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whether I should return to Morgantown, or attempt to force my way through the wrecks of the tempest. My business, however, being of an urgent nature, I ventured into the path of the storm, and after encountering innumerable difficulties, succeeded in crossing it. I was obliged to lead my horse by the bridle to enable him to leap over the fallen trees, while I scrambled over or under them in the best way I could-at times so hemmed in by the broken tops and tangled branches, as almost to become desperate. On arriving at my house, I gave an account of what I had seen, when, to my surprise, I was told there had been very little wind in the neighborhood, although in the streets and gardens many branches and twigs had fallen in a manner which excited great surprise.

The valley is yet a desolate place, overgrown with briers and bushes, thickly entangled amid the tops and trunks of the fallen trees, and is the resort of ravenous animals, to which they betake themselves, when pursued by man, or after they have committed their depredations on the farms of the surrounding district. I have crossed the path of the storm at a distance of a hundred miles from the spot where I witnessed its fury, and again four hundred miles farther off, in the State of Ohio. Lastly, I observed traces of its ravages on the summits of the mountains connected with the Great Pine Forest of Pennsylvania, three hundred miles beyond the plaee last mentioned. In all these different parts it appeared to me not to have exceeded a quarter of a mile in breadth.

J. J. AUDU BON.

THE RAINBOW.

A rainbow and the sun breaking through cloud.
Discourage not yourselves, although you see
The weather black, and storms prolonged be.
What though it fiercely rains and thunders loud,
Behold there is a rainbow in the cloud,
Wherein a trustful promise may be found,
That quite your little worlds shall not be drown'd.
The sunshine through the foggy mists appear,
The low'ring sky begins again to clear;
And though the tempest yet your eyes affright,
Fair weather may befall you long ere night.

Such comfort speaks our Emblem unto those
Whom stormy persecution doth inclose;
And comforts him, that for the present sad,
With hopes that better seasons may be had.
There is not tro ole. sorrow, nor distress,
But mitigation hath, or some release.

Long use or time the storm away will turn,
Else patience makes it better to be borne.
Yea; sorrow's low'ring days will come and go,
As well as prosp'rous hours of sunshine do;
And when 'tis past, the pain that went before
Will make the following pleasure seem the more.
For He hath promis'd, whom we may believe,
His blessing unto those that mourn and grieve;
And that though sorrow much dejects their head,
In ev'ry need we shall be comforted.
This promise I believe; in ev'ry grief
Perform it, Lord, and help my unbelief.
So others viewing how thou cheerest me,
Shall in all sorrows put their trust in thee.

GEORGE WITIIER, 1558-1667.

XXV.

Medley.

THE STORY OF A ARON THE BEGGAR.

FROM THE SWEDISH.

K

ANG AS lieth in Sioni ; 'tis a homestead that scarce has an equal; Plenteous in wood and in corn-fields, with rich grassy meadows

and moorland. This won my father, in wedding the farmer's fair daughter; And here he grew old, like a summer's eve calmly declining. From him came the farm unto me; and here, like my father, I spent the best years of my life, and dwelt like a king amid plenty. Servants I had; men servants to plow with my oxen; And maids in the house, too; and children, the joy of their mother And the hope of my eye, who grew up like olive-plants round us. Thus sowing and reaping in comfort, from season to season abode I, Envied by many, but having the good-will of all men. At length came misfortune, and so put an end to my gladness. The frost of one night destroyed all my yet unreaped harvest, Wolves killed my cattle; and thus passed a winter of sorrow. Again I sowed rye-crops, looking for profit in autumn ;

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