The voices of youth go with me still, Through the field and the wood, o'er the plain and the hill; In the roar of the sea, in the läugh of the rill. Every flower is a lover of mine, Every star is a friend divine; For me they blossom, for mc they shine. To give me joy the oceans roll They breathe their secrets to my soul, Man cannot harm me, if he would; Fate cannot touch me; nothing can stir Sing to me, flowers! preach to me, skies! Sigh to me, winds! ye forests, nod! Speak to me ever, thou flowery sod! Ye are mine-all mine-in the peace of God. REV. CHARLES MACKAY. XLV. AFTER THE BATTLE OF LAKE ERIE. As the sun went down over the still lake, his last beams looked on a mournful spectacle. Those ships, stripped of their spars and canvas, looked as if they had been swept by a hurricane, while desolation covered their decks. At twilight the seamen who had fallen on board the American fleet were committed to the deep, and the solemn burial service of the Episcopal church read over them. The uproar of the day had ceased, and deep silence rested on the two squadrons, riding quietly at anchor, broken only by the stifled groans of the wounded, that were echoed from ship to ship. As Perry sat that night on the quarter-deck of the Lawrence, conversing with his few remaining officers, while ever and anon the moans of his brave com'rades below were borne to his ear, he was solemn and subdued. The exciting scene through which he had safely passedthe heavy load taken from his heart-the reflection that his own life had been spared, and the consciousness that his little brother was slumbering sweetly and unhurt in his hammock beside him, awakened emotions of gratitude to God. It had been a proud day for him; and as he lay that night and thought what a change a few hours had wrought in his fortunes, feelings of exultation might well swell his bosom. Such unshaken composure—such gallant bearing-stern resolution and steadiness, and tenacity of purpose, in a young man of twenty-seven, in his first battle, exhibit a marvelous strength of character, and one wonders more at him than his success. It was a great victory; and, as the news spread, bonfires, illuminations, the firing of cannon, and shouts of excited multitudes, announced the joy and exultation of the nation. The gallant bearing of Perry— his daring passage in an open boat through the enemy's fire, to the Niagara-the motto on his flag-the manner in which he carried his vessel alone through the enemy's line, and then closed in half pistol shot his laconic account of the victory in a letter to the Secretary of the Navy, "WE HAVE MET THE ENEMY, AND THEY ARE OURS"— furnished endless themes for discussion and eūlogy, and he suddenly found himself in the front rank of heroes. The day after the battle the funeral of the officers of the two fleets took place. A little opening on the margin of the bay, a wild and solitary spot, was selected as the place of interment. It was a beautiful autumn day: not a breath of air ruffled the surface of the lake, or moved the still forests that fringed that lonely clearing. The sun shone brightly down on the new-made graves, and not a sound disturbed the Sabbath stillness that rested on forest and lake. The fallen officers, each in his appropriate uniform, were laid on platforms made to receive them, and placed, with their hands across their breasts, in the barges. As these were rowed gently away, the boats fell in behind in long procession, and the whole swept slowly and sadly toward the place of burial. The flags drooped mournfully in the still air, the dirge to which the oars kept time rose and fell in solemn strains over the water, while minute guns from the various vessels blended their impressive harmony with the scene. The day before had been one of strife and carnage; but those who had closed in mortal hate, now mourned like a band of brothers for their fallen leaders, and, gathering together around the place of burial, gazed a last farewell, and, firing one volley over the nameless graves, turned sadly away. There, in that wild spot, with the sullen waves to sing their perpetual dirge, they slept the sleep of the brave. They had fought gallantly, and it mattered not to them the victory or defeat, for they had gone to that still land where human strifes are forgotten, and the clang'or of battle never comes. J. T. HEADLEY. XLVI. THE GERMAN'S FATHERLAND. WHERE is the German's fatherland? Is't Prussia? "Swabia? Is't the 'strand How call they then the German's land? Is then the German's fatherland Then say, where lies the German's land? Where, therefore, lies the German's land? Say then, where lies the German's land? Where, therefore, lies the German's land? Where'er resounds the German's tongue- That is his land, the land of lands, That is the German's fatherland! Great God! look down and bless that land! And give her noble children souls, To cherish while existence rolls, And love with heart, and aid with hand, TRANSLATION. XLVII.-FUNERALS OF THE ANCIENT EGYPTIANS. IN Egypt, when any person died, all the kindred and friends quitted their usual habits, and put on mourning; and abstained from baths, wine, and dainties of every kind. The mourning lasted forty or seventy days, probably according to the quality of the person. Bodies were embalmed three ways. The most magnificent was bestowed on persons of distinguished ranks, and the expense amounted to a talent of silver, or nearly £140 sterling. They filled the body with myrrh, cinnamon, and all sorts of spices. After a certain time it was swathed in lawn fillets, which were glued together with a kind of very thin gum, and then crusted over with the most exquisite perfumes. By these means, it is said, the entire figure of the body, the very lineaments of the face, and the hairs on the eyelids and eyebrows, were preserved in their natural perfection. The body, thus embalmed, was delivered to the relations, who shut it up in a kind of open chest, fitted exactly to the size of the corpse; and then placed it upright against the wall, either in the sepulchres (if they had any) or in their own houses. These embalmed bodies are what we now call mummies, which are still brought from Egypt, and are found in the cabinets of the curious. This shows the care which the Egyptian's took of their dead. Their gratitude to their deceased relations was immortal. Children, by seeing the bodies of their ancestors thus preserved, recalled to mind those virtues, for which the public had honored them; and were excited to a love of those laws, which such excellent persons had left for their security. We find that part of these ceremonies was performed in the funeral honors done to Joseph in Egypt. Before any person, however, could be admitted into the sacred °asylum of the tomb, he underwent a solemn trial; and this circumstance, in the Egyptian funerals, is one of the most remarkable to be found in ancient history. It was a consolation, among the heathens, to a dying man, to leave a good name behind him: and they imagined that this is the only human blessing of which death can deprive us. But the Egyptians would not suffer praise to be bestowed indiscriminately on all deceased persons. This honor was to be obtained only from the public voice. The assembly of the judges met on the other side of a lake, which they crossed in a boat. He who sat at the helm, was called Charon in the Egyptian language; and this first gave the hint to Orpheus, who had been in Egypt, and after him to the other Greeks, to invent the fiction of Charon's boat. As soon as a man was dead, he was brought to his trial. The public accuser was heard. If he proved that the deceased had led a bad life, his memory was condemned, and he was deprived of burial. Laws which extended even beyond the grave, had a strong influence upon the minds of the people; and every one, struck with the disgrace inflicted on the dead person, was afraid to reflect dishonor on his own memory, and that of his family. But, if the deceased person was not convicted of any crime, he was "interred in an honorable manner. A still more astonishing circumstance, in this public inquest upon the dead, was that the throne itself was no protection from it. Kings were spared during their lives, because the public peace was concerned in this forbearance: but their quality did not exempt them from the judgment passed upon the dead, and even some of them were deprived of sepulture. This custom was imitated by the Israelites. We see, in Scripture, that bad kings were not interred in the monuments of their ancestors. This practice suggested to princes, that, if their majesty placed them out of the reach of men's judgments while they were alive, they would at least be liable to it when death should reduce them to a level with their subjects. When a favorable judgment was pronounced on a deceased person, the next thing was to proceed to the funeral cere monies. In his panegyric no mention was made of his birth, because every Egyptian was deemed noble. No praises were considered as just or true, but such as related to the personal merit of the deceased. He was applauded for having received an excellent education in his |