is famitg nth.
MABEL'S RESOLVE,
What:makes our dear Mabel so tired to night?
-Mamma has not kissed her, nor put out the light;
Yet I see, through the curtains, as slyly I peep,
er blue eyes are closing: She'll soon be asleep.
I will tell you: Big Bridget, the cook, went away
This morning, and Mabel, throughout the long day,
Ilas helped in the kitchen, up stairs and all round—
A brisk little housemaid as ever was found.
'Twas a droll sight to see her, and made us much
fun,
With her sleeves fastened up, and a long apron on,
First washing the dishes, then dusting a shelf,
With a great feather-duster as tall as herself.
Now standing on tiptoe, as small '
as a fairy,
kinitolitig the cream from the milk in the dairy;
Now peeping to see if the biscuits were brown,
And merrily laughing to find how they'd grown.
But she was uriostleased, when 11,t last, with a broota,
She had 613 aied. black spider;quile out - ofth4 Albin ;
'• Ile was going, mamma," she said, ready to,ory,
"To eat fur his sapper this dear little
And what do you think were the last words she said,
As man:lima led her darling at p,tobed
"When I'm a.big lady, and go to'bousekeePing,
I shan't leave a cobweb Tor spiders to sleep in:
Mits. H. P. lI4RBINGTox.
THE UNKNOWN 'DAY.
A small, 'low-celled room;fur
.
fur
nished, but setiipulOustY - neat, and gi:ving
evidence 'of tender, womanly care; its' 'win
dow-shutters,, however,. nearly ,closed, as
though the entrance of ther,golden auturnn
sunlight were an intrusion; the balmy
,air
and soothing rural sounds, that could:not be
excluded, stealing ',gently in; such was. the
scene of the trial awn immortal soul: ex
ternally, indeed, a peaceful scene—but the
trial, as it were by fire.
On a low bed in one corner of this apart
ment lay a young Man, silent and ,motion 7
less.. To a close observer, only, would..he
have seemed as young as he really was; -for
a few months had done upon him work
of years- 7 -his face was haggard and weary
looking, as though three, instead of a single,
score, of years, had left their traces there.
The,dark hair and bright restless eye were
all the vestiges of youth that
,physical and
mental agony had deft untouched. He lay
like one exhausted by some sharp conflict,
his oyes closed and hislips firmly compressed,
only half conscious of what surrounded him,
but vividly alive 'to all that paSsed in the
mysterious world within. The sound, of a
familiar step, and the touch of a hand l -On-the
latch were, - ,lowever, suffipitnt , L o i o t pen; the
dreamy - eyes, - and - :firing them 'Some - thing
like an expression of pleasure. No wonder,
for as the door opened; noble-looking wo
man entered,—one of those women of whom
'it is rare good: fortune to nurnber two or
three in all the round of one's,acquaintance.
who combine in rare
,proportion all the ele-
ments of true strength of character with the
most gracious and generous benevolence,
whose very presence elevates, soothes, and
strengthens us,—sisters of Mercy indeed, the
highest merely human embodiment of "peace
on earth, good-viill towards men."
"Ah, 'Cousin Margaret, have you come at
last I" said the youth, holding. out hi& t hand
as she approached' " HO* have longed
to see you!".
" And I have longed to come to you,
Robert,"-r(?,tutned- the . tally, as, she:bunt over
him indicissea foreleact tiOr gentle
motherly way, "but you know coma
A pressure of the hand he held was his
only response, while Cousin Marguree,svres
fitted' with'itears, arid Tin
or teiaient she
turned away her head. These signs of emo
tion, and her'. mourning dress; :told a tale of
bereavement and sorrow ir and no one could.
look into her countenance without re'engniz
ing in her a capacity for, suffering equal, to
her power of loving, and both in no ordinary
degree. But, accustomed f ,to control her
own feelings for the sake of others, she
yielded -no further to them, and when the
again addressed her young.cousin, her voice
was clear andwteady. -Not many words, of
condolence were needed between these
friends; they well understood each other's
heart ; one word, one look, could convey more
inner sympathy than mail can express in a
long conversation.
" Ali, Cousin Margaret," exclaimed Robert
Earl, "how little did I think, when I last
saw you,—do you remember those pleasant
hours on .New Year's Day, when we,.were
speculating on what might 'be -before- us in
this'. year?—that before we should meet
again, you would have visited the dark val
ley of death, and I should have become;—
the helpless wreck, you see, me!"
