Obrazy na stronie



From the London Imperial Magazine.

On the happy vale and the quiet hill. THE VALLEY OF THE SEASONS.

At break of day my dew-drops shine

On the rose, and lily, and eglantine. " These as they change, almighty Father, these

The peasant goes forth to his work, and beholds
Are but the varied God."

All that the hand of Spring unfolds.

He joins the lark in his morning hymn, “Follow me,” said the sage, “and I will lead thee

And prays to that God who hath succord him;

When evening comes, he renews his vow to the valley of the seasons.” I obeyed my conductor,

Of thanks, when he sees the color'd bow, and he brought me to an eminence, from whence look

That arches and melts while I gladden the plain ing down, I beheld a vale beautiful as Thessalian Tem With precious drops of the early rain. pe. “Let us descend the hill,” said the old man, “and “The spirit which now advances,” said my compansit down by yonder fountain; from thence we shall per-ion, “is the genius of the soft winds. She wears a ceive the seasons and their attendants; listen attentive-crown of seven stars. With a plume of the ostrich ly to their songs, and I will explain to you the duties she rules the gales of spring. At her command they of each spirit, as it passes by.” We descended to the waft the seeds of plants and flowers across the earth, fountain, and sitting down on the turfy bank, beheld and scatter them in desert places, so that the waste four beautiful females, each of whom was surrounded ground is glad and flourishes.” by many attendants. The principal figures glided after

THE GENIUS OF THE SOFT WINDS. each other in a wreathed dance, and the sylphic crowd

Swiftly over the vale below wove their mazy path among them. “The four chief

My fleecy gondola glideth ;

And mounteth above the rocky brow, spirits which thou seest,' said my interpreter, "are the

Where the proud eagle abideth. genü of the seasons; and the others are their messen

Ariel, as I sweep along, gers, which are sent forth, each at the appointed hour,

His fairy horn is blowing, to minister the blessings of the Highest to all the king

A white cloud is my gonfalon, doms of the earth. Behold," continued he, “the one

Over the valleys flowing. which advances towards us; she has a chaplet of wild

Where the sun is nigh to the west,

And the linnet is hastening home, flowers on her ivory brow, her countenance is beautiful

And the crow wings her way to her airy nest, as the blush of opening morn, and her white garments

To some favor'd spot of the earth I come. float chastely on the balmy gale. It is Spring; she soars

By a silver river sitting, over the mountains, shedding her dews, and flies through

Hark to the music that rolleth along, the valleys, dropping her flowers; she scatters beauti Froin the skiff with white sails flitting, ful foliage on the forests, and clothes the hills with ver

'Tis the boatman singing his evening song, dure. She approaches; you will hear her sing."

From the lonely watch-lower,

And the castle's turreted height,

There comes, on the breeze of the midnight hour,
Here in my garden, I fly, I fly,

The watchman's voice-All's well-Good night.
Gathering blossoms and early flowers;
The first pale primrose I can espy,

When this spirit had passed, many others glided be-
And the jasmine that peeps from the shady bowers, fore us, on whom my conductor made no observation.
I gather them both, and fly and fly,

Of these, one held a green blade of corn, a second car-
Where nectarean dew distills,
Then on the clouds of heaven Ilie,

ried a variety of beautiful blossoms, and a third had a To water the valleys and little hills.

wreath of wild flowers on her head, and a pastoral Over the earth I fly, I fly,

crook in her hand. Then appeared a beautiful form, Smiling upon the furrowed land,

having her golden locks gathered into a silken net, and The seeds burst open wherever they lie,

a band of roses bound on her brow. Her laughing And nature looks happy on every hand. Unto the folds I fly, I dy,

blue eyes, her glowing cheek, the swelling of her pure

bosom, which the faint lawn vailed but did not conceal, To bring forth the young of the laden dams, And the green fields echo as I pass by,

exhibited a vision of female loveliness not to be deWith the bleatinge of sheep and the playful lambs. scribed. She reclined on a cloud of odors, and held in The genius of the spring went by, and another spirit her hand a wand of gold. “This,” said the sage, “is approached us, wearing a coronet of pearls: she held the genius of summer. She goes forth to mature the an urn in her two hands, and her rainbow-colored wings | fruits of the earth, that the promises of Spring may be were wet with dew. “This,” said my guide, “is the answered by the gifts of Autumn." genius of the showers; she is the favorite companion of Spring, and follows closely after her, sprinkling the

I come from the Lybian plain; earth at intervals with water from her silver urn.”

