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DEVOTED TO RELIGION, LIlLnATlRE, AND GENERAL INT-ELlilGEJ) CE/-"' " " ''^'' - -^1 



VOL. I. . 



MURFREESBOROUGH,- AUGUST 12, ISSl.r 



'ii^i*^ 



[For {he Classic Union.] 

GENERAL EDUCATION NECESSAUr TO 
THE PERPETUITY OF A REPUBLICAN 
GOVERNMENT. 

BT H-UITSOX. :" * 

A Republican Government, when right- 
ly administered, no doubt the best form 
of . government on earth, is one in which 
the people rule. In their hands is the 
power, and to them must the ultimate ap- 
peal be made on all of those great and im- 
portant questions which will at- times 
arise and aiFect the vital interests of the 
nation. It is then of the utmost impor- 
tance that useful knowledge be diffused 
among all classes of people. 

Through most parts of our Southern 
country the numerous schools, colleges, 
and semenaries of learning, are an evi- 
dence of the great interest that is felt on 
the subject of education. And we are 
glad to know, and proud to say, that there 
is a spirit abroad that will lead the rising 
generation far up the hill of science. But 
have we been as anxious to make educa- 
tion genera], as to make it perfect? Let 
us look at the foundation on which our 
scientific and literai-y institutions are erect- 
ed, and see if we have been as careful to 
make that permanent and strong as we 
have to make the superstructure beautiful 
and grand. For it matters not how grand 
he edifice, or how costly the material, — 
though it be reared of marble and gar- 
nished with gold, and its high dome swell 
to emulate the skies, yet if its foundation 
be of sand it. will prove but a tottering 
Bableatlast. 

Our greatest want at the present day 
throughout the whole So\ithern and South- 
western country, is a thorough and prac- 
tical system of common school education. 
A system that will extend the light of 
useful knowledge to every, and the lowest 
individual whose voice may ultimately be 
heard in the affairs of our. countrv. In 
fact, in point of economy, the Luildin"- of 



school houses and educating- the children 
of the poor and destitute,. w6iuld"nd!) only 



be a matter of saving, but it would be. whole pe.ople should be educated, alid 



found a valuable investment of our tnoney. 
For we all know thait it is far cheaper to 
b uild school . houses and sustuin good 
schools than it is to support alms-houses, 
jails, and State prisons. But after "all, 



of the naticKi,, we. mil promise to show 
by the same, bourse of reasoning that the 



your argument, can never stop until it 
Ti«5-ests from ignorance eycry and the low- 
est individual whose voiqe may be 'hcawl 
in the affairs of the country. A few wise' 
nd intelligent pien can very easily 



old is but dross when .compared with ct-ive. and enslave, an igHorant people, and 



the great worth of knowledge and virtue. 
Useful knowledge, diffused among all class- 
es of jieople, is our nation's only safe- 
guard, and the only defence that can in- 
sure a continuance of our hberties* Let 
general education be withheld from the 
people — let the rising generation'grow up 
in ignorance, and soon, very soon, will our 
fair fabric of liberty crumble to the dust; 
and uur civil and political institutions will 
fall to lise no more. 

It is-in vain to contend thai there' are 
always wise men enough 'to administer the 
affairs of government, and therefore it is 



rule over them with a rod of iron. But 
it is not in the. power .of man.y wise and 
intelligent men to save a people from de- 
struction who possess the power and wealth 
of State, and jet grope in the midnight 
darkness of Jgnoranoe. To tliis fiict will 
the history of the .past and the present 
stEite of the woi^d bear the most abuu- 
da.nt. witness. . ". 4k, ^: 

let .us for-si %^-momtnfs call your at- 
tention "to. the- hiatbry of the past. Look 
at ancient Rome, thatonce sat on .the throne 
of nations and railed as mistress of the 
world! But where now is Rome? Sho 



not necessaiy that tlie whole people should ''''* S°°'-' '^°^^ ^° ^^^ ^O"^^ °^ the Capu- 

Icts ! Tiie crown- has fallen from her 



be educated. 

la -a government like oure there will be 
political, parties, and it is iiSot unfrequent- 
]y the case that these parties are nea,i-ly 
equally balanced. At such tim,es, the 
balance of power is in the hands of a few 
individuals. And if that few are ignor- 
ant, illiterate men, they either follow their 
own unbridled will, or are bought orbribcd 
by the ambitious and designing; and in 
either case there is danger. If thei- 
there is danger, in having one hundred or 
one hundred .thousand ignorant, unedu- 
cated men at the polls of your elections, 
there is a proportionate danger in having 
one.. For at, such times, when questions 
of great moment agitate the public mind, 
one.singlo vote may exert an inlluence that 
will affect our exisence as.a nation forever. 
If by any course of reasoning it can W 
shown that there is a necessity fur haviiio- 
one thousand or one hundred wise and 
intolligcct men tu Lidmini.>5ter the ■ .affaijs 



head and' left it naied and bare! The 
hand that held her scepter is palsied and 
cold ! And Rome, with all her greatiicss" 
— with all her grandeur — with all lier 
glory, is numbered among the nations 
[hat were but are no more-. W-hy is it so? 
What destroj-ed that proud and once hap- 
py nation ? Was it because there were 
no wise men in Jiome ? Ko, for there 
were many. Her heros, her statesmen, 
her poets, and her orators, come down 
to us inscribed in the highest nich in 
the Temple of Fame. Her treasury was 
filled with the gold that other nations 
paid as the price of hc]- friendship. . And 
there was a time when the voice of a. 
Cicero, poured forth in the halls of the 
Ronirji Senate, could exert an influence 
that would shake the whole habitable earth. 
But her' people were' ignorant, and that 
ignoraiice proved her destruction. And 
thus it was with ancient Greece, wlio h 
the greatest of her arts and science?; he^' 



CLASSIC UNION. 



literature and leaniiijg come down io us 
unprecedented by a<ny c*hcr"na1i,on. on 
earth. Greece, too, 'had h.er 'heros,- ller 
statesmen, her poets, and her orators.^— 
Aifi (here was a time when the vuioe of 
a, Demosthenes, poured forth in the halis 
of Greece, oould exert an influence that 
would be felt in all the -surrounding na- 
tions. But where now is Greece:? She 
has gone down to the grave, and fill ,.her 
glory has departed.'. Ih-e voice of the 
bittern and the owl is heard in her desola- 
ted walls; and Greece lives, only in fable 
and in song. Why ia it -so, arid what, de- 
stroyed that once most powerful of na- 
tions ? Igxorance ! That one word ■ex-, 
plains the whole matter. Her people (the 
common people,) were ignorant, and that 
ignorance caused her overthrow. ' ' . 

But now let us direct your attention to 
the present state of the world; paid let u.i; 
examine facts as they now exist. 



The last asylum on God's habitable earthy 
to which m:in can fiee from persecution' 
and oppression. . And do you ask why we 
as a people enjoy more of hberty and 
equality than any other nation under 
heaven ? I answer, it is not because we 
have a fev/ wiser or better men than other 
tfations; btit it is because education is more 
general. The light of useful knowledge 
is more widely dlfl'used among all classes 
of people. 

But there is a great" '^ork for us yet to 
do hei-e in our own landV . We hear intel- 
ligent persons speak of the ignorant mass. 
We hear the- would-be-arislocracy talk of 
•tlie ignorance of tJie loioer class. And the 
office hunting politician tells us of a.Jloal- 
iny vote I (A vote that floats in whisky.) 
That vote must be secured to secure his 
election; and it is^too often the case .that 
it. is Lccured by bribery. So long as ig- 
norance and vice go t-hrough our. stieets. 



hand in hand, so long will our country fee 
Go across the migfcty, waters. Look at j ;,^ j^j,,,^,. jf ^^,^ would be safe, perma- 
nently and securely safe, we must extend 
the light of useful knowledge to ono and 
to f.ll. Let us llicn, by ewiry means in 
our power, advance the cause of common 
school Cm uca'.ion. Go into the by -places, 



Ireland, ill-fated Ireland 1 and what is. her 
condition ? With a soil as fertile as Eden, 
and a people iu whose hearts burns the 
natural love of liberty; j'et she lie.s hum- 
bled in the dust. The foot of tyranic 
power is on her. neck, and she cannot rise. 
Why is it so? It is not because there are 
no wise men in Ireland, for there are ma- 



go into the hovels of the poor — aye, if 
need be, go into the dens and caves of the 
earth — wherever degraded humanity finds 
ny. But her people are ignorant, neces- j ^ ^i^gj^gj, ^.^.^^^ ^1,3 ^^^^vi^g^ storm— drag the 
sarily ignorant, and that ignorance is the ' ^.,.etched inmates forth— pour the light of 



sole cause of her degradation. Look at 
Spain, v/ith all her gold and vintage — yet 



u.'-cfal 
minds 



knowledge into their benighted 
—and when the last child of iijnor- 



her palaces and halls run down \viLh the | ance is .enlightened, and the htst votary to 
purple gore. There if a man spealv. hii3 
own thoughts, or declare his own words, 
he mu.st pay for his temerity with i\is 



■ [For the Classic Union.] 
THE SUPKRIOR CLAIMS— AS OBJECTS' 
OF SCIENTIFIC PURSUIT— OF THINGS' 
OBVIOUS TO THE SENSES. 

In modern investigations relating to the-' 
physical sciences an undue importance 
seems to be attached to- the occult and 
intangible. . .Thatwhich is open to general 
observation and within the reach of the 
senses appears to be neglected, not in- 
deed for ike^ speculative, but for .the 
"iao\ecn\a.f' and microscopic, whilst theo- 
ry and probability are discarded, or re- 
ceived with even -an -excess of . caution, 
and the induetionsvof science are made to 
rest wlioUy upon observation and experi- 
ment, the latter are being directed too ex- 
clusively to the intangible and unseen. — 
Verylittle would seem to be considered 
worthy of attention on the part of modern 
investigations except what is only acces- 
.sible by means of the microscope, or other 
ingenious contrivances for detecting phe- 
nomena inappreciable to the unaided 
senses. The attention of the chemist is 
dii'ected to the molecules and atomic con- 
stitution of bodies; physiologists are bii- 
sied with microscopic structures; natural- 
ists occupy themselves with infusoriee and 
animalcules ; while psycho — theologians 
have been called to renew their warfare 
with infidelity on the ground of embryotie 
processes and molecular development. 

This peculiar turn of the scientifie mind 
of the present day would seem to indicate 
about as great a departure from the true 



mode of investigation as that of the theo- 

cc reclaimed, then will your work be j lists o'f the anti-Baconian school, "and it 

and well done. Then will your . is questionable whether it is likely to lead 



Then 
pillion 



Eaa 



head. Go to Enssia. There yon see the 
proud Autocrat ride triunipliaut in llio car 
of State over the "prostrated liberties of 
the people. It is a k;ni of slave.s, where 
the mind of man is bound in chains more 
galling than any that the tyrant can in- 
flict on the bod}-. Eight well does Nicho- 
las know that one ray of light from the' ^^^ ^ 

bright halo ni-ound the Temple of Science i l^^^iM^^ L.-vdie-S.— Some ladies of the 
would brake the chains of his people and ' t^total school, recently tarred and feuthemi 
hurl him from his throne forever. Go to j « doggery Q.i Elizabethtown. Yes, ^«-, 
South America, and there you have Re-' 
publics, but what is their condition ? Thi 



country be safe ! 

Liberty, so. long piiiioii'jl iinl weighed 
down with the triple vi-eii;hts of supersti- 
tion, of vice and ignorance,- rise free as 
air, and soar aloft to dip hisTvings in the 
clouds of heaven, to scatter her blessings 
far and wide and bear them down to na- 
tions yet unborn. 



to much more substantial --results. We 
fsEr tti's tendency will prov§. unfortunate 
for the advancement of science, since it 
operates in rebdion to the dictates of na- 
ture and- true philosophy. 
-In physical science, that which is tangi- 
ble, visible, open to sensible inspection, 
pliould always hold tlie niost prominent 
place as objects of study. , The sensible 
must ever remain the standard of compari- 
son, and in tins respect can never with safe- 



school-boy will tell )'ou that it eould not 
well be worse. Thus -we might go. frpm 
land to land, and in 'every ■ countiy we 
should find the most abundant proofs for 
the position we have assumed. " But -let 
us now direct your attention to our o^'n 
country. .',, , - 

i'roul, happy America I The home of 
the L;i-,:ve an.i .r^-e i The last"r"hiiilowed 
sanctuary of civil and rv'li^^-iou.-; liberty! 



the entire eiid of the unoffending JomicU ty -be abandoned or lessened m .mpoxtance. 
thickly coated -with Dr. Lynch's ^orld Nor are tliey to be lost s.ght of any more 
wide panacea. 'It-had" its'eflect. "They \ for the molecular and microscope than 
[came; they saw, they conquered." He who for the speculative. Let the lattcrbe m- 



kept', the "spiritual, knookings" within, 
took the hint, and went to parts unknown. 
.4, good expedient, that. Let others — but 
iionc; — but ladies, try it. H.. 



-One 



the .'our.- 



,1 E LOT SLY. 

from h-.'.ving a SY.-eethoart, or 
throvnr by (Ju.^picion in:o ;he m^ 
Love. 



ansnig 
, spark 



deed-.p-ursued.so far as upon the one 
iiand they are clearly definable, and on 
the other -ivitiiin.thb reach' of rational in- 
duction; but even thus far only as aids 
to a better understanding of the sensible. 
They cainiot assume an exclusive or prime 
importance "as objects- of investigation with- 
out detriment to science. 






CLASSIC UNION. 



Nature is true to ber visible appear- 
ance, and uniform in her sensate opera- 
tions. Her most obvious form the best 
reveals her character. It is by this that 
she manifests herself to all with singular 
constancy — by this must be -retognized to 
be truly known. This is the criterion of 
Truth; whatever seems to rjiilitaie against 
it may be viewed with distrust, and what- 
ever cannot be made to conform to and 
harmonize with it may legitimately, and, 
indeed, should be discarded. 

Further investigations, and more per- 



the fact of being engaged in the investi- tory. 



Her choisest gifts of truth are with- 

gation of phenomena, by the- use of. ex- , in the reach of all, and she has furnished 

Iraordinary means through which'* world all whh the D^eans,of obtaining whatevei" 

of othervfise hidden mysteries bursts at is of essential value. 

once upon the favored sight, and the aon- f Let none, then, be deterred from the 

sciousness that one. is gazing upon what field of investigation because unprovided 

is and will forever remain sealed from the (.''with the' scientific machinery of modern 

general eye, and tliat perhaps the particu- ] times, the results of which we hear so 

lar object of scrutiny may never receive , muoh talk'about; but let every lover of 

the careful attention of another. Solitary 1 truth go forth in the active use of the 

inquirer, — this is calculate.d_ to induce, means at his hands, encouraged by the 

with the most trustworthy, a.state of men-; refieetion that tliese means, riohtly cm- 

tal excitement prejudicial to the cause of ployed, are- the most reliable, and the 

feet instruments may materially modify, | *''"* '"^ ''''^ S*^"''''^^ ^'^'^■''^=^°'P^™«' "''''V best suited to the ends in view, and that 

if not altogether overthrow inferences | ^'^'^'"^^^^ "^ '''^S''''^'^ ^° P^^"''^'^'^'':-- { the objects within their reach are the great 

built upon the imperfect -and often decep- j , We cannot, in moments when the mind . ^ud assential objects of pursuit. B. W. 

tive observations njade through the medi- j '^ most tranquil and imimpassioned, look ' ' 

urn of artifical apparatus; buMhose truly i intently upon t^e variegated -scenery, of a! MILTON" O'S HIS LQS3 OF SIGHT. 

based upon the phenomenain Nature, dis- landscape, or .-'lie -cJoud=:mottl€d expanse I ™°" ^^ oxfoed edition- of milton's wohks. 

covered by the instruments which she has I above, wilhoulr B6on . i-ecogtiizincf , what ,, . 'I am oW and blind! 

. . , , , .-,,,-- -Li. V ' 1 j> j-i J- .. -, i-'Men point-at me as smitten by, God's frown; 

furnished, must stand esscHUally uuchang- might be taken tor the fonns of defimte Afflicted..and dosci tc-d of my kind, 

cd. As these instruments admit of no. and familiar objects; and as we'oonijnue to' Yet lam not cast down. 

improvement, but are in themselves per?, .gaze those forms become as:- it were alii- J ' i am weak, vet stroii'^; 

feet, or at least infinitely more so thati' i'iate,and seem to move as 'endowed with- J, "''"™^''°°* "^^* ^ '""l"""'-'*" °'^'^'' 

,-, . /.-,,., -, , „ ., • J 1 , . -, , ■ Poor, old, and helple^is, I the more belong, 

anything of the kind capable of construe- 1 independent existence and voluntary mo- ., .' ~ 



tion by the highest ingenuity of art, so tion. What then shall be said of the lia- 
•will the information derived through them bility to error and illusion in the- excited 
prove proportionally more certain and cor- and enthusiastic search -of nejv -'wonders 
rect. The field of vision, for instance, in the field, of a microscope magnified. 



may indeed be vastly increased by the ajd 
of a powerful microscope, yet it will be 
found that in the ratio by this increase 
will the individual objects become vague 
and distorted. Hence it is so many mi- 
croscopic discoveries, so called, have pow- 
er to be but the creations of imagination, 
and it is probable that many now received 
.as genuine ought to b^ classed under the 
same head. 

A prominent source of error connected 
with the pursuit of science through the 
medium of artificial helps, is found- 
ed in the natural disposition of mankind 
to abuse their influence and per^-ert the 
instruments of power of which they may 
be' supposed to have exclusive possession 
to wrong purposes. Possessed of moans 
of investigation beyond the reach of" the 



thousands and even millions of times, — 

where the dim outline of a drop of water, j W,^,ped!n raXnce fromthy sinless land 
for- instance, is stretclied to an ocean ex- 
panse! 



Faljier Supremo, to Thee. 

- ; O merciful One! 

"U'lien tiicn are farthest, then tho'a ait nioet near; 
When friends pass by, my weaknessto shun, 
■'. OhM seem to stand 

In a purer clime. 



Trccablirg; where foot of mortal ne'er liath been, 
"' " ' adiance froiii 

"V\niich-ey e hatli never seen. 



Visons come and-go; 

But the prominent importance of -the | Shapes of resplendent beai.ty round me throngi 
1 ■ j .- .,,. .- - ,. Frora angel lips 1 seem to hear the iio-\v 

obvious and tangible in nature, as objects! > ^ of s^ft and holy soii^'. 



of study, is still more stronglr indicated 



frbm this source. Nearly every thing in the ^,,„ ifeaverr ^"^gj ? "S^^ sigh.less eye. 



it is-notlnng now. 



^V'leii airs- from Paradise refre-fli my brow— 
'■»fc The. earth in darkness lies. 

^ Thy^duriousT.ice 
Is leaning tov.-ards mc, and its lioly light 
Shim.'S iii,,upon my lonely dwelling place — 
And there -isiioTupre night. 



natural world bearing markedly upon the 
wellbeing of society, -whether ns-a rneans 
of- enjoyment or practical utility, whether 
affecting mankind physically, intellectu- 
ally, or nrorally, is discernable by the 

nakedsenses. To be otherwise would in- 1 „ , , v,'-' 

, On mv bended knee-,~ 

deed be deplorable. There would be no-! I reconizethv jiuipose, clearlv'sbo-wn: 

bility of letters based upon wealth. The I ^'^ ^^'*°":^' Tyi^?f tl^fine'' ^ ''''^ ''" 
treasures of science would be monopolized | ' 

rhavn-noiiirht (o foar: 



byamonicd aristocracy. The few who' 



This dai'kncss is tlie shadov." of ihy wing; 



-could poijsess the more complicated and- 3^'ueaihit I am almost sacr 



mass, it would not be surprising if ambi- pontierous. scientific engines would hold 
tion or interest should palm ofiF innumera- ' the ballance of power, obtain sovereio-htv 



ble counterfeits upon the community 

But supposing scientific men to be uni- 
versally and scrupulously honest — wholly 
uninfluenced by tlie temptations which be- 
set hunjan nature in general- — exempt 
from that wide spread, if not inherent pro- 
pensity in the race to magnify things, to 
promulgate novel and information, to dfsr 
tort and give a new. and singular aspect 
to facts, and even la create '-'startling dis- 
coveries,'" fjr publi" ^^ondera1eu(--vf! 



C-an come no evil ihinij 

Thy charoit J hear, 
ily being fills with rapture — -wav.es of thought 
-fioirin upon my spirit — strains sublime" 

Break over me unsought. 

Give me no-\r my- lyre! 
I feci the st.T.-ings of a gift divine, 
.VYJlhifi'my. borom glov.-s unearthly fire, 
- . --.'Lit by no' skill of mina. 



in the empire of. knowleiige, and btseojRe. 
the masters and depositories of whatever 
were most valuable as conducive to hu- 
man comfort -and enjoyment, while the_ 
great mass of mankind Vv-culd be com- 
pelled to wait upon "them the- Humble re- 

recipien.ts of theit btiunty. ■' "Hat .such is . ; Doctor, op DiriKiTi". — The degree of 
flot the case. Nature is rcpublio-an in prin- D. "D. was cojiferred on the Rev. Samutl 
ciplc. Her immun-i.res extend' to 'the Baker, Pasfor of the first Bapiist Church, 
humblest. Etjual rights and previ-leges Nashville, "by Union University at its re- 
.nic procLiimcd Ihrougb.out her 'vast fc-rri- c^nt comnicnccmeiji. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



UNION ITNIVERSITT. 

It is within the memory of man, nay, 

one geneiation has scarcely passed away, 

since there was no literary institution of a 

high order in Tennessee. Nashville Uni- 



versity, the first, and for a number of ' (.|jg j.gg^jf 



the plan, some fifteen years ago, of estab- 
lishing a College embracing as many good, 
and as few bad qualities as the experience 
of the past, and the circumstances of the 
case would permit. Union University is 



yltv 
1848, 



years, the only one of any character in the 
State, has, until recently, kept up a dis- 
tinct organization, under that title, since 
the year 1 8^6. 

As two Universities were once consid- 
ered 'abundant' for 'all Britain,' surely it 
was thought one be sufiBcient for the small 
territory of Tennessee. The number of 
charters for new Colleges, nevertheless, 
in a short time swelled to two or ihree do- 
zen, thus evincing that the one already in 
existence was not enough. Many of these, 
however, for want of sufficient endow- 
ment, accessibility, suitable location, or 
some other cause, dragged out a feeble, 
shortlived existence, little supeiior and of- 
ten inferior in their appointments to the 
neighboring Academy. 

It is believed that but few institutions 
under State patronage, although furnished 
with teachers of learing and ability, and the 
most ample means, have been permanent- 
ly successful in the United States. Strict 
as is the supervision of those that may be 
considered exceptions, it is not half as strict 
as that of the great Arbiter— Public Opin- 
ion. Merit alone can pass its ordeal. — 
With an earnestness not to be denied ask 
for the murdered hopes of their old age^ 
the prospects blasted, temporal and eternal, 
of their beloved children. 

Most Seminaries of learning that have 
been doing well, are located in compara- 
tively small villages, subject, however, to 
one serious objection — boarding in com- 
mons — where they are debarred from ma- 
ny of the refining and elevating influ- 
ences of society — a practice believed to be 
productive of much of that recklessness 
and moral obliquity so often, and frequent- 
ly with justice, urged against College stud- 
ents. With a fair allowance for the buoy- 
ant exhilaration of feeling natural to youth 
and who would wish to mar those halcy- 
on days of life? Under proper moral and 
social influences, they will favorably com- 
pare with any class of men similarly situ- 
ated. 

Upon a review of all the elements of 



t was regularly organized in January, 



students has constantly and rapidly in- 
creased from about 60 to 181, a number 
greater probably than ever connected with 
any sinTilar institution in the State. 

Annuas Commencement. — The third an- 
nual commencement is just over. The 
examination continued from tke 7th to 
the 1 5th, and was far more thorough than 
any the writer ever witnessed, and those 
have not been a few. To say that the young 
men acquitted themselves well; doing 
credit to their instructors and exhibiting a 
degree of intellectual training as rare as it 
is invaluable would perhaps, be awarding 
them sheer justice. 

Dr. Winston, of Nashville, (on Tues- 
day evening) delivered to a large and in- 
telligent audience in the Baptist Church, a 
chaste, beautiful, and forci'jle addj-ess to 
the two Literary Societies on the inflii- 
ence of Republicanism in the moral and 
intellectual development of man. 

We would willingly subjoin extracts, or 
rather the whole-address of Dr. Winston, 
and also the Inaugural Address of Prof 
Shelton, delivered on Wednesday morning 
to a crowded house. But as both are to 
be published soon, we will only delay the 
banquet of our readers for a time. 

The addresses of the Graduating Class 
are highly spoken of; the Baccalaureate 
of President Eaton, was such as might 
have been expected, as a phrenologist re- 
marked, from his massive intellect 'pow- 
erful and to the point.' 
Mtsic. 
Prayer— By the Rev. W. C. Buck. 
Music. 
Inaugural Address of Prof. Wm. Shelton. 

Wm. H. Harris— Salutatory. 

Wm. John-on— ^Immortslily of the Soul. 

F. A.-Ashrord— Conflict of truth and error 

F. R. James* — Superiority of Intellect- 

G. E. Eagleton— lean, ean I? 

Wm. H. Harris — Contemplation. 

T. P. Crawford* — Foreign Missions. 

D. B. Hale*— Our Country. 



THE COLLEGE 'MUS.' 
Many years ago 'Harvard' was imder 
the superintending care of the "very 

mathematical" Praeses, W . It may 

be imagined that the coercive part of dis- 
cipline and instruction so popular in that 
day lost none of its terrors in his hands. — 
So precise and mathematical was he that 
the boys often amused themselves by 
counting the number of steps he took in 
going from his house to the college and 
back, which they averred was ahuays one 
hundred. From this he was never known 
to vary except on oik; occasion. 

The matin bell had called to prayer. — 
During the ceremony a poor college mouse, 
probably for the purpose of obtaining his 
breakfast, ran among the benches well 
filled with youths whose countenances 
were sufiiciently solemn, but their eyes 
had a certain nei-vous twinkling- not to be 
mistaken. The noise and confusion pro- 
duced by so unusual Ti visitor may be con- 
ceived better than described; But so 
great a contempt of the Praeses could not 
be passed over. After prayer he, with 
ominous voice, exclaimed — 

"Quis dishxi/iiiJ" 

A Sophomore, just arrived, with de- 
mure and cast down look, to the surprise 
of all, made the candid but fatal reply, 

"Ego, Doinine." 

"Qua re?" thundered the President at 
the trembling culprit. The youth meak- 
ly and with measured cadence replied, 

"Mus eurcurrii jilenum sed. 
Contra meum magnum ad." 

The shout that greeted this sally drown- 
ed all "Academic thunder," and the Pre- 
sident's steps to his house were said to be 
fewer and faster that evening than ever 
before. 



an eminently successful Institution-ampk, j ^^ Thomas-Progress of Republican 
endowment, strict supervision, thorough 



teaching, accessibility, rigid accountabili- 
ty, a good location, healthy and situated ift 
a highly moral community, and at the 
same time suflliciently central — the friends 
of sound education, and religion, formed j 



ism :iiid Valedictory. 

Baccalaureate Address — By Pres. J. H. 

Eaton. 

Prayer — By Bev. S. Baker. 

■* Ext.- used 



THEOLociicAL STUDENTS. — The Baptists 
have 9 Theological Seminaies in the U- 
nited States, with 19 Professors and 123 
students; being an average of 12 students 
to each seminar}', and 6 to each Professor. 
While the Presbyterian and Congregational 
seminaries have an average of 50 students 
connected with each. So says the New 
York Recorder. _ H. 



Fanaticism. — The Western Episcopa-- 
lian alludes to a Prayer book for cLillren, 
recently put forth by the Epicscopal S. S. 
Union, vrhich teaches, among, other objec- 
tionable things,, that little children who 
have not been baptised should not say the 
Lord's Prayer. The reason assigned is, 
we cannot say, ' ' Our Father," till we have 
been admitted into the church by this 
sacrament. H. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



y 



[From the Ctiristian Review of July, 1851.] 

ON THE SIGNIFICATION OF KTISIS. 

Bom. Tin. 19-22. 

For tbe earnest expectation of the Creature 
v.'aiteth for the manifestation of the sons of 
God- For Ihe creature -was made subject to vani- 
ty, not willingly, but by reason of him who hath 
subjected the same in hope: because, llm creature 
itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of 
conuption into the glorious liberty of the chil- 
dren of God. — [Eecciced Version. 

Professor Stuart, in his Commentarj' on 
tlie Epistle to the Romans, and in the 
Biblical Repository, vol. I. p. 363, eu-ume- 
rates no fewer than eleven different signi- 
fications which have been attached to the 
term ktisis in the above passage. The 
larger part of these will not, however, re- 
quire any long consideration, , To name 
is to answer many of thein. \- No one will 
be in danger now of supposing that it re- 
fers to "the souls of the jDlanets," as Ori- 
gen held, or ''angels" "good" or "bad," 
or "Adam and Eve/' or "the souls of be- 
lievers," or their "bodied'." ' . , 

The opinion that it denotes "Christians," 
(either Jewish or Gentile, or Christians in 
general, ) though upheld by Barnes and 
some besides, would otherwise seem but 
little entitled to consideration, since in the 
19th verse the Hius is carefully distin- 
guished from the sons of God, for whose 
manifestation it is represented as waiting. 
So also, after in the 22d verse represent- 
"ing it as groaning and travailing in pain, 
the apostle adds, in the 23d verse, "And 
not only so, but ourselves also who have 
the first fruits of the Spirit." Here Chris- 
tians are plainly distinguished from the 
ktisis. 

To obviate this last objection, some have 
indeed supposed the clause, "_w6 who 
have the first fruits of the Spirit," to niean 
not Christians in general, but "we who 
are endowed with miraculous powers." — 
Such an interpretation, however, is fra 
fetched; for those endowments could con- 
fer no such special happiness as might be 
supposed to exempt their possessors from 
the longings common to all the children of 
God after a more perfect state, or afford a 
reason why thej^ should be separately 
specified from all other Christians. If the 
context were not suflicient to exclude thfs 
sense, the term itself would hlirdly endure 

so forced and'unwonted a signification. 

It never is so used, except in connection 
with "new creature," nor is it easy to con- 
ceive how it could be. 
■ There are, then, but three vicvv's, accord- 
ing to Professor Sluarfs catalogue, -which 
remain to be considered. I. That Jdisis 
here refers to unconverted men in distinc- 
tion from the, sons of God;-or, II. Mankind 
in general; ar. III. The irrational creation. 



I. In favor of the first opinion, i. c, 
that the term in question refers to uncon- 
verted men, it is urged that it and the cor- 
responding word in Rabbinic Hebrew are 
sometimes used derogatively, as for the 
heatten, or any degraded individual or 
class; just as in English it is vulgarly said, 
"The creature refused to be instructed." — 
It is also said that Mlsis is here piit in con- 
trast with "those -who have received the 
first fruits of the Spirit," and must there- 
fore refer to the unconverted. 

But it -will determine us against this 
construction of the passage, to remember, 
1st. That this, though a possible, would be 
a very forced rendering of the term. 2d. 
That the apostle does not contrast "those 
who have received the first fruits of the 
Spirit" with the Uisis, but-only advances 
from one specification to another. "And 
not only so, but we who have the first 
fruits of the Spirit, even we. ourselves 
groan," (fee. 3d. Nor, further, is there 
any reason why it should be specially pre- 
dicated of the unconverted that they" are 
subject to frailty, while the rest of man- 
kind are equally so. 

In deciding between the two remaining 
opinions, (and it is between these that the 
great body of sound critics are divided, ) 
nothing decisive can be argued from the 
term employed. Nor is tlie general train 
of thought very much affected by either 
interpretation. The subject of the apos- 
tle's remark is clearly expressed in the 
18th verse: "The sufferings of the present 
time ar<; not worthiy to be compared with 
the-' glory" which shall follow. In the 
four, or "five subsequent verses, St. Paul 
enlarges upon the glory which shall fol 
low at tlie manifestation, of the-sons of 
Gjd, rcpVeseniing it as so great that the 
whole creation, and even Christians, are 
anxiotisly waiting for the event. 

II. Shall we then understand by the 
whole creation here, that mankind in gen- 
eral are earnestly awaiting this period, or 
consider it a bold prosopopoea, by which 
the earth, the sea, and the whole of the 
irrational creation aire represented as anx- 
iously looking for the removal of the 
curse, and a participation in man's glory? 
Either of _these views ma-j- comport in a 
measure with the apostle's object; which 
most appropriately and forcibly, we shall 
see hereafter. 

1st. In favor of the former of these -it 
may be said, (a.) That it well ctgrees with 
the usiis loquendi, as the term is frequently 
used in the New Testatment for mankind 
only, apart from the irrational creation. — 
Thus,, 'Mark x. 6: "From the beginning of 
the creation God made tbcm male and fe- 



male. For this cause shall a man to leave 
his father and his mother, and cleave to 
his wife." Here the creation seems plainly 
to refer to the creation, not of the earth, 
sea, air, which are not male and female, 
nor yet irrational animals, but of man- 
kind. Again, in Col. i. 23, the same 
terms-are employed as in the 22d verse of 
this chapter to assert that "the gospel was 
preached to every creature which is under 
heaven,-" as also in Markxvi. 15: "Preach 
the gospel to every creature." In these 
cages, "mankind" is plainly intended, not 
the irrational creation; and why, it is ask- 
ed, may it not be so used here? "All 
human creatures sigh together and are in 
anguish even to the present time." 

(5.) It is urged also in favor of .this 
vifew, that such are the feelings of man- 
kind. There is in man naturally a long- 
ing after immortality, and an expectation 
of a higher, better state of existence. In 
support of this, heathen writers are ap- 
pealed to. Numerous passages from 
Cicero, Seneca, and other authors, have 
been quoted, and easily might be multi- 
plied, in proof of this general longing and 
expectation. 

(f.) This sense, it is said, also well 
agrees with the apostle's argument, since 
it would tend greatly to support our hopes 
in the future state, that the expectation of 
it was universally felt by mankind, and 
that their frail and unhappy condition evi- 
dently pointed to it. This view of the 
passage is supported by McKnight, Light- 
foot, Stuart, Whitby, and others. 

2d. Many oljections, however, are made 
to such an interpretation. (a.) It is 
urged by Tholuck that the ktisis is here 
represented as expecting a specific Scriptural 
event — the manifestation of the sons of 
God, the resurrection; not a vague, un- 
known immortality; that the two are alto- 
o-ether different, so that the desire of man- 
kind for the one is totally different from 
the longing here described after the otiier, 
to which the mass of mankind do not look 
forward with hope. 

But this objection is hardly conclusive, 
for, as Professor Stuart remarks, "It ig 
not necessary for the apostle's argument 
to show that they look for this (a future 
state) in the way that Christianity would 
direct them to do, nor even that they have 
good grounds personally to expect a hap- 
pier condition in future. If even the 
wicked who love the world are not satis- 
fied with it, and are made to sign after an- 
other «nd more perfect state, then follows 
the conclusion which the apostle designed 
to urged, i. c, that God has s'.rongly ini- 



6 



CLASSIC UNION. 



pressed on our whole race, that there is a 
better state, and that is highly needed.".' ■ 

(i.) With more force it i.s objected, that 
ii is not here the ohject of the apoMe to prove 
in any way the doctrine of. a future, exist- 
ence, but only to keiff7iteti our conceptions of 
this state, already firmly ci'edited.. The 
theme is, "our present sufferings are not 
worthy of -comparison v.i^h the, glory which, 
shall follow.:" The force of subsequent, 
passages, according to- Professox S.taart's 
supposition, is to prove a truth fully be- . 
lieved in. But according to the. other 
opinion, i. e., that the whole fabric of na- 
ture is to ba renovated in sympathy with 
this manifestation of the sons of God, our 
conceptions of future glory are heightened, 
and present suflcrings shown unworthy of 
comparison with it. 

(c.) A further objection is drawn by 
Mr. Hodge from the 20th verse: "For the 
creature was made .subject to vanity, not 
willingly, but by re;ison of him [that is, 
God, according to Mr. II.] who hath svib- 
jected the same in hope that the creature 
should be delivei'ed," &c.- It i.s argued 
that it cannot be saiJ of man, that he was 
brought into his prerent state not by his 
own act or willingly. • 'Nothing approach- 
ing this can be said of the world of sin- 
ners." But this is sti'ained. For how- 
ever voluntarily he committed that which 
subjected him to this state of frailty, yet 
this frailty was the unwished for efl'ect of 
■]us own conduct. 

(d.) There is, however, a different 
construction of tliis verse, much to be pre- 
fcn'ed on many accounts to the common 



(c.) Again, it is a strong objection to 
this view of the term, as has been remark- 
ed in considering another interpretation, 
th-at a very clear distinction is made be- 
tween the htisis and Christians. 3'hiis, 
in- the ISth verse, it is represented as 
"waiting for the manifestation of tfie sons 
of God-." "The whole creation groaneth 
and: travaileth in pain together until now, 
and.- not only so, hut ourselves, also.'' Surely,. 
this must forbid the idea that Misis here 
nof only embraces but> is.' "vei-y largely 
made up of the sons 'of God. - 

(/.) Further, the represen,t.ation here 
is that the Misis shall, partalie of the glo- 
riotis liberty of the sons of God';;: for it is 
plain the apostle does not mean to assert 
that the most of mankind were exj^ecting 
to partake of it, only to be disappointed. 
But it is not the case that mankind as a 
whole will participate in the felicities of 
heaven. 

in. Yv'e come, then, at length, to con-' 
's;idef -the rnterpretation which supposes 
this term to mean the irrational creat'on as 
a whole. This is on many accounts grea.t- 
ly preferable to the one last mentioned. — 
It is the most obvious and generally re- 
ceived opinion; is the view of Chrysostom, 
Theodoret, and others among the early 
couimentators; Erasmus, Grotius and Lu- 
ther in the sixteentli century, and Flattt,. 
Tholuck, Scott and Ilodge of the prest 
day. 

It also seems to give a more appropriate 
and dignilied sense to these verses. To 
heighten our conceptions of the glorious 



, ir ■ ,, , ., , , : period to which he refers, the anostle, b'V' 

one, and otienng a far more forcible ob- ' ' ^ ^ ' .' 

jection to this interpretation. Let thi 



■ passage be read thus: "The longing ex- 
pectation of the creature waiteth for the 
manifestation of the sons of God, (for the 
creature was made subject to vanity, not' 
willingly, but by reason of him wlio sub- 
jected it,) in hope that the creature," ore. 
Thus the htisis is represented as waitin.:; 
in hope, having been subjected to frailly 
■_by the evil conduct of man. This better 
accords with the general Sciiplure repre- 
sentation: "Cured is thegrounJ: for .thy 
sake." "Because they have transgressed 
the law, therefo;-e the curse.hath- devoured 
■the land." "How long shall the land 
mourn, andthe heibsof every {iel.d'\Vith«r 
for the wickedness of fheni that - dwell 
therein?" Thus regarded, this verse will 
ofl'fcT a ver.y serious difficulty tci. P}-6fc,ssor 
'S.uurt's I'eading'of klisis; for i[_ j^e who 
's'.ibjcctrdthe l/isishg in)^n, tho'htis!s sub- 
jected must, it should seem, be something 
besides, man, the iri'i.tional creature, pri- 
marily at least. 



a prosopopceo well suited to the strength 
of his vigorous ideas, represents the whole 
cxeation with outstretched neck awaiting- 
the removal of the curse, and rwatchipg 
for the manifestgtiDn of- the sons of God. 
How subhme a sense is this. How frigid 
the others we have examiiied, compared 
to it. 

And it well coincides with the general 
leprcsentations of Scripture; ,v/hich con- 
stantly speaks of nature as . sympathizing 
inutile glyry of /man. '.'The .wilderness 
aiid-thii sohtai'y-pla€e\shall_ b£ glad for 
thejn;.- .aiid the,- desert shall rejoice and 
b'ojsom as the roie. The wolf- also -shall 
dwell with the. lamb, and- the leopard shall 
lie dqsvn^with the kid, and the calf, and 
-theypung lion, and the fatling together, 
and a little child shall lead them." So 
also jn.Rev. xxi. 1; "I saw a new heaven 
and a nc-vr earth." If, as Professor Stuart 
insists; v/e must tak43 this language as 
merely figurative., and not at all to be liter- 
acy fulfille 1, it may be replied that there 



can be nothing improper in constructing 
St. Paul's representation as equally meta- 
phorical. But however figXirative some of 
these passages may be, taken in connec- 
tion with others they teach a renovation of 
the earth corresponding to the future holi- . 
ness of the redeemed. 

Thus Heb. xii. 26, 27: "He hath pro- 
mised', saying, Yet once more I shake not 
the earth only, but also heaven. And this 
word. Yet once more, signifieth the re- 
moving of those things which are shaken, 
as of things that are made, that those 
things which cannot be shaken may re- 
main." Again in the second of Peter, 
iii. 12, 13: "The heavens being on fire 
shall be dissolved, and the elements shall 
melt with fervent heat. Nevertheless we, 
according to his promise, look for a new 
heaven and a new earth, wherein dwelleth 
rii/7ite.ousness,'' ,. Let this language be con- ■ 
sidered in connection with Acts xiii. 21, 
where "the restitution of all things" is 
spoken of. This renovation of physical 
nature is to be as real and literal, then, as 
the destruction of the old world by water. 
Yet Professor Stuart would avoid the force 
of these passages by saying, "To dra-w 
the conclusion that a new creation of the 
heaven and the earth means here a ne'w 
literal creation made out of the old one,, 
and difl:ering from the first only in degree 
of perfection, would be the same as to ar- 
g,ue that because the Bible represents a 
Christian man as being born again, raised 
from the dead, created anew, therefore his 
spiritual change in regeneration is to b.e 
regarded as being literally one." 

If indeed the doctrine of the renovation 
of the earth needed confirmation after the 
pgssagcs which have been adduced, refer- 
ence might be made to the tmiversal be- 
lief of the Jews on this point. Or it 
might be said that since the beginning of 
tiiie, no particle of matter has ever been 
annihilated; that we might safely beheve 
therefore that the world will ever exist 
in some state; that geology shows us that 
it-has already undergone a series of im- 
proving changes, and thatconsequently.it 
seems highly probable that after a more 
|. thorough purification by fire, it shall ex^ 
hibita beauty and order to which it has 
not yet attained. It is not asserted who 
shall then inhabit this world, further than 
that therein shall dwell "righteousness;" 
that physical nature shall sympathize and 
partale in the.glory of the manifestation 
of the sons of God, as she has long been 
subjected to vanity by the fall of man. 

It has been objec-ted that the figure is 



CLASSIC UNIOJ?. 



too strong, unnatural, -unlike tlie apostle ' Tliis view of the sen^e of the 



above ker cliild finish lier education immeJiatch-( 

Z:i:::Z^^;Z'Z '^;^\.'c^:.n^f \ jer. see^s^ee fro. ever, obiection. ^d i ^:;^£!?;^^JS^^ £ -^ 

occurring in the sublimest parts of the sa- furnishes the sejQse most exacily m^c- ■ • - 

cred writings. , "Let the heavens rejoice, Kcdrdanc^^vfth the general' views of the 

and letthelartb bs glad." "Let'tiie field j apostle: and' the scope of t^is particular 

be joyful, and all that is therein." "Then | passage. ?.« .^_; f. c. - 

shall all the ti-ees of the wood rejoice." — 

"The mountains and hills shall break forth 



before you into singing, and all the trees 
of the field shall claptheir hands." One 



School teachers of music, French and 

drawing, 'rtiat child at fifteen will liave 
finished her cduccdon. She then plunges 

into.all the frivolities of fashionable life.— » 
,The parents _probabIy hope that by the 

time she is seventeen she may be married. 
1 Now what can such a mother do with a 
I bov? By the time he is seven years old 

he will despise her, and of course refuse 



A GREAT SftSTAK-Er ^ ' 

BY REV. JOHN S. C. ABBOTT.' 

There is, in many families, an impres- 
, s:on that the boys soon grow beyond the I tQ Qijey her. Judging' ef all other moth- 
of the most chaste and eloquent ot mou- j mgi-jier-s control or influences, and that j ^.^g ^y the silly thiag he is forced to call 
em writers, Robert Hall, in his so much i ^hile it is" expected that the gnrls should ; mother,- he will feef no respect foi- the fc- 
admired passa"-e in his sermon on the j still be obedient to their mother,^ the sons | m^le sex. Passion will remain. A life 
J *i (• Ti P^„„o=c Pl,.;.rlnttp parvies ! '"^^^"^ ^.t a -certain age be left to the ' of diisipation, early death, and endless 
death of the Pnncess Charlotte eaines , ^^^^^_^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^^.^j^^» ^^^^ msUmt-\,^^ are almost the inevitable result.- 
out to greatei- length the same kind ot Hg- 1 jy ^^gyijjjjjjjj^tljg. feeling that they are wiien a young lady fs seventeen years of 
ure; when speaking of the loss of a single.j above the mothers authority. The moth- ' ^ge, if slie enjoy good health, slie is just 
soul he says; "Were the whole fabric of ; er feels that she has no power to govern | Vjeginniug to have that vigor of mind 

. , ,„ ■;^,^url- n.7,rl nnral them; the father IS away, and his whole i ,,iiicii enables her to make intellectual ac- 

nature.to become ammai,<i «"^ '°^«'; | ^,-^13 engrossed with other cares; and q^isHions. . Two or three years then de- 
wouldit be possible for her to.^ ut.er a | ^j^^ ^jQyggj.g.jjjp._,^j,(,g^j.^l3-fj^ Tliis is the ,yoted energetically to study, will store her 
groan too deep, or a cry too piercing to ij,fluential cause of the _ruin of thousands ; mind' with treasures which will be more 
express the maomtude and extent of such ': of families. _ -' '! valuable to her thaii mines' of gold. She 

, " , <,.f '_ I The idea is a totally erroneous one, thaf ^^.^iije ^jjug poi^ to command a husband's 

a ca.astropnt . _ ■' a son bv'nature feelsthat there isau infc-,' j.^speet and to' retain his love. Her chil- 

Fmally, it is urged by prolessor biuait, , ^.j^^.j^^ j^ a woman, and tlfatitisnot man- . dren will feel that t they have indeed a 
that by this interpretation. Christians . are j'-iy to obey his motlier. , The natural feel- mother. Her home will be one worthy of 
represented as in a frail and dying state, i ing is just the reveiae, and. a judicious ^ the name, where a mother's accomplished 
and earnestlvdesirino- to be dehvered from 'motlier can retain control, ever a sou as „,ind and glowing heart will diffuse their 

' ... ?'„.,i „„,.i:i ,,„t ,i,p,long as she can over a daughter. Indeed, : heavenly influence. ' - 

It; so also is the natuial solid, j et t he . ^ ^^^^.^^j^^^^^ed young mail feels a peculiar An angel might covet the mission which 
world of rational bemgs in general who ,^.^^^q in being obedient tp^ his mother. — ,3 assigned to a mother. Your child, who 
are not regenerated are not even mention- j There is a chivalrous, feeling, a sense of , thints°of finishing her education at six- 
ed This°obiection has wei""'ht. ; honor, connected with siich submission, 'teen, may soon have entrusted to her keep- 

°' ^-j.g.! which is highly pleasruable to every in- jng and culture a son, innvhose soul glow 

ious mind. ; the energies of Hilton; or of IS^ewton, or 



IV. The fairest way seems to be 



gard Idisis as signifying the irmttmai ae- , j^^ f^j.^^ ^^.^^.^ j.Qung man wants to be of Waslungton. God did not make her 
'mUion inchcsively and primarily, lut not al- . proud of his mother. He loves to feel under merely to play a waltz or dance the polka. 
together to the exclusion of human Jm;^s; ' her control. He delights in having a mother ; gjig is created but a httle lower than the 
who also join in the universal anxiety of I ^J^o's capable and worthy of guiding him. ■ angels. . When the warning stars expire, 
. •' .^^ . , ,.(v, ,,. , I Aru;l she who virtuallv abandons the gov- , she is still to go carcenno- on m immortah- 

expectation. >one of the diftculties "^e- i ernmcnt of her boy just as he is entering ty. Apreciale the the^cxaltation of her 
longing to an exclusive application of this , ^pgn the fiery temptations of impetuous nature, her duties, and her destiny. Let 
term to men as distinct from the rest of ^ youth, inflicts upon hinl an irreparable in- ^ot the noble intellect where dwells her im- 
■creation will apply to this-inte-rpretation. 'jury, and is almost unpardonably traito- mortality be unheeded. The years of youth 

m 1 f .i< u-„^t;...„o „.„iri v>o =i,r, ! rous to her sacred trust. Get the entire are soon aone. The moments in which a 

Two only of the ob ections couid t)e sup- . , ,• 1 --i i • ^i r, ,f „,,,;„-i ""-""^"a ,. ^ i. .• -l r 

•' ^ ' control of vour child in the earliest pel lod youno- lady can attract attention bv a few 

posed to do so; namely, those marked [e.) ^f j,;^ infancy. Hold on upon that ,con- , jupeiiicial accomplishments are as' tians- 
and (/.) : trol by afject on, and firmness, a«id deci- 1 jgjjt as the morning dew. But there are 

In reo-ard to the former, i.e., that in I sion, as years glide along, and your son jify. long cares and responsibilities which 
the 19th\nd 23d verses, a distinction is \ will love you, and by its virtues bless yoti, • ,vill weigh upon her.- And when she has 
• *T, /*■ ■ „„^"k„i;o,.ov<: i while you live, and adore your memory ; passed through her three score years and 

IS taught between the Mms and beheveis, | ^,^^^ ^^^ ^.^^.^ .^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^/ - I^^ ^^.^ venerable in age, she sits by the 

and therefore that we may adopt any in- j ^ndthis should be kept-in view by eve- ' fi'reside, with her children and grandchil- 
terpretation of Msis which will embrace |j.y mother in the education of her daugh- dren around "her, accomplibhc^ icholi:rs 
them, if it be considered that believers ' ters. She is to be trained up to a wife and and honorable statesmen may be among 
form but a small part of mankind, and ' a.niother. ' If she has a weak, mind and a their number, who shall assemble in her 

,. J , i, ■ ,. „f : ,.„„4-„i, ■' frivolous education, and has been, prepar 

mankind only a small part of creation, it ■ ,4 1 • ^ - u-i ■ 1 * v. • ^^^ 

■> ■' fcd merely to shme while in • her teens in , ence. 

can afi-ord us no surprise that they shoul-a .^j^^ ^-^^^^^^ ^f pi'ea«ure and.oslentatioh,.and 
be brought oat from so subordinate a posi- fashion, Avhat vail hecome of her, when 

tion, and their feehiigs as- a distinct class her children, g-athcred arotihd her knee, .. . j -- --,-- 

recorded - ' - ' ' ^"'^ ■'^^'' ^"'^ growing into vigorous boy- more profitable they are, and all farmers 

' . ,, 1 . . ,-„- ^ ' hood, with an energetic mind, is laokiug. work for profit. 

. In regard to the only remaimng difiicnl- _ ^^ j^^,^. ^^^ intellectual guidancef He feels ■ Sow clover deep, it secures it against 
ty. (/■)—t^^'' ^l^e /./(5is IS represented m- ashamed of his mother. He is mortified , "the drought. 

pliedly as actually partaking of the glori-- at the indications that a woman is but a Cows well fed in winter, give more milk 
ous liberty of the sons of God,— it will be i weak animal, who was never intended to in summer. 

sufficiently trueof the -[Y.V<,«..^..toful- 1 be^'i intellectual- companion for man. ; When you you see the. fence down put 
- •'. , .... I I was recently conversing with a lady it up, .it it remains imtil to-morrow, the 

ly to justify tnc reman:,— of the irraiion- ;^ j^. . ^^ York, who had by her side a slen--.. cattle may get ov«r. 

good jder, pale, pensive looking child of thirteen, i What ought to'bedone to-day, uo it, 



chamber with emotio.n of loje and rever- 



The better animals canbe fed, and the 
more comfortable they can be kept, the 



al creation entirely, and of all the 



who form the type of humanity. 



: The iaJv said flic was anxious to ha-ve ' f?r to-morrow it innv ram. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



THE SUXSHINE AND THE SHADOW. 
■ I saw a little child, so gentle and so 
briglit, lie was like ci star upon the earth, 
and wheresoever he went, light followed 
him. And light rested upon all things 
that he touched — and it was a wonder- 
ous light. I saw him beside a~ pebbly 
brook, and the waters gleamed in a new 
beauty; he dipped in his little dimpled 
hand, and the drops that he splashed from 
his ros}' fingers glittered with such a 
sparlde, that he laughed with a glad laugh. 
Oh! the beautiful waters; he was very 
merry with them. And the light fell up- 
on the stones under the water, and th«y 
shone like diamonds and rubies; and the 
little child gathered many of them and 
felt very rich; and he seated himself upon 
the green earth, and played a long tmie 
with his beautiful pebbles. Presently a 
butterfly came along, and the light from 
the child fell on the gay butterfly. And 
oh! such beauty! The chdd- thought he 
'■never seen any thing half so beautiful; he 
watclicd it with a wondrous love; he would 
not move; but his large- loving eves rested 
on it, full of hope and desire, for he saw it 
Hy from flower to flower, sipping the hon- 
eydew. And a large buttercup bloomed 
very near to him, and his light shone full 
upon it; and he hopeduhat liie briglit but- 
terfly would come and drink out of that 
yellow cap, and he would better see those 
beautiful wings. And the butterfly felt 
the light that was around the little boy, 
and so it feared not, but came and rested 
in the plea.sant flower so long that, the 
boy's desire was satisfied. 

And now he heard a bird sing, and iii^h 
a song! It seemed as if the light from 
the little boy fell upon the birdie's song, 
fir it was tlie merriest and" s\y.eetest that a 
'child ever heard. And now the child's 
mother came; and he sprang to her with 
such a loving joy, clasped his arms around 
her, rested his little sleepy face on her bo- 
som — and the angel thoughts passed over 
his face in dream-smiles. And the light 
of the child rested on the good mother, 
and she, too, was beautiful, because she 
'liad a good child. 

But I saw another one, and I looked in 
v;iin for the hght. There was none ; but 
wheresoever' he went a dark shadow fol- 
lowed him. All tried to' please him: — [o 
make him happy — but the shadow fell on 
the costly toys they gave him, f;nd they 
became broken, useless fragments; and 
on the cakes and candies, and chang- 
■ed them to hurtful poisons which, when 
lie had eaten fliem, made the shadow , 
■much moie bl'ack. And then he, too, 
was taken put into the beautiful conn- i 
try, but llie pebbly brook, wiih its jiret- j 
ty waters, became a mere niuddv si ream, ' 
with earthy stones, under that dark slia- 1 
How, ' 'fhe happy butterfly was chased I 
from every flower upon which it lighted, I 
till at last its wearj- wings gave out, and it| 
was snatched by a rude hand and became I 
a loathsome mass. Oh! it was hideous in | 
that black shadow, 'iho birds flew tremb- 
ling awaj- — they could not sing, or if they j 
hid, the shadoAv would not let the boy ; 
dear fhe sweet sounds. Even the flow- 1 
CVS dil not look at all beautiful ; so he t 



whipped off their dehcate heads with a 
switch. 

And now the mother came for this tired 
boy, too, but he struggled and cried; and 
the shadow fell upon the mother, and 
made her so unbeautifulthat I could look 
no longer, for I saw her sieze the switch 
thathad so cruelly used the sweet flowers, 
and I did not wish t<3 see what she was 
going to do with it, and I wished to .escape 
I'rom tlie shadow. 

Little children — the-sunshine was Love, 
and the shadow was Hatred. — Liille Truth 
Teller. ' -' 



THE CHAPLAIN'S SERMON. 

EV B. H. COLEAP. " ' 

Tliore's sorrow ou the sP.i, boys, 

"When storuLS are liowling round; 
Tlipre's sorrow when the frantic winds 

In di.smal chorus sound! 
7 ]i'-ire's sorrow on the Roa, boys, 

When tempests whistle by. 
And troubled Wiitors rage a-lea. 

And thunders peal ou liigli. 

Tljore's sorrow on, tlie sea, boys, 
'When gallanttars are slain. 

Yet falling in their countiy'g cause, 
A crown of glory gain;' 

Tliere's sorrow wiien a shipmate dies 
Far from his native laud; 

.There's sonnw ^\'hen the -pitying crew 

. -ArQiuid hislianinioclc stand. 

There's sowow on tlie sea, bovs, 

'Whau'faminc marks our days. 
■When every moss-mate's famished look 

The cannibal betrays; 
There's sorro\v on tJie sea, lioys. 

Yet landmen have their care. 
G ) wliitlier you may please, boys, . 

And sorrow \A-ill be there. 

There's sorrow on liie sea, l^oys, 

lUit tliatslniUsltortly cease, 
And we a port sljaU finel, boys. 

Where reigns eternnl peace; 
There evej'more.shall we, boys. 

At anchor safely ride — 
No short allowance there, "boys. 

But every want supplied. 

iVjid there shall we enjoy, boy.s, 
The great Commander's law, 

That all wlio do tlieir bast, boys, 
'Shall dijuble rations draw; ' 

And every one new rigged, hoys. 

■ Gn qua'rter-declc phaflbe — 

No more shall we complain, boys, 
"Tliere's sdi'row on- the sea." 



A Be-Vo-tu'Cl Thought. — The great 
Leveller. The sea is the largest of all 
cemeteries, audits slumberers sleep with- 
out monuments. All other graveyards, 
in all other lands, sliow some symbol of 
distinciion between the great and small, 
the rich I lie pour: but in that ocean cem- 
etery the king and the. clown, the prince 
and the -peasftiutj.are alike distinguished. ^- 
The sooie waves roll over yll — the same 
requiem by the mhislrelsj' of the ocean is 
,suug to their honor. Over their remains 
the s.anie storm beats, and the sanie sun 
shines, and tliere unmarked the weak and 
the powerful, the plumed > and the honor- 
ed; will sleep on until awakened by the 
same tnimp-when th^ sea shall give up its 
dead.— (ri'^fs. ... 

"When is profanity innocent"? Answer — 
When a man has astream running through 
his firm nnd herten.'! it. 



BOYS OUT AFTER NIGHTFALL. 
I hare be'en an observer, as I am a 
sympathising lover of boys. I like to 
see thoai happy, cheerful and gleesome. — 
I am not willing that they be cheated out of 
the rightful heritage oryouth. Indeed I can 
hardly understand how a high-toned use- 
ful man can be the ripened fruit of a boy 
who has not enjoyed a fair share of the 
glad privileges due to youth. But while 
I watch with a very jealous eye, all rights 
and customs which entrench upon the 
proper rights of boys, I am equally ap- 
prehensive lest parents, who are not fore- 
thoughtful, and who have not habituated 
themselves to close observation upon the 
subject, permit their sons indulgences 
which are almost certain to result in their 
demoralization, if not in their total laiin; 
and among the habits which I have obser- 
ved as tending most surely to ruin, I know 
of nonemore prominent than that of pa- 
rents permitting their sons to be in the 
streets after nightfall. It is ruinous to 
their morals in almost all instances — they 
acquire, under the cover of night, an un- 
healtliful and excited state of mind; bad, 
■yulgar, immoral, and profane language, 
obscure practices, or criminal sentiments. 



awless and-j 
in the streefisi 
principally J 
bad capacity foj 
lute, criminal 
this particular haye. 
flexible rule 




aring; indeed it is 

tfall that the boys 
education of the 

liig rowdy, disso- 
Parents should in 

ost rigid and in- 
that jvil! never permit a son 
under any circm?3st.auces,j|(pfhateyer, to 
go into thejifcei after nightfall, with a 
view of enga^m|nn 'out of door sports, or 
meet other boys for social or chance oc- 
cupation. A I'igid rule of this kind, in- 
variably adhered to, will soon deaden the 
desire for such dangerons practices. Boys 
should be taught to have pleasure around 
the family centre table, in reading, in 
conversation, and in quiet amusement. — 
Boys, gentlemen's sons, are seen in the 
street after nightfall, behaving in a man- 
ner entirely destructive of good morals. — 
J'athers and mothers, keep your boys at 
home at night, and see that you take 
pains to make your homes pleasant, at- 
tractive, and profitable to them; and, 
above all, with a view of their security 
from future destruction, let them not be- 
come, while forming their characters for 
life, so accustomed to disregard the moral 
sense of shame, as to openly violate the 
Sabbath day, by indulging in street past- 
time during its day or evening hours. — 
A True Friend of Boys. 

^S' Mr. Nelson, at the Statistical So- 
ciety, latch' gave an estimate of the num- 
ber X5f drunkards in England and Wales, 
from which it appeared that the number 
of males was 53,583, and females 11,223, 
making a a total of 64,806, which gives 
one drunkard to every seventy-four of the 
male population, one to every four hun- 
dred and thirty-four of the female, and 
oneth one-hundred and forty-five of both 
sexes; 

The road to immortality is as rugged as 
the one which leads to bread. The gate- 
keeper is Envy^ — the toll, Health, 



CLASSIC UNION. 



,®I)C diasBic liliiion 



"Nisi domiiius, frustra." 



M. HILLSMAN, 

AND THE FACTLTV OF UNIOX UXIVEKSITY, 

Editors and Proprietoi's. 



TUESDAY, AUGUST 12, 1851 



THE CLASSIC UNION. 

In bringing before the public a new pa- 
per, it is proper tbat we should slate its 
principles, explain its designs, and other- 
wise indicate its general character. 

The press is admitted to be the great 
■engine of power by ■which the public miiid 
is directed and controlled.- Traces of its 
influence are descernable on alnnost all clas- 
ses of society. Where it is directed by 
principles of a pure morality and with 
fidelity to society it is capable of produ- 
'cing the most salutary results for the cause 
of virtue and human happiness;"! ;If it.%e 
destitute of these . benign principles, it 
loses none of its power to eft'ect and 
leave its impress on society but being 
-directed in a different channel-; it becomes 
as mighty for evil. Entertaining these 
Tiews of the influences of t^ie public press, 
and a corresponding responsibility of those 
Tvho conduct it, we have prescribed to 
lourselves in the management of the Clas- 
sic Union thegreat prin^les of ti-uth and 
benevolence. Conformity to these princi- 
ples will secure our readers at least against 
pernicious influences. 

Being more or less closely connected 
with the educational interest of the conn- 
try, and especially those of the Baptist de- 
nomination; and having 'access to the 
minds of many young persons of both 
sexes — those upon whom the futui'e glory 
of the Church and the Nation in a meas- 
\ire depends, we have been induced to 
believe that through the medium of a pa- 
per well designed and properly conducted, 
the double object of promoting the cause 
of education and science in general, and 
iastilling into the minds of the young 
important principles for the gov&rn- 
ment of their future livCS and usefulness 
might be secured. We have also 
been impressed with the belief that 
there is a vacuum in the Periodical Litera- 
tui-e of the South and West which mig-ht 
be filled with interest and profit to the 
■community at large. With a view of reach- 
ing these results we have been induced to 
commence the publication of a paper de- 
voted to Education, Literature and Reli- 
gion. 

While there has been made, great ad- 
vancement, in the interest taken by the 



people in the subject of education, still 
there is a great deficiency in energy, liber- 
ality, and well directed, schemes for pros- 
ecuting and carryfng out .the convictions 
of the public mind. The age in which we 
live, and the responsibities which devolve 
upon the people, require a better organ- 
ized system of education, and an enlarged 
liberality to have their wants fully met. — 
It will be our object to write and publish 
such articles, and keep our readers so in- 
Ibrmed as to inspire greater zeal in so 
commeirdable a cause. 

We shall also publish both original and 
selected,"' such liiterary pixsductions as 
will aflbrd pleasure to the schollar and 
man of taste. As a Religious paper, we 
do not appear as the organ of any denom- 
ination; but as an independent journal, and 
.shall therefore be free from those discus- 
sions which are a necessary- part of de 
noniinational papers. Articles designed 
to cultivate the piety and inculcate a love 
for the pur-e principles and doctrines of 
the Bible, will occupy mitch of out pages, 
'^''e shall also occasioiially furnish criti- 
cisms and well written articles on various 
sifbjects in Christian Theology. 

That- we possess any peculiar fitness-for 
tho task imposed upon oursel.ves, aside 
from the position^ we occupy laefore the 
pubUc, is not pretended. We are con- 
scious of inexperience and a great want of 
competency to effect what w,e desire> but 
with application and industry we hope to 
be not altogether unsuccessful in our 
task. H. 



PRESIDENT EATON. 
Pesident Eaton has taken a tour through 
North Alabama and Mississippi, and will 
return through the Western District of this 
State. We trust he will form many plea- 
sant acquaintances among our brethren in 
these regions of country, and that they 
will find in him the man under whose di- 
rection the}' will be pleased to place their 
sons. It would not be modest in us to re- 
commend Prof. Eaton v«ry highly, as we 
might be thought interested, which is a 
fact. We therefore say to our brethren, 
and all others, where he may pass, see 
him, and hear him, and judge for your- 
selves. H. 



APOLOGETIC. 
" We regret the necessity of accompanj'- 
ing. our first issue with an apolog}% jus- 
tice however, to the gentlemen connected 
with the editorial department, and upon 
whom the labor of furnishing its matter 
principally devolved, requires us to say 
their necessary absence rendered it impos- 
sible for them to bestow any attention to 
the getting up of this number. We tliere- 
fore ofler it as a specimen of the general 
character of the paper rather than of its 
literary merit. H. 



-aiOME AND FOBEIGX JOURNAL." 
We have received the second number of 
of this paper, published at Richmond,, 
Ya., by H. K. Ellvsou, and edited by the 
Secretaries of the Domestic and Foieign 
Mission Boards of the Southern Baptist 
Convention. It contains much valuale in- 
formation on the subject of Missions, and 
should be in the hands of every Baptist 
throughont the land. 11. 



MINISTERIAL EDUCATION. 
Union University, during its last session, 
be.stowed gratuitous instructions on can- 
didates for the ministry, worth, according 
to the regular charges of the institution, 
over $400, and during the last three years, 
to upwards of $1500 hundred dollars! — 
From these figures, the Baptist Churches 
may judge what the University is doing for 
them, and form some idea of the impor- 
tance of vigorously sustaining it by dona- 
lions and pupils. Several graduates have 
already gone forth to blow the trumpet of. 
salvation to a perishing world, and to en- 
gage in the great contest between truth and 
error. If the churches will do their duty, 
and place the college on a firm basis, at the 
increasing rate at which candidates for the 
ministry are making application for an ed- 
ucation, it will only be a few years until 
every church will be supplied with an ed- 
ucated ministry! At this rate is not every 
dollar invested in the institution returning- 
a profitable income to the churches? But 
to keep up this encouraging state of things 
there must be large additions made to the 
'Treasury of the University. There will 
necess'arilly be a large amount of the fund 
subscribed for its endowment, never col- 
lected. This is always the case with such 
subscriptions, and it will be the case with 
ours. This deficiency must be met. Will 
wealthy and liberal minded brethren not 
meet it and place the institution on a firm 
basis? We beheve they will/ H. 



THE PRESENT NUMBER. 
We take the privilege of sending the 
present number of our paper to many of 
our friends who are not subscribers, with 
the hope of inducing them to send us their 
names. Those desiring us to continue 
their names as subscribers will apprise us 
by sending their post ofii.ce .address, 

H. 



10 



CLASSIC UNION, 



^■'Thk greek lanqtjage. 

.ITiie jgiportance of a knowledge of the 
'Gsetli, especialiy to the minister joMlie 
Go!5pel, fs vrni^rsally admitted. It^iswitlie 
language, iii which tlie doctrines an^teach- 
lings of Christ and his Apostles — in Tyhich 
ii?ie whole plan of man's r(^dcmption — "was 
orici'inall)' recorded. To be able to ex- 
amine and understand the inipprt of e^ery 
word or form of expressidij used, by the 
inspired authors of the New Testament, 
is certainly an important acquisition. For 
however correct a translation of the sa- 
cred Oracles we may have, and however 
sufficient it may be for unfolding' the plan 
of -salvation, and teaching us our diUy to 
God, it is impossible, in a translation, al-i 
ways to present the comprehensive ful^ 
ness of meaning contained in the original. 
He, therefore, who can read the word of 
God in the language in which it was writ- 
ten, can attain asuperior understanding of' 
it, over him v,ho cannot. 

'Every minister should make himself suf- 
ficiently acquainted with the Greek, to be 
able to read and translate for himself the 
words of inspiration. Nor is the acquisition 
difficult. One of the greatest difficulties 
in the way of this knowledge has been 
gradually being removeJ, until it now 
imposes no obstacle to complete success. 
The elementary books of the Greek, wfere 
formerly written almost exclusively in the 
Latin language, which made it necessary 
for the student first, as a preliminary meas- 
ure, to learn that- language, or to learn 
two languages to gain acknowledge of one. 
This was unneoesBary, as the learned con- 
cede, for a better understanding of the 
Greek, and only served to cumber it, and 
deter many from its study who otherwise 
would have been disposed to it. Eventlie 
Latin scholar finds he can proceed to the 
study of Greek, with greater facilitj',' di- 
rectly from his own native tongue, with-, 
out the intervention of the Latin- Ac- 
cordingly teachers give ;their instructions, 
and the Grammars; and Lexicons are now 
generally written ill the English Language. 
The difficulty arising from this source, and 
the difficulty which has obscured, per- 
haps more than any othei', the Greek lan- 
gitage, has been removed, and any one 
who chooses, may enter directly u-pon .its 
study without embarrassment. Any in-, 
dividual who chooses, if he' possesses a 
a tolerable knowledge of the English lan- 
guage, and an ordinary capacity for stvidy 
and the acquisition of knowledge, may, 
by devoting the two or iUree hoitr? ^\'laieh. 
he throws away every day, to the object, 
be able in twelve months to read with fa- 



cility the New Testament; and will have 
laid the foundation of proceeding at his 
leisureand with ease taany extent he 
pleases in the la:nguage. He thjit .tries it 
will b^e paid for his trouble. . H. 

aJ^ railroad. 

The railroad running from Nash^'ille -to 
ChattLiuooga is completed to this place.. — 
V/ehail the event as one highly auspicious 
to the commercial interest of our town ; 
and yet there is one deep shade 'upon the 
otherwise bright picture of prosperity 
which the achievement of this work pre- 
sents. We deeply and sjiicerely regret 
tliat the man;n;-ement of the aftairs of the 
company hasbee'n entrusted to the hands 
of those wh.0 fear not Godilor rcg~ard his 
holy'day.' The qtiiet of our' Sabbath ■ has 
.been invaded bj' the whistle of the loco- 
motive, and thus- a strong temptation has 
been placed before those whose- principles 
are not firmly fixed, -to violate those sa- 
cred hours by seeking their own amuse- 
ment. When we-"reiiect that millions of 
pecuniary profit cannot compensate for the 
smallest. ardount of moral injury, wc feel 
that this dei?e'eratiT)n of the Sabbath on 
the^ part of the Directors of the ilailfoad 
canipany, ought not to receive the slight- 
est encouragement frorp any well TOsher. 
to tltfe community. W6 feel confident; th^t 
in a pecuniary pointof view, Sabbath prof- 
its ■will prove to be far less than they are 
estima'ted, inasm^uch tis the value of proper- 
ty is in direct proportion to the moral-ele- 
vation of the community in which it is situ-' 
ated. Who ca-n doubt that a disregard 
of Sabbfith observance, tends directly 
to blunt the moral perceptions and to 
weaken the feelings of obligation in. regard 
to all moral restraints. A community of 
Sabbath breakers will soon become a com- 
munity disregarding the authority of God 
in all .thiiigs,' having ms respect for the 
rights of their fellow men, deterred from 
crime only through fear of legal punish- 
ment. What, we ask, would be the value 
of property in such a community? "Who 
would not flee from it even as Lot fled from 
Sodom"? Depend upon it, obedience to the 
laws of God is the true wisdom. in every 
point of view. AVc are not done with this 
subject We intend to lift up our voice 
•against this Sabbath disecration so long 
as it .continues, even though religious pa- 
pers. remain silent. Yi. 



• VoLuxTAET Self-coxiiemn.ition. — He who has 
genius and eloquence sufticient to cover or ex- 
cuse his errors, yet extenuates uot -but rather ac- 
cuses himself, auduHequivocally confesses guilt, 
ajiproache? the cir "'e of immortals. — Lavater. 



' THE BIBLE A MEAIfS OF INTELLEOTUAL 
CULTURE. 
The time was, when the idea of cultJ'vaH' 
J.ing the intellect through the medium of 
the Bible -n'ould have been thought an 
idle dream, for there was a. time when the 
Scriptureswere'read by few and known only 
in the learned languages. Nm is the truth. 
of the proposition that; the Soriptaies are 
pre-eminemly adapted to the cultivation of 
the mind, and the. expansion of the intel- 
lect, filly realized and appreciated even 
' by the friends of .the Bible at the present 
' day. It is thought that the Bible is adap- 
ted to moral culture, and not appropriate 
for that of the intellect. But aside from 
-the fact that moral culture greatly 
strengthens-the intellect and expands the 
mental powers, the sacred Scriptures poss- 
: essii; a superior degi'ee to all other writ- 
i'ngs. the elements, to .strengthen, the intel- 
lect. It is by contact with elevated truths 
l-and exquisite beauty that the taste is re- 
fined and the understanding strengthened. 
But there are no sublimer truths or more 
: exquisite beauty in any composition than 
are found in the word of God. And if 
i we would put the. powers of the soul to 
! its utmost stretch and thus expand them 
l"by the search after intricate truths, the 
! Bible surpasses all other fields of investi- 
i gation. If the philosophy, politics, histo- 
i ry, poetry and eloquence of Greece and ■ 
j Home are worthy of our study, are not 
I the, profounder philosophy and more 
! authentic history; the sublimer eloquence 
and more beautiful poetry of the Bible in- 
! comparably more worthy? We shall not, 
indeed, find in the Scriptures a Homer, 
with his Gods of heaven, hell, earth and 
ocean; vv-ith his nymphs of forest, moun- 
tain and vale; nor shall we find a Demos- 
thenes with his Greece and his Macedon , 
with the Ambition of a Philip and the Lib- 
erty of Athens — and here we shall look in 
vain for the fatalism of the Stoics, the 
metaphysics of Aristottle, and the imagi- 
natiou'of I'lato. Butin the Bible we look 
forgreatcr, puerer and more valuable works 
than Greece could ever boast. It is strange 
that inferior classics of a parallel character 
-should he thought adapted to the cultiva- 
tion of the intellect v.-hile those that£are su- 
perior are set aside as not adapted to the 
same end. But as tlie Scriptures are superi- 
or to all other writiugs,in the soundness of 
their philosophy and morals, the impartiali- 
ty and dignity of their history, the. sub" 
limityof their eloquence and loveliness of 
their jjoetr)', so are the}^ the best means 
of intellectual culture. H. 



Good fences make good neighbors. 



CLASSIC UNION, 



11 



-nffiTENKESSEE BAPTIST FEMALE IIT- 1 sue tlie paths of le.ivning-, enjoying the | now walMng? Assuredly— for the lips of 



STITUTE- 
The interest of education seems 



s.-inie Tv-atcheano o:' eucb o.her, an advan- j Eternal Truth have declared i 
ta'j-e" apprecia-fed by those who have sons road of, sin' leadeth to destruction. 



advancing with a new i^mpulse, and a com- j ^^^ (j^-^iyblers to bsv educated awiiy from i cans' 
mendable.zeal is manifest in- different por- 
tions of our beautiful State, in the estab- 
lishment of permanent institutions of lear- .^j^^ acknowledged ability of Mrs. J. H. 



not reach heaven. 



the broad 

Thou 

Tinless thou 



home. Another indispensable advantage walketh in the narrow way. If thou art 
connecied with this Female Institution is i in the way, persue it. Glorious will be 



ning. This spirit evidenlly indicates an 
increasing- appreciation ol the means adap'r 
ted to the promotion of intellectual and 
moral improvement, in some degree pro- 
portionate to the rapid p-ogress of the 
physical developments of our country. 

"Within a very brief .period we may 
hope to see the most flattering results fol- 
lowing these educational enterprises, giv- 
ing a higher tone to pubhe morals, and 
affording a more refined aiid elevated lit- 
erature. To such improvement, the cul- 
tivation of the female mind is in a' gr_eal 
degree conducive, and indeed, one of the 
foremost features of this age of progress, 
is the unparalleled zeal displayed in the 
cause of female education. 

We cannot, as yet, form an adequate 
conception of the changes which must be 
effected in many departments of society, 
where female education is regarded as 
worthy the highest efforts of the philan- 
ithropist and the christian. 

Every new enterprise for promoting this 
'great agency of reformation and improve- 
ment, is another step in "the march of 
mind," and should be cherished with an 
interest equal to the sphere in which it 
may exert an influence. The Institution 
above mentioned possesses rare facilities, 
for educating the daughters of our country. 
Murfreesborough as a location, is unsur- 
passed in most of the advantages desira- 
ble for such an Institution: occupying 
nearly the geographical centre of our 
State, in a region of extreme fertility an-d 
beaiity, with that degree of wealth and 
refinement which affords the first order of 
society, and ever favorable to literary pur- 
suits. As to health, it is universally ac- 
knowledged to be excee'ded by no country 
of the same population, and this young 
and flourishing city is especially free frum 
local disease. 

But aside from these' advantages of 
location and accessability; there are other 
great faciliues aflbrded to tliis Ins;;fution 
which belong to very few female semina- 
ries. Murfreesborough is. :the seat of 
Union University — a college of perma- 
nency and reputation — having already an 
endowment fund of $60,000, and an able 
Faculty of Professors, and 181 students, as 
is seen from the last catalogue of the lu- 



Eaton,'as an instructress of young h.dies, 
in all that is adapted to improve and adorn 
the minds and manners. Mrs. E. is to be 
aided by assistant Teachers of the first 
qualifications, and the College Faculty are 
to lecture upon the various branches of 
science and literature pursued in the In- 
stitution. ' ■ ■ / 

It cannot be reasonably doubted, that, 
surrounded by circumstances thus favora- 
ble, this enterprise bids fair to meet the 
most sanguine hopes of its liberal" foun- 
ders and fi-ien<Is. It is designed to be per- 
manent, and must add mucli to the pros- 
perity and reputation of Murfreeesboro', 
and increase the interest already excited 
in the cause of Education,, throughout 
the State. - ■ ****** 



the end.- If thou art not in the way, 
enter, eater now, in at the strait gate. Re- 
n9unce thy sins. Return to God, through 
Jesus Christ the Savior. E. 



stitution. 

Here the brother and sister 



THE TWO PAT|IS. 
There are two paths leading- through this 
world, in one or the other of which eve- 
ry traveler on the journey of life is found 
walking. The one is the path of duty, 
the other is the. way of the transgressor. — 
Every step in the former patji elevates 
the character and plants the moral foot- 
steps more firmly upon tlie immutable ba- 
sis of truth and rectitude. Every step in 
the latter is a fearful discen.t i'n the direc- 
tion of the-"great dismal swamp" of aban- 
doned guilt. At the outset, th«se two 
paths seem to our confused.p-erceptions, .to 
run so nearly parallel that we attempt- to 
step'from. one to- the other as best suits 
our inclinations. But this, is a fearful ex- 
pe'riment, for asone read is ascending and 
the other descending they very soon sepa- 
rate so widely that those in the downward 
course are utterly unable to climb again 
upon tlie high ro>id of; rectitude, aiVd 
unless, the arm of the son. of' "God-is 
reached dofrn for their rescue,-they must 
continue in the way of the transgressor, 
which vis hard in this life,- aad'leads to'en*- 
lejs' pej-ditioB. It becomes us •, tli'en: to 
look weir to our footsteps, and ascertain 
witii-out delay i-n which of these tw.o paths 
w.« are walking. Every act of our lives, eve- 
ry word of our mouthsj and every thought 
of our hearts, has a moral character, ik,is 
either in accordance with the will of God 
or in opposition to that will, and conse 
quently must affect oar destiny here and 
hereafter. 



"\OTICES OF PUBLIC LIBP.ARIES IN" 
THE U. S. OF AMERICA."— By CmiELES 
C. Jeweet, Librarian of the Smithsonian In- 
strtutiou. 

This work,- which has just come to 
hand, is a volume of over 200 pages, 
"printed by order of Congress, as an 
apendixto the fourth annual report of the 
regents of the Smithsoni-an Institution," 
and "prepared in accoi-dance with the 
plan of rendering the Smithsonian Institu- 
tionr a centre of Bibliographical Knowl- 
edge." It contains short notices of the 
foundation, progress, and present state of 
the libraries in the United States, which 
come under following classes: 1st, State 
Libraries, 2d,- Social Libraries; 3d, Col- 
lege Libraries; 4th, Students' Libraries; 
6th, Libraries of Professional Schools and 
incorporated Academies; 6th, Libraries of 
Learned Societies; 7th, Public School Li- 
braries. From the difficulty of getting 
the necessary information from all points, 
the reports are thought to be incomplete. 
The' aggregate number of volumes in all 
the libraries reported is 3,7.53,964. Upon 
the whole this is an interesting publication, 
and will do much to inspire institutions of 
learning to. increase and render more valu- 
able their libraries. H. 



THE NEXT NUMBER 
Of the Classic Union will be issued about 
the 15th September, when we shall com- 
mence our regular semi-monthly issues. — 
Subscribers are requested to send in their 
names- prior to that time. 



PoBLisiiEr.'s Notice. — A limited num- 
ber of advertisements will be inserted in 
the Classic Union, at the usual rates. 



-'Wejiurry in which the present num- 
Tsferhas been issued, has prevented the 
publisher from procuring the size and 
quality of'papcr upon which the Classic 
Union will be published. 



an per 



It will not do to hoe a great field for a 
little crop, or to mow twenty acres for five 
loads of hay. Enrich the land and it will 
pay you for it. Better farm thirty acres 
Reader, in which of those roads art thou I well than fifty acres by halves. 



12_ 

OOMMECNEMEWT OP COLUMBIAIf COL- 
LEGE, WASHINGTON', D. 0. 

This Institution, located at the sefit of 
our federal government, is one of our 
most prosperous Baptist Colleges. Of its 
recent Comraencment, the Baltimore True 
Union speaks in very flattering terms. — 
The following is a synopsis of Dr. Howeirs 
lecture before the "Society of the Alumni:'' 

"In the evening the Rev. Dr. Howell of 
Richmond, delivered a very able and truly 
■ eloquent address before the "Society of 
the Alumni." His subject was "The Re- 
sponsibility of Educated men." He com- 
menced by some happy and touching al- 
lusions to the scenes of his studentship, a 
quarter of a century ago, bringing before 
the minds of his hearers the names of as- 
sociates and instructors now departed. — 
Some, at least of those present, apprecia- 
ted these references as reviving in their 
minds many fond reminiscencies. He then 
defined what he meant by "educated men," 
not that they had passed through a pre- 
scribed course of study and obtained a 
degree, but that they had educated their 
minds, by diligent study and deep thought, 
liad matured and enlarged the sphere of 
"their knowledge by a constant acquisition 
of facts and ideas. Such men must have 
influence upon their respective professions, 
■upon the press and the literature of the 
age, u|>on the politics of the day, and, upon 
the morals of all within the .sphere of 
their actions and their thoughts. This in- 
fluence necessarily creates responsibility. 
Such men would make society, and for the 
character they impart to those around 
them, they arc responsible to the present 
:and future generations' and to-God. The" 
Doctor closed by warning his auditors 
against the too prevailing noticin that mere 
learning is a safe guide in the stormy 
ocean of life. Unstcadied by undemoral 
principle, unguidedby truth, both of which 
are to be found only in the religion of 
Jesus Christ, learning may and -will prove 
but a disastrousp'ower, destructive rather 
than beneficial, both to the man. himself 
and to those within his influence." 



CLASSIC UNION. 



VrRCxiNiA.-T-Mr. Thompson, editor of 
the Southern Literary Magazine, in an ad- 
dress before Washington College, A'a., 
described the state of education and lit- 
erature of Virginia. He says that in 107 
of the 128 counties, there are' 30,000 poor 
children over five years of age without 
any means of instruction, besides the mul- 
titudes -who might learn, but do not; that 
there are oTer 70,000 adult whites who 
cannot read and write; and that one-third 
of the voters of tlic Slate cannot read and 

"rrn f p i-^' 



[For tho Classic Union.] 
- Mr. Editor: A beloved brother was 
advi'sed, on account of failing , health, to 
spend a couple of years in foreign travel. 
During the second year of absence from a 
home endeared to him by the tenderest 
ties of affection, he died in Germany, 
among entire strangers, after having visi- 
ted every place of interest in Southern. 
Europe. 

^Vhile traveling, he was in the habit of 
gathering wild flowers from every place 
consecrated by historical associations , 
and from the tombs of the illustrious dead. 
These he pressed and placed in a blank 
book, v.'nting by the side of each,- the, 
date, and the name of the' place where it 
grew. The last flower in the book was 
a "Forget-me-not," and the date written 
in Ms own hand, showed that it was placed 
there only a day or two before the at- 
tack of paralysis., from which he .died, and 
that it was gathered £i-om the graveyard 
where his ^ body now rests. On the re- 
ception this book of flowers, a few months 
after his death, the following lines were 
written by an only sister. If you think 
them worthy of a place in the Classic 
Union, they are at your disposal,; -■,,.'■■ ; 

! yc are vocal to my lieait, ye pale and '■wilh- 

ered ftoweis. 
Ye -wliisper of the loved and lost, wlio in liis 

weary hours 
Wandering amid yoiu- native dells, -ffhere ye 

■ bloomed in beauty briety 
Seeliing in nature's solitude, a solace for his 

o'riet. 
Perchance ye mayliave heard the^iglis, of a heart 

.■jurciiarg-ed wilh woe, 
Oirhave secu his brightly beaming eye, with 

sorrow overflow, 
As he thouglit of those he left so dear in the 

'land of thesettiug sun, 
"Vfrhose tones :.uf love he could nothear, erelifo's 
■ weary ra£e was run. .. 

Full tender was the memories that heaved his 

manly breast,. 
As he n-atliered., ye, whlld blossoms, and with 

care, each floweret pressed; 
Touchin.g Mementoes are ye, of a love so strong 

and deep. 
That nothing could arrest it, but death s calm 

and pulseless sleep. ■ 
Methinks I see his jioble form, yielding to slow 

decay, 
ttiU hope'sbright star, tliat lured h 

shed its'lalest.ray; 
When failing strength and aclung head ail 

liuman skill dctied, , _ 

While througli tlie wirids more sluggislily 

flowed on tliepurpli tide. 

"And then .all pale and motionless^ upon Ids 

conch of pain, 
With palsied nmgue, but speaknig eye, tliough 

huiiKinaid is vain. 
No dear laniiMar face is seen, though rnany 

gather round, 
For kindly l;earts, and wdling liands, in foreign 

lands are found. , , ,, r ■ 

Tliere Balancing 'twixt life and death, a icw 

short weeks lie lay, - 
While all he held most dear on eai'th, were far 

from him away. . . , 

But viewless visitants, I trust, on wings Oi 

mercy came, . . 

Inspiring high and holy thoughts, his spirit to 

sustain, ' 



,had 



If "prayer's the breatliing of a slgll, tile failing' 

of a tear, 
Thenipward glancing of an eye, when none but 

God is near," 
Surely he prayed, in those sad hours, when over- 

wlielraed with grief. 
And He who hears the raven's cry, appeared 

for his relief. 
And tliongh upon his lonely bed of speechless 

agony. 
He heard no soothing voice of love or kindred 

sympathy. 
Were not tlie everlasting arms beneathhimgent- 

ly laid. 
And was not then his sinking soul ■upon his 

Savior stayed? 

And 01 if in that solemn hour, when death's 

dark vale he trod. 
His presence, the good Shepherd gave, with hia o'wn 

staft' androd:^ 
If glimpses of the bettter land, caught his 

enraptured gaze. 
And o'er cold -Jordan's swelling surge, he heard 

the angel lays. - 
T«)as?iaU5/i(tohim,that stranger hands, should 

close his dying eyes. 
Or that on strangers' ears should fall, his last, his 

dying sighs, — • 
That strangers should, his lifeless form, apparel 

for the tomb,. 
And bear him in a foreign land, to his last, nar- 
row^ home. 



V rpjjj; TENNESSEE BAPTIST. 

Fears have been expressed by some 
uninformed friends that the Classic Union 
would come in conflict with the interests 
of the Tennessee Baptist. Such fears are 
wholly unfounded, as the widely different 
character of the two papers precludes the 
possibility of such an occurrence. As a de- 
nominational paper the Tennessee Bap- 
tist has our warmest support and best 
wishes for its extensive usefulness and pop- 
ularity, and in this character its claims to 
the patronage of the Baptist denomination 
are paramount to our own. "We think 
however that when the Classic Union is 
known, brethren will find it desifable to 
have-both papers. H. 



Swimming. — The. following is given as 
the rationale of swimming: No branch 
of education has been so much neglected 
as this, Man is the only animal which 
does not swim naturally. He sinks in 
deep water from the size of his brain when 
not properly exercised. That is to say 
the weight of his brain above his nose, 
sinks tliat organ a little beneath the sur- 
face, when he is in an erect position, be- 
fore his body displays its weight in water, 
and thus finds an equilibrium. 'With the 
nose under, one must breathe water and 
drown. But when the brain becomes to 
bs cxoic'.sed enough to throw the head 
back and the nosj up, pointing to the veiy 
zenith, and keep the hands and feet care- 
fully under water, then by the eternal laws 
of hydrostatics, the nose will contiriue 
above water, and the person will float like 
an empty bottle which is so balanced as to 
keep its mouth upermost. No human be- 
in"- can sink in still water of any depth 
ly?ng on his back with hands and feet un- 
der water. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



13 



•THE lilPORTANCE OF OOIII'ETEST, IS"- 
STRUCTORS. 



BT CHA>3IG. 



One of the discouraafiun- views of soc-ie- 



IlfTELLIGENCE AND FREEDOM. 
Our country is the freest, happiest,'and 
most prosperous on earth. In "this re- 
spect there is no other that can compare 

■with it. Freedom is a natural impulse of j ty at the present nioment'^is, that, whilst 
the human soul, a principle enstamped up- j much is said of education, hardly any 
on its very nature, and a state, which, the ?eeni to feel the necessity securing to 
,, . „ , 1 J X ii • it the best mmds m the community, 

world m all ages, has struggled to attain. ^^^ ^^ securing them at any price- 
There is no natural love of slav'ery m the A juster estimate of this office begins to 
human heart, and men can only be kept I be made in our great cities; but, generally, 
in such a state by fear of physicar force, ! it seems to be thought that anybody may 
, . . , . 1 -ui 1 i ' become-.a teacher. The most moderate 

or by being trained from childhood to , ^.jj^^ .^ ^^^^^^^.j^^ ^^ ^^ ^^^^^^^^^^ ^^ ^i^^ 

submission, and held in ignorance of then- j ^Q^t important profession in society. — 

rights. I Strange, too, as it inay seem, on this point 

In accordance with these impulses of tiielPa'-ents incline to be economical.. They 



human soul, our country is free in the 



who squander thousands on dress, furni- 
, ture, amusements, think it hard to pay 
broadest sense of human freedom. '^ There comparati^-ely small sums to the in?triicter; 
are no eccleasiastical censors of the con- and throug-h this ruifioiu; economy, and 
science, dictating and proscribing- what } this ignorance of the dignity of a:teaeher's 

,1, , „ iu v r J J r„_ i vocation, they rob their children oi aid, 

shall or shall not be believed, and en(or-i, , ■ ,' v •' ^ r u ' / 

.- . ' I- ■ for which the ti-easiircs ox worlds can - at- 

cmg forms and ceremonies in rehgion.— ; f^j.^j ^^ compensation. -"- 

Our citizens are free to embrace whatever | There is no ofBCe higher than that of u 
forms of religion their consicnces or judg- 1 teacher of youths for there is nothing -on 
ments may dictate; and holding themselves <-'»'■* so precious as the mind, soul char- 
., , , ^ , ^ , . 1 , ' acter ot the child. JSo oince should be 

responsible alone to God foriheir conduct, ] ..^^^^g^ ^ijj, ^^^.^^ re^^p,,,^. ,The first 

spurns every effort to infringe their rights ! minds in the community should be encour- 

from whatever source it may eminate. | aged to assume it. Parents should do all 

It is also politically free. There are no ; but impoverish themselves, to induce such 

distinctions in society, save those created,.? . ^'^?'.'i'j ^m ,|- ' i '^ ir^i, • 

•' - . . . their children. To this good, all -their 

by personal merit, and this in a pohtical j sj^^^ and luxury should be sacrificed:— 
sense gives no additional power. The i Here they sho'uld be lavish, while tliey 
hunblest citizen has the same voice ' straiten themselves in every thing- else. — 
through the elective franchise as'-'the oc- Thcyshould wear the cheapest clothes, 

live on the plainest food; u they can in no 



cupantof the Presidential chair; and who 
ever chooses may aspire to whatever of- 
fice his qualifications may fit him to oc- 
cupy. In these and many other respects 
our country claims the preminence over 
every other nation and people. 

This superiority is doubtless the result 
of the superiority of the ' institutions of 
our country over all others. But this 
advantage in the character and benign in- 
fluences of our form of Government, and 
its institutions must be attributed to the 



other way secure to their famihcs the best 
instruction.- They should have- ho anxie- 
ty to accumulate property for their chil- 
dren, pro\idcd they can place them under 
influences, which will awaken their facul- 
ties, inspire fueiu with puve and high prin- 
ciples, and tit them to bearamanl}', useful, 
and honorable part in the world, l^o 
languagecan express the cruelty or folly 
of tliat economy, which, to leave a fortune 
to a child, starves his intellect, impover- 
ishes his heart. There should" he no econ- 
omy in education. Money should never 
be weiffhed asjainst the soul of a child.- 



and to the most effectual training of the 
young, would Vi-ork a fundamental revolu- 
lion in society. They would leaven thg 
community wi_th just principles. ^ Their in- 
fluence would penetrate our families-., Our 
domestic discipline would no Jonger be 
left to accident and impulse. What par- 
ent has not felt the need of this aid, has 
not often been depressed heart-sick, un- 
der the consciousness of ignorance in the 
great work of swaying the youthful mind ! 
We have spoken of the office of the ed- 
ucation of human beings, as the noblest 
on earth, and have spoken deliberatel)'. — - 
It is more important than that of the, states- 
man. The statesman maj' set fences around 
our property and dwellings ; but how 
much more ar£ we indebted to him, who 
calls forth the powers and affections of 
those fur whom our property is earned; 
and our dwellings are reared, and who 
renders -our children objects of increasing- 
love and respect. . We go further. _ We 
maintain, that higher ability is required 
for the , office of" an educator of ■ the 
young, than, for that of a statesman. — 
The highest ability is that, which pen- 
etrjites "farthest into human nature, com- 
prehends the mind in all its capacities 
traces out the laws of thought and 
moral action, understands the perfec- 
tion of human nature and how it may be 
approached, understand the springs, raa- 
tives applications, by which the chili is. to. 
be roused to the most vigorous and har- 
monious action of all its faculties, under^ 
stands its perils, and knows how to blend, 
and modify the influences which outward 
circumstances exert on the youthful, mind. 
The speculations of statesmen are shallow, 
compared with, these. It is the chief func- 
tion of the statesman to watch over the 
outward interests .of a people; that of the 
educator to quicken its soul. The ."States- 
man nnist study and manage the passtons 
and prejudices of the community; the ed- 
ucator must study the essential, the deep- 
est, the loftiest principle of human nature. 
The statesrhan works with coarse instru- 
ments for coarse ends; the educator is to 
work by the . most refined influences on 
that delicate, . ethereal essence, the im.- 
iuortal soul. 



superior intelligence of the people over ^^ sli.ould be poured out like water, for the 
^, J. ^, °. -r„. , ,,. ,! child's intellectual and moral life, 

those ot other nations. It intelliMnce.and i -nr i i. i • * -u -j "j 

^ We know nat how society can be aided 

freedom progress together, and the one be more than on the formation" of a bodyof 
the eflect of the other; thenin firoportion I wise and eftlcient educators. We know 
as this nation is in advance of all others in 1 "o' ^ny clas.? whicli would contri'bute sD 

*i „«•„ (■ „ •* „ ti, ■ ii ^nr 1 much tj tlw stability of the state, and to 

the enect, so it must be in the cause. We' , ,- , • ■ i\,r i . 

- - • I domestic happiness. - Much as we respect 

have been led to these reflections by the j tij-e ministrv of the Gospel, we believe that 
following paragraph, showing the relative it must yield in importance to the-office of 
proportion of readers m our ownand otli- 1 traming the young. In truth, the ministry 
er countries: ■. { now accorap'li'shes little for wane of that 

"The number of newspapers taken hy , early intellectual and moral discipline, by 
the people of the United States annually,-i which alone a community can be prepa;;cd 
averages one to every sixteen inhabitants, rto-. distinguish truSh from falsehood-, to. 
men, women and children. In the- Brit: {comprehend the instructions of the ptil- 
ish Empire, only one person in twelve 'pit, to receive higher and broader views of 
thousand takes a newspaper, in Belgium, [ duty, and to apply general principles to 
one in twenty-five thousand, in Russia, 1 the diver-sified details of life. A body of 
one in thirty- three thousand, in Prussia, cultivated men, de'voied, with their whole 
one in every twenty thousand." ,11. i heai'ts, to the iinprovemtut of education', 



!v ■ , -A PEX OP SOLID FIRE. 
! AVe know-but little of the mysturioiis counec- 
i lion between soul and body-. But one thing w* 
know, th.it the habits of the soul act upon the 
body, and the habits of- the bodv act upon soul. 
A liforldly man thinks very little of this; a man 
of sin and pleasure thinks of it vciylitde; yetit 
may he in this very way that he is engraving the 
'letters of hisown future judgjueut on Iris o-svn 
; being. iS^o nran knows, when- in a course of 
sinful indulgence, no young man in a career of 
, sensual passion, no middle aged nurn in tlie pur- 
' suits of ambition, or the.greedy grasp of gain, 
: what lines he is teaching, as with the pen of a 
diamond, or burnihg-in as witli a pen of solid 
liie, upon his spirtual being, hidden perhaps 
iiu'.v, botby and by to comeout, andto be read 
tlnough i-teruity. It is- said tliat the wicked 
j shall be driven away in 3us, wickedness; and so 
' the wicked soul may be launcheil into eternity, 
t'seared audscbixhed intheiightof all the.uui- 
' verse, with the (Jeep tiurnteijgiaviug of his own 
j sins, so_fhat uo^book of jxidgmentwould beneed- 
I ed toTcad.lhem out of eithepto himself or to 
j ajigels. ■ "■".'■- 

•, Mirth should betjie ciubroidery of couversa- 
I tidn — .-not the wob. 



14 



CLASSIC UNI-OI^. 



A SIMPLE STYLE. 
A simple style of speaking- or writing- 
contains clearly and palpably -a meaning 
• — the meaning which is at once assigned 
by the great mass of people. Simple 
^vords rnaiie simple sentehceSj readily in- 
telligible to all persons of comrnon infor- 
mation. Of course tliey are the ^^-urds of 
popular instruction, tlie words' of the fami- 
ly, the medium of lifeis common a-ndinost 
important intercourse. It is an inslilt to 
be incessantly spouling Latin to an En- 
glish audience; or to load one's discoiirse- 
with classic allusions, of -which not one 
person in a hundredhas the remotest idea;- 
or to be forever coining new words, the 
reason of which none but a scholar 
can appreciate; or to lug.in at every cor- 
ner the high-sounding phrase of science. 
This may show a man's learning; but it is 
a little too much learning- for common lifC; 
When one gets above talking to the peo- 
ple in language intelligable to them, it is 
■«[uite time fo) hira to stop talking. 

Physicians sometimes speak to their 
■patients in language thcy^ might as well 
address to the moon, forgetting tliat the 
dialect of doctors' is one thing, and that of 
common - sense another. They are -too 
awfully learned to be understood. 

, Not unfrecquently those who write and 
speak to the public ear, even ministers of 
the gospel, wonderfully overshoot the mark 
-—aiming at a fine style, though at the ex- 
pense of simplicity and intelligibleness. — 
It -is manifestly the effort of -sor,ie to write 
and talk as nobody else does, to be per- 
fectly original in the use of words. In 
■certain circles we hear in these last days, 
of the "new style." iSuch a preacher or 
writer has really caught the iiev/ style. — 
What is this new stylo? Ir is the latest 
fashion of the English languagCj worked 
>ip in imitation to some author who vio- 
lates the rules of simple speech — ^putting 
"three -(vo-i-ds together to make one, anJ 
then fixing them in a sentence ss bo fore 
they never were fixed. This is one kiii:!. 
It is very facinating, since nobody ever 
saw it befoie; and if wislring wjDuld; do 
any good, all sensible people wp-^ild -hope 
that the like might never be again. 

There is another kind of this stjdb; -be- 
coming somevrhat current in our country, 
working its wav in(o theologioal leaching," 
and pi'omising but iitllc good for the fu- 
"ture. It is the style of transcendental 
theologizing, claiming to be much vviser 
and gieater than tlie time-honored and 
Bible-honored foinis of reeeivin:;' and sta- 
ting- Christian truths — carrying \"\ ith it an 
air of bi-illiancy and profoundness in its 
mysterio-asness. It is difficult to describe 
it; yet we thiak we can give the reader a 
hint bj- which he may know it, if he ever 
happens to meet it. If he reads a book 
that appears verj' great, and j^et cannot 
tell what makes it so — preciselj- in what its 
greatness consists, though it professes to ' 
deal with a common subjects— one in re- j 
speet to which he feels that- ho ^ ought to-\ 
understand the writer, and would if he 
had a fair chance; if at the conclusion he 
feels confused as to the airtlior's'nieaning, ; 
yet having a general .impression o/ bis 1 
greatness, thounh ho himself is. half-in'[ 



the fog-arid half out of it, yet not enough 
of either to be stone-blind or to see well; 
if this be his experience in respect to" a 
book, chapter, a sonience, then the rea- 
derhas prob.ibly mot trie (ranscendental 
style. This is the \"s:ry thing. He may 
know "it by his own confusion. , He will 
find himself on a sea of such strange 
words, so strangely put togethei-, and of 
such doubtful import, that no land dis- 
tinctly meets the eye on either side. — 
Whether the auther means this, or means 
this, -oi- means that, or means something- 
else, or means nothing, or even knows 
himself what he means, it will not be.pos- 
sible to tell. AH the reader will be able 
positively to affirm is, that probabl}"" there 
is a remarkable genius somewhere in 
that neighborhood — throwing- off striking- 
thoughts that would strike yd\\\ g-oeat ef- 
fect, if one had iho good fortune lo know 
enough to bo eh'vatod iu thoir range. This 
is the transocnilou.al stylo of plain ideas 
made nnint-olligiblc, or no iiieas in the 
pomp of greatncs.s. 

- In contrast with this, how furcible is 
simplslanguage bo:h for the pulpit and the 
press, as well as ordinai-y ccnivt-rsation. — 
The entire system of revealed theology, 
its doctrines, fae'is, precepts andpromises, 
is given in simple words. God could 
spe;ik simpl}'. - Why cannot men, who 
know so much less? "The v/hole body of 
common sense lives and walks in a plain 
and intelligible dress. Put it in velvet or 
satin, or set it on stilts, and it is no longer 
common sense. There is no communica- 
ting power in words or sentences. men do 
not understand. . There are no words 
more elotjuent than thoseof common life. 
The very best prose is. always sin"iple. — 
The same is true of poetry. In this re- 
spect there is no finer specimen than-Bun- 
yan iu liis Pilgrim's Pj-o)gress. He.makes 
lingua!_;o do if> work; it speaks; it says 
something. Thorois, we think, rno-i'e im- 
porlanco attaolied io this SHlijeiJt than that 
of mere criticism upon style. The sta- 
bility and soundness of Cliristian faith are 
involved in the use or _ disuse of simple 
words. There i"j no Wi-iv raoi'e artful and 
more likely to be successful, of assailing-a 
Clirisdan doctrine, than to beginby giving 
it a 7;c-(« dress. The truth is all there, but 
a little bettor beca-ase more mysteriously 
expressed. The great and blessed doc- 
trine of the atonement bj'the-Son of God," 
on which the Clirisaan sj'stem hangs, and 
b_y which it is distinguished from every 
other, has often boon assailed in tl"iis way. 
Human ]"jliilosophy steps in, and says: — 
Let me express this doctilne as it ought to 
be; and as the apostles v.-ould have done. 
had they been b-etter philosophers. Let 
me give it a dress better suited to learned 
times, and though retaining- the substance, 
beautify the form, by adding- the artistic i 
grace of a better style. We confess we : 
have no relish for this preten.sion. We 1 
thirik there a.ve some; tendencies in our' 
ovrn country, the sight of which o-ught to 
make every man say _ with pJl liis heart. 
Clear away the verbal mist. Let iis have j 
your ideas in plain, simple, Saxon' English; ■ 
and we gan then- tell what you mciih. — I 
This is thd-]'anguageia \vhich we are ac- ' 



customed to think, an-d can therefore best 

ju Ige of an idea when in this form. We 
roooramonditto the preacher, if he would 
bo useiul. It is the language of power. 
It performs the fij-st great' duty- of \a,Ti- 
itivr\ge;^it cGihieysidcai. It is the style of 
the best speakers, and writers. Wo other 
is fit for the pulpit. — yew York Evangelist. 

FACTS FOR FARMERS. 

Never keep yo-ar cattle short; few far- 
mers can ailord it. If you starve them 
they will starve yo_n. 

In dry pastures dig for water on the 
brow of a hill — springs are more frequent- 
ly near the surface on height than in a. 
vale. 

Cut bushes that yon wish to destro}", in 
the summer, and with a sharp instrument 
— they will breed freely and die. 

Account should be kept, detailing the 
expenses and product of each .field. 

When an. implement is no longer wan- 
ted for the season, lay it aside carefully, 
but fii-st let it be well cleaned. 

Obtain good seed, prepare your ground 
well, sow earl)', and pay but little atten- 
tion to the moon. 

Cultivate your own heart aright; re- 
member that '-whatsoever a man soweth, 
that shall he also reap."- 

Do not begin farming by building an 
extensive house, nor spacious barn, till 
you have something to store in it. 

Keep notes of remarkable events on 
your farm. 

Recording even your errors will be of 
benefit. 



Ourn-.vr.D BE--iuTr. — I can Dot understand, says 
Fiedciika Breniei-, the importance which certain 
people set upon oiitwavd beauty or plainness. — 
X am of opinion that all true education, such at 
least as has a reli.i^lous foundation, must infuse 
a noble claim, a "wholesome coldness, an indiffer- 
ence-, or "whatever people may call it suchlike 
outward gifts, or tlie want of. them. And who 
!;as not experienced of liow little consequence 
they are, in f;ict for the weal or woe of life* 'Who 
has not cxjDcrienceJ uow, on nearer acquain- 
tance, plainness becomes beautified, and loses 
its charm, e^iactly to the qualiity of the heart 
and miiKl? And from this cause I am also of 
opinion that the want of outward beauty never 
disquiets a noble i"iature, or will be regarded as 
misfortune. Itnevea- can prevent people from 
being amiable and beloved in the highestdegree 
and we have daily proof of this. 



Life. — The true scholar — andmay we not add, 
Chi-istaiu?— will feci that the richest romance, 
the noblest fiction, that ever was woven, the 
heart, Eoul of beantv; lies enclosed in liuma.n 
life, itself of rurprisiiig v.alne. It is also the rich- 
est niate]"ial for liis eri.'ation. 

He must K-ar his share of the common load. — 
lie must T.-ork. lie must work with men in 
hiiu.ses. and not wi'th iheiv names in books. — 
His needs appeliles, talents, aPAefion.s, accom- 
plishments, arekrys that open to him the beau- 
tiful museum of human life. 'Why should he 
read it as an Arabian tale, and not known in his 
own beating bosom its sweet and smart? Out of 
love and hiitred, ont of earnings and borrowings 
and lendings and losses, out of sickness and 
pain, out. of wooing and -,vor,shipi)ing, out of 
travelling and voting and walchingand caring, 
out of disgrace and contempt, co:nes out tuition 
in the .?eroi"ie and l")ea">itii'ul laws. Let him not 
shun liisles.on; let liim learn it by heart. Let 
liini pn(lea\"i-i" exacilv, bravely, and cheerfully, 
to solve the proI)lcn'i of Itiat life whiell is set 
before him;, and this by ;>!^Jic(M«J ffcd'on, and not 
by promises and cVrcainf. 



cla:.s-sjg UNia.N. 



15 



THE GOVEEN'OR AKD TSE -PHJITTER. 

i. WtS OF TRUTH. 'J • 

rranlclin -hadjnst retuvnefl from assistin 



uey from the ra?t of the cliildrcn-to keep rafi] . • HOME.. " 

tbore, I staid' in the shop, I assUreJ hiih -bv i As we opened onr'^iTmloTP.?- last evening to let 
twisting the cacdle-wictsiiud. filling-, the monia-s [in the vcfVoshing-jitglit-bieeze whi?!h came whis- 
all day, and'atni^ht I read rayeelf. At twi.;.,- ];i.-r.' i ;:. va, we/heard a ciipriis of seve- 



jiiy fatlierbonnd-nic to my "Uothet, a priiitti 



poor Collins to bed,, when the Gaj^ain of -the" E'j-ton, and then I worlved there alt d-iy 



a* r„llr 



'wliocan that be?", 
replied the Caplai 



vessel which ".had brough' him to "New Torlc, 
stepped up and in a very i,:.-pectfid manner pnt 
a note into his iiand. iini r.jjened it, not ,wiLh- 
. out some agitation, n nil rr.i 

" G. Burnett'.^ CMinj-liin./ 
Franklin, and ,hni;ld \<f u: 
chat with him over a ula.^r 

'■G. Bnrnett,"' said iieu, 

"Why tis the Governor, 
■with a smile; "I have just been to seehinr with 
some letters I brought for hiai from Boston; and 
when I told him what a world of books you 
hare, he expressed curiosity to 6eByou,.and bcg» 
ged I would return with you to his palace." 

Ben instantly set off with the Captain, but 
notwithout a sigha.she easta^lookSt -the door 
of poor Collin's bed-room, to think ■«chata^ hon- 
or that wretched man had lost for the -salje of 
two or three gulphs of liltIiy-gTo<f. . " •'» 

The Goveriiuv's look at. the approach .of -Ben, 
showed soraewliat disappointmirot. He had, it 
seems expected considerable entertainment from ■ 
Ben's conversation. But his frcsii and^raddv 
countenance showed him so mneh yo.inger tiiau 
he had counted on, that he gave up allihispi'umi- 
sed entertainment as a lost hope; Se r'jc,ei.\'e<I 
Ben, however, with great 'politeness, ajid afier 
pressing on him aglass of wine, took him into 
an adjoining room, wliicli. was. his libraiy^ con- 
sisting of a large and well cliosen .selection. 

Seeing the pleasure sparkle in Bqn's eyes, as 
he surveyed so manj' elegant authors, and 
thought of the rich stores tllcy contained, the 
Governor with a smile of complacency, as on a 
young pupil of science, said to him — 

"Well, JMr. Franklin, I am told by the Captain, 
hear, that you ha,ve_a line collection too.",. 

"Only a trunk full, sir," replied, Ben. 

"A trunk full, sir?" replied the Governor "why 
what use can you have- for so many books? — 
Young people at your age, have seldom read be- 
yond the tenth chapteV of Nehemiah." 

"I can boast," replied Ben, '- of having read 
a great deal beyond that myself;- but 
should b* sorry if I could not get a trUuk fall to 
read every si.x months." 
At this the Governor, regarding lilm witli a look 
of surprrse, said: ' ' 

"You must then though so yqung,_be asclipl- 
ar; perhaps a teacher of the languages?" ~. " - 

"H"o, sir," replied Ben, "Iknowuo Ringuage 
but my own." 

"What, not Latin or Grooic?" "' -. '^ .■_" ■ 

"Why, slon't you tliiuk tlie;ii ncces.s'avi^-''' '.. 

I don't set niy.-eitnp as ajudge— rbul'l should 
not suppose tlu-in necessai-y." 

[In giving his viev>-s on this subject, which are 
not generally considered soiiud or tenable, he 
remarked tlurt.] ' , i 



. pr'~- -. and a^aih rea 
: .cranr :*]3ai)kod i 

, ^'::d -whisile, wl. 
J \M,]i;:,.i,ri.e, rolled about ;.. ,;.,,.. .., 
if in a rui^dity mind.to'hop out. 
■linpossible, young mafli'Miec-xcleinied, 
possible, j-ou are only somiding my credulity 



I.; i - - ' : .-. :^. dv.-elliug- -opposite, .sinu-ing that 

!l: ..■..■ :.alla.;l, -Home, sweet home."— 

I,,.' .Ve \,-.ae a-aiu «'atid- at.thu desk,, but the odd 
ih- thoughts wejiad p\u-posed"to puf.ou paper had 
ds, lled^iid in their place-was echoing the refrain, 
;cis''.Hvme, .sweet homo." Who^of is not carried 
.back with jthe words to the days of our child- 
im- , hoyd ; ,to the' little cti-cle whom we loved and 
conlided in before collision with tlie coarse world 



1 can- iiever believe th^'half of "this." T"hen-[had taught us th? lesson of distrust : to' a gentle 
Jurnijig to the Captain, he .s.aid — "Gapfain, you f mother,' whose love-,' like -an . ever-fresheninf- 
are an intelligent man from Boston :p;-aj tell me, 'Stream, expanded with all.oui' wants,' and bore 



can this young man here be aiming at aiiythii'ig 
but to quiz mc?".- - . ■. . - 

'' -"So, iudeed,.plea-Ve your excellency," replied 
the Captain, -'iii: Franklin is not quizzing yofi;. 
he is saying what Ts really true, for I =am -Sc^ 
quainted with his father and family.!*' '. -;-" 
"Well, ilr. Franklin, tltere's an anther -I . am 



US' unharmed through all t"he peiiils- of infancy 
to the k'.ud father, whose pare'iitahcouncilg first, 
awakened us to thougiit and rcHecti<)U ; to the 
brothers .aad sisti , '., 1 — :■ ;.',-i--ant 
%hipftgladdeueti t!i 'i-.;wht 

■the first-bound of :■ ■■ 
his early'honTe'/ 'i h- 



?ompanion- 

'i-.; who does not, at 
.. . ail iiislirictively to 
most <)f us have als 



sure you will not quarrel with — an author thaVl j present, newer icune; tUE'liome -n'here our heart 
thuiJc you will pronoujic^i f.aullless. "It would uo'w iS; t^ie pi-i-nt of. our afi:ections,- thelittle nest 
puzzle you, I think, keen cmicas you ar'c,' to I where those .wJimB;w-6- lo-i-e -mid are toiling for 
point out oue." " . ^I are" sheltered fioih want,' and, as far- as our 

. "Weri, 3ir,"'.-said Ben, li-i>f ily tiiniiig to the I thoughtlessi'icSs can ^o4t,-frinM 'cai^^'and soitow. 
place, "what do vau think of tljis f^imoixicoupletj'lt is good to carry aboutj-with us Iteina ii'ijluenccs; 
of Pope'i— " - . • ,.; . 'W.to let tlie koIj:_"li5jht'.fro'm .our'dome.stie hearth- 

Immndost w:.;d^ admr. of no defen§e„ ' * f "'^'^^ shine- out- up,^n ;our daily walks." Our 
"'" hejiBt^groxs-calious.By.iTequentcontact .with the 

■rade ; woild; thJmghfcs of;home soften «s again 
to_ aur-^pjjpper-huuianity.- We are tempted to 
"T-A'fLlstray from the strict ."principles of rectitude, 
f 5--'°^ I and, in'our thu-st for g-afu, to turn sopliists with 
mirselve,-., arguing for-iiii' present evil, that fu- 
oud niay ctmic; the i)ure atmosphere of 
wn!;";:-| I :'; ;,,,^;i, aiul sti'engtlien US 111 
thij.honr u, .;,: : 1, We are moved against 

jin inhi^ ' :. 1 on"i- first impulse is to 

show no uien -, ; liuu.-uals in the thoughtof our 
hoijie.aiidsoiueiliing.wliispers that ho may be. 



For -ivaiit'of doc_-ii07 is war.t'of s.« 
-Isee'no fank tTi?j.-e.' 
■>,"— indeed !.'.' replied Ben"_ ".Why no-sv ^o- 



my mind a man can a^lc no better excu: 

anything.-h"e doe? v,i\/.ig taua his want of senjis, 
"How so?^ ^^ - ^ 

"Well, sir, if I might presume to altei-"- ^^Iins^ home 

in this poet, I would do.it in this -way: -,. ,-'-,"' 
•'Immodest words admit of thii defense; -.' " 
For want of decency i.'j.want of se;jsc!" . . . 
Hcrethe Gc^vxirnbr cautrlit Ben- in his aiy^isf-its 

a delighted father-woiTl'd-his son,'GaHitig -Jifc the 

same time taihe Ganta " 



dea 



1 

,,__ ^ _ ding-'fa 

How greatly i .am obliged 'to ymi; sir,';for''.'<=''''<l'":='? "''^'^" ''"^. *•' 
bringing' mo.to^acqnaintaiK'o Avifh this' charrajng |,g''"^^' f amt and weary 



like ourselv 
nil the pi 



yguth ! 0]>..-svbat a deliglil fal 
"for us to coiivci-pe wiihsuch a- 
tiu"! ^'^' 'i'"' tli<??'qe--t of it is, liio i 
as bats to tlig. true-gior'v and h: 
children. ' Most jarents never 



I of such a circle, 

:if unknown wife and 

from our anger. We 

jur vound.of toil, and 

'I'dbe •i=''^'-'='"Pteato piay llie e..-,. aid and withdraw 

has;''"-' S'=illo<l-''I)"ulde:s fi-ii::i li - i\-v burden; 

i'lifu:l!-'''"^"*'-"'''-''^oUeetion of ii ■ ■.. • . .! "ut oir our 

their i-laboraorviis us again to []:.■ ,Mi;,;i ■,, a;^d we fnr- 

ji 'tor'^'^", ?'■"''- '^*''^'"''''*^;''^- "■■' S-'id anticipations of the 

their .sons, than to. see them delving like ,nu^x,'|"^".*-'='""':fl=''JeL-e£s. Two men in. rho prime of 

worms, -for money, or hopping ab,ouf like ffi^-'P''^'^' under the eYciremont. of- strong pajsion, 

birds, in gavfcrtlier.s." Henc'e their convereatidn f 8°.'''^"^ °"'';y '",i'^"''^'w'o''s advisers, and acting 

is.no betlsi-tlfen fiv.h orjioiificiiee.-';"" -' -.,'•' [under aflcticjouB sense of honor, becamesoan- 

'.- .- ■ - '■ . . "",^.' ■/- ■'■■^ . ' '■■ I g""* a^tto,. thirst for each other's blood. One of 

", „■ £,- ■ >\,, - ,," .. '" - __ ^.„ ':^!ft-in"atlastpi-cf)oscd tothe othqr adUcl. With 

AF.AitiLY&CE-N-E.— The folfowm.g sceiTf.js_h)--^i;.i,e thought of death, came to the challenged 

tlic rcmeiubrauce of home, and the mourning 

cirri.' t:i.'--e,ai^! }:•■ f.i'rered out, . "Twill ask my 

■^^'" '. ' - .'' the lionie scene ^vas re- 

■le otlicr, forhetflo had a 

f" '",' '^^ -" " "=^ '-~'Jt r' f " 11 -e'. ■::;!,; ', 1 iHild stich ijleasont faces 

can-no f<'u.?!«- kcrp^ out carwa-o; ■■!<>!; iBn.stj dwell w.ith.angev in the l.Osoin of amurderer?- 



JlrsT^'Sigouruey. .It should teach our ygmag 
readers the impoitance of being able to r^icfe: 
themselves useiid in (i'ipes o^.misfortime: — - Uy 
• "rii'nve lost my -whole fortune." f'aiii a ffief- 1 p, 
chan.!; as he- refiirued one evening to.his. home; i ^^ 



leave this-larso houise. The 



When dpin ions of the Joarned did."not sceni to 1 l^oivgorcd to oJi^eusivc-^cJinols. "i'eiforday.I- -sras 
him to be founded on truth, to differ £i:om"them, a rich man, to-day tliere iinorhing-I cfifcall my 
he ever thought it his duty; aiid especially since I own " '" "' ' 



hUdi-en can' na ^I^o;au<;Uheta"oene3liesfe.ll on each other's neck 
savi^dby the 'sweet-, memories of home. In 



I studied Locke. 



Dear husband-," said the -wife, "we Urs stilL 



•'Locke!" cried the Governor . with 'surprioe, | rich ih'each other .ind iii.bur chilchen. Money 



"you Studied Locke 

"Yes, sir, I studied Lookeon the.,'pudersta"'n- 
ding three years ago, when -I was tJiii-feen?" ' 

''You amaze me, sir. Yoii study Lnckt'oJi tiio 
understanding at til irteeu?" " -. 

"Yes sir, I did." 

