and night for the revival of God's work, exclaiming, || a suffering witness for Jesus. What will be the O, that the salvation of Israel were come out of Zion! mode or amount of her sufferings we cannot well And this is emphatically woman's sphere. Does she determine. Scorn and derision from her foes, and ask what she can do for Zion? I answer, pray. Pray treachery from her friends, will greatly annoy and as Abraham did for Sodom, (and with more persever-waste her. Her enemies have scarcely yet commenced ance.) Do this and you shall stand in the front of bat- their assaults. The Church has done little to provoke tle. The invincibles in Immanuel's army are those derision. She is now so like the world, that the world, who, with uplifted weapons, receive the enemy on their which loves its own, can tolerate her with great comknees. Woe to them who make an onset in this direc- fort. When her example becomes reproving, and the tion. They will meet the captain of the Lord's host, world is frowned from her fellowships, we shall see a and will be scattered like chaff before the wind. change. Then men will be provoked to ancient proofs of the malignant wickedness of the heart. It will then be seen that God and his Son are not less abhorred than when Noah built the ark, and Christ was "crucified and slain." And when the whole Church awakes to prayerwhen each of her members thirsts after God, and weeps day and night for perishing sinners, the world will be moved. A heavenly power will descend and sway the minds of its perishing millions, and like the multitudes on the day of Pentecost, these millions will exclaim with one voice, "Men and brethren, what shall we do?" But the severest sufferings of the Church will flow from direct and cruel persecution. Let none suppose for a moment that no more trials of this sort await us. Look for sanguinary scenes. The spirit of past ages is rolling back upon us, and already we can see the swell and hear the surge. Zion has endured sharp conflicts, and has won hard-fought fields. In certain periods of her militant career, she has been bold and faithful. Sometimes she might have been addressed, "Servant of God, well done; well hast thou fought!" But to her it cannot be said, as to Abdiel "The easier conquest now remains to thee." Like Satan and his discomfited legions, after the first day's onset, her enemies have invented new weapons of war, and "Not distant far, with heavy pace, the foe Approaching gross and huge," But the Church must be a laboring witness for God. She must no longer busy herself about the world. She must turn her energies into another channel. Her enterprise must be directed towards the relief of the spiritual, not merely the temporal wants of our nature. She must evidence that her treasure is truly in heaven, and that her business is to accumulate riches there. She must prosecute her work of saving souls with a zeal proportionate to her avowed estimate of the value of the soul. She is, even now, a busy Church. What a bustling scene does she present to the observer! But what is she doing? Buying and selling, and getting gain-hoarding up silver and gold, and lavishing both in extravagant outlays for sumptuous dwellings and prideful display. The disciple of Jesus, with successful emulation, rivals the vainest and most profligate of the world; and from their manner and apparel, who can distinguish the Church from the world-the modest bride of Christ from the bold and flaunting harlot? O, what a stripping of herself will there be from the disguises she hath so long worn! What a putting off of pride and its coverings-what aversions from sin and its indulgences-what a dressing of herself in the decent attire of a humble, laboring, blood-bought Church, whose business it is to In conclusion, if all the Church were to assume the come out from the world, and bring the world out from attitude of a praying, laboring, suffering witness for itself to serve the living God. The hour is at hand Jesus, we need not look far forward to the millenium. when prince and princess will turn exhorters in the We should suddenly find ourselves making our triumcause of God, and the saloons of the palace will wit-phant entrance upon its opening scenes of light and ness the birth and halleluiahs of converts to righteous- joy. ness. And why not now? Why not enter at once on the blessed avocations of pity and charity? Why not, today, commence the labors which are to bless the perishing nations with a millenium? Let the reader and the writer make two of the number who shall toil henceforth to millenialize the world. Let us, in this holy cause, do what our hands-our lips-find to do, with our might. We may stir up others to join us in these labors. It may expose us to some reproach; but Jesus will not frown-it may cost us sufferings; but we should remember that the Church must also become trains his infernal enginery, compasses the camp of the saints about, and is waiting to lay waste the beloved city. Our business should be to prepare to witness for Jesus by meek and patient suffering. The approaching conflict will call for the exercise of all the passive virtues. True, we must remit no holy enterprise. Our missions must be sustained, our revivals encouraged, our benevolent associations all cherished and multiplied a thousand fold; but while we act, we must also be ready to die for Jesus. SOME well meaning Christians tremble for their salvation, because they have never gone through a val ley of tears and sorrow to arrive at regeneration: to satisfy such minds, it may be observed, that the slightest sorrow for sin is sufficient, if it produce amendment, and that the greatest is insufficient if it do not. Therefore, by their own fruits let them prove themselves; for