I ■ n • I Yirt ff ft ■iF.(P$ \ i^i I 44 v 4? (/J? IJly tff ■* k r^V-J^JlLl |genesee evangelist. Whole fc T2L PHILADELPHIA, THURSDAY. MARCH 8. 1860.. Sttitv. For the American Presbyterian. TO IYIIOTHER. “If we suffer, we shall also reign with Him.” Ah, yes! I know the way . Is oft limes very weary—not a ray Of God’s own blessed sunlight seems to shine Upon this path 1 this tear-stained path of thine. Then all the world is drear! Doubt and temptation!—dark distressing fear— Rude, rugged roughness; for thy bleeding feet;. Sad sorrow’s stormy tempests ’round thee beat. In tby great grief alone, List’nlng the wild wind's wailing, mournful moan! That tearful sound of sighing for the past, Its precious dreams, oh God I too bright to last. I know, for I have dwelt Where came that dreary darkness that is feltl 1 know It all—the suffering, piercing pain! - That cry of anguish o’er love’s broken chain. I know the withering blight— The eager soul-sick longing for the light 1 That aching void! the crown of thorns, all, all! Alone! Oh Christ, the worm-wood and the gall! Oh! broken-hearted ond! Listen, ’Us but the echo of His tone— “ Eloi! Biol 1 lama sabacthani! ” Forsaken! oh, my Father! Why, oh why 1 Thou holy Son of God, Tears for the painful pathway Thou hast trod I Nearer to Thee! oh sinless, suffering one I Hera we can say—“ Father! thy will be done.” Not now a weary way— Ilis voice, His hand, His counsel day by day! With Thee, oh Christ, our willing steps we bend— Bl ight heaven of joy, our home is at the end! India. For the American Presbyterian. NO MORE. Sweet friend, the paths which we have loved, By forest, glade, and shore. Where oft at sunset we have roved, Shall greet our steps no more. The raceway by whose grassy brim The tall gray willows bent— While from beyond the Bequest’s hymn Made music as we went. The leaves that danced all tremblingly, In summer’s merry mood; Foie flowers that lifted starry eyes, Beneath the grave old wood. The level whence some cheerful tone Shouted across the wave; And rocks, from lofty vine-wreathed throne, Their mystic answers gave.' The foamy sheet that leaped the ledge, Falling where wild flowers grew; Decking each snowy petal’s edge With drops of silver dew. Moss-pinks beside the river-swells, While high as eye could torn, Were crags o’erhung with crimson hells, And fringed with plumy fern. The mount whose green and graceful dome Such hidden meaning wore; Bearing aloft, through sun and gloom, Its changeless word “ No more.” No more, where night-swung branches nod, Shall heart commune with heart— Life’s checkered paths must still be trod, But thou and I apart. For the American Presbyterian. LETTER FROM CHINA. OONPUOIUS. In the petty kingdom of Lu in the fmodern provinoe of Shantung, China, there appeared about 2408 years ago, a personage whom the Chi nese delight to honor more than 'any other man. Confucius was born, according -to the commonly received chronology, 649 or 550 years before Christ, or about the time that Gyrus the Great became King of Persia. He was contemporary with Ezra and Pythagoras. During his life the Jews returned from the Babylonian captivity to the land of Palestine, Greece was invaded by the "hosts of Xerxes, and Egypt was conquered by the forces of Persia; all memorable events in his tory, and marking the era of the Chinese sage. 'Hie father of Confucius was a district magis trate. DyiDg when his son was three years old, he committed the superintendence of his educa ion to his mother. She seemed to have taken uit oare to fnstill into his youthful mind a love study and a profound regard for morality. ”ing his childhood and youth, Confucius was ’.rtable for his peculiarly grave behavior, and his ardent attachment to the precepts and .orns of more ancient times. He was not ac mied to engage in the sports and plays com among boys of Ms age, but preferred to spend time in the study of moraland political science, was greatly respected by bis fellow townsmen account of the extent of his learning and the •aordinary features of his character. At the , age of seventeen he received an appointment a subordinate office in the revenue department his native state. He began first to attract the attention of the lie os a Reformer. He had become enamored h the maxims contained in the ancient writings traditions of his country, and/ ashamed of the seracy of his own times, he earnestly endea -d to revive the usages of .former ages-both by jcept and by example. On the occasion of his iher’s death when he was twenty-four years he showed the sincerity of his professed ai lment to the customs of a more rmnote an uity by conforming to them in all that related mourning for the death of parents. He imme tely resigned all his employments under govern it for the purpose of mourning for his mother ie years, according to ancient customs. This )m had gradually been discontinued. Bat ing to the influence of the example and precepts the sage, it has since his time become the iblished and universal practice among office iders in the Jarneo Land. . This period of irning he spent in close application to study. Soon after its completion, he visited, by invita one of the princes of a neighboring kinig / hut unwilling to remain long with. Min,:he rned to Lu, his . native State, where he'set self up as a teacher, at the age of thirty, stly afterwards he received a seoond invitation isit the Court of another prince; but on ar ig there he found that curiosity, and not a lor liis maxims, had procured the invitation, therefore hade adieu to the prince, and tra sd for several years in other provinces or king aecompanied by some of his meat attached pies. - t the age of forty-five ho returned to his own l ry, and there, under the patronage of his own BY EtJLALIE, prince, became first a judge, and then chief officer of his native kingdom. He administered the duties of his station with much zeal, strictness, and im