"Well, and pray wliat college did vou siudv 
Locke at thirteenV for at Cambrid' -eer.'iiege in old 
England, where I got my odiicitniu. they never 
allowed the senior class to look at Loclie uiit'.l 
eighteen." - • 

"Why, sir, it was my -misfortune never to be 
at college or even at a gi-amraar school, except 
nine mouths when I was a child."' 

Here the Governor sp 
starting at Ben, cried out; 

"Never at CoUegel well, and v,'here- did yo'n 
get your education pray?" 

" At home, sir, in a tailow c'laadler's shop.'' 

"In a tallow chandler's sliop):"' screamed the 
Governor. . . 

"Yes, sir,-,ray fatlior t\- 



pass awa}-, but God has given us ft better 
ti-easiuc in these active hands aird loving heai'ts." 

"Dear fathei-,': said tlio clnldien. "do'not look 
so sober. Wu will helj.i -en . : e.-ing,'' - , 

""Vv^at can you do..]!- i i le .' sciiiis. 

'-Yo'j sliall-se-j— vu-i .-!e-i! - -- :' -aid several 



short,- g,6_ -« Vei-e . we wiilhon-ie' iitSueucos are a 
shield ■again-t'.t'tsmpatioji: a restraint from un- 
Towfal jiursults; n goad fo honoi-abls ambition; 
Mke^ie genial suniioan-fs, a universal fructifier 
oh the fertile soilLof |h<iof~the heart. The young 
man who hjis not yet kindled the. fire upon a 
hearthstone of. his o-wir,' often retains the blessed 
memories of his.ciirly honie-, and has felt their 
itjflueuce in the houi;-of -his sorest trial. 
,,-r. . ..- -i- 1 1 ^ - < -, , We do well to encourage these home feelings, 

voices- ,'Tt IS a pity It we ha™ been to sahool.| to hallow our steps into tlie great tlioroughfa^es 
for nothing. How can the father of eight chil-j „f i;;-,,,,^ ,„,^j^ attendant miiiTstrics, and to throw 
Irenbepoor; \Ve ahail wor,c ami make .you : ,,,„-„j,d iufcluldren and our household friends 

such plea-ant safeguards. We cannot do too 

much'to niak? our- hoiue the happiest .sjjot on 

'earth to all who dwell with us under the same 

•roof. ~ 



rich ai' 



cii a wife and audi children are true riches ; 



CO any 



SeoTCn S.j,BBAins. — The following auccd.ote is 
n his seat aiid ; told In illustration of the'Scoth veueratiun for 

the Si.hbnil.i 



'-> in the country, and- h'av- 
-- with him, tookif out and 
■'-."by thewayside for e-x,"Hn- 
'.diiigs did not escape. \l\i; 
..^ toiiaue of an old ScQfcji 
poor oh.t tallow j v.'OTuan. 'Whaf arc- you iloing there, marr;'^-^- 
.. . 1, and I was-the I 'Dont^yousee'f-l'm; iiieaking ii.-srtoiie.' 'Y'iire.^^t-ate!;i>o/vTlfeJlrL■Tik'e11^oic of the Bethesdapool 

youngest of all ; at eight yea-rs tif -age ho pnt fae" doing raair than' th^^yiiia ■ bi'eti'^fng • the" ^ab - I -^It ft -^il^'Svhen i^QV ai-'e 'agitated that Ihov are 
to school, hut finding ho could not spa" "'= -^-'"- ' '^"^'^ " .-' . ' . : ; ■ ' - \r.-fjiV.f..i -.*• « - " . * 



? the ; 



Hi:; pr 
(jnicfc Q'/h and read'/ 



I hath." 



Parent-s -n-ho never have a .smile upon 
LJieir lips, who tiini all the sweet charities of the 
household into silence or gloom bj' their forbid- 
iag-preseuce, are oitt of place iu their sphere, 
and n,-e layiiig^up foi:.t]ieui-selves a bitter rotribu- 
tiiin ia the •.v*gvgrdness-of their children, who 
have u-eierlj^|^P"Eome', sweet home.-' — Jour- 

'-fi " ' 



' pi-.dpt'r eicnnent.of man is activity. Tlie 



' hc.aTiJ-.fiii.- 



16 



CLASSIC UNION. 



[Fmn Arthur's Home Gazette.] 
THE MOTHER'S SONG. 

BY D. ELLEN GOODMAN. 

Hush, baby biisli — 
Ans;el's eyes are softly peeping 

1* hough the heaven's blue: ■ 
To the flower's heart ire creeping 

Drops of silver db-w. 
NoTT a golden beam is lying 
• On tbme infant TjroTV, . . 

And the sumifier winds are;sigljiBg_ 
Mournfully low. ' *_..-. 

Sleep, baby sleep — 
Though the open window stealing. 

Like a breath from heaven, 
Tremblingly and softly pealing. . ■ ■_^' 

Come the tones of even. f * 

They come in sweetest melody ^ , 

With the breath of flowers, . 
Like angel spirits unto thee 

From fair Eden's bowers. 

Hark, baby hark! 
.'Saw the silver moon is sailing 

Up the azure slsy. 
And the starry gems are paling 

'Neath her gleaming eye. 
Like a stately queen she goeth 

Through the blue expanse: — 
Like a spirit juoekly tliroweth, ^- - 

On the earth her glance; , . - \ ■ 

Hush, baby hush! , ,. 
For my heart would fondlj' listen 

His dear tread to hear,. 
And my eager eyes will glisten 

As it draweth near, 
Baby darling! thou al-t smilling — 
, Does that magic sound, 
From thine infant dreams beguiling 

Throw a sunlight round! 

Smile, baby smile — 
For thy father's footsteps falling 

Softly on thine ear. 
Like an angel tone are calling 

Thy young soul to hear! 
He is with us — thanks to heaven 

For his tender love — 
J"or the treasures that were given 

.py the God above! 



THE EMPTINESS 0? HUMAN GLORY. 

The crumbling tombstoiie and the gor- 
geous mansoleum, the sculptured marble 
and the venerable cathedral, all bear wit- 
ness to the instinctive dssire within us to 
be remembered by coming generations. — 
But how short-Uvcd is the immortality 
which the work of our hands can confer! 
The noblest monuments of art that the 
world has ever seen are covered with the 
'soil of twenty centuries. Tbe_ works of 
^he age of Pericles lie at the foot of the 
'Acropolis in indiscrimin.ate ruin. The 
ploH'share turns up the marble which the 
itaftds of Phidias had ohisled into beauty, 
jaiid the Mussulman \\a& folded his flock 
beneath the falling columns of the temple 
of Minerva. Neither sculptured marble 
iior stately column can reveal to other 
ag'es the lineaments of the spirit, and these 
alon'e can embalm oin- memory in the 
hearts of a grateful posteritj"-. As the 
stranger stands beneath the dome of Sty 
Paul's or treads with religious awe, the 
silent aisles of Westminister Abbcj^, the 
sentiment which is breathed from every 
object around him is the utter empliness 
of sublunary glory. The $&& arts, obe- 
dient to private affections or public grati- 
tiide, have here embodied in every form^ 
the finest conception of which their . age 
■VVas capable; Each one of tlKise'' monu- 



ments has been watered by the tears of the 
widow, the orphan, or the patriot. But 
generations have passed away, and mourn- 
ers and mourned have sunk together into 
forgetfulness. 

It is by what we ourselves have done, 
and not what others have done for us, 
that Ave shall be i-emembered by after ages. 
It is by thought that has aroused my in- 
tellect from its slumbers, which has " giv- 
en lustre to virtue, and dignity to truth," 
or by those examples which have inflam- 
ed my soul with the love of goodness, and. 
noi'by means of sculptured marble, that I 
hold commtmion with shakespeare and 
Milton, with Johnson and Curke, ■^^■ith 
Howard and Wilberforce. — Dr. F. Way- 
land. 



A^ A R 1 E T I E S . 



An Anecdote of John Ad.^mS,. — When John 
Adams was a yonug man, lie wa^ invited to dine 
with the Court and Bar at llie huuse of judge 
Paine, an eminent Loyalist, at Wfirci e-ler. \\hen 
the wine was circulated round the laijle. Jud^L' 
Paine gave as atoast. The ■■King." yume of t\i.: 
"Whigs were about to refu.se.to drink it. Jiiit Mr. 
Adams whispered to them to comply, s,=iyiiiL;- ■•'Wc 
sliall have an opportunily to return the compli- 
ment." At length, when John Adams was de.si- 
red^to give a toast, he gave ■■The Demi." As^the 
lio.stwas about to resent lliesujiposed indignity, 
his wife calmed him and turned the laugh upon 
Mr. Adams by immediately saying, "My dear, as 
tlie gentlemen has seen fit to drink to our friend, 
let us by no means refuse, in our turn, to drink 
to his." 

You have no business to have any business 
.with other people's business; but mind your own 
business, an^l that is business enougli. 

To Soften Hard Water. — A few ounces of soda 
Avill soften a luuidred galloiis of tlie hardest watei j 
For wasliiug, it possesses a marked supeiorily 
over pot or pearlasli, giveing a delicate whitncss 
to the linen, witli tlio sligtest injur}'. 

Wh.\t are the most unsociable things in tlie 
world? Mill stones! you never see two of them to- 
gether. 

During one hot day last week, our Tom perpe- 
trated llie following, which is considered very 
good for the season: PufiBng witii the heat, saiil 
he, 'This is a day when a man feels like sitting 
upon springs and wearing pumps! — Day Book. 

A Mrs Phillips living near Vandalia, Illinois, 
had twin children about eighteen montlis since, 
and about three weeks since, gave birth to five 
more, all alive and kicking. Go it, ye suckers. 

It is stated that paralysis frequently attacks 
modellci-s in wax, from the absorption of the 
poisonous ingredients thereof through the pores 
of the hand. 

He who attcm.ps to mttke other believe ill means 
which he himself despises, is a puffer; lie who 
makes use of more means than he knows to the 
necessar)', is a quack; and he. who ascribes to 
those means a greater eilicacy than his own ex- 
perience warrants, an inipo.siter. — Lavtter. 

Equaliti- of the SEXiE. — A sensible friend re- 
marked, recently in a conversation, that woman 
was inferior to man whenever she attampted to 
fill the place designed, in the creation, for man to 
till; and that man inferior to woman, whenever lie 
attempted to fill her place and dischrge lier pecu- 
liar duties. This is putting the wliole queson of 
"equality" in a nutshell. 

Omb Shielisg E.\cn.' — An attorney in Dublin 
having died exceedingly poor, a sliilling cubscrip- 
tion was set on font to pav tlie expenses of liis fu- 
neral. Most of the attorneys and barristiTs liav- 
ing subscribed, one of them applied to Toler,'af- 
terwards. Lord ChiefJusticeNorbury, expressing 
his hope that he would also sub.soribe his shilling. 
'Only a shilling!' said Toler — 'only a shilling to 
bury.an attorney. .Here is a guinea; go andbury 
oixe-atid-tweifty of,. i'hvi-a.'—^Ticist'sLife of Loril. 



. The Miseries of the Rich. — With all 
his hoardings, Rothschild was by no means 
a happy man. Dangers, and assassina- 
tions seemed to haunt his imagination by 
day and by night ;, and not without 
grounds. Many a time, as he himself 
said, just before be sat down to dinner, a 
note would be put into his band running 
thus; ' 'If you do not send me immediately 
live hundred poitnds I wiil blow your 
brains out!' He effected to. despise sucli 
threats; they nevertheless exercised a dire- 
ful effect tipon the millionaire. He load- 
ed his pistols every night before he went 
to bed, and put them beside him. He did 
not think himself more secure in his coun- 
ting house than in bis bed. It must be 
moreover confessed that the members of, 
synagogtie generally did not entertain the 
same respect for him as the foreign Jews 
do for the Rothschilds of Frankford. — 
Some thoui^Iit he might have done rnore 
for his brethren than he did; and that if 
he had only used the influence which he 
possessed wiili Guvernment and the ma- 
ny friends wdiich he had at court, all the 
civil disabilities with which the British 
Jev.s continued to be^ stigmatised would 
have been abolished when the proposition 
was first mooted. 'But Rothschild,' said 
an intelligent English Jew to the writer, 
'was too great a slave to his money, and 
all other slavery was counted liberty iir 
his sight.' — Margoliath's ' Jeiu in Great 
Britain.' 



0O°° All men of estates are, in effect 
but trustees for "the benefit of the dis- 
tressed, and will be so reckoned when they 
are to give an acconunt. 

CCr' The man who first introduced the 
fanning-mill into Scotland, was denounced 
as an Atheist — he was getting up gales of 
wind when Providence willed a, calm! 



FEMAI^E SEMINAIE"^. 

THE n.ext session of Mrs. H.tr.vE's School 
will commence on Monday,, the 25th of 
August. Terms as heretofore. augl2. 



BAPTIST FEMALE INSTITUTE, 

MurfreesborOuarh. 

n^lHE Trustees of this Institution take pleasure 
JL in announcing that they have made arrange- 
ments for the immediate Organization of this 
School. The first session will commence in the 
Baptist Church, on the first Monday in August, 
under tlie superintendence of Mrs. J.H. Eaton, 
who will be assisted by as many competent 
teachers as thewautsof thelustitute mayrequire. 

Efforts arc being made to erect immediately, 
commodious and suitable buildings. 

The course of instruction will be as thorough 
as any Female School in ourcountiw. Arrange- 
ments liave been made to ;iccommodate a num- 
Ijer of young ladies with Board in the best pri- 
vate families on reas<uiable terms, 
RATES OF TUITION. 

1st Class, witli Greek and Latin, $20 00 
Do without " •■ 16 00 

Ond Cl.ass 12 00 

3rd Clas 8 00 

TEBMS^ 

'Die Classic Union Avill be published on the 
lir.-t and fifteenth of each month, at" One Dol- 
lar ]ier year, invariably in advance. Address 
M. HiLLsjrA>",;josi^>(/i(/. 

Pnlished at the office of the Rutherford Tele- 
graph, South-west Oornec of the Square. 



l/ 









1-^ 

^S?,. I /M S M ^ li t3 P 



VOL. I. 



DEVOTED TO RELIGION, LITEKATURE, AlfD GENERAL IlfTELLIGENCE. 

MURFREESBOROUGH, OCTOBER 1, 1851. 



NO. 2. 



AN EXTRACT FROM THE ADDRESS 

To the Graduating Class of Union Unwersiiy , 

Jubj leth, 1851. 

No period in. a young man's history is 
fraught with deeper interest than that in 
which he goes forth from the walls of his 
Alma Mater to take his place among his 
fellow men and participate in the active 
scenes of life. Then the problem is to be 
solved before the world, whether he has 
by diligence and application rendered the 
years of Collegiate life profitable, and 
whether his mind by thorough culture is 
to be a beacon light to attract and guide his 
fellow man onward and upward in the as- 
cending path of virtue and moral excel- 
lence, or whether by inactivity he will 
dwindle into insignificance, or ivhat is far 
worse,prove a phosphorescent vapor which 
under the semblance of light shall beguile 
the unwary into the filthy marshes of 
vice and dissipation. 

Many a man fails of accomphshing 
life's great mission by having no definite 
aim — no paramount object or great pur- 
pose in view. He commences his career 
without selecting anj' object to which to 
direct his energies and upon which to con- 
centrate his eflforts. For tliis reason a 
vast amount of mental labor and physical 
exertion is expended for naught, producing 
no valuable result. The influence of a clear- 
ly defined and absorbing object is to give 
power and directness to the exertions of 
the mind which will always insure suc- 
cess. 

You young men are about to go out in 
the busy world and perform your part in 
the great work of life — you will not of 
course be satisfied to allow those powers 
of mind which you have been laborino- to 
cultivate and strengthen, to dwindle into 
weakness and puerility for want of exer- 
tion. Let me urge upon you to select 
some definite object upon which to be- 
stow your eflforts, and in the selection of 
that object the principle which should 
guide you, is the consideration of ike 



greatest amount of usefulness to your fel- 
low creatures. Nothing which is really 
useful should be considered above the 
dignity of educated men; for the sole de- 
sign of education is to increase the pow- 
er of being useful, and nothing but use- 
fulness can confer real dignity. It is not 
essential to usefulness that some great 
and splendid results of our efforts should 
be immediately visible. The obscure 
teacher, who labors patiently in his lit- 
tle school house among the mountains, or 
in some sequestered vale, with twenty or 
thirty boys around him to develope their 
faculties and impress upon their plastic 
minds, principles of truth and rectitude 
which shall influence their whole future 
lives, may be far more useful than the 
honored statesman "whose fame is world 
wide and whose eloquence has achieved 
some great national advantage — for he 
may give a right direction to numerous 
streams of influence which shall go on 
widening, and enlarging, and acquiring 
increased power for good, till the whole 
mass of human society shall be born aloft 
upon the swollen tide. Instead- of one 
wise statesman, or one wise measure, or 
one correct principle, hundreds may arise 
as the result of his labor for the benefit of 
mankind. It requires no small degree of 
moral heroism thus to labor for good which 
is future and distant, but the greatest 
benefactors of the human race have thus 
labored. In the prosperity which now 
crowns our happy, favored land, and in 
the happiness which we enjoy above oth- 
er nations, we are reaping the fruits of 
the labors of others, of whom the great 
majority lived and died in obscurity. — 
But their lives were an exemplification of 
of the principles of freedom and vfrtuo, 
and their influence still lives, though their 
names are forgotten. They planted the 
acorn, we are reposing beneath the mighty 
oak. 

Cultivate, then, a desire for usefulness 
until it becomes strong enough itself to 



call forth all your powers into active ex- 



ercise. It is an easy thing to form splen- 
did schemes for the amelioration of the 
condition of our race, but to have a mo- 
tive strong enough to impel to the execu- 
tion of those which the imagination has 
drawn is the great desideratum. Because 
a sure prospect of immediate fame or em- 
olument was not present to the mind, 
many a gloi-ious plan has been abandoned, 
but let the desire of usefulness he para- 
mount .to. all other motives, audit will 
lead you-to act, and to act successfully, 
and the esteem of your fellow men, and 
a, competency will follow as a natural re- 
sult, but even if it were not so, it were 
better to;J&ff.jtisefal and in want than to be 
d!b in the midst of affluence. 

You will not I trust cease to be students 
till you have done with life, but endeavor 
to turn all your exertions and investiga- 
tions to some practical purpose, seek to 
apply the truths you have already acquired 
or may hereafter acquire to advance the 
intei-est of the human family. 

We hear much of the nobleness of pur- 
suing truth iior truth's sake, but how su- 
perior is the pleasure of that man who 
amid all his investigalions — amid the rich 
enjoyment which new thoughts afford, 
keeps ever in view the good of his fellow- 
beings, and studies to know how he can 
apply the ti-uths he discovers for their ad- 
vancement in all tliat dignifies- and adorns 
humanity. He alone accomplishes the 
end for which he was created. "The earth 
bears no greater man on its surface than 
he who with every sensibiHty quickened 
and refined by culture, with talents fitted 
for display and capable of acquiring lu.xu- 
rious wealth, through all the misleading 
opinions of the world, devotes himself with 
persevering ardor to the sublime purpose 
of promoting the true welfare of his fel- 
low man." The individual who pursues 
his- studies for the mere pleasure which he 
receives ia ' the contemplation of new 
truths, deserves no more credit than the 



CLASSIC UNION. 



man who quicliens and Tvarms his benevo- 
lent feelings by reading at his iire side the 
beneficent acts of others without putting 
fortli any action corresponding to those 
emotions. We own that there is high 
pleasure in the investigation of truth; the 
intellectual gratification thus afi:brded, next 
to the moral pleasures, is the highest of 
whick our nature is capable. We would 
advise those who live only for pleasure and 
have no desire beyond their own happin'ess 
to seek it in the acquisition of knowledge 
rather than in sensual enjoyments. Nor 
would we advise those who are in pursuit 
of knowledge in order that they may be 
useful, to wait in every instance until they 
can see the practical bearing of the truth 
they acquire — we would havethem wan- 
der forth admiringly amid the diversified 
Gelds of literature and science, and gather 
the beauties that there bloom in rich abun- 
dance, but we would have them consider 
that knowledge when obtained is for use, 
not for show-. All knowledge worthy of 
being acquired is capable of being made 
subservient to the advancement of the hu- 
man race. There are truths which were 
for ages admired merely for their beauty 
and harmony, but these have been seized 
by some powerful intellects melted in the 
crucible of thought and moulded in some 
practical and useful form and caused to 
g«nerate others in endless succession, thus 
forming a new era in the history of human 
advancement. Is sot Jie Who shapes the 
rough marble and from it rears a useful 
structure fit for human habitation, worthy 
of as much credit as he who first discover- 
ed it in the query and left it there as it 
bad been for ages? so he who takes the raw 
material thrown out of t^ query of 
thought and shapes it to the wants of the 
world, deserves' a brighter mead of fame 
than he who mereTy discovered tbe truth 
without making any application of it. He 
who turned his thoughts to discover the 
way by which the force that lifted the lid 
of a tea kettle, could be applied to the 
gratification of human desires, is held in 
more grateful remembrance than he who 
made the original observation; for by so 
doing he subjected to human control a 
power which by the stroke of a piston has 
set millions of wheels in motion — awaken- 
td the dormant energies of nations and 
scattered the light of knowledge, freedom 
and pure religion along the shores of every 
sea and every river, and amid the islands 
of the oceans. The American philoso- 
pher was not satisfied with the mere di.?. 
covery of the electric fluid — he did not 
cease his invcstiga'ions until Ik' di<;covered 



the laws by which its motions are regulated 
and applied this knowledge to the protec- 
tion of human habitations from its destruc- 
tive violence. 

There arc those who, thinking they 
alone are acquainted with the legitimate 
object of truth, rail at the spirit of the 
present age as too practical. — They say, 
the great inquiry is now, how can knowl- 
edge be simplified and brought within the 
reach and comprehension of ordinary 
minds. This they regard as degrading 
science. They would have an intellectual 
priesthood established and be appointed as 
door keepers to the Temple of Truth and 
admit none but those who come to gaze in 
mute delight upon the splendid architraves 
and lofty columns of the spacious dome. 

Instead of having new channels dug to 
the foimtain heads of knowledge or en- 
larging those already made, they would 
have them carefully guarded from allex- 
cepL those who come to drink for the 
sweetness of the waters and not to refresh 
and invigwate the system. We are not 
an advocate for this aristocracy of learning. 
But we would urge upon all to aid in re- 
moving every obstacle and smoothing the 
wa}' for the speedy ascent of every rational 
beinn-. 



For the Classic Union. 
OBSCURITY OF STYLE. 

A famous Frenchman once said that 
language was made to conceal ideas. This 
was a very good satire on the diplomacy 
of bis time, which, like the witches of 
Macbeth, 

"Keep the irord of promise to the ear. 
But break it to our hope." 



From your course, young men, as stu- 
dents which has ever been exemplary and 
worthy of commendation, we entertain 
high hopes of your future usefulness. — 
Were it not for this confidence, we would 
experience more painful emotions from the 
severance of those ties which have so long 
bound us in the endearing relation of pu- 
pils and instructors. The world is in need 
of your efibrts. The .fields are white'for 
the harvest. We have done what we 
could to prepare you to labor successfully 
in those fields, and now we bid you go 
forth, invoking for you Heaven's richest 
blessings and praying tliat a life of use 
fnlnessmay be crowned by an immortality 
of bliss. E. 

Death of Beverly Tucker Esq. — The 
Southern Press of the 5th says: We are 
pained to announce the death of Beverly 
Tucker, Esq., late professor of lov in 
Wdliam and Mary Colledge. His domes- 
tic life was beautiful to contemplate; he 
had almost run his three-score, and in his 
time has laid a foundation of a reputation 
that can never fade. He was the last of 
an intellectually gigantic family. Pea,ce 
to the ashes of the sreat ! 



It cost us more to be miserable, than 
would make us perfectly happy. 



But there is a class of writers in mod- 
ern times, who, though (as we believe) 
as guiltless of ideas as they are of any 
intention of concealing them, have yet 
crept into favor — not in spite of an ob- 
scure, corrupt style, but by means of it. 
We say that the class of writers to whom 
we refer have become famous not in spite 
of their barbarous syntax and orthogra- 
phy, but by means thereof; and we believe 
that the remark is generally true. There 
are one or two good thinkers of the pre- 
sent day who are read and justly admired, 
notwithstanding the uncouth style in 
which their ideas are clothed. But we 
are sure that if these had delivered them- 
selves in plain and intelligible language, 
their works would have been much more 
acceptable to those who read for the pur- 
pose of being informed. 

While we concede that there are one or 
two of the class referred to, whose 
thoughts will repay the student for disen- 
gaging them from the mesh of uncouth 
words in which they are entangled, we 
still maintain that there are many books 
now, extensively read and applauded usque 
ad cclum, that if they had been written in 
a plain style, would have attracted but lit- 
tle attention. To a man of plain iinder- 
standing, it would seem that out of the 
thousands of words now in use the most 
profound and prolific thinker might select 
such as would express his conceptions. — 
Nor does it seem to us that there is any 
reason why the most abstruse thought 
cannot be expressed in language easily 
understood. Who would question the 
fact that Bacon and Locke were profound 
thinkers? Yet these, and other great 
masters of the English philosophy, found 
the English language, with its accepted 
orthography and syntax, a fit vehicle to 
convey the most recondite truths to their 
readers. We are aware that much of 
Bacon's philosophy was written in the Lat- 
in lanouage. The truth is that when an 
idea — very abstruse though it may be — 
is once thoroughly mastered by the mind, 
it will find its appropriate utterance in 
language at once simjile and expressive. — 
A more truly profound and philosophil 



CLASSIC UNIOK. 



19 



work can no where be found than Butler's 
Analogy. It is justly celeurated for its 
depth of thought and analytic logic, yet 
we venture tlie assertion that no person of 
good intelligence can apply himself studi- 
ously to any page or sentence of that 
great treatise without understanding fully 
what ideas the author meant to .convey by 
the words employed. And after our stu- 
dent has mastered the subject we believe 
that he could not recast the ideas in more 
intelligible words. There are minds, 
which, led by some fatuity or other, seem 
to associate obscurity of style with pro- 
fundity of matter; nor can such be per- 
suaded that anything witten in simple lan- 
guage can possess more than ordinary 
merit. There was a time when a lucid 
style, through which the writer's meaning 
shown as through the most translucent 
medium, was esteemed a great merit. — 
But no sentence which can be construed 
by the'aid of the English grammar and 
dictionary finds any favor with our meta- 
physicians. Take up the most admired 
writings of this cl iss, and you will many 
times find whole sentences that consist of 
a mere jargon of words, as unintelligible 
as a witch's gibberish. Yet the admirers 
of the grammar school, and of Carlyle, 
and of Emerson, go into ecstasies, and 
fairly persuade themselves that under this 
cabalistic array of uncouth words there 
lurks some hidden meaning, only the more 
precious by reason of its obscurity. And 
since we have mentioned the name of Car- 
lyle, we seize the opportunity to express 
the regret which we feel in common with 
his most judicious admirers, that a writer 
of such power should have so materially 
impaired his usefulness by adopting so re- 
pulsive a style. And we think this is more 
to be regretted because Carlyle has shown 
himself capable of better things in this 
respect. We could by quotations easily 
verify the remark that many of the most 
striking passages in his writings are those 
where he has kept himself comparatively 
free from his peculiarities of slyle. But 
we content ourselves with simply referring 
to his description of the fall of the. Bas- 
tile, in his French Revolution, and the 
death of Marie Antoinelle, in his Miscel- 
lanies, as justifying our remarks. These 
celebrated pieces are characteristic enough 
to proclaim their parentage, but Carlyle's 
peculiarities of style, though discernable 
here, do not exist to that exaggerated de- 
gree elsewhere seen in his writings. We 
did not purpose at this time to say any- 
thing as to tlie merits of this class, con- 
sidered as the expounders of the philoso- 



phy of mind; for we have no hesitation in 
admitting a felt incompetency to take such 
a full and comprehensive view of this lofty 
branch of human knowledge as would be 
necessary to assign to each one his proper 
degree of merit. But there are passages 
scattered here and there through those 
writers that cannot fail to attract attention 
and provoke comment. We take the 
liberty of quoting one, of many similar 
passages, fi'om a popular German writer, 
which will place before our readers in a 
clearer light some remarks which we have 
made. The following is the paragraph 
alluded to: 

"Every one will admit that A=A; or 
that A is A. This is an axiom which is 
known intuitively, and has no need of 
proof It is the proposition of absolute 
identity. It is absolutely true. In admit- 
ting this to be absolutely true, we ascribe 
to the mind a faculty of knowing absolute 
truth. But in saying A=A, we do not 
affirm the existence of A; we only affirm 
that if A exists then it must equal A. — 
And the -axiom teaches us, not that A ex- 
ists, but that this is a necessary relation 
between a certain if and then; and this 
necessary relation we will call X. But 
this relation, this X, is only in the ego,- 
and comes from the ego. It is the ego 
that judges in the preceding axiom that 
A=A, and it judges by means of tjie X. 
But as the X is wholly in the ego, so there- 
fore is A in the ego and posiied by the 
ego. And by this we see that there is 
something in the ego which is forever one 
and the same, and that is the X. ■ Hence 
the formula, I am I; ego==ego."* 

Now this may be, for aught we aver, 
philosophy and sound reasoning. But for 
our own part, we confess ourselves xitterly 
unable to reach the height of this high ar- 
gument. We have carefully pondered 
every word in it, and if it conveys one 
idea which is worthy of all this parade, 
and show of mathematical demonstration, 
it has wholly escaped us. If Fichte is 
laboring to show, as it would seem, that 
the ideas of identity and equality are 
distinct ideas, he might have saved himself 
the trouble. For there is no sound mind 
that will not as readily admit this to be an 
axiom as thatA=A. Tliis also is "abso- 
lutely true." The truth is, as it seems to 
us, that all of the foregoing, like a great 
deal found in German metaphysics, or 
idealism, is just nothing more nor- less 
than solemn nonser.se. It is calculated 16 
instruct nobody. No man, after he has 
read all they have to say, is half repaid 
for his trouble. The little insight he 'de- 



rives from them into the origin of human 
ideas is, we believe, counterbalanced by 
the vicious taste which they inculcate. — 
No man who has given much attention to 
them is ever after able to appreciate books 
written in an older and better style, at least 
until he has freed himself from their influ- 
ence. Their crazy dreams seem to infest 
his vision so that he cannot take an inter- 
est in anything of a downright common 
sense character. BETA. 

*Westinini3ter Keview, April, 1S47. 



Masonic Intelligekce. — It it generally 
known (says a Philadelphia paper) that a 
disruption occurred in the Grand Lodge 
of Freemasons in New York in 1849, in 
consequence of amendments of its consti- 
tution, by which past masters, other than 
the last past master of each subordinate 
lodge, were deprived of the right to vote. 
It was contended by a portion of the fra- 
ternity that those amendments were un- 
constitutional, and withdrawing from the 
grand lodge, of which Judge Willard, of 
Trov, was then grand master, they organ- 
ized a new grand lodge, taking with them 
the funds of the old body, for the reco\'ery 
of which, we believe an action is now 
pending. These differences excited the 
attention of other grand lodges, who were 
called upon to determine which of these 
bodies they would recognize as the true 
grand lodge of New York. The grand 
lodges of twenty-four States of this Union, 
that of Montreal and William Henry, the 
grand lodge of Peni, and most of those 
in Europe^ soon declared in favor of the 
old, or as it was called, for the sake of 
distinction, the "Willard" grand lodge. 

Action was delayed by the grand lodge 
of England, however, until very recently, 
and her decision has been looked fur by 
the Freemasons of this country with tliu 
greatest interest. We- learn fl-om tiie 
Amei-ican Keystone, the organ of the Ma- 
sonic fraternity in this city, that the spe- 
cial committee appointed by the Earl of 
Zetland, the English grand masier, htive 
reported that the contested amenuiuents 
were legally and constitutionally made. — 
They hold that "the grand lodge which 
for so many years has subsisted in tlij? 
State of New Yoik, still coiitipues its 
functions, and still possesses of right an 
unimpaired jurisdiction, and still is wiih- 
in the local limits of that jurisdiction, the 
only grand lodge which can be Masoni' 
cally recognized." 

, The grand lodge thus sustiiiced is the 
one of which Oscar Coles is grand mas^ 
ter, and Dr. J. W. Powell grand secretary, 
Messi's. Phillips and- Hen- ng are the prin^ 
cipal officers of tlie other body. It is 
probable that a reconciliaiiou will now hx; 
eflcctcd. 



20 



CLASSIC UNION. 



GOD'S WORD NOT THE OCCASION OF 
MAN'S DIFFEEENT CREEDS. 

So many and conflicting are the . senti- 
ments wLioli men pretend to derive from 
the Scriptures, that many find in them an 
excuse for believing and obeying nothing 
of the Word of God. And. were the dif- 
ference owing to the real obscurity of the 
Bible — were it really difficult or impossi- 
ble for an honest mind to find the truth in 
the Bible, he would find an excuse for 
his unbehef in it, and it would be unjust 
for God to say, "He that believeth not 
shall be damned." That threatening- 
leveled at unbehef assumes,, that the gos- 
pel is plain enough, and level to the ca- 
pacities of common minds, and tliat er- 
rors and differences of opinion about it 
have their cause, not in the revelation it- 
self, but in men's unwillingness to receive 
it as it is; and in the vicious biases of the 
mind, resulting from the blindness in the 
heart. 

It is natural for men to fanc3r, that if 
there were a living oracle, to which they 
might appeal to solve all questions that 
might arise — one that could speak by in- 
spiration, and give infallible truth respec- 
ting doctrines or truths, there, would be 
none of these differences; but all would be 
found embracing the same truths. But 
this is a great mistake. Once the church 
had not one, but a whole college of apes- 
ties; who all taught the same infallible 
truth, and co whose decision Christians 
might personally refer every question of 
doctrine or duty. 

But did this advantage exclude all dif- 
ferences of opinion? Or did all> profes- 
.sing Christians acquiesce in their dictation? 
The fact was far from this. Men treated 
inspired truth then just as they do now. 
Paxil found himself as much opposed by 
fa,lse teachers when he taught in person 
and spoke by inspiration, as he is now op- 
posed by false teachers in his teaching 
through his Epistle to the Romans and to 
the Galatians. Now, men who have any 
favorite point to carry, will sooner deny 
the inspiration of Paul than receive the 
doctrines as he has taught them. And so 
was with the false teachings among the 
Galatians. 

The fact is, inspired truth, as God has 
taught it, is uncongenial to what is per- 
verse in the human mind. And it is this 
perversity of man, rather than any obscu- 
rity of the Divine Teacher, that leads men 
astray, and begets such a variety of con- 
flicting creeds. Hence, Paul counts here- 
sies among the works of the flesh, and 
olas.ses them with adultery, fornication, 
witchcraft, naurder, drunkenness, and the 
like as' being in the same sense criminal. — 
Let not the sins of men be imputed to the 
Word of God. 

Still it will be asked— What shall the 
poor man do when he sees so many learn- 
ed and apparently godly men, so divided 
in sentiment about the teaching of the Bi- 
ble? On which of them shallhe rely for 
his grides? We answer. Upon none of 
them. In the Bible God opens before 
him a document which he himself may 
understand; unless he is misled by the 



same perversity- of heart which has led 
astray the wise and prudent. 

And if he is thus misled, the fault is his 
own, God speaks to him in plain lan- 
guage, and he wants only an obedient 
heart to interpret for him. Let him be- 
gin his study of the Word of God wilh a 
consciousness that the heart's depravity 
is the spring of fundamental errors, and 
with a purpose to obey the truth so far as 
it is discovered; and then the Gospel 
scheme of doctrine will rise clearly to his 
view. 

THE "WIDOW'S LAMENT. 

Life to me is sad and weary. 
In a world so dark and dreaiy. 
All alone. 

Death of evei'y joy liath left me. 
Of life's cherished gifts bereft me. 
And in sorrow here hath left me 
All alone. 

Once T t"hdiight of bright to morrow — 
How 'tis but to brood o'er sorrow. 

All alone. 

" With my loved one to adore me, 
Gladiome hours came gliding o'er me — 
Not as now with life before me, 
All alone. 

Death hath made my loved one's pillow, 
Cold he lies beneath the willo_w, 

All alone. 

Naught now save ray babe hathboiTndme 
To a world where sorrow found me. 
In midst of mirth around mo. 

All alone. 

Joy again my soul re-entered; 
In my boy my hopes were centered 
All alone. 

Yet sorow's cup was still my portion. 
Bitterest pangs my heart's em tiou. — • 
Robert left me for the ocean, 

All alone. 

Ear i:pon the tossing billow, 
There he f6und a dying pillow. 

All alone. 

Now indeed hath hope departed. 
Joy for sorrow me hath parted — 
I am dreary, broken-hearted. 

All alone. 



The West.— The senior editor of the 
Missouri Repubhcan, and Mr. Kendall, of 
the Picayune, are on a tour to Santa Fe, 
&c. The editor of the Republican writes 
from Kansas that mail-stages are running 
regularly between Independence, Santa Fe 
and the Salt Lakes. The mail to Santa 
Fe weighs usually between . 250 and 300 
pounds; that to the Salt Lakes from ISO to 
200 pounds. The mail leaves for each 
point on the 1st of every month. It is 
carried in spring coaches, drawn by six 
mules, and the trip to Santa Fe is made in 
from 25 to 20 days, and to the Salt Lakes 
in from 28 to 30. Price of passage to 
either place !!|j125. It takes about one 
hundred mules to supply the lines. 

Truth can never contradict itself, but 
is eternal and immVitable, and the same 
in all ages. The states of men's recep- 
tions of it are as' various as the principles, 
and subjects of natural creation. I 



"I SEE A LIGHT— I'AM ALMOST HOME." 

A pleasant summer evening, with its re- 
freshing air and calm repose, was closing 
in upon the city of Providence. The hur- 
ried step of the laboring mass, homeward 
bound, became less frequent and distinct, 
as the veil of night was more closely 
drawn around the earth. Many an ex- 
pectant family were looking for returning 
inmates, who had been absent for long, 
weary hours, with kind smiles of welcome. 
And many a weary man passed on with 
eager looks directed at the homestead, 
where was centred all the treasures of 
his heart. A few steps more are taken, 
and he now breathes freer, saying with 
delight, "I see the light, I'm almost 
home. '■' 

To one young traveller on the world's 
highway, life's evening at that hour was 
closing in. Of ie'w years' experience, she 
had yet learned the lesson, difficult to 
many, that earth was not her home. — 
Each day of her existence was recognized 
a short but rapid stage, leading onward to 
that more abiding countrj', where she 
hoped to live forever. Feeble health for 
many months hurried that journey to its 
close. The infirm travelled faster to- 
wards the grave than those of stronger 
limb and firmer health. 

About her chamber glided gently the 
loved forms of her parents, and an only 
sister. She silently noted her movements 
with a mild expression of her dying eye, 
turning it from side to side. Arrested by 
her peculiar look, so expressive ofaffiiction 
and patient suffering, they paused to look 
upon her, whom they only saw now but 
dimly through their tears, and so soon 
should see no more. 

A feeble effort to speak, a quivering 
voiceless movement of the lips, drew 
closely around her the loving hearts of 
that sorrowing circle. Mother, father, 
sister, all came closer to her side. A plaj'- 
ful smile lit up her countenance. She lay 
her little pulseles hand within her mo- 
ther's palm, then closed her eyelids to the 
light of earth and sank away. The cold, 
damp air of death's shadowy valley 
seemed clo.'^ing over her. Slowly sinking 
down she glided towards that river-shore, 
which like a narrow stream, divides the 
spirit-land from ours. But see ! the quiv- 
ering lips essay to speak: "Mother!" — 
Oh! how each heart throbbed now, and 
then each pulse stood still. They listen: 
— "Mother!" the dying girl breathed 
forth- — " I — see — a light, — I'm almost 
home ! " 

Blessed thought! Light is sown for the 
righteous, even amid the gloom and dark- 
ness of the o;rave. 



Every seed connot but, bring forth its 
own kind and no other.. Note it well, for 
that which is formed here in you, can on- 
ly be found hereafter; and as the tree falls 
(the state of eternal life in you) so it will 
lie, or ever remain. 

When we are alone we have our thoughts 
to watch — in our families, our tempers — 
and in society, our tongues. 



C-LAS.SIC UNION. 



21 



THERE IS MUCH TO DO. 

Reader, what answer will j'ougive to 
the thrilliag inquiry of God, Math. 20: 6. 
".Why stand ye here all the day idle?" 
You are individually addressed, do not, 
therefore suppose that you can evade the 
inquiry, or escape the fearful doom of a 
non-doer. The claim of God is just, 
abroad, and cannot be disregarded with 
impunity. In alleviating the miseries of 
life, and in saving souls from eternal death, 
God is pleased to employ human instru- 
mentality, is ready to employ you, and 
therefore inquires, " Why stand ye here 
all the day idle?" 

With the lamp of life in your bands, 
look at'tbe countless millions, that move 
forward with amazing rapidity, amid all 
the abominations of heathenism to the 
fearful' retribution of eternity. Here and 
there it is true, the missionary of the cross 
has kindled up a light, but these luminous 
points, few and far between, serve to make 
the surrounding darkness more cheerless, 
and enable us to see the iron i-od of des- 
potism, and the galling- yoke of supersti- 
tion, under which millions of the human 
family groan. Can 5'ou therefore look at 
this vast multitude, deeply sunk in misery, 
wretchedness and crime, and see them 
crowd the broadway to eternal death, 
without feeling that you are personally ad- 
dressed, and that there is a stupendous 
work to be performed. You bestow a trib- 
ute of praise upon the physician, who al- 
leviates the miseries of life, and praise the 
philanthropist, who dries up the tear of 
sorrow and cheers the drooping heart; but 
what is all this compared to the work you 
may perform ? A mere cypher. Since 
then God places before you a noble work, 
a work insepaiably connected with your 
best interests for time and eternity — a 
work in which God the Father, God the 
Son; God the Holy Ghost, and all the an- 
gels of God are emploj-ed, and addresses 
himself to every noble, generous, and be- 
nevolent feeling of the heart, what will 
you do ? What answer will you return? 

But draw a less circle, and glance over 
your beloved country. A country exalted 
to heaven in point of privilege. Alas 
here many are steeped in vice, and multi- 
tudes are in the gall of bitterness and bond 
of iniquit}'. Under the blaze of gospel 
light the way of death is still crowded. — 
Men in elevated stations by their influence- 
are dragging their fellow men, and ungodl}' 
parents dragging their children down to 
the chambers of eternal death. The arm 
of rebellion is raised high against God, and 
the tongues of children taught to lisp the 
dialect of the damned. A fearful specta- 
cle. 

An immense harvest is perishing; a har- 
vest of souls; and this too at your own 
door, and before your eyes, while God is 
calling for laborers, and inquiring "Why 
stand ye here all the day idle ?-" If pro- 
perty were in danger from devouring tire, 
or a devastating flood, or natural life from 
the attack of disease; you woiild hearken 
to the first cry for aid. How much rather 
then hearken when souls are in danger, 
and God calls for laborers and offers as 



pay whatsoever is right. But draw a stil 
less circle, and look at those who partake 
of the same flesh and blood as yourself. 
Look at your nearest and dearest relatives 
Whither do their footsteps tend ? Are not 
many of them still under the sentence of 
eternal death and on their way to hell ? — 
Fix your eyes iipon them as they press 
forward through all the means of grace 
and privileges they enjoy to the judgment 
seat of Christ. Estimate the value of 
their deathless spirits, consider the uncer- 
tainty of life, and calculate the probabili- 
ties against - them- Another week, and 
they may be beyond the reach of hope, 
and with the rich man crying for water to 
cool their parching tongue. Even now 
they may be on the crumbling vei-ge of 
eternitj', and still you are idle, though as 
an instrument in the hand of God, you 
might save some from eternal death. ^ 
Think, reader of the position you occupy, 
of the work in which you might engage, 
of the inquiry left at tlie door of your 
heai-t, of the review your idleness will un- 
dergo, and the folly aijd madness of your 
present indifference; for God ha-h said 
" He that knoweth to do good and doeth 
it not, to him it is sin.'' — S/. Louis Presby- 
terian. 



The Wonders of Califoexia. — Profes- 
sor Shepard, in giving an account of his 
recent exploration of California, portrays 
the country in the following enthusiastic, 
almost romantic, stjie: 

" I have now explored Ca]ifornia for 
nearly two years. I can truly say it is- a 
land of wonders. There are fresh flowers- 
every month in the )"ear, and winter now 
wears the bloom of spring. I have found 
water-falls-three and four times as high as 
Niagara; natural bridges, of white marble 
far sui-passing in beauty that of Rock- 
bridge, Va.; some thousands of gold bear- 
ing veins, inexhaustible quantities of iron 
and crone ores, lead, bismuth, and quick- 
silver, most beautiful porcelain clay, and 
in short,' every thing that can bless an in- 
dustrious and enterprising people. In one 
valley, I found more than 40 springs of 
over one hundred degrees Fahrenheit. — 
In another valley sixteen ge3'sers, like the 
famous one in Iceland. In this famous 
abode of Vulcan tlie rocks are so hot that 
you can stand upon them but a short ti'me 
even with thick boots on. The silicious 
rooks are bleached to snowy whiteness; 
and breeciated and conglomerate rocks are 
now actually forming. The roar of gey- 
sers at times may be heard a mile or more; 
and the moment is one of the most intense 
interest as you approach them. 

The Word is the volume or code of laws 
proper to the Divine Order, and that or- 
der manifested: and inasmuch..<i3 the Lord 
is inseparable from his own order, he 
may be said to exist in the Word, and that 
the man who seeks in sincerity of heart 
to know the mind, of God in the 'Word) 
does in spirit question the Lord. 



'mSDOMIN "ft''Ii^^NIM'G SOULS. 

The Holy Spirit is' acknowledged to be 
the grand agency in the conversion of men. 
The instrumentality which he, in -his sov- 
ereign grace employs, is the truth of the 
gospel, — the law as a schoolmaster to lead 
to Chiist, the atonement as the only -me- 
dium of pardon to the guiltv. Yet, while 
all this is conceded, and while there is lit- 
tle danger that Christians will too much 
magnify the Spirit's influence in conver- 
sion, it is worth our noting tlaat God makes 
men the channels of coijveying the truth 
of the law and the gospel to the minds of 
their fellows. It is likewise especially de- 
serving of no'lice, that deselects and hon- 
ors most in this work those who evince the 
greatest zeal for his gloiy, and who cher- 
ish the tenderest solicitude for the salvation 
of their families and neighbors. 

There is, doubtless, such a thing as wis- 
dom in winning souls. It . is not the pos- 
session of the most gifted inintellect or in 
eloquence. But these maj- operate as ef- 
fectiial aids. But the first requisite is 
LOVE, a singleness of aim, an absorbing 
purpose, an ardor which "many waters 
cannot quench, nor floods down." Where 
this exists, " the wisdom that is from 
above" cometh down, to dwell in the-'oul, 
dii-ecting its energies, making the words 
that it utters, as "goads fastened by the 
Master of Assemblies.-' Conversation 
with him who is thus endowed, is wise and 
skillful. His exhortations are persuasive, 
his monitions timely, and often prove as 
" arrows in the hearts of the King's ene- 
mies," whereby not a few fall into the ranks 
of the Redeemer. , 

How inexpressibly important is the wis- 
dom that renders a man effective in win- 
ning souls. How infinitely it transcends 
all the sagacity and the finesse of tlie men 
of this world. The springs that feed the 
one come from God, v,'hile those that feed 
the other too often come-from beneath. — 
Then look at the reward awaiting those 
wJio have leai'ned at the feet of Jesus the 
Divine skill of pulling men out of the-fires 
that can-never be quenched. - "They that 
be ^vise sliall shine as the brightness of 
the firmament, and they that turn many to 
righteousness as the stars forever and 
ever." 

Here is truly a high road to immortal 
distinction. Men may be the vain aspi- 
rants for earthly Ironors. They may fix 
their r.rabition upon a- goal of renown; 
which, though they may run after, they 
shall never reach. Biit he that seeks 'the 
honor that cometh from God," by having 
" compassion" on his fellow men, and la- 
boring to save them, shall not herq seek 
in vain. "When the Chief Sliepherd 
shall appear, he shall receive a crown of 
glory that fadeth not away." 



Religion is said to be the. true basis of 
man's conduct, biit oftener it is made the 
pedest.il of his pride. 



The. Word of God is the etern;d order 
of God, and the same wi;h Divine Truth. 
As it was, so it ever will be, one in itfvlf, 
although variously received by innumera- 
ble recipients. 

DZr If is c tiniated tliat tlieie are tliive and a 
half millions of dogs in the United States, and 
that the expense of keeping them is equal to 
t^vcnty million-- of shwp or two milions of cows. 



22 



CLASSIC UNION. 



A TOUCHING INCIDENT. 

A little girl was returning to England 
in charge of the captain. She was the 
onl}' female on board, and b}' her sweet 
simplicity had won the love of the noble 
captain and his passengers. The poor 
child was very, very sick nearly all the 
way, and became verj' much reduced in 
strength. One dreary night, the fancy 
struck her that soda water would be re- 
freshing, and it was given her perhaps too 
freely. Spasms of the stomach imme- 
diately ensued, and before the morning 
came, the little sufferer had passed away 
to a better world; mourning most of all, 
that mother's gen'.le hind would not close 
her eyes in their last sleep, nor a mother's 
prayer (a mother's praver !) linger last 
upon her deafening ear. 

But the great stalwart captain had al- 
most a mother's heart. He, whose voice 
could be heard high np a loft, when the 
tempest raged in its fury, had tones of 
gentleness and love for the poor dyino- 
child; and though he scarcely knew the 
meaning of the word fear, tears fell like 
rain from his eyes upon the wasted face of 
the little corpse. 

Be'autiful, beautiful, most beautiful^ 
though ful of gloom — was the scene pre- 
sented in that cabin on that wild winter''s 
night. With exquii^ite delicacy, and al- 
most sacred tenderness was the corpse 
laid out and preserved. But another try- 
ing time for the generous captain was yei 
to come, for he knew that the mother 
would hasten to the dock gates to meet 
her child die moment the ship's arrivul was 
telegraphed. And she did. The cap- 
tain saw her in an instant, and as the' ship 
got near enough to enable her voice to be 
heard, she could no longer restrain her- 
self, butcried outin tremulous accents ' 

"is Mary on board?" 

'J'he poor captain scarce knew what to 
say, but requested the mother to go to 
his hotel, and he would soon be with her. 
1 need not attempt a description of the 
subsequent scenes of this simple, though 
sad drama. Suffice it to say, that wlien 
Thamas B. Cropper, goes to his last ac- 
count, of tills touching incident it will 
surely be said — "Inasmuch as ye did it 
to tlie least of these my little-ones, ye did 

it UNTO ME." 



our citizens. We do not know what was 
the condition of the deceased gentleman's 
pecuniary affairs, but had he been perfect- 
ly penniless, he would have met with as 
much, and if possible, even more attention 
from the brethren of the order. What a 
beautiful lesson to the world ! There we 
see ihe stranger in our midst, sick, ' travel 
stained, foot sore and weary' — we see him 
make to those who are around him some 
mystic sign, and lo ! fi'om being a distress- 
ed stranger, he becomes at once surround- 
ed by friends, who with warm hearts and 
willing hands, place around him all the 
comforts that man can proTide for his suf- 
fering kind. 

Would that the world in this respect was 
one ' Grand Lodge;' how much suffering, 
how many valuable lives would be saved, 
and how different would be the feeling of 
man for his suffering fellow. Here upon 
the Mississippi, where our eyes have be- 
come familiar with death in allitsfoims, 
this attention and devotion, carried even 
to the threshold of the grave, should place 
the actors in the scence on enviable ground. 

Ever true to the symbolic links which 
unite them in fraternit}-. Odd' Fellows are 
always ready to hold the cooling draught 
to the fevered lips of a brother; and no 
matter to what clime he owes his nativity, 
or what form of religion he may adhere to, 
the sacred signs he is enabled to give, at 
once assure him in all situations and all 
difficulties, the kindness and sympathies 
of brothers. Veril}-, should the members 
of this noble order be excused for any of 
the little foibles of poor weak human na- 
ture, for "Charity covers a multitude of 
sins." — Memphis Uxprcss. 



The Odd-Fellow's Burial. — Whatever 
may be the seciets of the order of Odd- 
Fellows, and whatever the effects of se- 
cret societies, we leave entirely for the pub- 
lic to judge; but we have the-profoundest 
respect for the charity and brotherly love, 
by which the members of this great insti- 
tution appear to be actuated. 

There is no disguising the fact, that 
death has been busy in our midst, and 
from the frequent calls on our citizens to 
follow the deceased to their last restino- 
place — *ogether with the heat and dust, 
tunerals have been poorly attended. But 
all the above considerations could not de- 
ter the Odd Fellows yesterdaj-, from pav- 
ing their last ceremonies and respects to 
one of the ir deceased brethren, who died 
lii one of oijr hotels, a perfect stranger fo 



SOMETHING TO KNOW. 

The earth is a magnet, with magnetic 
currents constantly playing around it. — 
The human body is also a magnet, and 
when the body is placed in certain rela- 
tions to the earth, these currents harmo- 
nize — when in any other position they 
conflict. When one position is to be main- 
tained for some time, a position should be 
chosen in which the magnetic currents of 
the earth and the body will not conflict. — 
This position, as indicated by theory, and 
known by e.xperimcnt, is to lie with the 
head towards the north pole. Persons 
who sleep with their heads in the opposite 
direction, or lying crosswise, are liable to 
fall into various nervous disorders. — 
When they go back to the right position, 
these disorders, if not too deeply impress- 
ed upon the constitution, soon vanish. — 
Senative persons tire always more refresh- 
ed by sleep when their heads point due 
north. Architects, in planning, houses, 
should bear this principle in mind. 

tVhere necessitj^ ends, curiosit}- begins, 
and no sooner are we supplied with every 
thing that nature can demand, than we sit 
down to contrive artificial appetites. 

Tt requires more courage to think differ- 
ent from the multitude than it does to fight 
them. The first hero, therefore, was not 
he who made the first conquest, but he 
who uttered the first doubt. 



THE BIBLE. 

What a wonderful-book it is! A mul- 
tifarious collection of oracles, written in 
various ages and countries, and at inter- 
vals of two thousand years, having in it 
every form of composition, familiar and 
profound ; songs and history, ethics and 
biography, scenes from the hearth, and 
episodes from national annals; numbering, 
too, among its authors, him who wore a 
crown and him who threw a net, the Per- 
sian prime minister and Csesar's fettered 
captive; written, too — sections of it — un- 
der the shadow of the pyramids, and 
others on the banks of the Euphrates, 
some in the Isle of Patmos, and others in 
the Mamertine dungeons. This book, sO' 
lofty in its tone, and harmonious in its 
counsels, has become the more venera- 
ble from its age, and the more wonderful 
as its history and results are examined and 
understood. Whence springs its original- 
ity, if its claims are disalloyed? It tells- 
us of expeditions prior to Jason and the 
Argonauts. It discribes material advan- 
tages long before Achilles and Troy. Its 
ethical system proceded Thales and Py- 
thagoras. Its muse was vocal before 
Orpheus and Hesiod. Its judges flour- 
ished before consuls and arcbons. Its 
feasts and gatherings rejoiced the tribes 
when the Nemean games had no exis- 
tence; and it reckoned by Sabbaths ju- 
bilees when neither Olympaid nor lus- 
trum marked and divided the calendar. — 
It embodies the prophetic wish of the 
Athenian sage; for it "scatters that dark- 
ness which covers our souls, and tells us 
how to distinguish good from evil." The 
valley of the Nile has now uncovered its 
hieroglyphics to confirm and illustrate its 
claims, and Nineveh, out of the wreck 
and rubbish of three thousand years, has 
at length yielded up its ruins to prove and 
glorify the Hebrew oracles. — Inspiration, 
in Cvnjiict with Modern Philosophy. 



DESCENDANTS OF THE EMPRESS JOSE- 
PHINE. 

The announcement of the death of the 
Duchess of Leuchtenberg recalls to mem- 
ory the singular fact, that while nearly all 
the descendants occupy high stations, the 
only one of the Bonaparte family who is 
in power is also a descendant of Josephine. 
Louis Napoleon, the French President, is 
the son of Louis Bonaparte and Hortense 
Beauharnais; Josephine's daughter. The 
deceased Duchess was wife of Eugene 
Beauharnais, Josephine's only son, and 
was the mother of the present Queen of 
Sweden, the Duchess of Hohenzollem-' 
Hechingen, the former Empress of Brazil, 
widow of I) on Pedro, the late King- Con- 
sort of Portugal, and a son-in-law of the 
Emperor Nicholas. The star of fortune 
appears to shine on the fortunes of the di- 
vorced Empress. The descendants of the 
AVest Indian Creole are sitting on thrones 
in Europe, while he who disci-rded her for 
a higher ambition to perpetuate his power 
and dynasty, has one degenerate repre- 
sentative, who escapes from obscurity, 
and lie has the blood of Josephine. This 
makes a curious chapter in history. 



CLASSIC UNION 



THE HARDEST THING IN RELIGION. 

It is told of the amiable and pious Her- 
vey, that before his conversion, and while 
he was seeking and striving, as a self- 
righteous moralist, to commend himself to 
God, in one of his daily walks, absorbed 
in painful thoughts, he encountered one of 
his hearers, a pious laborer, who was up- 
turning the soil with a cheerful hymn of 
praise upon his lips, and of whom he ask- 
ed what he thought to be the hardest 
thing in religion ? Th& modest plowman 
declining to decide so intricate a question, 
Hervey further asked, " Gan anything in 
religion be harder than to deny sinful self"?'' 
"No," replied his hearer, after a moment's 
thought, "unless it be to deny righteous 
self." The answer struck the preacher 
and poet, and hidden in his heart, became 
the germ of a conviction which led him to 
a self-renouncing trust in Christ, and gave 
birth to those rapt experiences of Christian 
life to wliich the world owes the origin and 
the usefulness of the Meditations, and the 
Theron and Aspasio. 

To deny righteous self — -to empty the 
heart not only of its grosser sins, but of 
the lingering flavor of pride and self-right- 
eousness — to trust wholly and work none 
— to accept a righteousness finished with- 
out one thread of our own weaving, and a 
salvation to wliich our prayers and pains 
have contributed absolutely nothing — to 
rise so far above self as to be lost and hid 
in Christ, and to lose in the sublime sense 
of his fullness and suffering, all thought 
or hope of out own struggles — this is, as 
the good plowman supposed, one of the 
hardest and last acquisitions of the pious 
heart. To break the vase, it is said, is not 
to destroy the scent of the flowers it has 
contained. So to break the heart will not 
always and immediately disinfect it of the 
remaining odors of its native depravity. 
Like a subtle essence, it will rise unseen 
from the cleanest heart, and mingle with 
and tinge the purest thoughts, and deform 
the holiest experiences. The last trace of 
the heart's old inhabitants is its self-right- 
eousness. The "strong man armed" 
may evict, with comparative ease, the 
ruder tenants, and bar door against them 
so effectually, that nothing but the clamor 
of their rage at being expelled, can reach 
its garnished and peaceful chambers. — 
Avarice, ambition, envy, and evil purpo- 
ses, are palpable, lusty foes, that may be 
rudely seized, and hurled headlong from 
the portals of the renewed temple of God 
in the soul. But that circumambient, all 
embracing atmosphere of selfishness, in 
which they have lived, and breathed, and 
grown strong — that subtler element of evil 
which no violent assault can reach, and no 
resolute conflict destroy, lingers long, and 
yields at last only to the cleansing efficacy 
of indwelliag grace. After a man has 
attacked, and overcome, and driven out 
many a vile occupant, he still has an ever- 
recurring work to stifle his pride, and to 
destroy the complacent self-righteousness 
of his lying heart. To deny sinful self 
may be hard; but to deny righteous self is 
Terily harder. 



RUNAWAY MATCHES. 



Kate Conynham in the last American 
Courier, makes the following sensible re- 
marks about runaway matches: 

" Runaway matches seetn to be marked 
with Divine displeasure. I have never 
heard of a happy one.. Not far irom us re- 
sides a widow lady, who eloped from an ex- 
cellent mother when she was young, with 
a worthless young man. She is now the 
mother of three grown daughters, every 
one of which have eloped and left her, the 
youngest only last June, at fifteen years of 
age, and she was left desolate and broken- 
hearted ! Thus is the example-of the motli- 
er followed b}' the children; -and w^hp can 
she blame but hersell? But the worst re- 
mains to be told. The eldest has already 
been deserted by her husband, who has 
gone to California, and last week she had 
to seek a shelter in the home of her child- 
hood; the second daughter is suing for a 
divorce, though she has not been thirteen 
months married. Ah, girls ! never in an 
evil hour place your hand in that of a 
young man who would counsel yoU' to 
leave your parental home !" it is cruel to 
deprive those who have nourished j'ou, and 
with sweet hope looked forward to the day 
of j'Our marriage beneath their own roof : 
it is cruel to rob them of this happiness. 
It is their blessed privilege to bless your 
union, and witness your and 3'our hus- 
band's joy. How can you then rob them 
of their participation in that joyous bridal 
towards which they have been so man}- 
years looking forward ? Daughters who 
elope wrest from their parents that joy of a 
father's and mother's life — the gratification 
of seeing their daughter married at their 
ownfircside. A bridal elsewhere is un- 
natural and God's blessing will not follow 
it." 



Man 13 SOT dorn for the sake of Him- 
self ALONE. — Man is not born for the sake 
of himself, but for the sake of others, that 
is, not to live for himself alone, but for 
others; or else no society could be kept to- 
gether, nor could any good exist in it. It 
is a common saying that every man's near- 
est neighbour is himself; but the doctrine 
of charity teaches in what sense this say- 
ing is to be understood. Every one is 
bound to provide himself with the necessa- 
ries of life, as foo.l, raiment, a house to 
dwell in, and several other things, which 
the wants of civil life and his particular 
calling require: he is further hound to pro- 
vide such things, not only for him.self, but 
also for his family; and. not only for the 
time present, but also for the time to come; 
for otherwise being in want of all things, 
he could be in no state or capacity of exer- 
cising charity. But in what sense a man 
ought to regard himself as his nearest 
neighbor, may appear from the following 
similar cases. 'Every man ought to pro- 
vide conveni.!nt food and raijnent for his 
body; this must be the first object of his 
care; but the end in view must be to make 
his body a fit instrument for the operations 
of his mind : every one ought also to pro- 
vide necessaries for his mind, to wit, all 
such things as may tend to advance it in in- 



telligence and judgment; but the end in 
view must be, that he may be in a state to 
serve his fellow-citizens, his countiy, the 
church, and thus the Lord. When a man 
acts thus, he pro\'ides for his own weU'are 
to eternity. Hence it appears, what is 
first in respect to time, and what is first in 
respect to end; and that the object which is 
first in respect to end, is that to which all 
intermediate objects have reference. This 
case may admit of comparison with that 
of a man who builds a house; his first bus- 
iness is to la)' the foundation; but the foun- 
dation is laid for the sake of the house; 
and the house is built for the sak<; of a 
place to dwell in. "\^^hen a man regards 
himself as his nearest neighbor, and 
makes all his attention centre in himself, 
as the principle end and object of his con- 
cern, he is like a man who regards the 
foundation of his house as the chief end, 
and not the house itself as a place of 
abode; whereas ,a eon^■enient place of 
abode is the first and ultimate end, and 
the house with its foundation is only a me- 
dium to promote that end. 

AN ACCOMMODATING JUDGE. 

The Southern Standard, published in 
Columbus, Miss.; gives the following from 
one of its correspondents: 

A certain cause having been Cidled up 
by Judge Rogers, the clerk was unabk; to 
produce the papers forming the record of 
it, and endeavored to excuse' himself by 

stating, that a Mr. D , a member 01 

the bar; had taken them out of his office. 
This being regarded by the court as no 
excuse at all, the frightened officer, was 
fined one hundred dollars for 'his negli- 
gent dereliction of duty. Another cause 
was called and the business of the court 
went on as if notliing had happened, tili 
suddenly, in the after part of the day, tht; 
Judge was unexpectedly compelled to 
leave the bench for a few momen s, and 
accidentally happened to hit upon the 
identiccl lawyer who had uniu:tntia]iy 
got the clerk in the awkward scrape of be- 
ing fined, to take his seat during his ab- 
sence. And as soon as the newly en- 
sconced dignitary had taken the bench, 
the disconsolate clerk, turning round to- 
ward his Honor, very politely begged to 
know what disposition was to be madje of 
that case in which he himself was a par- 
ty, namely, the hundred dollar fine. The 
court very promptly, and in great humor, 
ordered the eloquent-looking clerk to re- 
mit the fine insianier ! 



Christian Liberality. — There are cer- 
tain great principles laid down in Scrip- 
ture in relation to giving, and the use of 
property generally, respecting which there 
is much practical skepticism". They are 
as follows: 

1 . 'I'hat wliich we have, we hold as 
stewards that must give an account. 

2. The way to increase, is to distribute. 
Some ore rich because liberal. 

3. That which is given to the poor is 
loaned to the Lord. 

4. That which is done to Christ's hitle 
ones is done to himself. — Dr. Nevins. 



24 



CLASSIC UNION. 



ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN. 

First, Ilahits of luxurious ease and self - 
indaljcnrc a.r<i among; the obstacles to man- 
ly virtue. We always pity those youth 
whose birth .and circumstances expose 
them to be waited on and relieved from 
every exertion, and guarded against every 
inconvenience. The love of ease is inhe- 
rent in most persons, and vrhc'n it is en- 
couraged and nursed until it becomes a 
necessity, it is a grave misfortune. , Effem- 
inate, luxurious, ease-loving young men 
are hopeful subjects for vice. They lack 
the mivniy force and firmness necessary to 
resist temptation. They dread inconven- 
ience and discomfort more than they do 
.sin. We can hardly conceive of firmness 
of character, stern, unyielding principle, 
existing, in a soft, yielding body. 

Let young people beware of forming 
such habits. Do not bo afraid or ashamed 
of hardships. Wait on yourselves. — 
Black your own boots, brush your own 
clothes; do not be, afraid of a little cold or 
heat — of a hard bed, of plain fare, or of 
hard work. Strive to harden your body, 
and make ittirm,, strong and healthy. In 
such a body manly virtue has a chance to 
grow, as the.steam engine works best when 
it has a solid frame work to support it. 

I am afraid habits of self-indulgence and 
love of ease are but too common with the 
young of both sexes, many of whom are 
willing to be relieved of every exertion and- 
inconvenience at the expense of patient 
aunts, or whoever happens to be at hand. 
You see it in little things. For instance. if 
there is but one easy arm or rocking chair 
in the room, you will see it occupied in 
many families, not by the father or mother 
but b}- the son or daughter. 

But, not to mention examples, let me 
conclude this head by observing that not 
only do all habits of self indulgence serve 
as a hot-bed for vicious principles, but they 
expose to much suffering hi after life, if 
poverty and want happen to call for expos^ 
ure and self-denial. No matter if a young 
man is heir to millions, he had better be 
his own servant, practice self-denial, and 
endure hardship in a degree, both because 
it will be favorable to his intellect and mor- 
iils, and will fit him to bear without break- 
lEg, the reverses of after life. 

Indolent habits are earnestly to be dep- 
recated by all young men who would ever 
come to any good and useful end. This is 
nearly allied to the subject just spoken of, 
and yet there is a difference which all can 
understand. God never sent us into this 
world to do nothing but sleep and dream 
and yawn. Every young man should feel 
this, and endeavor to lind out the particular 
end to which his powers are adapted, and 
then go at it might and main. Idle habits 
grow on us rapidly if they are allowed to 
gain a foothold, and they have a two-fold 
effect; in the first place, indisposing us 
more and more to earnest, wide-awake ac- 
tion, and in the second, consuming a great 
amounl of precious time which can never 
afterwards be recalled. There are mo- 
ments when the most active and ccmscien- 
tious feel this spirit of indolence creeping 
over them, but they shake it off and re- 



fuse to listen to its whisper. So should 
every young man do at all times, and res- 
olutely apply himself .afresh to his duties, 
and thus resisting it, he will find that like 
other bad .spirits it will fly away. 

The habit of jjivcrastiyiation is another 
enemy to improvement. In some men it 
negatives all their good. They are resolv- 
ing, re-resolving, yet doing the same. We 
may be sure this is a very bad and mis- 
chievous habit, from the fact that the Bible 
so often and so earnestly remonstrates 
against it. Many a fine young man falls, 
into it, and wastes his life and faculties in 
intending to do what he never finds an op- 
portunity to do. This is melancholy and 
criminal too. The ch-cumstances of the 
world and the will of Providence call upon 
all 3'oung men to be minute men, with 
their banner inscribed with the ^one word 
" No.w."' There is much force in the re- 
mark of an old divine,, that hell is paved 
with good intentions. 



AMIABILITY. 



What a world of pleasure might this 
fair earth be, if ail its inhabitants,- from 
the monarch to the peasant, were blest 
with that best and most God-like virtue, 
amiability. True, the primeval curse 
would be on our race, thorns and thistles 
would still spi'ing up, by the sweat of the 
brow men would have to earn their bread, 
but amid the toil and wearisomness of this 
pilgrimage, flowers would spring up and 
spread around his path; nature would put 
on a different garb, what appears now dark 
and threatening, ivould smile with the 
lightfrom God's own throne. The httle 
errings which we in our present nature 
cannot possibly avoid, would be overlook- 
ed and forgotten; the harsh word would no 
longer- break harshly upon the ear; the 
cold averted look would assume tJie smile 
of generosity and affection; the distrustful 
glance would be thrown aside, and the 
confidence of brothers would be found in- 
stead. — We should not murmur at fate, 
but acknowledge all the dispensations of 
Heaven v/ith a cheerful heart. Love would 
spring up where hatred and malice now 
breathe their deadly and fetid breath. — 
Envy, the tyrant of the heart, would give 
place to joy at another's success, the faults 
of our felloT/ beings would be judged, not 
with uncharitable and unjust reasoning, 
but with mercy and forgiveness. Wc 
should, in short, behold ourselves " as oth- 
ers see us," and many a wretch who has 
plunged into the gulf of endless and irre- 
U'icvable perdition, would have been now 
shining in the " Mansions of the Blessed." 



^^ The attendant of Matthews in his 
illness intended to give his patient some 
medicine; but a few moments afterwards it 
was discovered that the medicine was no- 
thing but ink, which had been taken from 
the phial by mistake, and his friend ex- 
claimed: "Matthews, I have given you 
ink!" "Never, mind, my boy — never 
mind," said Matthews, faintly, " I'll swal- 
lov,' a bit of blotting paper." 



DR. CAREY'S EARLY STRUGGLES. 

Carey was a journeyman shoeiriaker, in 
the small hamlet of Hackleton, a few miles 
from Northampton and when, as "consec- 
rated cobbler," (the term of reproach ap- 
plied to him by Sidney Smith, in sneering 
at his missionary efforts,) he removed to 
the neighboring village of Moulton, it was 
to preach to a small congregation of Bap- 
tists, for a salary under .£20 a year, and 
to teach a school besides, that he mights 
eke out a scanty livelihood. To Sidney 
Smith, as to nine-tenths of the British pop- 
ulation at that time, it looked ridiculous 
enough that such a man should not only 
trouble his own mind, and try for years to 
trouble. the minds of otheis about the con- 
version of 420,000,000 of pagans; but 
that he should actually propose that he 
himself should be sent out to execute the 
project. He succeeded at last, however, 
in obtaining liberty to bring the subject be- 
fore a small religious community, of which 
he was a member, on the 2d of October, 
1.792, at a meeting of the Baptist Associ- 
ation at Kettering, it was i-esolved to form 
a missionary society; but when the sermon 
was preached and the collection made, it 
was found to amount to no more than 
£12 13s 6d. With such agents as Carey, 
and collections like this of Kettering to 
support them Indian missions appeared a 
fit quarry for that shaft, which none knew 
better than our Edinburgh reviewer how to 
use; and yet, looking somewhat more nar- 
rowly at the 'consecrated cobbler,' there 
was something about him, even at the be- 
ginning, sufficient to disarm ridicule; for if 
we notice him in his little garden, he will 
be seen motionless for an hour or more, in 
the attitude of intense thought; or if we 
join hiiji in his evening hours, we shall find 
him reading the Bible, in one or other of 
four different languages, with which he 
has already made himself familiar; or if we 
follow him into his school, we shall discover 
him with a large leather map showing the 
urchins different kingdoms of the earth, 
saying. "These are Christians, these are 
Mohammedans, and these are pagans !" 
his voice stopped by strong emotion as he 
re-repeats the last mournful utterance. — 
Carey sailed to Jndia in 1793. Driven by 
the jealousy of the East India Company 
out of an English ship, in which he was 
about to sail, he took his passage in a Dan- 
ish, vessel, and chose a Danish settlement 
in India for his residence: yet he lived till 
from that press which he established at 
Seramporer' there had issued 212,000 cop- 
ies of the sacred Scriptures in forty differ- 
ent languages — the vernacular tongties of 
330,000,000, immortal beings, of whom 
more than 100,000,000 were British sub- 
jects, and till he had seen expended upon 
that noble object, on behalf of which the 
first small offering at Kettering was pres- 
ented, no lessa sum than £91,500 — Dr. 
IJcti.na. 



A man should never put a fence of words 
around his ideas, because many who would 
othenvise give him a fair hearing lack re- 
solution to climb over such a rugged -en* 
closure. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



®I}C € I as sic Union 



"Nisi domiuus, fnistra." 



M. HILLSilAN, 

AND THE FACULTY OF UXIOX BN'I VERSITY , 

Editors and Proprietors. 



OGTOB:fiR 1, 1861. 



The presfint number, of oar paper Jias 
been delayed beyond the lime specified in 
our last. This is owing to the necessary 
absence of the principal editor, and the un- 
usual occupation of the assistant editors at 
the commencement of the session of the 
University. We intend hereafter to be 
punctual in our issues. 



The principal editor of this paper. Rev. 
M. Hillsman, has taken a trip, into East 
Tennessee. He expects to be absent some 
four or five weeks. We feel confident 
those who become acquainted with him, 
will desire to take and read the Classic 
Union. 



THE TENNESSEE BAPTIST FEMALE 
INSTITUTE. 

The first session of this Institution has 
opened with very flattering prospects. — 
Its success has thus far surpassed the 
most sanguine expectations of its friends, 
and the number of pupils is daily increas- 
ing. Mrs. Eaton has secured as teachers, 
some of the most talented and accom- 
plished ladies of the country. Nothing is 
now wanting but a suitable edifice in or- 
der to have a female school that will be 
as much the ornament and pride of the 
denomination as the University now is, 
and such a building will be speedily sup- 
plied. The school will be taught in the 
Baptist Church till the building is com- 
pleted. 



Revival. — During a Campmeeting just 
closed at Bradley's Creek Church, forty- 
six professed faith in Christ, forty-eight 
united with the Church, thirty-six of 
whom, on last Sabbath, I buried with 
Christ in the liquid grave by baptisin. — 
There are others to be baptised next meet- 
ing. D. H. S. 



Those of our friends who hold pros- 
pectuses of the Classic Union, vnW please 
return them by the 10th October, as af- 
ter that time a limited number of copies 
only will be printed. 



Our thanks are due to numbers of our 
friends for the interest they manifest for 
the success of the Classic Union. Our 
list is daily increasing. 



DUCK RIVEK ASSOCIATION. 

We attended tire last session of the 
Duck River Association, held with the 
Church at Enon, Bedford county. This 
is a large and influential body of active 
and efficient christians. God has, duiing 
the past year, blessed many of their 
churches ty the outpouring of his spirit. 
The business was all transacted with great 
harmony and unanimity. . ' Our beloved 
Brother, Rev. John Rushing, was elected 
Moderator. He "has long been a zealous 
and siiccessful herald of salvation, and we 
pray that God may spare his valuable life 
and continue his usefulness for many years 
to come. All the ministers connected with 
this Association are laborious workjng men, 
actively engaged in the cause of their Re- 
deemer. The Association unanimously 
agreed to support a beneficiary at Union 
Universitj-, and from the spirit manifested 
on the occasion, we doubt not they would 
readily have pledged themselves for the 
support of more, if there bad been others 
within their bounds desirous of entering 
upon preparation for the work of the gospel 
ministry. We regard this aspre^eminent- 
ly ike work of Christian benevolence for 
our times. In no other way can more last- 
ing good be efl^ected' than in assisting 
young men of decided picCy and talents in 
obtaining that thorough development of 
all their faculties which will enable them 
to meet the demands of the . Church as 
Christian ministers. We would call the 
attention of those who are desirous to do 
good and promote the cause of Christ in 
this world, with a portion of the means 
which God has placed in their hands, to 
tbis important object. It is true you may 
not be able to see immediately the results 
of your efibrts, but you will assist in crea- 
ting a salient fountian of hallowed influence 
that will send out its healitig waters to 
make glad the city of our God. E. 



UNION UNIVERSITY. 
The present session of this Institution 
opened under very favoi-ablc auspices. A 
larger ntimber of new students has en- 
tered than at any previous session, and 
others are daily arriving. 



Do.VATIOKS TO TBE LiDE.UlT OF UxiON U.MVETSITT. 

Scott's Life of Napoleon,) , m n ^ 

Sydney on Government.^ ^^ ,,^■,9^'^":, 
Baptists of Alabama, ) Moulton, Ala. 

Scottish Gael, i ^^ Jas. Armstrong 

\ Moulton, Ala. 

D'Aubigno's History of ' 
the Reformation, 



by T. 0. Sale. 



Some bigots would rather hear a man 
condemn religion altogether — than to 
speak harshly of their own particular sects. 



INDIVIDUAL RESPONSIBILITY. 

There is a poor forlorn being- who is 
wandering to and fro in this busy world 
with whom no one is willing to claim any 
relationship or connection. All, with few 
exceptions, shun binx as though spotted 
with the plague, yet every person main- 
tains that this forsaken being is connected 
withnearly every other individual except 
himself, and- that others ought to take 
care aud attend to him;. ' Who is this poor 
shuned wanderer with whom none, wish 
to claim alliance ? It is Individual Re- 
sponsibility. 

How prone are we all to shift responsi- 
bility from our own shoulders upon those 
of our neighbors. We are clear-sighted 
enough to see what things ought to be 
done, and think that we understand per- 
fectly who are J,h« person-s that ought to 
do them.. We are. ready at all times to 
say such and such things ought to be per- 
forrbed — it is a shame and .sin that they 
are not done, but it is not .my duty to do 
them— that belongs to this neighbor or 
that neighber. Now would it not be bet- 
ter if we-should examine more carefully 
and minutely what we oitrselves ought to 
do, and- not devote so much time and labor 
to find out what is the duty of others? 
Are Tve free from any responsibihty ? — 
And if we can see so clearly what is the 
duty of others, is not our duty to tell them 
of it ? It may be that they are ignorant 
of the obligation resting iipon them, and 
if they were kindly informed of their duty 
they would cheerfully perform it. At 
least, it would take no more time or words 
to do this than it does" to tell a dozen oth- 
ers that such and such ilidividuals ought to 
do many things which the3^ neglect. 

■ ' E. 

MERIDIAN^JLLE (ALA.) FEMALE SEMI- 
NARY. 
We have seen in the Huntsville Demo- 
crat a very favorable report of the Ex- 
amination of the Meridianville Female 
Seminary. This young flourishing Insti- 
tution is under the care of Rev. P. T. 
Henderson, assisted by his brother, Jas. 
S. Henderson and Miss Strother. We' 
wish them abundant success in rearing up 
a female school of high order. We are 
well acqu-ainted with Br. Henderson, and 
w-ith his mode of imparting instruction to 
the youth fid. mind, and we liave no hesitan- 
cy in commending his Seminary to all who 
wish their daughters well insti-ucled in the 
various branches of a thorough education. 

There are two difliculties in life; men 
are disposed to spend more than they can 
afford, and to indulge more than thev can 
endure. 



20 



CLASSIC UNION. 



NASHVILLE AND CHATTANOOGA 
RAIL ROAD. 



SUNDAY ABEANGEMJE KT. 

APASSEN'C4ER TRAIXaviU' Leave Sashville 
every SUNDAY MORNIXG at a quarter 
after 8 o'clock, A. JI., for'the Terminus of the 
Track, arriving at Murfreesborough at lialfpast 
10 o'clock — proceed to the end of* Tra-ck, and 
return to Murfreesborough by 12 o'clock. 

Leave Murfreesborough at half-gast 1 o'clock, 
P. M.. and arrive at Nashville at a quarter of 4 
o'clock, P. -M. — stopping at all intermediate 
points, going and returning. 

■The regular Passenger Train -will leave Hur- 
freesborough as on other days, at 8- o'clsek, 'A. 
M., for NashvrUe — returning, leave ]S"asl}vill€ art 
4 o'clock, P. M. 

H. I ANDERSON", 

sep6 Superintendent of Transportation. 

We liavB taken- the above adfertisemeht 
from one af our city papers, and we have 
seen the same in several other pej-iodicals. 
Now we ask in all candor wkat is the dif- 
ference between this, desecration of the 
Lord's day, by running the cai-s avowedly 
and for no other purpose tlian idle amuse- 
ment and sordid gainj and theatrical per- 
formances and horse racing on the Sab- 
bath ? - One is no more a violation of . the. 
express command of God than -the other, 
yet -how would an advertisement strike a 
religious commiinity which- should be 
headed by'Sunday Amuseraeniis for horse 
racing. We utter nothing, more than our 
true sentiments when we affirm that we 
would a thousand times' prefer traveling 
the old way from place to place than to 
have the modern improvements of rail- 
roads, if along with them we must have 
practices calculated to bkmt the meral 
sense of the community in regaj-d to the 
observance of the .fourth commandment. 
Is this desecration of the Sabbath in ac- 
cordance with the feelings and sentiments 
of a majority of the stockholders ? Wc 
cannot believe that it is. This step which 
has been taken, in Tunning an extra Sun- 
day train,' is what Sabbath breakers every- 
where, and the enemies of Christianity and 
good order,' will approve arid applaud. — 
We are unable to see any necessity for 
this outrage upon the moral and religious 
feelings of the community. We believe 
there is a just and holy God who takes 
cognizance of the acts of his creatures, 
and he will not prosper those vA6 set at 
defiance his commands. E. 



THE INNER LIFE OF MAN. 

There is an outer, and there is .an inner 
world. The outer, is that which is exte- 
rior to man, and in which he lives and acts. 
The inner is that which is within his own 
soul, and in which he thipks and desires 
and loves. The internal, though imper- 
ceptible to sense, is no less real than the 
external world. The. one, equally with 
the other, has its poetry, its beauty, its 
melody. The charm of thoughts and de- 
sires; is no less real than the charm of 
things and facts. 

Indeed the outer world is but a reflected 
image of the world witliin. Its poetry 
and beauty' and melody do not live in its 
stars and clouds and mountains and vales, 
they live in the fieai-t of man. Let the 
inner world be filled with the melody of 
pleasant thoughts and the outer, with its 
thousand tongues, reverberates the strain. 
But change this melody to notes of sad- 
ness and the sighing of the softest breeze 
will murmur back the moan. Make a 
mind, and that mind will make a universe 
in its own image and after its own likeness. 
The imagination, darting, from object to 
object, and governed in its flight by laws 
too delicate to be analyzed, breathes into 
the outer world the breath of Us own life, 
and clothes it in a drapery, which has. no. 
existence but in the heart that feels it. As 
the rainbow clothes with its own celestial 
hues, the shapeless cloud on which it 
seems to rest, so the heart of man, ever 
cliang-ing in the color of its emotions — 
radiant with joy or enshrouded in gloom^ — 
brightening with hope or dark with des- 
pair — faltering or flickering or trembling 
or fading — returning or resting or glowing 
or daggling with celestial radiance — paints 
its own image on the sky, and in its ever- 
varying phases of feeling, flings back 
upon the world the picture of itself. 

S. 



Cold bathing, pure water plain diet, a 
clear conscience, and a clean shirt, are in- 
dispensable to health and happiness. 

To enjoy to-day, stop worrying about 
to-morrow. Kext week will be just as ca- 
pable of taking care of itself ss this one 
is. And why should'nt it ! It will bave 
seven davs more experience. 



"What do you think of platcnic love?" 
asked a lady. The gentleman repUed — 
"Madam, it is like all other tonics — very 
exciting.' ' 

He who does good to another man, does 
good also to himself, not only in the con- 
sequence, but in the very act of doing it, for 
the conscience of -(veil doing is an ample 
reward. 



"There were giants in those days!" is 
the constant greeting reformers meet, 
on every hand, from the old. Forty or 
fifty years ago, men were much stronger, 
it is said, than now, yet -a recent compar- 
ison shows we. have many, not only equal 
to the best men half a century ago, but 
fully competing with the athlets of Greece 
and Rome^nay, from careful computa- 
tion, men hve longer -and enjoy better 
health than ever at any future period ! 
, When the cars canter from her to Nash- 
ville at the rate of 20 miles an hour, old 
grey-haired veterans shake 'their heads — 
prophesy evil, and long for "the good 
dirt roads of old!" Instead of an hour an 
a half, the time then was a day and a 
half, — over rocks, mud, creeks, and riv- 
ers, in "the good old times !" 

In the eye of some the "old field" 
school has never had its equal. For the 
teacher to be at his post as the sun peeped 
over the hill tops in the east until his ex- 
it in the west, write a fair hand, use a 
keen hickory, and cipher to the Rule of 
Three, was evidence of a learned man 
and accomplished teacher! But his day 
has passed away; he now can sit at the 
feet of children and learn. D. 



To keep preserves, apply the white of an 
egg with a suitable brush to a single thick- 
ness of white tissue paper, with which cov- 
er the jars, overlaying the edges an inch 
or two. No tying is required. The 
whole will become, when dry, as tight as 
a drum. — CvUivator. 



CIVIL ENGINEERING. 

The various roads — pikes, railroads, 
and other improvements in our State, are 
awaking the public mind to ftife impor- 
tance of Civil Engineering. Until the 
Mexican war, West Point and other Mil- 
itary and Scientific schools were decidedly 
under the ban of the publio.- It was not 
and 2s not in the nature of things — ceteris 
paribus — for science not to triumph over 
ignorance. Such, indeed, has been the 
call for good engirteers, that they obtain 
from $ 1000 to tSOOO readily — and the sup- 
ply is still deficient. Why should not in- 
dividuals as well as corporations employ 
professional skill to secure property phys- 
ically as well as legally? 'Incompatibles,' 
to use a medical phrase, would not so of- 
ten be introduced into private dwellings; 
churches, school and other public houses 
would not be so often tumbling down, or 
from deficient ventilation, the hot liouses 
of disease and death. 

In view of these facts, provision has 
been made by the Trustees of Union Uni- 
vetsityfor teaching Civil Engineering in 
this Institution. D. 



He that will sell his fame will also sell 
the public interest. 



CLASSIC UNION 



27 



THE LOVE OF THE ANTIQUE. 

Veneration for Antiquity is "the pre- 
dominant feature of the sj'stercjjof religion, 
promulged from the Universitj' of Oxford, 
and known by the popular name of Pusey- 
ism. Around the walls of the ancient 
seat of learning there floats a solemn 
aroma of the past. Its antiquated style 
of architecture, its -vralls decorated with 
the ornaments of former centuries, its 
Professors attired in flowing robes of silk, 
its libraries hoarded with tomes of Patris- 
tic lore, venerable with the rust of ages — 
all seem to throw around it an air of ven- 
eration for the Antique. When one walks 
through its halls he feels that he is breath- 
ing the atmosphere of the Past. 

Upon Antiquity, venerable Antiquity, 
the Tractarians delight to lavish their 
rhetoric. Examine their writings, and 
when are they most eloquent ? What is 
their theme ? Is it the love of Christ, or 
the excellence of his mediation? Seldom 
do such themes engage their pens. An- 
tiquity: on this they kindle ■ and glow 
with the fires of eloquence. Hear one of 
their popular preachers: Hush through 
the applauding crowd and listen. With 
what an array of eloquence does he usher 
in — is it the son of God? No, alas! It 
is some eremite of the wilderness, pale, 
meager, miserable, who, having forsaken 
the abode of men and become the compan- 
ion of wild beasts, in rocks and caves of 
the earth, is held up for us to admire and 
imitate. Antiquity with them seems to 
throw a halo of glory aroimd men and 
things, which under other circumstances 
they would despise. The nonsense of one 
generation, when covered with the "hoar 
of ages , " becomes the wisdom of 
another. Such is their veneration for 
antiquity that even the penances, pilgri- ' 
mages, asceticism, and degrading super- 
stition of the middle ages are held up for 
our ardent admiration. And this is na- 
tural. Secluded, as they are, from the 
busy world, and cut off from the charms 
of social hfe, amidst the quiet cloisters of 
Oxford, it is natural that its learned Doc- 
tors should love to wander up and down 
the dim and shadowy past and linger 
around the monuments of the sainted 
dead. 

There is something poetic and pictu- 
resque in those phases of medieval char- 
ac'er which fancy loves to dwell upon: 
and if one will surrender his reason and 
commonsense, as thousands of the ardent 
and imaginative are doing, he may see 
much in the middle ages to please his fancy; 



and, abandoning himself to these delicious 
musings on the faded glory of medieval 
excellence, he may wish that these poetic 
dreams might again be realized. T love 
the rcmance of the middle ages, and if it 
could be separated from the evils which 
attend it, I am sometimes half inclined to 
be almost willing to wish that I had been 
born in an age in which the world enjoyed 
a little more of it than" it -now does, I 
pity the man who is so unimaginative that 
he cannot admire the i^omance and chiv- 
alry of the middle ages: but I ought to 
pity him the more whose imagination 
leads him to see only the ideal, and not 
the real; and I do pity Mm who would 
bring back the ignorance, and superstition, 
and priest-craft, merely for the sake of en- 
joying the romance. The losdly barron 
may admire the moss-clad ruins on his 
domain, which mark the gothic towers of 
his feudal ancestors, he .may delight to 
muse upon the days of chivalry which tliey 
commemorate, but he would by no means 
wish for the restoration o-f the feudal 
vassalage of which they are the memo- 
rial. S. 



A PEARL IS THE OCEAN. 

Few men are so depraved, that there is 
nothing amiable in their character, though 
blotted with the dark pencil of corruption, 
yetsomething of tl.e fair and good exists 
in almost every heart. How often beneath 
the repulsive mantle of a shattered for- 
tune and a blasted fame, burned in dis- 
grace and crushed by an unfeeling- world, 
lies a bleeding heart, miserable at once 
from a sense of guilt and abandonment, 
yet not wholly dead to virtue. Many a 
lovel}' flower, may shed its fragrance 
through the desert of the heart. Descend 
into that interior world, away from the din 
of earth, and in the stillness of solitude, 
listen to its musings, and 3-ou may hear the 
plaintive tones which breathe a tale of 
fond and melancholy recollections of 
brightening and fading hopes, uttered in 
stifled sighs, and anguished prayers. It is 
the sighing of a down-trodden and bur- 
ned heart, for the light of Heaven and 
sympathy of rnan. Philanthropist ! lift 
that heart from the grave in which it lies 
entombed, restore it to life, bind together 
its broken fibres and 'you will find it still 
a heart possessed of much of human love- 
liness. • Touch its strings with j-our sym- 
pathy and you will awake a tone of melo- 
dy, which before lay slumbering among its 
unstrung cords, unheard and unknown, 
save to the heart that breathed it. 

S. 



TO-BE AND TO DO. 

Perhaps no two terms in the English 
language have a wider signification than 
" To Be and to Do." Whether we scru- 
tinize their literal meaning, giving each its 
minutest shade of application, or examine 
their common acceptation, we find the 
same difference. 

When we look at the idea conveyed by 
tbeformer we are reminded of whatever 
that tends to excite the vanity of the hu- 
man heart — of whatever that tends to 
foster pride, — of whatever that tends to 
generate envy, and in fine of whatever 
that tends to debase and degrade man- 
kind. But on the other hand, the latter 
reminds us of the great doctrines of char- 
ity and especially the Heavenly injunction, 
'"thou shaltlqve thy neighbor as thyself, 
and all things "whatsoever ye would that 
men should do tinto you, do ye even so 
unto them." 

How often is it the case, that we hear 
devoted and well-meaning but misguided 
parents endeavor to excite the languid 
spirits of their children by admonishing 
them of the unfading laurels of Alexan- 
der, Lord Byron, Napoleon or-many he- 
roes of our own country, telling them that 
many an extraordinary personage once 
struggled against pinching poverty, over- 
came almost insurmountable barriers and 
inscribed his name high upon the tablet of 
fame ? Why not tell them of the merito- 
rious deeds of St. Paul, Martin Luther, 
Howard or Wilberforce and exhort them 
not be as others have been, but do as 
otliei's have done ? 

It is not because we hghtly esteem the 
well-earned fame of any one, but the prin- 
ciple we deprecate is that the youthful 
mind should be aroused to exertion by 
painting upon the imagination in vivid 
colors the undying renown of some distin- 
guished hero. Surely it is very important 
that the adviser of the young should be 
informed of the fact,, that it is a sin in the 
sight of high Heaven to arouse and culti- 
vate those principles of our nature, which 
lead us to make gain for ourselves to the 
entire neglect or injury of Our fellow- be- 
ings. The inherent turpitude of our 
species will develope itself sufficiently soon 
and needs no inciting influence on the part 
of others. 

Our great object should be to profit and 
bless mankind, and when on our dying 
pillow to feel assured that the world has 
been benefited by our existence. We 
should study to do (jreat not to be ffreat. 

J. 



28 



CLASSIC UNIO: 



A TE-EATISE 
Oil the History of Etiology and Propliylaxis of 
Trismus Nascentium, by Professor J. M. Wat- 
son; M. D. 

We have just receiyed a neat jjamphlet 
bearing the above title which we would 
cordially commend to the perusal of all 
who can obtain it. The substance of the 
treatise was published in Nos. in the 
Nashville Medical Journal, but the arti- 
cles were thought by the Medical F-acultj 
to possess so much merit, and to thr-ow 
such important light on a hitherto obscure 
subject, that they prevailed on Dr. Wat- 
son to arrange them in a treatise to be 
published in pamphlet form, that they 
might be presented as a whole to the public. 
The pamphlet before us is the result, and 
we doubt not but that it will be highly 
useful in preventing a disease for which 
medical skill has hitherto failed to find a 
remedy. 

Since writing the above we find the fol- 
lowing notice in the Nashville American: 

Tlie subject discussed in these pages, we pre- 
sume, must be an exceedingly interesfiug onffto 
tlie profession generally, and e.^pecially so to 
those whose province it is ta attend more.esclm- 
sively to the duties of Obstetrician. It is Dot 3, 
little remai'kable, that a disease, presenting such 
a trainof fearful and distressing symptoms, so 
heart-rending to the mother, at the period too of 
ii?,ture's greatest weakness, and so fatal in its' re- 
sults shoul d not have received that careful at- 
tention and investigation from medica.1 writers 
which its importance so justly merits. 

We think Dr. Watson has given due credit to 
.all those writers who have heretoi'ore written on 
this subject, wlieh he -says, "All tlJa't has 'been 
published about, this fatal .malady, is, for the 
most part, well calculated to emhairass and dis- 
appoint the reader — leaving him uninfoimed of 
its history; in doubt about its etiology, and un- 
instructed in aTcliahle prophylaxis;" and pass- 
ing over the consideration of the sevei-al unsat- 
isfactory, and i» some instances fanci/ullheocies, 
advanced by different writers, to explain the 
symptoms of the disease, we are very favorably 
impressed with the plain and pfactical-comiEon 
sense views of its etiology and pathotegy , and 
the prophylactes suggestions- advanced by the 
writer, based, as all such view.s and suggestions 
.should be, upon long experience, careful obsei'- 
vatioii of tlie phenomena, a candid comparison of 
his own with the facts and observations presen- 
ted by other writers, and a Tigid and impartial' 
deduction under all the circumstances and facts 
bearing upon the subject. We think every can- 
did and impartial reader will award to Dii Wat- 
son due credit for tlie soundness and Originality 
of his views upon thi's interesting subject, and 
the valua.ble hints and sugg£stiorIs in propliylax- 
is, which certainly ought to" be -made fajuiliar to 
every nurse and mother. It is desirable that the 
head of every family should read this little treat- 
ise; especially that the proprietors of large plan-' 
tations should be well acquainted with the 
prominent facts sot forth, and be prepared to en- 
force all the necessary prophylactic observances 
upon those having charge of the child-bearing 
women and their j'oung children. 



We regard this production of Dr. Watson's as 
an evidence of his ripe experience as a,n obstet- 
ric practitioner, and a prestige of his ability and 
reputation as a lecturer and teacher in the chair 
which he has the honor to fill. 



^SUMMARY. 

The Rose. — The horticulturists of Paris have, 
hj artificial crossings, obtained a natural rose 
of a blue color, -n'hich is the fourth color ob- 
tainod-by artificial means — the yellow, the black, 
and the .striped rose, being all inventions, and 
the result of skillful scientific gardening. 

Patriotic. — A Western man says when he 
heard Yankee Doodle performed on an organ, in 
the Crystal Palace, he felt the Declaration of 
Independence and a couple of Bunker Hills ris- 
ing in his bosom. 

CuK^rL■DGEO^". — This word, which is very ex- 
pressive, is composed of two words, cceur, heart, 
and mediant, miserly, avaricious. Hence cur- 
mudgeon — a iniserly, ' churlish, avaricious fel- 
low. 

Singular Theft. — Some person broke into the 
Temperance Office, in M"ew York, and stole a 
thousand Temperance Tracts. It is hoped that 
he will give them a wide circulation. 

Largest FlcTwee ix the World. — There is a 
plant in the island of Lumatra, the circumfer- 
ence of whose fully expanded floweris nine feet; 
its nectarium is calculated to- hold nine pints; 
the .pistils are as large as a cow's horn, and the 
whole weight of the blossom is computed to be 
fifteen-pounds. 

• Facts for the Thoughtful. — The whole num- 
ber, of persons-convicted of- crime_in the State 
of New York, from 1840 to lS48,.uiclusive, was 
27,9-19. Of these 1,182 were returned as having 
recei-ved a common education, 414 as having a. 
tolerably good education,- and 123 only as well 
educate^. Of the remaining 26,225, about -half 
were able merely to read and write; the residue 
were' destitute of any education whatever. . 

■PHOTOGEAPm-. — -This wonder of modern times 
is just becoming a step more wonderful.' It is 
beginning in good eiai'hest to make pictures of all 
colors. This new advance was gained by our 
countryman, Mr. Hill, and it appears, by the 
last an'ival, that the same, or a similar discove- 
ly, has been made by a citizen of Franco, named 
ISTiepee. The American calls his art Hillotype, 
the Frenchman gives'liis a betteriiame — He lio- 
chromy— - sun eoloriug. T3le means by which 
they do it is still kept a secret, and it is probable 
that astheir,disGoveriesara indepeadentj so they 
differ from each other. 

An Old BiBEE.-A-gentleraan'-inFredericktowh^ 
Pa., has in his. posses.sfon a Bible.' print-ed iii 
loiuioji in 1495.: — "This d-ate^^" lie says, iu a let- 
-ter recently received from him, "I find at the be- 
ginning of the new.Testament, the date being torn 
out at the front part: The Psalms -at the end, 
were printed by anothft' person i-n the y^ar 1 641 . 
It is printed in the old' English black letter 
style, with the exception of the argument at the 
beginning of each book and the marginal refer- 
ences." 



NOTBLTY. 
The loye of novelty is a principle deep- 
ly rooted in the human mind. It dis- 
plays itself in the dawn of infancy, and 
in the maturity of manhood manj' things 
attract attention which have no other re- 
commendation than of being new. When 
controlled by higher faculties and direc- 
ted in its proper channel, it is not only in- 
nqcent but highly valuable in its results. 
It has urged forward the philosopher in 
his researches after those hidden truths 
which have proved of an inestimimable 
value to man"kind. It has led the mariner 
across the pathless ocean in quest of new 
discoveries, and thus revealed the treas- 
ures of new Countries, and we daily wit- 
ness its results in the various improve- 
ments of which weboast. But though in 
reference to the works of nature and art 
we may seek for something new — though 
we may exercise human ingenuity in all 
the departments of knowledge, yet upon 
the subject of religion we should beware 
of novelties. It becomes us on this sub- 
ject in a humble and childlike spirit to en- 
quire for the good (Jld way. The system 
of truth contained in the Scriptures of the 
Old and New Testaments, was perfect 
when it came from the hand of its divine 
Author, "and no art or inginuity can add 
aught to its perfection — it cannot be added 
to, nor any thing subtracted from it with- 
out maring- its beauty. We find, however, 
in all ages a proneness in some professed 
teachers of divine truths to depart from 
"the old paths" and seek for something 
new, and many, with the characteristic 
love of novelty, have gone after them. — 
But as man did not invent the system of 
religion laid down in the word of God, it 
is impossible for him to mend or improve 
it. "The gospelwhich I preach" said the 
Apostle, "is not of manner by man." — 
"Son of man," said the Lord to his proph- 
et, "preach the preachings that I bid thee." 
"Hear the word from my mojith and give 
them warmina' from me." E. 



Immigration. — The immigration into 
the port of New York for the last eight 
months was 192,836. During the same 
'period last year there arrived 143,702. — 
Increase this year 49,134. The average 
since the month of April has been over 
1,000 per day. On the 4th the number 
of emio-rants arrived was 13,976. 



The Lord is more or less present in ev- 
ery human soul; and from his dictates to 
the mind, the righteous speak. He is no 
where so present as m the mind of a good 
man. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



29 



[For the Classic Union.] 
MAN'S LOVE. 
When woman's eye grows dull, 

And her cheek paleth: 
When fades the beautiful, 

Then man's love faileth; 
He sits not beside her chair. 

Clasps not her fingers. 
Twines not the damp hair 

That o'er her brow lingers. 

He comes but a moment in, 

Though her eye lightens, 
Though her cheek, pale and thin. 

Feverishly brightens; 
He stays but a moment near, 

When that flush fadeth. 
Though true aifection's tear 

Her soft eyelid shadeth. 

He goes from her chamber straight. 

Into life's jostle, 
He meets at the very gate. 

Business and bustle; 
He thinks not of her within. 

Silently sighing: 
He forgets in that noisy din 

That she is dying ! 

And when the young heart is still. 

That though he mournetli. 
Soon from his soiTOW chill. 

Wearied he turneth; 
Soon o'er her buried head 

Memory's light setteth. 
And the true-hearted dead 

Thus man forgetteth. 



WOMAN'S LOVE. 
When man is waxing frail. 

And his baud is thin and weak. 
And his lips are parched and pale. 

And wan and white his cheek: 
Oh, then doth woman prove 
Her constancy and love ! 

She sitteth by his chair. 

And holds his feeble hands. 

She watcheth ever there. 
His wants to understand; 

His yet unspoken will 

She hasteneth to fulfill. 

She leads him, when the moon 
Is bright o'er dale and hill. 

And all things, save the tune 
Of the honey bees, are still. 

Into the garden bowers. 

To 'midst herbs and flowers. 

And when she goes not there. 
To feed on breath and bloom. 

She brings the posy rai'e. 
Into his darkened room: 

And 'neath his weary head 

The pillow smooth doth .spread. 

Until tlie hour of death 
His lamp of life doth dim. 

She never wearieth. 
She never leaveth him; 

Still near him night and day 

She iueets his eye alway. . 

And when liis trial's o'er. 



And the turf is on his breast, 
Deep in his bosom's core 

Lie son-QWs uuexpress'd; 
Her tears, her sighs are weak. 
Her settled grief to speak. 

And though there may arise 
Balm for iier spirit's pain. 
And though her quiet eyes 

May sometimes smile again. 
Still, still she must regr,et. 
She never can forget"! 

SALLIE M. MOYLER. 
Athens, Ala., Aug. 25. 



To the Editors of the National Intelligencer: 
Engineer's Oefice, Winchester, 'Tex^-. i 
July 27, 1851. 'I 
Messrs. Gales & Seaton: AEow -an 
humble votary of science to sugo-est 
through the Intelligencer a difficulty in re- 
gard to Foucaulfs experiment which ^fe»i5 
insuperable, and to ask a solution of some 
of your many able correspondents who 
have recently been investigating it. Per- 
haps Mr. T. E. Browne* can satisfactorily 
explain it, and by doing so would oblio-e 
hundreds to whom the same difficulty pre- 
sents itself. It is this: It is assumed from 
the laws of inertia and mechanical force 
that the pendulum, once in motion, will 
continue to oscillate in the same or paral- 
lel planes. Now, if a pendulum be set in 
motion towards a fixed star, say the pole 
star, by this law of inertia it will continue 
to vibrate towards the pole star; or, in 
other words, the pole star becomes a point 
in the plane of its vibration, and is tixed; 
the centre of the earth, by the laws of 
gravity, constitutes a second fixedf point 
in the plane of its vibration; the point of 
suspension constitutes a third point in the 
plane, and is movable because of the rota- 
ry motion af the earth. Three points al- 
ways determine the position of a plane in 
space. Since, then, the pole star and the 
centre of the earth are common points in 
all the planes which a pendulum may de- 
scribe, and since the point of suspension 
becomes successively a point in each plane, 
and also changes its position 15° every 
hour, have we not a series of intersecting 
planes instead of parallel ones? I should 
be glad to see this difficulty removed by 
any one who can, for it constantly annoys 
me, and obscures to me all the attempts 
at explanation I have seen given to the 
■pendulum experiment. Allow me also to 
ask Mr. T. E. Browne if he has ever lur- 
nished to the world a demonstration of 
the exact squaring of the circle, which he 
says the Egyptians did six hundred years 
ago; if so, where can it be found, and if 
not, whether it is his purpose to do, so ? 
Yours truly, 

MINOR 3IEKIWETHEK 

tl- call it fixed, because the orbitual motion of 
the earth has no bearing on the present difficul- 
ty, and therefore ma}' be omitted in its .consider- 
ation. 

*Tlii>; geritleman died' within t«n days after 
the publiciitidn &f his note oa this subiect. — 
Eds. Nat. Jntel. 

A man whose mind is trained to 'find 
huppiness'in doing good, almost always 
has the means of happiness at command. 



.CURIOSITIES OP NATURAL HISTORY. 

Battles op the Ants. — Huber thus 
describes^ in Homeric style, that burlesque 
of human warfare, battle of ants, 'Figure 
to yourself two of .the&3 cities, equal in 
size and population, and situated about a 
hundred paces from each other; observe 
their countless numbers, equal to the 
population of two mighty empires. The 
whole space that separates them, for the 
breadth of twenty-four inches, appears 
alive with prodigious crowds of their in- 
habitants. Thousands of champions, 
mounted on more elevated spots, engage 
in single combat, and seize each other with 
their powerful jaws; a still greater num- 
ber are engaged on both sides in takino- 
prisoners, who make vain efforts to escape, 
conscious of the cruel fate which awaits 
: them when arrived at the hostile formica- 
I ry. The spot where the battle most rages 
is about two or three square feet in di- 
mensions; a peneti-atiug odor exhales on 
all sides; numbers of ants ai-e here lying 
dead, covered with venom; others, com- 
posing groups or chains, are hooked to- 
gether by their legs or jaws, and drag 
each other alternately in contrary direc- 
tions. These groups are formed gradu- 
ally. At first, a pair of combatants seize 
each other, and rearing upon their hind 
legs, mutually spurt their acid, then, 
closing, they fall and wrestle in the dust. 
Again recovering their feet, each endea- 
vors to drag oft' his antagonist; if their 
strength be equal, they remain immovable 
till the arrival of a third gives one advan- 
tage. Both, however, are often succored 
at the same time, and the battle still con- 
tinues undecided; others take part on each 
side, till chains are formed of six, eighty 
and sometimes teij, all hooked together, 
and struggling pertinaciously for the mas- 
tery, the equilibrium remains unbioken, 
till a number of champions from the same 
hive arriving at once, compel them to let 
go their hold, and the single, combatants 
recommence. At the approach of night 
each party retreats to its own city; but be- 
fore the following dawn the combat is re- 
newed with redoubled fury, and occupies 
a greater extent of ground. These daily 
fights continue till violent rains separating 
the combatants, they forget their quarrel, 
and peace is restored. 



Settling Accounts. — A gentleman in- 
troduced an intidel friend to a minister, 
and he remarked that he never attended 
public worship ! 

' Ah, said the minister, ' I am almost 
tempted to hope you are bearing false wit- 
ness against your neighbor. ' 

' By no means, for I always spend Sun- 
day in settling accounts.' 

The minister immediately replied, 

.|.You will find, sir, that theday of judo'- 
ment will be spent in the same manner.' 

M^ Mr. Cuvier says that a whale may 
live tep thousand years, and that a pair of 
whales may have the domestic pleasure of 
living to count 72,000,000 of their ofl"- 
spring. This is filling (he command with 
vunireancc. 



80 



CLASSIC UNION. 



[For the ClassicUuion.] 
RESIGNATION. 

My heart, my heart is sorro-w-crushed. 
In still despair my -n-oe is hushed. 
Low, lie I by the broken well. 
Whose radiant wares no longer swell. 

l/oosed is the silver cord of hope. 
Broke at the fount, the golden cup. 
The hasty draught was sparkling bliss, 
ButO, I knew life was not this ! 

One moment drank I, and forgot. 
That I was Christ's remembered not. 
One hour '.twas nectar to my taste. 
But 0, 'twas bitterness at last ! 

0, shall I weep and wildly plain. 
And make this chastening in vain. 
Shall I visit this staff and rod. 
Who is my Fa- her and my God ? 

0, not if prayer be not in vain, 
Not, if this grave I may regain. 
Not if Christ's power can yet subdue. 
And mould the mind and will anew ! 

Help me my God ! (my strength is none) 
Be strong to say — " They will be done!" 
And if it be Thy will in rae. 
Baptised in sufferings, let me be. 

May I the rugged Calvary climb. 
May I but tread that bright sublime. 
Can I not lean upon the cross. 
And calmly smile on earthly loss ? 

I feel the kindlings of that power. 
And tho' renewed is conflict's hour, 
I yet can bow before the throne 
And safely say, " Thy will be done!" 

Baptised in sufferings was my Lord, 
Let me too, be, if 'tis Thy word. 
Even unto death my will subdue 
I shall arise to live anew! 

Come then 0, fire, that first refined. 
Again, melt, change and form my mind. 
All purely purged away its dross, ■ 
A lively image of the cross ! 

'Tis done — " baptised into this death," 
Again I rise — " breathe thou, breath!" 
And lo ! the living power returns. 
From pulse to pulse, it breathes, it burns ! 

Arise my soul, this grace a,dore 
Captive to sin and grief no more ! 
O, angel harps, resound for me. 
The triumphs of a soul set free ! 

NAOMI. 
Aug. 26th 1851. 

THE FIRE ANNIHILAtOR. 

The London Journals, by the last steam- 
ers, give continued and more interesting- 
accounts of the tests of this great discove- 
ry. It is no longer a theory,— it is a fact, 
and the demand for the mechanics is so 
extensive, that although the patentee turns 
out over two thoitsand per day, yet he has 
full two weeks' orders on hand unfilled. — 
They are sought after by all the principal 
manufactories, distilleries and stores, as 
well as mansions and private residen«eSjOf 
Great Britain. The highest recommenda- 



tion, however, came from Lord Brougham, 
who recently introduced a bill into Parlia- 
ment requiring every Government emi- 
grant vessel to be supplied with one or 
more of the Fire Annihilators. One of 
the high merits of the discovery tested by 
several practical experiments, is the fact, 
that while the vapor will almost instanta- 
neously suppress a flame, it can be inhaled 
without any injury or inconvenience to the 
hings of persons in the building; and 
moreover, it can be used as a protection 
to'the person, enabling a fireman or other 
individual to go right into the heated room. 
The London Standard, speaking of a late 
test of tlys merit, said: 

"Itwas astonishing to see with what 
ease the firemen, protected by the vapor 
emitted from the cylinder, could deliber- 
ately and with impunitj"" walk into the mid- 
dle of a fire, whose heat caused distant 
spectators to recoil, and succeed in pouring 
the vapor into the interior of the building. 
This Gumbination of gases is by ko means 

INJURIOUS TO ANIMAL LIFE QUITE THE 

CONTRARY, although it is indomitably anti- 
combustive. The flame of gas, or of such 
combustible substances or fluid as cannot 
be overcome (except by immersion) by 
means of water, are instantaneously ex 
tinguished by it." 

Of course there is a general anxiety in 
this country to have such an important 
safety-machine introduced. One of the 
features of our patent laws will demand 
its introduction in a very short time — that 
provision which compels any foreigner, 
obtaining a patent here, to otter it for sale 
in the United States, within eighteen 
months after the date af his grant, or the 
same becomes forfeited. It is now six- 
teen months since Mr. Phillips obtained 
his patent in Washmgton, and, therefore, 
within two manths he must offer his Anni- 
hilators for sale, in this country. Wheth- 
er our friends of the " Fire insurance" in- 
terest are particularly "anxious to see it be- 
come common, we are not advised; but 
property holders who pay high premiums 
for protection, both to Insurance compa- 
nies and Fire companies, will surely re- 
joice. — Cincinnati Enq. 

ELEGANT EXTRACT. 

And how vast the range of blessing 
your prayers may take. Who can tell the 
history or trace the wonderings of yon 
cloud, that sails in light and glory across 
the sky, or indicate from what source its 
bosom was filled with the vapors it is yet 
to shed, back upon the earth? Perhaps, 
though now wandering over the tilled field 
and the peopled village, its stores were 
drawn from some shaded fountain in the 
deep forest, where the eye of man has 
scarce ever penetrated. In silent obscuri- 
ty that fountain yielded its pittance and 
did its work in preparing to bless tlie far- 
otf lands that shall yet be glad for it. — 
And even thus is it with the descending- 
Spirit. Little do we know often of the 
secret origin of the dews of blessing that 
descend on the churches of God. In the 
recesses of some lowly cottage, in the 
depths of some humble heart, may be go- 
ing on the work of pious intercession, in 



answer to which the grace of Heaven de- 
scends on us and on our children, on the 
labors of the wondering and joyful pastor, 
and on the hearts of the far heathen, un- 
til the wilderness and solitary place are 
glad for them. The time is to come when 
from every home, brethren, such prayer 
shall arise. Let us sustain and swell in 
our day the ascending volume of supplica- 
tion that is yet to roll around the globe, 
and never to fail until over a world regen- 
erated and purified, the morning star shall 
again shout for joy, and the earth emerg- 
ing from her long and disastrous eclipse 
of sin and wrath, shall yet again walk the 
heavens in her unsullied brightness a new 
heaven and a new earth wherein dwelleth 
righteousness. — Dr. Wm. R. Williams. . 



Corruption of Words. — Take, for 
example, the word kerchief There is no 
doubt that this word is derived from the 
French couvre chef, and obviously meant 
a covering for the head. Brevity con- 
verted couvre chef into kerchief. This 
was well enough for colloquial purposes, 
and no great harm done. By degrees, 
however, having occasion to enlarge the 
application of the word for our conven- 
ience, we flung etymology to the winds, 
and coined the word handkerchief — , 
which, broken up into its constituent parts, 
means literally a head-cover for the hand. 
The force of absurdity would seem to be 
incapable of going beyond this, but worse 
remains behind. Having reconciled our 
consciences to handkerchief, there was no 
difiiculty in finding kerchiefs in like man- 
ner for all possible purposes; and accor- 
dingly we have manufactured a pocket- 
handkerchief, which means a head cover 
for the hand to go into the pocket, and a 
neck-handkerchief, or head cover for the 
hand to be tied round the neck. 



A writer says, women require more 
sleep than men, and farmers less than 
thase engaged in almost any other occu- 
pation. Editors, reporters, and doctors, 
need no sleep at all. Lawyers can sleep 
as much as they please, and thus keep out 
of mischief Clergymen sleep twelve 
hours out of every twenty-four, and put 
their parish to sleep once a week. 

The same auther, in speaking once of 
his tea-kettle, said it was like Abernathy's 
great work "on the bile," an exquisite pun 
that nobody but Hood would ever have 
thought of By the way, how comes it 
that some of our publishers don't go to 
work and get out "Hood's Works com- 
plete in one Volume?" At the present 
time, they are as scattered as the fleaks 
which made up last winters snow. Where 
are the Harpers? 

Voltaire. — In a company, who were 
conversing on the antiquity of the world, 
Voltaire, on his opinion being asked said. 
The world is like an old coquette who dis- 
o-uises her age. "Until within thirty or 
forty years she passed for only 6000 years 
old; but geologists say they have since 
discovered in her face the wrinkles of in- 
definite years. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



^ 1 



LENT BOOKS. 

There are many evils under the sun ; and oneis 
the imuiorality of notreturning a borrowed book. 
When a man \)oitows a book, he virtually en- 
gages to use it carefully, and then return it 
within a reasonable time. He ought to do so. — 
His possession is merely temporary. The book 
is neither giren nor sold. It is simply borrow- 
ed. To get it, and then keep it unreasonably or 
forever, is a breach of honesty. The lender 
perhaps forgets where it is; and then to him it is 
lost, not in the depths of the ocean, but in the 
private and unknown possession of the boirow- 
er. Even as an act of sheer carelessness, it is 
not justifiable. Strict and scrupulous honesty, 
touching this little, though not unimportant 
point in good morals, as we have no doubt, 
would bring home to their true owners quite a 
number of books, that have been out on a long 
pilgrimage. Wot long since a clergyman re- 
marked to us : ■' I have lost a great many books 
by lending them — some that I valued very high- 
ly. They are gone: but I cannot tell where." — 
Too often a lent book, like a vessel on the path- 
less ocean, leaves no trace behind; or, like Noah's 
dove, returns no more. It does not go back to 
breathe its native air, or refresh the owner with 
the incidents of its journe}-. Being acclimated 
and snugly lioused in another's library, it stays 
there till the tooth of time consumes it, and dis- 
misses it from the seiwice of men. Alas ! for the 
imfortunate owner ! He will never see it more ! 
Reader, have you in your possession a borrowed 
book ? Think before you answer. If so, how 
long have you had it? Is it not quite time to 
return it ? Put tie shoe on the other foot; make 
yourself the lender, and then judge of the bor- 
rower's duty. 



TRIBUTE OF RESPECT. " SvnAy Aeeog.^n-ce— A!phou=o X., king of 

- — - j Leon Castile, once said, that "if God ]ip,d con- 

Ata meeting of the, Calliopean Society, held ' suited him in the formation of- the universe, lie 
in their hall at the University, on Saturday the would have given him directions for a more per- 
2flth inst., the President announced to the Soci- ; feet wholeV" Tlie great Frencli mathematician, 
ety that an esteemed member, William Lax, i Laplace, has stated in his wriiing, that if the 
wliom we had hoped to meet on our returnf to moon had been somewhat differeu;ly placed, it 
School, had departed' this life at ' home, near might have been more useful for liglitino- the 
Bolivar, Tenn., (at hisfather'shouse,) whereupon-: earth! Blackstone quotes from a European 
the following preamble and resolutions were : Prince of the middle ages, who commenced one 
unanimously adopted*: ' ' 

IFAereas, -God in his providence has seen fit 
to remove our beloved brother, Wm. L.\x, whom 
we highly esteemed and regarded as an orn4 
ment ro our Society, therefore. 

Resolved, That, we deeply regret the loss of 
one whose amiable qualities, whose mental en 



of his. edicts as follows: 

" We moderating the rigor of the divine law, 
do enact," itc. 

Can anyreadcr refer to three more remarkable 
and daring examples of heaven-scaling arro- 
gance than these ? Ho'W strikingly in contrast 
with the modesty and humility of tlie great New- 
dowment, and whose consistent piety, gave prom- | ton, who at the close of a life devoted to science, 
ise of more than an ordinary degree of use- i and crowned with discoveries that have render- 
fulness. I ed his name immortal, declared that he, was like 
Resohed, That we affectionately extend to ' one who had been gathering a few pebbles on the 
the parents and relatives of the decea.sed, our s^ashoi'e, while the great ocean of truth lay all 
siucerecondoleuce in their sad bereavement and ( undiscovered before him. 

irreparable loss. ■ ' 

Resolved, That in token of our respect and es- 
teem ■ for brotlier Wm. Lax, we will wear the 
usual badge pf mourning for thirty .days 



A HAPPY FRAME 



oraiND. 



To be calm and cool in inferior things is better 
than zeal. "A man of understanding is of an 
excellent spirit," in the Hebrew, a cool spirit. — 
Injuries do not fret him into a flame, neither does 
any occurrence heat him into any height of joy, 
grief or anger. Who more temperate in these 
things than Moses '! But set this holy man to 
pray, and he is all life and zeal. Indeed, it is 
one excellence of this fervencv of spirit that it 
allays all sinful impatience, bavid's fer\'ency 
in prayer for his child, whon alive, made him 
bear the tidings of his death so patientl}'. We 
hear not an angry word that Haunali replies to 
her scolding companion Peninhah; and why? — 
Because slie had found the art of easing, her 
troubled heart in prayer. Why need she coutend 
with her adoersary, who could be wrestling with 
God to espouse her quarrel; and were there no- 
thing else to commend fervency of spirit in 
prayer, this is enough, that, like David's harp. 
It can charm the evil spirit of our passions, 
which, in their excess, the saint counts great 
sins, and finds them grievous troubles — Guraal. 



