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and night unto night showeth knowledge.
There is no speech nor language where their
voice is not heard." He that built all things
We walk upon and in the midst of his
realized thoughts. How carefully and lovingly
toward him should we walk!

From "Doing and Suffering."

HILDA, OR THE THWARTED WISH.

AN INSTRUCTIVE ALLEGORY.

A

The young Hilda had long been confined to a couch of wearisome pain and sickness, but health now began once more to glow in her cheek, and on one of the first warm mornings of spring, her light step bounded again over the moss-grown walks of her favorite wood. clear rivulet flowed through the wood, and its little waves danced in the laughing sunshine. Hilda watched with delight the sparkling fish, now glancing through the sunny waters, now hiding themselves amid the cool, green river weeds. A light breeze passed over the wood, and played amid the tender green leaves of spring; and the little birds flew gayly from bough to bough, and carolled their sweet, wild Happy, happy creatures," cried Hilda, songs. how sweet are the joys of freedom; and I, too, am now free." And she bounded along with a lighter, firmer step, as though she would shake off the heavy load which had pressed on her young life.

the devil, and all the sinful lusts of the flesh;
and I should keep God's holy will and com-
mandinents." I thought, indeed, that was the
way to obtain a place in the Kingdom of Heav-is God.
en; but I had not power to do what I ought to
do, nor to forsake what I ought to forsake; for
I was very proud, vain and airy. But as I was
thus inwardly exercised and outwardly search-
ing the Scriptures, my understanding was more
and more opened, so that I understood several
things. I read and took notice that the minis-
ters of Christ, which he qualified and sent forth
to preach, were to do it freely; for Christ said,
"Freely ye have received, freely give.;" and
those that did run when the Lord never sent
them, "should not profit the people at all."
And many such things opened in my mind,
which I used to ponder in my heart, with the
promises to the flock, in the 34th of Ezekiel,
where the Lord promised "to bind up that
which was broken, and strengthen that which
was sick," &c.; these and such like portions of
Scripture were very comfortable to me; for I
was sick of my sins, and my heart was broken
many times before the Lord. I thought, oh,
that I had lived in the days of Christ! I would
surely have been one of those that followed"
him; and I grieved because the Jews crucified
him. So I loved Christ in the outward ap-
pearance, and could have said as Peter did,
Far be it from the Lord to suffer;" but I
did not know that he was near me by his Holy
Spirit, though I was convinced that the hireling
shepherds were not the ministers of Christ, by
the testimonies of the prophets and of Christ
himself, who said, "By their fruits ye shall
know them." So I left going to hear them,
and walked alone, though I went so long till a
fear fell on me in the worship house; and I
thought it was just upon me, if I was made an
example of.

(To be continued.)

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At this moment, a man entered the wood, leading by the hand a lovely boy. The child felt all the bright, glad power of spring, and the The flowers of the thicket merry peals of his laughter mingled with the song of the birds. soon caught his eye, and he would fain have twined for himself a garland in the wood; but his father held his hand, nor would he suffer him to leave him for a moment.

Then Hilda's heart was grieved. "The fishes of the stream," said she, "and the little birds among the branches, follow their own wild will, and rejoice in blessed freedom; and this sweet child, so lovlier far than they, walks sad and downcast, his buoyant joy all dashed, and methinks I hear him weep."

Pluck that beautiful flower; look at it a long time. Become conscious that it is the expression of a beautiful thought of some mind. This is the magic key that will unlock the reaAll the flowers are thoughts son of all nature. realized. Pass from the flowers to the trees. The rounded maple, the graceful elm, the straight poplar, the bending willow, every tree is the thought of some kind. Pass from How mighty these trees to the mountains. What realized thoughts! Look at the sea. an undivided thought! Ponder the whole earth. A world of some creating mind. Gaze at the stars. Thoughts line the firmament. Hilda now no more regretted for him the great, how wise, how lovely, how potent, how incomprehensible the spirit whose thoughts are sports of the happy woodland creatures. thus put forth! "The heavens declare theThere is joy," she cried, "in wild freedom, glory of God, and the firmament showeth his but a deeper, holier joy in confiding, clinging. handiwork. Day unto day uttereth speech, love; and this is the picture of the child."

Her eye followed the child and his father through the winding valley. The wild flowers were soon forgotten, for the path grew rough and stony. In an instant the child clung to his father's arm, and Hilda saw him safe folded to his bosom. They approached the moorland; but the child felt not its keen wind, for his father's cloak was wrapped around him, and he was borne safely and gently over every dangerHow ous pass.

