332 STANZAS IN DEJECTION. to combat the tempest, or, like stout ships that furl their sails and present their bare masts to the fury of the storm, they give only their bare arms to the gale, he applauds their stern hardihood, and, like them, summons resolution to battle with the storms of life. Amidst the very bleakest hour of winter's reign, when the howl of the wind is like a demon's anthem, he will find all the appliances of instruction in the pages of Cowper. It is there, also, that the patriot will find his love of liberty informed, regulated, and encouraged by the assertion of sound and sterling principles, honest and manly sentiments; but no demagoguism, no furious mob-rant or sanscullottes declamation, mars the effect of his eloquence, when, with prophetic fire, he hurls his anticipatory anathema on that quintessence of coward despotism, the Bastile of France. The swelling indignation with which he apostrophizes that hold and heart of slavery, is not surpassed by anything in his own, and rarely in that of any other author's works, if we except the pealing notes of Byron, when he "stood in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs;" and even in his lines there is perhaps too much of the cornelian polish to make them the index of true feeling : "Then shame to manhood, and opprobrious more To France than all her losses and defeats, Old or of later date, by sea or land, Which God avenged on Pharaoh-the Bastile Then follows a heart-harrowing picture of a pining captive," cruelly spared, and hopeless of escape," in the dull cold monotony of his living burial-place, counting the hour-bell and expecting no change-reading the sad biography of his predecessors on the bare and mouldy walls-taming the plethoric and bloated spider for amusement, or numbering the embossments of his iron door for recreation-the whole ending in a burst of fine poetic feeling too long for transcription, but with which we trust few readers are unacquainted. As a promoter of the great objects to which this publication is dedicated, Cowper has peculiar claims to our respect, esteem, and admi. ration. He who tunes his harp in laudation of piety, truth, and individual morality, cannot fail to advance popular freedom. GLANCES THROUGH SCRIPTURE VISTAS. BY METTA VICTORIA FULLER. I. EDEN-LIFE. THE morning stars sang together! There was light and glory through the universe; yet one system lay still, lifeless, and dark in the wonderful of space. The Angels looked upon it and were mute, 'till God said, "Let there be light." Then the great sun, hanging black and huge in the centre of the new system, brightened upon the eyes of the gold-winged throng-brightened -shone-dazzled! Faint and soft, at first, as the fartherest star; then like the glory of their own folded wings-then bursting and burning into magnificence of light! The angels swelled an anthem of wonder and joy! Revealed in the warm splendor of the sun, before them lay the system of new worldspure, beautiful, and lovely-charmed by the spell of the first radiance of their light. They asked a name for one fair planet, and shouted it admiringly to other stars-Earth! Earth! They looked upon its grandeur and its beauty -music, eloquence, and bloom. And while they looked, a MAN stood in his princely majesty, alone within the loveliest place of earth. Perfume floated in the morning air; leaves glistened and waved in the swaying foliage above his head; waves sparkled along the river that murmured before him; blossoms grew around his feet. With one white hand he pushed the flowing hair from his manly forehead, and glanced out upon this beauty and this mystery with his bright, dark, eloquent eyes. Surprise was in his attitude, happiness in his expression. The wonder of life was being revealed to him. All the loveliness of the world was embodied in his natural beauty-the grace of motion-the radiance of light-the sweetness of music; and to these were added his chief gift his fearful, glorious gift of Intellect. In this there were two principles-Love and Hate. From these two, every passion, and emotion, and power, making men wonderful, sublime, and terrible, sprung forth. These two were Life and Death-and Hate was the Will of man, and Love was the Spirit. Now as he stood there, Hate slumbered in his bosom-Love woke to life and made happiness through his heart-a trembling, deep, and thrilling happiness; that grew more and more perfect, and developed within him-whose spell was unbroken and lengthened when the beautiful first woman stood in blushing radiance within his arms-whose power was absolute until the fatal Hate, taking the serpent form, struggled with the spiritual Dove. Then the Paradise was no more-man went forth, taking the serpent and the dove with him -and they struggled forever in his bosom-struggled-struggled forever! II. CAIN'S MARRIAGE. There were many brave men and beautiful maidens dwelling east of Eden in the land of Nod. The young men tilled the ground with cheerfulness and joy-the sweat was on their brows, but hope and love were in their hearts. And the dear maidens, walking in their blushing loveliness, brought sparkling water and fresh fruit to the weary laborers. It was an entrancing sight, the broad, fair fields, rich with the rustling grain and waving vines; with the reapers resting beneath cool, musical trees, their glad gaze following the graceful forms gliding here and there; with white arms upbearing the noon-tide meal, and shining hair floating, and fair feet glancing, and bright smiles glowing, and loving eyes darkling, and sweet words flowing!