The king of beasts fled before me:
I way'd my wand o'er the lion,

And he retired.
Nightly I go to the coral cell,
Where the spirits of the waters dwell.

I have been where the serpents are;
And oft as I visit their ocean cave,

I looked on them, and they shrunk They fill me this urn from their own blue wave;

Back into the brakes and thickets: Drops such as these there are none-there are none

The great serpents ! Save in that fountain stream alone.

Ify o'er the sandy desert; O they are beautiful as they distill,

The camel sinks under his load :












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The pilgrim faints ere he can reach

Till, spent with toils, he lighted in the west,
The water springs.

The shepherd daily watch'd his fleecy throng,
I visit the temperate climes :

And cheer'd them with his pipe and rural song.
The peasants cast aside their coats;

Long he had lived unknowing and unknown,
And smiling girls help them to turn

Contented, though obscure; and happy, though alone,
The new-mown hay.

He had no thought of beauty, wealth, or fame,
The shepherd drives his bleating flock

A simple rustic boy, and Lycidas his name.
To the sheepfold, and the shearer

But lately, as the bleating dock he led
Clips the cumbrous fleece from their backs

Al even to the neighboring fountain's head,
With sounding shears.

Lo, a bright virgin by the water stood;
The youths and maidens leave the fields,

He knelt and hail'd the genius of the flood.
And rest beneath a spreading tree,

No goddess she, though one of heavenly race;
They dance under its shady boughs

A crimson hue suffus'd her lovely face.
In the iwilight.

Oppress'd with shame, her eyes to earth were cast, The old man bade me look on the right hand. I

She caught her spotless robe, and fled in haste.

Her name Narcissa, Arcas' royal maid, obeyed, and beheld a dark cloud, which opened and

She at this hour had sought the cooling shade. discovered a female figure sitting in a pearly car; she had on her head a coronet of the water-lily, and held

But in the moment she had left the flood, an ivory sceptre, having the lotus flower on the top.

To Lycidas, confest, the maiden stood. “Behold,” exclaimed the sage, “the genius of the wa

Often he wanders to that hallow'd stream, ter streams, the most benevolent of spirits. She brings

And stands entranc'd in love's delirious dream; the little rivulets from a thousand hills, and they flow

Or sitting at Orexis' foot, complains among the valleys. The traveler drinketh of her brook

Of pastoral life; but pipe or rural strains on the way, and lifteth up his head. Her fountains are Delight no more. Within his untaught breast

He finds a strange, but not unpleasing guest : filled with pure water; some of which are hidden in the chaste recesses of the grove, and there the shepherdess bathes in unrobed innocence. All nature is re But dares not hope that such elysian joy freshed by the cooling streams which distill copiously Is in reserve for him-a shepherd boy. from the clefted rock, at the touch of her sceptre.” A losty spirit was now approaching us, and the rush

ing of his wings was like the noise of a cataract. His Come away from the sultry beam

eyes were piercing as the lightnings, and his gaze could To the grot and the cooling water stream;

not be endured; yet I perceived that his countenance While the orb of the sun rolls on

varied: at this moment it was benevolent, and in the Up heaven's steep to the point of noonWhen the listless shepherd at length is laid,

next it threatened destruction. At first it appeared to And the panting flocks lie down in the shade.

me that his right hand was flaming, but, on his nearer When the hills are scorched and the verdant meads

approach, I perceived that he held in it an avenging And the flowers of the valley hang their heads,

sword. In his left hand he carried an olive branch, Then come away from the sultry beam To the grot and the cooling water stream.

