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the gospel to the world. For this purpose, God called spaces for repentance allowed, as there was in Egypt's them out of a state of sin. For this purpose, be con- case; but repentance there must be, or judgments will tinues them his stewards or agents in the occupancy roll upon each other like the waves of the deluge, till, and improvement of the mammon of unrighteousness,” as in that case, the dishonored and violated government or temporal possessions. Their true maxim is well ex- of God has been vindicated and sustained (if it cannot pressed (I believe) by John Wesley—“Get all you be so otherwise) by a summary execution. The nation can, save all you can, give all you can.” In this way may save itself as Nineveh did, by fasting, and repentthey can, and they are commanded to condemn covet- ance, and supplication, and submission; but by any ousness in the midst of business and prosperity, and course of opposite character, it must finally bring upon even wealth, by bountifully consecrating their abundance itself the doom which Nineveh finally suffered in being if they have it, as well as their miles if they have it cast off of God, and trodden down of men-dismemnot, to the extension of the blessings of the gospel and bered and erased from the record of existing nations. the conversion of the world. In this way they would It is vain for financiers and politicians to blame the sustain the government of God in the midst of a covet- government, and fret at the supposed or the real misous world, even in the possession of active wealth. management of affairs in high places. The primary

But if they embezzle their Master's goods entrusted cause is the sins of the people, the church, and the goto them (for all they have is the Lord's), either by lay- vernment-each separately, and all together. God ing it up in coffers, or by pampering their bodies, or by never cursed an orderly, religious, good people, with a gilding it on their houses, by shining in tinkling orna- corrupt government or unprincipled functionaries. Rements and splendid array, by rolling in mounted car- member the heathen maxim—"Whom God means to riages drawn by pampered steeds, then, they ruin destroy, he first makes mad."* This is a proverb wormen by their example; they betray the government and thy of a better origin. The merchant no more holds cause of God by their treacherous conduct. They his capital from God, than he does his prudence and saleave the heathen world to perish in ignorance and sin gacity to use it. A nation no more holds its excellent by their fraudulent and guilty self-indulgence; and God constitution and laws from God, than it does its foreis templed either to desert them and leave them to their sight in the choice of officers to administer them. chosen course and its consequences, or to withdraw Moreover, God can curse a wicked people, with a from them his abused trust, and perhaps afflict the worldly and unfaithful church, even if Washington or otherwise, till in the bitterness of their soul they are Solomon were their magistrate. It is possible to arrive brought to publish their confession.

at such a state of popular moral corruption or debaseIn the forms thus specified sin has been committed in ment, that God will say, as he once did say—“Though this day, and it has been rebuked, and it has been con- Moses and Samuel stood before me, my heart could not fessed; but it doubtless has yet farther to be rebuked be towards this people.” and confessed, before God will have withdrawn his My friends, this is a time for a real and severe test of judgments from our land.

patriotism. Let the sot, and the Sabbath breaker, and O, my friends, we are linked to one another, to our the gambler, and the libertine, and the mere man of mocommon country, and to all the world—and surrounded ney and merchandise, know, that if they love their by the momentous interests of time and eternity. Has country, here is an opportunity for them to show it in God a government in this world? Is the Bible the au-truth, and do an actual service by forsaking their sins. thorized and truthful exhibit of the principles of that it is they who are bringing all this evil upon us; and it government? Will it punish all men for all sin, unless is we who are accessories or participants in the unrepented of and forgiven? Will this government sus. righteous work, if we either join them in their wicked tain itself, by punishing flagrant and repeated outrages course, or fail to testify by example, and influence, and upon its principles in this world when necessary? Are untiring effort against it. The encouraged or tolerated all calamities, individual and national, visitations from continuance of these evil practices, can only bring more God-and is sin the cause of them? Is our country wrath upon our blood-bought land and liberties. suffering at this time, and has it sinned so as thus to The worldly, inactive or inconsistent professor of resuffer? Is this visitation, to the daily minuting of which ligion, who is not lost to all sense of piety and love to our newspapers have almost entirely surrendered their man, has now an opportunity of aiding in the great columns for the time, the doing of God, and of the long work of saving a nation. Return from your backslidsuffering God of the Bible? Has our country sinned so ings, and do your first work--awake to righteousness, much as this ? Is God's holy law and government un- and be what you profess to be. der the feet of this people—and has he come to avenge