partiality, prompted, it would seem, by a sincere desire to do gdpd to his countrymen. His sense of order and justice was, indeed, the occasion of his ruin and degradation from office. For it is related that he urgently advised his prince to take -up arms against a certain usurper. Hearing of this, the' usurper sent to the prince of Lu a con ciliatory present, consisting of thirty most beauti ful horses, magnificently caparisoned; a collection of valuable curiosities, and; twenty; most accom plished courtesans. This present had its desired effect on the mind of the youthful prince, and the stem Confucius was dismissed from his councils. He retired with his disciples to a neighboring State. From this time, he wqs not uniformly popular and welcome, nor was be at all times free from personal danger at the hands of his enemies. Sometimes he was the .objeet.of applause; at other times, the subject of persecution on account of his principles. His conduct and his sayings during this period of his life often remind one of the G-reek philosopher who obtained the sobriquet of “dog,” from the caustic and churlish nature of his remarks, and who used to say, in relation to. this circumstance, “ Other dogs bite their enemies, but Imy friends, that I‘ may save them.” Con fucius, indeed, sometimes compared himself to a dog driven from his kennel. “I have,” said he, “ the fidelity of that animal, and I am treated like it. But what matters the ingratitude of men? They cannot hinder me from doing all the good that has been appointed me. If my precepts are disregarded, I have the consolation of knowing in my own breast that I have faithfully performed my duty.” But it is impossible to notice, in this brief sketch, even the principal events in the life of this singular and remarkable man. Let it suffice to add a few more particulars. He returned from his travels and sojouruings abroad to his native province at the age of sixty-eight. He spent the balance of his life in completing the literary works which he wished to hand down to posterity, and in teaching a large and devoted company of pub lic and -private scholars. It is said that his prose lytes or disciples amounted to three thousand men, of whom seventy-two were particularly dis tinguished for their affectionate devotion to him, and for their practical conformity to his teachings. When his books were finished, hd called bis fol lowers about him; and dedicated them to Heaven, as the last important act of his life, imploring that they might be of great benefit to his countrymen. A few days before his death, It Is related that he walked slowly about the house, leaning upon the top of bis staff, and crying out, as if aware of his approaching end, and of the greatness of his cha racter, and the value of Ms instructions:— “ The mountain is crumbling, • ;■ -ThestrongbeamiSyielding,. ■ ThS sage is withering like a plant.” Confucius died at the age of seventy-three. It is said that the authentic history of the • “Flowery Land” extends little, if any farther' back into antiquity than the rimes of Confucius. He collected and recorded all the traditionary, stories* which he deemed credible, relating to pe riods antecedent to his age. An effort was made by the notorious prince who built the great wall on the northern boundary of China, to destroy all the writings of this sage. In a vain attempt to evade the order and save the books they possessed, History mentions that more; than four hundred literati were buried alive, and the books they de signed to preserve were consigned to the flames. But most, if not all of the compositions of Confucius escaped destruction through the zeal of the learned. These and their commentaries have most largely •contributed to make the Chinese mind, and the’ Chinese literature, and the Chinese government what they are at the present day. Probably no uninspired man has ever exerted* on so large a mass of mankind, a greater and more marked influence than Confucius. The laws and fhe usages of the middle kingdom for near a score of centuries, have been professedly modelled ac cording to the maxims he inculcated and enforced in his books. The great fundamental principle illustrated and enjoined throughout his practical writings is.simply subordination to superiors. It is the obedience to this principle rendered by the Chinese in the various relations of society which has kept the Chinese Empire together, and has moulded the character of its immense population from the days of Confucius to the present time. A child should obey, his parents, a wife her hus band, a subject his prinee. This principle of subordination to superior authority he elucidated and applied to all the most important departments and relations of society. He has, indeed, left to posterity no such productions as the Iliad, or the iEneid, or the orations of Demosthenes or Cicero. If he had, men of modern times, and living in occidental lands, Would doubtless accord him greater honor as a genius, and his writings would be more acceptable, and oftener read by foreigners. But had he written such works he would have had little or no influence over his countrymen;' and in nothing is his knowledge of human nature more evident than in his selection of means to attain the object he sought. The subjects of his discourses to his followers, as well as the themes which he discussed iu his books, are these which have a most important and practical bearing in a political as Well as social point of view, and which the experience of two centuries showed to be sin gularly adapted to meetUhe approval of the Chi nese mind, and to satisfy Chinese wants. Confjicius is universally, regarded among the Chinese people, as a being worthy of divine honors, and accordingly divine honors are -actually paid him by the tfficers of government all over the Empire in the spring and autumn of each year. He is styled “ The Most Holy Ancient Teacher,” and “The Holy -Duke.” pis name is mentioned only with the prbfoundest-veneration by all classes among the * hundreds; of millions of the Middle Kingdom. His memory is cherished as thcori gihal author of polite and olassical literature, and as M the perfect man.” Hisffiaxims and instrue-; tions are esteemed as beyond comparison; more important, reliable, and complete, than the maxims and instructions of men in foreign lands. A mis sionary relates that in the year 1835 he and his "companions met, on their entrance-into a village in the native province of Confucius, two elderly men who declined to receive their'tracts, saying: “ We have seen your books, and wither desire nor approve them. In the instructions of our Sage we have sufficient, and they are far superior to any foreign doctrines you can briny.” Perhaps an adequate idea of the regard and veneration with which the Chinese remember Confucius may be gathered from the following poem, found in the sacrificial ritual:— " Confucius! Confucius! How great is Confucius! Before; Confucius there never was a Confucius! Since Confucius there never has been a Confucius! Confucius! Confucius! How groat is Confucius! ’ ’ Pope, in his “Temple of Fame,” makes men tion of the Chinese sage in the following honora ble and eulogistic terms:— “ Superior and alone Confucius stood, Who taught that noble seience, to be good.” With respect to thereliginus opinions of the Most Holy Ancient Teacher, little favorable or praise worthy can be. said. On the subject of spiritual worship of invisible beings he does not profess to be able to give any instruction. He candidly confesses his • ignorance about the gods. He i openly admitted that he did not know much about them, nor did he recommend their worship. They were above his comprehension. He preferred to confine his instructions to .subjects connected with this life and this world. The obligations of man, according to him, consisted solely in obey ing bis sovereign, and in doing good to his coun try, friends, and family. He enforced his pre cepts by no pretended divine sanctions. They were merely the teachings of reason, experience, and expediency, and depended for their authority on no superior being. “Not knowing even life,” said he, “bow can we know death?” Some times, however; Be seemed to think and talk as though he had been sent by Heaven to revive the maxims and enstoms of more ancient ages. For instance, on one occasion, when in special peril of his life, be remarked: “If Heaven means not to obliterate this doctrine from the earth, the men of Kwang eart do nothing to. me.” One feature of the writings of Confueius de serves particular and honorable mention. He never applauded nor deified vice. Unlike Greek and Homan classical writings, his pages are not marred with obscene descriptions and licentious allusions. While they contain much that is good and unobjectionable; still, it must be admitted, there is much in them to be reprobated. Such; for example, is his precept to a son: “not to live under the same heaven” with the slayer of his father, meaning, “exercise.the /‘law of revenge/ and pursue him unto death.” He made altogether too much of the virtue of filial obedience. The sage seems to have been nothing better than a moralist. Some think they have abundant reason from his writings to pronounce him au Atheist or a Fatalist. Whatever may have been his real religious character, he most undoubtedly had a very high standard of moral conduct. On a certain occasion he was questioned whether there was any me word which taught the be havior proper to observe at all times and at all places? —‘WilHftJt' the “word “ shir”- aoswertbe purpose?” was his. reply. He explained it in this manner:—“ Do not unto others what you would not have them do unto you.” It is remark able that he expressed in the form of a negative proposition, what is a great approximation to the sentiment which our Saviour expressed in the form of an affirmative one, when he uttered the Golden Rule; —“ Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them.” But it is time to bring this sketch to a conclusion. Let it suffice to warn the reader against supposing that the Chinese, to any great extent, conform in their practice to the high moral standard of their e lassies. While multitudes of the literati in every province are able to repeat, memoriter, a'large portion of the writings of Confueius without hesi tation and without mistake, probably few, if any, strive seriously and heartily to reduce them to practice. They are studied principally as the standard of style, and, as furnishing sentiments and language which they are to incorporate iu their literary compositions at the established ex aminations; not as the standard of morals and of religion by which, to the exclusion of other sys tems, they are to regulate their conduct. .The Writings of Confucius are a grand and stupendous failure so far as the practice of their best moral sentiments is concerned. The present condition of this empire, considered with regard to the in fluence, or rather the want of influence, of the maxims and examples of this sage over the lives and the hearts of his professed disciples, exhibits a most conspicuous instance as well as.a most con vincing proof of the incompetency of moral pre cepts and of human wisdom to make men happy, sincere, and virtuous. Sinim. “ Fulichau, Dec., 1859. For the American Presbyterian. ” GOVERNOR AND LEGISLATURE OF lOWA. Our new Republican Governor, Samuel J. Kirkwood, -of lowa City, aM'our iSfeutenant- Governor, Nicholas J. Rusch, of Davenport, were duly inaugurated at the opening of the Session of the Legislature, last month; and both branches of the Legislature are now well at work.. ' Mr. Kirkwood is not a member of any Church, though his father died at lowa city in commuffion with the Presbyterian Church. Mrs. Kirkwood’s connexions attend the Methodist Church, where the Governor, when