His wings were distended for flight, but his feet rested

on the thunder cloud. I hastily inquired of my guide Fainting traveler, turn thee aside From the trackless desert that opens wide;

the name of the mighty spirit before us. “ It is the Give the reign to thy camel, and he will bring

genius of the thunder-storm," said he; "he is the terThee wearied and saint to the water spring.

ror of the sons of men, when power is given him from Then in the shade of the palm-tree lie,

above to smite with the sword of almighty vengeance. That vails the sun and the scorching sky; And wait till the dawn of early day,

Then the palaces of kings, and the cottages of poor Before thou resume thy desolate way;

men, fall together; the high places are thrown down, Then haste o'er the sands, that the march may be done

and the beautiful city is made a heap of stones. Then Before the heat of the day comes on.

the mighty ones of the earth tremble, and perceive that “Lycidas, the Arcadian,” said the old man, “fed his there is a God on the earth. But so great is the divine flock at the foot of Orexis. He was humble and hap

mercy, that not often will it permit this spirit to go forth py, kind-hearted and beloved. But in an evil hour

a destroyer. Even while he launches the shaft of the ambitious love took possession of his heart, and render-rapid lightnings, and calls to the muttering thunders, ed him a prey to melancholy and discontent. Listen, which then re-echo through the caverns of the earth, while I repeat the traditional history which is told of and roll along the vault of heaven;—even then he is him, and learn to adapt your desires to your circum- | bid to shake the olive over the land; and, so far from stances, and to wish for nothing which your situation injuring mankind, to give them a blessing in the storm. in life renders unattainable.”

He purifies our atmosphere with the lightning, and deLYCIDAS, (AN ECLOGUE.)

stroys the pestilential and unwholesome vapors, whose Where high Orexis lifts its awsul brow,

pestiferous breath would else blight the fruits of the Begirt with clouds which hide the vale below, Whose giant shadow, as the sun descends,

earth, and scatter disease on man and beast.” With stealthy pace o'er all the land extends, The Arcadian sat; what time Apollo strung

He who sitteth above the water-flood, His mighty bow, and shining quiver slung,

Earth his footstool, the outstreched heavens his lent,





Who hath remained on his throne a king

And yet their heavenly Father doth bestow
For ever and ever.

Sufficient for their use; he fills their hands
He hath clothed mine arm with mighty power,

From his own garners: thus his blessings flow

For all mankind, the mighty and the low.
Th’ Eternal, high and lifted up, above
The sons of men hath prepard the thunder

Theirs is the happiness without alloy,
And the rapid lightnings.

The grateful duties of the harvest done,

Who shout loud carol, and their songs of joy, He filleth his store-house with the hail-stones;

Returning from the field, what time the moon The Lord of hosts mustereth the battle:

Shines beautiful; the generous master leads The avenging sword, the shield, and the spear,

Where the full board his numerous guests employ, He giveth unto me.

The laugh and joke go round, and pleasure spreads, He commandeth the storm, and I depart;

Till thankful, they arise, and seek their quiet beds. The black clouds rise above the lofty hills,

The next spirit who approached us was crowned And stretch over the vale which lies beneath, And the rain descendeth.

with cypress, and held in her hand an oaken branch,

whose withered leaves fell, and strewed her path as she The ocean rocketh from its lowest bed; The lightnings enter into the dark cave;

swept along. “This," said the old man, “is the genius The earth is removed froin her foundations,

of the falling leaves. Her countenance, and her emAt the voice of the thunders.

ployment, are mournful alike. She casts a melancholy The roarings of wild beasts fill the forest :

and desolate glance on the forests and the green vales, They who dwell in cities look on each other;

and the beauties of nature fade beneath her awful gaze. The mariner is afraid at the storm,

Let mankind attend to the lesson which her duties inAnd seeketh the haven.

culcate, and remember that nothing earthly endureth The voice of the Lord calms the elements,

for ever. Neither should they forget, that she only The thunders and lightnings and the rain cease; The clouds break and depart, and the earth smiles, wraps the fields in transient gloom: Spring will return For the tempest is past.

to scatter her blossoms and flowers on the desolate A spirit of benevolent aspect now appeared. Her earth. The dreariness of autumn, and the ravages of brow was bound with a wreath of vine leaves, and the winter, will be repaired by the sweet influence of the juice of the grape stained her temples. She had invernal sun.” one hand a sickle, and in the other a few wheat ears. She was attended by two beautiful spirits, one of whom

Hast thou not heard the autumn blast, bore the cornucopia, from which the most rich and lux Sweep moaningly along,

Like a sad spirit that hath pass'd, uriant fruits were continually falling; the other spirit