"I, too," thought she, "am a child;" and a tear of self-reproach fell from her eye, as she thought how often she had repulsed the unseen Hand that guided her. "How often, when my Father has held me back," said she, "have I begged Him to leave me alone !" "Alone, oh Father," she exclaimed, "forgive thy wayward child, and hearken not to her foolish prayer; let her rather feel the sternest grasp of thy earnest, faithful love." Then peace was breathed into her soul, and in its inmost depths sounded the sweet words of promise, "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."

If Hilda's steps were less buoyant on her return, her heart was more full of peace. Her prayer was heard. The hour of sorrow was near, and the grasp of love grew stern, yet was she not left alone; and in the conscious presence of chastening love, she found a tearful joy, for which no freedom could have made

amends.

From "The Penns and Peningtons."

THOMAS ELLWOOD.

tobiography, that till he was about fifteen years of age his health was so delicate and his stature so small, that fears were entertained lest he should prove a dwarf. But about that time his constitution and physical vigor underwent a change which banished all such fears. From being a small, delicately knit, refined lad, he afterwards became a vigorous, middle sized young man, delighting in athletic sports, but ever averse to what was coarse or vulgar in mind or manners. He relates the following characteristic incident which occurred at that period :

"My father being in the commission of the peace, and going to a petty sessions at Watlington, I waited on him thither. When we came near the town, the coachman, seeing a nearer and easier way than the common road, through a corn field, and that it was wide enough for the wheels to run without damaging the corn, turned down there. This being observed by a husbandman who was at plough not far off, he ran to us, and stopping the coach, poured forth complaints in none of the best language for driving over the corn. My father mildly anThe tutor whom Isaac Penington had here- swered him, that if there was an offence comtofore employed to teach his three eldest chil-mitted, he must rather impute it to his servant dren English being unable to give them instruc- than to himself, since he neither directed him tion in Latin, another had to be looked for. to drive that way, nor knew which way he drove. He who succeeded as teacher at the Grange was Thomas Ellwood, already introduced as the youthful friend of Gulielma Springett; and who with his father, as before related, had visited the Peningtons on their settlement in Buckinghamshire. As he continued to be tutor to the children and an honored inmate of the family for the seven following years, his personal his tory during that period is much interwoven with theirs. It becomes an interesting element in the social and religious life at Chalfont, and we must therefore glance at his antecedents.

Yet added, that he was going to such an inn in the town, whither if he came he would make him full satisfaction for whatever damage he had sustained thereby. And so on we went, the man venting his discontent in angry accents as he went back. At the town, upon inquiry, we understood that it was a way very often used without damage, being broad enough; but it was not the common road, which lay not far from it, and was also good enough, wherefore my father bid his man drive home that way.

"It was late in the evening when we returnEllwood's father was an estated gentleman of ed, and very dark; this quarrelsome man, who honorable descent, whose property and family had troubled himself and us in the morning, residence were at Crowell, about three miles having gotten another lusty fellow like himself eastward from Thame, in Oxfordshire. Thame to assist him, waylaid us in the night, expecting Park was the abode of Lord Wenman, whom we should return the way we went. But when he speaks of as his relative, and a person of they found we did not, but took the common great honor and virtue-at whose table he was always received as a welcome guest. Ellwood says, "I have cause to think I should have received from this Lord some advantageous preferment, had I not been called into the service of the best and highest Lord, and thereby lost the favor of all my friends, relations, and acquaintances of this world."

Thomas was the youngest of the family, and only about two or three years old when they all removed to London as a place of greater safety, on the commencement of the civil war. It was during the years which intervened before their return, that this amiable boy became the playmate of Lady Springett's lovely little daughter. He tells us, in his interesting fragment of au

way, angry that they were disappointed, and loath to lose their purpose, they coasted over to us in the dark, and laying hold on the horses' bridles, stopped them from going on. My father, asking the coachman the reason that he went not forward, was answered that there were two men at the horses' heads who held them back. Whereupon my father, opening the boot, stepped out, and I followed close at his heels.