he attends anywhere, it is believed, usually accompanies her. Mr. Rusch is a native of Germany, and educated as a Lu theran, which connexion he continues. They are both men of high moral worth, and ill their sta tions with dignity, commanding the respect of all parties. Mr. Busch has especially disappointed many of his opponents in his ready command of English; and tact in the chair, as President of the Senate, by virtue of his office. Mr. Kirkwood, in his Inaugural, has touched .upon the case of John Brown at Harper’s Perry, condemning his acts, hut commending his “ disin terested” motives, and plabing him in the same category- with Crittenden, of Cuba, and Andre, of Great Britain, with this difference—that Brown was aiming at the liberty of the colored race. Mr. Kirkwood also recommends Colonization in Central or South America, of the free blacks, — Mr. Blair's scheme, of St. Louis, ’Mo. He com mends African Colonization by the way, but deems it inadequate to the necessity of the free colored” people, driven out of the free and slave States alike, and'without a resting place in our country. These moral topics, together with the Liquor Laws, have engaged considerable attention, and will claim the action of our Legislature—Bepub lican in both Houses—more or. less till the close of the session. I- Governor Lowe, on retiring-front Chair, by the election of the people, has been ex-, altcd to the station of Chief Justice of our Supreme Court. Lieutenant-Governor,, Faville* retires to private life. Both have reared, from the chair of State with much, honor aqd approbation of the people at large. ;. «■ r Thus, one political wave.s fter another Tolls over, our young State, with over, is hundred thousand souls to be agitated'and tosspdt without -rest, since the National and State elections such quick succession. When .Will the, world, be at. rest? When will men gettime to prepare for the world to come? Are political men- to be’only stayings to the great edifice, of. h.uman society to be taken down, at death, "as no longer useful? When shall.our “Senators bps,as at. the first, and our counsellors as at, the . haye more action than our fathers, .blit less more running to and fro, bpt -np great knowledge or wisdom from S. S.- H-. ■; XNDII. SIGNS OP PEOQRESS. Messrs. Editors: —By tfioge whp are waiting and praying for the of India, I am often asked if there are any/jndications of progress —particularly if there ar.i any change? in the policy of British rule which show a more friendly disposition towards Christianity and native con verts. - All such changes are very slight, and hesita tingly made, and yet to tb'd observant"eye of the missionary, some are transpiring,"which present themselves to the hopeful as bright fore shadowings of better thing? td come. , The British Government is doubtless feeling its rule more firmly established, in India than ever before, and is showing Ims. xleferen qg, to the wicked superstitions and rites of-the people.* Though bands of rebelsWilbsubsist in the limits of Nepaul and some -other.border territories, .yet their strength-and broken, and. through out British territory the straggling parties of free booters are being ferreted destroyed. For a year-past the strongest .'rebel band in Western' India , have been the and the, last mail brings report of their complete destruction. The brief despatch of' the officer in pursuit of them says: “I have the pleasurp’.to report that I came up with the rebel BheefJfyhis. day, at noonand succeeded in shooting and.cutting up the gang to a man.” ■ ' \fi .. • Sadly shaken as British prestige was two years ago, throughout India, it isidoubtless stronger and more effective now than ej/er before. Conscious of this, and somewhat ineebsed perhaps in view of the fact that past efforts to ooueiliate the people by yielding to their foolish and wicked supersti tions have proved a failure the British rulers are evidentlyTelaaring their -conciliate: by improper concessions, and are adopting a policy more impartial and just. : In illustration of this view, 1 may mention: 1. They are relaxing their rigid proscription of the Christian Scriptures in their government schools. Heretofore, teachers and'professors in their schools and colleges have been required to be silent at all times on the subject of Christianity, and not to explain anything in 'the Bible-even if their Hindoo pnpils desired it. This requisition for silence is now limited to school hours. I grieve to say there is scarcely any Christian truth in the text hooks allowed in their schools; and still more to note the fact that “ The (present) Director of public instruction would have no objec tion to introduce a set of books from which every Christian allusion had been effectually weeded.” Still there is cause for joy that the former rigid interdict of the Bible and Christianity has been slightly relaxed, and we may thankfully accept it as an omen of better things in the near future. 2. Another point is the admission of' low-caste pupifa into'some of these.schools. This is a step more decided and aggressive than the other, because it conflicts more severely with the caste notions of the Hindoos. Only a short time ago one of my own pnpils, a nominal Christian of the Mahar caste, sought ad mission to one of these schools, but was refused. An English officer feeling the injustice of this re fusal, appealed in behalf of the'Christian lad to the highest officers of the British Government. His appeal was in vain. The Government grati fied the Brahmins, and excluded the Christian youth from the Sfchool. Now, in the English Government school at Ahmednuggur, a regulation has been adopted, ad mitting pnpils of any and dll castes without dis tinction. A Mahar boy was recently admitted, and although most of the high caste pupils took offence and left, the Government has strictly .ad hered to its. rule;.and the Brahmins must waive their .'prejudices or<forego-their-own privileges. 