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sensibly moved, and prompted by compassion to lend him every assistance in our power. Every trace of resentment vanishes in a moment; every other emotion gives way to pity and terror.

4. In these last extremities we remember nothing but the respect and tenderness due to our common nature. What a scene then must a field of battle present, where thousands are left without assistance, and without pity, with their wounds exposed to the piercing air, while the blood, freezing as it flows, binds them to the earth, amid the trampling of horses, and the insults of an enraged foe!

5. If they are spared by the humanity of the enemy, and carried from the field, it is but a prolongation of torment. Conveyed in uneasy vehicles, often to a remote distance, through roads almost impassable, they are lodged in ill-prepared receptacles' for the wounded and the sick, where the variety of distress baffles all the efforts of humanity and skill, and renders it impossible to give to each the attention he demands. Far from their native home, no tender assiduities' of friendship, no well-known voice, no wife, or mother, or sister, is near to soothe their sŎrrōws, relieve their thirst, or close their eyes in death! Unhappy man! and must you be swept into the grave unnoticed and unnumbered, and no friendly tear be shed for your sufferings, or mingled with your dust?

6. We must remember, however, that as a very small propor tion of a military life is spent in actual combat, so it is a very small part of its miseries which must be ascribed to this sōurce. More are consumed by the rust of inactivity than by the edge of the sword; confined to a scanty or unwholesome diet, exposed in sickly climates, harassed with tiresome marches and perpetual alarms; their life is a continual scene of hardships and dangers. They grow familiar with hunger, cold, and watchfulness. Crowded into hospitals and prisons, contagion3 spreads among their ranks, till the ravages of disease exceed those of the enemy.

7. We have hitherto adverted to the sufferings of those only who are engaged in the profession of arms, without taking into

1 Re cep' ta cles, houses; any thing capable of receiving or holding."As si dù'i ties, daily or constant attentions.- Con tà' gion, a malignant disease; any disease which spreads or communicates by touch.

our account the situation of the countries which are the scene of hostilities. How dreadful to hold every thing at the mercy of an enemy, and to receive life itself as a boon' dependent on the sword! How boundless the fears which such a situation must inspire, where the issues of life and death are determined by no known laws, principles, or customs, and no conjecture can be formed of our destiny, except so far as it is dimly deciphered' in characters of blood, in the dictates of revenge, and the caprices of power!

8. Conceive, but for a moment, the consternation1 which the approach of an invading army would impress on the peaceful villages in our own neighborhood. When you have placed yourselves for an instant in that situation, you will learn to sympathize with those unhappy countries which have sustained the ravages of arms. But how is it possible to give you an idea of

these horrors?

9. Here you behold rich harvests, the bounty of Heaven, and the reward of in'dustry, consumed in a moment, or trampled under foot, while famines and pestilence" follow the steps of desolation. There the cottages of peasants given up to the flames, mothers expiring through fear, not for themselves, but their infants; the inhabitants flying with their helpless babes in all directions, miserable fugitives on their native soil! In another part you witness opulent cities taken by storm; the streets, where no sounds were heard but those of peaceful industry, filled on a sudden with slaughter and blood, resounding with the cries of the pursuing and the pursued; the palaces of nobles demolished, the houses of the rich pillaged," and every age, sex, and rank, mingled in promiscuous massacre1o and ruin!

ROBERT HALL.

1 Boon, gift.-' Issues (ish'shůz), passages; outlets. De cl' phered, read; found out; explained.- Con ster nå' tion, excessive fear; dejec tion. Fåm' ine, want of sufficient food.- Pês' ti lence, diseases that are communicated by contact or near approach; diseases that are catching. Des o là' tion, act of laying waste; destruction.- Op'u lent, wealthy; rich.-- Pil' laged, robbed; plundered." Massacre (mås'a ker), slaughter; destruction; murder.

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106. BATTLE FIELDS, OR VULTURES' SHAMBLES.

S I was sitting within a hollow rock, and watching my sheep that fed in the valley, I heard two vultures crying to each other on the summit of the cliff. Both voices were carnest and deliberate. My curiosity prevailed over my care of the flock. I climbed slowly and silently from crag to crag, concealed among the shrubs, till I found a cavity where I might sit and listen without suffering or giving disturbance. I soon perceived that my labor would be well repaid; for an old vulture was sitting on a naked prominence,' with her young about her, whom she was instructing in the arts of a vulture's life, and preparing, by her last lecture, for their final dismission to the mountains and the skies.

2. "My children," said the old vulture, "you will the less want my instructions, because you have had my practice before your eyes. You have seen me snatch from the farm the household fowl; you have seen me seize the leveret in the bush, and the kid in the pasture; you know how to fix your talons, and how to balance your flight when you are faden with your prey. But you remember the taste of more delicious food: I have often regaled you with the flesh of man."