Unblest by the funeral song? carried no emblems of her office, but her countenance

Hast thou not seen, as the cold wind blew, wore a look of angelic loveliness. “Behold," said the

The star-beam of the night, sage, “the genius of the autumn, and adore the benefi

Fitfully shining in heaven's deep blue, cent Being who hath commanded her to render the Through her curtain of clouds of fleecy white ? fruits of the earth in their season. All these whom

And where lay the pride of the forest tree, thou seest are but the servants of the Highest; it is And the lowly shrub that grew around 3 theirs to execute the behests only of one far mightier

The blast which blew so drearily

Had scatter'd their beauty on the ground. than they are. Therefore, whilst thou admirest and reverencest these beautiful ministers, remember that

You could not take up one fallen leaf,

And seek to find the parent bough, they are only ministers of Him who ordaineth both the

Without an impression of strong belief early and the latter rain, and changeth the times and

That all as they lay were equal now. the seasons. Plenty attends upon autumn, and pours

Before my chill and piercing breath on every hand the blessings of Omnipotence; she points

The tree and shrub alike must wither, to the folds full of sheep, and to the waving valleys, And the autumn of life, and the blast of death, which stand so thick with corn, that they both laugh

Will lay the sons of men together. and sing. Happiness also is in her train; that chaste And who shall take of the mold'ring clay, happiness, whose smile beameth on the heart when the

And say of it, this was a king ?

For when the spirit hath gone away, hungry soul is filled, and the drink of the thirsty faileth

The body is nought but a perishing thing. not."

The trees, which seem so withered and dead, AUTUMN. 'Tis sweet when the fruits of the earth are rise,

A spirit of life retain, To see pre-eminent o'er blessings given,

And in the spring they will lift the head, And foremost in a grateful holy strife,

And blossom forth again. The yellow harvest bow its head to heaven:

And the soul who hath pass'd to her transient rest, The reaper resting in the heat of noon,

In hope and in peace with the Giver, Beneath some friendly shade, nor until even

Shall arise at the last to the fields of the blest, Holds her cool urn i' th' air, and day be gone,

And flourish for ever and ever. Renews his labor by the friendly moon.

A spirit, severe in countenance, succeeded to the last. 'Tis sweet to see the poor ones pick the grain,

Her form was hid in the numerous folds of her dark The crumbs which fall from their rich masters' hands, Sharers in common with the feathered train,

robe. Extending her bloodless arm, she held towards They gather not in barns, nor crop the lands;

us a withered branch covered with the hoar frost.

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“This is Winter,” said my guide, “a spirit whose influ But presently we get to read the man, and we find ence is still more withering than that of the last. Ob-him indued with a refinement of the softest natureserve how languidly the stream flows at her approach ; || and beyond that the refinement of grace, controlling, the flowers droop upon their stalks, and the music of and guiding, and guarding his actions and his words. the feathered songsters is hushed.”

And now that we are initiated into the character, do

we surely find him what he really is, and we are thoI come not to deform the year,

roughly convicted of our misapprehension.
Nor wasting ruin spread,

Still the narrative shows us that his greatness was
Nor cast the freezing snow-storm drear
Upon th' unsheller'd head

built upon his activity, his zeal, his benevolence of deed, Unbid of Him who rules alone

and of performance. Not accounting words, although Above, beneath the sky,

he gave many of these, seasonable to others, not sparing The first, the last, the eternal one, Mightier far than I.

of self, for more than their comparative value. His

disinterestedness constituted, as in all characters it must, He bids me touch the streams that flow, And bind in icy chains;

the measure of his greatness. True it is that he acted At his command I shed the snow,

his mission; for with a frail tenement he possessed an Which covers all the plains;

indomitable vigor of soul; and this, as far as his life And loose the storiny winds that beat

extended, he gave to and expended in the Church. Upon the humble shed, Where, in his cheerless, rude retreat,

In reading, I am again and again, and ever charmed The wanderer makes his bed.

with the eloquence of St. Paul. I have even to pause Ye desolate, who shrink beneath

and admonish myself, that although eloquence was, beThe cold and wintry blast,

yond all doubt, eminently his, yet the great difference Ye feel the bitterness of death,

betwixt him and his coadjutors—the matter in which But soon it will be past. There is a land of joy and peace,

he outran and excelled them all-was, beyond this, not 'Tis where the seraphim sing;

that “he had not two coats;" that he “ate and drank For there the winter's storm gives place

where he could, or fasted at need;" that he admonished, To an eternal spring.

