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And the fair youth, the matron and the sire,
Bowed down before the cross, and caught devotion's fire.

But God's avenging eye is on thee yet,

A harlot in thy pride he sees thee still;
And thou must see thy sun in darkness set,
And feel the vials of his wrath distill.
The Saracen on thee shall work his will,
Trampling in dust thy beauty; and anon,

The Mameluke come, and then the Turk, to fill

The measure of thy cup. Time hastens on,

When plundered, ravished, crushed, God's righteous will is done.

But not alone, O Tyre! thou liest low!

Towns, cities, nations, each of sin the slave,

Their idol gold, and their ambition show,

Are buried deep in ignominy's grave!

Thus all the proud, that wealth and honor crave

Or men or empires-and refuse to own

Him as their Lord, whose arm alone can save,

Like chaff before the breath of Heaven are strown,
Their very name a blank, their wealth and power unknown!

FEMALE BIOGRAPHY.

MARIA THERESA, Empress Queen of Bohemia and Hungary, was the daughter of the Emperor Charles VI., who, losing his only son, constituted her the heir of his dominions. She was born in 1717, and, at the age of nineteen, married Francis of Lorraine; and, on the death of her father, in 1740, ascended the throne. No sooner had she attained that envied, though dangerous position, than the neighboring princes invaded her dominions on all sides; and she being no longer in safety at Vienna, fled for protection to her Hungarian subjects. She assembled the States, and presenting herself before them, with her infant in her arms, addressed them in Latin in the following memorable words: "Abandoned by my friends, persecuted by my enemies, attacked by my nearest relations, I have no other resource than in your fidelity, in your courage, and my own constancy. I commit to your care the son of your king, who has no other safety than your protection." At the spectacle of the beauty and distress of their young Queen, the Hungarians, a warlike people, drew their swords, and exclaimed, as with one voice: "We will die for our queen, Maria Theresa!" An army was assembled; and the queen, who had two powerful supports in her rare talents, and the love of her people, recovered several important places; the kings of England and Sardinia espoused her cause; and after eight years of war, Maria Theresa was confirmed in her rights by the peace of 1748. She then directed her attention to

repairing the evils which the war had occasioned; the arts were encouraged, and commerce extended. The ports of Trieste and Turin were opened to all nations, Leghorn extended her commerce to the Levant and the East Indies. The city of Vienna was enlarged and embellished; and manufactures of cloth, porcelain, silk, &c., were established in its vast suburbs. To encourage science, the Empress erected universities and colleges throughout her dominions, one of which, at Vienna, bears her name. She founded schools for drawing, sculpture, and architecture; formed public libraries at Prague and Inspruck, and raised magnificent observatories at Vienna, Gratz, and Tiernan.

In 1756 the torch of war was again kindled, and was not extinguished till 1763, when the treaty of Hubertsborough placed the affairs of Germany on nearly the same footing as before the war. The only advantage Maria Theresa reaped was, electing her son Joseph king of the Romans in 1764. The next year she experienced a great domestic misfortune in the loss of her husband, to whom she had been tenderly attached; the mourning she assumed was never laid aside during her life; and she founded at Inspruck a chapter of nuns, whose office was to pray for the repose of the soul of this beloved husband. Vienna beheld her every month water with her tears the tomb of this prince, who, for thirty years, had been her support and adviser.

After a long and glorious reign, and having beheld her eight children seated on the thrones, or united to the monarchs of some of the most flourishing States of Europe, and after having merited the title of Mother of her country, Maria Theresa descended to the tomb in 1780. Her last moments were employed in shedding benefits upon the poor and orphans: and the following were some of the last words which she uttered: "That state in which you now behold me," said she to her son, " is the termination of what is called power and grandeur. During a long and painful reign of forty years, I have loved and sought after truth; I may have been mistaken in my choice, my intentions may have been ill understood, and worse executed; but he who knows all, has seen the purity of my intentions, and the tranquillity I now enjoy is the first pledge of his acceptance, and emboldens me to hope for more. One of the most consoling thoughts on my deathbed," said she, "is that I have never closed my heart to the cry of misfortune."

THE FINGER OF GOD

Go listen to the whirlwind's roar,

As over all 'tis fiercely sweeping,
Hurling each severed trunk before
Its face, as o'er the mount it's leaping;
And see the beast before it fall,

Or spring affrighted from its lair,
And as the storm its limbs appal,

Thou see'st, O man, God's finger there.

Go! watch the sun's last glimmering ray,
As in the west he's slowly sinking,
His brightness fading fast away,

As dews that from his face are shrinking;
See the light clouds which there unfold
Their loveliness in evening air,
And gazing on their forms of gold,
Thou'lt see God's glorious finger there.

Go! seek in summer wood a flower,

So graceful from its foot-stalk bending,
And then reflect that in an hour,

'Twill with the mother earth be blending;
Minutely trace its symmetry,

Each stamen and each petal fair,

And thou art blind, or thou wilt see,

In each faint line, God's finger there.

