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MISCELLANY NO. I. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTION 
 
 OP 
 
 POEMS AND PIECES, 
 
 DESIGNED FOR THE USE OF 
 
 FIRST DAY SCHOOL LIBRARIES. 
 
 PRINTED FOE JOSIAH JONES, SOUTH CHINA, ME. 
 
 AUGUSTA; 
 
 RUSSELL EATON, PBIXTER 
 
MISCELLANEOUS COLLECTION, 
 
 ADDRESS TO CHILDREN AND YOUTH. 
 
 DEAR CHILDREN : Although you have not 
 lived long in the world, you may have seen 
 enough to convince you that this world is not a 
 long continued home for us. Occurrences take 
 place almost claily, which show that time with us 
 is very uncertain ; the young as well as old are 
 visited by death, and called to their everlasting 
 home. An endless eternity is before us, into 
 which we must all go, sooner or later. It there- 
 fore becomes you to enquire into your condition 
 and accountability, in reference to your present 
 and eternal welfare. Even in this life, the 
 righteous have great advantage beyond the wick- 
 ed in substantial enjoyment. 
 
 The Holy Scriptures contain an invaluable 
 store of knowledge and instruction, about what 
 relates to this life and that to come. Let me 
 entreat you therefore to give up your minds to a 
 serious perusal and patient examination of these- 
 inspired writings ; if you do so in sincerity, you 
 may hope for the help of the Spirit of Truth, to 
 enable you to understand' to profit. 
 
 A faw plain yet very important matters, you 
 
may always bear in mind ; no sinner can go to 
 heaven in his sins ; nothing impure or denied is 
 admitted into that holy and happy place ; you 
 must be converted, or you cannot be saved. 
 The terms of salvation are to believe in the 
 Lord Jesus Christ ; to repent of your sins, and 
 forsake them ; and follow Him, by the help of 
 his grace, to do his will. 
 
 Submit yourselves in kindness and seriousness 
 to your parents and teachers ; observing their 
 desires concerning you ; shrink not "from the 
 necessary Christian discipline, in words and con- 
 duct ; and you* will assuredly feel yourselves 
 more than rewarded for all the self-denial you 
 may be called upon, by the restraining spirit of 
 the love of Christ, to undergo. 
 
 THOUGHTS ON RETIRING TO REST. 
 
 It is good, when we lay on the pillow our head 
 And the silence of night all around us is spread, 
 To reflect on the deeds we have done thro' the day, 
 Nor allow it to pass without profit away. 
 
 A day what a trifle ! and yet the amount 
 
 Of the days we have passed form an awful account ; 
 
 And the time may arrive when the world we would 
 
 give, 
 Were it ours ? might we have but another to live. 
 
In whose service have we through the day been 
 
 employed 1 
 
 And what are the pleasures we mostly enjoyed ? 
 Our desires, and our wishes to what did they tend ? 
 To the world we are in, or the world without end? 
 
 Hath the sense of His presence encompassed us 
 
 round, 
 
 Without whom not a sparrow can fall to the ground ? 
 Have our hearts turned to him with devotion most 
 
 true, 
 Or been occupied only with things that we view ? 
 
 Have we often reflected how soon we must go, 
 To the mansions of bliss, or the regions of woe? 
 Have we felt unto God a repentance sincere, 
 And in faith to the Savior of sinners drawn near? 
 
 Let us thus with ourselves solemn conference hold, 
 Ere sleep's silent fetters our senses enfold, 
 And forgiveness implore for the sins of the day, 
 Nor allow them to pass unrepented away. 
 
 THE WISH AND THE PRAYER. 
 
 BY ELLWOOD. 
 
 that mine eye might closed be, 
 To what becomes me not to see ; 
 That deafness might possess mine ear, 
 To what concerns me not to hear ; 
 That truth my tongue might always tie, 
 From ever speaking foolishly ! 
 
That no vain thought might ever rest, 
 
 Or be conceived within my breast ; 
 
 That by each word, each deed, each thought, 
 
 Glory may to my God be brought ; 
 
 But what are wishes? Lord, mine eye 
 
 On Thee is fixed ; to Thee I cry.^ 
 
 O, purge out all my dross, my sin, 
 
 Make me more white than snow within ; 
 
 Wash, Lord, and purify my heart, 
 
 And make it clean in every part ; 
 
 And when 'tis clean, Lord, keep it so, 
 
 For that is more than I can do. 
 
 LOVE EACH OTHER. 
 
 Little children love each other, 
 
 Is the blessed Savior's rule ; 
 Every little boy is brother 
 
 To his playfellow at school. 
 