"Ile leadeth his -own by mays, they know
not!" said Cousin Margaret, reverently and
softly, as if half to herself. Robert scarcely
,needed, but went on:
full of life - I was then! Hew I
',oasted myself of the morrow ! I felt like
•a traveller just coming to the end of a toil
- some journey; and my land of promise,
which seemed to lie just before me,
,was,to
be no idle, useless, life, but one spent in my
Master's work. , I rejoiced in my youth and
strength—l *tight it was all for His dear
sake, but rust have been terribly self-de
ceived. Mi.Oast day in the dear old Semi
nary ell:l4'o7=a pleasant spring day; how
vividly fern emb.•r theces that surrounfid
me Olen Professors 4,
ates and friends;
and every word # 4 .• ~. .: t tlemn charge still
rings in my eay;e:... 4 ,' , 'e next day came our
early partiog4;44 joyously we all. set .out
for borne! But oh, cousin—one short Irnar
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN THURSDAY, MARCH 5, 1868.
—" his voice grew husky. ; there were no
tears in the bright eyes, but great drops of
sweat stood thick and cold on his forehead.
His cousin wiped them tenderly away, press
ing his hand, but without speaking.
"I do not recollect," he continued, re
covering himself a little, " anything about
the accident; only the speed of the train in
which I was, which seemed none too great as
it approached home,—a terrible roar and a
crash, then a blank ; and from that day un
til this, I have lain here, and God only
knows how long I shall thus lie helpless.
For The surgeons say, that if I everotalk
again, it will not be for years, and then but
slowly and feebyl. Dear Cousin, do not
think, me weak,—but, indeed, it is such a re
lief tosay.all, this to you. cannot, I dare
not add to poor Mother's burden :by a word
of complaint, aiid lialleikisiMhtly think
ing it all over, .thr,oUghilth‘liaMand sleep
less nights, until I sometimes think I shall
lose my reason. Think of it,—all the hope
of ~•,my life dashed from,tee,..just on,the,-me
offulfilment.„HAy sacred, - •
sion,—mine no more And my dear -.Mo
ther and Eva, whom my father confided to
me with his last
,bre4h. How can Mother
ever live burdened iiiith'stich a charge as I ?
And how is my poor sister to be educated?
Coifed Marg - afAt',:xhy,,vitrdiel not ',Ckod let
me lie down in the grave with your little
Harry, rather than live to burden those I
long so to serve? Mule is a lost life,—yea,
worse than lost !"
His cousin had Jet him taln without
interruptiq% lift jta t, gircgr in thus
kg .
giving vitirto dotiont . 1A Ips through
weary months, he would find the most direct
nr
relief-fro , ;lveir7vi2leucer ' , But-- now ishe
drew tenderly ear him Rind in a law s , gentle
voice, said,
"Have you forgotten God's promises,
, ~ . t‘, t ~: it •
No, I do not—l canno forget—theg words;
I say over to' dys'elf, - Wfadm' God lo_yeth,
He chasteneth, and many, many other
gracious words; they sound sweet, but far
off, like music played at-night for the ears of
others, and only half heard through a dream,
quite as though I had nothing to do with
them. I know L love the Hand under whose
, ,
corroction I lie, and yet,l am tossed with
cares and -anxieties .::that are taos'great for
me,—l;dilubt f oo , ,,not Him ; Cousin,but my
`self. '' -r Made - a frattil mistake, Which has
blasted ' niy life, -L-and •tlieirs. I must have
so. deceived myself. Why, why did I ever
imagine,myielf called to the holy ministry?
My presumption has been deservedly pun
ished 1". And this young man groanedialoud.
"Pear Robert had you been permitted
to stand at the - sacred desk, wltOm and what
would you hase preached?" '
,:".Can you ask, Cousin?W.hoiu, but
' Christ, and Him
,crucified?'"
