El
16qtrq.
"ONLY WAITING,",
fr k r"..., A . very aged man in an alms-house was asked
whin ho was doing? Ile replied "ONLY W . !"
• a
Only waiting till the stiliktvws
Are it little longer growl?.
Only waiting till the glimmer
or the day's last beam is flown ;
Till the night of earth is faded
From the heart, once full of day:
TiThro ll t L dars of II eaVell are breahiug
ugh the twilight oft and grey
Only walling till the reapers
Have the last sheaf gathered home,
For the summer time is laded.
And the autumn winds have come;
QUickly, reapers! gather quickly
The last ripe hours of toy heart,
For the 1,100111 of life Is wit heed,
And 1 hasten to depart.
Only waiting till the angels
Open wide the mYstie gate,
At whose - feet I long have lingered,
Weary poor and desolate,
Even now I hear their filotsteps
And their voices far away ;
If they call me I am wailing,
Only waiting to obey.
Only waiting fill the shadows
Are a 11Olir4onger grown,
Only wait lag t ill the glimmer
. Of.the day's last beam is 11..:
Then from out the gathering darkness
I loly deathless star, shall
Ity whose light Toy soul shall gladly
Tread its pathway to the skies.
rlrrt (ulr
THE ELDEST DAUGHTER
ItY SiGot"IINEY
As the importance of education becomes
'tore and more appreciated by the people.
he difficulty of obtaining well qualiffisl
teachers, is pmyortionably realized. For
igners may he porloundly learned, or highly
accomplished, but the political and moral
dioms of oar Republic are to be stfalied,
and the mind in some measure weaned from
established trains of thought, ere it can as•
:iimilate with those whom it is expected to
modify. The inhabitants of diffi.rent sec
tions of our own 1. 7 1d0n, must subniii in
t , oine degree. to the same subjugating pro
cess. The northern youth,' who engages in
the business of instruction at the sunny
south, perceives a necessity of conforming to
new usages, ere he can be in harmony with
those around. Evan natives of different por
tions of the State, must take pains to adapt
themselves to a new neighborhood. or family
where they are to operate, if they would hope
their efforts to be attended with full success.
Is it understood, that in every family of
brothers and sisters, there is' a teacher whom
it is not necessary to naturalise as a foreign
er? or as a stranger to incite to sympathy?
While she aids intellectual progress, her
influence on the disposition and manners—
her moral' and religious suasion, are still
more visible and enduring. She enjoys and
reciprocates, the love of those who receive
her lessons. Year after year, she continues
her ministrations.,-'
It will be evident, that I speat of the
eldest daughter. Her sytnrmthy with her
pupils must doubtless he greater than that of
other teachers. They ate her hone, and her
flesh.—They comae to her -with more freedom
than even to the parent; so that the extent
of her sway is is not easy either to limit or
to compute.
Many excellent elder daughters has -it
b3en my good fortune to know, who realised
their responsibility to the Grt;at Teacher,
and were filled with tenderness to the mo
ther, whose mission they partook, and to the
dear ones wholooked to them for an example.
I think, at this moment, Of one who was the
light and life of a largo circle of little ones.
They hung, on the lineaments of her sweet
countenance, and imbibed joy. From her
lovely, winning manners, they fashioned their
own. If temporary sadness stole over them,
she,knew the approach to their hearts, and
her sweet music, and sweeter words cheered
them back to happiness. If there were
among them exuberance of mirth, or symp
toins of lawlessness, or indications of dis
cord, she clothed herself with the temporary
dignity of the parent, and prevailed. When
sickness was among them, no eye, save that
of the mother, could so long hold waking as
hers. No other arm was so tirelessin sus
taining the helpless form, or the weary head.
'The infant seemed to have two mothers, and
•
to be in doubt which most to love. 'Often,
in gazing on het. radiant countenance, I said
mentally—" What a preparation are you giv
ing yourself for ' your own future : duties.—
Happy the man' who shall be permittvd to
appropriate to himself such a treasure."
Still, at her joyous. bridal, there was sor-
row; the tears of the little sisters, They
clasped
,her in their tiny arms—they would
scarcely be persuaded to. resign her. After
they had retired to rest, they were heard
lamenting—.
"Who now will sing us songs when we are
sad? and tench us such plays as, made us
wiser and better? Now ; when• we tear our
..roe'cs, who will help us to mend them? and
when we are • naughty; who will bring u 3
back to goodness?