3. The Government is more vigorously enforcing its laws against some of the enormities of Htodoo ism. It is generally known that sutti, infanticide , nieriah sacrifices, Jwok-swinging, and the like, have been interdicted by the British Government, but it is not so widely known that these enormities have become only partially suppressed. For in stance, the bloody; Meriah sacrifices were inter dicted years ago, and some efforts have been made to suppress them. But they still exist, and the Governor General Fas just sent a new commission into the Khoud country, with a strong party to enforce the interdict. 4. A large number of Hindoos and Mahoramedans recently petitioned the British Government to abo lish its system of educational grants in aid. These grants are available for all schools, missionary or otherwise, provided they impart a certain amount of secular education. This petition of the natives for their abolition,, originated in their apprehen sion that those grants operate in favor of mission schools. .. -*■■■ ' The Government meets this petition with sound arguments showing its impropriety;'and firmly re fusing to grant it. . This petition of the praying for the abolition of grants in aid, contrasts strongly with the fears of some friends of missions, who even ob jected to receiving these generous giants from; Go vernment, from an apprehension ofsome.injurious influence to their .mission schools. - How effec tively this apprehension is shown to be .groundless by this petition of the natives! * The idolaters of India have 1 ever shown that they regard our- schools as very effective agencies for exposing the errors of their falsejr'eligions, and supplanting-them’with Christianity. In the early history of our Bombay mission the' natives became so thoroughly con vinced that our schools were undermining Hin dooism, that they earnestly petitioned the Govern ment to interdict them. - -5. The Home Government.of Great Britain is giving, utterance to sentiments which show less regard to Hindooism. Lord Stanley, the late Secretary-of State for India, openly avowed his determination to main tain the old policy of the Eask India Company,. A missionary deputation waiting upon' him were very coolly received,*and obtained no concessions: He even sent out an order to India, warning all British officers to be on their guard, lest they should com-, promise their official character by giving aid and countenance to missionary efforts. - But the present Secretary, Sir Charles Wood, gives expression to views more worthy of himself and of the nation. In reply to a similar,deputation; he-says:. “No persons-can be more anxious for the spread of Christianity in India than we are. Inde pendently of Christian considerations, I believe every additional Christian in India is an additional bond of union with this country, and an additional source of strength to the empire. There are po litical reasons in favor of spreading Christianity.” Lord Palmerston, too, endorses the same senti ments: “It is not only our duty,” he says, “but it is our interest to promote the diffusion of Chris tianity, as far as possible, throughout the whole length and breadth of India.” Now we do not overlook the fact that there are many, very many, acts of individual officers, and acts, too, of .the whole British India Government, which conflict directly ■ with these sentiments. Still they are right sentiments, and we need not suppose them to‘be uttered insincerely. They ought to be adopted in practice as the legitimate result of the bitter experience of the British during the last three years. Even their utterance shows a 'gratifying-advance, and taken' in connexion with the items already mentioned, they furnish evidenee ‘that past experience arid Christian influence: are telling upon the character of British rule in India, We would hot magnify the import of these item's and events, but like straws they show at least the direction of the current; and strengthen our con fidence that the British "will hot much „longer -maintain in India "that'peculiar 1 kind of “neu trality” which proscribes their own faith and pa tronizes all others. ■ Yours truly, For the American. Presbyterian. THOMAS CAMPBELL. - In every age the brightest intellects have fre quently been the companions of misfortune. The -minds we now honor, and whose words dwell on every lip; were; perchance, shrouded in sorrow in the day 'of their existence. Hence we are ac customed to associatergditmls witlrsome misfortune. It is a fact, that of all the poets the world has ever produced, very few have led happy w lives. Either domestic relations, and that grim skeleton, poverty, or the world’s coldness, and the malady of a broken heart, have one or all combined to cast shadows over their earthly pilgrimage. .■ But the star of fortune shone brightly on, the poet Campbell, and stood over-him on, the day of his first introduction to the public. Instead of a,cold reception, or a stinging criticism from the men that graced'the literary,clubs of Scott and Jeffrey, he received, the universal praise, of the nation. His first efforts gave him the sacred name of poet: The poor tutor with hut few friends arose from comparative obscurity to a high point in the literary world. Ushered iuto the company of Scott, Brougham, Heyden, Graham, Jeffrey, Smith, Homer, and the prominent minds of .the age, he saw before him a splendid opening for future distinction. The greatest orators, some of the finest poets of any age, the most perfect statesmen, the ablest critics, and tlie first ..novelists of the world were his cotemporaries. At an early age Campbell gave proof of un common talent for literary and poetic composition. While a student at the University his commanding prowess gave him pre-eminence in this respect, So inborn was his loye of literature and works of the imagination, that every attempt to turn, his