The Kalida venture. [volume] (Kalida, Ohio) 1841-1865, 1846-11-12

'SHSO5 tuo SuoiBihx cquhuionS trll ~ last
| that o rampant of dead bodies was soon form
ed around them, Behind this embankment
of dead men and horses, this band Of war
riors stood and fought for six dreadful hours,
land was sill steadily thinning the ranks Of
4 the enemy, when Napoleon debouched with
a single division on Mount Tabor, and turned
his eye below. What scene met his gaze.
The whose plain was filed with charging
squadrons Of widely galloping steeds, while
thesthunder Of cannon and fierce rattle Of
musketry, amidst which now and then was
heard the blast of thousands Of trumpets,
and strains Of martial music, filed the air.
The smoke Of battle was rolling furiousy
over the hosts, and all was confusion and
chaos in his sight. Amid the twenty-scv
thousand Turks that covered the plain, and
enveloped the enemy like cloud, and aim
ed the incessant discharge of artillery and
muskeiry, Napoleon could tell where his
own brave troops wese struggling, by the
steady and simultaneous volley, which
showed where discipline was contending
with the wild vaor ofoverpowerng numbers.
The constant flashes from behind that ram
part Of dead bodies were like spots of flame
on the tumultuous and chaotic field Napo-
icon descended from Mount Tabor with mis-
little band, while single twelve pounder,
fred from the heights, told the weared
Kleber that he was rushing TO the rescue.
Thrown into confusion and trampled under
foot, that mightyvarmy rolled turbulently
back toward the Jordan where Murat was
anxiously waiting TO mingle in the fight
Dasbing with his cavalry among the disor-
dered ranks, he sabred them down without
mercy,and ragged like a lion amid the prey.
The chiyalric and remantic warrior declared
the remembrance Of the scenes that once
transpired on Mount Tabor and on these
thrice consecratsd spots, came to him in the
hottest Of the fight, and nerved him with
ten-fold courage.
As the sun went down over the plains of
Palestine, and twilight shed its dim rays
over the rent and trodden and dead-coyered
field, a suphurons cloud hung around the
summit Of Mount Tabor. The smoke of
battle hadse,iled there where once the cloud
of glory rested, while groans and shreks
rent the air. Nazareth, Jordan, and Mount
Tabor! What spots for battle-6elds!
Roll back twenty centuries, and again
view thai hill. The day is bright and beau
tiful as then, and the same rich oriental
landscape is smiling in the esame sun. There
IS Nazareth with its busy population-and
the same Nazareth, from which Kleber march
ed his army and there is Jordan rolling IFS
bright waters along---the same Jordan along
whose banks charged the glittering squadrons
Of Murat's cavalry; and there is Mount
Tabor-the same on which Bonaparte stood
with his cannon, and the same beautiful plain
where rolled the smoke Of battle, and strug-
gled thirty -tko2sand men in mortal combat.
But how different is the scene thar rs feass-
| ing there! The Son Of God stands on that
height, and casts his eye over the quiet val
lev through which Jordan winds its silver cur
rent. Three friends are beside Him. They
have walked together up the tolls ONE way,
and now the four stand, mere specks on the
distant summit, But the glorious landscape
at their feet is forgotten in sublimer scene
that is passing before them. The Son of
Mary-the carpenter Of Nazareia--the wan
derer with when they have ate and drank
and travelled on foot many weary league,
in all the intimacy Of companions and friends,
began to change before their eyes. Over
his soiied and coarse garments is spread al
strange light, steadily Frightening to intenser
beauty, till that form glows with such splen !
dor that it seems TO wayer to and fro and
dissolve in the still radiance The three as
tonshed friends gaze in breathless admira-
ton, and then turn 10 that familiar face.
But 10! greater change has passed overit.
The man has put on the God, and that sad
and solemn face that has been so often
STOPPING rthe couch of the dying, and
entering the door Of the hut of poverty, in
the streets Of Jerusalem, and by the weary
waysde---aye, bedewed with the tears Of
pity, now burns like the sun in midday
splendor. Meekness. has given way to Ma