I I>"FLI'E>'CE OF XUE SaBB-ATH OX THE WeEK. 1 

] have found by long and sound experience, that 
Resolved: That a copy'of these resolutions be J'''= ^"'^ observance of this day and its duties, 
spread upon our book, and a copy of the same ' ^''^ ^"^ °f ^"=1 "^""f*"^',^" ^^varitage to 
be sent to the parents of the deceased, and also , T^^, . The_holy observance *.f this day has ever 
be publi..hed inthe Classic Union, Tennesse J'.^^/™^^J.,° ^^ J. ^J,'^^.'^'"^ °V *? rest of my 
Baptist, Rutherford Telegraph, and Bolivar f 



Herald. 

A. B. Hayxes, Sec. 



C.H. HARRIS, Pres. 



INSENSIBILITY TO DAILY MERCIES. 

Alas! what reason have wc to complain of this! 
We receive mercies, are ofteuloud and clamorous 
in asking for them, and yet make no correspon- 
ding return. But common mercies, which come 
without asking for, are almost necessarily for- 
gotten; and yet not forgotten either, for they 
were never the subjects of perception;. they come 



essing 
I, time, and the week so begun has been blessed 
and prosperous to me. On the other hand, when 
I have been negligent of the duties of this day, 
therest of the week has been unsuccessful and 
unhappy to my secular employments, so that I 
could easily make an estimate of my success the 
week following, by the manner of passing this 
day; and this I do uot lightly or inconsiderately", 
but upon long and careful observation and expe- 
rience. — Sir Matthew Hale. 



Forget Your Ixjueies. — He is unwise and un- 
happy who never forgets the iujurief he may 



in such an ordinal-^ way, they never awdkeour '^PP^' ""." "jve lo.ge.s me ,njui.e> ne maj, 
cnn»cin„.np«- but. never feel their ..re.sence: we ! l^^X^. received; they are indented on h s face. 



consciousness; but never feel their presence; we 



them, or even knowing that there are such things 
or saving with the prophet, "By these things 
men live, and in them is the life of the spirit." 
The same idea seems to have formed part of the 
perience of good men in all ages, but has 



Facilities For Htddt. — To study successfully, 
the body must be healthy, the mind at ease, and 
time managed with great economy. Persons 
who study many hours in tlie day, should per- 
haps have two separate pursuits going on at the 
same time — one for one part of th( day, and the 
other for the other; and these of as opposite a 
nature aspis^ible — as Euclid and Aristo — Locke 
and Homer — Hartly on man, and voyages round 
the globe — that the mind may be rofi-eshed by 
change, and all tlie bad effects of lassitude 
avoided. There is one piece of advice, in a life 
of study, which I think no one will object to, 
and that is, every now and then to be completely 
idle — to do nothing at all; indeed, this part of a 
life of study is commonly considered as so de- 
cidedly superior to the rest, that it has alhiost 
obtained an exclusive preference over those.other 
parts of the system, with which I wish to see it 
connected. 



The Native Americans have nominated a sepa- 
rate ticket for Governor and other State oflicers 
in Pennsylvania. 

Miss Bremer, the Swedish authoress, was to 
have left this country on her voyage homeward 
last Saturday on thesteamer Atlantic from New 
York. 



f, J ,., 1 ,. ; +i..^„, ^^^ Tir„ : matins: tne Visage 01 tne miureu man irigntlul,. 

feed upon them, but recognize them not. We ,., °i ■ j ^ j • a- i j »i, . * i 

J- 1 ii 1- •!„■.. ^;.i>„, -„.,,„, ;t „, r...ai;„„ like neglectedwounds inflicted upon the stately 
drink the liquid an, without seeing it or leeling I ■ =, ,. , . ,, , . '^ a iv tC 

., , ., . t „ ' „ 1- j„„,, i °ri..„,, ,r;,i, ' tree, and which might have been eiiaced by the 
that it sustains us; we lie down to sleep, with- i .. i t, i j " n-^ i :: i • 

^ia,.^-, 11 i -l o i;,i„f„o „.,,. (,-i,„„. „.„ careful husbandman. Ihey come home to his 

out feeling that it consolidates our irame; we , ^,., , ^i i . *^ n ■ u 

. ^ \, . , „ „ 1 „i :„f„ „ „' ,„ heart like, when the sunshine of happiness would 

appropriate the mercies crowded into every mo- ,, ,. ' , ., ,. . , . '^'^ i^ .i ,. ,. 

^' . it : „„,.,. .,„„.i;.. , .„„„,„,.-,,^„ „f bless him, and throw him Lnto a tumult, that not 

nt, without any corresponding memories ot ., ,, ■, mi i r i. ,. • 

.-,'.;..„..„„. -„„£.;„„ri.„,\v,„,.„,?o.„.i, ,!,;„„. easily subsides. The demon of hate reigns m 

his bosom, and makes him of all accountable 
creatures the most miserable. 

Have you been injured in purse or character ? 
Let the smiling angel of forgiyeness find repose 

^ . ""r ^..f iT u,. °iV ,t n,n^ in vour bosom and you will be fully revenged, 

seldom been more beautifully brought out than ■,.,•<••' -^ i °ui 

f ., "<^>^" "^ » J T3- 1 „ n„,?, „i 1 - « A . i a'ld what is of more consequence, your health 

by the once celebrated Bishop Keyuofds. "As , <■ • j -ii v, • i 

i/ T^ no ,, ,1 v\ , .."i..- 1 ;„ n,„ and peace of mind will be unproved, 

the Dead Sea. says the Bishoj), "drinks in the i r 

river Joiiian, and is never the sweeter, and 

the ocean all other rivers, and is never the fresh.- 

er, so we are apt to receive daily mercies from 

God, and still rcmalft insensible of theiij." 

LivB For SoMtTBixG. — Thousands of men 
breathe, move and live — pass oft' the stage of 
life, and are heard of no more. Why? They 
do not a particle of good in the world; and none 
wire blessed by them. None can point to them 
as the instrument of their redemption; not a liue 
they wrote, not a word they spoke could be re- 
called, and so they perish, their light went out I fa/herk'si 



The Precious Pearl. — Religion in a female 
secures all her interests. It graces her charac- 
.ter, promotes her peace, endears her friendship, 
secures esteem, and adds a dignity and worth 
indescribable to all her deeds. How pleasant, 
when the absent husband can think of home, 
and reflect that angels watch the place ! When 
about to leave her a widow, how consoling, if 
her character is such tliat she" can lean on the 
widow's God, and put her childrc'n under the 
diansliip of Him, who' is the father of the 
, , , 1 - - , 1 ninerless ! Then he quits the world calm and 
in darkness, and they were not remembered more . j^ supported by the hope that he shall meet 
than the insects of yesterday. Will you thus »i,r.„ „n :., i ,„„ 



live and die, man immortal? Live for some- 
thing ! Do good, and leave behind you a mon- 
ument of virtue that the storms of life can never 
destroy. Write your name by kindness, love 
and mercy, on. the hearts of tliousands with 



them all in heaven. 



Flowers. — ^Ladies, are you fond of having 

flowers in your room, you will perhaps bo glad 

to know that about as much nitrate of soda as 

whom you come in contact year by year, and you can be easily taken up between the forefinger and 



will never be forgotten ! No, your name, your i thumb, put into the glass every time the water is 
deeds, will be as legible on the hearts you leave | clianged, will preserve cut flowers in all their 



behind, as the star 
Dx. Clial'tners 



on the sky of evening 



beauty for above a. fortniglit. Nitrate of potash, 
that is, common saltpetre, in powSer, has nearly 
the same effect, bnt is not quite so efficacious. 
FiT.vESs FOE Heavex. — Let us not delude our- ~ 

selves. This is a truth, if there be anv religion; Teach Jii; the Nusibku of my Days. — Every day 
they who are not made saints in the slate of I is a little, life, and our v,'hole life is but a day 
grace shall never be saints in glory. The stones ; repeated. Jacob numbered his life by days, 
which are appointed for that glorious temple and Mo.^es dfsired to be taught this holy arith- 
above, are hewn and poli.~hed, and prepared for metic , to -number not his years but his days. — 
it here, as ■ the stones were wrought and pre- i Those, thoicfore, that dare lose a day, are clan- 
pared in the mountains for building the temple gerausly prodigal; tho.-c that dare ini.^pend it, 
at Jerusalem. — Lnghlon. clc=pera;e. 



52 



CLASSIC UNION, 



[From Graham's Magazine for September.] 
TO BELL SMITH. 
I longed to see tliee, gifted one. 

For fame,jn accents warm. 
Had told me of thy loTcliness 

Of mind and face and form; 
But oh, I did not think to meet 

Such charms as 1 have met; 
My dreams of thee -were verj bright. 

But thou art brighter yet. 

When Platolay, in i-iifaney. 

In slumber's soft e'clipse, 
'Tis said the gentle honey-hees 

Came clustering round his lips; 
And thus:, as on thy lips we look. 

So eloquent aud -n-anu, 
A thousand s'n'eet and winged thoughts 

Around them seem to swarm. 

A spell is in thy dark, bright eyes, . 

The wildest soul to tame. 
Dark as the teropest-eloud, and bright' 

As its quick glance of flames; 
And gazing in tlieir earnest depths, 

I see more angels there 
Than fancy to a dreaming seer 

E'er pictured in the air. 

Young Genius his own coronal 

Around thy forehead wreathes, 
And high tlioughts are the atmostphere 

In which- thy spirit breathes; 
Thy soul can read the mysteries 

Of cloud and sky aud star. 
And hear the tones of Eden-spheres 

Borne sweetly down from far. 

Tor thee the soul of poetry 

The universe pervades. 
It gliters in the lit'ht, and dwells 

All softened in the shades; 
The young waves murmur .it, the dew 

Reflects' it from the flower. 
The blue-skies breathe it, and the air 

Thrills with its mystic power. 

Press on, bright one, press proudly on 

To win the laurel crown, 
Aud set thy living name among 

The names of old renown; 
Press on, press on, and thy bright fame 

Will never, never. die. 
But, like the ivy, bighter grow 

As centuries pass by. G. D. P. 



- GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. 

An Isterestimg IxcmENT. — A coitespondent of 
the Springfield Republican has sent an accorait 
of the late meeting in Albany of the American^ 
Association forthe advancement of Science. .We 
extract the following noble and touching in- 
stance of magnanimity, alike honorable 'to the 
parties concerned in it, and to humaii nature 
itself: 

"At the closing meeting on Saturday after- 
noon, one of the most interesting occurrences 
ever witnessed in this Association, took place. — 
It is well known to many, that a difficulty has 
prevailed for some years among some Geologists 
and Naturalists, originating at first in profess- 
ional matter^, but afterwards became personal. 

A lawsuit took place in the Spring, growing 
out of this difficulty, between Dr. Emmons of 
Albany, and Professors Agassiz and Hall. Most 
of the scientific men in the country sided with 
one party or the other, and much liard feeling 
had been manifested. On . Saturday, after pas.s- 
ing resolutions of respect to the memory of Dr. 
Morton, the distinguished naturalist of Philadel- 
phia, Dr. Emmons, whom many con.sidered to 
be deeply aggrieved, arose, and with some com-, 
plimentary remarks, proposed a resolution of 
thanks to his heretofore bitter opponent, tire 
President of the Association, Prof. Agassiz.— 
Such a proceeding, so unexpected, caused the 
President no little embarrassment. He blushed, 
hesitated, and then with the -n'hole sonled mag- 
nanimity for which he is noted, stepped torwaird 
in the assembly, and gave to Dr. Emmonsi the 



man to whom heliad not spoken for years, a free 
and cordial embrace aud greeting. The enthu- 
siasm and excitement of the Association mani- 
fested itself in loud applause, ^nd this act of Prof. 
Agassiz was immediately followed by others-^ 
and, in a moment, the difi'ereilces of years were 
settled. Another suit wliich was also pending, 
has, in consequence of t]ii;s, been withdrawn." 

A Pak.vllel. — The New York Courier furn- 
ishes us with -Btatislics " of the comraei'ce of 
Great Britain and the United States during the 
yeai' 1850, from which we learn that the total 
number of vessels enteiHid at the ports of Great 
Britain was 26,493, with an aggregate touage of. 
4,963,063. The number of vessels entered at 
the ports of the United Statfe, during the same 
period, was 18,512, with an aggregate tonage of 
4,348,639. The total number vessels cleared 
during- the year was, from the ports of Great 
Britain 26,536, with a tonage of 5,417,817; and 
from the ports of: the United States 18,195 ves- 
sels, with -a tonage of 4,361,003. The aggre- 
gate both of entrances aud clearances during 
the year was, in the British ports 53,029 vessels, 
with a tonage o_f 10,380,880, and in the Ameri- 
can ports 36,707 vessels, with a tonage of 8;- 
709,641. Notwithstanding the large excess in 
favor of Great Britain, it is to be obseived that 
if the home tonage of the respective countries 
be deducted, it will be found that the foreign 
tonage of the United States exceeds that of 
Great Britain, viz: deducting home tonage from 
the above totals of entries, we have foreign ton- 
age entering British ports to be 1,595,722, and 
the foreign tonage entering the ports of the 
United States to be 1,776,623. 

The Indiana State Sentinel of the 7th in.st, says 
that the Hon. E. M. Chamberlain, Hon. J. B. 
Niles," Judge Eeardsley, and J.X. Jeniegan, Esq^ 
and many other prominent citizens, of Northern 
Indiana, have connected themselves with the 
New Church, and embraced fully the doctrines 
of Emanuel Swcdenhorg. 

It is announced that Mr. Maealey has at length 
completed two more volumes of his History of 
England, and that they will be published the 
coming autumn simultanteously by the Messrs. 
Lodgman in Loiidon, and the Messrs. Harper 
ill New York. 

N. & C. Rail, Road, — Thejoek excavation at 
Lookout point has so far progressed that persons 
are able to ride around it on horseback. ■ To those 
only,who are acquainted with the locality, will 
this fact give an idea of the amount of worli; al 
ready performed The present rate of progress 
will soon prepare the road, around that formida- 
ble obstruction, for the track-layer; and webe- 
giu to think of celebrating the advent cf the New 
Year '52, by a ride of a few miles on this end of 
the Nashville & , Chattanooga Road.— C/iff"- 
noorja Adv. Zd. 

CoM.PLi>n2XT.4EY. — The Cincinnati Times of the 
11th inst. says— "The Westerns last evening, af 
ter escorting their Nashville guests to the boat on 
which they return to their homes, pi-esented them 
with their beautiful banner accompanied by a 
speech from Mr. Mnlford. Mr. Getzendanner al- 
so spoke for the Cincinnatians. They were re- 
plied to in a feeling and appropriate manner by 
Mr. Glenn, Dr. Dorris and Capt. Dashields, of 
the Nashville firemen. This leave-taking cere- 
mony wasoneof the most interesting attending 
the parade." 

■ , An old rtiaid, who hates the male sex most 
venomously, cut a female acquaintance recently 
whocomplipientedher on the ioiiyancy of her 
spirits. '"•''■ 

There are a*'tEeTpresent time eleven institu- 
tions in the Unitetl States devoted exclusively to 
the education of .the 'deaf and dumb. 



The Gakdinek Claim.; — The Washington cor- 
respondent of the New York Courier writes; 

'Mr. George Slacnm, our former Consul at 
Rio, has gone with the American Minister to 
Mexico charged, as I learn, with the investiga- 
tion of the Gardiner Claim, and all awards 
made by the late Board of Commissioners, so 
that if fraud has been practiced upon the Board, 
it will sooon be made manifest." 

Col. Jeff. Davis, aiTived in our city daj' be- 
fore yesterday, -and took lodgings at the Com- 
mercial Hotel. We regret to learn that his liealth 
is not good. The Holly Springs Jachsoniun an- 
nounces him a candidate for Governor of Missis- 
sippi in place of Gov. Quitman. — Memphis Enq, 

A 'Western editor complains of the scarcity of 
change, — unable to get a dollar bill changed. 
One of his cotcmporaries has more reason yet to 
be dissatfied, — he seldom gets a dollar bill to 
change. 



Maekied. — On Tuesday, 9th inst., by Rev. J. 
H. Eaton, Rev. D. B. Hale to Miss Belle Schlu- 
TEK of Sumner county. 

Died — On Friday, 25th ult., at 7 o'clock a. m., 
in the 20th year of her age, Eliza J., daughter 
of Mrs. Mai7 G. Stevens. 

Died, in this county, on Sunday last, Cora 
Ann, daughter of R. W. and Nai'cissa Wade, 
aged 6 years. 

Died. — ^In this county, on tl^l6th inst., Mrs. 
Mary E. Hoed, consort of Thos. Herd, Esq., and 
daughter of the late Benjamin McCulloch, aged 
nearly 36 years. 

Died — On Thursday last, at the residence of 
her son, R. B. Jetton, Mrs. Mary D. Jetton, 
aged about 71 years. 



I?Ic«licine and. Desita! Sssrgery. 

Br. "E. D. WHEELER, 

Office, West Side of the Public Square, 
jal-ly Mugfeeesborougk, Tenn. 



TO THE LADIES. 

MRS. MARY JANE GLASE, Mantua ^;ej 
Maker, respectfully informs the La-^^^ 
dies of Murfreesborough and vicinity thatJ^SSS 
she intends carrying on the above business in 
all its different branches. Her work shall be ex- 
ecuted in the neatest and most fashionable style, 
and waiTanted to give satisfaction. Orders at- 
tended to at the shortest notice. Prices mode- 
rate. Her rooms, at Jno. Rathee's. ju5-tf 



THE TENNESSEE 

BAPTIST FEMALE INSTITUTE, 

Murfreesborough. 

THE Trustees of this Institution take pleasure 
in announcing that they have made arrange- 
ments for the immediate organization of this 
School. The first session will commence in the 
Baptist Church, on the first Monday in August, 
under the superintendence of Mrs. J.H. Eaton, 
who will be assi.stcd by as many competent 
-teachers as the wants of the Institute may require. 

Efforts are being made to erect immediately, 
commodious and suitable buildings. 

The course of instruction will be as thorough 
as any Female School in our country. Arrange- 
ments liave been made to accommodate a num- 
ber of young ladies with Board in the best pri- 
vate families on reasonable terms. 
RATES OF TUITION. 

1st Class, with Greek and Latin, $20 00 
Do without " " 16 00 

2nd Class 12 00 

3rd Clas 8 00 



TEKMS: 

The Cl/(ssic Union will be published on the 
first and fifteenfli of each month, at One Dol- 
LAE per year, invariably in advance. Address 
M. HiLLSMAN, post paid. 

Pulished at the office of the Rutherford Tcle- 
tfraph, South-west Corner of the Square. 





/^^^ -t-^^ 



DEVOTED TO RELIGION, LITERATURE, AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. 



VOL. I. 



IVIURFREESBOROUGH, OCTOBER 15, 1851. 



NO. 3. 



y 



THE MEANS OF PERMANENCY IN AMER- 
ICAN COLLEGES. 

AN EXTRACT FROM THE IN.iCGfEAL ADDllESS OF rEOF. 
SIIELTOX. 

At every period in the history of man, 
the influence of schools has been co-exten- 
sive with the diffusion of knowle^'ge. Not 
more truly has the Bible been the ever- 
accompanying- companion of religion and 
virtue, than the college has gone hand in 
liaud with ihteUigence and civilization. — 
la Judea were the " schools of the Proph- 
ets," where her scribes and lawyers and 
teachers were taught. Phaenicia, and 
Egypt and Babylon had, each her learned 
colleges, where her "wise men" investi- 
gated the mysteries of Astrology and the 



number and character of a nation's col 
leges is the index to her intelligence. — 
England can boast of two Universities 
and numerous colleges, as the nurseries of 
her civilization. Scotland has four Uni- 
versities; Germany has twenty; Nether- 
lands six; and Prussia is distinguished, 
over all the world for the number and ex- 
cellence of her schools. Our own Amer- 
ica can point to four or five Universities, 
and to a hundred colleges, where her 
scholars have been tiained, and a higher 
civilization fostered and promoled. Let 
no one then lightly esteem the mission of 
colleges. They are the nurseries of in- 
telligence and refinement. Wher&ver the 
University is planted, and permitted to 
intricacies of letters. Greece could I develope its resources, the influence which 



proudly point to her lyceums and acade- 
mies, as the sources from whicli ejiianated 
the brightest names on the catalogue of 
her distinguished sons. ^\nii Rome could 
name some one of her own schools or of 
those of Greece, as the Alma Mater of her 
best poets and statesmen and orators. 

Wken Greece and Italy were the seats 
of many schools they were the birth-pla- 
ces of many great men. But when the 
hordes of northern barbarians overwhelm- 
ed the Roman empire, and extinguished 
the light of ancient schools, the light of 
learning and civjlization was extinguished 
also; and the world was left in intellcc'ual 
darkness, except in the east, where the 
light of universities shone around the 
proud walls of Cordova and Constantino- 
ple. At length, in the fifteenth century, 
after many hundred years of intellectual 
and spiritual darkness, the light of learn- 
ing, simultaneously with that of relioion 
again dawned upon the world. Universi- 
ties reared their walls to heaven, in Ger- 
many and France and England: and while 
the Bible was dug up from the rubbish of 
ages in which it had been burned, knowl- 
edge and religion joined hand in hand and 
effectedthe reformation of the world. 
In this age, and among all people, the 



it exerts, is for the elevation of society r.rid 
the good of man. 

In our own stale, numerous attempts 
have been made to establish colleges. — 
They have generally seemed to promise 
well for a time; but, in tiie end, have al- 
most universally failed. Among these, I 
will take the liberty of referring to a few, 
which have come under m^' personal ob- 
servation, and whose history, I tliink, will 
be fair examples-of the others. 

First in order, because first in age and 
character, I will mention my own Alma 
Maler, which always fills a sacred place in 
my memory. It is now nearly half a cen- 
tury since her foundations were laid. For 
many years she rivalled the best institu- 
tions in the east. She possessed a cabi- 
net inferior to few in America; and a 
library, the most extensive in the west. — 
She always sustained a faculty, equal 'per- 
haps, in ability, to any in the Union; and 
owned a capital sufficient to satisfy all her 
wants. Yet with all these advantages, 
Nashville University, the oldest daughter 
of the State, — the pride of her mother, — 
the catalogue of whose graduates contains 
as many distinguished names, I doubt not, 
as any school of the sf.mo age in the na- 



a time to be. Her President is gone; two 
of her most distinguished Professors are 
dead; her spires are fallen, and her rooms 
are deserted. There is however hope that 
she will be revived again, and may that 
hope not be disappointed. 

The University of East Tennessee, the 
second daughter of the State, whose 
beautiful buildings may be seen in the dis- 
tauce, as they shine 'over the hills of 
Knoxville, possesses advantages inferior 
to few schools in the country; and once her 
number of students was very lar"e, and 
bright were her prospects for a" career of 
future glory. But I was informed by a 
traveller, only a few weeks ago, that the 
number of her students was very small. 

Twenty years ago were laid the found- 
ations of an institution not more than 
thirty miles from this place, which some of 
you perhaps may remember. Many were 
the youths who flocked to Clinton College 
from every part of the State, and it seem- 
ed to give fair promise for the future. — 
But where is it now ? Only the deserted 
walls are left, to tell the passing traveller 
where it stood. 

It was my privilege, some fifteen years 
ago, to be a student in the Tennessee Mil- , 
itary Institute, then in its palmy days. — 
But as I lately passed by the place where 
it stood, the decaying walls were the only 
marks by which it could be distinguished 
fiom the surrounding w^ste. 

Only four years ago the honorable fra- 
ternity of Tennessee Masons resolved to 
estabUsh a University for their order in the 
State. It was located in the tbrlvwig city 
of Clarksville. la due time the handsome 
amount of thirty thousand dollars was 
raised for the erection of buildings, and a 
quorum of well qualified Professors cho- 
sen. It opened with tiie brigli(*:st pros- 
pects of success. More th:ui a hundred 
students, I believe, entered during the first 
session, a splendid edifice wo^ ei-c-eted,-r- 
one acknowledged by all v, ho nave seeni^ 



J 



tion,-— Nashville University has ceased for j to possess f^necendent beaufy and taste. 



u 



CLASSIC UNION 



And yet, the Masonic University of Ten- 
nessee, in the short space of four years, 
and even before its splendid edifice lias 
been completed. Las been bereft of its 
three most distinguished 'Professors and 
deserted by the M-asonic Lo_dge, its fiuthor 
and founder'. .;' .' -■ 

Oar brethren . in ilie ieause o.f ieafniug, 
of the neighboring' vilLige of Lebanon 
have laid the foundations of a "University i 
which bids fair for ultimate success.^ May j 
its future history verify its early promises ! I 
May it live and flourish forever ! 

For the last five .years the friends of 
learning_arid. religion have be.en, erecting a 
college here.. Hitherto their labors have! 
been successful. An edifice has been 
reared whose classic symmetry attracts thfri 
admiration of all. The number of its \ 
students is much larger than any institii- ! 
tion in the State can boast. Never has a 
school commenced imder more favorable 
auspices, or with better prospects of suc- 
cess. The uni'evealed future, alone, can | 
declare what these bright promises may I 
lead to. It possesses no prinofly estate, 
on which relying, it can be indepcuJeiit of ; 
the patronage of ' the people. It boasts 
no long list of distinguished sons to whom 
it can point as the exponents of its worth. 
It has uo gilded domes and magnificent 
turrets, lining in splendor, to attract the 
admiratipn of the woild. Here it stands, 
like the. Areopagus of Athens, simple, 
Tinassuming', yet the more beautiful from 
its plainness:- — a monument of the enlight- 
ened liberality of its friends. 

The eye of the Philanthropist instinct- 
ively turns from the present and the past, 
and, looking down through the vista of 
the future, asks with anxious solicitude, 
what shall be its destiny ? Shall these 
walls, of which stone after stone has-been 
laid amidst the prayers and tears of its 
friends, ever totter and fiiU to the ground; 
or shall they continue to be enlarged rmtil 
the world shall be blessed by their influ- 
ence ? Shall the hght, which has been 
kindled within them, ever be extinguished; 
or shall it burn on more brightly forever? 
Is the popularit)' it has gained, of that 
ephemeral character, which is j^urchased 
for a small price, and is of small value 
when bought; or is it but the germ of' tiiat 
future and greater M^orth which is to be 
enl;irgi-d and matured for ages to tome.- — 
Will Union University, like most of the 
oiher colleges of our country, live onlv 
through the short summer of its existence, 
' and die when the summer is over ? Or 
will it gather strength from revolving 



years, and*successftilly withstand the win--'[ 
try storms which may beat ag-ainst it? ' 
lliat %er may know how to guard 
against the downfall and to secure the 
stability of our school, let me direct your i 
attention to | 

THE MEANS Or FERJI.VNEXCT IN AMEBIC AN 
: . ■ '• . COLLEGES. 

I need not tell you that no college can | 
be 'enduring without an adequate pecuniary 
hasls. : 

The erection and support of a college 
rec].uires an immense expenditure of. mon- . 
ey. Without it buildings cannot be erec- 
ted, nor . Professors employed. With | 
money alone can a library be procured, 
and apparatus bought. A school, worthy 
of the name of college, much less of the 
more honorable name of University, can- 
not.be even begun wdthout a very large 
outlay, of money: and when the com- j 
mencemcnt is made, a continual and large 
expenditure is still required to sustain it. 

The people generally have little concep- 
tion of the amount of capital which is 
neccssijry to put into operation, and to 
support, an institution, of high order.— 
They suppose it necessary, only that a 
school should be darned, believing that it 
will then sustain itself. They have accor- 
dingly been liberal in the n.ising of funds 
for the endowment of colleges, but, after- 
wards, their liberality has general!}' 
ceased, because they have believed that 
money was no longer necessary. This has 
been one cause of the failure of our col- 
leges, — their being commenced, and then 
left to live of themselves. They flourished, 
perhaps," for a year or two; but their little 
capital was soon exhausted, and, as a nat- 
ural consequence, they went down. 

It is indeed true that a college may 
continue to live, independently of the lib- 
erality of the people, when its original 
endowment fund is sufficiently large. But 
let us enter into an estimate of the amount 
which is necessary to secure its entire in- 
dependence, setting down every item at 
the very lowest price. In the Srst place, 
suitable buildings and grounds cannot cost 
less than li&20,000. Then a Kbrary, wor- 
thy of the name, must be worth at least 
©15,000. And, putting down the neces- 
sary aparatus for the study of Philosophy 
and Astronomy and Chemistry at another 
815,000, there will be in all 5?50,000 
which must be laid out in the A-ery com- 
mencement. And there ought, also, to 
"be at least $5(^,000 invested as a perma- 
nent fund, the annual interest of which 
should be appropriated, in connection with 
tuition fees, to the payment of Professors' 



salaries. According, therefore, to the 
very lowest calculation which it is possible 
for us to raak«, there is required a capital 
of $100,000 for any college to exist and 
flourish. It may live for a few years with 
a smaller capital than this; _biit I venture 
the assertion that no college ever has been 
known to be, or ever can be, permanent, 
with a smaller fund. If it is smaller, not 
only the interest, but the principal must 
be used in the necessary expenditures for 
maintaining the college: and thus, by be- 
ing gradually infringed upon, that which 
was designed to be a fennanent fund, will 
be consumed; and then, of course, the 
school must die. Every college, there- 
fore, in order to live and prosper, must 
either possess a capital as large as I have 
named, or must receive annual contribu- 
tions from some other source, either reli- 
gious or benevolent. It cannot continue, 
for an}' length of time, without an annual 
income, either from interest on invested 
capita], or from some other source. There 
is not a college, of any respectability, in 
the world, that relies upon tuition fees 
alone for the payment of its teachers and 
its other necessary expenses. 

That we may form some conception of 
the expense of erecting and sustaining- 
schools, and that we may know what we 
[ arc doing in attempting to plant a colleg-e 
' here, I have taken some trouble to find 
' otit, as nearly as possible, what have been 
the expenditures, and what is the perma- 
nent fund, or« annual income^ of some of 
the best colleges m the country. 

'And first I will mention the University 
of Virginia, which I have little doubt is 
one of the best schools in the Uftited 
States. It is estimated that the cost of its 
buildings, library and other fixtures was 
; not less than half a miUion of dollars. — ■ 
Its annual income from the State is $15- 
000, which is equal to an invested fund 
\ of something more than $200,000 at six 
percent. So that the pecuniary basis of 
Virginia University may be set down at 
•S 700,000. Washington college, in Vir- 
ginia, has an annual income of $3,000, 
from the liberality of the illustrious found- 
er whose name it bears besides a produc- 
tive fund of about $200,000, the interest 
of which is annually appropriated to its 
welfare. The University of South Caro- 
lina, besides its magnificent buildings, 
' reared by the State, receives annually 
from the State Treasury, a grant of about 
$15,000. The University of Alabama is 
worth about $500,000, the interest of a 
large .part of which is used for its support. 
In the North also, ire find colleges of 



CLASSIC UNION. 



the highest character possessing endoir- 1 SHOULD MI^-ISTEES^TF^ THE GOSPEL BE 



men ts equally rich. Harvard is so old | 
that it is impossible tu form an estimate of j 
all her expenses. She has however an 
annual income of about $30,000, equa 
to half a million, at six per cent. 'At one 
time the State of Kew York made a grant 
to Union College of §400,000, though 
she was rich before. Brown University, 
the pride of the East, is known to possess 
large resources; yet her friends have lately 
been pouring thousands into her treasury, 
to extend her usefulness and enhance her 



power. 



Tlie time has not yet arrived when all 
answer this question'in the aiEimativc.-^ 
1 ! It is time the number who reply in the 
negative are daily becoming less and less. 
We have been 'amused in listening to the 
objections, urged by some of our good 
meaning brethren , against educating 
young men for the ministry. V/e. -wil; 
mention a feiv and ofiiT some remarks in 
reply. 

The first is, "It Piialces them proud.'' 
This, we reply, is not true. It is contrary 



From these statistics we may learn a | ^ common sense and contrary to the word 
useful lesson in regard to the cost of col- °^ ^od. We will admit that a mere smat- 
ieges. It is true that I am not an advo- j t«"°ff "^ learning may have a tendency 
cate for such expensive outlays of money ! 'o V"^^ ^^P ^"^I'^^y aud.cause one to assume 
as have been made in some of "the Eastern ' airs unbecoming a minister of the meek 
States. The expenditure of several hun- and lowly Jesus. Some youn? men ea- 
dred thousand dollars in buildings is a 



useless consumption of money; a.T.d the 
payment of over-grown salaries to teach- 
ers is equally useless. But still a contin- 
aal expenditure of money, derived from 
other sources than tlie regular income of 
tuition fees, is necessary to the usefulness 
and stabihty of a college; and I doubt not 
that S; 100,000 is as small a sum as can 
erect an institution of high character, and 
render it permanent. 

FOEEIGS- PHRASES. 
The ridiculous custom of interlarding 
articles with foreign words, is justl}' ridi- 
culed by the Common School Journal. — 
For our part, when we hear a preacher 
talk much in his sermon about the origi- 
nal Greek, or Hebrew, or see an editor 
drag in French and Latin on every occa- 
sion, we at once set si;ch men down as 
laboring under the double aiHiction of 
ignorance and vanity. With such persons, 
a medley or mixture is a melange; a fray is 
nothing short of a melee, and \hB, select are 
not the chosen, but the elite. Disputants 
do not dilfer enlirehj but toio ccclo, and 
they never begin again, but de novo, or 
as some goslings prefer to say, ab ovo. — 
The most common items of news are in- 
terlarded with such barbarisms. Thus 
the President is never going to Washing- \ 
ton, but he is en route fur the city. No re- 



ter school and remain just long enough 
to enable them to look out the word 
"BdptviO' in the Lexicon, and understand 
the difference between plus and mlnun, and 
then go forth in the woi-ld entertaining 
tlie most extravagant notions of the ex- 
tent of their acQuirements and the pi'o- 
fundlty of their erudition. Such are ev- 
er ready to made a flourish of their learn- 
ing and they never fail to attempt an exhi- 
bition of it on all occaaons. But it is far 
otherwise with, a truly educated man. — 
He who has spent several years in hard 
study, has seen enough of the boundless 
fields of knowcdge which are still untrod- 
den before him, to render him humble 
and modest. He fjels how meagre are 
his attainments compared with the vast 
treasures of truth on w'hich he has barely 
been permitted to gaze at a distance. He 
is ready to exclaim with ISTewtoc, "I have 
only gathered a pebble from tie shore 
while the limitless ocean of truth is still 
unfathomed before me." The idea that 
learning renders men proud and self- con- 
ceited is not only contrary to reason and 
observation but is also contradicted by the 
teachings cf the Scriptures. Solomon 
says, "Kfool is wiser in his own conceit 
than ten men who can render a reasan;" 
and Paul in speaking of the qualifications 
of a mmister, saj-s, "He must not be a no- 
ice less he be puffed up." Another ob- 



mark can now be made hy the way or uiljection is that educated ministers preach 



passing, but it must be en imssant. A 
risipg of the people is no longer a mob or 
a rebellion, but an emuie. Some years ago 
an editor discovered that nous verrons was 
a more expresssive phrase than we shall 
see; and now every village editor, after 
giving his view of national affairs, gath- 
ers himstlf up in his armchair and utters 
the doubtful prophecy, "nozis verrons." 



fi'om their learning and not from the dic- 
tates of the Spirit. In reply to this we 
would enquire, is it not better to preach- 
from knowledge than from ignorance?^- 
V>'"e are not of those who believe that 
mmisters are now inspired to utter reva- 
lations direct from Heaven with which 
their own intellects have notLini- to do. — 



The truths ihcj utter must be learned 
from the word of God, from his pro\idence 
arrd from his dealings with the children of 
men in past ages. . The Holy Spirit never 
compassionates the indolence of any b}' 
suggestiug.directly those ideas which might 
have been attained by the exertion of their 
own minds. No man can prearii to tl-.e 
edification and profit of his hearers with- 
out previous preparation and study, and 
he ov.-es it to the Author of his intellect 
to eisrt itto the utmost extent of its ca- 
pacity in the all important work of pro- 
claiming his truth. Agfin we hue heard 
it ob>cted by elderly ministers whose 
early adva,ntages for education were some- 
whatJimited, that if the churches were 
supplied with an educated ministry, they 
would no longer have any use for such 
men as themselves. Such an objection 
however, is never heard from tho.^e vene- 
rable fathers in the church,'who have al- 
ways exhibited the true christian spirit — 
that spirit which was manifested by John 
the Baptist when in reply to those who 
told him that the disciples of Jesus made 
and baptized more converts than he, n.i-ek- 
ly replied, "He n'iu.'?t increase but I must 
decrease." Such men rejoice to see the 
rising ministry free from the embarrass- 
ments under which they have suffered, 
and enjoying the advantages of superior 
intellectual cultivation. 

No one v;ho truly desires to be useful 
need fear that he cannot find ample room 
for the exercise of all the capacities which 
he posscses. As we beared an excellent 
brother remark not long since "dimes are 
not at all depreciated in value because 
there are dollars ia circulatic)h."' The 
true genuine silver coin wiH' always be 
worth its full value wTie'ther'-tlrat -coin be 
large or small. But we would inquire if 
this objection against educating young- 
men for the ministry, does not spriu'^ fi'um 
the pride of the human heait. You will 
find as many who are proud of their ii'- 
noranco as you will of. thejse who are proud 
of their knowdedge, and we are unable 
to tell which of the two is the u^ore con- 
tejnptable. E. 

We had yesterda}' the pleasure of beirif 
shaved with a Jenny Lind razor,by a Jeni.y 
Lind barber, scented with Jeni.y Lind co- 
leigne, combed with a Jenny Lind comb, 
brushed witli a Jenny Lind brush, washed 
in a Jenny Lind bowl, wiped wiih a Jenny 
Lind towel. After which we put on our 
Jenny Lind hat, walked into a Jeni.y Lind 
resturant and partook of Jenny Liiid saus- 
ages. Then we took. up a Jenny Lind pn- 
per read a Jenny Lind editorial, smoLed'a 
Jenny Lind cigar, fell into a profound Jen- 
ny Liiid reverie.— ^Y. 0. Courier. 



CLASSIC UNION'. 



FEMALE EDUGATION". 
Much is said and written on the subject 
of female education at the present time. 
Indeed we can scarcely open a periodical 
of any description without our eyes being- 
greeted by an article under this caption. 
But after all, the importance of the sub- 
ject, though readily admitted, is not prac- 
tically felt and acted on as it should be, 
oihervvise we should not have in our midst 
so many girls, in their early teens, who 
liave left school and are don'e with study 
forever. They have been hurried through 
the various branches of education while 
their minds were yet too immature to 
comprehend or take any interest in them, 
and just as they begin to be old eiiough 
to study with profit they are turned out 
into society, to spend those precious years 
between six'een and twenty, years by far 
the most valuable in the life of man or 
woman, in the decoration of their persons 
and in idle chit chat which the utmost 
stretch of courtesy could not dignify with 
the name of conversation. No wonder 
that cultivated gentlemen feel obliged to 
lay aside all literary topics, all abstract 
reasoning and metaphysical inquiry, and 
descend to the merest trifles, when at- 
tempting to converse with ladies. How 
rarely do we find alady whohas prosecu- 
ted her studies far enough to acquire a 
genuine taste for intellectual pleasures, 
and those only are truly educated whose 
desire for knowledge has become strong 
enough to impel them to seek its gratifica- 
tion from every source within their reach, 
during the remainder of their lives. If 
girls could ajways remain in their teens 
and be as free from the cares and respon- 
sibilities of life as they now are, it might 
be sufSeient for them to" understand the 
ruysterios of ihe toilet, and know how to 
talk nonsense prettily. But theirs is a high 
and holy mission. Duties will ere long 
devolve upon them, in the discharge of 
which they will need all the advantages 
which well trained minds and extensive 
knowledge can confer. They will soon 
become absolute sovereigns in an empire 
more important than any whose govern- 
ment is ever swayed by kings or princes. 
The mother and mistress in a family is 
is not only a sovereign in her little realm, 
but the legislative and executive power 
are placed without restriction in her hands. 
She is lawgiver, judge, jury and execu- 
tioner; and if the affairs of her kingdom 
are n^;t wisely administered, administered 
according to the principles of strict and 
impartial justice, who can tell the amount 
of moral injury inflicted upon that little 



community from which all other comrau- 
ties take their rise — who can tell -how 
much of the crime, injustice and misery 
that afflict the society at large, may be 
traced to the mal-adminisiration of injudi- 
cious and incompetent mothers. Many a 
mother, with the best intentions and the 
strongest desires to discharge her duties 
faithfully, has been heart-broken by see- 
ing her children break- away from the re- 
straints of her influence, and run in the 
paths of folly and ruin; and all this was 
symply because she had not strength of 
mind and force of character enough to ac- 
quire a permanent ascendency over them. 
Children naturally respect most those 
whom they regard as most capable of giv- 
ing them instruction, and in order that 
a mother's influense may be all that the 
Creator designed it should be, her son 
must feel even at the end of his college 
course that his mother is his equal in 
knowledge. I once knew a mother who 
left school at fifteen and plunged into the 
gayeties of fashionable life. At twenty, 
she married, and by that time she had 
forgotten the little she had acquired at 
school. In a few years her son, an active 
enterprising boy, might have been seen 
every morning with his satchel of books 
on his shoulder w<5nding his way to the 
village school. When he became puzzled, 
as such youngsters always do, with the 
mysteries of Geography and Arithmatic, 
he was asked one day by a school-mate 
why he did not get his mother to assist 
him at home about his lessons, "I do ask 
her," he replied, while a bitter and con- 
temptuous expression came over his coun- 
tenance, -'but she always says she dont 
know; my mother dont know any thing; 
I believe she is a fool." That remark and 
that expression of countenance, made a 
lasting impression upon my mind, and I 
pitied the mother that "had made such an 
impression upon her own child. And well 
I might, for in a few short months she 
was widowed, and the control of this boy 
devolved on her alone. As she had failed 
to inspire him with any respect /or her 
knowledge, it is . not strange that he re- 
fused to be guided by her judgfjiient. — 
She soon felt that she had' no influence 
over him, and she saw him rapidly plung- 
ing into allthose habits which she most 
dreaded; and before he had attained the 
age of manhood, his misconduct had 
brought his ddating mother to a prema- 
ture grave. 

To contrast with this I have in my mind 
another picture. It is that of a mother 
whose name Jind place of residence Ij 



could give but that she and her son, of 
whom I shall speak, are still living and 
might object to such publicity. This lady 
was thoroughly educated — an extensive 
course of study had developed and 
strengthened all the faculties of her mind. 
She had acquired such a taste for literary 
pursuits that after her marriage a certain 
portion of every day was redeemed from 
domestic cares and carefully devoted to 
the acquisition of knowledge and the cul- 
tivation of her own mind. In a few years 
a little student was seen seated by her 
side. His first lessons of instruction were 
conveyed to his mind in the tender tones 
of maternal affection. He loved knowl- 
edge because it was imparted by his moth- 
er, and he loved and respected that moth- 
er the more because she was capable of 
gratifying his love of knowledge. The 
farther she led him in the paths of science, 
the more profound was his reverence for 
her. She prepared him for college with- 
out the aid of any other instructors, and 
when he entei'ed the University she was 
still the companion of his studies. She 
could aid him to construe the obscure pas- 
sage in the classics or solve the int.iicate 
problem in mathematics. The pleasure 
he derived from the acquisition of every 
new truth was doubled by the thought 
that his mother would share that pleasure 
with him. The charm of her society se- 
cured him from all temptation to seek the 
companionship of the idle and vicious. — 
Her influence over him was without limit, 
and she knew how to turn it to advantage. 
That mother too is now widowed, and that 
son is occupying a prominent position in 
society. He is honored and his opinions 
are quoted with respect by hundreds of 
his fellow citizens, but still his mother is 
the object of the same veneration with 
which she inspired him in his childhood. 
He seems to regard her with a reverence 
inferior only to that which he feels for the 
Supreme Being. When all mothers shall 
be like this mother, then will the benefits 
of female education be fully realized — 
then will the human race be elevated in 
llie scale of intellectual and moral being 
to a degree of which we can at present 
form no conception. 

Mrs. E. M. E. 



The London Fair.— The receipts of the 
exhibition by the time it closes, the 1 1 th 
October, will amount to about £400,000. 
Of this immense sum, one half, it is calcu- 
lated, will defray all the charges connected 
with the building, and the government 
say to this sum, only have the commis- 
sioners any claim, and that the surplus be- 
longs to them. 



CLASSIC L'NION. 



PROGRESS OF REPUBLICANISil. j in tlie hearts of tlie French. They abolished 

The rapid progress of republican principles I regal po^ver and declared France a Eepublic, 

but she was not then prepared to enjoy this boon. 



C'xcilfs the admiration of every philanthropic 
heart. There seems to be, throughout the world, 
a deep and widening cuiTent of thought flow- 
ing tlirough the popular mind, before which 
regal dj'uasties vanish as the mist before the 
morning sun, The car of revolution, crushing 
oppression and diffusing the principles of uni- 
versal freedom, lias rolled over many nations. — 
Kings, who hitherto swayed the absolute sceptre, 
have been forced to humiliating concessions, 
and those who have refused the demands of their 
people have been made to breast the tempestu- 
ous storms of popular fury until tliey have been 
swept from their thrones; unless by foreign 
force, tliey have momentarily subdued those 
subjects -which are destined to hurl monarchy to 
atoms. The entrancing charm of ignorance, 
■which gave imperialism its power, has been 
broken, and tj'rants tremble at their prospects, 
as they cast their eyes along the vista of time, 
and see the world steadily advancing toward 
that goal of perfection, where the sun of knowl- 
edge shall illumine not only the tinseled heights 
of nobility, but also the plains of peasantry and 
serfdom, rendering liberty, now the song of the 
Poet and theme of the Orator, the practical joy 
of all men.' The impetus which was given to 
those principles, during Elizabeth's reigu, has 
not been impaired by the lapse of ages. On the 
contrary, it has continued to increase v.-iih every 
successive generation. This "occidental star" 
of England was surrounded by bright constel- 
lation of scholars and statesmen, who, through 
the instrumentality of education in.spired a spir- 
it of liberty iutha heai-ts of their countociacn. — 
This spirit plainly evinced itself during tliot7.'o 
succeeding reigns, when the people asserted and 
triumphantly maintained their rights, until 
Charles the tii-st expiated his crimes in front cf 
the royal palace. Then monarchy was abolish- 
ed and a republic instituted which might have 
remained to the present day, had it not been for 
th^, recreant traitcr Cromwell. He basely fub- 
verted the freedom of his country and entailed 
upon it the evils of arbitrary power. Britons 
democracy was thus checked, but it wps not 
annihilated. For since tl'.is era, th;;t fastened 
island of the sea has tranquilly rcmorlellcd its 
ancient institutions, until rojo.l republicanism 
pervades them all. When the shackles of aibi- 
trary power again fettered the nations, the tree 
of liberty was transferred to America's wilds, 
■where it has flourished and is nojv r-shib!tinr;iu 
exuberant abundanr-p its ripen <y-l fiuits. It './as' 



for as she dethroned' her King, she decreed that 
her deities should be liberty, equality and reason. 
Soon Napoleon, the blood-thirsty incarnation of 
despotism, ruled her with an iron sway and 
when he had inscribedhis ambition in characters 
of blood ujion the tablets of his counti'y's histo- 
ry he was formally elevated to the throne. — 
Then followed the most galling oppression, 
mingled with a series of revolutious which 
though productive of no real good, yet evinced 
the fact, that the rights of man were compre- 
hended. For years during the rein of Louis 
Fhillipe there ■^^•as no sudden outbreaking of 
popular sentiment, but it remained silent only 
gathering st;ongth: and v,'hen he attemtped to 
muzzle the press and to fetter speech, itbursted 
forth in peals of thunder ■which shook the throne 
to its base and hurled the tyrant from his seat 
of power. France then regained her liberties 
and notwithstanding the reacticuary movement 
which have since taken place, she still remains 
firm upon the basis of Republicanism. 

■W'hcu she threw ofl: the yoke of arbitraiy po^w- 
er all Eiirope was convulsed and the democratic 
principle advanced with unparalleled velocity. 
The pompous display even ol the old Austrian 
emperor could no longer delude his subjects. — 
They demanded an enfranchising constitution 
and as he dare not refuse, it was granted. This 
was an unmistakeablc evidence of llie suprema- 
cy of the people and it flew from kingdom to 
king''om nnd from Stale tc State. Germany rose 
in arms and became constitutional; Sicily sepe- 
ra!ed from Naples and Naples herself accom- 
plished r. coustitiitioual revolution; H'^ugar^-'s 
plpins streamed -withpaU-blic blood, shedin the 
cause of freedom; Rome the eternal city, which 
hns s^. long been grouud to the dust by the most 
odicus desnotisni, r-sertt-fl its ludependcrcc and 
would have maintrined it, had not Francs — 
treacherous France, sb-uck a deptli blow atthe 
Republic. 

Amid all this crumbling of thrones and re- 
modeling of governments there was only t^wo 
powers in all Europe which remai)ic'l unmoved 
— England upon the basis of royal liberty,- and 
Russia upon that of nrilitary power. All the 
otlicis shook with coa^'^llsive tiirues which made 
their rulers tremble with fear. 

Such events as these demonstrate the rapid 
progress of republican principles in those coun- 
tries which have for ages been chained to a de- 
gra-Jing vassjlefo, and they presage the bright 
planted on New KngVau'"''s s' rih; roc>:s, >--t it i rf"""'"' of tUrt era, when every vcstnge of ab.so- 
has flourisbe*! until its buup-hs row e'-'end from ' lutlim s"-"U b" snnDiila<-ed, and -when ths war 
the sloraiy coast of tHe enst, tnthegilded s]'"'?s ! •'ruDi sh>rll thrab r- longer, and tl'e battle fla." 
of the west, and from the far north, "•<- here the I shall be furled in the pari ian'ent .il" man, "the. 
palaces of nature have throned cterr'ty in i^-'y ; feder."tiru o*' tie ■world." 

ialls of cold sublimity,"' t- tb". souh. "• '— -^ ■ Ttnni~'-l>ft t)>e pride of evr-^'y /..;»«>rcaii thai 
'blossoms, fruits and flo^v.'erst-^gelbcrri<-o,ivr.l all "'t T.'iuutry 1--- he'^n tWi b--- "-in o'' li"-l\t.. whi'-H 
the year in gay confusion lies." Tlie progiess j has guided tb^seiir.tions in t'" cpaC - o£ freedom, 
of republican principles in this free and happy i and that she still flourishes under t^-e gloriou."- 



al horizon, but they exert no influence upon the 
vast assemblage ■who lie enshrouldcd in the dark- 
est clouds of ignorance'^ If then, the permanen- 
cy and prosperity of our republican institutions 
depends upon the diffusion of knowledge, ■<vlio 
can view the numerous litsrai-y icstitutions of 
which ■we can boast, contemplate theii- glorious 
purpose and see them thronged v>^ith tliose in 
the vrgorof youth and manhood, without feeling 
his bosom thrill with raptuous delight 'i 

T. 



[For the Classic Union.] 
OUR COUNTRY. 

'VTe live in anage^of inve.st'gatiou and ad- 
vancement and one in ■nhich the Arts and ScieU' 
ces, ■with electric speed are being carried for- 
ward. We live in a land well suited to the de- 
velopcmeut of the human intellect in all its 
bearings and compai-ed with other nations our 
country, like Ajan amid the many thousands 
Greeks, stands pre-eminent 

Although Greece and Rome could once boast 
of their power and gorgeous magnificence, their 
breathing marbles, their sublime temples — their 
unrivaled degauce, a!l esliibiting marks of trans- 
cendent greatness yet they have been excelled, 
their glory, has been suipassed. Our country 
can justly boast of far higher advancements in 
the arts and sciences than any of Uie ancient 
nations. 

Like the towering light-house upon the sky 
piercing clifl:', sending forth its beams of light to 
direct the tempest-tossed vessel amidst the swell- 
ing waves of the angry deep to the secure liaven, 
Ammca.stnndsasa beacon light tothebcnighi<aJ 
nations of eai-th. V^e can justly pride ourselves 
as having set an exaniple of justice, mercy and 
patriotism, which should be the leading charar,- 
teristic of every government in all countries and 
in eve:y age. Tlicse piinciplcs should ever live 
and be engraven ■with the point of a diamond 
upon the cresent of our national eschuchcon, to 
be read by coming g.euerations and guide them 
in the pathway to human glory and happiness. — 
Our nation's independence is a jewel wortJi all 
the blood and treasures which it took to pur. 
chase it j>nd it becomes us to transmit lhisprii;c- 
less gem untarnished to the coming geuenitiou 
with the solemn injunction to guaixl it wilii un- 
tiring vigilance and sufl'er not the gangrene of 
party spirit or local interests to Corrode its sub- 
stance -or dim its lustre, 

D. n. n. 



land has ever been viewed with wonder and fear 
by all the European powers. In the very infan- 
cy of our Republic, England witlihor arms upon 
land and sea poured in upon us, biit though the 
contest was fierce and bloody, yet wc eventually 
triumphed and the thirteen stars and stripes 
■were unfurled to the breeze proclaiming to the 
world that Ameaica is free. Victory perching 
■upon our etaaiacd ookiadted » ^iiitof libot^ 



canopy c'' re;iubli-pil3n-. uot-vithstB.udin.'r''ih--. 
pob'tic.il agitatiors -lii-Si hp.V" tl-'o^vtcni^v- to 
burst asunder the t;^ -whir-h bind ns tnfsiethev. 
This results from th.e diffusion of kno-wledge, 
for that- intellectual culture is pssential to the 
enjoj'mcnt of political frcvidom is demo;->strated 
upon every page of national history. Under 
tyranny a few bright luminaries dazzling with 
Qiav'iaii-K^ljjLatX) msf da3i> i&iio Ute ioteUeute- J 



A Good JIan's Wisii. — I freely confess to you 
that I would rather, when I am laid down in ihe 
grave, liave s-mi" mo in .Ms manhood stand 
over me .and say: ' There lies one who was a 
real friend to irr, rnd privately warned me of 
the dangers "f t^'D young; no one knew it, but 
he aidjd ni" in ths liivc of npcd; I owe what 1 
rtmtohim;" o wo-ultl r.^^tl'CT.have seme widow, 
".-■f>..-4!"^'-L»'-^iti-.-"' ), trlHng her children.-— 
" Ti.'';:e js. TC/»VjfueT\'l a- 1 mine. lie visited nie 
ir\.-^v affliction, -r. *: found ycfu, my win, au eni- 
ployer, »t«1 vou, my daughter, a happy Jionie in 
a Jii-tu»'us farailv." I say, 1 would raticT ihat 
such persons should stand at my grave, Ijiau to 
have, erected over it the most beautiful sculptur* 

ed monument of I'ari.'^ian orjtalian marble ^ 

The heart's broken utterance of reflections vt 
past kindness, and the tears of gj-at.'.''id nie,Tiory 
shed upon the grave, arc nioro valuable, ia aj/ 
estimaiion, thsji the rnort oosUy coTurtavli ovw 
roared —i>f. 8)um>. ' ' 



f.8 



OLA S SIC UNION. 



THE TERMS. | the victim of so terrible a malady. Tlie 

There seems to be, practically, consid- , regular recurrence of this disease is some- 
erable doubt whether the terms of christi- ! times prevented by the excitement atten- 
anity w.ll be hereafier strictly adhered to ! , . ,, • i /. i- x- ■ i 

S .,.. , , •^ T'l 1 ■ uant upon the arrival 01 some distmo-uish- 

in admitting men to heaven. Jilse, how:. ^ o 

can we account for il, that close fisted, edpreacher, but a relapse is almost cer- 
avaricious and dishonest people dare to 
liope that they will be happy hereafter. — 
Of course they do not believe the require- 
ment to love our neighbors as ourselves 
will be insisted upon. And if the terms 
are to gi\'e wny for these persons, why 
no- also for liars, adulterers, drunkards- 
and murderers? llenac we .^ee, that 
eiiher the Bible, or all such people^ will 
have to be moJilied and improved consid- 
erably. Which shall it be ?— [3'. T. Or- 
c/a '. 

It is related that Geor£;-e Washington, 
when a small lad, was struck with delight 
and astonishment in discovering in a flow- 
er bed in the garden his own name grown 
up in green plants, the seeds of which 
his father had thus sown. To every 
young man we would sa}', you are sow- 
ing seed which will spring up -ere long 
and exhibit in characters of living green 
faithful duplicates of yourselves. Every 
act you now put forth, and every word 
you now utter,- is a seed which will spring- 
up in the opinions that others form-of you 
and will go to make a part of your repu- 
laLion which will be read not only- by 
yourselves, but the world. Though the 
seed may seem to you so small as to be 
scarcely worth your attention, yet the 
■plant which springs from it may be of 
rank 'and overshadowing growth. Be- 
ware, then, what seed you sow. 

E. 



SUNDAY SICIOfESS. 
This is one of tbe most mysterious dis- 
eases which flesh is heir to. It seizes the 
unfortunate individual just after break- 
fast on the Sabbath morning and lasts till 
a, short time before the dinner hour, and 
then returns during the ringing of the 
first bell for evening service. It is not re- 
garded as a dangerous disease, so far as 
the mortal hfe is concerned, but it is a 
slow consumption to the spiritual life. — 
■Tiie paroxysms are never known to occur 
during the week, except it be on the night 
of the prayer meeting or on those days 
on which the stated meetings of -the church 
are held. Those who are afRioted with 
this disease are almost sure to have an 
attack on every such occasion. Fortun- 
ately, however, the paroxysms subside in 
a very few hours, and the individual who 
is their subjecl may he seen promenading 
the public streets, attending to business or 
in search of pleasure, and no one would 
jJUSMct, £i-,jm his appearance, that lie was 



tain to occur as soon as the unusual stimu- 
lous is witjidrawn. We would call atten- 
tion of the benefactors-of mankind to this 
subje'ct, and beg that they would strive to 
discover a remedy for a disease so alarm- 
ingly prevalent and so fatal in its conse- 
quence. E. 

[ForlUe Classic Union.] 
A STAB. 

My brotli"!- n\y brother 

Vriien I think that thou art gone, 

In life thrix' Pi'eu]S no other 
AVith a spirit like thiue own ! 

O, thou wert meek and gentle 

And simple as a child. 
Yet noVjIe in thine artlessness 

And thy sereneuess mild. 

The storms of earth came not to thee 

Eut like a high, pure star. 
Thou movedst o'er tlie constant strife 

T/ilU blessings near and far. 

And many, wh3n the clouds were 'reft 

Sighing for thy release. 
Looked up at thy sweet beam and said. 

How beautiful is peace ! 

Alas! that when the world's so rife 
Of bitterness and hate, 
, Vriien brother, brotlier calls to strife. 
Thy light so soon lias set ! 

But no ! — Ihou livest still for earth 

Such glmy cannot die ! 
In memory's sacred firmament 

Thou gioriest still on high. 

And ma,ny, musing 'neath thy light 

Shall catch the gentle tire, 
'To bless and to be bless'd — like thee. 
To nobler life aspire. 

Shine on thou pure and lovely star ! 

To many a heaving breast 
Tliou art a beacon of high hope. 

Of peace and love and rest. 

Tlvo' lonely now the paths I trod 

"When thou wert by my side. 
Yet by my heart so blest a fate 

Thou cau'st not be denied. 

Bat this I ask — v.hen I shall quit 

This f'cM of toil and strife, 
7'hou mays't be near to light my way 

Into tlie gafc^s of life. 

NxlOill. 

September 2'Gth 18.ll. 



:-i 



EoA.un can hs had ia private faij.illes 
from-$o to ■1?9 psr nicnth. The !v,;;;ibsr 
of students that came in st the first of the 
session rendfred it somewhat difficult to 
obtain, but several persons have kindly 
opened their doors, making auirile -provi- 
sion for the present. Arrangements are 
being m-ade to guard i.n3' contingency for 
th.c future by putting up two large board- 
ing houses. Our friends at a distance can 
bring on their sons and daughters without 
any' fear for "the staff of life." 



MOVI^-G A MOUNTAIN. 
The Bible tells us that if we have faith, 
we shall remove mountains, as if the mov- 
ing of mountains were the last of physical 
impossibilities. But if we believe what 
the Hungarian Gazette, quoted a Geneva 
correspondent of the Newark Daily Ad- 
vertiser says, there is a mountain in Tran- 
sylvania which has moved itself. It 
seems that on the 13th day of August last 
— by the way, that was the very day on 
which the great earthquake occurred in 
Italy — the mountain " Geleztas" in the 
county of Glausenburg, Transylvania 
moved towards the " Vengikes" — both 
mountains being from eight hundred to 
one thousand feet in height. The town 
"Mongorokezck" which was, before the 
movement, an hour's walk fi-om the last 
named mountain, is now^ scarcely eighty 
paces distant from it, and is threatened 
momentarily with burial. This movement 
lasted from the afternoon of the loth to 
the noon of the 16th. It occasioned in- 
calculable losses; all the plains at the foot 
and around the moved mountain, with 
their ungathered harvest, being ^entirely 
ruined. In this place, now appear rocks 
of groat height and the features of land- 
scape are completely changed. Ho one 
of the old owners can recognize his fields, 
Waters have broken out in the whole vi- 
cinity, which is converted into a rocky 
marsh. The population of the village 
some four or five hundred in number fled 
to their next neighbors. — Eveninri Post. 

Bors! Do You Hear.? — The Learned 
Blacksmith saj-s: Boys, did you ever think 
that this great world, with all its wealth 
and woe, with all its mines and mountains, 
oceans, seas and rivers, with all its shipping, 
steamboat, railroads and magnetic tele- 
graphs, with all its millions of darkly grop- 
ing men, and all the science and progress 
of ages, will soon be given over to the 
boys of the present age — boys.like you as- 
sembled in your school-rooms, or playing 
without them, on both sides of the Allan- 
tic. Believe it and look abroad on your 
inheritance, and get ready to enter upon 
its possession. The. Kings, Presidents, 
Governors, Statesmen, Philosophers, Min- 
isiefs, Teachers, Men of the future, all are 
boys, whose feet, like yours, cannot reach 
the floor, when seated on the benches up- 
on which they are learning to master the 
mono.s3'llables of their respective lan- 



Dobbs says that he has always noticed 
that the slig'ht acquaintance of. agreat man 
is generally a person that the .'great man 
sho-hts. 



CLASSIC UIs^ION. 



S9 



Dr. B., tliat all cliildren dying in infancy," 
I both in Christian and heathen lands, atiII 
; be saved ? Mr. _C., what kind of serpent 
I do you -suppose it was that tempted Eve to 
eat the forbidden fvait ? IIow could a per- 
How- different from our Lord's usual \ fectly holy being yield" to any temptation ? 
familiar and condescending manner in j Mr. "D., L have been wanting a good while 



[For the S'e'w York EvaBgc-list.] 

Wa.VT IS THAT TO THEE V FOLLOW 

THOU ilL. 

BV KEY. DK. mniPHEEY. 



conversing with his disciples, was this la 
conic reply to Peter. - Never was any 
"master in Isreal'' so ready to encourage 
the inquisitiveness of his pupils, or to an- 
swer any proper oaicstion, by whomsoever 
asked, as was the Great Teacher. But 



■et your opinion upon the question 
whether more of mankind will ba.. savec 
than lost "? I wond;;r whether all the stars 
are inhabited ? AVhat is your opinion, Mr. 
E. '? And whether by sinful or hcjly be- 
Why did Cyrv.s" order just nine ami 



he never gave the least encouragement to \()ierifi/ Lnives to bs restored to Ezra^when 
a vain curiosity, even in the most devoted 1 he returned from Babylon to rebuild the 
of his followers. | temple at Jerusalem ? How many devils 

It was in one of his last interviews with i were there in the legion that entered into 
his disciples, that after charging Peter, j the swine-? 

" Feed my sheep, feed my lambs," and Theseareafew of the thousand ques- 
" signifying to him by what deaih he j tions of no practical use, which are put to 
should idorify God," that Peter, noticing ' ministers by their people, in pastoral visits 
how closely John clave to his Master, ab- 
ruptly put the question, " Lord, what shall 
this man do f " How is John to be em- 



directly to the object of his search. Much 
less would he waive 'the subject, and as 
much as say to his kind friend, "It may 
be as you apprehend, but I don't wish to 
hear anything about it at present. I am 
too busy with other mattei's to attend to 
this." 'iso, no, n'evcr.! But here are 
scores, and hundreds of men, who have no 
title to the heavenly inheritance, and are 
every day in danger of losing it forever, 
and when the}' are urged to come and -ac- 
cept the title which is offered them " with- 
out money and without price," instead of 
closing v\'ith the offer at once, they have a 
hundred questions to -ask just as irrelevant 
as tliat, "Lord, are there few that be 
.saved V Alas ! what will they do ' ' when 
God taketh -awav their soute V' 



becE 



DREADFUL MISTAKE. 

EY KEV. DK. CnEEYEB. 

It would be nothing strange, should it 
be found in the great day of trial, thai this 
r,r>'e.was distina-uished as an age of seh- 



thev cannot civilly avoid talking 

c.'joul religion; and to whom our Savior, 

were he to return to the earth, and go , ^ ^ _ 

ployed, and what is to befall him? Is he, ' from house to house through a parish, i deception; and if we take not great heed 
too, to be cut off by a violent death, or to would undoubtedly reply, " What is that ! to ourselves, we shall glide on wi.h the 

to thee ? Follow thou me." Some pro- 



same general current. And it is th 
saddest, most dreadful mistake that ever 
mail fell into, to dream on of heaven, lui- 
ly to awake and find himself in hell. Wo 
most hard, be 



live and labor longer than the rest of us ' 

Something like this appears to have been fessors of religion show a great deal more 
the drift of the question. What shall my | interest in such spec-alations, than in con- 
brother John do ? It was a <:;<?-iOi«, if not versing directly upon "thediings of the _ 

■axi impertinent question, and his Master's J kingdom;" and it Is pai-nful to see what! had better do any thm 
laconic and rebukeful answer, we may be shifts intelligent and respectable men of |, pressed -ivith^ the greatest ^CMls,^eneom 

I the world v.ill often make to ward off scri- 

i ous religious couversadoa. They will talk 

j with you as long as you please about- the 

' Bible, and admit that religion is a good 

! thing— the best thing in the world; but the 



quite sure, Peter never forgot. What is 
that to Ihee ? Folloio thou me. As if fas- 
tening his eye upon the too forward disci- 
ple, he had said. What does it concern 

you to know how it will fare with John, _^ 

after my departure? I have just given ' moment you attempt to make it a personal 
you your charge, and let that suffice. Do | matter, they adroitly shift the subject, and 
your duty faithfully, and ask no more I you are baffled, 
questions about him. 

On another occasion, when Christ was 
going " thi-ough the cides and villages, 
teaching and journeying towards Jerusa- 
lem," one of the companj' suddenly broke 
in upon him with this question. Lord, ere 



This, I believe, is one of the greatest 
trials that faithful ministers meet with. — 
They feel it to be a duty to deal faithfully 
in private as well as in the pulpit with all 
classes of their hearers; but how to ap- 
proach some of them, especially of the 



tliefc few that he saved? If he had asked, j hio-hcr class, they know not. They watch gle day in such risk as we do our I ope ot 
*Lord, what must 1 do to be saved? it fo? favorable opportunides. They make heaven, by living at suoh a distance Irom 



passed with the most painful dTiSculdts, 
endure all labors, undergo all suffeieing, 
practice every self-denial of thc_ good sol- 
dier of Jesus" Christ, than remain iu such 
danger. What is not worth to be unal- 
terably safe in Christ, to have constant es- 
pcrience of his preciousncss, to be making 
constant additions to our knowledge of 
him, to be nouri»Iied daily by his grace, 
and to be animated constantly by Lis luve? 
Oh, if we had anything in this v, orld of a 
value in the least to be compared with tbo 
blessedness of a v.-ell-groundcd hope in 
Christ, we would not leave it for a sin- 
1 day in such risk as we do our 1 ope of 



, - "PP' - I -, . - 

would have been the moat pcrdnent of all | the attempt again and again, but cannot our Saviour 

quesdons, and oui- Savior's answer went ; get within the"' circle of repulsion, and at) What shadows -wo are,^and what _ shad 

directly to that point — "' Strive to enter iu I lastgive up in despair. '" ' ' 



at the strait gate; for many, I say unto It is melancholy to think, that on the 
you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be j most important of all i^ubjects which can 
able." "Your question is an improper 
one; and if I were to give you a direct an- 
swer, it would do you no good. The all 
important thing for you is, to secure your 
own salvation, which yo'u will never do 



come before the human mind, men lose 
sight of their own personal concernment, 
as they never do when any constfierable 
temporal interest is at sUike. '!Cliey never 
stop to ask curious jmd irrelevant questions 
till you set yourself earnestly about it.— ! v. hen prompt action is- necessary to make 
Unless you make religion a personal con- 1 th.eir property sccuie. Lo prudent inan 
cern of the last importance, you, -will be ^ in the woFld, vvhen liiM by a friend, "I 



lost, let who may be saved." 

This, if I understand it right, was the ;-4io\\5.my-own.l! 
purport of Christ's answer.. If the ques 
tion had been a proper on 



ows we pursue! absorbed with vanities! a 
visiuntnade for eternity, blinded by the 
shadows of dme. A soul made for God 
and the boundless real'idcs of everlasting 
ages, absorbed with earth, and the poor 
w-orthkss trifles of ti-ansitory years ! Is 
this tiie manner in which Chlist would 
have his pupil hve? ■ Cr is tl e priae of 
heaven's eternal inheritance of so little 
concern?' "Ah, no! the crown of right- 
eousness is not fo little worth. 



hiav^ been iotjliiug into" flie record* to see 

stands, and I find that 

yours-is-not safe," -sS-ould "stop to i^qiiii'e 

^ ^ . hc.wouldiK) I whether ^x hundred others are anymore 

doubt have made a direct and satisfactory j secure than he-.is; aad if such, a case could it in contemplation to erect a haiidson 
reply; but, as in the former case, ho did j happen, would not hi.s friend very proper-! monument over the remains of our de 
not choose to encourage a vaid curiosity. . ly answer, " AVhat is that to )»ou ? As ; 
Human nature is the same now asit wa« 'sane man, attend, first, to your ow.n till 



, Monument TO James Hogan, Jr. — V\ 
understand— and feel truly rejoiced iliat . 
is so — ihat a number of our citizens ha\ 



eased freind, whose name stands at the 
head of this article. We trust the praise.- 



then. 



If Christ were a,gain to appear on ' and then if you have leisiirc, lielp them vvorthy object will be pushed forward to au 

■ ■ '" " wrmld hot lose early coaipledon; and that Willi;, mso'; 



earth, he would doubtless have a. great | to secure theirs." .Ko, ho ..y".^""- •— i j^ — i • 

many such curious questions put to'him. | dme in,- '■' dodng about questions" of no county will erect such a rroiiument as wi , 
And who of his ministcrshave not, at one j practical u.'ie to him. He would go be creditable to her hberaiity, and honer- 
time or another ? For example, Hot/ old, ' straight to the Register's oRice and 'exam- able to the mtmoi y o" a man who has done 
Mr. A., do you think children are when line for himself, and never think of at.kingl more tu elev-te hit character than any 
they first begia to sin ? Do you believe, | a (question of any ^ort, which didn't relate | tnan within its liroits.-'-i^raw^'^ « Review. 



4t> 



CLASSIC UNION. 



^()C €[a5G\c Unvon: 



"Nisi dominus, fiustra." 



M. HILLSMAN, . 

■AND THE FACt'LTY OF UNIOX USIVEESITY, 

Editors and Proprietors. 



OCTOBER 15, 1861 



THE ATIIES"S OF TEXiS'ESSEE. 
Our city, from the number and character 
of its schools, is in a fair way to merit this 
appellation. Here Union University rears 
its imposiirg structure, a spacious building, 
thronged with ardent and aspiring young 
men, who are trying with commendable 
zeal to scale the hights of knowledge and 
possess themselves of the hidden treas- 
ures in the store-hous,e of truth. At a 
little" distance stands the Preparatory De- 
partment of the University, where a good- 
,ly number of promising youths, under the 
guidance of an able Instructor, are advan- 
cing with rapid strides into the ranks of 
College students. Not very remote from 
this is the the place where that veteran in 
the CMse of education, Rev. Barlow, has 
around him a large and interesting group 
of lads who are eagerly drinking iu in- 
struction from his lips aad ?.dvaucing in 
the paths of literature and science. A 



young with the love of Nature; sufficient- 
ly retired to invite study and reflection, 
and unsurpassed in regard to health by 
any section in the Union, why may we not 
invite hither tliose who are in search of 
knowledge? Already the numbers en- 
gaged in study have created a literary at- 
mosphere around them which is well cal- 
culated to stimulate tliose who might oth- 
erwise be indiflferent to their own im- 
provement. The place is easy of access 
from every direction, and the society cul- 
tivated and refined. Here we have groves 
rivalling" those of Aoademus where we 
would invite those who would drink of the 
fountains of Parnassus and Helicon. 



We see that our friend, Rev. G. T. 
Henderson, has moimtcd the tripod and 
seized the pen Editorial. The "Weekly 
News" has doffed its neutrality, and is 
henceforth to be the organ of the demo- 
cratic party in Ruthereford county, under 
the editorial care of the above named gen- 
tleman. He has an arduous and respon- 
sible field before him, and one which to 
us appears strewed with but few flowers. 
We have always regarded a political edi- 
tor's life as one full of harrassing perplexi- 
ties, but it rnay be far difl^erent from what 
we ha->-e supposed. Mr. Henderson is a 
little further oa is the Baptist Female In- 1 gentleman who is well cjualified to dis- 
stitute, where Mrs. Eaton, Mrs. Piof. i charge the duties of an editor, and we 
Shelton, and Miss Sally Boll are daily i have no doi;bt the "Weekly News" will 

be ably conducted under his auspices. — 



laboring to impart instruction to a large 
number of the fair daughters of our Re- 
public, who arfr ascending the hill of sci- 
ence with an energy and perseverance 
rarely surpassed by young men. Then 
close at hand is the Methodist Cionference 
Ijisjtute, under the care of the Rev. Dr. 
"Finley , who is assisted by f '.,o aecoiaplished 
ladies wli r> a i-e giving instruetioT!. to a good- 
ly number ol female pupils and v.ho will 
doubtless do much to elevate the standard 
of female education in our mid.s^t. Hard 
by is the Murfreesboro' Female Seminary 
tinder the care of the indefatigable Mrs. 
Henderson, who has labored Jopg and 
successfully in the work of training the 
female mind, and whose school is in a 
prosperous condition. To these wa must 
add the school under the care of Mrs. 
Haynes, who has charge of quite a num- 
ber of Misses, whom she is leading for- 
ward v.'ith persevering energy in the paths 
of knowledge. And why should not 
this be the Athens of Tennessee. Where 
could we find a point in our State or in 
the neighboring States more favorable for 
a scat of learning. Situated in the midst 
ttf i-ural soenerv, «alci^latad to inspire the 



He is a man of talent and a far seeing 
pohtieian, and while hi.3 paper will do 
much to promote the political interest of 
his party, it vnli also, we doubt not, be 
high toned in a raoral and religious point 
of view and tend to the general improve- 
ment of the community in intelligence and 
virtue. V.'e cordially commend it to all 
who '.Tish a valuable jjaper. E. 



i'-EvrASf ANB English Tbj.i'graphing. 
— In the ■■-ay of telegraph lines, Michigan 
alone has nov.- already more miles com- 
pleted than has the whole of England. — 
Froia Detroit there are six lines and in the 
State thirty stations. The whole number 
of miles in operation in the iStatc is 683. 
This is doing pretty well for our State and 
so far west in the bargain. " '. . - 



The Health of Mubfreesboro'. — We 
hear of much sickness in other portions 
of the State, and often receive the painful 
intelligence of the sickness or death of a 
valued friend. Murfreessboro' continues 
to enjoy very fine health, and we hope in 
the selection of a school this fact will not 
be overlooked . 



THE SABBATH. 
It has been remarked by those who 
have observed much that the first symp- 
tom of moral deterioration in one reared 
under bible influences is a disposition to 
throw off' the restraints of the Sabbath. — 
Indeed the regard paid to this divine In- 
stittition is the ethical thermometer by 
which the moral condition of individuals 
or communities may be pretty accurately 
determined. With thousands. Sabbath 
desecration is the first step in that down- 
ward course whose end is in'etreavable 
rain. When we see a young man who 
has been religiously educated beginning 
to spend his Sabbaths in seeking amuse- 
ments, we feel that his case is critical in the 
highest degree. He is beginning to un- 
loosen those moral restraints which bind 
him to a virtuous course and opening up- 
on his own defenceless head a flood-gate 
of temptation which will almost inevitably 
sweep him down the swollen stream of 
vice and folly into the gulf of perdition. 
How very reprehensible then is every 
thing in individuals or communities .which 
tends to draw the attention of youth from 
the religious observance of the Sabbath. 
We are sorry to see that Sabbath desecra- 
tion is practiced to a greater extent now, 
than in days passed. We cannot disguise 
the fact, that this appalling evil is rap- 
idly on the increase, and extending 
its withering, soul-deadening influence, 
through the whole community. It has 
infected the members of the christian 
church. Many can start on a journey or 
to the neighboring town on the Sabbath 
■jvithout any feelings of compunctiod. or 
remorse. We speak not of our own par- 
ticular neighborhood, but of the country 
generally. This tendency is seen through- 
out the Union, and is lamented by all true 
christians and every lover of his country. 
This is doubtless in part owing to the 
great influx of Catholic population into 
our country, and partly to the insane de- 
sire to accumulate wealth. It is well 
known that with Catholics, in all coun- 
tries, the Sabbath is a day of amusement 
and dissipation, and so far as Catholic 
influence can be brought to bear in our 
country it will become so here. The re- 
ligious observance of the Sabbath forms 
one of the most important bulwarks of 
our holy religion. And from the decline 
of the Sabbath we may date the decline 
of Protestantism. 

Query — Are not those men who are en- 
gaged in running the railroad cars for 
pleasure trips on the Sabbath, either Cath- 
olies or under Catholic influence? J^. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



41 



ARE YOU A CHRISTIAN ? 
Reader, are j'ou a christian ? We do 
not enquire whether you^- are a, member 
of the church. It is so reputable at the 
present day to make a public profession of 
religion, and so pleasant to feel a sort of 
confidence, that one is in some mysteri- 
ous manner borne along towards heaven 
in that conveyance called the church, that 
■we fear other motives beside a single eye 
to God's glory has induced some to enter 
into church relations. Itisbyno means 
certain, then, because you are in the 
church, that you are a true christian. — 
But the question is of overwhelming im- 
portance. Let us examine it carefully, 
and as if for eternity. What is the su- 
preme object of your affection ? Do you 
desire holiness of heart and entire con- 
formity to the will of God in all things, 
more than you desire the riches, the hon- 
ors, and the pleasures of this present 
world ■? Before deciding upon any action 
or course of action do you first enquire, 
is it right ? will God approve ? or do you 
first ask yourself how it will appear in the 
eyes of your fellow men, or how it will 
affect yom- worldly interests ? Do you 
delight in secret communion with the 
Father of your spirits ? or is secret prayer 
attended to as an irksome duty, and of en 
neglected ? Are you willing to suffer 
the chastisements of your Heavenly Fath- 
er, if he sees them necessary for the puri- 
fication of your chtiracter and your perfec- 
tion in holiness ? Do you choose to suffer 
affliction with the people of God rather 
than to enjoy the pleasure of sin for a sea- 
sou ?^ or would you prefer worldly pros- 
perity even at th€ expense a{ progress in 
spiritual life ? Have you that deep hu- 
mility of heart which would lead you to 
feel that the censures of. others are proba- 
bly merited and that you have therefore 
no right to take offence at them ? or is your 
pride wounded and your anger inflamed 
whenever you hear any thing that savors 
of reproof? Can you from your heart 
forgive those who injure you ? Can you 
love your enemies and desire to do them 
good? Are you as watch :ul over your 
secret thoughts that are known only t<i_ 
God as over those actions that are open 
to the inspection of your fellow men ?-^,— 
Do you strive earnestly and constantly 
after perfect purity of thought, word, and 
action, and at the same time renouncing 
all self-righteousness, throw yourself wiih 
humble confidence upon the merits of 
the Lord Jesus Christ for pardon, sancti- 
fication, and eternal life ? Go down into 
the lowest depths of your lieart and an- 
swer these questions to your conscience 



faitlifully as you will soon have to answer 
tliem at the bar of ^the Eternal, and t^ien 
yon may know whether you are a chris- 
tian. If your heart condemns you, dont 
s&j that you are as good as other profes- 
sors of religion, and therefore you will not. 
ti-ouble yourself on the s'ubject. Go to 
the word of God and see if the standard 
of christian character we ■ have here laid 
down is too high, and remember God will 
never abate one jot or one tittle from his 
requirements, in order to accommodate 
the worldliness that has crept into the 
church. It is an easy matter to join the 
church — to talk about religion- to go to the 
sanctuary — to attend to the outward ordi- 
nances-7— to dispute about doctrines and 
contribute to the support of the gospel — 
all this may be done by one who is un- 
renewed and unsanctified in heart; but to 
crucif}' the flesh with the affections and lusts 
— to overcome the world — to keep the 
heart humble at the foot of the cross — to 
love the praise of God more than the 
praise of men — to cultivate devotion and a 
spirit of prayer — to discharge as punctu- 
ally those obligations, the neglect of 
which would pass unnoticed by the wortd, 
as those which are most likely to gain for 
us the<ippi'oba;iun of our fellow men. — 
These are the m.irks of a regenerate heart. 
And without these let no one for a mo- 
meno flatter himself thai, he is safe, how- 
ever fair his profession may be in the eyes 
of the world. Let me entreat you to be 
honest with yourself. What can you 
gain by being deceived in a matter of such 
awful moment ? E. 



MUTIFREESBORO' TeMPLE OF HoKOR, No. 

28. — A Temple of the above name and 
number was organized in this place a lew 
weeks ago. i he following are the names 
of the officers for the present term: W. 
A. Shelton, W. C. T.— T. J. Burchett, 
W. V. T.— B. W. Petty, P. W. C. T.— 
Ab. Watkins, W. R.— J. H. Castleman, 
W. A.R.— T. M. L. Burk, W. F. R.— 
N. H. Burk, W. T.-^R. W. January, W. 
U.— 0. A. Fowler, W. D. U.— Jesse 
S.ige, W. G.— H. \V. B. Mitchell, W. S.— 
D. Ralph, C. . 

Important Operation. — We have just 
seen a calculus, or s&ne,, about the size of 
an acron, but of bean form, which was 
extracted from the bladder of a htlle boy 
between three and four years of age. — 
The patient is now doing well/ and should 
he survive, it will be the third operation 
of tlie kind successfully performed by our 
townsman, Dr. B. W. Avent, within a 
short time pasl. — Nev:i. 



Liohtning — Trees. — It sometimes be- 
comesa very interesting question, '■ what 
(fees does UgJdrung sirikeT' Ahhough in 
this dry time, few can recollect when it 
(!fi¥ thunder. The time willcouie, howev- 
er, no doubt. Every one at all conversant 
with Natural-Philosophy knows that^owi- 
ied substances, attract electricity much 
more, than others. Bearmg tliis in mind 
let any one look at the different trees in 
the nearest wood. Oak, Lombardy and 
Yellow poplar, and ash trees he will find 
with limbs near the tops, straight, and fre- 
quently dead, pointing like so many light- 
ning rods to the clouds. Now should a 
thunder storm come up suddenly upon a 
person in the woods, he would be tempt, 
ing the bolts of heaven by going under 
such trees. That such is the fact each one 
can easily determine for himself by notic- 
ing the " Heaven blasted tree." 

But should a heech, or any other loio 
tree with limbs hanging doxon offer a pro- 
tecting shelter, let him seek cover without 
delay. "Not a hair of his head shall be 
hurt." 

To this it may be objected that straight 
pointed limbs do not invariably draw the 
electric fluid, because many trees are 
struck about the middle. The explanation 
is easy. Let them be struck where they 
will, so far as our observation has extend- 
ed, thcj' are invariably the same class of 
trees, and if any one will summon nerve 
enough to look at a tree when it is struck 
he will see the whole top enveloped in a 
sheet of light — dimning the orb of day 
himself. The multitude of points have 
distributed the stroke so that it passes 
readily until it reaches the body of the 
tree where the conducting surface is so 
much less that it "rifts even the heart of 
oak." D. 



Duck River Academv. — We notice 
with much pleasure that this Association 
at its last session determined to establish 
an Academy of high order, to give young 
men a good english education and prepare 
them for College. 

To the philanthropist and chi istian ev- 
ery where this will be "glad tidings of 
great joy." More especially will it be 
welcome to all who daily witness the great 
disadvantages students often labor under 
in entering College — 'particvlarly the ad- 
vanced classes. Let the foundajtion be laid 
deep, and broad, and solid, as momen- 
tous interests at stake and we fear not the 
result. Again we say. "a few mvre!'' the 
higher, the hetier! We must have the 
"schools of the prophets." 



42 



CLASSIC UNION. 



il would lift "^fi^ wave ^ke tlie tn peipetual suo.-sf, sight.wouUl -soo!! be turned 
a bsirniiig ci!\'. oiiddeidy, bilglit into blindness, but for the Aurorii -w-hich a-ives 



AUE0R4 BOEEALIS. | Wljatever mystery and doubt may hang over 

last week our citizens enjoyecl the privilege — ' the^cause and phenomena of this strange attend- 
comparatively rare in this latitude — ofbehoy,- ant of our planet, about its beauty ,'gr<>udeur and 
ing that beautiful and sublijne spectacle, the usefulness there can be none. "Wjile the polar 
Aurora Bofealis.^ As the early twilight melted regions are subjected to long'coid nights, of 
away, the attentive observer might have seen a months in duration. Without the sun, it would 
dark cloud resting on the northern 'horizon.^-- be_ impossible to live, and with the sun shining 
Occasionally 
smoke from a 

jets of light shot forll;, leaving the darkness of light enough to transact most of the ordinary! 
the back ground palpahle, asit Vei-e. In a short business of life, and paintsa sky farmore beau- 
time a rich ''deep citeison arfh; "^jannedthe tiful than greets the eye in the clime of Italy or 
Heavens nearly up to« the zenith, gradually fad- the Isles of the South. 

ing into a softer and lighter tint, while the cloud D. 

like thafwiiich guided and guarded ' hr Irrriielite- 
of old, had'become a' ■' pillar bflight by night." ■ SITJIMART. 

'The outer edges were of deeper" color than the! . ^^ it Kot- Tede ?— " A.few friends will go and 
rest; From the" centre, beituas of brightness, '^^''y "«; affection will rear a stone, and plant 
(they could hardly be- called, beams of Kght,) >^'^ flowers over our gave; in a brief period 
ladjitedin every -direction,. One broader, and | tli« ^'Wle.lrillock will be smoothed down and 
trib-hter'than tlie rest,, extended, from the. Carena j neither friend nor stranger will be concerned to 
through tiie ZJ^cr in the constellation of tire | "^k which one of tlie forgotten millions of the 
Great Bear; another, broad oue, but paler, took : esxVa was buried there. Ei-ery vestage that we 
the pole-^tar; and a third, of ambei;, seeftiod to ' have ever lived Wpon th,e earth will have vanish- 
tremble through thesfcriilgs of Sj/ra-j' A delicate ed- away.- Bntm-an's existence is not confined 
orange green EO-^v suffused., the lowerportion and -to the earth ; a glorious and immortal future is 
with occasional changes to colors, of the richest before him."^ 

and mo.st-delicicvastiues, far surpassing the pow- -^, , ,. ,. , , 

. -4 ., ■. ' . , ? '■ , ' « hy are some ladies directly the reverse of 

er of any huma~n pencil, -It remained suspended , . ". • -^ ., t,. ■ i. 

■' V ;• , . , ,. , tneir mirrors. Do you give it up? Itisbecause 

in the Heavens until iti-faded a vdy in the light \, , ,, „ ^ -.i ^ .. n • i •, ,, , 

J a the latter reflect without talking while the form- 



of mornin 

That a phenomenon so stupendous should be 
logarded with awe and even alarm by the igno- 
jaut and wicked is not strange. 

In the days of Aristotle, Pliny and Cicero, i 
■was considered a supernatural appearance — a 
conflict, visible to the eye, between the deities 
of Heaven in " mid air." 



er talk without reflecting 

TheSkiis. — No part of the human body isneg- 
lecterlso much as the skin. We keep trying to 
reach the inside parts with phj-sic, at u consider- 
able expense, and upon the outside, the skin, 
we are not willing to expend so much as a bowl 
of water. If you vi'ant to be well and lively, 
wash eveiy part of your skin, and give it a good 
rubbing, once every day. 

Fool. — The young man who works for eight 
or ten dollars per week, to malce a drink of 



li&- rationale is, still, to some extent a stumb- 
ling block to the philosopher, although it is 
■universally admitted to be closely connected with 
electricitv. The opinion of Biot, that it was 

produced by clouds of metalic dust from volca- j t^udy i-^tlier than of pure cold water, 
noes, attracted some attention until it was sug- ; i^ N.ime.— The little river which bounds the 
gestedthat the dust from volcanoes was not me- tillage of A.storia, in Oregon, on the east, bears 
talic. ' the Indian name of ■* OccuneocegeecocGcavucecd- 

Canlon says, it is caused by electricity pass- dunga," which signifies laziness. We suspect a 
ing in rarified air, in the same manner as i n the j^zy man in that tribe must have had some 
Aurora tule. Thus a glass tube several feet ; trouble to tell whatwas the matter with him. 



:. READIKG BIOGRAPHY. 
One of the most interesting and useful kinds 
of leading, is well chosen lives of the wise and 
good. It would add much to the utility of bi- 
ographical reading, if while the book is in hand, 
the various incidents and general current of the 
memoir were made the subjects of discussion 
and comment in family conversation. Such con- 
VOTSation easily sustains itself in interest, espe- 
cially if accompanied by jtidicious comment 
from the head of the family. AVe might virtu- 
ally enjoy at all times the presence of the excel- 
lent of the earth in our famrlie.s — might recall 
the pious dead from the land of forgetfrdness 
and silence to our firesides, and learn from theii- 
lips the lessons of experience and the consola- 
tions of \ irtuous endeavor. They being dead, 
yet speak wherever biography has embalmed 
them. And it is beautiful to think of, as we 
sit athome, that the choicest and best of our 
race have silently ranged themselves on our ta- 
ble and book shelves, and v,-ait for us to open 
commumceiiou and commune with them. Pat- 
riarchs, prophets, martyrs, are our guests, not 
reposing before us in the cold marble of the stat- 
uary, or on the dead canvass of the painter, but 
in our own living tongue, in "words that breathe 
and thoughts that burn." We have but to open 
the records, and they speak to us. In this as- 
sembly of the wise and good our minds are en- 
lighteued, otir hearts elevated. 

There is encouragement, too, to the Christian, 
in the contemplation of the long and illustrious 
line of Christian heroes, from the worthiest of 
the Bible to the Schwartzes, the Martyus, the 
Howards, the Oberlins, and Franckes, and" Elli- 
otts, and Braiuerds, a"'d multitudes more of 
modern fame, Kien whose purity of puipose, 
Ipf ' n"3a of aim, and largeness of heart, will be 
had in everlasting remembrance. 

" O when oft oppress'd and lonely. 
All our fears eue laid aside. 

If we but remember, only 

Such as these have lived and died." 



■Jong, from' v.-hich the air partially exhausted and i 
the charge from a large electrical machin<3 a 



[O" When you are addressing a blockhead 
be as grandiloquent as possible — for the loss 



Levdon iar, or better, a eieam electrical machine, ■ , ' ^ , , , j n /• j n „„ 

■^■' J '- : ., . ,, -. such people understand, the mure profound they 

■Dassed througli it. It exhibits, on a small scale i ^, . ^-^ ' ., ,, , , „ti,,,„ 

i-^'^ o _ - ^. I think you are. In a vacuum recollect, feathers 

the Dhenoraona of the northern light and may be ; •' . 

^ , , _ -rv 1? 1 r > 1 -i. lall as fast as guineas, 

considered analogous to Dr. Jraiiklms kite ex- 1 ° - 

Deriment " ' ' "^ People are easily attracted to bow down 

Fromthese facts, the defection of the magnet- ' to genius and to wealth, yet the commonest man 

ic needle, and the tendency of electricity to go i ^'^^o carries a warm, kind lieart in his bosom, is 

from the equator to the poles, demonstrated by : ^^r m«'-e "^."'^yof a'i"^'™tion and l«'°i^|«=^— 

Farraday render it protiable that it is a disturb 



Genius and wealth are but means to an i5nd,l).ut 
true benevolence is the end itself. 

Why.shouldany human being who livesraere- 
ly toeat, drink and fileep, imagine himself to be 
a rational being.- What evidence has ho of ra- 
tionality which the ox or the horse has not ? 
. -Gobn.-^Accounts.froni Hungaiy.'state that the 

sound, like the rustle of silk, which is corrobo- I i^iliabitauts have almost. uuivSrsally given up 

rated by the almost universal testimony* of Che | sniokrtig. 

inhabitants of northern regions. Thisis a very ' Bn^s-oir Pak.veise always fly against the wind, 

natural mistake wc invariably make with regard" ^^^^g^^:^^ ^j^^^,^ ^^^^^ ,^„^^ against the 

to bodies moving very swiftly. Or the noise i 

may have been caused ?by the waving of forest ! c"rr<^nt- 

trees the waves of the ocean ' or the freezing of " The pride of man in what he knows 

,^;f;.„«H. ! Keeps Icsseuin, .^^--.^ ™.- 



ancein the magnetic forces or the electrical cur- 
rents returning Uimugh rarifiod ah' of the higher 
reo-ions of the atmosphere. 

Its height hasliaen reckoned variously .at from 
a few hundred yards to six or seven miles. 

Many persons suppose they he.ar a crackling 



iiis knowledge gro-irs." 



SCIEiSrCE .\iS"D REVELATION. 
A vague report is in circulation which attrib- 
utes to the distinguished natur.alist. Prof Agas- 
siz, the expression of an opinion opposed to the 
generally received doctrine of the unity of the 
human family. He is said to have affirmed his 
belief that the difl'erent races of mankind had 
originally a diilerent parentage, and that this 
opinion did not conriict with the testimony of 
the Scriptures. On what grounds either part of 
'this opinion was based, v.-e have seen no account. 
Tlie cfeiiberate judgnient of a naturalist so em- 
inent and so candid as Prof. Agassiz is under- 
stood to be, is CDtitk'd to much respect, tliougii 
it directly opposes authorities which are, to say 
the least, quite as respectable, and the general 
tendency of scientific researches of late years. 
It may lead to a new invciligalion of the whole 
subject, and aid in the discovery of what is the 
real truth. Tliat truth wlien discovered may, 
or may not, conflict with our usual interpreta- 
tion of the Scriptures; but of all persons in the 
World no one should more earnestly desire, or be 
less afraid of, the discovery of truth, whether in 
science or religion, than the believer. ] n his firm 
I'ailh th.it revelation and nature are tlie products of 
the same Power, and that by no scrutin-y- of scieiice 
or reach of discovery, can any real discrepancy 
between the teachings of the one and the truths 
of the other, ever be detected, the Christian can 
aflbrd to abide the result, if anybody can. He 
has less to fear, and more to hope for than any 
other one; whatever dismay the unfoldings of 
the vast book of knowledge may bring to the in- 
fidel,' he is sure to find in eacli successive page 
the traces of tlie same fiager tjiat unerringly 



CLASSIC- UNION. 



43 



\rrotc for his consolation tlie s,ure \rords of Scrip- 



THE BEAUTIFUL AS AjS" EDUCATOR. ; love it to their undoing; for the mind, sweet 

ture.. , ,. „ , , T • i I It would be a blessed thinij' for ail clas- imao-es of home will summon them back 

It is vei'r bad poucv, ai5 well as bad relieion, to . i -r ii i i ■ t:„' , <•{, ii i r i ■ t •. i 

indul'eanyfeaiWth^bearino-sof science upon I scs of people, if the moulding, rehmng as the restless dove on Ured wmg hastened 

the triith of ivvelatiou. The infidel lias bad Lis* influence ot the beauliiul were btttcr tin- bacTito the ark iro'" the storm and deso- 
triumph repeatedly, but the world knows how | (Jyi-jjooj jjn J eJujjjshed. It is a great and laiion without. 

precious truth that our nature is so frara'/d I 

and tuned that by a sweet necessity we , i,,p,,3sjj,iLiTlES Fossii3LE.-What mere 
assimilateto the beautirul, the Wly, the ; ^^^^^^^..:^,^^ ^^.j ^^^^^^. one believe that 

sraceral, u_ it only happens to be our^good .^ ^^^ ^.^^^^,^ ^.. ^.^^^ -^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^^ 



short "it has been." Eveiy step of progress into 
the arena of nature has been a tri\imph for 
Christianity, and there is not the shadow, of a 
reason to fear any other result for the future. — 
Christianity is true, whatever else is true; and 
we ought never to allow an issue to be forored 
wliicli should involve the question of its truth. 
Science may disclose her new truths, . but they 
will not make untre anything that was true be- 
fore. The discovery of a new truth does not 
destroy an old truth" What is true wilTforever 
remain true, whatever else may be found true. — 
And if (here secras to arise a conflict between 
the old truth and the new. it will be found to 
be only in appearance, if they both be really true. 
It isquitepossibl-ewedo not rightly interpret the 
Bible in all respects; and it is proper to accept an 
issue with the man of science on the ground of 
interpretation, and safe to abide the result. Ge- 
ology has made us read aneW the book of Gen- 
esiSjWith a much better and grander exegesis; 
and it is quite possible the progress of discovery 
and reseavcli may make other modifications of 
our iuterpretatious. Perhaps the discoveries in 
the natural history of our race may compel us to 
a more critical study of the sacred text, to 
evolve a sense more in accordance with scientific 
truth. But geology has made no announce- 
/nents which co)iflict with revelation, but on the 
contrary, has most strikingly confirmed its truth. 
And so would natural history in the end, wliat- 
ever its discoveries may prove to be, confirm 
all that the Scriptures really say respecting our 
race. "We tender no such issue to the infidel, as 
that if your philosophy or your science be proved 
true, our Bible falls. The Bible cannot possibly 
come in conflict with science. Our interpretation 
of the Bible may — for we often have to correct 
that; but the Bible as it really is, never. 



fortune to be brought into intimate f^^^il" p,pdulura of a clock, a ray of li^ht trav- ' 
larity with them. : ^.j^ ^^^^^. igo^goo miles, ^nd would there- 

The low mild voice of a loving mother , {^^.^ perform the tour of the world in 
has naturally and necessarily an influence I ^boufc the same time that it requires to 
very different from that ol a b.oisteroas, j „,i„ij ^yith our eyelids, and in much less 
coarse, vulgar woman. A child growing ! tjjj^n a swift runner occupies in taking a 



ALIMENT FOR THE MIND. 

■\Ve would that all our readers were appreci- 
ating students of the grace and wealth of 
thought in Wordsworth's poetry. It makes us 
sad when we think of the exquisite enjoyment 
which is lost, but which might bo derived from 
this philosophic poet, by those who now seek 
vainly their pleasure in objects that yield only 
sorrow. To Wordsworth, rather than to any oth' 
er, would we apply his own lines: » 

Blessings be on him, and immortal praise. 

Who gave us nobler lives and nobler cares. 

The I'oet, who on earth halh made ns heirs 

Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays ! 

We can iiua"-iae with what emotions we i • i ^f ,.„,,„„ 

should look at tenantless palaces and luxiu-iart hiousuess, may carry oil a work of legeii 

fruits and fragrant flowers untouched, unenjoycd. 



up under the influence of the one, will be 
unlike one trained by the other. Let a 
young girl grow up in a family where 
there is no order, no cleanliness, no re- 
gard to the gracious amenities .of domes- 
tic love, and how unlike will she be at ma- 
ttirity from what she would have bee.i had 
it been he; lot to be born and brought up 
in a home where order, neatness, scrupu- 
lous nicely and cleanliness were the uniform 
law, and where mild, ati'ectionate o-entle- 



smgle stride? What mortal can be made 
to believe, without demonstration, that 
the sun is almost a million times larger 
than the earth? and that although so re- 
mote from us that a cannon-ball, shot di- 
rectly towards it, and maintaining its full 
speed, would be twenty years reaching it, 
it yet affects the earth by its attraction in 
an inappreciable instant of time? Who 
would not ask for demonstration, when 
told that a o-nafs wing, in its ordinary 



ness, and grace were the unvarying ex- ■ flig]it, beats many hundred tirties in a 
ample. We cannot well avoid falling in- j sgconj. or that there exist animated and 
to the imitation of what we constantly , j-eo-ular oro-anized beings, many thousands 



and closely mingle with, and in the course 
of years we come to reflect almost as ac- 
curately as a mirror, tlie influences which 
have afl'ected us. 

It is a great mistake to regard minute 
and common expressions of the beautiful, 
as of small account. A few graceful or 
fragrant flowers in the family sitting room, 
may inspire the heart with love for the 
purity of which they are the emblems. — 
A painted landscape on the wall may in- 
sensibly mould the thoughts; a scene of 
grandeur, or of majesty in natuie, drawn 



of whose bodies, laid close together, would 
not extend an inch? But what are these 
to the astonishing truths which modern op- 
tical inquiries have disclosed, which teach 
us that every point of a medium through 
which a ray of light passes is aflected 
with a succession of periodical movements, 
regularly recurring at equal intervals, no 
less than five hundred millions of millions 
of times in a single second! That it is by 
such movements communicated to the 
nerves of our eyes that we .see. Kay, 
more, that it is the difi'erence in the fre- 



our minds, and even without our own con- 



because unappreciated: but what arc the enjoy- 
ments of tlie senses compared with those of the 
mind ! what are the luxuries of appetite com- 
pared with the raptures of the soul, as it fsasts 
upon the thoughts and imaginations which ge- 
nius and poetic fancy supply ! What arc mines 
of gold compared witli the vast treasures of 
intellectual wealth accessible to all. 

That is of all desolations most mournful and 
dreary v.-hich we see all around us in the world 
of mind. Aliment fit for the gods lies untastcd 
and unknown in the volumes of our sages and 
poets. Melody and joy, and brightness and 
beauty, enough to set the stars to shouting-, aj-o 
all unappropriated. A table of good thi;:gifor 
heart and mind is set, in sight of us, at which all 
the intellect in the universe might feast, yet only 
now and then conjes along some solitaiy ouoio 
taste, and he, likely as not, will becountedmad. 

The shrewd men, the wide awake men, 
(he wise in their day and generation, ai-e 
caught in no such trancendental communion.. . 
Their inspiration is derived from the cahange 
and the market. It is enough for them that cot- 
ton has advanced a quarter of a penny, and 
flour a shilling. Mercantile sagacity smiles at 
the dreamers whose most fervent phreuzy never 
advanced stock a farthing. Well, the fox knows 
his hole — the ass his master's crib — the swine 
eats his acorns; each and all make manifest 
theiriiaturea and tastes by the nourishment they 
crave. 



by a master, may call up feelings of won- quency of their recurrence which affects 
der and delight, and engage us in reflec- , ns with the sense of the diversity of coi- 
tions the most elevating. '^Ihe statuary of | or. That, for instance, in acquiring the 
the poor Italian, say for instance of a child sensation of redness, our eyes are affected 
at prayer, may give direction for hfe to four hundred and eighty-two millions of 

times; of yellowness, live hundred _ and 
forty -two millions of times; and of violet, 
seven hundred and seven millions of mil- 
lions of times per second! Do not such 
things sound more like the ravings of mad- 
men than the sober conclusions of peo- 
They are, 
'hich any 
one may most certainly arrive, who will 
only be at the trouble of examining the 
chain of reasoning by which they have 
been obtained. — Herschel. 



eration in our taste and desir 

W^ould that we could impress this sim- 
ple, but manifestly truthful philosophy 

upon all parents wnth reference to their 

training of their children. Would that j pie in their wakmg senses. 

they might understand the importance of nevertheless, conclusions to 

surrounding their children with the beau- 

tifi-.l, the graceful, the gentle, and the 

true. Let them hear only the accents of 

love and kindness, if j'ou would have them 

kind and loving. Let the mother's voice 

be music in their ear, whose- soft tones 

shall still float around .them when- she is 

in her grave. Let her irnag* be associa- 
ted with all that is sweet and mild, and 
gentle, so that in future years, when the 
turf is green above her, they may remem- 
ber it as invested, with a soft halo, with 
"soiiic-.thing of an angel light,'' and be 
awed and melted. 

In a word, let parents surround their 
children's young warm hearts with an at- 
mosphere of love, and fill their souls with 
visions of spiritual beauty. And then at 
length fliey are compelled to face the rude, 
rough w^orld, they will be far less likely to 



Death of Dr. CnAMBERLAiN. — Oui citi- 
zens were shocked on Saturday last, by the 
receipt, of a telegraphic dispatch, announ- 
cing that Chamberlain, the \-ernerable and 
beloved President of Oakland College, had 
been murdered on the previous envening 
by a man named Briscoe. We are not m 
possession of the particulars, farther than 
that Dr. C. was stabbed in his own house 
by Briscoe. The perpetrator imediately 
fled. It will be seen by our telgraphic dis- 
patch that he has since been found, but 
was so far gone from the effects of poison 
which he had taken, that he died soon af- 
ter. — Vid^shirr/ Wh'iff, ^thinsl. 



44 



CLASSIC UNION. 



[From Authr.r's HomeOnzetie ] 
THE BKIDES ADIhU lU i iJ' MOTHER. 



Mother adieu — ■•iraiitre thoughts are riishiug 

"Wildly iicruLi- my biiiiii, 
And my yuuug cheek aud brow are flmhiug 

Wiih iiiiuyled juj aud paiii; 
Jov, that /iw e\e- m ,-tarrv :.pUudor 

" Witli their deep ^lanee" of pride. 
And their owu h)ok. uuii'iug and tender. 

Are ca.^l upon his bride. 

Joy, that I hear hi.-^ low tones breathiuj; 

Of happine- ..,,•,..„,.— 
Of the rich viue- '., !ie wreathiug 

Aboutoiir I ■ i . ,< >'.'■; 
Aad the dear bird; \' . ._ ;,j,deii winglets 

And song will liugtir iliere. 
And the soft wiud^ will lift ihe ringlets 

Backfi'om Ids forehead fairl 

And tiie low murmur of the river 

Vv'^ill come up to llic door, 
While the bright sunbeaia> gaily quiver 

Its azure surface oer; 
And mo'iher, at llie quiet even, 

When stars are iu ilie sk_y. 
It will be sweet 'neaili the blue heaven. 

To dream of thy iiald eye! 

'But pain — dear mother, amid the gleaming 

Of all this starry light. 
And 'mid the blessed visions teeming 

Wiihiu my brain to-night — 
A painful shadow lies, enshrouding 

The lustre of theii' beams. 
And with its coldness darkly clouding 

Ny fond heart's warmrst dreams ! 

To leave tJeee in thy lonely sorrow. 

With clouds upon thy brow — 
'Tis this alone that makes me borrow 

A thought of anguish now; 
As by the loved side of another 

I pass along life's track. 
To this dear mother — to (Aee, sw^eet mother. 

My soul will wander back ! 

And often in ihe night's deep stillness. 

When dreams are in my heart. 
Amid their light all softly stealing 

My mother's /ones shall start! 
Her form will rise among the visions 

That sweep my spirits o't r, 
And I shalL gaze in.:o the fullness 

Of her blue eye once moTe ! 

Mother, adieu — one burning tear-drop 

I leave upoii thy cheek 
To tell the sorrow I am feeling. 

Too deep for words to speak; 
Even his voice cannot beguile lue 

From thee, so fond.and true; 
I bear thine image, dearest mollier, 

Within my soul — adieu. 



ousl_v .'ibotit the floor, wlu-n he v.ccidentally | bo}' of yoitr own size insult you without 
stuniblcd over a .s:()ol. He Wiss somewhat ' pa^vino- him for ii." 

hurt, an ! be,.,aii to ci'y. His mother toolv Thus were the principUs of the first lessons 
him in:o her irm-s, and, in order lo pacity J^^ff/, and the bent twig hardened as it 



[For the Mothers' Journal and Family Visitant.] 
FIEST LEaSOifS— REVEKUE. 

By KEV. J. L. liUUUOWS. ' 

Henry BaUard was a beautiful and af- 
fectionate boy. liis parents, lijie too ma- 
ny others similarly thouohtless, were 
regardless of the moral characterof i.is 
infantile habits, supposing, if they thought 
at all on the subject, that the future edu- 
cation and good sense of their child, would 
rectify whatever might be wrong in his 
early training. They never reflected that 
the same dispositions and actions that are 
■wicked in the man, are incipient germs of 
wickedness in the child. 

Upon Henry's third birth day, his fond 
parents had presented him with some lit- 
tle toys, with which he was romping joy- 



him, began to saike and fcold the stoo 

■■'Naiiglity .stool ! ;o hurt my baby ! — 
Mamma will wliip the naughty stool !'' 

The object was gained. The child 
opened wide his beautii'ul eyes, looked tri 
uraphantly at the chastized .stool, and con- 
tinued liis play. Tiiefi,i-st lesnon inreoenye 
was given. 

A short lime after, a little playm-ite 
took up one of his toys. Heniy, jealous 
of his rights, attempted to snatch it f.'-om 
him. He resisted, and Henry st7'uck him 
in the. face. It icas the first prentice of his 
■mother's lesson. 

He looked up into her face, and she was 
laughing at his sprightliness, and remark- 
ed to a friend, " Wluit a spirit the dear boy 
has ! Tlie practice of the first lesson teas 
encouraged ! 

Ah ! that mother did not dream that she 
was inculcating and fostering principles in 
the heart of her boy, that should stibject 
him to disgrace and remorse, and herself 
to tinutterable anguish. 

Scenes like these were of frequent oc- 
currence, and Henry became accustomed 
to strike with his tiny hand every person 
or thing that offended him, and these little 
ebullitions of passion, were hailed and 
encouraged as so many evidences of supe- 
rior vivacity. True, he was sometimes 
told it was "naughty," and that "good 
boys must not be spiteful," and that 
"mamma would not love him, if he acted 
so;" but there were in the words of re- 
proof so much of the manner and tone of 
approval, that it is not marvellous, if, wiih 
the quick perceptions of childhood, he un- 
derstooa the censure rather as an encour- 
agement, than as a restraint. 

Years passed. 

One dav, when Henry was about seven 



grew in the direction to which it was in- 
clined. 

Henry grew up a passionate and re- 
vengeful boy. His disposition, naturally 
yiehling and peaceful, under judicious 
training might have rendered him amiable 
and beloved; and, as it was, there were 
lovely traits in his character. He was as 
generous as hasty, as ready to forgive as 
to strike, as eager to repair an injury when 
the storm of passion had calmed, as to in- 
flict one while it was raging. By his 
youthful associates his temper was dread- 
ed, and of course he was not loved. The 
bright strands that composed the warp of 
his temperament were clouded by the dark 
threads that had been woven into its woof. 

During his seventeeth year Henry en- 
tered college, and possessing untiring en- 
ergy and industry started fair in the race 
for the laurels of his class. But before 
the year was passed he was expelled for 
grossly insulting the tutor, who mildly re- 
proved liira for being tardy at ihe hour of 
recitation. 

His mortified parents were now as 
severe in censuring his fitful passions, as 
they had been industrious in instilling 
them. Earnestly did the}' strive to root 
out from the soil of the heart, the noxious 
weeds, which, in their th.oughtless folly, 
they had planted. But it was'too late. — 
Promoted by their own assiduous culture, 
the growth had become too rank to be 
easily stibdued. And they sought not for 
him, nor did they encourage him to seek 
the interposition of the divine hand which 
alone can " break up the fallow ground,'' 
and plant the flowers of paradise in the 
mellowed soil. 

A clerkship was obtained for Henry in 
the store of a merchant in his native town. 



years old, he ran sobbing into the parlorj jje ^as attentive to the business of his 
where his parents sat and rushed to his ^^^^ ^i, though often tried bv his 

lather s knee m great distress. ;,.,.;- ,i,'^i:,„ i,;,.i,k, „.,i„ori i,;c v,^^,v,„t"„.,c„ 



" Why, my son, what in the world is 
the matter?" asked the father. 

" Charles slapped me in the face." 

",Well, he is no larger than you, why 
didn't you whip him for it. 1 hope yov. 
are not going to be a coward. You must 
take your own part, or you will never be 
a man." 

Now the truth was, that Henry, upon 
some slight vexation, had struck his cousin 
Charles, who, probably, similarly trained, 
had returned the blow. But, without any 
inquiry into the caitse of the quarrel, the 
father, who, in accordance with tlie popu- 
lar but ruinous maxim wanted to "make 
his son a lad of spirit," encouraged him 
to take his defence into his own hands. — 
The child shamed and nerved by his fath- 
er's reproaches, left the room, and in a 
few momeiits the screams of the two boys 
proclaimed that they were inbattle. Be- 
fore they could reach the scene of conten- 
tion, Charies had run, and little Henry was 
the boasting vic:or. 

" Now yuu are a brave bo}','' said the 
blinded, foolish father, patting his flushed 
cheek, " my own brave boy: never let any I 



irritability, highly valued his promptness 
and energy. Experience in the world had 
taught Henry the necessity of controlling 
his anger when crossed or contradicted. — 
But his passions were only suppressed, 
not expelled. The fire was but smothered, 
not extinguished; and a passing puff of 
wind could raise it to a blaze. 

One day, when the store was crowded 
with purchasers, Henry, in the huiry of 
the moment, mistook the measurement of 
a piece of cloth. Some time after the 
buyer returned, and laying the cloth on 
the counter, said in an angry tone, " This 
cloth has been spoiled by the tailor, who 
commenced cutting it before he found out 
it was a scant pattern. 1 paid for a full 
pattern and expect you to take this back 
and furnish one. 1 do not mean to be 
cheated out of the price of a coat." 

Henry's brow contracted and his lip 
quivered with rage at this insinuation. — 
"Sir," said he, "if 1 have made a mis- 
take, I will rectify it; but do you mean to 
charge me with intentionally cheating 
you?" 

"Your mistaJce," replied the man Bncer- 



CLASSIC UNION. 



45 



ino'ly, "was much in your own favor, 
which ccrttiinly looks very su picious.' 

Quick rts h^hlning- Henry snatched the 
shtars from .the counler and hurled hem 
at the insuher's head. The point pierced 
his temple ! He fell ! and in tive minuses 
was a corpse ! 

The young man vras taken almost sense- 
less with horror before a magistrate, and 
wiihin an "hour was lying in agony of soul 
upon the hard floor of a prison. In a few 
weeks after he was indicted for manslaugh- 
ter, tried, convicted and sentenced to seven 
years imprisonment. 

The night previous to his removal to the 
state penitentiary his heart-crushed pa- 
rents passed with him in the jail. Widi 
unutterable anguish they looked upon the 
face of their ov,-n promising boy. Hag- 
gard despair and gnawing remorse had 
drawn their shades over that still youthful 
countenance, and traced there the furrows 
of incipient old age. Two of their loved 
children they had already seen wrapped 
in winding sheets, and laid in cold graves. 
But they felt no such agony of soul as now. 
They wept then, and found relief in tears. 
Now their woes were too deep for tears. 
They wailed and groaned. They could 
have followed their sun to the grave, but 
the disgrace and horror of this living en- 
tombment, how conld it be borne 1 Mis- 
erable parents and wretched son I They 
had no God to soothe, no Divine Comfort- 
er to sustain them. But tliere were addi- 
tional drops of wormwood to be wrung 
into their intolerably bitter cup. 

" Father," said the wretched Henry, 
"in this gloom}' prison, I have been re- 
calling the scenes of my youth, while 
tracmgthe history and growth of the hel- 
lish passions which have emhittered mv 
whole life, and now doomed me to a living- 
grave. Can you remember, father, when 
in the days of my childhood you reproach- 
ed me with cowardice, and told me if I 
would be manly I must learn to give blow 
for blow ? Can you remember how you 
encouraged and applauded me when I fol- 
lowed your instructions ? Then, father, 
and at other times, by such lessons you 
planted scorpions in my breast, and during 
all my boyhood they were nursed. They 
have grown with ray growth, and now 
they sting us all." 

Earlier scenes, and among them those 
of his third birth-day, arose to the memo- 
ry of the mourning mother. He had for- 
gotten them — they were beyond the date 
of his remembrance, but their influence 
had been powerful in moulding his charac- 
ter and shaping his life. 

Within two years Henry died in prison. 

Often did the repentant parents bitterly 
wail, when those Jirst lessons were remem- 
bered, and if they never repeated the 
words of the wretched poet, they often 
felt the truth of the sentiment, 
"The thorns which I have reaped, are of the tree 
I planted ; they have torn me and I bleed ; 
I should have known what fruit would spring 
from such a seed. 



Study to be more consistent in principle, 
and more uniform in practice, and your 
peace will be more unbroken. 



[For the 'Watchman and Reflector.j 
TOBACCO OOJfSTJMERS 

The use of tobacco is a serious and n. 
growing evil, may we not ssy a growing 
sin. That it is a sin. it seems to us, every 
discriminating, candid and enlightened 
conscientious man, will confesij. That it 
should not appear so to the poor, untutor- 
ed Indi in, or to the gross anl ignorant in- 
mate of the Iri jh cabin, we do not wonder; 
but we do wonder that an enlightened 
and a cultivated Christian disciple, should 
be a slave to the use of tobacco, and not 
feel that he is commit ing a grievous sin. 
And this indecent and vile habit is in- 
dulged in, by those from whom the world 
should expect better thmgs, who should 
be living epistles known and read of all 
men. We have smoking ministers, and 
chewing deacons, studies perfumed with 
the odor of the noxious weed, and sanc- 
tuaries bespattered and stained with its 
filthy extraciion. 

It is a sin because it ivasles monriy. And 
the amount of money thus thrown away, 
puffed into empty air, by those who pro- 
fess to be the disciples of Christ is incred- 
ible. There are hi:ndreds of members in 
our churches, who expend, at the lowes. 
rate twenty dollars annuilly for that, 
which not only is not bread, but poison, a 
sum exceeding their bi'uevolent con ribu- 
tions lor ever}' object whatever. 

And it is a sin because it injures health. 
No man has a right to jeopardize so val- 
uable a gift as health; and to destroy it, 
is suicide. That tobacco injures the 
heal.h, by enervating the system and by 
weakening the digestive organs, is settled 
beyond a reasonable doubt. But those 
who would frame an excuse for their hab- 
it may deny this. But what ails them ? 
Why such sallow counenances ? Wh}' 
such trembling hands'? Why so many 
complaints of dy.--pepsia ? Why such 
nau-ea '? "But this is not owing to my 
habi. of u-ing tobaci'o. (should i abstain 
from its use, I should immcdia;ely experi- 
ence injurious eftects. And then my 
physician recommends the use for this 
ihroat complaint., and catarrhal afl'ection." 
O fol-de-rol ! abju e this heathenisli habit, 
and we warrant you good iligestion, sound 
sleep, increased dimension, and a relieved 
conscience. For your conscience tnust 
trouble you. 

Reader, are you a consumer of the In- 
dian weed, and persist in denying its del- 
eterious effects upon you? Just look at' 
some of its elements. "Nicotine is a I 
most deadly poison, and is the essential j 
principle of tobacco. It was the poison 
recently used in the horrible murder of a 
wife's brother b}' Count Bocarme, in Bel- 
gium. Ortila, the celebrated toxicolist, 
has lectured upon it, and the Bocarme 
tiial has given birth, also, to several med- 
ical dissertations on the same subject — 
Virginia tobacco yields the largest propor- 
tion of nicotine; from twenty pounds were 
extracted four hundred grammes of the 
poison; a gramme is etjual to 16,444 
grains Troy. The Maryland leaf affords 
about one-third of that quantity. Nico- 
tine is nearly as powerful and rapid as 
prussic acid, with the animal economy. 



And yet men will persist in eating this 
deadly poison, saying that they cannot do 
wi bout it. 

If lobjcco ehewer-;, and *obacco smok- 
ers, will per^i^t in then- obnoxious habit, 
they. should colonize, herd toge her. and 
hive a territory, nfmaiphere, and all, espe- 
cially to themselves. 

Z. 



ABOUT BABIES. 
The influence exer'ed unconsciously 
upon a family, by a lit'le child, especially 
if it be beautiful, gentle and good, is not 
easil}' estimated. Few persons are aware, 
or take time to think how much ill feeling 
is prevented; how much good nature and 
affectionate emotion are evoked; how much 
dullness and gloom are banished by tne odd 
wars and sweet innocences of the dear 
toddling baby. Even the rebuke which is 
slilv ministered over baby's shoulders to 
some older bodv. lo^es its vinegar and pro- 
vokingness. Often, too. the brother or 
father, impatient for his meal that he may 
get to business, is cheated into foi-getful- 
ness while holding baby and listening to 
its funnv attempt to talk. How, we 
should like to know, can a man grumble 
that his steak is over or undone, or 
thit a button is off. or that his wife has 
made a bill at the dry ooods store, while 
babv is crowing in bis face or clambering 
on his knee ? Heaven's blessing on all 
good babies, we say. 