 We're all children of one Father ; 
 
 The great God who reigns above. 
 Shall we quarrel? No, much rather 
 
 We would be like Him all Love. 
 
 He has placed us here together, 
 That we may be good and kind. 
 
 He is ever watching, whether 
 We are one in heart and mind. 
 
 Who is stronger than the other ? 
 
 Lefr him be the weak one's friend. 
 Who's more playthings than his brother? 
 
 He'll delight to give and lend. 
 
Selfish children's sad behavior, 
 Shows they love themselves alone ? 
 
 But the children of the Savior, 
 Will not call the best their own. 
 
 All they have they share with others 
 Give kind looks and gentle words ; 
 
 Thus they live like happy brothers, 
 And are known to be the Lord's. 
 
 IF I HAVE BREED. 
 
 BY D. C, COLESWORTHY. 
 
 Come not to me, if I have erred, 
 
 While passion burns upon thy cheek, 
 
 Who with his bitter feelings stirred, 
 Can pleasant words of kindness speak ? 
 
 If thou canst feel the wrong I've done, 
 And wish in penitence to bring, 
 
 To truth and duty, Folly's son, 
 
 From kindness let thy actions spring. 
 
 Speak kindly and thy voice will fall 
 Like music melting on the soul, 
 
 And every error I'll recall, 
 And yield no more to sin's control. 
 
 Yes, kindly speak such words have power, 
 When falling from the lips of love, 
 
 To save in strong Temptation's hour, 
 And turn the serpent to a dove. 
 
8 
 
 Forget not then thy duty, thou 
 Who hast a brother gone astray, 
 
 And sunshine, beaming from thy brow? 
 Will light his steps in Virtue's way. 
 
 'SPIRITUAL RAILWAY." 
 
 Lines written by Mungwndaus, an Indian chief, ID 
 his 52d year. 
 
 The line to heaven by Christ was made, 
 With heavenly Truth the rails are laid ; 
 From earth to heaven the line extends, 
 To life eternal where it ends. 
 
 Repentance is the station then, 
 Where passengers are taken in, 
 No fee for them is there to pay f 
 For Jesus is himself the way. 
 
 The Bible then is engineer ;* 
 It points the way to Heaven so clear ; 
 Through tunnels dark and dreary here, 
 It does the way to glory steer. 
 
 God's Love the fire, His Truth the steam, 
 Which drives the engine and the train ; 
 All you who would to glory ride, 
 Must come to Christ, rn Him abide. 
 
 In first, and second, and third class, 
 Hepentance, Faith and Holiness, 
 
 * Though the Bible is profitable for reproof, instmotioo 
 Ac., yet it cannot properly bo styled an active agent. 
 
9 
 
 You must the way to glory gain. 
 Or you with Christ can never reign. 
 
 Come then poor sinners, now's the time, 
 At any place along the line ; 
 If you repent and turn from sin, 
 The train will stop and take you in. 
 
 MAXIMS AND SENTIMENTS. 
 
 Diligence, industry, and proper improvement 
 of time, are material duties of the young. 
 
 From our eagerness to grasp, we strangle and 
 destroy pleasure. 
 
 From ill air we take diseases ; from ill com- 
 pany vices, and imperfections. 
 
 Speak always according to your conscience ; 
 but let it be done in terms of good nature, civili- 
 ty, and good manners. 
 
 In your conversation be cautious what you 
 speak, and to whom you speak, how you speak, 
 and when you speak. 
 
 Among all our corrnpt passions, there is a 
 strong and intimate connection. When any one 
 of them is adopted into our family, it seldom 
 quits us until it has fathered upon us all its 
 kindred. 
 
 Men of the noblest dispositions, think them- 
 selves happiest, when others share with them in 
 their happiness. 
 
 There are many persons who live without any 
 
10 
 
 design at all, and only pass in the world like 
 straws upon a river; they do not go but are 
 carried. 
 
 Man is formed for activity ; upon this depends 
 the health of the soul and the body. All the 
 train of virtues that should adorn the human 
 character, require activity. 
 
 Indolence frustrates every design of our ex- 
 istence. 
 
 We are all surrounded and beset with evils ; 
 and as they cannot be avoided the mind ought to 
 be prepared to encounter them. 
 
 'Tis a fair step towards virtue and happiness, 
 to delight in the society of the good and wise ; 
 and if those cannot be met with, the next point 
 is to keep no company at all. 
 
 No person who has once yielded up the govern- 
 ment of his mind, and given loose reins to his 
 desires and passions, can tell how far these may 
 carry him. 
 
