In mystic dance, not without song resound
His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light.
Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth

Of nature's womb, that in quaternion run
Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix,

And nourish all things, let your ceaseless change
Vary to our great Maker still new praise.
Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise
From hill or streaming lake, dusky or grey,
Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold,
In honor to the world's great Author rise,
Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolor'd sky,
Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers,
Rising or falling, still advance his praise.

3. His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow,
Breathe soft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines,
With every plant, in sign of worship wave.
Fountains, and ye that warble as ye flow,
Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise.
Join voices all, ye living souls; ye birds,
That singing up to heaven's gate ascend,
Bear on your wings, and in your notes, his praise.
Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk
The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep,
Witness, if I be silent, morn or even, .
To hill or valley, fountain, or fresh shade,
Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise.
Hail, universal Lord! be bounteous still,
To give us only good; and, if the night
Have gather'd aught of evil, or conceal'd,
Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.

SIEGE OF CALAIS.

1. EDWARD III., after the battle of Cressy, in the year 1347, laid siege to Calais. He had fortified his camp in so impregnable a manner, that all the efforts of France proved ineffectual to raise the siege or throw succors into the city.

When did Edward III. besiege Calais ?

The citizens, under count Vienne, their gallant governor, made an admirable defence. France had now put the sickle into her second harvest, since Edward, with his victorious army, sat down before the town. The eyes of all Europe were intent on the issue. At length famine did more for Edward than arms. After suffering unheard of calamities, they resolved to attempt the enemy's camp. They boldly sallied forth; the English joined battle; and after a long and desperate engagement, count Vienne was taken prisoner, and the citizens who survived the slaughter retired within their gates. The command devolving upon Eustace St. Pierre, a man of mean birth but exalted virtue, he offered to capitulate with Edward, provided he permitted him to depart with life and liberty.

2. Edward, to avoid the imputation of cruelty, consented to spare the bulk of the plebeians, provided they delivered up to him six of their principal citizens, with halters about their necks, as victims of due atonement for that spirit of rebellion with which they had inflamed the vulgar. When his messenger, Sir Walter Mauny, delivered the terms, consternation and pale dismay were impressed on every countenance. To a long and dead silence, deep sighs and groans succeeded, till Eustace St. Pierre, getting up to a little eminence, thus addressed the assembly :- My friends, we are brought to great straits this day. We must either yield to the terms of our cruel and unsparing conqueror, or give up our tender infants, our wives and daughters, to the bloody and brutal lusts of the violating soldiers. Is there any expedient left, whereby we may avoid the guilt and infamy of delivering up those who have suffered every misery with you, on the one hand-or the desolation and horror of a sacked city on the other? There is, my friends, there is one expedient left-a gracious, an excellent, a godlike expedient! Is there any here to whom virtue is dearer than life ?-Let him offer himself an oblation for the safety of his people! He shall not fail of a blessed approbation from that Power, who offered up his only Son for the salvation of mankind!"

Under whose command was the town defended?-On whom did it devolve, when Vienne was taken prisoner?-On what condition did Edward consent to raise the siege

Each

3. He spoke but an universal silence ensued. man looked around for the example of that magnanimity and virtue, which all wished to approve in themselves, though they wanted the resolution. At length St. Pierre resumed— "I doubt not but there are many here, as ready, nay, more zealous of this martyrdom, than I can be; though the station to which I am raised, by the captivity of lord Vienne, imparts a right to be the first in giving my life for your sakes. I give it freely-I give it cheerfully. Who comes next?"Five others, equally patriotic, soon followed his example. These six self-devoted victims then went out of the town bare-footed, with halters about their necks, and presented the keys to Sir Walter. He took the prisoners into his custody; then ordered the gates to be opened, and gave charge to his attendants to conduct the remaining citizens, with their families, through the camp of the English.

