going on in the hall. At the same moment, followed by his daughter, who vainly entreated him to remain in the chamber, the pastor rushed headlong forward, wielding the club, so successful already against one set of enemies, in contest with another.

"Go not, father-go not," she cried earnestly, now fully restored to the acutest consciousness, and clinging to him passionately all the while.

"Go not, John, I pray you" implored the old lady, endeavoring to arrest him. But his impulse, under all circumstances, was the wisest policy. He could not hope for safety by hugging his chamber, and a bold struggle to the last a fearless heart, ready hand, and teeth clenched with a fixed purpose exhibit a proper reason when dealing with the avowed enemy. A furious inspiration seemed to fill his heart

as he went forward, crying aloud:

"I fear not. The buckler of Jehovah is over his servant. I go under the banner-I fight in the service of God. Keep me not back, woman has he not said shall I misbelieve - he will protect his servant. He will strike with the shepherd, and the wolf shall be smitten from the fold. Avoid thee, savage unloose thee from thy prey. The sword of the Lord and of Gideon!"

Thus saying, he rushed like one inspired upon the savage whose knife had already swept around the head of the negro. The scalping of July's head was a more difficult matter than the Indian had dreamed of, fighting in the dark. It was only when he laid hands upon it that he found the difficulty of taking a secure hold. There was no war-tuft to seize upon, and the wool had been recently abridged by the judicious scissors. He had, accordingly, literally to peel away the scalp with the flesh itself. The pastor interposed just after he had begun the operation.

"Avoid thee, thou bloody Philistine-give up thy prey. The vengeance of the God of Jacob is upon thee. In his name I strike, I slay."

As he shouted he struck a headlong, a heavy blow, which, could it have taken effect, would most probably have been fatal. But the pastor knew nothing of the arts of war, and though on his knees over the negro, and almost under the feet of his new assailant, the Indian was too "cunning of fence," too well practised in strategy, to be overcome in this simple

manner. With a single jerk which completed his labor, he tore the reeking scalp from the head of the negro, and dropping his own at the same instant on a level with the floor, the stroke of the pastor went clean over it; and the assailant himself, borne forward incontinently by the ill-advised effort, was hurried stunningly against the wall of the apartment, and in the thick of his enemies. In a moment they had him down — the club wrested from his hands, and exhaustion necessarily following such prodigious and unaccustomed efforts in so old a man, he now lay without strength or struggle under the knives of his captors.

As she beheld the condition of her father, all fear, all stupor, passed away instantly from the mind of Bess Matthews. She rushed forward - she threw herself between the red men and their victim, and entreated their knives to her heart rather than to his. Clasping the legs of the warrior immediately bestriding the body of the old man, with all a woman's and a daughter's eloquence she prayed for pity. But she spoke to unwilling ears, and to senses that, scorning any such appeals in their own cases, looked upon them with sovereign contempt when made by others. She saw this in the grim smile with which he heard her apostrophes. His white teeth, gleaming out between the dusky lips which enclosed them, looked to her fears like those of the hungry tiger, gnashing with delight at the banquet of blood at last spread before it. While yet she spoke, his hand tore away from her hair a long and glittering ornament which had confined it another tore from her neck the clustering necklace which could not adorn it; and the vain fancies of the savage immediately appropriated them as decorations for his own person - her own head-ornament being stuck most fantastically in the long, single tuft of hair the wartuft, and all that is left at that period of him who had seized it. She saw how much pleasure the bauble imparted, and a new suggestion of her thought gave her a momentary hope.

"Spare him - spare his life, and thou shalt have morethou shalt have beads and rings. Look-look," and the jewelled ring from her finger, and another, a sacred pledge from Harrison, were given into his grasp. He seized them with avidity.

