reaching a broader place would spread out, and leave im mense masses of timber, stones, and earth, which, after a lapse of twenty-nine years, are still visiblę.

The beholder, who was not apprized of what had been done, was struck with absolute amazement; as the water, the moving cause, was wholly invisible. He saw trees of all sizes, and every other substance which could be accumulated, rolling onward; roaring, crashing, shaking the hills, and leaving perfect desolation in its course: the forest and the morass were both obliterated; the hills were laid low, and the valleys were exalted. It swept, in this way, some twenty miles, the whole distance to Memphremagog, where, finding nothing to resist its course, it gradually mingled its placid waters with those of the lake; having erected, at every step, the most enduring monuments of its resistless power.

The width of the track of this flood, was from six or eight rods to near half a mile. When the mighty torrent, rolling onward, struck the mill, for whose benefit this 'letting out of waters' was undertaken, it was crushed into atoms, and so completely obliterated that not.a vestige has ever been found. There was only here and there a solitary tree left, to show that a forest had been there. In one of them, a fish was found, twenty feet from the ground.

Among the extraordinary and almost incredible exhibitions of the power of this flood, is the fact, that a rock was moved about half a mile, the estimated weight of which was fifty tons!

The pond lay between the mountains, occupying the whole space; and, on being drained, it was found to have been seventy feet in depth. In the bed of Runaway' Pond, the whole three miles, there is now a road leading to Montpelier. A delightful little village now occupies ground that was made by the flood.

It may be asked what was the fate of the inhabitants below? The answer is, that, twenty-nine years ago, there was not a house, and no building except the mill, in the track over which the flood passed. 6 Runaway' 'Pond will long continue an object of much curiosity; and the history of its unceremonious exit will continue to be told, in generations yet to come.

EXERCISE CIII.

FAITH IN GOD.-Mungo Park

Shortly after leaving a romantic village, called Kooma, where he had been most hospitably treated, Park was overtaken by a party of banditti. Hearing some one calling to him, he looked back, and saw six or eight men approaching. He stopped till they all came up, when they informed him that the king of the Foulahs had sent them, on purpose to bring him, his horse, and every thing that belonged to him, to Fooladoo; and that, therefore, he must turn back, and go along with them.

Without hesitating a moment, Park turned and followed them. They travelled nearly a quarter of a mile, without exchanging a word; when, coming to a dark place in the wood, one of them said, in the Mandingo language, 'This place will do,' and immediately snatched Park's hat from his head. They then plundered him of every article which he possessed.

'After they were gone,' says Park, 'I sat for some time looking around me with amazement and terror. Whichever way I turned, nothing appeared but danger and difficulty. I saw myself in the midst of a vast wilderness, in the depth of the rainy season, -naked and alone, surrounded by savage animals, and men still more savage. I was five hundred miles from the nearest European settlement.

'All these circumstances crowded at once on my recollection; and I confess that my spirits began to fail me. I considered my fate as certain, and that I had no alternative but to lie down and perish. The influence of religion, however, aided and supported me. I reflected that no human prudence or foresight could possibly have averted my present sufferings. I was indeed a stranger in a strange land; yet I was still under the protecting eye of that Providence who has condescended to call himself the stranger's friend.

'At this moment, painful as my reflections were, the extraordinary beauty of a small moss in fructification, irresistibly caught my eye. I mention this, to show from what trifling circumstances the mind will sometimes derive consolation; for though the whole plant was not larger than the top of one of my fingers, I could not contemplate the delicate conformation of its roots, leaves, and capsula, without admiration.

'Can that Being, thought I, who planted, watered, and brought to perfection, in this obscure part of the world, a thing which appears of so small importance, look with unconcern upon the situation and sufferings of creatures formed after his own image? Surely not!

'Reflections like these would not allow me to despair. 1 started up, and disregarding both hunger and fatigue, travelled forward, assured that relief was at hand; and I was not disappointed.

'In a short time, I came to a village, at the entrance of which I overtook two shepherds, who had started with me from Kooma. They were much surprised to see me; for they said they never doubted that the Foulahs, when they had robbed, had murdered me. Departing from this village, we travelled over several rocky ridges, and at sunset arrived at Sibidooloo, the frontier town of the kingdom of Manding.'