mind to any professional pursuit proved fruitless. He passed many hours of each day in the study of poetry, and the romantic fictions of the great authors. From sqch sources he drew his mental food, and cultivated his powers of imagination to extreme limits. A mind thus directed, and with out proper discipline from an association with practical duties, and a familiar acquaintance with the severer studies of a complete education, soon loses that balance which is essential to success in life. With the poet, energy is needed, as it is with military genius. The relations of the poet to the world, his companionship with misfortune, his straggles with pride and poverfcy/and his peculiar temperament, combine to make his life an ano maly. Hence decision of character is an element of success with the poet as well as the historian or diplomatist. This characteristic did not belong to Campbell. . Had he possessed the energy of Shakspeare, his life of sixty-seven years would have furnished to the world something move than one small volume of poems. This failure in his mental constitution, added to his extreme sensitive ness, made him the toy of fortune, and ill-fitted him to encounter- the realities'of life. Had not his first efforts received public patronage and the applause of a nation, it is probable that he would have sunk to rise no more, and his subsequent brilliant productions been lost to the world. Fortunate for the literature of his country was it, that she early extended to him a cordial welcome to share in her greatness, and contribute his genius for the glory of her name. Those incomparable war odes which never fail to kindle the soul and warm the pulse, might never have seen the light of day; those poeinsof beautiful expression, con summate finish, and fascinating, imagery, might never have emanated from the chambers of his mind, were it not for this. But if Campbell had this fault, he had traits which endear one to his fellow-men. He was distinguished throughout his life for generosity, seldom found among men. Many a poor way-farer in this vale of tears re membered him after his death, for his acts of charity. Bat his devotion to the cause of liberty, and the interest' he manifested-in the brave Foies, then contending for their rights, was one of the noblest acts of his life. ' - ' In Campbell existed a peculiar union of thought and impulse. His thoughts at times soared on the wings of genius, b.ut its flight was turned to earth by an aching heart, or a melancholy presage. In viewing the life of a poet, we observe traits of character and idiosyncrasies which exist with genius. We think of the “ divine art,” as something be yond the pale of thought, the development of mind, the cultivation of the schools, and the poet rises.before us, superior to the man and his sur roundings in the full splendor ahd majesty of a power springing frotn within, J[t is thus.that we comprehend Campbell. He was not like other men. /We cannot altogether understand him,be cause he was: a man of genius. Logic is good, a p4: the eritic’s pen is a useful instrument; but is “itself, alone,” and often beyond the grasp of comprehension, so curious are her ways. W. C. Winslow. BOOKS THAT-DIJS--A BOOK THAT LITRES. The tables of literary mortality showthe follow ing appalling facts in regard'to the chances of an author to Secure literary fame : out of 1,000 pub lished books, 600 never pay the cost of printing, &c.; 200 just pay expenses; 100 return a slight profit; and only 100 show a substantial gain. Of these 1,000 books, 650 are forgotten by the end of the year, and 150 more at the end of three yeans: only 50 survive seven years’ publicity. Of the 50,000 publications put forth in the seventeenth century, hardly more than 50 have a great repu tation, and are reprinted. Of the 50,000 works published iu the eighteenth century, posterity has hardly preserved .more than were rescued from oblivion in the seventeenth century. Men have • been writing bcjoks these 8,000 years, and there are hardly more than 500 writers throughout the globe who have survived the ravages of time and the forgetfulness of man. The vanity of young authors—though there are exceptions—is proverbial. Colton, in his Laeon, aims at it the most stinging of his arrows. Every year a thousand writers imagine that they have something to say which the world ought to hear. They hurry in to print, and ask men to listen to the new oracle. But the great world goes on its way, and. pays no more heed to their modest request, than the ox in the .fable to the fly on his horn. Of all books published, the' great majority are dead to begin with, and it is a work of superero gation for critics to attempt to kill them. They fall-from the press like autumn leaves from the tree, to perish and be forgotten. Of the few which can be said to have a living mission, many perform it in a : year, or even a moiith. It is only once in centuries that a really great genius rises up to write a book, which he is confident without pre sumption—like Milton—that “the world will not willingly let die." A really live book is a rare production. It is one that will not winter-kill—one that will be read when the author’s grave-stone crumbles—one that kindles into action minds that come in contact with it—one. that has in it the seed of coming centuries. Such a book cannot.be -made to'order. Literature has no patterns by which plodding imitation can shape it. The at tempt will always prove a failure. Time is sure to detect the cheat. R. G. Wilder. Even of works of real merit in their day, bow few survive their own age 1 It has been said, with no little point, that all the honey of antiquity might be stored itrlTEinglebeeliive. -“Take ;4he : greht ; writers of the classic age of the Greek and Roman periods,—Aristotle, Plato, Cicero, Seneca, and others,. —and how little of real vitality there is in them! : They are curiosities for the