THE LOST CHURCH. [The poet is speaking of the tradition respecting a lost Church, and the occasional sounding of its bell. In this tradition he finally recognizes the spirit of martyrdom and self-devotion, of that deep and fervent, all-pervading piety which once characterized the church; and in the sound of the bell, he hears the voice of conscience, whose tones of solemn admonition are reverberating in undying faithfulness.] FAR in the forest's thickly wooded green, Sweeps not more wildly ;—yet can none remove From the lost church, 't is said, the chime is borne, As late I wandered to that leafy shade, In this lone spot, the bell's mysterious voice, Darkness and silence hung on all around; An age, it seemed, had been vouchsafed to me, To dream the clouds of sin and sense away ; Clear as the light, a space unbounded, free, Above the mists, unclosed with brightest day. How bright that sun! how deeply blue that sky! And there a minster stood in sanctity. It shone resplendent in the gorgeous ray, Yes, from the steeple they came floating by, Oh! how I felt within that sweet abode ! The windows darkly gleamed with antique hue, Before that altar I devoutly bowed, The splendors of that mighty dwelling-place !— THE GERMAN EMIGRANT. Viewing thee, no fears we feel Lest thou, at length, some false pretender prove, Disseminated o'er its face, the earth Sustains, adepts in fiction, and who frame Fables, where fables could be least surmised. COWPER'S ODYSSEY. HOWEVER impossible it may be to obtain an exact statistical view of the German emigrants in this country, since they are regarded as American citizens after they have resided a few years among us, and have submitted to certain prescribed forms, it is well known that thousands and tens of thousands of these emigrants are spread over most of the States of the Union, and that every year brings many new settlers to our shores, who disperse over this country as seems to be best suited to their several occupations. But though in numerical respects you may find it difficult to arrive at any degree of certainty, it is much more easy to become acquainted with many prominent features of their general character. Whether you see them as pioneers, struggling through every difficulty, and overcoming every obstruction—or whether you visit them, when collected in families and quietly enjoying the fruits of their agricultural labors—or whether, finally, you meet with the German merchant and mechanic mingling in the larger cities with the American population-they enjoy everywhere the reputation of being a hard-working, temperate and honest people, little inclined to give way to temptations to which the lower classes of society are generally exposed, and highly susceptible to those religious and intellectual influences which they have enjoyed at home. However attached they may be to each other, and to their native land and language, they are found ready to adapt themselves to the customs and habits of the country of their adoption, to acquire its language, and to take a share in the voluntary burthens which are inseparable from our state of society. It is to this spirit that the German Charitable Societies owe their origin, to which I once more direct the attention of my reader, since they serve as effectual and important means of bringing about the virtual naturalization of the foreigner, of making him a useful citizen in every point of view. The fundamental principles laid down by these societies differ in general very little from each other, but the spirit in which these principles have been applied by the German Charitable Society of Boston-to whose Board I am indebted for the details here communicated-and various regulations which have been suggested by the peculiar situation of its members, call for a more particular reference, and deserve to be generally known and recommended. |