Page images


'Tis to have
Attentive and believing faculties;
To go abroad rejoicing in the joy
Of beautiful and well-created things;
To love the voice of waters, and the sheen
Of silver fountains leaping to the sea :
To thrill with the rich melody of birds,
Living their life of music; to be glad
In the gay sunshine, reverent in the storm ;
To see a beauty in the stirring leaf,
And find calm thoughts beneath the whispering tree;
To see, and hear, and breathe the evidence
Of God's deep wisdom in the natural world :
It is to love all virtue for itself,
All nature for its breathing evidence;
And when the eye hath seen, and when the ear
Hath heard the glorious harmonies around-
It is to humble the imperfect mind,
And lean the broken spirit upon God ! N. P. WILLIS.


A YOUNG MAN'S CHARACTER. It is of incalculable worth to a young man to have a pure mind; for this is the foundation of a good character. The mind, in order to be kept pure, must be employed on topics of thought, which are themselves lovely, chaste and elevating. "It has the power to select its own themes for meditation. If the young only knew how durable and how dismal is the injury produced by the indulgence of degrading thoughts; if they only realised how frightful are the moral depravities which a cherished habit of loose imagination produces on the soul, they would shun them as the bite of a serpent. The power of books to excite the imagination, is a subject that cannot be too much considered.

The cultivation of an amiable, elevated, and glowing heart, alive to all the beauties of nature, all the sublimities of truth, invigorates the intellect, and renders the will independent of all base passions. It gives also to the affections that power of adhesion to whatever is pure, good, great, and best adapted to lead out the whole nature of man into those scenes of action and impression by which its energies may be most appropriately employed, and by which its high destination may be most effectually reached.

The opportunities for exciting these faculties in benevolent and self-denying efforts for the welfare of our fellow men are so many and great that it really is a great privilege to live. The heart which is truly benevolent, may luxuriate in an age like this. The Divine promises are inexpressibly rich, the main tendencies of things so manifestly in accordance with them, the extent of moral influence is so great, and the effect of its employment so visible, that whoever aspires after benevolent action, and reaches forth to the true dignity of his nature, can find free scope for his intellect, and allinspiring themes for his heart.


Tell me not in mournful numbers

“Life is but an empty dream !” For the soul is dead that slumbers,

And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest,

And the grave is not its goal; “Dust thou art, to dust returnest,”

Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each to-morrow

Finds us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,

And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums are beating Funeral marches to the grave.

[blocks in formation]

Ages have rolled their course, and time grown gray;
The earth has gathered to herself again,
And yet again, the myriads that were born
Of her uncounted, unremembered tribes.
The seas have changed their beds—the external hills
Have stooped with age—the solid continents
Have left their banks—and man's imperial works-
The toil, pride, strength of kingdoms, which had flung
Their haughty honours in the face of heaven,
As if immortal-have been swept away,
Shattered and mouldering, buried and forgot.
But time has shed no dimness on thy front,
Nor touched the firmness of thy tread: youth, strength,
And beauty still are thine-as clear, as bright,
As when the Almighty Former sent thee forth,
Beautiful offspring of his wondrous skill,
To watch earth's northern beacon, and proclaim
The eternal chorus of immortal Love.


The cloud-capp'd towers—the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples-the great globe itself-
Yea, all which it inherit shall dissolve,
And-like the baseless fabric of a vision
Leave not a wreck behind.


What does not fade? The tower that long had stood
The crash of thunder, and the warring winds-
Worn by the slow but sure destroyer,

Now hangs in doubtful ruins o’er its base.
Even pyramids and walls of Aint descend :
The granite hills and rock-bound coasts decay.
Time shakes the stable tyranny of thrones;.
And tottering empires fall by their own weight. Young.

Life's mystery-deep, restless as the ocean-

Hath surged and wailed for ages to and fro;
Earth's generations watch its ceaseless motion,

As in and out its hollow moanings flow;
Shivering and yearning by that unknown sea,
Let my soul calm itself, o God, in Thee !
Life's sorrows, with inexorable power,

Sweep desolation o’er this mortal plain;
And human loves and hopes fly as the chaff

Borne by the whirlwind from the ripened grain ;
Ah, when before that blast my hopes all flee,
May my sad soul in prayer ascend to Thee.

Between the mysteries of death and life

Thou standest, loving, guiding,—not explaining; We ask, and Thou art silent-yet we gaze,

And our charmed hearts forget their drear complaining ! No crushing fate-no stony destiny ! O God revealed in Christ, we rest in Thee ! The many waves of thought, the mighty tides,

The ground-swell that rolís up from other lands,
From far of worlds, from dim eternal shores,

Whose echo dashes on life's wave-worn strands,-
This vague dark tumult of the inner sea
Grows calm, Almighty, when we trust in Thee !

MRS. H. B. STOWE.-Adap.

Courage, brother! do not stumble,

Though thy path is dark as night;
There's a star to guide the humble-

Trust in God and do the right.
Let the road be long and dreary,

And its ending out of sight;
Foot it bravely-strong or weary,

Trust in God and do the right.
Perish “policy" and cunning,

Perish all that fears the light;
Whether losing, whether winning,

Trust in God and do the right.
Trust no party, church, or faction;

Trust no “ leaders” in the fight;
But in every word and action

Trust in God and do the right.
Trust no forms of guilty passion,

Fiends can look like angels bright:
Trust no custom, school, or fashion,

Trust in God and do the right.
Some will hate thee, some will love thee,

Some will flatter, some will slight;
Cease from man, and look above thee,

Trust in God and do the right.
Unfailing rule for our safe guiding,

For true peace and inward light;
A star upon our path abiding,


What shall I do lest life in silence pass ?

And if it do,
And never prompt the bray of noisy brass ;

What need'st thou rue?
Ever note how the Ocean deeps are mute;

How shallows roar;
Worth is the Ocean-Fame is but the bruit

Along the shore.
What shall I do to be for ever known ?

Thy duty ever.
This did full many who yet sleep unknown- ,,

Oh! never, never !
Think'st thou, perchance, that they remain unknown

Whom thou know'st not?
By angel-songs in heaven their praise is shown

Divine their lot.
What shall I do to gain eternal life?

Discharge aright
The simple dues with which each day is rife;

Yea, with thy might.
Ere perfect scheme of action thou devise

Will life be fled,
While he, who ever acts as conscience cries,

Shall live, though dead.


All that the past hath taught
Its prophets preaching a sublimer lore;
Its god-like poets heaping the bright ore

From the rich mines of thought;
And high-sould men, who, in that darkened age,
Dared in the cause of truth to breast its rage;

All that now lures us on,
Pointing afar, where glory waits our call,
Speaks to the soul, that when its clay shall fall,

A nobler, brighter dawn
Shall beam around its steps, before untrod,
Where with strong wing it sweeps still nearer God !

Darkness surrounds the grave;
And to the blind and erring, doubt and fear;
But the high hopes that light our pathway here

Stream o'er the cloud-hung wave;
And show beyond a more congenial clime,
Where the soul's lofty power prevails o’er Death and Time !


« PreviousContinue »