; for it seems that trees, like horses, have their established points of excellence, and that there are some in England, which enjoy very extensive celebrity, from being perfect in their kind. There is something nobly simple and pure in such a taste. It argues, I think, a sweet and generous nature, to have this strong relish for the beauties of vegetation, and this friendship for the hardy and glorious sons of the forest. There is a grandeur of thought connected with this part of rural economy. It is, if I may be allowed the figure, the heroic line of husbandry. It is worthy of liberal, and freeborn, and aspiring men. He who plants an oak looks forward to future ages, and plants for posterity. Nothing can be less selfish than this. He cannot expect to sit in its shade, nor enjoy its shelter; but he exults in the idea that the acorn, which he has buried in the earth, shall grow up into a lofty pile, and shall keep on flourishing, and increasing, and benefiting mankind, long after he shall have ceased to tread his paternal fields. Indeed, it is the nature of such occupations to lift the thought above mere worldliness. As the leaves of trees are said to absorb all noxious qualities of the air, and breathe forth a purer atmosphere, so it seems to me as if they drew from us all sordid and angry passions, and breathed forth peace and philanthropy. There is a serene and settled majesty in woodland scenery, that enters into the soul, and dilates and elevates it, and fills it with noble inclinations. The ancient and hereditary groves, too, that embower this island,* are most of them full of story. They are haunted by the recollections of the great spirits of past ages, who have sought for relaxation among them, from the tumult of arms, or the toils of state, or have wooed the Muse beneath their shade. It is becoming, then, for the high and generous spirits of an ancient nation to cherish these sacred groves that surround their ancestral mansions, and to perpetuate them to their descendants. Brought up, as I have been, in republican habits and principles, I can feel nothing of the servile reverence for titled rank, merely because it is titled. But I trust I am neither churl nor bigot in my creed. I do see and feel how hereditary distinction, when it falls to the lot of a generous mind, may elevate that mind into true nobility. It is one of the effects of hereditary rank, when it falls thus happily, that it multiplies the duties, and, as it were, extends the existence of the possessor. He does not feel himself a mere individual link in creation, responsible only for his own brief term of being. He carries back his existence in proud recollection, and he extends it forward in honorable anticipation. He lives with his ancestry, and he lives with his posterity. To both does he consider himself involved in deep responsibilities. As he has received much from those that have gone before, so he feels bound to transmit much to those who are to come after him. His domestic undertakings seem to imply a longer existence than those of ordinary men. None are so apt to build * This piece, though the production of an American, was written in Finglar and plant for future centuries, as noble-spirited men, who have received their heritages from foregoing ages. I can easily imagine, therefore, the fondness and pride, with which I have noticed English gentlemen, of generous temperaments, but high aristocratic feelings, contemplating those magnificent trees, which rise like towers and pyramids from the midst of their paternal lands. There is an affinity between all natures, animate and inanimate. The oak, in the pride and lustihood of its growth, seems to me to take its range with the lion and the eagle, and to assimilate, in the grandeur of its attributes, to heroic and intellectual man. a de With its mighty pillar rising straight and direct toward heaven; bearing up its leafy honors from the impurities of earth, and supporting them aloft in free air and glorious sunshine, it is an emblem of what a true nobleman should be; a refuge for the weak, a shelter for the oppressed, fence for the defenceless; warding off from them the peltings of the storm, or the scorching rays of arbitrary power. He who is this, is an ornament and a blessing to his native land. He who is otherwise, abuses his eminent advantages; abuses the grandeur and prosperity which he has drawn from the bosom of his country. Should tempests arise, and he be laid prostrate by the storm, who would mourn over his fall?Should he be borne down by the oppressive hand of power, who would murmur at his fate? 66 Why cumbereth he the ground?" LESSON CIV. Old Mortality. TALES OF MY LANDLORD. Most readers must have witnessed with delight the joyous burst, which attends the dismissing of a village-school, on a fine summer evening. The buoyant spirit of childhood, |