The muskets were flashing, the blue swords were gleaming, When the righteous had fall'n, and the combat was ended, A chariot of fire through the dark cloud descended; Its drivers were angels, on horses of whiteness, A seraph unfolded its doors bright and shining, And the souls that came forth out of great tribulation, On the arch of the rainbow the chariot is gliding, Through the path of the thunder the horsemen are riding; Glide swiftly, bright spirits! the prize is before ye, A crown never fading, a kingdom of glory! IN N the early settlement of Pennsylvania, there arrived, among other emigrants, a poor, pious German family. There were no schools established then, and no public worship on the Sabbath. But the poor man, and all that were within his humble gates, literally rested on that holy day, while he taught them from his German Bible according to the best of his ability. In 1754, the fearful war, commonly called 'the old French war,' broke out between the French and the English. Canada was the seat of the war, as it was the centre of the French power. The Indians were induced to join them, and thus they became a terror to all the frontier settlements. When civilised people make war, they usually spare a conquered foe, and treat him with some degree of kindness; but the savage, as his name imports, is even more so after the battle than while fighting. In this war the Indians used to go, sometimes with the French and sometimes alone, in small parties, and fall upon the defenceless inhabitants, and murder them without mercy; burning their dwellings, and destroying their property. On such an excursion as this, they came across the dwelling of our poor, pious German. Now, although God has promised to watch over His people, and not to let a hair fall from their head without His notice, yet He has nowhere promised to reward them for their piety in this life. He will not offer the poor rewards of time for their service. The father, and his eldest son, and the two girls, named Barbara and Regina, were at home. The mother and one boy had gone to carry some grain to a mill at a distance. On their return, they found the father and the oldest son cruelly murdered, and their E humble dwelling and barn, and all that they had, burned or carried off. The two little girls, too, were carried away; and at night the poor mother had only one little boy left of all her family, and not a shelter for her head. All that she could learn respecting her daughters was, that the Indians had carried them into the wilderness along with many other weeping children. It was never known what became of Barbara, the oldest girl. But Regina, with another sweet little girl, a stranger of two years old, were carried away into the country of the Indians, and given to an old Indian woman. She was very cross and very cruel. Her only son lived with her, and, for the most part, supplied her with food by hunting; but he was frequently gone away for weeks, and then she used to send the little girls alone into the woods to dig roots for her food; and if they failed to procure enough, she beat them fiercely. The little white-haired girl clung to Regina as her only friend; and as Regina had been well taught by her parents, she used often to tell her little friend all she knew about Jesus Christ; and often alone, in the mighty forest, would these two little, apparently forsaken creatures, say over such hymns and texts of Scripture as Regina could recall, and then kneel down and pray to that God who heareth the young ravens when they cry. Nine long years were thus spent in this bondage, till Regina was nineteen years old, and her little friend eleven. In all this time. their hearts seemed to be yearning after what was good. There was one favourite hymn which they often repeated together. In the year 1764, by the good providence of God, Colonel Bouquet, of the English army, came to that part of the country where these captives resided. He conquered the Indians, and compelled them to ask for peace. This he granted, on the condition that all the white prisoners should be given up to him. More than four hundred were brought to the Colonel, and among these the girls whose story I am telling. They were truly wretched objects. He carried them to Carlisle, Pennsylvania, and published in all the newspapers of the State, that all parents who had lost children by the Indians, might come and see if they were among these four hundred captives. What a gathering was there at Carlisle! What multitudes. of fathers and mothers were seen coming with throbbing hearts to see if they could find their long-lost children! Among others came the poor German's widow. She was seen walking up and down among the captives, pale, agitated, and in tears. Now she would stop and gaze at the long-haired, Indian-clad captives, and try to recall the features of her child. But Regina had grown up, was altered, was dressed as an Indian, and neither mother nor daughter knew each other. As the poor mother stood sobbing, the kindhearted Colonel came along, and his heart was touched. 'Is there nothing,' said he, by which your children can be discovered?' 'Oh! sir, nothing-nothing; I can't find either!' 'Is there nothing which you taught them which they might recollect if they heard it?' 'Nothing, sir-nothing; unless it be a hymn which we used to sing with their father.' 'Sing it, sing it,' said the Colonel. The poor woman began: Scarcely had she begun to sing it, ere Regina rushed from the crowd, and joined in singing it, as she used to do when she was a |