" And. would' ft have 'been ivo - rcls alone,
'or a living; personal Saviourt , Ah, nay dear
boy, if you,• cannot appropriate the promises,
think not of them, but, fix your tlpughts
on - Him alone; 'true, ydn cannot trust, you;
cannot . understand,yourself, Id ;yoit can
,rpstie Aim.. If the .thoughts ; of your mo
'titer and sister disturb you; if you can find
ifeWnise` Volcogs;l4 i'. , Yolil 6bnaci'diiig-them,
Te..meg4riliiifohtlAW utakinci 4l 4P-Its per
fect sympathy,, and pnl4r,trusti
~t . ',Yolk cannot
d 6 ?.lie Work "ylitriitid pictiii&to t ~ybdirself ;
yet say, 'Lord, what wilt .ThisullratiStme to
do ?' Believe me, the answer will come!
His work is manifold, and._ if He will that
you shall still live, it must be for Him, and
in Him! ,Can any_life)s,e,a,liogeless wreck,
1 that is- i•iiidjwitiliefirial ilitGod #?-9;-!:-
"I- have been wrong, Cousin. I have
known that all along! I have tried to, pray
--q-od knows I have ! But my prayers - have
.. never"seemed to rise higher than 'my . -bead.
If any one had told me that I was practically
an infidel, I could not have credited it, but;
indeed, it has been true ! and it has required
this fearful providence to reveal _that truth
to me. Self has filled my view, instead of
ghrist—irid --. the Ero*cr I silIT
ptea‘hek: never yeti , peketrittel:*y
own heart."
TheJady here,checlteChina know4g that
be wai 'quite exhausted l'ilt"she 'slat silent
by him, in secret prayer for him-runtil / he
fell into a quiet-sletP(lThen she left hint,,
to bestow on his mother what comfort and
gssistarice'She
From the time of :this short conversation,
',there was a change in Robert's state. The
grace of God had accompanied his cousii's
simple words, and..cle.ar,„ed, awa,y4he strange
mist, the result in a great measure of pain
and anxiety, which;had obscured his spiritual
vision. He began to feel that life, the gift
of God in Christ; could not be aught but a
blessing; and, hat there, must be sow ething
still for him to 'de and to enjoy on earth,
else he would not be permitted to remain.
Every word of the Saviour's ha'a a new and
vivid signification, when viewed in the light
of His personal and living presence ; and
he reCognized the promise that is for this
life ,that now,is, as,well as that which is to
come, as standing high above all the chances
and changes, of -Time. The eotomand."-Re
joice eVermore," had troubled him, as'`O`ne
to which obedience seemed impossible; but
now that, by God's, help, he had cast aside
his fetters of unbelief, he learned that in all
things that formed part of his - inheritance,
he might, nay, it wa,s,his duty to take holy
and comforting delight. -With the dawn of
this new impression, he surprised his sister
Eva, on the morning following the conVersa
tion-above related, by"reciuesting her to, open
the windows, which in, his despairing - mood
Ile had always wished,dem&
It - Was done• and, the glorious daylight ,
the fitting emblem of God's boundless love,
poured out around us like a mighty, resist
less ocean, flooded his room with its cheering
rays, as though the sun rejoicA. in doing his
Master's pleasure for this child of sorrow.
The light, the pure, pleasant air, and the
tender care of his mother and sister, grad
ually restored some degree of health and
strength to Robert's frame ; although, he
remained. a - hopeless cripple, 'and almost a
helpless one. His cousin Margaret could not
long be spared from c her own home ' • but be
fore she left this little family, she had, more
than one conversation with 'the young rela
tive, the cheering influence of which remained
long after her presence was withdrawn.
Robert Earl was of too earnest a disposi
tion to remain long idle. For many months
the shock his nervous system had sustained
frOm the railroad tceident, forbade any men
tal application , whatever., 'Yet eine in this
time he was not inaetive. He had formerly
been fond of drawing s , and rather proficient
in the art ; ' as soon as he could be raised on
pillows , in , his bed,- he scontrived•to turn this
talent' to aCcount, and Thereby to assist' his
mother, in, ,adding to their,' limiied income.