-a brave, entrancing sight; when the creation was yet new, and the crimson of roses, the gold of clouds, the blue of heaven, and the sparkle of streams were all in the freshness of their first beauty. There was ONE among the number of young men who never went with them to the river-side -never danced with them in the forest shadenever sung with them the praises of the Creator -never gathered with them the purple grapes to toss unto the laughing maidens! Alone he 334 GLANCES THROUGH SCRIPTURE VISTAS. reaped and garnered-in solitude he drank and ate. No blushing and bright creature, with a hesitating step and drooping glance, brought to him the basket of fruit, wreathed with the lilies of the field-no white arms lured him to the bewildering dance-he played no rustic reel at the twilight hour-he breathed no tenderness upon a burning and soft cheek. Alone in the midst of many--dark in the || midst of brightness--and in the midst of gladness-CAIN, the murderer and the accursed, dwelt in the land of Nod. Was there none among that happy and beautiful nation, in whose young heaving breast pity and charity mingled with love, to soften the curse of the unhappy man, who wore the burning mark upon his blighted and blackened brow? One golden day Cain left his toil, and flung himself upon the roses blooming on the bank of the river, into whose concealing depths, years before, he had thrown the lifeless form of his young brother. He looked across upon the beautiful and desolated garden of Eden, and the bitterness of his soul groaned within him; he buried his dark face on the earth, and lay like a writhing worm. Through the deafness of his wretchedness a sweet voice stole upon his ear; through the madness of despair it came with its mission of mercy. Cain arose to his feet, and the first gleam of hope lightened through his aching eyes, as they rested upon the young girl standing before him, timidly presenting the noon-tide meal. She was the first woman who had ever done for him this grateful deed. Hitherto he had not dared hardly to turn his longing gaze to the fair beings thronging around his blessed fellow men. It had been his fate to toil without reward-his punishment, to till the ground and find it stony— to reap the grain, and find it turned to tares-to garner fruit, and find it with an ashen core. Holding the slight basket, woven with simple skill by her own dainty fingers, extended by the trembling hand, Adah, the young grape-gatherer, stood in his shunned presence. The brown lashes quivered upon her cheeks, and blushes crimsoned her spiritual young forehead. Eagerly Cain read the expression of that beautiful face. What emotion could agitate that white throbbing bosom? Was it fear? was it he dared not hope; but the dark passions of his nature died away, and tremblingly, wildly, he leaned toward her, taking not the offered meal, but gazing with a fervid and intense gaze upon the maiden's face. Hurriedly she raised her tearful eyes to his, and dropped their glance again; but in their deep expression he had read more than he dared to hope -pity, and mercy, and tenderness, and the boundless wealth of gentle and entire devotion. She had turned from the proud, and the beautiful, and happy, to soothe the sorrow of his destiny. With the heart of love which woman ever since has proved, her affection was the more tender and great because of his misfortune. She had turned away long before from the smiles of her companions, to watch through the distance the desolate object of her love-and at length she had ventured to follow the promptings of her merciful and passionate spirit. Radiant with the light of this beautiful devotion, and trembling at the intensity of her own emotions-blushing with the thrill of youthful feeling, again she raised those tearful and pleading eyes. Cain took the basket from her hand, and set it amid the roses. It was true!-he was beloved! His sudden hope was not a mocking. His joy was too powerful to allow of speech-he extended his arms, and in a moment the young maiden lay sobbing on his bosom. His frame shook and quivered with powerful feeling as he clasped her close, close to his dark, heaving heart. And when he grew more calm, he passed his hand tenderly, admiringly over her shining hair, and soft, pure forehead. Her beauty was a wonder and joyher devotion was a bliss and holiness. Like a delicate lily leaning its cheek on a burnt, and blackened, and blasted tree, Adah lay on the bosom of Cain. They were wedded. And as the simple and solemn promises ended, a light, as if it were a ray from heaven, fell upon and warmed the heart of the outcast, and abode there forever. There was a golden lustre over the lilies, and a faint sparkle in the air, and a bright tint upon the western mist, and a gleam on the river, and a smile over Paradise. And this sweet glory fell from the golden wings of the invisible Dove hovering in the atmosphere around that beautiful marriage. SELF-IMPROVEMENT. BY REV. TRYON EDWARDS, D.D., NEW LONDON, CT. Ir language contains one word that should be familiar-one subject we should wish to understand-one end on which we should be bentone blessing we should resolve to make our own -that word, that subject, that end, that blessing should be, in the broadest sense of the expression, self-improvement. This is alike the instinct of nature, the dictate of reason, the demand of religion. It is inwoven with all to which it is possible, either to aspire or to rise. It appeals to us as men--calling us to the highest and noblest end of man-reminding us that God's image is upon us, and that as men we may be great in every possible position of life. It tells us that the grandeur of our nature, if we will but improve it, turns to insignificance all outward distinctions; that our powers of knowing and feeling and loving--of perceiving the beautiful, the true, the right, the good-of knowing God, of acting on ourselves and on external nature, and on our fellow-beings-that these are glorious prerogatives, and that in them all there is no assignable limit to our progress. It reminds us that each one of us is a diamond; and that while, with cultivation, we may attain our highest value and most splendid perfection, without it we shall remain in our roughness, never disclosing our own beauty or worth, never reflecting the glorious light that God is pouring around us. It impresses the thought, that we have something to do for ourselves; that knowledge and wisdom are not to be poured into us, without effort on our part; that we are more than mere receptacles; that we are to reflect as well as read or hear, to ponder what may come before us, and to think for ourselves, and judge for ourselves