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Even in this last refuge of desperation and despair, a sullen grandeur seems to gather round his memory. We picture him to ourselves seated among his care-worn followers, brooding in silence over his blasted fortunes, and acquiring a savage sublimity from the wildness and dreariness of his lurking place.. Defeated, but not dismayed-crushed to the earth, but not humiliated-he seemed to grow more haughty beneath disaster, and to receive a fierce satisfaction in draining the last dregs of bitterness. Little minds are tamed and subdued by misfortune; but great minds rise above it. The very idea of submission awakened the fury of Philip, and he even smote to death one of his followers, who proposed an expedient of peace. The brother of the victim made his escape, and in revenge betrayed the retreat of his chieftain. A body of white men and Indians were immediately despatched to the swamp, where Philip lay crouched, glaring with fury and despair. Before he was aware of their approach, they had began to surround him. In a little while he saw five of his trustiest followers laid dead at his feet; all resistance was vain; he rushed forth from his covert, and made a headlong attempt at escape, but was shot through the heart by a renegado Indian of his own nation.
Such is the scanty story of the brave, but unfortunate king Philip; persecuted while living, slandered and dishonoured when dead. If, however, we consider even the prejudiced anecdotes furnished us by his enemies, we may perceive in them traces of amiable and lofty character, sufficient to awaken sympathy for his fate, and respect for his memory. We find, amid all the harassing cares and ferocious passions of constant warfare, he was alive to the softer feelings of connubial love and paternal tenderness, and to the generous sentiments of friendship. The captivity of his " beloved wife and only son” are mentioned with exultation, as causing him poignant misery; the death of any near friend is triumphantly recorded as a new blow on his sensibilities ; but the treachery and desertion of many of his followers, in whose affections he had confided, is said to have desolated his heart, and bereaved him of all further comfort. He was a patriot attached to his native soil a prince true to his subjects, and indignant of their wrongs a soldier, daring in battle, firm in adversity, patient of fatigue, of hunger, of every variety of bodily suffering, and ready to perish in the cause he had espoused. Proud of heart, and with an untameable love of natural liberty, he preferred to enjoy it among the beasts of the forest, or in the dismal and famished recesses of swamps and morasses, rather than bow his haughty spirit
to submission, and live dependant and despised in the ease and luxury of the settlements. With heroic qualities, and bold achievements, that would have graced a civilized warrior, and rendered him the theme of the poet and the historian, he lived a wanderer and a fugitive in his native land, and went down, like a foundering bark, amid darkness and tempestwithout an eye to weep his fall, or a friendly hand to record his struggle.
ASPIRATIONS OF YOUTH.--Montgomery,
Up the mount of glory,
In our country's story;
Deeper, deeper let us toil,
In the mines of knowledge ;
Win from school and college :
Onward, onward may we press,
Through the path of duty,
Excellence true beauty ;
Closer, closer let us knit
Hearts and hands together,
In the wildest weather ;
Nearer, dearer bands of love,
Draw our souls in union,
To the saints' communion :
List not t Ambition's call, for she has lur'd
One master passion, master'd all and Death
Yet Hope sustain'd
There, beneath the guise
THE DAMSEL OF PERU.-Bryant. Where olive leaves were twinkling in every breeze that blew, There sat beneath the pleasant shade, a damsel of Peru ; Betwixt the slender boughs, as they opened to the air, Came glimpses of her snowy arm and of her glossy hair
; And sweetly rang her silver voice amid the shady nook, As from the shrubby glen is heard the sound of hidden brook. 'Tis a song of love and valour, in the noble Spanish tongue, That once upon the sunny plains of Old Castile was sung: When, from their mountain holds, on the Moorish route below, Had rush'd the Christians like a flood, and swept away the foeme Awhile the melody is still, and then breaks forth anew, A wilder rhyme, a livelier note--of freedom and Peru.
For she hath bound the sword to a youthful lover's side,
A white hand parts the branches, a lovely face looks forth,
That white hand is withdrawn, that fair sad face is gone,
But seė, along that rugged path, a fiery horseman ride,
mane ; He speeds towards that olive bower, along the shaded hill, God shield the hapless maiden there, if he should mean her ill.
And suddenly the song has ceased, and suddenly I hear,
I lay my good sword at thy feet, for now Peru is free,
From Johrison's VANITY OF HUMAN WISIES.
The festal blazes, the triumphal show,