When baby comes tlio fitnily circle cries 
With g-reaf applause; it< little 'parklina; eyes 

Brijrhten all bosoms in that happy place; 
And saddest brows, and ffuiltiest, it maybe, 
Unwrinkled on a sudden but to see 
That innocent glad face. 

Yes, whe'her .Tune has greened the sward, or 

wh(-!her 
November d raws our touchTn.if chairs tog-ether 

T^ound a rrreat hou-eholH fire in quiet talk, 
When the child comes we feel a general cheer: 
With calls and lautrbtei-. and the mother's fear 
Seeing- it try to walk ! 

It looks so fair, the infant with its smile. 
Its soft sweet trust, it« voice that knows no guile. 
And would say all the grief it soon dismisses; 
Letting its pleaded and wondering glances roll— 
Oflferins to life, on all sides, its young soul. 
And its young mouth to kisses. 

To Preserve Pe.\ch Trees. — Clear the 
earth away immediately next to the trunk 
of the tree, down near the root, and then 
place two or three lumps of unslacked lime, 
about the size of a goose egg, next to the 
tree, and cover it over with a little earth. 
It will eradicate the worm, and in a short 
time give much vigor to the tree. The 
lime should be applied when the trees 
are young, but will answer as well for older 
trees, by increasing the quanity of lime 
about one-third. Once in three or four 
years is all that is necesary to ensure a 
vigorous, healthy tree. 



Excellence is never granted to man but 
as the reward of labor. It ari;-ues indeed 
no small strength of mind to persevere in 
habits of industry without the pleasure of 
preceiving those advances, which, Mke 
the hand of a clock, whilst they make 
hourly approaches to their point, yet pro- 
ceed so^slowly as to escape observation. 



40 



CLA'SSIC UNION. 



[From Autlim-'s Home fiazette.] 
SATURDAY AFTERJStOON". 

BY ELIZABETH G. BAKBEE. 

1 think some lieait, beside my own, must feel 

the joyous thrill. 
The memory of the happy Past can bring my 

spirt still; 
The memory of the holiday, so linhed -n-ith 

childhood's hours. 
Of spirits gay, and free as air, amid the birds 

and flowers. 
When the long thraldom o! the -week, with toils 

and tears was jiast, 
And the beautiful half holidaj^, long looked for, 

came at last — 
Away away, with bounding step, beneath the 

sky of Juno, 
While our hearts beat high with joy to hail bright 

Saturday afternoon. 

The afternoon in summer time, when 'neath a 

smiling sky. 
So still and beautiful and .green the meadows 

used to lie; 
Away we trod across the field, and up the hill 

side green, 
And down the cool, damp hollows, hid the old 

grey rocks between. 
Or clambering up the apple bough where birds 

sang on the spray, 
And the school boys laughed and sung beneath, 

as glad, as free as they — 
The vei'y sky looked- brighter still, the waters 

danced in tune. 
And the green earth seemed robed anew for 

Saturday afternoon. 

It was a joj'ous, joyous time, through all the 
livelong year. 

When winter brought its ice and snow, and skies 
.so cold and clear, 

Then loudly rang the skater's steel, or round tlie 
fireside hearth 

The merry witner's tales were told, or jests that 
wakened mirth; 

Or through the summer afternoon, a group with- 
in the barn 

Would li.st to Avoudrous fairy tale, or sailor's 
jovial yarn. 

Or speed the hoop on ceaseless round, or mar- 
bles ill the ring, 

Or send the snowy kite aloft upon the breeze of 
spring. 

The golrfen house at Plea=;ure's gate had doffed 
their sandal shoon — 

ButFather Time .■^ped quicker still on Saturday 
afternoon. 

Then, too, the bright eyed little girls kept pleas- 
ant holiday. 
And 'mid tlie hills and shadowy woods with 

close clasped hands would stray; 
Or gather flowers in the dell, with apple boughs 

o'er head. 
Or down upon the emerald grass their mimic 

feast would spread 
'Till far behind the sloping hills, the sun had 

sunk at last, 
And misty twilight shadows dim upon the earth 

were cast. 
And risins; slowly in the east, sailed up the 

golden moon. 
As if she hailed the peaceful close" of Saturday 

afternoon. 



I think, perhaps, some weai-y heart, amid the 
city's throng, 

Looks back upon the joyous time that hehas mis- 
sed so long; 

Could he but shake the shackles off and, with a 
heart of joy. 

Go forth as gaily to the fields as when he was a 

Oh! if amid the din of life, its maddening cease- 
less round. 

Some holidays undimmed by care, oasis-lik« 
were found, 

Then might we keep our .spirits young, our jar- 
ring hearts in tune 

With melodies that memory weaves for Saturday 
afternoon. 



HOARDIJTG WEALTH FOR CHILDREIir. 

The anxiety which many men exhibit to 
accumulate wealth for the pvirpose of en- 
dowing their children with fortunes, is not 
the dictate of prudence and common sense. 
The teachings of experience are very uni- 
form in' regard to tlie effect of entailing 
wealth upon children. With few excep- 
tions it is one of the worst uses to which 
wealth can be applied. And if parents 
wished to injure their children, they might 
be nearly sure of their end by hoarding- 
property for them and bringing them up 
with the understanding that they arc to 
inherit wealth without toil. 

For, in the first place, the children of 
such parents are deprived of the benefit 
and discipline of labor, and the ordinary 
and strongest incentives to industry and 
enterprise are of no force with them. — 
Children who knovf that their future wants 
are provided for by parental exertions and 
fondness, will, of course, not engage in 
anything which requires close application, 
earnest endeavor and self denial. They 
will grow up in indolence, love of ease, 
and ignorance of the ways and means of 
getting an independent living. A life of 
ease and idleness pre-disposes and exposes 
them to a thousand temptations and vices, 
to evil company, and to dangerous indul- 
gences. And in case of future reverses, 
to which all are exposed, they must be 
comparatively helpless and incapable of 
shifiing for themselves. 

Bifiiculties make the man. The neces- 
sity for labor, for rugged toil and self-de- 
nial, is a blessing, not a curse, and parents 
who seek to remove this necessity, inflict 
injury upon their offspring. Bv smoothing 
down the rough places in life s pathway, 
they- make their children puny, eilciuinate 
and v/orthless as regards, all high manly 
exertion. ' It is b)' encountering and con- 
quering difficulty that the heart and mind 
are made stout and strong. But those 
hoarding parents would prevent the possi- 
bility of their children having any difficul- 
ties, and they call this favoring their chil- 
dren! 

The daughters of hoarding parents are 
exposed not only to the evils just spoken 
of, but also, to become the prey of those 
gamblers in the lottery of marriage, who 
make the wife secondary to her fortune. 
There arc at all times numbers of such 
men prowling aroynd, vi'atching, their op- 
portunity at all places of fashionable re- 
sort, to remedy their own poverty or to 
repair their ruined fortunes by marrying 
wealthy young ladies. The possessioaof 
a large pi'operty by a young lady, while it 
makes men of real worth of character shy 
and afraid to ask their love, unless they 
have equal fortunes, operates as a snare 
of the most dangerous kind to entangle 
them with mere fortune hunters. And 
when these hunters of property obtain such 
ladies as wives, they are apt to consider 
thenias an incumbrance to the property 
and treat them accordingly. 
. We say to pai-ents, beware how j'ou en- 
danger the future character and happiness 
of your children by hoarding wealth for 
them to possess. If you wish them to 
form idle and vicious habits and compan- 



ions — to grow up incapable of manly ex- 
ertion and true independence — or if you 
wish to spread a snare to entrap mere for- 
tune hunters for your daughters' hus- 
bands, doubtless the course is to hoard all 
you can, and let them understand from 
childhood, that it is for them. But if you 
wish your children to be industrious, inde- 
pendent, self-relying, and happy, they 
must be taught to depend upon their own 
exertions. Give tlrem good educations; 
give them trades or professions; but give 
them not the means of living without care 
and exertion. 



LoxDON. If the streets of London 

were put together, would extend 3,000 
miles in length; the main thoroughfares 
are traversed by 3,000 omnibusses and 
3,500 cabs, employing 40,000 horses. — 
In 1849 the Metropohs alone consumed 
1,600,000 quarters of wheat, 240,000 
bullocks, 1,709,000 sheep, 28,000 calves 
and 35,000 pigs. One market alone sup- 
plied 4,024,000 head of game. London 
the same year ate 3,000,000 salmon, 
which were washed down by 43,200,000 
gallons of porter and ale, 2,000,000 gal- 
lons of spirits, and 65,000 pipes of wine. 
13,000 cows are yearly required for Lon- 
don milk, and reckoning two gallons a 
day from every cow, we have here, say 
72,000 gallons of "London peculiar" con- 
sumed, if not enjoyed, by the London in- 
habitants. 360,000 gas lights fringe the 
streets. London's arterial or water sys- 
tem supplies the enormous quantity of 
44,383,328 gallons per day; a thousand 
sail are employed in bringing annually to 
London 3,000,000 tons of coal, and to 
clothe and wait upon London's people we 
have no fewer than 23,516 tailors, 28,579^ 
boptmakei-s- 40,000 milliners and dress- 
makers, and 168,017 domestic servants. 



Self-moving Caeriage. — The Paris 
correspondent of the Philadelphia Bul- 
letin, in a letter, says — "Two years ago, 
I described for an American paper the 
self-moving carriage of M. Provost. Since 
that time, M. P. has traveled in it over a 
great part of France, visiting Tours, gau- 
mur, Orleans, Chartres, Havre, and oth- 
er places. He is now in Paris, on his 
way to Bordeaux. , He travels with ease 
to himself, for the force is not muscular 
streng.h applied to pedals or cranks, but 
the weight of his person, which puts in 
movement the machinery, on much the 
same principle v;ith the weight of a clock. 
On ordinary roads, (they are macadam- 
ized in France,) M. Provost travels from 
sixty to eighty miles a day. The carri- 
age is about six feet by three, and the ma- 
chinery not visible from the outside." 

Said the distinguished Lord Ghantam 
to his son, "I would have inscribed on the 
curtains of your bed and the walls of your 
chember, ' If you do, not rise eariy, you 
can make p]-ogress in nothing. If you do 
not set apart your hours of reading, if you 
sufl'er yourself or any one else to break in 
upon them, your days will slip through 
your hands unprofitable and frivolous, and 
uncnjoyed by youself.' " 



CLASSIC UNION. 



■17 



[From tlie EdiDburg Eev.io'n-.] 

" THE USEFUL MORE Ei'DUPJK G THAS' 

THE BEATTIFUL. 

The tomb of IKses is unknovrn; but 
the traveler slackes his thirst at the well 
of Jacob. The gorgerous_ palace of the 
wisest and wealthiest of monarchs, with 
the cedar, and the gold, and the ivory; and 
even the great temple of Jerusalem, hal- 
lowed by the visible glory of the Deity 
himself, ai-e gone; but Solomon's reser- 
voirs are as perfect as ever. Of the an- 
cient architecture of the Holy City, -not 
one stone is left upon another j but 
the pool of Bethesda commands the pil- 
grim's reverence at the present day. The 
columns of the Persopolis are moulder- 
ing into dust; but its- cisterns and aque- 
ducts remain to challenge our admiration. 
The golden house of Nero is a mass of 
ruins; but the Acqua Claudia siill povirs 
into Rome it's limpid stream. The tem- 
ple of the sun at Tadmor in the wilder- 
ness, has fallen; but its fountain sparkles 
as freely in his rays, as when the thous- 
ands of worshipers thron ged its colonnades. 
It may be that London will share the fate 
of Babylon, and nothing he left to mark its 
site, save mounds of crumbling brick-work. 
The Thames will continue to flow as it 
doesnow. 

And if any work of art should rise over 
the ocean of time, we may well believe 
that it will neither be a palace nor a tem- 
ple, but some vast aqueduct or reservoir; 
and if any name should slill flash through 
the midst of antiquity, it will probably 
be that of the man who in his day sought 
the happiness of his fellow men, rather 
than their glory, and linked his memory 
to some great work of national utility and 
benevolence. This is the true glory which 
outlives all others, and shines with undy- 
ing lustre from generation to generation — 
impaling to works something of its own 
immortality, and in some degree rescuing 
them from the ruin which overtakes the 
ordinary monuments of historical tradi- 
tion, or mere magnificence. 



Although we are accustomed to think of 
heaven as distant, of this we Cave noproof. 
Heaven is the union, the society, of spirit- 
ual, higher beings. May not these till the 
universe? Milton has said, 

■Olillions of spiritual beings walk the earth. 
Both wheu we wake aud when we sleep." 

A new sense, a new eye, might show the 
spiritual world compassing us on every side. 
Whilst we know not to what place our 
friends go, we know what is infinitely 
more interesting, to what beings they oo. 
We know not where heaven is, but we 
know whom it contains; and this know- 
ledge opens to us an infinite field for con- 
templation and delight. 



CHRIST'S TEACHING ON UNIVERSAL 
SALVATION. .. 
On one occation diirring our Saviour's 
ministry the question was puthirri, "Lord 
are there few that be saved?'' If Christ 
had been preaching tjie final salvation of 
ail men, it is strange' that such a question 
should have been proposed to him. Yet 
he manifested no surprise at it._ He did 
not reprove or coiTect the inquirer for hav- 
ing dishonored the goodness of. God by the 
supposition that any would be finally lost. 
He did not refer hini -to his past teachings 
to learn that all would be saved. Nor did 
Christ advance the doc'rine of universal 
salvation. Never had he a better opportu- 
nity. The question was directly to that 
point, are there few that be saved? What 
did he answer? Did he say all men shall be 
saved?-' Did he even say, ■mamj — the great 
majority of mankind — -hall be saved? 
Did he say, a just aud benevolent God 
will never punish any after this life? His 
answer was, "Strive to enter heaven by 
an incesant warfare with sin" — "for many 
I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and 
shall not 'De able." Vv'hoever may preach 
universal salvation, and upon whatever 
aurthority, certain it is, that Christ preach- 
ed no such doctrine. 

Questions C)f Mokality. — Balzac or 
some other French author, propounds the 
following curious question in morals: If oi:c 
knew that by crooking his little finger, 
some distant relative — say for')' sevenUi 
cousin in some remote part of the world, 
would die whereby I he person would in- 
herit an immense estate, ought he to be 
particularly carel'ul not to crook his finger? 

At the present day, whatever sound mor- 
ality might dictate, if there were many 
large estates depending on such contingen- 
cies we predict there would be an immense 
crooking of little fingers. And if it could 
so happen that every one might reap great 
benefits, at the expense of others, by so 
simple an e.xpedient, crooked fingers would 
soon become a national deformity. For 
example, if Cuba could be wrested from 
Spain, or Canada, from Great Britain, or a 
few Mexican States from our sister Repub- 
lic, by so easy' a process, we fear, the na- 
tion woidd very speedily crook its "fiinger, 
without stopping to weigh very carefully 
the morality of the act. Now-a-days nice 
questions of morals are not very scrupu- 
lously considered where large profits are 
concerned. — St. Louis Intel ir/encer. 



Mrs. Ho'v^^rd. — Th« philanthropic How- 
ard was blessed with a wife of singularly 
congenial disposition. On settling his ac- 
counts one year, he found a balance in his 
favor, aud proposed to his wife to spend the 
money on a visit lo the metropolis for her 
gratification. "What a beautiful cottage 
for a small family might be built with that 
money,'' was the benevolent reply. The 
couple enjoyed the greatest of all gratifica- 
tions, the satisfaction of having done good 
for its own sake. 

Ask akd Te Shall Receive. — " The siui stoops 
not more- readily to warm the Cower that opens 
to -receive his beams, than does the Holy Spirit to 
strengthen and bless the soul that desires his in- 
fluence." 

Rl'jisellees. — They cliai'ge their customers as 
soldiers do guns — to have widows and orphans 
weep attlie discharge. 

0° That is a pretty thought of one of our 
poets 

■" 'V.''oman is the heart of a family 
If man the head." 

'When the heart is right, the head seldom goes 
astray. 

An old farmer in Ohio, who was anxious 
to havo his minister dismissed, was- asked 
the reason. 'I hav-e heard say,' was the 
reply, 'that a change of pastors makes fat 
calves, and I'm in for a change.' 

Aunt Betsy has said many good thing — 
among the rest, that a newspaper is like a 
wife, because every man had ought to have 
one of his own. 

It is stated the the drought is so severe 
on tlie road between Pittsburgh and Wash- 
ington that travelers have not been able to 
procure water for their horse at one dollar 
per bucket! 

There is a girl at the Troy Seminary 
with such dimples in her cheeks, that you 
might use them for cottec cujis. Of her 

1 eyes, 'blue and oval,' like plums, we shall 

j speak in an extra. 

I A Broker without money, is a good deal 
] like a man with a good set of teeth and noth- 
ing to eat. He is willing to bite, but where 
is the goooO to do it ou? 

Father Mathew has determined to delay 
his departure from this country till 25th 
Octobei', when he will leave in one of the 
CoUins line of steamers, in acceptance of 
Mr. Collins' offer to of a free passage. 



To all men, and at all times, the best 
friend is virtue; and the best companions 
are high endeavors and honorable sen- 
timents. 



To repeat what you have heard in social 
intercourse is sometimes a sad trechery; 
and when it is not treacherous, it is often 
foolish. 



In'sect Life. — Professor Agazez- says 
more than a lifetime wouTd be necessary 
to enumerate the various species of insects 
and describe their appearances. Meiger, 
a Gi^rman, collected and described 6000 
species of flies, which iie collected in a dis- 
trict ten miles in circumference. There 
have been collected in Europe 26,000 spe- 
cies of insects preying on wbeat. ' In Ber- 
lin, two professors are engaged in collect- 
ing, observing and describing insects and 
their habits, and already they have pub- 
lished five large volumes upon the insects 
which attack forest trees. 



Macadlat's History' of England.— The third 
and fourth vokunesftre on the' ere of publication. 



M.4EEIED on the 15th inst., by the Rev. "Wm. 
Eagleton, Mnj. John W. Childress, to Miss Ma- 
ry E., eldest daughter of the Hon. Joseph Phil- 
ips, all of Rutherford County. 



Died. — In this county, on Friday 10th inst., 
Mmitha, daughter of the late Hosea and Sarah 
Northcott. 

Died. — Ou the 7th inst., near this city, Leji- 
velM. BAiKDjEsq., for many years an esteemed 
citizen of this county. 



CISKISTT'^ & STETYAKT, 

DRY GOODS MERCHANTS, 

EAST SIRE 

PUBLIC SQUARE, 

M-Jifreesborongh, Tenn. 



48 



CLASSIC UNION. 



[From the Louisville Journal.] 
TIS THE HOUR OF PARTING. 

A soya TO AiTflE TT. 

'Tis the hour of parting, when silence and sad- 
ness 
Sit weeping in sorrow o'er the heart's sacred 
fane, 
Where late were enshrined all those bright 
dreams of gladness 
That attuned the soul's lyre to extacy's strain. 

The pulse now beats wildly the bosom is 

.swelling 
With strange wild emotions that no language 
can tell; . 
The pure dew of feeling to the eye is fast wel- 
ling. 
And the trembling lip murmurs a mournful 
- farewell. 

Those bright orbs above us, so rich in their 
splendor. 
And mild in their influence as thy love is in 
tliee. 
May oft light the soft hours of lovers most ten- 
der. 
But ne'er as they have shone for thee, love, and 
me. 
The flow'rs that have shed round our pathway 
their brightness — 
The mocking-bird's song that we list in the 
bower, 
May again charm the air with their beauty and 
lightness. 
But not as they have done in love's sacred 
hour. 

I go to the distance — my footsteps are way 
ward — 

One country's as dear as another to me. 
For since Fate has decreed that our hearts must 
be severed. 
Sure this world is the same, though on land 
or on sea. 
I go as the sea-bird that,s fabled in story 
"To sleep on the wing when its loved one is 
lost: 
The wide world's my home but all 'dreams of 
its glory 
Live only as wrecks on a wild- ocean tossed. 

But where e'erl may go, one hope will still bless 
ine — 
A lone star left shining midst the gloom of 
the night — I 

A treasure of which there is naught can divest ' 
me, ; 

That oft shall awaken fondest dreams of de- 
light. 
It is; that in moments like this thou wilt hearken 
To mem'rys that will strive on thy heart 
.strings to play, ; 

And thougli they may serve thy gay spirit to ' 
dai'ken. 
Will turn thy thoughts to me, where e'er I 
may stray. 

And when years shall have faded, and friends 
have forsaken. 
And thy lovers are lost in the midst of the 
throng. 
Cheer thyself with the solace, that there's one 
heart unshaken. 
That still makes thee its theme and its bur- 
then of song: 
A heart theart that still loves thee, hower'er un- 
required. 
And finds pleasure enough in that love to re- 
pay 
The sorrow and sadness of its early hopes 
blighted. 
That were as sweet iu their joys as swift in 
decay. 



"Keep thy Heart." — You have noth- 
ing which is in such danger of being neg- 
lected as your heart. Your outward man- 
ners — your personal appearance — your 
exteral culture — are far more like!}' to re- 
ceive your attention than your heart; for 
these are open to the public inspection of 
men, and are therefore objects of your dai- 
ly thought and care. But your heart is as 
something shut out from the direct view 
of men, and therefore you are greatly 
tempted to neglect it. 

"Keep thy heart." You have nothing 
which is so important to carefully watch 
and guard as this Evil thoughts, purposes 
and desires cannot be allowed to harbor 
here without d-;nger. If they do not show 
themselves in form, they will at length 
show themselves in tiair eiieels upon the 
outward character. 

"Keep thy heari. ' There is nothing 
which i., is more Jii.icul; lo keep in order. 

"The heart is deceitful above all Jiings." 
You will need often tooi'er the pra3'er of 
David, "Search me, God, and know ray 
heart, try me, an J know m}' thoughts; and 
see if there be an}' evil way in me, and lead 
me in the way everlasting." 

'■Keep ihy heart." There is a great 
reward in so doing. Your care and 
wa;chiulness will return in rich and abun- 
dant bleessings upon you. If the heart [ 
is right, all is right. — ^^. Y. Evangelist. 



Old Style Hvmks. The following 

verses are correct specimens of the hymns 
sung in the Congregational churches be- 
fore the days of Dr. Watts, and which 
were gradually made to give place to the 
hymns now in use, as the taste for har- 
monj' and beauty increased in our 
churches. The following verses should 
be deaconed oil and .sung one line at the 
time: 

" 'Tis like tlie precious ointment 

Down Aaroir's beard did go: 
Down Aaron's beard it downward went, 
His garment skirts unto." 

" Te monsters of the bubbling deep. 

Tour Maker's praises spout; 
Up from the sands ye codlings peep 

And wag your tails about. 

There is much truth if not poetry in the 
following: 

" The race is not forever got 

By him who fa^te.st runs: 
Nor the ba;tle by tho:ie people, 

Wlio shoot the longe.st guns." 

The following address to the sun, chimes 
very^yell with die preceding, although of 
mure modern origin: 

" All hail thou glorious sun ! 

Bright a- a new tin pan ! 
Thou roundest, fairest, purest source — 

Of bread and chee-eto man 1" 



Planters of trees ought to encourage 
themselves, by considering all future time 
as present; indeed such consideration 
would be a useful principle to all men in 
their conduct of life, as respects both this 
world and the next. 



He that would do good to others, with- 
out practicing self-deni-d, does but dream 
— the way of philanthropy is ever up hill, 
and not unfrequently oi^er rugged rocks 
and through thorny paths. 

Even the maligancy of man is rendered 
subservient to the general and ultimate end 
of devine providence, which is to bring all 
animated beings to happiness. 



Some writers and speakers are apt to 
deal too exuberantly in the one article — 
fancy; and, through you are amused for the 
moment with the rocket showers of brilh- 
antandmany-tined ideas that fall sparkling 
around you, when the exhibition is ended 
you are disappointed to find that the whole 
was momentary, and that from the ruby 
and emerald rain scarcelj^ one gem of 
solid thought remains. 

It requires more courage to think differ- 
ent from the multitude than it does to fight 
them. The first hero, therefore, was not 
he who made the first conquest, but he 
who uttered the first doubt. 

Moderation is commonly firm, and firm- 
ness is commonly successful. 

Inviolable fidelity, gool-humor, and 
complacency of temper, outlive all the 
charms of a fine face, and make the de- 
cays of it invisable. 

Persons who are always cheerful and 
good-humored are very useful in the 
world; they maintain peace and hap- 
piness, and spread a thankful temper 
amongst all who live around them. 

Conceit is to nature what paint is to 
beatity, it is not only needless, but im- 
pairs what it wotild improve. 



TVIL,1,IA]K ST)E"WAKT, 

M.uiKET St., a feiv doors below Church St., west 

side, nearly opposite Lanier 4" Bro., 

MANUFACTURER OF 

COPPER, 'I'lN & SHEET IROK WARES, 

KEEPS con.stantly on hand all kinds of Im- 
proved COOKING STOVES; also. Stoves 
of various kinds, such as Parlor, Hal], Fluted, 
Box, 7 and 10 plate Stoves. Also, improved 
Coal Stoves, of all kinds; Enambled and Plain - 
Mantle Grates. Castings of all kinds. 

Job Work solicited, and executed with neat- 
ness and despatch. Feathers, Ginseng, Bees- 
wax, Pewter, and Old Copper, taken in exchange 
for wares, <Src. 

!Er Orders from the country respectfully so- 
licited and punctually attended to. octll 



THE TEIVIVESSEE 

BAPTIST FEMALE INSTITUTE, 

Murlreesborough. 

THE Trustees of this Institutioutake pleasure 
in announcing that they have made arrange- 
ments for the immediate organization of this 
School. Tlie first session will commence in the 
Baptist Church, on the first Monday iu August, 
under tlie superintendence of Mrs. J.H. Eatcv, 
who will be assisted by as many competent 
teachers as thewantsofthelnstitule may require. 

Efforts are being made to erect immediately, 
commodious and suitable buildings. 

The ccrarse of instruction will be as thorough 
as any Female Scliool in our country. Arrange^ 
ments have been made to accommodate a num- 
ber of young ladies with Board in the best pri- 
vate families on reasonable terms. 
RATES OF TUITION. 

1st Class, with Greek and Latin, §20 00 
Do without " •' 16 00 

2nd Class 12 00 

3rd Olas 



TERMS: 

The Classic Uxio:? will be published on the 
first and fifteenth of each month, at One Dol- 
lar per year, invariably in advance. Address 
M HiLLSMAN, post paid. 

Pulished at the office of the Rutherford Tele- 
graph, South-west Corner of the Square. 





DEtOTED TO -RELIGION",. LITERATURE, AXD .GEXERAL IXTELLIGEXCE. 



VOL.! 



MURFREESBOROUGH, NOVEAIBER 1, 185.1. 



2fO. i. 



THE MEANS OF PERMANENCY IN AilER- 
ICAN COLLEGES. 



Money alone will not secure the prosper- 
ity of American Colleges. They have 
wants which gold cannot supply. The 
buildings, the librarj', the cabinet, the fac- 
ulty, — all that money can purchase, are 
not, of themselves, sufficient to guard a 
school against destruction. It was not for 
the want of money that the honored Uni- 
versity of Nashville was compelled to sus- 
pend its operations. Its various bijildings 
cost about $70,000. It contains^ about 
11,000 volumes in its labrary. It pos- 
sesses a cabinet among the richest in 
America. It owns property and money 
to the amount of $200,000 and upwards. 
It may also be said with equal truth that 
poverty is not the cause of the present 
low estate of East Tennessee University, 
for her means are amply sufficient for all 
her wants. 

Money then we say is not the only thing. 
which is necessary to secure th« perma- 
nency of American Colleges. Though 
they cannot exist wilhoiil it, yet witli it 
they may fail. 

For a College to possess lasting worth 
its course of iminlction must be of -such a 
nature as to adopt it to this object. The 
single purpose of all schools is to furnish 
to 3'oung men such an education as will 
prepare them for future life; and if the 
course of study is not 'of such a character 
that it will secure this object, this fact 
- may be the cause of the decay or death of 
the institution where it exists. 

That a school may be permanent, its 
course of study must be thorough. The 
opinion has become prevalent, I believe, 
that a College cannot be popular unless it 
is superficial, and I doubt not that this er- 
roneous opinion has been the cause of the 
downfall of many an institution of learn- 
ing. It is true indeed that, especially in 
this country, no school can be permanent 



iinless it possesses the -favor of '{he people. 
But-that popularity which is purchased at 
the expense of .thorough" learning is val- 
ueless, for it/ ■will last- o'nly until-its. cause 
is known. The school which attempts'to 
gain populatity, by loweiing its. "literary 
character to what it is pleased to .believe 
the lev-el of the popular taste, will most 
certainly lose that for .which tt-sought.^- 
The favor of the people, witliout which 
nothing in this country can prosper, iscon- 
ferred, not upon those who. swerve from 
the right to please ihem,. but .upoathos.e 
\vho honestly labor to do thein good.. 

But it IS not true that the popular taStiJ 
demands a superticial course of jiristruction 
in our Colleges. On. the contrary, . I be- 
lieve that their favor with the people is 
alwaj's proportionate to the completeness 
of their cour.se of study. A course of iur 
struction too superficial, 1 doubt not, has 
been one cause Qf the failure «■{ many of 
our Western schools, A young gentle- 
man who graduates at College is expected 
to be an accomplished scholar; but , when 
he goes out into the world,, and is found to 
be only an iynoramus, with all his .learning 
on his' sheep skia, the -people, very nat- 
urally, lose- all respect for \ha- Alma-Muter 
who brought such a son ilito" the world: 
and thus she misses that popularity, which 
she sought by lowering, the standard ef 
learning, in conformity to that popular 
taste, which she now finds, when it is too 
late, to be far higher than the depreciated 
standard which she had formed for her- 
self. 

Every College ought, to adopt the prin- 
ciple, never to confer hgr honors on any 
one whose literary standing, is not such as 
to render him worthy of her hpnoKS., It-is 
the rule, I believe, with ■• our., schools to 
ffraduate eyery one - who passes through 
what is set down in thtir Civtalogues as 
their Tegular four years course. The cu-s- 
tom has become so general, I believe, that 
Professors are beginning to consider them- 
selves morally bound to sign the Diploma 



of every young man who has been under 
their tuition for foiir. years." The piece of 
parchment sccms'to be. given as the pay- 
ment of a debt, "for value received." — 
Sucli aiiUle as -tliis, ' if ciarried much far- 
ther, will tillour land "with griiduated 
dunces, "ari.d caiise the people" to lose res- 
pect" for. the Colleges frbm.which they em- 
anate'd". ; The idea ought to be. forever 
ob'.iterate"d from tl>e mind of every T^'acli- 
er and Trustee of eveiy school'in the lantl, 
that any particular. <('nie of stiid'y. entitles 
the student to the honors of graduation. 
ISot- the time of sti'.iy, 'hut the stamlai-d of 
scholarship, should be th6 test. Gradua- 
"tinn was designed to be^i, mark of honor 
tolho'sc who excel, not "aiiebt to be paid 
to every drone who may spend four year^ 
of liis'life in College. 

To secui'e tlie perraanejat»«u'"' :-• nf a 
College, its" course of instruction must 
posses^,- not only completeness, but a 
something besides, which I will call oi/r/yy- 
tatioit. ■ it must" be suited to the age, the 
country,' the student. 

Two.centuries .ago, a collegiate ^iduca- 
tion v,'as, "and ought to have been a very 
tiifferenttllirig from "what it nuw is, and 
ought' to b'e, ^because the reseaiches of 
modern sc'c.nec! have laid open new tields 
of inves^gatio.n. which in that iige were 
unknown.' £o also in this cuuiuiy, tlie 
course of stud}' ought to be diffei-ent, in 
many respects, from that which would be 
proper in Gciina.ny or England, owing to 
the differences between the laws and tl e 
character of the people of Araeiica, and 
of the nations of -E-urope. And so again, 
in the same age and nation, there ou'> lit 
to be such a diversity in the course of in- 
struction as to adapt itself tu the Viiiiuus 
mental pecuharities of different siudenis. 
aiid to the various professions' which,, in 
future life, they expect to engnge in. 
"■ There are two things, howe-vt-r, vliicU 
ought to form a prominent part in 'uhe 
course of instruction of every College, ni 
every nation and every age. The oi.c is 



s© 



CLASSIC U^^IOK. 



the Mnthevuitirs; and the other is the Clas- found and rolling melody *of thtir periods, 
sicg. In the language of Dr. Whewtll, — and, above all, the burning thoughts fluw- 
"NoeducHtion can be consiJered as liberal ing forth, from the pent up tires wi hin, in 
■which does not cultivate both the faeultj-of words so bcauti-ful' that we scarcely know 
reason and the faculty of language, one which it is that we are admiring, the 
of which is cultivated by ihe study of thoughts, or the words .in which they are 
Mathematics, and the other, by the study clothed — there Is nothing ."like iKts in all 
of the Classics. To allow, the student to' the books of medern times. ' It-may be 
omit one of these is to leave him" half ed-} true that their Antiq.uity has fliing around 
ucated. If a .person cannot receive siich^ them a deceitful lustra, and reveals them 



culture he remains, in the one case,. ii:ra- 
tional, and, in the other, illiterate." ■ ' 
The great object of an education' .is twd- 



rhore glorious than they are. And, be it 
60 ! Who Would love themJess, or.tliink- 
them le-^s worthy of his study, because 



fold— first, that mind mfiy be taught to.,"|.]jg ^and of time had wreathed around 
t/iinlc, and secondly, that it may learn to ^},g^. ^■[^^ laurels of two thousand wars? 



communicale; and the mind which can. best 
accomplish these two things is best educa- 
ted. 



The Artist, who wishes to learn the sci- 
ence of communicating thought by his 
peneilr-goes to Rome or Florence thathe 



To effect the former, is the peculiar ; ^^y gt^jy tjjg gj.gat models of his art, the 
pTOvince of Mathematical study. It ' master-pieces of the past, the paintings of 
teaches the mind to fix its attention— to ^j^.^p^^..^;] ^j. Angelo. So,let the scholar, 
collect and concentrate its thoughts, to|.,^.j^Q would learn the- more ' mysterious 
abstract itself from all intruding objects, j science of cemmunicating thought, by 
and look directly at the point before it.— j ^o^jg^ carefully study the great master- 
Men generally are skimmers over the st"- j pieces of li-is art, aswritteiron thepagesof 
face of things. They know not bow .-to tj^g Classics. -Let him study their words, 
think. They need something rigid. Tlicy j ^^^^j^ phrases, their sentences-,— so happily 
require unerring demonstration and abso- , ^^^^^^^^^^ g^ inimitably faultjess, such perfect 
hite truth. Now Mathematicd discipline [ pi,^„„.3 ^f thought. Let him -study them 
is the best thing in the world to supply this , ^^^jjj^^j.^.^,^ ^,^^.j,. p^^.^^^ appreciates their 



want of man's nature. The hard study 
•and intense thought, which it affords to the 
mind, can hardly be gained from any other 
source. It makes men thinkers. It deals 
with pure truth, unmixed with error. It 
teaches to compare, to analyze, to sift, to 
find out truth, to see tli^ relation of one 
truth to another, to compare and combine 
one with another, to rise from- one to an- 
other, and, step by step, to ascend to the 
contemplation of the loftiest truths fn the 
universe. This powtr of concentrated 
thought is the greatest power that God 



beauty, and incorporates them into his soal. 
This will teach liim how to communicate 
thought in words as it ought to be commu- 
nicated — even as the painter learns to ex- 
press it by his pencil. This will unlock to 
him treasures which he had never dreiimed 
of. . It will teach hmi the beauty of sim- 
plicity, the grandeur of proportion, and the 
foi'ce of brevity as he rrever learned them 
before. A thousand forins of beauty will 
continually pass before his mental vision; 
and their future recollection, like the mem- 
ory of long forgotten music, will continual 



has given us, and no man can be educated ■ ]y\^ aunt the imagination and fill the soul 
without its . cultivation. Mathematics with the most delightful thoughts. 
ought, therefore, to take a high place in j^j^j j ]^^^.^ intimated that in oratory 
the course of study of all our Colleges. especially, the Classic, far transcends the 
The mind however, as I have said, was modern world. Milton can be compared 
made, not only to think, but to corrt»MraJfa/e with Homer, or Shakspeare with Euripi- 
thouylit; and that it may be educated, des, or Gibbon with Thucidides, and not 
there must be a cultivation of this scarcely be" dishonored by the comparison. But 
less important science. To accomplish where is the man who can be placed alon 



this, is the object of Classical study. 

There is no denying of the fact, and the 
most casual reader can observe it, that 
there are vast differences between the 
writings, and especially the oratory, of an- 
cient and of modern times. The exquis- 
ite taste «nd abbreviated force of their 
sentences, the varied and perfect excel- 
lences of their diction, the great and com- 
prehensive powers of their language, the 



orators. Such delicate colorings of 
thought,— so beautifully painled, and in 
words so expressive,- that they lose half 
their charm-by being translated; such con- 
densation of language — so much com- 
pressed that it re<juires^^half a dozen 
words in English to ^ive the meaning- of 
one in the original; such order and con- 
gruity of expression; such mellow phases 
of feeling flung over the page tosoften the 
excessive brightiiess; such an entire ab- 
sence of all superfluous ornariient,- of all 
extravagance of expression, of. all strain- 
ing after efl'ect, — hardly will "we find, even 
in the best speoimeris-of modem eloquence 
a parallel to this. 

If we would learn to communicate 
" thoughts that breathe" in " words that 
burn," we must stud)' the Cla;ssics. There 
Milton learned how to write the Paradise 
Lost. Thence Shakspeare imbibed the 
spirit and form of the .Drama. There 
Gibbon caiight the perfection of the histo- 
ric style. Thither the greatest orators in 
the world have gone to learn their -art. — 
The study of the master-pieces of antiq- 
uity is the great school, where the youth 
of every nation should resort, that they 
may learn the science of the expression of 
thought. 

" Tlionce, to tlie famous Orators repair, 
Those Ancients, -n-hose resistless eloqiience 
"Wielded, at will, that fierce democracy, 
Shook the Arsenal, andfidniine'd ovei- Greece 
To Macedon and Artascersees' throne." 

In every College then the course of 
study should contain the Mathematics and 
the Classics. Tiiese should be the unal- 
terable studies, while other things should 
vary' to suit the taste and future profession 
of students. It would be well, of course, 
for all to arrive at an accurate knowledge 
of every science which can possibly, come 
within the province of a collegiate educa- 
tion. But as " art is long and life is short," 
this is impossible. All men, -however, 
whatever their taste or character or future 
profession may be, should be thoroughly 
instiucted in Mathematics and in the Clas- 
sics; because all men ought to know, both 
how to think, and to communicate thought. 

Such is the course of instruction which 
our Colleges should adopt if they would 
hope to be permanent. Eooted and 
grounded in the principles of Mathemati- 
cal and Classical study, they should adapt 
themselves to the various wants of the 
people and the age. Such a course of 
study cannot but be permanent. It pre- 
pares the mind, in the best possible man- 
ner, for the duties of life and the service 



with Demosthenes. We have, I know, a 
large number of good orators, both in 
England and America, in the pulpit, at tlie 
bar and in the national halls: but, in vain 
do we look, in all their addresses — except 
perhaps in a very few paragraphs of a 
very few speecht3S,- — for that strange pow- 
er, so fascinating to the soul, which holds 
us in enchantment, while we read, in their of God. Combining the discipline of the 
original languages, the orations of Classic | reason with the cultivation of the taste, it 



CLASSIC UNIO: 



invigorates and enriches the mind by a 
< oaib'.n>ition of studies to which nothing 
else can be cornja-ed and for which no 
substiti te ca \ be found. Such a course of 
study possesses, in itself, the elements of 
its own stabi'i'y Laying its foundations 
am' n^ the immutable laws of a rigid 
Alatheraatics, and rearing its walls to 
Heaven, beaming with the decorous splen- 
dors of Classic lore, its. basis is too firm, 
and its walls too secure even to be swept 
away by the tide of time. 

For the Classic ITnion. 
FEMALE EDUCATION. NO 2. 

' In a previous No.we alluded to the fact 
that very few ladies pursue their educa- 
tion far enough to acquire a genuine ta^te 
for intellectual pleasures, very few lay so 
broad and deep the foundations of knowl- 
edge, that a lofty superstructure can be 
erected thereon. We also endeavored to 
show that the mission of woman is one of 
so much importance, that the powers o' 
her mini cannot .remain uncultlviited 
without incalculable loss and injury to so- 
ciety. 

If this be true, it becomes us to enquire 
why there are so few thoroughly educated 
ladies among us? It is not because pa- 
rents are unwilling to incur expense in the 
education of their daughters. Many 'of 
them are ready to make any sacrifice to 
procure for their daughters the very best 
advantages within their reach, and after 
all, a woman of well trained mind, and 
extensive knowledge, is a phenomenon of 
rare occurrence. Is it then because fe- 
male pupils are wanting in capacity, and 
incapable of a high degree of mental cul- 
ture? Oris it because «heir Teachers are 
■wanting in fidelity and zeal? We an- 
swer neither. We believe that a large 
share of the blame for the present super- 
ficial character of temale education rests 
■with gentlemen. 

It is not in the nature of the human 
mind to act without a motive, and though 
the necessity of thorough mental culture, 
in order to prepare females for the suc- 
cessful discharge of the responsible duties 
that will hereafter devolve upon them as 
Mothers and Mistresses of families, is the 
strongest argument in favor of a high stan- 
dard of female education, yet these duties 
are too distant, and in respect to each in 
dividual they are too uncertain, to operate 
as a motive on the minds of young girls. 
Prepuration for duties which seem to them 
distant and uncertain, cannot form a mo- 
tive powerful enough to overco.ne the nat- 
ural indolenc« of the haman mind, and se- 



I cure that intense application to study 
j which is necessary to the full develope- 
j ment of its powers. 

I But the desire to appear well in society 
] --ind especialh' to make an agreeable im- 
pression upon the other sex, is an ever pref - 
■ ent and powerful motive with the young.— 
No exertion is spared, which is regarded a' 
I necessary for the accomplishment of thi 
I object. Let our f ociarliabits be so chan- 
; ged that the want of intelligence cannot 
exist without its being felt in society, and 
the- standard of female education wouk' 
soon be elevated. If gentlemen seemed 
to prefer to converse on literary topics, 
young ladies would be eager for knowledge 
hat they might prepare themselves foi 
such conversation. They would be un 
willing to be ignorant of any thing whicl 
they expected to be called on to converst 
about in ihe circles in which they move. 

But how do even our best educated gen 
tlemen, now attempt to entertain young 
ladies? Mr. A- nrtcetsMissB. at a party 
and enters into conversatio-n with her. Al- 
ter the usual remarks about the weathei 
&c., he begins to tell her how extce mel- 
well she looks to-night, how very becoming 
her dress is &c., and then tnking itfui 
granted that she is envious as well as vain, 
he begins to speak disparagingly of the 
appearance of Miss C. who he declares 
does not look as well as usual, she is get- 
ting decidedly ug'y. and her iigure never 
was graceful Next comes up the flirta- 
tion of Mr. D. wi;h Miss E. and that re- 
minds Mr. A. of something in the last 
new nov«lr which he presumes Miss B. has 
read. Then follow a few trite remarks on 
the threadbare subject of love, snd Mr. 
A. conr'ves to introduce Miss B. tosome 
other gentleman, while he passes on to 
say the very same things to tlie next lady 
he meets. Now what reason have ladies 
who ar* treated in this manner to suppose 
that gentlemen regard thera a& rational 
beings, or that they would value rationality 
in them even if they believed them to pos- 
sess it? The invariable inference is thft 
gentlemen value nothing in ladies but ex- 
•ernal appearance, this leads young la- 
dies to devote their whole time and atten- 
tion to the subject of dress, and thus the 
priceless gem of intellect subserves no 
higher purpose than to adorn the perish- 
able casket that contains it. It maybe 
supposed by some that these usages of 
society do not affect the progess of young- 
girls at school who have not yet entered 
society, and are therefore ignorint of 
iJiem. This, however, is an entire miscake 
Girle obsirve «t a very fearly ego 'whtet 



those older than themselves regard ks 
most important, and they learn to esti- 
mate tlie value of things accordingly. As 
they approach womanhood they see la- 
iies making a figure in society, whose at- 
.ainments they know to be very superfici- 
al, and hence their willingness to enter 
society before they are prepared for ration- 
al intercourse wiih cultivated minds. — 
These influences aflfect girls through the 
whole of their course of study, and it is 
impossible for teachers to prevent it Let 
-gentlemen treat ladies as if they were 
rational and intelligent beings, and they 
will soon become so. Let them banish 
.Vom conversation the idle gossip that now 
engroses it, and substitute in its place : ub- 
jccts of real interest and importance, the 
events of past ages, the writings of the 
giant intellects of our own and former 
limes, the wonderful developements of 
physical science, and questions of men- 
tal and ethical philosophy. Then will he 
demands of society form a str j»rg motive 
for close application on the part of yoiing 
jadies while pursuing their studies. Thty 
will no longer be satisfied wi.h a parual or 
superficial course.. 

But at present gentleman give the whu'e 
weight of their influence to render ladies 
mere Dutterflies, and then complain Uiat 
hey are so. '»' hey marry these butter" 
flies, and when contact with the s era re 
alities of life Las rubbed ofl' tl... (.,■■ ■ ng 
that adorned their wings, they are sur- 
prised to find that nothing attractive re- 
mains. They blame that weakn ss. ih y 
themselves have fo tred, and are ready to 
find fault with the feebleness of puipose 
which is incapable of holding the reins of 
house-hold goverr ment, with a firm and 
s.eady hand. And some even- excuse them- 
selves for neglecting their homes, and seek- 
incr society abroad, because they c.t.n tii d no 
intellectual companionship at tlieir own 
fireside. The flippant nonsense that wns 
so. very agreeable, as an occasional amuse- 
ment, in the young girl, is quite ar.otl.er 
thing in the Mother ind Mistress of a 
family, and nothing is mere tiresome ihi'n 
the volubility of one who is incap b e of 
thought. But whose, we would a. k, is 
the tault ? If what we have said be true, 
and none who observes 'and reflects will 
deny it, then it will follow, that so lo<ig 
as the world is deprived of the n fining 
and elevating influence of eulti\ated fe- 
male intellect in all the relations of life, so 
Ion" as sMiety suffers from '.he ince^mj e- 
ency of hose to whom are enlrused i.ss 
nost precious interests, a hirge share of 
he responsibili y roust n'^tupon tin 1 o;ds 
of Creation. Mrs. E. M. E. 



m 



'CLA'SSIC UNIOK. 



HEIXENES, . ROMANS AND ISRAELITES. 

TuklK POSITION, SECULAK AND EElIGffilJS, IN THE 
HlSTOnV OF-THE^WOrlD. 

'' TrarTslated for the Christian RemiW, from tiie 
In'trod'uctiou to Traiitmann's "ApcKtolicOlinrcli, 
or Pictures of the Christian Cliurcli in the Aye 
of the Apj5tles."* , 

There, is in edueatioii, a jito^-ressive 
culture of tlie human race, dependent not j 
merely on the lapse of . agi:s, hut lOn'; the j 
appearance from time to time, of diversoi 
forms of national spirit and geniu's. The [ 
rejation of individu-ll -nations to oneanoth- ! 
er is not accidental, like that of trees in ' 
a forester ears of corn in a iieUl. As j 
each people h?is its individual character, \ 
its peculiar gifts and capacities, so has it I 
also i's, calling, its destiny, and its appoint-; 
ed time and hour wherein to fulfil this! 
destiny, and to make its contribution to j 
the progressive culture, of the race. 13 tit 
tRere arc certain u-ations appointed to take 
precedence of others, to stand as- the pil- 
lars of history, to stamp upon the faefeof' 
humaiiiity clearly marked and lasting traits. ! 
Among these, the Hellenes, (Greeks,) 
the Romans, and the Israelites, have e.\- 
erted the niost important and enduring in- 
fl'.ience; and their character and relations 
"must be clearly understood, that vre may 
judge correctly of .the foundation laid for. 
the entrance of- Christianity into the world: 

With the name of the lidknic race is 
recalled the noblest and most honored of, 
the nations of antiquity. ■ No other peo- 
ple lias ever secured so enduring a re- 
nown; and for the reason that this was the 
fiuit, not of conquest, not of the subjuga- 
tion of odier nations, but of lonn--coniin- 
ued activity in the field of spirittial cul- 
ture. All liberal and polite culture of the 
present time, whiSh -truly 'deserves-the 
name, is derived from this people; and in- 
deed in alt which pertains to exiticism in 
art and science, Greece still sits as it wei'e 
in the teacher's chair. Without the aid 
of the sword she has attained to universal 
empire; an empire to whose peaceful yoke 
humanity, especially the races -of the 
West, yields a willing homage; an empire 
Vvhose influence has never .been to' de- 
gTade, but always and -e-i'erywhere to 
awaken and .elevate.. It was for this peo- 
ple, sprung from a.yery small beginning, 
though its' declining, lig-ht glimmered far 
into Asia as well as Europe, to give the 
first e.xiraple, iii contrast with the un- 
■wieldly vastness of Asia, of the superiori- 
ty «( mental power over the niosl) gigan- 
tic developmants of physical force. The 
relative situation and form -of its native 
land' is a t3'pe of its relative position in 
-humanity, — the inherited or self-chosen 
residence of a people being, according to 
a..univer3al.law, ever the fitting frame to 
inclose the spiritual lineaments. A penin- 
sula ot' south-eastern Europe, wedged in 
between the approaching boundaries of 
A-na and Africa, in equal proximity to 
bo h, it thus indicates the calling, corres- 
ponding to the spirit of this, people, of 
spiritual mediator between the East. a,.nd 

*Die apostolische Kirche, oder Goinald" der 
chrlitlichcn Kirche zur Zeit der Apo-tel. Von 
1. B. Trautmanu. Leipz. 1^48, 



the West; through, -whom the occidental 
nations should come to know, and share 
the science and experience of the ..Asiatic 
and Northern .African races, and .."be edu- 
cated, into the highest 'Vfrfinement and 
spiritual maturity. In like jhatiner-.does 
the infinitely various -and diversified for- 
mation of its coast and surface s^■mbolize 
th'e-rich variety, the versaiile and elastic 
character of the Grecian mind. Finally, 
this finds expression in the physical struc- 
ture of the Greek nimself; ivhich,-' in .an 
admb-ably delicate anil; noble figure and 
constitution, develojj^' an extraordinary- 
degree of strength and firmness for labuV 
or conflict. In harniony with this, the 
spiritual nature of the Greek is in the 
highest degree delicate and noble; delicate 
in its singular excitability, pliancy, vivaci- 
ty, gayety and elasticity; noble in its en- 
deavors, peculiar ti3 this people above all 
others, to I'ise in its conceptions -arid as- 
pirations. above the necessities of "the- day 
and of the sensual existence, and to over- 
come both by a purely intelk-ctual energy.- 
With this connects itself that curiosity 
which is the bud of awakening intellectu- 
al lite, and- that restless spirit of inquiry 
which cannot content itself with the mere, 
outward appearance and use of sensual 
and visible things, but converts tliem in'o 
material? ei th-otight, • asks -after their 
origin, essen-tial nature -and connection.. — 
Hance t.he_ Hellenes have cultivated knowl- 
edge into science,, and the inquiry and as- 
piratian after wi'sdoftl is their peculiar pos- 
session.* To this is added that distin- 
guishing gift of the Grecian nature, ideali- 
Tv; that is, the capacity of conceiving the 
perfect form of whatever appears, or can 
be made the object of thought, and'bf rep- 
resenting it, or of bringing the idea into 
realization. .From this 'springs enthusi- 
asm for all that is great and no^'ble, for tb-e, 
attainment and preservation of the highest 
possessions of the mind, belt tatherlaaid 
and freedom, or the-pui-sultbf knowledge; 
and lience that sense of- b'eaUty. so lion- 
-ored and -cultivated by the Greeks as just- 
ly to be called their 'Mvprghip of tire beau- 
tiful. "-^ ' And as science was the product 
of their rich and power-ful in'ellectuality,- 
so from their iieali^ing enthusiasm for the 
beautiful-sprang Greeianart, of which the 
idea of beauty is the essence.. By strict 
adherence to this single idea, Grecian art 
became free and' independent, containing 
in itself its own end and reward; while in 
the case of other nations, e. f/., the Hin- 
doos and Egyptians, with alltheir wonder- 
ful skill in ihe mechanical detail, and nev- 
er became more than a hanJniail in the 
house and service of finother, — for the 
most part, of religion. If works of art 
among other nations excite our admiration' 
by their colossal, monstrous, symbolical 
forms,' it is through their relation to some- 
thing apart from themselves, — ras the 
Sphinx may in this view properly be call- 
ed the representative of Egyptian art. In 
Hellenic art, on the contrar)-, it is the per- 
fection of form, which in-and for, itself fills 
and featisties the mind. 'But the Grecian 
mind achieves its highest triumph in the 

*Comp. Acts xvii. 31; and 1 Cor, i. 23. 



combination of moral-intellectual aspira- 
tion with enthusiasm for the ideal; uniting 
the beautiful with .the good; presenting 
each as .;in object satisfying in and for its- 
,elf,as containing within itself its own end 
andreivard, — the one in its essential na- 
ture, the other in its form; so that by the. 
union of the, two the satisfying essence re- 
ceives .the satisfying form or outward 
manifestation, the good" conferring worth 
upon the beautiful, the .beaufiful lending 
gTaoe to tlicgood. -• . . - - 

-From all that-has. been said, we perceive 
in the Hellenic mind a .preponderance, of 
intellectual power and culture, and hence 
an aspiring after spiritual mastery and 
independence; a- striving, and a capacity 
for it also, to free itself from the bondage 
of material nature. While the Oriental, 
in sluggish indolence or unreflecting' devo- 
tion; at all events, in unconditional recog- 
nition and reverenee of- the mysterious 
forces which are with him accounted sa- 
cred and divinCj slumbers in unconscious 
harmony with nature, like an embryo in 
the womb, the Greek seeks, by the aid of 
his personal and moral consciousness, to 
penetrate to the essential idea. In him the 
human soul first comes Xo itself , becomes 
aware of an opposition' between nature 
and spirit; the moral self-consciousness 
awakes as if ftom slumber to a feeling of 
individuality, and of a destiny higher 
than anything to be realized in the physi- 
cal life. The moral becomes an object .of 
coiisciousjiess, — is indeed, by the labor of 
the understanding, cultivated to an inde- 
pendent science, and ethics take rank with 
physics. But this lofty sentiment we soon 
find degenerating, with the Greeks into self- 
conceit, manifested in an excessive over- 
estimate of individ.uality, of subjectivity, 
m a certain haughty feeling of self-reli- 
ance. - Hencethelack of reverence; hence 
that familiarity and levity in the contem- 
plation and treatment of religious objects. 
Those mysterious, colossal, monstrous rep- 
.lepresentations of divinities derived from 
Egypt and the East, change under the 
hands of the Hellenes -into human forms, 
refined by art into ideals of human nature. 
The Isis veil is torn away; and rising from 
the wild cliaos of matter, froni the sea- 
foam, naked-and distinct in plastic forms 
of beauty, the embodied divinities present 
themselves as Hellenic men, in all respects 
"like one of us,'' with every passion and 
impulse belonging to liuman nature. — 
Thus Olympus was- but a reflection of 
Greece, — a gallery exhibiting every dis- 
tinctive trait of Grecian character,- only 
heightened into a nobler beauty by aii 
idealizing fancy. , The foreign origin is 
now scarcely to be traced; the subduing 
power of Grecian genius lias transformed 
all into its own image. The great mas- 
ter, he who gave to this tendency its re- 
alization, was Homer, the prophet of the 
system of humanized divinity. From his 
ai'-e and that of Hesiod, the popnlar reli- 
gion thus familiarized to the common 
mind, becomes the field of the poets, and 
the abyss of fables without limit. , The 
priests, indignant at the profanation, 
strive to preserve the myths of tradition 
in a secret system of doctrine and 3 -«e- 



CLASSIC UNION. 



cret worship. To counteract tlie increa- jliigh moral entbusiasm, the. most earnest 
sino-'levity of the religion of the poets | aspirations after the .true and right, aud, 
and the populace,- and to secure something here and there- a haW-con.scious presage 
wherewith to satisfy the still existing pravr'of help thcut may :wn& day corae.^these 

in^sof religious coniciQusnessiind leeling, ava the traits that qi,eet u^ in his writing's. | selves, but only as they coiitnbutcd to the 

upport of the temporal existence and to 
Philosophy, as the 
no worth to tlie Ro- 



tical nature, devoted exclusively to earthly 
possession, and to the regulation of the 
doniestic and civil relations, the arts and 
acienees could- have no value in them- 



tliey, seek to deduce from the myths, for- In hira the -Hellenic spirit reached, its. 
the most part of. very dgAbtfui aijd .pb; highest poiijf, and fulfilled its calling, as j thjj general order, 
scure contents, a wiiii'-^ity. moral- sign-ill- : the educator .of. the race .in all that is-] science of ideas, had 
cance. ' Tliis is the oryin of tbe'so-ealjed comprehenaed in a.purely human- culture. ' mans; the natural, sciences, (astronomy. 
Mysteries. On the otlier hand, those pos- ;Xo: long after him . appeal:* Alexander llie|natu.ral histor-y, iic.,) only so fiir as they 
sessin"- a finer spiri :ual sense, to whom- the ' Grpat, to whom .wa? given the key where- subs.ei-ved physical -enjoyment and well- 
frivalous and chtldish fables of the . popu--. with. to; open, tlie world'-foi- the entranee! being. State pohcy became i is science; 
larreUoion, the-dBik deoeptiv.£'.teac-hings of Grecian. language and . culture Fol- 1 tlie administration of public aftairs, the 
and the in part obscene svmbolism of the 'lowing ail the path thus opened by his i science of government. On tins were 
MysterieSi were equally distasteful, sougfit 'sword/the- Grecian minti-achiev.ed an in- j conecntrated all the eflorts of the Roman 
to'win a new field by the e.xerc'ise of. tlae[telLectiial.,oonq,tiest of - the.w.orld,'' and -.gs-j mind; this was its crowning glpvy. Elo- 
reasonino- facuky. Philosophy awoke,— ' tabUshed an enduring sovereignty. . .- .j quence, and: even religion, were but ser- 
in a peculiar sense the true offspring^.af.- --But the -vigpr of t-h6 -Hellenic spirit de-| vants of the State, in Rome, more than 
the Grecian mind,— to. solve the riddla of dined and grew/weaker .as the field of its anywhere else in ancient titoes, was re i- 
the Sphinx, to answer satisfactorily the , activity extended. Tl^n- appeai-ed an-: gion a State m>titutioa;_, everything reh- 
questions respecting the existence and na- ; other people destined-for the government; | glous was national, religiosity was pohti- 
tureof God, of the world, of mankind, as.Greece had. been for the culture,- of cal, and State pohcy was religious, i^ven 
and their relations to each, other. Hav- ! the humail r^ce. -These were the -110- when the superstitious reverence lor the 
intr, in her search after the ground-ideas ''mans. ... , ' ' > 

of^all things, first applied herself to the ' Not proceeding from a comnion stock 
contemplation of nature; and having, in or a common country, .. but originating; 

this wholly lost, in opposition to the visi, j from a Citt,— itself not the ofTspring, but| had •P^'^'n once^in.ta-wovcn^uih the^organ- 
ble plastic forms of the popular religion, the mother of -a jiation, gathered . out of 
all idea of personality intlie divine nature, I every people under, heaven, —appears this 
philosophy turned again to the contempla- ' new ra.ce. in ' historj-j which, . as it was 
tion of the human soul, its powers, its : drawn together by a comnion necessity 
achievements, its destiny. Imagining and the love of freedom, was held to- 
herself to have found the Deity again hi Igethef chiefly from opposition without. — 
man, she views in him the supreme arbi- 1 Hence it was a strange mi.\t,u''e; " uniting, 
ter, and with an excessive exaltation of in accordance with the, significaat legend 
personality and subjectivity, .makes the : of the origin of its first leadersy the .low 
twilight of his knowledge the absolute rapf^city of the wolf with the-strength and 
moral standard. This tendency was car- 1 grandeur of the god of -war. ^Vhat was 
ried to its utmost limit in the teachings ; said of Ishmael may- well be applied .to 
of tlie Sophists; whose specious -neg'ative tliis people: "His hand . again.st every 
logic, directed against all the received ' man, and every man's hand against him; 

ideas of religion and morals, underter- ! and he shall dwell in the presence of all . _ ... 

mined the foundations of social and civil his brethren,"^/, c, shall spread himself bearing the unerring lightning ol war^ 
order, and brought Greece to the verge of in their sight,- and in spite of tliem. Its the other the thunderbolt of law, to subju- 
ruin. Then, in the hour of great peril. I characteristic traits, di.stiuguishing it from gate the world; to become the luler and 
the gracious providence of the God thus ' everv other people, maybe expressed in guardian of the enteebled nations jn 
rejected and denied, awoke in the lap of' tlie words— Will and Law, Conquest audi whom the capacity lor religion as well as 
the most frivolous, but at the same time ! Dominion. Earnest and firm, hard and for civil order was already nearly extin- 
the most intellectual add religious city o£l austere, powerful in will and .deed, tend- j guislied. This then was their calling,— to 
Greece, in Athens itself, thcgreat prophet \ iug.whollv to the practical, pursuing noti wrest the sceptre trom the ntrvelesB gra^p 
of Hellenic piety and morahty, Socrates. 1 the idea but .•the reality, aspiring after, of the nations, and to bring t-him uridcr 
"~ material posscssioir and -its raaintenance guardianship and restraitot law. i Kir 

and extension, it was by nature fitted for calling they have understood and fultilled, 

cojiquest — not indeed in the intellectual, 

but in the physical world. , Gifted with 

the eagle eye of a wholly practical under- 

fitanding^.- seeking only the practically use- 
ful and- its application to the daily wants 

of the family and the State, it was devoted 

to civil order, which it systematized and 

administered with masterly skill, and was 

therefore eqiially adapted to government 



old traditions and religious forms had ^ 
en place to, unbelief, the forms and cere- 
mouies-werc stUl adhered to, because they 



ism of political life, and .of civil govern- 
ment'. Law, and. not rcljgjon, took the 
lead'. No. other people has watched over 
the iritcresls of civil and social life wiih 
such earnest and jealous .care; no other 
has with equal skill wrought the principles 
of government into systematic fo^n; so 
tliai Roman lawhas remained the. admi- 
ratign and the niodcd of all succeeding 
times', and the Roman people has become 
the representative of political law and 
civil order. Thus, with every faculty and 
energy of the national mind concentrated 
upon "this one object, the Roman became 
qualified to go for.h, in the one liand 



With resistless logic he affirmed the poM-, 
tions denied by the Sophists, and demon- 
stratedto an age, drunk with their intoxi- 
cating cup, the the truth of our religious 
and moral consciousness of the being and 
providence of God,. of good and evil, of 
rectitude and duty, of government and 
law, of man's accountability to a divine 
tribunal after death. Connecting virtue 
■with reverence for the Supreme, besought 
to call into life among his nation a reli- 



gious morality based upon reason. Rear- ! and dominion. . With such a character, 
ed upon this soil, rising from this founda- i indicating-a predominance of the choleric 
tion on the wings <jf a splendid creative | in temperament,, the Rojiiau stands be- 
genius, Plato — -the most accomplished' of:fore us, in comparisoTi with. the Greek, as 
the Greeks, the flower and ornament of the man beside the youth. With the one 
Athens, the culminating point of philo-' the ideal is tlie object of pursuit, with the 



sophic effort in the ante-Christian period 
— moulds the Socralio doctrines into scien- 
tific form, and becomes the prophet of -re- 
ligious philosophy. Deep feeling of pov- 
erty, weakness, and corruption of huin;m 
nature, clear perception of the wants of 
his age, with a profound yet tender earn- 
estness in the delineation of thes'e wants, 



other the actital; longing aspiration charac 
tori zes the one, satistiea possession is' the 
calm, Collected tone of the' other. With 
the one, personal subjective freedom is the 
supremo good; \«-ith the other, general ob- 
jective civil order. With the one, freedom 
degenerated into licentiousness; with the 
other, law into oppression. To thte prac- 



but fultilled it unjustly and oppressively; 
for iron \vas the yoke imposed on the necks 
.of the conquered) and treacherous the 
policy that brotight them under that yoke. 

Thus, on the basis of Gix-eiiui eultiirc 
rises i'lrtiman dominion; and both coiitiibuie 
to the education ef the cations for a new 
order of thingSi 

Apart and. by itself stands the Israeli 
lisii people; separated entirely by origin 
characier, and destiny from the Greek, 
and Romans, and mentioned here Boier 
with reference to its Religion, in contra - 
with the whole inaL-;s of pagan systems of 
worship. A people of earlier origin tliun 
theirs, it is distinguished, and indeed 
nnique, in the sobriety and connl•ctedne^iJ 
of its continuous history down iVom its 
eaifiest progenitor. Alter a brief period 
of prosperity, scarcely more than half a 
century, it stands before us "without form 
or comeliness;" nay, for the most part, as 
a bye- word, an otilnse, and a nprnnch. 



u 



CLASSIC UNION. 



"for an astonislim'int to thenatwns;' ot'ieh 
"as dying and yet alife," "as chastened, 
yet not kiUud;"; almost ever as tlie "iiltli 
ot the woi'ld and the oifscouring of all 
things." Of a powerful, rugged, and 
c rongly sensuous nature, hard, stubborn, 
intractable, a people of stiff neck, wilhoui 
great intelloctual activity or susceptibility, 
inapt to scientific, philosophic, oreven po- 
litical effe.ort, it had by nature no qualifi- 
cation either for the education or the gov- 
ernment of the race. Yet it commands 
sJnjiration for an uneqiialed energy and 
elasticity of nature, by v/'hich it was fitted, 
not indeed for a rich variety of intellectu- 
al effort, but from a solid basis of positive 
truth to rise to the loftiest heiglits, as well 
a^ to fa'.hom the profoundesd depths. — 
Thoughtfully, earnest, at once vehement 
and teuJer, it was swayed in turn by, the 
si.^ftest and themost violent emotions. It 
must be admitted, however; that this peo- 
ple stands among the other nations, almost 
without a formed character of its own.^ 
I;i the very beginning of its you'diful peri- 
ol, juit as it was awakening to a con- 
sciousness of na.ional life, it was taken 
under the special guardianship of God 
himself, and was made subjeci to a law, 
who'seoi'igin is proved to be foreign, and 
therefore divine, by its' contrariety lo the 
spirit and 'endencies of the people. From 
this time its strictly original traits are lost 
from vieyr, and its character is developed 
under, and in resistance to, the restraints 
of th^t divine law. But with this it now 
receives its calling, through its own in- 
ward relation to the law on the one side, 
•nd on the other, with the law in its hand 
»nd its lips, to the heathen nations. For 
this law was not like that of every other 
people, — the product and expression of 
the national spirit and will, and conse- 
quently not the spirit and will of a single 
individual, who, like Solon, Lycurgus, 
(k;., must always accommodate himself 
to the spirit and will of the people; but i- 
was a law miraculously given by God 
himself, as attesf^ed by satisfactory histori- 
cal evidence. Its requi.sirions and re- 
Btrain's come into conflict with the natural 
character and tendencies of the people, 
and the result is. slavish fear, rebellion. 
iHld apa^tvtsy. _ But as the law v,'as given, 
on the one h;(nd lo reveal God's deli<>h'. 
in holiness, and his will in reference to the 
o'ririiC^er and acions of men, and- on the 

h -r lo give the knowledge of sin, i. e ,, 
of the whole natural character of man 
and hie attitu le towards God; it is. there- 
fore, uoi in Its outward form, which wa.« 
< a 7 for Israel and for a J mited period, 
but in its essential nature, eternally true 

1 % i binding on every age ; n I every pco- 
] 1« Israel stands therefore, in Tiis rela- 
t'lj-i to the Law, as the repr,#enta,ive o 
the numan race. For a time he sustains 
alouLi the conflict of the na ural inclina- 
ti-ju and will of man, in cssltcj a ways 
and every where the same, wih the law 
«nd will of Oc)d; endures cl»-:tisenient as 
i: were for all humanity, and ihus fulfiik 
one side of his appointed calling. Bu' 
the history of the people, in this relation 
to tiie law. has two distinct pcriot'/t In 
ihv firstgf tbsse, smbracing wlaatw« znay 



call ibs youi-h and early manhood, and ex- 
tending to the captivity in Babylon, it ap* 
pears — now in the unbridled willfulness 
and pride of youth, now in that inclina- 
tion for religions and customs of the 
heathen, indic-ative of the vague aird rest- 
less desires of the yet iramaiUre man^ — 
for the most part in the attitude of-' resist- 
ance to tTie Divine Law; tiil at length in 
captivity, under the chastisement denoun- 
ced against apostasy, it learned the truth 
and glory of its. law and of its God. — 
Then follov.'s the second period. Irael 
now, though not till after a hard-won vic- 
tory over the severest of its tejnptations, — 
that of a union with lieathenisni in one 
universal religion, — under the Londuct of 
the Maccabean princes achieved forever 
its separation from paganism. Thence- 
forward Israel holds fast to its law in op- 
position to the heathen. Now first, under 
the moulding hand and in strict observance 
of this law, the national character is de- 
veloped in marked peculiarity, — a hard 
zealot-spirit, a mind directed w Irolly to the 
external, to works, signs, anc forms, an 
insolent pride in the mere outward pos- 
session of the advantages which it enjoyed 
over other nations. That youthful .period 
was succeeded by rip. ne 1 manhood, wi h 
Its sati.>fied enjoymtLt o the acquired or 
inherited possession. But even now, the 
national character, admirable though ii, 
may be, is far from attractive. Even its 
otherwise praise^worthy traits, its firmness, 
perseverance, and fidelity, were too nearly 
allied to that hardness and arrogance 
which marked its whole history; for in no 
people, as the men of God in ihe writings 
of the Old Testament fully testify, has 
the natural man ottered stronger resist- 
ance to tiie work of God's Spirit and 
grace. ' Yet was Israel now tirst pre- 
pared, by strict observance of the law, 
aad steadfast opposition to heathenism, as 
well as by its ever-increasing dispersion 
among the Gentiles, to fulfill the other 
side of its calling, viz: to testify to the 
roality and tiniry of the Godhead, to a 
pire Monotheism; to make known among 
the nations the 'Imw of God, and the pro- 
mises affecting the whole human race; 
and thu> to awaken the hope of a new 
iind better state of things. Thus this 
people appears among the nations, ac- 
cording to the high destiny assigned it,* 
the Priest and Prophet of the human- 
race. Testifying of God's truth and hoL-_ 
ness under the pressure and service of the 
law; opposing to the shallow externality 
of idol-worship, the internal and spiritual 
which was the essential principle of its 
own religion; it preaches tjiegloiy of the 
Divine Law, and the education of the hu- 
man race to righttoisness. 

And thus, through the richness and 
•splendor of Grecian culture, and through 
ilie rigid externality of the Roman lei^al 
sway, is transfused the, interior spiritual 
element of Jsrail tish doctrine and pro- 
phecy. 



We hope to grow old, and yet we fear 
ol 1 age; that is, we ar» willing to Ijve, and 
airakl to ii». 



THE BLUES. 

Reader, are you troubled with fits?'-^' 
We don't mean ague tiis, nor convulsion 
fits, nor any of those light ills to wdiich 
flesh is heir. But did you ever have "a 
fit of the blues?" If y.ou never did, set 
yourself down as one of the lucky sort, 
and bless your stars for deliverance Irom 
an evil in comparison with which the 
measles areas nothing, and being most 
desperately wretched in love as mere pas- 
time. We know there are some who af- 
fect to disbelieve the" existence of themal- 
ady wc ha\e named, oralleast any neices- 
sity for its existence; but there are others, 
and their name is Legion, who would 
sooner doubt the evidence of their owji 
Senses, since the conviction has been forced 
upon them by a terrible and painful ex- 
pei'ience. 

It may be well breefly to sketch some 
of the spm} turns and eliects ot-the dis- 
ease, ana hint generally at some ot the 
drobable causes. One of the hrst symp- 
toms is a terrable cram — in the pocket. — - 
Some who never have experienced this 
have supposed t. emselves afflicted with 
the "blues,' and haue even gone so far as 
to ofler to "sell themselves lor a shilling: ' 
but the result has always proved they were 
meieiy laboring under a mental haijucina- 
iion. In most cases the cramp to which 
we have already referred is immediately- 
succeeded by the tit itself. The features 
assume a most dismally lugubrious ap- 
pearance; spectres with bony fingers and 
poor-houses and straw pallets flu before 
[lie imagination, and on the approach ot a 
crediloi, the victim is seized with a tre- 
mendous weakness and shaking of the 
kees and the toe joints. It is delightful 
at this interesting period to be invited lo 
spend a social eyening with friends, or to 
oe informed that you are out of coal and 
flour and such other necessaries of life, or 
to receive your rent-bill, or tax -bill, or a 
subscription paper, with the iutimatioa 
that an X is supposed to be about your 



sij ;ie. 

All the aches and ills of mortality are 
as nothing compared to this. Deem your- 
self fortunate U you break your leg, or 
your neck; but a you suiitr from the 
"blues ' the apothecary cannot help you. 
To fret will make your case no better. — 
Your only chanee is to get rid of the 
cramp, and tor this the most eflectual 
remeuy, a.id indeed the only one, is a heap 
of "the uUst" applied to the seat ot-the 
disease; but where to obtain the medi- 
cine. Heaven only knows. A poultice of . 
"shin pligte.s' has ben kui,w.i to da 
wonders ai.o .elieve a inost terriLiJe tic in 
a lew seconds. Tite fact is, a victim of 
the blues is in a sad fix, and is a fit sab- 
ject for thi att^i tion of the benevolent. — 
if any ot our reautis can gi\e any infor- 
mation where the medicine abelTj named, 
can be ob a;ned, they will comer a favor 
t)y leavin^ word at this offi-oe. — Cu7lldrid(^s 
Vitmnule, 



To discover how many idle men ther« 
are in a place, all thal'e necessary in to set 
two dogs a fighting. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



REMEMBER ME. 



^ very toned voice of the past glides tlirough I bered in supineness, -where would have 
! my lattice, and breathes in my ear, "Ke- \ been the pro.-pei=itv of 
perhaps ' raerab-;r me,^ ' and as its echoes died away, .. The cloud capp'd towe.'s, tb- gorgeous palaces. 
"' '' ' "' "" ' """ The s^olemu tetuples, tlie great globe itself." 



What a thrill of sadness or 
of joy, rushBS through our minds atthoj the iihpreasioiv it has left of my memory 
re-fleciion of these words. They may | . rows 'brighter and bri^h 
have been the last words of a mother car- ' ^ ■. 



ling from an onlv son. He leavts il'e 
loved scents of his childhood, and the 
tender associations conn( cied with ihem, 
and launches his frail bark nporf the ocean. 
For a time it bears him nobly on, but at 
last da)-kdess thi-ckens around him, his 
life is m danj^er, but he heeds it not,, 
death is approaching, but he for^gets not 
the last injunctions of a ' mother, which 
appear to him as a Star of Bethleheja to 
illuminate his bewildered pathway. 

"Oh, my molher," he cnes.in ihe hour 
of peril, "1 sdll remember ihee.'' As Iw; 
uttered these words .the sea parted as a 
scroll, and as a rcroll rolled togeiher again, 

the victim sank beneath ihe waves to ri.se ,, .. ^, ,,. ^. ■,..,, ,, 

^ ■ 1 ij .1 1 • I Man IS l1i£ world s high priest; lie dolh iiresent 
no more; no more to behold the {glorious • yj^^. .ncifice for rJl: whil^ikey below , . ' 
sun in his daily course, or with the genlle ', ITiito ihe service Tnutter an assent — " 
moon to hold his nightly converse. Ittuch-as springs use rtiat fall, and winds that 

These words may have been the last ofj Wow. ■ ^ . • "■ 



PROVIDE^^CE.— BY GtolMiE Hu>.Bi;r.x. 

sacred Providence, -nKo, from end tnend, 
>?-roiiulv and sv,eetly niovestl shall i: write, 
Alut not ot tkee liroiigh.wli'jiii my hngers bend 
T.o hold, my qaill'if Shall they not4o the rigUtV 

Of all the creatures bol li i n sea and land, 
Oiily (o man' thou hast laadc kiiBWitthy'way.s; ' 
And ptit the pen alone into hi.s hmid, 
4:ud'liJade.him secretjiry or.J,hy praiis; -. ; 

Beasts fatn wotrid singj.birdd ditty to tlieirnofes; 
Trees would he^tinillig on lUoir native lute 
To thy renown; bait atl'lhnir Iiand>>" and throTts 
Are brouglit to piauj while they are lame and 
luuu;. . „■ ■. ; -. - 



loved and loving sister, ere she bid 
adieu to those on earth, or of a tender 
and aftecaonate friend, when about to 
leave the cares and troubles of this world 
for a happier home prepared for all. 



TUou arfm small- bhiogs great ; not small in any; 
Thy even praise <;ativiijitTier Vise nor i-tH, 
TIiou art in all-lhingsone; -iii each thiirgiuany; 
For tUou art infinite in one, aud-alL 



,,,, , ^ 1 -1 1 T n 1 I Tempests are calm to thee- tliiey tnow thT 'Iiaud,, 

When but a child I well remember | ^^nd hold it fast, as childron-do their fuW'ii, 



standing by the bedside of my dearest 
earthly iriend, "My Mother." Mourning 
friends gathered around to vvitness the de- 
parture of one so dearly loved. It was 
at the hour of twiliglit; all nature seemed 
hushed into pensive quietness, the laborer 
■wearied wilh the toils of the day, wended 
his way homeward; theTairds sought their 
nests in the tall trees; the sofb beams of the 
young- moon, stealing through the win- 
dow, lell on the pale and angelic coun- 
tenance of "My Mo. her," wreathing l;p,r 
brow as with a crown of heavenly lifht. 
I clasped her hand — it was cold! A se- 
raphic smile rested upon her features. — 
It seemed as though the pure spirit had 
freed itself from the mortal tenement of 
clay, but }'et lingered near the objects it 
had so dearly loved, ere it plumed its 
wings for its heavenly flight. For a short 
time it tarried thus; then casting a smile 
on the encrcling friends, that do pen ean 
po'ray, it whispered, "llemember me,' 
and winged its way to a brighter world. 

Years have passed since then; yet time 
with his wasting sythe, nor age with i.B 
many cares, can «ver blot from my mem- 
fery the saddest event of my whole life. — 
Sweet words! Me.Uinks i hear them iVen 
now, echoing in soft whispers through the 
room* Years may pass away, r.o.' cm I 
forget them. The thousand tinged leaves 
of the forest murmur them to the winds 
and the evening breeze sighs them gently 
in my ear. In the hour of meditation I 
listen with rapture to the reverberation of 
these soul-thrilling words. They are uni- 
ted by a golden chain of love to all tlie 
fond associations of my youthful days. — 
By memory's magic art the present is con- 
nected with the unforg'otien past. I can- 
not forget all the dear companions of my 
childhood. Oft as I sit musing on the 
happiaeei of tbesfl bksseid daj'Sj ftiS trfl-* 



Which cry and foUo'w. Tllou hast luade pool- 
sand 

Chicle the proud sea, even whc-re it swells and 
gailiers. 

The cupboard serves tli^ world; the merft is set 
■\Vhere all may. reach; no beast but knows his 

feed. ■ - ■ 

Birds teach us hawking; fishes ha-pc theirnet; 
The great pray^pu the less; ihey, ou.soiue weed. 

K^othing en";eudered doth prevent bis meat. 
Flies have thoir table .-pnad ere they appear. 
Some creatures have in winter wliat to eat; 
Others do sleep, aud envy not their cheer- 
How fine dost thou times ar,d seasons spin. 
And make a twist cbeLjuered with ni^ht .ind dayl 
Which, as ittlengtltens, winds and winds us in; 
As bo^vls goon,t)ut turniujf all the way. 

Each creature hath a w-isdom f-orhis good, 
The pigeons feed their tender ()li'-priii'>;, cn'ing, 
When they are callow;, but withdraw their / Mid. 
When they are tklljedi that need may teach Iheui 
flying'. 

Bees work for man: and yet they never bruise 
Their master's Uowcr; but leave it, having dducj 
As fidr as ever; and as fit fclr use; 
ad both the flower ddih stay, and honey nia, 



Woman's hand too, in its own quiet 
way, has wrought something for the world'* 
w- Ifare. Why should you withdraw yours 
from contributing iis part in any titiinj,' 
form of industrious occupation? Of Miss 
Edge worth, it was said by a familiar friend, 
thac she could do skill.ully with her hands 
everything that a woman ought to know 
liow to do. This veisatility of knowledge 
and aptness for useful employment are 
peculiarly appropriate .to the" simplicity 
that should prevailin a reptiblic. Tbosa 
are deceived in the character of a true 
lady, who suppose- it comprises helples.s. 
ness, or ignorance of whatever her sex 
onght to understand and perform. Be- 
lieve me, inertness is nut laudable nor in- 
doleace. graceful. Were it necessary, I 
could fortify the assertion by numerous 
examples from histo.y, as well as personal 
lAservation. Aut I will not do you the 
•injustice of supposing it possible lor any 
of you to belong to that ch.ss ol cyphers 
inthe scale of being, whom an ancient 
and iiomely epitaph thus chai-actenses. 
"Then if their tbiubstones, when they die, 

- Ain't tauglit to flatter and to lie, 

- Thcie's nothing more that can he' said, 
Than that tliey've ate up all their bread. 
Drank up their driiik, and gone to bed." 

Woman's mission on earth is not one of 
sloth and selfishness. It is alike her duty, 
her policy, and herhappLness, to abandon 
weak -indulgence, emp.y display, and in- 
giorioua ease 

Mrs. SiQoi-EyK\. 



TO TOUKG LADIES 

It. is amiiJtakTj of*n madb, tliat the com- 
mon occupations of industry arc vulgar,- or 
tnat it is not quite lady like to work with 
the hands. The hand is a curious piece! of 
mechanism-. It was doubtless intended 
by its Maker for active and ingenious pur- 
l eses. A man of no metm attainments has 
said that its strucLU)-e raight convince B'.i 
in ti del of the iafiaite -niidom of its Arch- 1 
tect. ) - ■ 

Look abro-«l, and sec what the hand of Humility is a gjace that adorns and 
man has done, on the earth, and in its , be.uitities every other grace; wiihout it, the 
depths, and upon the broad sea, whei-e.nijst splendid natura( and acquired A*- 
trhi* u-ingi^ nstvfe's tiii. Ha^ h sfhjnj^ I cto'm^fi'riimp^'* T*e^ fefel? ttidi- efiaisa. 



Space Measubixc. — Imagine a railway 
from here to the sun. How many houj-s 
is tile sun fiom us '? Why, it we were lo 
send a baby in an express train, going in» 
cessantly at a huniJiX;d miles na hour, 
withou. making any stoppages, the baby 
would grow Lo be a boy — -Uik boy would 
grow to be a man; the jaau would grow 
old and die — wiihout sutiny the isun, tor 
it is distant moi-e than a hundred j-tears 
li-om us,- But what is this compared to 
Keptune's distance ? Had Adum find 
livij stared by our railway at the creation 
;0 go from Neptune to ihV; sun, at the rate 
of lifcy niiies an hdur, they would not 
have got there yet, tbr Jftptuue is niore 
than su thousand years itvm the tentre ot 
our systim. But vf^ are gttting into too 
large numhfcrs ugainJ *b must havb Botm 
swiitttr strvant than q railway to measun 
pacfe for us. Light willanswer our pur' 
pdse — Ibr light iravbls irum the sun U) il 
earth in eiglu minutes-. Bight minutfc* 
thin, ctJUuting by light, are eqtiivalent i; 
a hundit;d years HI railway espressos, 
speed ? It would take about luur hours lo 
go from the sun to Neptunts. Among th« 
stars, we shall tind that the nearest is 
three years off, eoiunting by light — Uuute* 
hold Wmdi. 



CLASSIC Ul^ION. 



THE JEW. AND HIS DTIXfi. DAUGHTER. 

Traveling lately througli tlie. Western 
' part of Virgraia,.! %as inucli interested 
ill hearing an old ajid higlily respectable 
^clergyman give a short account of a JeTv, 
■ ■with whorai lie had litelj' become acquain- 
-ted. He was preaching to a large and at- 
' ten'tive audience, wlieii iiis attention was 
arrested,- by seeirig..a man enter,' having 
eviery mark of a Jew oil 'tliC' leiieaments 
of his countenance. He was well dres- 
sed, his-countenance was noble, . thou™li 
it was evident his, lifiart liad laj,ely_ be.eii 
the habitation af sorrow. He' toak his 
■seat and'was'all" attention,, ■while an un- 
cjnscious tear was often seen to ■R-et his 
manly oheeks. , After service the clergy- 
man .fixed his eyes . steadily upon him, 
and the stranger reciprocated the stare. — 
The good minister goes up to him; "Sir, 
am I correct, am I not addressing .one' of 
the children of Abraham?" "You are:" 
."Buthow'is it thati meeta Je^y ina ChTig- 
tian ■assemblt?"' The substa-nce'-of Ms' 
narrative -vvas as follows: 

Hewasa very respectable man, of a 
superior education, who had Isitely come 
from Lo:idon, ■ and • with his books, .his 
riches, and a lovely ' daughter of seven- 
teen, had found a charming retreat on the 
fertile banks of the Ohio. He had buried 
the companion of his bosom before he left 
Europe, and he now knew no' pleasure 
but thecom'pany of his endeared child. — 
She was indeed worthy of a parent's love; 
she was surrounded by beauty as with a 
mantle; but her cultivated mind and her 
amiable disposilion, threw around her a 
charm superior to any of the tinselled de- 
corations of the body. No pains had 
been s^pared on her education. She could 
read and speak with fluency several lan- 
guages, and her manners charmed- every 
beholder.- No wonder, then that a doat- 
irig.father, whose head had now become 
■sprinkled with gray, should - plaee his 
whole aifection on this only child of his 
love, especially as he knew-' of no source 
of happiness beyond this world. -Beinw a 
strict Jew, he educated her in the strfct- 
est principles of his religion, and he 
tliougiit he had presented it with an or- 
naiu-ent. ■ 

-It was not long a.go. that his dauohor 
was taken >ick. The rose faded from'her 
cheek, her eye Ipst its iire, lier strength 
decayed, and it was appartmeiit that the 
worm of disease was ro'oting in the core 
i>t' her vitfils. Tlie father Ining upon the 
bftd of his daughter, with a heart ready 
to burst with anguish. He often attempt- 
ed to converse with her, but seldom spoke 
but by the language of tears. He spared 
no trouble or expense in procuring medi- 
cal a.^sistance, but no human skill could 
extract the arrow of death now fised in 
her heart. The father was walking in a 
small grove near his house, wetting his 
steps with his tears, when he was sent for 
by the djing daughter. With a heavy 



heart lie entered the door of the chamber, 
■which he feared would soon be the en- 
trance of death.. He was now to, take a 
last far-ewell of his child, and his religion 
gave him but a feeble hope of meetingher 
hereafter. , . .. > 

Therc.hiltlg-rixspecl t-he hand ef, her-, pa- 
rent with hei' death -cold -hand; "My 
father do you, love mo?"^— ."My da,ughter, 
you know I love; that yoii are more', dear 
to me than the whole world beside!" — ^ISut, 
father, do you love me?'' — "Whj', mv 
cliild, will you give, me pain so e.vquisite'?' 
have .1 never gixcii you any proofs of my 
love?" — "But, my dearest, do you love 
me?-'. The father could not answer;. the 
child added, "1 know, my dear father, 
you have ever loYed mo. ,'You have been 
the fondest of parents, .and. I tenderly 
l-Qve you. Will you gTant me. one re- 
quest? 0,, my father, it is the dying re- 
quest of your daughter — will you grant 
it?" — "My dearest child, ask what you 
will, though it take,, every- .cent of my 
property, whatever it may be, it •shall be 
granted. I idUI grant it.'" — "My dear 
father, J beg yoti never again to speak against 
JESUS of Xazaret-hr' The father was 
dumb with astonishment.. "J know,"' con- 
tinued tile dying girl,,^?! tno'w, but. little 
about this Jesus, for I was never taught. 
But I know that he is a Saviour, for he 
has manifested himself to me since I have 
-been sick, even for the' salvation pf my 
soul. I believe 'he will save me, al- 
though I have never btfjre loved him. — 
I feel that I am going to him — that I shall 
ever be with him now my father, do not 
deny me; I beg that j'ou will never speak 
against this Jesus of Xazarefh! I entreat 
you to obtain a Testament that tells of him; 
and I pray you may know him; and when 
I am no more, you may bestow on him 
that love that was- mine!" 

The e.xertion here overcame the weak- 
ness of her body. She stopped, and the 
fathers' heart was too ftill, even for tears.— 
He left til e room in great horror of mind, 
and erehe-Could again summon sufficient 
fortitude, the spirit of his accomplished 
daughter had taken its flight, and I trust, 
to that Saviour, whom she loved and hon- 
ored, viitliout seeing or knowing. The 
first thing the parent did, after committing 
I to the earth hi^ last earthly joy, was to 
procure him a New Testament. This he 
read: and, taughtby the Spirit from abov-e, 
is now numbered among the meek and 
humble follows of the Lamb. — X. Y. 
Chronide. 



Articles of provision . were once, called 
for to go down the . Mississippi to a mis- 
sionary station- • _A certain man suV 
scribed two bushels of wheat. When the 
time came to oarrj' it to the boat, he 
thought on€ bushel as much as he ought 
to give, and if all would give e-ven that, 
it would amount to a g.reat deal. He 

\ measured back one half, and left it on his 
barn floor. On his return, he found that 
h:s best cow had broken into the barn, and 
eaten most of what was left, and was'dead 

'inconsequence. 



I " COME, 'J:.ffiS -VV-AY.FATHEH." 

j-: , IXudng a shoi-t .visit to.'tliE sea-sh'ore of 
our State, some-.two-^ years since, with a 
j party of' friends, iUvas proposed one bright 
a'fternoon that we should make up a parfy 
f.andgo down the harbor on a fishing ex- 
l"cursion. We accordingly started, and after 
j sailing about three miles, a young lady of 
I the company declined going farther, and 
requested us to land her on one of the small 
islands in the harbor, where she proposed 
' to sta}' until our, return. My little boy, 
then about foiir years old, prefened re- 
maining with her. Accordingly, ■we left 
thera, and proceeded some sis miles far- 
ther. We remained out much longer than 
w.e intended, and as night approached a 
thick fog set in from sea, entirely enshroud- 
ingiis.^— Without compass, and not know- 
ing' the right direction to steer, we groped 
our wa}' along for some hours, until finally 

I we distinguished the breaking of the surf 
j oh one of the islands, but were at a loss to 

know which one of them. I stood up in 
the stern of the boat, where I had been 
! steering, and shouted with all my strength. 

I I listened a moment, and heard through the 
! thick fog, and above the breaking of the 
I'surf, the sweet voice of my boy calling, 

" Come this way, father! — steer straight for 
me — I'm here waiting for you!" We steer- 
ed by that sound, and soon my little boy 
leaped into my arms with joy, saj'ing, " I 
knew you would hear me !" and nestled to 
' sleep on-'my bosom. The child and the 
' maiden are both sleeping now. They died 
;in two'short weeks after the period 1 refer 
to, v.-ith hardly an interval of time between 
I their deaths. Now tossed on the rough sea- 
pf life, without compass or guide, envelop- 
ed in the fog, and surrounded by rocks, I 
! seem to hear the sound of that cherub voice 
' calliiig from the bright .shore, " Come this 
j way, father ! — steer straight for me I" — 
j When oppressed with sadness, I take my 
' way to our quiet cemetery; still, as I stand 
' by a little mound, the same musical voice 
echoes from tlience — " Come this way, 
] father ! — I'm waiting for thee !" 

.1 rememlior a voice 

"Whicli once gtiided my way 

"When lost on-the sea, ' ■ . •■ 

Fog-enshro.mled I lay; . ^ 

'T"\vas the voice of a cJiild, , . 

As lie stood on the sliore — 

It &'onnded out clear 

O'er the l>illo'^\"s' loud roar — 

" Come this -\vay, my father I „^ 

Here safe on the shore ' . 

1 aru'waitiagfor thee!" . ''■'-. 

rremembor that voice 
"Jlidst rocks and through breakers 
And ]ii,a;li da-?hing spray; 
How sweet tomy heart 
Did it spund from the shore, 
A .< it echoed out clear 
O'er the dark billows' roar — 
" Come this way, my father! — ; 
Steer strait for me; 
Here safe 'on the shore 
T am waiting for thee !" 

I rcraenibermyjoy 
When I held to my breast 
The form of that dear one. 
And soothed it to lest. 
For the tones of my child, — 
"I called you, dear father. 
And know you would hear. 



CLASSIC UNION 



b7 



^{)c € lag sic Enioix: - 

"Nisi domiiiu-. t.ii^tia." 
JI. inLL'^M lY, ' ' 

A\D THE FicUlTI OS 1 MON C^IVt^ISI1^\ , 

Editoro and Pioprietois 




NOVEMBER 1, 186] 



more intimi'e connexion. berween between! evidence of any .peculiar attachment of 
o-iyino'ahd ii^&jiviii,;- . Uiiia. tliis^ .and that I Peter to these things, by which a pi-efer- 
theXil'Sa.'iUCi' is dei;ivf.d dli"*iC-]y /I'ona, the ence for Christ \TOuld show' any great af- 
J<;t-pr "•i-vini'', .without respect to any fu- ' fectioo, for he might have loved Christ 
ture reiucn-in-incroasM-Wtftilfch or \yovldly better than he did his fishing utensils, and 
pOs"sessions, and is feltin .as great <v4egree ' y6t hare ha,d no great" love for him. If 
bvhimwho.nevei^receive? or expects to the masculine be used, then it refers to 
icceiveintjiis war, a.s by liim who does, j the other disciples, and may be rendered, 
II likens rnaii to his makej-, and affords "lovest thou me more than these (other) 
I he same source of ■hivppinessJrom whence j disciples do?" This version, or sense, of 
i„ is received by the Divine mind itself.—^ tbe passage, seems to accord with all the 
To do good and communicate happiness] circumstances of the case, and the most 
to his "creatures is the unceasing em- .easy'of explication, .and therefore to be 
^ ])loymeut of-God, and -is, doubtless, to preferrijdV __ 

him a scarce of happiness in proportion to j Previous to the crucifi.xion of Christ, 
Lis stupendous jjlans and the number and Peter, with chaiacterlstic forwardness, 
magnitude of the Jjlessings. which he be- had 'sti-ongly intimated bis superior at- 
stows. As man does good an.d communi- 
cates happiness to his fellows, he becomes 
like -God, and opens to himself the same 

fountain of bliss from which Deity hjmself I be oflfended, and that he would die with 

derives it. .1 him rather than deny him." Notwith- 

We know we do not speak to the com- ' standing these strong declarations of Peter 

ceive'' is the language of Christ,, and pos- ' prehension of the covetous man, when we that the other disciples might forsake him, 

sesses all the force a'^id authority of eter- 1 talk of the pleasure of doing good; but | or be, offended' because of him, rather 

than himself, the others stood firm, and 

Peter alone denied him when the time of 

havino- relieved the sufferings of his fel- trial came. If the passage before us, and 

low creatures; who basdried the tear from 

the widow's weeping eyes, and poured 

gladness into the broken and disconsolate referred to the subject of Peter's apostasy, 
heart; who has led back the w^inderer from or that any penitence for the deed was 
the paths of wee and restored him to vir- ; ever manifested except his weeping wlien 
of professed Christians. It evolves, how- ' tue and happiness, realizes the truth of the ■ Christ looked on him, at the time. It is 
ever, an jmpCrtant principle in the divine; declaration, "It is more blessed to give not likely that our Lord would let such a 
economy, and affords an element of supe- than to receive.'' j defalcation pass without suitable espres- 

,This,is.perhaps the only case in which j sions of penitence, especially as all the 
men prefer the less good, when the great- apostles were knowing of the event, and 
er is within their reach. To receive, is. 



tachment to Christ, over his brethren, de- 
claring that -'though all men should be 
offended because~of him he would never 



THE BLESSEDNESS OF DOIXG GOOD. 
"It is more blessed to give than to re- 



nal truth, yet how few, it is to b« feared, ' the benevolent who is^ accustomed to do 
believe it. We do not say that any pro- good from principle, and is conscious of 
fess€d disciple of Christ disputes its truth, 
or that any one would refuse to assent to 
it, for to do otherwise would be open in- 
fidelity. But we doubt whether the pro- 
position is received into the heart and 
made a principle of actionbj'' a majority 



its context, do not refer to these events, 
then there is no evidence that Christ ever 



rior enjoj'raent. If it was universally xe- 
ceived and acted upon it would soon re- 
lieve all the wants of suffering humanity 



as far as human power can do so, and in 
its reflex influence protect the giver,, how' 



would, without suitable expressions of 
repentance, be suspicious of him as a co- 
worker as witnesses for the truth. If this 



admitted by, implication to be a blessing 

but to.give, a greater;, but most person 

ever prodigal his benevolence from want I prefer the siaaller^ blessing, and content ' was the design of our Lord, to remind Pe 

or injury. It was upon this principle the! themselves ..\£ith receiving only. H. ! ter of his denial of him, what more natu 

first disciples acted when they sold, their., ' .' • . I ral than Christ should introduce the snb 

possessions, and distributed toevery ma.ri ^ '<xoVE3T THOU ME IIORE THAN THESE?".! ject by a reference to his boasted attach- 



according as he had need. And it is the 
principle that must animate and impel 
christian action before the light of truth 
will illumine the dark corriersof our earth, 
and tlie Son of God return to- reign in 
peace and triumph over a redeemed world. 
It is also an element of superior enjoy- 
ment. It is maintained by some, and with 
truth no doubt, that he that gives liberal- 
ly, through the blessings of a kind provi- 
dence, has his possessions increased in a 
ratio greater than the diminution from giv' 
ing, and thus "it is more blessed to give 
than to receive." But the enjoyment in 
this case does not arise directly from giv- 
ing, but rather from receiving the product 
of giving. There is, we apprehend, a, 



The bbsCTirity of this pasage lies in the 
difficulty of fixing with certainty the pro- 
per application of "these." The same ob- 
scurity which exists in our version is found 
in the original also, which determines no- 
thing with certainty, what its true applica- 
tion is. It may be either in the masculine 
or neuter gender, if m the latter it refers 
to Peter's occupation and fishing utensils, 
and may.be rendered, "lovest thou me 
more than these things?" that is, more 
thanjon love these- (m77ffs. To this inter- 
pretation may be objected the frigidness 
of the sense, and its want of congeniality 
with the spirit of the conversation between 
our Lord and Peter. Besides, there is no 



ment, and what better calculated to pene- 
trate his heart and bring him to a sense 
of his own weakness and arogance ? The 
interrogative at once brought up to Pe- 
ter's mind his error, and in reply could 
only repeat, "Lord, thou knowest I love 
thee." This was enough, Christ restored 
him to his ministry by directing him to 
"Peed my sheep." H. 

Ignora.vce Haxdep Dow.v. — "'W'^hafs that?" 
asked a pedagogue pointing to tlie letter X. — 
" It's daddy's name." " No you blockhead, it's 
X." " 'Taint X mislier, it's daddy's name for I 
seed him write it many a time." 

iCT A lazy fellow named Jack Hole, living 
near Covington, Ky., has adoptedaway of spell- 
ing his name, which throws stenography clear 
into the shade. He makes a big "J." and then 
jobs his pen through the paper for the " Hole,'-' 



58 



CLASSIC Fix I ON, 



SABBATH DESECRATI0:N". 

We have- spoken, iu foroier numbers' of 
the- fearful wj^irfhc of respo isibili y in- 
curred hy thoj>,e,wtfo disreyarJlhe l:nv of 
the Sabbath aiiJ .placjti templntion '.o do 
the .same in the way of o:h<,'rs. . We 
would, at this time, view the su :j«;l in 
another lii^ht. The mo;ive in most c;tses 
which leads'to the pivblis- dessecra- ion of 
the Sabba;h, i;' tile desire Tor- yain. , Bat 
■wp would iiwjuire' whether the -love -Of 
gain is truly g;rati-iied, by this cour.- e ?r^- 
We fully be'lie^'e Umt Sunday profi s -are 
imaginary,- not real. As lon^; as God 
rei,,;ns, the Sovereign of ihe Universe, he 
■will vindicate his 1> ws and not su-fer tj-iem 
to be trample .1 upon witli impunity. It 
is easy for .Ilim, wi.hout wortii-g- any 
mir.-icle,, to Mocoraplish i; to pause disas_-_ 
t£rs -and losses which more than eancel 
all the gains ob -a'ned 1 j Sabbath uesi era-, 
tifiu. What iriearts the trigh ful arr.-iy of 
steamboat accidents ibat - greets our eyes 
in almost every paper?^ — 'f I'ey are no 
doubt the effec; of secondary eause.s but 
they are not the less' the voice of 'God 
speaking to the nartonHo teach hi s will. ^ — 
Enquire into the facts and you will ascer- 
tain that all of these steiiraboats on which 
accidents have occurred weie in ihe habit 
of paying no regard lo the Sabbath. The 
Griffith whose destrucoion cau-ed a thrill of 
horror through the whole nation, and on 
board of which two hundred human be- 
ings met with death in its most terrific form, 
left Buffalo on Sunday morning <ind sev- 
eral passengers who weie too conscientious 
to travel on that day waited for the iMon- 
day's boat and thus saved their lives. — 
Lake Champlain which forms a part of the 
great thoroughfare between ^Montreal and 
KJew York city, has been continvally 
plowed by steamboats for nearly iif y 
years and but one steamboat aciiJent has 
ever oecuriel there and in that accident 
not a single life was lost. The steamboats 
on that Lake have been in the uniform 
habit of lying in port through the Sabbath. 
While the boatmen assemble to worship 
God in the chapels erected for their benefit. 
Those who see not the hand of God in 
facts like these, must be morally and i-pir- 
itually blind. The phyijjal laws which 
govern the universe are laws which God 
has enacted lor his own glory and it would 
be absurd to suppose that he lias not the 
power to guide and control these for_^the 
production of moral i-esults. The moral 
interests of the universe are by far the 
highest, and the whole history of the world 
shows that God has ever made the physi-j 



cal subservient to the liioral, and thcfugh 
sentence Against an evil work is not always 
speedily executed yet there are numerous 
instances in which God vindicates the hon- 
or of his moral la~Wf- by the dispensations 
of his proyiJenoe. He shows his dis- 
plea-me agdnst iniquity' in so marked and 
decided a manner that none ne<;xi-rai slake- 
the lessors he -de.-iign=i -to. -teafch. _To-lhis 
vi^'w'it rnaybe objeetetf ihat the innocent 
sh-ifsijii ihe .punishme'nt d'eslgned for the 
guilty. Butin-iy- fiot the same objection 
btHxrgued againsL m ny tliiirgs which are 
know-u and e.sta%rished facts "? Do not the 
innlo>ent suffer 'with the guilty in all tlie 
pan It'erJ'of vrolated law? Did' not the 
wL'e an I datightcr of Dr. Webster-suTer 
even more keenlv the consequences of his 
crjne ban :he criminal himseh? As well 
raighLweis;iy that Dr. Webster's exeou ion 
was 11 )r dt^signed for his punishment be- 
cause the s lifei'mg was shared by those 
who'we.ein oxnt of any crime. 

Does not th^ brief history oT our own 
railro'id go to corroborate the jiosi.ion'we 
have taken. It is well known that this 
road commenci-d its career by violating the 
Sabbath and thus far the providence of 
God seems not to have favored it. Acci- 
den s have become so frequent that many 
are not willing to trust themselves upon it, 
and heme an indirect loss to the company; 
and'if to this, we add 'the e.xpense of re- 
pairing darnages, would it not quite swal- 
low up all the profits that have arisen from 
Sunday trips? Oh when ' will men be 
wise"! when frill-they learn that their true 
interest is consulted by conforming their 
lives stricdy to the will of God ? 

- . . - _ E. 

I Witi,.— ^We like tliat strong robu.st ex- 
pres.-ion. No otje h■^^•^ng ut ered it in 
sincerity, was ever a mean crying man.— 
The pigmies o:' he wo.-ld did not trouble 
hira, although hey rose in ip-rs.ses to pull 
him down. He speaks and the indomita- 
ble will prevails. His enemies fall-before 
him. He rides forth a conqueror. Would 
'yoU be great ? Would you be distingui^h- 
ed for your .-cientilic or hlerary attain- 
ments ? Look not mournfully at your lo , 
but with " 1 will" breathing irom your 
lips, and b.ii'sting from a great heart you 
cannot but prevail. Show us the man 
who never rose higher than a todd-stool, 
and who ;e influence died wi h his brealh, 
and we will joint you to a groping, cring- 
ing wretch, who trembled at tlie approach 
oi a spider and fainted beneath a ihunder 
cloud. Let the tires of energy play 
through your veins, and'if your dioii^hts 
are directed in right channels, you will yet 
startle the slumbering universe. 



The first part of Cparitf consists in 
pniting away evils, and the second part 
in pointj good actions that abe. useful 
TO orii Neighbor. — This tenet, that it 
is ihe iirst part of charity to do no evil to 
our neighboi-, and the second, to do him 
good, occupies the first place in the doc- 
trine of charity, for ft is the door to it.— 
It is an acknovvledged -truth, that evil re- 
sides in the win of every man from his 
bir;h; and w-hereas all evil regards man 
bo^li near itself and at a distance from it- 
self, and also the society to which a man 
belongs and his country, it follows tha 
hereditary evil is evil against our neigh- 
bor in every ilegree. The light of reason 
itself may discover, that so far as the evil 
inherent in the will is not removed, the 
good which a man does is impregnated 
with that evil; for in snch case evil is 
within the good, like a nut in its husk, and 
like the marrow in a bone;, of consequence, 
ahhough the good done by such a persion 
has the appearance of good, yet inwardly 
it is not so, being like a sound husk within 
jvliich is a kernal eaten by worms, or like a 
f lir almond that is rotten wi.hin, the cor- 
rupt veins of which spread even to the 
surface. To will evil and to do good, are 
in their nature opposite to each o her, for 
evil is grounded in hatred towards our 
neighbor, and good in love towards him; or 
in other words, evil is our neighbors ene- 
my, and good his friend, which two cannot 
possibly exist together in one and the 
same mind; that is, evil in the internal 
man and good in the external; foriu such 
case good in the external man would be 
like a wound superficially healed, but in- 
wardly full of puLrid matter. Man, in 
such circumstances, is like a tree whose 
root is decayed through age, but which 
yet produces fruit that appears outwardly 
like fruit of a good flavor aad fit for use, 
but inwardly is unsavory and useless; Dr 
he is like the scorilaa separated from nafl- 
tals, which, when polished and of beauti- 
ful color, lire sold for precious stones: in 
short, they may be compared lo the eggs 
of an owl, which men are induced to be- 
lieve are the eggs of a dove. Let it be 
observed that the good which a man does 
in the body proceeds from his spirit, or 
from the internal man, for this is his spirit 
that lives after death, and of cons(-'quence, 
when man casts oft' his body, wdiiih con- 
stituted his external man, he is then wholly 
and entirely immersed in the evils of his 
li.'e, and takes didight in them, while good 
is held in aversion, as being oflencive to 
his life. That man cannot do good which 
is truly eo, before €vU is put away, iif 



CLASSIC UNION. 



59 



Lord teaches in m my places: "Do men 
gHther grapes of t lorns or figs of tliisLlos? 
A corrupt tree cannot bring forili good 
fruit." (Matt. vii. 16, V7, 18.). "Woe 
unto you, IScnbes and l'hari.sw.-s, 'hypo- 
crites! for ye make clean ilie ottiside of tlit? 
cup and the platter, Lu. within they are 
fall of extortion and excess. Thou bliriJ 
Pharisees, chanse first ba^L which is wiJi- 
in the cup and [ la tt r, tiiat the outsfde of 
them may be ckan a so." (xxii. 25, 26 ) 
And in Isa ah: "Wash jou: put awuy the 
evil of yo'.ir do n s; cease to do evil; learn 
to do well; siek judgmin:; and then if 
j*our sins be as scarlet, they shall be made 
whiceas snow; if they be red like purple, 
they shall be as wool." (i. 16, 17. 18.) 
* * * * * * * 

It is believed at the present day that 
charity consists only in doing good, and 
that whilst a man is doing good he does 
no evil, constquin ly, t.Lat the first part 
o: charity is to do gojd, and the second 
n t to do evil; bit .he case is aUogeiher 
tae reverse, it being the firs': part of chari- 
ty to put away evil, and the second to do 
good. For it is a universal law in the 
spiritual world, and thence too in the natu- 
ol world, that so for as a person wills no 
evil, he wills what is good; consequently, 
so far as he turns himself away from hell, 
whence all evils ascends, he turns himself 
towards heaven, whence all good decends; 
and, therefore, so far as any one rejects 
the devil, h« is accepted by the Lord. It 
is impossible for any person to stand be- 
tween both, turning his neck about, and 
praying at the same time to one and to the 
other; for these are they of whom the 
Lord spake, when he said, "I know thy 
works, that thou ar. neither cold nor hot; 
I would thou wert cold or hoi; so then 
because thou art lukewarm, and neither 
cold noi hot, I will spue the out of my 
mou:h." (Sev. jii. IS, 16.) How is it 
possible for an officer to stand waverinu- 
w ith his troops be woen two armies, ar.d 
to take part with bo:h? How is it possi- 
ble for any one to be in evil aga na his 
neighbor, and at the same tinj in good to' 
wards him? In sucli a Ccise, does not ev ] 
lurk within the good? And akhough in 
such its hidden state it may not appear in 
outward acts, yet it will show itself in 
many particulars, if they be duly, atten- 
ded to The Lord says, "JVo maa can 
serve two masters; ye cannot serve God 
and mammon." (Luke xvi; 13.) 

No one, however, is able b}' his own 
power and his own strength to purify h.m- 
•elf frome^ils, and yet such purification 
oiADot b* effeeted witbont the power »nd ' 



strength of man as his own; for wi hont I 
this; nd one woul 1 be iible to tigjii against 
the' flesh and i^.s lusts, which ntver lulesS 



THE C4USE GF DISASTERS. 

We scarcely ever tak« up a paper that 
kn^vodoi all; nav, n* one would «v-en: '^"^'* "'^^ """^^'^ '^°™<= awful disasters pro- 
iliink of any ..ueh h^lVt or w: rfare, and '^'"""^ ^^ ''"^^"^ ^'^'^^'' "' «"''"" '='"■«■ ^' 
t; us would abandon hU hand" ti, oUs of "'^^^^ "PP^'"'' '" ^' «' ''V^' '"«*' ^^^1 the 
ev.rf kind" Uing rcs-rKJned iVdm ih^.j^ cause of these disas:ers should be consid- 
acu.l perp. tr^.ion by *-orkHy l.ws and l*^'"'^'"" * '''-^'""''"^ ''o'^' ^''"" what they 
iwo^idlypuni-hmvnt.sor,ry; *us he would ''«^'-' hitherto been and a remedy applied 

to the same. _ 

In almost every accident the eauseJs at- 

; trilmted to some unskillful conduct in the 

managx-rsorto a deficiency in the strength 

„.^„- J , ■ u -J orquahties of the material of which the 

ndowed wub reason, and i \ . . 

engine is made. But it has lonij since 



inwaidlybe like a iger, a leopard, and a 

serpent, whrdi nivt r reflec on the cruel 

ties ihey exircise i"u the gratification of 

th'eir lu<ts end loVts. L ispl^in then that 

man, bein 

thereby exalted above' the beasts, ought 

to. resis evils by \ irttie of the powerand 
4 .1 • 1 ■ c .1 T 1 1-1 . frt;q"ent tolhesk-ilU'ul as to the unskillful 
strength given liira of the Lord, A\hicli in ' 



bi. en perceived, tlvat accidents are justas 



every respect ot feeling and of senVe ap- 
pear to him as hi<s own; nnd this ?ppear- 
' ance is communicated to every man by iKe 
Lord, for the s ke of regener.ition, impu- 
tation, conjuuclion arid salvation. 



Phenomena of FLAME.^The 'pri^lcipal 



m nagers, and hence the cause of the mis- 
fortunes is unjusily attribu'x'd to their con- 
due'. Theiurlders or m-akers are often- 
times blamed for being unfaithful in the dis- 
charge of their duties, in the selecting of 
the.materinis, and the construction of the 
same. But it is unreasonable to suppose 



phenomenon s of flame are well exhibiLed j ^^^"-^ ^''^V ^™"1J P'^^ "f «" inferior job of 
by a large gas-flume burning fn>m a wide i ''^*^''l^ o"^''*"'^ '5"^^<>™'''''' ^^^'^^ '' would evi- 
orifice. I presents a hollow cone, the rtfn ly injure iheirreputation. 
Lea: and light of which ere confined toils But cannot the cause of accidents be at- 
exterior surface. A cross section of such t'''t'wt^<i 'o a difl^erent source ? May it not 
a flame exi.i jits a ring of light enclosing, ^^^ '''^^ infliction of a curse for a violation 
like a shell, a central uninflamed core, ol °'' ^^"^ command " remember the Sabbath 
of which an inmi b;e vapor may be drawn | ^''y- 'okeep i.holy. Six days shall thou 
by a tube inseited into it, and again kin-- i ^'^^°^' »"^ ^^ "11 thy work; but the seventh 
died at the- exUemily of the tube, a ; '* '''^^ ®'*^'''"'^ °' the Lord thy God; in it 
flame may be very hot without being pro- 1 tlwu shall not do any work." How awful 
porlionately luminous. The flame of hy- j ™"^' ^^ ^'"^ condition of those who not only 
drogen, for instance, is carcely visible in r^'" themselves but offer an inducement for 
daylight, but its heat may be shown, by !° '^'^''^ '" ^°- I" England those engaged 
pl.cingin ita wire of. platinum, which im^ '^ desecrating the Sabbath by means of 
media;ely acquires- a white heal, gn J | rail way cars are no: onlj under a curse in- 
emitsan abundance of light. The li^rht curred by violating the command of God, 
of h11 flames is of similar origin, and de- : bu, also their stock is ruinously low. Of 
p-nJs upon soiii mitier i,n tid.and lei- tlie three hundred and fifiy millions of dol- 
de-ed glorting by tJie- hea: of the flt.mj. lars which Have been invested in railroad 
Thus, if m ignesia,' or lime in fine powder, :*'"'•"''• ^'"^ average- dividend is but three 

be pi-ojec-ed into • the fldme of hydrogen, P*^"" <"^^- ^^^ ^°^^ ''''^" *^-'*' * ^^^S^ 
the brightness of the flame is immediately ■ ""^^er of (ainl accidents have occurred 
increased. Allcommon flames, as those '"^^ '*■*■ How long shall it be before our 
of coal gas, wax and tallow candles, Ac, ^'''■''■'^''" "'•''^^'^ '° ^^ annoyed on the Sab- 
owe their brightness to minute particles of bath, by the engines the delight of the 
charcoal. Whtn flames are cooled, they >''='''='^ ""•= ' ^' '" fashioaable now ac/ay» 
are at the same lime extinguished. Hence | ^'*'" constituting societies to produce a de- 
a flame may, as it were, be cut in two by , ^'"''^ ^^'^'•='- ^"^^ '" '"'"' * ^""'''^y ''^ "'''='■ 
a piece of wire gauze held horizontally ^^^ '^O""''"-^' '° P"^ "'^ '^"'^ '^ the desecra- 
across it. In ihis case, the smoLe, ™s, """^ "^ ^^" «<'bbaJ,. 

I J 

or vapor and chajooal, go llinmgh, but . — • 

being cooled by their passage Uirough the! Back N umbi rs. — We have a supply 
gauze, ihey cannot inflame; yet by appi) - of .he back i.umbius of the Ctaasic Union 
ing aflame to this smoke it may aga.n be j on hand. New subscribers can be sup- 
kindled. — Thus the u])per jior ion ot ilie ! plied with all the numbers. 

flame may be burneu, while ihe intlam- j 

mation of the lowc-r halt is prevented by Weep for love, but never for anger a 
tbo interpoaod cooling m&dinm. ! cold rain nerer brings floirera. 



GO 



CLASSIC UNION. 



THK COLLEGE COMMONS., 

There are those who entertain nothing 
less than a holy reverence for the antique^ 
and spurn every effort, having a tendency 
to produce a change-. .When a-ny. aU6);a- 
tion is proposed, . i^;. Is lieard from>.-,evej-y 
quarter, that the spirit of innovation, is 
brealiing down the old land-mca-Jcs . and 
forsaking the good old way our ,. fathers 
trod. Eeally nothing apgeai-s more, ab- 
surd to us than tO; defend anyLhing upon 
the ground that it was practiced liCty or 
an hundred years ago with apparent suc- 
cess. ,. .. . , 

In nothing is antiquity more earnestly 
claimedj than in the present course of 
.college instruction and college commons. 
It.is the latter, of these of which, we ij.i- 
tend to speak in this article, bearing with 
it ..the uninterrupted existence of centu- 
ries, having gained the^ approbation .<5f 
scores of instructors whose lives have been 
passed in the college precinetSj , and now 
defended from almost- every quarrter.— 
Doubtless it had its origin in some -of . the 
English Universities,, w^here the nobihty 
finding that the youth of the land needed 
some initiatory training to make them 
good and loyal subjects, — it being, at. that 
time customary for a number of the coU 
lege officers to have the constant supervi- 
sion of the students. Some of our New 
England Universities, constituted by grad- 
isates from Cambridge and Oxford, in the 
days of colonial oppression^ where the 
same usages were instituted as those then 
prevalent in the English Universities. — 
From these institutions our Ajnerlcan.Goh 
leges have borrowed the custom of col- 
lege commons, the disadvantages arising 
from which are various. 

It appears to us, that- the- transition 
from the parental roof to that of this new 
manner of living is too great. " It is ex- 
pecting of youths that which could scarce- 
ly be expected of those of a riper age. — 
Tliey have been accustomed whilst at 
liome to parental supervision, to ^;he ad- 
vice and sympathy of friends and -rela- 
tions, and are thus thrown aloof iipon the 
coldest charity the world ever sayv. 

Moreover, it is an established fact that 
the vicious are more earnestly engaged 
than the virtuous in gaining proselytes, 
and no one becomes more easily a dupe 
to their wickedness than the young man 
thus shut out from the influences of home, 
and suddenly removed from the restraints 
vhich arise from being under the inspec- 
tion of parents and relations. The man- 
ners and habits thus aoq[uire(i by the un- 



interrupted association of young men 
thrown together for a long time,, is by no 
means desii-able, and anything else, thai) 
that of^society at large., .nieir ignorance 
of the w.qrld is astonishing, and if the re- 
currence .of .Yacaticrts did^ not produce a 
very wlvolesorrie influence, ■. they woidd 
soon forget all the .examples set before 
•theni in their childhood. ,, 

In addition to what has. been said, a 
large ra'ajori-ty of the colleges of tlie pre- 
sent day do not. offer _wh at they pretejjd,- 
namely, parerifeil supervision and insti-uc- 
_ti.Qn. .Th-e latter may be; but the former 
is rarely if ever afforded. . It is expecting, 
too nflnch of the Professors. 

What then is the propo^d remed}' for 
this.evil.? We answer: Do a.way ^yith 
jo\ix .conunons, abandon tliem forever, and 
provide boarding for the students in pri- 
vate families. .This will appear most like 
home, since it really is so. Here, the 
heads of the families have the supervi- 
sion of tlie students when out of the re- 
citation rooili. • Here but a few are assern- 
bied, and the inducements to waste time 
in frivolous conversion are not so many. — 
Her* the vicious find fewer opportunities 
and fewer subjects- for making proselytes. 
Here they 'are better nursed, and better 
attention given in cases of protracted sick- 
ness. Here they forget none of the pre- 
cepts or good examples set before them at 
home. Here are better opportunities for 
taking exercise, a very important item in 
regard tobealtli. Finally, it is here where 
the Iveads of the families can co-operate 
with, the Faculty in instilling useful lessons 
,of virtue and morality, J. 



An Incident FKOsi History.— A poor, country 
girl travelled from Gee Croes, near Manchester, 
to Londian, during the troubles ih the time o'f 
Charles I., to ask a place as a servant. Failing 
in this object of her ambition, she engaged hel-- 
s'elf as, what was called " tub woman" to a brew- 
er — that is she carrifed out the beer from the 
bre-w-iiouse. Pleased -with her healthy, hand- 
some face, the brewer raised her to the position 
of his servant — then to that of his wife — finally 
to that of a widow, with a hand.some dowry. — 
She engaged Mr. Hyde, then celebrated as a 
clever lawyer, to settle some puzzling money mat- 
terefor her; and as liis own money matters hap- 
pened to be not only puzzling, but in a hopeless 
statejust then, he proposed to the rich widow 
and married her. Mr. Hyde became Lord Chan- 
cellor and Earl of Clarendon. The only daugh- 
ter of this marriage became wife of James II., 
and mother of tlie Princesses Mary and Anne; 
and so the poor " tub wpnian" ended her life as 
Countess of Clarendon, wife to the Loi'd Chan- 
cellor of England, and mother to one, and grand- 
mother to two Queens of England. 



