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In the first book of Samuel and nine- ored to comfort and assure the heart of teenth chapter, we find Saul, worked up his friend in so distressing a situation ; by the spirit of envy and jealousy, com- his recognition of David's future elevation manding Jonathan and his servants to slay above himself and his father's family ; David. Here, as on similar occasions, his perfect submission to the will of God Jonathan exhibits the wisdom of a true in setting aside his own claims to the friend, as well as the respect due to a throne; the ingenious plan suggested by father from his son. He first apprizes love to ascertain and inform David of the David of his danger, and then presents extent of his danger; and the solemn himself in the admirable character of a covenant made between them, of which peace-maker. At such a moment as this, God was the only witness—all these inwhen one so unoffending, and so dear to valuable evidences of mind and heart him, was unjustly threatened and perse-' combined, display a refinement of feeling cuted, it would have been natural to expect which defies description. that the language of reproof, or at least The last meeting of these two friends of indignant remonstrance, would have which Scripture mentions, once more bears burst from the lips of the generous prince. testimony to the enduring affection and But no,-he knew “a more excellent unfailing constancy of Jonathan.

- And way," and to that way he betook himself: David saw that Saul was come out to “ And Jonathan spake good of David un- seek his life ; and David was in the wilto Saul his father, and said unto himn, derness of Ziph in a wood. And JonaLet not the king sin against his servant, than, Saul's son, arose and went to David against David ; because he hath not sinned into the wood, and strengthened his hand against thee, and because his words have in God. And he said unto him, Fear been to thee-ward very good. For he did not, for the hand of Saul my father shall put his life in his hand, and slew the Phil- not find thee; and thou shalt be king over istine, and the Lord wrought a great sal- Israel, and I shall be next unto thee; and vation for all Israel; thou sawest it and that also Saul my father knoweth. And didst rejoice: wherefore then wilt thou they two made a covenant before the sin against innocent blood, to slay David Lord : and David abode in the wood, and without a cause ?"

Jonathan went to his house." 1 Sam. Even the hard heart of Saul was not xxiii, 15-18. proof against this touching appeal. In a In the experience men have of human few words he had been shown, at a glance, friendships, it is not usual to find that a David's uprightness, valour, and renown, continuance of what is called misfortune, and at the same time was reminded of the on the one side, contributes to the increase iniquity of conspiring against one who of regard and esteem, or desire to show was so evidently favored of God. The unwearied kindness, on the other. Such pleader proved successful, and for a sea- noble instances of disinterested friendship son Saul was reconciled to David. In are rare—but, when found, most worthy this transaction it seems that Jonathan of imitation. The duty, as well as privsubdued all personal feeling or fear of ilege, of helping and sustaining a falling unpleasant results; he was simply gov- friend, becomes doubly imperative when erned by a desire to honor God, deliver that friend is suffering for righteousness' his friend, and save his father from the sake ; and where the case is thus, even commission of sin. O happy attainment, natural affection should not stand in the when a man can accomplish a hazardous way to oppose the exercise of so laudable undertaking, and manage to forget him- a virtue. We can perceive from all that self throughout the whole of it!

is written concerning Jonathan in ScripHistory tells us that the restless spirit ture, that he was a good son ; but this in of Saul was soon again active in an at- no way interfered with his faithful dealtempt to destroy his intended victim. | ings toward his friend. We find him, David, however, eluded his pursuers by a disgusted as he must have been with the stratagem of Michal's; and after having envy, jealousy, ingratitude, injustice, and fled to Samuel for succour, contrived to cruelty of Saul's conduct, in his place ; see Jonathan. This interview is one of as a subject fighting the king's battles; as the most pathetic ever recorded. The a son taking part against the enemies of tender manner in which Jonathan endeav- | his father, although he well knew that the

kingdom would be taken from him and given to David. And finally we see, that he perished in the path of duty, at his father's side. He neglected not to perform those services for his king and country which his station demanded of him, yet persevered to the last in succoring, comforting, advising, and encouraging David, whom he loved, be it remembered, in the spirit as well as in the flesh.