some soils will take the good seed, without being watered by tears, or harrowed up by afflic tion. Original. "LET WELL ALONE." "LET WELL ALONE." "LET well alone," is one of those wise old saws which, in all of its homeliness, has-upon the authority of our grand-mothers-come down to us from time immemorial; and it is still just as apt of admonition as ever it was; for it suits to a fashion which never changes, but is perpetuated to all the races and all the generations of men; namely, the fashion of being not quite satisfied with their present condition-by which we mean to say, with the circumstances by which they are surrounded; for, alas! the self-conceit and pride of man would fain persuade him that all within is just as it should be. And whilst God is supplying to him, in greater or less measure, those things which he needs, the devil, abetting his ingratitude, is marring his content, and instigating him to "comparisons" which "are odious," and also idle; and because he possesses not all that his inordinate desires would claim, moving him to "a change." And herein may we see, even in connection with the act, its necessary punishment. We would speak in regard to the affairs of business. Looking about the world, hither and thither, do we not see that all who, in their beginnings, despise "the day of small things," and in their thankless impatience give up a certainty for a "speculation," almost invariably injure themselves; and continuing to pluck on from bad to worse, they finally end in total bankruptcy. The young are deceived in this matter. They believe, if their affairs are not in a very prosperous train, that by effecting a change they are only exerting a proper spirit-the energy of their time of life-and that they were rather blame-worthy to abide in small profits, when, by "enterprise," they may become rich at once. And, indeed, there is very much to be said in extenuation of the young upon this subject; for all the tendencies of the age are to extremes, alias, to bankruptcy. And this sin rests upon the thousands of "bold bad men" of mature life, who, having squandered their means, perhaps the patrimony of pains-taking fathers, and impatient of industry, and having nothing to lose, dash into some "brilliant speculation," and, possibly, by swindling all whom they have involved in the scheme, come out themselves rich. Yet no less for that are they swindlers. Yet what recks it-whilst they feast their friends-whilst they open the house of hospitality, and are liberal to popular purposes, giving back a farthing upon a thousand dollars-they are still accredited. Is not such an one a "noble fellow," "whole hearted," one that "knows how to give!" "he never grudges a penny," not he! &c. But why do persons not discriminate character more than they do? Why do they receive, upon the word of others, what it concerns themselves to know for themselves? namely, the moralities, at least the honesty of their associates! Is there not an extreme meanness, too, in participating the luxuries procured by these persons? No doubt of that; but "many a one does it," and "what all the world does must be right." The latter 5 aphorism probably originated as touching some mere Worse than But to keep more near to our subject. this, the holder of moneys, so procured, is said, in merchant's phrase, to "have effected a vast amount of -to be "a man of a thousand," business"-to "be a very smart man"-to have "raised himself from poverty"and many more such striking eulogisms are bestowed upon him who has in truth only "become rich too fast." That he is denounced in the text is never applied to him; for he is tried mostly by his fellows, and they never meddle with such things. Now is not all this calculated to confuse the youth just assuming business? It does more than that-it confuses in the principle and it leads in the practice. And if such an one shall be his exemplar, being not as expert as his master, he will probably often change his business, and that to its necessary issue, of a losing result. But who is to blame? Every father is to blame if he do not, early and late, time and again, hold such characters up to the detestation of his growing sons. Let them, by time and example, "here a little and there a little," point the morality of shunning them. Let them keep them out of their company, and out of the company of their sons until it is impossible that they shall swerve into any sort of liking for them or their ways; and at the same time that they inculcate moderation and patience in acquiring, point them to the possible sources of a livelihood by these methods; and more than all, put them early enough to business-initiate them, and it can be done little by little only. A boy already of seventeen or eighteen years, if he have been put to no duties, has had no training, is totally hopeless of any resource within himself. He feels as if the thing were impossible. He is timid, and awkward, and discouraged. You wonder at this, for perhaps your son has been accounted more than ordinarily apt, and yet simpler boys have got the start of him here. But you do not wonder, when you see the youth of sixteen or seventeen years, who, for the first time in his life, mounts a horse-you do not wonder that he cannot ride; for you well know it is because he has not been trained to it. You know that if a father wishes his son to become a good horseman, he practices him from the time almost that he can hold a bridle; and you know then it is almost a matter of course that he becomes an adept in riding, feels assured 3 6 "LET WELL ALONE." reader-the private scholar; but scholarship is an employment, and that shall itself save from squandering. But all will concur with us in the position that most men either