O" Bpoks were bound in oak boards until the 
fourteenth century. 



,CHR:?OFBLI]SfD>i'ESS AND DEAFNESS. 

The p.ublic have been so frequently and sadly 
humhugijcd upon' almost all- subjects, until the 
announcemeiit of .a:ny hew discovery brings to 
our minds the host of quacks Avho from time to 
time liave practisgd dgcBptiou even upon the 
iucreduloiis. But we, see. it stated, and coming 
from very high autliority too, that Dr. Trum- 
bull, a physician of London, announces a new 
discovery in medicine, wliich if the accounts be 
.true.,.is.4fle..of the inost importaot .in Ui/s " age 
of .vender.". He states, tljat. he ,P.a^ effecta per- 
ffiatcure in uaost nll'cases o|^ blindness and deaf- 
ness.> ■ ' " . . 

His acco.mit is as follow.?: " Some years ago 
having observed that' tlie eyes, -of. persons -who 
liaddiedof hydrociamic or prussic acid, be- 
coine dilated and unusually clear^ just after 
death, it occurred to him that the acid must ex- 
ert some specific action upou the eyes. He con- 
sequently made a number of experiments, and 
was deli.glited to find that his conjectures were 
not without trutli. The sight of those who were 
near-sighted was immediately relieved by it, 
while the eyes of persons totally blind were 
gradually opened. The vapor of the acid, for 
the vapua alone was used, seemed to act both 
as a stimulant and sedative. By exciting the 
small blood vessels, the circulation was quick- 
ened, and the eye soon relieved itself of allmor- 
bid affections. Subsequent experiments showed 
thatthe practice might be varied to suit different 
maladies, by employing othe/ but kindred 
agents, such as cloracyanic acid, sulphurated 
cliyazic acid, aiidchlozaret of iodine. They are 
simply put into a glass vial and the vapor ap- 
plied to the eye, but as there are very destructive 
agents, the utmost care must be taken in the 
application. 

We see it also stated that William Chajobers, 
the ecfitor of Chambers' Journal has witnessed 
severaloperations in which tlie remedies had 
tlie desired effect, witli the entire restoration of 
the patient's health. lie editor of tlie Literary 
Gazette gives the same testimony. The Loudon 
Times says: "A number of scientific gentlemen 
assembled yesterday at the house of Dr. Trum- 
bull, in Russell Square, to witness the results 
produced by a process recently discovered by the 
Doctor, and applied for the cure of deafness and 
blindness. 

"Between twenty and thirty patients attended, 
many of whom, it was stated by their parents, 
had been V. .'n deaf and dunib. Thoy' were sub- 
mitted to various tests, by which it was proved 
, that their deafness had been cured by the appli- 
cation of Dr. Trumbull's reinedies; and what 
appears more singular is, that whether the dis- 
ease depended on paralysis of the auditory 
nerve, ruptures of the tympanum or obstruction 
of the internal p'aSSagtB^, relief had been imme- 
diately obtained, or complete cure effected with- 
out o elay, pain, .or incouvenietcce. Several pa- 
tients who represented that they had been com- 
pletely blind, said thej' could now see perfectly 
well." ' 

The accounts are ce-rtainly very singular, yet 
by no means unreasonable. If they be true, 
■n'hich we do not doubt. Dr. Trumbull deserves 
to be held in everlasting remembrance by those 
of the human family afflicted witli blindness 
and deafuess. The Dr. is no-n- in this country 
and intends making some experiments at some 
of our public institutions in the preseBCe of 
scientific gentlemen. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



CI 



A MAN'S COUNTRY HIS NEIGHBOR. 

Tlie reason why a man's counhy is his 
neiglibcrr more than a single society, is, 
because it consists of. several societies, so 
that the love he bears towards it is of a 
more extensive and superior kind; more- 
over, to love one's country is; to love th-e 
public welfare. Every man's country 
Stands in the relationship of neighbor, iy 
reason of its resemblance to a parent; for 
the country which gave hioa.. birth is ever 
g'iving him .support also-, , and affording 
him security from injuries. 'Men -are bound 
from a principle of love to do good to their 
country according to its wants, of which 
some are natural and some are spiritual: 
natural .wants regard civil life and order, 
and spiritial wants regard spiriuuil life 
and order. That every man is bound to 
love his counti-y, not as he loves himself, 
but in preference to himself, is a law in- 
scribed on the human heart, whence the 
universal saying to which every upright 
man subscribes, that when in danger of 
destruction, whether from an enemy or 
from any other source, it is honorable lor 
an}' one to die in his country's cause, and 
that it is glorious for a soldier to shed his 
blood in her defence: and these expres- 
sions are irsed to mark the very great loye 
which should bind us to our (.ountry. ' 

The Church is our neighbor, whom 
■we are bound to love in a higher degree; 
and the kingdom of the Lord is our nviigh- 
bor, and ought to be loved in the highest 
degree. — As man is bom to eternal life, 
and is introduced into it by the church, 
therefore the church ought to be loved by 
him as his neighbor in a higher degree; 
for she teaches the means that lead to eter- 
nal life, and introduces liim into, it, lead- 
ing him to it by the truths of doctrine, and 
introducing him into it by the goods of 
life. We do not mean by this thaj. the 
priesthood is to be loved in a superior de- 
gree, and church subordinately, but that 
the good and truth of the church should 
be loved, and the priesthood on their ac- 
count, since the priesthood is designed on- 
ly to act as a servant to such good and 
truth, and should be respected in propor- 
to the service which it yields. Theie is 
also a further reason why the church is 
neighbor, and entitled to a superior degree 
of love, and consequently to be ranked 
above our country, and tliis is because 
man by his country is iniated into civil 
life, but by the church into spiritual life, 
■which latter distinguishes man from a 
animal. Besides, civil life is but tempo- 
ral, and has termination, and is then as if 
it had never existed; whereas spiritual life 
having no end, is eternal, and may there- 
fore be said to have a real esse or being, 
b-ut temporal life is a state of non esse, or 
non being; the difference is as between 
finite and infinite, between which there 
can be no compaiison, for- what is eternal 
is infinite in respect to time. 

The reason why the kingdom of the 
Lord is our neighbor, that ought to be 
loved in the highest degree, is, because it 
includes the church dispersed throughout 
tlie whole earth, which is called the com- 
munion of saints, and also heaven; — who- 



soever then loves the kingdom of the 
Lord, loves all those throughout the whole 
world who acknowledge the Lord, -and 
live in faith towards him and in charify 
towards their neighbor; 'and lie loves too 
all who are in heaven. They who love 
the kingdom of the Lord love the Lord 
above all things, and are thus influenced 
more than others by the love to God;, for 
the church in heaven and throughout the 
earth is the Lord's body, the members 
thereof being in the -Lord, and the Lord 
in thepi. L<ive . tiierefore. towards the 
kingdom of the Lord, is love towards our 
neighberiu all its fullness; for they wlio 
1-ove the kingdom of the Lord not o"nl3: 
love the Lord above all thtngs, bu.t a.lso 
Jove their neighbor- <is tl\emsflyes; fo.r love 
towards the Lord is a universal- love, and. 
is consequently in all and 'everything that 
belongs to spiritiral life, as Well as in all 
and everything thill helQngs. to n. 'tural life; 
lor that love l>as its residence -in- maji's 
supreme or highest principles, and the 
highest descend by influx into the Vo-wer, 
communicatiiTg life to them, just as tl^e 
will enters into the whole of the intention, 
and thence desi;end« into action,-" arid as 
the understanding enters into the whole 
of the thought, and thence into the speech: 
wherefore the Lord says, "Seek ye first 
the kingdom. of God, and his righteous- 
ness, and all things shall ba added - unto 
you." (Matt, vl 33.) That the king- 
dom of God and of the heavens,- is the 
Lord's kingdom, is plain from this passage 
in Daniel: "And behold,- one like the Sun 
of Aim cam'e witlr the clouds of h-eaven, 
and there was given him'- dominion and 
glory, and a kingdom, that all people, na- 
tions, and languages should serve him; 
his dominion is an everlasting dominion, 
■which shall not pnss away, and his king- 
dom that which shall not be. destroyed." 
(Daniel vii 13, 14.) - , - 



THE POOR MAN. 



■What quiu is.poor? .Not he wliosg bro'w 
Is batlidd hi heaven's own lifjht— 
' 'WHioso kiiee alone' to Gnd must bow, 
At'moniiiif^ and at Biirlit — 

'\Vliose arm is nerved by healthful toil^ 
■V»'lio sits beneath the tree. 

Or treRiis upon ihe fi-nitCul soil, " • " 

- '\Vith spirits calm and fi-ec; ■ ■ ~ 

Go — let (he proud his gems behold, - 

-And view their sparkling ray. 
No silver vase, or j-ello'n'" gold,' ' 

Can banish cai-e a-way,' 
He «annot know tliat thrilling dream, • 

Which smiles within the cot •. 
Where siuiny look's and £acesglearrf 

To cheer the poor man's lot. >■ 

What man is poor ? Not he ■whose bro^w 

Is wet with heaven's o^wn dew — 
Who breathes to God the heart-felt vow. 

Whose pledge is deep and true. 
Tlie moruing-ealls his active feet 

To uoencliantingdorae; 
But evening and the twilight sweet, 

Shall light his pathway home. 

And there is musie to his ear. 

In the glad voice of liis child — 
His wife, with hurried step, draws near. 

With spirits undcfiled. 
Then turn not from the humble heart. 

Nor scorn liis humble tone; 
For deeper feelings tliere may start. 

Than the proud have cvcr'kaown. 



HAPPY "AND UNHAPPY HOMES'. 

j There are few persons, we presume, 
who will not readily admit that the fam- 
ily is the chief source of earthly happiness. 
The aft'ectionate intercourse of parents 
and children, brothers and; sisters, hus- 
j bands and wives, though not attended 
{ with the exciiement and fervor of some 
I other' enjoyments, nevertheless yieldis a 
j calm, .refreshing, purifying happiness which 
j nothing beside ever aflords. Nothing in 
^oivr earthly experience can afi'ord the las- 
iting satisfaction of the home aflTcctions; 
I nothing so mo-ulds and mellows the char- 
acter aiid ripens all the . estimable quali- 
I ties of the heart. 

j But it iieyer should be forgotten that 
i this home happiness-is a "product of cul- 
[ttire and diligent painstaking, and not a 
j result of haphazard and spontaneous 
I growth'.- If we would have happy homes, 
! we must apply ourselves to the nurture of 
i those affecuons, disposition and manners 
I which produce peace, pleasure, content- 
!m"ent and delight. If we imagine that 
these, things, will spring up. spontaneously, 
j we shall be so much mistaken as if we 
i.expected a. garden to yield fruits and 
flowers in which no seed had been planted 
and nosoil mellowed. 

If we .would have happiness at home, 
we must consider those things which are 
inimical to it, such as quick, bad tempers, 
faultfinding and complaining dispositions, 
envioifs and suspicious hearts, and what- 
ever breeds discord, disquietude and alien- 
ation, and all these faults and failings 
must be rooted out. Every member of 
the fitmily must be ready and willino- to 
make some sacrifice of ease, or of opinion, 
fbr the sake of the whole. 

Of course, a fitmily to be happy, must 
be in some degree an. intelligent family, 
deriving its pleasures from useful readino-, 
or enlightened converse, in,stead of beim^ 
dependent for topics' of thought upon the 
M'retched scandal and small talk which 
form the staple of ignorant, ill-bred house- 
holds, and which are ever engendering bad 
feehngs between neighbors and friends. 
_ -The great s'ecret of home happiness 
lies in the perfect readiness of all the mem- 
bers to discharge conscientiously and chee- 
fuHy the dulies belonging to their several 
relations, without stopping to consider the 
inconvenience or the cost.- It is a law of 
the moral world, prevailing every where, 
that those -\vho live for self must be mis- 
erable, and those who devote themselves 
to the -welfare and happiness of others 
must be themselves ha^py. AVhenever 
each member is chiefly solicitous for the 
welfare of the rest, than a general joy 
pervades the whole group, and it is not in 
the power of man to render such a house- 
hold miserable. In view of these sugges- 
tions, let every family circle to which this 
journal comes, make the effort faithfully 
and perseveringly to increase the happi- 
ness of home. 



An editor out west in speaking of a contem- 
porary, says that to see him swell, you ■n'ould 
swear he had been weaned on wooclcock; and 
yet the time has been when he could "bury a 
waxy tater without salt." We. have got a sam- 
ple of that kind of iiiea in Albany. 



G2 



CLASSIC UNION. 



;OLD FASHIOXED COURTSHIP. 

Lord Btican, in his liistory of Henry 
VII., siiys, "When tlie kin^- \v;is anciint, 
he had thoglKs of marrying tliu yountf 
Queen of Naples, and senl' three Ambas- 
sadors, with curious and exquisie instruc- 
tions for taking a survey of ht-r peison, 
■&C." -The following are some of his items 
in these inslruciions: — 5. liem. Especial- 
ly to make and note well the age and 
stature of the young- Quene,- and the fea- 
turys of her bodie. 6. Item. Specially to 
mark the favor of hir visage, whether she 
be paiynted or not, and whether it be f^tte 
or Veene, sharp or rowude, and wheth- 
er hir countenance be chierful and amyble, 
frownving or m?i!incolyous, stadfast or 
licht, or blushing in communicatiori. 7. 
Item. To note the clearness of hir skynne. 

8. Item. To note the colours of hir here. 

9. Item. To note well her ies, browes, 
teethe, and iippes. 16, Item. To marke 
well the fascion of her nose, and the 
keithe and brede of hir forhedde.' U. 
Item. Specially to note hir compexion. 
13. Item. To see hir hands bare, and to 
note the fascion of iheyme; whe:her the 
palme of bir hand be thikke or thynne;. 
and whether her hands bo fatte or leene, 
5onge or siiorte." 14. Item. To note her 
fyngers, whether they be longe or shorte, 
smale or grate, brode or narrowe before. 
17. Item. To marke whether there appere 
any here about her Iippes or not. 18 Item. 
That they endeavor theym to speke wih 
the said young quene fasting, and iha'' 
she may telle unto theym some matter a 
lenfthe, and to approache as nere to hir 
mouihe as they honesily maybe, to thi 
extent that they may felle the condieion 
of hir brethe, whether it be swete or no;, 
and to marke at every time when tlxey 
spoke with hir, if they fele any savor of 
spipes, rose waters, or muske, by the 
brethe of her mouthe or not. The an- 
swers of th« ambassadors were equal to 
the emergency, as will appear by' some 
extracts of their report: — to the 13th ar- 
ticle. As to thys artyeule, we saw tht 
hands of tli« said-quyn bare at the sondry 
times, that we kyssed hir said hands where- 
by we persavoyed the said quyn to be 
right fair handye and accordeynege unto 
hir personage they be somewhat fully and 
softe and faire and clene skynned. To 
the 18th article: As to this articule we 
could never come unto the speiche of the 
said quyn fasteynge wherefore we cowde 
nor mygght not attayne to knowliche of 
that pan of this articule. To the 22nd 
article: The said quyn ys a good feder 



and eets well bir meit twyes on a dave, 
and drvTikiih no: oftin, and that she 
-dryii! ithe most cwmmonly water, ?-n 1 
s^orne lime tint wattr ys bpilcj v.i h syiia^ 
m >n, and sotiie ime she drynkiil>e ypo-' 
eras, but nut oftm.' 



LO>'GIXG- , . - 

From this Tallei- low and (Irea^v, 

By tlie chillii;g misf-oppreShed, 
CiHiM I but the way di cover. 

How stiprenicly were 7 blessed! 
There J seethe snmiy hillsides 

Evergreen and ever i;av; 
Oh, if I were blessed with pinions, 
■ To the hills I'd soar away! 

Harmonies I hear resounding', 

Soothing tones of heavenly calm! 
And the gentle breezes tell me 

Of the fj-agrauce-breathiug balm. - 
Golden fruit I see there trlowiiig 

Beck'iiing mid the dark-green leaves; 
And those flowers of theif beantv 

No stern winter e'er bereaves. ' , 

Ah, how happy, how del'ghtful 

In the eternal sunshine ihere! 
And upon those lowely summits 

Oh how fresh must be the air! 
But I'm fritened by the river 

WhicJi between us madly raves; 
And my soul is filled wi-ili horror 

As I view its Sweeling.wave* 

On the stream a boat is rocking, 

. But ala-^! the pilot fails! 
En'cr boldly, without shriuk'n:. 

Full of lile thou'lt find its sails. 
Tlioii must trust, und thou mus venture. 
Heaven will pledge no helping hand, 
Notliing but a wonder takes thee 
,. To the glorious wouder-land! 



DEATH IS SILENT. 



In this city, while men are brawling in the 
crowded streets, death is entering the secret 
chambers, and friends sit pallid by the couches 
of the breathless, or love is drinking in the sigh 
which bears the soul to heaven. Death is silent, 
those whose weary looks spoke to us in life, 
pass from'ou.i sight as the -hadow from-tliedial, 
and the music of their words befonies sad and 
echoes in the dl^-tciice of ourmeniory Deatli is 
silent. Living hatred thunders in the strife of 
war, but when the contest is over, death, grim 
and Rpcechless, is monarch of the field. Death 
is silent. Tempestif .'shriek madly upon the 
ocean, and many are they who sink with this 
requiem into their fathomless- grave; but from 
the depths of that sublime sepulchre no sound 
comes back to tell of those who perished. Death 
is siJent to the air, but no! always to the heart -^ 
Our brethrpn are s'. ill bound to us, and though 
dead, they have not ceased, to be. There is 
much to be felt and learned where they rest. 

Humility has instructions from the proud 
man's monument, and contentment a lesson from 
the vanity thit overlies his clay. There is p - 
thos in solitude where the stran.;er sleeps; there 
is mute eloquence in his unlettered grave; there 
is beauty in the poor man's epitaph inscribed 
honestly by affection; there is sublimity in t':e 
rude sepulchred of the peasant's tomb, when it 
is an effort to symbolize an iromo-'ql faith. And 
it is such faith which takes tt ror.' onitheyow- 
er of death, and despair from the silence ot the 
rave. That which belongs to earth mu-t go to 
earih, and whi'U earth elaiuis .and g' t back its 
atoms, God ga;hers up and calls home his spirit. 
—Rev. H. GUa. 



DE-W. 

Thi participatitn or form- tion of dew, 
is occa ioned by .he a mosphere's ciicula- 
linj; over a substr-nce colder than itself— 
The phenomenon i-s «naIagous to the for- 
nration of moisture upon' a cup of cold 
water diiiing summer, and is of course 
more abundant when the atmosphere is 
s-.turated with moisture, as before a thun- 
der shower or after rainy weather, than 
any other times. For tiis reason, it is 
formed more copiously in the spring and 
autumn than ill suminer, when the at- 
mo.spheie is dry. Calm andserene weath- 
er is also essential In the formation of dew. 
It may, indeed, fall during cloudy nights, 
but not when a wind prevails. From the 
nature of the dew it will be seen that, be- 
fore it can be deposited upon a substance, 
that substance must become colder than 
the surrounding air. This is a fact, which, 
though only scientifically explained in 
modern times, was known by Herodotus, 
who says in his description of the Croco- 
dile, that this animal passes the night in 
the waters of the Nile, on account of their 
being imrmer than the nocturnal atmos- 
phere and the dew. Cicero and Virgil al- 
so apply to dew the e.xpression gelidus. — 
Siwh being the case, it will be seen that as 
substances differ in their power of losirg 
their temperature they must differ in their 
attractions fur dew. Accordingly it is 
found to be deposited more on vegetables 
ban on dry sand, very little on bright 
matalic surfaces, and none at all on large 
bodies of wafer as the ocean. Swan's 
down and all other subst; nces of a fil i- 
mentous nature, part with iheir hea; rap- 
idly, and never imbibe much dew. Fine 
unwrpught cotton and .silk receive wore 
Jew than wool whose fibres are thicker 
and coarser. The mechanical condition of 
objects likewise affects the f< rmation of 
!ew. as shavings attract itmore than solid 
wool. 

The upper parts of blades of grass re- 
ceive it, by radia.ing their Itmperature in- 
o the regions of empty ^^pace, while the 
oner portions, from the smalli es ( f their 
■ ■unJuciing power, transmit very Uitle of 
he ear h's heat to restore their tempera- 
ture thus given out; consequently, they 
become colder than the surrounding air, 
and, efl'ording a surface for the condensa- 
ion of the atmosphere vapor, become 
moist with dew. 



Beevitt. — The Independent says that one of 
the most estimable and successful ministers in 
"Western New York isdistiiii;uished, amon?- oth- 
er good qualities, for brevity in his pu' i er 
vces, whether prayer, sermons, or addressi s; 
and being complim 'ated on one occasion for hia 
habits, he answered — " 1 suppo.se I have done 
some wicked things in my life. I know I have 
done many foolish things; but I neBer did a hng 
thing." 

DuE.\MS — To dream of a closed fist, indicates 
ihat vou are about to ask afavorfiom an univer- 
sal philanthropist." To see apples in a dream, 
betokens a wedding — because where j-ou. find 
apples, you may reasonably expect to find pears' 
To dream of soap, indicates a'row with your bus. 
band, ia which ;ou may expect to get lathered. 



CLASSIC UNION, 



63 



THE PROGRESS OF LUXURY. 

We take the follovvinjr article from the 
ProviJfcnce Journal. Such discourses are 
gooi figns in secular papers: 

"No one who loves his country can re- 
main indiutrent to die progress of lu.'tury, 
which corrupts the murals and enervates 
the manhood of a ptople which engeji- 
dcr.-i habits of idleness and frivolity, and 
turns even ir.dastry into unprofitable chan- 
nels. Hie progress of luxury has been 
the cause of national decaj- in more than 
one proud empire, and it is not safe (or 
any people to think themselves beyond i s 
inliuence. Ls entrance should be guar led 
against with care, and its progress shoiild 
be watched wiai the most an.\ious vigi- 
lance. Especially ?huuld those whose 
fortunes place them above the necessi y of 
close economy, set the example of sim- 
plicity in their style of life, and manifest 
their profusion in benefac.ions to publie- 
objecs. Not that we would have tlie 
ricii deprive themselves of any of tlu- 
raiional enjoyments which wealth can pur- 
cuase;but we would have them avoid that 
useless and hateful ostentation in dress, in 
equipage, in entertainmenis, which con- 
fei-s no benefit on those who can afford it, 
and which finds so many imitators in those 
who cannot. 

The introduction of hi.\uiious habits, by 
increasing the expense of house keepin^f, 
discourages marriage, and thus leads to a 
long train of imraoralities of the most 
serious character. It breeds envy and 
discomtent, and distroys that union of all 
classes which especirily essential to the 
support of republican institutions. It 
makes wealth supercilious, and poverty 
hostile to the secnriues of property. It is 
an unmixed evil, and iiis tlieliuty of those 
who shape the public policy, of those who 
direet the public morals, and of those who 
influence public sentiment, to discourage 
every departure from the simple manners 
of our fathers. 

If any think that these remarks are ap- 
plicable to this latitude, we ask them to 
mark the change which has taken place in 
our comraumly — not greater perhaps than 
in the community around us — within a 
few years. All the increased comfort, 
may well be a matter of- congratulation; 
the countless inventions for the conve- 
nience of dwellings, for the more heaLh- 
ful use of food, lor the lessened abuse of 
midicine, all those contrivances which 
place within the reach of men of mode- 
rate means the enjoyments which wei-e 
formerly confined to the rich, are sources 
of just congratulation; but all that is de- 
voted to ostentation, to showy furniture, 
and gaudy equipage, to display of plate, 
and to splendor in entertainments, is a I 
matter of serious regret. It is a low or- 
der of enjoyment. It perverts and ex- 
hausts the tastes which would otherwise 
expend themselves in works of art, in 
books, in music, and in things which have 
aharmanizing influence. Alter all, those 
■who indulge in this ostentation on the 
comparatively moderate scale, on which 
alone it is possible for most men, even 
those who are esteemed rich, must re- ■ 



member with constant mortiScailon. that ly deduced f.iom their premises. The Deist, 
they cannot approach the few who, in l.ir- then, c -.finot logically rest in Deism. If 
ger communi ies. and with great r means there be a wi->e andgool Creator, he must 
of folly, leiid the f .^h:on i^i- m itetrs of be .-uppo-ed, in accordance with ihese at- 
thi.skind, _. ■ ' ttibu es, to have furni-hedhs in elligent 

That di-play which has nothing, but erea ure,s wi- h a revel-ition for their guid- 
its-expen'^e to rtpomm^nd i , will be co:i- ance, a-'hei: s lurni.shed instinc.s fortlieir 
stanlly over oppel by . new comraers physic 1 na.ur.-. aiii for the government of 
bringing ftesh accumulations to waste the l.)Wi-r animals. ' And if he has furaish- 
upon die alters- of fashion. The utmost ted Ids revehuioa, where is ii, if notinth© 
limit of fashiomibl-e ex'tr+ivagance in a Bible?- - 

provinciaKtown is not equal to ihe com- , Having -descended to Deism, the Ariaii 
mon display of fotly in New Y'ork, does must, therefore, eiiher turn back to where 
not appro ch the dishabille of Goodwood, he comau-nced or go forward to step num- 
and Blenhiem, and Chatsworlh. And ber four, which is Atheism, and make it 
even t-hese a-i-e put' to shame b)^ tlie co.unt- out that ail the ad-Hpta-tions in nature and 
less retinues, the lavish display, and the providence are the results of mere chance- 
barbitrrc mag«rh'cence' of the Eastern 'no- We need not add that this lo deal conclu- 
blts- ■' - sion of the downward road aflords less foot- 

How foolish then, for the grea'est for- ing to stand -upon, if h;U bejiossible, than 
tunes to at empt any such rivalry here.— any of the-pj-evious tuuu Is of the ladder^ 
A republican pec>ple should be distin- and thiit even a-chil<l might see throuu-h its 
guished by their elegnnt simpHci-y, by absur lity. But we do not think any clear 
their appreciation o the true value of reasoner can avoid such a nii>erable lermi- 
weal.li, and by their knowledge of the true nation, if he once step off the platfjim of 
moJe of life. receiving the testin^ouy of tlve t^cripture 

concerning Christ, in il^ niiuraland obvi- 

THE DOWNWARD LA-DDER. ous sense, vi2^ that h.- is God and man in 

Tho-e who iibandim tlie Or hodox fiiiih two naiures and one pt r.'-on, ihalthi- mys- 
usually commence by what is called Aiiiin- tt-rious ptr-on died a vicarious s;icrih\e for 
iHpi. The fcon oi God Ts, in diis view, 0)-ir .sins, and that if we exercisi. faith on 
higlier than all odier created beings, a-nd this sacrilice. we are saved, not by hi ex- 
only inferior to the uncreated D^i y. But ample or by Ills teaching, how;evcr incal- 
this doc rine atibrds no firm res ing place, cuhibly important die.-e are, but by his 
It does not escape from he mystery of two blood. — Mvuirt-al Witness. 
natures in the person of Christ, unless i'i_be 



affirmed that his appearance and conduct 
as a m-in were a deception. It- does not 
harmonize wi h his assumption of the in- 
communicable attribu es of Dt itv, such as 
creatiiiLT all things judging all :)iin^s, for- 



Tjie Motiikr. — The influence of a moth- 
er is never Tost upon the hard heart cf a 
man. We may be entangled in ihe cures 
of life, ambition may' whisper us onward, 
avarice may urge us to add dollai' to dol- 



giving sins, and peri'orming all mra ulous lar, poetry may pic ure the passion of 
works in ids own n. me. These dilKcul ies lovely woman to our hearts, but the image 
are commonly found to be insurmountable, of our nio.her — it is wi h us ever, in joy, 
and the Arian must take step die second, in hope and in despair. God bless the 
which leads him nto Socinianism.- name of a mother! t^.fie may be dead 

But the Socinian ground is s ill less sat- and burrie^l, her personal appearance may 

isfac oiy. It' Christ be a mere man, then be forgoten, but her s-pirii, is with us. 

his affirmations concerning his previous ex- Widi us in sin, yes, win n ihe wine-cup in- 
istcnce, and tire whole tenor of his leach- vi es or tlie mercenary beau-y profi'ers her 
ing and-conduct, whith was eminently cal- polluted lip, then, aye, then the holy smile 
culated to le-ive and actually did leave the of a mother, our mother dead and in the 
impression that he was a Divine being, grave, yet forever more living in Heaven 
were imposture; and the whole Sacred Re- invites us back to virtue. 

cord must be abandoned to the fate of the . 

mythological books of Greece, Rome or Men of many ideas are apt to want com- 
^f"'i"; nion sense and make many blunders in life. 

This is step number three, or Deism, to not, indeed, because they have many 
which every logical Aiir.n must descend, ideas, but becau.-e they are not always 
unless he retrace his steps to pure Chris- able or willing to keep them in proper a"r- 
tianity. But does Deism, afi'ord any more ray, order or discipline. A mind of hi"h 
stable resting plase ? Assuredly not. It imaginative cast and stored with senti- 
presentsthe spectacle of a race of rational timents without care and prudence to mar- 
beings, created by an -all-wise and benefi- .-hal, direct and regulate them, is like a 
cent God, but left b^ him without any reve- large undisciplined army without officers 
lation of his will, ordirection to guide their to conduct it. 

steps. They must stumble about in the : . 

dark, without any rule or standhi d of right a Clekgical Bi.txraK —A clergyman hi Xew 
or wrong, good or evil ! This most mons- burypoit, having Imd a notice for a lecture li.an- 
trous supposition, which is by some called "^^'^ '"'"' ^'l'i>^h was cut from a newpaper, iinfor- 
the perfection of reason, must by any sound H;!r,'''-yi^?„'i '\ ^■™''g ^ife of the paper-«or 
•^ , . , , . -^ • , '^'" "^ discover Ins mistake till he had gone 

reasoner, tie considered its very antipodes; through an entire advertisements of a clothing 
as indeed it is a striking fact that the more store m that town. It all happened well, how- 
obtrusive the claim the various systems of ''^''"' ^^ '^" parson advertising was a member of 

error lay to rationality, the more irrational IV^f'ff!.^;- ''°'^r^'''''^l'f'''!^ '','i°"^^,'iL'"f ^'l 
, , •' J , - ' . , . . siness aftairs more directly to the notice of the 

ana absurd are the conclusions legitimate- brothers and sisters. 



04 



CLASSIC UNIONS 



OBITURARY. 

KEV. BEKIAMIN F.-F.UIXSWORTH. 



Died near Lexington, Kentucky, rfn ^ed^ 
nesday, June the 4tli,- rev. benjamin .r F.yjNS- 
^voETu, the first Jrcsideut-of- UniGHvUuiversity> 
Tennessee. - . . • - . 

Brother Farnsworth was a graduate of Dart- 
moulh CoUege, New Hamspirc. E.xpecting to 
enter the ministry of- the Gospel, ho.spent some 
timeiu the fan.ily of -Rev. Edward Paysoa,. ot 
Portsmouth, Maine. .During this jiiriod, his-at, 
teriti.on was specially called to the subject of 
baptism, -and he- becarac.ccnvinced that bel.ever-s. 
in' Christ are the oply pro^.er snbjects of die or- 
dinance, and that immer,siBnDnly is baptism.^ 
In accordance with these GonvicciMS. --he pre, 
sented himself to tlie'B#tist. Cluirdi in Port- 
land, and having related his religious experi- 
ence, he was received, as a.candidaLteior the .sa- 
cred rite. He was baptised.intbe-yeatlSlB, by 
Rev. William ColUer,.-- •- ■ ' • 

Subsequently, brother -Farnsworth received 
ordination in-Edenton, North-Carolina, Jind be- 
came I think, pastor, of the Baptist Chtu-ch. 
there.- His continuance at the South was short. 
He removed to. New England— and without re- 
linquishing the ministry, he occupied himself 
principally in teaching the young; for which 
Lsiness heseems'tolhave had a specitit aptitude. 
His life was heneeforth nlaiiily devoted to th,is 
service. ■ 

There was however a brief suspension of these 
- labors, and he was occupied for a time in editing 
the -Christian Watchman." Retiring from 
this service, hebecl^me the Principal of a Senii- 
iiary in ^"ew Hampton, New Hampshire. " The 
plan of the Institution was enlarged. Arrange- 
ments were made for instructions 'in Theology 
There was an increase of teachers-the school 
became more fully identified with the Baptist 
denomination in the States. The New Hamp. 
ton Literary and Theological Institution pro.?- 
perod. God'sblessing seemed evidently '.ores, 
upon it Some of . its pupils gave themselves 
there to the Lord; others, who resorted to. the 
school, having the Gospel ministry m view, or 
havin- already, entered upon the work., were 
encouraged and helped onward in iheir course, 
some of whom have been- called to important 
stations in the Church of Christ. ' j 

I -am not able to state the number of years, 
brother Farnsworth continued in New H-amp- , 
ton nor for how long a period he was occupied) 
asPrincipal of the Arcade Ladies' Institute lu | 
Providence, R. I. lu 1836, he come to theWest, - 
having been appointed Presidontof Georgetown, 
College, Kentucky. 

His connection with the College proved far 
otherwisethanpleasantto him, and was Hoon 
dissolved. He repaired to Louisville, and was. 
occupied there for some time in educational ef- 
forts In 1840, he visited Tennessee,- and be- 
come associated with brother Howell ai.d other- ^ 
in the enterprise of founding the Union Lni- 
vcrsity. 

His long ^acquaintance with institutions of 
learning and witt vai'ious points pertaining to 
* their establishment, progress and course, the 
government requisite to be maintained, and the 
order of studies to be pursued, prepared hira to 
render valuable service in this undeitakmg.- 
He was appointed President of the University. 
He entered with ardor upon tke work before 



him. Apian in conformity to his views was 
procured for the University Edifice, for the erec- 
tion of which,:funds to a very handsome amount 
were obtained. He drew op the form of the 
University Charter. By his agency, brother 
Eatoji; .and Smith •w;ere procured to be PfofiSssorfe 
in -.tliis new Institution, and the preparatory 
dej)artment coinmenced, > . • 

-s » ■«"•■:-'-'*■-;'« *■«'-* 

. "But the health of ouVbi-qther..failed: and the 
divine will seemed to be, that thi.s- .-great work 
Jhoi\ld pass iut.o other liands.. How.iar his in-, 
fluenceand exertions contributed -to give .im- 
pulse anda-right directioi.ito this uiidetta-king, 
we mav not be able to say— nor is it important. 
If a go'od design succeeds,.' it mattep„little. to 
know'the precise share Avhich- one dndividu.Sl or 
another has had in '.effeettng' the result. It.ig 
God. that gives success. :',' Except the Lord 
build the house, they 'labor in vain tliafWd 
it;" %o him *'e ascribe, the elcv,ation which the 
College has already attained. To him we look 
for its continued pro.sperity and increased use- 
fulness. Let u^ not bo high-minded, but fear. 

[Ou« feature in this cherished Institution coiS 
mend's it especially to.the prayers and the co- 
operation of good men; to w[t;,the ijrovision 
made for the gratutitous instructing of young 
men, called of -God to the work of the Gospel 
niinislry. Already quite a unmber of young 
men of talents and piety have availed them- 
selves of this .provision ; and the "churches are 
'even noV beginning to reap the fruits. This 
feature of the' Institution originated, I think, 
with brother Farnsworth.] 

On leaving Murfreesboro', our brother spent 
smne fewi-years in Memphis; still occupied, amid 
increasing infirmities, in educational plans and 
efforts. In 184G he retired to the vicinity of 
Lexingtoiii Leutucky; and here, where dwell his 
only daughter, his son-in-law, P. H. Thomson, 
and their .children, he continued experiencing 
I the assiduous attentions of his faithful wife, 
t through the months of disease, both physical 
{'andmental, which. were appointed to him. At 
length the liour of- his release arrived. His suf- 
I foringS."— -n-rites his son Thomas,— '"had. -been 
! so poignant and excruciating, especially during 
1 the last few months of- his life, that it could not 
but be-a relief to us rail, that the change should 
'be made for him from- earth to heaven. "I am 
: going home,' he said," a short time before his 
\ death, 'mv ho-iiie is in heaven.' " 

His fuiieral "sermon was preached -by Presi- 
dent Reynolds, of Geoi-getown College. .Rev. 
2.10: ""Be thou faithVul unto death, and I will 
give thee a cibwB of life." " T. B. R. 



PROCRASTINATION.— BY gdas. m.\ck.it. 

If fortune with a smiling fae.o 
Strews roses on your wav. 
When shall we stoop to pick tliem up? 
. To-day, my l.ove,.to-.clay. 
But should -she fr'ow-u with face of care, 
■ And talk of comtiig sorrow', ■ 
When sjiall we,grieve,.if_grievawe must? 
To-iiiorrp-w, love, to-moi'ro\S'. . 

If those -wiio've, WTonged-us o^yn their faults, 
'■ Andfciridly i:fity pi-ay; ■" ' ' 
WJicn- shall we lisleii luidforgive, . 
■ To-day, my love, to-day.-.. ._ ; 
But if stern justice urgcrebuke. 

And waru'ith from niefnory borrow, 
When shall we chide, if chide we dare ? 
■ To-morrow, iove, to morrow. - 

If. those- to whpm-weowe a debt- 

Are.lrarmed unless we pay, 
•"When shall we strug,gle-tobe just? 

"To-dav, my love, to-day. 
But if our debtor fail our hope. 

And plead his ruin thorough. 
When sliall we weigh his breach of faith ? 

To-morrow, love, to-morrow. 

If love, estranged, should once again 

• Her genial smiles display, 

When shall we kiss her proffered lips ? 

To-day, my love, to-day. 
But if she would indulge regret, 

Or dwell with by-gone sorrow. 
When shall we weep, if weep we must? 

To-morrow, love, to-morrow. 

For virtuous acts and hannless joys. 

The minutes will'not stay; 
We've always time to welcome them 

To-day, my love, to-day. 
But care", resentment, angry words. 

And unavailing sorrow. 
Come far too soon if they appear 

To-morrow, love, to-inorrow. 



Markied.— On the evening of the 28th ult., 
by the Rev Wm. Eaglcton, Mr. John M. Dow- 
ling, to Miss M.UIY W'. Smith— all of this city. 



JORDAN & "WEIGHT, 

DRY GOODS aiERCHANTS, 

Soulli Side PMt»lie Sauare, 

4-y MURFREESBOROUGH, TENN. 



D. W. TAYLOR, 

Book an?> Sob Jpvtuter, 

South-.vest Comer Public Square, 

4-y MURFREESBOROUGH, TENN. 



Wilson' y. joxes. 



JAJTES M. PEAK. 



We see the following ^'goiifg" the rounds'' 
among our -ejcciiangsjs, the author of which 
should be known:— -'Every man can be really 
great if he will only tru.st his own instinct, think 
his own thoughts, and say his own say, The 
most stupid fellow, if he would but reveal with 
child-like honesty how he feels and how he 
thinks, when the stars -wink at him, when he sees 
the ocean forthe first time, when music comes 
over the waters, as when he and his beloved 
look into each others eyes,— would he but reveal 
tliis, the world would hail him as a genius in 
I his way, and would prefer his story to all the 
I epics that have Tjeen written from Homer to 
j Scolt," ' 



JONES & PEAK, 

WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALERS 

In Sugar, Coffee, Molasses, Flour, 

SALT, IRON CASTINGS, WARES AND 

Mci-cliaBidize Generally, 

EAST SIDE PUBLIC SQUARE, 
Murfreesboroagh, Tenn. 

Medicine and Dental Surgery 
Dr. E. D. WHEELER, 

Office, West Side of the Public Square, 
"jal-ly MurvFEEESCoKouGE, Tenn. 

^ TE.KMS: 

The Cl\ssio Union will be publi.shed on the 
first and fifteenth of.each month, at O.ne DoL- 
LAii per year, -invariably in advance. Address 
M. HiLisMAN, post paid. 

Printed by D. W. TAYLOR, at the office of 
the Rv-therjord Tclearaoh, South-west Corner of 
Iho Svjuju-6. 





^y^ 



DTiVOTED TO RELIGION, LITERATURE, AND GEXERAL INTELLIGENCE. 



VOL. I. 



MURFREESBOEOUGH, NOVEi'IBER 15, 1851. 



NO. 5. 



THE MEANS OF PERMANENCY IN AMER- 
ICAN COLLEGES. 

AX EXTK.^CT FROM THE IXAUGCEAL ADDKESS OK PKOF.. 
BHELTOS. 

I have mentioned an adequate pecuni- 
ary basis, and a proper course of study, 
being necessary to the stabihty of Ameri- 
can Colleges. I now say that, though no 
school can be permanent without these 
two things, yet they alone are not suffi- 
cient. One thing, besides, is needed; and 
that one thing is the conservative influ- 
ence of Reliyion. There is so close an 
analogy between the training of the. in- 
tellect, and the moral faculties of man's 
nature, that Colleges are almost necesr 
sarily, ,seats of Religion, as well as of 
Science. They always have been religious 
institutions. Various attempts have been 
na\de in our country to scjjarate them from 
the influence of Christianity and, in every 
instance, they have failed. 

It is well known that Thomas Jefierson, 
the founder of Virginia Unitersity, was 
somewhat skeptical in his religious opin- 
ions. In the first projection of that school, 
the inflence of religion and religious men 
was carefully excluded. But the expe- 
rience of a few years convinced its founder 
that, without the conservative power of 
Christianity, it could not live. Thro^ving 
few restraints around its students, they 
became immoral, and the numbei rapidly 
diminished. A new principle was there- 
fore adopted by its governors. Religious 
men were placed in the professorships, 
who diffused a Christian influence around 
them, and introduced a new pi-ihciple 
into its constitution. From' that time it 
seems to have been based on a firm foun- 
dation, and has continued to widen its in- 
fluence and expand its power. 

Some fifteen years ago, or upwards, the 
attempt was made by the worlJ-renowned 
Gerard to erect, in the city of Philadel- 
phia, a college in which there should be 
no Religion. Millions of dollars were 
placed la the hands of the iJgects who 



were appointed "to carry .out the pJap. — 
They erected such a buihling. as the 
American continent never'before had sqen.. 
They chose'professors, suclras they could 
find throughout thfr nation, — men of , no 
religion. They called together students 
from all parts of the country, and com- 
menced. But what is Gerard College 
now ? "It is weighed in the balance and 
found wanting.'' ' The proud edifice is 
there, propped up by a hundred pillars; 
and, as it stands conspicuous from the feiir 
city of Philadelphia, the admiratioii of 
every beholder, it seems firm enough to 
defy the shocks of lime. But the college 
IS KOT. It gave not God the glory., and 
God destroyed it. He permitted only the 
magnificent edifice to remain, as ,a 'ibonii- 
ment of the foliv of those who forget this 
tru:h, — Thai no College can live wi'Jloat 
Religion. 

That a college which has no rehgioii 
should die, is one of the laws of nature. 
Ho^vever rich in wealth, however rich in 
Worldly knowledge, if it have not the 
knowledge of God, it must perish. The 
reason of this is so obvious that it scarcely 
needs to be stated. YoTlng men, without 
the reslrainsts of religion, cannot be go^'- 
erned. No laws, however good; no dis- 
cipline, unless sanctioned and sustained by 
the influence of Christianity, can keep 
them in the path of duty. An institution 
whose professors do not respect religion, 
and whose students are tau ht to keep the 
thoughts of God from their minds, must 
necessarily be a corrupt and corrupting 
body.. Its students are under.no res.jaints; 
the public sentiment of the mass bears- 
even those who be virtuous, along with- 
the current. As a natural consequence, 
their studies are neglected, the standard 
of learning is depreciated, the honor of 
the institution is lost, and that which was 
designed to be a school for training men 
to benefit the world, and do honor to their 
race, has become a nursery of vice, re- 
cei'i'ing, frcto the bosom of pareats, (heir 



■sons, whom a thousand anxious prayers 
h:ve followed, only that they may be iui- 
iated into the -knowledge of evil, and 
sent out into the world to curse and des- 
troy mankind. Of how many a once 
promi.-ing seat of learning has this been 
the sad c itastrophe ! Near these rocks 
have wrecked, — how many a school that 
once bade ftiir for a career of glory ! 

The stability of colleges is proportion- 
ate to the religious element within them- 
Princeton, and Yale, and Brown, have 
alwavs been prosperous, because .such men 
.IS Wayland, an:l Dwight; and Edwards, 
and Ale.xandcr, have been connected with 
them, — men of God, who diffused around 
ihem the saving influence of religion. A 
college which has christian teachers, and 
a large number of chris'.ian students, pos- 
sesses a public sentiment in fax or of piety, 
which is shai-ed by those who are not re 
ligious, and restrains, in the path of vir- 
tue, even those who would be vicious if 
placed in other circumstances. The school 
thus becomes a nursery of virtue as well 
as learning: and its graduates, thoroughly 
equipped for the battle of ■hfe,.go out into 
the wo.ild, carrying with them, and re- 
flec'.ing upon oLl)ers, the light of science 
f.nd religion, which was gathered in the 
college. 

It is a well known fact that those schools 
which are under the control of some re- 
ligious Deuomina'ion are generally more 
prosperous than other institutions. And 
herein may be found the cause of this fact; 
— that there is. gencnilly a stronger Chris- 
tian influcRce within them than in those 
schools which are responsible only to the 
State or to society at large. Their pi-o- 
fessors are almost universally religious 
men, and a large number of students for 
the ministry usually attend them. There 
is thus created a public teniraent in favor 
of religion that gives a rttinement and 
beauty and symmetry to the character of 
the Co'lege, wliich under ditfereut circuDi- 
stantfefe it coMld not .possess. 



66 



CLASSIC UNION. 



There has been, however, one very se- 
rious obstricle in the way of the advance- 
ment of Colleges under the control of re- 
ligious bodies, which has prevented their 
being as successful as they otherwise 
mi'j-ht have been. It is their secfarianisru,. 
It is that spirit which would bring religion 
down from her lofty sphere in the heav- 
ens, and confine her in the nutshell of a 
party's creed. This kind of religion may 
do for other places, but not for the College. 
It should be as large and free as the uni- 
verse, and as broad as the pages of eter- 
nal truth, unshackled by the fetters of any 
party. Her glorious forna, like the forrn 
of an angel, should be- left to remain as 
she was'wh-en she came down from h,eav- 



of the public mind, its fondness for novel- 
ty, andthe muliiplicatiou of other schools 
around those which have failed. I have 
no hesitancy in saying that no College 
ever failed fi-om these causes. Our'people 
are, not, so fickle and fond of novelty that 
they will not patronize that which is wor- 
thy of theirpatronage. They have never 
been known to forsake excellence wherev- 
er it may have been found. ■ Colleges, so 
'ong as they have been iiseful, have re- 
ceived their liberal- support. But when 
they have either deteriorated tlie, standard 
of learning, or become schools of vice, 
instead of being the nurseries of religion, 
they have always, been forsaken by the 
people. It'is true our citizens may, for a 



ei>, none of her beauties marred by the ' time, be led away by the chicanery of dem- 
touch of man, none of the symmetry ofjagogues, and be induced to leave that 
her stature distorted by his hand. Such which is good, for the more unworthy 



is the religion for our Colleges. A secta- 
rian school, a school that teaches sectari- 
an Greek and Latin and Mathematics, a 
school that has a Creed and Confession 
of .Faith, which all its, members must sub- 
scrrbeto: — save us from -such a school as 
this ! Giv6 us, rather, in its stead, a 
Christian school, a school that has no creed 
to trammel its powers, a school, based 
upon,tlie-broad platform of the eternal 
truth of God, and rearing its majestic 
walk to heaven to attract the admiration 
of the world. A College should subscribe 
to the creed c^f no man or set of men on 
earth. Disclaiming the epitliet sectarian, 
it, should vow allegiance to the dogmas of 
no human sect. 

■ Religion ought to know no- party on 
earth. She is dishonored by such cocnex- 
io.i. She breathes the atmosphere of 
heaven. Celestial glory beams around 
her brow. Let her ever remain what God 
has made her. Let her walk through our 
Colleges, dwell in their midst, scatter the 
li-rht of heaventhrough their inmates; and 
palsied be the arm that would i-ise to tar- 
nish her glory, or mar her beau'y, or dis- 
tort her symmetry, by.endeavorhigto con- 
fine her in the iron cage of any human 
creed. Happy ! thrice happy, my coun- 
try I — blessed, beyond all that hope could 
dream of, would be her destiny, were all 
her Colleges thus pervaded by the spirit 
of Religion. 

I hivethu? mentioned the three things 
which are the elements of stability in 
American Colleges. Without them a Col- 
)e 'e cannot be successful and with them 
ft College cannot fail. 

I am aware that the overthrow of 
pchools in our country has boon assiu'ned 



but, in the end, they always return to the 
prrmanent patronage of the useful and the 
good. The firm and unbiased sentiment 
of the mass of the people is almost always 
right. 

Nor can the rise of other Colleges be 
assigned as the reason of the, downfall of 
one. If the one is entirely worthy of pub- 
lic confidence the others will not exist. — ■ 
Colleges, like every thing else, are made 
to satisfy the wants of ' the people; and 
the supply, as in other things, is propor- 
tionate to the demand. If the one College 
satisfies that demand there will be noneed 
of the others, and hence they will never 
exist. . The multiplication of schools, 
therefore, around another seat of learning, 
instead of being the reason of its down- 
fall, is only the proof that it is not what it 
ought to be. 

The cause of the failure of Colleges is 
always found in themselves, and neither in 
tbe fickleness of the people, nor in the rise 
of other schools; and, when traced back 
to its source, it will be found to spring 
either from a want of money, a want of. a 
suitable course of study, or a want of reli- 
glous vnjiutnce. 

The c[uestion then arises, by what 
means can these three things be secured 



streams of salvation. They should also 
guard against every influence which would 
tarnish the pure spirit of religion among 
them. The bland voice of temptation 
should not be permitted to plead in their 
ears; and those among them, who may 
exert an injurious influence on the morals 
and religion of others, ought to be sent 
away, lest the contagion of their evil ex- 
ample should lead others astray. Thus 
may the religious influence of a College 
be securely guarded. 

To secure a thorough and suitable 
course of instruction the Trustees must ap- 
point men of thorough levirning to fill the 
various professorships in the College. — 
Each Professor, of course, should be mas- 
ter of his own department. He ought al- 
so to be a man of general knowledge, lest, 
not seeing the true relation of different 
parts of science, he should extol his own 
department to the neglect of others, and 
thus destroy the symmetry of an education. 

The whole attention and all the talents 
of every Professor should be employed for 
the College. One raason why our insti- 
tutions of learning have not been perma- 
nent is because, their teachers have felt 
and manifested too little interest in their 
prosperity. For the first few years after 
the commencement of a school and the in- 
auguration of new Professors, they gen- 
erally apply themselves to the mastering of 
their various departments, and feel a deep 
interest in the prosperity of the College. — 
And while this continues the school pros- 
pers. But soon mastering their various 
branches of study, — i. c. the text books 
which they use, they begin to relax their 
efforts and lose their interest in the school. 
Those among them who are men of ener- 
o-y direct their minds to other employ- 
ments, since they suppose the duties of 
the College are not sufl5oient to engage all 
their thoughts; while others fall into hab- 
its of idleness and inactivity. Some be- 
came farmers, and some merchants, and 
some temperance lecturers, while many 
others become book-makei-s and scribblers 
for newspapers. Each of these various 



To ^ain a permanent religious influence callings they endeavor to pursue in con 



in a College, its Trustees must appoint re 
lioiousmen to be its teachers, — men in 
whose-daily walk can be seen a living il- 
lustration of every Christian virtue.— 
These Professors must guard the religious 
interest of the school with the most watch- 
ful assiduity, 'i'hey must strive to create 
and to maintain a public sentiment in favor 
of religion. While directing the minds 
of students to the fountains of human 



tiy other oau**ee,-T,such as the fickleness' 'Vence, they ahwild lead their Eoulsto the 



nexion with their duties to the College, 
and, by dividing their energies between 
two objects, succeed well at neither. This 
is one great evil under which most of the 
Colleges of our country are laboring, and 
which has been the cause of the downfall 
of many, — the want of zeal, on the part 
of their Professors, for their prosperity. 
The cause of this is doubtless, found in the 
fact that teachers in a College hav^ fewer 
inducements, to fidelity than any other 



CliASSIC U.N I ON, 



«7 



class of men. A Professor is not placed 
tinder the same incentives to exertion as 
other men. He is put into the profession- 
al chair, and, whether he be efficient or 
not, all the students who are candidates 
for graduation are required to attend his 
recitations. Whether he be a good teach- 
er or a bad teacher, the number of his pu- 
pils is the same, his professional character 
is the same, and his salary is the same.- — 
Let him be ever so efficient, he adds no- 
thing to his emolument: let him be ever so 
remiss, he takes nothing from it. If by 
his unwearied labor he gains for himself 
a high reputation as a teacher, and, for 
the College, a large number of students, 
he reaps no profit for himself. Such a 
state of things is entirely contrary to the 
usual motives by which men are influ- 
enced. Persons, in all other professions, 
expect to receive an increase of their in- 
come by that application and energy which 
gives them efficiency and reputation. 

The same incentive to exertion ought to 
be held out to teachers in Colleges. — 
Their salary ought to be made dependent 
on their efficiency and worth. If their 
ability makes them worthy of large sala- 
ries, they ought to receive it; and, if their 
indolence and inefficiency make them wor- 
thy of a small one, they ought by all 
means, to have it. 

The only practical manner in which 
this can be done, is to adopt the plan pur- 
sued by Virginia University and Brown 
University, and the Universities of Ger- 
many and England, and which commends 
itself immediately to the common sense of 
every man; — that is, to make the size of 
Professors' salaries dependent on tuition 
fees. In the University of Virginia the 
salary of the Professors is $1000, each, 
and the tuition fees. The $1000 makes 
them independent, and the tuition fees 
causes them to feel a personal interest in 
the prosperity of the school. If they ren- 
der themselves worthy of public confi- 
dence and secure a large number of stu- 
dents, they reap the benefit. And if, on 
the other hand, they become remiss in the 
discharge of their duties, they will be the 
first to feel the effects thereof in the dimin- 
ished emoluments of their office. 

A plan similar to this ought to be adop- 
ted in every College. It commends itself 
to the sound reason 9f every man, as be- 
ing the best plan in the world to incite 
Professors to that fidelity and zeal, with 
which they ought always to discharge the 
work wherein they are engaged. The in- 
come, of teachers will then be dependent 
oa their professional diligence and ability. 



Their interest will induce them to exert 
all their energies that they ma}' deserve 
and receive the patronage . of the people. 
Let such a plan •d's thi§ be adopted in aii 
institution of learning:- it will possess all 
the vigor of a private school with 'all the 
dignity of a College'.. It never can be- 
come insolvent. Its annual income will al-' 
ways be sufficient, to -meet its annual exr 
penses. It will become a self-supporting 
institution, based on a sure foundation. 

The amount of money which is neces- 
sary to sustain a College is raised*in a va- 
riety of ways, — s'ometimes by the liberal- 
ity of an individual ; at other times, by 
the grant of land and ether property by 
the General Government, and still in other 
cases, by appropria1,ions of money from 
the State Legislatures. Very often, how- 
ever, the requisite amount is furnished 
by the contributions of a large number of 
individuals. It makes but little difference 
in what manner the money is made up, 
but no college can exist without it. The 
friends of Union University, if they would 
hope for ultimate success, must set them- 
selves to work to secure a capital sufficient 
to sustain it. Heretofore they have acted 
nobly. Liberal he-arts and hands have 
felt and labored for its welfare. It is jiow 
worth in money and property about $.60,- 
000. But this is not enough to sustain it. 
The miiii/ni/m is $100,000. The remain- 
der must be secured. If the State will 
give it, or lend it, to be repaid in the gra- 
tuitous education of her indigent sons, 
she will have done a noble deed. If a 
wealthy individual who loves the cause 
of learning and education will give it, it 
will be well, and he will receive the grati- 
tude of a thousand hearts. But if it can 
be secured in no other way, it must be 
begg'ed from house to house. Its agents 
mast go through the land. The. teachers 
during their vacations of study, and the 
Trustees, and all the friends of the school 
must consider themselves self-appointed 
and self-sustained agents, and, wherever 
they go, must present to the people the 
claims of the University, and bring into 
it treasury the offerings of the people to 
the cause of Learning and Religion. 

We want to rear here a University that 
is worthy of the name. We want to lay 
its foundations broad and deep. We want 
to fill this little cit}- with hundreds of no- 
ble youths who are eagerly traveling the 
road of knowledge. We want a dozen 
professorships, all amply sustained and 
tilled by the best men the nation can af- 
ford. We want a Library of twenty thou- 
sand uolumes to spread over tl,is com- 



ftiunity and the College its enlightining 
influence. We want a Cabinet of National 
History, a Phylosophical Aparatus, an 
Astranornical Obsei'vatory: and tone of- 
thes^ things can ■ be secured without 
monej. But Lhave uo doubt the money 
will be found. God's providential gov- 
ernment is such that every thing is pro- 
vided as it is neded.. The friends of Vir- 
ture "and Science will rally around thii 
infant seat of learning and aid in its pro- 
gress and perfection. They will love »nd 
cherish an institution of iheirown, ereeted 
by their OTvn beneficience and susta'ned by 
■iheir own patronage. The enlightened 
and the liberal will pour into its treasury 
tjbeir offerings to Science, and eren th» 
purse-strings of the covetous will b« 
loosened. 



Hired to keep the Sabbath. — An em- 
inent minister in Wales, hearing of a 
neighbor who followed his calling on the 
Lord's day, went and asked him why he 
broke the Sabbath. The man replied that 
he was driven to i', by finding it hard 
work to maintain his family. "Will you 
attend public worship," said Mr. P., "if 
I pay you a week day''s wages ?" " Yes, 
most gladly," said the poor man. He at- 
tended constantly and received his pay. 
After some tin:e, lis. P. forgot to ^end 
the money; and recollecting it, called up- 
on the man and said, " I am in your debt." 
"Ko, sir," be replied, "you are not." — 
"How, so," said Mr. P.; "I have not 
paid you of late." " True," answered 
the man, " but Leah now trust God; for I 
have found that he can bless the work of 
sis days for the support of my family, 
just the same as seVen." Ever after .hat, 
he strictly kept the Sabbath, and found 
that in keeping God's commands there is 
not only r.o'oss, but great reward. 



One of those country editors wlio 'print 
for glory and live on trust,' earnestly en- 
treats his delinquent subscribers to deci- 
pher the following puzzle and follow the 
precept which it cortiins; eetmup eiit 

YAP. 



Aroi-eological Discovekv. — Baron 
Alexander de Humbolt has, says a Berlin 
journ 1 announcid die discovery at Athens 
of the edefice in which the Council of 
Four Hundred was accustomed to asptm- 
ble. Upwards of one hundred inscriptions 
have already been brought to liglit, es 
well as a number of columns, statues, &c. 

Piemember (he Sabbsth day and keep 
it holy. Bead jour bible and speak nu 
evil ot vour Qeiijlibor. 



m 



CLASSIC UKIOK. 



THE IMPROPER USE OF THE TOXGUE. 

A Sernimi pveaclied h-Aura Jlufcle-Slioal Assoc'!- 
atioii, by D. Ekeidenthal. P-ubli^lje'd by re- 
quest. 

" Keep thy Tongue from evjl." Psalm "4: 13. 

is it not, my bretlu'eii,": a lasientable 
fact, an J one which- is frequently brought 
to our notice thsit those' -things, which 
providence designed as blessings, are of- 
ten by the waywardness of- man, coiivex' 
ted into curses ?• The very endowment^, 
the bestowraentof wbieh argues the good- 
ness of God, are so perverted and abused, 
as to be rendered the instrunaentsof inju- 
ry and evil. From the siime' flower the 
Bee extracts honey and the Serpent poison. 
The metal that gives value and durubiliry 
to your Rail Roads, that enchains the 
■wild lightning, and brings it harmless and 
captive at your doors, is converged into a 
deadly weapon, and in. the hands of the 
assasjin, deals death to the innocent and 
un weary. The harvest which crowns 
your fields for the wliolesome necessaries 
of man and beast, is by the still coiiveriej 
into a liquid death, ta burn' up the 
atrength and innocence and liapjnness of 
man. It is thiis with tlie members of the 
body. The hand endowed with a capaci- 
ty to minister to human want, and protect 
the innocent, IS oftentimes clairhed in un- 
hallowed rage once imbued in our brother's 
blood. The feet given us to walk in the 
■way of obedience and uprightness, run~ 
heedlessly iato transgressian and are swift 
to do mischief. And ' it is thus \viih the 
tongue.. No physical agent ■which God 
has given us, is capable of greater good or 
greater evil; none is capable of a more ex- 
tensive influence for weal or woe, than the 
tongue. It has a.wed Senates and con- 
vulsed Nations. It has rendered glad- 
some the hour of sadness and solitude, 
and awaked animation and -energy in the 
bosom of the despairing. Its ar'ticulaiioas 
havo sent, daggers to the home of a-fiec- 
tion, and refrtshing dew-drops upon blight- 
ed feeling. Its' notes ha.ve wrung sighs 
• from the gay, and hilarity from the mourn- 
ful. By its slightest motion, kings have 
trembled, sages have wept, and hearts 
have broken. " Therewith bless we God, 
even the Father; and there^with curse wh 
men ■which are made after^ the similitude 
of God. Out of the same mouth proceed- 
eth blessing and cursing." 

It is our purpose, in the present dis- 
course to consider tlie improper use of the 
Tongue, and may our Heavenly Father 
to direct and assist our meditations, as 
that we shall evermore regard the divine 
injunction, — " Keep thy tongue from evil." 



There is such a thing as a too constant 
use.df tlie tongue;' and such a use becomes 
an abs'olu'e a'buse. -Thej'e is such a thing 
as t:;]king too much; and in that case, 
though the subject" and tnatter ma'y not 
be speoia-Tly objectionable in themselves, 
-yet bccatise of excessive and indiscrirain- 
a e garrulilj", there is manifest improprie- 
ty, if- not posative ■\vrong.- It is true, a 
fall-apd free inlercl.ange and expression of 
sentiment, in social conversation, may not 
only be innocent, but be productive of last- 
iiig good, ill cementing tlie ties of friend- 
ship and cultivating those social faculties, 
with which God has endowed us. Indeed 
why rnay not reasons of social intercourse, 
be made the means of permanent reli- 
gious profit? Why may not on such oc- 
casions, the tru-hs of Christian experience 
which ever_v disciple carries- in his bosom, 
as well as the truths of the Gospel genej- 
ally, be mutually presented with a famil- 
iarity and force corresponding with the 
favorableness of the opportunity? Why 
should every subject of social and nation- 
al importance pass u'nder review, ■while 
those subjects "whicK are, of all others, 
most important, which are, in fact, of eter- 
nal importance, are passed in silence ? — 
Not against this; then, ■would we be un- 
derstood to declaim. We long to see the 
day, when no parlor in the land, ■will be 
deemed too costly and elegant, to intro- 
duce in it those themes ■which will be the 
ubjects of perpetual contemplation, in 
those Heaven-wrought courts at God's 
right hand. But vrhat ■we urge is, that 
incessant talkativeness gives room for evil. 
Some tilings cannot be mentioned under 
any circum-stances without harm; other 
things cannot be mentioned under certain 
circumstances without injury. , And such 
things as these are even liable to escape 
from the tongue ■which is perpetually in 
motion, which thoughtlessly and heedless- 
ly touches every subject that it meets'. — 
There are times when it is as much our du- 
ty to be silent, as it i-, at other times, our 
duty to speak; and to speak when ■we 
should be silent, is as truly wrong, as to 
be silent when one should speak. If any 
man oa'end not in word, the same is a per- 
fect man." The Physiologist assures us 
that the agents of the body require rest, 
and that by incessant exercise they -would 
wear out; but it really seems that the 
tongue is an exception to this general law; 
for some tongues are ever going and never 
grow ■weary. As constant are they in their 
motion, as the busy machinery of a vast 
Factory, and as rattling and clatteiing as 
that machinery with scre^ws loos« aad 



cogs broken. The tongue is fortified both 
by the lips and the teeth, a circumstance 
that should admonish us that the tongue 
in its utterings should be circumscribed 
within proper limits. Moses, for the ut- 
terance of one thoughtless -word, was for- 
ever debarred from entrance into the earth- 
ly Canaan. Aaron never appeared so full 
of goodness and godliness, as when stand- 
ing before the altar, and beholding his 
sons prostrate and lifeless upon the turf, 
stricken down under the judgement of 
God, he ■was silent. " And Aaron held 
his peace." The Bible never complains 
that men do not speak, but it does com- 
plain in the language of the profoundest 
astonishment, that men do not consider. — 
Hear, Heavens, and give ear, Earth, 
— the ox knoweth his owner, and the ass 
his master's crib, but Israel dolh notkno^w 
my people doth not consider." That is, if 
you wdll allow such a paraphrase, the ox, 
as dull and mopish as he is, can low, and 
the ass the most stupid of all beasts, can 
bray, but mind, wisdom and good sense 
alone can consider ! 

The tongue is improperly used in exccs- 
sivejestinff and ridicule. Of all persons in 
the world, the christian has the best 
ground for cheerfulness; and a man's re- 
ligion is by no means, measured by the 
face he wears. It would be assuming- 
quite too much, be altogether too austere, 
to say that every jest is in itself sinful; it 
may however be carried so far as to be- 
come an evil. 

The relations which we sustain to God 
and the race of which we form a part, the 
circumstances in which we ai-e placed,' as 
well as the destiny which awaits us, are 
all too solemn,, in value, too important is- 
sues to admit of a constant round of levi- 
ty. W^e have throbbing in our bosoms 
immortal elements; we carry around with 
us, souls undying, and the day is coming 
apace, wlien these souls will be welcomed 
into everlasting security and happiness, or 
be doomed to endless ages of wrath and 
anguish. Such, moreover, is thedtmand 
of the grave upon our species, that during 
the very moment in which the jest is curl- 
ing our lips, one or more, of our brothers 
are summoned to the land of darkness or 
everlasting day. During that very mo- 
ment, too, from many a bed of anguish 
arises the fruitless cry of pain, from many 
a bereaved and desolate bosom issues the 
hollow wail of sundered friendship and af- 
fection. He who saw our condition as 
mortal never saw it, who regarded our in- 
terests as mortal never regarded them. — 
he who understood the fulaess of the 



CLASSIC UNION. 



Cf 



the lake -which burns evermore, -wiis never 
known to hiugh, but often wept. "Jesus 
wept." it shows a.^mind incapable of 
properly understanding, or a heart incapa- 
ble of properly appreciating our true con- 
dition, to constantly toss upon the whirl of 
hilarity and jesting. You have often seen 
the eye sparklincr with excitement, the 



i-tide of n-Iory" and the depths of! spoken as lightly as the merest follies of a[cu]e, when it prostrates before ittrulh, 

day. This is the more astounding as 

such trifting and rudeness are frequently 

found upon the lips. of those who are pro-_ 

fessedly religious persons. That the man 

who makes no pretension to chijstian char- 
acter, should in ",his heedlessness, - speak 

lightly of that in which he professes no ' 

concern, is so characteristic, ,so in keeping 
cheek colored with enthusiasm, and the [ with all of his conduct with regard to re-, 
breast heaving with a desperate struggling ! ligion, that it is what we naturally expect, 
efifort, to no more weighty or important But that the man upon whose head are 
end, than to give utterance to- a trifling, laid the most solemn vows, the. most 
empty, vapory jest, or to blow away the i weighty responsibihties and the' rtiost sa- 
misty jest which the breath of nothingness cred obligations, — that .he- whose profes- 
bas breathed in our presence. As if it , sion declares that the interests of religion 
were the highest end of our existence, to are the most mxwnentous that heaven or 

trifle, as if we were born to entrap butter- , earth-knows — 'that he who has sworn alle- 1 shaft, and he will quickly know and feel 
flies, created to chase bubbles, as if the giance to the King of Kings, and Lord of i what is<iieant; for universal observation 
mind with its endless existence, its bound- : Lords, in the presence of God, angels and i will attest, the truth, that none feel more 
less wealth and its limitless capacities were i men, should so degrade his profession as ; keenly the smart of the barbed arrow than 
given us for no higher or nobler purpose, ' to speak trifiingly of the holy things of re-.| those who are acc^istomed to bend the 
than to sport with insects or play with ligion, is amazing. Dream ye of Heaven? ; bow. la a world of mingled good and 
straws. Is there not really eiwugh in this mistaken souls, God is not mocked. \\\,oi casualty and imperfection, are not the 

world of stern dutj^ and obligation, to tax i The conduct, in this respect, of the poor ties of friendship sufficiently often cause - 
to sober exertion every power which God : pagan should reproach us for our irreyer- tlessly severed, without deliberatelj' ap- 
has given us? Is there not room enough, ' ence. Though they are hurried in dark- ' plying the sundering knife? Are not 
in the vast fields of heaven, and earth, ' ness, and have no other Bible than that ; long and endeared iiitamacies sufficiently 
crowded with immortal beings and imraor- 1 which the finger of God has written, in the often needlessly estranged, without volun- 
tal responsibilities, for sobriety and con- 1 firmament above them^ yet even they I tarily casting in the bitter element, whose 



friendship and innocence. The vice of 
intimacy 'and-' attachment- which, with its 
tendrils, binds together the kindliest feel- 
ings of kindred hearts, will not long flour- 
ish whei'e is di-iven the . rough plough- 
share gf ridicule. We have too nice a 
iense of justice, are too full of indepen- 
dence, long to cherish feelings of special 
regard for those wltp make our sincerity 
and fr.ankness the fUel for blazing forth 
and kindling into scorching heat the fire 
of a favorite propensity. It is vain fof 
such a person to urge, by way of paliatioa, 
that he meant no harm. by it. Then what 
did he mean ? Let liim be placed in the 
position of him who is the object of his 



templation ? Is there not sorrow and dif- 1 have their sacred mysteries which tbey 
fioulty and accident and death enough in hold it disgraceful and profane, to utter 
our world, to give weight to the thoughts ' lightly. And shall we who are enlighten- 
and steadiness to the eye ? Is there not ' pd from on high, be more incon.sistent than 
moment enough in probation, in judg-Uhpy? Shall we who press this volume 
ment, in eternity, in the smiles of Heaven tg ^ur bosoms as the sacred and precious 
and the frowns of God, to rob the lip of its ^oon of God, as the foundation of iraraor- 
levity and curb the wildness of its hilarity? , (,^1 hopes, use its sacred sayings as instru- 
Oftentimes upon things of high concern ■ menis of humor? O, religion is not a 
and sacred, the jest breathes its blight.- - ;jest; it is an eternal reality. The Bible is 
How often when the eye is suflTused with j not a book of fancy; it is the voice of des- 
thie tears of penitence, and the heart is i tiny. Its record is not a bundle of 
stirred with the emotions of contrition, : dreams; it contains the revelations of 
does the heedless jester drive from the doom. This volume is the breath of God; 



mind of his companion, those reflections 
■which would otherwise have resulted in 
endless life ? Better bury the dagger in 



trifle with his breath ? It can destroy .- 

This volume bears the seal of the eternal 

spirit; trifle with that signature ? It can 
his heart, mock his last gasp, and laugh at ggal endless doom. This volume hath the 
the blood that gushes from his nostrils, i blood of Christ upon it; trifle with the i Oumstar.ces; at any rate, is it the pari of 
than to crush the uprisings of the soul i purple drops df .Tesua' blood? Bather a gentlemen, <3r of a christian, to indulge 
struggling after life. The minister of God 1 play with balls of thunder 1 In all the in It rhen It becomes painful to him who 



very nature, upon every principle of mor- 
al chemistry, ferments estrangement and 
dissolves the closest ties. In a world 
where death and accident reign, where 
afflictions fall suddenly and heavy, where 
the winds of adversity blow darkly fierce- 
ly, and the heart bleeds under the stroke 
of bereavement, are the friends whom 
God hath given us to gather around our 
sinking hopes, to drive the cluud from the 
brow and wipe away the tear, to be so 
highly prized, that for the sake of a mo- 
mentary gratification of vanity or of the 
dia;Jay of a tongue skilled in improper 
use, we will chill their sympathy, cut off 
their kindness, and eeparat* (hem forever 
from us ? Indeed 1 know not, my breth- 
ren, that ridicule is proper under any cir- 



will sometimes permit the tongue consecra-j writings of the Apostles, and history of 

primative christians, we never learn of 
their perpetrating a pun on any scriptural 
saying. The practice of growling and 
misapplying sacred phraseology to light 
and trivial occasions, for the purpose of 
eliciting mirth at the expense of reverence, 
cannot be too severely censured. 

But jesting, like the burnished sword, 
has a keen edge as well as a bright side. 
Itpsrsss* with aaa eaBy'ttatiwtfWH iJo ridi- 



ted to holiness, to run heedlessly upon 
thoughtlessness. Aye, the tongue that 
articulates the sacred names of Calvary, 
God and Savior, dishonors its holy mis- 
sion and, betrays its sacred trust in light- 
ness and jesting. It is due to the forbear- 
ance of God, that such tongues are not 
often scalded by the judgment of Heaven. 
It is truly astonishing how, frequently, 
v« hetfr tbo most ssorsd, tilings of reUgion 



is its object ? Is it the part of a gentle- 
man to causelessly and waiitbnlj infliot 
pain upon thfe humble«t being that bears 
the image of God 1 Efpefially, is it thB 
part of a christian, WlMja© very conimis- 
sion calls him to. tlie work of producing 
universal well-being and happintss, whosa 
verp motto is, "do the greatest possible 
amount of good in the least possible time," 
whose soul should ever be tenderly alive to 
shileid ihtai p«iin and foriify m hsppiat'ss? 



re 



cxAssig uNiOx^., 



The power of ridicule is well understood,. 
and often is it brought to bear upon, truths 
the most important and sacred. The most 
senseless dolt can often, by his drolery, 
inflict injury upon a cause whose truth and 
justice are so firmly established that the 
mightiest bolts of logic cannot move it.-- ^ 
Men have learned that it is much easier to 
e.ttort a laugh — for a "fool can cause 
laughter — than, in a bad; cause, to pro- 
duce sober conviction; therefore will they 
resort to the one when they utterly des- 
pair of accomplishing the other. A bad 
cause, however, is to great an evil, too 
serious an injury to be treated lightlj'; and 
a good cause is too important and sacred, 
to be subjected to ridicule. Therefore 
keep thy tongue from the evil of excessive 
jesting and ridicule. 

[to be concluded in next number.] 



Thb Steamboat Captaix at a Party. — 
The Cincinnati Message rela'es the fol- 
lowing: — A certain steambprt Captain had 
become popular on the river, as a com- 
mander, and was about to take charge of 
a new boat, one of the handsomest that 
was ever built in the west. On the eve- 
ning preceding the morning she was to 
It-avf port, he was induced by one of the 
owners to visit his house, where there 
was to be a party of "ladies, some of 
whom were to be his passengers to New 
Orleans. The Captain lelt a little queer 
about going; he was more at home on the 
harricane deck, or in the social hall of his 
boat than in the drawing-room among 
ladies. He summbied up courage, how- 
ever, went, and was introduced to the 
company. "Captain D.," said one of his 
la ly passengers, "you. must be a happy 
man, to be master of so beautiful a boat." 
"She is a beautiful boat,, madam — sits on 
the water like a duck." He wais "in 
towu"^so long as the conversation was 
about steamboats. "Captain D.," said 
another lady, a blue-stocking of the Lydia 
Languish tribe, "what do you think of 
th.s immortal Shakspearc ? " "Think, 
ni idaru! think! I think she burns too 
much wood, draws too much water, and 
cin-ries, too little freight." AVe never 
learned whether the Captain Staid any 
lunirer or not. 



(Xy Other- passions have objects to 
fliitter (hem, and seemingly to content and 
satisfy them'for a while, trhere is power in 
ambition, and pleasure in luxury, and 
pelf in covetousness, but envey can give 
noihintr but vexation. 



Boast not of to-morrow, for no man 
Vnova'sb what a inj vav,' b.ing forth. 



[For the Classic Union.] 
USURY. 
The meaning of the word usurj^ has, 
like that of many other words undergone- 
a radical change. Formerly it was used 
to denote any rise or premium taken for 
the loan of money. This is strictly jts 
derivative import. But in modern times it 
is used in opposition to legal interest, and 
sig'nifies a loan of money at an exorbitant 
and illegal rate of interest. It was once 
much debated, whether it was lawful in 
the forum of conscience, to receive any 
even the least, return for the use of mon- 
ey. Many church-men were opposed to it 
grounding their opposition on the precept 
m Deuteronomy " Thou shaft not lend un- 
to thy brother vipon usury.'' So deep 
was the antipathy of the church 'to the 
practice of usury that those w^ho followed 
it -were the subjects of many stringent 
laws. In the days of Papal power it was 
regarded as a mortal sin. The Usucr un- 
less he made restitution was by the canon 
law, deprived of the power of making a 
last will and testament, or of taking an}^ 
thing under the will of another. Even af- 
ter death the vengeance of the church 
pursued him and his body was denied bu- 
rial among christian men. But in spite of 
these cruel laws usury found its advocates. 
These contended that there "was nothing- 
immoral, or opposed to the Divine law in 
taking a- moder'ai^ amount of usur}" or 
interest, (for the words were formerly 
synonymous.) To the scriptural argu- 
ments it was answered that the precept 
above quoted was a ^oZ/&a? precept mere- 
ly intended to govern Jews in their deal- 
ings with their brother Jews. That it 
could not be regaided as amoral precept, 
for if so it -would manifestly be as immor- 
al to exact' usury from a stranger as from 
a Jew; yet in the followi-ng verse it is ex- 
pressly said "Unto a srranger thou mayest 
lend upon usury." But w^hatever were 
the merits of the theological question, it 
has been practically decided by christian 
nations in favor of usury in its older sense, 
and under the milder and less opprobrious 
name of, interest, it is sanetioxied by the 
laws of the co-mmei-cial world. Thus eve- 
ry State has fixed for itself a rate of inter- 
est, and the odious naiure of usuer is ap- 
plied to those who violate and exceed these 
laws. 

That the practice of usury in its ordin- 
ary sense, is demoralizing and has a ten- 
dency to lower the tone of those who fol- 
low it, canrot be controverted. The con- 
curring testimony of the whole world — 
the usuera tbemselves alotie excepted — 



might be brought to establish the fact, 
that as a class they are penurious, unfeel- 
ing and selfish. Many admit this, who 
yet can find no reason why it is so. We 
have often heard it urged that on principle 
there can be no difference between lend- 
ing money for such a rate of interest as it 
will command, and selling any thing else 
at its highest price. You take my negro 
upon hire and agree to restore him to me 
at the end of the year, with one hundred 
dollars for the use of him — you take my 
money^the value of the negro — and 
agree to restore it at the end of the year 
with one huiidred dollars for the use of it. 
Are these not, it is urged the same opera- 
tions in substance ? And if so, how can 
one be more or less immoral than the oth- 
er ? We answer that these operations are 
by no means the same. Money of itself 
can produce nothing nor can it administer 
to the wants of anybody. It is merely a 
medium of exchange, and a standard of 
value, nor was it ever intended as an arti- 
cle of commerce. Of itself it can neither 
feed, clothe or otherwise administer to the 
wants of mankind. But it may be urged 
you can use the money. Go to the usuer, 
give him approved security, borrow his 
money for twelve months, and invest it 
prudently in seme article of commerce. — 
By the exercise of skill and industry j'ou 
may at the end of the year be enabled to 
repay the usurer his principle and per 
cents, and furthermore realize a fair profit 
for yourself. 'Now what harm is done 
here — the usuer gets back bis money with 
his twenty or thirty per cent, — the trader 
has sold his commodity so well that he 
can replace this and still have left a fair 
remuneration for his time and skill. This 
looks at the first blush all fair enough. — 
But in this very operation we see the self- 
ish and unsocial spirit of usurj'. The usu- 
er by means of his money avails himself 
indirectly of the skill and talent of other 
men, and appropriates the gains of their 
enterprises without doing any part of the 
labor or incurring any of the hazard 
thereof. While the honest tradesman is 
striving to sell the .merchandize bought 
with the usuer's money, he,, safe behind 
his bonds and his mortgages has abundant 
leisure to reckon his gains, and speculate 
upon the necessities of other victims. — 
It may be said though, that the usuer does 
rim the risk of losing his loaned capital 
and that he ought to be repaid for this. 
This does well enough in theory, and 
practically they sometimes incur losses. — 
But whose eyes have yet been blessed with 
the Hght of that Sbylock who parts with 



CLASSIC UNION. 



71 



his gold without security at least against 
all the foreseen chances of loss. He does 
not deal with his customers hke other 
men. He docs not say to the man of en- 
terprise, I have money, you have skill and 
•industry, we- will buy and sell, together. 
If we are fortunate we- will divide the 
pi-ofits, if not, we will share the loss. — 
'The usuer's is quite a different operation. 
He is not willing to take his chances with 
others. He is not willing to work and 
strive and hazard \Yith them — sink if they 
sink and rise if they rise. Before he parts 
with his money he must first 

" llalvc assurance doubly sure 
And take a bond of fate." 

If the tradesman wants my money, 
saith the usurer, to engage in commerce 
he must first secure me against the fluctu- 
ations of trade. If he succeeds in his 
ventures I am safe. And if ha fails I am 
■safe still, for after the reverse of fortune 
Tias well nigh finished him, I^can still come 
in with my bond and give him the coup de 
grace. No conside-iations of his misfor- 
tunes can defeat my right to be fully re- 
paid. "It is not so nominated in the 
bond." How selfish and unmanly is all 
this. To stand aloof from other men, 
leaving them to battle with the chances of 
human undertakings, and yet fattening on 
the proceeds of their industry. Of all 
partnerships, if such it may be called — 
that between the usurer and the borrower 
is the most unequal, all the labor and risk 
on one side and all the security on the oth- 
er, and yet a fair division of the profits. — 
How different this from operations in 
which men unite their labor and capital. — 
The merchant is with his partner ' hand 
and glove. If they "clam the hill"' they 
rise " thegither" and if not, why " they 
sleep thegither at the foot." Here is the 
proper spirit for man to feel towards his 
brother man. Here is equality, mutual 
aid, and mutual comfort. AVe say to the 
usurer do not sit andidly count your gold, 
but come out and take your chances with 
others in the battle of life, and by running 
the hazard with your fellows, you maybe 
taught to feel a portion of that sympathy 
for their pecuniary misfortunes, a want of 
which is the just reproach of all your 
race. 

Surely if there are any just men who 
reap where they have not sown, and gath- 
er where they have not strewed, usurers 
are such. It need mt he urged on their 
behalf that by lending money they extend 
credit and facilitate the operations of com- 
merce. Let those who control money en- 
gage in commerce themselves, or if this 



does not suit tbem, let them engage in ag- 
riculture, manufacturing or such other 
useful pursuit as their taste may approve. 
Thus money would be brought back to its 
legitimate purpose which is exchange- aiid 
not trafic. Contrast the pursuit-nf usury 
with any other. — -Does it. give such em- 
ployment to the intellectiial faculties as is 
calculated to elevate and expand themind? 
Does it cultivate the moral man ? Does 
it foster generosity, kindness, charity, apd 
benevolence ? or rather dges it not excite 
greediness, selfishness and distrust? Or 
lastly does it like agricultural pursuits 
give even haalthful employment to the 
body. The intelligent farmer finds a 
thousand things in his profession to culti- 
vate, the highest faculties of his mind, and 
to exercise the best feelings of his heart. 
In doing neighborly acts, in taking care 
and providing for his servants and bis 
stock, his humanity, his liberality and 
kindness are exercised and strenghtened. 
And in this lie feels his account. From 
the discharge of the duties he reaps a 
pecuniary reward. Who is there that 
knows not, that it is by the exercise of our 
virtues alone that they are kept alive ? In 
the practice of usury wliat high faculty of 
the mind, what generous sentiment i 
brought into action ? 

We have not urged the objection that 
usury is a violation of the laws of the 
State. And those who follow it are often 
driven to disreputable shifts to cover up 
the illegal transaction, and evade the let- 
ter of th'j law. Trjc, they think the law 
is unreasonable and ought not to exist. — 
But this does not excuse a violation of it. 
Every citizen is bound in conscience to ab- 
stain as much from that which is prohibit- 
ed by law, and which is therefore an evil, 
as he is, to abstain from wha-t is evil in 
itself. 

It may be said that afier all there are 
many very clever men and good citizens 
among the money lenders. This is unde- 
niably true and we have known a few who 
upon the whole were better than the ave- 
rage of other callings. But certain it is 
that the usurers are far from being the 
best class of men. And if we find good 
men among them they are those upon 
whom their caUing has not wrought its 
usual effects. They are such not because 
of their profession, but in sjnle of it. 

The truth is that all classes of society 
need to be reminded that the pursuit cf 
money is not the noblest and most praise- 
worthy object of life. They ought to be 
told that there are higher claims to consid- 



eration than wealth, and more amiable vir- 
tues than thrift where we take a view 6f 
society around us the most unpleasant fea- 
ture which the prospect affords is the un- 
mitigated thirst for wealth and the un- 
blushing adulation which is paid to its 
possessor. The display of genius, of ele- 
gance or of heroic courage will still com- 
mand the applause of an hour, but a more 
enduring respect is shown to the possessor 
of money. Those virtues are prized 
jilone, by society now which lead to suc- 
cess in life while those who constitute its 
charm are little thought of. The days of 
chivalry are gone indeed. As well might 
we look to find, at this day, its pageantry 
its banquets, and its tournays, as its knight- 
ly virtues. The high souled generosity, 
the self-sacrificing devotion, and unbought 
lo3'alty of the knight are as well nigh for- 
gotten as his mouldering escutcheon. — 
Far be it from us to disparage the men-of 
the present day. They have their vb'tues 
but they are such as are called for by the 
spirit of the age. Where all are patriots, 
patriotism no longer 'leads to more than 
common renown. Seasons of profound 
national peace affords but a limited field 
for the display of their manly virtues 
which illustrate, the annals of war, and al- 
most reconcile us to its horrors. We are 
not of those who believe that the men of 
this day are worse than those who went 
before them except in so far as they are 
differently circumstaneed. But unfortu- 
nately it is with nations as with individuals.. 
Times of prosperity ai'e not auspicious to 
virtue. ^Ve believe that if tliere was a 
call for it, the energy and fortitude tjiat are 
now exerted in making money w^ould be 
equally active ia the defence of our coun- 
try. But when a country needs not the 
service of her sons they naturally turn to 
less noble pursmts. It is only to be de- 
plored that there is no other peaceful pur- 
suit, as it seems but the pursuit of money. 
The arts of peace is a misnomer with us. 
There is only one art of peace and that ia 
the art of making money. Many think 
that we ought to be very grateful to Frank- 
lin for his lessons of piactical economy, 
doubtless he was a good and a wise man. 
But our sense of obligation to him would 
be somewhat qualified if we could see the 
full bearing which he has exercised on the 
national character. We believe that if one 
could now arise, and teath our people 
moderation in the pursuit of money, he 
would deserve better of his country than 
if he had enriched her science with a 
thousand discoveries or led hey srwieB 
a thousand victories, , 



1% 



GLASSiC UKiaN. 



NEED OF HEAVEN; 



" Our Father who art in Heaven" The 
heaven where God is, is the point of mans 
wamuX departure, and also the term of 
man's fin.^l destiny. Earth is but an out- 
lying colony and dependency of the Empire 
of Heaven. Miin was not his own maker, 
nor is he properly his o^wn legislator. -True 
views of Virtue, and Dutj, and Govern- 
ment, and liappiness, cannot be formed on 
earth if you exclude heaven from the field 
of vision. Now, ic is the cry of some so- 
cialists and revolutionists iaoui- times, that 
in:in has been cheated of earth by visions of 
an imaginary heaven beyond it, aTid that 
this world may be and ought to be made 
our heaven, and that it will suffice as our 
only paradise. A proposal to make their 
own daylight, and to arrange for them- 
selves the axis, and the poles, and the orbit 
of the earth, by vote of agreatoecumt^nical 
legislature, would be as soherand as prac- 
ticable a theory. You could not, if you 
would, cut loose your globe and your race 
from heaven. It is an impossibility, by the 
will of the earth's Fiviier and Sovereign. 
You should not, if you could, thus disunite 
thcrti. It would be wretchedness. Heaven 
is necessary to earth, even in the things of 
this life, to drop its balm into the beggar's 
cup, and to shed its light on the child's les- 
son. You cannot sail over that compara- 
tively narrow strip of your planet, the sea 
that parts your coast fiom the white cliffs of 
,Albion, without calling the heavcu and its 
orbs in th^ir far wider range of space into 
view, in order-thereby to aid your calcula- 
tions and to supply your nautical reckon- 
ings. You cannot time your morrow's 
visit to your office, but as God shall -keep 
his sun and your own earth, (or A(s earth 
rather,) as they roil and blaze, millions of 
miles away from each other in ilieir present 
relative positions to each other. And so, 
without the moral intiueiice of the lieavens 
upon the ertrih, you cftnnot be blest, or 
just, or free, or tru*. Your philosophies 
become— with God forgotten or defied, wiih 
eternity and accountability obliterated from 
their teachings— but a lie; and your polii* 
ical economy, shorn of Duty and God, is 
Itft but a lie; and your statcsmnn.-hip, and 
your civilization, and yoyr enfranchise- 
rient, if 'torn luose. from Conscience and 
iheLord of Conscience', all are left hut 
' cne vast and ruinous delusion. 

Man's Maker is in heaven. He formed 
his creature for his own service and his own 
glorv. That creature has revolted; and 
until his return to the God in heaven from 
whom he has departed, the anger of Heav- 
en. is on the race and its institutions; and 
even its mercies are cursed. . The shadow 
of the Throne must be pi'ojteted over the 
board where man daily feeds; over (he 
criidle, and school, snd the ballot-box; over 
thf shop, and the railroad, and ihe swift 
»Uip; the anvil, and the plough, and the 
loom; overall that ministers to man's earth- 
ly comforts and corporeal needs, as well as 
OTer the pillow where he lays down his 
throbbing head to die, and over the grave 
■where he has left his child, his wife, or his 
friend, to moulder. Not that we ask an 
.•atolflifilimjsitof Ciristifcoily as a pi&t« re- 



ligion. But we mean that, for man's own 
interest, his daily mercies and tasks must, 
in Haul's language, " be- sanctified by the 
Word of God and prayer," by a remem- 
berance of the Deity whose subject he ir- 
revocably is, and a continual preparation 
for the eternity of which he is indefeasibly 
the heir. 

Heaven was, we said, not only man's 
point of departure, but it is' also the term of 
his final deslbiy. We do not mean that 
allmen will reach heaven to inherit it. — 
But all must stand before its bar to be 
judged. They cannot strip from them- 
selves mortaliiy or immortality, and the; 
moral accountability which, after death, 
awaits the deathless and disembodiedspirit. 
This world is but a scene of probation.-— 
ChiLst has desccnced to show how this 
world may become the preparation for a 
celestial home. Bring heaven, as Christ's 
blood opens it and Christ's Word paintsit, 
before the wretched and wicked denizens 
of earth; and what power does that eternal 
world, seen by the eye of faith, possess to 
attract and to elevate; to extricate fi om the 
quagmires of temptation; to assimilate imd 
ennoble the degraded into its own glorious 
likeness; and to compensate the suffering 
and the needy and the neglected of carih 
tor all which they have lost and for all they 
have endui'ed. 

And until men consent to make heaven, 
as it were the back groundof all theirearth- 
ly \ista, their views, in histoiy and in art, 
and in science, and in law, and in freedom, 
must all be partial and fallacious. Eliza- 
beth of England, in ignorance of the laws 
of painting, wished her own portrait to be 
taken by the painter without shadows. She 
knew not that in the pamter's art there 
cOuld not be light and prominence to any 
fi'gure or leature, unless it had some meas- 
ure ot shade behind it. Alas! how many 
would have man portrayed, in their 
schemes of polity and of philosophy, with- 
out the dark background of Death and 
Eternity behind him, and without the 
shadings of Fear, and dim Hope, and 
dark Oonsjieli-ce within him. But it can- 
not be. 

Fit the man for heaven, and train him 
for eternity, and he cannot be utterlj'- unfit 
for cari,h while he stays there. Fit him for 
earth only, secularize his education, and re- 
fuse to acknowledge his relations and obli- 
gations to heaven, and he is no longer 
truly and fully fit for earth. Our globe, 
without the sun or the stars, or the light of 
the material heavens, what were it as a 
place of man's habitation ? Read a noble 
and infidel bard's gloomy poem on Dark- 
ness, and you may conceive the fate of a 
race blinded aud chilled, and groping their 
way into one frozen charnal house. And 
-So our earth, without the light of Christ the 
Former of it, and Christ on the throne as 
the Judge of it; the world, without him as 
its t'on of Righteousness, is morally eclips- 
ed and blasted with the winter of the se- 
cond death; and that frost and gloom kill 
not only its religion, but kill its freedom as 
well, and its peace, and its civilization, 
and its science. 

Let the world know that there ts a Fath- 
er, and tbey will b*tliipk thcim <rf his provi- 



dence; let them know that he is our com- 
mon Father, and they vr'dl learn charity 
and philanthropy for the race; let them 
know that he is in heaven, and they will be 
awed and guided by that immortality and 
accountability which link them to that 
woild ol light. 

Let the churches ponder these great 
truths. In ihejilial principle of our text, 
they will find life and earth made glorious 
by ihe thought that a Father made and 
rules them; and, above alhworldlj' distinc- 
tions, they will prize and exult in their 
bonds through Christ to Him; rejoicing 
mainly, as Christ commanded his apostles 
to rejoice, in this, that their names are writ- 
ten in heaven. In the/raternal principle 
we shall aright learn to love the church and 
to compassionate the world; and in the 
principle celestial, we shall be taught to 
cultivate that heavenly mindedncss which 
shall make the Christian, though feeble, 
suffering and forlorn in his woaldly rela- 
tions, already lustrous and blest, as Burke 
described in her worldly pomp, and in the 
bloom of her youth, the hapless Queen of 
France : " A brilliant orb, th at seemed scarce 
to touch the horizon." More justly might 
the saint of God be thus described; having 
already, as the apostle enjoins, his conver- 
sation in heaven, and shedding around 
earth the splendors of that world with 
which he holds close agd blest communion, 
and towards which, he seems habitually 
ready to mount, longing to depart that he 
may be with Christ, which is far better. — 
Lectures on the Lord's frayer by Rev. Wm. 
R. Wdliams, D. D. 



PilOCXAMATION. 

To the People of lite State of Tennessee. 

It has pleased the great Author of our 
existence, "the Giver of every good and 
perfect gift," to bestow upon us, during 
the past year, the blessings of peace, 
health, and prosperity. For these evi- 
dences of his continual care and mercy, 
it is eminently becoming a christian people 
to exhibit, in a marked and public man- 
ner, the deep sense of their gratitude, and 
to acknowledge his goodness and power. 
With this view, and in accordance with 
an approved and highly honored usage, 
and in concurrence with the intention of 
almost all of our sister States, I do here- 
by set apart and appoint the STth day of 
the present month — November, 1861 — to 
be observed by the citizens of our favored 
commonwealth, as a day of praise and 
thanksgiving. 

In testimony whereof, I have hereunto 
set my hand and caused the Great Seal 
of said State to be affixed at office in 
Nashville, the 10th day of November, 
1 851. By the Governor, 

WM. B. CAMPBELL. 
W. B. A. Ramset, Sec'y of State. 

Nov. 11, 1861. 



[X3~ The suit between the Morse and 
Bain lines of telegraph has been decided 
in the United States Circuit Court at 
Philadelphia in favor of the Morse line 
patent. The Bain patent is declared an 
iflfringMnemt upon tiiat of MQrae. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



PP.IMARY THOROUGHK^rSS. 



"rJisi iiomiiiiis, friistra." 
JI. niLLSMAX, '♦ 

ASD THE FACVLTT OF UNION" CSIVERSITY 

Editors and Proprietors. 



3l ll C ^ ' (I '^ S i C It U i 11 ! o'-'i*^'" f*"*^ woulJ be priiswu biU liimself 

This punctuality on his part will, st rve to xhc-re txists at ihe pr.ffient dar a very 
pronvjlu. the same. tid.-lity in liis lu'arers. ' gj.,,.^. inj.;in^,i^„ to urge students' from the 
The absence of a. ministei; from his ap- primiirv it) more advanced studies. Pa- 
poin-raent ou-ht to b^ proof p6sifUetiiat ^^,„;^_ and even some instructors, are r.ot 
cither he.or some one oT. his family is ; ^^,„tg_„*t ^j^^.^, ^1^^,^,. ^^^^ ^^ p^^jj^ ^^^^^jj 
dangerously ill. We hope ministers will , j^^^^ ^.j,„j;j,„^ ;„ „,^. rudiments, but are 
be more punctual in reganl to their ap-'l .,„xious that thty should study the higher 
pointments and give less occasion to,ihe |order ol maihematics and classics. Theii- 
world to enquire "what do ye more thnn' pi^^^fo^ so doing is that the^-e studies are 
°^"'-"'"*- ' i Well calculated to discipline the mind. — 

Again. A church cdls .a minister- to frue, they are admirably adapted to de- 
preacn for them, and promises tx).p4^ him. jvelopeaifd strengthen the faculties of 
stipulated sum. A: the end x)f tlie--yeBr ^tj^^ge minds which are capable of contend- 
he receive.s, it may be, one-hnlf of what jng with their difficuhies and eompreUend- 
thechurch promised, and ,hi^ is all. Is i„g their principles. Biu'they are equally 
this fulfillvng the promise' On whom lie,s un-^uit^d to diose who hare not been pre- 
the guilt of violating a solemn obligation? ^.j^^^jy ^^j, jj^iiled in the fitst principles 
We answer, the chur h: an 1 no inJiviJuar^f an edu<;atioh;" and to place "a youth, 
member can free himself from the ckajge ^^,,^ ^^^^^^^^ ^ ^^.,.^. smattering of arith- 




N0VEMBER15, 1851. 

PROMISES. 
A promise implies an intention ta per- 
form the thing promised. If the prora- 
iser does not intend to fulfil his promise, 
he at the outset asserts a falsehood. It 
also implies an ohligaliun to perform it. — 
He who promises is bound to fulfil the ex-, 
pectation which he voluntaril)' excites. — 
He has no right to change his mind, nor 
can he do it without violating moral obli- 
gations, unless the person or persons to 
whom the promise was made release him 
from the performance. He has no right 
to say, that is a matter of little impor- 
tance, he has voluntarily made the prom- 
ise, and he must fultil it, if within the 
bounds of possibility, provided it is nut 
wrong to do it. It is strange, pibi>ing 
strange, what loose notions many enler- 
tain in regard to the binding nature of 
promises. They are thoughtlessly made 
and as thoughtlessly disregarded. We 
have known Ministers of the Gospel make 
appointments to preach, and afterwards, 
from some trivial circumstance, make no 
efforts to comply with their promise. A 
faint prospect oi' rain, or a change in the 
weather, is sufficient to induce them to 
violate their word, or they take up the 
idea that but few will attend, and from that 
fa'.t (a fact conjured up by their own im- 
agination,) they think they are perfectly 
exhonorated from fulfilling an expecta- 
tion which they have excited. This is 
wrong — wrong in principle and wrong in 
its tendency. It is, to call it by the mild- 
est name, telling a lie. Mark those who 
are loose in their morals in regard to at- 
tending their appointments, and you will 
generally find them loose in many o'her 
things. A minister ought always to be 
punctual at his appoiniments, even if he 
a»d every reaaoji to believe that not an- j 



oi falsehood becaiy=e be hts. as lie thinks, ^^,r^, ,;,^,.;,p,,3;, ^^d history, to studv- 
paid his.p.r. A promise hrfs h^'^^^^^^^^^f^^^^,^^^^^^^^^ 
made, and that promise must be fuifineJ.. {^.^^ j^ ^j- ^^y^^, . j. ;, p^ductive of ma- 

tiv deliterious consequences, and has of- 
ten been.Uie cause of putting young men 

In 
their eiLrly youth" they' acquired" some 
LnowiedgeoT thu geography of their own 
cour^try and of the world, learned the 
names of the noted cities, towns, moun- 



oreke a^great wron;^' is i-ommiUed. And 
we ask, i« not eagli mLmlJer inli.viJu. lly 

bound to fulfil i . or ,=ee thu it is fu fijlei,- ,^f ^^^^ ^.^^^j..,, ^^x^^^^\o the blush 
as much as each in I. ir^er on ano:e? Thi-re 
are some churches that h.iw.e thus prom- 
ised, but have nut rclicmed heir su't-mn 
pledge. Can thev expect the blcssinj^ of 
tiiev con- 



Go J to rest upon them so Jonij: -.s iiicv euu- .-• -1. J ir 1 iJ 

'^ . ' ^, - - tarns, nvers, bays and gulls, and could 

tinue thvis to ialsity their Word"? We speak , .,, . ._, ^, , , 

, . , , . , . , - . repeat them with facility; they also be- 

plamlv upon ihis sub eel, because We hi ra- , . ..,.., 

, , : , , ■" , ' , ■ , came somewhat proficient in arithmetic, 

Iv bilieve church members do no', feel as i , . ,, ., ' ., , ., . , 

, , , . , , ,,. , and could easily solve the identical pro- 

mor.iUv bojini- lu regard to lumilHi' the , , .. ~ , , tt . i i 

. . . , ,.- , , blem in tueir book. Having made such 

promises which they make m atfhu;'.i;h ... , , .' , , 

'^ , , • . ' acjiusriioBs, they were hurried on, and, 

capacilv as llu-v ought.- und ior this rearoii' -• , ,- ' . • . -^ . i, " ^i • 

,' • ,,',.• ■ ■-•■,' -scarcely ever reverting to these things. 

the curse o. G ijj-i res>!n •' up m Ihein.— - ■■-. • ,. •■. ' . ■:, 7^ ,, i " 

■^ '^. „ . except when -Compelled to blush on ac- 

.-ubjec' f"^ ■ ^ - ■ 



V\ e are not dune, with 



K 



■• • count of their ignorance, they have been 
The Hum. iN Heart.— The Tehx-t moss, almost entirely forgotten. The impres- 
will grow upon the sterile rock— .his liiis- 1 sit)ns which were so vivid and seemed so 
tietoe flourisli upon the withered branch— histing, have been erased by the finger of 
the ivy ciing to ihe mouldering ruin— the time, as the track on the ocean's beach is 
pine tree and ced r n ni;:iri fre.-h and !a ;e- swepv :Mv;^fly by the first advancing wave, 
less amid the mu :uion of the dying year' This fac; demonstrates the necessity of pri- 
—and. Heaven be praised! something ' nJary thoroughness. A superficial knowl- 
green, something beautiful Eo'see anJ edge of. these studies-^may be easily ac- 
grateful to the soul, will, in the coldest, ' quired, but in order that they be under- 
darkest hour of fate, s ill twine its tendrils ' stood there must be long continued appli- 
around the crnmbhng altars and broken ' cation.. If this is done an impression will 
arches of the desolate tempks of the hu- be made which no lapse of time can 
man heart ! ] erase, and the pupil may then safely ad- 

' Vance and rear a sublime and towering 
The map of France, which^ was begun .^p^^g.^ueture upon the foundation he has 



rendered firm and solid by continued ap- 



plication. 



T. 



in 1817, isno* \et finishe 1. It is to con- 
tain 550 sheets, of which 149 are already 
published. TheVe yet remains five years' 
work in surveying- and nine years' wo:kt There is a tree in Bombay, called the 
■ ; , , Ti ,.>,! „. ..sack-tree, from which are stripped very 

in engraving to be done. Ihe total cos. ■ , . , i., Ti,^.,r are frnm 

= ^ sinu-ular natural .sacks, they are trom 

will exceed £4UO,000 sterling. Up to six to eight feet high, and resemble felt in 
this time 2,249 staff officers have been em- appearance, the only joining being at the 
ployed the work. I bottom. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



IS^TELLECTUAL APPLICAXION'. exhausfible- source's of information within 

Tlie liuman naind possesses tn3'sterious | the reach of every ' on-e-. By tliis ho was 
and eshaustless energies. But it is ush- enabled to convert wate.r into' steam, ap- 
ered into the world in a state of embryo J ply its ■ elastic force iu -propelling vessels 
all its powers being latent, and destined tp! across tlic nlighty deep, steamboats upon 
develope and strengthen by their own ex- every river, and the locomotive over hill 
orciseandif not exerted to remain en- Lnd dale— through mountain and plain ! 
cased in the gloomy darkness of ignorance. This empow&red him to reach forth the 
It is as the diamond that has not passed j ^iglity arm of scieuce, grapple witJi the 



through the hands of the Lapidary. The' 
power and bea-uty of its susceptibilities 
have not become apparent. FoP' as the 
precious gem does not sparlde with its 
wonted lustre until polished, neither does 
the mind beam with that, bright intellectu- 
al effulgence of which it is capable until 
burnished by application. Energetic, per- 
severing application is the only means of 
human developement. This holds equal- 
ly true with regard to man's physical and 
mental capabilities. Hi^ muscular strength 
is augmented only by healthful exercise 
and to exertion is the only means of in- 
creasing his mental vigor. Those, who 
now stand as resplendent stars in the in- 
tellectual world do not occupy theirpres- 
entposition because gifted with a higher 
order of talent than others, but because 
their energies have been brought into more 
active exercise. The powers of their 
minds were not sufl'ered to remain latent, 
but were called into requisition, and thus 
they rose from the vale of mental imbe- 
cility, and triumphantly scaled the rugged 
.steep "where -fame's proud temple shines 
afar.'' 

Intense and continued application is ne- 
cessary not only to secure, but to relain 
an active and powerful mind. The path 
way that leads to the bright fields of lear 



lightning of hea.ven, drag it from its eter- 
nal abode, dash it in harness, and bid it 
execute his will in annihilating time 'and 
space ! In short, this is the means by 
which he has opened the store-house of 
nature, unfolded the treasures of the uni- 
verse, and modified them for the supply 
of his wants. 

These truths all acknowledge, but how 
man}' young men- are there, who, having 
left the enchantments of home and sought 
some distant college, seern to have forgot- 
ten that they must study, and study in- 
tensely, in order to become truly educa- 
ted'? They appear not to remember that 
thougTi all individual should resort to an 
institution where every conceivable facili- 
ty of learning could he, enjo3'ed ; yet ho 
must tax his own energies if he improves, 
and that if he fail to do this, to stay the 
mountain torrent, as it dashes from clift 
to clift, as to flatter himself with the hope 
of attaining intellectual superiority with- 
out severe mental toil. T. 



MEMOIR OF DR. JUDSON-. 
A memior of Dr. Judson has been pub- 
lished, by Derby &c Wilson, Auburn, N. 
Y . _We have not seen this work, but learn 
tl>at it is- a compiUition of extracts which 
have heretofore been published, and which 
ning, where the sun of knol wedge ever 1 ^re familiar to most intelligent friends of 
pours forth its brilliant flood of light, can missions. We trust this memoir, will re. 



be pursued only by those who are assidu- 
ous, and the moment that one of the vo- 
taries of learning relaxes his energy, he 
immediately begins to retrograde, and is 
soon borne upon the listless stream of for- 
getfulness into his former state of igno- 
rance. This is manifest to the most cur- 
sory observer ; for ^here are multitudes 
that in youth bid fair to win wisdom's 
coal, who, having been allured from their 
course by the love of pleasure, have sunk 
into insignificence. 

But though application is necessary to 
secure intellectual greatness, yet the ad- 
vantages accruing therefrom are sufficient 
to inspire every mind with an ardent de-- 
sire for knowledge. This enabled the hu- 
man mind to accomplish all that it has 
achieved. It empowered man to invent 
the Printing Press, which has placed in 



ceive the merited neglect of the public 
and the author receive that evidence of 
disapprobation due so great a want of res- 
pect for the distinguished dead and his 
bereaved family, as to thrust upon the 
public this memoir, w'hen it had been an- 
nounced by his particular friends, that a 
work prepared from materials in posses- 
sion of his family, would be soon forth- 
coming — the proceeds of which should be 
applied to the benefit of his wife and chil- 
dren. Upon the arrival of Mrs. Judson 
in the United States, we learn that the pub- 
lishers of this worl{_ sent her a note re- 
questing her to accept an interest in the 
proceeds of its sale, which she promptly 
and prudently declined, stating that as the 
friends of Dr. J. had not been consulted 
in its publication, she could not sanction 
it, so far as to be a partner to ite profits. 



D.r. Judson having devoted his life and 
property to- the cause of missions, and 
leaving nothing to his family save the re- 
collection of his virtues, and works of love 
and mercy to the heathen, it was due his 
wife and children that all of a pecuniary 
character, to be realised from such a work 
should be theirs; and that the work itself 
should have had their sanction and aid. 

We are gratified that Dr. W^ayland, at 
the instance of the Mission Board, and 
Mrs. Judson is preparing an authentic 
work from materials in their possession, 
which will soon be before the public. — 
The reputation of the author will cause 
the work to be looked for with great inter- 
est. H. 



We have just had the pleasure of pe- 
rusing a Compendium of Grecian An- 
tiquities, by Charles D. Cleveland, pub- 
lished by Lippencott, Grambo & Co., 
Philadelphia. There is perhaps no better 
test of true Genius in a writer than the 
ability to combine the brevity necessary 
in a compendium, with that vividness of 
conception which is capable of fixing the 
attention of the reader. But this we 
think our author has succeeded in doing. 
Though he surveys a field so wide that it 
would be impossible within the limits of 
his work to descend to those minute de- 
tails which must interest the general rea- 
der, yet he hus given the outlines of the 
most important facts and events of Gre- 
cian history, in a stjde so happy, that the 
attention of the reader is riveted, and it is 
difficult for him to lay down the book. — 
Though we have turned over many a page 
on the same subject, and read all the facts 
here recorded, still we become so inter- 
ested in reading the contents of this com- 
pendium that we robbee Morpheus of his 
share of our time. We seldom find so 
much valuable information contained with- 
in so small a compass. 

This work is well worthy of being used 
as a text book in our schools add colleges, 
add we would recommend it especiallp to 
all those who are interested in- the Greek 
lano'uae-e and literature. E. 



Judge not Rashly. — Alas! how unrea- 
sonable as well as unjust a thing it is for 
any to censure the infirmities of another, 
when we see that even good men are not 
able to dive through she mystery of their 
own ! Be assured there can be but little 
honesty, without thinking as well as possi- 
ble of others; and there can be no safety 
without thinking humbly and distrustfully 
of ourselves. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



THD EELIGTOS" OF GEOLOGY, AND ITS 

CONNECTED SCIENCES. 
By EnTv. Hitchcock, D. D., L. L. D., &c., Boiton; 

Phillips, Sampson, Co. 

The author has long been known to the 
public as a scholat, and a man of seience. 
If we reccollect aright, it was the study of 
Natural Historj'', that, many years ago, 
restored his shattered health. He has 
had much reason to love nature, nor has 
he loved in vain; she has yiel3ed up to 
him many of her prefoundest secrets. — 
His work on Geology — no doubt the most 
scientijic work ever published on the .sub- 
j-ect — and his various reports, have rhad« 
his name familiar to the public, but in this 
countrj' and Europe, whilst the consecra- 
tion of all his knowledge to the cause of 
Christianity doubly enhances the gift. 

The time was when Geology, like As- 
tronomy, was considered a deadly foe to 
the Bible. Volumes have been written 
and anathemas pronounced without num- 
ber, on the unfortunate science. 

That God in nature does not contradict 
God in Revelation, but indeed confirms 
and affords important illustrations of Scrip- 
ture, is now generally admitted. Our 
Savior in his parables, and the sacred 
writers generally, often appeal to some 
simple but apposite feature in God's "han- 
dy work." 

One cannot but admire the delicate but 
appropriate dedication to his wife, and the 
deep religious feeling pervading the whole. 
It should be in the hands of every minis- 
ter. As a sample of the work, we give 
an extract or two: 

Nitre. — "In the book of Proverbs, (sxv. 
20,) we find it said, that as vinegar ujjon 
nitre, so is he that sinr/clh sonr/s to a heavy 
heart. We should expect from this state- 
ment that when we put vinegar upon what 
we call nitre, it would produce some com- 
motion analogous to the excitement of 
song singing. But we should try the ex- 
periment in vain; for no effect whatever 
would be pioduced. Again, it is said by 
the prophet Jeremiah, (ii. 22,) Though 
thou leask thee with nitre, and tah-e thee 
much soap, yet thine iniquity is marked he- 
fore me, saith the Lord. Here, too, we 
shoald expect that the use of nitre would 
increase the purifying power of the soap; 
but the experiment would prove rather the 
reverse. The chemist, however, informs 
us that there is a substance, viz: the car- 
bonate of soda, which, if substituted foi' 
the nitre, would effervesce with vinegar, 
and aid the purifying power of soap, and 
thus strikingly illustrate the thought, both 
of Solomon and Jeremiah. And on re- 
curring to the original, we find that the 
Hebrew word nether, nitntm, or natrum, 
does not necessarily mean the salt we call 
nitre, but rather a fossil alkali, the natron 
of the ancients, and carbonate of the 
moders." — [Page 7.] 

Divine Benevolence and Foresight. "If 

A created and intelligent being from some 



other ir-phere had alighted on this globe 
during that remote period when the vege- 
tation now. dug out of the cokI fornoation 
covered tlie surface with its gignntic 
growth, he raighi iKiveftltasir here was a 
wa*te of creative power; Vat^ fores- s of 
sigillaria leimiifdendr/i, coniferuc, lychdeae, 
and tree ferns wtjuld have waved.over his 
head, with thefr impiDsing thotfgh' sombre, 
foliage, while the ksser tribes'of calumiles 
and' equisetaeeae would have filled the in- 
tervening spaces; but no vurtcbrar'animal 
would have.been thej'e to enjoy *and en- 
liven the almost universal solitude: Why, 
then, he must have inquired, is there such 
a profusion of vegetable forms, and such a 
colossal development of individual plants? 
To what use can such vast forests be ap- 
plied ? But let ages roll by, and that 
same being revisit our v.'orld at the pre- 
sent time. Let him ti-a\xrse, the little is- 
land of Britain, and see- there fifteen thou- 
sand steam engines moved by coal dug- 
out of the earth, and produced by these 
same ancient forests. Let him see these 
engines performing the woik of two mil- 
lions of men, and mo.ving machinery 
which accomplishes what would require 
the unaided labor of three or four millions 
of men, and he could not doubt but such 
a result was one of the objects of that 
rank vegetation which covered the earth 
ere it was fit for the residence of such na- 
tures as now dwell upon it. Let him go 
to the coal fields of other countries, and 
especially those of the United States, 
stretching over 150,000 square miles, con- 
taining a quantity absolutely inexhausti- 
ble, and already imparting comfort to mil- 
lions of the inhabitants, and giving life 
and energy to every variet}' of manufac- 
ture through the almost entire length of 
this country, and destined to pour out their 
wealth through all coming time, long af- 
ter the forests shall all have been levelled; 
and irresistible must be the conviction up- 
on his mind, that here is a beautiful exam- 
ple of prospective benevolence on the part 
of theDeity."— [pp. 210-2n.] 

Atheism. — "We present ten thousand 
examples of exquisite design and adapta- 
tion in nature to the Atheist. He admits 
them all: but says, it was always so, and 
thcrefoi-e requires no other deity but the 
power eternally inherent in nature. At 
your metaphysical replies to his- objec- 
tions, he laughs; but when you take him 
back in geological wings, and bid him 
gaze on man, just springing, with his 
lofty powers, from the plastic hands of 
his Creator, and then, still earlier, you 
point him to system after - system of or- 
ganic life starting up in glorious variety 
and beauty on the changing earth, and 
even still nearer the birth of time, you 
show him the globe, a glowing ocean of 
fire, swept of all organic life, he is forced 
to exclaim : 'A God ! — an infinitely wise 
and powerful God !' Compare such a 
world with that now teeming with life, 
and beauty, and glory, which we inhabit, 
and say, must not the transition to its 
present condition have demanded the ex- 
ercise of infinite power, infinite wisdom, 
and infinite benevolence?" — [p 175-176, 
16'i-] D. 



THE SWORD AND THE PRESS. " 
The following beautiful extract, illus- 
trating in a powerful manner the advan- 
tages of printing to maflkind, is from an 
tssay by Thomas Carlyle, in tlje British 
ileview, published nearly two years ago, 
when^that some what noted writer clothed 
h-is'i-deas in plain Englishi apd his works 
could be read without the aid of a Glos- 
sary, and understocd without an insight 
iptq-the mysteries of Transcendentalism: 
"When Tamerlane had finished build- 
ing his pyramid of seventy thousand hu- 
man skulls, and was seen standing at the 
gate of Damascus, glittering in steel, with 
his battle-axe on his sholder, till his fierce 
hosle filed out to new' victories and new 
courage, to pale looker-on might have 
■fancied that nature was in her death-throes 1 
for havoc and despair had taken posses- 
sion of the earth; the sun of manhood 
eeemed setting in seas of blood. Yet it 
might be on that very gala day of Tamer- 
lane, that a little boy was playing nine- 
pins on the streets of Mentz, whose his- 
tory was mo7-e impoi'tant than that of 
twenty Taraerlans. The Kham with his 
shaggy demons of the wilderness, "pas- 
sed away like a whirlwind," to be forgot- 
ten forever; and the German artizan has 
wrought a benefit which is yet immeasu- 
rably expan-ding itself; and will continue to 
expand itself through all countries and 
through all time. What are the conquests 
and expeditions of the whole corporation 
of captains, from Walter the Pennyless to 
Napoleon Bonaparte, compared with ihose 
movable types of Faust? Truly it is a 
mortifying thing for your conqueror to re- 
flect how perishable is the metal with which 
he hariHners with such violence, how the 
kind earth will soon shroud up his bloody 
foot-prints, and all that he achievedd and 
skilfull}' piled together, will be but like 
his own convas city of a camp — this eve- 
ning loud with life, to-morrow all struck 
and vanished — "a few earth piles and 
heaps of straw." For hei'e, as always, 
it continues that the deepest force is the 
stillest; that as in the fable, the mild shi- 
ning of the sun shall silently accomplish 
what the fierce blustering of the tempest 
in vain as-ayed. Above all, it is ever to 
keep in the mind that not hy material, hut 
by moral power, are men and their actions 
governed. How noiseless is thought 1 — 
No rolling of drums, no tramp of squad- 
rons, or immeasurable tumult of baggage 
wagons attend its moveoients. In what- 
obscure and sequestered places may the 
head be meditating which is one day to be 
crowned with more than imperial author- 
ity! for kings and emperors will be among 
its ministering servants, it will rule not 
over, but in all heads, and with these its 
solitary combinations of ideas and with 
magic fornulas, bend the world to its will! 
The time may come when Napoleon him- 
self will be better known for his laws than 
his battles, and the of Waterloo prove 
less momentous than the opening of tho 
first Mechanics' Institute. 



Learn to improve every moment. 



70 



CLASSIC UNION.- 



[Far the Classic Unian.} 
ilART B.;— OP., THE DANCING SCHOOL. 

In the beautiful valley o,f the C.is a 
quieb rural ^'illago, surroirad^cl by the 
most romantic scenery that ever captiva^ 
ted the imagination of Painter or Poet. 
In this lov.ely retreat stood the dwelling- 
of a lady whipn we shall call Mrs. 'B.—= 
She wji-s a widow, in affluent circum^ 
stances, and thejnother of three children., 
Mrs. B. was a member of the Church, 
and a woman of decided piety; but she 
had not that firmness of christian princi- 
ple and independence of character, which 
are requisite to bring the current maxims 
and opinions of the world to the test of 
dis^ine revelation, before allowing them to 
influence her conduct. Her eldest daugh- 
ter, Mary, was, at the time of my first 
acquaintance with the family, about fif- 
teen years of age, and a more lovely hu- 
man being I have n.ever seen. "Too 
beautiful for earth," was the involuntary 
exclamation of all who beheld her,, and 
yet she seemed wholly unconscious of her 
personal advantages; amiable and un- 
selfish in her disposition, she was entirely 
devoted to the happiness of those around 
her, and especially of her mother, for 
whose sake she was ever ready to sacrifice 
any childish gratification. She also gave 
indications of superiority of intellect. — 
She was a persevering and indefatigable 
student, and her attainments in knowledge 
were such a* to e.^cite in her friends high' 
fir expectations for her mental than her 
personal endowments. It is not strange 
that the heart of the widowed mother was 
bound up- in such a child as this. About 
this time a dancing School was opened in 
the village by a French master of consid- 
erable celebrity, and Mrs, B. was advis«d 
by some of her worldly acquaintances to 
send Mary to the school, as a means of 
improving her manners. Mrs. B. had 
some hesitation on the subject. She sin- 
cerely desired the salvation of her child, 
and ^he feared the consequences of culti- 
vating a taste for a worldly amusement of 
so facinating a character. And besides, 
as she looked upon the movements of her 
daughter, exhibiting as they did the per- 
fection of natural grace and ease, i'le 
could hardly understand how they could 
be improved by dancing. Still others 
thought dancing necessary in order to give 
polish to the manners, and of course it 
must be so; and as she did not wish her 
daughter to be deprived of any advantages 
for improvement, she sent her to the 
dancing school. She wished her to learn 
to dance for the sakie of her manners, but 



she would on no account permit her to at- 
tend balls or promiscuous assemblies. A 
marked change was soon, pereeptible in_ 
the manners of Miwy B., but that change 
was any thing but an improvement. She 
"had excited unbounded adlniration a-s she 
moved through the mazes "of the dance.— ^ 
-The poisoiiou?- breath of flattery had 
readied her ear, and ah-ead.y began to 
wither e'veij^thing that was lovf ly in her 
character. ' From this time hf?r progress 
in knowledge was at an end; for though 
she siill continued to con over the pages 
of Bourdon and Virgil, yet it was with a 
rq.ind preoccupied by the fascinations of 
the dance. As months rolled, on, the 
change in her character became more de- 
cided. That artless -simplicity, that for- 
getfulness of self, which had formerly 
won all hearts by its irresistable charm, 
was supplanted by self-conscip.usness, con- 
straint and affectation. The effect upon 
her character was still more obvious: she 
was no longer the sweet tempered, docile 
and affectionate daughter, prompt to do. 
her mother's bidding, and ever watchful 
to render her some service or relieve her 
of some care. The poison of flattery had 
done its fatal work. The desire of admi- 
ration had taken complete possession of 
her heart. She become impatient of 
restraint. She craved excitement, and 
was no longer happy in the society of her 
once loved home. About a year after 
she entered the dancing .school, she was 
invited to a public ball, and though her 
mother besought her with tears in her 
eyes to remain at home, she went, and 
from that time her place m the ball room 
was never vacant. The mother was now 
deeply sensible of her error, and most 
bitterly did she regret it. She would have 
given the world to have seen her daughter 
again the same sensible, affectionate and 
rational being she. was at fifteen. 