Had he been spared, days followed which would have given “ the man after God's own heart” ample opportunity of conferring upon his friend and former benefactor every blessing in his power; but there was something better in store for that magnanimous prince. “How are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle! O Jonathan, thou wast slain in thy high places. I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan : very pleasant hast thou been unto me: thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women.

How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war perished !"

So sung and lamented the sweet Psalmist of Israel: and surely we may say, Was " there not a cause ?

I DREAM MY DREAM.
I DREAM my dream: the sullen tide

Is flowing slowly past;
The bark lies on the river side,

Rent sail and drooping mast;
The flowers are fading sad and pale,

That bloom'd upon the shore,
And so I fnrl my idle sail,

And rest upon the oar.
And sometimes sudden tempests fall

Upon the varying stream,
And sometimes sunshine gladdens all,

And I–I dream my dream.
I dream my dream, my lovely dream,

Throng'd with its shapes immortal;
How bright the golden halos gleam

About the mystic portal !
I speak the poet spell I know,

I sign the mystic sign;
Across the holy bar I go,

And all its bliss is mine.
For me the angel voices sound,

For me the soft rays beam ;
For me the music swells around,

And so I dream my dream.
And all that's fair, and pure, and bright,

Around my vision throng;
The people of the realms of light-

“ 'The holy land of song."
I shut the world's fierce clamor out,

I drop the mystic vail,
The din, the riot, and the shout,

To pierce its folding fail.
No tempests threat, no clouds obscure

The soft seraphic gleam;
No shadows cross the radiance pure, -

And so I dream my dream.
And all is warm and truthful there-

As cold and hollow here;
No stains that load our common air

Sully that atmosphere.
The mourners smile, the dead awake,

Upon the dream-land's shore;
The foes the late atonement make,

The loving part no more ;
And silenced voices speak for us,

And hidden glances beam,
And love and duty blend-and thus

I dream my golden dream.

MISERERE, DOMINE.

MISERERE, Domine !
Chant which mortal and immortal
Murmur ever at the portal,
Where doth dwell the Lord of light
In wide halls of chrysolite,

By the shore of heaven's blue sea. Golden August, sun-embrown'd, Blushing purple, berry-crown'd,

Singeth now her songs of glee;
Of a truth her lips are red-
Vintage-crownals bind her head,
Hazel-tress'd; and children cling
Unto mossy boughs, and fling

Fruit upon the ground;
Yet I hear, o'er land and sea,

Miserere, Domine!

Even so— we are not free From the ancient blot and staining On our hearts; though thou art raining Plenty on the joyous earth, Lord of mercy! 'Midst our mirth

Miserere, Domine !
Foam-wreaths on the white sea-shore-
Bees amid the sycamore-

Peaches ripening on the tree-
Beauty of autumnal time-
Merry wild birds' matin-chime-
Harvest-calm and cooling showers :
These delights of earth are ours-

They were given by thee.
Father, all thy gifts are free!

Miserere, Domine !

FIGHT ON, BRAVE HEART, FIGHT ON. Fight onward to the breach, brave heart,

Where victory o'er life is won! To mourn is but the coward's part

Thou hast the warrior's now begun: Pour out thy last, best, ruddiest drop; But till thy wild pulsation stop,

Fight on, brave heart, fight on! The knight of old sought Christ's dear grave,

When joy from earthly home had gone; For this he dared the wintry wave,

And roam'd o'er burning waste alone :
Make thou a wiser pilgrimage
To thine own grave, in youth or age;

Fight on, brave heart, fight on!

THE FRIENDSHIP OF RUTH AND NAOMI.