gain or lose money as a characteristic trait. And this latter evil is what we deprecate; for how great an evil the want of money is! It is not in one sense alone that the moneyed man is said to be "independent." His character, in the collision of life, cannot have play, unless he can "afford" that it should. We do not refer to any sinister purposes; but he will be repudiated of his very virtues if he is poorer than his asso and at ease, is competent to any little emergency that || number do—such, perhaps, as are of low and unexcimay occur, and can manage the horse to his use. He table temperament-or some few philosophers-or the is the master of the horse, not the horse of him. At this you do not wonder; yet in a matter a thousand times more complex, engrossing mind and character, and requiring every form of attention, you think it possible to succeed without practice. But not so. As the youth who has grown to manhood without ever having managed a horse, will never become an accomplished horseman will never be "handy" at it, so neither will the youth without training be competent to businessnever apprehend the thousand minute duties and observances, not of performance alone, but of time, and place, and opportunity, and of exigency and retrieve-ciates; and he will conceive all those disgusts at the Yet that such an one can never in his life become an expert man of business you do not calculate! But so it is. His activity has run to waste, or has run another course-his thoughts and tastes have been engrossed in other objects until they lead him. And if duty or necessity now compels a course of business, it, is with no small difficulty and an almost irrepressible distaste that he sets about it, burdened as he is with a double task; for he must disembarrass himself of old habits before he can institute new ones. And if he have no inheritance, he feels as if he had rather shuffle through the world without property, than endure what seems to him the drudgery of working for it. ment. And such is the origin of many an unhappy and despicable loafer! Yet how easy and sweet is the progress of the young boy who is trained betimes to his occupation. It seems as simple to him as going up the stairs; and having his energies engrossed, and his wishes stayed, he is happy in that self-respect which, however young, he naturally craves. And the parent who does thus much for his children does more for them, and they are taught to rest in their piety, and to that also do they refer their duties. The world at large look on and deem that family of children to be most felicitously situated who are born to an ample fortune, and that, too, even when the father, confiding in money alone, leaves them unprovided with the knowledge and the method of retaining it. Yet the frugal parent with moderate means, or indeed one destitute of money, who yet puts his sons betimes into the methods of procuring it, does for them much more than the other, with however large a fortune, can possibly do for his with a bequest alone. In the one instance, the heir is possessed alone of that which, to a proverb, "takes to itself wings and flies away;" to say nothing of all the deteriorating influences to which, in idle hands, it ministers; whilst the other "portionless" boy, as he is called, is initiated into methods of creating supplies which the other only knows how to squander; and this ability is an unalienable possession. So that, rationally speaking, the condition of the two can never be compared-the one having, in the passage of life, so incomparably the advantage of the other—and he is the one who works for himself. We do not assert that no heir, who enhances not his inheritance, yet preserves it unimpaired. Some small world's injustice, which not his self-love alone but even truth revolts at. It is indeed a most inconvenient thing to be poor. But to return to our subject, i. e., the changing of business. We ought to say that the being competent, and betimes versed in any pursuit, is a greater safeguard against this evil. The notion of change is probably more often suggested by the uneasiness of not knowing how to manage the present concern than from any other cause. Some indeed there are of so roving and vagrant a temper that they must carry their love of novelty even into their business. And they are of those of whom it is said that "they have tried a good many different things," but "they don't seem to get along with any." And so it is. In wishing to change they should reflect that the object looked to may, on acquaintance, prove as unsatisfying as that in possession, with the disadvantage and loss attendant on a breaking up of the old, and the outlay for new arrangements. And more than the loss of customers and clients is the breakup of confidence as to the stability and soundness of character in him who so acts. In contemplating a change-a new plan of life-whatever else may be the calculations, it is generally overlooked that we are so strongly attracted to the points which strike our regard, that we leave quite out of view the contingent disadvantages which belong to it, to say nothing of all the concomitant annoyances which complete the picture. That these latter belong to every state of life we acknowledge; yet it is much easier to cope with the evils and the disagreeables to which we are accustomed, than to "flce to others which we know not of." And this tendency calls for the restraining and coercive hand of the guardian, or the parent, from earliest life. The parent remaining is, perhaps, the widowed mother; and to her we would commend vigilance, decision, and promptness in placing her sons "soon enough" to business. We are aware that in the early season of bereavement she has little heart for performances of this sort, and that her affection, particularly at this time, may betray her into a laxity of discipline which her judgment would contemn. Yet she cannot too soon say to herself whether her sons are or are not to be trained to business; and postponement neither changes the nature of the regulation nor abates its difficulties. Its difficulties, perhaps, are only of the unconsenting CHRISTIANITY AND WOMAN. 