MORAL IDOLATRY.

THE Soul of man, like common nature, admits no vacuum; if God be not there, Mammon must be; and it is as impossible to serve neither, as it is to serve both. And for this there is an essential reason

in our constitution. For man is designed and born an indigent creature, full of wants and appetites, and a restless desire of happiness, which he can by no means find within himself; and this indispensably obliges him to seek for happiness abroad. Now if he seek his happiness from God, he answers the very intention of his frame, and has made a wise choice of an object that is adequate to all his wants and desires. But then if he does not seek his happiness from God, he must necessarily seek it somewhere else; for his appetites cannot hang long undetermined, they are eager, and must have their quarry: If he forsake the Fountain of Living Waters, yet he cannot forsake his thirst, and therefore he lies under the necessity of hewing out broken cisterns to himself; he must pursue, and at least promise himself satisfaction in other enjoyments. Thus when our hope, our trust, and our expectations abate towards God, they do not abate in themselves, but are only scattered among undue and inferior objects. And this makes the connection infallible between Indevotion and Moral Idolatry; that is, between the neglect of God's worship, and worshiping the creature; for whatsoever share we abate towards God, we always place upon something else; and whatsoever thing else we prosecute with that share of love, desire, or complacency, which is due unto God, that is in effect our idol."-DEAN YOUNG'S Sermons, vol. i. p. 19.

EPITAPH IN PANCRAS CHURCHYARD.

UNDERNEETHE this stone doth lye
The body of Mr. Humphrie

Jones who was of late

By trade a tin plate

Worker in Barbicanne

Well known to be a goode man

By all his friends and neighbors too
And paid every bodie their due

He died in the year 1737

Aug. 4th aged 80 his soul we hopes in heaven.

SECRET VIRTUE OF FLOWERS.

"I was seated one day," says TADJAD-DIN AHMED (in his description of the Sanctuary of Jerusalem), "in a place covered with anemonies and camomils; near me was a poor man in rags, who smiled, and from time to time lifted up his voice to sing the praise and the greatness of God. He sang thus: Praise be to him who collects in thee, O holy city, all that is beautiful! who clothes thee with this magnificent robe, and who showers upon thee the treasures of this world and of the next. Sir, I made

answer, as to beauty, a man need only open his eyes and be satisfied; but where are these worldly treasures? He replied, there is not one among all the flowers which thou seest, that has not extraordinary virtues known well unto those who study them. Perhaps, I answered, you will show me something to convince me farther, and to make this conversation profitable. Then he took me by the hand, led me some steps towards the sanctuary, plucked up a handful of herbs, and said to me, hast thou a ring or a piece of money? Yes, I replied, giving him a piece of silver. He rubbed it with one herb, and it became yellow like a ducat; then he took another herb and rubbed it again, and it became as it had been before. See, quoth he, the secrets in which the treasures are contained. Praise be to God Almighty."-Fundgruben des Orients, vol. ii. p. 94.

ILL-GOTTEN GOLD.

"GOLD well gotten is bright and fair; but there is gold which rusts and cankers. The stores of the man who walks according to the will of God are under a special blessing; but the stores which have been unjustly gathered are accursed. Your gold and your silver is cankered, and the rust of them shall be a witness against you, and shall eat up your flesh as fire.' Far better have no gold at all, than gold with that curse upon it. Far better let cold pinch this frame, or hunger gnaw it, than that the rust of ill-gotten gold should eat it up as fire. Perhaps you may, once or twice in your life, have passed a person whose countenance struck you with painful amazement. It was the face of a man, with features as of flesh and blood, but all hue of flesh and blood was gone, and the whole visage was overspread with a dull silver gray, and a mysterious metallic gloss. You felt wonder, you felt curiosity; but a deep impression of the unnatural made pain the strongest feeling of all which the spectacle excited. You found it was a poor man, who, in disease, had taken mercury till it transfused itself through his skin, and glistened in his face. Now go where he will he exhibits the proof of his disorder, and of the large quantity of metal he has consumed. If you had an eye to see the souls that are about you, many would you see-alas! too many-who are just like that; they have swallowed doses of metal-ill-gotten, cankered, rusted metal-till all purity and beauty are destroyed. Of all poisons and plagues, the deadliest you can admit to your heart is gain which fraud has won. The curse of the Judge is in it; the curse of the Judge will never leave it; it is woe and withering, and death to you; it will eat you up as fire; it will witness against you: ay, were that poor soul of yours, at this precise moment, to pass into the presence of its Judge, the proof of its money-worship would be as clear on its visage, as the proof that the man we have described has taken mercury is strikingly plain upon him."