 It costs us more to be miserable than would 
 make us perfectly happy. How cheap and easy 
 is the service of virtue ; and how dear do we 
 pay for our vices. 
 
 Anger may glance into the bosom of a wise 
 man, but it rests only in the bosom of fools. 
 
 It costs more to revenge injuries than to bear 
 them. 
 
 When you see the anger of a friend begin to 
 kindle, if you would do good, throw water there* 
 on to cool, not wood to inflame. 
 
11 
 
 No trees bear fruit in autumn, unless they 
 blossom in the spring. To the end that our age 
 may be profitable and laden with fruit, let us all 
 endeavor that our youth may be studious, and 
 flowered with the blossoms of learning and ob- 
 servation. 
 
 FAREWELL. 
 
 TO THE CASTLES IN THE AIR. 
 
 Farewell, to my Castles rais'd so high ; 
 
 Farewell, ye bowers of beauty ; 
 From your enchantment I must fly 
 
 To sober paths of duty. 
 
 many an hour I could employ, 
 These lovely bowers adorning, 
 
 Till every airy hall of joy 
 
 Should seem a star of morning. 
 
 But go, vain dreams, depart, 
 Though fondly lov'd ; I feel it, 
 
 That, while you soothe the heart, 
 From better things you steal it. 
 
 When rose the storm of grief and care, 
 Of life's uncertain billow, 
 
 1 sought my Castles in the Air, 
 
 And found a ready pillow : 
 Here joys to come were always shown, 
 
 The present grief dispelling, 
 For future woe is all unknown 
 
 In my aerial dwelling. 
 
12 
 
 The lesson thus was lost, 
 
 For which the storm was given, 
 
 To show the tempest-tost 
 A refuge sure in Heaven. 
 
 Here Hope, tho' cheated o'er and o'er* 
 
 I thought would dwell securest, 
 And deem'd, of all her various store, 
 
 Such gift the best and surest. 
 While Fancy strove with magic glass 
 
 To raise the scene ideal, 
 Still whisper'd Hope, tho' this may pass, 
 
 The next will sure be real. 
 Thus many a darling theme 
 
 Was forming and undoing, 
 And still some brighter dream 
 
 Arose upon their ruin. 
 
 Thus, in the fields of wild romance, 
 
 I tarried for a season, 
 But, still, at every change and chance, 
 
 I heard the voice of Reason ; 
 "Oh, at some holier, happier shrine, 
 
 Devote thy thoughts so ranging 
 Whose base is truth and love divine, 
 
 The fabric never changing. 
 Thy hopes from youth to age, 
 
 If thou wilt hither guide them, 
 Tho' tempests rise and rage, 
 
 Securely may abide them." 
 
 I rais'd my eyes from all beneath, 
 And Hope stood in the portal, 
 
 She held an amaranthine wreath, 
 And promis'd life immortal. 
 
13 
 
 I felt the scene before my view 
 
 Was more than idle seeming, 
 And wish and strive to bid adieu 
 
 To all my days of dreaming. 
 Then go, vain dreams, depart, 
 
 Though fondly lov'd I feel it, 
 That, while you soothe the heart, 
 
 From better things you steal it. A. C. 
 
 THE LIFE CLOCK. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN. 
 
 There is a little mystic clock, 
 
 No human eye hath seen : 
 That beateth on and beateth on, 
 
 From morning unto e'en. 
 
 And when the soul is wrapped in sleep, 
 
 And heareth not a sound, 
 It ticks and ticks the live-long night, 
 
 And never runneth down. 
 
 wondrous is the work of art, 
 Which knells the passing hour ; 
 
 But art ne'er formed, nor mind conceived, 
 The life-clock's magic power. 
 
 Nor set in gold, nor decked with gems, 
 By pride and wealth possessed : 
 
 But rich or poor, or high or low, 
 Each bears it in his breast. 
 
14 
 
 When life's deep stream, 'mid beds of flowers, 
 
 All still and softly glides, 
 Like a wavelet's stop, with gentle beat, 
 
 It warns of passing tides. 
 
 When passion nerves the warrior's arm, 
 
 For deeds of hate and wrong, 
 Though heeded not the fearful sound, 
 
 The knell is deep and strong. 
 
 When eyes to eyes are gazing soft, 
 
 And tender words are spoken, 
 Then fast and wild it rattles on, 
 
 As if with love 'twere broken. 
 
 Such is the clock that measures life, 
 
 Of flesh and spirit blended, 
 And thus 'twill run within the breast, 
 
 Till that strange life is ended. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A LITTLE NEGRO. 
 