whether it be right or wrong, and what may be its value and its uses. Books, lectures, social intercourse, appeals from without-these may rouse us to exertion, when without them we might have slumbered forever, unconscious of our own capacities; but they will be worse than useless if we rely on them alone, if we feel as if they were to carry us forward instead of rousing us to go ourselves; worse than useless if we do not digest what they bring before us, thus inweaving it, like food to the body, with our mental and moral life and growth. Depend upon any external means or aids without the exercise of our own powers, and we shall make them but as crutches to us, and ourselves intellectual and moral cripples, and when these are taken away, we shall fall by our own weight, and to our own injury. Let us notice some of the means of self-improvement : 1. We must feel that it is possible. Impossibility is the death of effort. But when a prize is before us, the possibility that it may be ours, should rouse us to the greater effort to grasp it. We are to feel then of self-cultivation, that it is not a dream, but that it has its foundation in our own natures; that others have made vast progress in it, and that we may do the same. We are not to permit our minds, like the caged-up eagle, to pine away and starve by being confined to that which is just about us and already ours; but we are to feel as a reality, that we may make progress to the very end of our being; that we may forever be growing in the high and inspiring consciousness of constant self-improvement. Faith in our own powers, and in the possibility of their growth-faith in the power of effort-faith in God's assistance, that he will ever help us if we help ourselves-this faith, living in the atmosphere of truth, and ever catching glimpses of a distant and divine perfection, will give wings to the soul, on which she may rise forever. We are to feel, then, as a first principle, that there is no limit to the range of our growth-no goal to the progress of the immortal spirit within us. 2. We are also to feel that self-cultivation is important. We are to feel that our dignity and usefulness, and influence and happiness, that our all is involved in it; that without it we are nothing; that with it we may be everything. Well hath the philosopher remarked of man, that "if he neglecteth himself, if he forgetteth the mighty spirit and the godlike soul within him, he stoopeth himself from the converse of angels, to the insects of a day, and the brutes that perish." And applicable to all is the remark made by the poet respecting woman, that when in her he thought he had found SELF-IMPROVEMENT. That makes earth beautiful and bright," "turned and wept to find Beneath it all a trifling mind." 3. We must resolve upon it. Resolution," || says another, "is omnipotent.". And if we will but solemnly determine to make the most and the best of all our powers and capacities, and if to this end, with Wilberforce, we will but "seize upon and improve even the shortest intervals of possible action and effort," we shall find that there is no limit to our advancement. Without this resolute and earnest purpose, the best aids and means are of little worth; but with it, even the weakest are mighty. Without it, we shall accomplish nothing; with it, everything. A man who is deeply in earnest, acts upon the motto of the pick axe on the old seal: “Either I will find a way, or I will make one." He has somewhat the spirit of Bonaparte, who, when told on the eve of battle that circumstances were against him, replied: "Circumstances! I make or control circumstances, not bow to them." In selfcultivation, as in everything else, to think we are able is almost to be so; to resolve to attain is often attainment. Everywhere are the means of progress, if we have but the spirit, the fixed purpose to use them. And if, like the old philosopher, we will but take as our motto: "Higherforever higher," we may rise by them all. He that resolves upon any great, end, by that very resolution has scaled the chief barrier to it; and so he who seizes the grand idea of self-cultivation, and solemnly resolves upon it, will find that idea, that resolution, burning like living fire within him, and ever putting him upon his own improvement. He will find it removing difficulties, searching out or making means, giving courage for despondency, and strength for weakness; and, like the star in the east to the wise men of old, guiding him nearer and still nearer to the sum of all perfection. If we are but fixed and resolute -bent on self-improvement, we shall find means enough to it on every side, and at every moment; and even obstacles and opposition will but make us like the fabled "spectre ships, which sail the fastest in the very teeth of the wind." vation is a matter of slow progress, of patient and 5. We should reverence our own nature. We should remember that we were made for everything that is high, or noble, or excellent. We are to feel that our rational and immortal nature is worth more than all the material universe, and that we may make it worth far more than it now is. We are to feel that we are men, and that God's image is upon us; and we are to cultivate ourselves, because we are men, and because that image is upon us--because we are forever to exist, and because we may rise higher and shine brighter forever. 4. We are to go to it by degrees-with patient and persevering effort. Many, when circumstances have turned their attention to self-improve- 6. We should seek the intercourse of superior ment, and while the glowing picture is before minds. Not that we should depend on those; them, often make excellent and sometimes pro- for our own activity and effort are essential to digious resolutions. But because they do not, as our progress. But we should rouse, and inform, by a leap, at once become perfect, they are soon and stimulate our own minds by frequent contact ready to give up the effort in despair. For such, and intercourse with those whose minds are supefor all, it were well to remember, that self culti-rior to our own. Many such we may find in the |