I have seen another elder daughee; to
whose sole care, a feeble mother committed
one of her little ones. With what' warm
gratitude, with what a sublime purpose, did
she accept the'sacred gift. She opened her
young heart to the new occupant. She took
the babe to her room—she lulled it to sleep
on her bosom — it shared her couch. Soon .
its lisping tones mingled with her supplica
tions. " She fed the unfolding mind With the
gentlest dews of piety—"the small rain upon
the tender herb." From her it learned to
love the Bible, the Sabbath, and persevcr
:nice in the path that leads to heaven. And
it was early taken there. In the arms of
that eldest sister its soul was rendered up.
But not until it had given proof; for a few
years of happy childhood, that it was one of
the lambs of theSavioitr's flock. Afterwards
I saw that same eldest daughter in a family
of her own. To heighten the happiness, and I
elevate the. character of those around her,
were her . objects. And she knew' how, for
she had learned it before. Thorough expe
rience in the culture of the disinterested
affections, gave her an immense vantage
ground, fur the new duties of a wife and
mother. They were performed With ease to
herself, and were beautiful in the eyes of oh
servers. The children of others were en:
trusted to her husband to he educated, and
she became a mother to them. And I could
not but bless the Given of every good and
twrfeet gift, that the hallowed influences to
which that eldest daughter had given such
exorcise wider the paternal roof, might no w
go lorthinto the bosom of strangers, take, !
root in distant homes; and perhaps, in an- I
other hemisphere, or in an unborn age, bring
forth• the - fruits of immortality.
The assistance which tear be afforded to
parents, by the eldest daughter, is invaluable.
What other hand could so effectually aid
them, in the great work of training up their
- children to usefulness and piety? Filial
gratitude is among the noblest motive to this
enterprise. Many young ladies have been
thus actuated to beedine the instructors in
I different. branches, of their brothers and
sisters or regularly to study their lessons with
them, and hoar them recite, ere they went to
their stated teache'is; or to assume the whole'
charge of their classical instruction.
I was acquainted with au elder sister, who
every morning, when the younger children
were about to depart to their separate BCIIOOIB,
'ook them into a room by themselves, and
mparted most kindly and seriously such ad.
:ice, admonition, or encouragement, as had
t visible effect on their moral conduct, in
mabling them both to resist temptation, and
io be steadfast in truth and goodness.
But I have been much affected with the
history of one, who amid circumstances of
peculiar trial, was not only to those younger
than herself, but to her parents, and especi
ally to her widowed and sorrowing father, as
a guardian angel.
It is more than a century since ligede, a
nativic, of Norway, moved with pity for the
benighted Greenlanders, left a pleasant abode,
and an affectionate- flock, to become -their
missionary. his wife, and four young chit.
dren accompanied him. Their privations
and "hardships, it is difficult either to de
scribe or to - imagine, amid an ignorant, de
graded people;and in that terrible climate,
where rayless darkness is superadded to the
bitter frost of winter, so that it is necessary
to shrink into subterranean cells aid feed
incessantly the train-oil, lamp, lest the spark
of life should be extinguished.
Little Ulrica saw her mother continually
sustaining and cheering her father, amid
labors which long seemed to be without
hope. She heard her read to him by the
glimmering never dying lamp, from the few
books ,they had brought from their hither
land. She observed how cheerfully she de
nied herself, fur the sake of others, and with
what a sweet smile she discharged her daily
duties. She perceived that light and warmth
might be •kept within the soul, while all
around was dark and desolate, and gave her
young heart to the God from whom such
gills. proceeded.
When the sun, after long absence, once
more appeared over the icy wastes, glorious,
as if new-created, and in a few moments
sank again beneath the horizon, the miysio•
nary and his wife, sometimes climbed the
high rocks, to meet the herald beams, and to
welcome their first, brief visit. Ulrica, fol
lowing in their footsteps, with the children,
earnestly incited them to love and revere the
Great Being, who called forth that wondrous
orb. with a word, and sent him on errand's of
mercy to the earth, and to the children of
men. ,And when the light Of a summer
whose sun never set, was around them, and
the few juniper and birch trees , letinied out
into sudden iblinge, and the reindeer brows
ed among the - mus.fe.:l, and the long Ca}'
tgartisle
which knew no evening, fell upon the senses
with a sort of oppressive brightness, she
sometimes led her little sister to the shore of
the solemn gea, and . raising her in her arms,
as some far seen iceberg towered along in
awful majesty, bade her to fear and obey the
God who ruled' the mighty deep, and all that
is therein.
