Imagination cannot conceive a scene more dreadful than that presented by
the devoted city of Antioch on that night of horror. The Crusaders
fought with a blind fury, which fanaticism and suffering alike incited.
Men, women, and children were indiscriminately slaughtered, till the
streets ran in gore. Darkness increased the destruction; for, when the
morning dawned the Crusaders found themselves with their swords at the
breasts of their fellow-soldiers, whom they had mistaken to be foes. The
Turkish commander fled, first to the citadel, and, that becoming
insecure, to the mountains, whither he was pursued and slain, and his
gory head brought back to Antioch as a trophy. At daylight the massacre
ceased, and the Crusaders gave themselves up to plunder.
_Popular Delusions_.
* * * * *
ANGLING.
[Illustration: Letter G.]
Go, take thine angle, and with practised line,
Light as the gossamer, the current sweep;
And if thou failest in the calm, still deep,
In the rough eddy may a prize be thine.
Say thou'rt unlucky where the sunbeams shine;
Beneath the shadow where the waters creep
Perchance the monarch of the brook shall leap--
For Fate is ever better than Design.
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