MY SOUL AND I. And like meadow midst through Autumn's dawn Uprolling thin, Its thickest fold when about thee drawn Let sunlight in. Then of what is to be and of what is done The past and the time to be are one, And both are NOW! 307 JOHN G. WHITTIER. ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON thought, "that in this world, the Christian's white robe would be very likely to be entangled and defiled, if he wore it too flowingly. Our only, safest way," said he, "is to gird up our affections wholly. When we come to the place of our rest, we may wear our long white robes in full length without disturbance for no unclean thing is there: yea, the streets of that new Jerusalem are paved with gold." : ABOUT the river of life there is a wintry wind though heavenly sunshine the Iris colours its agitation, the frost fixes upon its repose. Let us beware that our rest become not the rest of stones, which, so long as they are torrent tossed, and thunder stricken, maintain their majesty: but when the stream is silent, and the storm passed, suffer the grass to cover them, and the lichen to feed on them. RUSKIN. Che Wasted Fountains. "And their nobles have sent their little ones to the waters: they came to the pits and found no water; they returned with their vessels empty." Jer. χίν. 3. When the youthful fever of the soul, Is awakened in thee first, And thou goest, like Judah's children forth To slake thy burning thirst; And when dry and wasted like the springs Sought by that little band, Before thee, in their emptiness Life's broken cisterns stand; When the golden fruits that tempted thee, And thine early visions fade and pass, When faith darkens, and hopes vanish, Though the transient springs have failed thee, Wilt thou sit among the ruins, With all words of cheer unspoken, Till the silver cord is loosened, THE WASTED FOUNTAINS. Up and onward! toward the East Life has import more inspiring It has wrongs that may be righted, Its great battles are unfought, Its great triumphs are unwon. There is rising from its troubled depths, There are aching, there are breaking, From strong limbs that should be chainless, There are words to raise the fallen, There are crushed and broken spirits, Lofty dreams to be embodied, By the might of one strong will. A. C. LYNCH. 309 SOME, by a mistake, call a person absent minded, when the mind shuts the door, pulls in the latch-string, and is wholly at home. A Marriage Letter. THE following letter was written twenty years ago, by a lady of great literary distinction, to her cousin of New York, on the eve of his marriage; and accompanied by a pair of Blue Mixed Stockings, knit by herself as a present. DEAR COUSIN, Herewith you will receive a present of a pair of woollen stockings, knit by my own hands, and, be assured, that my friendship for you is as warm as the material, active as the finger work, and generous as the donation. But I consider this present as peculiarly appropriate on the occasion of your marriage. You will remark in the first place that there are two individuals united in one pair, who are to walk side by side, guarding against coldness, and giving comfort as long as they last. The thread of their texture is mixed, and so alas! is the thread of life. In these, however, the white predominates, expressing by desire and confidence, that thus it will be with the colour of your existence. No black is used, for I believe your lives will be wholly free from the black passions of wrath and jealousy. The darkest colour here is blue, which is excellent, where we do not make it too blue. Other appropriate thoughts rise to my mind in regarding these stockings. The most indifferent subjects, when viewed by the mind in a suitable frame, may furnish instructive inferences; as saith the Poet; "The iron dogs, the fuel and tongs, The bellows that have leathern lungs, But to the subject. You will perceive the tops of these stockings, (by which I suppose courtship to be represented,) are A MARRIAGE LETTER. 311 seamed; and by means of seaming, are drawn into a snarl: but afterward comes a time when the whole is made plain, and continues so to the end and final toeing off. By this I wish to take occasion to congratulate you that you are now through with seaming, and have come to plain reality. Again, as the whole of these comely stockings was not made at once, but by the addition of one little stitch after another, put in with skill and discretion, until the whole presents the fair, equal piece of work which you see; so life does not consist of one great action, but millions of little ones combined: and so may it be with you-no stitch dropped when duties are to be performedno widening made when bad principles are to be reproved, or economy is to be preserved-neither seaming nor narrowing where truth and generosity are in question. Thus, every stitch made right and set in the right place-none either too large or too small, too tight or too loose: thus may you keep on your smooth and even course, making existence one fair and consistent piece-until, together having passed the heel, you come to the very toe of life, and here, in the final narrowing off and dropping the stitch of this emblematical pair of companions, and comforting associates, nothing appears but white, the token of innocence, purity, peace, and light. May you, like these Stockings, (the final stitch being dropped, and the work completed,) go together from the place where you were framed, to a happier state of existence, a present from earth to Heaven. Hoping that these stockings and admonitions may meet a cordial reception, I remain, in the true blue friendship, seemly, yet without seaming. Yours from tip to toe. IN silence mend what ills deform thy mind; STERLING. |