ON THE 300 SPARTANS WHO FELL IN THE CONTEST FOR THYREA. 66 ; Sparta, each valiant son of thine lies low With these proud words, in blood, 'we've won the field.' Much of beauty and appropriateness the ancient epitaphs must have derived from the localities of their tombs ; in the garden, the field, by the wayside, or along the margin of the murmuring river, slept the dead, reminding man of his frail and perishing nature, amid every scene, and in every mood. Often must nature thus have spoken to the heart with a thousand gentle tones of consolation. Often must the great lesson she is so incessantly presenting to our eyes of birth and death, decay and reproduction, have sensibly and visibly impressed itself on the feelings, and awakened the conviction which, however stifled, we cannot but believe lives in all, of our glorious destiny and immortality. Beautiful and not wholly unprofitable types and shadows would be suggested, tender thoughts and reflections cherished, and death itself associated with these pure and soothing influences, lose half its terrors. We feel that the epitaphs which survive, have lost half their charm deprived of these accompaniments; yet, with all these disadvantages, and even through our feeble version, we hope our readers will perceive the beauty of the following. INSCRIBED BY A MOTHER ON HER SON'S TOMB. Ah, hapless son-more hapless I who mourn In the cold world, that cannot share my woe. I feel such love as ours can never die— It bids me hope from this dull earth to soar BY LEONIDAS. This is the tomb of Crethon-wealth and power, BY LEONIDAS. Kind shepherd, should this cool retreat Pluck then a few, and gently shed INCERTI AUCTORIS. Though round thee beam the brightest eyes, No thought of care, no sense of pain, Pass but a few short years-thou must ON A NAMELESS TOMB. No word declares who rests beneath this tomb, I stood beside thy grave, dear friend, and thought When we together strayed by ocean's shore, Of warm devotedness, and love unbought. Renew the friendship, which despite of time THE DESTROYER AND THE DELIVERER. A TALE OF THE EARLY AGES. In one of those fruitful valleys which are still to be met by the traveller in the remote districts of Upper Syria, dwelt a tribe of the descendants of the patriarchs who exercised the primitive occupation of shepherds. Rarely wandering beyond the confines of the valley which supplied their flocks and herds with abundant pastures, these simple people were content with the blessings they enjoyed in the undisturbed solitude of their peaceful retreat. The fruits of the earth yielded their repasts, a delicious variety without care or culture, and their flocks supplied them with nutriment and clothing, which, if not of the most luxurious description, was sufficient for Nature's wants. Wars, contentions and jealousies were unknown in the valley of Ephron, for every person there possessed a competency of the necessaries of life, and the acquisition of more would have been troublesome and useless. Poverty there had never chilled with her cold hand, the kindly sympathies of the heart, nor had riches entered to corrupt the pure stream of benevolence. Amongst the dwellers in Ephron none was more revered than the aged Naram, for his superior wisdom. Full of years and honors-the honors conferred on exalted virtue by the respect of the virtuous, Naram lived to see his sons and daughters grow up around him, numerous and beautiful as the tall cedars that waved their lofty heads on the hills which sheltered the valleyone son only remained the staff of his declining age-the youngest child of his bosom, Salam. Graceful as the wild roe upon the mountains, fair as the full moon, was the youth Salam. Already had he numbered eighteen years; the boyish gaiety of his manners had begun to yield to the more chastened dignity of manhood; and, as he each day drove forth his father's flocks to the fresh pastures in the cool morning, or led them to the clear rivulets and shady thickets during the noon-tide heat, the maidens of Ephron would steal sidelong glances at the beautiful youth, and sigh when he departed without bestowing on them more than a passing word, or a look of common greeting. But Salam's heart, though unmoved by the beauty of many of the fairest daughters of his tribe, was not insensible to the influence of the sex in his childish days the gentle Zilpah had been the partner of his sports; with her he had sought the dripping honeycomb in the rock, plucked the brightest flowers by the stream's green margin, and gathered the freshest berries on the sunny bank; and, when maturer years brought with them deeper thoughts, and more serious duties, time found the love of the playmates altered but not lessened; its character had changed, but its spirit was still the same, and they continued to love each other with the purity of their first innocent affection. Naram beheld the attachment of the youthful pair with secret satisfaction; for the playful vivacity and endearing manners of Zilpah had so gained upon the old man's heart that he looked forward with joy to the time, when, in accordance with the custom of the tribe, Salam having accomplished his twentieth year, would be permitted to enter the marriage state. A still stronger motive, however. than even the beauty and virtue of Zilpah, made Naram desire that she should be united to his son. The girl, while yet an infant, had been left an orphan by a beloved sister, who, with her parting breath, confided the child to his care. Faithful to his charge he had tended her tender years with the affectionate solicitude of a parent, until the cherished blossom expanded beneath his eye into blushing womanhood, and the time had nearly arrived when she should forsake the aged trunk to seek It was, support from a fresher stem. therefore, that Naram encouraged the mutual love of Salam and Zilpah, for he felt that, in promoting their union, he would fulfil the sacred trust reposed in him, and contribute to the happiness of the two beings dearest to him on earth. Every evening, at the hour when Salam was wont to return with his flock to the dwelling of his father, Zilpah used to climb to the summit of an eminence which overlooked the vale, and watch with eager eye until she caught a glimpse of the white fleeces of his sheep winding through the valley, or heard the deep lowing of