EXERCISE CIV.

THE RIGHT OF DISCOVERY.-Weems.

A Dialogue between Charles II, King of England, and William Penn. Charles. Well, friend William, I have sold you a noble province in North America; but still, I suppose you have no thoughts of going thither yourself.

Penn. Yes, I have, I assure thee, friend Charles; and I am just come to bid thee farewell.

C. What! venture yourself among the savages of North America? Why, man, what security have you that you will not be in their war-kettle, in two hours after setting foot on their shores?

P. The best security in the world.

C. I doubt that, friend William; I have no idea of any security against those cannibals, but in a regiment of good soldiers, with their muskets and bayonets. And, mind, I tell you beforehand, that, with all my good-will for you and your family, to whom I am under obligations, I will not send a single soldier with you.

P. I want none of thy soldiers, Charles: I depend on some hing better than thy soldiers.

C. Ah! what may that be?

P. Why, I depend upon themselves; on the workings of their own hearts; on their notions of justice; on their moral sense.

C. A fine thing, this same moral sense, no doubt; but I fear you will not find much of it among the Indians of North America.

P. And why not among them as well as others?

C. Because, if they had possessed any, they would not have treated my subjects so barbarously as they have.

P. That is no proof to the contrary, friend Charles. Thy subjects were the aggressors. When thy subjects first went to North America, they found these poor people the fondest and kindest creatures in the world. Every day they would watch for them to come ashore, and hasten to meet them, and feast them on the best fish, and venison, and corn; which was all they had. In return for this hospitality of the savages, as we call them, thy subjects, termed Christians, seized on their country and rich hunting-grounds for farms for themselves. Now, is it to be wondered at, that these much-injured people should have been driven to desperation by such injustice? and that, burning with revenge, they should have committed some excesses?

C. Well, then, I hope you will not complain, when they come to treat you in the same manner.

P. I am not afraid of it.

C. Ay! How will you avoid it? their hunting-grounds, too, I suppose.

You mean to get

P. Yes; but not by driving these poor people away from them.

C. No, indeed! How, then, will you get the lands? P. I mean to buy their lands of them.

C. Buy their lands of them! Why, man, you have already bought them of me.

P. Yes, I know I have, and at a dear rate, too; but I did it only to get thy good-will; not that I thought thou badst any right to their lands.

C. What, man! no right to their lands? P. No, friend Charles; no right at all. hast thou to their lands?

What right

1

C. Why, the right of discovery, to be sure: the ight which the pope and all Christian kings have agreed to give one another.

P. The right of discovery! A strange kind of right, indeed! Now suppose, friend Charles, that some canoeloads of these Indians, crossing the sea, and discovering thy island of Great Britain, were to claim it as their own, and set it up for sale over thy head; what wouldst thou think of it? C. Why-why-why, I must confess, I should think it a piece of great impudence in them.

P. Well, then, how canst thou, a Christian, and a Christian prince, too, do that which thou so utterly condemnest in these people, whom thou callest savages? Yes, friend Charles, and suppose, again, that these Indians, on thy refusal to give up thy island of Great Britain, were to make war on thee, and, having weapons more destructive than thine, were to destroy many of thy subjects, and to drive the rest away; wouldst thou not think it horribly cruel?

C. I must say that I should, friend William; how can 1 say otherwise?

P. Well, then, how can I, who call myself a Christian, de what I should abhor, even in heathens? No; I will not do it. But I will buy the right of the proper owners, even of the Indians, themselves. By doing this, I shall imitate God himself, in his justice and mercy, and thereby insure his blessing on my colony, if I should ever live to plant one in North America.

EXERCISE CV.

OBSTINACY.-Washington Irving.

The great ambition of General Von Poffenburgh, was, to be thought a strict disciplinarian. Well knowing that discipline is the soul of all military enterprise, he enforced it with the most rigorous precision; obliging every man to turn out his toes, and hold up his head, on parade; and prescribing the breadth of their ruffles to all such as had any shirts to their backs.