SUBMISSION TO BE LEARNED ONLY OF GOD. H. MORE. SUBMISSION is a duty of such high and holy import, that it can only be learned of the Great Teacher. If it could have been acquired by mere moral institution, the wise sayings of the ancient philosophers would have taught it. But their most elevated standard was low: their strongest motives were the brevity of life, the instability of fortune, the dignity of suffering virtue, things within their narrow sphere of judging; things true indeed as far as they go, but a substratum by no means equal to the superstructure to be built on it. It wanted depth, and strength, and solidity, for the purposes of support. wanted the only true basis, the assurance that God orders all things according to the purposes of his will for our final good; it wanted that only sure ground of faith by which the genuine Christian cheerfully submits in entire dependence on the promises of the gospel. It CALM BE HER SLEEP. WILLIAM JONES. CALM be her sleep! as the breast of the ocean, When the sun is reclining upon its still wave; She dreams not of life, nor its stormy commotion, For the surges of trouble recede from her grave. Calm be her sleep! as the winds, that are sighing Their last faintest echo amid the green trees; No murmur can reach her- unconsciously lying, She heeds not the tempest, she hears not the breeze! Calm be her sleep! as the flower, that closes Its beautiful petal in night's chilling air! She has folded her shroud, too, and sweetly reposes O, far be the sorrow that dimmed one so fair! Calm be her sleep! as the whisper of even, When the hands have been clasped and the knees bent in prayer; She has chanted her hymn at the portal of heaven, And found the affection denied to her here! Calm be her sleep! may the tall grass wave lightly Above the meek bosom that blessed us of yore; Like a bird, it has found out a region more brightly To nestle its pinion - but glad us no more! THE TOMB. BLAIR. A TOMB, as has been justly said, is a monument situated on the confines of both worlds. It at once presents to us the termination of the inquietudes of life, and sets before us the image of eternal rest. There,' in the eloquent expressions of Job, 'the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary be at rest. There the prisoners rest together; they hear not the voice of the oppressor. The small and the great are there; and the servant is free from his master.' It is very remarkable, that in all languages, and among all nations, death has been described in a style of this kind; expressed by figures of speech, which convey every where the same idea of rest, or sleep, or retreat from the evils of life. Such a style perfectly agrees with the general belief of the soul's immortality, but assuredly conveys no high idea of the boasted pleasures of the world. It shows how much all mankind have felt this life to be a scene of trouble and care; and have agreed in opinion, that perfect rest is to be expected only in the grave. ACTIVE DUTY A RELIEF TO SORROW. HANNAH MORE. In my judgment, one of the best proofs that sorrow has had its right effect is, that it has not incapacitated for business; your business being duties. Under the pressure of heavy affliction it is soothing to the heart to sink down into the enjoyment of a kind of sad indulgence, and to make itself believe that this is as right as it is gratifying; especially while it mixes some pious thoughts with this unprofitable tranquillity. But who can say, even after the severest loss, I have no duties, no cares in life, remaining. Much less can a tender mother say it, who has still so many looking to her advice, and, what is almost more, to her example. It is not the smallest part of the good that you may do them, to let them see what effect great trials have upon your mind, and that Christianity enables you to bear up against such a stroke. It is an excellent sign that, after the cares and labors of the day, you can return to your pious exercises and ineditations with undiminished attention. This will be'a good criterion by which to judge of your state. DIRGE FOR A YOUNG GIRL. JAMES T. FIELDS. UNDERNEATH the sod, low lying, Sleepeth one who left, in dying, Yes, they 're ever-bending o'er her, Forms that to the cold grave bore her, When the summer moon is shining Friends she loved, in tears, are twining Rest in peace, thou gentle spirit, Souls like thine with GOD inherit As the snowdrop comes amid snow and sleet, appearing as the herald of the rose, so Religion comes amid the blight of affliction, to remind us of a perpetual summer, where the bright sun never retires behind a wintry cloud. |