check or balance is introduced to tame the violence of mechanical power, or to put an instant stop to dangerous motion. They who have examined the complicated arrangements and applications of the powers of steam, must have been struck with the genius that devised, and the skill that has contrived the wonderful operations. To see the irresistible force of the expansive fluid extended or decreased by the mere movement of a single lever, swayed by the hand of a child, as the different parts of the machinery are severally accelerated or arrested in their movements, creates a degree of wonder at the power which nature has surrendered to man. And yet this is but the bauble of a child when compared with those mighty energies which she has reserved for her own use,-those stupendous agencies which she sways not only in her animal and material operations, but in those more secret, but not less important influences also, by which the moral world is actuated and controlled/ Wherever we use the word nature, we mean not that blind chance, which some have inconsiderately elevated to divinity. The laws of nature we consider only as the uniform method which the Deity has been pleased to prescribe to himself in the government of the world. Nature therefore, in our acceptation, is but another name for the consistency of God's operations, controlled by settled laws, and susceptible of being set aside when they interfere with his sublime purposes. It is in this light that we view the subject when we speak of the natural influence of the female sex, an influence which was formed and settled by that great and good Being, as one of the vast moral motives by which the conduct of the half of mankind is to be controlled-an influence which is in the moral world, what gravity is in the material.

Viewing the subject in this light, the reflection spontaneously arises-how responsible are the duties of the female sex! They have virtues of a peculiar character, calling loudly upon them for exercise, in reference particularly to their own sex. In addition to these they have a power to wield over the other sex, for the use or abuse of which they must be solemnly chargeable at that tribunal whence there lies no appeal. How important then, are not only the usual and the serious occupations, but even the amusements and the diversions in which they indulge. How narrow a watch must be kept up not only in their serious moments, but in

those also of lightness and levity, since it is not their own character alone which is affected by habits of dissoluteness and dissipation, but the character of those also who are affectedly called the lords of the creation. These considerations are early recommended to their attention, not merely as responsible, but as gifted beings, whose influence upon the general mass, of happiness or misery, in the world, is perhaps greater and more widely extended, than they can hope or believe.

P.

THE BLIND MAN'S LAY.

"At times Allan felt as if his blindness were a blessing--for it forced him to trust to his own soul-to turn for comfort to the best and purest human affections-and to see God alway. Fanny could almost have wept to see the earth and the sky so beautiful, now that Allan's eyes were dark; but he whispered to her, that the smell of the budding trees and of the primroses that he knew were near his feet, was pleasant indeed, and that the singing of all the little birds made his heart dance within him."-LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF SCOTTISH LIFE.

HE sat beside the fountain, on whose brink

A troop of blue-eyed violets oped their lids

To the first breezy call of early spring

And there from the grey dawn till twilight's gloom,

Where the soft, springing moss, surcharged with dew,

Yielded its oozing moisture to the touch,
Telling the nightfall near,-he mused away
Long hours of silent happiness, save when
The soft and pitying words of love would call
His spell-bound spirit from its blissfull thrall;
Then in a voice of sweetest melody

He breathed his unrepining, meek reply:

Though I hear thee gaily tell
Of the tulip's shaded bell,
Of the wall flower's varied hue,
And the violet "darkly blue,"
And the crimson blush that glows
On the rich, voluptuous rose-
These no longer bloom for me,
These I never more may see.

But this gentle season still,
Can my heart with gladness fill—
I can hear the spring-winds blow
And the gurgling fountains flow-
Hark-e'en now a zephyr breathes
Through the balmy hawthorn wreaths,
Unfelt, unheard by all but me,
It swells so soft, so silently!

I can hear the humming-bee
Flitting o'er the sunny lea,
Wooing every bashful flower
From morn till evening's dewy hour.
All around the voice of birds,
And the lisped and laughing words
Of merry childhood, greet my ear,
With power the saddest heart to cheer.

When o'er earth night's shadow lies,
I hear thee tell of cloudless skies,
And countless stars that twinkle through
Heaven's broad and boundless arch of blue;
Of snow white spires and turrets fair
Soft gleaming in the moonlit air,
Whose dusky depths of shadow lie
Heightening the brilliant scenery.

Then beneath the pine trees tall,
Near yonder foaming waterfall,
I listen to the stock dove's wail
Far floating through the quiet vale;

Soft sighing breezes waft to me

The fragrance of the birchen tree-
And the " brawling burnie" wimples by
With a gush of soothing melody.

E'en all sweet sense of these will fade
At times as though impervious shade
Like that which hides me from the day,
O'er each external image lay-
Then, many a form thou canst not see,
Unfolds its sun bright wings to me,
And deep within my silent soul

High thoughts and holiest visions roll.

SKETCHES OF AMERICAN CHARACTER.

NO. VII.

THE BELLE AND THE BLEU.

J. W. THOMPSON, Esq. was a very rich man, and a very melancholy man-one of those characters, who, seemingly blest with all that earth can give, are yet always repining and finding fault with the wind, the weather, the season; or else complaining of ill luck, or ill health-and always feeling an ill temper-but the world felt no sympathy for his sorrows. He had passed through life calculating how he might turn every incident that befel him to some pecuniary profit, and his acquaintances were now, in their turn, calculating how much he had gained, and how soon he would leave his wealth to his two daughters. Had he been a poor man and worked at day-labor to support his children, how much more his death would have been lamented! For he died-the rich die as certainly, though not always as peacefully as the indigent. His neighbors would have said, “what will become of the poor girls now their kind father is gone, who worked so hard ever since his wife died, to provide for his darlings! He is dead, and well may they weep-they will never find such another tender friend." But when the rich J. W. Thompson, Esq. died, they said no such thing.

"I do not think, Simon, the death of Squire Thompson any great loss to the world," said Mr. Jacob Towner, to his hired man, as he paused from his labor of mowing, and rested his scythe on the ground, while the funeral procession passed. "But yet I fear the world is a great loss to him. When a man's heart is wholly set upon the mammon of unrighteousness, he must feel very poor when forced away from his idol. But still, Simon, we will not judge him," continued he, raising his hand and waving it with an oratorical motion as nearly in imitation of his good clergyman as he possibly could; "we must not judge him, Simon. Nevertheless I was thinking how foolish it is for us to be so anxious for riches, when God just as willingly receives a beggar as a prince, and never shows any favor to a man because he has left a great estate behind him. Ah! Simon, what are all the things of this world but vanity? Hark! is