7 child, loth and ignorant of his own good, and timid || constitute the source of all moral evil. Though man and apprehensive because of his inexperience. This has thus fallen, he remains a rational being; and as such, he is still a subject of moral government. In no part of society does Christianity exert a more benign influence than over woman. It not only elevates her to her proper sphere, and secures to her respect, but also opens a wide field for the exercise of those peculiar virtues which, under the influence of a pure religion, become so brilliant and alluring in her character. When controlled by ardent piety, the retired walks of domestic life are enlivened by her cheerfulness, and render Her attentions mitigate, in a thousand forms, the lot of suffering humanity-soothe the pains of sickness and the anguish of death. In no situation is she destitute of means for winning souls to Christ; while her noble energies, combined with prudence, find ample scope in impressing character on the youthful mind, and in appropriately training the immortal spirit for its present vocations, and its future destiny. is transiently painful. But what earthly advantage have we without its trial and its tax? The child may work, too, with his hands-the "manual labor schools" and the "lyceums" are rife about the country; and the beautiful expanse from the Valley of the Mississippi to the Pacific Ocean, affords its thousand sites to allure and to reward the farmer-the happy, healthy, respectable farmer. From that occupation, at least, there is very little danger of changing; for we apprehend that the sentiment of the son of nature, fresh from the cam-ed attractive by the influence of her devotedness to God. paign, in first threading the mazes of a city, is, "what insanity possessed the people that crowd their dwellings into the nooks and cranies of a city, when the open fields are in sight!" And his is a genuine taste. Appropos of work. It is now an idea, subscribed to by many, that they do not deem it a good to leave their sons a fortune; for, say they, "let them go to work and get one for themselves," then "they will know how to value it." This is excellent; yet amongst the many who say it, but few act on the principle further than to spend more freely themselves, without putting their sons in the way to obtain it; so that, with this superconsiderateness, they neither leave their children a fortune, nor aid them in procuring one. And we should deem the "reformed method" rather as squinting to the selfishness of the father, than as revealing benefit to his children. But not to fatigue our reader with too much digression we will close; and as we commenced with one excellent old proverb, so, as a sort of corollary to it, we will finish with another; namely, "Seek rather to improve the business you are in, than to endeavor after a new one." PHILANTHROPOS. Original. When we regard Christianity not only as designed to be enjoyed, and to be practiced in order to its enjoyment, but also as the means of staying the desolations of sin, and of saving souls from death, how natural that its principles should receive the countenance and aid of woman! Accordingly, woman has been its warmest advocate. One has well remarked, that "were the Christian religion to be banished from the earth, its last altar would be the female heart." "Woman was last at the cross and first at the sepulchre, last at the burial and first to look on the risen Jesus." The cross of Christ is lifted up to the sight, that all might look and believe; but woman particularly should clasp and hold it as with a death grasp; for has not Christianity been the triumph of woman? It came to bring into notice a class of virtues, that man, in the pride of his heart, despised as womanly. It proclaims God's approbation of those virtues, and shows that they do not spring up spontaneously, nor grow in the unregenerated heart. CHRISTIANITY AND WOMAN. THE propagation of Christianity is the most important work which can engage the attention of mankind. The rise, progress, and downfall of empires-the lives In almost every country, particularly in the eastern of philosophers and of princes may furnish useful and world, woman has her certain place. She has to perinteresting materials for thought and reflection, but form offices of hardship and servitude repugnant to her nothing is so momentous as the diffusion of the light very nature. In Austria we see her making mortar, of the Gospel. It is this which brings to nations sit- digging cellars, and wheeling out the clay; and there, ting in darkness and in the shadow of death the knowl- too, we see her harnessed with cattle to a plough, while edge of salvation; and it bears this knowledge from her husband may apply the lash equally to both. She the Source of infinite wisdom and goodness. No re- saws and splits wood, drags coal about the streets, and sources of nature have ever been found sufficient to wheels such loads to market as, in our country, would impart this knowledge. In vain do we look for it in||be considered a heavy task for beasts of burden. In the most profound lessons of philosophy. Science, in|| Asia, in regions smiling with the ceaseless verdure of all ages, without a divine revelation, has left man where the tropics, she is doomed to toil, unprotected from the it found