 BY SUSAN FISHER. 
 
 The nobility of Portugal, when following their 
 king to the Brazils, rendezvoused for some days 
 at Plymouth, (Eng.) A captain took lodgings 
 at Plymouth, and had to attend him two little 
 negro slaves, to whom he was in the habit of be- 
 having in the most cruel manner, frequently 
 stripping them, and scratching their backs very 
 severely with the point of a penknife. The 
 landlord, compassionating the poor boys, pro- 
 
15 
 
 tected them from his brutality so long as they re- 
 mained at his house. The fleet being ready to 
 sail, the captain with his victims went on board ; 
 but at night the little negroes succeeded in mak- 
 ing their escape to the shore, and hid themselves 
 in a barn. Handbills were circulated, and large 
 rewards offered for their apprehension ; but noth- 
 ing was heard of them until, one night, the land- 
 lord of the house where they formerly lodged was 
 surprised with a visit from one of them, who pre- 
 sented himself before him, trembling, naked and 
 nearly famished. He administered to their wants, 
 and made them continue in their hiding place. 
 A man going into the barn, discovered them ; 
 but confused by their sudden appearance, he suf- 
 fered them to go to the landlord's, who refused to 
 give them up. Their master appealed to the 
 magistrates, who appointed a day for a hearing. 
 The landlord went to the court, with his proteges 
 clinging around him ; and the result was, their 
 informing the captain that his title to the slaves 
 was forfeited ; for by the laws of England, the 
 moment a slave treads the British shore, he is 
 free. 
 
 The boys afterwards became a part of the es- 
 tablishment of the Earl of Mount Edgecombe ; 
 but they always retained the greatest affection for 
 their generous protector, whom they used to 
 style " father." Some time afterwards, the land- 
 lord died, and the boys attended his funeral. From 
 that period the youngest, whose name was Charles, 
 
16 
 
 was observed to droop ; and though every thing 
 was done to cheer him, it was of no avail. " My 
 poor father dead !" the poor child used to say, 
 " me die too ;" and in a short time, he died of a 
 
 broken heart ! 
 
 Peace to thee, little stranger ! 
 
 The storms of life are o'er ; 
 Here rest secure from danger, 
 
 On Britain's sacred shore. 
 Yes, thou shalt make thy pillow 
 
 Where lie the brave and free ; 
 Thy master o'er the billow 
 
 Is not so blest as thee. 
 
 Thou didst not die reclining 
 
 Upon thy mother's breast ; 
 Another sun is shining, 
 
 Where thou art doom'd to rest ;- 
 Yet hearts of noblest feeling 
 
 Shall mourn thy long last sleep, 
 And softest eyes be stealing 
 
 To bless thy grave and weep. 
 
 Thine was the child-like spirit 
 
 Which ever dwells above ; 
 There, through the Saviour's merit, 
 
 Begin the song of love ! 
 The first-born sons of heaven 
 
 Will not despise thy hue ; 
 Their mind to thee was given, 
 
 So tender and so true. 
 
 I will not pray that, hated 
 By every wretched slave, 
 
17 
 
 The tyrant may be fated 
 To perish in the wave ; 
 
 But I will ask imploring, 
 When I this life resign, 
 
 My spirit may be soaring 
 With souls as fair as thine. 
 
 TRUTH TO THE DYING. 
 
 From Dr. Whitbridge's address to the last graduating 
 class in the Medical College of South Carolina. 
 
 It is but too common for gentlemen of our 
 profession to think and to feel, that in respect to 
 patients, so far as their diseases are concerned, 
 they are not bound by the obligation of truth, 
 but that it is always necessary to encourage and 
 to flatter them, to effect their recovery or pro- 
 long their life. This is an erroneous opinion, 
 and one that I am extremely desirous should be 
 corrected. I have seen patients encouraged, 
 flattered and deceived by their friends and phy- 
 sicians, until they were absolutely cheated out of 
 life, and who knows but cheated too out of their 
 soul's salvation ? What, tell a lie to a sick 
 man ? It is bad enough to deceive in any case, 
 but to tell a lie to a sick and dying man, and 
 thus divert his mind from sacred things, de- 
 prive him of the use of precious time time 
 which may perhaps be to him of infinite im- 
 portance is unpardonable. Although I have 
 