Mary B. hed just entered her nine- 
teenth year when a revival of religion 
commenced in her native town. As the 
seriousness become very general, Ma,ry 
declared she could not exist where it was 
so dull, and accordingly she visited a 
neighboring city in search of gayety. It 
was in vain thrt her mother, who was 
now deeply anxious for the salvation of 
her child, strove to detain her at home. — 
She must have the excitement and the flat- 
tery she found. in gay assembhes, and go 
she would. Meanwhile the work of grace 
prog.iess,ed in the valley af the C, Many 
of the young people of the towj^ >and 
among them thfryounger brother iBfrsis- 
ter of Mary, irer© the subjeete of tb« 



work. Mrs. B. thought if Mary could 
only be prevailer" onto return home, that 
she too would be induced to forsake her 
vanities and seek the salvation of her soul. 
She accordingly wrote to her, urging her 
to return, and requested those of her 
friends who she thought would have the 
modt influence, to do the same, but all to 
np purpose. She could not think of ex- 
changing the- sound of the violin and the 
fascination of the dance for the solemn 
meeting- and the anxious seat. She re- 
plied to her mother's entreaties that a 
grand military ball was to be given in the 
city on the 22d of February, and she must 
remain till that was over. At length the 
expected day arrived, and Mary B. made 
her appearance at the ball in a dress of 
exquisite taste but unsuited to the rigor of 
the season. She was the belle of the oc- 
casion. All eyes followed her with admi- 
ration as she moved through the gorgeous 
saloon, and her vanity was fully satisfied 
with the incense of flattery that was ofler- 
ed at the shrine of her beauty. In the 
flush of excitement she emerged from the 
heated atmosphere of the ball room into 
the cold air of a winter's night. The 
next morning she awoke with a cold. She 
wrote to her mother that diiy, that she 
was unwell from a cold which she had 
taken the previous night, but she thought 
it would soon wear off, and she was not 
yet quite ready to return home, as there 
were some other parties in contemplation 
v/hich she wished to .ittend. But this com- 
municution was soon followed by another, 
in which she said she was too much indis- 
posed to enjoy the society of the city, and 
desired that her brother might be sent for 
her She accordingly returned to her na- 
tive village, but not as she had left it.— 
The sunken eye, the sallow complexion, 
and the distressing cough, told too plainly 
that death had marked her as his victim. 
Her health continued to decline, and her 
mother, fully aware of her approaching 
dissolution, was intensely anxious that she 
should give her attention to the subject of 
preparation for the change that awaited 
her. Ministers of the gospel, and pious 
friends, were invited to call and converse 
with her, but she seemed angry whenever 
the subject of religion was introduced. — 
She was displeased if all who approached 
her did not assure her she was looking bet- 
ter and would soon be well. was dis- 
tressing to witness the rebelliDn of her 
heart against that providence by which she 
was laid aside from the gayety she so 
much loved. 
Ab autuB) approached, the phj8ici» 



CLASSIC UNION 



informed her mother tliat she might possi- 
bly live through ano her winter il' she 
were removed to a warmer climate; and, 
in the hope of prolonging the life of her 
child, she immediately made arrange- 
ments to carry her to Florida. In a few 
days Mary B., accompanied by her moth- 
er and brother, was traveling South by 
such stages as her strength would admit. 
About the middle of October they stopped 
for the night in a small town in the south- 
ern part of Virginia. Here Mary B. grew 
suddenly worse. Her mother, greatly 
alarmed, sent for a physician. The phy- 
sician came, but as soon as he entered the 
room he said, '.'Madame, your daughter is 
dying." "Dying!" shrieked Mary. "No, 
I cannot die, — I will not die^— I am not 
prepared to die! — Doctor, you must not 
let me die, — die unprepared! — Oh! it is 
awful ! Why did I not seek religion last 
winter! — Oh, mother, all this comes of 
dancing. If you had not sent me to the 
dancing school I might now have been a 
christian, but dancing has ruined me soul 
and body. — I am lost ! lost forever ! — Oh ! 
mother I — doctor ! — dont, doni let me die ! 
— I will not die !" And these were the 
last words she uttered. Soon the ghostli- 
ness of death, mingled with the horror of 
despair, over^pread her once beautiful fea- 
tures. They laid her in a stranger's grave, 
and returned weeping to their home. 

Reader, if you could look, as I have 
done, into the sorrow-stricken face of that 
heart-broken mother, you would read a 
comment on dancing you could never for- 
get; and you would wish no further an- 
swer to the question, "ought christian pa- 
vents to send their children to the dancing 
school?' MRS. E. M. E. 



touching, more beautiful ? How deli- 
' cat,ely suggested, how well supported, too, 
through ihe three verses, "the pd^allel by 
which she placets liereelf in the circum- 
; stances of- the solitary -wanderer. The 
' last verse is an admirable climax 'to the 
pervading sentiment. 

0, how much better would it be for our 
sufi'ering world, if every "pen of a ready 
writer'' were withdrawn from the venal' 
service of pride and vanity and vainglory, 
I to grave enduringly the hallowed prais6 
of Christ ! A. 

NEABER TO THEE. 

bJ SAJIAH ADAMS. 

Nearer, ray God, to thee — 

KajH-er to thee ! 
E'en though it be a cross 

That raisethnie; 
Still all my song shall be. 
Nearer, my God, to thee — 

Nearer to tliee ! 

Though like a wanderer, 

The sun gone down. 
Darkness comes over me. 

My rest a stone ; 
Yet in my dreams I'd be 
Nearer, my God, to thee — 

Nearer to thee ! 

There let tlie way -appeai' ' 

S'eps unto Heaven ; 
All that thou sendest me 

In inercj' given; 
Angels to beckon rae 
Nearer, my God, to thee — 

Nearer to thee ! 

Then with my waking thoughts. 

Bright with tliy praise. 
Out of niy stony griefs 

Bethel I'll raise ; 
So by my woes to be 
Nearer, my God, to thee — ■ ' 

Nearer to thee ! 

Or if, on joyful wing, 

Cleaving the »ky, 
Sun.jnooM and stars forgot. 

Upwards 1 fly- 
Still all my song shall be, 
Nea-CT, mj' God, to thee — 

Nearer to thee ! 



[For the Classic Union.] 
Bro. Hillsm.a.n: I found the subjoined 
hymn, a day or two past, in the Memphis 
Christian (?) Advocate. Will you give 
it a niche in your museum ? The sweet 
tone of meek pathos and devotion has 
haunted me like the echo of an anfel's 
voice. I wo'iild that more of the lofty 
spirit of sanctified and submissive suffer- 
ing, pervaded the religious writinrrs of 
the present day; for this it is that brin»-s 
ever again into remembrance and attests 
the power of the Cross. 

I know not whether this amiable effu- 
sion b^^Tfrom a distinguished writer or 
otherwise; but I know that it has a merit 
(if the word may be applied to any thing 
human,) far from inferior. The allusion 
to the night in the desert, of the outcast 
and desolate Jacob, what could be mo-re 



lieve a man is fit to be teacher who cannot 
manage his pupils without correcting 
them. He ought to pursuade and coax 
them to do tight. 

)S'c>re.— -He did try coaxing me, but I 
spit in his face. 

Futh.—SYhat did he do then ? 

Son. — Hg slapped me on the side of 
my head till I have not been able to hear 
any thing since. 

Fath. — How can you hear me, then? 

Sun. — He — he — he. — It come almost. 

Futh. — That was outrageous. I- will 
not bear it to have my child treated in 
that way. All the teachers I ever sent to 
are partial. I know my diildren are no 
worse than others. -Son, you may bring 
your books home to-morrow, I will send 
yon to some other school, X. 



[For the Classic Union.] 

A CONVERSATION BETEEN A EATHER 

AND SON. 

Father. — Come here, my son, what has 
been the matter ? what makes your eyes 
so red ? 

Son. — My teacher whipped me: he did, 
and for nothing, too. 

Fath. — Well, he had no business to do 
it; I will teach him better than that; I 
will let him know that he is not to whip 
my boy. What did lie correct you for ? 

Son. — Just because I would'nt mind 
him, that is all. 

■ Fath. — That is no reason why he should 
whip you; your father does not correct 
you for that, and I will see the teaclrer 
and let him know he is not to repeat it, 
and if he does I will take you away and 
send jou to another school, I do not be- 



[ For the Classic Union] 
REMOVE, IF POSSIBLE, YOUR O'^VN DIF- 
FICULTIES. 
. This advice is directed more particular- 
ly to students than to persons of a differ- 
ent vocation, for their sole object is to 
Jearn how to overcome difficulties, and if 
they allow themselves to be stopped by 
"every little impediment there will bene 
good accomplished. Therefore they 
shotild put forth all of their powers, and 
concentrate theirminds on one thing- only, 
until they accomplish it. There are a 
great many things I admit, that we cannot 
do within ourselves, but for the most part 
wemight'do them, if we would use the 
necessary -labor. We have noticed that 
some of our most learned men, have la, 
bored day after day, without an instruc- 
tor. It is impossible for lis to do any 
thing without diffienlties, and it is by over- 
coming these difficulties that intellectual 
strength is gained. Furthermore, you 
may set it down as an estabiished fact, 
that where there is labor, there is sure to 
be success. In conclusion, I would advise 
every student to look out her own ques- 
tions, solve her own problems and aban- 
don this untimely expression, " I can't"' 
and adopt the e.xpression " I will" and she 
will be sure of an education. Ever keep- 
ing in mind that perseverance conquers all 
things. 

' A wag says that Barnum has recently 
enriched his museum with a lock of hair 
from the head of steamboat navigation; 
.also, a blush from the face of the earth, 
and ten yards of the equinoctial line. 

CO" Father Mathew administered the 
temperance pledge to upwards of twelve 
thousand persons during his last visit to 
tjie citv of Xew York. 



CLASSIC CKIOK. 



THE FOREST TREES.— by eiiza cook 

Up with your head-?, ye sylvau lords. 

Wave pronly in the breeze ; 
For our cradle bands and coSjd boards 

Must come fi'oin the trees. 

We bless ye for your summer shade. 
When our weak limbs fail and tire; 

Our thanks are due for your winter aid, 
When we pile the bright log fire. 

Oh! where would be our rule on the sea. 
And the fame of the sailor's baud. 

Were it not for the oak and cloud-croAvned pine 
That sprung ou the quiet land? 

Whei) the ribs and the masts of the good ship 
Vive, 

And weatlierthe gale with ease. 
Take his glass from the tar who will not give 

A health to the forest trees. 

Ye lendto life its earliest joy, 

And wait on its latest page; 
In the circling hoop for the rosy boy. 

And the easy chair for age. 

The old man totters on his way " "* 

With footsteps short and slow. 
But without he stick for his help and stay. 

Kot a yard's length could he go. 

The hazel twig in the stripling^'s hand 

■ Hath magic power to'please;- •- • . . 

And the trust^' staff ancl slendar wand' 
Are plucked from the forest trees. 

THE BIBLE. 
A nation must be trul}' happy, if it i 
governed by no other laws than- thpse of 
this blessed Book. It is a complete sys- 
tem, that nothing can be added to it or 
taken from it; it contains every thing need- 
ful to be known or done; it affords a copy 
for a king, and a rule for a subject. It 
gives instruction to a senate, and direction 
to a magistrate. It cautions 3 witness, 
and requires an impartial verdict Of a 
juiy, and furnishes a judge with a sen- 
tence. It sots the husband as lord of the 
household, and the wife as mistress .of the 
tells her how to rule find how to mariage. 
It entails honor to parents, and enjoins 
obedience upon children. It prescribes 
and limits the sway of the sovereign, the 
rule of the ruler, and the authority of the 
master: commands the subject to honor, 
end the servant to obey; and promises the 
blessing and protection of its Author to 
all that wald by its rules. It gives direc- 
tions for weddings and for burials, and 
promises food and raiment; and limits the 
use of both. It point out a faithful and 
an eternal guardian to the departing hus- 
band and father, tells him with whom to 
leave his fatherless children, and in whom 
his widow is to trust; and promises a fa- 
ther to the former, and a husband to .the 
latter. It teaches a man how he ought to 
set his house in order; and how to make 
his will. It appoints dowry for the wife, 
and entails the right of the first born, and 
shows how the younger branches shall be 
left; it defends the rights of all, and reveals 



vengeance to the defrauder, over-reacher, 
and oppressor. 

It is the first book, the best book, and 
the oldest book in the world.. It contains 
the choicest matter, gives the best jn- 
'stractions, and affords the greatest plea- 
sure and satisfaction that every was re- 
vealed. It contains tie best laws, aiid 
profoundest mysteries that -ever .were 
penned;, it brings the best of tidings, and 
affords the best comfort to the inquirino- 
and disconsolate. It exhibits life and im- 
mortality, and shows the way to everlast- 
ing glory. It is a brief recital of all that 
is past, and a certain prediction of all that 
is to come, it settles all matters in debate, 
resolves all doubts, and eases the mind 
and conscience of all their scruples. It 
reveals the only true God and shows the 
only way to him, through the Lord Jesus 
Christ, and sets aside all other Gods, and 
deseribes-the vanitp of them. In short, 
it is a book of laws to show right and 
wrong, a book of wisdom that condemns 
all folly, and makes the foolish wise, a 
book of truth that detects all lies, and 
confutes all error, and a book of life, that 
shows the Way from everlasting death. — 
It is the most compendious book in the 
world, the most authentic and interesting- 
history that ever was published; it con- 
tains the most early antiquities, strange 
events, wonderful occun-ences, heroic 
deeds, and unparalleled wars. It de- 
scribes the celestial, terrestial, and infer 
nal worlds, human tribes and infernal le^ 
gions, It will instruct the most skillful 
mechanic and the finest artist. It teaches 
the rhetorician and exercises the every 
power of the most expert arithmetician, 
-puzzles the wisest anatomist, and exer- 
cises the nicest critic. It corrects the 
vain philosopher, and guides the wise as- 
stronomer; it exposes the subtle sophist, 
and makes diviners mad. It is a complete 
code of laws, a perfect body of divinity, 
-an unequalled nar.'ative, a book of lives, 
a book of travels, and a book of voyages. 
It is the best covenant that ever was 
agreed upon, the best deed that ever was 
sealed, the best evidence that ever was 
produced, the best will that ever was 
made, and the best Testament that ever 
was signed. To understand it, is to be 
wise indeed; to be ignorant of it, is to be 
destitute of wisdom. It is the king's best 
copy, the magistrates best rule, the house- 
wife's best guide, the servant's best direc- 
tory, and the young man's best compan- 
ion. It is the school-boy's spelling book, 
and the learned man's master piece. It 
contains the best grammar for the novice. 



ajid a profound treatise for the sage. It 
is the ignorant man's directory. ^t af- 
fords knowledge of witty inv€mions for 
the ingenious, and dark sayings for the 
grave; and it is its own interpreter. It 
encourages the wise, the warrior, the ra- 
cer, and the overcomer, and promises an 
eternal reward to the conquerer, and that 
whieh crowns all, is that the author "is 
the God of truth, in whom there is no va- 
riableness or shadow of turnino-." — True 
Union. 



THE CLOCK OF DESTINY. 
" To" e.verything there is a reason, and 
a time to«very purpose under thelieaven." 
As if he had. said. Mortality is a huge 
time-piece wound up by the Almighty 
Maker; and after he has set it agoing, no- 
thing can stop it till the angel swears that 
time shall be no longer. But here it ever 
vibrates and ever advances — ticking one 
child of Adam into existence, and ticking 
another out. Now it gives the whirl of 
warning, and the World may look out for 
some great event; and presently it fulfills 
its warning, and rings in a noisy revolu- 
tion. But there !, as its index travels on sa 
resolute and tranquil, what tears and rap- 
tures attend its progress ! It was only 
another wag of the sleepless pendulum; 
but it was fraught with destiny, and a for 
tune was made — a heart was broken — an 
empire fell. We cannot read the writing 
on the mystic cogs as they are coming 
slowly up; but each of them is coming on 
God's errand, and carries in graven brass 
a divine decree. Now, however^ — now 
that the moment is past, we know; and ia 
the fulfillment we can read the fiat. This 
instant was to say to Solomon, " Be born!'" 
this other was to say to Solomon in all his- 
glory, "Die!" That instant was tc^ 
"plant" Israel in Palestine; that other was. 
to " pluck him up." -And thus, inevitable, 
inexorable, the great clock of human des- ■ 
tiny moves on", till a mighty hand shall 
grasp its heart and hush for ever its pulse 
of iron. 

See how fixed, how fated is each viscis- 
situde ! how independent o.f human con- 
trol ! There is " a time to be born," and 
however much a man may dislike the era 
on which his existence is cast, he cannot 
help himself: that time is his, and he must 
make the most of it. Milton need not 
complain that his lot is fallen on evil days' 
for those are his days, and he can have no 
other. Roger Bacon and Galileo need not 
orudge their precious being, that they 
have been prematurely launched into the 
age of inquisitors and knowledge-quench- 



CLASSIC UNION. 



79 



ino- monks — for this age was made to hiake 
them. And so with the time to die. — 
Voltaire need not oifer half his fortune to 
buy six weeks* reprieve; for if the^ ap^ 
J)ointed inoment has arrivedj it cannot 
jpass mM et'ertiily without takingihe scep^ 
tic with it. And eVeb good Hezekiah — 
his tears and prayers would not have turn- 
ed the shadow backward, had; that mo- 
ment of threatened death been the rno- 
ment of God's intention. Yes, there js a 
time to die; and though we speak of an 
MJitimely end, nu one ever died a moment 
sooner than God designed, norlr\'ed a mo- 
ment longer. And so there is a time to 
plant. That impulse comes on the man 
■of fortune, and he lays out his spacious 
3awn, and stxids it with massive trees: and 
lie plants his garden, and in sod it imbeds 
the rarest and richest flowers, or he piles 
lip little mounts of blossomed shrubbery, 
till the place is dazzled with bright tints 
and dizzy with perfume. And that im- 
pulse fades away, and in the ticklenc?sof 
sated opulence the whole is rooted up and 
converted into wilderness again. Or by 
his own or a successor's fall, the region is 
doomed to destruction; and when strang- 
ling nettles have chocked the geraniums 
and the lilies, and, crowded into atropoy. 
the lean plantations grow tall and branch- 
less, the axe of an enterprising purchaser 
clears the dark thickets away, ' and his 
ploughshare turns \ip the weetly parterre. 
There is a time when to interfere'wilh dis- 
ease is to destroy; when to touch the pa- 
tient is to take his life; and there is a- time 
ivhen the simplest medicine will effect a 
marvelous cure. There is a time when 
the invader is too happy to dismantle the 
fortress which so long kept him at bay; but 
by-and-by, when he needs it as a bulwark 
to his own frontiers, with iriight and main 
he seeks to build it up again. Nor can 
any one fix a day and say, I shall spend 
that day merrily, or I must spend it mourn- 
fully. The day fixed for the wedding 
may prove the day for the funeral ; and the 
ship which was to bring back the absent 
brother, may only bring his coffin. On 
the other hand, the day we had destined 
formou.ining, God may turn to dancing, 
and may gird it with iaresistible gladness. 
— :Dr. Hamilton. 



[From New-York Tribune.] 
THE SEAMSTRESS, 
She walked along, with figure slightly bent, 

And something in her hand; 
I know not wliere she went. 
But a little grain of sand; 
Brought a-tear into mv eye; 

'Passing by. 

Her eve* were blue, but tinted with a white. 

Or rather with a grav, 
Thivt banishad all delight. 

All their brilliaucy away — 
Showing plainly that s,he wept, 
' When she slept. 

Her bonnet, witliits faded silk, was old; 

Her shawl was sliglitly torn 
She never handled gold. 

But like others,. forlorn. 
Earned and paid her wealth in pence — 
^ Dimes and cenis. 

Her features were so pitifully sad, 

Tliat any one could see 
Her brain was almost mad 

With ilie curse of poverty — 
That there dwelt a little ghoul 
■ In her soul! 

Perhaps she did not see me when I passed— 

I would no have her know 
That a slanger's eye-had cast 

Such a look upon her wo; 
But I never can-fdVget 

When we mef. 
BALTiMOEi:,Md., Oct. 1, 1851,. 



ifested themselves; few in wliich one can 
find a better sermon on the vanity of all 
this earth contains. • But I will not re- 
peat the sermon as it was silenlly preached 
to me. 



Leigh Hunt, in his reminiscences, relates 
that Coleridge, upon the death of the mas- 
ter i)f a school he had attended when a 
boy, remarked: "It was lucky that the 
cherubims who took him to heaven were 
nothing but faces and wings, or he would 
infallibly^ have flogged them on the way." 



GREENWOOD CEMETERY. 
Correxijondenve of the Senior Editor of the 
Fuyetleville Observer to his jjartner. 
A <lay or two ago, whilst in New York, 
I visited Gieenwood, the beautiful ceme- 
tery, situated some two or three miles 
from the city; and was astonished to see 
how r,:pidly that great city of the dead 
had extended its miinsions,*f\nd of course 
its tenants. There have probnbly been 
liftv thousand bodies depo>i,ed there with- 
in the ten or twelve years since it was laid 
out, and in fifty years more the dead of 
Greenwood will be more than the present 
living population of N-ew York. It is not 
possible to describe, and hardly to con- 
ceive, the beauty, natural and artificial— 
especially natural — of the place. Its 
never-ending variety of hill and vale, of 
tree and slirub and flower and grass, of 
fotintain and lake, of grove and garden, of 
winding walks and broad avenues , of 
views of river and ocearn, of city and vil- 
lage, are beyond my powers of descrip- 
tion. And then the graves. Side by 
side the rich aild poor, the former, with 
massive marble vaults, or towering col- 
umns, the latter unadorned, or only with 
a few flowers or green grass. There are 
single tombs there upon which thousands 
of dollars have been expended. One es- 
pecially, which I am sure could not have 
costless than ten thousand dollars, records 
the death of a beautiful young lady, on 
her seventeenth birth day, by a fall from 
a carriage. It has white marble statues, 
of a female figure and of two kneeling 
angels, themselves superb works of art, 
and every other imaginable adornment 
of carved marble, with a small garden of 
the rarest roses and shrubbery. Alto-, 
gether there are few such spots in this 
country as Greenwood — few in which love 
and affection, wealtli and pride, and a 
desire for display have more clearly man- 



Fast Eating. — -A writer in a late num- 
ber of the Phrenological Journal, upon 
the application of epicurean philosophy, 
concludes as follows: 

Sometimes, when I see men bolting 
down their food in such hot haste, I feel 
like exclaiming. What a pity, that man, 
who ought to be the wisest of God's crea- 
tures, should thus viiolate every dictate of 
wisdom and organic law, and poison his 
sysiem by suffering, until he becomes a 
poor broken-hearted dyspeptic. 

Let your present sufferings teach you 
how to eat in future; or if you are too idi- 
otic learn, sin and sufl'er on, and be miser- 
able still: -and let it be forever remember- 
ed that no man does or can sufl'er, until or 
unless he has sinned. 

"But,'' it is objected,, "I have tried my 
utmost to refrain from fast eating, and find 
myself unable to do so." Then try the 
nlle involved in this- article. You mis- 
take, by supposing that you are to restrain 
this gormandizing propensity by force of 
will.' You take tJie wrong means. This 
so desirable an end is to be attained, first, 
by dismissing all thoughts Of business 
from your mind, when you sit down to ta- 
ble, sitting down just to enjoy the hixurj' 
of the present hour; dismissing everything 
else, putyourself into a calm state, and, 
stopping short, eat not a mouthful until 
your flurried fever has cooled down. 

You do not feed your horses when in a 
period of excitement; then why feed your- 
self when over excited either by business 
or muscular labor? Cool off first, if it 
takes you an hour; then begin by taking 
small mothfuls, the size only of a bean or 
chesnut, and smacking your lips over the 
flavor, and tasting how good it is, and 
stopping to enjoy each mouthful; and this 
rich taste of your food will, of itself, draw 
off your mind from your business haste; 
whereas, if you sit down in your hurried 
sfate of mind, and do not direct your at- 
tention to flavor, no earthly power can 
prevent your eating too fast. 

This rule inadvertently, but eff'ectually 
contains another, to prevent over-eating, 
namely: — Stop eating as soon as your 
food lias lost its rich, fine, luscious flavor; 
that is, as soon as you have to, coa-^e an 
appetite, by putting on rich gravies, con- 
diments, &c.; a rule directly in the teeth 
of that very bad dietio habit of eating 
pastries, pies, and rich puddings, &c. — 
Lastly, always begin your meals on the 
daintiest article; partly because, after ap- 
petite has been once sated, tore-kindle it 
by rich food is doubly bad; first, on aC' 
count of the food, and secondly, because 
of its being eaten when the stomach is al' 
readv overloaded; a remark which must 
strike the common sense of every one who 
has this scarce article, at least an article 
seldom brought to the table. 



Never tell vour secrets to a frienJ. 



so 



CLASSIC iJKiOi<. 



THE WIFE'S APPEAL.— BT w. c. bennctt. 
Oh, don't go to-night, John! 

Now husband don't go in! 
To spend our only shilling, John, 
■ Would he a cruel sin. 
There's not a loaf at home, John; 

There's not a coal yon know; 
Though with hunger I am faiat, John,- 

And cold^conies down the snow: 
Theii dou't go in to-night! 

Ah, John yoii must remember. 

And, John, 1 can't forget. 
When never foot of yours,, John, 

Was in the alehouse set. 
Ah, those wen^ happy times, John; 

No quarrels then we knew. 
And none were happier in our lane. 

Than I. dear John, and you: 
Then doat go in to.-nighl! 

You will not go! John, John, I mind, 
• When we were courting, few 
Had arms as strong,. or step as firm, 

Or cheek as red as you 
But drink has stokn your strength, John, 

And paled your cheek to white. 
Has tottering inadeyour once firm tread. 

And boV\ed your manly height; 
You'll not ijo iu to-night I 

You,ll liot go in?lhrnk an the day 

That-made me, -John, your wife,\ 
What pleasant talk that day we had 

Of all our future life! 
Of how your steady earnings, John, 

No w,asting should con--ume. 
But weekly some new comfur, bring 

To deck our happy room; 
Then, don't_.go in to-night! 

. ToSee^us, John, as then we dressed. 

So tidy, clean and neat, 
Brouglit'out all. eyes to follow as 

As we went down the street. 
Ah, little thought our neighbors then. 

And we as little thought, 
That ever John, to rags like these • 
By driuk we should be brought! i. 
You won't go in to-night 

An. I will you go? If not for me. 

Yet for your baby .staj'V 
You know, John, not a taste of foo<l 

Has passed my lips to day; 
And tell your father, little one, 

'Ti,s mine your life hangs on. 
You will not spend the slullin>, John? 

You'll gi.ve it liim? Cojue John, 
Come home with us to-nigh. V 

Du Tbemrleh's Combined Vapor En- 
GirrB.— All engine of this kind is now at 
the Novelty Works. It consists of two 
ordinary steam engines, one of them ac- 
ted upon by steam and the second b}' va- 
por of perchloride of lime, which heated^ 
by steam escaping from the first, gives a; 
power which costs nothing. After the 
steam has worked in the first engine it 
goes to a tubuhir condenser, in which, in 
condensing itself, it vaporizes the perchlo- 
ride, which after working the second, is 
itself condensed by water in ano her tubu- 
lar condenser. The two principles which 
serve as a basis in this operation are: 1st. 
The perchloride is vaporized at a tempera^ 
tu re much lower than that necessary to 
transform water into steain. 2d. The 
heat contained in steam is absorbed by the 
perchloride with a rapidity considerably 
greater than it would be by water. We 
believe that no opinions of any worth have 
yet been expressed on the subject of this 
invention, but when the decisive experi- 
ments shall have taken place, they will not 
be wantinx- 



OBITUARY. 

Died — In Nashville, on the 5th of September 
in her23thyear, Miss Ei.iz.1 Jane Stevens, second 
daughter of the la.: e Mr. Jas. S. Stevens formerly 
of N. C. ■ 

Life is not to be measured by the %w or the 
many fleeting houre, which may compcse the time 
of our mortal exi^teiu:e, but by'lhe u.se to which 
it is applied; and tliat young person, (as wa.s the 
case with Eliza Jane) wlio has given the raoniing 
of her days to God. and whose sun has gone 
down at noon day," ha.s indeed lived longer than 
the man who has arrived at 'the mo^t protracted 
period of huinau existence, without aitendiug 
to the eoiicerijs of ihesoul Accoidingly an in- 
dividual may be >:ih\ t.i liave arrived at a full 
age, wiihoiu iil'ercnce to actual duration who 
.^liall righily conceive am! rightly follow the 
grand object aud end of the present life. Thus 
died our jouiLg friend, whooe late de'parture we 
have noticed .-ibove. 

For tic-r age. few have ever given mpre undoubt- 
ed evidiMti; of eaijy fjietv, andof devoied zeal in 
the -er. ice of i!ii; divine" Lord and Savioiir. She 
po-.-e-seu in ail eiiniunt degree that ornaiiieiit, 
I priinoiiiicrd of sucli great pnce "the ornament of 
] a meik aiul quiet .-p.rit *' She was not forward, 
but meekly con-pieioiis U-, every'christian grace 
I and virtue, ihus ailuriugniore by her example, 
t than by her word^, ' ' ' 

Her eiidowin 'Hi- of mind, both natural, and 
I accQulred, were of far iiio;e tiuiii ordinary com 
prehension, and yet like ",he rose born to blush 
; unseen," butfen;per.50iis comparatively speaking 
twing toiler litiriHg nioiloiy liad learned to ap- 
.i precale eillieFherineirai euliiva.ion.orher moral 
j worth. - To ihis laMjiid ll w , however, she was 
anobji'Ctof iiiieresi and anieijon; with tliein dear- 
i-Tv'nlemberod cla--iiiaies, hertrne value was ntit 
! only known, out mo i fondly appreciated — 
; Memory with the e, will often awea on the name 
', and vir.ues of the deceased Eliza, nor will that 

j name or virtues ever be forgotten by them 

I But most of all, do we synij)a;lii>e with her wid- 
.QWrd mother, In ab.rcavi.nient s.i full of sadnes , 
, to lier doe]rly -mitieii heart. Nor is it less 
1- full of .^adiiess, to three si^ters and two broth- 
ers, of whom, it* may be said, that i^ sisters 
I or brothers, were more fondly attached to a sis- 
i ter, than were iliey to her who-se loss they now 
I mourn. But l hey all weep for themselves aud 
not for her. They know she is not dead, but 
sleepeth, and iheir cmi-olation is that though 
she caiiuo: come back to them, they may be per- 
mitted to go to her. The church <rf her coiu- 
niunion (the Presbyterian) by her death, has lo-.t 
one of iiS-b.-ightesi orn.iments, but she has gone 
to join the swelling anthems of the church tri- 
umphajit. . 

ON THE DE.\TH OF MISS ELIZA J. SThVENS. 

She sleeps ill maiden purily, 

Like some sweet blighted flower. 
That brealhed its fragrance at the dawn. 

Yet died ere noontide's hour: 
Or like some star, that softly fades 

Amid the azure sky. — 
How could we deem that one so dear. 

So beautiful could die! 
For she .vas loved as few are loved 

Fond hearts with her's were bound. 
Her gentle words and winning smiles 

Shed peace on all around. 
But never more, like siuia- bright dream 

Of loveliness she'll ceme. 
And with her songs of love and hope. 

Make glad her childhood's home. 
Yet oh. how oft at dewy eve. 

The hour she loved i-'o well, 
We'll vainly listen for her voice. 

Whose silveiy swccliiessfell 
Upon our hearts like spirit tones. 

From one so young and dear — 
But death has touched those rosy lips. 

Their music now is o'er. 
And thus she calmly died, whilst light 

From heaven shone on her brow. 
And with Seraphic hosts above. 

Her harp is sounding now. 
And though around her lowly tomb 

Affection fondly weeps. 
We will look up in faith — for here, 

Eliza only sleeps! 
Nashville, Sept, 1S51. CwE.i. 



C^iyxjcrti0cm£ut0. 



HOUSE FURNISHIfiG STORE, 

Comer of Deaderick .S(. and the Square, 

NASHVILLE, TENN., 

RE. FLRICI would respectfully inform the 
• citizens of Murfreesborough and Rutlier- 
foid County that he has opened and is con- 
stantly receiving, a general assortment of 
House Keeping Articles, 
consisting part in eveiy description of Table 
and Kitchen Furniture, Chafing Dishes, Tea aud 
Coffee Urns, Tea and Coffee Pots, Trays and 
Waiters, Brass Andirons, Shovels and "Tongs; 
Wooden and WilioAV Ware; Looking Glasses; 
Clocks-, Lamps, Brushes, and a great many other 
Useful articles too numerous to mention. 

The subscriber solicits an examination of his 
Stock when visiting Nashville, feeling confi- 
deiH that he can fill demands in his liue. All 
orders promptly executed. 

ovl-Lf R. E. ULRICI. 



FINE ^VA'a'CHES & JEWELRY. 

A. O. 11. P. SEHORN, 

Public Square, Nashville, Tenn., 
g3? RESPECTFULLY informs his friends 

^'^\^ and customers in Rutherford that he has 
5j^i^ now on hand a splendid stock of 
WATCHES, JEWELRY, &c., 
to wliich he would invite particular attention. 
He has fine Gold and Silver Tv'atclies at almost 
any price. 

He invites his old friends in Rutherford to 
call and see him when they visit Nashville. 

Orders punctually filled. All kinds of Re- 
pairing, Jobbing, and Manufacturing in his line 
done at the shortest notice. oc25 



JOKDAIV & WRIGHT, 

DRY GOODS MERCHANTS, 

South Side Public Square, 

4-y MURFREESBOROUGH, TENN. 



D. W. TAYLOR, 

Bcioli Qiiii Sob |3viuter, 

Sonth-west Corner Public Square, 

4-y MURFREESBOROUGH, TENN. 




Uemovoi autl Fresh Drugs. 

JOS. W. NEl.SO^ 

Has removed his DRUG STORE 
from the North side of the square to 
the room lately occupied by Moore & 

______ Currin, which lias receutly been fitted 

up expressly for }iis business, where he would 
be pleased to see his old friends and the pub- 
lic generally. 

He has just received a large lot of fresh Drugs 
and Medicines, Oils, Faints, bye-stuffs, 4c., which 
makes his stock tlie largest and most complete 
ever offered in the market. Also, a gjreat variety 
of fancy articles, perfumery, hair oils, brushts, 
soaps, ic, which he is offering low. / 

Physicians and others wishing to purchase .will 
please examine his stock, as it embraces nearly 
every thing in the medical line. 

ThankfiTl to the people of ilurfrecsborpugh 
and Rutherford county for the very liberal pat- 
ronage he has received, he solicits a continuance 
of the same, promising that every oare andatten- 
tion shall be given to accommodate them with tlie 
best and purest of medicines. 

Orders from a distance, for Drugs, itc, put up 
with great care. dce21-tf 

TEEMSS 

The Classic Union will be published on the 
first and fifteenth of each month, at One Dol-. 
LAK per year, invariably in advance. Address 
M. HiLLSMAN, post paid. 

Printed by D. W. TAYLOR, at the office of 
the Ruthcrford_ Telenrajih, South-west Corne.I ftt 
tlia Sc^uar^. " " ■* . 





DEVOTED TO RELIGIOK, -LITERATURE, AND- GENE RAL INTELLiqENCE. 



VOL. I. 



MURFREE3B0R0UGH, DECEMBER 1, 18-31. 



NO. 6. 



[For the Classic TJniou. J 
FEMALE EDUCATrON, No. 3. 

A few evenings since I had the pleasure 
of conversing with a highly intelligent and 
talented physician, who had just returned 
from a party. Some remarks of his on the 
subject of female attire, suggested by what 
he had seen at the part}', made a deep 
impression on my mind and I regretted that 
every mother, and every mother's daugh- 
ter in our land could not have heard them. 
He said he had seen delicate looking fe- 
males with dresses thin as gossamer and so 
made as to leave the arms and neck with: 
out even a covering of gossamer to protect 
them, standing before open doors, while 
an exceedingly cold and damp wind blew 
directly upon them. And those very la- 
dies had probably passed the day at home, 
by warm fires, in thick worsted dresses 
with high necks and long sleeves, and ve- 
ry likely with the addition of a sack or 
cape. He said it was perfectly astonishing 
to him that mothers should permit their 
daughters to risk their health and lives by 
such needless and reckless exposure. He 
then went on to speak of the exceedingly 
small number of healthy females in our 
country, which number is rapidly dimin- 
ishing. He said that foreigners are proph- 
esying that our nation will become extmct 
rn a few generations, in consequence of 
the physical deterioration of its females. — 
Such a result we have indeed reason to 
apprehend unless a change is effected in 
the habits of our young women. 

Young ladies seem to fancy that they are 
somehow rendered more attractive by go- 
ing into company in a state of partial nu- 
dity, but this is a great mistake, for 
though the vicious may be the more eager 
to gaze upon them, yet with right minded 
and reflecting persons all admiration is lost 
in pity for their extreme weakness and fol- 
ly. How many young and lovely females, 
who, w^th propei attention to the physical 
laws under which they were created, 
might have lived long to swell the sum of 



-iiuriian happiness^ are annually borne to 
their graves as "victims at the shrine of 
fashionable folly. And the number is still 
o-reater of those who by repeated expo- 
sures and violations of physical law, lay 
the foundation of chronic disease and that 
general feebleness of constitution by which 
life is rendered little more than a lingering 
death. Where is the grave yard which 
does not contain the monuments of many 
whose death cold was contracted at the 
fashionable evening party? What com- 
munity does not contain within its bosom 
many a female, condemned to a living en- 
tombment, shut out from all the enjoy- 
ments of life, by the accumulated effects 
of fashionable dressing ? There can be no 
doubt that in our county alofle, much as we 
boast of our independiwice, and enlighten- 
ed and christian as we claim to be, more 
victims fall annually at the shrine of fash- 
ion than are sacrificed to all the idols in 
the Heathen world. 

But says one what has all this to do with 
the subject of female education, which 
stands at the head of this article ? Much 
every way, since the above facts show be- 
yond a question the necessity of a higher 
standard of female education. It is only 
by a higher degree of intellectual cultiva- 
tion that females are to be rendered supe- 
rior to a blind obedience to the senseless 
dictates of fashion. Let the powers of 
their minds be thoroughly cultivated and 
expanded, let them be taught to reason 
correctly and trace effects to their causes 
and they will no longer feel compelled to 
do precisely as others do. They will claim 
the liberty to judge for themselves as to 
what is most in accordance with the dic- 
tates of sound reason. It is of little avail 
that physicians and others tell young la- 
dies that it is injurious to health to com- 
p;ess the chest. But let them be thor- 
oughly instructed in the principles of Phys- 
iology, let them understand clearly the 
important office the lungs perform in the 
animal economv, and how it is tha. 



through them, the blood is brought-in con- 
tact with the vital principle of the atmos- 
phere and thereby purified and rendered 
capable of imparting vitality to every part 
of the system. Let them learn from va- 
rious sources the perfect adaptation of 
means to an end through all the works of 
nature and they will readily believe that 
the room assigned to the lungs by the 
Creator is no more than is actually needed 
for the proper performance of the life giv- 
ing functions of that vital organ and they 
will be afraid to compress it within nar- 
rower limits. 

Again let them be acquainted with the 
structure and uses of the skin and under- 
stand how the sudden closing of the pours 
upon the surface, throws back^upon the 
internal organs those poisonous exhala- 
tions which were designed to be thrown off 
from the system by means of the sk' 
'and they will be afraid to expose any part 
of the surface which is ordinarily protect- 
ed, to the direct action of a cold damp at- 
mosphere. The laws of their being, if 
clearly understood by them, will be re- 
garded as of higher authority than tht; 
laws of fashion. 

No woman should be ignorant of the 
physical laws under which she is createc" 
since upon obedience to these laws deper, 
the physical well-being and even the pe' - 
petuity of our race. But a considerab 
amount of mental culdvation is requisi 
before these laws can be fully comprehend- 
ed. Place an approved work on Physiol- 
ogy in the hands of a young girl whose 
mind has never been di>?cip]ined by the 
study of Mathematics and Languages and 
she will tell you that she cannot see any 
sense in it, and such indeed will be tl^e 
fact. For want of previous discipline 
her mind is incapable of grasping tie 
principles, and the facts make but a slight 
impression, which is soon tntirely erased. 
But let the minds of our young females be 
ihoroughly trained by application to Malh- 
62 a ies and Lanffna c and in this m°"n- 



CLASSIC UNION. 



ner a foundation will be laid xipon which 
a pernitinont, ;»,na usoful superstructure o, 
knovvle.iye may bi? rean'cl. This is the 
true menns of overthrowing the t3.ranr,y 
of fasiiiun ;iiid reselling our race from Uit 
exiinetiun which threatens it. 

Mrs. E. M. E. 



my earlies recollection, I had an insatiable contempt. No one is willing to become 



A PIOUS MOTHER'S INFLUENCE. 

About three j-ears ago I became ac- 
(|uainted wilh a 3-ound man who was then 
twenty-five -years of age. He had been 
justly driven from all gflod..''aciely as one 
of the vilest of the vile, and .that ' time 
truly the "pebbles on which he walked 
migl'.t have reproached his meanness, and 
the dastard ewl njight have 1 ooted his 
degredaiion," for 1 do not remember ever 
to have seen a more blasphemouslj' Avipked 
and profane, — and, to all appearances, a 
TO'ire degraded and worthlessman. 

Itsn ha^ppened on a certain occasion 
that I, by chance fell in company will 
him, much ag.iinsi; 1113' o,vn will too, for 
hisprofani y was quite disgusting to me. 
Perhaps for the lirst time -during many 
months he happened that day to be sober. 
As I couLl no: prudently avoid it, I enter- 
ed int'i conversation with hira, and soon 
di covered that he was. an elegant schola . 
Curio-ity now led me to inquire into the 
liistory of his past life, fur notwithstand- 
ing his deep degredation and shame, his 
free and easy, yet very elegant conver- 



sadon, his great ability in the use of lan- 
gu-ige, together wi.h his massive Phre- 
nological developement, evinced superior 
intellectual powers, and upon his noble 
forehead were visibly marked the eviden- 
caj of true greatness. My inquiries evi- 
dently caused disagreeable reflectio.is in 
his own mini, far he instantly became 
serious and thoughtful, and his cheek 
grew pale. He readily consented, how- 
ever, to gratify my curiosity, and com- 
menced a narration of his history from 
childhool. He spoke wi.h great fluency 
and elegance, and as I had requested him, 
and he had agreed, to use no profanity in 
this narration, 1 never heard anything 
more interesting. "My parents," said he, 
"were quite wealthy, and I was brogh; 
wp in the most magnificent splendor. As 
I was their only child they were quite in- 
dulgent to me, and generally permi tjd 
me to have my own way in everything, 
and gave me almost anything I would ask 
of them. Tliey manifested much anxiety 
about me, and nothing that wealth could 
purchase, or the most fond parents coulJ 
devise to render me happy, was left wil.li- 



t'lirst for knowledge, and my father deter- 
anned to .give me a good educr-tion. This 
was my greatest desire, and for tliis, much 
as .1 loved my mother, I ^was -willing 
lO^iore^o all the pleasures, her-'company 
aflorded:" me, and continue year after 
year at college. Like Moses on the 
top of Mount Pisgah, looking out upon the 
promised land; when I was quite small I 
used to stany afar ofi'- and gaze with ex- 
qtiisilie delight upon thfc lofty summit of 
the Hill of Sdence, and long to ascend its' 
lUggetl heights that I might be the -happy 
possessor of its oxhaustless . treasures. — r 
ftio great was my ardor for an educat;on 
thatl-coiild, with pleasure, meet and com-, 
bat every difficulty that_ opppsed. my on- 
ward mar^-h in its. pursuit. When I was 
fifipen years of age my father- died, and 
I was tqkcn'Jrom schaol .to stay with niy 
mOthe^r, In a short time my name began 
to bespoken with praise, as a sfcerady, nior- 
al young man. At that period of my 
lift I thought much upon the subject of 
religion, but at length, hke many other 
thoughtless boys, I endeavoured to banish 
it from. my mind until I sliould become 
older, and afier a. time it entirely ceased 
to occupy my thaughts. And eighteen 
months after the death of my father, my 
mo'her also died and left me alone. My 
falht-r entertalHing a high opinion of me, 
at his death, made no pjovision to have a 



guardian appointed for me until I shoulJ 
become of age, consequently at my mo- 
ther's death all his propertj' fell into my 
hands. At this age I stood as fair in so- 
ciety as any young man of my acquain- 
tance, but unfortunately I fell into bad 
company that led me on step by step in 
forbidden paths, first into habits of intoxi- 
cation, and then to the gaming table, 
where, in a few short iiTonths, I lost all 
my large patrimonial' estate, and was 
brownout at nineteen years of age upon 
the charities of a cold and selfisli world — 
a ban7cnq;t. When I awoke to reflection, 
I had lost my property, my character, my 
elevated position in society, and every- 
thing-else that should have been held sa- 
cred and dear to me on- earth. I felt that 
I was ruined, that I was undone forever, 
and in the depth of despair I gave myself 
up to habitual intoxication as the only hope 
of suppressing the deep pangs of remorse 
that raged in iny bosome. From that 
time to this my life has been one continued 
scene cf folly and dissipation, and now 
you know where I stand in society. Even 
my destroyers -who led me on to ruin, now 



uut atl«'auoa. Fortunately fvr mc, irom spnrne me from tlieru with tke utmost 



my associate except those of the very lo-w- 
est charcters." Here he paused, and I 
saw the burning blush of shame dye his 
cheek as he turned away Irom me to con- 
ceal his emotion. 

■ -I never lose all hope of a young man's 
redemption, however deep may be his 
degredation, until the last blush has dyed 
his cheek and he can relate his own fool 
deeds with a countcnaiice unchanged. 

He was much affected, and I could not 
but sympathize with him, for I knew his 
last remarks to be true. 

I knew that the history he had given 
me of himself, in which he had contrasted 
the past with the present, was enough to 
affect .him, yet I could not but believe 
that his emotions were greatly heightened 
from some secret spring of which he had 
not told me. Rather suspecting their 
source, I endeavored to ascertain the fact 
and began by asking him if his mother 
was a professor of religion ? 

."Yes," said he, "and my father too, 
and a thousand times when I was a small 
boy, has my mother taken me into her 
her own room in secret, and there, wilh 
all the fervency of her pious soul, liKs she 
prayed for me, while tears fellin showers 
upon my head as I knelt before her. — 
Likewise my father. Oh! how often have 
I heard hira, during his devotional exer- 
cises in the family circle, most earneslly 
pray for me, that I should never forget 
his counsels and run into forbidden patlis, 
and thus bring the reproaches of infamy 
upon my own head; and now where have 
I brought myself? How vainly, how 
foolishly, how madly, have I acted ! and 
how have I requited the tenderness, the 
affection, and the unremitted anxiety of 
the best and fondest of parents ; I have 
dishonered the dead." 

He could proceed no further — his man- 
ly heart swelled with emotions that cho- 
ked his utterance, and he gave vent to his 
feelings by convulsive sobs as if his heart 
would break, while the large tears traced 
each other in rapid succession down his 
cheeks. I was much affected, for his tears 
seemed to flow from his very heart. Wai- 
ting until his first bursts of giief had 
somewhat subsided, I urged him in the 
name of her whose prayers had so often 
been sent up to the Throne of Grace in 
his behalf, that the very evils which had 
then overtaken him might be averted, to 
abandon the intoxicating draught, and re- 
turn to the paths of rectitude and < uty. 
I assured him that society would again 
receive him as soon as his rx-'formauon 
was perceived. 



CLASSIC UNIOif, 



1^ 



"I am willing," said he; "to do any- 
thiniT consistent with the honof of my de- 
parted mother, to be again admitted into 
good societv, but I fear it is impossible to 
Bde ever again to be lespeeted as I have 
been." 

I told him it wils not at all impossible, 
and only suggested to him the way — that 
night I saw him become a Son of Temper 
ranee, and in a few w^eks I saw him a 
HAPPr Christian 1 In a short time he 
became an ornament to the church, and 
he is now aa able and distinguished min- 
ister of the Gospel ! He, has since told 
me that it was partly the recollection of 
his father's prayers, but particularly his 
mother's tears, that brought him to his 
sober senses, and effected his reformation. 
These circumstances I am permitted to 
publish, but not the name. 

^y. c. G. 

Murfrecshorovgh, Xov. 1851. 

The Repj-y of a Rum-seller. — Not 
long since a man made this proposition to 
a doggery keeper : "Suppose my boy had 
contracUid this habit of drinking. In all 
eoher respects he is all I could desire; but 
by this habit he has destroyed my com- 
fort, and his mother looks heart-broken. 
There, look at him, he is st'ggering at the 
steps. My God ! can that bloated, blos- 
somed thing be my son ? He staggers in 
where his mother is ! Can you measure 
lier anguish, as she sees her first-born a 
sot? Well, now, let me suppose that some 
kind friend has reached his heart, and he 
giues up his cups. All is gladness in our 
house. He is once more all that we could 
desire in our son ; but some companion 
e.xcites his lust for drink. The appetite 
craves them with the power of an un*^- 
med demon. They come to your coun- 
ter and ask for brandy. You know the 
consequence — that my son will become 
two fold more the child of held than be- 
fore, and that my family will again be 
plunged into the deepest grief. Would 
you sell him brandy under these circum- 
stances?" The keeper of the Dorrrrery 
replied, "Yes, I would, if he had monei 
TO PAY FOB IT." "Then you are a 
scoundal of the first water, and deserve a 
halter," was the reply of the individual, 
and there is an instinctive feeling of the 
heart which says "Amen" the apparently 
severe words. 



In Chaucer's work, there are at least 
thirty thousand verses, which may be said 
to be dedicated to love. 



The dead exceed five fold the minutes 
elnc^ tht crcatian. 



For the Classic Union. 
A PBETTT STORY FOR OHIiDBEN. 

Messrs. Editors : The following beau- 
tiful little story I find without credit. It 
teaches a valuable lesson to the young,— 
Would that every Jittle boy and girl were 
like True Duncan ! — how oft would the 
mother's heart swell wLlh pride as she 
beholds the tender buds blossoming into 
manhood and usefulness. And yet it is 
within the gift of every mother to learn 
her children the ways of truth— to inspire 
them with feelings of the most lofty char- 
acter. The example must be given at 
home — around her own fire-side must the 
mother teach her jewels the great neces- 
sity for truth in afl things, and more es- 
pecially must her own conduct be honest 
and upright before her children. 

Mary. 

Trub Dckcan akd the Cat. — Once 
there was, a little boy named Duncan. — 
The boys u.sed to call him True Duncan, 
because he never would tell a lie. 

One day he was playing with an axe in 
the yard of the school, and while he was 
chopping a stick, the teacher's cat, Tabby, 
came along. 

Duncan let the axe fall right on poor 
Tabby's head and killed her. 

What to do he did not know. She was 
a pet of the master's, and used to sit on a 
cushion at his side, while he was hearing 
his lessons. 

Duncan stood and looked at the dead 
creature. His face grew red, and the 
tears stood in his eyes. 

All the boys came running up, and eve- 
ry one had something to say. One of 
them whispered to the others — 

" Now, fellows, we shall see whether 
Duncan can makeup a fib as well as the 
rest of us." 

"Not he," said Thomas Peofey, who 
was Duncan's friend. " Not he. 111 war- 
rant you, Duncan will be as true asg'old." 

John Jonep stepped up, and taking the 
cat by the tail, said— 

" Here, boys, I'll just fling her into the 
alley, and we can tell Mr. Cole that the 
butcher's dog killed her; you know that 
he worried her last wcc-k." 

Several of them thought this would be 
very well. But Duncan looked quite an- 
gry. His face swelled, and his cheeks 
grew redder than before. 

"No," said he, " no ! Do you suppose 
I would lie for such a creature as that ? — 
It would be a lie, a lie." 

And each time he said the word his voice 
grew loader. 



Then he picked up the poor thing in his 
arms, and carried it into the school room; 
and the boys followed to see what would 
happen. 

The master looked up and said — 

"What is thi-s? My faithful inouser 
dead ? Who could have done me such ai> 
injury." 

' All were silent for a little while. As 
soon as Duncan could get his voice, he 
said — 

" Mr. Cole, I am very sorry — but here 
is the truth. I can't lie, sir — I killed 
Tabby. But I am very sorry for it. I 
ought to hav&been careful, for I saw her 
rubbing her side against the log. I ani 
very sorry, indeed, sir." 

Every one expected to see Mr. Cole 
take down his long rattan. But he put on 
a pleasant smile and said— 

"Duncan, you are a brave boy ! I saw 
and heard all that passed from ray win- 
dow above. I had rather lose a hundred 
cats, than miss such an example of truth 
and honor in my school." 

" Your best reward is what you now 
feel in your own conscience; but I beg you 
to accept this handsome penknife, as a to- 
ken of my approbatioji. 

Duncan took out his handkerchief and 
wiped his. eyes. 

The boys could no longer refrain them- 
selves; and when Thomas Peoley cried. — 
"Three cheers for True Duncan !'• all 
joined in a hearty hurra. 

The teacher then said — 

" My boys, lam glad you knowwha is 
right, and that you approve it; though I 
am afraid some of you could not have 
done it." 

Learn from tkis that nothing can make 
a falsehood necessary. Suppose Duncan 
had taken your evil advice, and come to 
me with a lie, it would have been instantly 
detected, for I was a witness of what pass- 
ed. 

"I trust that he has been governed in 
this by a sense of right, and exhort you to 
follow his example." 

At the head of the list of the Knights 
of the Legion of Honor lately created by 
the President of the French Republic, is a 
widow by the name of Brulon, who was 
born in 1771, and is now an officer in the 
Hotel des Invalides, wliere she has lived 
for the last 62 pears, enjoying <he esteem 
and veneration of the old companions in 
arms. 

Deborah, from the Hebrew,, means a 
bee; Rachael, a iheep; Sarah, a princess; 
^n'i Hannah, the irrac'ious. 



^ 



u 



CLASSIC UNION. 



THE IMPROPER USE OF THE TOXQUE 

A Sarmon^.preached before Muscle-Slioal AssoCi-- 
atiuu, by D. BREiDKsruAL, Published bj re- 
quealv. - - 

" Eeep thy Toii^e from evil." Psalm 34: 13. 

3. Profanity is aivother flagrant abuse 
■"of the tongue, against which we should 
be admonished by the text to guard. — 
Than tliis, no sin is more inexcusable, 
more unreasonable and more wanton. It 
is the most irrational and superfluous of 
all sins that mortals can comrnit; and Satan 
prompting men to their commission, ope- 
rates by second causes, man's selfishness, 
the gratification of appetite and passion. 
But the sin of profanity is motiveless; and 
in committing this; men are Jnstigated 
immediately and directly by Satan. He 
who steals is influenced by the value of 
the article, his own or the wants of his 
family. He who defrauds has ttie motive 
of gaining temporary advantage. The 
incendiary himself, as- black as is his 
crime, is influenced by the motive of pri- 
vate revenge or plunder. But the profane 
swearer, without motive, without cause, 
without reason, commits the most heaven- 
daring oflfence, ever recorded in the book 
of God's remembrance. Madness ! A 
child of the dust, a creature of a moment, 
to imprecate the vengeance, and bid de- 
fiance to the power, of that God whose 
glance is perdition, whose frown destruc- 
tion. Recklessness appalling ! A mor- 
tal to challenge God to doom him to ever- 
lasting torment — to assay to measure arms 
with the Almighty, — to grapple with Om- 
nipotence. Let the diminutive insect that 
skims over the surface of the water, wage 
war with Leviathan; let the puny biped 
raise its tiny creeper against the crushing 
and violence of the whirlwind; let the 
helpless and unsheltered infant breathe de- 
fiance to the thunders' bolt: but let not 
man call his Maker to battle ! 

It argues well for the progress of chris- 
tian sentiment, that profanity is consider- 
ed highly impolite, incompatible with de- 
corum and refinement. The man who 
haa the native recklessness and unblush- 
ing impudence, to intrude his lips of foul- 
ness and profanity into a refined circle, 
will quickly feel that he is in an atmos- 
phere above him, and one not to be tainted 
by the unhallowed oath which is wont to 
hang upon his lips. He may, if he will, 
soliloquize his profanity in dark and moul- 
dy cellars, muddy lanes and back streets; 
but he may not thus pollute the atmosphere 
of refinement. Profanity is the dialect 
of rudeness, and the tribe to which a man 
belongs is known by the dialtc' which be 
speaks. 



No sin is so Heaven-daring, is marked 
with so much of the darkness of ingrati- 
tude. The profane swearer should fear 
to see a cloud gather in the sky, lest it 
should be surcharged with a bolt of retri- 
bution, and commissioned to break and 
burn him to blaclmess" and, ashea. He 
should fear to looTi down, lest the earth 
should open to engulph him, — and fear to 
look up, lest every ray of the sun should 
meet in his face is a focus, and shed blind- 
ness and searing scintilations in his eyes. 
He should fear to breathe, lest the very at- 
mosphere around him should be impreg- 
nated with the elements of fatal disease 
and death. Profanity ! • It, is profaning 
goodness; it is abusing kindness; it is 
trifling with mercy; it is insulting love, 
and mocking forbearance. The mouth 
which should be vocal with blessing, is full 
of cursing. The bird that knows her ap- 
pointed springtime, sits upon her favorite 
tree in your garden, and merrily and grate- 
ful chants the gladsome chorus, at early 
dawn and rising day, to Him who gave 
her wing and plumage. But .man endow- 
ed with reason and understanding, the ob- 
ject of the rarest afi'ection and blessings 
that Heaven or earth knows, ungrateful 
man awakes to, salute with profanity the 
Being who protected his nightly slumbers. 
"Keep thy tongue from the evil of profane 
sweariug." 

Nor should we omit to mention false- 
hood as an improper use of the tono-ue. — 
We are created with a disposition to speak 
truth and give credence to that which is 
spoken. We are created with a moral 
constitution, by which we suft'er pain 
whenever the law of veracity is violated. 
A universal violation of the law of veraci- 
ty, would result in universal degeneracy 
and misery. . "Lying lips are an abomin- 
ation to the Lord." " Thou shalt not bear 
false witness against thy neighbor." It is 
then the will of God, as taught both by 
nature and Revelation, that we should ob- 
serve veracity under all circumstances. — 
Veracity is violated whenever we utter as 
truth, that which we have not known to be 
truth, — whenever we intentionally make a 
wrong impression. That mother violates 
the law of veracity, as well as sound poli- 
cy, who to keep her child within doors at 
night, points to its credulous imagination, 
outdoor frightful pictures, when she knows 
that no such things exist. That other 
mother does violence to, veracity as well as 
sound policy, who, to gain the assent of the 
child to take an unpleasant potion of med- 
icine, assures it that the drop is sweet, 
vlhen she knows that it is bitter and nau- 



ceous. That lady infringes Xipon veracity, 
as well as wholesome discipline, who, be- 
cause she is otherwise engaged for the 
hour, sends word to the visitor that she is 
not at home, when she knows that every 
word of that message is untrue. That 
young man and that young woman do vi- 
olence to the law of veracity, who, in their 
sallies of gallantry in a devoted pursuit, 
declare, for the sake of success or secrecy, 
what they know is not true. That lawyer 
violates veracity, who, by exaggeration or 
extenuation, seeks to make an impression 
upon the minds of jurors which he knows 
is unwarranted by the facts in the case. — 
Let it never be forgotten, that neither for 
the sake of a small or a great gain, are we 
in any wise justifiable, in the least depart- 
ure from truth. Gehazi, on account of 
falsehood with respect to gain was smitten 
with all the loathing and noisomeness of 
perpetual leprosy. Ananias and Saphira, 
"within the space of three hours," fell 
dead at the Apostles' feet, for uttering 
falsehood for the sake of gain. God has 
not given men the prerogative of violating 
veracity, at any time, lender any circum- 
stances, or for any purpose. Veracity is 
the law of the universe. God governs all 
worlds and all intelligences upon the strict- 
est principles of eternal veracity. Our 
present and everlasting happiness is foun- 
ded upon truth; and he who conforms his 
life to the law of truth is God -like, for God 
is truth. However we may attempt to 
extenuate and excuse here, however we 
may essay to mystify in this world of dark- 
ness and imperfection, God dwells in light 
unclouded; and the judgement of God 
is according to truth. " Who can com- 
pute the amount of evil resulting from the 
utterance of a single falsehood. It is only 
one of a nest of vipers which will also in 
time utter their poisonous hiss, to enven- 
om the heart and to charm into slumber 
the whisperings of the inward monitor. — 
And woe betides the man who has dregs 
which can stupefy the powers of con- 
science. It is a law of eternal justice and 
retribution, a law immutable and irrevoca- 
ble, a law attested by all time and all ob- 
servation, a law written by the finger of 
God on the inner tablets of our nature, 
that that young man will never come to a 
worthy end, who runs a career of false- 
hood. To nobleness of purpose, high- 
toned sentiment, decision of character and 
virtuous aim, his bosom is a total stranger. 
The statesman of South Carolina, over 
whose death the nation has only ceased 
weeping, as unique and bold as were his 
public opinions, owed his world-wide fame 



CLASSIC UNION. 



85 



to his unbending uprightness and unwa- 
vering veracity. Already had the Father 
of his country demonstrated his future 
greatness, when a boy with hatchet in 
hand which hacked the gardners favorite 
tree, he frankly confessed that he had done 
the deed. Washington, our country's, 
the world's Washington did then utter the 
confession which, like that of Peter, was 
the rock upon which was founded our 
country's deliverance. The star which 
hovered over Bethlahem did not more de- 
finitely point to a world's divine and eter- 
nal Savior, than did the light of that con- 
fession point to our country's temporal 
savior. Let him then who would rear an 
ever during monument of hTinorable and 
commendable fame; him who would be 
useful to his country and a benefactor to 
his race; him especially who would gain 
the smiles of Heaven and shun the frowns 
of God, be careful to add to every other 
''irtue undeviating correctness and un- 
flkiching veraci'y. " Keep thy tongue 
frdp the evil of falsehood." 

Fhally, the tongue is abused in slander 
detraction and tale-bearing. What an 
amount of evil is produced by an abuse of 
the tongue in this respect ? How often 
does friendship mourn, or a community 
bleed and religion wail, under the merci- 
less and remorseless inflictions of a tongue 
which " is a world of iniquity and set on 
fire of hell." The slanderer and tale- 
bearer seem to forget, if indeed they have 
any conscience at all, that a man's repu- 
tation, the esteem in which he is held is 
as much his own property, as the houses 
and lands in his possession. He who has 
built a mansion, in his own time and out 
of his own material, owns that mansion 
but, at the same time, he may have dis- 
played such taste and skUl in the construc- 
tion of the edifice, as to have acquired a 
reputati(to as truly bis own property as the 
structure tself, and more valuable than 
that, ifid by despoiling him of that rep- 
utation, fou would be doing him a greater 
injury tl^n by hurling the fire-brand into 
hiscostljmansion, and reducing it to ashes. 
There isjiot a title secured, in the rights of 
property more exclusive and equitable 
than thetitk to one's own reputation.— 
There isinot an element of crime in fraud, 
stealth ajid robbery, which does not live 
big and Hack in the breath of slander. 

Sometongues are so illyshapen, so dark- 
ly c(|lor^d, of such vicious taste, that they 
havenorelish for those high and dignified 
traitsbf character which, in spite of the 
Fall, Wist in the humblest man who bears 
theinljge of God; they mtist ever, lik* 



the dog, lap in the ugly dish of faults, 
frailties and imperfections. They have no 
relish for the manna which came pure and 
untainted from the skies, but roll eagerly 
to their palates the manna which has be- 
come decayed, fetid and corrupt by con- 
tact with sin and earth. They have no 
taste for angel's food, for aught in human 
character that is elevated and heavenly, 
but must delve in the vices and foibles of 
the man earthly — " deadin trespasses and 
in sin." Such persons have no relish for 
the pure, wholesome and living elements 
of devoted character; they must evermore, 
like the dark flock which troop in your 
woodlands and wastofields, bury their fil- 
thy bills in the putrid meal of sin and 
death. Like the phosphorous which in a 
dark and foggy night rises flickering from 
the graves in youY churchyards, such 
tongues are brilliant only when they come 
in contact with the remains of spiritual 
death, corruption and decay. It is a 
strange, unphilanthropic and unchristian 
taste that is never glutted, save when feed- 
ing upon the faults, and foibles and imper- 
fections of a fellow mortal. Let the slan- 
derer pursue his trade of crime and woe, 
let him rejoice in the atmosphere of turpi- 
tude and sin, let him vomit his rancorous 
poison into the life-blood of society and 
peace, let him roll his iron car over the 
necks of unprotected virtue and defence- 
less innocence, let him revel in the sighs 
and wails and tears running from the eyes 
and lips and broken hearts of orphanage 
and widowhood, but God, give us hearts 
to weep for others woes ! Rather than 
causelessly expose erring frailty, let it be 
ours to cast the mantle of charity over it, 
and hide it from public gaze forever. — 
Causelessly " speak evil of no man." 

Often is slander, detraction and tale- 
bearijig carried on under covert of secrecy, 
and, like the stream running underground, 
noiselessly and as if by magic it winds 
through the whole community, till it dash- 
es itspolluted waters against the man who 
is its object; and when the injured citizen 
rises up, in the consciousness of fais inno- 
cence, and traces back that stream, as 
usual and evermore it grows less and less, 
until it terminates in a croaking pond of 
reptiles as its fountainhead. The slander 
is prefaced by an injunction to secrecy, 
as if another would keep a secret for us 
jvhich we will not keep for ourselves. — 
" I would not have you repeat it, but — " 
"do not say anything about it, but — ," 
''you know I am not accustomed to speak 
of it, but — " "I do not mean any harm, 
but — " " jou know I would not eay any- 



thing to injure hira, but — ." O that cold 
hearted, cantradicting, flood-gate little 
word "iui!" "Would not say anytliing 
to injure him," — no, not you, kind lov- 
ing and precious souls; yet summoning all 
the bitterness and ire of a tempest-tossed 
spirit, to scatter thorns and thistles and 
fire-brands and death into the besom of 
quietude and friendship ! 

I fear, however, 1 have already, my 
brethren, taxed your patience too long. — 
Let us conclude our present reflectiona, 
by considering in a few words the cause 
of slander and detraction and, what is 
more important, an eft'ectual cure. De- 
traction originates in envy. That man 
is wealthier than I am, though I am aa 
happy as he; he has a greater reputation 
than I have, though I have as much as I 
deserve; he has more friends than I have, 
though I have also friends good and true. 
And because he has more wealth, more 
reputation, or more friends than I have; 
because he is in some respects taller than 
lam, I will convert my tongue into an 
axe of destruction, and try what virtue 
there is in hewing down and lopping off'! 
The little-eyed mole cannot endure that 
the beautiful Gazelle has a more brilliant 
eye than her; and therefore will she des- 
troy the grass upon which the Gazelle 
feeds. The rank ivy, because it cannot 
unaided tower aloft as the majestic oak, 
will not do as does the beautiful jasmine, 
tenderly embrace that stately trunk, and 
give it decoration by its fragrance and flow- 
ers, it must fasten its ugly and poisonous 
creepers deep in the rind, to eft'ect decay 
and crumbling, and to bring that towering 
oak down to the earth, to which its unas- 
sisted windings must be confined. The 
noble Eagle with his wing on the wind 
and his eye on the sun, careers "onward 
and upward, onward right on;" butthfl 
mean httle Spider, because it is not a sun, 
because its little self is not the oentre of 
attraction, the centre of the universe, will 
raise* its ugly little head, eject its iioiseous 
saliva, to spit out the sun which warmed it 
into being, and clothed with living green all 
around it. From how mean a principle 
proceeds how mean a practice 1 1 sliould 
be afraid, if I knew it, to have a tongue 
of detraction, lest the nngel of wrath 
should be sent to burn it to its root, or writ* 
palsy upon it. 

But whatis the remedy ? Turn no ear 
to the tale-bearer, and his lips will be as 
mute as the angel of death. If you listen 
to his tale of slander, you encourage bis 
miserable trafic, and are a partaker of hi« 
sin; andif you will yet listen, ivmembtr 
that this is a world of partial retribution, 
and you will be the slanderer's next, victim, 
" Keep thy tongue" from the evil of des- 
truction and tale-bearing. " Keep tiiy 
tongue" from talkativeness, jesting, ridi- 
cule, profanity and falsehqoil. " keep 
thy tongue from evil." 



S'u 



CLASSIC UNION. 



DEATH OF C. C. TRABUE. ! 

We regret to hear that this most estim- 
able man died at his residence in Nashville 
on 24th ult. Mr. Trabue was an old citi- 
zen of Nashville, and though lost to the 
business world for several years preceding 
his death by a lingering and prostrating 
disi^ase,, that city has had but few more 
beloved and enterprising citizens; and the 
Baptist Church has lost in him one of her 
brightest ornaments. " Mr. T. was one of 
the projectors of Union University, an ' 
original Trustee, and one of its most de- 
voted friends. Such was his devotion to, 
the Institution which he had been instru- ' 
mental in. founding, that after several years 
absence from the meetings of the Board 
of Trustees, in consequence of disease, at 
the last two meetings he had himself con-; 
veyed to Murfreesborough, and lay in his 
bed, and gave his council and assisted in 
the tran.sa.ction of the business of the 
Board. In the death of Mr. Trabue the 
University has lost one of its best friends. 
We subjoin the following just tribute from 
the Daily Gazette. H. I 

But we owe him a tribute, as a citizen, who 
stood liigU iu the aflfoctiou and csieem of all 
who liiiew him. Uiitil disease prostrated his*' 
system, and rendered him uiifjt fur action, there 
was no one readier or more efficient than he in 
every high and noble enterprise. His concep- 
tions of the duties of a citizen rose high above 
every personal consideration, and took their 
^h ipe f.otn the rojst expansive view of the so- 
e a relation. In his transactions with men, I 
he was prudent, liberal and scrupulously honest. \ 
When prosperity enriched him Irom her prolific ' 
lap, he was neither unduly elated nor exorbitant ' 
in his demands. Wlien adversity settled upon 
him, it wrung a spirit alive to svery sense of 
honor, but the bitterness of tlie disappointment' 
was in the fact, that others might sutifer by his ' 
misfortunes. In his intercourse with the world, ■ 
he was cheerful, courteous and affable. He uni- 
formly had a smile and a kind word for every 
one who arrested his attention. He was ambi- 
tious of the esteem of his fellow-citizens, and 
yet he sought it not by flattery and adulation,' 
out by a calm and dignified deportment, a gen- 1 
erous liospitalily and a faithful observance of all 
the personal and relative duties of life. The 
parent of a large aud interesting; family, he 
j^ave them the greater po)'tion of his atfections- 
and, by his gentle discipline and uuremittecfat, 
tentious, made hini.solf the centre of all thei- 
hearts. For many years befc re his death, a mem- 
ber of ihe Bapiist Church in this city, he exerar 
plified :ho precepts of the great Head of the 
ijhurch, by an humble life, a constant hope, and 
an exalted and active charity. His whole life 
present for our admiration a picture of public! 
and privait; virtue, o( moderation in prosperity, 
and jpatience under misfortune, which the histo- 
ry ot few individual's will furnish. 

Mr. Trabue was born in Woodf jrd county, 
Ky.. Au^. 27th, 1778. and was descended from 
Edward Trabue, a Huguenot, who fled to this 
country from religious persecution, at an early 
period. At the age of seventeen, he served a 
campaign under Gen. Jackson, in his Indian 
wars in the Southern States, as a sergeant in the 
company of Capt. Crittenden's Kentucky Vol- 
unteers, from which position, however, he was 
elevated afterwards t(j the Life Guard of the 
General-in-chicf. In ISIP, having previously 
removed to this place, he Was ajjpointed to a 
clerkship in the U. S. Bank, which he filled 
wiJi integrity and efKciency. Soon afterwards 
he was maiTied to Miss Agnes, the sister of our 
mt»ivoK^ &UoW4.'«tizeii« Jo8e|>Ii ai^ Juuc» 



"Woods, Esqs. Having, shortly after his mar- 
riage, removed to the State of Missouri, he was 
there elected to the lower branch of the Legisla- 
ture, and served one session with the confidence 
and esteem of all. Having returned to this city, 
he was elected Maj'or in 18.39, and again in ihe 
following year. We well ron)ember "the enthu- 
siasm with w'hich he was twice called to this 
important station. In 1840, he was attacked 
by a lingering and prostrating fever, which Avas 
qiuickly followed by rlieumatism and consump- 
tion, of which diseases he continued the patient 
but almost helpless victim till his death, which 
occurred on the 24th' instant. Throughout this 
long and painful illness, he manifested the most 
tindeniable Christian fortitude and resignation. 
Thus has passed away a good man, and such 
is our monument to his. memory. We could not 
liave said less, iu compliment of the dead, or .In 
justice to the living. 



; . , A SUMMER SABBATH NOON. 
If is a most delicious calm 

That resteth everywhere. 
The holiness of soul-sung psalm. 

Of folt but Tjiceless prayer ; 
With hearts too full to speak their bliss, 

God's silent creatures are. 

They silent are, but not the less 

In this most tranquil hour 
Of deep unbio'.eii dreaminess. 

They own that love and power. 
Which, like the softest sunsliiue, rests 

On every leaf and flower. 

CfEiofS Fact: — No Piesident of tha tTiiited 
States M'Ao had sons, was ever re-elected. Wash- 
ington, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, and Jack- 
son, had no sons, and were re-elected ; John 
Adams, John Quincy Adams, "Van Buren, Har- 
rison, and Tyler had sons, and not re-elected. 

A He.'.then Lanouag£. — It is said that in the 
Oiine.se language tlieie is not, a word that ex- 
presses the true idea of sin, and the only word 
which. com'(;s near it is one signifying a breach 
of politeness. 

The men who returned to New York city from 
the late Arctic Expedition were ignorant on their 
arrival of the existence of Collins' line of steam- 
ers,'or that there had been any such thing as a 
great Industrial Exhibition, in England. 

Death. — He that is well i repared f.)r the great 
journey, cannot enter on it too soon for himself, 
Uiough his friends will weep for liis departtre. 

Whes the candle of prosperity shines upon 
us, we may light our neigh'bors who are in the 
dark, aud havB none the less light oursulves. 

Remember it — all your labor in this world 
must be done to-day — to man tlure «- no to-tnon 

TOW, 

THE DEAD. 

0. weep not for the dead! 
Rather, rather give the tear. 
To those that darkly linger here. 

When all beside has fled; 
Weep for the spirit withering 
In its cold, cheerless sorrowing; 
Weep for the young and lovely one 
That ruin darkly revels on; 
But never be a tear-drop slied 
For them, the pure, enfranchised dead. 

Tennessee is the fifth State of the TTnion in 
point of population: The 1st, 2d, 3d, and 4t]i, 
are Now York, Pennaylvaiua, Ohio and Virginia 



[From the Ghristsan Index.] 
"A BAPTIST PREACHER BURIED ALIVE." 

Brother Dagg.—l read the above cap- 
tion in a late number of the Index, with 
sentiments of horror. But upon running 
over the a.iticles whiah followed, was 
somewhat relieved upon finding, that the 
unfortunate brother was not actually cov- 
ered up in the ground, whilst the lamp of 
life was, not extinct, but that he was en- 
tombed in cotton. "The fact itself, though 
appalling, is not without its mitigations, 
and perh.^ps, not without some shadow of 
apology founded in reason and good sense. 
There is such a thing as sympathy in this 
world. It is said that the Moravian Mis- 
sionaries in the days of Count Zinzendorf, 
were willing to go into the civil circumstan- 
ces of the West Indian slaves, provided 
they might be permitted to preach the 
gospel to them. ' This was certainly 
Christ-like. And perhaps our buried 
brother, found a majority of his church 
members within the dreary precincts of a 
cotton death ground, and to relieve them 
obtained his consent to bear them com- 
pany. 

One thing must be apparant to us all. — 
It requires some strength^ of nerve to 
bear up under a lengthened isolation what- 
ever may be the cause of its e.xislencf. — 
He must be firm indeed, who stanc's up 
for for God, whilst all around declare 
themselves on the side of Mammon "Bet- 
ter be out of the world than out of the 
fashion," is a proverb of every day ex- 
emplification. If it be proper to observe, 
"like priest, like people," may we not 
sometimes reverse the picture, and say, 
like people, like priest?' "Upon the prin- 
ciple of conformity to circumstances- and 
influences, we may ejcpect to find this the 
case. 

Our public men are what we make them. 
If we expect the services of intelligent and 
faithful Lawyers and Physicians, we must 
be willing to allow them .such a reward a» 
will place them in that position assigned 
them by public consent. Force them in- 
to the corners of poverty, by a niggardly- 
withholding of what is due to talents and 
virtue, and you make them tricksters and 
hypocrits. And may not the same be true 
of ministers? Are they not expicted to 
be intelligent, upright men — models to, 
the rest of society? Now withhild the 
means necessary to secure the eid, and 
this high office will be held by utworthy 
incumbents. The man who dev'ij;es his 
days and nights, his whole energies, to 
study, to prayer, to the ministrjj of the 
Word, ifhehave no means of his o^n, and 
attempt to keep up with his flock, .{ith re- 
spect to his clothing, his style (f living 
and moving, must either plunge himselt 
into debt, and hereby hazard the'.mputa- 
tion of dishonesty, or, substitute tli> Leger 
or Blackstone for the Bille — have his de- 
funct ministry inscribed with a cottin epi- 
'taph, and 'groan' back his sad regrets to 
the demands of his impoverished negh- 
bors. 

The balances of supply and denand 
are miserably out of point. The aijust- 
monts of New Testament dovisina;, seem 



CLASSIC UNION. 



THOMAS PAINE. 



to have been set aside. In this age oflmitsof the Pyramids, but amid a shape- 

"Pro'i-ress " relinon stands far down in less>ccumulation of cotton-bags. Paul! | I devote this communicaticn to a notice 
the list of humin necessities. Fine! thou man of God, of suS-ringi and la- of one tniilled to the "bad eminence" of 
cloAcJ, fine equipage, fine every thing — aj bars, wriLe to us as thou diisc L0_ the Ro-^; being among the worst t'liemits of our 
little, brief, shinin^^^lile — to be looked at^ mans, "be not conlormei to thi> world. "j country. - 1 refer to tJie once honored and 
and 'talked of— Uiese things form the | John! thou beloved deciple, let us hci-.r j celebrated, but r.osv, and to all futuie 
summ'cm brmim 0? ihepresAlt dav. The thee, when thou sayest. If any man love [ time, justly inKimous, Thomas Pt^ine.— 
miniitrj'— what an old fashioned thing! | the world, the. love of the Fatdier is not. in ; Sarely I msy congratulate myself on hav- 
To talk of Divine Revelation, of Hu-jhim." The di-ease which leads to this j ing seen the two extremes in humsn cha- 
man Depravity, of Regeneration, Repen- [ dire result is con' agious. We may all be U.^cter, • George Washington and Thomas 
tance Faith 'Justifiialion and Holiness, i smitten. The signs of the times are omi- |Paine; the remembrance of both is equal- 



in a sober, sensible stj'le, what prosing! nous, it beeonies 
"Give us men of talents for the ministry," tious, to pray, 
says the man with tbe long beard as he^ 
\ puffs off by means of a tobacco tube, the 
excesses of his genius. No solid reason- 
ing is admissible. There must be no 
^'abstractions." The man of fringe is the 
Vvorite. Let him come with his jiuglings 
\d ting-lings culled from "the current liter- 
yre of the driy'' — let him for the 'amuse- 
y.1' of his auditors, step into the bal- 
1\ of his towering fancy — let him fly on 
tp\e outward verge of God's vast crea- 
•tioVdaias he stands upon the last star, 
3r the lightning's wing to bear him 
to rLns bjyond — he may get tlre^rom- 
ise oVupport — he may have the full hen- 
eStol^ubscrjniion, but whether the more 
substafial ever comes to hand, ask the 
deaco; 

The ^ove, rem irks apply to certain lo 
calities.Un other places anything will do 
for the nnistry. tfere the good old song 
has its nisio still. Ah, the old wine, the 
old corn!\ By the way, there is much of 
good sensi "^ '■^"s. And old fashioned, 
good thing, in my judgment, is worth 
more than a modern, pompous notliing. — 
But what I have in view la this: Old bro- 
ther Hardfate has "served his chuches" a 
long time — has hoed his corn, and fed his 
cows, through many a dreary year — and 
his brethren have sometimes, taken a 'col- 
lection' for his benefit, amounting in the 
agregate, to the full amount of twenty five 
cents apiece, for all the members — -and nmv 
they are very much afraid of innovation, 
to do more, were to open the gate for a 
flood-tide of errors. Ilovr accomodating 
is conscience, when memory is in question! 
Should the old gentleman need a new coat, 
the old lady's loom and needle have per- 
formed this kind office many a time, and, 
f.s for books, why ihey may lead to new 
id'iias andnew things, and therefore should 
be i°t alo/ie. It is true. Deacon Oldpath 
sometimi complains, and says that broth- 
er Hardflte ought to have more time to 
read anarest; but he is opposed in con» 
ference bl' brother Guardwell who always 
urges thit "a man of brother H'3 cxjieri' 
ence can itudy enough o'nights."' 

Brother EnJitor, when I sat down to 
write, I d d not e.vpect to spin out so long 
a yarn — hut this buying business; O the 
thought ii terriblel V/hy my dear sir, it 
behooves Is all to hunt up old Watts, and 
sing. I 
"Hark frjun tlio tombs, a djleful sound. 

Mine ears attend the cry; 
Ye living men come view the ground, 

■Where you shall shortly lie." 
Many of our brethren are buried — min- 
isters and people, all buiied; not like the 
atosieat Pharoahi, beneath the proud si.iai- 



.s to think, to be^cou- 
APPR2HENSI0N. 



LIFE IS SWEET . 
"0, life is; sweei!" sai J a merry child, 

'And I love, I love to roam 
lu the meadows jrrecn, 'neath the sky serene; 

0! ihe vrorld is a fairy home. 
Tliereare trees hui>^ thick with blossoms fair. 

And dowers gay and bright; 
There's the moon's clear ray. and ihe sunlit day 

0! tlie World is a world Jt' ligh'J" . . 

"01 life is swegt!" said a gallaiit.yoiHh, 

As he conned the storied page. 
And he poadjred on ihe da/s by gone 

And llie lame of a former age. 
There was hope in liis briglit and beaming eyes, 

And lie longed for riper years; 
He clnng to life— he dared ,it.s strife — 

He felt no dread nor fears. 

'01 life is sweetl" came men-ily 

From the lips of a fair young bride; 
And a happy smile she gave the Avhile, 

To th2 dear one by her side. 
-Ollife is sweet! for we will live 

Our constancy to prove — 
Thy sorrows mine, my trials thine-^ 

Our .solace in our love." 
'■0! life is sweet!" said a mother fond. 

As she gazed on her helpless child. 
And closer pressed to her gladdened breast 

Her babe, who uneoncions smiled, 
"ily life shall be for thee, my child. 

Pure, guiltless, as ihou an; 
And wliu 5.hall dare my soul to tear 

From the tie that forms a parfi" 

"0! life is sweet!" said an aged. .sire, 

■Whose eve was sunk and dim. 
His form was bent, hiS strength was spent, 

Oould life be sweet to hiinV 
0, yesi for round the old manis chair 

His children's children clung. 
And each dear face and warni embrace 

JIado life seem ever young. 

Thus life is sweet, from early youth 

To weak, cufeelpled age, 
Love twines with life, through care and stirfe, 

In every varied stage. 
And though, perchance, the path is rough, 

And dark the sky above. 
In every state there's somethiiigyet. 

To live f Jr E nd Ui lava 

Hint to BLAOKsMirna. — The cutting of bars of 
iron or pipes with tlic chisel is a lardy and labo- 
rous process. By the following mode the saui • 
end is attained more speedily and neatly : Bring 
Che irou to a white heat, and then tix it in a v.oe 
aud ajiply the comm.m saw, winch, wiihuu: 
being turned in the edge, or injured in any res- 
pect, will divide" it its easily as if il were & car- 
rut 



Sios OF GflAEACTtB. — A uian who habitually 
speaks disparagingly of the female charantei 
gives conclusive evidence that there is .some 
thing wrong in his own, and also shows the 
ola.S3 of females with whom ho has 'oeen in tlu 
habit of associating. A true man always has a 
high ideal of female excellence, and cheiishes i, 
with a respecL bordering on worship. We nvisi 
perliapa make some allowance for old bachelor^ 
who cannot get wives. 

CuEiosiTi' — The curiosity of an elevafc-d mind 
IS direeu'd towards Uuuga — that of a tmUl one 
towards persens. 



ly distinct and vivid in my recollection. — 
I saw Paine but twi,';e; and had I a dep.r 
friend in danger of receiving injurious im- 
pressions from his writings, one of the 
best, most effectual, and r^ost rapid anti- 
dotes would be. to show him the man.— 
Let him see the object that I saw, and 
hear what 1 heard, and the conviction 
.would be everlasting, that, the. tree could 
not'be good which produced such fruit. — 
The first lime I saw him was in what 
mifht be es.cemed his palmiest days; it 
was when he wis invited back to tlie Uni- 
ted States by Mr. Jell'erson, in 1802. The 
invitation. was placed by the friends of the 
President so'ely on patriotic grounds; in 
consideration of the early a-nd eminent 
services rendered to the cause of the Rev- 
olution by the distinguished an hor of 
"Common Sense:" but tho.se who know 
Mr. Jefferson better, could not be brought 
to believe such an account of ilie matter. 
Ti-te, Mr. Paine, coming to America at 
the great crisis of our affairs, vihea the 
minds of men werfi like a magazine ready 
xplode on the first touch of a match, 
did render a most aceept;-;ble and very 
efficient service, by writing a clear, brief, 
and cogent statement of our case wih 
Eno-Iand; but had not that service, beside 
the ample revenue of fame it brought him, 
been rewarded by a subs'antial recom- 
pense in money '? Had he not, too, hj 
way of public testimonial to his meriis, 
been placed in a public siiuation of honor 
and trust, from \y Inch he had to be dis- 
gracefully expelled ? Had be not bten 
guilty of a similar act in France ? to say 
nothing of his disgraces in England, on 
the self-same ground before he came here, 
and was this a man be publicly nunored 7 
Was not tbe womrn who accompanied 
him here the first time an abased heart- 
broken wife, and the woman who came 
with him the last time, the wife of another 
man ? Was not Paine's mor;.! characttr 
perfectly well known in England, in France 
and in the United States 1 Would Wash- 
inL'ton have asked such a man to visit us T 
Ah no! At the time of his arrival poli- 
tics rnn very high; the minds of men wer« 
in all the fervid excitement of a great par- 
ty contest, elated and insolent from victo- 
ry, or exasperated and imbittered by d( • 
feat. Rooms were taken for Paine at ths 
"New York Hotel," as it was called, then 
the most eminent public houst in the city, 
(though only two stories high, by the by.) 
and he was visited there by floods of com- 
pany, consisting, for the most part, of the 
friends of France, and of Mr. Jefferson, 
most of them younir aiid» yrominent men 
or such as were in hot chase o! popularity 
and political elevation. The rcom seemed 
open to all comers, and thoug I was but 



as 



CLASSIC U^MON. 



a lad, I entered with the rest, prompted 
by an intense cariosity to behold a man 
whohad attrac'ed himself a world-wide 
notoriety. "He was seated near the fire, 
while a largn circle of interested admirers 
were gazing and listening, Mr. Paine t ik- 
ing the lead in the conversation, and, in 
fact, supporting it almost alone; for he 
spoke with great readiness and fl_aencj", 
and with pungent humor that frequently 
threw his audiehce into explosions of 
laughter. I have forgotten the particu- 
lars, but I rememember the general topics 
were vituperations of England; prophesies 
of her speedy downfall; the progress of 
French victories and Erench sentiments in 
Europe; a joyful anticipation of a like 
progress in America; and, especially, of 
the utter prostitution of Christianity. He 
there confidently prophesied that in five 
years more the Bible would become an obso- 
lete book, and would scarcely be in circu- 
lation in New York. All these sentiments 
were eagerly listened to by those around 
him and seemed to be cordially assented 
to; and as I left the apartment, I heard a 
distinguished politician say to his friend, 
that England was bankrupt, and that there 
would be a revolution there before another 
year. Paine was then well dressed, and 
though florid, wearing the general e.xpres- 
sion of a worn libertine. I think his feet 
were swelled as with gout. Madame 
Bonneville and her two children were with 
him. 

How different was his appearance when 
I last beheld him ! It was in the morn- 
iag, about eleven o'clock, in a narrow, 
obscure street, running in Ihe rear of the 
City Hall, at the corner of which and 
Thames street, stooJ Carver's blacksmith 
shop. I need scarce remind j'our readers 
that Thomas Carver was one of Paine's 
iacimales, a disciple in the infidel school, 
a man of strong mind, and very much 
disposed to avow and argue for his princi- 
ples. He and his infidel friend and mas- 
tar had not then quarrelled, (as they af- 
terwards did, in consequence of Paine's 
infamous behavior when boarding in Car- 
ver's house.) It was immediately oppo- 
sie Carver's blaoksniith shop; and while 
Oirver, (far the better man of the two,) 
was hard at work over his anvil, hammer 
in hand, Paine, without his hat, and in 
» loose sort of great coat, or wrap-rascal, 
(as they were then called,) his hands be- 
hind him, "iiis clothes shabby, and his flesh 
disgustingly dirty, was pacing the pave- 
ment backward and forsvard, for a short 
spaee, keeping up a couvcrsaiion with his 
U.scij)le and liost. The instant I set my 
eyes upon him, I recognized the man 1 
had seen at the City Hall, the loadstar of 
admiring eyes. Alas, how changed I but 
there was the same never-to-be-forgotten 
«)untenance, which, once seen, (like Jef- 
frey's) stamped itself forever on the mem- 
ory. His huge nose was much increased 
in size, and covered with carbuncles and 
blotches of a fieiy red. His cavernous 
eye-sockets, dark and sunken, were over- 
hung by shaggy grey brows, from beneath 
which his two restless, eager, angiy, pierc- 
ing eyes, glowed like living coals of char- 
coal. I uefer saw such eyes, befor« or 



since. They seemed like inlets to the hell 
within. His head shook violently with 
the palsy. His whole frame moved stiffly, 
and his feet seemed too heavy for him. — 
And O, if his eyes seemed like the inlets 
of hell, what shall I compare his mouth 
to, but its open gate? Such torrents of 
oaths and bfasphemy, I never listened, to. 
He was angry, much excited, under some 
supposed abuse or injui'ious treatment, 
and he was pouring out, to Carver, his 
resentful feelings. It was the resentment 
of a fiend. Every word was a curse. I 
stood, gazed, listened, and was instructed. 
And I well remember the wish that rose 
within me, that every man, woman or 
■child, that had ever read his Age of Rea- 
son, could stand where I stood, and con- 
template its author. They would never 
have forgotten the sight to their dying 
day. 

I did not witne'ss the death bed of this 
man, but my brother did. My brother 
was a minister, and occasionally preached 
at New Rochelle on the Sound, not far out 
of New York, near which Paine la}' sick. 

The first thing that struck one on visit- 
ing his room and bed, was the nauseous 
filthiness of both. Nor could it be pre- 
vented. Su<;h was his utter aversion to 
water, that he would never, if he could 
prevent it, suffer his person to be washed. 
Stretched across his apartment were lines, 
on which he hung, unwashed, his pocket- 
handkeschiefs, when in such a state that 
they could not longer be used. Prom a 
fact like this, it is easy to imagine what 
must have been the condition of his out- 
er man. The woman received him as a 
boarder, with the utmost repugnance, her 
husband being one of Paines disciples, 
and begged, for a long time in vain, that 
he m.ight bk removed. His conduct, at 
length, became so outrageous, that she 
succeeded. He died at the house of a 
Mrs. Hedden, a good and kind-hearted 
woman, whose disgust was vanquished by 
pity, and who often read to him for ho"urs 
together. 

Paine had been a daring blasphemer; 
but in those solemn, silent hours which 
precede dissolution, his coward soul began 
to trenible. With no fear of God, in any 
sense other than belongs to devils, he had 
a horrid fear of death, and seems to have 
had some very alarming apprehensions of 
what was to follow. He was restless, 
sighed heavily, groaned fearfully, and 
when alone, and supposing himself un- 
heard, he would attempt to pray. The 
servant once found him on his knees on 
the bed, crying "God, help me, help me ! 
Christ, Jesus Christ, help me !" My 
brotner had learned these facts, and ap- 
proaching his bed side, gently enquired 
of him whether he now believed in Jesus 
Christ ? His countenance assumed a look 
of fury, he jerked himself over in the bed, 
turning his face towards the wall, and 
thundered out, "No!" "But you pray 
to Jesus Christ, and ask him to help you; 
do you believe him to be a divine being ?" 
"No!" "Do you wish me to pray for 
you ?" "No !" He similar answers to 
all Christian enquirers, who would have 
gladly Sriren to do him good; and y«ttho 



moment they were gone his fear so mas- 
tered him, that he commenced groaning 
again and crying for help. And thus, in 
a horrible strife betjveen stubborn dogged 
pride and dastard fear, he wrung out the 
last miserable hours of his existence in 
this world. 

Probably no man ever did more exten» 
sive injury to his race than this most 
wretched being. Voltaire and his asso- 
ciates made, it is true, far more splendid, 
certainly more able and perhaps more ma- 
licious assaults on Christianity; but they 
did not, like Paine, write for the million. 
They addressed themselves to scholars, 
to men of wit and taste and cultivation; 
but Tom Paine put his book into the hand; 
of the artisan, the sailor, the apprentice 
the school boy; it was found behind tl 
milliner's counter, and under the pillow 
the boarding-school miss. Edition af 
edition went off with rapidity; it was ' 
duced to the very cheapest and coai*' 
form, so as to be in reach of the po^^' 
of those who read at all. Refutatio''^'" 
ter refutation appeared, hut the inff-'pn 
spread with the rapidity of ^ plague, '^il^ 
the antidote lay unheeded on the s'lf- — 
For a time infidelity was rife throi'liout 
our land; and 1 regret to say that <e well 
known sentiments of the most pr.ninent 
and the most popiilar man in it, lent a 
fearful sanction to all who loved i 

But let us rejoice that that das. day is 
past; let us thank God that our greatest 
men do not blush to avow, in tie highest 
places, their firm belief in the triCh of the 
revelation. While John Mai-shal, Joseph 
Story, and Henry Clay, find the evidence 
of the Bible's truth impregnable verity, 
let no youthful socialist swell with the con- 
soling conviction that he owns a mind too 
discriminating and too strong to be gulled 
by old wives' fables. — Arthur's Hmne Ga- 
zette. 



TnE Poor. — A very large meeting of 
he Shirt Sewers was recently held in 
New York city for the purpose of devi- 
sing means to remedy their present op- 
pwssed condition. It was there stated 
that there are in the city, 6000 of this poor 
and defenceless class of females, who un-. 
der the estortion of modern Shylocks, are 
scarce enabled to keep soul and body to* 
gether, by th«ir incessant toil. The pri^* 
lor making cheap shirts for the shops, yas 
there reported to be from 8 to :0 cents 
each; for making collars, 1, 2, and 3 cents 
each. Well may they eiclaisn with 
mournful truth — 

•'Oil men, with sisters dear; 

Oh men, ■witirmothers and wives. 
It is not linen you're "(rearing oit. 

It's human creature's lives." 



Georoe the Second being informed 
that an imprudent printer was to be pun- 
ished for publishing a spurious royal 
apeech, he answered that he hoped the 
man's punishment would be of the mild- 
est sort, because he read both, and, so 
far as he understood either of them, he 
liked the spurious speech better than his 
own. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



89 



"Nisi dominus, frnstra." 



M. HILLSJIAN, 

AKD THE FACULTY OF UNION UNIVEB.SIIT, 

Editors and Proprietors. 




DECEMBER 1, 1861 . 



OUR PAPER. 

The success with which the experiment 
of starting the publication of the Classic 
Union has met, encourages us to believe 
that we were not mistaken in the opinion 
that such a paper would meet with public 
favor, and supply a vacuum in our Period- 
ical Literature. With scarcelj' any effort 
to push it into circulation we have receiv- 
ed a respectable subscription list, extend- 
ing into five or six states; and from the 
number of voluntary subscribers sending 
in their names, we feel confident that we 
will soon be established on a permanent 
basis. 

It has been our object to furnish a use- 
ful and attractive family paper, and from 
the number of communications which we 
have received, we flatter ourselves that we 
have not been altogether unsuccessful. We 
have fallen short however, of what we de- 
sired to make it, and design to Ifid such 
improvement as will greatly increase its 
interest and usefulness. 

We think we do not say too much when 
we claim to furnish one of the cheapest 
papers in the south west, furnishing as 
much reading matter for as little cash. 
Will not our friends in various directions 
do us the favor to procure additional sub- 
scribers? We are sure that a great many 
persons are ready to subscribe if only ask- 
ed to do so. We will take- it as a great 
favor for any so far to interest themselves 
as to send us one or more supscribers. 
Who will do it? H. 



We take the opportunity cf retm-ning 
our thanks to the press generally, to whom 
we have sent copies of our paper, for the 
many flattering notices we have received, 
sod for the favor of exehanges. H. 



CORRECT ORTHOGRAPHY. 
It is no credit to spell well but not to do 
so, is very disreputable. We may peruse 
the private communication of a friend and 
have our respect for him much enhanced 
by his generous feelings and noble senti- 
ments, yet we do esteem him the more be- 
cause he has committed no orthographical- 
mistakes. But if he misspell, though his 
ideas are clothed in the finest terms, the 
only emotion that arises in our mind is 
one of surprise, that a person whose con- 
versation is so intelligent and instructive, 
should be deficient in the first rudiments of 
an education. An individual may by his 
pleasing manner, glowing language and 
sublime strains in oratory win the admira- 
tion of an audience, but if it is ascertain- 
ed that he cannot spell the words he uses 
so fluently an unfavorable reaction takes 
place and his hearers consider him a learn- 
ed fool. Hence, good spelling is essential 
to attain any degree of literary eminence 
and without it the finest talents will r^2- 
ceive but little commendation. 

The importance of correct 5rlhography 
is universally admitted but it is not duly 
appreciated. This is evident from the 
great deficiency of many pers jns in this 
respect. Men of considerable information 
who have excellent ideas and use fine lan- 
guage in expresbing them cannot spell 
their words. Numerous manuscripts con- 
taining good matter that are intended for 
pubUcation, are so replete with misspelled 
words that if published without correction 
the authors themselves would be astonish- 
ed. And if we read the written advertise- 
ments and notices of substantial citizens 
that are posted at the court-house, and 
other places we are amused at their ortho- 
graphical blunders. Now all these per- 
sons acknowledge the importance of good 
spelling, but they do not ajjpreciate it or 
they would turn their attention to acquir- 
ing a knowledge of it. They assent to the 
proposition, but do not feel its truth suffi- 
ciently to act and secure to themselves the 
qualification they admit to be valuable. 

This deficiency in the education of ma- 
ny persons results from a superficial man- 
ner of passing over the primary studies. 
It is thought that a knowledge of orthog- 
raphy can be acquired in a short time and 
if an instructor, who is desirojis that his 
pupils should be thorough in this branch, 
has them continue long at it, the parents 
become dissatisfied and withdraw their 
patronage, because their neighbors' sons 
who are neither older nor brighter but who 
attend a different school, are apparently 
the farthest advanced. This opinion is 



erroneous. For to comprehend the or- 
thography of our language it must be the 
study of the child, the youth and the 
young man. And tlie course some parents 
have pursued ha.» been the cause of plac- 
ing young men even in the College classes 
who cannot spell and until the existing 
anxiety to pass over the primary depart- 
ment ceases we will have miserable spell- 
ers. T. 



CABINET OF U. UNIVERSITY. 
Rare and valuable contributions have 
recently been made to our Cabinet; but 
not so many as might have been made- 
Almost every person has it in his power to 
contribute something to a knowledge of 
the mineral and agricultural wealth of our 
country. 

The great distinguishing geological feat- 
ures of the Mississippi valley are here pre- 
sented in a compass small enough and full 
enough, for every one to become familiar 
with, and this is and ought to be, to us, of 
the first iinportance in studying the scien- 
ce. These, can, in a great measure be il- 
lustrated with specimens, and in ailu, from 
our vicinity, but there are objects of curi- 
osity and scientific interest which many 
cannot buy, but which are cheerfully pre- 
sented by the friends of education, of sci- 
ence, and we may say. of their country. 
We hope our friends will continue to swell 
the list we give below. We begin with the 
ladies. 

Mrs. James, Charlotte, Ten. Speci- 
mens of Tennessee Iron ore. 

Mrs. Becton, Murfreesborough, Ten. 
A number of beautiful shells. 

Mrs. W. L. Murfree, Muifreesborough, 
Ten. Some rare and very perfect shells 
from Cuba. 

Dr. Baskette, Murfreesborough, Ten. 
A blind Cray fish (from the Mammoth 
Cave,) Crustacea Deaapoda Macroura. 

Mrs. W. Manev, Franklin, Ten. Lead 
ores from Arkansas. 

Jno. Bell, Jr. Esqr. Fine specimens 
of Coal. — Jet Bath Springs. 

Dr. G. W. Burton, Specimens from 
Athens, Pompeii, Vera Cruz, and many 
other places — 50 in all. 

Hon. Turner Vaughn. Mammoth 
bones. Basalt &c. (About 230 specimens.) 
Rock Crystal, (Quartz) Hot Springs, Ark. 

We will give more in our next num- 
ber. D. 



NOTICE. 
The Trustees of Union University arc reques- 
ted to meet on the 24th inst., in the Cliapel of 
the University, at 1 1 o'clock, A.M. 

By order of the President, 
Det. 1, 1851. J. H, EATOM-. 



90 



CLASSIC UNION. 



RELIGION IN THE UNITED STAT]ES^ . 

There seems to us sometliing peculiarly 
appropriate in the calling together of the 
people of the differeat Stales, b}' their 
respective Governors, to oflTer up selemn 
thanksgiving and praise to the great Au- 
tlior of all our blessings. This move- 
ment indicates the increasing religious 
feelings of the people, and pomts to the 
religion of the country as the tru^ source 
of our liberties and prosperity as a Na- 
tion, and developos traces of divine gui- 
dance for which our special praises are 
due the great Disposer of men and na- 
tions. Politicians and "others are wont to 
deal in rhapsody and towering elOqiience 
when speaking of the wisdoih of our fa- 
thers and the glory of the Republic which 
they projected, defended, and handed 
down to their chddren, but the true source 
of their wisdom, .and that which consti- 
tutes the excellency of- our institutions is 
rarely understood or appreciated. It 
seems to us that the prophecies of the 
Scriptures point with remarkable clear- 
ness to this country as the asylum of the 
church — the place prepared in the wilder- 
ness as a refuge from the Apocalyptic 
Dragon ; and that the Divine Hand is as 
clearly seen in the religious developments 
of the country, as formerly in the Israeli- 
tish nation. If New England had been 
colonized when first discovered, old Eng- 
lish institutions would have been planted 
and maintained undej strong Papal influ- 
ence and power — had it been in the reign 
of Elizabeth, it would have been before 
the activity of the public mind in religion 
bad conducted to a corresponding activity 
in politics. The first settlers were Eng- 
lishmen and Protestants, esiled for reli- 
gion ; they had groaned under the op- 
pression of ecclesiastical hierarchies of 
Europe ; and sighing for the liberty of 
worshiping God according to the dictates 
of their conscience, were williHg to haz- 
ard) their lives in the wilds of the new 
■world to obtain it. 

But the Puritan settlers of New Eng- 
land, with their rugged experience, and 
panting after liberty of conscience, did 
not understand the true idea of religious 
liberty. They wished to be free them- 
selves, and sought to establish a govern- 
ment that would secure it, but in protect- 
ing themselves from oppression, and se- 
curing a sufficient safe guard to their reli- 
gious tenets, they fell into the error of 
their persecutors, united the civil and ec- 
clesiastical authorities and giving the 
civil magistrate jurisdiction over the con- 



science, in turn became themselves the 
oppressors of others. Such had been 
their education and early theological train- 
ing; and so long had all Europe practiced 
such a union it is not marvelous that they 
should not at once hit upon the true Scrip- 
tural idea. But it was not the pm-pose of 
the God of his people that religion in this 
nation should be bound, or that they 
should persecute their brethren." 
• At last the trlie idea was discovered, 
asif the result of the genius of "asinu-le 
individual, and announced by Roger Wil- 
liams in the simple prapo^ilioTi of the sanc- 
tity of conscience. The'applicatiqn of this 
new principle — " that the civil magis'ratv 
has. no jurisdiction over the conscience," 
was properly regarded as' subversive of the- 
government of the country, rind conse- 
quently met with strong and for a time 
overpowering opposition, but finally it 
triumphed and became a corner stone in 
the great temple of American liberty. — 
Mr. Bancroft says — -'Roger Williams as- 
serted the great -doctrine of intellectual 
liberty. It became his glory to found a 
State upon ihai principle and tostamp him- 
self upon its rising institutions in charac- 
ters so deep that theimpicss remains uniil 
the present day, and can never be erased 
without the dcstrucuon of the whole work. 
— The principles which he first sustained 
amidst the bickerings of a collonial parish, 
he soon found occasion to publish to the 
world and defend as the basis of religious 
freedom to mankind.- So that we may 
ccmpare him to the lark, the pleasent bird 
of the peaceful summer that affecting to 
soar aloft springs upward from the ground, 
takes his rise from pale to tree, and at last, 
surmounting the highest hill, utters his 
clear carols through the skies of mornino-. 
He was the first person in modern Chris- 
tendom to assert in its plenitude the doc- 
trine of the liberty of conscience — the 
equality of opinions before the law, and 
in its defense he was the harbinger of Mil- 
ton, the precurser and superior of JEREiir 
Ta7lor. Taylor limited his toleration to 
a few christian sects - V/illiams would per- 
mitpersecution ofno opinion, of no religion, 
leaving heresy unharmed by law, and or- 
thodoxy unprotected by the terrors of pe- 
nal statutes." These principles being de- 
veloped, and infused into the minds of the 
people, they were carefully guarded by 
the provisions of the constitution of these 
States; and religion being once more left 
free to work out its own results, without 
the aid of human legislation, has in turn 
by its sacred influence on the moral senti- 
meat of the people, be<«)me 4 gafB-j^uard 



to our civil and political institutions.- But 
for the religious sentiments of the masses 
of this nation, the Union would no more 
remain amidst the storms of political and 
Sectional strife, that often rise, than the 
w;eakest vessel would withstand the dash- 
ing s,urges of a -tempest driven ocean, or 
the mighty crushings of huge mountains 
of ice. . But our people are a religious 
people, and though divided into sects and 
pTirties the government protects each alike, 
is a friend of each, and draws to its sup- 
!port the combined inlluence of all. The 
people being religious regard scrupulously 
the obligations of an oath, and the sanciity 
of the laws. And thus does the leligio-us 
sentiment of the people sustain and per- 
petuate the liberties of the people, by up- 
holding civil government, while it spreads 
its own sacred principles abroad, working 
out tlie redemption of the soul from sin, 
and giving to the captive true and eternal 
liberty. The following view of the subject 
is from the thirteenth edition of De Toc- 
queville's work on Democracy published 
in France, as given by Mr. Chevalier in 
his review. '-It is easy to show how much 
the Democratic Republic of the United 
States is due to the reliffious feeling of the 
peoj]le. In Europe most of the disorder 
to society has its origin in the domestic cir- 
cle, and not far from the nuptial couch. — 
Frequently the European finds it difBcult 
to submit to tlie powers of the State only 
because tumultuous passions agitate his 
own dwelling, and that he is there a prey 
to the uneasiness of the heart or the insta- 
bility of desire. In the United States the 
residence of the citizen is the imsge of 
order and peace. North America accor- 
ding to the unanimous opinion of all who 
have visilftdit, is the country where the 
conjugal tie is most respected, and where 
conjugal happiness is the most apprecia- 
ted. 

This good state of morals in America 
had its origin in religious faith. Religion 
would probably be powerless to restrain 
man in the presence of temptation with 
which he is assailed by fortune ; but it 
reigns supreme over the mind of woman, 
and it is woman who forms public morals. 
As long as Americans shall preserve the 
severity of their moral conduct, they will 
preserve the Democratic Republic. If 
their morals become relaxed, if they be- 
come vicious, it will be because religion 
has been deprived of its auihority. In- 
stead of a free nation there will be a de- 
graded mass, governed by the corrupt 
rich. Republican institutions ic.'.y exist 
io aame, Irut the name will be a decoption- 



CLASSIC UNION. 



91 



It will be like the Roman Republic whicli 
which existed in name under the Caesars, 
but the reality of which had completely 
disappeared. In the United States reli- 
gion also governs tha mind, restrains it in 
its abberations, and thus becomes a guar- 
antee of the duration of the Republic. — 
Everybody in the United States profes'ses 
religious dogmas. The small number 
who are not sincere christians eCect lo be 
so, lest they should be suspected of hay- 
ing no religion. Christianity, therefore, ! 
has an external adhesion which is linani- [ 
mous. I 

The result of this is that in the moral ' 
world every thing is fixed, although the 
political world may appear to be given iip j 
to discussion and rash experiments. The j 
human mind in the United States has not ] 
before it an unlimited space; however bold 
it may be, it feels that there are insurmoun- ; 
table barriers before which it must stop. 
Hence it happens that in all classes there j 
is a certain restraint, either voluntary or 
the result ot force. In this manner men 
of revolutionary tendencies ar^ constantly : 
compelled to profess if they do not feel a 
respect for christian morality, and conse- ' 
quently for equity which is the substance 
of Christianity. If they could rise above ! 
this scruple, or if they had no scruple they [ 
would be restrained by those of their parti- 
zans. Thus in the United States there is 
no person who will dare to put forward the 
maxim that every thing may be permitted 
in the interest of the state and of society — 
a tyrannical maxim which prevailed to our 
misfortune in the first French Revolution, 
and which the second has hitherto , not- 
withstanding its fsults imperatively reject- 
ed.'. 

Those who wish to promote the best in- 
terest of the country may be assisted by 
these observations and views to the proper 
point of effort, and learn the true source 
from whence their blessings are derived 
the b.slIl;ion of the countiy. H 



DANCING. 
That dancing in the popular sense is an 
evil and incompatible vviLh the relioion of 
Christ is as demonstrable as any other 
proposition in morals or religiori. To sup- 
port this aflirraation it is not requisite that 
we should produce anv specific Scriptural 
prohibition. The Bible is a book of prin- 
ciples aiid practices, as well as of laws and 
doctrines, and moral duiies deduced from 
its principles are as obligatory as those 
more clearly defined by a specific law. — 
The obligation or duty of benevolence, 
the performance of acts of kindness and 



good to our fellow-men, is enjoined in gen- 
eral terms, yet it involves every variety 
of action by which we can. contribute to 
the happiness of our fellow-men. It, was 
impossible to. specify every condi-tion in. 
which rneIV^yo■ald be entitled te tlw assis- 
tance of others, or in- which it slto-uli be 
rendered, i[ was enough t6. teach i: ;i's a. 
general principle of Christianity, from 
which every individual may clearly infer 
his duty in eveay case that may.ariiebe- \ 
fore him. ''Slt was also impos^sihle to Siec- \ 
if}' every particujar ac:ion which was for- 
bidden by the Gospel, but it lays down 
general principles from which tlM;. in light- 
ened, etmscieiice may deduce its proper 
course pf action 'in relation to all mora' 
subjects that may arise before it. This- 
method isfecognised by men in other de-, 
partments of human responsibility as be- 
ing proper and sufficient to limit their ac- 
tions. The constitution of our, govern- 1 
ment while it defines specifically some of 
its doctrines and practices, teaches many! 
things in general principles, and as clearly 
prohibits many things not specified by 
name, as it does others that are. 

" Be not conformed to this world but 
be ye transformed by the running of your 
minds" is an injunction of the saci-ed 
Scriptures, binding on all the disciples of 
Christ. By " this world" is described the 
irreligious as distinguished from the King- 
dom of God. Of the " dead in tresspasses 
and sins" it is said they walked, "accor- 
ding to the course of this world," but of 
believers, " )'e are not of this world" but 
" fellow-citizens of the saints, and of the 
household of God." This injunction as 
clearly covers every act of conformity to 
the world, as " to do good unto all men" 
implies every act of good which is per- 
formed by Christians to their fellow-men. 
Dancing is most assuredly a worldly prac- 
tice, invented for the gratification of the 
flesh and its carnal desires. No person, 
perhaps, can assign truthfully any other 
reason for engaging in the exercise. The 
best reason that can in fairness be given 
by most professed Christians who approve 
of dancing, for their course, is that it is 
right to conform to the social habits and 
customs of society. But this is the very 
thing forbidden by the Scriptures. Soci- 
ety is made up of the most part by the 
irreligious, and it is the duty of Christians 
to seek to mould society after the teach- 
ings of Christ, instead of themselves con- 
forming to the fashions of the world. 

That fa.shionable dancing is deleterious 
to religion is the deliberate opinion of all 
the wisest and most devoted Christians; is 



obvious from the deterioration of Godliness 
and Christian zeal in- all who practice it; 
and the usually defective piety of those 
who advocate It. -Add to this the loiv es- 
timate plac^ upon the Christian character 
of the 'dancer: b,<- the irreligious, and the 
consequent p'rostratioa of Christian influ- 
ence before the world; and the judgement 
of .every candid^. mind must decide the 
unJawfulness of the practice to the profess- 
ed disciples of the Son of God. 

To make out a prohibition to the Chris- 
tian, it is not necessary that the testimony 
again.^t dancing be placed beyond doubt,it 
is only necessary that it raise a doubt in the 
mind as taits lawfulness. It is a well de- 
fined moral principle laid down in the Bi- 
ble, that a doubi as to the correctness of an 
action possesses the force, of a prohibition. 
" He that doubteth is damned, if he eat- 
eth," said the Apostle when speaking of 
meat offered to idols, when at the same 
time he admitted the thing to be in itself 
indifferent. To act against a doubt, when 
there is no doubt of the innocence of not 
acting, shows a recklessness of moral 
principle that would not hesitate to violate 
a specific command, for the sake of grati- 
fying the desires of the flesh. If then the 
moral and religious aspect of dancing is 
such as to bring the mind to doubt its pro- 
priety, that doubt may no more be tram- 
pled under foot, than an express precept 
uttered by the law of God.- 

There are many professors of religion 
who are too consciencious themselves t-o 
visit the Bail Room, and dancing party, 
but do not hesitate to sanction and en- 
courage it in their children and others — 
parents who acknowledge their obligation 
to bring up their children in " the nurture 
and admonition of the Lord' do not hesi- 
tate to spend money and time in teaching 
their children a practice which may lead 
them down to the chambers of death. — 
If such parents thought a potion pres- 
cribed to their children, would multiply 
the probabilities of their dicing, and could 
not possibly promote health, no induce- 
ment would be sufficient to cause them 
to administer it. But in religion they 
minister to the depraved appetite of their 
oflspring, principles the tendency of which, 
is to foster pride, worldly pleasure and 
alienation from piety, and fearfully in- 
crease the probabilities of their reaping 
" shame and everlasting contempt," in the 
charnel house of eternal death. How 
great the risk, and how fearfulihe respon- 
sibihty ! H. 



Tea. — The annual consumption of tea in the 
United States is about 18,000,000 pounds. 



92 



CLASSIC UNION, 



From Mr. J. H. B's speech, ddisercd to the 
Junior order of the Sons of Tanperance. 

Appetites, if in a beastly manner are 
carried to excess, blunt, the apprehension, 
the judgment and reasoning faculty. — 
Without apprehension we could have no 
conception of any mental act, or operation 
of the mind, and if the judgment be dis- 
ordered there could be no comparing of 
the ideas of apprehension, pronouncing 
whether they agree, or disagree, and un- 
assisted by the reasoning faculty, we could 
have no correct knowledge of the ideas 
compared, we could not proceed from one 
judgment to another; and bereft of these, 
we want wisdom to stay us and like a ship 
out upon the trackless deep in the midst 
of a howling storm without a helm to 
guide her, is sent- to a sad and dreadful 
destruction, by the too strong gale. What 
will become of our physical organization? 
Itt-cannot long encounter the tide; the ali- 
mentary and secretive organs loose their 
power of giving animation to the system, 
and like yonder plant upon a sandy plain 
for want of soil soon sickens and dies. — 
You must be aware, that, when you have 
taken to excess the luxuries of a good din^ 
ner, the perceptive organs are in a great 
measure rendered inactive, that they loose. 
a part of their brilliancy, and that a kind 
of torpitude or sluggishness is produced 
in the system, nor is the mind alone inactive, 
but tlie body also; and thus daily feeding 
jour alimentativeness, mind and body 
must decay as a natural consequence. — 
So it is with any other appetite. It will 
not do to gratify oeoasionally the natural 
appetite, for this process goes on in virtue 
of a great law of humanity; something i 
which is essential and ultimate is formed i 
and this is habit. As I remarked in the | 
outset, originally the gratification of these j 
appetites were intended for pleasure, and j 
the more we gratify them, the more nu- 
merous they become; they also become 
more obtuse and dull, that is, the pleasure 
we receive, and ere we are aware a great 
law has seized hold of us, and that which 
was at first pleasing and cheerful, now 
presses like a coat of iron and galls like 
fetters of steel; and every indulgence is a 
new weight to that, which was previously 
placed upon us, thus lessening the proba- 
bility of escape and accelerating us to a 
gloomy, fearful and interminable sinking. 
Remember there is no sin so small, but 
what may produce great and vile effects, 
and transgressing in this little sin again 
and again, you little by little will begin to 
fall and falling you will sink into the gulf 



despairing. " The ocean vast, dark heav- 
ing, boundless, endless, sublime," — with 
ten thousand fleets sweeping over its 
bosoms, was made of drops. "Th* tian- 
gerous bar in the harbor's mouth is only 
grains of sand," and theshoal that hath 
wi-ecked navies, is but the work of a colony 
of ephemeral insects: "For atoms must 
crowd upon atoms ere crime groweth to 
be a giant." If you nourish in your 
hearts the reveries of passion, how 
soon will you grieve, if the voice of con- 
science be not hushed, that these buds 
have ripened into passion. I would ask- — 
where is the gain in the gratification of 
these beastl}' propensities? What honors 
are heaped upon you? What good do 
communities derive from your mernber- 
ship? Is there not rather a loss than a 
gain in such a mode of conduct? Areiiot 
all grades of society connected by a link 
somewhere, and will not your influence be 
indirectly felt by the best of people? — 
Honestly and candidly answer these ques- 
tions. What does that young man gain 
whose sole and chief object is the grat- 
ification of his ahmentanveness ? Where 
is the honor, where is the gain ? When 
is the- happy influence upon his fellows ? 
He cares not for the world; he turns a 
deaf ear to consciousness and soon all is 
lost in gluttony, and in return for his in- 
dulgence, the faculties ol the mind are 
rendered dull and inactive, nature with all 
of her beauties animates him not, music 
charms him not, all refined feelings are 
entombed in sensual grossness, fame's 
clarion toned trumpet awakes him not, 
reputation's self-approving comes to 'his 
ears, and he is unmoved, poetry with its 
enrapturing and vivifying influences fails 
to arouse his sluggishness, he mopes about 
in restlessness, — he is burden to himself — 
perhaps the gout with its piercing pains, 
or dyspepsia seizes hold of him, and he 
finally falls a victim to his appetite "un- 
wept, unhonored and unsung." W.hat 
doesthat young man in his midnight rev- 
elries, when "old earth" is wrapt in som- 
ber shades ! Ah ! fair Cynthia may smile 
her placid beams upon him to detract his 
attention from midnight vitiations; the 
twinkling stars may shoot their lovely rays i 
about him, or the floating clouds may 
frown angrily upon him and thus drive 
him home ashamed, but excess drags him ' 
on, soon blooming health begins to fade — 
honoir flees, and wealih is squandered, 
and finally he falls with his haggard fea- 
tures dishonored, discountenanced into the 
whirlpool of destruction, and soon is for- 
gotten among men, or is only remembered 



by the. discordant, notes, his name pro- 
duces when perchance it is mentioned. 
"A night of fretful passion may consume. 
All that thou hast of beauty's gentle bloom." . 
What honor accrues to that young man 
who often is seen at the card table with-its 
hellish influences ! If he wins millions, 
it does not bring with it honor or respect, 
nor does it secure happiness. He may 
think he will reform, but ere he is aware 
he is enticed by his wicked -associates into 
crime. I see him approaching the sink 
of perdition — his eyes are red and swollen 
— ^liis features pale and emaciated, — he is 
Ijthto enter, — :perhaps the warning voice 
of his solicitous parents is ringing in his 
ears, — conscience find stormy, vehement 
passion have come in colUsion — he stops — 
he ponders — 

" Vice is a monster of so frightful mein. 
As to be dreaded, needs but to be seen 
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face 
We first endure, then pity, then embrace." 