scholar; but, after all, for the most part, intellectual mummies. Take the great lights of English literature, Bacon, and Addison, and Bolingbroke, and Johnson, &e., and how the coals their genius kindled are already half-buried in their ashes. How little read, even at this early period, are the. writings of Burke, the most philosophical of English—or Fisher Ames, almost his peer, of American statesmen; and in reverting to the speeches and writings of Webster, how readily one recalls what is almost sure to be his inevitable fate in the parallel surmise of Ma caulay, that the time might yet be when some cu rious traveller from New Zealand might be seen sitting on a broken arch of London Bridge sketch ing the ruins of St. Paul’s cathedral. Once in a while there comes along a hook like Baxter’s Saints’ Rest, or Bun yap’s Pilgrim’s Pro gress, that has more vitality in it than a whole pyramid of metaphysicians and novelists of the mo'dern stamp. But whence is this? Their vital element is borrowed from “the living words” of Christ. By force of this they live themselves. Almost all- else is buried by the waves of time, leaving only here, and there a little islaud of living thought. Let us take the dozens of volumes of Walter Scott and James, and Dickens and De Quincey, and a score of other modern literateurs, and who imagine that they have the stuff of im mortality in them? Already .they are drifting away on the sea of time, like the huge admirals of the Spanish armada, soon to be, if they are not already dismasted, to leaye on the rocky shore, for. centuries to corac, only fragments of their plundered cargo. Nor would it be difficult’ to name stars in the' firmament of American literature that are peerless now, but ere long must give place toothers. New writers and thinkers will rise up, their equals or: superiors, to rival and discrown them, only to be discrowned in turn. In the great host that crowd the, field, like the stars in the milky way, it is ever becoming more and more difficult to retain the pre-eminence. Ten centuries hence, and criticism will need a Herschel telescope to detect them. The history of books is much like that of fossil plants and races—the* products of an antediluvian age. They have died to form the strata out of, which others should spriDg, to flourish and perish; in their turn. So has passed away in succession— each feeding on the decay of its predecessor—gene ration after generation of dead books. Nowand then one has lifted its towering trunk, as we sfce in -the coal quarries, shooting up through genera tions ;0f the dead. But after all, it was only a more distinguished fossil. The gifted and eloquent are so6n forgotten. Great libraries are great cata combs, and all the skill of the binder’s art only builds, for the most part, the splendid mausoleums of dead books. Meanwhile, the words of Christ are as fresh and living as ever. Time has gathered no rust on them. ■4ge has not out-dated* them. Their power and influence were never before so great as . they are to-day. Childhood has read them and owned their power over youthful susceptibility. Age has pe rused them) and reperused them, and never found them old. Generation :after generation has taken them up and pored over them, and found them fresh as ever. The New Testament is ever new. The words of Christ are to-day what they were to Luther when he found them in his monastery buried in the old Latin Vulgate,-—what they were a century earlier to Glemengis, when turning.from Greek and’ Roman classics to the Scriptures, he declared, that be had learned more from the'last in hours, than from the first in years. ; What if there should rise up other orators, like Demosthenes, or Chatham, or Webster; other thinkers, like Pascal, or Locke, or Bacon; other poets, like Dante or Milton; other investigators, like Franklin, or Hersehel, or.Faraday,—who ima gines that any or all of them would be able to supplement by a single line, “the living words ’’ of Christ ? These stand alone by themselves, forever unapproachable, inimitable. Most great writers and speakers have had their crowds, of imitators. Byron has had his in tellee-, tuul apes, and many a young writej: has made him self ridiculous by counterfeiting the style, tit clothing,his thought in the philosophical, or rather transcendental garb of Carlyle or Emerson. Genius YOL IV—NO. 28:—Whale No. 193. seems in fact to live in a’world of mirrors, where if it gives light enongh to be seen by, it will find its image reflected from every wall. But who has ever ventured to imitate, or rather parody, the Man of Nazareth f Who has ever produced a rival of the Sermon on the Mount, or attempted to speak like him in._para.bles? Even if the sacrilege of the act did not forbid, no man has ever deemed it possible. One might as well attempt to rival in dioramas of the tempest, the thunders of the hea vens or simulate the splendor of the sun with a Drummond light. Meanwhile, the most powerful minds have not been ashamed to confess 'their own indebtedness to those words-whieh are “spirit and life.” The wisest have studied them to become more wise. The holiest, have read them to become more holy. Paseal was a great mathematician, as well as a powerful thinker, but he listened with adoring reverence and child-like humility while the Great Teacher expounded to him “ the mathematics of heaven.” John Locke fathomed, as few have done, the depths of the human understanding,“but in the ripeness of his. years, and’the fulness of his attainments, he was‘ ever more anxious to come, through the study of the Scriptures, to a fuller understanding of the l providence and grace of God. Milton, with a genius that could at once plead the cause of civil and religious freedom and soar to the loftiest .heights of a hallowed imagination, would never have counted all : bis own works as a feather’s weight in the scale against tlfc words of Him that spake as