18 
 
 no great faith or confidence in the efficacy of a 
 deathbed repentance believing that a man's 
 hope for the future depends upon the manner in 
 which he lives rather than that in which he dies 
 yet, I dare not take upon me the responsibility 
 of deceiving him nor is there any necessity for 
 it, or even of concealment : so far from it, that 
 I have generally found a frank and free com- 
 munication to my patients attended with proper 
 results. Unconscious as they often are of their 
 situation, I have frequently given them the first 
 intimation of their danger, and in many instances 
 have been the humble instrument of awakening 
 them to a sense of their moral condition. It 
 has been my happiness on such occasions to wit- 
 ness the gratification which patients on their 
 deathbed have evinced on receiving information, 
 which is usually regarded not only as impolite, but 
 unwelcome, and their thankfulness has ever been 
 manifested by the effusions of a grateful heart. 
 Instead of alarming them, as is generally ap- 
 prehended, it inspires them with hope and confi- 
 dence in their physician hope in the efficacy of 
 his remedies trust and confidence in God ! 
 
 CECIL. 
 
 Previous to his conversion, Cecil, one night 
 lying in bed, was contemplating the case of 
 his mother. "I see," said he, within himself, 
 
19 
 
 "two unquestionable facts : First) my mother is 
 greatly afflicted in circumstances, body, and 
 mind ; and yet I see that she cheerfully bears 
 up under all, by the support she derives from 
 constantly retiring to her closet and her Bible. 
 Secondly, that she has a secret spring of com- 
 fort, of which I know nothing ; while I, who 
 give an unbounded loose to my appetites, and 
 seek pleasure by every means, seldom or never 
 find it. If, however, there is any such comfort 
 in religion, why may not I attain it as well as 
 my mother? I will immediately seek it of 
 God." He instantly rose in his bed, and began 
 to pray. But he was soon damped in his at- 
 tempt, by recollecting that much of his mother's 
 comfort seemed to arise from her faith in Christ. 
 "Now," thought he, "this Christ I have ridiculed. 
 He stands much in my way, and can form no 
 part of my prayers." In utter confusion of 
 mind, therefore, he lay down again. Next day, 
 however, he continued to pray to the "Supreme 
 Being," and began to consult books, and to at- 
 tend preachers. His difficulties were gradually 
 removed, and his objections answered, and his 
 course of life began to amend. He now listened 
 to the pious admonitions of his mother, which he 
 had before affected to receive with pride and 
 scorn ; yet they fixed themselves in his heart 
 like a barbed arrow : and, though the effects 
 were at the time concealed from her observation, 
 yet the tears would fall from his eyes as he 
 
20 
 
 passed along the streets, from the impression she 
 liad left on his mind. Now he would discourse 
 with her, and hear her without outrage ; which 
 led her to hope that a gracious principle was 
 forming in his heart, and more especially as he 
 then attended the preaching of the word. Thus 
 he made some progress ; but felt no small diffi- 
 culty in separating from his favorite connections. 
 Light, however, broke into his mind, till he 
 gradually discovered that Jesus Christ, so far 
 from "standing in his way," was the only "way, 
 the truth and the life," to all that come unto 
 God by him. 
 
 THE DEATH OF SUMMER. 
 
 BY AGNES STRICKLAND. 
 
 By the lengthening twilight hours, 
 By the chill and frequent showers, 
 By the tiow'rets pale and faded, 
 By the leaves with russet shaded, 
 By the gray and clouded morn, 
 By the drooping ears of corn, 
 Ripened now, and earthward tending, 
 As man, when full of years, is bending 
 Towards his kindred dust, where he 
 Lowly soon shall withering be ; 
 By the harvest moon's long light, 
 Shedding splendor on the night ; 
 By the silence of each grove, 
 Vocal late with notes of love ; 
 
By the meadows overspread 
 With the spider's wavy thread ; 
 By the soft and shadowy sky, 
 By the thousand tears that lie 
 Every weeping bough beneath; 
 Summer ! we perceive thy death 1 
 
 Summer ! all thy charms are past ; 
 Summer ! thou art waning fast ; 
 Scarcely one of all thy roses 
 On thy faded brow reposes. 
 Day by day, more feebly shining, 
 Sees thy glorious beams declining ; 
 Though thy wan and eickly smile 
 Faintly lingers yet awhile. 
 Thrush and nightingale have long 
 Ceased to woo thee with their song; 
 Cuckoo's notes are heard no more, 
 From the hill or wooded shore; 
 And on every lonely height 
 Swallows gather for their flight ; 
 Streams that, in their sparkling course, 
 Rippling flowed, are dark and hoarse; 
 While the gale's inconstant tone, 
 Sweeping through the valleys lone, 
 Sadly sighs, with mournful breath, 
 Requiems for sweet Summer's death ! 
 