PROBABLY no age has been characterized by so many favorable auspices as that in which we live. The nineteenth century may be appropriately termed the "age of progress," for never before has the march of improvement in the arts and sciences, and the consequent amelioration of man's social and moral condition, been so strikingly progressive. When, aided by the ever-beaming light of history, we endeavor to compare the state of the present with that of past ages, do we not find a field for contemplation so boundless that the mind shrinks from it, conscious of its own inability to perform faithfully so comprehensive a task? But while a change so favorable to man has been going on, while empires have been subverted, the great principles of political liberty promulgated, and the very elements made humble ministers to the "lords of creation," there has been a principle developing itself which cannot fail to excite the warmest admiration of every benevolent heart, the principle which accords to the empire of Woman that degree of dignity and respect which it rightly deserves. Woman-at the mention of this name what associations crowd into the mind!woman, as sister, wife, or mother, in each and all of these relations, the same gentle, confiding, affectionate, and devoted being, living not for herself, but for those "near and dear" to her. Would you know the depths of Woman's affections? Can you fathom the mighty ocean? Would you know the strength of her love? Can you twist the tough oak, that hath withstood the storms of a century, from its deeprooted place? Would you comprehend the length and breadth of her sympathies? Can you embrace the world at a glance? Would you learn the scope of her patience? Can you count the sands upon the shore? Would you see the noblest elements of our nature fully developed? Would you behold the triumphs of love, affection, sympathy, and patience, in all their strength and beauty? Where can you find them so fairly exemplified as in

"A perfect woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, and command-
And yet a spirit still, and bright,

With something of an angel light."

In the first place, we shall take a brief view of woman in that relation in which she may exert an influence that will remain as long as life-woman as sister. What a beautiful sphere is here presented 28*

for the exercise of all those delicate virtues that adorn her gentle nature! In this relation, what a responsibility rests upon her! How many little acts of kindness she may perform for the younger members of the family, that will tend to make them almost idolize her! What a pure, lovely, delightful influence she may shed about the consecrated shrine of home! With how much earnestness can she enter into the feelings of those around her, rejoicing with them in their happiness, and sympathizing with them in their sorrows, cares, or disappointments!

We have never witnessed a more beautiful spectacle than that of a sister sacrificing her own comfort and happiness, to the end that she might gratify a brother whom she almost worshipped. There are elements in woman's nature that adapt her in a wonderful degree to sustain this beautiful relation. The strength of her affections, her fixedness of purpose, her invincible patience, and her native purity of heart-these qualities go far in making her what she should be in this capacity, the subject of our holiest aspirations, the object of our most devoted care. Truly a good sister is a treasure, the value of which we can never fully realize, until circumstances cause us to be separated from it. When in a land of strangers sorrow visits us, it is then we are taught indeed a sister's worth. When we miss the sweet accents of her tongue, pouring into the aching heart the heavenly balm of consolation, and the bright smile of hope playing upon her lip; when she is no longer present to be our guardian angel to cheer, soothe, advise, or bless us by her thousand little acts of kindness, then it is, and only then, that we can truly feel there is no treasure like a sister's love.

We have heard a sister appeal in all the force of natural eloquence to the feelings of a dissipated brother. We have seen the strong man moved to trembling; yes, unnerved by those sweet, earnest, and persuasive tones. And we have known him who was sunk in the lowest depths of degradation and misery to be "rescued as a brand from the burning," through the kind and timely influence which no one but a sister can well exert.

Such is the sister, a guardian angel, a precious treasure, a bright star in the constellation of home. Cherish her as such, and Heaven's richest blessings shall be thy reward! Let not her native gentleness and purity be contaminated by the rough blasts of

333

sorrow and of vice. Hers is a lofty sphere, and the influence she may exert over the younger members of the household will tend, in a great measure, to the promotion in them of all those exalted virtues which are the admiration and the pride of the lovely, pure, and good.

