ity of this vast plain to the other, and seemed majestically to roll over its surface in a bed of liquid fire; and above this mighty desolation, as it rolled along, the whitened smoke, pale with terror, was streaming and rising up in magnificent cliffs to heaven. I stood secure, but tremblingly, and heard the maddening wind which hurled this monster over the land. I heard the roaring thunder, and saw its thousand lightnings flash; and then I saw behind the black and smoking desolation of this storm of fire. CATLIN.

CLXVIII.-THE DUMB CHILD.

SHE is my only girl

I asked for her as some most precious thing;
For all unfinished was love's jewelled ring,
Till set with this soft pearl.

The shade that time brought forth I could not see,
So pure, so perfect, seemed the gift to be.

Oh! many a soft old tune

I used to sing into that deadened ear,
And suffered not the slightest footstep near,
Lest she might wake too soon;

And hushed her brothers' laughter while she lay—
Oh! needless care-I might have let them play!

'Twas long ere I believed

That my own daughter might not speak to me;
Waited and watched, God knows how patiently,
How willingly deceived.

Vain love was long the untiring nurse of faith,
And tended hope-until it starved to death.

Oh! if she could but hear

For one short hour, that I her tongue might teach
To call me mother in the broken speech

That thrills a mother's ear!

Alas! those sealed lips never may be stirred
To the deep music of that lovely word.

My heart it sorely tries,

To see her kneel with such a reverent air
Beside her brothers, at their evening prayer;
Or lift those earnest eyes

To watch our lips, as though our words she knew,
Then move her own as she were speaking too.

I've watched her looking up

To the bright wonder of an evening sky,
With such a depth of meaning in her eye,
That I could almost hope

The struggling soul would burst its binding cords,
And the long-pent up thought flow forth in words.

The song of bird and bee,

The chorus of the breezes, streams, and groves,
All the great music to which nature moves,
Are wasted melody

To her-the world of sound a tuneless void:
While even silence hath its charm destroyed.

Her face is very fair,

Her blue eye beautiful, of finest mould
Her soft white brow, o'er which in waves of gold
Ripples her shining hair;

Alas! this lovely temple closed must be,
For he who made it keeps the master kev

Wills he the mind within

Should from earth's Babel clamor be kept free,
E'en that His still small voice and step might be
Heard at its inner shrine,

Through that deep hush of soul with clearer thrill?
Then should I grieve? O, murmuring heart, be still!

She seems to have a sense

Of quiet gladness, in her noiseless play;
She hath a pleasant smile, a gentle way,
Whose voiceless eloquence

Touches all hearts, though I had once the fear
That even her father would not care for her!

Thank God! it is not so;

And when his sons are playing merrily,
She comes and leans her head upon his knee.
Oh! at such times I know,

By the full eye and tone subdued and mild,
How his heart yearns over his silent child.

Not of all gifts °bereft ·

E'en now-how could I say she did not speak?
What real language lights her eye and cheek,
In thanks to him who left

Unto her soul yet open avenues
For joy to enter, and for love to use!

And God in love doth give

To her defect a beauty of its own;
And we a deeper tenderness have shown
Through that for which we grieve;
Yet shall the seal be melted from her ear-
Yea, and my voice shall fill it--but not here.

When that new sense is given,

What rapture will its first experience be
That never woke to meaner melody

Than the rich songs of heaven!

To hear the full-toned anthem swelling round
While angels teach the ecstasies of sound.

ANONYMO

CLXIX.-AN AWFUL DISCOVERY.

ONE serene evening, in the middle of August, 1775, Captain Warrens, the master of a Greenland whale ship, found himself becalmed among an immense number of icebergs, in about seventy-seven degrees north latitude. On one side, and within a mile of his vessel, these huge masses were closely wedged together, and a succession of snowcolored peaks appeared behind each other as far as the eye could reach, showing that the ocean was completely blocked up in that quarter, and had probably been so for a long period of time. Captain Warrens did not feel altogether satisfied with his situation, but there being no wind, he could neither move one way nor the other; he gave orders, therefore, for a strict watch, being satisfied all would be safe as long as the icebergs continued in their respective places.