Ah ! conscience is lost in the whirlwind 
of passion — he enters, and if stripped of 
his money all is gone — an outcast upon so- 
ciety — a curse to his friends and relations, 
disgraced, abashed he falls to rise no more. 
More than this, other vices attend the 
gambler. His passions are excited by in- 
haling the damning atmosphere around, 
he is led to commit deeds of robbery and 
murder, and ere he is aware, he is sum- ■ 
moned to appear before the tribunal seat of 
his country, there to await the decisions 
of justice. Perhaps he will be safely 
lodged in the penitentiary, or be compell- 
ed to take his exit to thai "bourne from 
whence no traveller returns." Where does 
the gambler stand in the estimation of the 
world? He is regardedby the respectable 
and honorable as a loathesome, detestable 
nuisance to society. All decent men 
shun him. How many families are 
brought to misery and want by indulging 
in this sin ? — how many gray hairs are 
fallen into the grave with sorrow — hpw 
many widows and orphan children are 
brought to sufler even in one night's dissi- 
pation. Oh ! that the tears and rending 
agonies of orphan children and disconso- 
late wives could be turned into hot streams 
of melted lava that it might be continual- 
ly poured out upon the guilty souls of 
those who keep these houses of his satanic 
majesty, to entice and allure the young 
and old from the paths of rectitude and 
virtue. 

" Look round, the wrecks of play behold. 

Estates dismembered, mortgag'd, sold; — 

Their owners now to jails confined 

Show equal poverty of mind." 

What does that young man gain, who 
visits the grog shop to spend his money for 
an article which is in its very nature a strong^ 



CLASSIC UNION. 



93 



virulent poison ? Stop ! think ! one mo- 
ment where that money goes. Do you 
know who suffers from the interchanging 
of that mite? Look out and behold yon- 
■ der cabin almost roofless. Wretched look- 
ing abode. The liquor vender has been 
able to supply his shop with the fiery, 



her and protect her,, but he was bared by 
the ,s} ran voice of the tempter, under the 
mask of kindness to follow the road of 
eternal destruction. Perhaps he too was 
a gay and happy young man, ere vice per- 
suaded from the path of sobriety, and of 
years to come he had- the promises of 



that almost deserted Imt and look, at the 
wreck. I see a mother — poor mother! 
who when a girl was lovely, gentle, meek. 
She was the bloom of health — the picture 
of innocence and mirth, perhaps often in 
her imaginary dreams, she painted out the 
pleasure and happiness that would be hers. 
The pride of her pai-ents and the joy of 
her brotherhood. Cheerfully she spent 
her youthful days in bright and sunny 
skies, but now behold her in nrisery and 
want. The rosy glow of her cheek has 
faded — her once sparkling eyes have be- 
come dim — her smiling countenance has 
become furrowed with grief, — her joyful 
heart has been chilled, — her vivacity has 
been turned into pensive musings, — her 
light and gay steps into reeling. No warm 
clothing covers her sufi'ering frame. — 
There she sits — an altered, miserable be- 
ing, not as in days of old in a warm and 
close room, but over a few coals and al- 
most houseless. No bed save a few hard 
puncheons to lie upon. " 'Tis a dark and 
dreary night, and piercing cold; the clock 
strikes twelve, — icicles have protruded 
from the eaves of the house, — the snow 
falls fast. I hear a northern blast whistle, 
it fails not to visit that watcher, ' pale and 
tearful,' through the unchinked cracks 
— she shudders and draws her stool closer 
to the live coals — her children, objects of 
commiseration, lie at her feet unconscious 
of her maternal care as often she bends 
her form over them, to feel their breath 
upon her to know whether they live or not, 
and as she regains her sitting posture — 
she hfts a bundle of tattered clothes — Ah 
it is her babe, poor little innocent babe. — 
She presses it to her bosom. I see tears 
trickle down her faded cheek, but hark ! 
she startles as a noise |without she hears. 
Who wishes her harm ? There is nothing 
there to bid her to disturb her melancholv 
meditations, no midnight assassin desires 
to drink her heart's blood, ah! no, she 
fears not these — her patrimony is gone, her 
innocent hands never did harm, still she 
trembles — draws back in fear — she presses 
her babe closer to her bosom and then 
cast a tearful glance at her feet and then 
a look of horror at the door. Methinks 



sparkling, insinuating poison, by means of j fondest hope, bright anticipations of the 
the money you gave him. Now approach j future. Fancy's dreams delighted his 

young and enthusiastic heart, but alas! 
for him, his days were out ^short and all 
too by the gratification of hiS appetite and 
passions. Oh I - young man !■ old grey 
heads !. where 1 oh wher« ! is the honor, 
the gain y-ou have made ? where are 
those, who will rise up and call you bless- 
ed for spending your money for an article 
for which you receive no equivalent, and 
thus establishing an enemy to break up 
our wide sprea^d plains of social and do- 
mestic happiness, "the only bliss of para- 
dise that has survived the fall," and to 
make wretched nien, disconsolate wives," 
orphan children, all too by the gratifica- 
tion of your beastly appetites. You place 
in the hands of the company of the devil 
the means to buy souls not only for tem- 
poral misery, but souls for the eternal 
'groanings and gnashing of teeth. 'Tis 
enough: But what else do you accomplish. 
You form a habit, and this habit finally 
fastens you to her wheels and drags you 
on with unerring aim down to degradation 

and at last to fill a drunkard's grave. It 
makes you victim of an implacable desti- 
ny. Instead of that healthy and manly 
appearance, swollen eyes, bloated and 
distorted features, bloodless lips. — Enthu- 
siasm of )'our boyhood departs, — poverty 
seizes hold of you, degradation encircles 
you, want stares you in the face, disappro- 
bation lays her hands upon your feelings, 
— misery throws her arms around you, 
honor "takes wings and flies away," tat- 
tered garments and rags cover your per- 
son, — a gnawing and restless appetite 
feeds upon your vitals — death approaches, 
— the grave opens and you into its bosom 
a loathesome, degraded and dishonored 
man, nay — a drunken vagabond. 



What a singular medly a newspaper 
must be. In one column you will find 
a labored and swelling eulogy of departed 
greatness, apparently written with tears 
and inspired by sorrow; in the next ap- 
pears the history of the crops; anon oc- 
cur a witticism; next comes a circus puff", 
or a recommendation of ice-cream, then 
follows the deaths and marriages. — All 
tastes (and no tastes at all) must be con- 
sulted. Sorrows and fun, business and 
nonsense, must all find a place in the folio 
of our pages, or the people will " stop the 
the voice of him who promised to love paper.'' 



MATHEMATICS. 
Wathematical Analysis constitutes the 
first and the most perfect of all the funda- 
mental sciences. The ideas with which it 
occupies itself are the most universal, the 
most abstract, and the most simple which 
it is possible for us to conceive. 

This peculiar nature of mathematical a- 
nalysis enables us easily to explain why, 
when it is properly employed, it is such a 
powerful instrument, not only to give more 
precision to our real knowledge, which is 
self-evident, but especially to establish an 
infinitely more perfect co-ordination in the 
study of the phenoinena which admit of 
that application; for, our conceptions hav- 
ing been so generalized, and simplified that 
a single analytical question abstractly re- 
solved, contains the implicit solution of 
a great number of divers physical ques- 
tions, the human mind must necessarily a- 
quire by these means a greater facility in 
perceiving relations between phenomena 
which at first appeared entirely distinct 
from one another. 

We thus naturally see arise, through the 
medium of analysis, the most frequent and 
the most unexpected approximations be- 
tween problems which at first oifered no 
apparent connection, and which we often 
end in viewing as identical. 

Could we, for example, without the aid 
of analysis, perceive the least resemblance 
between the determination of the direction 
of a curve at each of its points and that of 
the velocity acquired by a body at every 
instant of its variable motion? and yet these 
questions, however different they may be, 
compose but one in the eyes of the geom- 
eter. 

The high relative perfection of mathe- 
matical analysis is as easily perceptible. 
This perfection is not due, as some have 
thought, to the nature of the signs which 
are employed as instruments of reasoning, 
eminently concise and general as they are. 
In reality, all great analytical ideas have 
been formed without the algebraic signs 
having been of any essential aid, except for 
I working them out after the mind conceiv- 
I ed them. 

I The superior conception of the science 
[ of the calculus is due principally to the ex- 
treme simplicity of the ideas which it con- 
siders, by whatever signs they may be ex- 
pressed; so that there is not the least hope, 
by any artifice of scientific language, of 
perfecting to the same degree theories 
which refer to more complex subjects, and 
which are necessarily condemned by their 
nature to a greater or less logical inferior!. 

Ly- AUGUSTE COMTK. 



94 



CLASSIC UNION. 



WRITING SERMONS. 

Nov. 17, 1851. 

Mr. TJditok: I wish to ask yovi a ques- 
tion I wouU be tjkid to see discussed in 
your p-iper: Ouj;lit ministers of the gos- 
pel to write their sermons ? If you will 
give your views on lliis question you -will 

much oblige Your Brother . 

We would answer the question ;. pro- 
posed by our brother in the Htfirmative, 
as a general rule; but we would not insist 
upon it in every case. We think young 
ministers ought-to write out all their ser- 
mons in full, and we will give a few of our 
reasons for thus thinking.- Thi.-i practice 
enables one to think consecutively, clear- 
ly and definitely. His discourses will 
have a beginning, middle and end, fiiid 
not consist of a- rambling train of erher- 
tation, each sentence of which may be 
good in itself, but possessing no- fellowship 
•with each othe. The practice of writing 
out one's sermons will enable hira.to give 
some point and to unfold the meaning of 
the sacred text more fully than he possibly 
could by an extemporaneous liarfang. — 
We believe the opinion has nearly passed 
away, that the Holy Spirit ..«peaks directly 
through the lips of the ministeri Some- 
times, it is true, we. hear an old Father 
as he raises in the pulpit tell the people 
that he is going to give them just what 
the Holy Spirit should dictate, but in his 
closing prayer he asks the Lord to forgive 
all that has been said amiss, which evi- 
dantly implies that he has some doubt 
whether the Holy Spirit really dictated all 
that he had said. 

It is morally impossible foi' a Pastor to 
edify, and build up a church, and instruct 
them thoroughly in the doctrines of the 
gospel, without deep and protracted study. 
He must read and -reflect much, or his 
preaching will soon cease to instruct or 
be useful. If, then, lie must study, what 
objection can there be to liis arresting his 
fleeting thoughts and puttingv-them in a 
permanent form on paper? By this 
means many striking illustrations and 
brilliant conceptions have been preserved 
which otherwise would have been lost. — 
A minister, by writing his thoughts, forms 
a correct style, and is not so hable to make 
grammatical mistakes. He has time to 
ponder -and select the best expressions, 
and in this way bring out his views in a 
clear and perspicuous manner. 

By writing, a minister can condense 
his thou'rhts, by using the shortest and 
most pointed expressions, and this is a 
most valuable acquisition in a public 
speaker. Wc have listened to discourses 



from the pulpit of more than an hour's 
length, every idea of which might have 
been expressed in twenty minutes, and 
still have been more clearly and easily 
comprehended. Many, we fear, conseious 
that they have but little to eommunicate,- 
endeavor to conceal the paucity of their 
ideas beneath a great multitude of words, 
and their sermons consist chiefly in "wind- 
ing" -and "unwinding." 

There' is another question intimately 
connected with the above, and that is, 
ought ministers to read- their sermons in 
their public ministrations? We" answer 
emphaUadbj NO. The people require the 
living, eye and the- living- voice in order to 
be instructed. The command -of the Sa- 
vior is, not -'go j-easc? my. gospel," but "go 
^egacA,"- proclaim it, and we do not believe 
a minister can be as- successful in winning- 
souls by reading the truth as he can by 
preachhig it. Who can feel a sgmpathy 
with a minister who, with eyes cast down 
upon the desk, is reading a production, iio 
matter how fine; and unless he can' awaken 
the sympathies of his hearers, the truth 
he delivers wiU have no more effect than 
the moon beams upon a bank of ice. The 
audience wish to see the glowing counten- 
ance, .thesoul beaming with intense inter- 
est, ■I'nd the movings of the divinitj* with- 
in, or else they will be. profited but litUo. 
Let him write out his sermons in full, and 
read them over till he has the thoughts 
impressed upon the tablets of his meramo- 
ry, and then let him go into the pulpit, 
feeling anxious to inipress upon the minds 
of his hearers the truths which are strug- 
gling for utterance. Under such circum- 
stances he feels niore at home; he is not 
solicitous lest "thirdly'' should fly out at 
the window and leave. him minus the last 
and.m,ost 'irnportant division of his dis- 
course. He may, in order to aid his 
memory, take the heads of his sermon into 
the desk with him, but beyond this he 
should not go. Who ever heard a lawyer 
read his speech to the jury ? and yet we 
know that many lawyers- write their 
speeches,- and why cannot ministers dis- 
cipline themselves to speak as nature re- 
quires, as Well as lawyers ? Is not the 
object for which they plead as iiriportant? 
Let them study and write as much as they 
please, but when they come before the 
people let them talk as other people talk. 
Men of God, dont chain your eyes to an 
old manuscript and not be able to look 
honest people in the face when you are 
directing them to the Savior of the world. 
Let your eyes be free to look up and your 
hands at liberty to point to the Lamb of 
God that taketh away the sins of the 
world." E. 



KATIOWAL CHARACTERISTICS. 

That was a wise saying of an ancient pel 
itician, that he cared not who made law 
for a nation if he could be allowed to maki 
their songs. Macauley states that tht 
overthrow of King James, was more at- 
tributable to the ballads sung in the streets 
of London, than all the political intrigues 
of his enemies. And can we not trace the 
most prominent characteristics that distin- 
guish us as a nation to the Lyric poetry 
which first greeted our ears in the nursery ■ 
The first poetry that was ever composed 
upon the shores of America so far as we 
have any records contained inthefollow- 
ting lines. 

" Rock a bye baby ou the tree top, 
Vriien the -n-ind blows tlie cradle will rock. 
When the bougli breaks rhe cradle will fall 
Aud down goes rock-a-bye baby and all. " 

These truly pathetic and thrilling lines 
were probably suggested by a practice 
common among the puritan women of that 
early period, that of suspending their in- 
fants in basket cradles from limbs of trees, 
that the blowing of the wind might rock 
and lull them into quietness. Whether the 
awful catastrophe alluded to by the Poet, 
that of breaking the limb and the conse- 
quent downfal of cradle, infant and all, e- 
ver actually occured, or whether it was 
wholly the creation of his poetical fancy, 
history does not inform us. Bnt the lines 
themselves as they stand before us, are 
well calculated to arouse the mind and 
produce a lofty and energetic character. 
Here the imagination is carried upward to 
contemplate the tree, waving its proud 
branches in the breeze as if in happy con- 
sciousness of its independence and its 
strength, and there hangs the lielplesc in- 
fant, bourn to and fro in its frail bark liable 
atevery instant to the fearful catastrophy 
to which the fact alludes. What scene 
could be presented to the human mind 
better calculated to arouse its sj'mpathies 
and produce that eager desire to rescue 
those exposed to suffering and danger, for 
which our countrymen are distinguished. 
Another Lyric, which doubtless, has had 
much influence in the formation of our na- 
tional character is this 
• "Littla Jack Horner. 

Sat in the corner. 

Eating s piece of Christmas pie. 

He put in li.is thumb 

And.pulled out a plura. 

And said -what a brave boy am \,." 

The name of the author of this production 
and the poetic circumstances which gave 
rise to the effusion, have, we are sorry to 
say, not descended to our times. But we 
ge« in the produetion itself the marks ot 



CLASSIC UNIOK. 



95 



superior genius and its influence can easily 
be traced in moulding the character of suc- 
ceeding generations. Here we are presen- 
ted with the boy "Jack', to whose posses- 
sion has been committed "a piece of Christ- 
mas pie. " With a moral courage truly 
heroic he represses the eager demands of 
appetite and proceeds to gratify his curios- 
ity in regard to the internal structure of the 
pie, " He puts in his thumb and pulls oiit 
a plum,,' he has now made himself ac- 
quainted with the component elements of 
the object before him and he triuiriphantly 
claims what all will be willi-ng to award U\ 
him the meedof braver}'. What could he 
better calculate to foster that spirit of in- 
quiry — that active curiosity for^whioh we 
are distinguished as a people and which has 
led to so many important discoveries and 
useful inventions. What youth iii our land 
after having the example of "Utile Jack 
Horner" impressed upon his memory, 
would be willing to eat his pie without first 
exploring it? hidden recesses and know- 
ing the ingredients of which it was compo- 
sed; and having commenced ^ career of 
successful experiment, he lii.s induced to 
go forward until the secrets of nature and 
the mysteries of art are all open to his view. 
It ts well known we are a money -loving 
nation. — that pecuniary profits occupy, b}' 
•for, to large a share of our thoughts and 
alfect'.oas. We ave ready to sacrifice at 
the Shrine of Mammon, the higher pleas- 
ures of intellect and moral beings. And 
m;iy not this tr.tit of o.ir national charac- 
ter be traced to the influence of the follow- 
ing lines 

"Sing a sonja sixpence 

A pocket full of rye 

Four and t.venty black biids 

Made up in a pie: 

Wheu th; pie was opened, 

TUe birds began to sing; 

What a daiuty dish is this? 

To set before the King." 
The allusion which is here made to the 
King, proves very clearly that this efl'usion 
is not a native of our own country. It 
was probably brought across the Atlantic 
in connection with those errors of oovern- 
ment and religion which the war of the 
Revolution and the riper experience of the 
Colonies threw aside, But the influence 
of these stanzas still lives and is felt a 
mong us at the present r'.ay. Observe 
how prominent a place the "Sixpence" 
occupies in these lines and you can account 
for the attachment to the "Almighty 
dollar " which is manifested by our people; 
and the conception of " a pocket full of 
rye" is calculated to cultivate acquaint- 
ances and suggest a desire to secure and 



appropriate the productions of the earth. 
And as the image is immediately follow- 
ed by a- descrfpion of the luxury and.«x- 
tr.ivagance. which co:. ere l.the board .of the 
King, so we Had in our couii,u-ymefl.. a dis- 
po^tion, just" as soon as they have -the 
means. 'to ape the luxurious manners arid 
habits of foreign Kings and^PrihceS. Had 
it not been lor the inflTOnce ot these- lines, 
e. migli!, as a people, Luive been more 
consistent in adhereingto the simplicity- o; 
our Republicaa principTes. . If time -would 
would admit, we might trace theinfluence 
of many other Lyrics upon our national 
character — we may, at .some future time, 
pursue the subject further. E. 



THE HEBREV,- LANGUAGE'. 

Three fourths of the Word of God has 
been revealed. to man through the Hebrew 
Language; and noanecan arrive at a cer- 
tain knowledge of that Wor.d without un- 
derstanding the languages in which it was 
written. Every student of the Bible ought 
therefore to be a Hebrew soltolar. Minis-' 
ters of the Gospel and others engaged' in 
the study of the Bible' frequently flatter 
themselves with the idea that they can 
gain a knowledge of the Old Testament 
Scriptures from translaiions and commen- 
taries without a personal acquaintance 
with the lajiguage in which tliej- are writ- 
ten. 

Though much knowledge can be gained 
from these sources, yet we have no hesi- 
tancy in saying that, without- miderslan- 
ding the Original, certain and satisfactory 
knowledge cannot be gained in regard to 
many parts of the Word of God. A stu- 
dent of the Bible, and especially &nmusier, 
ought to know for himself, without rely- 
ing on the opinions of another, the true 
interpretation of every part of the Divine 
Word. He cannot do this while ignorant 
of the language in which it w as originally 
written, but on the contrary, is compelled 
to rely on the opinions of others. And 
expounders of the Bible are so diverse in 
their opinions,, that it is impossible for the 
student ever to satisfy his own mind un- 
less he is able to repair to the Divine Origi- 
nal, and there read lor himself the words 
of the Spirit. 

It is true also of the Scriptures, as of 
other writings, that in the original they 
contain a thousand colorings of thought 
which it is impossible for the best transla- 
tion to give, and which are entirely lost to 
him who reads only the translation. No 
one can fully appreciate the varied bxcel- 
lencies of tne Hebrew Scriptures without 
a kaowicdge of the Hebrew Language. 



Tlie great objection that is urged against 
its being studiedby ministers is that ic re- 
quires too much of their time, which might 
otherwise "be devoted'to liiore useful pur- 
pQses. But the time required to study it 
is really shorter thiin most persons im- 
agine. For one who is acpustom'ed to ' the 
study of languages, and who possesses 
common aptness for. learning them, six 
months of closestudy is amply suflicient 
to acquire such a knowledge of the He- 
brew language, as will enable him, by the 
aid of hi-s. Lexicon^ to read any passage in 
the Word of God. The Hebrew Lan- 
guiige is one of the simplest in tlie world, 
— containing few irregularities, and when 
the grammar, is once mastered, much 
more eaaily learned than either the Greek 
'or Latin. But -if to master it requires 
long years of intense application, it would 
still be worthy of the the i^tuiy of every 
man, since God has made ii the medium 
of communicating his will to 'man. "God 
has established the law In reference to 
every thing else, that nothing valuable 
can he acquired' without labor: and, if to 
understand, his own revealed will be re- 
quired to spend a few days in hard study, 
we ought by no means t* complain, but 
cheeriully to engage in the task as a pleas- 
ing stitdy,- S. 

THOUGHTS AND CLIPPINGS. 

The Poor h.\ve had Exoucn of it. "While 

the City Marshall of one of the towns of Maine 
was pouring out a quantity of liquor upon the 
ground, one in the crowd inquired, "'Why not 
give it to the- poor V" A voioe was heard at 
some distance — "The poor ha\ehad enough of 
it — let it go." 

E.^ppiXG Spirits. — It appears the spirits have 
been writing some passable poetry. In a cer- 
tain town "down East," the company sat aiound 
a table with joined- hands. A sheet of paper 
and a. pencil were placed under the table and 
remained there several minutes and when taken 
up the following lines were found upon it — 
"The one you love, whose absence you deplore. 
Is with you, near you, in your hours of sorrow. 
Waiting to cla'-p you when your task is o'er. 
And you, too, hail the everlasting morrow. 
Then neve.r be thy brow in sadness shaded. 
When friends put off their worn-out robes of 

clay. 
But with the eye of faith and hope be aided 
To see them, newly clad, in robes of day." 

What Makes the Max?— The longer I. live, 
the nioi-e certain I am ^that the great difference 
between men, the great and the insignificant, is 
energy — invincible determination — an honest 
purpose once fixed, and then victory. That 
quality will do any thing that can be done in 
the world ; and no talents ; no circumstances, 
no ofportunity will make a two legged creature 
witiitnit it." 



THE SOUTH.— BT R. H. STOPDARD. - 

rail! thrckly fall! thou winter snow! 

And keenly blow, thou winter wind I 
The North is yours, but far below ^ 
The South doth suit a summer mind; 
So fall and blow. 

Both wind and snow, - , - , 

My fancy to the Soutli doth go! - - . . . 
Half-way between the frozen zones, 
• Where winter rules in sullen mirth, 
The Summer binds a golden belt 
About the middle of the Earth, 
The sky is soft, and blue, and bright. 
With purple dyes at morn and ni^ht: 
And bright and sue the seas which lie 
In perfect rest, and glass the sky; 
And sunny bays with inland curves. 

Round all along the quiet shore f 
And stately palms, in pillared ranks. 
Grow down the borders of the banks. 
" And juts of land where billows roar; 
The inland woods are full of spioe, 

With golden fruits, and crimson flowers; 
And vines do creep from Ijough to bough, 

Aud shed their grapes in purple showers; 
The emerald meadows roll away, _ 

And bask in soft and mellow light; 
The vales are full of silver mist. 

And all the folded hills are bright!— 
But far along the welkin's rim ; 
The purple crags aud peaks are dim; 
And dim the gulfs, and gorges blue, 
With all the Wooded passes deep; 
And steeped in Iiaze, and washed m dew, 

And hathed in atmospheres of sleep! 
Sometimes the dusky islanders 

Lie all day long beneath the trees. 
And watch the white clouds in the sky 

And birds upon the azure seas; ;,; 

Sometimes they wrestle on theturf, 
And chase each other down the grass; 
And sometimes climb the gloomy groves, 

And pluck the fruit with idle hands? 
And dark-eyed maids do braid their hair 

With starry shells, and buds and leaves; 
And sing wild songs in dreamy bowers. 

And dance on dewy eves — 
When daylight melts, and stars are few, 
And west winds frame a drowsy tune, 
While all the charmed waters lie 

Beneath a yellow moon! — 
Here men may dwell, and mock at toil. 

And all the dull mechanic arts; 
No need to till the teeming soil ^ 

With weary hands and aching hearts; 
No want can follow folded palms. 
For Nature will supply their alms. 
With sweets, purveyors cannot bring 
To grace the table of a King: 
And Summer broods o'er land and sea. 
And breathe in all the winds. 
Until her presence fill their hearts 
And moulds their happy minds! 



__GLASSIC_UNION_ 

equip an army of one hundred thousand 
men. Such are the resources of one sin- 
de city in the Union ! On referring to 
the -Army Register (official) of 1860, we 
find the actual organized mllitia force of 
the United States set down in the aggre- 
o-ate at one million nine hundred and sixty 
thousand two hundred and sixty-five men, 
with no report from Iowa, California, or 
the Territories. The total militia force of 
the Union may, therefore, he safely set 
down at two millions of men. There is 
an inherent military spii'it in the Ameri- 
can, and love of military glory as strong 
as in the Frenchman, combined with the 
most practical character in the world.— 
His average height is two or three inches 
taller, and he is vigorous and athletic, and 
in every sense more of the man on the 
average than the European. He is from 
his youth accustomed to the use of arms, 
infield sports and target practice; in fact, 
a detachment of our miUtary infiintry is a 
detachment of sharpshooters.— X F. Ex- 
press. 



JORDAN & WRIGHT, 

DRY GOODS MERCHANTS, 

South Side Public Sa«arc, 

4-Y imRFREESBOROUG H^_TENN. 

Medicine and Dental Surgei-y- 

Br. E. D. "WHEELER, 

Office, Wesl Side of the Public Square, 
■^al-ly MuRFREESBOr.ouGE, Tes?.'. 



Eloquent Philanthkopt.— Judge Niles 
recently made a most eloquent speech in 
the Connecticut Convention in favor of ex- 
empting the Homestead, from which we 
make the following extract: 

I am not ashamed to own that my un- 
derstanding is convinced. I go for it be- 
cause it is Hght in itself; right_ against all 
forms of sophistry; right agamst all ap- 
peals to prejudice and passion, and the love 
of crain; right against the world. The 
ho5e where the ivy and the woodbine 
have been taught to twme by tender hands 
and loving hearts-where the children 
were born and some of them have died- 
where the aged parents still remam, and 
where the :sons and daughters return from 
their distant emigrations to pay tl^eir tnb- 
uteof filial love-the home where all that 
is sacred in life, in death, and m religion 
centers— that home I would protect, not 
by the unstable laws enacted to-morrow 
and repealed the day after, but by const.- 
tutional provisions immutable as truth and 
justice, and enduring as the everlastmg 
hills. 



CHRISTY at STXIWART, 

DRY GOODS MERCHANTS, 

EAST SIDE 

PUBLIC SQUARE, 

Mnr freesboroMgh, Tenn. 

THOS. i;VAl,SH, Resident Dentist, 

Murfreesborough Tenn. 

^^^ Rooms— In the New'.Building adjoin- 
(^^^^ in o- the Methodist Church. _ 

t NB—He^has been negaged in the practice ot 
his profession for the last eleveu years ^^ Char- 

ge s moderate. — • 

Dr. John M. Watson 

HAS settled permanently in ^ashvllle. Me 
will attend to calls both m the city and 
country. Office on Cherry stree t^ au2-t{ 



Dr. \VM. T. BASKETTE, 

HATING permanently settled in Murfreesbo- 
rou-h, offers-his Professional services to 
the citizens of the town and surrounding coun- 
to'.Tu tie practice of the various branches of 

^'''Hr/fficels'on the-East side of the square. 
Hi?reri!:nce,the one formerly owned by Mgor 
Ellis. J ^ — 



GREAT BARGAINS. 

flSi=iBiS W The undersigned are now ready 

^^g: to makTany find of CARRIAGE 

WF"^^^ WORK at the shortest notice and 

in the late»fc ^tyle at the lowest prices. Having 

selected with great care, a the most experiencecl 
and steady hands in the biismess, who will at 
dl times Jndeavor to give.genera «J_tisfaction m 
work, our stock of materials will be of the best 
to be had in this country. r.; „A^ 

We would invite the farmers and our friends 
geneoUy.who wish to hm Carnages, Buffers 
SLULiAiiy, ^ their work, at 

ChI^v F Jt 5 mil" Ur Hur?reesborough 25 
from NasLviUe, immediately on the turnpike. 
Great Bargains will be gn^n.^ ^ ^^tKINS. 



Military Strength of tue United 
States.— The statistics ot the military 
forces and resources of the several nations 
of Europe, which have lately appeared, 
tjresent a formidable warlike aggregate, 
but for all the purposes ot defensive and 
offensive warfare they exhibit nothing 
equal to the internal military __ strength ot 
the United States. In the city of ^ew 
York alone there are one hundred and 
sixty-eight volunteer companies, number- 
in- on an average sixty men each which 
£ri?e a total of ten thousand and eight 
fi.rhting men, equipped and almost lully 
drsciplined. This large body of men are 
subject to no military rules or regulations, 
except those they frame for their own m- 
dividual benefit. A proportionate force 
of artillery and dragoons also exist, and 
which, when added to the former, give the 
nucleus of the military power of the city, 
but if necessity required it, the city oi 
New York in one week could raise and 



O-rThe forty-ninth annual convention 
of the Baptist of Massachusetts was held at 
Fall River on the 29th and 30th ult., the 
Eev. Dr. Bellows presiding. He present- 
ed some interesting statistics, showing the 
o-rowth of the Baptist denomination m Mas- 
sachusetts within the last t^vetity years 
The membership in 1830 was 15,824, in 
1850, 31,344, being a gain of Marly one 
hundred per cent, greater than that o any 
evangelical body in the State. _ In the city 
of Boston, of the three denommations, t e 
Cono-regationalist, the Baptist and the 
Methodist, the congregationahst has made 
the greatest gain, and the BapUst next. 

T adv Franklin has made a very urgent appeal 
toute'iSitytosendoutapowerulst^^^^^^^^^ 
to explore the passage which Capt Penny lunks 

The London Timi-s calls Chartists and Socia- 
lists "political Bloomers-" 



NEW BOOT AND SHOE SHOP. 

THE subscriber would most respectfully 
y mi inform the citizens of Murfreeshorough 
thihehas removed his Shop to the Building 
on he South-west corner of the Square, adjoin- 
?na- the Odd Fellow's Hall, where he is prep^re^ 
olxcute in the neatest and most fashionable 
Ity^ all orders for fine BOOTS and SHOES.- 
He uses none but the best materials, and war- 
rants his work to give satisfaction. His terms 

"tSuI to the public for Ihe very liberal 
patro~xtended to him since he commenced 
^usinesf, he hopes by dose attentron and n,od|- 
rate ch^-ges, to ment a continuance of^the^^me. 

DTwrrAYLORT ~ 

Book anii %ob prhiier. 

4-"'Tu«E"ESB?R0lial,TEN'N. 



TERMS: 
The Classic Union will be publishea on the 

%HntXb;'D.'r'TATLOR, at the office of 
UieTu^t/ord Telesrcih, South- west Corner of 
the Square. 





DEVOTED TO RELIGION", LITERATTJEE, AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. 



VOL. I. 



MITRFREESBOROUGS, DECB:!iIBER 15, 1851. 



NO. 7. 



[Foi the Classic Union.] 
WOMAN'S RIGHTS 

This subject seems to have excited much 
discussion of late in some sections of our 
country, and eloquent orators, both male 
and female, have come forward todefine 
and defeiid the rights of woman. We too 
would give an exposition of woman's 
rights, and though we may fail to enumer- 
ate all the rights for which other champi- 
ons contend, yet we will venture the as- 
sertion that those women who have been 
fortunate enough to secure those which 
we shall mention, will not be likely to 
trouble themselves about any olber.s 

Woman has a right, in the first place, 
to that amount of mental cuUivation 
which will render her an intellectual com- 
panion for man. She has a right to be an 
hitclligenl observer of the works of her 
Creator, and to read his word with the 
ability to understand it. She has aright 
to that sweetness of disposition, that deli- 
cacy of taste, and that refinement of man- 
ners, which will render her the center of 
attraction in the domestic circle. And 
when she has attained to a suitable age, 
and acquired the amount of knowledge 
necessary to enable her to discharge suc- 
cessfully ihe duties of her appropriate 
sphere, she has a right to a good husband, 
one who is capable of appreciating her 
merits, and who will be to her a kindred 
spirit. She has a right to trust, and to 
look to him for support and protection, 
and to be enshrined within his heart, and 
cherished as his dearest Earthly treasure. 

She has a right to expect the continu- 
ance of those polite attentions bv which 
he strove to lender himself agreeable to 
her.before man-iagc, and to receive from 
him daily, those little courtesies v.hich are 
essential to happiness in civilized life. — 
She has a right to know that he prefers 
her society to that of any other human be- 
ing, by his never leaving her, longer than 
the proper discharge of his duties require, 



but always choosing to be with her, when- 
ever a choice is left him. She has a right 
to sharl in all his joys and sorrows, a; 
consequently she has a right to expe' 
that his, recreations and enjoyments will 
be selected with a view to her participating 
in them. She has a right to his sympathy 
and tenderness in all the cares and suffer- 
ings peculiar to her lot. 

She has a right to be his ministering 
angel in the hour of sickness, to smoothe 
his pillow, to bathe his throbbing teniples, 
and soothe his restless spirit by words of 
hope and love, and when her hour of suf- 
fering comes, she has a right to e.^pect 
from him the like attention. She has the 
ri"ht to watch by the couch of helpless 
infancy. She has a right to the anguish 
that thrills the heart of a fond mother, 
when the plaintive moan of her sutlering 
babe falls upon her car, acJ aJav> to tlxs, 
joy that swells her bosom, when the glow 
of rsturning health overspreads the pallid 
features, and the -wail of woe' is exchanged 
for the merry peal of cliildish mirth. — 
She has a right to sleepless nights and 
anxious days, and all those, alternations 
of hope and fear, which the early years 
of childhood never fail to excite in the 
maternal breast. 

She h?is a right to watch over and di- 
rect the. unfolding ii^tellfcct. When the 
creeping tendrils of the infant mind put 
forth, in search of light and support, it is 
lier privilege, to tvvine them around the 
pillars of truth and virtue. She has a 
right to gratify the curiosity of the inquis- 
itive little" stranger in_ this world of won- 
ders, by exphiiuing to him the mysteries 
that every where meet his gaze, and an- 
swei-ing_the multitude of questions his ac- 
tive, mind suggests. She has a right to 
teach the young immortal his accountabil- 
ity to the Gol vvlio made him, and to turn 
his li-^jping accents iato the form of prayer 
and praise. ShchaS a right to exert an 
inQuence that shall determine the'charac- 
ler and dcstiiiv of those who are soon to 



constitue the world of mankind. In short 
she has the right to preside over the era- 
ire of home, and find her purest joy 
m promoting the intellectual and moral 
perfection of her subjects, and watching 
over all the interests of her little realm, 
shielded alike from- tbe praises and the 
censures of the world. 

Now suppose you prove to a woman 
who is in the actual possession and en- 
joyment of all these rights, that she has 
also the right to preach from the pulpit, 
to plead, at the bar, to enter upon the prac- 
tice of medicine, to vote at the pulls, or to 
become a candidate for oflSce; think you 
that she. will value such rights as th"se, 
or care to exercise them ? But let those 
unfortunate woman, who have failed 
to secure those sacred rights which every 
female heart instinctively craves, let them, 
wesjw',. ap in. search of others. Li^ttliera 
hold tlieh- conventions, and contend for 
such privileges as public sentiment has 
hithei to denied them. Who can blame 
them ? Mrs. E. M. E. 



A DiscovEar in Surgerv. — A Prussian 
named Aran, is said to have recently made 
a discovery in surgery that is exciting con- 
siderable interest in the scientific circles of 
Berlin. It is the application of Chlorine to 
relieve pain. Unlike Chloroform, it can be 
used without the least danger to the patient, 
and is very effectual in its operation. From 
the account, a small quantitj' of the fluid, 
(flora ten to twenty drops,) is dropped on 
the part affected, or on a lint bandage 
slightl}' moistened with water, and then ap- 
plied; and all bound up in oil silk, and a 
linen band. After from two to ten minutes 
the part becomes insensible, and thepauiis 
no longer felt, whether it be from rheuma- 
tism, nervous, or other disorders. A fter a 
time it leturns again, but ususlly weaker, 
and with several applications it is often en- 
U.rely relieved. The di covcrer has pre- 
sented a memorial on the subject to the 
A'.-ademy at Paris. 



98 



CLASSIC UNION. 



ANNUAL ELECTION OF PASTORS. 

The spirit of the Bible authorizes no 
repetition of a pastoral election by the 
church, without an absolute necessity. — 
So long as the minister in charge, is com- 
petent to his task, as a preacher, and an 
overseer, the church has no scriptural 
right to remove him, and if she has no 
right to replace him by another, there is 
no necessity or virtue in any pastoral elec- 
tion. But if the minister in charge, is not 
supported by the church, if his reputation 
is not legally defended, and if he has not 
the affections of his congregation, and the 
church will not obey him according to 
truth, in a sound and correct mode of dis- 
cipline, then the pastor should forthwith, 
resign his charge. The pastoral relation 
is sometimes retained by ministers, after 
they have demonstrated, long and painful- 
ly, that the church would not be governed 
by the word of God. In such cases, they 
should by all means, tender their resigna- 
tion, and thus show to the church and 
■world, their disapprobation of church cor- 
ruption. If a church knowing, doing, and 
suffering, according to the will of God, is 
" fair as the moon, clear as the sVm, and 
terrible as an army with banners," what 
sort of society is that which is composed 
of a little beauty, and much deformity ? 
of particles of light, and clouds that are 
murky and portentous of moral evil ? of 
trained soldiers of Christ, and a multitude 
of those who cannot say "Shibboleth ?" 

Should tlie pastor of a church be inad- 
equate to the fulfillment of clerical obli- 
gations, or should he prefer laboring else- 
where, even while he and his church have 
mutually discharged their duty to God 
and men, the church may hold an t^lec- 
tion. 

That election, however, should be pre- 
ceded by prayer, fasting and humiliation. 
Some churches act as though ministtr.s 
of Christ must serve them whether their 
services be reasonable or unreasonable, 
scriptural orunscriptunil. With them, it 
is merely. Who shall be our minister ? — 
Who will be onr pastor on cheap terms ? 
The question is not, have we done our 
duty towards our recent pastor? lias he 
left us without our fault? Arc we now 
prayerful that Gol may give us a man 
after his own heart, to feed us with knowl- 
(id^^e and understanding? On the day of 
Pentecost, when the church must have a 
preacher in place of the traitor Judas, the 
Lrethi-en prayed thus " thou Lord which 
kuowest the hearts of all men, sho\v 
whether of these two thou hast ciioieu, 
\i\iji: he may take psrt of thi: mi::iotry rnJ 



apostleship, from which Judas by trans- 
gression fell, that he might go to his own 
place." 

In the Antioch church there were many 
ministers, from among whom, two must 
be sent on their mission of love. This 
being the case, " tliey ministered to the 
Lord and fasted, and the Holy Ghost said, 
separate me Barnabas and Saul for the 
work whereunto I have called them. And 
when they had fasted and prayed, and 
laid their hands on them, they sent them 
away. The Almighty informed the de- 
vout and devoted Cornelius of Cesarea, 
that'Simon Peter, who lodged with one 
Simon a tanner, by the sea side iij Joppa, 
was the apostle designated to preach at 
Cesarea. Evidently, the visit arid preach- 
ing of Peter, were the result of that good 
man's humiliation and prayers. A devout 
man, and one that feared God, with all 
his house, which gave much alms to the 
people, and prayed to God always. The 
blessed Savior previous to sending forth 
his disciples to preach the Gospel, spent 
the whole night in prayer. And contin- 
ued all night in prayer unto God. 

Is any among you afflicted let him pray. 
When a church has no pastor, it becomes 
her to be afflicted. Be afflicted, and 
mourn, and weep, let your laughter be 
turned to mourning, and your joy to heav- 
iness. 

Among the evils traceable to annual 
elec'ions, are the following: 

1st. They induce partyism. Now this 
I say: that eveiy one of you saith, lam 
of Pauli and I of Apollos; and of Ce- 
phas; and I of Christ. Partiality and 
prejudice commence their work of flat- 
tery, adulation and electioneering, on the 
one hand, and on the other. Censorious- 
nes.s of different nominees, has its thou- 
sand stings. The former incumbent is the 
target of a hundred arrows; ther-e is none 
like the novel, new-mown aspirant; his 
voice is angelic, liis exterior gentlemanly, 
his doctrine pure, his actions arc in accor- 
dance with the strictest rules of Rhetorical 
declamation, Or, peradventure he is 
plain in dress and manner, slow of speech 
and now and then a little heterodox, yet 
he is the man; he suits the people because 



harder to be won than a strong city. Tl:e 
judicious minister, moral chemist though 
he may be, cannot mingle oil and water, 
cannot reconcile the offended party to his 
own election. His friends have been ar- 
rogant and impetuous; now they have 
power, and the intelligent, disinterested, 
who advocated their former pastor's sup- 
port, and no election under contradictory 
and indevout circumstances, being disgus- 
ted, propose withdrawal from the church. 

8. The year has expired. The pastor 
in charge, expects his salary. The laborer 
is worty of his hire. Poor man 1 He 
has been afraid to preach from that text. 
But, something must be raised for his ser- 
vices. Some of his church are gone to 
Texas, others so Alabama, and others 
have been excommunicated, or they are 
dead. Contributions are like those sparks 
of gre, which, in cold weather, fall from 
the upper regions. "Two mites" become 
the illiberality of the rich, and nothing is 
the pittance of the poor. Poor deluded 
minister ! He ought to have demanded 
his subsistsnce at the beginning. His 
texts are forgotten; his sermons are among 
the things that were. * He returns to his 
log cabin. His bread is scarce, his fami- 
ly are almost husbandless and fatherless, 
his debts are unpaid; his heart is grieved, 
he would be an' infidel, were it not for 
persevering grace. 

Let pastors be honest, sagacious, manly, 
honorable, dignified, and independent. — 
Our ministers are sometimes effeminate, 
tremulous, and loth to reprove the chur- 
ches. Read the reproofs of Paul to the 
Roman, Corinthian, and Galation chur- 
ches, and see if some of our Baptist min- 
isters in this day are not in the rear of the 
battle, conferring with flesh and blood. — 
If church pastors did their duty without 
fear, if there were less of truckling to 
avarice and admiration among them, the 
churches would arise and shine, and the 
shylocks of false religion would retreat 
before them like clouds of the bottomless 
pit. 

The churches hold the keys of govern- 
ment. I et thera aggrandize themselves by 
the excision of evil men and seducers, who 
wax worse and worse. Let them demand 



he is like themselves. Torment has be- 1 in the name of Christ, strict obedience to 
taken the people of God. The good old | the laws of his militant kingdom. Reclaim 
pastor, who bore the buidcn and heat of' the backslidden, comfort the afflicted, sup- 
the day, is gone unpaid for l;is services; ! ply the table of the poor, and see well to 
and lol one stands up in his place, to min- it, that their worthy pastor be well sup- 
ister in holy tilings, elected in slrifo and '■ plied with the comforts of life, and the 
animosity. [ means of educating his children. Then 

2d. '1 he new pastor begins the work of ! shall the minister of Jesus rejoice in his 
reconciliation, A brother offended is work. and labor of love. They that be 



CLASSIC UNION. 



H 



righteous shall shine as the brightness of 
the firmament, and they that turn many 
to righteousness, as the stars forever and 
ever. Amen and amen. — Chris. Index, 

iX^LFILLING AGREEMENTS. 
'This remark has been made by observ 
lag men, that ■while regard to strict ve 
S-acity has never been excessive in the 
"eomniutiity, ot even among Christians, 
diefe has been, for a number of years past, 
a gV-oWing looseness in the fulfillment of 
promises. L<;ss than formerly is the word 
of individuals considered binding, causin 
them, without evasion or subterfuge, to 
do, so far as'possible, exactly as they have 
agreed. Increased commercial activity 
and great pecuniary revulsions, doubtless 
liaveworked as temptations tojead men 
astray from an abiding reference to truth 
in all the relations and transactions of life 
But no cause in this matter amounts to e 
justification of wrong — of a wrong so 
enormous as that of disregarding the 
claims of veracity. For the moment a 
man feels at liberty to neglect a business 
agreement_by forgetfulness or sheer in- 
difference to it, he may, on the same 
ground, fail of truth in other things, and 
thus the most endearing relations in life, 
the most exalted reputation in others, and 
the dearest interests iu society, are all put 
in jeopard3^ The safeguards of society 
are, in fact, trken away, if it be pervaded 
by the leaven of faithlessness iu its mem- 
bers. 

We have often heard it remarked that 
membership in the Cliristian Church is no 
pledge of commercial honesty or conscien- 
tious regard to truth. How far this charge 
holds true, it may not be possible to say. 
It is certain that not a few feel that at this 
very point, tlie cause of religion is now 
laboring and suifering. While prayer, 
and zeal, and faith, and charity, and ef- 
fort, have been preached and insisted on, 
they have come to be viewed by many as 
tlie sum of what a Christian profession re- 
quires. AVe all know that the age calls 
for the active and the forth-putting. You 
must not pause too long to think of obli- 
gations which cov<;r the whole tract of 
life in all the minutise of its varied and ev- 
ery day TelatLons. The consequence of 
this, too often, is failure in meeting the 
claims of moral honesty. 

Let the pulpit and the Church of Christ 
direct attention to this subject. The 
claims of truth in every thing, and the 
fearful fruits of setting it aside, never 
needed to be more strongly urged. Such 
preaching as that of the following para- 



graph in Dr. Wayland's Chapter on Ye- 
racity, will suit more than one meridian: | 
■ "Let it be always borne in mind, that 



THE BOY'S DREAM. 
Once as a child sat, on a summur'g 
evening, under a shady tree, he fell 
asleep, and he dreamed that three bright 
he who knowingly utters what is false, tells j and beautiful angels stood before him.— 
a lie; and a lie, whether white or of any And while he wondered at the sight, one 



other color, is a violation of the command 
of that God by whom we must be judged. 
And let us remember that there is no vice 
which more casilj'' than this stupifies a 
man's conscience: He who tells lies fre- 
quently, will soon become an habitual liar; 
and an habitual liar will soon lose the 



of them spoke to the other and said: 

"I have brought this garment of pure 
white, and this white lilly that wlil never 
fade, to bestow upon him that i^ spctless 
and good." And the boy saw that on 
the angel's forehead was written its name. 
It was "Innocence.'' Then the other an- 
gel spoke in reply: ''Look in this glass 
which I hold in my hand, and you will 



power of readily distinguishing between see the picture of tliis sleeping child's life 
the conceptions of his imagination, and 'o-day. See how he has been disobedi- 
ent, and thoughtless, and passionate; and 
has forgotten God and his prayers. I too 
would have given him this basket of 



the recollections of his memory. I have 
known a few persons who seemed to have 
arrived at this most deplorable moral con- 
dition. Let every one, therefore, beware 
of the most distant approaches to this de- 
testable vice. A volume might easily be 
written on th.e misery and loss of charac- 
ter which have grown out of a single lie; 
and another volume of illustrations of the 



precious jewels, but I cannot bestow tl.em 
on such a one." Then the boy read the 
name in her forehead. It was "Memory." 
Then spake the third angel: '■! too would 
have given him this golden crown if he 
had been true and good." And her name 
the chili read — it was "Hope." Then 
the sleeper trembled, when he remem- 



means of no other prominent attribute 
than that of bold unshrinking veracity 



[For the Cl-assic Union.] 
A DREAM. 

" / dreamed that I dwelt in marble halls." 

I dreamed that I dwelt in marble halls" 
And a beauty strange and bright 
A beauty as of spirit gleameil 
Arouud me daj-and night. 

The flowers were light, tlie waters song 

. Cloudless and blue the skies 
And a mystic charm was in all the air 
That breathed in melodies. 

And forms of matchless grace were there 
And their flowing robes were white 

Their voices were like the echoes sweet 
And their brows were bathed iulight. 

One wreathed herself with the breathing flower 

One bent o'er the raagic lyre 
And some the spacious marble paced 

\\\\h. eye of pensive fire. 

But 0, 'twas a frigid beauty all 

Even at the radiant noon! 
And their brows were cold and pas.sionless 

Like the -crescent of the moon. 

And the breath as of an ivv sea 

Still kissed the living flo'wers 
And swept along the proud arcades 

And around the marble towers ! 

It pierced me to the very soul 

My heart; was cliilled to stone. 
But each brow was set in noble pride 

Its suffering to disown I 



, ,. , 1 • 1 i_ i bercd how he had spent a wickea and 

moral power which men have gamed by Li i 4, j * j .1 11,^ 

^ . . ' thoughtless day. And the angels bent 

their bright eyes upon him, and Hope 
said, "We will meet here again iu a year 
from this night.'' Then they suddenly 
vanished, and the sleeping boy awoke. 

Yery sadly he thought of his dream. — 
But he resolved to live from that time a 
better life. And every night he went and 
sat on the same green bank, and called 
up all he had done during the dav, and 
repented when lie remembered he had 
done wrong. Winter came, and he could 
no longer go to the shady bank. But aa 
soon as the ground was bare, arid the 
violet blossomed, he would go again at 
evening and sit under the tree. And so 
the year came round, and he again fell 
asleep there on a summer's night. And 
in dream the three angels came again and 
smiled on him."" 

"Now," said MemorNf, "I can give him 
the box of jewels — the precious gems 
of -sirtue, and the recollection of good 
deeds, of kind and pure words and hap- 
py thoughts, better than all the wealih in 
the world." "And I," said Innocence, 
"will give him now the lily that never 
fades-^-the spirit of cheerful gladness, and 
the white robe of purity, su>h as the an- 
gels wear." "And 1," said Hope, "have - 
brought for him now the golden crown." 

■■rhen the sleeping child thought he be- 
held himself lying there, with a golden 
crown on his head and the lily in his hand, 
and he' wxis clad in the while robe 01 La- 
hocence, and the jewels ol MerlTory, and 
in the sky above him he heard the sound 
of music; and, looking up, he saw many 
bright ones with harps in their hands — 
The stars rose in thf, sky, and the mo.jn 
shed its hght on the childs face, and he 
slept on. And they found him in the 
niorning, a sweet smile on his lips, as 
though he were in a pleasant dream. But 
his eyes never opened in this world ag-iiu. 
His spirit was not thi,re. iluit h;ii ouv- 
up wiwii tlie ancfi-ls. 



iscd 1 



At length T woke— 0. Cmd be pr 

But still I f<;el the chain, 
Away I hastened to the Cross 

To wai-ni my heart aguiu ! 

O,thou who hast forfaken life 
For the marble halls of Fame 

"Where the genial bliss of Lona unkn.) 
Say canst thou jioive my Dream '; 



100 



CLASSIC UNION. 



CORRESPONDENCE. 

TJ.VION IjNIVliKSITY, Nov. 99, 1851. 
Mr. Scott Colmekt: — Dear Sir: As a commit- 
tee of "Union Chapter" the undersigned Avould 
in behalf of said ChajJter, respectfully tender 
to you their sincere thanks for the rich literary 
repast with which you favored them on the 15th 
inst. ; and earnestly solicit a copy of the same 
for publication. 

Yours Fratenially, 

G. EAGLETON, 
L. P. COOPER, 

C. J. HARRIS, 

D. H. SELPfi, 

Committee. 

Stewaetboro' Dec. 8th 1851. 
Gentlemes: — I am honored with yours request- 
ing a copy of my address, delivered on the loth 
of Nov. Though I did not intend the paper for 
publication, yet I donot feel at liberty to refuse a 
request so kindly aud flatteringly conveyed. 
I am very truly your.s, itc, 

J. .SCaTT COLJ'IERY. 
To- Messrs. Eagleton, Selph, Cooper and Harris, 
Consmittee. 

ADDRESS. 

YotTNG Gentlemen: — If -'tlie circum- 
staBces under whlcli we act, have a ten- 
dency to control our actions and emotions 
in all stations of life, surely, then, in at- 
tempting to address you at tLis time, my 
feelings must be " tinged with a thousand 
diflFerent hues." I confess it an honor, to 
be invited to address the members of this 
association; and tlyere are several consid- 
erations, which have a tendency to render 
the scene presented this evening peculiarly 
interesting. You are assembled at this 
time as the representatives of our order, 
nnd at an Institution the infancy of which, 
appears like manhood in its prime. 

A Pierian fountain has broken forth in 
oiir midst, and you have all had the privi- 
lege of tasting its pure and. exhilarating 
waters. The rich viands that are spread 
out on the table of knowledge have been 
placed before you, and you have been in- 
vited to partake of the invigorating nour- 
ishment. Tlie path that conducts you up 
the hill of science has been pointed out, 
and a friendly hand offered to direct you in 
the way. The doors, of the temple of 
fame, that stands on its summit, have been 
thrown open, and its inmates are holding- 
out prizes, to those who are ascending the 
eminence, that riches are too poor to buy. 

And to encourage you, and render the 
toils of your journey sweet, your country 
throws her protecting arms around you; 
the golden Eagle of independence over- 
shadows you with his wings; the star of 
liberty shines upon your path; you can 
rest securely under the wide spread 
branches of the tree of peace, and regale 



yourselves with the odors that rise from 
the altar of freedom. 

Tlien, genlleraen, let your destined port 
be the acme of honest fame. But in at- 
tempting to reach this point, be sure you 
start aright. Trus't not appearances. — 
A thousand beacons Tiiay tend to draw you 
from your path, but they are-the ignesfa- 
tuui of vice, that shine to dazzle and glit- 
ter to allure. Act not with presumptuous 
confidence. One inad^'trtent step may 
baffle all your sanguine hopes, and lay 
your brightest prospects in the dust. Be 
certain that the foundation on which you 
are building is firm; that the principles 
from which you are acting are correct; and 
your labors maybe a blessing to the world 
— your endeavors %viU be blessed, and ul- 
timately crowned with entire success. In 
order to assist you in determining what 
course of conduct, will best enable you to 
fulfill the design of your creation, you will 
permit me to assume the position, that, 
JEnligldened virtue its the basis of true great- 
ness. The world is a field and in it we 
should all be laborers: and our actions will 
either be beneficial or deleterious to those 
with whom we have intercourse in a direct 
proportion as the motives by which we are 
actuated are correct or erroneous. That 
we were created for noble purposes, the 
approval that Tirtuous actions receive 
from all intelligent persons, and the lashes 
inflicted upon vicious con-duct by "the God 
within the mind"' clearly demonstrate. — 
llenccTto liv-e-for no purpose is useless, aud 
to live lor an evil purpose is far worse. — 
How, then, can we obtain those means, 
the exercise of which will enable us to 
accomplish the great ends of our existence. 

I answer, negatively, they . are not 
found in rank -and station. These while 
they elevate you in the estimation of the 
vulgar crowd, may deaden every germ of 
latent worth. Neither arc they secu.ied to 
you by the favorable circumstances with 
which you • arc surrounded. For these, 
unless properly attended to, may one day 
be a weighty curse, to all, v.'ho come with- 
in the sphere of their operations. Nor 
are they to be found in the inducements 
that are held out to you to engage in ac- 
tive, noble pursuits; i( your eftbrts be not 
seasoned with proper incentives, they will 
eventually produce nothing but utter dis- 
appointment and chagrin. Nor do they 
dwell with supine remissness. Greatness 
never rests on the lap of indolence, nor 
real worth in the bowers of listless ease. 
But they are stored in the granaries of 
ennobled zeal — determined, persevering 
exertions bring them within jour reach — 



intelligence points out the manner in 
which they should be employed — and the 
effect, 

•' Which nothing earthly gives or can destroy:— 
The Soul's calm sunshine, and the heartfelt joy, 
Is virtue's prize." 

Every nation, and tribe, and sect, that 
has existed during the different periods 
of the world's history, made a distinction 
between virtue and vice. And though 
their distinctions -were often founded on 
erroneous principles, they acted according 
to the light they had, and were far more 
zealous in defending and promoting their 
views, than we are, who pretend to be 
guided by a surer beacon, than the faint 
glimmerings of the light of nature. So 
deeply impressed was the pretending Dido 
with the charms that virtue should have 
upon her actions, that she exclaimed — 
" Sed mihi vel tellus optem prius ima dhiscst, 
Vel pater omnipotensadijat me fulmine ad um- 
bras, 
Pallontes umbras Erebi noctemque profundam. 
Ante, pudor, quamteviolo, auttua juraresolvo.'' 

More than twenty one hundred years 
ago, the celebrated Zeno declared that, 
things are only good as they are bccomi&g' 
and virtuous; and virtue is itself happi- 
ness." And though there are many ab- 
surdities connected with the Stoic philoso- 
phy, though their fundamental doctrine in 
Ethics is, that fulfilling the dictates of na- 
ture, is performing all the duties we owe to> 
God. Yet, so firmly were they persua- 
ded, that their views were correct and so 
willing were they to submit to the dictates 
of the celestial fire which they supposed 
animated them; that upon the slightest 
intimation, that existence here was not in 
accordance with the Fates, the very found- 
er of the sect striking the earth exclaims 
"Egxopai ni Mb, aueis*" — and immedi- 
ately strangled himself. 

Plato, the wisest of the ancient philoso- 
phers, so strenuously urged his disciples- 
to practice virtue, that even christjans- 
have declared, " that whoever studies 
Plato, stands on holy ground" and that 
his works abound with dim religious form, 
all leading up to God." And he, who 
was the mind of the Platonic School, made 
a virtuous restraint, from the gross irreg- 
ularities which prevailed during the age, 
and in the country in which he lived — 
the source of all domestic happiness and 
the summum bonum of active life. The- 
abstemious Cynics, with a zeal to promote 
the cause of virtue far surpassing their 
knowledge, neglected many things that 
were laudable, and thus perhaps, in their 
eagerness to advance a noble cause, em- 
ployed ignoble means. 

*I am coming, why callestlhou me. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



lai 



The instructions of the immortal Socra- 
tes, embrace a system of moral virtues, 
many of which would, even at this day, 
ennoble and dignify the rules of ethical 
propriety, by which enlightened and re- 
fined society is governed. Hence, we 
may conclude, that the reason why the 
principles embraced in the instructions of 
the Socratic School — the tenets promulga- 
ted in the shades of the Academia — the 
dogmas proclaimed during the Perepatetic 
lectures have withstood the ravages of so 
many ages, and descended (almost unim- 
paired) to us, is, because their systems 
contained so many of the heathen virtues 
of the days in which they lived, and the 
brief period of an obedience to their max- 
ims, must be attributed to the fact, that 
ihose virtues were not based upon enlight- 
ened truth. 

Although Sparta once considered it a 
virtue to steal, yet Lycurgus, by banishing 
those things thai promoted confusion and 
vice, raised the Spartans to be the arbiters 
of Greece. 

And though, during many ages, Rome 
has been the fountain head of many cor- 
ruptions, yet upon the eve of her decline 
Cornelia could point to her virtuous sons 
and say, " These are my jewels." Thus, 
gentlemen, you may see that all nations 
whose history has reached us, made a 
marked distinction between virtuous ac- 
tions and vicious conduct. Though many 
of their rites and ceremonies, which were 
interwoven with their professions were of- 
ten defended by a bigoted and blinded zeal 
though noble actions were almost shroud- 
ed by the vail of obscurity, and unwor- 
thiness sometimes deafened by public ap- 
plause; though real worth was often left 
to live and die unhonored and unsung, 
while mushroom arrogance was extoled to 
the skies; yet all their actions, which we 
consider as worthy of imitation were based 
upon the virtues, which were enlightened 
by the knowledge of those times. 

And who of you does not admire the 
austereness of Cafo, whose rigid virtues 
prompted him to thrust a dagger into his 
own bosom; after he had saved the lives 
of thousands of his fellow citizens; rather 
than the recklessness of Tiberias, who 
caused vast numbers to be tortured, mere- 
ly to gratify a spirit of revenge ? 

And do we not all observe a charm in 
the actions of Aristides, wTiich we seek for 
in vain through the whole course of an 
Antiochus Epiphftnes' life? We are 
forced, by the silent monitor, that judges 
concerning the moral qualities of actions, 
to condemn every scheme that is calcula- 



ted to destroy happiness, and people the 
abodes of wretchedness, though it is en- 
forced by the edict of a King; while we 
must give at least a tacit approval to those 
things that are intended to succor the 
needy, relieve the indigent, and diffuse joy 
and gladness through the realms of des- 
pair, though they are performed by the 
humblest peasant. Because, 
" 'So radiant pearl, Trhicli crested fortune wears. 
No gem, that twinkling, hangs from breauty's 

ears. 
Nor the bright stars, which night's blue arch 

adorns. 
Nor rising suns, that gild the vernal morn, 
Sbine with such lustre, as the tear that' breaks, 
For others' woe, down Virtues manly cheeks." 

And so elevating are the feelings, at 
tendantupon a consciousness of having 
governed all our actions, passions and de- 
sires by a virtuous restraint, that, with a 
mind free from the goadings of a neglect 
of duty, and knowing that he had often 
relieved and benefitted his fellow-citizens, 
" Far more true joy Maroellus exiled feels, 
Than Caesar with a Senate at his heels." 

Actuated by the same heaven-born 
principles, Socrates, after he had been the 
light of Athens, and all Greece had reaped 
invaluable benefits from his wisdom, his 
precepts, and his examples, drank the fa- 
tal draught with a firm composure; and 
thus became a martyr for the virtues he 
had taught. 

And can we ever sufiiciently admire 
that magnanimous spirit, which must 
have pervaded the breast of Phocion, 
who, being condemned to death, by his 
own cotmtryraen because he inveighed 
against the vices in which they indulged, 
entreated hli, soTx, S.S, his last request "to 
forget how ill the Athenians had treated 
his father." So strong were the ties of 
virtuous friendship, by which the hearts 
of Damon and Pythias were united, that 
neither the horrors of incarceration within 
the walls of a murky cell, nor the possi- 
bility of having to suffer the pains of an 
excruciating torture, could sever the bands 
that bound their aflections together. The 
reign of Cyrus abounds with so many in- 
stances of disinterested care for the wel- 
fare of his subjects; of unbounded benev- 
olence in alleviating the wants of the dis- 
tressed; of parental tenderness in provid- 
ing for tlieir comfort and convenience; 
and of fatherly kindness, in securing them 
in peace and safety, that the period of his 
administration has always been referred 
to as the brightest epoch in the history of 
ages that are gone. And his worthy 
deeds have been penegyrized by historians 
of ancient and modern times. But on the 
other hand, the odiousness of the crimes 
that are emblazoned on every page of a 



Herod's life — his injustice, his unquench- 
able thirst for revenge, his inhumanity — 
his scenes of groveling baseness — his tor- 
turing cruelties — all growing out of a 
vicious recklessness, render him an object 
of opprobriousness, and sinks him beneath 
the dignity of man. Unborn generations 
shall extol in accents of grateful reverence 
the virtues of generosity, liberality, gen- 
tleness, magnanimity and justice that 
were exhibited in the actions of a Scipio; 
— but the historian must blush, while he 
records ffie unexampled debaucheries, the 
incredulous barbarity — the malignant con- 
duct of a Belshazzar, a Felix and a Maxi- 
minus. 

Thus^entlemen, let a rigid virtue, 
though of heathen origin, be an ingredi- 
ent in the constituent principles of any 
sect, and its name will till the billows of 
time have ceased to roll — Let it be the um- 
pire in the decisions of a monarch, and his 
subjects will bless the day the regal scep- 
ter was placed within his hands. Let it 
enter the councils of the great, and their 
determinations will be the law of the civ- 
ilized wodd, and Senates in admiration 
will rise to do them honor. Let it be the 
goal to which the aims of a Peasant tend 
— the focus in which the desires of a Ple- 
bian concentrate; and posterity shall de- 
light to do honor to their names — and 
kings and tyrants shall stand in their 
presence with awe. From this we may 
learn, that virtue though different in kind 
is an undying principle, and must continue 
so long as the source from which it ema- 
nates is unchangeable and eternal. And 
just in proportion as it draws_its support 
from that fountain of infinite and un- 
migled perfections, will its continuance be. 
And, though much-of the greatness based 
upon the wisdom and virtues of these 
countries in which Christianity was un- 
known, is posthumous; though their fun- 
damental doctrines are generally discard- 
ed, and their systems of philosophy point- 
ed to, to prove tne inefficiency of unassis- 
ted reason; yet, virtue still lives the same 
and will exist 

" Unhurt, amidst the war of elements, 
The wrecks of matter and the crush of worlds." 
But all things, that were worthy or no- 
ble among the ancients who had not the 
li"ht of the Gospel shining among them, 
were but a type — a shadow or a prelude 
of a brighter and a better day in which 
we are privileged to live. 

By the radiant splendor that is reflected 
from the Pi,evelation of divine truth, you 
may be enabled to see the origin of un- 
blemished excellence — the foundation of 
unvarnished worth — the source of invigo- 



102 



CLASSIC UNION. 



r 'ing zeal in the cause of that which is 
;^hi and just and good. And seeing you 
must confess that enlightened virtue is tlie 
basis of all true greatness, that is truhj 
great. 

And as an able writer Si^ys, "bad as 
the world is respect is always paid to rir- 
tue." It is connected with eminence in 
every liberal art; with reputation in eveiy 
branch of fair and honorable or useful 
business; with distinction in ever}' public 
station. The vigor which it gi^es the 
mind — the weight wliich it adds to char- 
acter: the generous sentiments which it 
b eathes: the undaunted spirit which it 
inspires; the ardor of diligence %^iich it 
quickens; the freedom which it procures 
irom pernicious and dishonorable avoca- ' 
tions, are the foundation of all that is 
highly honorable, or greatly successful 
among men. Or as the poet justly re- 
marks — ■ 

" Virtue, the strength au J beauty of the soul, 
]s the best gifu of Heaven: a happiness 
That even above the smiles and frowns of fate, 
Exalt-i great natures favorites; a wreath 
Tliat ne'er encumbers; nor to baocr hands 
Can be trausfered." 

If, then in the outset of the enterprise in 
which you have engaged, your aim is, to 
answer the great and' responsible purposes 
of your destination; virtue must be the 
propelling principle to every thing in 
which you engage; it must be the support- 
ing beam of every fabric that you rear; 
it must be the great axis of every move- 
ment you make in the moral machinery of 
tie world; it must be the radiating point, 
from which emanate all those exertions 
whose tendency shall be to bless mankind; 
it must be the center of that system of 
operations which is characterized by ben- 
eficial results, and of which the world 
reaps innumerable blessings; and it must 
by all means be the palladium to guard 
you against those snares and allurements 
— those ever cheating vanities, and entic- 
ing enchantments with which the path of 
youth is beset, and under whose pressure 
the greatest constancy has ofttn sunk — 
But 

" Protected by that hand, whose law 

The tlireai'ning .storms obey, 
Intripid virtue smiles secure 

As in the blaze of day." 

True greatness consists, in a coincidence 
of the actions of finite intelligences, with 
the example and obedience to the precepts 
of the Infinite cause of all things; so far 
as, limited faculties are capable of com- 
prehending unlimited perfections. And 
th.-it virtue must be its basis, is evident 
from the fact; that it is the only principle 
which prompts to the performance of deeds 
tkiit iuv>e a tendency to ameliarat« U:a 



condition of mankind, and become a bless- 
ing to the world. And that this viituei 
must be enlightened by divine truth, is 
equally manifest, when we consider that it 
is the only medium through which we 
can discover any thing definite concerning 
the will or character of the Eternal source 
of wisdom and greatness. 

Again; the influence that the labors, of 
those exert, who make "faith the anchor 
to their soul," is so different from that at- 
tendant upon the exertions of all who lean 
upon an arm of flesh, thait the honest car- 
nal observer must confess that only vir- 
tue's paths conduct to eminence. 

Let but the simple appearance of un- 
known characters be impressed upon the 
wall, and the convictions of the reveling 
Belshazzar are awakened, his pleasures 
are immediately palled, his festive joys 
are turned to pallid fear, his carousingis 
changed to consternation, dismay is depic- 
ted upon his brow, hopeless despair is ex- 
hibited by all his actions — the girdle of 
his loins is loosed, and his knees smite each 
other. 

But the same circurnstances raised the 
devoted Daniel from an humble station to 
be the chief arbiter in the affairs of the 
nation. Though the bigoted Sennachereb 
could boast that his fathers had conquer- 
ed the kings of Hamath and Arphad, 
Sepharvaim, Henah and Ivah, yet in cjn- 
sequence of his iniquities one huudred and 
eighiy-fioe thousand oiXvi^ deluded followers 
are -destroyed in one night by a messen- 
ger of vengeance, and he becomes a vic- 
tim of the most aggravated parricide. — 
While Ilezekiah, trusting to the righteous- 
ness of his cause, is delivered, with his 
armor unstained by the blood of an ene- 
my. Let a virtuous Paul reason concern- 
ing the grounds on which he places his 
hopes and an emperor trembles, as he sits 
in his judgement seat. 

Where then, I ask can we find those, 
v/hose labors have been a blessincr to the ! 
world — whose memories are now cherish- j 
ed, because their efforts wer§ directed to j 
the promotion of philanthropic objects; 
whose example is worthy of imitation; 
whose character is based upon actions i 
that had an extensive influence in forward- 
ing the best interests of their fellow-men 

. . . ' 

and in whose lives we see the virtues of 

benevolence, love, charity, temperance, 
humility, meekness, CGm.passion, veracity, 
justice, and a host of others eminently 
displayed ? Shall I present before you, 
as a model worthy of imitation, the name 
and Conduct of a Voltaire, Mirabeau, 
Diderot, Helvetius, Condorcet, Rosseau 
Hobbos, Bufl'on, Gibbon, Humo, Pttin«, 



Allen or Owen ? A voice that has echoed 
through different parts of Europe, since 
the reign of Terror, in France, answers in 
the negative. The enlightened historian, 
TOth emphasis replies, no — and ten thou- 
sand misled souls who have sunk to the 
regions of despair, with a volume of their 
garbled inconsistencies in their right hand, 
would wail an eternal no. As well, may 
you expect to rest upon the passing breeze, 
as to find trve greatness erected upon the 
course of life pursued by those to whom 
I have refered. 

And if any of you expect to climb to 
the pinnacle of fame, and tliere inscribe 
yonr names in charactersj that shall be 
read and honored by succeeding genera- 
tions, yet intend to discard the principles 
of virtue, enlight^ne I by Revelation — 
you act far more inconsistent than he does; 
who attempts to feast upon the wind or 
who — 

" Seeks mellow grapes benealh the icy pole; 

Seeks blooming roses on the cheek of death; 

Seeks substance in a world of feeling shades." 

But we should rejoice, that, amid the 
gloom and darkness with which the moral 
world has been surrounded during every 
age, there has been a bright galaxy of il- 
lustrious personages, who will always 
shine as stars of the first magnitude, and 
whose rays, whenever they are felt, dispel 
the mental night in which the people wan- 
der. 

The philosophical world must confess its 
indebtedness to the wisdom of a Euler, 
Pascal, Boyle, Bacon, Locke and Newton, 
who bowed in reverence to the supremacy 
of revealed truth; and were able advo- 
cates of the doctrines it teaches. The 
names of Beattie, Addison, Johnson and 
Dick, will live while virtue has a friend or 
pure morality an advocate. Let the harp 
be touched by a Prior, Gray, Thompson, 
Yoimf, Milton, Cowper, or Pollok, and its 
notes will flow in harmonious accents 
down the tide of time, and its living num- 
bers will sound in unison with the blast of 
Gabriel's trump. 

The physician confesses the superior 
skill of a virtuous Brown, Hartly, Mead, 
and Rush; while Luther, Calvin, Clarke 
and Scott, have written their names in 
characters as indelible as time itself upon 
the destinies of nations. 

Nor should we forget the names of Lit- 
tleton, Mason, George Washington, Hale, 
Blackstone, Russel and Erskine, who ren- 
dered the different stations they occupied, 
truly honorable, by associating with them 
a noble zeal, in promoting the cause of vir- 
tue and of God. Then, gentlemen, if you 
Aesira t« lire «Kir«d from the car€« of 



CLASSIC UNION. 



103 



busy life, and enjoy the tranquil pleasures 
connected with private meditations, virtue 
is necessary in order to banish the des- 
pondenoj that is wont to haunt the shades 
of retirement; and keep you from becom- 
ing a burden to yourself. 'Tis this that 
makes the rustic cot a palace — 'tis this 
that renders the lonelj' rural walk a source 
of pure delight; 'tis this that, causes the 
" family hearth"' to be the second Eden in 
this lower world. Because 

" Peace, Virtue ! peace is all thy oTvn." 
Is it your wish to mingle with the busy 
crowd, and share the trials, troubles and 
turmoils of those who are engaged in the 
arena of public life ? Virtue is requisite 
to preserve you from the contaminations 
of the promiscuous rabble with which you 
will have to deal; and enable you to elude 
the baits that vice strews along the road 
which conducts to the stations of active 
usefulness. Or Howard like, do you long 
to visit the mansions of misery; to pene- 
trate the cells and prisons where wretch- 
edness and want conjointly reign; where 
despair and anguish dwell, and open up 
an avenue of hope to those drear abodes — 
let in a ray of cheering comfort upon the 
captive souls, and cause the prisoner, 
though bound in heavy, festering chains, 
to leap for joy ? virtue must characterize 
ail your efforts and give to every act a 
grace. Or do you intend to work upon 
the "mighty deep" of human depravity, 
and bring "order out of confusion," by 
enlightening the darkened understanding 
of those who set in the valley of theshad- 
©w of death; by dispelling the clouds of 
darkness that hang over a large portion of 
the benighted world; by breaking up the 
strongholds of superstition, that have been 
fortified by ignorance during, many ages; 
b}' diffusing general information among all 
classes and conditions of mankind ? Vir- 
tue must be your guiding star — its beams 
must illumine the gloomy regions of pa- 
gan hopelessness, and cause a brighter 
day to dawn upon the wastes of heathen 
idolatry. It must be the power that 
moves the lever of the universe, and raises 
the mass of corruption from the depraved 
mind; it must be the inscription upon your 
labarura, if you wish to march against 
the strong holds of- vice with a full assu- 
rance of success; it must be the essence of 
all your instructions; it must be engraved 
upon the chief corner stone of every edi^ 
fice you erect; it must be inscribed upon 
the lintels of the door; it must be indeli- 
bly stamped upon its txirrets; it must be so 
plainly written upon your whole courseof 
life, that the most illiterate shall read it 



and admire. Hence, let enlightened vir- 
tue be the basis, on which you found your 
aspirations after greatness, and the world 
shall look upon you as its benefactor; the 
distressed shall rejoice a* your presence; 
at your approach the streams of sorrow 
shall be dried up, and the dejected coun- 
tenance resume its wonted smile; you 
shall be gathered as a shock of corn fully 
ripe; the grave will be your portal to eter- 
nal day; and from the tree of life, you 
shall gather immortality. 



Dull Scholars. — It is related of one 
of the earlier French Princes, that being 
either too indolent to acquire his alphabet 
by the ordinary process, twenty-four ser- 
vants were placed in attendance upon him 
each with a large letter marked upon his 
person. The young prince not being in- 
formed of the true names of these atten- 
dants, was obliged to call them by their 
particular letters; and in this way he soon 
learned the -first rudiments of an educa- 
tion. A similar mode was used by Hero- 
des, in overcoming the dullness of his son 
Atticus. He had him associated with 
twenty-four little slaves, each designated 
by a letter of the Greek Alphabet, so that 
in his daily sports and associations he be- 
came familiar with this alphabet, and thus 
learned it without the acquisition being 
made a task. 



CRITERIA OF A BEAUTIFUL COW. 

She's long in her face, she's fine in her horn, 
She'll quickly get fat, without cake or corn; 
She's clear in her jaws, and full in her chine. 
She's heavy in flanic, and wide iu her loin. 

She's broad iu her ribs, and long in her rump, 
A straight and flat back, with never a hump; 
She's wide in her hips, and calm in her eyes; 
She's fine in her shoulders, and thin in her 
thighs. 

Shc-'s light in her neck, and small in her fail, 
She's wide in her breast, and good at the pail; 
She's fine in her bono, and silky of skin. 
She's a Grazier's without, aud a Butcher's 
within. 



All the influence which women enjoy in 
society, — their righi to the exeicise of that 
maternal care which forms the first aiiJ 
most indelible species of education; the 
wholesoine restraint which thej' possess 
over the passions of mankind; their power 
protecting us when young, and cheering 
U3 when old, — depend so entirely upon 
their personal purity, and that which it 
casts around them, thnt to insin'jate a 
doubt of its real value is wilfully to remove 
the broadest corner-stone on which civil 
saciety rests with all its boncSts and ali its 
f n for s. 



Fashion Makers. — "Whether tailor.^ 
and milliners actually invent new styles of 
dress or only record the changes made by 
certain leaders of fashion, is more than we 
in our ignorance of such matters are able 
to say. We only know that in too many 
cases, they sadly disfigure the human 
forms. Speaking of fashion makers, and 
the absurdities of fashion, Chambers' Ed- 
inburgh Journal says: 

Milliners and tailors appear to be the 
most brainless of all professions. Wo 
scarcely remember to have ever seen a 
new fashion proceed from them which ac- 
corded with true elegance, and which did 
not tend to deform rather thai\ adorn the 
human person. At present they make a 
woman into a bell-shaped object, painful 
from the sense of its incompleteness — feet 
being wanting. Always some absurdity 
reigns conspicuous in their models of 
form. Each of them will tell you; We 
cannot help it — it is the fashion. But 
whence comes the fashion, if not from 
some of their own empty heads? And 
how is itthatno one of them can help it, 
that no one of them has the sense.or spirit 
to devise, set foi-th, and promote anything 
better? The tailors are better than the 
milliners, and do not in general misdress 
mankind to such an extent as to call for a 
particular effort of resistance; but the wo- 
men are treated by their dressmakers iu a 
way which would call for and justify a re- 
bellion. A friend of ours goes so far as to 
say that the one thing above all which 
dbnvinces him of the inferiority of the fe- 
male mind generally to the piale, is the 
submission which women show to every 
fooli.sh fashion which is dictated to them, 
and that helplessness which they profess 
under its most torturing and tyranical 
rules. We would at least say that, if 
there is folly in a fantastic disseiit^^such 
as that of Mrs. Bloornev and iier friends — 
there is a far greater self-condemnation of 
the judgment in adherence to an absur- 
dity which involves filthiness as well as 
inelegance, like the present long skirts. 

Mrs. Fry's Rule. — 1. I never lose any 
time; I do not think that lost which is .spent 
in amusement or recreation sometime e- 
veryday; but always be in the habit of 
being employed. 2. ife.ver say an ill 
tliin'>' of a person when thou canst say a 
good thing of him; not only speak charita- 
bly, but feel so. 3. Never err the least 
m truth. 4. Never be irratible or un- 
kind to any body. 5. Never indulge 
thyself in luxuries that are not necessa; y, 
6.' Do all things with consideration, and, 
when thy path to act right is most diffi- 
cult, feel confidence in that Power alone 
which is able to assist thee, and exert thy 
own powers as far as they go. 

There are, in certain heads, a kind of 
established errors, against which reason 
has no weapons. Tliere are more of 
these mere assertions current than c.ne 
would believe. Mea are very fond c.f 
proving their ste.di'a^t adh.erence ty uou-- 
sen-"e. 



1©4 



CLASSIC UNION. 



[Forthe Classic Union.] 
THE INCOKSTDEKATE VOW. 

BY AGRICOLA. 

Elated with success, the vrctorioiis Gilea- 
dite drew near to Mizpah. The warlike 
hosts of Aramon had fallen victims-tq the 
rage of his avenging svrojd, or fled to the 
secluded caverns of Zoar, that could but 
remind them of the deep disgrace of their 
ancestry. The streaming blood of slaught- 
ered warriors had marked the deviating' 
by-w:-iya from Arreor to Minnith, and 
both the treasures and ashes of a full 
score of hostile cities, with their unnum- 
bered, flaming altars and magnificent tem- 
ples, to Astarte and Chemosh, rendered 
more glorious the fame of that victory 
which freed Israel from the galling and 
oppressive yoke of an eighteen years ser- 
vitude. Thns triumphant Jeptha turned 
his wearied footsteps from the ensanguin- 
ed plains to bear the welcome news 'over 
the terraced hills of Gilead ani listen to 
the joyful paeans ol freemen. 

To him all creation bore an aspect of un- 
usual beauty and cheerfulness. The bril- 
iant sun-in a cloudless sky, was declining 
toward the Western horizon — the gfcntle 
Zeph3'rs — Jie' musical rippling of the pla- 
cid waters of the Jabbok — the unmetred 
lays of the fjrest. Chorister aud the ce as- 
less applause of his armed follower.s oper- 
ated upoa him v/idi the magic influence of 
a Siren, and bathed his enraptured soul 
ia the inefl'able extr.cies of a waking dream. 

But soon the familiar sound of the tim- 
brel is heard, and that wild turaultuou.s- 
throng becomes an orderly array of soldi- 
ers awaiting the command s of their gallant 
leader. 

"While lo! from far tlieir came' a female band," 

With one hat midst iJiem walVd with timbrel 

in hand. i 

I 
With the musical skill of an Orpheus | 

she displayed more beauty of countenance i 

and unaflected ease and grace than is of- ! 

ten seen or even heard of by mortals. } 

Truly she was.an object worihy of admi= j 
ration- — she was indted a lovely crea'.ure, i 
end well might Jephtha have been proud 
to claim her as his daughter, his only! 
daughter, for beside her he hdd neither i 
son nor daughter. ' 

He was returning from the dreaded un- \ 
certainties ot battle, alive, unhurt, and vie- j 
torions. They drew near and nearer — 
and as the veteran Gileadite clasped his 
long absent child in his swarthy arms, 
from a thousand stentorian lungs there a- 
j-ose a continued shout rendered thrice 
deafening by a blast from thre(3 score bu- 
g%s Off war, liJi the reverberatino- echo 



from the neighboring hills repeats their 
sflcred watchword — Tlte simrd "of God and 
the sicord of Jephtha." 

Happy joyfu^ meeting! Bat soon how 
changed! This same spot was once called to 
witness a vow — a too lately rer/reiled vow — 
"Whoever of mv hpuse shall come foi'th to 
meet me returjiing a conqueror, shall bg 
the Lords." 

But sudden as the flash of electric fire, 
asl/ds rushed upon his memory, he rent 
his clothes and cried "Alas my da'ughter! 
thou art one of them that trouble me. I 
hcve opened my mouth and cennot go 
back:" His dark eye glared, his proud 
breast heaved, his cheek's hue came and 
went, till . , 

rhrcMii'h all his bones a shakingtremor stole, 
\;.(1 ;\ cliiJ; clon'd of grief o're .spread his soul, 
1 li;it l;vii:i))g tkere Stood ready winged for 

'iVhile r.car his eyeballs s-n'am the shades of 
. -ni-ht. - . 

But relenting fate decreed that his 
time had not come, for he^ yet rem''iin-. 
ed-tD march his siiliole band over the 
hills W Gilead and hear, the ill-fated E- 
"hramite .liap the condemning Slboleth. 
While she lived long to hear the wood- 
land steeps and sequesterd glens resound 
to the -melanclioly wail of the maidens of 
Israel l.imenting the virginity of Japhtha's 
only child — lived a reproof, a breathing 
;nuuuiiiei?t of the riishness of an iucuiuid- 
erate vow. 



The Eeplt of a Rum-seller. — Not 
long since a man made this pioposition to 
a doggery keeper : "ouppose my boy had 
;:onti'ac,tJ tliis -habit ol drinking. In all 
other respects he is all I could desire; but 
b}' this habit he has destroyed my com- 
fort, and his mother looks heart-broken. 
There, look at h.im, he is st 'ggering at, the 
steps. My God! ctm that bloated, blos- 
somed thing be my son ? He staggers in 
vvhere his njothcr is ! Can you measure 
her anguish, as she sees her first-born a 
sot.' Well, now, let me suppose that some 
kind frieud has reached his heart, and he 
'gives up his cups. All is gladness in our 
house. He is once more all thut v,'e could 
desire in. our son; but some companion 
excites his lust for drink.- The' appetii 
craves them with tlio power of an unta- 
med demon. ' They come to yqiir coun- 
ter and as^for brandy. You kno^w the 
consequence— that my son. will become 
i;wo fold more the child of hell th.an be- 
fore," aiid that my' family "Will' again be 
plunged into the deepest grief. Would 
yo.u sell liim brandy unxlec these circum- 
stanc&s?" Th« keeper pf the Doggery 
replied, "Yes, I wop,D, if he had mosei 
TO PAr FOR II." - '.'Then you are a 
scoundal of the first water, and deserve a 
halter,'' vras the reply of the individual, 
and there is. an instinctive leeling of th.e 
heart which says "Amen" the apparently 
severe words. 



MARK OF GENTILITY. 
There are a variety of ways by which 
certain frail specimens of humanity en- ' 
deavor to exhibit their superiority to the 
rest of mankind, and prove that they are 
not allied to the vulger crowd, but belongs 
to the first class of society. One, in con- 
scious poverty of intellect, who happens 
to have a little of "the shining dust" en- 
deavors to cover up deficjencies and at- 
tract attention by plotting on a showy 
exterior, and dizzling -the eyes of the 
multitude by ths glitter- of wealth. An- 
other is constantly reminding you of his 
illustrious ancestry. He wishes to have 
it distinctly understood that no vulgar 
blood courses through his veins, and he 
never fails to express his coiitempt for the 
mush-roon aristocracy which the commer- 
cial prosperity of our country has caused 
to spring up around him. Another, 'who 
_has neither wealth or ancestry to boast of, 
contrives to place himself above the vul- 
gar, by obtaining, no body knows how, a 
gold headed cane, a gold watch, and a few 
pins and rings, which he never fails to dis- 
play on all possible occasions. Butt after 
all, the cheapest 'v\'ay of showing off su- 
periority is the habit of being always late 
at every place they attend and especially 
at the Sanctuary. To pass into the church 
at the appointed hour, would blend them 
with the vulgar throng. Their actions as 
they come sweeping in after the services 
have commenced, -say as clear as actions 
can speak, we are of some importance — : 
we are not so vulgar as to come to church 
at the appointed hour — ive intend to be 
noticed and have all eyes turned upon us 
when we enter the house of worship, — a 
fair uninterrupted view of us, will amply 
compensate for the loss of an idea or two 
which may fall from the-Speaker while we 
are taking our seats. 

There is no denying the fact that there 
are those who regard the practice of com- 
ing late to aii'y assembly a? a mark of gen- 
tility and the opposite practice as rustic 
j and unrefined. It is not down right lazi- 
ness 'ivhieh makes some people always late 
j at public gatherings, but the notion which 
j they entertaiii that such conduct indicates 
! one's noble extractions. If they k-new, 
however, the feelings which such beha- 
j vior always enacted in the minds of every 
sensible person, they would endeavor to 
exhibit their dignity of birth and polite 
manners in some more appropriate v/ay. 

E. 



Men and actions, like objects of sight, 
have their points of perspective; some 
must be seen at a distance. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



lOo 



^l)£ (Jllassif l^niott: 



"Nisi doininu«, frnstra." 



.M. HILLSMAN, 

A>-D THE FACULTY OF TSIOX UXITEES-ITY, 

Editors and Proprietors. 




DECEMBER 15, 1851. 



EEVISION OF THE SCRIPTURES. 
A meeting of the friends of Rivision 
will be lield in Memphis on the 2Gtli of 
the present month. A call 'is made upon 
all Christians of all Denominations who 
are in favor of a new translation of the 
Scriptures to meet and consult on the sub- 
ject. 

If we believed that American Chris- 
tians could be induced to unite upon a new- 
translation of the Scriptures we would 
lieanily approve of the objects of this 
meeting, -it is true that we have great 
respect and love for our present Version. 
Considering the age when it was made, 
and the few facilities lor gaining a correct 
knowledge of the originals which then ex- 
isted, it is most excellent. But still ^t is 
confessedly very imperfect. Since our 
present Translation was made, great 
changes have been produced in our own 
language, and, owing to these changes, 
many passages which were translated cor- 
reetly, and which, at that time, conveyed 
the true sense of the original, now either 
convey no meaning at all, or a meaning 
different from their true interpretation. — 
It is true also that the knowledge of the 
Greek and Hebrew languages was much 
Jess extensive and accurate than it now is, 
and that the principles of Biblical inter- 
pretation were much less clearly defined. 
Owing to these causes, errors are now 
" detected in our Version which in that age 
escaped unnoticed. It is tiue again that 
the Translators of our Scriptures were 
forbidden by king James I. to translate 
many words, and were requested to use 
certain ecclesiastical words familiar to the 
people in their stead. In consequence of 
these various causes our present English 
Version is very imperfect, and, as we said, 



we would heartily approve of a new trans- 
lation if American Christians could be 
inducedio unite upon it. 

The question now arises, can this- be 
done ? We ^nsweF;that, in our opinion, 
it cannot at present .be done. There is so 
much of Sectarianism among the different 
denominations that they would, never be 
biought to tiuite -on a new translation. — 
Each party endeavoring to interpret the 
Bible tosuitlts_own views, none would be 
\\ dhng to accept the translation of another. 
iNot uiitil Christians are willing to throw 
away their Creeds and submit to the sim- 
ple teachings of God's Word, can they be 
influenced to unite on a n-ew Translation. 
While party spirit is so strong that even 
good men, unconsciously to themselves, 
bend and distort the Word of God to 
make it conform to the " form of sound 
words" written in their Creeds, it is ini- 
possible to induce the great body of Chris- 
tians to be willing to receive a new and 
more excellent Translation. 

We are therefore opposed to the adop- 
tion of a new translation by any one de- 
nomination, while the great body of Chris- 
tians are unwilling to receive it'. The 
ground of our opposition is simply 'that 
such a course vfoxild not he expedient. Ev- 
ery denomination, except the one adoptino- 
it, would call it a Sectarian Bible, and men 
generally would ncTt believe thft .it WiWa 
true translation of the Word of God. — 
Even supposing it as near perfect as man 
could make it; still the mere fact <)f its 
being adopted as the translation* of one 
denomination would cause all others to 
look upon it with suspicion, and would 
prevent their receiving it as the Word of 
God. In addition therefore to its bidding 
another cause of contention to the already 
accumulated diff'erenccs between Cjiris- 
tians, it would add no ntw liglit to the 
world, simply becau.se the wprli would 
believe it to be the Bible of a party, and 
would really prevent the denomination a- 
dopting it from effecting; by turuiag o.liei's 
lo whatthey believed- the trath, as great 
an amount of good, as they' wotild luive 
done if. the new translation had never 
been adopted. 

We have thus given, our humble senti- 
ments in regard to. this question which is 
now engaging much of the public atten- 
tion. Abstract the question from the cir- 
cumstances which surround it, and we 
would heartily approve of a new transla- 
tion. But under the present circum- 
stances we think it inexpedient for any 
denomination of Christians to adopt any 
other translation than the one in common 
use. 



We would be willing however, (and in- 
deed would greatly rejoice at it) for a new 
and more excellent translation to be made. 
Nothing would give usmore pleasure than 
to know that some man or qompany of 
men, thoroughly qualilied for the work, 
were engaged either in a new translation, 
or in such a revision of the Scriptures as 
would free our Version from its acknowl- 
edged errors. Let no denomination how- 
ever adopt it as its own. peculiar transla- 
tion, for that, through- party prejudice, 
would defeat its object — to enlighten the 
world. But let it be given to the world 
as a book of reference and to be read by 
all who are willing to use it. 

S. 



THE REPUTATIOif OF MINISTERS. 

The office of a Christian Minister de- 
mands respect and he who faithfully dis- 
charges its duties, has a claim on the kind 
regards of his fellow-men. To detract 
from the reputation of a minister is to de- 
stro'y his usefulness and blast his hopes. 
Men in other professions may have spots 
on their riioral character and still be suc- 
cessful in life. The lawyer and physcian 
may plead your cause or heal your disease 
without being a man of irreproachable 
moral character, But the minister must 
be "without reproach." If his reputation 
is gone — his all is gone. No learning nor 
eloquence, nor accomplisLmeutb, c.n ccm • 
pensate for the want of this. 

Let no man speak evil of ministers. If 
to traduce the character of other men is 
wrong, how much worse to speak evil of 
those messengers ci heaven whose good 
repiite is the- otily basis of their useful- 
ness and success in life. They may have 
faults: — le-t them not be borne trumpet- 
t©ngued througli the world There are 
people enough who will take pleasure in 
publishing their faults, without christians 
putting themselves to the trouble of doing- 
it. Meo in general are sufiBciently sharp- 
sighted in regard to the faults of others, 
and especially is this true respecting the 
faults of ministers. Most men regard them 
as public, targets set up in the sight of the 
world, which every one may shoot at with 
impunity. Let every Christain therefore 
guard, -with the most assiduous care, the 
reputation of ministers. S. 



To Correspondents. — Having adopted 
the course persued by all publishers, not 
to publish any communication^ unaccom- 
panied with a responsible name, those 
forwarding us anonymous articles will un- 
derstand why they do not appear. 



lOG 



CLASSIC UNION. 



OUR PAPER AGAIN. 



Desirous at once to place our paper on 
a firm basis, by running up our subscrip- 
tion list a few ^hundred more names, we 
take the privilege of asking the aid of our 
friends in procuring subscribers. "Will 
not each subscriber send us one more 
name ? This would double our list, and 
It can be done. Who will send us the 
largest list bj- our next issue ? 

We propose to an}' friend sending us 
five new subscribers and the money, the 
sixth copy free of cost for one year. 

To any one sending us ten paying sub- 
scribers we will send him for one year 
either of the following papers : Tennes- 
see Baptist, Christian Index, South-wes- 
tern Baptist, or any other paper he may 
select of the same price. By a httle ef- 
fort, through this arrangement, any one 
may procure the Classic Union, and ano- 
ther good Religious or Literary paper for 
cue year for only One Dollar. 

To any one sending us twenty new pay- 
ing subscribers we will send him either of 
the above papers, and the Western Re- 
corder, edited by Jno. L. Waller, -Louis- 
■ville, Ky. — or any other paper of the same 
cost, at the option of the individual sen- 
ding the names. 

Here is a rare chance to increase one's 
newspaper reading without actual cost. 
Who will be the first to respond with a 
Tist of names ? H- 



preaching session. It is expected the 
present Faculty will be reinforced by the 
arrival of two accomplished Teachers 
from New York in the month of January. 
Board can be obtained in private fam- 
ilies on reasonable terms. We antioipa'e 
for this school a high degree of prosperity 
and usefulness. 



UNION UNIVERSITY. 

This institution will commence the sec 
ond term of the Collegiate year on Mon- 
day, the 5lh of January next. The pres 
ent term has been one of unparalleled 
prosperity. Students are already arriving 
fco2enter the next terra. 

In the commencement of the present 
terra so many students came in that there 
was considerable difficulty in procuring 
boarding places for all. But that difficul- 
ty is now obviated. Ample , provisions 
have since been made for the accommo- 
dation of a large number, so that none 
need apprehend any diffi-culty in this re- 
spect for thefuture. 



The Tennesseb Baptist Female In- 
stitute.— It will be seen by a reference 
to our advertising columns that, the second 
session of this rising Institution will com- 
mence on the 7th of January next. The 
success which has attended the enterprise 
thus far has surpassed the most sanguine 
expectations of its friends. The prospects 
are fair for a considerable accession of pu- 
pils at the commencement of the ap- 



AM I PREPARED FOR DEATH? 
Reader, can you answer this qviestion in 
the affirmative? K ycm were informed 
that you must die within one week, would 
you consider that time sufficient for yuu 
to arrange your earthly aftairs and pre- 
pare for the solemn change? You admit 
that you must die, and that life is uncer- 
tain — that you may be cut off at any mo- 
ment, and it may be without a day's war- 
nino-; and yet you make no preparation. — 
Do you act wisely? God has spared the 
raiprofitable lig tree another year, but has 
it brought forth fruit? Are you be^* 
prepared for eternity now than you were 
one year ago? What right have you to 
expect that God will spare you another 
year? Can you give one reason why the 
order, "Cut down the unprofitable fig 
tree, why cumbereth it the ground," 
should not now be given in reference to 
you? Why should God continue, a life 
which is one of determined enmity and 
persevering rebellion against his govern- 
ment, when the slightest withdrawal of 
his protecting care would prostrate his 
enemy in the dust? Do you recollect the 
time when you were prostrate by disease? 
And do you not remember the alarm you 
felt at the prospect of entering eternity 
unreconciled to God? And have you for- 
trotten the promises you then made, that 
Tf God would spare your life, and raise 
you from that bed of sickness, that you 
would seek him without delay and devote 
the remainder of your days to his service? 
How have those promises been redeemed? 
and if God should again bring you to the 
brink of the grave, could you expect him 
to listen to your entreaties, or again ac- 
cept of promises which you have once so 
wonJ,only violated? Would it not be an 
insult to the majesty of Heaven for you 
a-gam to entreat him to restore you to 
health and prolong your days? Let me 
entreat you to fix your attention upon the 
position you occupy as an immortal and 
accountable being and withdraw it not 
until you perceive and feel the solemn re- 
ahties connected with it, and then adopt 
such resolutions as your judgment and con- 
science shall dictate, and act upon them 
without delay. God the S pirit will ena- 
ble you to enter the path of holiness, and 
God the Saviour will reward you for com- 
injx unto Him. . K. 



[For the Classic Union-] 
Mr. Editor: — Being a man of leisure 
I have concluded to note down some of the 
observations of my daily peregrenations, 
and submit them to your inspection and 
if you think they are worthy of a place in 
your paper, they are at your disposal. I 
belonf to that ancient aiid time-honored 
fraternity, yoleped loafers — a class of hu- 
man beings, which in my opinion, has 
never received that attention and honor 
which justly belong to it. My time I 
spend chiefly in sitting about the streets 
and shops when the sun is sufficiently 
warm; when the weather is not conveni- 
ent for out door observation, I loll on the 
counters' of the merchants or sit around 
their warm stoves and fires. I am not, 
however, an idle spectator of passing 
events.. My ears and eyes are always 
opened to what is passing around me, and 
though I am seldom guilty of reflection 
myself, yet if I chronicle my observations 
thev may perhaps lead to some useful re- 
flections in others. Not long since I was 
seated near a stove in the back part of 
one of our mercantile establishments, 
when a lady entered and the following di- 
alogue insued: 

Clerk — Good morning, madam, what 
shall I have the pleasure of showing you? 
Lady — I wish to look at some of your 
Mousseline deLaines. 

C. — We have a great variety of pat- 
terns, and here is one which I selectetf in 
Philadelphia on purpose for you. I un- 
derstood your taste so well that I knew 
exactly what would please you. Is not 
that superb— it is decidedly rich; (throw- 
ing it down on the counter.) 

L. — That is indeed beautiful. But do 
you think the colors are suSiciently bright? 
C. — Oh yes — That is thelatest fashion — 
all the go now — no person of taste would 
have a dress of any brighter colors. — How 
well that would become you — ^just exam- 
ine it — see what a fine piece it is. 

L. — It is very good, but what is the 
price? 

G. — It is very cheap — dirt cheap. I 
bought it at a great bargain. And as it js 
vou, madarae, I will le,t you have it for one 
dollar and twenty -five cents per yard. 

L. — Oh, I can't think of giving so high 
as that. 

C. — Indeed madame, believe me, that 
is remarkably cheap — just examine it — 
you have not observed how fine it is. Is it 
not nice? You cannot purchase as good 
an article'at any place in this town for 
one cent less than a dollar and a half — yo u 
seethe mar.;ed price is ore dollar and 
seventy-five cents. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



107 



SCRAPS BT A PASTOR. 



IXTEMPERAKC3. 

, To obluttd consciences which sting 

YovNG ^^:^-. ! them, and to increase the hilarity of their 

Every patriot, philanthropist, and chiis- ^^ickeJ employments, young men look up- 



L.— I think it is very pretty; but can 
you not afford it for a little less? 

C— We are making but very little pro6t , j-^-g^^ patriot, philantnropisi, anu cm i>- .^vickeJ employments, young men ,uuo. ^^ 

on it at the price I offered it ; but seeing ^^.^^^ ^^^-^^ ^ ^g^p interest in this class of ^^^ ^i^g ,vine when it is red and giveth its 
it is you, you may have it for one dollar'] g^jgjgty _xTpon our young men must soon; ^^-^qj. ;„ the cups, forgetting that at last, 

and ten 'cents a yard, and that is about j ^^^^ ^^^^^ vast interest of our nation. They jt ^iteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an 
I think it would become you most | ^^^^^ ^.^^^^ ^j^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ip ^f ^tate to her , ^dd '"" " -■-—■—:""• >— ^ - r^rf^^^A 



The intoxicating bowl is pressed 



cost. I thmk It wouia uecuiuc J V- ! must direct the noble snip oi suuv: i." "^' . aaaer. lue lui-uAiLauiiijj uv,..» 

admirably. Hold it up to the light— you i ^^^.^_^^^ haven, or in their hanis she must {^ t^g lips with its slow, subtle 

__-7. .,lf:*-r^k^mifipQ _ . , , ..1 iT__1 ^r,r^p TviillinDC 11 n- i ! T'UoT^ tlio Tvinrr-h IS U^PA 



but sure 



aesiieu.iiii.vcu, ^ji m ..-..- -- ^„ .,..„ ..^-- 

be dashed, with the hopes of millions up-i pojsou. Then the march is generally on- 
on the roc'lis of despotism, or lost amidst^ „-ard to a drunkard's doom. And how 
the quick-sands of corruption. Let our' sad is that doom, "no drunkard shall m- 
young men be distinguished for integrity herit the kingdom of God." 
of character, and purity of life, and all, gambling _ 

will be well. Then ttey will unfold the , By gambhng is meant betting in e^ery 
mysteries of science, and incr-ea^e the won- form, encouraging lotteries, and foohsh 
dersof art for the purpose of elevating practice of playing at games of chance It 
hi<.her and hioher the human race. In is<)nly for amusement at first, but if there 
their hcnds our literature would be shorn, was no playing for amusement, there would 
of its present evils, and become the teach- 1 -be no g^^bling. Tl^ lowest, and most 
erofa sound morahty and world-wide be- 1 disgusting passions rule in the hearts of 
nevolence. Then could they go forth on ' those who give themselves up to this ^ It 
too7but it is far inferior to this pattern;' j^^.^j^^^^g jnission,. carrying the char-' is a sm which breaks all the tender ties 
and allow me to tell you, those of Mr. i ^^j. ^^ J;^^g^.^y j^nd religion to every nation which bind a man to his family and soci- 
Job's are some which he has had on hand ' ^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^ ,^,^^,_ I ety . It renders him an outcast from all 

for several years, and he purchased them j ^^^ ^^ ^gg^ the high demands of the holy influences, and companion of those he 
I know about these | ^^^ ^^^ ^^g expectations of their fiiends, | despises, and a prey to the cruel. "Touch 
'they must shun the evils which surround- not, handle not," should be the motto of 
them Some of them may be mentioned, every young man who would escape this 
IDLENESS. whirlpool of iniquity, the centre of which 

11 give y uu ..ia.. I It is the law of God that we should la- ^ j^ j^g ^oad to hell. 

C— Well, really madam, that would ^q^_ either mentally or physically or Jof/i. lewdness. 

be makincr- too great a sacrifice. I must ' ijigness is, therefore, a crime, or a. sin. To describe the extensive and dammng 
have a ddlar— could not afford to sell it ^nd how verv general is this sin with the! power of this is impossible. It is, perhaps 
for^tiecent less-it cost me more than I yo^ng men of this age! The youth and the greatest of all obstacles to thesalva- 
that. 1 even Uie young man has no employment jion of many young men. God's word is 

L.— Then I can't take it. Good day, , j^^ j^^^^j^y gases the parent provides none, I fearfully discriptive here. The strange 
■ ■ ' "■ ' or so little that it results in nothing use- 1 soman's "feet go down to death, her steps 

ful. The young man is thus made an en-- take hold on hell— her house is the way 
gine of evil, fitred up witli all the instru- ' to hell, going down to the chambers of 
ments of destruction, which the devil is in- ^^eath." "No whoremonger or unclean 
1 vited to possess and direct for his own'dark person hath any inheritance in the king- 
1 purposes. Parnetsl as you value your ■ jom of Christ and God." Let the licen- 
j own happiness, and the 'souls of your child- 1 tious remember that each shall stand with 
jren, never allow them to grow up in idle j his partner in guilt, before the Judge of 
i ness. Young men! scorn to be loafers, qujgk and dead. Young men cannot min- 
L. — No, you must give all, or I will not '; jj^^.g goQiething to do. and do it well. gig ^ilh the vile, let the vileness be dress- 

take it. ! BAD COMPANY. I ed in ever so tasteful a garb, without be- 

C— Well, I will do so, as it isyo?/. j j-^^^^.^ are thousands of young men, wfho' ^^^-^^^^ polluted. Hence it is that a li- 
The lady takes it up and as she turns j ^^.g ^^^ disgraced and ruined, who would ^g^,- J,^ theatre, immodest dancing, and 
to leave, she remarks, "Please charge it, I j^^^^g ^^.^^^ ornaments to society and bles-| ^^^ amusements, which tend to inflame the 
will you ?" 

C. — Yes madam, with pleasure 



have not seen half its beauties. 

L._But you ask too much for if- you 
can take less-you know I trade a great 
deal with you. 

C._I know that, madam, and for that 
very reason I am wiUing to sell it to you 
for less than I would to any other person; 
you may have it for one dollar a yard ; 
and surely you cannot object to that. 

L.— I can buy just as good at Mr. JoVs 
for seventy-five cents; I saw a piece there 
to-day. 

C— Ah ! we have some at that price. 



at first, at auction, 
things. 

L. Now, can't you sell this for seven- 1 

ty-five cents ? I am certain you can — 1 1 
will give you that. 



[starts for the door.] 
• C— Stop, madam, seeing that is you, 
you may take it for seventy-five cents. 

L. — And will you throw in the trim- 
mings ? 

C. — I could not, indeed, do that. 

L.— Mr. Jobs always throws in the 
trimmings. 

C. — I will throw in one half. 



sings to the world, had t^^ey never' been | ^^^.^^^^ ^^.^ ^^^j.;y^jj^j.,,iyy pe,.„icious. 
['^■^■"' : the companions of the abandoned. A man " 



,„.... ^ I These are some of those evils which pol- 

lady.] Well, lam thankful I have got =3 ^nown by the company he keeps because , ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ man's heart and life, and 

rid of that old piece that has been on U^^g ..gry fact of keeping it, transforms him ^ ^^^^^^^ ^^.^ "fulfilling his noble destiny 

I was determined to selj ! -^^^^ jts likeness. Heaven's truth declares / - - - 



hands so lonj: 



it if I did not get thirty cents for it 

Second ^Clerk.— You need hot rejoice 

so much; I think it exceedingly doubtful 

whether you ever get a cent for it. 

Cleik — It was half-worn out, any how, 

by being knocked about the counter these 

three or four years. 

At this stage I left. Omega. 



which otherwise awaits him. There are 
'evil cummunications corrupt good man-| ^^^^^.^ ^^.j^j^j^ ^^.jjj naturally suggest thcm- 
ners." Young men! you cannot have bad 1 selves. 

associations without being injured. You! Now, how shall our young men avoid 
mav as well fill vour bosom with coals of these evils? They must believe the dccla- 
tire' and not bo "burnec; or come in con- , rations of the Bible as certain facts, and act 
tact with the small pox and not be infec- accordingly. "Wherewillal shall a young 
ted as to enter vile company on terms of, man cleanse his way? ly tok'ng heed there- 
equality and not bo contaminated. . \ io according to tly tvKnd."— Index. 



108 



CLASSIC UNION. 



From the Rutlievford Telegraph. 
The Sabbath. 

Is the Sabbatli au -institution of man? 
or has it the sanction of God, s autho-rity^. 
The beneficial tendency of tlie Sabbath ap- 
pears to be adttiittfcd by all discerning 
men; and especially by all men, who have 
any becoming respect for Christianity. 

But is it the will of God, that cne day 
in seven should be devoted to religious 
purposes? In other words, rs there any 
Sabbath under the New Testament dispen- 
sation, having, the sanction of God's Au-- 
thority? 

This question has been suggested by 
some remarks, that were published in tli^ 
Nashville Daily Gazette, bearing date 
Nov. 30th, under the caption — "The Ques- 
tion OF THE D.-iY." 

The benign influence of the Sabbath, 
and the sad consequences attendant on its 
desecration are admitted iu the following 
appropriate and beautiful language: — ■ 

"The wisdom and experience of- ages, 
have uniformly decided in its t'a.\of'. There 
is a propriety in it, as shown by its influ- 
ence upon individual character and nation- 
al prosperity. Without a Sabbath, no' one 
can tell how soon men would cease to ac- 
knowledge allegiance to a superior power. 
Without it, a decent reverence for religion 
would too soon give way to foi;getfulness 
of God, to tlie hazard of national glory and- 
private virtue. France tested its abolition, 
and the historj' of that act is written in the 
blood of whole hecatombs of victims. — 
France and Italy and Mexico are no\v: sol- 
ving the question, whether it may be de- 
spised and rejected with impunil}'. The 
unsettled and revolutionary conditioij jqi 
those countries bears au'ful testimony to 
the truth, that national stability and glory 
are inseperable, to a great extent, from 
national piety. Wild and progressive as 
our people may become, v.-e hope and be- 
lieve that they will never cease to cherish, 
and observe the Sabbath." 

These sentiments are not only true, but 
they are expressed with great force and 
beauty. And can it be, that an institution, 
that is so beneficial to man, and souecessa,- 
ry to the perpetuitj' of the Christian reli- 
gion on the earth, is without the sanction 
of God's authority? Does the Bible con- 
tain an expression of the good will of God 
to man; and are its laws ,ln tended to gov- 
ern him both as a citizen of earth, and as 
a probationer for eternity; and yet is the 
benign and indispensable institution of 
the Sabbath not to be found among its 
laws? Is such a supposition Tionorable to 
the wisdom and goodness of the Author 
of the Christian religion? And yet this is 
tha opinion, that is expressed in the Daily 
Gazette, as will be manifest from the fol- 
lowing extract: 

"We have long thought, that the argu- 



ments in defense of the Sabbath, which we 
so often hear from the pulpit, proceed 
upon a too narrow, and somelimes unten- 
able viev/ of the subject. We have heard, 
read, and thought much upon it, but have 
never been able to connect any di\'ine com- 
ntand with the religious observance of the 
first day of the week. Ver}' many good 
people rest their faith upon the fourth clause 
of tlie decalogue, which may have no more 
application than the v^rse in Genesis, in 
wliich we are told, that God '-rested" on 
the seventh day from all his work, which 
he had made." It would seem to us won- 
derful and unaccountable, that their should 
be no direct command to the point in the 
New Testament, if it were intended to be 
made one of the intrinsic and essential doc- 
trines of the Christian religion. It would 
hardly have been allowed, upon this sup- 
position, to rest ujjon argument and infer- 
ence and usage. We 

believe there is no passage, in which either 
before or after his resurrection, he direct- 
ly enjoined the observance of the first day. 

. -. The propriety of a general 

Sabbath, therefore, in our view, rests ra- 
ther in the history and experience of the 
Church and 'of all good men and of all na- 
tions, than in any specific and direct com- 
mand. . . ■ . . . To our minds, it 
loses nothing, of its attractiveness in being 
a free will offering from man. It is not less 
beautiful, from being a weekly sacrifice 
from the creature to the merciful and be- 
nevolent Creator." 

-I have quoted largely, that the views of 
the writer may be fairly and correctly seen. 
The Sabbath, viewed in the light of a "free 
will offering from man." may have atlrac 
(iveness and hsauty, but it ceases to be an 
institution of religion. It is the preroga- 
tive of God alone to appoint a religious in- 
stitiition. "There is a- very palpable differ- 
ence in the two cases; and the difference is 
fundamental. In one case we have the 
mind of man; in the other we have the mind 
of God. In one case we have the authority 
of man; in the other we have the authori- 
ty of God. If the .'Sabbath is a divine in- 
stitution, it binds the conscience, and, in 
the proper observance of it, we may feel 
assured, that w.e are rendering a service, 
that is acceptable to God. But if it be 
merely an appointment of man, no sin can 
arise from the neglect of it; and aft that 
o-ood citizenship can require, is, to avoid 
that course of conduct, that would violate 
the laws of the land. Where, in that case, 
would be the Christian Sabbath? Its sa- 
cred character would be gone, and in its 
place would appear "the image and super- 
scription" of man. Moreover how differ- 
ent must be the feelings of the intelligent 
and devout worshipper in the two cases? 
In one case the obedience is rendered to 
man, in-the other, it is rendered to God. 

It then becomes a matter of unspeakable 
importance to ascertain, ■whether what is 



called the Christian Sabbath has the sanc- 
tion of God; or whether it has only the 
sanction of man. It is a sacred institution, 
if it has the sanction of God's authority; 
otherwise it is not. It is certain that the' 
appointment of man cannot make any thing 
sacred. 

The institution, called the Sabbath, is 
one thing, and the day appointed for its 
observance is another. An institution may 
be perpetual and unchangeable; but the 
time appointed for its celebration may be 
changed from the first day of the week 
to the seventh, and afterwards from the 
seventh back to the first. When the ques- 
tion, is asked, — Is the Sabbnth intended 
to be a perpetual ordinance? it is virtually 
and to all practical purposes the same 
as the enquiry — Is the Church of God 
intended to be perpetual ? Jesus Christ 
has affirmed, that "the gates of hell" 
shall not prevail against his Church. — 
But if it be true, that "men would soon 
cease to acknowledge allegiance to a su- 
perior po'n'er, without the Sabbath." If 
"without it, a decent reverence for reli- 
gion would too soon give way to forget- 
fulness of God ;" then, the perpetuity 
of the Church involves the perpetuity 
of the Sabbath. But nothing can insure 
the perpetuity of the Sabbath but the 
impress of divinity and the shield of the 
x\lmighty. Everything that is human is 
given to change. God alone can truly 
say — "My counsel shall stand, and I will 
do all my pleasure." 

It is my purpose, with your permission, 
Mr. Editor, to present some thoughts on 
this truly interesting subject in a few con- 
secutive essays. W. E. 



A person can scarcely be put into a 
more dangerous position than when exter- 
nal circumstances have produced some 
striking change in his condition, without 
his manner of feeling and of thinking hav- 
ing undergone any preparation for it. 



"They pass best over the world," said 
Queen Elizabeth, "who trip over it quick- 
Iv; for it is but a bog — if we stop vie sink." 



The first step to misery is to nourish in 
ourselves an affection for evil things, and 
the height of misfortune is to ,be able to 
indulge such affections. 

Pride is never so effectually put to the 
blush as when it finds itself contrasted with 
an easy but dignified humility. 

An hour's industry will do more to pro- 
duce cheerfulness, suppress evil humors, 
and retrieve your affairs than a month's 
moaning. 



CLASSIC UNION. 



109 



NATIOXAL CHASTIIIENT. 

AfBiciions are designed hj the Almiglity 
for the good of Nations and communities, 
as well as of churches and individuals. 
How often it is the case that nation.=> go 
so far astray and so .sinful!}' rebel against 
the great God of the whole earth, thattlwy 
need some heavy chastisement to make 
them recognize God as their Lord and King. 
Witness the sore punishments which God 
sent upon the land of Egypt because Pha- 
roah refused to let the people of Israel go. 
And how was it for that relentless- mon- 
arch to yield notwithstanding the numer- 
ous dire plagues which were showered up- 
en the land of the Nile. Witness too, the 
afflictions which oppressed the children of 
Israel, the grievous calamities which the)' 
encountered at every step of their progress 
through the fiery Desert, on account of 
their murmurings, and their sinful disobe- 
dience to the commands of God. — And 
when they had conquered their enemies, 
endured their hardships, and passed safe- 
ly over the Jordan, and secured for them- 
selves the Land of Promise, behold the pun- 
ishments they were doomed to suffer on 
account of their sinfnl idolatry, their base 
ingratitude to God, their great Benefactor; 
the numerous scathings which they re- 
ceived by fire and sword; their frequent 
captivities and long imprisonment "by the 
rivers of Babylon;" their great Temple, 
the pride of the Jewish heart and the glo- 
ry of the world, twice razed to the ground, 
and they themselves driven forth from 
their home and country as fugitives and 
vagabonds upon the face of the earth; a 
agreit national affliction sent upon that 
sinful people to make them confess their 
sins, and acknowledge the Lord Jesus 
Christ whom they hung upon the cross, as 
their Savior and Redeemer of the entire 
haman race. 

At various limes God has sent national 
scourges upon an entire nation or commu- 
nity to make them confess their sins and 
repent of national offences. Witness the 
calamities whi.jh were sent upon Rome, 
once acknowledge as the Mistress of the 
world. All over her streets and upon her 
hills, lie scattered the broken columns of 
her once splendid mansions whose pave- 
ments once rung with the princely tread of 
her haughty nobles. There stands, it is 
true, almost unimpaired by the beating- 
rains of more than two thousand years, the 
Parthenon, that mighty monument of Ro- 
man glory, graced with its statues, while 
the bronze still blazes upon its dome. — 
There stands still that most gigantic mon- 
ument of the Roman world, the Coliseum, 
within whose spacious area, the Gladiator 
died, and the criminal was rent by the 
famished lion of the forest. But where 
are the fifty thousands who sat spec- 
tators of the bloody conflict^ Where are 
the thousands who throng those seas? 
They have all passed away with the 
scourge of death! She who was proud 
and arrogant has been humbled, and the 
ftoraan Eagle which once gloated upon the 
earcasses of Kings and chieftains now 
droops her wings in death! 

It was at Rome the Martrys of the cross 



suffered the most exeruciating tortues un- 
der the bloody-minded Prince, Nero, be- 
cause thej' nobly dared to confess their at- 
tachment to the cross of Christ. Here 
they martyred those noble advocates of 
their master's cause. Peter, and Paul, 
and the" numerous body of Christians who 
perished by the most refined cruelty imag- 
inable, on account of the conflagalion of 
the city of Rorne; — a most diabolical act 
done by the officers and servants of the' 
tyrant Nei'o, by his own command,' and 
then shift the odium of his mad act from 
his own shoulders, charged must foully 
the unfortunate followers of Jesus with the 
perpetration of the horrible crime!* Nor 
less severe were the persecutions under the 
otbe.t Roman Emperors, DomiTian, and 
Trajan; for under these fell Timoth)' aud 
Poly carp and Justin and numerous others.f 

But if these cruelties have been practic- 
ed or dictated alone bj' the Emperors, then 
God might have spared Rome tlie degrada- 
tion she has suffered. But these cruel- 
ties were often suggested and urged by the 
people themselves. For we are told that 
under the reign of Marcus Aurelius, (A. 
D. ]61 — 180) "the popular fury was con- 
tinually excited against them (Christians) 
and before the- persecutions of Asia Minor, 
to which Polycarp fell a sacriffce." And 
again — "In the reign of Hadrican the pop- 
ulace began to demand that the Christians 
should be put^to death at the great festi- 
vaL"+ ^ . ^ 

But while persecution rained like fiery 
hail upon the primitive disciples of Jesus, 
it only caused thenl to cling closer to the 
cross. Affliction served to purify them, 
while the various scourges of disease, fire 
and sword, and the grinding oppvession of 
the tyrant's heel, have all sei ved to jhard- 
en Rome, Pagan, and wicked adulterous 
Rome Chrislian. 