"Good-good

more!" cried the ferocious but frivolous savage, in the few words of broken English which he imperfectly uttered in reply to hers, and which he well understood;

for such had been the degree of intimacy existing between the Yemassees and the settlers, that but few of the former were entirely ignorant of some portions of the language of the latter. So far, something had been gained in pleasing her enemy. She rushed to the chamber, and hurried forth with a little casket, containing a locket, and sundry other trifles commonly found in a lady's cabinet. Her mother, in the meanwhile, having arranged her dress, hurriedly came forth also, provided, in like manner, with all such jewels as seemed most calculated to win the mercy which they sought. They gave all into his hands, and, possibly, had he been alone, these concessions would have saved them, their lives at least; for these - now the spoils of the individual savage to whom they were given had they been found in the sack of the house, must have been common stock with all of them. But the rest of the band were not disposed for mercy when they beheld such an appropriation of their plunder, and while they were pleading with the savage for the life of the pastor, Ishiagaska, recovered from the blow which had stunned him, entering the apartment, immediately changed the prospects of all the party. He was inflamed to double ferocity by the stout defence which had been offered where he had been taught to anticipate so little; and, with a fierce cry, seizing Bess by the long hair, which, from the loss of her comb, now streamed over her shoulders, he waved the tomahawk in air, bidding his men follow his example and do execution upon the rest. Another savage, with the word, seized upon the old lady. These sights re-aroused the pastor. With a desperate effort he threw the knee of his enemy from his breast, and was about to rise, when the stroke of a stick from one of the captors descended stunningly, but not fatally, and sent him once more to the ground.

"Father-father! God of mercy-look, mother! they have slain him- they have slain my father!" and she wildly struggled with her captor, but without avail. There was but a moment now, and she saw the hatchet descending. That moment was for prayer, but the terror was too great; for as she beheld the whirling arm and the wave of the glittering steel, she closed her eyes, and insensibility came to her relief, while she sank down under the feet of the savage-a simultaneous movement of the Indians placing both of her parents at the same moment in anticipation of the same awful destiny that threatened her.

VOL. XVIII.— 30

SIMONIDES.

SIMONIDES, a Greek lyric poet; born on the island of Ceos in 556 B. C., died at Syracuse in 469 B. C. Shortly before the Persian War he went to Athens, where he wrote numerous epigrams, elegies, and dirges in connection with that memorable contest. In 477 B. C. he was for the fifty-sixth time victor in a poetical contest at Athens. Toward the close of his life he took up his residence at the Court of Hiero, ruler of Syracuse, on the island of Sicily. Many of his pieces relating to the Persian War have been handed down in the Greek Anthology.

TIME IS FLEETING.

To one dread gulf all things in common tend:
There loftiest virtues, amplest riches, end.
Long are we dying; reckoned up from birth,
Few years, and evil those, are ours on earth.

Of men the strength is small, the hopes are vain,
And pain in life's brief space is heaped on pain;
And death inevitable hangs in air,

Of which alike the good and evil share.

'Mid mortal beings naught for ever stays;
And thus with beauteous love the Chian says,
"The race of man departs like forest leaves; "
Though seldom he who hears the truth receives.

For hope, not far from each, in every heart-
Of men full-grown, or those unripe - will start:
And still while blooms the lovely flower of youth,
The empty mind delights to dream untruth;
Expects nor age nor death, and bold and strong
Thinks not that sickness e'er can work it wrong.

EPITAPHS.

A POOR man, not a Croesus, here lies dead,
And small the sepulchre befitting me:
Gorgippus I, who knew no marriage-bed
Before I wedded pale Persephone.

THOU liest, O Clisthenes, in foreign earth,

Whom wandering o'er the Euxine destiny found: Thou couldst not reach thy happy place of birth, Nor seest the waves that gird thy Chios round.

YOUNG Gorgo dying to her mother said,
While clinging on her bosom wept the maid,
"Beside my father stay thou here, and bear
A happier daughter for thine age to care."

AH! sore disease, to men why enviest thou

Their prime of years before they join the dead? — His life from fair Timarchus snatching now, Before the youth his maiden bride could wed.

EPIGRAMS, EPITAPHS, AND ELEGIES.

Go, passer-by, to Lacedæmon tell,
That here, obedient to her laws, we fell.
Of those at famed Thermopyla who lie,
Glorious the fortune, bright their destiny.
Their tomb an altar is; their noble name
A fond remembrance of ancestral fame;
Their death a song of triumph. Neither rust,
Nor time that turns all mortal things to dust,
Shall dim the splendor of that holy shrine

Where Greece forever sees her native virtues shine.
Nobly to die! if that be Virtue's crown,

Fortune to us her bounty well displayed.

Striving to make Greece free, we gained renown

That shrouds us where we lie, and ne'er can fade.

DANAË.

WHILST, around her lone ark sweeping,
Wailed the winds and waters wild,
Her wan cheeks all wan and weeping,
Danaë clasped her sleeping child.