The mother was the teacher of her Ail
dren. Especially, during the long solitude
of the Greenland winters, was it her busi
ness and pleasure to form their minds, and
to fortify them against ignorance and evil.
-Llriea drank the deepest of this lore. Often
while the younger ones slept., did she listen
delighted to the legends of other days, and
bow herself to the spirit of • that blessed
Book, which speaks of a clime where there
is no sterility, or tempest, or tear. When
the father, accompanied by the son, older
than herself; was abroad in the duties of his
vocation, among the miserable inhabitants of
the squalid cabins, Ulrica sat at the feet of
her mother, sole auditor, surrendering to her
her whole heart. But what she learned was
treasured fur , the little brother and sister.
Every. lesson wits carefully pondered, and
broken into fragments, for their weaken com
prehension. She (Whit out to them dairy
pdrtions of knowledge, as the bread from
'Karen. She, poured it out warily, like water
in the wddern'ess, bidding them "drink and
live."
1 •
It was in the spring of 1733, that the poor
Greenlanders were visited by a wasting epi•
detnic. The small pox broke out among
Ithem with a fury which nothing. 'could with
stand. Egede assuming the betatvolent office
of physician, was continually among them.
Ale gave-medieines_to the infected; and MA .
and 'day, besoug.ht the„ dying to look unto the
"Lamb of God who tlieth away the sin of
the world. - Dwelling after dwelling was left
empty and desolate, and the populationLal
ways thin, in that sterile clime, melted away,
as snow before the vernal sun. Orphlins fled
to their pastor for shelter, ^and sick, to 'be
nursed amid healed. Every part of his house
was a hospital, where the sufferers lay thick
ly, side by side. Some, who had been his
open enemies, and coitrsely reviled his coati
selsi were there; frightful agonies, so-bloat
ed attil disfigured as scarcely to retain a Yes
lige of Ituntanity. One of them, when re
-q.vg,r.ltt,g,same to hith with a penitent and
broken spirit, confessing the worth of that
religion which could enable him thus to Bless
his.persei.:uturs.
Through this fearful calamity, which lasted
for many mouths, the wife of Egede, with her'
children, patiently and kindly tended the sick,
wlio thronged their habitation. But when the
judgment was withdrawn, and health re-visi
ted the invalids, and among the diminished
number of survivors, were indications of that
religious sensibility which More than repaid
all her toils, she herself became the victim of
suddeti decline. "Death has...come for me,"
she said to her husband. "In the_,cold cup
whit•h he presses to my lips, there is no bit•
terness, save that I must leave you, while
your desires for the conversion of our people
are unaccomplished." To Ulrica, her con.
stant_nurse, tireless ..both...might_and.da.y r she
committed the younger children, towards
whom she had so long evinced a sweet com•
bieation'of sisterly and maternal care. She
heard these little ones wailing around her
bed, and comforted them with the 'tope,
wherewith she was herself comforted of God.
She dictated messages of holy love, to her
eldest son, who pursuing his theological stn.
dies in Denmark, she must no more embrace
on earth. And so, in that lone Greenland
hut, she met 'the last enemy, and with the
grasp and struggle, mingled a hymn of vic
tory arid praise.
Around her grave, there stood only the
lone missionary and his three children. He
was borne down and bewildered by this ter
rible visitation. In all his forms of adversi•
ty, and they had been many, it did not ap
pear to have entered his imagination, that
the beautiful being, sb much younger than
himself, so firin in health, so fresh in spirit,
who front early 'youth - had been to him, as
another soul of strength and hope, Should be
taken, and he left alone. Then it was, that
Ulrica realized, that her sacred charge com
prised not only the motherless children, but
the sorrowing parent. Asking strength from
above, to tread in the footsteps of her saint
ed mother, she came forward, and gave her
aria firmly to the bereaved man, who, like a
reed shaken by the blast, wavered to and fro,
on the verge of the yawning, uncovered
grave, where lay the lifeless form of his idol
ized companion. It was most touching to
see the fragile nature of a beautiful young
girl; gird itself both "to shelter the blossom
and to Prop the tree which the lightning had
scathed.
Suppressing her own grief, she taxed ever
energy to soot lie and comfort her father.