See too how God punishes! The very 
despised sect who had been trampled up- 
pon — who had been burned at the stake, 
and suffered the most cruel tortues, gre-w 
in numbers and in strength through the 
very persecutions they endured; and by 
and by, the i^rseouted turned upon their 
persecutors, and planting their heel (grown 
hard as iron by the fires to which it dia(i 
been subjected) upon the neck of their cru- 
el oppressors th-ey, in their turn, gave law 
to the Pagan Rome and held in bondage 
centemners of the Lord Jesus Christj 
But when Rome lost the true faith, and 
becoming again idolatrous, persecuted the 
true followers of Jesus who bowed not to 
her idols, and she "had become drunk 
with the blood of the saints and with the 
blood of the martyrs of Jesus, then did 
"the Lamb against whom they had^made 
war, -overcame them," And "ten Kings" 
who were once her subjects, "have made 
war against the beast; they- have made 
her desolate and naked; they have eaten 
her flesh and burned her with firc.'§ Eng- 
land, France, Geruuvp.y, &c., have succes- 
sively thrown off their allegianca to the 
Pope and every cord that was thus sever- 
ed, served to weaken her power over the 
nations of the earth, and still more to hum- 
ble and abase Rome, "that mother of Har- 
lo'-S, aud abominalious of the E.irlh." 



Thus has God for sins conceived and exe- 
cuted by this wicked city, destroyc' her 
power and almost blotted her name fro-?^ 
the catalogue of Nations. 

All the afflictions that *ver befel a na- 
tion were intended either as punishment for 
-Some great national sin, or else they were 
designed ultimately to render that nation 
or communit}' more efficient in the cause 
of humanity or religion; to humble their 
pride, to unile them in the bonds of friend- 
ship and brotherhood, and thus by com- 
mon sympathy to promote their general 
welfare by showing to them their mutual 
depcndenoe. 

We see this fact'exemplified in the his- 
tory of the ■ American colonies. Driven 
from their fatherland by persecution, they 
crossfed thfi broad waters of the Atlantic, 
and settled upon an unfriendly shoie in 
constant danger of being massacred by the 
relentless savages of the West. Scarcely 
had they placed themselves in a position 
ofl;omparative security and independence, 
v/hen their growing prosperity attracted 
the attention of the mother country, who 
cast an evil eye ujjon their broad lands and 
productive fields.- Then began a series of 
unjust oppressions on the part of Great 
I Britain who resolved by exhorbitant tax- 
i atioHS to fill up her exhausted Treasury, 
j-This tyranical usurpaiton of power on the 
part of England awoke a spirit of resistance 
winch finally led to the memorable war of 
the Revolution and the Declaration of In- 
dependence. What was then considered 
as a deplorable calamity by the ablest 
i statcsment and the most devoted christians, 
in the end proved to be the most salutary 
good to themselves and the world at large. 
Christians and philanthropists prayed dai- 
I3', that God would avert the storm gath- 
ering over tlieir heads, and many good 
and true Patriotsprefered to suffer wrong 
rathe.i than to, draw the sword against 
their King. Indeed there were those who re 
garded the act of resistance as high treas- 
on and contrary to the laws of God, and 
would receive his angry frown forever; for 
had He not commanded them in his Holy 
Word "to honor and obey the King? But 
not so. God had intended that the Revo- 
-kition. should occur' and that good should 
grow out of evil. For the hardships which 
the Americans endured, the calamities of 
war and famine served to link them yet 
closer to each other until from one end of 
the Union to the other the American States 
became as the heart of one man, sallied b}' 
the sacred ties of brotherhsliip. Doubt- 
less the remembrance of these hardships, 
of the hard fought battles has served thus 
; far to keep these States united. But the 
; memory of Bunker Hill and Eutaw, the 
I plains of Carolina and ihehills of Vermont 
and Massachusetts, perhaps this glorious 
I confederacy might ere this have dissolved 
' and scattered to the four winds of heaven. 
i Thus far God has caused the remembrance 
of our past afflictions endured in the mem- 
i orable war of the Independence, and in 
' the war of 1812, to keep us in the bonds 
! of peace and fellowship; and God gn3nt 
j hat the hallowed recollections of the past 
1 shall allay all cause of disturbance and 



,110 



CLASSIC UNION. 



long continue to cement this glorious Uni- 
on of ours! 

As before remarked, the result of our 
national afflictions has been to benefit our- 
selves and the world at large. For the 
freedom and comparative happiness which 
•we have enjoyed at home engendered the 
desire to extend these blessings to others, 
until the entire world should become as 
free and as happy as ourseh'es. Hence, 
the- freedom of our Governrnent being de- 
rived from -the Bible, the United States 
may emphatically be styled the "Land of 
\ Bibles;" and aided by England, -many 
' countries, and many islands of the ocean, 
, have been released from the night of bar- 
barism, and made to behold the glorious 
Sun of Righteousness dawning upon their 
shore. 

Thus far, therefor*, the afflictions the A- 
merican people have endured; instead of 
blotting them out from the • catalogue of 
nations, or rendering them cruel and vin- 
dictive, have served rather to make them 
humane and religious, wise and intelli- 
gent, pro=:perous and happy, and ever de- 
sirous to ameliorate the condition of man- 
kind in general. It has been good for them 
that they were afflicted, because in all 
their hard trials they forgot not to bow to 
their God, and He has brought them out 
,,|^'ofall their troubles and "set them in a 
■^ large place." Bat should they forget these 
afflictions and cease to regard God as 
their Benefactor, then shall the sword of 
civil war or some other dire national evil 
befall them, and God will punish in his 
wrath as unsparingly as He has hitherto 
lavished his bounties upon us. 



\ 



*Tac:tns, Lib. xv. f Moslieim, Waddington. 
JGrieseler's Ec. History ^Rey. 17th chapter. 

[From the Tennessee Baptist.] 
CHARLES C TRABUE. 

A good man has departed frorn the midst 
of us. While his virtues are still fresh in 
our recollection, it is well to pause and con- 
template them. Such a review may be pro- 
fitable to us who knew him. To others this 
very slight sketch can only give an imper- 
fect impression ol his character. Yet even 
they may derive some advantage from it. : 
Whatever arouses in the Christian's heart j 
increased desires after holiness, and urges , 
him to greater activity in the work of the | 
Lord cannot be in vain. I 

Our brother Cii.4iiles c. TrabuE, was 
baptised in July 1841, by Rev. R. B. C. 
Howel, pastor of the First Baptist Church 
in this city. Of this church he continued 
a worthy member unto the day of his de- 
parture. He loved his church, he loved 
the house of prayer. Hence, in the midst j 
of infirmity, with a frame shattered by dis- i 
ease, which shut him up from the. busy ! 
walks of life, he would still resort to the j 
sinctuary to hear the Gospel, and to join ^ 
with his brethren in solemn prayer and ' 
praise to the Most High.. 

But his devotions were not confined lo j 
the house of the Lord. Notwithstanding 
bis great and long proti'acted feebleness, 
and the depressing influence of disease on 
his feelings, he regularly maintained, year 
after year, f-tmily worship. His prayers, 



when I have heard him on these and other 
occasions, were marked by fervor, plain- 
ness, directness, a beautiful simplicity and 
a deep humihtj'. One of these occasions 
I shall probably never forget. 

Humility was perhaps the most distin- 
guishing trait of his character;— a grace 
which, like a precious gem despised by 
those who know not its nature or its value, 
is, " in the sight of God, of great price." 

Our departed brother loved the Bible. 
He gave a portion of every day to the pe- 
rusal of its sacred pages. He read it, not 
desultorily, a chapter here or a psalm there, 
as his eye might happen to light on it, but 
in course, with interest, with his under- 
standing occupied in the work, and the af- 
fections of his heart in exercise. 

There are some professors of religion 
who it is feared, take no interest in the word 
of God; who seldom open the divine vol- 
ume; who really do not love it, or its Au- 
thor. Not so our brother. How pleasant 
it is to possess so much evidence as we do 
enjoy, that he was a real Christian. 

^Brother Trabue was eminently social in 
his disposition. This, combined -sVith his 
knowledge of the Bible, of his own heart, 
and of the world, rendered him an interest- 
ing companion to those who loved religious 
conversation. He was always ready to en- 
gage in such conversation. 

His afflictions and pains did not concen- 
trate all his thoughts and feelings upon 
himself. He loved his countr3^ He loved 
the world of mankind. He loved the bre- 
thren of his own church. He loved good 
men of every douomination. He was es- 
pecially a friend of the poor. I might here 
present some striking illustrations of this. 
One of the last acts of his life was making 
a special effort in behalf of a poor widow 
and her fatherless children. His was not 
that meagre, empty charity which exhausts 
itself in words; which says to the hungrj' 
and shivering poor — Depart :n peace, be 
ye warmed and filled; — yetgiveth them not 
those things that are needful to the body. 
Thus, too, his love to the cliurch manifest- 
ed itself not in loud professions, but in ac- 
tual deeds, in reuUy doing with alacrity and 
cheer-fulness such services as were in his 
power in behalf of the church. 

Our brother was one of the original 
Trustees of Union University. Nor w.as it 
his name only that stood connected with 
this Institution- Invalid as he was, he 
went to Murfreesboro' in the stage to at- 
tend the Annual Meeting of the Board in 
1850. He was present also at the Session 
of the Board last July, and no member 
there, evinced a higher interest in behalf of 
the University than did brother Trabue. 

His death was-.sudden, and to his family 
— perhaps not to himself — unexpected. 

He had been more than usually unwell 
for about four weeks. But he had lived so 
long since his health was prostrated, that 
we naturally expected he would continue 
perhaps years longer. I saw him on Sat- 
urday, November 22. How entirely ab- 
sent was it from m\' thoughts that I should 
see him no more in tliis world. 

On Mondaj' morning, November 24, he 
departed; and so gently, ilia :,.> ,t u;' Ins 
family knew theprOcise time of his depart- 



ure. He had before suffered all that God 
had appointed foj him; and his heavenly 
Father granted him a most quiet and easy 
dismission. He bore no dying testimony to 
the truth and power of the Gospel; his tes- 
timony he had borne months and years be- 
fore his death. So quietly did he expire, 
that the coverlet upon his bed, which be 
was accustomed to have carefully gathered 
up around his neck, was not at all discom- 
posed, and his arms lay extended by his 
side, and his head in its peculiar wonted 
position, as if he were enjoying a peaceful 
slumber. " He fell asleep." How quick, 
and to him glorious, the transition from 
this vale of death to the Pa.adise of God ! 
'■ Let raS die thu death of^fhe rigliteous.'' 
His funeral, which occurred on Tuesday, 
November 25, was attended by his family 
and kindred, the members of his Church, 
and others who knew him, and by his bre- 
thren of the Order of Odd Fellows, of 
whose Institution he was a beloved and 
highly respected member. The funeral 
discourse, appropriate and interesting, was 
delivered by his pastor. Rev. Samuel Ba- 
ber. Text: Phillipians 1: 21-24. 

After the sermon, a short address was 
given by Dr. Hall, a brother Odd Fellow, 
respectfully adverting to the deceased bro- 
ther — and the closing prayer was offered 
by Rev. R. A. Lapsley of this city. 
* % * * 

Our deceased brother was born in Wood- 
ford county, Kentucky, August 1798. He 
survived his pious consort two years and 
eight months. May their surviving sons 
and daughters, children "of parents pass- 
ed in,to the skies," be followers of theirpa- 
ronts' Redeemer; and be all prepared to 
meet them in the world of light and love 
and joy. In the City of God, "there 
shall be no more death — neither shall there 
be any more pain." Thanks be to God for 
the Gospel of salvation. T. B. R. 

yashville, De.c. 5. 1851. 

Death of Montgomery the Poet. — A 
recent arrival brings us intelligence of the 
death of James Montgomer}', at the ad- 
vanced aoe of four scoae. A contempora- 
ry in refering to the poet's decease, says: 
" Monto-omery will be chiefly remem- 
bered in British Literature for his devo- 
tional poetry. His productions in this 
kind are tinged with a slight coloring of 
mysticism; they breathe the spirit of the 
simple and fervent Moravian piety in 
which he was nurtured; at the same time, 
they are truly lyrical; not didactic state- 
ments in verse, but gushing from a deep 
reliu'ious fountain: blending enthusiasm 
with sweetness, and a certain Oriental unc- 
tion with modern refinement; they will 
continue to be regarded among the choicest 
specimens of choral melodies, while men 
speaking the English tongue shall meet in 
solemn assemblies forsocial worship." 

To yield the passions is to g'.ve up the 
stru"n-gle and to acknpwledgj ourselves 
better'; but to contend to the last is to earn 
the reward of the faithful. ' ^ 

The most prefitable resistance to evil is 
that of obedience of Divine Laws, as con- 
t:.iined in the word. 



CLASSIC UNION, 



111 



[From the Rutherford Telegrapli] 

The Sabbath, a Rpmembrancer of the 
M'oik of Cieatiou. 

The Kabbath is indis]iutably an ancient In- 
stitution; and it is one of high and sacred au- 
thority. There is not, perhaps, any person, 
Tvlio is in the habit of reading the Bible atten- 
tively and intelligently, but will readily admit, 
that -'this time-honored and sacred Institution 
takes its name from God's resting on the Seventh 
day from .the work of creation. The inspired 
history of this transaction is definite and point 
ed. Gen. 2: 2 3. " And on the Seventh day 
God ended his work, which he had made And 
God blessed the Seventh day and sanctified it; be- 
cause that in it he had rested from all his work, 
which God created and made." With this com- 
pare Exo. 20: 8 — i "Remember the Sabbath 
(lay to keep it holy. Six days shall thou labor 
and do all thy work; but the Seventh day is the 
Sabbath of the Lord thy God: in it thou shall 
not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy 
daughter, thy man servant, nor thy maid-servant, 
nor thy cattle; nor thy stranger that is within 
thy gates: for m six days the Lord made heaven 
and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and 
rested the Seventh day: Wherefore the Lord bless- 
ed the Sabbath day aud hallowed it." 

IS'ow, according to this inspired history, tcAra 
was the Sabbath appointed, and whj was the 
appointment made ? Doubtless the appointment 
•rfas made when God finished the work of crea- 
tion, and it was made at that time, because he 
had then finished his work. 

But God never acts without having an end in 
view; and that end is always worthy of himself. 
No person of common intelligence will suppose, 
that God was- employed six days, because he 
conld not finish the work in a shorter period— 
Thecouductof God in spending six days in the 
work of creation and resting on the Seventh, is 
the only reason that can be assigned for the di- 
vision of time into weeks. The division of time 
into day and night, into months, and into the 
different seasons of the year is natural aud easi- 
ly accounted for. But it is not so in regard to 
-sveeks. The plain, simple, brief statentent of 
the Bible, that in six days God created the heav- 
ens and the earth, and rested on the Seventh day, 
is the only reason, it is presumed, that can be 
assigned for the existence of weeks. It appears 
to be entirely arbitrary, and it bears manifestly 
the impress of divine sovereignty. But it was 
an act of sovereignty under the -direction of un- 
erring wisdom and goodness. God rested on the 
Seventh day, not because he was exhausted with 
the greatness of his work, but because man 
would need a day of rest fro.n labor and of inter- 
course with his Creator. What means the lan- 
guage," The Lord blessed the Sabbath day and 
hallowed it ?" To bless and to hallow, if not i 
strictly synonimous, are terms of nearly similar! 
import. According to Webster, "To bless ijto | 
set apart or consecrate to holy purposes; to make 
and pronounce lioly; as. He blessed the Seventh '' 
day." '• To hallow is to make holy; to conse- 
crate;, to .set apart for holy or religious use." 

But if Uiis be so; then God set apai-t the 
seventh day to holy and religious.pui-po^s; and '' 
he did so, because on that day he rested from 
the work of creation. Consequently the Sab- : 
bath was appointed to be a remembrancer ol the 
work of creation. ' I 

God, wlio saw the end from the be^iuniu" 



knew, that fallen man would be prone to forget! GEMS OF THOUGHT. 

his Creator: and to counteract this proneness he! 

appointeda weekly Sabbath as a striking memo- 1 Art.s tbat respect the mind -n-ere ever 
rial of Uie work of creation: so that man might i reputed nobler than those uhich servo tho 
shun the Charybdis of Atheism on the one hand, I bodv. 

and on the other the ScvU a of pantheism. I -Pi-t.^,, ♦;„„ , -j j • 

„,.,,,. ^ - , \ , ^1 -c-^ery time jou avoid doinij-vTron jr. you 

J he intelligent and devout observer of the I • ; , . ° •' 

Sabbath sees in the Institution, which he hal- j !"";'''''"' y°"'" '^cUnation to do that which 

low's, evidence, clear and satisfactory, not only j '* nght. 



that there is a God, but also that he is a dioine 
person, and distinguished from the work of his 
own hands. 

But if this be the design of the Sabbath; if it 
be unquestionable, that it was appointed to com- 
memorate the work of creation; — then, on whom 
does the obligation fasten to "remember the Sab- 
bath-day to keep it holy?" Can it be that this 
law of Heaven was intended to be binding on the 
Jew only, and not on the Gentile? Or was it in- 
tended to be obeligatory under the Old Testament 
dispensation only? What! Shall the Jew re- 
member the Sabbath day and keep it holy, be- 
cause in six days God created Ihe heaeens and the 
earth ;a.nd shall the Gentile be exempt from this 
obligation ? ! Do not the Jew and the Gentile 
sustain the same relation to God as their Crea- 
tor? Or shall the generations of Adam, pre- 
ceding the advent of the Son of God, be under 
obligation to observe sacredly the remem- 
brancer of the work of creation; and^hall suc- 
ceeding generations to the end of t'J^ be ex- 
empt? Is it possible for a reason to be as.signcd 
for the observance of any institution, that is of 
a more general, indefinite and perpetual nature, 
than the reason that is assigned for the obser- 
vance of the Sabbath day? Will it not be true, 
while the world stands, that God made the 
heavens and the earth in six days and rested on 
the seventh? Was this fact worthy of a memo- 
rial of God's own appointment, when the work 
of creation was finished; but has either tlie work, 
or the divine Architect ceased to be worthy of a 
memorial?! It will not do to classify the Sab- 
bath with the types and shadows of the Mosaic 
ritual; and then to infer that it has vanished 
with them- The Apostle Paul does say ,-^" Let 
no man therefore, judge you in meat, or in drink, 
or in respect of an holy day, or of the new- 
moon, or of the Sabbath days: which are a sha- 
do-sv of things to come; bufthe body is of Christ." 
Col. 2; ]C, 17. Does this embrace the Creation- 
Sabbath? Was that appointed to prefigure the 
Massiah? It is a symbol as well as a memorial- 
But of what is it a symbol? Most assuredly o'f 
the "rest that lemainelh for the people of God" 
in the heavenly Canaan. 

The Sabbath days, referred to by the Apostle, 
are the sacred festivities that God appointed for 
the annual observance ■ of the people of Israel, 
(luring which they were not allowe'd to engage 
in any servile work. 

It is enough that God appointed the weekly 
Sabbath, and assigned a specific reason for the 
appointment. That sacred institution has not 
passed away with the shadows of the Mosaic 
ritual. It wasf not a part of that typical dis- 
pensati(3n, but was appointed at least two thou- 
sand andyijw hundred years before it. It wascc- 
oval with the existence of man; and, as it wii.< 
appointed to be a memorial of t)i(- work i;l Cre- 
ation, it will stand while this earth and these, 
heavens shall stand. W. E. 



One should take care not to grow too 
wise, for so great a pleasure of life as 
laughter. 

Zealous men are ever displaying to you 
the strength of their belief, -ivhile judicious 
men are showing you the grounds for it. 
. Those who speak -vvithout reflection of- 
ten remember their own words afterwards 
with sorrovi'. 

Truth cannot be found without some la- 
bor and atti'ntion of the mind, and the 
thoughts dwelling a considerable" time 
upon the survey and discussion of each 
particular. 

He that lends an easy and credulous 
ear to calumny is either a man of very 
ill morals, or has no more sense and un- 
derstanding than a child. 

As in a letter, if the paper is small and 
we have mtioh to write, we write the clo- 
ser, so let us learn to economise and im- 
prove the remaining moments of life. 

A great man generally disappoints those 
who visit him. They are on the lookout 
for his thundering and lightning, and he 
speaks about common things much like 
other people; nay, sometimes he may even 
be seen laughing. 



MAEnim. — On Tuesday evening last, in M'- 
Jlinnville, Mr. E. H. AVilliamsIo Miss Naxcy J. 
McDaniell. 

On Sunday evening last, by James M.Haynes, 
Esq., Col. W.M. T. Ykrno.v, to Mrs. Maiitua L. 
Flovd — all of this county. 

Died— At the Goid Regions in California, on 
the 14th August, Mr. David M. S.mith, son of 
Col. Rob'l Smith of this city. 



N'OTICE. 
The Trustees'of Union University are reques- 
ted to meet on the 24lh inst., in the Chapel of 
the University, at 11 o'clock, A. M. 

By order of the President, 
' Dec. 1, ISrjl. J. H. EATON". 



Remember, an hour lost, is'-nevei-j regaincd.- 
Study to improve your leisure raonicntc. 



The Tenne.s^ee Baptist Female Institute. 

THE SE0OIv''D SESSION of this Institution 
will commence on Wednesday, January 7, 
1S52, under tlie superintendence of Mrs. E M 
EATON and Mrs. V. SHELTON, who will be 
assi-sted by as many com-petent Teachers as the 
wants of the Institute may require. 

Instruction will be given in all the ordinary 
English branches, together witli tlie higher. 
Mathematics, and the Frencli, Latin, and cTreek 
Languages, Scientific Lectures, with Experi- 
ments in Philosophy and Chemistry, for the 
benefit of the Young' L.-ulies of the Institute, by 
the Faculty of Union University. 

Music Lessons will be given by an accom- 
plished Teacher. Terms as heretofore. 

Die. 15, 1S5I, 



112 



CLASSIC UKION. 



A CLEAN HKART. 

BY G. A. LINTNER, D. D. 

A clean heart is a heart that has been 
cleansed from all filthiness of the flesh. — 
The works of the flesh are wicked works, 
such as adultery, fornication, unclea'nness, 
idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, 
emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, her- 
esies, envyings, murders, drunkenness, 
revel'ino-s, &c. From this moral pollution 
of the heart, this natural propensity for 
the works of the flesh, this liltliiness of the 
flesh, the heart of the true Christian has 
been'delivered. Although he has yet a 
corrupt and deceitful hea.t, apt to stray 
and wander from God, still, by tlie power 
of divine grace, he has been delivered 
from the ruling propensity, from the spirit 
which woiketh in the children of disobe- 
dience: " They that are Christ's, have cru- 
cified the flesh, with the affections and 

lusts." ^ , r il 

A clean heart has been freed from the 
dominion of the.Adversary. This adver- 
sary is Satan, the God of this world, who 
blinds sinners and keeps them in darkness, 
lest the light of t>.e glorious gospel should 
shine upon them. He suggests unclean 
thou"-hts, excites wicked imagraations, and 
leads^meninto impurity and vice— tempts 
and fascinates bis victims, spreads his net 
for them; draws them into his snare, and 
destroys them by multitudes. But Christ 
has destroyed the power of Satan, and 
those who go to him, and give up their 
hearts to the influence of his Spirit, shall 
have clean hearts. _ , , ., tt , 

A clean heart is purified by the Holy 
Spirit. They may have passed throug,h a 
variety of changes and experiences—had 
stron<^ convictions and deep impressions, 
and even supposed that they have been 
converted, and flattered themselves with 
the idea that they have found an interest 
in Christ, when their hearts have never 
been purified bv the Holy Spirit. When 
the Holy Spirit converts sinners. He 
makes thorough work-He goes to the 
bottom of the heart-purges out the old 
leaven— expels the evil spirit, and sweeps 
and o-arnishcs the house, so as to make it 
a fit temple for Him to dweel m—a. clean 

*" A clean heart is a heart devoted and 
dedicated to God. Pure religion leads 
man near to God, and promotes love to 
men. A man of a clean heart finds no 
comfort in the company of the ungodly.-- 
He lives above the world. He neglects 
not his worldly business. He pavs dip 
attentiontoit,buthedoesnot.sufteritto 
take away his heart from God. His con- 
versation is in heaven. His reasure is 
tl'ere-his heart is there, and his chief 
business is, that he may be prepared togo 
there. He rests not in a mere profession 
7.:r,gion. He serves God m us heart 
litis a holy temple dedicated to God, 
and in it God is honored and glorified. 

A 1 Christians have clean hearts. We 
do not say that their hearts are perfectly 
purefrom sin. But we ^^y, every tr-ue 
Chrbtian has a clean heart. Such a heart 
as D Shad, when be appealed to the 
gZ Searcher of hearts, and ^sa.d 



" Search me, God, and tiy my heart." 
Such a heart as Paul had, when he said, 

God is my witness, whom I serve with 
my spirit in the gospel of his Son." 

God looks upon the heart. He says, 
" My son, give me thine heart." He re- 
quires the heart, the homage of the heart, 
tlie affections- of the heart, the devotion 
of the heart, the whole heart, and will 
never accept of a religion that has no heart 
in it. The heart must first be rectified; 
and if th* heart be right, the walk and 
conversation will regulate itself. "A 
good tree bringeth forlh good fruit." 
"A good man out of the good treasure of 
the heart, 'bringeth forth good things." 
The only service that God approves, is 
that which proceeds from a clean heart. — 
Every substitute is a false religion, and 
God will detect and expose it. 

Fashionable Dancing. — Time was 
when the dance was decent if it was world- 
ly and foolish. That .time has passed 
away. The modern, imported dances, 
such as the "Polka," Redowa," "Scot- 
tish," and " German Cottillion," are red- 
olent with the lasciviousness of Paris and 
Vienna. And the drawing-rooms of Sara- 
toga, Newport, and Cape May, furnish ex- 
hibitioi^oo shamefully indelicate fordes- 
criptioi?^ Perhaps a counterpart may be 
found In the splendid parlors of Fifth Ave- 
nue or Chestnut street. Fashion has placed 
its. imprimatur on this outrage; and what 
has native modesty, or purity, or the deca- 
logue itself, to do with the diversions of the 
families of millionaires ? 

The gloomiest aspect of fashionable soci- 
ety is furnished in this readineas to sacri- 
fice the proprieties and even decencies of 
life to the Moloch of the day. Bitter re- 
pentinQ-s are at hand. Paternal indulgence 
and ambition thus directed cannot but re- 
sult in disgrace and ruin. That beloved 
dauo-hter, whirling in the arms of thatbe- 
whiskered villain, is on the brink of perdi- 
tion. 0, save her before virtue shrieks 
over the shrine she has left, and you curse 
the hour when you destroyed a soul to win 
a smile. — Am' Messenger. 



^bDevtiscmcnts. 



DRY GOODS MERCHANTS, 

§©iisli Si«!e Fii&Sic Square, 
4-y JIURFREESBOROUGH, TENN. 



Medicine aeid 2>entsi.9 Surgery. 

Dr. E. D. WHEELER, 
Office, West Side of the Public Square, 

jal-ly MuRFREESBOllOUGH, Texn. 



RY GOODS MERCHANTS, 

EAST SIDE 

PUBLIC SQUARE, 

Murfi-eesborough, Tenn. 



JOHN LEIPEB. WM. A. EAXSOM. E. P. MENIFEE. 

■ liEIPEE, KANSOM & CO., 
Commission and Forwaidias Merchants, 

Marfrecsboro ugh , Te nn., 

WILL attend to receiving; and fom^arding 
Goods, Wares and Merchandize consigned 
to Uieircare, witliont any charge for drayage, as 
they have in a state of completion a large^ and 
commodious brick Warehouse 150 ft long, within 
fifty yards of the Roilroad Depot— and by the 
last of September will have large and commodi- 
ous Sheds, for storing Cotton and Tobacco. j5 



THOS. WAL,SM, KesMent Dentist, 
Murfreesborough Tenii. 

^^^^R Rooms — In tlieNew'^Building adjoin- 
^^^S? ingthe Methodist Church. 

If. B. — He has been negaged in the practice of 
his profession for the last eleveu years. Char- 
ges moderate. juiy26 

CHURCH BELLS. 

J^ CHURCH, Factort, Steamboat, and 
fj H Loco.MOTiTE BELLS constantly on hand, 
^^i^and Peals or Chimes (of any nnmber) cast 
to order. Improved Cast-iron Yokes, with mo- 
veable arms, are attached to these Bells, so that 
they inuy be adjusted to ring easily and proper- 
ly, and Springs also, which prevent the clapper 
fiom resting an the Bell; thereby prolonging its 
sound. Hangings complete (including Yoke, 
Frame and Wheel.) furnished if desired. 

An experience of 30 years in this busines by 
their late father, enabled him to ascertain the best 
from for Bells, the combination of metals, and 
deo-ree of heat requisite for securing in them the 
o-reatest solidity, strength, and most melodious 
tones; which improvements, together with Ki 
very extensive assortment of patterns, are nov 
held by the subscibers, who have grown up ii' 
the business, and who will use every endeavor t 
sustain repetation which the establishment ha 
heretofore efijoyed, both in this and foreign coui: 
tries; the bells from which have repeatedly rO 
ceived the highest awards of the N. Y. _Sta' 
A"-ricultnral Society and American Institut 
and at which were completed Cliimes and heav 
Alarm Bells for different parts of the Tnion an 
Canada. 

MATHEMATICAL INSTUMENTS will sti 
bo manufactured by the Subscribers, of whic 
they will have constantly on hand an assortmei 
of Transit Instruments.^evels, Surveyors' Com 
passes, (plain, nonious and improved.) <&o. A' 
so Brass or Composition of any size cast to order 

Allcommupieationspromply attended to. 

ANDREW MESEELY'S SONS. 

West Troy, Alb. Co., N. Y. 1851. 



JSO C. SPENCE. JACOB B. SLACK. 

SNO. C. SPEKCE & CO., 
,: WHOLESALE GROCERS, 
Commission and Forwarding Merchants, 

MUUFREESBOROUGH, ' TeNV. 

Prompt attention giv-en to all goods consigned 
to their care. * J*^'! - 

I>AGiirES5KS»T¥FE STOCIi. 

PETER SMITH, Iniporler and Dealer in A- 
merican and Fvencli IHaie-t, l^rames, Chemi- 
cals, and Glasses; German and American Instru- 
ments, General Agent for the supply of Daguer- 
reotype Apparatus, and Materials of every de- 
scription. No. 36 Fifth Street, second door East 
of Walnut, Cincinnati. iuyl0-12iil* 



R. D. KEED, 

Wholesale anu Retail Dealer in 

Books, Stationery, and Fa'.icy Articles, 

ALSO 

MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS, PERFUMERY, 

JEWELRY, &c. <tc. 

Agent for Periodicals, East Side the Square, 

MURFREESBOROUGH, TENN. 



WILSON Y. JONKS. 



JAMES M. PEAK. 



JONES & PEAK, 

WHOI-ESAI.E AND KETAIL DEALERS 

In Sugar, Coffee, Molasses, Flour, 

SALT, IRON CASTINGS, WARES AND 

Merclaandize Generally, 

EAST SIDE PUBLIC SQUARE, 

Muifreesboroiigb, Tenn. 



TERMS — One Doi.l.ui per year, invariably in 
advance. Address M. Hillsman, jiost iiaid. 





DEVOTED TO EELIGION", LITERATURE, AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. 



VOL. I. 



MURFREESBOROUGII, JANUARY 1, 1852. 



NO, 8. 



[For the Classic Union.] 
MEN'S RIGHTS. 
Mr. Editor: — I see in 3'our last issue 
an article on "Woman's Rights," in T\'liicli 
tlie authoress attempts to enumerate what 
she regards as the ina!ieaabl-e rights of wo- 
men. I have no decided objection to yield 
all the rights she claims tor her sex as she 
appears quite modest in her demands and 
asks nothing but what sensible men in 
every age of the world have been willing 
to grant. But there are others of her sex 
■who hold very diflferent language and pre 
fer claims to which we never can 'jneld 
I have of 3ate read much upon this subject. 
Indeed it is becoming tlie question of the 



of whale-bone and cotton nicely adjusted 
in the proportions of a human figure by 
the skill of the raantua maker. We have 
the right to expect that our wives shall be 
rational beings, capable of thought and 
reflection, and of conversation upon sub- 
jects that will interest us. We have also 
the right to expect that tliey will have 
hands that can darn a stocbing'or sew on 
a button or cook a beef-steak, as well as 
play on musical instruments. We have 
the rio-ht to expect our wives will furnish 
us promptly with good meals whether we 
provide anything for the table or not. A- 
nother right we should insist upon very 
strenously as it would save us from a 



tion in others. These are only a few of 
the rights which should be insisted on by 
our sex it we would maintain the dignity 
and'supremacy of the masculine gender. 
Homo, 



day and it is high time that men were a- 
roused to a sense of their, perilous condi- 
tion. The ladies are rising in their majes- 
ty, holding convention after convention for 
the avowed object of wresting from us the 
last semblance of power and the few re- 
maining privileges which have heretofore 
been allowed us. Some have even gone 
so far as to arrogate to themselves the 
right to wear those timed honored gar- 
ments which have been the pride and glo- 
ry of our sex ever since Father Adam first 
looked down the two dark vistas of fig 
leaves. 

It is high time that we should put forth 
a declaration of our rights, and coneert 
measures for maintaining them. Tlie first 
right on which we shall ensist, is the right 
bo wear the pants. This right wc consid- 
er inalienable and for its maintainance we 
are ready to pledge our lives, our fortunes, 
and our sacred honor. Whatever else we 
may be willing to yield for the sake of 
peace we never, 7iever can yield this. 

Again, every man has the right to a 
good wife but in this, many of us, poor fel- 
lows, have been, and are still likely to be 
woefully defrauded of our just dues. Ma- 
ny a poor wight marries what he, in the 
simplicity of his heart believes to be a true 
woman but finds to his sorrow that he has 



world of trouble and vexation; and that is, 
that our wives should never ask us for any 
change unless it happens to be perfectly 
convenient for us to furnish it; and if we 
give them two or three dollars, out of 
which they are expected to supply all the 
family, and if in the course of a few weeks 
they venture to request a little more, we 
have the right to ask them what they have 
done with all that money. And when we 
go to settle our wives bills at the dry good 
stores, we have the right to find them not 
more than double what we expected. We 
have the right to protest against all white- 
washing — all tearing up of cai-pets and 
turning a man's house up side down for 
the purpose of cleaning up; and we have 
the right to scold if our protestatioas are 
disre'i-arded. When our wives insist upon 
purchasing a fifty dollar dress, or a hun- 
dred dollar shawl, .and when we have 
cleariy demonstrated to them that we 
cannot afford it, we have the right to ex- 
pect that they will refrain from presenting 
the unanswerable and irresistable argu- 
ments of tears. 

Finally, it is our right to demand that 
they should be discreet, sober, keepers at 
home, (at least on rainy days) cheerful, 
industrious, benevolent, intelligent, pious' 
and in short, since we are perfect oursel- 



CLEOPATRA'S NEEDLE. 
The following is a translation of the in- 
scription upon Cleopatra's Keedle: " The 

olorious hero the mighty warrior 

whose actions are great on the banner — 
the king of an obedient people— a man 
just and virtuous, beloved by the Almigh- 
ty Director of the universe— he who con- 
quered all his enemies — who created h p- 
piness throughout his dominions — who 
subdued his adversaries under his sandals. 
During his life he estabhshed meetings of 
wise and virtuous men, in order to intro- 
duce happiness and prosperity throughout 
his empire. His decendants, equal to him 
in glory and power, followed his example. 
He was, therefore, exalted by the Al- 
mighty-seeing Director of the worid. — 
He was the lord of the Upper and Lower 
Egypt. A man, most righteous and vir- 
tuous, beloved by the All-seeing Director 
of the world. Rhams^s, the third king, 
for his glorious actions here below, was 
seraid to immortality. 



■Liberality.— At the late meeting of 
the South Carolina Baptist Convenlion, it 
was announced thE.t$l 3,000 were lacking 
to complete the endowment of Fiirman 
University, whereupon twelve gentlemen 
immediately came forward and pledged 
each .$1000,th(3 remainder being immedi- 
ately assumed by the thirteenth. 

H. 



Kossuth-is evidently weak in heahh, be- 
ino- afi'eoted wifcli either debility or disease 
of the chest. He stated to a recent dep- 
utation, that he had organic di ense of the 
lungs, and that spitting of blood was, 
with him, a frequent ocourrcice. Hie 



a parlor ornament consisting mainly ves we have the right to look for p?rf<=c. streiogtii is ov 



isLed. 



Hi 



CLASSIC UNION. 



[For the Classic Union.] 
KELIGION" IN COLLEGES. 

Young men at College are peculiar ob- 
jects o" sympathy and solicitude. Away 
from liomc, isolated in a great measure 
from society, and among comparative 
strangers, they are exposed to many 
temptations, which, at their excitable age, 
are difficult to resist. 

They have a reputation srd generis, the 
•world over. In the minds of many good 



The vanity that <7f<«, is pretty certain to 
show them. Street loafing, and lounging 
around book and other stores, is the im- 
mediate result. Thus dress induces idle- 
ness, which is only another name for vice- 
Memory, not fancy, pictures a youth of 
high hopes and determined will, on the" 
eve of departing for College, receiving 
th-e blessing of his father, and the last, 
sweetest token of affection from a mother. 
Solitary traveling gives ample scope for 



persons, there is a kind of undefined ter- reflection. Grieved at leaving. home and 
ror, a sort of ghostly reverence, inscpara- weeping friends, though too proud to weep 
bly connected with them. Their position ! himself, he firmly resolves that he will 
constitutes them a distinct order with a ^gt prove unworthy of their affection and 



Btrongiy marked individuality. 

Every one knows a College boy at sight. 
There is something peculiar in his walk. 



confidence. 

Wearied with a journey of some hun- 
dred miles, and sad in spirit, he ix'aches 



his look, and his whole bearing, difficult ^ j^jg destination. Warm hearts and willing 
to describe, but easily recognized by every j^^^^^g welcome him. The term has com- 
one. That they always act prudently and | fenced, and with it a struggle for intel- 
wisely is not pretended. This would be ' jgotual superiority, an enthusiasm, frank- 
demanding more of inexperienced youth' ^^^^^ ^^^ attachment to friends, worthy of 
thin age and experience are equal to. | all imitation. His study hours are well 

Still, notwithstanding their notoriety, ' provided for. The walks of learning and 
they have many noble traits of character, science breathe such a pure, bracing, 
With true Highland fidehty, they cling to ^gj^^jj^y atmosphere, that we feel assured 
each other with a tenacity often unknown Lf iijg safety here. Bat are his leisure 
in after life. hours as well guarded? Are his com- 

"Honor," frequently false and mistaken ' panions, his books, his friends, what they 
to be sure, is a word of as magical import s'joald be ? Is he prepared for the hour 
among students as among the Knights ' ^5 temptation ? Is he prepared for the 
Errant of chivalry. When friends, ihey ' contest with evil ? ■ Is there ballast in the 
are generally true to the Id&t, not fil'vays ' j^^j^ and wisdom at the helm in this stoim 
in the most exalted sense of the term, but ^^ jj^g passions? 

in quite as high a one as is usually acted | "Would it be strange, if amidst so mucb 
upon in the world. Liberal, generous, i excitement and all absorbing occupation, 
r-equently of the best families, they throw, j^g gl^^^^j^j ft j.is ji,.gt resolve, his 



their whole soul wilh perfect ahandon 
into every enterprise, whether of good or 
of evil. 

Nor would we diminish these feelings. 
They give tone and elevation to their daily 
intercourse, and difuse a warmth and 



fiiends, his teachers, his duty ? What 
teacher has not witnessed with painful 
anxiety the progress of such a young- 
man ? And this young man is, perhaps, 
kind reader, your son ! 

A desire to have a fair name among 



cordiality that well forth from their depths ^ ^^^ ^ii]_ ^o doubt, restrain many; a pru- 
dent friend, ambition, pride, the example, 
advice, and influence of teachers may 
£ ave others; but will tliey save all ? Are 
Cj'deges guiiless of the price of blood ? 
Would to God they were ! 

What, then, is to be done ? Shall we 
do evil that good may result, or shall we 
cease to rear and sustain Colleges ? Shall 
the n any noble edifices in our countrj', 
built at the expense of so much toil and 
treasure, be abandoned ? For the same 
reason should we abandon traveling by 
lailrualand steamboat, for here thousands 
are yearly cutoff in tha prime of life. — 
The printing press has poured forth its 
streams of moral death; law has shielded 
t .0 rich villain and defrauded the poor; 



many of the sweetest pleasures of life 
and these days of youth will never return! 
Let them be enjoyed, then, to the utmost 
ex!.ent consistent wiili safely. Their 
abuse is, however, the fountain-head of 
most, if not all. College difficulties. 

While some bring bad habits with them, 
concealed, it is true, but none the less 
datfjerous, others come as innocent an I 
gu''eless as a child, ready to fall into the 
snare. Nor are there wanting other 
s-iurcesof d:mger. It is the interest of 
m rchKnts to sell fine clothes. Dress d/- 
wcrts attention from study; for what is the 
■■u<eof having fine clothes unlus they can 
be seen ? and how can they be seen if the 
wartr stays in bii room and studies? 



rehgion itself has been a "savor of death 
unto death." Shall we, therefore, lay 
them aside ? 

Many think that by keeping their sons 
at home, out of the rech of vice, they can 
be raised up free from contamination. — 
Such, indeed, might be the case. But it 
is well known, that when brought in con- 
tact with vice, as they necessarily must 
be in subsequent life, they fall sooner and 
more irretrievable than any others. 

This world is our place" of probation; 
we are on trial, and if we bear tlie cross 
we may expect the crown. Gold is valua- 
ble only when tested; virtue or courage, 
merit, talent, genius, every thing, to be 
valuable must be tried. To avoid con- 
sumption we must exercise much in the 
open air, although we know a sudden ex- 
posure to this same element has been the 
death of thousands. A hot house plant 
will live only in a hot house; in the free 
mountain air it would perish. Such is the 
will of the Allwise C.eator, it undoubted- 
ly is all for the best. 

The day has passed when ignorance 
was omnipotent. Young men will be 
educated. The country, the age, religion 
demand it, and the only-problem to be 
solved is, how it may he accom/jlished in the 
best manner, and with the least risk. 

Colleges unquestionably afford the 
greatest facilities, and if the danger can 
be removed, our object is attained. This, 
we think, can he done. Something is 
wrong somewhere; if it can be ascertained 
and remedied, every lover of religion and 
his country would rejoice in an increased 
assurance of the safety of the morals of 
young men and the success of Colleges. 
Who, then, are to blame? We answer: 

1. The Faculty. They should feel that, 
for the time, they stand in the stead of 
parents, and should, therefore, kindly but 
firmly discharge every obligation restiog 
on them, to furni.->h moral as well as intel- 
lectual instruction. It is not in human 
nature to disregard and dislike, for any 
length of time, what is known and felt to 
be right in itself, kindly intended, and un- 
flinchingly insisted on. 

2. Students. Is it strange that out of 
the hundreds who come up from different 
parts of the country, and from various 
classes of society, some should have the 
leprosy of vice ? That the amount of 
vice is greatly exaggerated, there is no 
doubt; that there is some, admits as little. 
The Faculty cannot be too cautions in ad- 
mitting new students, for a little leaven of 
evil here exerts an influence over a wide 
territory. Insinuating manners, a pol- 



CLASSIC UNION. 



n^ 



ished cxberi'Sr, and even exalted talents, in American deprived of life or limb, your 



C-olleges, as elsewhere, often conceal a 
son of perdition. By these adepts, their 
victim 16 lead on gently but steadily. A 
"little fun," a "bit of bye-word," "a 
game of amusement," a "temperance 
drink," have frequently led the unwary 
youth from the path of duty. 



blood would boil wiJi indignaticn, and 
you would march hundreds of miles to 
avenge the insult, but here is one of your 
countrymen wronged, defrauded, per- 
chance, of more than life, and yet — "it's 
none of your business !" 

This poisoning the social fountain at its 



Happily for society and the caiise of scarce cannot be done with impunity 



learning, such Catalines are of rare occur- 
rence; but should such a One appear, im- 
mediate banishment is the only alterna- 
tive. 

The only safe rule for a student, is to do 
nothing he is not willing for his teachers, 
his parents, and the world to know and 
See; and especially to avoid not only what 
is wrong in itself, but that, also, which has 
any tendency to evil. 

3. Parcnis. Have your ohlldren been 
raised properly ? If so, thel-e is little or 
iio danger, for the Wise Man says, "train 
up a child in the way he should go, and 
■when he is old, he loill not depart from 
it." Has your son been wholly uncon- 
trolled at home ? He is now impatient of 
restraint. Have you given him money, 
and expected that an inexperienced youth 
would spend it wisely ? Have 3-ou brought 
him up in luxury-, and hoped he would 
shun its temptations? When encouraging 
your children to study and learn, when 
sending them from under your eye, to the 
care of strangers, did you tell them, 
among all their "gettings,." "to get wis- 
dom ?" 7?r«/ to "seek the pearl of great 
pi ice, and all these things should be added 



Were yOUr son among strangers, how 
thankful you would be for any little ad- 
vice, caution, or kindness ! Just change 
places, for a moment, with the parent 
whose son is with you, and we fear not the 
result. This is especially applicable to 
those who keep boarders. 

We saw a letter recently from a mother 
to a friend — a lady— who had reformed 
her son, as only woman can. Would that 
every cold, "none of my business" per- 
son, coul J see it 1 

Again: the Bible says, " speak no evil 
of tliy neighbor." If John Jones does 
wrong, must John Smith, because he has 
nothing else to do, go and tell it, (keep- 
ing carefully in the bounds of truth, of 
course '.) on all the streets rnd at all the 
taverns ? God says " speak no evil of thy 
neighbor,"' yet some consider it a sacred 
duty to do precisely the opposite. The 
wisdom of private advice and remon- 
strance is shown alike fey revalation and 
constant e.^perience. These are the locks 
that give power to the moral Sampson to 
pull down the pillars of the temple of 
vice. 

Having briefly considered some of the 



unto them ?^' In your letters to them, in I j.^ngers to which young men at College 
your conversations, in your never ceasing I ^vu exposed, and some of the sources of 
anxiety, is their happiness and salva'.ion ^ these dangers, the question comes up 
above all earthly considerations ? "What \vii]j great force, "liow shall thf.y be re- 
a man soweth, that shall he reap," and, ' moved ?' 



•rilas! "he that soweth the wind, shall reap 
the whirlwind!" 

4. Citizens. Nor are citizens generally 



We hesitate not td say that the anly ef- 
fectual remedy is religion. It is this alone 
will arouse a young man to the full appre- 



disinterested, nor should they be uncon- , gjatioji ^f iijs nioral capabilities and wor.h. 
cerned in the prosperity cf a, College in Reliii-ion alone -can consecrate learning 
their midst. Two hundredstiidents bring, Lnd make it truly valuable. Under its 
at the lowest calculation, from thirty to jjoiy influence the relation between toach- 
forty thousand dollars to be distributed ' ^^ and pupil becomes a pleasant and prof- 
annually in the community. Should the; ij^ble one; no unholy secrets that cannot 
number of students diminish, so will this hg told, no concealments, no subterfuges; 
source of wealth and intellectual Culture, ^yii^t is too bad to tell, religion always 
But the moral bearing of the subject is makes too bad to hear or know, and this 
of far greater weight. Your sons, and compromise \Yith Satan cannot biar the 
even your families are not unaffected by light of Sinai and Calvary, 
the character and conduct of students.— ] Even if young men are not professors 
One s ys, "it is very bad, but it is none of religion, its power may. be exerted and 
of my business." You are very much ^ felt. Livne service in chapel, diily fami- 
mistakcn, sir, as willle painfilly demon-' ly worship at home and in boarding houses, 
strated to you some day. Were our flag^ attending church, reading the Scriptures. 
insulted on the high seas, or a single Sabbath schools, and Bible classes, the 



example of pious associates and teachers, 
and finally the prayers ahd interest of pa- 
rents cannot fail to have a happy influence. 
Fully convinced of this fact, a number 
of Professors in Colleges in the Eastern, 
Southern, and Western States have regu- 
larly observed a day of prayer for Col- 
leges. Will not every parent join them ? 
Will not every lover of his country and 
his kind send up a petition in theii be- 
half? 

Could I call around me, in one vast as- 
semblage, the young men from every In- 
stitution in the land, I would say, first 
seek that knowledge which conieth from 
above, strive, _/?r4-i, to know Him "whom to 
know aright, is life eternal.' ' You are, or 
may be, the bride of the Lord of Heaven, 
and will you devote your ywuth, your beau- 
ty, and your freshness to another, and 
hope to please at Iflst; with your age and 
infirmities? " Th6 day has but one 
morning, the year but one spring, and 
life but one youth td plant flowers that 
bloom forever." 

In the distance, learning and science of- 
fer an invitation to their lofty height, 
cold and ungenial to the heart of youth, 
! yet lifting to the skies; while pleasure 
i comes and builds her bowers unbidden, in 
the enchanting vale below. Pau;^e 1 
I young man, before you enter. A parent's 
I agonizing heart is wrestling in your be- 
I half. Teachers, friends, posterity, are 
'anxiously beholding you. Angels are 
poising their wings to carry your decision 
to Heaven, and the ej'e of the Great God 
himself is fixed upon you — that eye from 
which you cannot hide — that eva which 
you must meet in that day for which all 
other days were made. 

In conclusion, it may not be amiss to 
remark, that we believed that it is wisely 
ordained that there should be difficulties 
and dangers in obtaining a good education 
as well as any other great and good ob- 
ject. It is not the battlefield so much as 
security and luxurious ease that ciisureij 
defeat. When up, and at our post,- the 
storm that would wreck but wafts us into 
port. 

A^ain, we say, let it come. It but lifts 
the ship of knowledge from its moorings 
to earth, and speeds it on its way. Hov7 
beautiful as it fades away in the distance 1 
May it safely reach haven, laden, as it is. 
with the best interests of our common 
country. DELTA. 



jC^ Southey said to a low spiri ed 
friend, "Translate Tristram Shandy into 
Hebitw, and you will be a happy man." 



Iltf 



CLASSIC UNION. 



[For the Classic Union.] 
■WHAT SEEN", WHaT UNSEEN. 

" Find tongues in trees, books in the babbling 
brooks. 

Sermons in stones and good in eveiy thing." 

" Why do you say I am strange, uncle 
Sampson ?" " Well, really, because you 
talk about such curious things as tongues 
in trees. I know very well that trees 
bave hmbs and leaves, but do tell me 
which part of them you call their tongues?" 
"Why, uncl« Sampson, you know we fre- 
quently designate things from the offices 
they perform and not from any actual re- 
semblance to other objects of the same 
name. Now, the office of the tongue, is, 
to tell tbings, is it not ? — tben, with much 
propriety, we may say there are tongues 
kt trees, since tbeir early budding on the 
approach of Spring, speaks of nev^ness of 
life, of youthlul Lope and joy ^ the bloom 
and print of summer, tell of the satisfied 
pleasure and plenty of meridian life; their 
faded and frosted leaves in autumn, show 
the changes that old age and failing health 
must bring; and their bare and bleak 
limbs in winter, remind us forcibly of the 
nakedness of the soul, when stripped of 
its earthly clothing and launched into eter- 
nity. Trees tell of creative wisdom and 
providence in furnishing our world, with 
what is so well adapted to our comfort, 
and so truly cclculated to increase our en- 
joyment. What stories of their curious 
construction, their habits and uses, do 
trees pour into the enraptured ear of the 
philosopher and botanist !" Why, some 
naturalists are so enthusiastic, they would 
prefer conversing with a tree, to holding a 
long confab with the finest city gentle- 
man 1" 

"And, what can you make of your 
boots in babbling brooks ? Surely the 
water of the brook would wash out all 
your printing." — " Ah, no, here we have 
a wide range, since books are of so diver- 
sified a character. For instance, we can 
read from tbeir watery pages, a scientific 
treatise on the nature of that element, and 
the laws by which it is governed; we can 
peruse volumes on the natural history of 
its inhabitants, whether visible or unseen; 
and enjoy a moral essay on the benefits 
this refreshing and fertilizing stream be- 
stows on man and beast. Then loosing 
the reins of imagination, we can witness 
the scenes that have occurred on its mar- 
gin, for ages past; while poetry and song 
must rival each other in its pastoral and 
sylvan praises. What do we not read in 
the little streamlet as we lift our i,houghts 
to loftier themes, and recognize in it, the 
embkm of the streams of rclVetlimcnt and 



happiness ever pure and delightful, which 
flow fast by the celestial city." 

"ISTowthat yoTt are seruionizing, you 
can tell me v/hat ,the stones say ?" — 
" Y/hy, uncle Sampson, I- thought by this 
time you could say yourself, that rocks 
are the firm pillars of the earth and speak 
aloud of its wondrous structure and 
thence of that Hand Divine which fash- 
ioned its frame and gave it, its existence ! 
and, that they are His symbols of that 
very Divinity, whose durability and dura- 
tion are represented. as the Rock of Ages; 
whose unfailing mercy, as the Rock ofj 
Salvation, and whose defence for his fol- 
lowers, as the munition of Rocks. Who 
can look oh a pebble and not think of the 
successful valor of the faithful champion 
of truth, against the infidel Philistine ? 
Who can touch against a stone and not 
fear to become a cause of stumbling or a 
rock of offence ? Who can gaze on bro- 
ken masses of earth's strongest fabric 
without being admonished of the potency 
of that evil, which caused the spotless 
One to give himself to death, and whose 
expiring groans made nature to rebel and 
rocks to burst asunder ?" 

" Verily, verily," said imcle Sampson, 
" there must be good in every thing, for 
if pebbles and stones can preach, surely 
the clods of the valley, will not keep si- 
lence." GENIA. 

A zealous minister, once harangued his 
attentive audience on the cause of mis. 
sions, until his own soul was really en- 
flamed with his theme. At the conclusion 
of his sermon, looking down at two de- 
vout old deacons, who had been listening 
with great earnestness, he said, "the 
heathens (instead of the deacons) will 
please take up a collection for this cause." 
You would have laughed, had you seen 
uncle Joshua rising with his hat in hand 
and scratching his head as if to say, "1 
wonder what I've done that he thinks me a 
heathen ? 

Anecdote of Daoueiiee. — M. Dumas, a short 
time since, related the following interesting an- 
ecdote of Daguerre; — 

" In 1825, he ■S'as lecturing in the Soiirbonne, 
on chemistry. At the close of his lecture, a lady 
came up to him, and said — ' Monsieur Dumas, as 
a man of science, 1 have a Ciuestion of no small 
moment to mo to ask you. 1 am the wife of Da- 
guerre, the painter. For sonictiuie he has let tlie 
idea seize upon liim that he can fix images of the 
cameia — do you think it possible V He is ahvay.^ 
at the thoHghl; lie can't sleep at night for it;' 1 
am afi aid lie is out of his mind. Do you, as a 
man of bcici)c!--,lhink it can ever bi done, or ii- 
lie mad V ' In ihe present state of knowledge,' 
said Dumas, ' it cannot be done; but I ciinnot say 
it wiilahvays remain iiupo.-sible, uui' ^ul the nia'n 
down as mad who 'e:ic- lu i!u i; ' This was 
twelve years before Dagncrif W(i:i;cd his idea 
out, anil fixed the iiij ages; bin many a man, kv 
lianntedbya pot-sibiliiy, has btcu lormented in- 
to a mad-house." 



[Form the Rutherford Telegraph.] 

THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH,, 
£NJOINE]> IS THE DECALOGUE. 



In the last essay it was shown, that the 
Sabbath was appointed, when God finish- 
ed the work of creation, and that it Was 
designed to be a memorial of that work;, 
conseq.uently, that it was intended to^be 
of 2}e'yehial obligation. 

But thrs.is nQt the only evidence in fa- 
vor of the perpetual obligation of that 
Institution. The same truth^may be satis- 
factorily ascertained from the manner in 
which this precept was given, and from 
the place that Godassigsedit in the D'eca- 
logue, or ten commandmeiiis. The Deca- 
logue is a summary, or hrief, of the mor- 
al law. But these commandments were 
distinguished in a very peciiliar manner 
from the numerous precepts, that were in- 
tended to regulate the typical service of 
the Old Testament dispensation. The 
Mosaic ritual was confessedly temporary, 
because it was merely typical of gospel 
times. Hence the precepts, connected 
with that ritual, are said to be "a shadow 
of things to come; but the body is of 
Christ." 

This, however, is not the character of 
the Decalogue, the sum and substance of 
which, according to the exposition of an 
infallible Teacher, is this — "Thou shalt 
love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, 
soul, strength, and mind; and thy neigh- 
bor as thyself." Is there any thing sha- 
dowy or evanescent in this ? How long- 
will man be under obligation to love God 
supremely, and his fellow man impartially? 
for, as long as this obhgation lasts, the 
spirit, if not the precise form, of the Deca- 
logue must endure. But surely that will 
be, while God himself shall live, and im- 
mortality endure. 

When God was about to give the pre- 
cepts, tiat were intended to control the 
rites and ceremonies of the Old Testa- 
ment dispensation, he- called Moses to the' 
top of Mount Sinai, and made them 
known to him, commanding, that, after 
the crossing of the Jordan, they should 
be written on plastered stones. See Deut. 
5: 24-31, and 27: 1-3. 

But the Decalogue was given under 
circumstances of imposing grandeur and 
awful sublimity. Two days were spent 
in making preparations for the solemn 
event. On the- morning of the third day 
"there were thunders and lightnings and a 
ihick cloud upon the Mount, and the voice 
if the trumpet exceeding loud; so that 
, .til the people that was in the camp trem- 



CLASSIC UK I OK. 



117 



^leJ. And Mount Sinai was altogether 
'on a smoke, because tiie Lord descended 
upon it in fire: and the smoke thereof as- 
cended as the smoke, of a furnance, and 
the -whole Mount r^uaked greatly. And 
■when the voice of the trumpet sounded 
long, and waxed louder and louder," God 
himself spake in the hearing of ;ijl Israel 
the words of the ten commandments. — 
Exo. 15: 16-19, and 20: 1-17.— Deut. 
5'. 4-22. 

But the words of the Decalogue were not 
only published in this impressive manner; 
but they were also written twice with th« 
finger of God on tablets of stone. Why 
this remarkable difference in the giving of 
ihe Decalogue, and the Mosaic ritual. — 
^all God himself descend, and with his 
own voice utter every word of the Deca- 
lo"'ue amid the thunders and hghtniugs of 
quaking Sinai ? and yet is there nothing 
in these soleBin words of deeper import, 
and of more lasting obligation, than in 
the precepts of the typical service of that 
dispensation, which were made known to 
tSie people by the mouth of Moses? Were 
the ten commandments written twice with 
the finger of God on tablet of stone ? and 
yet is the obligation to observe them to 
pass away with the shadow}' ritu;il, which 
was written with the hand of man on 
yielding plaster ?! 0, it is impossible ! — 
The ways of God are more equal than 
this, and more strikingly marked with at- 
tributes of wisdom. 

Shall it be said, that a part of the Dec- 
alo'fue is still in force, and will be, while 
the world shall stand; but that the pre- 
cept to remember the Sabbatn-day does 
net belong to that part ? But was it not 
published, and written as the other pre-- 
cepts of the Decalogue were ? Is this 
consistent with the supposition, that the 
4tli commandment is of transient obliga- 
tion, while the obligation of the others is 
permanent ? Is it safe for man in tliis 
arbitrary and capricious manner to sepa- 
rate what God has so solemnlj' joined to- 
gether ? Will any man of an enlightened 
.conscience alledge that there is nothing in 
the institution of the Sabbath, that en- 
titles it to a place in the moral law ? Has 
not God judged differently, as appears 
from the fact, that he has given it a place 
in the moral code ? Is it not a dictate 
of conscience and of common sense, that 
the creature should worship the Creator ? 
But how long would tlwj worship of the 
Creator be kept up in tlr.s God-forgetting 
world, without the weekly Sabbath?— 
Blot out the sun of the Sabbath from the 
cxoral heavens, and a darkness, more 



dreadful than that, which encurtained 
Egypt would soon settle down on the hu- 
man mind, and the reign of idolatry and 
of Atheism would ensue. What is the 
state .of morals in professedly christian 
lands, where the Sabbath is disregarded 
and desecrated? 

In what respects are they distinguished 
from pagan lands, except in the names and 
character of their idols? It may be fear- 
lessly affirmed, that the most conscientiouie 
and God-fearing communities and nations 
under heaven are those, that most scrupu- 
lously observe the Sabbath. They may 
be flippantly sty\ed pwiianical and weak- 
minded, and behind the spirit of this age 
of progress. .But in God's account they 
may be accounted "the salt of the earth 
and tiie lig-ht of the world." 

Was not the Sabbath necessary for man, 
and was it not appointed for his benefit? — 
Surely God was not in need of the Sab- 
bath on his own account. But in the 
judgment of unerring wisdom this sacred 
institution was ncediul forman. Hasthat 
necessity ceased ? Has God become less 
worthy of worship? Or does man stand 
in less need of his favor and protection 
now, than formerly? Or has man become 
so couscientious aad devotional, that he is 
disposed to regard and spend every day 
as a Sabbath, and no longer stand in need 
of a weeldij Sabbath? None of these sup- 
positions can be true. It must follow, 
then, either that the law of the Sabbath is 
still in force, or that God is less mindful of 
man's welfare now, than he formerly was.. 
But surely no man can be at a loss to see 
which of these inferences is the most hon- 
oring to God. 

It has been suggested, that if God had 
intended the lav,' of the Sabbath to be ob- 
ligatory under the Gospel dispensation, 
something specific would have been au- 
' thoritalively uttered by Christ, or his ap- 
' ostles. But, as tli-e commandment to re.- 
I me'mber the Sabbath-day is not repeated 
in the I^ew Tastament, it has ceased to be. 
oblio-atory. In answer to this it may be 
1 asked. Do laws cease to be binding, unless 
j they are repeated from time to time ?^ 
Are the Old and New Testament dispen- 
I sations so unlike in their moral tone and 
' spmt, that no precept of the former is 
binding, if it is not specified in the latter? 
Is not the object of worship the same, 
and is not the spirit of devotion the same ? 
If a statute or law is intended to be repeal- 
ed, is it not common to mention it with 
that express intent? But is the Sabbath 
so mentioned in the New Testament ? 



It is worthy of remark, that when the 
young man came to Jesus with the ques- 
ion, " Good Master, what good thing 
shall I do, that I may have eternal hfe ?" 
Jesus answered, "If thou wilt enter into 
life, keep the commandments." •"Ho 
aith unto him, which." 

Christ in Veplying to this question re- 
peated all the precepts of the 2nd table of 
the Decalogue, except the last. Will any 
person infer from this, that Christ intend- 
ed hereby to abrogate the last precept of 
tlie 2ud table, and all the precepts of the 
first table? If so, covetuousness has 
ceased to be a sin, and God has no longer 
any claims on man's adoration. But is it 
true, that the Gospel has by one stroke 
swept away the 1st table of the law? — 
And did Jesus actually come "to be the 
minister of sin ?" And was Paul mistakes 
in the answer he gave to the question, 
" Do we make void the law through faith?" 
when he said, " God forbid ! jea we eS' 
tahUsh the law." 

Now, every reader of the Bible knows, 
that the first table of the law, which points 
out our duty to God, contains four precepts. 

But Christ, in answering the questioa 
of the young man, neither repeated, nor 
referred directly to either of these pre- 
cepts. And yet no intelligent man would 
pretend to infer frcm this, that idolatry 
and profanity have ceased to be siafa'l. — 
Why then should he infer, that Sabbath- 
breaking has ceased to be sinful ? But it 
has ceased to he sinful, if the HaW'Of fhe 
Sabbath is no longer binding. But the 
law of the Sabbath is still binding, for it is 
one of the precepts of the Decalogue. 
W. E. 



The Passion Flower. — The following 
interpretation of this justly celebrated and 
much admired flower will not be found un- 
.ntercsting, especially to the fair devotees 
of Flora. The leaves resemble the spear 
that pierced our Saviour's side; the tendrils 

the cords that bonnd his hands, or th« 

whips that scourged him; the ten petals — 
the apostles, Judas having betrayed, and 
Peter deserted; the pillars in the centr* — 
the cross or tree; the stamina — the ham- 
mer; the styles— the nails; the inner .cir 
cle around the centre pillar—the crown 
of thornes; the radiance—the glory; the 
white in the flower—the emblem of purityi 
and the blue, the type of heaven . On one 
species, the pasiflora altra, even drops of 
blood are- seen upon the cross or tree.— 
Thisfowjr continuL's three days open; and 
then d'sappcars, thus denoting the rosnr^ 
vcc'.-on. — ync Haven H.rahL 



a IS 



CLASSIC UK ION. 



MRS. MARGARET TODD, 
The following article from our corres- 
pondent was wiitten in reference to Mrs. 
Mar jabbt Todd, who died in this place on 
the 17th Dec. Mrs. T. was long a member 
of the Baptist Church in this city, and 
from her unfeigned humility and unaffec- 
ted piety was esteemed an ornament to the 
christian religion, H. 

[For the Classic ITuion.] 
TUB DYING MOTHER. 
Not many days since, it was ray privi- 
lege to witness a scene which very forcibly 
illustrated the words of the Poet-— 

"The chamber where the good man taeets his 

fate, 
Is pi'ivileged beyond the common wallcs 
Of virtuous life, quite on the verge of Heaven." 

It was at the bed-side o' a lady who 
had readied the last e.f tremity of bodily 
weakness and suffering, and who knew 
that in a very few days she must be borne 
from her present home, and laid in the 
cold and silent grave. She was about to 
be separated from an affectionate husband 
who was tenderly attached to her, and to 
leave motherless her young and helpless 
children, whom she loved with that in- 
tensity of affection which none but a moth- 
er's heart can feel. But was slie sad acd 
dejected ? Or did she speak of the se- 
vere struggles it had cost her to be, in 
any de.gree submissive to the will of her 
Heavenly Father ? No ! But she spoke 
ifi joy, joy liiexpressible; and not only did 
she speak of it, but by the radiant expres- 
sion of her countenance showed plainly 
t© #very beholder, that it was actually 
there. I have seen the smile of youth 
and beauty, ,when the biightest hopes and 
most lively a,nticipHtions were presented 
to an ardent imagination — I have gazed 
:upon the juy-lit features oi" happy child- 
hood, when the highest summit pf gratifi- 
cation had b^en attained,r— 1 have m^'rked 
the deep thrill of heart-felt joys depicteJ 
.in tlie countenanee, whep beloved friends ■ 
meet, after long years of separation., hut ' 
:iiev*!r before did I see a face so biighf, so 
radjant with happiness as hers. 

And what could have imparted such 
joy undir such ciiciiinstances ? 

Whit mother, who looks around upon 
lier little group, so njuch needing her 
oare and tenderness, does not feel that 
the pjiin of .s^eparation from the objects of 
her fondest atfectiou, added to the suffer- 
ings of a body on the very brink of disso- 
lution, would be .8,0 great that human na- 
nature, unassisted, could scarcely attain ' 
ty the virtue of patient resignation?---' 
Then why do.es thjs mother speak of ac- ' 
W.;U enjo^, ment ? Why does she say that ' 



language cannot express the delight which 
fills her soul at this solemn hour? Why 
that angelic smile, that smile of superhu- 
man brilliancy ? Say not it is the dream 
of enthusiasm or the delusion of hope ! — 
Such dreams never visit the deatli-beds 
of the ungodly. It is the triumph of 
Faith. It is that victory, over death asd 
the grave, which Christ has promised to 
his faithful followers. She had led a life 
of consistent and devoted purity, and 
when the hour of death drew near, she 
proved the faithfulness of Him who has 
said He will never leave nor fo)-sake those 
who put their trust in Him. She could 
say, "though I walk through th.e valley 
of the shadow of death, I will fear no 
evil, for thy rod and thy staff they comfort 
me. I; was indeed a piivilege lo see one 
so ripe for Heaven, and so near Eternity 
that its glorious light was already reflect- 
ed from her joy-b,eaming countenance. — 
None could look upon her without feeling 
something of the value of the Christian'.s 
hope. 

Worthless indeed do the riches, the 
honors, and the pleasures of earth appear 
when compared with a hope that can sus- 
tain the soul, and impart such consolation 
in th.e hour of its greatest need. Let me 
be poor and friendless and afflicted in this 
worid, if such be the will of my Heavenly 
Father, but Oh ,! Jet me die the death of 
the righteous, and let my last end be like 
li's. Mrs, E. M. E. 



LETTER FROM DR. BURTON. 

The following letter from Dr. Burton to 
his mother, written on the eve of his de- 
parture for his Missionary station in China, 
though not intended for publication, will, 
we doubt not, be read with deep interest, 
not only by his personal friends but by all 
who are interested in the Missionary 
cause. 

New York, Nov. 1 6th 1851. 

MtJ Dear Mother: — Yoiir very welcone 
letter of the 7th iust. was I'cceived yes- 
terday. Your letters are always gladly 
and thankfully received, but this one was 
particularly so, as I was o;-.ly a short 
time .before calculating the chances of 
hearing again from you before I embarked 
and I greatly feared that I woald be ob- 
liged to leave without this gratificalion. — 
Now, dear Ivlother^ do I feel that I can 
go forth with a firm rclianee upon our 
dear Saviour. He has been kind in res- 
toring to health those loved .ones in the 
District whose illness you mentior.eJ in 
your previous letter and allowed me tore- 
main here till I w:.§ iaformed of thi--, 



thus removing one cause of • anxiety, I 
am glad to learn that you are all enjoying 
good health. **-■** 

I believe I wrote you that the Captain's 
wife would go out with us. I have seen 
her once. She seems to be quite a pleas- 
ant lady and so far as we have been ena- 
bled to judge. We think she will be an 
agreeable companion for sister Crawford- 
Brother Taylor came on here on Wednes- 
day to see us off, and to see that our wants 
were all supplied. We expected to go on 
board yesterday but we have been allowed 
to spend another Sabbath in our own na- 
tive land and to go up to tlie house of God 
and join in praises and supplication to 
Him who is worthy to receive the homage 
of all. Now that we are about to be de- 
prived of this privilege for a season, we 
appreciate it much more highly than ever 
before. We expect to embark to-morrow 
at 10 o'clock. We have a long voyage be- 
fore us and one that hath its dangers. — 
But He that tempereth the wind to the 
shorn lamb will be with us. He rnleth 
the mighty waters. -and I shall not fear. — 
It is written,- "Fear thou not for I am 
with thee. Be not dismayed for I am thy 
God, I will strengthen thee, yea I will 
help thee, I will uphold thee by the right 
hand of my righteousness." Again, 
" Fear not therefore ye are of more valus; 
than many sparrows." Relying upon 
His many precious promises I go forth 
with the full assurance that I shall be sus- 
tained in the trials which may await me. 

Oh pray that I may have that faith 
which enableth one lo lay hold of the 
promises continually. It may be several 
months before I shall have another oppor- 
tunity of writing. , 
' Do not become uneas}'. I will have a 
Father and an elder brother with me rmto 
whom I may look with confidence at all 
times and under all circumstances, and 
even should it be his pleasure to take me 
hence I feel that my hopes are well founds 
ed. The Lord is my helper, I shall not 
want. It is late, my candle is almost out, 
I am therefore forced to close. Give a 
great deal of love to each and all of my 
dear brothers and sisters. Urge them to 
live near our Saviour. L feel a hei.vy 
burden of guilt resting upon me fo.- not 
having more frequently wained them to 
flee the wrath to come and seek the pearl 
of great price. But I earnestly pray that 
though I may have been a hinderance or 
stumbling stone, they may yet see the er^ 
ror of their ways and flee o the rock of 
pges. Kiss each for me and say kind 
words to all the servanlsand now good bye, 



CLSSIC UNION. 



119 



my dear Mother. May tLe richest bless- 
ings of Heaven ever rest upon you is the 
prayer of your devoted son. 

G. W. BURTON. 

P. S. MoNDAy MORN'ING. 

Dear Mother — We have a bright morff- 
ing for sailing. We are on board the ship 
and already we hear the song of the sail- 
ors weighing anchor. We leave cheerful- 
ly. I feel that the struggle is over long 
since. Friends stand around to bid us 
adieu. Fear not, dear Mother, for your 
son. The Lord is omnipotent and I go 
under the full assurance that he will be 
with and protect me. Again farewell, 
dear Mother. Good bye to all. Pray for 
me. Our united prayers will accomplish 
much. May our Father in Heaven be with 
you and bless and protect you from all 
evil is the constant prayer of your devoted 
son. G. W. B. 



[For the Classic ITnion.] 
THE LIVING FOUNTAIN. 

They have hewed out cisterns, broken cis- 
terns, that can hold no water." — Jer. ii: 13. 

0, come to this fountain. 
Thou wearied one. 
The sweet, soothing droughts. 
Of this fountain alone. 
Can still the wild fever 
Unvest oLthy heart. 
Can bid all its yearning 
Disquiet depart! 



[For the Classic Union.] 
Mrs. E. M. 'K.—Mij Dear Lady:— 
Will you, for the admiration wiih which 
she has followed your recent papers on 
the subject of Female Education, excuse 
the boldness of a stranger in addressing 
you on the same great topic? Perhaps 
it would appear in due course of your con- 
sideration of the prevailing Errors of 
our public systems of Female Instructions, 
without any foreign suggestion, but there 
is a matter which she considers as lying 
at the foundation of so much evil, that 
she is impatient you should proceed at 
once to its examination. It is an evil 
which presents an appearance so very spe- 
cious and plausible, that many of tlie 
wise, and also, of the, truly Christian top, 
I doubt not, have for long lent it their 
deliberate sanction. But it is, I dare to 
assert in behalf of all those just and true 
principles which it has unavoidably dis- 
placed, — an appliance of the most perni- 
cious tendency: I dare to lay my finger 
on that principle of AraUtious Emidalioi)^ 
which is fostered, and cherished and stim- 
ulated to its highest possible development 
in many, in almost all our systems of 
Public Education, as almost the only effi- 
cient means of inducing application and 
improvement — and denounce it as the ut- 
utter foe of all true elevation and refine- 
ment ! , 

This position I assume on the broad 
ground that it is wholly and irreconcilea- 
bly at variance with the Christian reli- 
gion. 

But I leave it in your abler hands, if 
y,ou thipk proper to honor this humble 
appeal, to iK/estigate and .to expose its 
cature and its evils.. 

Deferentially, jjic. A. 



Deeply th^'t 
rthlv 



st drunk. 
Of an cflrtTily bliss. 
But now 'tis tlie Marah 
Of a wilderness! 
Ne'er hast thou dreamed, 
Of a fountain -like this. 
Ne'er hast thou tasted, " - 

Such blesse'Jness ! 

- Come 0, thou stricken one, 
Come to thy rest, 
Lean-thy sad head. 
On thy Savior'o breast. 
Take thou the cup 
That thy Father gives, 
"Whoso drinketh, 
"Forever lives 1" 

. Thoy tell thee, 'tis bitter. 
Heed not their voice, 
Or bid them tell thee. 
In what to rejoice 1 
Heed Him whose truth. 
Hath been tested well. 
Gladness and peace. 
In its fulness dwell ! 

"0, my dove, 

"In the clefts of the rocks!" 
Thy wound, thy mourning. 
No stranger mocks — 
"Though thou hast lien 
"In dust obscure, 
"Thy wings shall be 
"As Oie silverpure!" 

Tho' thy plumes 
Are all defiled, 
Deep in the fount 
Of His mercy mild. 
Bathe and drink. 
And the blessed day. 
Thou shalt wash all thy stain 
And grief away ! 
Dec. 20, 1;'51. 



A. 



7. To suppose that making the sale of 
them respectable, will not encourage the 
use of them. 

3. To regret the growth of the upas, 
and keep watering the main root. 

9. To believe that we should not do evil 
that good may come, and license men to 
sell poison for the sake of having orderly 
(?) houses to drink it in. 

10. To think that drinking intoxicating 
liquors in orderly houses will not promote 
'ntemperance. 

11. To profess benevolence to our fel- 
low men, and vote for a chief cause of 
idleness, quarreling, poverty and misery 
among them. 

12. To pray for a blessing on our neigh- 
bors with our lips, and seek a curse with 
our voices. 

13. A goveiTimcnt instituted and sus- 
tained for the good of the people, licens- 
ing a trade that brings evil upon them. 



A CHAPTER OF ABSURDITIES, 

1. To desire to have men sober, and 
vote a license to make them drink. 

2. To mourn over drunkards, and vote 
a license to make more. 

3. To pity a drunkard's family, and I 
vote for the chief means of their misery. ] 

4. To expect to restrain men from evil 
by telling some of them they may do it. 

6. To think that authorizing a business 
will discourage it. 

6. To suppose that making the sale of 
intoxicating drinks legal will not make it 
respectable -ia. the estimation .of most peo- 
ple. 



GERilAN UNIVERSITIES. 
A correspondent of the Boston Traveler 
gives the following statistics of twenty- 
seven of the principal Universities in Ger- 
many, for the summer of 1851: 

Unlcersllles. 

1. EerHn, - - 

2. Munich, - 

3. Prague, - 

4. Bonn, - - 
-5. Leipsic, - 

\ 6. Breslaw, - 

7. Tiibingen, 

8. Gottingen, 

9. W^iirzburg, 

10. Halle, - - 

11. Hiidelburg, 

12. Gratz, - 

13. lena, - - 

14. Giepen, - 

15. Freiburg, 

16. Erlangen, 

17. Olmiitz, - 

18. Konigsberg, 

19. Miinster, - 

20. Marburg, - 

21. Imspruck, 
32. Griefswald, 

23. Ziiuch, - 

24. Berne, - 

25. Rostock, - 

26. Kiel, - - 

27. Basel, - - 05 - - - — 
Total amount of Students, 16,074 

". " Professors, 1,5G6 

Or an average of little over 10 students to 
each Professor. 

' The students arc pur^-uing the fullowing 
professions: 

In 26 Universities, PhUosophy, (Human- 
tie-',) 2449 



Students. 


Foreigners 


2199 - 


- - 313 


1817 - 


- - 196 


- 1204 - 


- - 31 


1026 - 


- - 189 


- 846 - 


- - 233 


- 831 - 


- - 19 


- 768 - 


- - 116 


- 691 - 


- - 322 


- 648 - 


- - 173 


646 - 


- - 86 


- 624 - 


• - 433 


- 611 - 


- - - 1 


- 634 - 


■- - 176 


- 409 - 


- - 77 


- 403 - 


. - - 83 


- 402 - 


- - hi 


- 396 - 


- . — 


- .332 - 


- - - 5 


- 323 - 


- - 47 


- 272 - 


- - 27 


- 2,57 - 


- - 2 


- 208 - 


- - - 9 


- 201 - 


- - 36 


- 184 - 


- - 11 


- 122 - 


- - 12 


- 119 - 


- - __ 



25 
2.5 
18 
11 



Medicine, - - 3164 

Law, ' - - - 6993 

Protest't Theology, 1 697 

Catliolic Theology, 1736 



A man w-ho is so far rn.x»nor.ed of hin>- 
se.lf as to neglect all others, is very apt to 
be left by others «iih the single object »f 
his regard. 



120 



CLASSIC FNION. 



We publish tlie following with pleasure, 
♦ogether with the accompanying note to 
tb« Editors, hoping to receive many such 
pieces from the fair contributor: 

Mbssrs. Editors: Will: you permit an 
unpretending girl to find space in some 
epare corner of your paper, for the inser- 
tion of some lines ■which she hopes the 
critic will pass by without censuring too 
severely. 

She put them on paper -because they 
lived in her heart; and now, with your 
permission, she publishes them, though 
she fears for the world to know her as- 
having any other name than that of 

Gexia. 

THE HOME OF POETRY. 
Where is the dwelling place of Poetry ? 
I once beheld her sitting silent near 
A mountain water-fall ; and, as its streams 
Did flow along, so sweetly singing, tliey 
Appeared to say — " 'Tis liere tlie lovely harp 
Of Poetry is never still, and here 
Her home is fixed. I asked the spirit fair 
If truly spoke the running brook. She smiled 
And said — ^" iJo, child ! not here's my dwelling 

place. 
I only sometimes rest beside the brook 
To lave my t.esses and cos-1 my brow.' 
While yet she spoke, she flew away, and I 
TVas sad and wept. My tears did fall into 
The stre.iiu, and wilh the murmuring waters 

flowed 
Adown the mountain side. 

One time I spied 
Her riding on the clouds. Her road, — It was 
The lightning's track. Her burning chariot 

wheels 
Did thunder o'er the pathway of the skies,. 
And shook the pillars of the earth. Slie rode 
So .swiftly that I could net speak to her. 
And asked not if the thunder's home was hers. 

Again I saw her walking on the stars. 
They seemed to pour their myriad gleams upo» 
Her brow. Her evening walk ' it §eeiiied ; and 

wlien 
'Twas done, she rode liport a stream of light 
To earth. I knelt and asked — was Heaven her 

home ? I 

She shook her head, and from her lips fell — 

'No.' 
And, pointing up, she said — 'Jly pleasure 

grounds. 
And not my home, is the bright world'aboye.' 

Then I was sad and wept, and, kneeling, said — 
'0 Spirit fair! tliy beauty fills the world. 
But wilt thou tell mc of lliy dwelling place? 
Where i.s the spot of light and love ■« hich tliou 
Call'st Home '! I've .seen thee blu.^hing on the 

rose. 
And heard tliee whispering in the breeze. I've 

known 
Thy presence in the song of birds, and felt 
Thy footstejis in the fall of leaves. I've seen 
Thee wandering with the young May moon along 
Her silvery tracks of light, and sleeping with 
The morning dew upon the smiling flower. 
But I am sad ; for I liave sought thy home 
Throughout the world and found it not. Oh! 

tell 
Me where Uiou dwcU'st, that I may worship at 
^\tj/ All am' 



She looked at me and smiled. Her lips 
Did part. She spoke. Her voice was sweeter 

than 
Aeolcan chords, and j'ct her eyes did speak 
More sweetly than her lips, as, kncejing at 
Her feet, and looking in her face, she said; — 
"Fair child of earth! Thy wanderings I have 

watched "^ 

To find my home. Into the o!(?cr_world 
Thoii hast been looking. But ahothci' world 
There is, enshrined in the heart of hearts. 
Of which the outer is an imago faint. 
The world within tJie heart — tha^s my home. 
'Tis there I.<lwell. My spirit vrer*es on 
Its chord's andt breathes sweets music, like the 

harp 
Which muriuurs back the tone another breathes."' 
She ceased. 1 seemed to heai;,still, her words 
So swcetlylell ujjon my ear. And then 
I turned my eyes within and wept for joy. 
And clapped my hands, and laughed, and said, 
"Thy Home, Goddess! I Save found — Ihe 

IIeaet." 



BEAUTIFUL EXTRACT. 
The following beautiful extract, says the 
Western Recorder, we copy from an Agri- 
cultural Address recently delivered be- 
fore the Lewis county (N. T.) Agricultu- 
ral Society, by Caleb-Lyon, the poet:^ 

"Permit me," said the speaker, " tocall 
your attention to a subject intimately con- 
BPCted witb the comfort of your own home. 
I would ask in what manner an acre of 
ground in the common course of cultiva- 
tion, can so well be employed as in a gar- 
den, or who deserves to hare life's path 
strewed with fruits and flowers more than 
the farmer? All our vegetables were o- 
riginally acclimated here, and Homer who 
composed his great poem, the Iliad, five 
hundred years before Cadmus brought let- 
ters into Greece; makes Latrtres describe, 
in glowing colours, the bright associations 
that are clustered about this truest cradle 
of agriculture. Here it was that Palto 
discussed. Eve sinned, and Jesus prayed. 
The Chinese liave floating gardens, the 
Persians hanging gardens, the Arabian 
fountain gardens; but ours Household 
! Gardens-'-and often life'^s happiest mo- 
fments may be in the memory of the flow- 
' ers plucked from thence to adorn a bridal, 
' or to grace a bier." 

* * Adam was a farmer while 
I yet in paradise, and after his fall wijs com- 
manded to earn his bread by the sweat 
of his brow. Job, the honest, upright and 
patient, was a farmer, arfd his stern edu- 
cation has passed into a proverb. Socra- 
tes was a farmer, and he wedded to his 
calling the glory of his immort:il philoso- 
' phy.. St, Luke was a fiirmeV, and divides 
j wiLli Promelhus the honor of subjecting 
the ox for the use of man. Cincinnatus 
I was a farmer, and the noblest Roman of 



them all, Burns was a farmer, and the 
muse found him at his plow and filled hid 
soul with poetry. Washington was a far- 
mer, and retired from the highest earthly 
station t# enjoy the quiet of rural life, and 
present to the world ifs sublimest specta- 
cle of human greatness. — To these names 
may be added a host of others who soughfc 
peace and repose in the cultivation of their 
mother earth. The enthusiastic Lafayette, 
the steadfast Pickering, the scholastic Jef- 
ferson, the fiery Randolph — all found an 
Eldorado of consolations from* life's cares 
asd troubles in the green fields and ver- 
dant lawns that siuTounded their home- 
steads." 

I OUGHT TO PRAT MORE. 

For one I am convinced that I do not 
pray enough. I feel this conviction daily. 
As a half-fed man is conscious that he 
needs more food, so my half-famished 
soul tells me that I need more prayer. I 
need it to give me strength, to quicken my 
affcctious, to vitalise my relations to the 
church, and spiritualise all my conversa- 
tion. 

I MUST PRAT MORE. I am in a world of 
sin; unholy influences are pressing me 
on every side. The spirit of tlie world 
assails me at every step; in all the do- 
mestic, social, and business relations of 
life, I meet it and feel it, and without 
more jn-at/er, I shall yield to it. Alas, I 
have yielded; am still yielding, and there 
is no alternative but more pruyer! I must 
pray more, or be swept down by the tide. 
Lord save, or I perish ! 

I WILL pRAr MOBE. A good rcsoIution ? 
May I have grace to keep it. How many 
such have been broken ! Let me, then, 
first of all, pray for grace to do what I 
see needs to be done. And let me remem- 
ber that it is pruyer that I need; commu- 
nion with God, intercourse with heaveu, 
fellowship with the Holy Spiiit. I need 
the penitence, humility, self-abasement, 
and self-renunciation which prayer alone 
can secure. I need the faith, and hope, 
and love which prayer alone can awaken. 

I will pray more, then, because it is my 
duty to do so. I am morally and spiritu- 
ally unfit to engage in God's service as I 
am. I have reason to fear that my offer- 
ings may be an abomination unto the 
Lord. But my obligation to serve God 
remains. I ought to do christian duty, 
and bring my gifts to the altar. And God 
is waiting to be gracious! willing to give 
his Spii'it to them that ask him. 

Then I ought, and must, KndM'///pray 
more for others, for my family, friends, 
the church, the world, and especially for 
my pastor! Alas,- how have I forgotten 
him of late. Lord, take not from me 
thine Holy Spirit ! Restore unto me the 
joys of thy salvation, and uphold me by 
I thy free Spirit. Then will 1 teach trans- 
gressors thy ways, and sinners shall be 
j converted unto thee. 0, teach me and 
: help me to pray. My fainting and in- 
I consistent heart turns to thee. O, 
; strengthen me with stren^'th in my soul 



CLASSIC UNION. 



121 



"Nisi dominiis, fiiistra." 



M. HILLSMAN, 

AXD THE FACULTY OF r>'ION UXIVEKSITV, 

Editors and Proprietors. 



THE DTITY OF PARENTS TO EDUCATE 
THE CHILDREN. 



avowed. That he may itnderstand what 

we mean, we propound the following in- 
terrogatories: If there are two Scriptural 
forms of ordination, how can one of these 
forms be moi-e Scriptural than another? 
■ TERMS. " Is "the hands of a dioces and bishop" the ] ^gpti^ig Jf endjess improvement. It needs 

Publislied Serai-monlhly at One Dollar per other Scriptural form? If this be an- I , .• • , to dpvflon its fsc- 

- Yeav, inmrwhlu in advance. -, . , ^ • i I an eQUCatlon m Oiaei toae\eiop us lEC 

^- _ =: swered in the affirmative, and we suppose j^j^^ ^^^ ^^,^ -^^^^ exercise its powers.— 

I 't ^""' ^'^^ '' is '™Pl''^'i i'l t^"^ ^^°''^ P^"- , If directed into the paths of virtue and 
^sag-e, then we would ask, where is the j ig^ming, it may prove a blessing to the 
' Scriptural proof for such a form ? 



Few parents, we fear, feel, as they 
should, the responsibility restig upon them 
in regard to the education of their chil- 
dren. Every child that is born into this 
world is possessed of a mind which is sus- 



JANUARY 1, 1 852. 



NASHVILLE POST OFFICE. 
There is a most shameful ncslect in the 



delivery of papers to country subscribers, 

at the Nashville Post Office. We hare/^^'^ ^■^■^''''^ U"'^'^ "" « ^"'"^ P^P^r.' 



world; but, if suffered to lie dormant and 

inactive, it will exert no influence for good 

on human society, and most probably will 

scatter abroad the seeds of evil wherever 

its influence may extend. 

The mind of youth instinctively thirsts 

for knowledge; and upon parents rests the 

responsibility of satisfying this desire. — 

WHAT OTHERS THtNK OF US. J Unless they do all in their power to secure 

~, J ,, . 1- [■ • f 1 this object, they prove themselves false 

The following notice ol our paper is irom j > j r 

„ , , . ,„., J ,. ^, to the best interest of their own children. 

the Presbyterian Witness, and irom tlie a- : 

bility with which that paper is conducted ! '^^' P^^'^^t ^^^° ^^^°'' "'S^'* ^"'i ^^^ *° 
and the capacity of the editors to judge of , ^°^'^ "P ^ ^^'-^""^ ^°' '"^ ''^'^'^ '^"'^ P^?^ 
the merits of a paper we feel assured that ! l'"le or no regard to the cultivation of his 



We have not noticed this subject for the 
purpose of controverting the position as- 
sumed by the editor of the South Western 
Baptist; but, regarding them as singular 
positions to be assumed by the editor of 
that paper, we are desirous the editor shall 
develope his views. H. 



mailed our paper regularly to that office 
to quite a number of subscribers who live 



mind, is robbing hiifl of that which alone 

rn ri TT ,„ -(Vn !,„„„ K„f.,,.Q ! can make him a man, and giving, in its 

The Classic Usion. — \V e nave betore ■ & c 

us Ko. 6 of this new paper, well filled and : place, that which will have the strongest 

well printed. It is published at Murfrees- 1 tendency to ruin his character and corrupt 

in the country, yet not one half in some boro', Ten., by Rev. M. Hillsman, and the i j^jg j^fjyg^ge in the world. Better edu- 

instances, and in others- none at all have Faculty of Union Univcrsily. The terms I ^^^^ ^ ^^.^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^.^ .'^^^ ^j^^ ^^,^^j^ 

been delivered to the subscribers, though ^'-e not mentioned. It we are ^^ '''^8^1"'^ 1 ■ ,,^ „„. „ j_n.. •_ j.:, ^_„w ^^^.^ .q 

,,' , „r , , this number a fair sample, we can say tru-wi"i not a aoiiar in nis pocket, man to 

often called for. We are assured that - - .,...,, ."^ . , •" i ■,. ,. ,i i • ^ ^i j_ _ i_-i- 

it is sheer neglect, or laziness on the part 

of the clerks of the office. Some of our 



ly that the Classic Union is a good paper, make him the heir of thoussnds, while 

his mind. is wrapped in the clouds of ignor- 



-The 



The School Girls Offering." ^..- , g^(^Q_ 
subscribers have told us that after being above is the title of a neatly printed and i ^^j g^,g,,j. ^^^^^^ j.^^,^ ^j^p^g j^ ^ ^^^^^^ 
told repeatedly that there were no papers, I ^eH fiHed sheet, published at Winchester, ^^^^ imposed upon him, which he cannot 
they have succeeded by urging some oth-, Tenn., edited by Mrs. Graves and Miss ] ^gg.]j.gt ,,,^^1^0^^ proving himself unworthy 



er clerk to examine, in getting their pa- ]yi^].y Allen. The paper is connected 
per after laying weeks in the office. Our -jvith the Female Institute of that place, 
city subscribers who have boxes in the and has for its contributors principally the 
post office get their papers regularly. — ' Girls of the school. The sixth number is 
Will not our subscribers call the attention' before us, in which the editor expresses 
of the Post Master to this neolect 



H. 



THE SOUTH WESTERN BAPTIST. 
Ths editor of this excellent paper, i 
an editorial on "A call to the Ministry, 
puts forth the following sentiments: 



to be a parent; — and that duty is to edu- 
cate his child. If its accomplishment re- 
quires the sacrifice of every luxury in life 
and constant and unwearied toil by day ' 
and by night, still the sacrifice must be 
made, the toil must be endured. If God 
has made you a parent he requires you to 
educate your child, and if you fail to do 

S. 



the fear that the paper must stop for the 

want of patronage. Two hundred and 

fifty subscribers are necessary to pay the 

expenses of publication and the _gTeater [ it he will not hold you guiltless 

part of that number are wanting. We 

wish the enterprise success, and hope the 

friends of the School, and of female edu- 

<'We believe that^ordination, by the laying on ■ cation generally will rally to its support 
of the hands ot the Presbyterv, is the most ^ ■' . . _i • 

Scriptural form ; yet we are tar from maintain- and perpetuate its existence, ihe price 
ing that it is the only form. If any prefer re-' jg ^^^ dollar per annum in advance. AVe 
ceivmg ordination from the hands ot a dioccs . . , , 

and bishop, we have no ol)jcetions to make.— will take pleasure in transmitting the sub- 



Our correspondent Mrs. E. M. E. will 
find in this number a pretty question pro- 
posed for investigation, by another of our 
fair correspondents. Miss A. We know 
not what view Mrs. E. M. E. will take of 
the subject, whether she will coincide with 
Miss A. or take adverse ground. If the 
latter, we suppose. Miss A. from the po- 
sition assumed, and the statement of the 
Rev. J. S. Reynolds, D. D., President I ground of its defence, will herself attempt 
this is not the of Georgetown College has been elected 1 to make it good. We feel interested in the 



All tliat we ask is that we be allowed the same gcription of any who may desire it. 
liberty that we are willing to concede to others. I r J J 

Now we have s.everal objections to the ! . • 

statements of the above paiagraph, and 

although the editor says 



place to dicuss the much agitated ques- to a Professorship in the South Carolina 
tion 'what is the most proper form of or- , College'. We presume he will not accept, 
diuation ?' " we would, nevertheless, ask H. 



subject, for if Miss A. is correct she has 
struck at an evil that lies at the foundation 
of the formation of character. H. 



122 



CLASSIC UNION. 



\ 



THE OLD YEAR. 



Anotlier volumne of time has been com- 
pleted and laid up in the archeives of e- 
ternity to be opened and read at the great 
day of final Judgment. Three hundred 
afld sixty five closely written pages; and 
what do they contain? They contain doubt- 
less many noble resolutions, "but is the re- 
cord of their fulfillment also recorded 
there? What page in this volume would 
you desire to blot oat were it in your pow- 
er to do so? But alas you cannot have this 
privilege. What is written must remain 
forever,. Even though the page contain 
;a dark catalogue of crime, there it must 
.•stand. The long cycle of weary ages 
•would not dim the characters upon that 
•page. When marble monuments have 
.crumbled into dust and the loftiest struc- 
-tures raised by. human ambition have 
.mouldered beneath the corrosion of time 
rand the earth itself with its granite moun- 
tains and everlasting hills have tottered to 
its fall, that record will be as bright as 
3egible as when the finger of the Almighty 
•first traced it there. And you must read 
its every page and every word of it. Did 
jou think of this while the days of '51 
were gliding over your heads and carrying 
their report to eternity? Though you may 
have been unconscious of the fact, yet this 
■unconsciousness of yours has not retarded 
the fining up of the volume. There you 
will find every promise broken or fulfilled, 
every profane expression, every impure 
thought, every unholy desire, every secret 
sin, and every violation of Divine law. 
ifow will you meet this record? Ask your- 
selyes solemnly how! 

And you professing Christians, what 
does your record contain? Does it spe.ak 
of growth in grace, of advancement in spi- 
ritual life; of more holiness of heart, of 
greater devotion tp tjie cause of Christ? 
What is there recorded of vour closets — 
have your visits to them been frequent and 
your prayers earnest and prevailing or have 
your visits there been irregular and un- 
frequent and your devotion heartless and 
formal? How many spaces in that vol- 
ume are now filled with the record of 
worldly thoughts and trifling conversation 
which might have been occupied with ex- 
hortations to the impenitent and ofi'ered to 
glorify God and extend the kingdom of the 
Redeemer? 

Sins of omission are all recorded in the 
Book of Jehovah as wejl as actiiSil trans- 
gressions. And these sins weigh as heav- 
ily upon the conscience of every enlighten- 
ed Christian and oppress him as deeply 



with the sense of guilt as those of commis 
sion. The state ot feeling of a truly pious 
heart in view of duties neglected and op 
portunities for good unimproved is beauti- 
fully expressed in the following words of 
the poet E. 

'It is not wliat my Lands have done 

That weiglis my spirits dffwn; 
That casts a shadow o'er the sun 

And over earth a frown; 
It is not ray heinous guilt 

Or vice by men abhorred; 
For fair the fame that I have built 

A fair life's just rcn'ard; 
And men would wonder if they knew 
How s.id I fe^'l with sins so few. 

Alas! they only see a part 

When thus they judge the whole; 
They do not look upon the heart. 

They cannot read the sonl. 
But I survey myself within; 

And mournfully I feel 
How deeply the principle of sin 

Its roots may there conceal. 
And spread its poison through the frame, 
Without a dread that men would blame. 

They judge by actions which they see 

Brought out by the sun; 
But conscience brings reproach to me 

•For what I've left undone; 
For opportunites of good 

In folly, thrown away; 
For time misused in solitude; 

Forgetfulness to piay; 
And thousand more omitted things. 
Whose memory fills my breast with stings. 

And therefore is my heart opprest. 

With thoughtfulness and gloom; 
Nor can I hope for perfect rest 

Till I escape the doom. 
Help nie, the Merciful and Just! 

This fearful doom to Hy; 
Thou art my strength, my peace, my trust; 

Oh help me lest I die! 
And let my full obedience prove 
The perfect power of faith and love.' 



PROFANE SWEARING. 
Standing on the street a few days since, 
we were shocked at the unprovoked and 
open profanity of a well looking young 
man who happened to be passing. We 
did not know him, but could but feel the 
most profound pity and anxieiy for one'so 
young standing, or rather running head^ 
long into the path of abandoned guilt an J" 
ruin. Many young men are secretly pro- 
fane, but have so much self-respect, that 
they would not dare to go cursing and 
swearing along the stre.ets. For such 
there is hope, because there is evidence 
of reflection and self-respect. But the 
young man who is openly profane, who 
dares in the streets^ -n-ithout ,cau';e, and 
merely to be seen and heard, to take the 
name of God m vain, shows a want of self 
respect and recklessness of cl aricter, that 



renders his ruin Bvpre than probable and 
dissipates the hope of his usefulness or fu- 
ture piety and salvation. Young men are 
frequently mistaken as to the impression 
of such conduct on those who may hap- 
pen to hear them. They are apt to think 
that others regard it as manly, or as an 
evidence of shrewdness, and will be 
amused at it. This may be the impression 
on the minds of the low and vulgar, and 
thoughtless boys and negroes, but to all 
in whose estimation a young man should 
desire to be respected, they become objects 
of pity and disgust. 

Profanity is apt to be the first step in 
the downward course of most young men. 
They leave the patei'nal roof probably 
without having stained their lips with an 
oath, they have always been taught to re- 
gard as sacred the name of God and per- 
haps to lisp it in prayer, but having gone 
forth to prepare for or to enter upon the 
business of life, and parental restraints and 
examples at a distance, they feel as though 
something must be done on their part to 
show that they are free and independent — 
that they are men. From the use of by 
words they soon find it convenient, and 
think that their object is partly accomplish- 
ed, by the use of an oath. This leads to 
such associations as open the way to in- 
temperance, lewdness, abandonment, and 
perdition ! 

Oh, Young man, if thou hast not en- 
tered this path, we beseech you avoid it ! 
If thou hast been ensnared and hast ta- 
ken the name of thy maker in vain, re- 
trace thy steps and seek forgiveness of thy 
offended maker ! H. 



"LORD LAY NOT THIS SIN TO THEIR 
CHARGE." 

Those were the dyin:;- words of Stephen , 
uttered in behalf of his murderers while 
they were in the act ef taking his life. In 
this he manifested the spirit of Christ who 
on the cross prayed "Father forgive them 
they know not what they do." To be 
able to forgive our enemies and pray for 
them is the strongest evidence of genuine 
piety. It is directly opposed to the in- 
clinations of the carnal heart. The lan- 
guage of the unrenewed heart is "an eye 
for an eye and a tooth for a tooth." But 
the injunction of the Saviour is "Love 
your enemies, to do good to them that 
hate you, and pray for those who des- 
pitefully use you." How different is this 
spirit from that manifested by many pro- 
fessing christians, who are ever ready to 
resent the slightest insult or what they 
may conceive to be such. It is a fact, that 
that the idea prevails to a lamentable ex- 



CLASSIC UNION. 



lis 



tent among members of the cbiistian 
church that they are not only justifiable 
in retaliating an injury but that it would 
actually be disgraceful not to do so. How 
persons can entertain such an idea, and at 
the same time profess to take the Bible 
as their only rule of faith and practice, it 
is impossible for us to conceive. Nothing 
could be more at variance with the teach- 
ings of Christ and the precepts of his 
word. We are taught in revelation that 
those who have not the spirit of Christ 
liave no part in him. He always mani- 
fested a forgiving spirit towards his ene- 
mies. There is not a command within the 
lids of die Bible more explicit or more 
frequently repeated, than the command to 
forgive ond love our enemies and strive to 
do them good. To forgive others is made 
an explicit condition of our own forgive- 
ness by that God whom we have all offen- 
ded. God alone can forgive sins. He has 
said "if ye forgive not men their trespas- 
ses neither will your Heavenly Father 
forgive you." Eeader, do you believe 
that? And 3'et can } ou harbor resent- 
ment or ilhvill against a fellow mortal. — 
"God is not man that he should lie." If 
we feel conscious that we cannot from the 
heart forgive our enemies, it is the extreme 
of folly to presume that we are born 
again. We have been mistaken in sup- 
posing that the spirit of God has renewed 
our hearts. We have embraced a false 
hope that will forsake us when most 
needed. We are on the road that leads 
to endless perdition. Let us instantly 
pause, cast away our hope which has no 
semblance of a foundation in the word of 
God on which to rest and seek to know 
the wickedness of our hearts, humble 
ourselves before God and implore the 
sanctifying influence of his spirit to change 
our hearts to love Him and forgive those 
who injure us. E. 



Gale's Reflections on Wall; French and 
English Grammar; Livi; Schrevelii Lexi- 
con; Graeca Majora; Graeca Minora; Ga- 
zetteer of United States. 



PRESENT TO UNIVERSITY LIBRARY. 
Rev. Sam. Baker, D. D., has made a 
handsome New Year gift of the following 
volumes to the Library of Union Universi- 
ty. We trust that other friends of science 
will follow the example of Dr. B.^keb, and 
that the Library will be rapidly augment- 
ed. Many persons have books of no use 
to themselves, but «hich would be valued 
by the University, and which they would 
give if they onjy knew they would be re- 
ceived. Wc are thankful for every book, 
no matter how old, that may be presented: 
Morse's Universal Geography; Horace: 
Virgil; Cicero's Orations; Sallust; Lucian's 
Dialogues; Xenophon; Gospel Restored; 



PREPARE TO MEET THY GOD. 

A few days since there stood behind, the 
counter in a store a young man in all the 
fres-hness of youth and hope, in the very 
day-spring of lite, and about to consum- 
mate a long cherished attachment to a 
young lady, whose preparations were al- 
most complete. 

The wedding dresses were ordered, the 
journey that was to follow, arranged, and 
expected guests in happ\' an'.icipatation of 
crowning wi h rose buds and flowers the 
youthful pair. 

But the young man sickened. — Medical 
aid was instantly summoned — but no re- 
lief! Friends grew pale and trembled 
with anxious foreboding. Soon a cousul- 
t.ition wi'.h the best physicians — then a de- 
cision. Two or three steps onl}' from life 
and health to death and the grave! It 
tikes but a few days, or hours, or even 
moment, to pass ofl' the dearest beloved to 
the land of darkness and silence. The de. 
cision was made, that our young friend 
must die, and with praise worthy candor, 
he was informed by his attending physi- 
cian. 

Rut what a scene of agony was here! 

In the dead of night, ihe minister of 
Jesus was called to the abode of anguish 
and tears, for now the soul, the priceless 
soul, came oni« all i's worth to claim in- 
stant attention. — Praying unceasing was 
called for. Tha time was short. Every} 
tiling was to be done. 

The dj'ing youlh had thought of his 
priceless soul before. He had i-esulred to 
be a Christian. Perhsps, at the the con- 
summation of his best earthly hopes, he 
had listened, it is hoped not vainly, to the 
suggestions of conscience. 

But he did not expect to he so crowded 
for time. Who does? He did not surely 
expect to be hurriad to the feet of his for- 
giving S.iviour, when every chord of life 
was breaking. But it was so. In the in- 
tensity of that hour, it was, "Save, Lord 
or I perish." 

The light flashiag from the othtr world, 
not only revealed to the dying youth the 
worth of his own soul, bui, it revealed the 
worth of other souls. 

He looked upon his f ither, and clung 
around his ncek. and with the eloquence 
of a dying man, besought liim to attend 
to his soul without a moments delay,. 
•' Father," said he, "listen to your dying 
son. Do not stop to hi a;' what this man 
says or that, but hasten at once to tl.e Sa- 
viour.!" 

'•I will my son, I will," was the earn- 
est reply. 

Then" to his mother, his sister and broth- 
er, his friends around were equally impor- 
tunate entreaties. But this was not all. 
Every careless friend had a message from 
the death bed — all embraced in this sen- 
tence, "Prepare to meet thy God!' 

Tell every one that, said he, prepare to 
die! old and voung. And so this little mes- 



sage is going the round in every ear, in e- 

very heart, in every customer; to every 
play-fellow, to every inhabitant of the 
town, "Prepare to die! ' Going not from 
the pulpit only, but from the death bed, 
"Prepare to die!" 

The sentence is written down by the 
recording angel. The promise too, "/ uitl 
my son," is also there. 

The last word was said, and the spirit 
returned to God who gave it. 

The shroud arrayed the limbs instead 
of tbeebiidal attire. The corpse was eon- 
veyed to the church. 

Ev^ry one in our town seemed a mour- 
ner. Every eye wept. Every one of the 
hundreds who thronged the aisles, the 
gallery, the stairs, the windows, who stood 
outside of the church, heard the sentence, 
"Prepm-e to die!" just as it came from the 
death beJ, and the coffin seemed to echo 
it, and every time we pass the grave, the 
voice seems again to utter, "Prepare to 
did ' 

Oh Alvan! who shall lay to heart thy 
dying sermon? Wlio shall be saved by it? 
And she! the lonely — the desolate one! 
who can number her tears, or count her 
sorrows? Remember her grief all ye who 
fold your bridal dresses, and in bright an- 
ticipations look forward to to-morrow! 
And oh, forget not Alvan's dying words, 
"Prepare to die!" — Mrs. WIdttlcsei/s 
Alagazlne. 



LOSS OF THE FIRST BORN. 
We have read o*" a young mother who 
had newly buried her fii st born. Her pas- 
tor went to visit her, and on finding her 
sweetly resigned, he asked her how she at- 
tained such resignation ? She replied " I 
used to think of my boy continually — 
whether sleeping or waking; to me he 
seemedmore beautiful than other children. 
I was disappointed if visitors omitted to 
praise his eyes or his curls, or the robes I 
wrought for him with my needle. At first 
I believed it the natural current of a mo- 
ther's love. Then I feared it was pride, 
and sought to humble myself before Him 
who resisteth the proud. One night in my 
dreams, I thought an angel stood beside 
me, and said, * Where is the little bud thou 
nursest in thy bosom ? I am sent to take 
it away. Where is the little harp ? Give 
it to me ! It is like those which sound the 
praise of God in heaven." I awoke in 
tears; my b'eautiful babe drooped like a 
bud which the worm pierced; his last wail- 
ing was like the shattered harp-strings; 
all my world seemed gone; still in my ago- 
ny I listened, for there was a voice in my 
soul, like the voice of the angel who warn- 
ed me, saying: " God loveth a cheerful 
giver. ' I laid ray mouth in the dust, and 
said, let thy will be mine; and as I rose, 
though the tear lay on my cheek, there was 
a smile also. — Since then this voice has 
been heard amid the duties of every day — 
mcthinks it says continually, " The cheer- 
ful ijiver." 



There are seventy-five Protestant Mis- 
sionaries in China at the present time, and 
fifteen Missionary Stations. Forty-eight 
are Americans. 



12-t 



CLASSIC UNION. 



THE LITERARY ATTRACTIONS OF THE 
BIBLE. ■ 

BT REV. JAMKS HAMILTON', 
Minister of the Scotch Clmrcli, Regent Square, 

London. 
Delivered before the' Young Men's Chris- 
tian Association, 

liXETICK HALL, N0V£5rBF.R 27, lj-'49. 

Tlie Address published below on the 
Literary Attractions of tlie Bible, by the 
Jlev. James Hamilton, of London, will be 
found to be a gem — nay more, a stiing of 
precious je\yels, which no one, having the 
least taste for literature, can fail to read 
again and again. 

What will render it of more interest 
p erhaps to the American reader, is the fol- 
lowing iitcident connected with its intro- 
duction into the United States. The 
American Minister, Hon. Abbott Law- 
rence, soon after his arrival in London, 
called on the Rev. Mr. Hamilton, and not 
finding him in, left his card, expecting, of 
course, that the Rev. gentleman would 
return the call. He did not, and agnin 
the Minister called and left his card, but 
with no better success. Soon after this, 
one Sabbath morning, he and his lady 
,,'eut to the Scotch Church to hear Mr. 
Hamilton preach; and after service linger- 
ed to introduce himself, and stated that he 
had called at his residence several times, 
but not receiving a visit from him sup- 
posed h* might not have seen his cards. — 
The Rev, gentleman acknowledged he had 
received the cards, but remarked that his 
constitutional diffidence was so great that 
he could not find nerve sufficient to return 
bts politeness and visit so disiinguished an 
individual as the American Minister. — ■■ 
Shortly afterwards he sent Mr. Lawrence 
a copy of the address below, witli which 
the Minister was so pleased tJiat he sent 
it to his brother in Boston, requesting- him 
to have a large number printed at his own 
expense and circulated: 

"God made the present earth as the 
home of man; but had he meant it as a 
mere lodging, a w-orld less beautiful would 
have served the purpose. There was no 
need for the carpet of verdure or the ceil- 
ing of blue — no need for the mountams 
and cataracts and forests — no need for the 
rainbow, no need for the flowers. A big, 
round island, half of it arable, and half 
oi it pasture, with a clump of trees in one 
corner, and a magazine of fuel in another, 
might liave held and fed ten millions of 
people; and a hundred islands, all m;ide 
on the same pattern, big and round, might 
have held and fed the population of the 
globe. But man is something more than 
the animal which wants lodging and food. 
H-e has a spiritual nature, full of keen 
perceptions and deep .sympathies. He 
has an eye for the sublime and the beau- 
tiful, and his kind Creator has provided 
man's abode with affluent materials for 



these nobler tastes. He has built Mont 
Blanc, and molcon the lakes in which its 
shadow sleep. He has intoned Niagara's 
thundei", and has breathed the zephyr 
which sweeps its spra}-. He has shagged 
the steep with its cedars, and spread the 
meadow with its kingcups and daisies. — 
He has made it a world of fragrance and 
music— a world of brightness and sym- 
metr}'--a world where the grand and the 
graceful, the awful and the lovely, rejoice 
together. In fashioning the home of man,- 
the Creator had an eye to something more 
than conven'ence, and built not a barrack, 
but a palace — not a work-house, but an 
Alhambra; something which should not 
only be very comfortable, but very splen- 
did and very fair — something which should 
inspire the soul of its mhabitant, and even 
draw fortli the "very good" of compla- 
cent Deity. 

"God also made the Bible as the guide 
an.d oracle of m.an; but had he meat it as 
a mere lesson-book of duty, a volume less 
various and less attractive would have an- 
swered eveiy end. A few plain para- 
graphs, announcing God's own character 
and his disposition towards us sinners here 
on earth, mentioning the provision which 
he has made for our future happiness, and 
indicating the diE'erent duties which he 
would have us perform — a few simple sen- 
tences would have sufficed to tell what God 
is, and what he would have us do. There 
was no need for the picturesque narrativ 



man, should captivate his taste; and which, 
in transforming his affections, should also 
expand his intellect. The pearl is of 
great price; but even the casket is of ex- 
quisite beauty. The sword is of ethereal 
temper, and nothing cuts so keen as its 
double edge; but there arc jewels on the 
hilt, and line tracery on the scabbard. — 
The shekels are of the purest ore; but even 
the scrip which contains them is of a tex- 
ture more curious than that the artists of 
earth could fashion it. The apples are 
gold; but even the basket is silver. 

"In speaking of the literary exoellcnee 
of the holy Scriptures, I am aware of a 
twofold disadvantage. Some have never 
looked on the Bible as a readable book. — 
They remember how the}' got long tasks 
from it at school, and spelled their arduous 
way through polysyllabic chapters and 
joyless genealogies. And in later life they 
have only heard it sounded forth monoto- 
nously from the drowsy desk, or freezing 
in the atmosphere of some sparse and win- 
try sanctuary. So irksome and insipid 
has every association made the book, that 
were they shut up in a parlor with an old 
directory, and an old almanac, and an old 
Bible, they would spend the first hour oa 
the almanac, and the next on the directory, 
and die of ennui before they opened the 
Bible. They have got at home a set of 
their favorite classics, and on a quiet eve- 
ning they will take down a volume of 
Chaucer or Milton, or oven Thomas Fuller 
and the majestic poem — no need for the ! or Jeremy Taylor, or an Elzevir Virgil, or 
proverb, the story, and the psalm. A i a Foulis' Homer, and read at it till long 
chapter of theology, and another of raor- beyond their time of rests; but to them 
als — a short account of the incarnation the Bible is no classic. They don't care 
and the great atonement, and a few pages to keep it in some taking or tasteful edition, 
of rul'.'S and directions for the Christian and they would never dream of sitting 
life, might have contained the main truths i down to read it as a recreation or an intel- 
of Scripture, and have supplied us with a lectual treat. And then there are others 
Bible oj simplest meaning and smallest ; in a happier case to whom that Bible is so 
■size. And in that case the Bible would 1 sacred, who have found it so full of solemn 
h-xvebeen consulted only by those rare , import, and to whom its every sentence is 
and wistful spirits to whom the great lure- so fraught with divine significance, that 
after is a subject of anxity, who are really j they feel it wrong or revolting to read it 
anxious to know what Got is, and how ' with the critic's eye. They would rather 
themselves may please him. Butjn giv- peruse on their bended knees, praying 
ing that Bible, its divine Author had re- God to show them the wonders of his 
gard to the mind of man. He knew that ] word, than, with the scholar's pencil in 
man has more curiosity than piety, more I their hand, ready to pounce on each happy 
taste than sanctity; and that more persons • phrase and exquisite figure. They would 
are anxious to hear some new, or read j rather peruse it in the company of Luther 
some beauteous thing, than to read or hear i or Leighton, than along with Erasmus or 
about God and the great salvation. He | Scaliger. And with such persons we own 
knew that few would ask. What must I j a decided sympathy. But we trust that 
de to be saved ? till they came in contact ' both will bear with us a little while we en- 
witli the Bible itself; and therefore he t dcavor to show, that if no book be so im- 
made the Bible not only an instructive portaiit as the Bible, so none is more inter- 
book, but an attractive one — not only true, esting, and that the book which contains 
but enticing. He tilled it with marvellous most of the beautiful is the one which 

must c'er remain the standard of the good 
and the true. 

"And here we would only add one re- 
mark ^Yh^oh it is important to bear in mem- 
ory- The rhetoiiL;al and poetical beauties 
of Scripture are merely incidental. Its 
authors wrote, not for gloiy nor display — 
not to astonish or amaze their brethren, 



incidents and engaging history; with sunny 
pictures from the old-world scenery, and 
affecting anecdotes from the patriarch 
times. He replenished it with stately ar- 
gument and thrilling verse, and sprinkled 
it over with sententious wisdom and pro- 
-verbial pungency. He made ita book of 
lofty thoughts and noble images — a book 
of heavenly doctrine; but withal 6f earth- ! but to instruct them and make them bet- 
ly adaption. In preparing a guide to im- ! ter. They wrote for God's glory, not 
mortality, infinite Wisdom gav« cot a die- j their own; they wrote for the world s ad- 
tionary nor a grammar, but a Bible — a i vantage, not to aggrandize themselves. — 
book which, in trying to catch the heart of ! Demosthenes composed his most splendid 



CLASSIC UNION. 



125 



oration in order to win the crown of elo- 
quence; and the most elaborate effort of 
ancient oratory — the panegyric to which 
Isocrates devoted fifteen years — was just 
an essay" written for a prize. How differ- 
ent the circumstances in which the speech 
on Mar's Hill was spoken; and the fare- 
well sermon in the upper chamber at 
Troas. Hei-odotus and Thucydides com 
posed their histories with a view to popu- 
lar applause; and Pindar's fiery pulse beat 
faster in prospect of the great Olympic 
gathering and the praises of assembled 
Greece. How opposite the circumstances 
in which the seer of Horeb penned his 
faithful story, and Isaiah and Jeremiah 
poured forth their feailess denunciations 
of popular sins. The most superb of 
modern historians confesses the flutter 
which he felt when the last line of his 
task was written, and bethought that per- 
haps his fame was established. A more 

important history concludes, "These 

things are written that ye might believe 
that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; 
and that believing, ye might have life 
through his name." And some of you 
will remember the proud finale in which 
the Roman lyrist predicts for himself im- 
mortal celebrity.* Alongride his elo- 
quent but egotistic vaticination, you can- 
not do better than read the last words of 
Israel's sweet singer: "His name shall 
endure for ever; his name shall be contin- 
ued as long as the sun; and men shall be 
blessed in him: all nations shall call him 
blessed. Blessed be the Lord God, the 
God of Israel, who only doeth wondrous 
things; and blessed be his glorious name 
for ever: and let the whole earth be filled 
with his glory. Amen and Amen. The 
prayers of David the Son of Jesse are 
ended." 

"Remembering then that the Bible con- 
tains no ornamental pages, nothing writ- 
ten for mere display, that, its steadfast pur- 
poses is "Glory to God in the highest," 
and the truest blessedness of man — I re- 
peat, that that Bible abounds in passages 
of the purest beauty and stateliest gran- 
deur, all the grandeur and all the more 
beautiful because they are casual and un- 
sought. The fire which flashes from the 
iron hoof of the Tartar steed as he scours 
the midnight path, is grander than the 
artificial firework, for it is the casual effect 
of speed and power. Tlie clang of ocean, 
as he booms his billows on the rock, and 
the echoing caves give chorus, is more 
soul-filling- and sublime thall the music of 
the orchestra; for it is the music of that 
main so mighty that there is a grandeur 
in all tt does, in its sleep a melodj', and in 
its march a stately psalm. And in the 
bow which paints the melting cloud, there 
is a beiuty which the stained glass or gor- 
geous drapery emulates in vain; for it is 
the glory whfch gilds beneficence, the 
brightness which bespeaks a double boon, 
-the flush which cannot but; come forth 
when both the sun and the shower are 
there. The style of Scripture lias all this 
glory. It has i,he gracefulness of a high 

*"£xi?gi moniiaentiim tero p^enniue. 

* » JB » » Usque ego po.iteia 

Cresc.'im Uiude, rucaus, etc. Hur. lib. 3, od. 30. 



utility; it has the majesty of intrinsic 
power; it has the charm of its own sancti- 
t}-; it never labors, never strives, but in- 
stinct with great realities, and bent on 
blessed ends, has all the translucent beau- 
t)' and unstudied power which you might 
expect from its lofty object and allwise 
Author." [to Bis continued.] 

LOT'S WIFE. 

"Arise, take thy wife," said the An- 
gels to Lot, as they urged him from the ci- 
ty devoted to destruction. Her relation 
only is noticed, and neither her name nor 
those of her daughters appear upon the in- 
spired page. Of her origin, also, we have 
no information, and the angelic announce- 
ment, quoted above, is the first allusion to 
her in the sacred Scriptures. It appears 
quite probable that she was a native of So- 
dom, and became united to Lot after his 
commencing lo reside in that wicked and 
ill-fated city, When the hour of judgment 
had come, and wliile Lot still lingered, the 
angel men are represented as laying hold 
upon his hand, and upon the hand of his 
wife and upon the hand of his two daught- 
ers, the Lord being rnerciful to him, and 
they bi ought him forth and set him with- 
out the city, and said, "Escape for thy 
life! Look not behind thee, neither stay 
thou in all the plain. Escape to the moun 
tain, lest you be consumed." But as they 
fled