My dear friends, our sins have gathered this cloudy the wrong, or chastise the trespass? Is the nation actu- prospect upon a whole land, which threatens in its really in controversy with its God ?—and has the church sults to do more than to protest notes, suspend the buproved unfaithful and treacherous ? Is all this so? Then siness of firms, and break banks. we may look well to it; for the moral Governor with Already scores of accepted missionaries have had to whom we have to do, is an awful God. He will sustain be told, you cannot be sent to the heathen-you must his government, though earth and hell combine together stay at home, at least until these calamities be overpast. to oppose it. If it be for these sins of which we have And it threatens to shorten the hand of christian charity spoken, that these times have come upon us, then these in the work of apportioning their daily bread to hunsins, or whatever others, must be yielded and forsaken, dreds of missionary brethren and sisters now at work or judgments heavier and heavier, like the plagues of in foreign lands and among heathen people. Already, Egypt, will follow each other in vindication of the di- through the sins which have brought this chastisement vine right. There may be seasons of respite and *"Quem deus vult perdere, prius demental.”– Horace.

upon the land, a drought is on the currents of christian benevolence which are carrying bibles and christian READINGS WITH MY PENCIL. tracts to the benighted nations. See what our worldli

NO. VI. ness has done. Have we no amends to make ?-no re

Legere sine calamo est dormire.- Quintilian. paration ?-—no sacrifice ? All have now an opportunity to bless a country which they may have cursed. Our

37. “ As a general observation it is true, that a man is likely to nation and people had forgotten and forsaken God. be treated more censoriously, precisely in proportion to his real

excellence. It would seem as if the world were alwaye jealous This is what has brought this evil upon us. Now, it of anything higher than themselves. The motives, at all events, has become the occasion of bringing home the question of men whose excellence is conspicuous can less accurately be with solemn emphasis—“Who is on the Lord's side ?" measured by common minds."-Coleridge. Table Talk.

But one word more. Truth and the government of True as the gospel! It has indeed come to be an God, and human existence and accountability, extends axiom, that a man in a high, responsible place, is sure through the length of life, and into the eternal world. to be misunderstood, misrepresented, and maligned. Here mystery and uncertainty seems to rest on every There is a tide, uniformly setting strongly against the thing; but yonder is that certain retribution which we usefulness of any public man. As he is more observed, must all witness—that impartial tribunal before which he is more censured. As he has more to do, the less we must all stand. And now I have no secret to bring indulgenco has he. As he has chosen to be seen, he is to light--but let me, with all the sincerity and earnest

a mark, to be shot at. The arrows shoot across the ness of which my soul is capable, urge upon you all, the surface of the sea, and nobody's head must be above it. neglected and abused claims of the gospel of the Now, they who serve others in their places have not, Blessed Jesus Christ. His favor is life, and his lov- surely, given up the right to be judged fairly of. Their ing kindness is better than life. His grace is the charm usefulness, indeed, depends much upon their being dealt of eternity. And in the final home and inheritance of with, with fair and charitable constructions. his disciples, it is that “The wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest.”

39. “ How like a lie is often the truth; and vice rersa, how like the truth is often a lie!" --Coleridge. Table Talk.

True again! To lie about character, for instance, it

is only necessary to stretch the truth. John Baptist was DIRGE OF YOUNG NUNS an austere man in his habits, and people said he was

possessed with the devil. The Saviour of the world FOR A DEPARTED SISTER.

partook of the social blessings of life, and the Jews Es muerta, es muerta la santissima virgen.--Agnes de Coimbra. called him a glutton and a sot. It is indeed impossible

so to do right, that there will not be some bad quality, Why should we weep--why should we weep? very like the good you do or display, to which malice What tho' our Sister's spirit's fled ?

will be sure to attribute it. She lies like one but wrapped in sleep, Not in the ice-shroud of the dead,

39. “To be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked

out of ten thousand."'-- Hamlet. II. 2. A smile is on those gentle lipsHer gold locks fall across her brow

How much proverb, and saw, and “modern instance" She lies as one entranced in bliss,

have been spun out upon honesty! What is it? For, An angel form undimm’d by woe.

really, now-a-days it is either much altered from what

it was, or else, as again says our poet, Why should we sigh-why should we sigh?

“We need no grave to bury honesty ! Her soul is surely happy now;

There's not a grain of it, the face to sweeten For that the soul doth never die,

Of the whole dungy earth!” Is what she taught us long ago.

