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The kindling of the aged eye and cheek,
And says---thy will, not mine, be done ;
Say who shall deem them weak,
While he, with every word,
Like the old prophet of the Lord,
They kneel---the trees that God did plant above,
And His bare heavens looking through
Kneel in the falling dew---
With awed, mild earnestness imbued,
Thanks be to God !---the fervent summons rolls
They rise ;---as if one rushing spirit sent
A thousand voices join'd as one,
Went up to heaven's throne,
Nor deem their wisdom vain, who thus have found
Where heaven looks out from Nature's face,
The consecrated place,
And look to Him for aid,
Deem not that wisdom vain which thus can make
Omnipotent to break
But all too long the memory lingers here
Yet not unfit---for half, New-England's child,
Where Soto's weary bands
every clime hath borne her lengthening tie. Nor least--sacred to you and them alike-around The Pilgrim's sacred rock these ties are wound. Still holds and will, the strong fraternal chain, While Gratitude enshrines the name of Dane. But soon these scenes in such faint colors cast Will vanish in the moonlight of the Past. A nation's crowded towns and cultured fields--And rivers freighted with its burdened keels-The later greatness on the historic page, Will come between, and hide that earlier age.
And if some poring student should enquire---
ART. VI.-A WORD TO MOTHERS.
Motherhood is a profession, and the most important one in the world. The medical profession may, perhaps, cure the sick, but mothers prevent sickness; the gentleman of the bar may end litigation, but mothers may keep it from beginning; the clergy may denounce vice, and paint its results, but mothers have almost the power given them to forbid the existence of vice. How is it then, that while Doctors, Lawyers, and Clergymen, study their professions for years, mothers devote scarce an hour to learn the duties and the glories of their place? Is it not a strange anomaly? a most wonderful phenomenon, though so common? You cry out upon medical quacks, denounce steam-doctors as foes to the human race, legalized murderers of their fellow men;--but look around you, and how many of the mothers within your ken are not quacks?—You feel horror-struck at him that ascends the holy desk to instruct others, being himself ignorant, passionate and sensual; but do those that take upon them the holy priesthood of nature, and become mothers, do they purge their hearts, inform their heads, and rule their own kingdom of the body as one should that would take the empire of a child; body and soul both?— Teachers are meeting
throughout our land, wishing to aid one another in their profession; but the first and most mighty of Teachers scarce knows as yet that she is one.
Motherhood is a profession founded by God, and amply endowed with all-enduring, all-doing love; holy and mighty instincts are attached to it, and joys beyond all price: but such gifts were not bestowed without a purpose, God has here, as elsewhere, required much of her to whom much is given; agonies, to which the pangs of the racked criminal are delights, cluster around the faithless mother; horrors, that even the glowing and burning kings of Padalon would shrink from, grow close and closer to her heart and brain. She that sees her boy dying inch by inch of the disease she has planted in him; she that looks upon her beggared son, and knows that her ill-temper and violence brought him to this pass: above all, she that looks, and lo! the child of her bosom growing in vice as he grows in stature; striding on from crime to deeper crime,—the momentary resting spots by the path to hell, until at length the voice, whose infant whispers she taught and answered to,-peals up from the Gulf and curses her for her lessons of guilt,—what woe must she writhe under!
“An orphan's curse would drag to hell
A spirit from on high;" And he, in his home of agony, feels not one tithe of the misery that bows her.
If this be so, (and our picture is scarce colored,) if body, intellect, and heart are, while yet pliant, taking their future character from the mother, why is it that she is allowed to assume her profession ignorant, and worse than ignorant? Women are looked on, one would think, as superfluities; luxuries at the best; made to sing, and dance, to love, and be loved, to make pudding, and sweep the house, and take care of the children, but to do little or nothing of import. The husband must find bread to feed the little ones, and money to pay a stranger to teach the prattlers, but the wife is to see to her servants, and keep the children out of mischief,--that is all. But while this is all, let us not talk of our fathers as barbaric, because they knew not the dignity of woman; for, until we not only see, but feel their immense power in the world, the vast duties, and the need of a thorough discipline of their powers, we too are barbarians;—we too are afar off from an idea of their dignity.
But are not women taught all they need? Yes, all they need to find husbands, for, alas! they need but little for an ad
mission to the practice of their profession. While my friend yonder will not have Dr. A. to physic his boys because he came from College No. 2, where examinations are entirely too slight; and dares not trust their future fortunes to Lawyer B. whose thorough learning he has no faith in,-he never for a moment thinks how mockingly slight was the examination he gave her that has been ruling the bodies and souls of these very urchins.
And when they grow up, he will dwell less upon the qualifications of her that is to marry his eldest-born, than upon the learning of the lawyer that draws the marriage settlement. Such are the inconsistencies of thoughtlessness. Until this is done away, until parents look teyond faces, purses, and accomplishments; and lovers find out what is worth loving; until wives are examined strictly before admitted, we may not hope that mothers will come to their duties fitted to fulfil them, we cannot hope that they will study their profession.
J, H. P.
ART. VII.-LEONARD WOODS JR. AND DR. JOSEPH
“Robert Hall,” says the Rev. Henry Ware, Jr., “as remarkable for his hearty abuse of Unitarianism, as for his talents and eloquence, could not withhold his eulogy of the character of Priestley.” “The religious tenets of Dr. Priestley appear to me erroneous in the extreme; but I should be sorry to suffer any difference of opinion to diminish my sensibility to virtue,
admiration of genius. From him the poisoned arrow will fall harmless. Distinguished merit will ever rise superior to oppression, and draw lustre from reproach. The first Philosopher in Europe, of a character unblemished, and of manners the most mild and gentle.”
The language of the celebrated Dr. Parr, was equally strong. “Let Dr. Priestley,” he says, “be confuted where he is mistaken; let him be exposed where he is superficial; let him be repressed where he is dogmatical; let him be rebuked where he is censorious. But let not his attainments be depreciated-because they are numerous, almost without a parallel. Let not his talents be ridiculed--because they are superlatively great. Let not his morals be vilified--because they are correct without austerity, and exemplary without