Against the walls of the church of the village of Waterloo are many beautiful marble tablets, with the most affecting inscriptions, records of men of various countries, who expired on that solemn and memorable occasion in supporting a common cause. Many of these brave men were buried in a cemetery at a short distance from the village. [Illustration: FIELD OF WATERLOO] * * * * * THE TWO OWLS AND THE SPARROW. [Illustration: Letter T.] Two formal Owls together sat, Conferring thus in solemn chat: "How is the modern taste decay'd! Where's the respect to wisdom paid? Our worth the Grecian sages knew; They gave our sires the honour due: They weigh'd the dignity of fowls, And pry'd into the depth of Owls. Athens, the seat of earned fame, With gen'ral voice revered our name; On merit title was conferr'd, And all adored th' Athenian bird." "Brother, you reason well," replies The solemn mate, with half-shut eyes: "Right: Athens was the seat of learning, And truly wisdom is discerning. Besides, on Pallas' helm we sit, The type and ornament of wit: But now, alas! we're quite neglected, And a pert Sparrow's more respected." A Sparrow, who was lodged beside, O'erhears them sooth each other's pride. [Illustration] And thus he nimbly vents his heat: "Who meets a fool must find conceit. I grant you were at Athens graced, And on Minerva's helm were placed; But ev'ry bird that wings the sky, Except an Owl, can tell you why. From hence they taught their schools to know How false we judge by outward show; That we should never looks esteem, Since fools as wise as you might seem. Would you contempt and scorn avoid, Let your vain-glory be destroy'd: Humble your arrogance of thought, Pursue the ways by Nature taught: So shall you find delicious fare, And grateful farmers praise your care; So shall sleek mice your chase reward, And no keen cat find more regard." GAY. * * * * * THE BEETLE. See the beetle that crawls in your way, And runs to escape from your feet; His house is a hole in the clay, And the bright morning dew is his meat. But if you more closely behold This insect you think is so mean, You will find him all spangled with gold, And shining with crimson and green. Tho' the peacock's bright plumage we prize, As he spreads out his tail to the sun, The beetle we should not despise, Nor over him carelessly run. They both the same Maker declare-- They both the same wisdom display, The same beauties in common they share-- Both are equally happy and gay. And remember that while you would fear The beautiful peacock to kill, You would tread on the poor beetle here, And think you were doing no ill.