 THE BLIND AND DEAF SCHOLAR. 
 
 Some time ago, while attending an eminent 
 Burgeon, for the purpose of having an operation 
 performed on one of my eyes, a friend of mine 
 
22 
 
 led into the same room a young woman, who 
 was completely blind and deaf. This sad con- 
 dition had been brought on suddenly by a violent 
 pain in the head. Her case was examined by a 
 number of surgeons then present, all of whom 
 pronounced it incurable. She was led back to 
 the house of my friend, when she eagerly enquir- 
 ed what the doctor said about her case, and 
 whether he could afford her any relief. The 
 only method by which her enquiries could be 
 answered was, by tapping her hand, which signi- 
 fied No ; and by squeezing it, which signified 
 Yes ; for she could not hear the loudest noise, 
 nor distinguish day from night. She had to 
 receive for her answer on this occasion, the un- 
 welcome No, She burst into tears, and wept 
 aloud in all the bitterness of despair. "What," 
 said she, "shall I never again see the light of 
 day, nor hear a human voice ? Must I remain 
 incapable of all social intercourse shut up in 
 silence and darkness while I live ?" Again she 
 wept. The scene was truly affecting. Had she 
 been able to see, she might have been pointed to 
 the Bible as a source of comfort. Had she been 
 able to hear, words of consolation might have 
 been spoken ; but alas ! these avenues to the 
 mind were closed, to be opened no more in this 
 world. Her friends could pity, but they could 
 not relieve : and what made her case still mo-re 
 deplorable, she was an orphan ; had no father 
 or mother, or brother or sister to pity and care 
 
23 
 
 for her. She was entirely dependent on a few 
 pious friends for her support. This she felt, 
 and continued to weep, till my friend took up. 
 the Bible, and placed it to her breast. She felt 
 it, and said, " Is this the Bible ?" She was 
 answered that it was. She held it to her bosom, 
 and said, " This is the only comfort I have left : 
 though I shall never be able to read it any more," 
 and began to repeat some of its promises : such 
 as, " Cast thy burden on the Lord, and he will 
 sustain thee." " As thy day, so shall thy strength 
 be." " Call upon me in the day of trouble, and 
 I will deliver thee." " My grace is sufficient for 
 thee,'' &c. &c. In a moment she dried her 
 tears, and never seemed to deplore her condition 
 afterward. I have many times heard her tell 
 of the strong consolations she felt. She appeared 
 to enjoy uninterrupted communion with the 
 Father of spirits. 
 
 Happily for this young woman, she had been 
 taken, when a very little girl, to a methodist 
 Sabbath-school, where she enjoyed the only op- 
 portunity she ever had of learning to read the 
 Bible, and where she had committed to memory 
 those passages of Scripture which now became 
 her solace and the food of her spirit. With what 
 gratitude she used to speak of her teachers, who, 
 she said, not only taught her to read, but took 
 pains to instruct her in the things that belonged 
 to her eternal peace ! " What would have be- 
 come of me had I not then been taught the way 
 
24 
 
 of salvation ? for now I am deprived of all out- 
 ward means;" was her constant language. 
 
 From the pen of a young woman of Philadelphia, 
 after attending an evening meeting. 
 
 Thou just and Holy One ! 
 
 From thy all glorious throne 
 Be pleased thy little flock on earth to bless ! 
 
 Their spirits deign to move 
 
 With thy inspiring love, 
 And on their hearts anew thy grace impress. 
 
 That they a chosen band, 
 
 Led by thy gracious hand, 
 May onward move, and find their pathway rife 
 
 With gentle streams of peace ; 
 
 The fruits of an increase 
 Of faith in thy dear Son the word of life. 
 
 Father! thy will be done ! 
 
 But not for those alone 
 Who, through repentance, have forgiveness found, 
 
 I now pour forth my prayer ; 
 
 May they thy mercy share 
 Who yet in fruitless works alone abound. 
 
 Oh ! from each fettered heart, 
 
 Bid unbelief depart, 
 Nor longer in its coils involve the mind, 
 
 Whose noble powers were given 
 
 To soar from earth to heaven, 
 Leaving the world's deceiving joys behind. 
 
25 
 
 Teach them, thou Great Supreme, 
 
 That clouds will intervene, 
 Whilst sin exists e'en between them and thee ; 
 
 The will must be resigned, 
 
 Before that peace they'll find, 
 Which pure and steadfast is and heavenly. 
 