Strongly resembling her mother, in person
she had the sit* clear, blue eye, the samb
profuse, flaxen hair,•tlie same mild, yet re
solfed cast of features. So much like 'hers,
also, were the 'sweet, inspiring tones of her
voice, that the poor bereaved sometimes start
ed from his reverie, with a wild hope, that
sank hut in deeper dejection. Hourly, it was
her study to minister to his comfort. Care
fully did she provide his raiment, and when
he went forth, so wrap his furs about him, as
to defend him from the cold, for he scented
less nssidnoos than fortnefly to guard his own
health and life. She spread his humble board
as her mother had been accustomed to spread
it ; but often, when she urged him to take
refreshment, he was as one who heard not,
gild bowed himself down to pray. Then she
knelt softly by his side, and her supplications
ascended with those of the deeply-stricken
soul. lie would sit"for hours in silence, with
his.head resting upon his bosom, or during
their long, long evening, gaze motionless on
the scat, which his best beloved had so long
occupied. Amazed at the weight., and endu
rance of his grief, the yotinger children, who
often strove to waiton and cheer him,asthey
had seen their mother do, sobbed forth their
sorrows, as if they ,anew bade her farewell.
But Ulrica never faultered, was never dis
couraged, though her heart was pierced at
his despair,
One morning her voice sounded in his enr
like that of an angel; Dear father; dear fa
ther! your son is here!" And the next mo
ment the ytmng missionary, Paul Egede,
rushed into his arms.
Ile had returned from Europe, his.educa
lion completed, to share in the labors of his
thther. Scarcely had he embraced his sis
k!ni, crc the bereaved pirrent
"Come forth, my son, and see the grave of
your mother. Let me hear you . pray there.'t
The re-union with his first born, and the
tender assiduities of Clrica, aided by the
blessing of heaven, began to lift up his br:oken
spirit. Ile employed himself in his parochial
- tliitics, particularly in translating into the rude
dialect of Greenland, siniple treaties, and ca
techisms, which he circulated as widely as
possible among his people. He accepted
with kindness the attention of his children,
and spoke tenderly to them; but it was evi•
lent that he looked for consolation only to
yards heaven, and to .the hope of meeting
Ills beautiful kindred spirit, where they could
be sundered no more
Three years of his mournful widowhood
had past, when a request came from the king
of Denmark, that 'he would no longer exile
himself, but return, and accept a professor
ship in a newly founded seminary for orphan
students.
Infirm health admonished him that lie could
not much longer hope to resist, the severity ,
of a Greenland climate, and bidding an af
fectionnte adieu to the people, among whom
he had so painfully labored, and entrusting
them to the care of his eldest son Paul, he
committed himself, with his three remaining
children, to the tossing of the northern deep.
What joyous wonder filled their young hearts
at the prospect of a country where there was
no long night, where the grain would have
time to ripen, erli the frosts came, and where
they might be able to on-the surface of
the earth, the whole year.
A return to the blessings of chillization,
the warm welcome of friends, and the re•
kindling of 'early, healthful associations, re
newed the spirit of Egede, and gave him
vigor fur the. duties that devolved upon him.
Ulricn was in his path, as an ever-gliding
sunbeam, while the pleasures of intellectual
society, with the heightened advantages for
educating her brother and 'sister, tilled her
heart with delighted gratitude, and added new
radiance ro her exceeding beauty. Her early
history and Peculiar virtues excited the inter
est of all around, while the loveliness of her
person and manners won Many admirers.—
Yet she steadfastly resisted every allurement
to quit her father, sensible that his enfeebled
constitution required those attentions which
she best knew how to bestow ; and the holy
light which beamed from her eyes, while thus
devoting herself to him, and to his cliildren,
revealed the exquisite:happiness of disinter
ested virtue. •
But it was not long ere Egedo was con
vinced that the approaching infirmities of age
demanded repose. llr,therefore, retired to
a lovely eottsge in the island of Falster, sepa
rated from 'Zealand by only a narrow chan
nel of the sea. There, amid the rural scen
ery which he loved, - and - in_the tbithful dis
charge of every remaining duty of benevo
lence and piety, he calmly awaited the sum
mons to another life. {Arica read to him
that sacred Book which was his solace, for
his failing sight was no longer equal to this
office ; and no voice entered his ear so readi
ly, and so much like a,song-bird, as her own.
