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IDE. (GEORGE B. IDE, D. D., is a native of Vermont, and a graduate of Middlebury College in that State. He has been for some years pastor of the First Baptist Ch. in Springfield, Mass. His sermons, many of which have been printed. are marked by vigor of expression and a fertile fancy. He has written several popular hymns, and is the author of “Green Hollow, or the Power of Kindness," a story of real life.

Troas was a region in the northwest part of Asia Mi222, ruled over by the ancient kings of Ilium, or Troy, a famous city taken by the Greeks under command of Agamemnon. Tenedos is a small island off the coast of Troas. Phi. lippi was a town in Macedonia, in the northern part of Greece. Illyricum, now Illyria, is a country lying on the east coast of the Adriatic.]

At the port of Troas, a spot rich in memories of the olden time, with the ruins of Ilium in the distance, and the classic waves of the Ægean breaking at their feet, were

now assembled Paul, Silas, Timothy, and Luke — four 5 obscure and unknown voyagers, but bound on a mightier

mission than had ever before been wafted over these farfamed waters.

Across the narrow strait on which they gazed, the ships of Greece had come to the siege of Troy, and full in their 10 view lay the renowned Tenedos. Along the very coast where

they stood, the myriads of Xerxes had proudly marched, while his fleet covered the sea. And, in later days, the same isle-gemmed billows had been ploughed by many a

Roman galley, exulting in the pomp of victory. But never 15 had they borne a freight so precious, or one charged with

such vast results as that which was now to be committed to their keeping.

A lowly bark, whose name no historian has recorded, and no poet has sung, puts forth from the haven and wooes 20 the favoring breeze. No sound of trumpet announces its

departure; no shouting multitudes cheer it on its way; no banners floating from its masts proclaim the greatness of its embassy. And yet it bears destinies more grand than those of Agamemnon or Alexander.

On its deck, in the persons of those toil-worn and unregarded wayfarers, stand the messengers of the living God; and in the simple doctrine of a crucified Christ, which they

go to publish, there resides an all-conquering power, which 5 shall prostrate the idolatry of Greece, silence its oracles,

confound its philosophy, and pour upon its population the beams of heavenly truth; and which, spreading that truth to the farthest regions of the West, shall elevate its bar

barian hordes to the pinnacle of civilization, and render 10 them centres of intellectual and moral light to the again darkened East.

Speeded by propitious gales, the little craft reaches its destination. Paul treads the heroic soil of Macedon, and

begins, at Philippi, that series of evangelical conflicts and 15 successes, in which, through all the provinces of Greece,

from Corinth to Illyricum, he “fully preached the gospel of Christ.”


SHAKSPEARE. (The following scene is taken from the historical play of “King Henry VIII,” Cardinal Wolsey had been prime minister of England, the possessor of enormous wealth and unbounded power, but, in losing the favor of the king, had lost all. Cromwell was a friend and member of his household, who remained faithful to his benefactor in his fallen fortunes.]

Wol. Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness !
This is the state of man: To-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms,

And bears his blushing honors thick upon him ; 6 The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost,

And — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
His greatness is a-ripening - nips his root;
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured,

Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, 10 This many summers, in a sea of glory;

But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride

At length broke under me, and now has left me,
Weary and old with service, to the mercy
Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me.

Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye ;
5 I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors !
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,

More pangs and fears than wars or women have;
10 And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again. —
Enter CROMWELL, amazedly.

Why, how now, Cromwell ?
Crom. I have no power to speak, sir.
15 Wol.

What, amazed At my misfortunes ? Can thy spirit wonder A great man should decline ? Nay, an you weep I am fallen indeed. CROM.

How does your grace ? 20 WOL.

Why, well; Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. I know myself now; and I feel within me A peace above all earthly dignities,

A still and quiet conscience. The king has cured me, — 25 I humbly thank his grace, — and from these shoulders,

These ruined pillars, out of pity, taken
A load would sink a navy—too much honor.
0, 't is a burden, Cromwell, 't is a burden,

Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven 30 CROM. I am glad your grace has made that right use of it

Wol. I hope I have. I am able now, methinks,
(Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,)
To endure more miseries, and greater far,

* That is, the ruin which princes inflict.

Than my weak-hearted enemies dare offer.
What news abroad ?

The heaviest, and the worst,
Is your displeasure with the king.
5 Wol.

God bless him !
Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas More is chosen
Lord chancellor, in your place.

That's somewhat sudden; But he's a learned man. May he continue 10 Long in his highness’s favor, and do justice

For truth's sake, and his conscience; that his bones,
When he has run his course, and sleeps in blessings,
May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on ’em !

What more? 15 Crom. That Cranmer is returned with welcome, Installed lord archbishop of Canterbury.

Wou. That's news, indeed.

Last, that the Lady Anne, a Whom the king hath in secrecy long married, 20 This day was viewed in open, as his queen,

Going to chapel ; and the voice is now
Only about her coronation.
Wol. There was the weight that pulled me down! 0

25 The king has gone beyond me; all my glories

In that one woman I have lost forever.
No sun shall ever usher forth mine honors,
Or gild again the noble troops that waited

Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell; 30 I am a poor, fallen man, unworthy now

To be thy lord and master. Seek the king :
That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him
What, and how true thou art; he will advance thee;
Some little memory of me will stir him

* Anne Boleyn, the second wife of King IIenry VIII

(I know his noble nature) not to let
Thy hopeful service perish too. Good Cromwell,
Neglect him not; make use now, and provide
For thine own future safety.

O my lord,
Must I then leave you ? Must I needs forego
So good, so noble, and so true a master ?
Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron,

With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
10 The king shall have my service; but my prayers
Forever, and forever, shall be yours.

Wol. Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
In all my miserics; but thou hast forced me,

Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.
15 Let's dry our eyes ; and thus far hear me, Cromwell ;

And, — when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
Of me more must be heard of, — say, I taught thee;

Say, Wolsey — that once trod the ways of glory, 20 And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor —

Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in ;
A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it.
Mark but my fall, and that that ruined me.

Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition :
25 By that sin fell the angels: how can man, then,

The image of his Maker, hope to win by 't ?
Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that hate thee ;
Corruption wins not more than honesty:

Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,
30 To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not.

Let all the ends thou aim’st at be thy country's,
Thy God's, and truth's; then, if thou fall’st, ( Cromwell,
Thou fall’st a blessed martyr! Serve the king ;

And — Prithee, lead me in:
35 There take an inventory of all I have,

To the last penny; 't is the king's; my robe,

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