1857.]

My Pilgrim's Pouch.

113

them played pieces on the piano with the skill and accuracy of a grown man. Then they have a large weaving room, shoemakers' and tailors' room, and large school-rooms for the children.

One pleasant day last week, that is, a day which had several hours of clear weather, we went to Camaldolio, a high mountain about seven or eight miles from our hotel. From its pure heights we looked down upon the immense city-containing over 400,000 inhabitants and a number of towns joining it as large as Lancaster-and the Bay of Naples running its large prongs into it; large plains covered with villages, vineyards, and volcanoes whose chimneys once vomited up fiery fluid rocks. A Benedictine convent stands on the top. One of the friars took us through one of the little cottages where the monks live. It was a small one-story building about fifteen feet square. Before the door stood a large orange-tree, bending down with a heavy harvest of ripe fruit. The monk seeing that I was pleased with them, told me to pick one off, which tasted as good as it looked. Oranges grow so abundantly here that one can buy them cheaper than apples. They sell them at one cent for three, and by the gross perhaps at half that price. The weather is warmer here than it was at Rome; but the winter of Naples always abounds with rains. This has been the first clear day we have had for a week, and this closed with dark, lowering clouds.

On Saturday we made an excursion along the sea-shore, examining ruins and other relics of the ancients. Suddenly a squale of rain blew over us, carrying my hat towards the sea. When I tried to put it on again the wind blew so hard that I could not keep it on with both hands. So I had to push my way through the rain and storm for a short distance bare-headed. You may well imagine how awkward and earnest I looked. In the meanwhile it grew dark, and as we had three or four miles to reach home, we took a cab along the way. It was down hill to Naples. The fellow drove at full speed, all the while singing his Italian ditties through the storm and rain. Just as we reached our hotel another cabman tried to drive around him, when he gave his horse the whip, and dashed us off again in spite of my shouting to him, and only when I caught hold of the lines could I get him to stop.

The weather here seems to be growing milder every day. We were on Mount Vesuvius to-day, on the top of which the snow is several feet deep. I will tell you something more about this safety valve of our burning world, through the "Messenger." I will only tell you now that it was a pleasant excursion, and that an active volcano, blasting into the air, melted fiery masses of rock and lava, is, next to Niagara, the grandest sight I ever saw.

Yesterday, the 5th, we made a long excursion along the Bay of Naples and to the Island of Caprae. The man that took us to the depot demanded more than we had agreed to pay. When we refused to give him more he flew into a furor of rage and fisted about the leader of our party. One of the police caught him by the throat and jagged a cane into his belly, which would have killed him if it had been a sword. When we got off the cars we were surrounded by a crowd of cabmen and guides, each trying to outery the other, which made an almost deafening noise. The Italians are given to this sort of bellowing confusion.

Sometimes in ordinary conversation they fist and fuss with hand and voice, so as to make a stranger fear they are coming to blows.

Riding along the bay we came to a place where a large part of the mountain had slid down over the road. We took a boat and rode around it. While in the boat, another large rock broke loose about five hundred feet above us. It leaped from crag to crag, breaking and puffing with smoke, as if every piece had been charged with powder, and cracking in quick, broken claps, as if a dozen thunder storms had met. Beyond this we took another carriage and rode along the mountain, many hundred feet above the sea, through large olive fields and orange gardens, where ripe oranges hang in thick bunches. At Sorrento we hired a boat, about four times as large as yours in the Conestoga, with two small sails, to take us to Caprae, about ten miles distant. Four stout Italians rowed us away from shore, and soon a slight breeze filled our small sails, and our little craft rode over the waves like a swan. But here a jumping motion soon obliged me to give my dinner to the sea. When we reached Caprae we were all sick enough not to care anything about what was there. We concluded to enter a famous cave, that our expedition would not be entirely in vain. We entered a small boat and passed through an opening about two or three high into the cave, but the hole was so low that we had to lie down into the bottom of the boat. The waters within were of a clear, milky-blue color. The gorgeous colors on the ceiling we could not see, either because the sun did not shine without, or we were unfit to see them from our seasickness. The cave is from fifty to one hundred feet in diameter, and in a clear day is said to be one of the grandest sights in this part of the world. The swelling waves almost shut up the door, and we began to think of our dilemma if the sea should lock us in.