THE simple and impres

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of the courageous yet modest Ruth never fails to interest us by its moral phase as well as by its oriental incidents. The disinterestedness of her friendship for Naomi is its most touching trait. The prospects which lay before her in accompanying Naomi were anything but promising according to human perception. More natural would it have been, and perhaps more prudent in a worldly sense, to remain in her own land, and mix with those who most probably would soon have found her a new protector and another asylum. But the mind of Ruth appears to have been well-regulated ; and there is a tenderness depicted in the deeds reported of her, which inspires the reader no less with respect than affection for her character. The value of her substantial friendsbip for Naomi consisted in this—it was based on divine principle. She had learned to love the God Naomi loved ; and seemed to understand and feel the spirit of the Scriptural command —“Thine own and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy thy father's friend forsake not.” Here, people shall be my people, and thy God as it must invariably be when another is my God: where thou diest, will I die, to be served, self was forgotten. Con- and there will I be buried : the Lord do sideration of future prospects was not so to me, and more also, if aught but the point in hand. The present question death part thee and me." was this : Ought Naomi, a disconsolate, Ruth was young and robust, as her lachildless widow, to wander to the land of bors in the fields of Boaz testify, and Judah almost an alien, and alone ? No. grudged not the generous toil which Then, the duty being plain, the decision earned the golden grain she wanted for was prompt, and therefore we read that Naomi's nourishment. “ The Lord lookthe fair Ruth was “steadfastly minded to eth on the heart.” She voluntarily dego," which she feelingly asserted in her voted her youth and strength to the service exquisite reply to Naomi's repeated dis- of the friendless Naomi ; and (to speak suasions—“Entreat me not to leave thee, after the manner of men) it was a great or to return from following after thee : sacrifice; but He “who seeth not as man for whither thou goest, I will go; and seeth" had prepared for her a rich recom

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RUTH AND NAOMI.

pense in the love and liberality of Boaz. they carry high up into the air the liquid Had she withheld her compassionate aid film in which they are inclosed ! from Naomi, we might picture the solitary The work which the real scholar prowidow bereft of every earthly tie, mourn- poses to himself is to acquire the greatest fully returning to a scene where she would possible amount of intellectual power for arrive unknown and uncared for, and at a every possible emergency. The way in season of life when there is little left to which he is to do this is by arranging, excite interest in the bosoms of strangers. harmonizing and disciplining the various But the industry, purity, and youthful in- elements of his mind in their proper relanocence of Ruth were instrumental in tions to each other. Now as common opening the way to a bright and happy sense embraces all these original intellectfuture both for Naomi and her gentle self. ual elements, it necessarily holds an imThe power of influence, how great it is! portant relation to any system of educaand when well employed, how good it is! tion. This, to be sure, is a very tame The penniless Ruth held a rich dowry in truth, and always by all men acknowlthe virtues and graces which adorned her edged, though the fact is not so often lowly mind. “ He that humbleth himself made use of as it ought to be. By comshall be exalted."

mon sense we understand the ability which all men have, to some extent, of making

decisions without any formal process of (For the National Magazine.)

deduction. Propose a question to some COMMON SENSE AND SCHOLARSHIP.

men, and they will at once give a correct

answer, though they may not be able to THATEVER else man was made for, give the reasons for their convictions. work. Labor is the inevitable condition force of logic can shake their faith. of his earthly existence. It is true that There is a sort of instinct-a short methin a great majority of cases toil produces od of reasoning—by which the mind goes pain ; but a proper exercise of its func- at once to the conclusion, unconscious of tions always results in pleasure to the the numerous steps by which it arrives worker. Without inquiring, further into there. Ask any blunt farmer, in these the philosophy of labor, we only remark our northern latitudes, on which side of a that it is the obvious policy as well as the particular hill corn will grow most rapidly? duty of every man, inasmuch as he must and though he may have never seen the work, to ask, first, what he must do, and, spot before, and, of course, knows nothing secondly, how he shall do it?

about it by experience, he will, without It is pretty well understood, theoreti- hesitation, tell you the south side. His cally at least, that all effectual labor must reason for the answer, if he gives any, be directed by intelligence. It is from may be that it lies toward the sun, and it neglect of this truth that we so often is the warmest there. In most cases he spend our strength in beating the air—a cannot assign any reason for this latter very tiresome process, by the way, and notion, though he feels sure of what he one that wears out the heart-life of a man states; and, if you press him further, he far more rapidly than the most intense may tell you that “common sense would drudgery which accomplishes the thing teach anybody this fact”—and this would undertaken.