But there is another sphere in which we find woman exerting an important influence-that of wife. There is not probably in the whole life of woman an era so particularly interesting as that at which she assumes this high relation. Up to this period, she has been under the guidance and protection of those who felt the warmest interest in her welfare, and gratified her every wish, so far as was consistent with circumstances. But now she feels that she is about to leave the dear friends of her youth, and to place her unlimited confidence in one who is to prove himself her best friend, and to supply the place, in point of friendly counsel and sincere affection, of father, mother, sister, and brother, or who may act the baser part of the cool, heartless villain. Oh, what an experiment! a dangerous experiment is this, for the young lady of warm and generous feelings, surrounded by all of the best comforts of life, to make. She may be deceived. Thousands have been. She may be fortunate. Well may she rejoice if she is. But let her not forget that there is much depending on herself as regards this matter. In this exalted position, she has a weighty obligation to discharge. It is her peculiar duty in this sphere to make home happy. She will indeed be happy if she succeed in this, and happier by far will be the man who holds her love.

Do we hear you ask, How can woman do this? Wherein consists this grand secret of making home happy? We believe that the first great obstacle in the way of domestic happiness will be found, in the majority of cases, to result from a spirit of discontent. The good wife must possess that best of all qualities-a cheerful and contented spirit. This, in itself, is a source of continual bliss, for it robs life of more than half its cares. It gives a gentleness of manner and a happiness of look to her who possesses it. It sheds a halo of brightness around the holy altar of home, and fans continually the pure and lovely flame of affection. Contentment is, indeed, the sunlight of the soul, inspiring with fresh ife and beauty everything which may come in its way. It shows us how to be philosophers, and teaches us to make the best of life, causing us to tread lightly on the thorns that may beset our path. By all means, then, should the wife cultivate a spirit of contentment in its broadest sense, combined with Christian resignation, amidst the most trying scenes of life. The story of the Eastern traveller is a happy illustration of the quality of which we speak. Arriving at the gates of a city late in the evening, he found them closed. Being fatigued, he prepared to take up with such quarters as the nature of the

place afforded. "It is God's will, and I am content," said he, as he fastened his horse to a tree. Lighting his lamp, he sat down to read awhile ere he retired for the night. Just then a gust of wind extinguished his light. ""Tis God's will," said the traveller; "he knows what is best." His horse next became restive, broke his fastening, and ran away. Alone, fatigued, and exposed to numberless dangers, the traveller's confidence was still unshaken. "I am content, for it is God's work." Committing himself to the protection of Providence, he soon fell asleep, and slept soundly till morning. On awaking, he found the city in ruins. A band of robbers had entered it during the night, and, after having plundered it and killed the inhabitants, had set it on fire. Then said the traveller, "Truly has the hand of God been outstretched to save me, for, had I reached the city before nightfall, I should have shared the fate of its unfortunate inhabitants. I am content. Blessed be his name who has so graciously preserved me!"

The same spirit of contentment and resignation manifested by the traveller should be an element in the character of her who would be a good wife. If it be an attribute of our nature that we must meet with disappointments and reverses, how much nobler it is in us to encounter them with a resolute and contented spirit, when come they will, than it is for us continually to brood over imaginary evils!

Franklin mentions an incident proving the value of a good wife. Several young mechanics were at work upon a house near his office. One of these always seemed very happy. However cold or disagreeable the day, a smile played upon his face, and he had a kind word for every one he met. Asking him the grand secret of his happiness, he replied, "I have one of the best of wives. When I enter the house after the labors of the day, she greets me with a kiss, then tea is ready, and she informs me of the numerous little acts of kindness she has been doing for my comfort during the day. Who could be otherwise than happy, in the possession of such a wife as mine?" The philosopher adds that he no longer wondered at the happiness of the young man, and enjoins upon wives that they follow the example of her who made home happy.

Let us consider woman in another sphere. If there be one word in our language that is associated more closely with the secret springs of our nature than any other-a word that is fairly enshrined in the heart of every individual, at the sound of which the blood circulates through the system with a freer flow, and the heart throbs with an accelerated speed -in short, if there be a word dearer than any other to the noble generous heart, is not that word Mother? The first accents of the child lisp it: should not the "child of larger growth" revere it? Who does not love its sound? Who does not almost idolize the name of her who gave him being, who watched over him during the hours of his helpless

