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he was free from any stain of treason; for aggression commenced the contest, and his country called him to the command.
“Liberty unsheathed his sword, necessity stained, victory returned it. If he had paused here, history might have doubted what station to assign him; whether at the head of her citizens, or her soldiers, her heroes or her patriots. But the last glorious act crowns his career, and banishes all hesitation. Who, like Washington, after having emancipated a hemisphere, resigned its crown, and preferred the retirement of domestic life to the adoration of a land he might be almost said to have created !
" How shall we rank thee upon glory's page,
Far less than all thou hast forborne to be! Happy, proud America! The lightnings of heaven yielded to your philosophy! The temptations of earth could not seduce your patriotism."
Glorious spot, the place that gave birth and witnessed the achievments and mighty deeds of the immortal Washington-whose humility, honesty, sincerity and piety, gave him a character that Poet's loved to sing, and historians to record.
Is there nothing in the character of such a man to arouse the sleeping energies of American youths ? Does not his nobleness of mind, and tenderness of heart, attract and persuade us to deeds of benevolence and honor? Who can view the man upon whom our nation's freedom rested and not feel abashed, if selfishness, misanthropy and wickedness have filled his breast. In the heat of battle or the retirement of private life, he forgot not his God; but willingly laid all his hopes, prospects, and life, at the throne of sovereign mercy, and asked to be guided by His will.
It will be the duty of the historian, sage and Christian, in all ages, to let no occasion pass of commemorating this illustrious man; and, until time shall be no more, will a test of the progress which our race has made in wisdom and in virtue be derived from the veneration paid to the immortal name of Washington. J. V. E.
GEMS OF TRUTH.
He that loses his conscience, has nothing that is left worth keeping
Interest speaks all languages, and acts all parts, even that of disinterestedness.
There is a modesty in pure desires after excellence which affectation can never counterfeit.
A SHORT CHAPTER FOR HUSBANDS.
EARNESTLY endeavor to obtain among your acquaintance the character of a good husband; and abhor that would-be wit, which I have sometimes seen practised among men of the world—a kind of course jesting on the bondage of the married state, and a laugh at the shackles which a wife imposes. On the contrary, be it your pride to exhibit to the world that sight on which the wise man passes such an encomium: Beautiful before God and men are a man and his wife that agree together. Eccles. xxv.
Make it an established rule to consult your wife on all occasions. Your interest is hers: and undertake no plan contrary to her advice and approbation. Independent of better motives, what a responsibility does it free you from! for, if the affair turn out ill, you are spared reproaches both from her and from your own feelings. But the fact is, she who ought to have most influence on her husband's mind, is often precisely the person who has the least; and a man will frequently take the advice of a stranger who cares not for him nor his interest, in preference to the cordial and sensible opinion of his wife. A due consideration of the domestic evils such a a line of conduct is calculated to produce, might, one would think, of itself be sufficient to prevent its adoption; but, independent of these, policy should influence you; for there is in woman an intuitive quickness, a sagacity, a penetration, and a foresight into the probable consequence of an event, that make her peculiarly calculated to give her opinion and advice. “If I was making up a plan of consequence," said the great Lord Brolingbroke, "I should like first to consult with a sensible woman.”
Have you any male acquaintance, whom, on reasonable grounds, your wife wishes you to resign? Why should you hesitate? Of what consequence can be the civilities, or even the friendship, of any one, compared with the wishes of her with whom you have to spend your life—whose comfort you have sworn to attend to; and who has à right to demand, not only such a trifling compliance, but great sacrifices, if necessary.
Never witness a tear from your wife with apathy or indifference. Words, looks, actions—all may be artificial; but a tear is unequivocal; it comes direct from the heart, and speaks at once the language of truth, nature, and sincerity! Be assured, when you see à tear on her cheek, her heart is touched; and do not, I again repeat it, do not behold it with coldness or insensibility!
It is very unnecessary to say that contradiction is to be avoided at all times; but when in the presence of others, be most particularly watchful. A look, or word, that perhaps, in reality, conveys no angry meaning, may at once lead people to think that their presence alone restrains the eruption of a discord, which probably has no existence whatsoever.
Some men, who are married to women of inferior fortune or connection, will frequently have the meanness to upbraid them with the disparity. My good sir, allow me to ask what was your motive in marrying? Was it to oblige or please your wife? No, truly; it was to oblige and please yourself, your own dear self. Had she refused to marry you, you would have been (in lover's phrase) a very miserable man. Did you never tell her so? Therefore, really, instead of upbraiding her, you should be very grateful to her for rescuing you from such an unhappy fate.
It is particularly painful to a woman, whenever her husband is unkind enough to say a lessening or harsh word of any member of her family: invectives against herself are not half so wounding.
Should illness or suffering of any kind assail your wife, your tenderness and attention are then peculiarly called for; and if she be a woman of sensibility, believe me, a look of love, a word of pity or sympathy, will, at times, have a better effect than the prescriptions of her physicians.
Perhaps some calamity, peculiarly her own, may befall her. She may weep over the death of some dear relative or friend; or her spirits and feelings may be affected by various circumstances. Remember that your sympathy, tenderness, and attention, on such occasions, are particularly required.