What, then, is honesty? It is a social virtue: for it The vesper hymn she sung last night, Her soft voice now doth breathe above;

supplies the only principle of union-a regard of mu. Yestreen she watched the taper light

cual rights. It is justice--expanded to mean, beyond

fairness and sincerity, a respect to every obligation. It To night the blaze of endless love.

is the observance of exact right. It is unsullied rectiWhy should we mourn-why should we mourn ? tude. It is solid, incorruptible, never-faltering, fearless Her corse we bear to mother earth

principle. Honesty is venerable, even in a child. To Her soul hath sought its joyous bourne

hold, by a firm grasp, on the naked right, ennobles the The casket's lost its gem of worth.

most humble, and receives a tribute from the wise and And dust to dust each voice shall chant,

the great. Such is honesty. Each hand shall strew her grave with flowers,

J. F. o. Each voice beseech the saints to grant

As pure a life be each of ours.

THE TENTH CENTURY.
EUCLID AND ARISTOTLE.

Whether the abstract idea which we form of any The first knowledge which modern Europe obtained thing, a horse for example, was not as much a being as of Euclid and Aristotle, was by means of Latin trans- the horse we ride, was a question which the tenth cenlations after Arabic versions.

tury never could decide.

Having a look of life and fresh like springs!
BLONDEVILLE.

I love thee for the truth, that takes a grace
BY W. GILMORE SIMMS.-From a Manuscript Drama. From language,--and speaks out in melody,

From thy sweet mouth,-not for the mouth, Olivia; SCENE I.

Though that might charm the sculptor into sorrow, (A rood. Theodore and Olivia meeting from opposite points.] So proud a model yet beyond his art!

I love thee-
THEODORE.
Still musing, my Olivia-idly sad,

Olivia.
Thou walk'st this wood with most ungenial spirit; No more; I do distrust thee!
Its buds, its blooms, its holy, haunted shades,

I will not hear thee in thine idle speech, Might win thee into cheerfulness, and task

For it doth mock me with imagined beauties Thy saddest thoughts for love.

Which now I have not; and doth make me tremble, OLIVIA.

Lest that thou find'st,-if loving me for these,

Thou hast loved blindly.
They do—they do.
It is of love, I muse-I think on thee,

THEODORE.
And muse in sadness while I think of thee.

Little fear of that!
THEODORE.

I cannot name thy beauties, yet I feel them,

And cannot love thee less! Last night I watched thee, In sadness, sweet?

When the vain damsels, with their vainer jewels, OLIVIA.

Sought to outshine thee; but their art was shamed In truth my thoughts are sad.

By thine, Olivia! With a wiser part, I have a prayer to thee that my fond soul,

Thou took'st that happiest tiring dame of all,

Sweet nature, to thine aid; and thy free tresses,
Still, ever more, is uttering to herself,
So that my lips have learn'd it, and for aye,

That had no gem save that pure pallid flow'r,
Do frame it into sound.

The tribute of some lowly forest bush,

Shone brighter than them all. Thy cheek had on THEODORE.

The rose-tint of thy fair complexion,What pray’r, sweet love?

Thine eye, a gem unmatchable by all,

Dazzled the rest to dimness; and thy form,-
OLIVIA.

Oh, thou hast borrow'd grace, my dear Olivia,
A silly one thou'lt say.-I shame to speak it--

From shapes of air, and slender clouds, that bend That thou may'st ever love me as thou dost,

In tribute to the moon.
Nor from the outpouring tribute of thy heart,

OLIVIA.
Find the full measure less.
THEODORE.

I pray thee do not

Thou chid'st me with thy praise, and I do tremble, And do I not?

Lest thou should'st look to find me as thy fancy Methought, my sweet Olivia, thou wert sure,

Thus paints me from thy lips; in which sad error, And knew my secret when thou gavest me thine;

Too rudely check'd by the fast growing truth, Knew that I lived for thee and doated on thee,

Thy love must turn to scorn. Thou wilt conceive me "Till I grew sick of service-foreign service, -

The parent to the fond deception
And came to dream through life,--to dream with thee, of thine own mood, and hate me ever after!
Forgetful of the old lure of ambition,

THEODORE.
The pomps of courts, the prize of a great name,
My wanton youth once toil'd for.

Fear it not, love,--they all do paint thee thus-
Olivia.

