3. At this moment the Canadian advanced a few steps, producing with his flute sweet and simple notes. The reptile immediately lowers his variegated neck, opens a passage with his head through the slender grass, and begins to creep after the musician, halting when he halts, and again following him when he resumes his march. In this way he was led beyond the limits of our camp, attended by a great number of spectators, both savages and Europeans, who could scarcely believe their eyes. After witnessing this wonderful effect of melody, the assembly unanimously decided that the marvellous serpent should be permitted to escape. 146. Two VIEWS OF NATURE. CHATEAUBRIAND. 1. We often rose at midnight and sat down upon deck, where we found only the officer of the watch and a few sailors silently smoking their pipes. No noise was heard, save the dashing of the prow through the billows, while sparks of fire ran with a white foam along the sides of the vessel. God of Christians! it is on the waters of the abyss and on the vast expanse of the heavens that thou hast particularly engraven the characters of thy omnipotence! Millions of stars sparkling in the azure of the celestial dome-the moon in the midst of the firmament—a sea unbounded by any shore-infinitude in the skies and on the waves-proclaim with most impressive effect the power of thy arm! Never did thy greatness strike me with profounder awe than in those nights, when, suspended between the stars and the ocean, I beheld immensity over my head and mmensity beneath my feet! 2. I am nothing; I am only a simple, solitary wanderer, and often have I heard men of science disputing on the subject of a Supreme Being, without understanding them; but I have invariably remarked, that it is in the prospect of the sublime scenes of nature that this unknown Being manifests himself to the human heart. One evening, after we had reached the beautiful waters that bathe the shores of Virginia, there was a profound calm, and every sail was furled. I was engaged below, when I heard the bell that summoned the crew to prayers. I hastened to mingle my supplications with those of my travelling companions. The officers of the ship were on the quarter-deck with the passengers, while the chaplain, with book in his hand, was stationed at a little distance before hem; the seamen were scattered at random over the poop, we were all standing, our faces toward the prow of the vessel, which was turned to the west. 3. The solar orb, about to sink beneath the waves, was seen through the rigging, in the midst of boundless space; and, from the motion of the stern, it appeared as if it changed its horizon every moment. A few clouds wandered confusedly in the east, where the moon was slowly rising. The rest of the sky was serene; and toward the north, a water-spout, forming a glorious triangle with the luminaries of day and night, and glistening with all the colors of the prism, rose from the sea, like a column of crystal supporting the vault of heaven. 4. He had been well deserving of pity who would not have recognized in this prospect the beauty of God. When my companions, doffing their tarpaulin hats, entoned with hoarse voice their simple hymn to Our Lady of Good Help, the patroness of the seas, the tears flowed from my eyes in spite of myself. How affecting was the prayer of those men, who, from a frail plank in the midst of the ocean, contemplated the sun setting behind the waves! 5. How the appeal of the poor sailor to the Mother of Sorrows went to the heart! The consciousness of our insignificance in the presence of the Infinite,—our hymns, resound ing to a distance over the silent waves,-the night approach ing with its dangers, our vessel, itself a wonder among so many wonders, a religious crew, penetrated with admiration and with awe,--a venerable priest in prayer,-the Almighty bending over the abyss, with one hand staying the sun in the west, with the other raising the moon in the east, and lending, through all immensity, an attentive ear to the feeble voice of of his creatures, all this constituted a scene which no power art can represent, and which it is scarcely possible for the heart of man to feel. 6. Let us now pass to the terrestrial scene. I had wandered one evening in the woods, at some distance from the cataract of Niagara, when soon the last glimmering of daylight disappeared, and I enjoyed, in all its loneliness, the beauteous prospect of night amid the deserts of the New World. 7. An hour after sunset, the moon appeared above the trees in the opposite part of the heavens. A balmy breeze, which the queen of night had brought with her from the east, seemed to precede her in the forests, like her perfumed breath. The lonely luminary slowly ascended in the firmanent, now peacefully pursuing her azure course, and now reposing on groups of clouds which resembled the summits of lofty, snowcovered mountains. These clouds, by the contraction and expansion of their vapory forms, rolled themselves into transparent zones of white satin, scattering in airy masses of foam, or forming in the heavens brilliant beds of down so lovely to the eye that you would have imagined you felt their softness and elasticity. 8. The scenery on the earth was not less enchanting: the soft and bluish beams of the moon darted through the intervals between the trees, and threw streams of light into the midst of the most profound darkness. The river that glided at my feet was now lost in the wood, and now reappearing, glistening with the constellations of night, which were reflected on its bosom. In a vast plain beyond this stream, the ra diance of the moon reposed quietly on the verdure. 9. Birch-trees, scattered here and there in the savanna, and agitated by the breeze, formed shadowy islands which floated on a motionless sea of light. Near me, all was silence and repose, save the fall of some leaf, the transient rustling of a sudden breath of wind, or the hooting of the owl; but at a distance was heard, at intervals, the solemn roar of the Falls of Niagara, which in the stillness of the night, was prolonged from desert to desert, and died away among the solitary forests 10. The grandeur, the astonishing solemnity of the scene, cannot be expressed in language; nor can the most delightful aights of Europe afford any idea of it. In vain does imagination attempt to soar in our cultivated fields; it everywhere meets with the habitations of men: but in those wild regions the mind loves to penetrate into an ocean of forests, to hover round the abysses of cataracts, to meditate on the banks of lakes and rivers, and, as it were, to find itself alone with God. 147. THE HOLY WELLS OF IRELAND. FRASER. JOHN FRASER, more generally known by his nom de plume, "J. De Jean," was born near Birr, in King's county, on the banks of the river Brosna, and died in Dublin in 1849, about 40 years of age. He was an artisan—a cabinet-maker; a steady and unassuming workman,-enjoying the respect of his fellow-workmen, and the friendship of those to whom he was known by his literary and poetic talents. He possessed much mental power,-and had his means permitted him to cultivate and refine his poetic mind, he would have occupied a higher position as a poet than is now allotted him. As it is, he has clothed noble thoughts in terse and harmonious language: in his descriptive ballads he depicts, in vivid colors, the scenery of his native district, with all the natural fondness of one describing scenes hallowed by memories of childhood and maturer years. 1. THE holy wells-the living wells-the cool, the fresh, the pure A thousand ages roll'd away, and still those founts endure, As full and sparkling as they flow'd, ere slave or tyrant trod The emerald garden set apart for Irishmen by God! 2 How sweet, of old, the bubbling gush-no less to antlered race, Than to the hunter, and the hound, that smote them in the chase! In forest depths the water-fount begniled the Druid's love, From that celestial fount of fire which warm'd from worlds above; Inspired apostles took it for a centre to the ring, When sprinkling round baptismal life-salvation-from the spring; And in the sylvan solitude, or lonely mountain cave, Beside it pass'd the hermit's life, as stainless as its wave. 3 The cottage hearth, the convent wall, the battlemented tower, Grew up around the crystal springs, as well as flag and flower; The brooklime and the water-cress were evidence of health, And deemed the draught a heavenlier gift than triumph to his side. 4. The stag, the hunter, and the hound, the Druid and the saint, And anchorite are gone, and even the lineaments grown faint, Of those old ruins, into which, for monuments had sunk The glorious homes that held, like shrines, the monarch and the monk; So far into the heights of God the mind of man has ranged, It learn'd a lore to change the earth-its very self it changed To some more bright intelligence; yet still the springs endure, The same fresh fountains, but become more precious to the poor! 5 For knowledge has abused its powers, an empire to erect |