him-"dead in trespasses and sins." sun, and is regarded by her master as destitute of a soul. But it is not necessary to enlarge. The sad story of woman's wrongs where the true God is not worshiped ought to be familiar to all. To those who live in this enlightened land-whose lines have fallen to them in such pleasant places-it should be an occasion of gratitude that the cause of female education is rapidly progressing. Here the sentiment of community The human family has fallen from innocence and rectitude, and in its fall has contracted blindness in the understanding, aversion from God in the affections, and stubbornness and opposition of will to all spiritual good; and these disordered powers, by exerting their corresponding influences upon the soul, bring it into sinful subjection as by the force of an invincible law, and 8 THE VALUE OF SPEECH. abhors the doctrine of woman's mental inferiority. Here Christianity, to which we owe the most common privileges of our being, is offering to our sex the means of boundless improvement. We are incited, by every consideration of gratitude, as well as of self-respect, to urge on with vigor our course of preparation for the high and responsible duties of this life, through which we may be enabled, in the highest degree, to promote the happiness of man in the world to come. Original. H. G. THE VALUE OF SPEECH. On culture and the sowing of the soil. Words learned by rote a parrot may rehearse But talking is not always to converse." of our female seminaries, that, instead of one of the And believing this, I would suggest to the teachers various " 'ologies" now pursued as studies by young ladies, this more important one should be introduced. already advanced so far in the practical part of the subI think teachers would find apt scholars. Many have ject that I think they would be well qualified to afford assistance in the instruction of others. Let a class be organized, and a circle formed. The teacher might commence by introducing some interesting topic; and after giving his own opinions, might politely invite each one of the class to favor the company with her in-views on the subject. If the theme were one at all calculated to excite the feelings, or one upon which there was a diversity of opinion, I think we should soon ascertain that most young ladies (how taciturn soever they may usually appear) only want an occasion to develop their powers of elocution. We should, no doubt, be astonished at the sage and pithy remarks, the profound observations, the brilliant figures, the lively sallies of wit, that would flow in a continuous strain from lips that hitherto had always been sealed. It is a duty incumbent upon all to improve this faculty-one of the most wonderful that God has bestowed upon man-one that is his peculiar characteristic. We should endeavor to provoke the dormant powers of speech in our friends and acquaintances. How often do we see verified the description of the poet SPEECH is a rich blessing. We were not made telligent that we might shut up thought within ourselves; but to give it a voice, and exchange it for others' thoughts. Our power over others lies not in the amount of thought within us, but in the power of bringing out what we possess. A person of more than ordinary intellectual vigor may be a cypher in society, wanting skill in the use of language, or a proper and graceful mode of expression. Not only do we influence the minds of others, but we greatly aid our own intellect by giving distinct and forcible utterance to our conceptions. We understand ourselves better-our own ideas grow clearer by the very effort to make them clear to others. Our social rank, too, depends greatly on our conversational powers. The principal distinction between those who are called gentlemen, and the vulgar, lies in this: the vulgar are awkward in manners, and are essentially wanting in propriety, clearness, and force of expression. Persons who never open their lips without violating some rule in syntax, or who are unable to address us without darkening their meaning by a confused, unskillful mode of communication, cannot take the place to which their natural good sense entitles them. To have agreeable intercourse with the intelligent, we must speak their language, and be able to communicate as well as to receive instruction. The pleasure and profit of social intercourse depend almost entirely on our colloquial talents. Thoughts are communicated, sympathies exchanged, joys and sorrows made known through the medium of language; and without this faculty we should be but little removed from the brute creation. Wit sharpens wit, thought produces thought. Our knowledge is increased in an animated conversation. Powers, which we were unconscious of possessing, are developed in conversation, and often we wonder at our own amount of information. This faculty, then, is given us for improvement, and will tend as much as the exercise of any other faculty to raise us to that elevated sphere in the scale of being for which we were designed by our Creator. Conversation may be studied as a science, or practiced as an art. Cowper says "Though conversation, in its better part, "The circle formed, we sit in silent state, Like figures drawn upon a dial plate." But let these humble suggestions become practical, and the silence and reserve of the social circle, so finely depicted in this quotation, would soon disappear. Friends would rejoice in a perfect understanding of each other's feelings and sentiments-intellectual intercourse would lose its cold and unsocial formality; and in the vivacity and cheerfulness that would characterize our fire-sides we should realize the feast of reason and the flow of soul. PUELLA. Original. AN ACROSTIC. M. DE FOREST. |