We kept our boat to sail directly to Naples, a distance of twenty miles further, which we made in three hours. After I wrapped my cloak around me, and laid me quietly into the bottom of the boat, I felt relieved. But the rest had a more serious time of it.

To-morrow we will leave Naples with the steamer for Malta. From there you will hear from me again. When I saw my companions all receiving letters from home, I felt sorry that I could not hope for a letter from my friends. But I hope to hear from you at Jerusalem. My health has been very good; better now, I think, than at any time during my journey. I found it very pleasant to travel with my present company. The Lord has been merciful unto me in more than a thousand ways. I trust you will all join me in thanking Him for His goodness to me and you.

It will take us nearly two days to get to Malta, where we will remain until the 14th, when we will sail for Alexandria in Egypt. In a few weeks more and I shall stand on "Canaan's happy shore."

"BAD THOUGHT 's a thief: he acts his part;

Creeps through the window of the heart;

And if he once his way can win,

He lets a hundred robbers in."

1857.]

The Young of this Generation.

115

THE YOUNG OF THIS GENERATION.

BY THE EDITOR.

A mistake made in planting or sowing seed does not come to light till the seed springs up, and often not till it is about to ripen. So evils that creep in among the rising generation may not be fully discovered till that generation comes upon the stage of mature life. The thoughtless may see nothing unpromising or dangerous in the state of the youth in the land, while those who look beneath the surface of things, observe the workings of secret elements of evil, and are capable of seeing the effects in the cause, may be filled with apprehension and alarm.

There can be no doubt in the minds of reflecting persons that many, if not the great body of youth in this generation, are in a course of training and are growing up under influences which portend disastrous results to the generation in which they shall be the men and the women, the husbands and the wives, the fathers and the mothers. We may look around us and imagine from a superficial observation that the flow of social life is healthy, and even increasing in intelligence, moral elevation, and social refinement; but a closer examination will convince the serious that it is the hectic flush which betrays the hidden disease. Let one single fact be considered, this namely: How many young men, and young women are growing up outside of the church. This is especially true of young men. Take any community, and observe closely the number of young men that are pious and consistent members of the church and the number that are not, and you will be convinced that the largest portion by far are not in the church!

The worst feature of this alarming fact is, that even the young men of christian parents, or christian families, are found in large and growing numbers outside of the church. This fact is one of the greatest sorrows of Pastors, and an occasion of great bitterness to pious parents. How rarely do we now find unbroken families in the church. There are always wanderers, and most frequently among the young men. The venerable scriptural idea of covenant piety which saves the household entire, and which was in past generations so frequently realized in the piety and salvation of the whole family, is now so rare as to call forth special remark when it occurs. Even in those denominations of christians where the whole order and cultus of the church is adapted to such results, and directly aims at their securement, the end is only reached in cases few and far between. The church now, in many parts, increases almost as much by acquisition and conquest, as by evolution and growth from its own families. The succession of family faith seems to a great extent to have lost its tender power. The anointed and touching ideas that underlie the expressions, "the God of our fathers," "the faith of our fathers," "the church of our fathers," once so powerful to move the heart and bind it to religion, are regarded as antiquated weaknesses. This is most certainly not the time when the blessed prophecy, made in the last verse of the Old Testament, in regard to the superior excellency of the New Covenant dispensation, is fulfilled, when the hearts of parents shall be turned to their children and the hearts of

children to their parents. The reverse tendency seems to prevail. The young seem to regard it rather as unmanly and weak to look to God through their parents, and humbly to yield themselves to the spirit of piety, which comes to them through the faith of their parents.

If we believe that the only safety for the young is in the church-the only ark of safety that God knows of in this perilous voyage of human life-then we must be alarmed at the present tendency of things, and tremble for the generation that shall follow us. True, the Lord reigns, and will always send forth help from the sanctuary, and the evils which overwhelm one generation will be surmounted in the next, or in the succeeding ones; yet it is our duty to observe the signs of the times, and labor to lessen the evil which we may not be able to hinder or avert. The evil now referred to can only be remedied by the church. It alone is the salt of the earth. It alone is the light of the world. It alone can stem and stay those currents of evil in which the unreflecting are silently but certainly borne away from God and heaven. The minds of parents, the minds and hearts of the young, must be turned, with increased earnestness and solemnity, toward this city of refuge; and it must be proclaimed, as with seven trumpets, that there is no safety out of its holy enclosure. The idea that men can be as good out of the church as in it, must be resisted as a doctrine of devils. Those that stand outside of this ark must be told that they have not one promise in all God's Word in that position.