With the help, of her brother and sißter, she
et:titivated a small garden, and it was Wadi
, :1
ing to see them , in a dewy summer's morr;
bearing his arm-chair out among his favorite
plants, and aiding, his tottering steps to a
seat among tlienk. . ,
There, dignified and peaceful, like the pa-
triarch beneath the oaks of Mature, lie corn- \
mulled with the works of God, or gave les
sons of tvisdom to his descendants. Every
new shoot, each tendril that, dnring the ktight ,•
had thrust feather onward its little, clasping
hand were to• him as living friends. The
freshness of a perpetually renewed creation
seemed to enter into his aged heart and pre
serve there somewhat of the lingering spirit
of youth, while the clay tended dowitward to
ward the dust. When neither his staff nor
the arms of his children could longer sup
port his drooping form, and he went no . more
forth amid the works of nature, Ulrica brought
her fairest flowers to his pillow and duly
dressed the vase on the table by his bedsid )
anethis dim eye blessed her. Thither, with
slow 1 -- " - . downy footstep, death stole, and
Ulrica, ova rooming the emotion that swept
over her, li to deep billows, girded herself to
, t\
sing the hymn with which lie had been wont
to console the dying; and when his parting •
smile beamed forth, and the white lips, for
the last time, murmured "pence," she pressed
her trembling hand ou his closing eyes, sooth
eil the wild burst of grief of the waifjng chil
dren, and kneeling down; in her orphan bit
terness, commanded thsim to that pitying
Father who never dies. .
It was affecting to see her forgetting her
own sorrow when.others were to be cheered
or cared for, and attending with a clear a ind
to every duty, however min to ; hut when
there was no longer any thing for her to do,
her _brother .antl sister had retired to their
apartmetrts, she leaned her beautiful head on
the corpse of the old man, and wept as if the
very fountains of her soul were broken uf.
She made the spot of his lowly slumber 'del - ,
sant with summer foliage and with the hardy
evergreen. She planted the grass• mound
with the enduring chamomile, which rises
sweeter from the pressing foot or hand, and
the aromatic thyme, which allures the si.ng
ing bee. There, titthe eloseuf day, she often
went with her brother and sister, enthrcing
preceipts of that piety which had led their
beloved: -father through many trials, to rest
with his dear Redeemer.
Once, as she returned from her mournful,
vet sweet visit to the grave, she was met by
Albert, the young, dark-eyed clergyman of a
neighboring village, who drew her arm with
in his own. It would seem that his low, mu
sical voice, alluded to h theme not unfamiliar
to her ear.
"Ulrica, why should
, you impose a longer
probation on• my faithful love'? He to whom
you have been as an angel, is now with the
spirits of just men made perfect. Dearest,
let my home hencefbrth be yours. and this
brother and siter mine."
The trembling lustre of her full, blue eyes,
met those of Albert in tenderness and trust.
His ple'asant anti secluded parsonage gained
a treasure beyond tried gold ; for she who,
as a daughter and sister, had so long been a
model of disinterested 'goodness and piety,
could norltiir -- co Sits tat ityan i
beauty, the hallowed relations' of a wife-awl
mother.
Humboldt
Among the brilliant corps of -- ticientitic
men who adorn Europe at the present day is
one acknowledged chief, who towers over all
others. This is the venerable Alexander
Von Humboldt who at the age of fourscore
and five years, still prosecutes with vigor and
success his researches in the broad domains
of science. A writer in Blackwood's Maga
zine thus describes the eminent philosopher:
"Age—it's slightly upon his active head."
Still lull of recorded facts and thoughts, he
labors daily in committing float to the pagt
tier the grave he tells you, Waits him early
now, and lie must finish what lie has to do
before lie dies. And yet he is as full, at the
same time, of the discoveries and new thoUghts
of others,, and as eager as the young student
of Nature gathering up fresh threads of knowl
edge, and in following the advances of tie
various departments of natural science. And
in so doing it is characteristic of his getter
oui mind to estimate highly the labors of
others to encourage the young an d as pi r i ng
investigator, to whatever department of Nt.-
ture he may be devoted, and to aid him with
his counsel, his influence and his sympathy.
We found him congratulating himself on the
posseSsion of a power with which few scien
tific men are gifted, that of making science
popular of drawing to himself; and to, the
knowledge he had to diffuse, the regard aid
attentiim of the misses of the people in hi::
own and other countries, by a clear meth( d
and an attractive style.
Ilumbolt resides in Berlin. Ile is repre
sented as having a lofty, massive brow, which
ns it overarches hiireflecting,observing eves.
seems at first sight almost too large for the•
dimensions of the body
. and the general size
of them itself. his massive chin is indica
tive of a rare tenacity Of purpose, of a pci.-
severance which, for a long lire has enabled
him unceasingly to augment the fieetunnla
teal knowledge of his wide experience, and as
COlit11111011k: to stripe to spread it titia:O.