No. He came home without alluding to the occurrence, as if it were a matter of course, to help those who were in need. He complained not of fatigue, though every nerve was strained and tremulous. He went silently to his own secluded room, and shed tears of pity at the remembrance of the struggles of the sufferer. The true greatness that prompted this forgetfulness of self, was as remarkable as the courage that snatched a fellow-creature from danger.
May Morning.
May is here, with skies of blue,
Tuneful birds of varied hue,
Blossoms bright on plant and tree:
Ye, who love her smile of glee,
Leave the city's thronging streets,
Meet her in her green retreats,
And, with thrilling heart inhale
Perfumes from her balmy gale.
Come! for countless gifts she bears;
Take her cordial for your cares:
Cull the charms that never cloy,
Twine the wreaths of social joy,
And with liberal hand dispense
Blessings of benevolence:
For when Spring shall fade away,
And the year grow dim and gray,
These, with changeless warmth shall glow
Mid the hills of wintry snow,
And undying fragrance cast,
When the Spring of life is past.
The Huguenot Grandfather's Tale.
It is doubtless known to my readers, that the Huguenots were French Protestants, who on account of religious persecution fled from their country. The Edict of Nantz was a law made by Henry IV. of France, allowing liberty of conscience, and safety to those who dissented from the faith of the Church of Rome, the established religion of the realm. This edict was repealed by Louis XIV. in 1685; and the Protestants, or Huguenots, as they were generally called, left their country in great numbers and sought refuge in foreign lands. Thousands found a peaceful home in this western world, and their descendants are among the most respected and honoured inhabitants of our happy country.
Once, on a cold wintry evening, somewhat more than a century since, a bright light was seen streaming from the casement of a pleasant abode in Boston, casting cheerful radiance upon the snow-covered pavement. Within, by a blazing hearth, a group of children gathered around their mother, and the white-haired grandsire, singing with sweet voices, their evening hymn. Then, as the mother led away the little ones to their rest, the eldest, a boy of about twelve years old, drew his seat near the arm-chair of the aged man, and gazing affectionately on his mild, venerable countenance, said,