Go! look upon a penitent

Who long has been from heaven straying,
And listen to his voice intent,

As on his bended knees he's praying;

That wretch who all his life has spent

In wickedness, without a prayer,

Yet now his heart is upward sent,

For God's own finger sure is there.

Go! lowly kneel before his shrine,

The gushings of your full heart pouring,
And pray that bright your lamp may shine,
'Till loosed from earth you're upward soaring!

Go! heavy laden, and find rest,

A soothing draught for all your care,
And peaceful as you feel your breast,
Reflect God's finger's touch is there!

A CREATURE, who spends its whole time in dressing, gaming, prating and gadding, is a being originally, indeed, of the rational make; but who has sunk itself beneath its rank, and it is to be considered at present as nearly on a level with the monkey-species. B. CONSTANT.

DIGNITY.

AMONG the various characteristics of high-toned humanity, that which most attracts attention and secures respect is true dignity of mind and action. It is to the possessor a direct passport to the heart, and renders him honorable among his fellow beings. It is constituted of a sense of man's high attributes and of his accountability to the divine Author of his life, and is one of the natural feelings implanted in his breast by that Being who gave to him complete possession of every tangible entity which his wisdom brought into existence.

Man is truly "lord of creation:" with everything at his command for his comfort and happiness, he stands a monument of the power of God and the glory of the universe.

His superior natural faculties and qualifications tend to give him an exalted idea of the perfection of the Deity, and to make him proud of his existence, while the consciousness of his entire accountability makes it apparent to him that his earthly career must be in accordance with the conceptions he himself is capable of forming, of what constitutes propriety and justice.

Such is man's position; and that his actions may be conformable to natural laws, his character must be deeply imbued with the principle of dignity. We are told that "an honest man is the noblest work of God." Now, reader, what is the definition of nobleness and of honesty? Can that man be considered noble, who has not the moral courage to assert his rights under any circumstances? Can that man be honest who dare not stand erect and meet his fellow beings face to face? The evident and only answer to these interrogatories, is in the negative. It follows, then, that honesty and dignity are inseparably connected, and that dignity is one of the noblest traits in man's mental formation.

But through a strange perversion, it has occurred that men are possessed of the opposite quality-that of meanness. That there is, aside from these two feelings (dignity and meanness), a wide difference in men, you are all well aware, nor need I enter into any argument to show how it arose. Indeed, it is not necessary for my present purpose, to attempt an explanation of the matter, but taking the obvious fact as a groundwork, I would simply remark, that as some have noble feelings, and others have not, and as those who have, succeed in gaining friendship and respect, they who have not must needs make some contrivance to be equal; and hence spring cunning and assurance, and forcing as it were their possessor into notice, they seek to wring our

affections from us despite of ourselves. The natural superiority of pure motives over meanness, cannot be borne by those envious spirits who throng society, and they resort to a counterfeit in order to obtain their ends. But a discerning eye and discriminating judgment may always detect the imposition, and in time will strip duplicity of its mask, and exhibit it in all its deformity, its baseness and corruption.

Dignity is a quality of the mind that cannot be successfully copied, for no one who has it not, has even an idea of its grandeur and the peculiar emotions it awakens and shadows forth. The effects are seen, the springs are hidden. Many seem to mistake haughtiness and arrogance for dignity, but they are as far removed from it as the semblance of purity from purity itself. The inordinate vanity of such men (perhaps I should say things) allows them to consider themselves as being of a nobler race and of brighter talents than those around them, and they continually take occasion to dictate in matters of which they in reality know nothing, and care less, only as tending to display their opinions of their own dear persons, to which point all their views concentrate and fix them.

We need not wander far to see such a being. We can all point to him; behold him as he deigns to look upon the humble man and says, at least in action and mein, "Iam Sir Oracle, and when I ope my mouth, let no dog bark!" Man is a strange creature, but an ass in lion's clothing is still more strange, although we have daily exemplification of this change of attire. The artifice may succeed for awhile, but when persevered in for any considerable length of time, it exposes itself, the bubble bursts, and the puffed-up demi-noble sinks into utter insignificance. Others fall into the opposite extreme, and have the opinion that a continual smile, and the treating of all with whom they come into contact with measured and extreme politeness, will insure to them that respect which their true merits, or rather demerits, would never entitle them to. Alas! even this will not do, and its falsity is as plainly perceptible as the conduct of the courtier, who, having a design upon the life of his patron, at the same instant in which he is endeavoring to gain his confidence, betrays himself by an over anxiety for his lordship's welfare, and a bow entirely too low. Other expedients than the one I have named, emanating from the same corrupted desire, are resorted to, but the thin gauze of mock nobleness is not sufficient to conceal the secret and actual motives of the heart.

But why need I rail against the vices and imperfections of man, when every one has within his own bosom faults, which, if known even to himself, would excite his indignation and abhorrence? Why? Why? We are all imperfect, but some have the judg

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