That the present tendency to isolation from the church results to a great extent from the unfaithfulness of the church itself, is beyond doubt and it is the fruit of its unfaithfulness, especially in not proclaiming itself as the mother of all saints, and the only bearer of salvation to men. The church has compromised its dignity-has surrendered its honor has stooped from its high position. It has not proclaimed its sovereignty. It has quietly suffered the sentiment to be entertained and to grow, that the church is only one way of salvation, while there are others, and even easier ways, outside of it. It has been content at the bid of the world, to have itself regarded only as a society of moral reform. It is pleased with the compliment generally paid it, that it is the best among the many; but does not care to have itself regarded as the only one.

Let not the church suppose that it can have true power upon this miserable level! If it is the queen of the earth, the mother of saints, the bride of the Lamb, the only true home of the Holy Spirit and of the human Spirit on earth, let it hold forth this momentous truth in the face of the world. Let its watchmen cry from its walls down into the night and the slumbers of the world, Hither, ye prisoners of hope!

We know of no doctrine for the preaching of which there is at this day more need than this. Next to Jesus as the "Head," is the church as "the Body." The world must be taught that the members are in the Head through the body; and that he who will have God as his Father must have the church as his Mother. O that the world would hear and believe this mighty truth. O that pastors would preach it without ceasing before this present perverse age. O that parents would hold to it as they love their dear children. O that the young of this generation would return to it as their only refuge and their surest rest.

1857.]

A Chapter for the Ladies.

117

A CHAPTER FOR THE LADIES.

To divert fancy, to gratify desire, and in general to be a sort of better servants, are all the purposes for which some suppose your sex designed. A most liberal supposition! The least degree of refinement or candor will dispose us to regard them in a far higher point of light. They were manifestly intended to be the mothers and formers of a rational and immortal offspring; to be a kind of softer companions, who, by nameless delightful sympathies and endearments, might improve our pleasures and soothe our pains; to lighten the load of domestic cares, and thereby leave us more at leisure for rougher labors, or severer studies; and finally, to spread a certain grace and embellishment over human life. To wish to degrade them from so honorable a station, indicates a mixture of ignorance, grossness, and barbarity. But the men who think in this manner, do themselves irreparable wrong, by putting it out of their power ever to enjoy the tenderest sentiments and most delicious feeling of the heart. He that has a true taste of happiness will choose, for his own sake, to cherish the kindest opinion of the female destination.

Yet what shall we say? Are there not many women who seem to have entirely forgotten it themselves; to relinquish at least the most valuable part of their claim, and to have conspired with those male tyrants in sinking their own importance? How often do we see them disfigured by affectation and caprice! How disgraced and ruined by imprudence? What shameful inattention to the culture of their minds, in numberless instance! What perversion, in not a few, of excellent understandings, through a levity that passes for innocent, because not polluted by vice, nay for agreeable, because accompanied with youth! Who that is a well-wisher to the sex, can forbear to be mortified on finding such multitudes so ungainly in their manners, so unentertaining in their discourse, so destitute of every solid and useful improvement, in a word, so totally devoid of all that can confer significance, or beget esteem; not to speak of downright worthlessness, proceeding from bad principles or wicked company?

With respect to these indeed, as well as the rest, I am willing to believe that they are frequently occasioned by vacancy of thought, and want of occupation which expose the mind to every suare; and that, in many cases, all this evil might, through God's blessing, be happily prevented by an early and diligent application to female accomplishments. Every laudable and beneficial purpose, which those accomplishments are calculated to serve, will concur to enforce them. They may be divided into three classes, Domestic, Elegant, and Intellectual.

As to the first, I must remind you, that how much soever they may be now neglected by many women as below their notice, no height of rank or affluence can justify such neglect. The care of a household, all ages and nations have agreed to consider as an indispensable part of female employment, in every situation that admits it. Solomon, in the last chapter of Proverbs, exhibits perhaps the most beautiful picture that was ever drawn of the Virtuous Wonian, in a sphere of activity which