She; for this end, had been - obliged to take
in plain sewing and knitting. , ;ln , the latter
work he shared', Wheri,una,bleto diatv. His
misfortune,, t and his
,che.prfulspirit , attracted
to at y . vii tors ;`: 'and i vtas
for sudh to giq : him occupied, with needles
and yarn, accounting no worktbeneath .hirn,
yea; esteeming it ;privilege 'to - be allovied to
do ; even this,,for Christ's sake. As he re
ed, he- gtad daily Wok 'Charge::bf 3lva's
education. The young girl had hitherto en
joyed only the advantages or'au' , indifferent
district, school. , Her , brother's misfortune
proved, iii one 'Sense '
a blessing to her, inas
much as it secured for her an education
based on the ‘ ,-4 - tay' true faundation ? whose
aiiirOilitiga, Was Christ ; 'a' principle,
too seldom, alas', carried Tit in - the training of
young people.- , -Eva was-an intelligent, lov
ing.girl, devoted to .her, .brother ; her corn-
PalnionshiP was delightful to him She talk
ed, and sang with him ? read'to link, and
. get,her they' devised plans for their' mother's
comfort, which Eva's active energy carried
0ut.,,. She was „often, also, his amanuensis ;
for as his health improved, Robert turned
the talents committed to him into the chan
nel of anthcirshig; so Alt,,from the unpre
tending horn in nearly all his life was
spent, went forth - silently winged words, like
carrier-doves set free, tearing messages - of
hope, truth and comfort to 'Many hearts. He
had-foutnt his life-work, and , diligently as was
possible - for one to whom fiaphysital strength
was denied, he performed- I•lirprivate4a
hors, he,was not deficient the kindly atten
tions :by alliWei4repaid with in
terest.
Every one, man, woman, or child,
who came within his influence, regarded . him
01e..a;,,' dear peritital WWI Wait Iferlfak„if
engaged in u,e,t ! ial . pastoral labor his advice
could scarcely have heeri — more - frequently
sought-, or more reverentiallyheeded.
He regarded it as a special :blessing, when,
after a few years, his cousin Margaret's hus
band removed to the little village in which
he lived. Thiiiir esiilted inihislaking partial
charge. of , the education
. of their two sons,
John and Ernest. "'Tie ' younger of these
two boys, Ernest, Witti:the j delighted assent
of h*paTeilo, - .rqseqe - a to deibte himself to
the minis' ry,ianaJtpbert had the - Ipleasni7oof
preparing,. hiin- :fora iCollege. The. peculiar
friendthipinibilstinebOtweerethe - mOthefaiid
4iktinii'ed in this boY' and it,'Was
dia.-yr:mg:maxi's -delight to repaj.to the son
the comiseliand
thr 184E44
r
It; was fate. (ilsk a )31ild gepteraberafternoon,
the= eve} - 4}F}Trnest'ir- } departure for:College.
RObeit'iriir were alone in the room of the
former. They been speaking Of Ernest's
•
prospects, and of his dmlediate practical
duties; but as 4.11,e twilight, gathered and
ifeeptried }- rimiad: them, - their - conversation
glidedintotheinducemeLt of deeper thoughts
and emotions;
"After all, cousin' obert," Said the boy,
"if I rshOuld'never be - alloirtil to become a
minister!. If," and he glanced at his cousin,
coloring, and half fearful that he had tonch
ed too rudely on a painful theme--then try
ing, with boyiSh iffection'and aliliwardness,
to .turn it off, hearrltled':
“You know
' There's a k diiinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-heiyiem as we inay.'”
"Far nobler, antrewe Christian4ike, dear
Ernest, those words whigkyour mother quoted
to me in this room ten yes ago," returned
Robert, smiling kindly, and,cheerfully, as he
perceived the boy's embarraisine,V,Rd easi
ly divined its cause, —"l He leadqh His
own by ways they know not.'"
'cbusin "Robert,r etclaimed the boy,
his- earnest -oyes fixed on- his friend's face,--1
" I wonder if I could ever endure and work
as youlhave'dOne, 41witye the!same, always
busyand cheerful ; you seem,never to despond,
who might find - so Mich reason'(
If you were called to such a lot, you
would receive grace for it, my dear boy
God spare you the trial—yet I thank Him
for it ; for He has- made clear to me already
much that was dark and Mysterious,—the
rest I shall understand above. I was not al
ways so cheerful. Onlra:few-blessed words
of your dear mother's brought me back from
the very verge of despair. She was God's
messenger to me; sent with no extraordinary
revelation,—only with the old truth, which
we hear so often, yet as if we heard it not,
that Christl is our Life;=--and - this being true,
the life that we lead in Him by faith, must flow
on in its appointed channel,= never impeded,
but always aided by outward circumstances,
be they as perplexing as they may. I have
never been quite free from inward struggles,
but He has given me grace through all
things to hold fast to this truth,—and now
the bitterness of that trial is quite gone. It
has pleased the Father, too, to let me carry
out my wish, though not in my own way. I
have never forgotten my early vows ; I have
striven to do His work, and been blessed
with a greater share in it than I dared hope.
