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finished into a perennial fountain that through the lips or through the hands the clear water flows in a perpetual stream on and on forever, and the marble stands there, passive, cold, — making no effort to arrest the gliding water?

4. It is so that time flows through the hands of men swift, never pausing till it has run itself out; and there is the man petrified into a marble sleep, not feeling what it is which is passing away forever! It is so, just so, that the destiny of nine men out of ten accomplishes itself, slipping away from them aimless, useless, till it is too late. And we are asked, with all the solemn thoughts which crowd around our approaching eternity, What has been our life, and what do we intend it shall be ?

5. Yesterday, last week, last year, they are gone! Yesterday was such a day as never was before, and never can be again. Out of darkness and eternity it was born, a new, fresh day; into darkness and eternity it sank again forever. It had a voice, calling to us of its own, - its own work, its own duties. What were we doing yesterday? Idling, whiling away the time, in light and luxurious literature; not as life’s relaxation, but as life's business? Thrilling our hearts with the excitement of life, contriving how to spend the day most pleasantly? Was that our day?

6. All this is but the sleep of the three apostles. And new let us remember this: There is a day coming when the sleep will be broken rudely, — with a shock; there is a day in our future lives when our time will be counted, not by years, nor by months, nor yet by hours, but by minutes, — the day when unmistakable symptoms shall announce that the messenger of death has come to take us.

7. That startling moment will come, which it is vain to attempt to realize now, when it will be felt that it is all over at last — that our chance and our trial are past. The moment that we have tried to think of, shrunk from, put away from us, here it is — going too, like all other mo

ments that have gone before it; and then with eyes unsealed at last, we shall look back on the life which is gone by.

I SEN-SA'TION. Impression made up-1 3 PĚT'RIFIED. Changed to a stone or

on the mind by something acting a stony substance.

on the bodily organs ; feeling. 4 SYMP'TOM. Sign; token. 2 YR-RÉP'A-RA-BLE. That cannot be 5 ỦN-SEALED'. Without a seal, or hayrepaired or recovered.

i ing the seal broken ; open.

LIV.- THE COMBAT.

SIR WALTER SCOTT.

{This piece is taken from the Lady of the Lake. King James V., of Scotland, under the assumed name of Fitz James, while alone in the wilds of the Highlands had come into the presence of Roderick Dhu, the chief of a rebellious clan, and had been hospitably entertained by him over night. In tho morning, after Fitz James had been guided by Roderick Dhu beyond the hostile district, the following scene occurs.]

1. The Chief in silence strode before,

And reached that torrent's sounding shore,
Which, daughter of three mighty lakes,
From Vennachar in silver breaks.
And here his course the chieftain stayed,
Threw down his target and his plaid',
And to the Lowland warrior said,

2. , “ Bold Saxon?! to his promise just,

Vich-Alpine' has discharged his trust.
This murderous chief, this ruthless 4 man,
This head of a rebellious clan,
Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward,
Far past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard :
Now, man to man, and steel to steel,
A chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel.
See here, all vantageless. I stand,

Armed, like thyself, with single brand :
For this is Coilantogle ford,
And thou must keep thee with thy sword.” –.

3. The Saxon paused :-“I ne'er delayed

When foeman bade me draw my blade;
Nay, more, brave Chief, I vowed thy death:
Yet sure thy fair and generous faith,
And my deep debt for life preserved,
A better meedo have well deserved :
Can nought but blood our feud atone ?
Are there no means ?” – “No, stranger, none!
And hear, — to fire thy flagging zeal, -
The Saxon cause rests on thy steel ;
For thus spoke Fate, by prophet bred
Between the living and the dead :
Who spills the foremost foeman's life,
His party conquers in the strife.” —

4. “Then, by my word,” the Saxon said,

“ The riddle is already read.
Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff, —
There lies Red Murdock,* stark and stiff.
Thus Fate has solved her prophecy,
Then yield to Fate, and not to me. ·
To James, at Stirling, let us go,
When, if thou wilt be still his foe,
Or if the King shall not agree
To grant thee grace and favor free,
I plight mine honor, oath, and word,
That, to thy native strengths restored,
With each advantage shalt thou stand,
That aids thee now to guard thy land."

* Red Murdock, a treacherous guide, had been killed by Fitz James, the preweding day.

5. Dark lightning flash'd from Roderick's eye

“Soars thy presumption, then, so high,
Because a wretched kern’ye slew,
Homage to name to Roderick Dhuo?
He yields not, he, to man nor Fate !
Thou add'st but fuel to my hate :
My clansman's blood demands revenge.
Not yet prepared! By Heaven, I change
My thought, and hold thy valor light
As that of some vain carpet-knight',
Who ill deserved my courteous care,
And whose best boast is but to wear
A braid of his fair lady's hair."

6. “I thank thee, Roderick, for the word !

It nerves my heart, it steels my sword;
For I have sworn this braid to stain
In the best blood that warms thy vein.
Now, truce, farewell! and, ruth “, begone!
Yet think not that by thee alone,
Proud Chief! can courtesy be shown;
Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn",
Start at my whistle clansmen stern,
Of this small horn one feeble blast
Would fearful odds against thee cast.
But fear not — doubt not — which thou wilt -
We try this quarrel hilt to hilt.”

7. Then each at once his falchion"? drew,

Each on the ground his scabbard threw,
Each looked to sun, and stream, and plain,
As what they ne'er might see again;
Then foot, and point, and eye opposed,
In dubious strife they darkly closed.

8. Ill fared it then with Roderick Dhu,

That on the field his targe he threw,
Whose brazen studs and tough bull-hide
Had death so often dashed aside;
For, trained abroad his arms to wield,
Fitz-James's blade was sword and shield
He practised every pass and ward,
To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard;
While less expert, though stronger far,
The Gael": maintained unequal war.

9. Three times in closing strife they stood,

And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood;
No stinted draught, no scanty tide,
The gushing flood the tartans 14 dyed.
Fierce Roderick felt the fatal drain,
And shower'd his blows like wintry rain;
And, as firm rock, or castle roof,
Against the winter-shower is proof,
The foe, invulnerable still,
Foiled his wild rage by steady skill;
Till, at advantage ta’en, his brand
Forced Roderick's weapon from his hand,
And, backward borne upon the lea,
Brought the proud Chieftain to his knee.

10. “Now, yield ye, or, by Him who made

The world, thy heart's blood dyes my blade!"
“Thy threats, thy mercy, I defy!
Let recreant yield, who fears to die.”
- Like adder darting from his coil,
Like wolf that dashes through the toil 15,
Like mountain-cat who guards her young,
Full at Fitz-James's throat he sprung;

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