 To Thee the tri-une Lord, 
 
 Worthy to be adored, 
 From grateful hearts may praise re-echoing ring ; 
 
 Till earth's remotest bound, 
 
 Shall swell the joyful sound, 
 And purest incense to thy glory bring. 
 
 THE WORLD WE HAVE NOT SEEN. 
 
 There is a world we have not seen, 
 That time shall never dare destroy : 
 
 Where mortal footsteps have not been, 
 Nor ear hath caught its sound of joy. 
 
 There is a region, lovelier far 
 Than sages tell or poets sing, 
 
 Brighter than summer's beauties are, 
 And softer than the tints oi spring. 
 
 There is a world, and oh how blest ! 
 
 Fairer than prophets ever told ; 
 And never did an angel guest 
 
 One half its blessedness unfold. 
 
 It is all holy and serene, 
 The land of glory and repose ; 
 
26 
 
 And there, to dim the radiant scene, 
 The tear of sorrow never flows. 
 
 It is not fanned by summer gale, 
 
 'Tis not refreshed by vernal showers : 
 
 It never needs the moon-beam pale, 
 For there are known no evening hours. 
 
 No : for this world is ever bright, 
 
 With a radiance all its own : 
 The streams of uncreated light 
 
 Flow round it from the eternal throne. 
 
 There forms that mortal may not see, 
 Too glorious' for the eye to trace, 
 
 And clad in peerless majesty, 
 Move with unutterable grace. 
 
 In vain the philosophic eve 
 
 May seek to view the fair abode, 
 
 Or find it in the curtained sky : 
 
 It is the dwelling place of God ! 
 
 THE SOUL'S TRUST. 
 
 " Why art thou cast down, my soul, and why 
 art thou disquieted within me 1 Hope thou in God, 
 for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my 
 countenance and my God." 
 
 Though troubles assail me, and dangers surround, 
 Though thorns in my pathway may ever be found, 
 Still let me not fear, for Thou ever wilt be 
 My God and my guide while I lean upon thee. 
 
The sweet buds of promise may fade ere they bloom, 
 The hopes which are earthborn, lie low in the tomb: 
 And though my life's pathway seem weary to me, 
 I shall gather new strength as I lean upon thee. 
 
 Though bound to the earth, by the heart's dearest 
 
 ties, 
 
 Tho' earth's fairest scenes are outspread to my eyes; 
 Oh ! never, my Father ! permit me to be 
 Found trusting in reeds, let me lean upon thee. 
 
 And in that dread hour when my awed soul may stay 
 No longer on earth, but is summon 'd away ; 
 Amidst those great scenes which no mortal may see; 
 Let me know naught of fear as I lean upon thee. 
 
 THE DIFFERENCE OF COLOR. 
 
 God gave to Afric's sons 
 
 A brow of sable dye, 
 And spread the country of their birth 
 
 Beneath a burning sky, 
 And with a cheek of olive, made 
 
 The little Hindoo child, 
 And darkly stained the forest tribes 
 
 That roam our western wild. 
 
 To me he gave a form 
 
 Of fairer, whiter clay, 
 But am I, therefore, in his sight, 
 
 Respected more than they ? 
 No. 'Tis the hue of deeds and thoughts 
 
 He traces in his Book, 
 
28 
 
 'Tis the complexion of the heart, 
 On which he deigns to look. 
 
 Not by the tinted cheek, 
 
 That fades away so fast, 
 But by the color of the soul, 
 
 We shall be judged at last. 
 And God, the Judge, will look at me 
 
 With anger in his eyes, 
 If I, my brother's darker brow 
 
 Should ever dare despise. [Sigourney. 
 
 " THIS HAND NEVER STRUCK ME." 
 
 We recently heard the following most touch- 
 ing incident : 
 
 A little boy had died. His body was laid out 
 in a darkened retired room, waiting to be laid 
 away in the lone cold grave. His afflicted moth- 
 er and bereaved little sister went to look at the 
 sweet face of the precious sleeper, for his face 
 was beautiful even in death. As they stood 
 gazing upon the form of one so cherished and 
 beloved, the little girl asked to take hold of his 
 hand. The mother at first did not think it best ; 
 but as her child repeated the request, and seemed 
 very anxious about it, she took the cold bloodless 
 hand of the sleeping boy, and placed it in the 
 hand of his weeping sister. 
 
 The dear child looked at it a moment, caressed 
 it fondly, and then looking up to her mother 
 
through tears the tears of affection and love-* 
 she said, "Mother, t his little haTid never struck 
 me /" 
 
 What could be more touching and lovely ? 
 