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Going to the place where the men stood, be demanded of them the reason of this assault; they said we were upon the corn. We knew we were not on the corn, but on the common way, and so we told them; but they said they were resolved they would not let us go on any farther, but would make us go back again. My

father endeavored by gentle reasoning to persuade them to forbear, and not run themselves farther into danger of the law; but they rather derided him for it. Seeing therefore fair means would not work upon them, he spoke more roughly, charging them to deliver their clubs (for each of them had a great club in his hand, somewhat like those called quarter-staves ;) thereupon they, laughing, told him they did not bring them thither for that end. Whereupon my father, turning his head to me, said:'Tom, disarm them.' I stood ready at his elbow, waiting for the word of command; for being naturally of a bold spirit, full of youthful heat, and that fully aroused by the sense I had of the abuse and the insolent behaviour of those rude fellows, my blood began to boil, and my fingers itched, as the saying is, to be dealing with them. Wherefore, immediately stepping boldly forward to lay hold on the staff of him that was nearest to me, I said, 'Sirrah, deliver your weapon.' He thereupon raised his club, which was big enough to have knocked down an ox, intending no doubt to knock me down with it, as probably he would have done, had I not, in the twinkling of an eye, whipped out my rapier, and made a pass upon him. I could not have failed running him through up to the hilt had he stood his ground; but the sudden and unexpected sight of my bright blade, glistening in the dark night, did so amaze and terrify the man, that, slipping aside, he avoided my thrust; and, letting his staff sink, betook himself to his heels for safety; which his companion seeing filed also. I followed the former as fast as I could, but fear gave him wings, and made him swiftly fly; for although I was accounted very nimble, I could not overtake him, which made me think he took shelter in some bushes, which he knew where to find, though I did not. Meanwhile the coachman, who had sufficiently the outside of a man, excused himself for not intermeddling, under pretence that he durst not leave his horses, and so left me to shift for myself. I had gone so far beyond my knowledge that I understood not which way to turn, till by hallooing and by being hallowed to again I was directed where to find my company.

"We had easy means to find who these men were, the principal of them having been at the inn during the day-time, and both quarrelled with the coachman and threatened to be even with him when he went back; but since they came off so badly in their attempt, my father thought it better not to know them than to oblige himself to prosecute them.

"At that time, and for a good while after, I had no regret upon my mind for what I had done, or had designed to do, in this case; but went on resolved to kill, if I could, any man that should make the like attempt, or put any affront upon us; and for that reason I seldom

went afterwards upou those public services without a loaded pistol in my pocket. But when it pleased the Lord in His infinite goodness to call me out of the spirit and ways of the world, and give me the knowledge of His saving Truth, whereby the actions of my forepast life were set in order before me, a sort of horror seized upon me when I had considered how near I had been to staining my hands with human blood. And whensoever afterwards I went that way, and indeed as often since as the matter has come into my remembrance, my soul has blessed the Lord for my deliverance; and thanksgiving and praises have arisen in my heart, as they do now, to Him who preserved and withheld me from shedding man's blood.

"About this time my dear and honored mother, who was indeed a woman of singular worth and virtue, departed this life; having a little time before heard of the death of her eldest son, who had fallen under the displeasure of my father, for refusing to resign his interest in an estate which my father sold. Thereupon my brother desired that he might have leave to travel, in hopes that time and absence might work reconciliation. He went into Ireland with a person powerful there in those times, by whose means he was quickly preferred to a place of trust and profit, but lived not long to enjoy it."

All the circumstances above related had taken place before Thomas Ellwood's first visit to the Peningtons at the Chalfont Grange. About a year elapsed between the first and the second visit of the Ellwoods, when the addresses of Edward Burrough and James Nayler made so deep an impression on Thomas's mind. That impression did not wear off on his return home; but it determined him to see more of the Friends. He says, "I had a desire to go to another meeting of the Quakers; and bid my father's man to inquire if there were any in the country thereabouts. He told me he had heard at Isaac Penington's that there was to be a meeting at High Wycombe on Thursday next. Thither therefore I went, though it was seven miles from me. And that I might be rather thought to go out a-coursing than to a meeting, I let my greyhound run by my horse's side." That meeting and what he heard there, he tells us acted like the clinching of a nail, confirming and fixing the good principles that had before sunk so de ply. Light burst in upon his mind, letting him see .his in ward state and condition towards God. His whole desires, feelings, and trains of religious thought in the succeeding weeks underwent a change. He observes:"Now I saw that, although I had been in a great degree preserved from the common immoralities and gross pollutions of the world, yet the spirit of the world had hitherto ruled in me, and had led me into pride, flattery, vanity, and

A

superfluity. I found there were many plants | danger except in imagination, we had the full growing in me which were not of the Heavenly Father's planting; and that all of these, of whatsoever kind or sort they were, or how spec ious soever they might appear, must be pluck ed up."