A thousand tongues of praise first taught it me,

Ere I beheld thee:-while, beholding thee, Is it true!-

Thy praises made the atmosphere around me, Thou hast a ready word--I would it were not

And I breathed nothing less, the live-long night,
So prompt upon thy lips! I would it were

But love of thee, Olivia.
That thou had'st paused awhile, as if in doubt,
Yet unresolved ;--and, then, deliberate,

Olivia.
Thou did'st assure me-as, meanwhile, thou'dst ta'en Ah, no more-
Counsel from thought. Thy love for me should be That last night's revel, was it sweet to thee, -
The creature of thy reason, not thy blood,

Did'st note the music?
And due my heart's devotedness to thine,-

THEODORE. Not to false outside and mis-seeming beauty,

It was very sweet.
That in a season dies.

Olivia.
THEODORE.
And such it is!

And then the dancers,-did'st thou note them?
I love thee for thy heart, my sweet Olivia,

THEODORE. That takes for emblem, now a dropping tear,

Well! And now a smile, and wins me from thine eye There was one fair hair'd youth, whose rolling eye Not for thine eye, though that is beautiful,

Seem'd bright and kindling as a star that flies,

VOL. III.-45

THEODORE.

And wherefore ?

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Filling the heavens with light-now here, now there-
Who touch'd with magical hands the yielding lute,
That plained in human anguish to the touch,
As if it pray'd for pity: then his voice-
He sang in such a fond and ravishing tone,
Of his own love and deep devotedness,
As fix'd the note of our Castilian maids,
So firm-he may be heedless of the spell,
Nor toil to watch it. He doth bring to me
The image of some features now forgotten,
And I have striven, but vainly, to recal them, -
They haunt me yet.

OLIVIA,
It is Blondeville.

THEODORE. And who is Blondeville?

Olivia. A youth from FranceOne skilled in every court accomplishment, And winning to all fancies,-he, already, Hath robb’d some score of hearts, 'tis said, of hope, In filling them with love.

THEODORE.
Thou know'st him then?

OLIVIA.
He is my brother's friend.
I know but little of him, and I like not
That little that I know.

THEODORE.
Thanks for the word
I had grown jealous of thee, my Olivia,
Had'st thou not said as much. But let us on;
The bird is singing sweetly in yon tree,
And the thick groves invite us. Let us on.
I have a thousand foolish thoughts to tell thee,
And a sweet boon to ask thee,--wilt thou yield it?

OLIVIA. Perchance, if thou dost sweetly ask for it, With a most fond humility of eye, And a soft tone of pleading, which shall prove thee Patient, though I deny thee.

THEODORE.
But thou wilt not?

OLIVIA.
I say not that. I am capricious often,
Like the wild music that we heard last night,
That seem'd to strive against itself, and gather
In notes of opposition.

Theodore.
What music!
Dost speak of the youth, Blonde ville ?

OLIVIA.
No-oh, no!

THEODORE.
But his thou heard'st-thou saw'st him?

OLIVIA.
Not last night.

OLIVIA.
I know not, dearest, save that by my side
I saw another. Wherefore dost thou ask?

THEODORE.
Sweet flatterer! But thou shalt not sway me thus-
And think with wooing and beguiling eye,
And velvet tongue, and honied sentences,
From lips that seem by vengeful bees new stung,
For robbing them of sweets,-to lull me thus,
Persuading me, too easily persuaded,
Against sound reason and deliberate thought!-
I will not think that I was seen alone,
Heard and remark’d, when gayest crowds were round,
And music had some sovereign worshippers,
That moved the chords, like that inspired minstrel,
Who played for heaven's wide portals and her God.
Thou could'st not heed me when that Blondeville
Was master of his cunning instrument-
When all the blandishments of beauty woo'd thee,
And gay forms floated round--not then Olivia, -
Thou art a woman!

OLIVIA.
For that very reason,
Most like to have forgotten all thou speak'st of,
In homage to her love. Why speak of Blondeville ? -
I like him not-I like not to speak of him-
He is presumptuous—with my sex a trifler,-
And, as he is accomplished in his arts,
And of most pleasing port, and free behavior,
Most careless of the wrong he does to woman,
And insolent in his strength. I would my brother
Knew less of him, and less esteemed his power,
He were far wiser.

THEODORE.
Let us go on, Olivia-
Sweetest Olivia! In our way, the spring
Has spread a softest carpet, -and the air
Is musical with her voice. Love is here-
Love speaks through all the season. Life is new,
And, in its newness, full of purity-
And now with dropping hand doth summer cast
Her rosy chain around us with her breath
Of odor, and her voice of many birds,
She wooes us to her kingdom,-woods and leaves,
Flow'rs and the trickling waters. Let us go.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

(Enter Blondeville from the copse where he has been hidden.)

