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which shone dazzlingly in the wild light of the flames; they supposed that incalculable treasures were laid up in 50 the sanctuary. A soldier, unperceived, thrust a lighted torch between the hinges of the door; the whole building was in flames in an instant. The blinding smoke and fire forced the officers to retreat; and the noble edifice was left to its fate.
It was an appalling spectacle to the Roman-what was it to the Jew? The whole summit of the hill, which commanded the city, blazed like a volcano. One after another the buildings fell in, with a tremendous crash, 5 and were swallowed up in the fiery abyss. The roofs of cedar were like sheets of flame; the gilded pinnacles shone like spikes of red light; the gate towers sent up tall columns of flame and smoke. The neighbouring hills were lighted up; and dark groups of people were 10 seen watching in horrible anxiety the progress of the destruction: the walls and heights of the upper city were crowded with faces, some pale with the agony of despair, others scowling unavailing vengeance. The shouts of the Roman soldiery, as they ran to and fro, and the 15 howlings of the insurgents who were perishing in the flames, mingled with the roaring of the conflagration and the thundering sound of falling timbers. The echoes of the mountains replied, or brought back the shrieks of the people on the heights: all along the walls, resounded 20 screams and wailings; men, who were expiring with famine, rallied their remaining strength to utter a cry of anguish and desolation.
The slaughter within was even more dreadful than the spectacle from without. Men and women, old and 25 young, insurgents and priests, those who fought and those who intreated mercy were hewn down in indiscriminate carnage. The numbers of the slain exceeded that of the slayers. The legionaries had to clamber over heaps of dead, to carry on the work of extermina80 tion. John, at the head of some of his troops, cut his way through, first into the outer court of the temple; afterwards into the upper city. Some of the priests upon the roof wrenched off the gilded spikes, with their sockets of lead, and used them as missiles against the
35 Romans below.
Afterwards they fled to a part of the wall, about fourteen feet wide: they were summoned to surrender; but two of them, Mair, son of Belgo, and Joseph son of Dalia, plunged headlong into the flames. No part escaped the fury of the Romans. The treas40 uries, with all their wealth of money, jewels, and costly robes the plunder which the zealots had laid up—were totally destroyed. Nothing remained but a small part of the outer cloister, in which 6000 unarmed and defenceless people, with women and children, had taken refuge. 45 These poor wretches, like multitudes of others, had been
led up to the temple by a false prophet, who had proclaimed that God commanded all the Jews to go up to the temple, where he would display his Almighty power to save his people. The soldiers set fire to the building, 50 and every soul perished.
The Charnel Ship.-CHARLESTON COURIER.
1 The night-the long dark night at last
'Mid crashing ice, and howling blast,
2 The storm had ceased-its wrath had rent
And many a piercing glance they sent
And sailor hearts their rude praise gave,
3 The breeze blew freshly, and the Sun
Sad trophies-in the past night's war
4 But lo!-still farther off appears
Its slow, strange progress mark;
5 Near, and more near-and can it be,
6 ()"God of the Màriner! protèct
(°) Ha! she has struck-she gròunds—she stànds ·· Still as if held by giant hands.
7 "Quick, man the boat!"-away they sprang, The stranger ship to aid;
And loud their hailing voices rang,
And rapid speed they made:
But all in silence, deep, unbroke,
8 'Twas fearful-not a sound arose-
Which filled each heart with fear;
9 He was alone-the damp, chill mould
The tale no voice might speak:
Seventy days," the record stood, "Had they been in the ice, and wanted food."
10 They took his book, and turned away, But soon discovered where
The wife, in her death-sleep, gently lay,
Who, seated beside his young heart's pride,
11 Oh, wedded lòve! how beaùtiful,
12 There was a solemn, sacred feeling Kindled in every breast;
And softly from the cabin stealing,
13 And to their boat returning, each
That Charnel Ship, which years before,
14 They left her in the ìcebergs, where
A monument of death and fear,
And, grateful for their own release,
Thanked God, and sought their homes in peace
Life.-A Spanish Poem.-EDINBURGH REVIEW.
1 Oh! while we eye the rolling tide,
Let us the present hour employ,
2 Let no vain hope deceive the mind—
Our golden dreams of yore were bright,
Like them decay.
3 Our lives like hasting streams must be,
The sea of death, whose waves roll on,
4 Alike the river's lordly tide, Alike the humble riv❜let's glide To that sad wave;
Death levels poverty and pride,
5 Our birth is but a starting place;
There all those glittering toys are bought,
6 Say then how poor and little worth Are all those glittering toys of earth, That lure us here?
Dreams of a sleep that death must break,
Death and the Drunkard.-ANONYMOUS.
1 His form was fair, his cheek was health;
His wife the fount of ceaseless joy;
Till half its contents decked his head.
I wished not to disturb his bliss
'Tis gone! but all the fault was his.