Even my worldly affairs, He has cared-for,
and I have had the joy of working for my
loved ones, often in weakness and pain, it is
true,—but that has only sweetened the sacri
fice,,for Christ hath ,suffered ;—and I praise
Him, they have never known want. Mine
is a happy, happy said RobOt,looking
thoughfully out where afar, the itars,giearri
ed-out one by one " in the infinite meadow's
of heaven."—B. H. S. in Ref. Church Areg7
senger. '
MY BROTHERS.
True poetry has been defined ; by, Mr. James Rus
sell Lowell as , • ~• . -
i*Suthin'•combinin? morril truth
With phrases'sech as strikes,"
.
though perhaps Mister Lowell, didn't exactly mean
that as his, definition of, poetry., .lu. the following
little,gern there are. moral truths and striking phra
ses. • Itis from thspeu of Mrs. Lashin,•gton = a most
charming i persqn—wife of the emfuent, y r oces § oi : pf
'Greek in the pniyersity of ,Glasgow, and sister. pf
Mr. : Tennyson. was addressed to, some of her
Americap cirper's Magazine. .1
To - loving hearts my soul draws near
And he they sad, or gay, or ifueer,
Most warmly are they welcomed here--
bly brothers
Great hearts with syinPatliies most keen
'Sail hearts withaSpe'ct.'s more serene, .
.Whose depth ofrtears is hever,seen
, . y ro
WhO yet enjoy the wholesome 'jest,
The hearty laugh , with honesit zest;
And for in hour the+ leave the iest~
Whatever phase theii minds may take, • -
Whatever moods their souls may ehtike;
I love them'fdr their true-heart's sake--
' ^ My brothers.'
And yet they rest not here, ah I no,
Such souls must ever onward go,
E'en unto weal and-unto - woe.
_ , Mv brothers.
Ah heavenward say we—struggleori
' work'•t
Brave hear s; untilyour be one,
By violence is the kingdom won— .
My brother&
'COMPENSATION.
"I have read," says the author of a re
_
cent' work, "a beautiful illustratiOn of this
point: A lady, travelling in Europe,..yisited
with,her brother, a town in Germany, and
took lodgings with a remarkable .couple .an:
aged man and lady.. `They-were. hifsband ;
and wife. They lived-by themselves, -with:
out child, or servant, subsisting on the rent
accruing from Ole lease of i tbeir • parlor
and two sleeping rooms. The,:ladY, in gii
iftg an account of the persons, says :.`When
we knocked at the; door for adniittance, the!
-two aged persons answered the:knock-to
gether. When we rang the bell in our rooins,
the husband - and wife invarialidycarne,' - side'
by Side. And Ont. requesiti . and t derdands
were received by both, and Rxecuted with the
utmost nicety and.exactness. The first night,
having arriv.ed late by the coach, and.mere
ly requiring- a , good ftre, and our tea, we
were puzzled to understand the reason of
this douste atte'ndance. -When the time to
retire cantle', the lady was, surplise& to, see
both the husband and wife attending her to
her chamber, and,. on looking, with 110T11e
seriousness, towards the husband, the wife,
noticing her„embarrissment,;said to her :
-'No offence is intended, Madame, my hus
band is stone blind.' The lady began"to syrn
pa,thize.. With the aged matron on the
great misfortune of having a husband, quite
blind. The blind man exclaimed: It is use
less for you, madam, to speak to my wife,
for she is entirely deaf, and hears not a
word you say.' Says theladyibearder, here
was an' exemplification of the Divine law of
compensation. Could a pair be better match
ed ? They were indeed 'one flesh' lie saw
through her eyes, and she heard through his
ears: Ever after, it was most interesting , t o
me to watch the aged man and his
,aged
partner in their complete inseparablenep.