A man would not, on any account, take up a whip or a stick and beat his wife ; but he will
, without remorse, use to her language which strikes much deeper to her heart than the lash of any whip he could make use of. - He would not for the world,” says an ingenious writer, “cut her with a knife, but he will, without the least hesitation, cut her with his tongue,"
I have known some unfeeling husbands who have treated their luckless wives with unvaried and unremitting unkindness, till perhaps the arrival of their last illness, and who then became all assiduity and attention. But when that period approaches, their remorse, like the remorse of a murderer, is felt too late; the die is cast; and kindness or unkindness can be of little consequence to the poor victim, who only waits to have her eyes closed in the long sleep of death!
Perhaps your wife may be destitute of youth and beauty, or other superficial attractions which distinguish many of her sex: should this be the case, remember many a plain face conceals a heart of exquisite sensibility and merit; and her consciousness of the defect makes her peculiarly awake to the slightest attention or inattention from you; and just for a moment reflect
" What is the blooming tincture of the skin,
To peace of mind and harmony within ?
To the soft soothing of a calm reply?
But these, these only, can the heart retain." Your wife, though a gentle, amiable creature, may be deficient in mental endowments, and destitute of fancy or sentiment; and you, perhaps, a man of taste and talents, are inclined to think lightly of her. This is unjust, unkind, and unwise. It is not, believe me, the woman most gifted by nature, or most stored with literary knowledge, who always makes the most comfortable wife ; by no means; your gentle, amiable helpmate, may contribute much more to your happiness, more to the regularity, economy, and discipline of your house, and make your children a much better mother than many a brilliant dame who could trace with Moore, Scott, and Byron, every line on the map of taste and sentiment, and descant on the merits and demerits of poetry, as if she had just arrived fresh from the neighborhood of Parnassus.
Should your wife be a woman of sense, worth, and cultivation, yet not very expert at cutting out a shirt, or making paste, pies, and puddings (though I would not by any means undervalue this necessary part of female knowledge, or tolerate ignorance in my sex respecting them,) yet pray, my good sir, do not, on this account only, show discontent and ill-humor towards her. If she is qualified to be your bosom friend, to advise, to comfort and soothe you -if she can instruct your children, enliven your fireside by her conversation, and receive and entertain your friends in a manner which pleases and gratifies you, be satisfied; we cannot expect to meet in a wife, or indeed in any one, exactly all we could wish. “I can easily,” says a sensible friend of mine, “hire a woman to make my linen and dress my dinner, but I cannot so readily procure a friend and companion for myself, and a preceptress for my children." The remark was called forth by bis mentioning that he had heard a gentleman, the day before, finding fault with his wife, an amiable, sensible, well-informed woman, because she was not clever at pies, puddings, and needle-work! On the other hand, should she be sensible, affectionate, amiable, domestic, yet prevented by circumstances in early life from obtaining much knowledge of books, or mental cultivation, do not therefore think lightly of her; still remember she is your companion, the friend in whom you may confide at all times, and from whom you may obtain counsel and comfort!
Lost—Between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond seconds. No reward will be paid as they are lost beyond recovery!
FOLLY OF PROFANENESS ILLUSTRATED. THE writer was so unfortunate when travelling at one time as to constitute one of nine passengers in a stage-coach, passing from Bordentown to Amboy, who were not the most agreeable companions. They were of a very social temperament, for before we had passed a few rods from the spot where we entered the stage, they began to express their views and feelings with much freedom. One man said he was a Universalist; another said he was a Unitarian; a third dissented from these and stood forth as an infidel. Thus each one advertised himself. Last of all, a venerable man said, “I am an Atheist; a man is a fool who believes there is a God.” The writer thought it not wise to make a hasty avowal of his sentiments. He was, therefore, silent, while the company were not aware that he was a minister of the gospel.
Now began the discussions. Such reasoning! Such self-evident principles! Such logic! Such conclusions from the premises ! Oh! ye logicians and metaphysicians, where were ye on that day! They began their investigations by searching out the worst sort of men to be found on earth. This discussion soon closed, as they suddenly came to the conclusion, unanimously, that Christians were the worst of all people. And of these the Presbyterian church was the worst, and Presbyterian ministers the worst of all ministers.
How deeply I was interested or how much I was edified by such decisions, the reader can judge. But there was one habit prevalent among
them which soon became intolerable. This was their PROFANITY. I had made up my mind to rebuke them for this wicked and senseless practice. In this they were all united, for each man swore most outrageously. The query arose, How can I reprove these men so that the reproof may be felt and remembered? I could not reason gravely with them. This would only provoke their contempt. I could not reach them by quotations from the Bible, for they had no respect for that book. I should find them hard customers to deal with.
While musing on this subject, a thought flashed upon my mind, and I resolved to make an experiment. Turning to the passengers, some of whom listened to the conversation, I remarked, “Gentlemen, I have listened with much interest to your discussions, and have been silent, only now and then proposing a question. I have heard the various and stirring anecdotes that each has in turn related. I have now a proposition to make. It is this: If it will be agreeably to the company, or if it shall not be regarded as obtruding myself upon your attention, I will volunteer to relate an anecdote also.”
“Let us have it, let us have it," was instantly the loud cry from