never man spake; and Lord BacoD, who could reason where others speculate, and eould throw off his terse thoughts in striking aphorisms, was fain to make fast the girdle of his arguments with golden clasps from the words of Christ. The very position of the Scriptures in contrast with the transient vitality and power of all other books, vindicates their unrivalled pre-eminence. They can never be superseded. They can never become obsolete. There is that in the nature and condition of man which finds in them alone the answer to its cravings. . “Yes, it is only a prayer meeting, and there fore, if it be a little cold, or wet or snowy—or if it be a little disagreeable travelling—or if I feel a little averse to travelling out, that is sufficient excuse. If it were a sermon, I should not think of remaining at home, hut it is but a. prayer meet ing. Few will be present, and it is so dry and uninteresting, I shall not attend.” Is this the language of a Christian ? Can it he that the prayer meeting is an uninteresting place to the follower of Jesus? Yet is it not too evident that the con duct of many professors of religion, if put into words, would speak plainly the above sentiments? Why is this? Can that church be in a prosperous condition, where a large majority of the members feel and act thus in these matters? ,Wc leave the reader to judge. We could name one little coun try church, where a weekly meeting for prayer is attempted,' and though the church stands in a thickly settled neighborhood, where almost all the heads of families are members, yet we have been present wben not more than five or six of these have been there, and not more: than a dozen per sons in all. Now we w.ould seriously ask, as iu the presence of God, —Do such neglecters feel their own wants, or the wants of Zion?. Do they feel that interest in the prosperity of the church with which they stand connected, that the cause.de mands? Why is the prayer meeting “dry and uninte resting?” Does not the church need united peti tion? Is the Divine blessing on us as a: particu lar congregation, a matter of small importance? When you hear of other parts of the church being visited with “times of refreshing,” does your heart never burn with the desire that we too might be visited in the same manner? Look narrowly into your hearts, and see if, in this indifference to the prayer meeting, there is not a like indifference with regard’to the interests and prosperity of the church? And remember, too, you are not left to your own choice in this matter. You are under obligations, by your own voluntarily assuming the profession of Christianity, to “not forsake the as sembling of yourselves together,” and also to “pray-for the peace of Jerusalem!” . Oh! fellow professors, how can you feel indifferent to these things? If you even consult your own enjoyment, is there no pleasure in appearing before God? In stead of thinking it a task, should we not esteem it a privilege to meet together and present our united petitions at a merey seat? How sweet to plead his promise, “Where two or.three are ga thered together in my name, there am I in the midst.” "Do you believe this promise? Remem ber that Thomas by absenting himself once from the place of prayer, missed a meeting with his Lard! Do you go with a desire of meeting with Jesus? How then can it be uninteresting? One word, in conclusion, to those who conduct the meetings for prayer. ■ Try to make them inte resting! Lead the heart by presenting our par ticular wants as a ehurch before the throne of grace. Are not the petitions too general? The heart must b'e affected by stating our particular necessiti«j|. Be punctual in attendance, and show by your ednduet that you yourselves are deeply interested. Plead like Abraham, “0 that Ishmael might Jive before Thee !” -St., Matthew is supposed to have suffered mar tyrdom, or was put to death by the sword at the city of Ethiopia. St. Mark was dragged through the streets' of Alexandria, in Egypt, till he expired. St. Luke was hanged upon an olive tree in Greece. St John was put into a caldron of boiling oil at Rome, and escaped death. He afterwards died a natural death at Ephesus, in Asia. St. James the great, was beheaded at Jerusa lem. . St. James was thrown from a pinnacle or wing of the temple, and then beaten to death with a fuller's club. St. Philip was hanged up against a pillar at Hierapolis, a city of Phrygia. St. Bartholomew was flayed alive by the com mand of a barbarous king. Sfc. Andrew was bound to a cross, whence he preached to the people till he expired. St. Thomas was run through the body by a lance, near Malipar, in the East Indies. HABrrs.— There are habits, not only of drink ing, swearing and lying, and of some other things whieh are’ commonly acknowledged to be habits, but of every modification of action, speech and thought. Man is a bundle of habits. There are habits of industry,attention, vigilance, advertency; of a prompt obedience to the judgment occurring, or of yielding to the first impulses of passion;, of extending our views to the future, or of resting upon the present; of apprehending, methodizing, reasoning; of indolence, dilatoriness; of vanity, self-conceit, melancholy, partiality; of fretfdlness, suspicion, captiousness, censoriousness; of pride, ambition, covetousness; of overreaching, intri guing, projecting; in a word, there is not a quality or function, either of body or mind, which does not feel the influence of this great law of anima ted nature. John B, Gough lately gave three lectures in the Round Room of the Rotunda in Dublin, Ireland, : which is capable, of containing two thousand five hundred persons, and was full to the utmost possible extent. He visited some of the provinces, and in Belfast alone s succeeded in obtaining two thousand signatures to the pledge. “IT IS ONLY A PRAYER MEETING.” FATE OF THE APOSTLES.
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