BLONDEVILLE—(alone.) Thou lik’st me not, fair lady—I'm presumptuousToo insolent with thy sex, and yet unheeding'Tis well! But thou shall like me -I'm sworn to itAnd with a good return for thy ill thinking, Do heartily love thee! Thy lips, thine eye, Not overpraised by the dull swain beside thee, Are what my thoughts would have them. I must win

them-

I must win thee to better thoughts of me,

That moves your proffer. I am proud of it,
If not for love, for vengeance.

And only sorrow that I am so poor,
Ay, Count Theodore,

As but to thank you for it. I'm like one,
Thou little nk'st, in the youth Blondeville,

Whom nothing more can harm,—who therefore grows Thou see'st the brother of the hapless maid

Indifferent, because insensible, Thy wanton flatteries ruined. Claribel

I’m desperate, my friend! Shall have a stern avenger of her wrong,

BLONDEVILLE. And thou shalt feel him! Thou shalt know me soon :

Oh, not so bad;
Anon, we shall have converse. Thou shalt be

He is not desperate who hath a friend,
The fount, the spring.tide of a crowning bliss,
For thou shalt minister to my treasured hate,

And you have many. There's Count TheodoreAnd yielding thus enjoyment's happiest draught,

TORRISMOND. Shall yield its triumph too. I will pursue thee Ay, he is one,-a noble gentleman, With all the fiend's malignity and venom,

Betrothed-perchance you know,—unto my sister. His fatal poison, and his viper fang,

BLONDEVILLE. If not his open fearlessness of fate.

I heard as much. I saw him but last night,
I will smile, seek, bow, cringe, make adulation,

He did not play.
Exhaust the stores of windy flattery,
Say aught, seem aught, be aught, do any thing,

TORRISMOND.
To strike securely.

I think not, though in truth,
Ha! here comes the brother-

I was so maddened with the desperate game,
My friend-poor fool!-proud, vain and insolent,

I could see pought beside. I would it were,
Whose passions are his masters, not his slaves, I had been shielded by his policy,-
And who unveils to every eye the labor

It had preserved me!
They do task from him. He must game too-bravely-

BLONDEVILLE.
Not like a cautious country gentleman,
Who stakes an ox, and plumes him on his boldness,- Such was his thought too-
But like the city gallant-with his thousands. He looked upon your game with gloomy eyes,
He shall pay for it. But he comes, and now,

And once, when he beheld your heavy venture,

He frown'd and turned away.
I am his friend-his bosom friend-his servant.
[Enter the Marquis Torrismond, brother of Olivia.]

TORRISMOND—(sternly.)
MARQUIS.

Ha! did he frown?

BLONDEVILLE.
Good morrow, Blondeville.
BLONDEVILLE.

He would seem one, whose stubborn principles,
Noble Torrismond,

Unyielding to the passing flattery,

Of those who court, and resolute to know,
How fares it with you?

Society but as a moralist, -
MARQUIS.

Would hold no term with these indulgencies;
As one who loild for pain,

He spoke, when I was by, of the dishonor And won the boon he sought for. I am vex’d Of seeking, by superior skill or cunning, To be the thing I am-yet lack the courage

To win another's wealth ; such gain he counted To be the thing I would be. This Italian

Unworthy the high mind. I could have told him Hath ficeced me soundly.

Of thousands, the first gentlemen of Paris,

Whom such reproach would rouse to instant vengeance, BLONDEVILLE.

Who risk their fortunes nightly—thousands more
Who, Count Guicciardini ?

Who win them, and are counted men of honor.
TORRISMOND.

TORRISMOND.
Ay-he baited me with maravedies

Count Theodore, you tell me, spoke of me,
To gather Ferdinands. I'm ruined, sir.

As one by play dishonored!
BLONDEVILLE.

BLONDEVILLE.
I trust not, sir.

No-not of you!-
TORRISMOND.

'Twas but a passing comment-general-wide,

Of any man 'Tis true, as any curse

TORRISMOND.
That ever fool sent out to interest,
Which still comes back unto the creditor,

The more base to speak it!
When he least hopes return. My purse is empty.

He named me, did he not ?
BLONDEVILLE.

BLONDEVILLE.
Mine is at your service.

No, Torrismond

It was his thought upon the principle-
TORRISMOND.

I know not what it was that moved him to it--
I need it not-

Perchance some other speaker prompted it, But think not I reject the courtesy

By question--or

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