4. Before they departed, however, they desired permission to take their last adieu of their deliverers.—What a parting! What a scene! They crowded, with their wives and children, about St. Pierre and his fellow prisoners. They embraced-they clung around-they fell prostrate before them. They groaned, they wept aloud-and the joint clamor of their mourning passed the gates of the city, and was heard throughout the English camp. The English, by this time, were apprised of what passed within Calais. They heard the voice of lamentation, and their souls were touched with compassion. Each of the soldiers prepared a portion of his own victuals, to welcome and entertain the half famished inhabitants; and they loaded them with as much as their present weakness was able to bear, in order to supply them with sustenance by the way. At length St. Pierre and his fellow victims appeared under the conduct of Sir Walter and a guard. All the tents of the English were instantly emptied. The soldiers poured from all parts, and arranged themselves on each side, to behold, to contemplate, to admire this little band of patriots as they passed. They bowed down to them on all sides. They murmured their applause of that virtue, which they could not but revere, even in enemies; and they regarded those ropes which they had voluntarily

Who first offered himself a sacrifice to save his fellow citizens?

assumed about their necks, as ensigns of greater dignity than that of the British garter.

5. As soon as they reached his presence, "Mauny," says the monarch, "are these the principal inhabitants of Calais?""They are," says Mauny-" they are not only the principal men of Calais-they are the principal men of France, my lord, if virtue has any share in the act of ennobling." "Were they delivered peaceably?" says Edward. "Was there no resistance, no commotion among the people?" "Not in the least, my lord; the people would all have perished, rather than have delivered the least of these to your majesty. They are self-delivered, self-devoted; and come to offer up their inestimable heads, as an ample equivalent for the ransom of thousands." Edward was secretly piqued at this reply of Sir Walter. But he knew the privilege of a British subject, and suppressed his resentment. "Experience," says he, "has ever shown, that lenity only serves to invite people to new crimes. Severity, at times, is indispensably necessary to compel subjects to submission, by punishment and example. Go," he cried to an officer, "lead these men to execution.'

6. At this instant a sound of triumph was heard throughout the camp. The queen had just arrived with a powerful reinforcement of gallant troops. Sir Walter Mauny flew to receive her majesty, and briefly informed her of the particulars respecting the six victims. As soon as she had been welcomed by Edward and his court, she desired a private audience. My lord," said she, "the question I am to enter upon, is not touching the lives of a few mechanics-it respects the honor of the English nation; it respects the glory of my Edward, my husband, my king. You think you have sentenced six of your enemies to death. No, my lord, they have sentenced themselves; and their execution would be the execution of their own orders, not the orders of Edward. The stage on which they would suffer, would be to them a stage of honor, but a stage of shame to Edward; a reproach on his conquests; an indelible disgrace to his name. Let us rather disappoint these haughty burghers, who wish to invest themselves with glory at our expense. We cannot wholly deprive them of the merit of a sacrifice so nobly intended, but we may cut them short of their desires; in the place of that death by which their glory would be consummated let us

bury them under gifts, let us put them to confusion with applauses. We shall thereby defeat them of that popular opinion, which never fails to attend those who suffer in the cause of virtue.'

"I am convinced; you have prevailed; be it so ;" replied Edward. "Prevent the execution; have them instantly before us." They came; when the queen, with an aspect and accents diffusing sweetness, thus bespoke them-" Natives of France, and inhabitants of Calais, you have put us to vast expense of blood and treasure in the recovery of our just and natural inheritance; but you have acted up to the best of an erroneous judgment; and we admire and honor in you that valor and virtue, by which we are so long kept out of our rightful possessions. We loose your chains; we snatch you from the scaffold. You are now free to depart to your kinsfolk, your countrymen, to all whose lives and liberties you have so nobly redeemed, provided you refuse not the tokens of our esteem. Yet we would rather bind you to ourselves by every endearing obligation; and for this purpose, we offer to you your choice of the gifts and honors that Edward has to bestow. Rivals for fame, but always friends to virtue, we wish that England were entitled to call you her sons.' "Ah, my country!" cxclaimed St. Pierre; "it is now that I tremble for you. Edward only wins our cities-but Philippa conquers hearts."

UNCERTAINTY OF THE WORLD.

1. SELF-FLATTER'D, unexperienc'd, high in hope, When young, with sanguine cheer, and streamers gay, We cut our cable, launch into the world,

And fondly dream each wind and star our friend;

All, in some darling enterprise embark'd

And where is he, can fathom its extent?
Amid a multitude of artless hands,

Ruin's sure perquisite! her lawful prize!

Some steer aright; but the black blast blows hard,
And puffs them wide of hope-with hearts of proof,

Through whose influence were the six prisoners spared?

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