(To be continued.)

For Friends' Intelligencer.

What does T. H. S. mean by saying "we should endeavor to modify, revise and conduct the exercises of our meetings so as to render them attractive and inviting to our members"? Though the Editorial in the Intelligencer of Tenth month 5th answers his remarks, may I also be permitted to say a few words in reply? Does T. H. S. want to introduce into our meetings an "exercise" that would in truth be a form?

The letter killeth; the spirit alone maketh

alive.

Nothing can arouse the lethargic among us but an individual faithfulness. The older I grow, the more impressed I am with the form that pervades the so-called churches around us. Surely our friend must have forgotten that to

have been trained in the faith of Friends was

indeed a high privilege. Can aught under heaven be more elevating, more ennobling, than to meet in the silence of all flesh, and in spirit and in truth ask for clean hearts and right spirits? And none ask in vain.

It is because I am weak and faithless myself that I know well the irksome feeling in meeting to which T. H. S. alludes; and full well do I know where the fault lies. Ask, and ye shall receive; seek, and ye shall find. Find what? Do not our hearts whisper, that peace of mind that passes all understanding,-that joy which will satisfy the soul?

R.

enjoyment of the frequent glimpses of the beautiful landscape, which, when we reached the top, burst upon us in its whole and perfectsplendor, combining an accumulation and variety of loveliness such as no country but Rhineland could produce. The "majestic river of legends," lined on either side by rocks and mountains, all bristling with picturesque and poetic ruins and interspersed with vine-clad hills or fertile valleys, formed "a tout ensemble" that would require a Byron to describe, while the ruined castle, whence all this was seen, added a crowning glory to the whole. Our excursion here occupied two or three hours, and after a lunch we proceeded up the river to Remagen, where were some old and interesting churches to visit. One of more recent date was also to be seen; and as we trudged up the steep hills on which it stood, we passed a series of shrines, in all fourteen, each containing a representation of some event in the life of Jesus. A couple of holy monks started to ascend the hill before us, and as they came to one of these shrines, they knelt reverently for some minutes before it, repeating their grisons, and then passed on to the next. This land of the Rhine is full of Catholicism and its symbols, and we see everywhere shrines and crucifixes and holy emblems, and in every church we enter are devotees, kneeling before the altars, or whispering their confessions in the ear of their holy Fathers. From Remagen we had a charming sail of 3 hours along the most beautiful portion of this beautiful river to Coblentz opposite the castle of Ehrenbreitstein, and next morning had a most interesting visit to this stupendous and wonderful stronghold, besides enjoying another prospect equal almost to that from the Drachenfels, and with the added beauty of

NOTES OF FOREIGN TRAVEL, FROM PRIVATE the "Blue Moselle" pouring in its tributary

CORRESPONDENCE.

No. 6.

Heidleburg, 8th mo., 1866. At length we are at the end of our voyage up the "beautiful Rhine," and feel totally unable to express our still increasing admiration and the delight it has afforded us, as day after day we have stopped to explore some ruined castle or picturesque mountain more charming than the last. We now find a fitting climax in the magnificent old castle of Heidleburg, said to be the most extensive and grandest of all the ruins in Germany, if not in Europe. We spent most of yesterday wandering around it, but have not yet seen one half of its beauties. In coming here from Bonn, our first "stage" was an hour's sail to Konigswinter, a lovely, picturesque little village at the foot of the Drachenfels, where we were soon to be seen mounted on donkeys and on our way up the mountain. We had an amusing ride; and as there was no

waters, just 400 feet below us; and we watched the two streams, gliding along, side by side, united, yet distinct in color, as far as the eye could reach. After descending the hill, we still had time for a visit to the oldest church we had yet seen, (it is said to be 1000 years old,) and for a walk through the town, quaint and foreign enough, with its very narrow streets and high, queer, picturesque houses; and we saw here more of the national dress than we had seen elsewhere. The caps, especially, were peculiar and various, and the young maidens were distinguished by a singular ornament, somewhat resembling a large paper-folder, stuck through the back of the hair; this is laid aside after marriage. We took to our boat again at 61 for Capellan, half an hour farther, where we found entrance into a nice, quiet, clean German cottage, and enjoyed the finest possible coffee, chocolate and delicious waffles; and next morning, took another donkey excursion up to the

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FRIENDS' INTELLIGENCER.