the kine as they drew near home; then, bounding down the steep path with the swiftness of a young antelope, she would fly to meet her lover, and receive from him, in requital of her artless affection, the kiss of peace and welcome. Then, with arms enwreathed lovingly together, like twin honeysuckles, the happy pair would slowly take their way up the hill, communing as they went on their approaching happiness, or relating to each other those simple occurrences of the day, that formed the brief records of their peaceful lives. In Naram's cottage a plain but wholesome repast awaited them, to afford its solace after the light toils of the day. Fruits glowing with gold and crimson, like an autumnal evening sky, that had been plucked by the fair hand of Zilpah herself, before the sun had topped the eastern hills; water, fresh and sparkling from the coolest fountain; cream and curds of enticing whiteness; and, to decorate the guiltless feast, wreaths of fragrant flowers, still redolent of the morning's breath. The repast concluded, this happy family poured forth their united praises to the Author and Giver of all good, in the untaught eloquence of hearts outgushing with love and gratitude to that beneficent Being; and when, in the stillness of twilight, the last faint cadence of their eventide song floated away over the dim woods, and the clear voice of Naram pronounced, in the name of the Most High, a solemn benediction on his household, they felt in spirit the outstretched wings of the Eternal One shadow and encompass them, and they laid down their heads to rest in the peaceful confidence of His protection. Happy times-thrice happy people! whose privilege it was to worship God in truth and purity undisturbed by the discords and heartburnings which, in these latter days, afflict and perplex the anxious servants of the Everlasting Father. Salam, as we have said, had passed the first eighteen years of his life in this quiet seclusion, but, though his manners had been moulded to the monotony and uninquiring habits of a patriarchal life, he possessed a mind endued with a strong thirst for extended knowledge, which, as he advanced in years, became an ever-burning desire to penetrate into the mysteries of Nature, and to behold her awful face unveiled. Even his love for Zilpah began to give way to this absorbing passion. Hour after hour would he, stretched beneath the shade of a spreading palm-tree, while his neglected flock ranged at large over the plain, watch the ceaseless flow of the stream from its parent rock, and marvel in what vast chamber lay its hidden fountains, or whence the source that supplied its never-failing waters. Often, too, would he linger at eve, to gaze upon the countless host of stars that studded the blue vault of heaven, and the pale moon as she walked in queenly beauty in her lonely path. And whence," he would exclaim, are fixed the dwellings of these glorious habitants of the sky? Why may I not soar away like the eagle of the rock, and mingling with these bright intelligences, learn from the wisdom of the stars the secrets which are denied to the clay-born children of this dull earth ?" 66 Anxious and disturbed, Salam applied to his father and the sages of his tribe for a solution of these queries. The old men, whose thoughts had never wandered beyond the limits of their native plains, regarded the young philosopher with looks of strange surprise; they nevertheless answered him mildly in the simplicity of their hearts, My son," said they, the knowledge thou seekest is beyond human comprehension. The stream runneth its free course to the sea, giving fertility to the land, and health to the dwellers thereon; but no eye hath seen its mighty reservoirs, or beheld its hidden chambers, which are in the bosom of the earth. The sun taketh his daily course in the heavens, and the moon and stars also have their everlasting places appointed in the firmament; but the earth is allotted for a brief space to be a dwelling-place for man. Behold! is it not fair to look upon, and doth it not yield unto our hands all that our hearts can desire? Be humble then, O son of Náram, and seek not the knowledge that bringeth only vain yearnings and presumptuous repinings." The sages departed, leaving Salam abashed, but not satisfied. His curiosity might indeed have been repressed by the modest reply of the sages, had not his inquisitive disposition led him into disquisitions of a more dangerous tendency than the elucidation of the sublime truths of natural philosophy. He had permitted his mind to wander into the inextricable mazes of metaphysical inquiry. The enigma of life and death incessantly occupied his thoughts, nor could he by the strongest efforts of his reason, form any distinct idea of the mysterious connexion between the soul and the body. "What is Death? and why was man born to die?" were the questions he repeatedly put to himself without being able to advance a single step nearer to the knowledge he aspired after. An incident which happened about this time helped to increase the fever of his restless imagination. A lamb of his flock unguardedly approaching too near the verge of a precipice, had missed its footing, and falling over the face of the rock, was dashed to pieces on the plain. Formerly this circumstance would have only produced in him a transient feeling of pity for the fate of the poor creature, but now, tossed as his mind was by vague desires, it aroused within it, in their full force, all his wildest speculations. For several minutes he regarded the mangled body of the lifeless animal, in profound silence; he laid his hand upon its side; it had already begun to grow cold, and its limbs to stiffen; and this," he exclaimed, "is DEATH! This lump of inanimate matter a few hours since was breathing and living as I am, and in another hour I may be as that thing now is. What! to become a clod of the valley; to lie without sense, motion or being! The thought makes me shudder; yet my father, Naram, fears not death, but looks forward to it as a weary wayfarer does to the shelter of his cottage roof, and the pleasant seat beneath his own fig-tree at eve. Is death then of evil or of good?" "Would'st thou know?" inquired a solemn voice behind him. Salam turned, for he thought he had been alone, and beheld a man of cominanding aspect, attired in a dark flow |