LESSON LVIII.

Death-Song of Outalissi.-CAMPBELL.

"AND I could weep,"-the Oneida chief
His descant wildly thus begun,—
"But that I may not stain with grief
The death-song of my father's son,
Or bow this head in wo;

For, by my wrongs and by my wrath,
To-morrow, Areouski's breath,

That fires yon heaven with storms of death,

Shall light us to the foe:

And we shall share, my Christian boy,

The foeman's blood, the avenger's joy!

"But thee, my flower, whose breath was given
By milder genii o'er the deep,
The spirits of the white man's heaven
Forbid not thee to weep:

Nor will the Christian host,

Nor will thy father's spirit grieve
To see thee, on the battle's eve,
Lamenting, take a mournful leave

Of her who loved thee most:

She was the rainbow to thy sight,
Thy sun-thy heaven-of lost delight.

But when the bolt of death is hurled, Ah! whither then with thee to fly?

Shall Outalissi roam the world?

Seek we thy once-loved home?

The hand is gone that cropped its flowers.
Unheard the clock repeats its hours;
Cold is the hearth within those bowers;

And should we thither roam,

Its echoes, and its empty tread,

Would sound like voices from the dead.

all we cross yon mountains blue,

-se streams my kindred nation quaffed, y my side, in battle true,

ousand warriors drew the shaft?

ere, in desolation cold,

desert serpent dwells alone,

ere grass o'ergrows each mouldering bone, stones themselves, to ruin grown,

me are death-like old.

n seek we not their camp; for there silence dwells of my despair.

hark! the trump !-to-morrow, thou
glory's fires shalt dry thy tears:
from the land of shadows now
father's awful ghost appears,
st the clouds that round us roll:
bids my soul for battle thirst,-
bids me dry the last, the first,
⇒ only tears, that ever burst
Outalissi's soul;

cause I may not stain with grief
e death-song of an Indian chief."

LESSON LIX.

ait of a worldly-minded Woman.-FREEMAN.

AN has spent her youth without the practice of any e virtue, or the commission of any thing which tly wrong; and she is now united with a man, ral endowments are not more distinguished than

but who is industrious, rich and prosperous. he connexion she had no objection; and it is what Is entirely approved. His standing in life is respecd they both pass along without scandal, but without probation of their own consciences, and without any ause from others; for the love of the world is the

principle, which predominates in their bosoms; and the world never highly praises its own votaries.

She is not absolutely destitute of the external appearance of religion; for she constantly attends church in the afternoon, unless she is detained by her guests; and in the morning, unless she is kept at home by a slight indisposition, or unfavorable weather, which, she supposes, happen more frequently on Sundays than other days; and which, it must be confessed, are several degrees less inconvenient and less unpleasant, than similar causes, which prevent her from going to a party of pleasure. This, however, is the end of her religion, such as it is; for when she is at church, she does not think herself under obligations to attend to what is passing there, and to join in the worship of her Maker.

She cannot, with propriety, be called a woman professing godliness; for she makes no public profession of love to her Savior: she does only what is customary; and she would do still less, if the omission was decorous. Of domestic religion, there is not even a semblance. As her husband does not think proper to pray with his family, so she does not think proper to pray with her children, or to instruct them in the doctrines and duties of Christianity. On the gospel, however, no ridicule nor contempt is cast; and twice or thrice in a year, thanks are given to God at her table,—that is, when a minister of religion is one of her guests.

No time being consumed in devotion, much is left for the care of her house, to which she attends with worldly discretion.

Her husband is industrious in acquiring wealth; and she is equally industrious in spending it in such a manner as to keep up a genteel appearance. She is prudent in managing her affairs, and suffers nothing to be wasted through thoughtlessness. In a word, she is a reasonable economist; and there is a loud call, though she is affluent, that she should be so, as her expenses are necessarily great. But she is an economist, not for the indigent, but for herself; not that she may increase her means of doing good, but that she may adorn her person, and the persons of her children, with gold, and pearls, and costly array; not that she may make a feast for the poor, the maimed, the lame, and the blind, but that she may make a dinner or a supper for

eighbors, who will bid her again. Though the
as for these expensive dining and evening parties,
Ksome than the toils of the common laborer, yet
s to them with readiness; for she loves the world,
ves the approbation, which she hopes the world
on the brilliancy of her decorations, and the ex-
e of her high-seasoned viands and delicious wines.
reputation, she foregoes the pleasure which she
in giving bread to the fatherless, and in kindling
il fire on the hearth of the aged widow. Thus,
e has many guests at her board, yet she is not
: and though she gives much away, yet she is not
; for she gives to those who stand in no need of

ot this woman completely selfish; for she loves her he is sedulous in conferring on her daughters a cation, and in settling them in the world as repushe is established herself. For her sons she is anxious, because the sons of the rich are too icted to extravagance; and she is desirous to prefrom dissipations, which would tarnish the good t she would have them enjoy in the world, and ove all, would impair their fortunes. But here her erminates. She loves nothing out of the bosom of amily: for the poor and the wretched she has no

t strictly accurate to say, that she bestows nothing because she sometimes gives in public charities, ould not be decent to withhold her donations; and imes gives more privately, when she is warmly sod when all her friends and neighbors give: but, in , she concedes her alms with a cold and unwilling he considers it in the same light as her husband taxes which he pays to the government, as a debt ist be discharged, but from which she would be glad

ational woman, however, must not be supposed to herself without reason, she endeavors to find excuses missions. Her first and great apology is, that she relations to provide for. In this apology there is

truth. Mortifying as she feels it to be, it must be confessed that she is clogged with indigent connexions, who are allowed to come to her house, when she has no apprehension that they will be seen by her wealthy visitants. As it would be a gross violation of decency, and what every one would condemn as monstrous, for her to permit them to famish, when she is so able to relieve them, she does, indeed, bestow something on them; but she gives it sparingly, reluctantly and haughtily. She flatters herself, however, that she has now done every thing which can with justice be demanded of her, and that other indigent persons have not a claim on er bounty.

Another apology is, that the poor are vitious, and do not deserve her beneficence. By their idleness and intemperance they have brought themselves to poverty. They have ittle regard to truth; and though it must be allowed that heir distress is not altogether imaginary, yet they are ever lisposed to exaggerate their sufferings. Whilst they are ready to devour one another, they are envious toward the -ich, and the kindness of their benefactors they commonly epay with ingratitude. To justify these charges, she can produce many examples; and she deems that they are suficient excuses for her want of humanity. But she forgets, n the mean while, that the Christian woman, who sincerely oves God and her neighbor, in imitation of her heavenly Father, is kind to the evil as well as the good, to the unhankful as well as the grateful.

LESSON LX.

Portrait of a selfish Woman.-FREEMAN.

A YOUNG WOMAN, in a state of prosperity, is not yet much orrupted by the world, and has not entirely lost the simlicity and innocence of her early years. She has passed er childhood diligently and laudably, in the acquisition of hose elegant accomplishments, which are so highly ornamen. al to the daughters of the rich; and she is now the pride of