Their sympathy with each other was as
swift as eleetricity 2 -and this made their de--
priiation as nothing.",
SHAKESPEARE'S MORALITY.
. ,
EipinOirn,es jag an ,iolgeach
ment of Shlkspeare's , morality that he does
:not encourage virtue by making it always
successful, nor discountenance vice by al-
WayS 'defeatinc , its , aims. The' - 'innocent
often Sall veer' the• machinations bflthe
guilty, and the, guilty often txiugiPh on tAle,
ruins otinnocence. -And are we then to r,e
duce virtue and vice "dOwn to anaiithme
trZal calculation of profit and loss? And'dizi
we l s expect a system 4f in-which tem
poratlnterest and duty are identical. If we
are moßl, 'Merely fors wages, then we - !?add
hypocriskto Selfishness, and deserve tolail.
If we would of rather i dixy with Pesdemona
than live_ and flourish as lago, the Mire
pity for us. Truth and :virtue' - never Offer
to conipiOnlitiinWith as, to insure as success;
in return for onrakopiage. It is not virtue,
but that old Serpent the Devil, that prom
ises us thrones and)kingdoms, full parses
and fine dinners, if vo .will butt': fall:dow n
and worship him. Tile poetry or philoso
4111y,_whicl represeAs_vilrtae and' vice as
sure of present recompense is a lie; and; as
sash, can only coin 4 Islirepily ;or indirectly
of the Father of Lies.
Shakspeare, rightly udderstood and test
ed, has shown a 'degree,of moral purl, ty,
which wc have few examples in literature:
Indeed, we can hardly. egard 'as
gant eulogy, the declaration of Mrs. Mon
tague—" that he was one of the ": , reatu,t
moral philosophers that ever lived." lliq
morals, moreover, have such a savor of Di
vine truth, that they furnish proof of his
own mind having been deeply imbued with
the pure morality of the,Gospel.
In the great world o.l` woman, Sbakspeare
stands not the first only, but is yet the sole
authentic oracle of trail!. In nothing, per
haps, does he so deeply and divinely touch
the heart of humanity, as in the representa
tion of woman.. Nest to the Bible, ho is
the best benefactor of womankind; for, next
to:the Bible, be.bas done' most towards ap
preciating what woman-is, and towards in
structing her what she should be. " His
writings contain at once the reality and the
apotheosis of womanhood. incompar
able depth, and delicacy, and truthfulness,
with, whir h he has exhibited the female
character, ; are worth tnore than all the, lee
tures on social ,taorakity, the world has ever
;curious, that so few,
even of intelieetnal women, care about read
ing hire- Wo.were, smewhat, amused at i a
lecturer, recoin m end ing. the-yogn.g. ladi es, of
4,Tetciale Seminary ; ,, to, read the. Bible,and
*balkspe,are. rec.-
.oguapead Oen' to r 2 eact.,the _Bible, and it
.w0A 14 4 .11r9bkiblY 49.4flt,Aikrm o_„.mention
Slnkspeare, for it ii,amt likely pae•, put of
ten. mould iheed-10E1 -reeommPlaclaPictn• • Of
all ; the Antellectual,. r-s4nz ; ladies ,we • have
kno.ti n, wean thinkpf I:•utp,napr,two that
,ever read, Shalisp,eare-w i ith.any spirit or en
thusiparnic, Bat,..sti4 we. should, feel some
lbogitanPYAni guying, thAisc.o l 4 l 4_te_ ree-
Pxnmandatipyi yonagi jadiee,.tp, read Shak
ep,eaKeik?r wa.dopotfbelksvie it isia suitable
;book, fi!r all.,readers.—Zuttteraa. Observer.
.111 tl.'
gappiao :or, ,W4.-XLAND.
[Front the Life.pulastked 11y, Sheldon and Co.]
"Iryoulearn- doitis muck w IEI one
day as yon used. told, iti t l / 2 .os;oYsthiee days,
- s iren are as good.,aa,two ll or three l sucti men,
as you formerly werc),,bolled-d?r) to one."