castle of Stoltzenfels, a very beautiful royal
residence belonging to the Queen Dowager of
Prussia, and where Queen Victoria was enter-
tained in 1815. We were taken through most of
the apartments, after putting on large, soft slip-
pers to prevent our scratching the floors. They
struck us as particularly comfortable, notwith-
standing their grandeur. Again we reached
the boat at 1 o'clock, and continued on for 3
hours through the same picturesque beauties to
St. Goan. Here we walked up to the ruined
castle of Rheinfels, on a rocky hill, about half a
mile from the hotel. Found it a most interest-
ing ruin, commanding delightful views from
various points; and our guide took us through
strange dark passages, over fearful looking
broken staircases, and showed us some terrible
dungeons, 20 or 30 feet deep, into which in
olden time prisoners were lowered by ropes-
such places as we never dreamed of seeing
here, amid all these beauties. We spent an hour
examining all these wonderful and novel things,
Next
and returned to our hotel to supper.
morning we were rowed across the river to the
village of St. Goarhausen; then a splendid
drive of three or four miles brought us to the
ruin of Rheisenberg, which we rummaged
around much as the last, and back to the vil-
lage in time for the boat again to Bingen, two
hours. The castles and ruins seemed to thicken
as we proceeded and the hills to grow, if possi-
ble, still steeper, and all terraced from top to
bottom with vineyards, and presenting a most
One night here, and
singular appearance.
again took boat, and after several unimportant
stops we reached Manheim at 8 o'clock in the
evening, drove at once to the depot for Heidle-
berg, and arrived at our destination about 11.
We are delightfully situated under the brow of
the magnificent ruin, and have already been en
joying it.

(To be continued.)

"Be ye doers of the word and not hearers only." James i. 22.

An old hermit once came to one of the ancient
fathers of the church and asked him to teach

him one of the Psalms, upon which he began
to read the 39th Psalm: "I said I will take
heed to my ways that I sin not with my tongue;
I will keep my mouth with a bridle while the
wicked is before me." Hold! said the hermit,
as he was proceeding to read farther, this is
enough for one lesson; I will have to study this
for some time; when I have learned to practice
this I will come again. Six months having
elapsed without his calling, the father went to
him and asked why he had not called again.
He replied, "I have not yet learned to govern
my tongue."

Pride can be as insolent in rags as in purple
and fine linen.

THE LADY WHO DOES HER OWN WORK.

very

In this country our democratic institutions have removed the superincumbent pressure which in the Old World confines the servants to a regudim lar orbit. They come here feeling that this somehow is a land of liberty, and with and confused notions of what liberty is. They are, for the most part, untrained Irish peasantry, and the wonder is that, with all the unreasoning heats and prejudices of the Celtic blood, there should be the measure of comfort and success there is in our domestic arrangements. But so long as things are so, there will be constant changes and interruptions in every domestic establishment, and constantly recurring interregnums, when the mistress must put her own hand As matters now are, the to the work, whether the hand be a trained or an untrained one. young housekeeper takes life at the hardest. She has very little strength,-no experience to teach her how to save her strength. She knows nothing experimentally of the simplest processes necessary to keep her family comfortably fed and clothed, and she has a way of looking at all these things, which makes them particularly hard and distasteful to her. She does not escape being obliged to do housework at intervals, but she does it in a weak, blundering, confused way, that makes it twice as hard and disagreeable as it need be. Now, what I have to say is, that if every young woman learned to do housework and cultivated her practical faculties in early life, she would, in the first place, be much more likely to keep her servants, and, in the second place, if she lost them temporarily, would avoid all that wear and tear of the nervous system which comes from constant il success in those departments on which family health and temper mainly depend. This is one of the peculiarities of our American life which requires a peculiar training. Why not face it sensibly?

Would it not be

The second thing I have to say is, that our which women are sent at great expense to have land is now full of motorpathic institutions, to tive muscles. They lie for hours to have their hired operators stretch and exercise their inacfeet twigged, their arms flexed, and all the different muscles of the body worked for them, because they are so flaccid and torpid that the powers of life do not go on. quite as cheerful and less expensive a process if young girls from early life developed the muscles in sweeping, dusting, ironing, rubbing cesses which our grandmothers knew of? A furniture, and all the multiplied domestic prowoman who did all these, and diversified the intervals with spinning on the great and little wheel, never came to need the gymnastics of Dio Lewis or of the Swedish motorpathists, which really are a necessity now. seem poor economy to pay servants for letting our muscles grow feeble, and then to pay operators to

Does it not

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