infancy, and with heartfelt delight hailed the first development of his youthful powers, the first faint glimmerings of immortal mind. That ministering angel who regarded not only the physical, but also those nobler, more exalted requirements of her child-the moral and the intellectual-is she not worthy of the highest honor and purest affection that child can bestow? What a beautiful manifestation of filial affection was that exhibited by Napoleon when, after his successes, he was greeted as conqueror, and had assumed the imperial purple! Walking in the gardens of St. Cloud, he met his mother. Half earnestly, half seriously, he extended his hand that she might kiss it. Indignantly she flung it back, and, tendering her own, exclaimed, "C'est à vous à baiser la main de celle qui vous a donné la vie." Napoleon immediately stooped over his mother's hand, and affectionately kissed it. This simple act was worthy of the man, and speaks a volume in his favor. There cannot be a truer indication of a good heart than is found in the manifestation of gratitude and love to a mother. Passing through one of our loveliest cemeteries, my attention was attracted by a plain white marble shaft bearing only the inscription, "Our mother." What a comprehensive epitaph! How plainly does it unfold the secret workings of the souls of those who reared it! What a tale of heartfelt gratitude and filial affection is embodied in that simple phrase, "Our mother!"

Of all the impressions made upon the youthful mind, none are so lasting as those received from a mother. While the rough finger of time may eradicate almost all others, these become, as it were, a part of our nature, controlling motives, exerting a powerful influence over us in all the affairs of life. And this fact is sustained by the evidence of many of the greatest men that have ever lived. Perhaps of all whom the world has honored with the appellation of great, more than one-half might, with the strictest propriety, inscribe on their escutcheons as the motto of their success, the simple word, "Mother." Truly weighty then are the obligations devolving on woman in the discharge of her duties in this relation. The formation of character is hers. And may she not be in a great measure responsible for the future welfare or misery of her child, just in proportion as she discharges faithfully, or neglects to discharge, her obligations to him? The child is father of the man, and the seed sown in the moulding of youthful character must bring forth good or evil fruit in the harvest of mature age. Ay, its influence will be felt by future generations, and it remains with the mother whether those who in future time may be affected by the acts of her child, shall have reason to bless or curse the name of her who gave him being. So far does the influence exerted by the mother affect the character of the child that we may, with a considerable degree of confidence, make the assertion, Show us a good

mother, and we will show you a good son. Many a young man of warm sensibilities and fine intellectual acquirements has been obliged to attribute his want of success in the business of life to the false impressions received from a mother, whose errors (to her sorrow be it said) were errors of the head, not of the heart. In the almost faultless character of a Washington, we see written in lines of living light a true biography of her whose noble virtues were only reflected in the career of so distinguished a son. Let mothers emulate her in the training of their children, and the character of American women shall be placed upon a foundation which no spirit of detraction nor jealousy can ever undermine.

Tossed by the ever-varying blasts of life, the favorite of fortune, or the victim of adversity, man may change. But woman, resigned in the darkest hour, and cherishing hope under the most trying circumstances, still proves the same. Truly has it been said of her, "she loves, and loves forever."

From yonder low casement issues a faint glimmer of light. 'Tis the lone hour of midnight. Let us for a moment intrude upon the quiet of that lowly dwelling. What is the scene that presents itself to our view? Behold before you the shattered wreck of one whose features, though deeply marked by lines of care and sorrow, prove that she was once no stranger to beauty. She has seen better days; but mark her now! Why does she ply so industriously the needle, and at this late hour? On that miserable pallet, behold those dearer to her than life. They must have bread, and it is for this that poor woman is sacrificing those few, feeble sparks of vitality which still remain, to bind her broken spirit to its weary tenement of clay. Hard, hard indeed is her lot. Her husband is an inebriate sunk in the lowest depths of misery, and perhaps at this very hour is spending in the dram-shop the scanty earnings of that devoted mother and wife. Sad are the days of that poor woman, sadder still her nights, when, in silence and loneliness, she may brood over her gloomy lot. Many a pure prayer has ascended to the mercy-seat from the inmate of that humble cheerless dwelling; but the object of her heart's affection remains the same, and she seems to be deserted not only by him who should have been her protector and supporter, but also by that Being who is the guardian and father of all. Dark, gloomy though her lot may be, methinks in a spirit of heavenly resignation she breathes, "Even so, father, for thus it seemed good in thy sight."

And this is no picture of the imagination; 'tis but "an ower true tale." Have we not found, in our own experience, instances of a like kind? Have we not seen the calm, resigned, confiding spirit of woman, opposed to the rougher, colder, more hardened nature of man? Have we not witnessed, over and over again, the struggles of earnest, true-hearted woman against that grim-visaged monster, poverty prompted by the noble sentiments she uttered, when