About midnight the wind rose to a gale, accompanied by thick showers of snow, while a succession of tremendous thundering, grinding, and crashing noises, gave fearful evidence that the ice was in motion. The vessel received violent shocks every moment; for the haziness of the atmosphere prevented those on board from discovering in what direction the open water lay, or if there actually were any at all on either side of them. The night was spent in tacking as often as any cause of danger presented itself, and in the morning, when the storm had abated, Captain Warrens found, to his great joy, that his ship had sustained no serious injury. He remarked with surprise that the accumulated icebergs, which on the previous evening had formed an impenetrable barrier, were now separated, and in one place

a canal of open sea wound its course among them as far as the eye could discern.

Two miles beyond the entrance of this canal a ship made its appearance about noon. The sun shone brightly at the time, and a gentle breeze blew from the north. At first some intervening icebergs prevented Captain Warrens from distinctly seeing anything except her masts; still he was struck with the strange manner in which her sails were disposed, and with the dismantled aspect of her yards and rigging. She continued to go before the wind for a few furlongs, and then grounding upon the low icebergs, remained motionless.

Captain Warrens was so much excited that he immediately leaped into his boat, with several seamen, and rowed towards her. On approaching, he observed that her hull was miserably weather-beaten, and not a soul appeared on the deck, which was covered with snow to a considerable depth. He hailed her crew several times, but no answer was returned. Previous to stepping on board, an open °porthole near the main chains caught his eye, and on looking into it he perceived a man reclining back on a châir, with writing materials on a table before him, but the feebleness of the light made everything indistinct.

The party went upon deck, and having removed the hatchway, which they found closed, they descended to the cabin. They came first to the apartment which Captain Warrens had viewed through the porthole. A tremor seized him as he entered it. Its inmate retained his position, and seemed to be insensible to strangers. He was found to be a corpse; a green, damp mould had covered his cheeks and forehead, and veiled his open eyeballs. A pen was in his hand, a log-book lay open before him, and the last sentence in its unfinished page ran thus:-" November 15, 1762. We have now been enclosed in the ice seventeen days. The fire went out yesterday, and our master has been trying ever since to kindle it again, without success. His wife died this morning. There is no relief."

Captain Warrens and his seamen hurried from the spot without uttering a word. On entering the principal cabin, the first object which met their attention was the dead body of a female reclining on a bed in an attitude of deep interest and attention. Her countenance retained the freshness of life, but a contraction of her limbs showed that her form was inanimate. Seated on the floor was the corpse of an apparently young man, holding a steel in one hand and a flint in the other, as if in the act of striking fire upon some tinder which lay beside him. In the forepart of the vessel several sailors were found lying dead in their berths, and the body of a boy was crouched at the bottom of the gangway stairs. Neither provisions nor fuel could be discovered anywhere. Captain Warrens was prevented, however, by the superstitious prejudices of his seamen, from examining the

vessel as minutely as he wished to do. He therefore took the log book, already mentioned, and returning to his own ship immediately steered to the southward, deeply impressed with the awful example which he had witnessed of the danger of navigating the polar seas in high northern latitudes.

On returning to England, he made various inquiries respecting vessels which had disappeared in an unknown way, and by comparing the information he obtained with that which was afforded by the written documents in his possession, he ascertained the name and history of the imprisoned ship, and of her unfortunate master. It appeared that she had been frozen in, thirteen years previous to his discovery of her among the ice. WESTMINSTER Review.

CLXX. THE GLADIATOR.

THEY led a lion from his den,

The lord of Afric's sun-scorched plain;
And thêre he stood, stern foe of men,
And shook his flowing mane.
There's not, of all Rome's heroes, ten
That dare abide this game.

His bright eye naught of lightning lacked:
His voice was like the cataract.

They brought a dark-haired man along,

Whose limbs with gyves of brass were bound;

Youthful he seemed, and bold, and strong,

And yet unscathed of wound.
Blithely he stepped among the throng,
And careless threw around

A dark eye, such as courts the path
Of him who braves a 'Dacian's wrath.

Then shouted the °plebeian crowd-
Rung the glad galleries with the sound;
And from the throne there spake aloud
A voice, "Be the bold man unbound!
And, by Rome's sceptre, yet unbowed,

By Rome, earth's monarch crowned,
Who dares the bold-the unequal strife,
Though domed to death, shall save his life."