EXERCISE XCV.

HUMANITY OF WILLIAM PENN.-G. W. Montgomery.

It is well known that the Quakers, or Friends, adopted the spirit of the maxim, Overcome evil with good.' The founder of Philadelphia, William Penn, was completely armed with the spirit of this principle. When he visited this country, he came without cannon or sword, and with a determination to meet the Indians with truth and kindness. He bought their land, and paid them for it; he made a treaty with them, and observed it; and he always treated them as men. specimen of the manner in which he met the Indians, the following instance is very striking.

As a

There were some fertile and excellent lands, which, in 1698, Penn ascertained were excluded from his first purchase; and, as he was very desirous of obtaining them, he made the proposal to the Indians, that he would buy those lands, if they were willing. They returned, for answer, that they had no desire to sell the spot where their fathers were deposited; but to please their father Onas, as they named Penn, they said that he should have some of the lands. This being decided, they concluded the bargain, that Penn might have as much land as a young man could travel round in one day; and, as an equivalent, they were to receive a certain amount of English goods.

Though this plan of measuring the land was of their own selection, yet they were greatly dissatisfied with it after it had been tried; for the young Englishman, chosen to walk off the tract of land, walked so fast and far, as greatly to astonish and mortify them. The governor observed this dissatisfaction, and asked the cause. 'The walker cheated us,' said the Indians. 'Ah! how can it be?' said Penn; 'did you not choose, yourselves, to have the land measured in this way?' 'True,' replied the Indians; but white brother made a big walk.'

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Some of Penn's commissioners, waxing warm, said the bargain was a fair one, and insisted that the Indians ought to abide by it, and, if not, should be compelled to it. Compelled!' exclaimed Penn; 'how can you compel them without bloodshed? Don't you see this looks to murder?' Then turning with a benignant smile to the Indians, he said, 'Well,

brothers, if you have given us too much land for the goods first agreed on, how much more will satisfy you

This proposal gratified them; and they mentioned the quantity of cloth and number of fish-hooks with which they would be satisfied. These were cheerfully given; and the Indians, shaking hands with Penn, went away smiling. After they were gone, the governor, looking round on his friends, exclaimed, 'Oh! how sweet and cheap a thing is charity! Some of you spoke, just now, of compelling these poor creatures to stick to their bargain; that is, in plain English, to fight and kill them, and all about a little piece of land!'

For this kind conduct, manifested in all his actions to the Indians, he was nobly rewarded. The untamed savage of the forest became the warm friend of the white stranger: towards Penn and his followers, they buried the war-hatchet, and ever evinced the strongest respect for them. And when the colony of Pennsylvania was pressed for provisions, and none could be obtained from other settlements, - which scarcity arose from the increasing number of inhabitants, not having time to raise the necessary food, the Indians cheerfully came forward, and assisted the colony by the fruits of their labors in hunting.

This kindness they practised with pleasure, because they considered it an accommodation to their 'good father Onas? and his friends. And, though Penn has long been dead, yet . he is not forgotten by the red men; for many of the Indians possess a knowledge of his peaceable disposition, and speak of him with a tone and feeling very different from what they manifest when speaking of those whites, who came with words on their tongues, and kegs of fire-water' in their hands, and oppression in their actions.

EXERCISE XCVI.

FUNERAL OF THE OSAGE WARRIOR.

A mighty form lay stretched and cold,
Beside his last retreat;

The spear was in his mantle fo
The quiver at his feet;

Mrs. Sigourney.

Grave, hoary men, with stifled moan,
Moved on sedate and slow,

While woman's shrill, unheeded tone,
"Broke forth in lawless woe.

Strange sight!

amid that funeral train

A lofty steed stood nigh,

With arching neck and curling mane,
With bold, yet wandering eye.

But when the wail grew wild and loud,
His fiery nostril spread,

As though he heard the war-whoop proud,
And rushed to carnage red.

Steed of the winds!thy lord doth roam
Gay through the spirit's land,
Where no pale tyrant's eye shall come
To frown on the happy band.
When o'er the night, like meteor, streams
The lamp of their revels free,
His hunting spear in lightning gleams,
And he waits, he calls for thee!

'He must not at the chase be late,
He, of the soul of fire,

Haste haste!'. The death-shot seals his fate,

With sharp and sudden ire.

One leap,

and all was hushed,

He bowed his noble head;

And free the deep, red streamlet gushed
To lave his master's bed.

Sad groups to guard their chieftain's clay
The tumulus prepare,

While low a weeping mourner lay,
With dark, dishevelled hair;

And when the evening star is bright,
Full oft her widowed cry

Goes forth upon the stilly night,

'Why, warrior,

- didst thou die?'

EXERCISE XCVII.

PROFANENESS.-O. A. Skinner.

Profaneness is one of the most fearful sins of the world. Its peculiar heinousness in the sight of God, may be seen by a reference to the decalogue of Moses. To the commandment prohibiting this sin, is appended the startling declaration, The Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his

name in vain.'

But, though the sin is one of fearful magnitude, it is very common. The profane are everywhere, on the bench of justice, in the halls of legislation, in the circle of gayety, and in the press of business. You hear their polluting language on all occasions. It not unfrequently breaks upon your ear on the holy Sabbath, as you quietly wend your way to the sanctuary of God.

Some of all ages and conditions are profane. The lisping boy, who cannot articulate distinctly the name of God, and the hoary-headed man, trembling on the verge of the grave, are often heard cursing Jehovah! Not unfrequently do persons, languishing on beds of sickness, give expression to their murmuring, complaining spirit, in the language of bitter cursing.

There is no excuse for profaneness. For other sins, some excuse may be offered, which will serve to palliate the offence. The drunkard may offer the strength of appetite, and the thief the starving condition of his children; but the profane swearer can offer no excuse. His sin does not gratify his appetite; does not clothe him; does him no possible good, for a single day.

Let none plead habit for a justification; for a watchful care over themselves, for a season, will entirely destroy the habit. Neither let any plead, that when in a passion they cannot govern themselves; for, in the first place, they have no right to be in a passion; and, in the second place, they can refrain from giving vent to their passion in the language of profaneness, just as well as they can refrain from a resort to violent blows.

Profaneness is an evil of fearful magnitude. By leading man to look with irreverence upon the name of God, it de

stroys one of the greatest supports of moral virtue. If we had no reverence for Him, we should neither love nor fear him; we should not bow before him in prayer; we should not obey his law; but we should disregard all his institutions. We may illustrate this by referring to a wayward son. While he respected the authority of his father, and honored his name, he was obedient and virtuous; but when he began to mingle with the wicked, and to hear parental authority ridiculed and opposed, his reverence for his father began to abate; and his law began to lose its restraining and guiding power. Thus profaneness makes us wicked by degrading God in our estimation, by heaping contempt upon his character, and making us despise his authority..

EXERCISE XCVIII.

THE RIVER MERRIMACK.

W. M. Richardson.

Sweet Merrimack! thy gentle stream
Is fit for better poet's theme,
For rich thy waves, and gentle, too,
As Rome's proud Tiber ever knew;
And thy fair current's placid swell
Would flow in classic song as well
Yet on thy banks, so green, so sweet,
Where wood-nymphs dance, and naiads meet,
Even since creation's earliest dawn,

No son of song was ever born;
No muses' fairy feet e'er trod
Thy modest margin's verdant sod;
And mid Time's silent, feathery flight,
Like some coy maiden, pure as light,
Sequestered in some blest retreat,
Far from the city and the great,
Thy virgin waves the vales among
Have flowed neglected and unsung.