3. "Tell us," said the young vultures, "where man may be found, and how he may be known. His flesh is surely the natural food of a vulture! Why have you never brought a man in your talons to the nest ?" "He is too bulky," said the mother. "When we find a man, we can only tear away his flesh, and leave his bones upon the ground."

4. "Since man is so big," said the young ones, "how do you kill him? You are afraid of the wolf and of the bear. By what power are vultures superior to man? Is man more defenseless than a sheep?" "We have not the strength of man," returned the mother, "and the vulture would seldom feed upon his flesh, had not nature, that devoted him to our nourishment, infused into him a strange ferocity, which I have never observed in any other being that feeds upon the earth.

1 Prom'i nence, a point jutting or standing out from the surface of something. Lêv er et, a hare in its first year.-' Bůlk'y, large; heavy

5. "Two herds of men," continued she, "will often meet, and shake the earth with noise, and fill the air with fire. When you hear noise, and see fire, with flashes along the ground, hasten to the place with your swiftest wing, for men are surely destroying one another; you will then find the ground smoking with blood, and covered with carcasses, of which many are mangled, for the convenience of the vulture."

6. "But when men have killed their prey," said a young vulture, "why do they not eat it? When the wolf has killed a sheep, he suffers not the vulture to touch it, till he is satisfied himself. Is not man a kind of wolf?" "Man," said the mother, "is the only beast who kills that which he does not devour, and this quality makes him the greatest benefactor to our species."

7. "If men kill our prey, and lay it in our way," said the young one, "what need shall we have of laboring for ourselves?" "Because man will, sometimes," replied the mother, “remain for a long time quiet in his den. The old vultures will tell you when you are to watch his motions. When you see men in great numbers moving close together, like a flock of storks, you may conclude that they are hunting, and that you will soon revel' in human blood."

8. "But still," said the young one, "I would gladly know the reason of this mutual slaughter. I could never kill what I could not eat." "My child," said the mother, "this is a question which I can not answer, though I am reckoned the most subtle2 bird of the mountain. When I was young, I used frequently to visit the eyry of an old vulture, who dwelt upon the Carpathian1 rocks. He had made many observations; he knew the places. that afforded prey round his habitation, as far in every direction as the strongest wing can fly, between the rising and setting of the summer sun; and he had fed year after year on the vitals' of men. His opinion was, that men had only the appearance of animal life, being really vegetables, with a power of motion; and that as the boughs of an oak are dashed together by the

'Rev'el, to feast with noisy merriment.-2 Subtle (sůt' tl), sly; artful; cunning.—3 Eyry (år′e), a place where eagles or other birds of prey build their nests.- Carpathian (kar på' the an), a range of mountains in Europe, principally in Austria.- Vitals (vi' talz), parts of an animal body necessary to life.

storm, that swine may fatten on the falling acorns, so inen are, by some unaccountable power, driven one against another till they lose their motion, that vultures may be fed.

9. "Others think they have observed something of contrivance and policy among these ca'terers' of ours; and those that hover more closely around them, pretend that there is in every herd one that gives directions to the rest, and seems to be more eminently delighted with carnage.' What it is that entitles him to such preeminence, we know not. He is seldom the biggest or the swiftest; but such are his eagerness and diligence in providing and preparing food for us, that we think the leader of such human herds is entitled to our warmest gratitude, and should be styled, THE FRIEND OF THE VULTURES!"

1. "

DR. JOHNSON.

107. THE WATCHER ON THE TOWER.

HAT dost thou see, lone watcher on the tower?

"WHAT

Is the day breaking? comes the wish'd-for hour?
Tell us the signs, and stretch abroad thy hand,
If the bright morning dawns upon the land."
2. "The stars are clear above me, scarcely one
Has dimm'd its rays in reverence to the sun;
But yet I see on the horizon's verge,

Some fair, faint streaks, as if the light would surge."

3. "And is that all, O watcher on the tower?

Look forth again; it must be near the hour.
Dost thou not see the snowy mountain copes,"
And the green woods beneath them on the slopes ?"

4. "A mist envelops them; I can not trace
Their outline; but the day comes on apace.'
The clouds roll up in gold and amber flakes,

And all the stars grow dim. The morning breaks."

1 Ca' ter ers, those who provide food.- Carnage (kår'naj), slaughter; great destruction of lives.- Pre êm' i nence, superiority; the condition of being first in place or rank. Rev' er ence, fear mingled with respect and affection.— Surge (sårj), to swell; to run high like waves.— Côpe, a cover; a hood; a priest's cloak.-' A pace', quickly; fast.- Am' ber. of the color of amber, which is yellowish.

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