be the whole truth. Now we do not say The scholar has chosen for himself an that there is a complete absence of reason, inheritance of toil; but he has only to or that instinct and feeling at once grasp enter upon it with discretion to make it a the truth, but that mere formal reason, source of pleasure as exquisite as the labor such as a scientific mind would use in is severe. In speaking of the scholar, we explication of the fact, would never have mean the practical scholar-we believe in revealed it to such a mind. no other — for though there are many The fact that men feel some truths scholars " in the abstract,” they are chief which they cannot prove, but which are ly valuable only as specimens of the extent nevertheless demonstrable, shows that a to which intellectual efforts can be carried power of reasoning may be going on in the without effecting anything real; like hy- mind, and we all the time be unconscious drogen soap-bubbles, interesting, because of it. What is more singular still, the

Vol. VI.-21

results of such a process are often more re One of our sweetest poets has sung in liable than those of more formal deduction. didactic strainHazlitt, in one of his essays, tells us of

“ Things are not what they seem;" a man stopping at a hotel in the north of England: he had ordered a dinner of ham still we are inclined to adopt the opinion and eggs, and was luxuriating in a happy of one whose lessons of practical wisdom mood by anticipation. While he waited, we have long since learned to venerate, he saw a man pass the window; soon and disclose on the contrary that “things after, when he sat down to the table, he are just what they seem.” At all events, found himself without appetite, and much had men been more willing to take things depressed in mind, although five minutes for what they seemed to be, we should before he had been keenly hungry and in a have been saved many a bewildering most cheerful frame. As he was reflecting tramp through vague theories, numerous on this mysterious revulsion of feeling, the speculations, and dark inanition which same man passed the window again, and are ever occurring in the “march of he now recognized in him an officer of the mind.” Common sense implies an ingovernment, who held a warrant for his tuitive perception of the relation of things, arrest, which if executed might consign and a correct judgment; and enables us him to the prison or the gallows. He had to discern what is right, useful, and exfelt the danger, at first, though totally pedient in any case that may come under unable to trace the connection of his its cognizance. The man who cultivates feeling with its course, till the second ap- this faculty, reflects upon the facts with pearance of the man and the recognition which experience makes him acquainted, of the officer. Similar instances, no doubt, and forms a series of conclusions of ready suggest themselves from the experience and practical application to human life. of every individual.

He is a judge of things that fall under According to the laws of optics, when a common observation--that come home to man with two good eyes looks upon a the business and bosoms of men.

An emdistant object, he sees it in two different bodiment of this common-sense principle directions——thus apparently making two is almost a marvel among men. No doubt, instead of one. By experience he learns it was this which Diogenes sought when to correct the error, and to regard the with his lighted candle at noonday he object as single. The rational demonstra- looked diligently among the thronging tion of this fact requires the trigonomet- multitudes for “a man." But the old rical solution of a triangle whose base and Cynic might have looked till this time and adjacent angles are given-a process to

still not have found one! not so much which, we are thinking, few small children from their scarcity as that he did not are accustomed—to say nothing of those look in the right place. Such men are of larger growth. Innumerable examples not educated in a crowd—they do not might be adduced, all going to show that form their opinions while carried hither and we are not to make pure reason our sole thither by the excited but fickle throng of guide in practical life or in mental cul the floating populace. To be sure, they tivation. If we attempt this, our whole are not always in seclusion-for they learn existence must be at the dictation of cer the great lessons of wisdom from all things tain definite and unvarying formulæ. If we natural, human, and divine, which approach are to enter into a theoretical deliberation them through the senses or appeal directly on every occasion before we act, it is to the internal man, And thus, whether evident our practical progress will be very alone with God and nature, or observing slow. We do not mean that we are to the workings of the human mind in crowds abandon reason, by any means, but that or in individuals, they are ever feeding the we are to use it in connection with in soul with majestic truths arising from stinct, feeling, intuition. If in any case reflection and the exercise of calm judgreason disagrees with these, we may be ment. sure that something is wrong.

When the The elements of this faculty, we suplatter make their decisions and the former pose, nature has conferred on all men reiterate them, they mutually confirm in nearly equal proportions. The great each other, and assurance becomes doubly diversity arises not so much in the amount This is common sense.

originally bestowed as in the manner of

sure,

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