An incident related by hi's pilitor hap
pily illustrates his habits . of
,studyi—" Dar
yeatit Iwas.ifisliastor, with an
frediland'yet,never but
ionce did'l'vehtnre tolnr.ttude.on his morn
ing And, 'Choicest, lithdrohbutd. ;I- Knowing
;the - annoyOce he felt qttr the briefest inter
•at- Andli times,LE-that fie eften studied
with locked door,or .did not :respond when
-solieited,—Llv ba regarded his
wishei3. But nedessity '‘lctepws'ilo rule. I
rapped at the door .of l.his study' =when he
. wag most soeluded.: Therst ,was no response.
then,,gave thp .!..FsagliAtOr Still no
answer. .Satisfied, that, she was ,within, and
that; if, he, kne* he
. w,c•ald NV 1-
CQI3IO me,, I,.add l ressedhip:by aame
_saying,
Dn., Wayland, I.,must !see Top ! ! !DI!). this he
replied io la,gontle„tone,.,-,‘ ; Come in, Pastor.'
opened the door. .CrosAingSt4e*threshold,
I found him, pen in hand,AttandiggNirh his
back to the little lig o lit which crept through
the shutters nearly closed. In this room,
thus darketnill liSibikingl.7lll
My brothen.
He was . At, ease when not aeti ly
Rloyed; as-.he once'sai4 fintilWn;n e o - th s i
a most ialsoiiiMs:andii‘
ness:" 1--IA9-con.B.lxtaing I)4E_
"In the early:part of:thereBentirebellion,
one-of my frienderwhe- tad-Keen for a few
year's captain °fit- first-Wass ',merchant ves
sel, 'wls anxious tosOAtiNs';atnie ,i ' appoint
ment from :the. naval deliartmen,,t; n which
his seamanshiP Might ~be of. , pervice to his
country. I introduced him to Dr. Wayland,
thinking-that a - recomialindatioa;from such
source would materially appist , triy. friend
in, his patricitiepurposlei` arid; then,' after
some words of4xfilareatioiNl44 ,i iired, leaving
them in earnest con,yopation. l , When I
next saw this aspirant ,for naval promotion,
What sort of.la --man is Dr. Way
land ? I supposed he:- , was only a clergy-
Man i • but I never ',eased 'sodltere and
leatcbing an examinatien - about everything
that , belonmto, my, proTeision,..its a sailor.
He. seems to know, ,everything" about a
ship.' "
I am not surprised at the election of Mr.
Pierce, but I am surprised the greatness of
hip majority. I gave the 'Whig.-leaders
more credit for 'forettiought;.apd; common
sense than they deserved: T espurrendered
principle, and tried,avai4blifity. ; .They have
lorit election, principle r .hortot ; , and. all. I
dorrider that there .iefnew ; no. Whig party.
.They have no . prineipleio-to which they ad
here and profess none of any power in op
position to the DeutoOriq:',They cannot make
,another stand." The 'neit meye will be a
division of the Dernooptis; f and this will
again give an opportunity for; choice. I
think you may safely ,lock - -`upon' the - Whig
- party as defu net. When JtofferOjiwas elected,
Hamilton 'adirined - thir'l ll 4detalista to dis
band,_W, unite „with' ' t e heat part of the
not
Democrats. They' did not folroVi his advice,
but died by inches, until ,he very name be
eame a word of reproaph."
" You will learn,-before long, that politi
ticians are generally - anfrong tlie .. stnpidest
and most mole-sighted Of - men - .,. - It must be
so,Tor they are preTeminently - Selfish.
"Mr. ARdnboo is,here,, l and .c have screwed
ornithorogioal courage up to the stick
ing-point of one hundted dollars. J. had
great misgivings aato the - matter of duty.
One hundred dollarsis atousiderable talent,
arid I doubted'Whether'l had 'a 'tight thus
to - iiippropriate it. Ro*ts* - er, T,niikde out a
view of the case that satisfied If seemed
to•me that so complete , and -beautiful an ex
hibition of' this,portion of the. works of God
ought to be procured,.and on 'this ground I
thought I was justified =in' purchasing tba
work. lam much pleafied - with Audubon's
morallemper. He seems habitually to re
fer what he sees„to the wisdom and good
lien of God`.' think. hi, "would hardly
agree with the notion of ,our friend 8., that
creation is no Troof of the being of a Creator.
Talking - Co lint of anim'als;'l 'said, '~The
- buffalo is certainly veryzatupid? ' "Stupid'.'
sahibs; 'man is' the 'only stupid animal I
ever saw.' i. rt "4,