 Young reader, have you always been so gentle 
 to your brothers and sisters, that, were you to 
 die, such a tribute as this could be paid to your 
 memory ? Could a brother or sister take your 
 hand, were it cold in death, say, "This hand 
 never struck me ?" 
 
 What an alleviation to our grief, when we 
 part with a friend, to be able to remember only 
 words and actions of mutual kindness and love. 
 How bitter must be the sorrow, and scalding the 
 tears of remorse, of an unkind child, as he looks 
 upon the cold form, or stands at the grave of a 
 brother or sister, or father or mother, towards 
 whom he had manifested unkindness. Let us all 
 remember, that whatsoever we sow in this respect, 
 that we shall also reap. 
 
 " THAT IS A BOY I CAN TRUST." 
 
 I once visited a Targe public school. At re- 
 cess, a little fellow came up and spoke to the 
 master ; as he turned to go down the platform, 
 the master said, " That is a boy I can trust. He 
 never fails me." I followed him with my eye, 
 and looked at him when he took his seat after 
 recess. He had a fine, open, manly face. I 
 
80 
 
 thought a good deal about the master's remark, 
 What a character had that little boy earned ! 
 He had already got what would be worth more 
 to him than a fortune. It would be a passport 
 into the best store in the city, and, what is bet- 
 ter, into the confidence and respect of the whole 
 community. 
 
 I wonder if the boys know how soon they are 
 rated by older people. Every boy in the neigh- 
 borhood is known, and opinions are formed of 
 him ; he has a character, either favorable or 
 unfavorable. A boy of whom the master can 
 say, " I can trust him ; he never failed me," will 
 never want employment. The fidelity, prompt- 
 ness, and industry which he shows at school are 
 in demand everywhere. He who is faithful in 
 little will be faithful also in much. Be sure, 
 boys, that you can earn a good reputation at 
 school. Remember that you are just where God 
 has placed you, and your duties are not so much 
 given you by your teachers or your parents, as 
 by God himself. You must render an account 
 to them, and you also will be called to render an 
 account to Him. Be trusty be true. 
 
 THE OBJECT WORTHY OF PURSUIT. 
 
 If now, in early youth, my son, 
 The good thou choose the evil shun, 
 Thou may'st a good foundation lay 
 The comlbrt of a future day. 
 
31 
 
 A faithless world may on thee frown, 
 And thou be friendless, left alone ; 
 For trouble is each mortal's lot : 
 Then let this truth be ne'er forgot, 
 Heav'en, ever man's indulgent friend, 
 Afflicts but for a gracious end. 
 Let the ambitious seek to rise 
 His babel structures to the skies ; 
 Let worldlings after shadows press ; 
 Be thine the substance to possess, 
 And know what constitutes true bliss. 
 
 Not he whom Fortune's goods surround 
 With more than needful plenty crown'd ; 
 Whose gainful projects meet success, 
 And swell his coffers with increase, 
 Houses superb and gardens fair, 
 With nature's elegancies rare ; 
 Servants in taste and equipage, 
 The gazing populace to engage ; 
 Far fetchM, his appetite to please, 
 The product of earth, air, and seas. 
 
 Not he is rich ; but who, resign'd, 
 Enjoys a pious calm of mind. 
 And what supplies his real need 
 Graceful receives, is rich indeed ! 
 Not he who labors much to know 
 Why mountains blaze, seas ebb and flow ; 
 Explores the nature of each sphere, 
 And travels with the blazing star ; 
 Who deep inspecting nature's womb. 
 Imports rich funds of knowledge home ; 
 Not he who kens each planet's size ; 
 But he who knows himself, is wise ! 
 Not he who death defies in war, 
 Or fearless meets the wild hussar ; 
 
32 
 
 Whose breast with martial ardor burns ; 
 The horse and rider overturns ; 
 In the hot siege ascends the wall, 
 And dauntless sees his fellow fall;. 
 Strong holds dismantl'd, cities sack'd, 
 Provinces ravag'd, empires wreck'd, 
 Compose his trophies, swell his pride, 
 And bid his name tremendous stride 
 Through the wide range of time and space, 
 While brass or stone his form express : 
 Not who those earth-born honors wait ; 
 But who subdues himself, is great ! 
 Thyself to know ; thyself to rule, 
 A science taught in Christ's free school, 
 This science, my son ! pursue ; 
 Acquaint thyself with him that's true, 
 And be at peace ; here wisdom, wealth, 
 Sweet pleasure and. immortal health ! 
 With love that over death prevails, 
 And every evil countervails, 
 Concenter 'd, all supremely meet 
 To make thee Rich, and Wise, and Great. 
 
MS