consoled, and prayed with the poor, the sick, the miser“They are gone,” said I, in a tone of sorrow: “there able, and the wicked; not that he was determined to is the valley, but its inhabitants are fled.” They are know nothing, save Jesus Christ and his righteousgone,” answered the old man; “but let not the lesson|ness,” but it was that he gave himself—not spiritually they have taught us depart with them. All things are alone—not his heart and voice—but that he exerted his in his hand whose praise they seek;' not a leaf falls to entire being in the service of God—that he, by the aid the ground unseen of the Creator. Remember this in of the Spirit, commuted his energy into its living type the hour of repining and discontent; be grateful for the of successive being! And even such was Wilbur good bestowed, and be patient under the evil inflicted; Fisk; and so-appropriating the contributions of other and learn to perceive, in every occurrence of human men's dollars to the purposedid he. He endowed the life, the directing influence of the God of the seasons." || school and the college-also a gratuitous class of thir


tywith his own spiritual existence; for he founded, he planted, and watered these seminaries—which labor

of love and of life, surviving Christians, whilst they Original.

mourn him, shall foster and sustain—not forgetting his WILBUR FISK.

relict, nor, that, amidst all his labors, almost the sole Mr. HAMLINE,—The book loaned I have read to provision that is made for her, was that, on his deathedification; yet do I think it requires some special con- bed, and near to his last, he agrees to the proposal, that sideration, which will occur in the course of reading his papers, being collected, may, in the form of a Biogthe biography, before we become impressed with theraphy,* afford to her the means of subsistence, and “s0 superiority of the character. (You know that I have be it.

B. never seen the individual, having lived remote from him.) Not do I mean in regard to his having a superior degree of piety of superinduced grace, to his

Truth and reason, in this mixed state of good and asking and his seeking; for the most desultory reader evil, are not invariably triumphant over falsehood and will accord him that ; but I mean that you have to look error; but even when laboring under a temporary deamidst his acts and performances, I may say achieve feat, the two former bear within them one stamp of suments, before you get the full idea how important he periority which plainly indicates that Omnipotence is was. I refer to the plainness of his language; (this on their side; for their worthy conquerors for such a little notice of self, perhaps originates in greatness;) victory, universally retire abashed, enlightened, self-rewhilst there is no touch of vulgarity, in word, or phrase, proved, and exclaiming with Pyrıhus, a few more such yet is there a sort of commonness, just like what many victories and we are undone. others might have used, which at first gives the reader a

* The Life of Wilbur Fisk," published at New York, 1842. sort of disappointment, as emanating from a high and For sale at the Methodist Book Concern, Cincinnati, and distinguished source.

doubtless, also, at other places.

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excursion, or is abroad among her friends. House.

holds have been broken up by such conjugal impru-

A woman should never marry a man for conveniThe duties of the wife may be reduced to three gen-ence. It is base in the extreme. She may do it witheral classes; viz., affection, reverence, and faithfulness. |out personal contamination in the view of the world,

1. The wife is to give the husband her affections. but not in the sight of God. If urged by parental The duties of the married pair are reciprocal. The cupidity or ambition to such a covert prostitution, her Bible commands the husband to love the wife. Surely, perpetration of the crime may be partly excused; but then, the wife is bound to love her husband. “Let even then it cannot be justified. Under such a vile every one of you in particular so love his wife as him- influence she shall be pitied, and the execrations which self.” Why the precept is not addressed to the wife as light upon her shall be softened; but let them fall in well as to the husband we cannot say. It would be unmitigated severity upon the parents who decoyed rather gallant than otherwise to assume that the inspired and betrayed the unresisting victim. penman deemed woman's affections incapable of aliena If any reader is in this condition, married to one tion; yet it is true that her domestic attachments are who does not possess her heart, as far as any creature exceedingly ardent and enduring.

may possess it, let her seclude herself from the world, The parties to the marriage covenant “are no more and especially from the companionship of those who twain, but one flesh.” Their union is the most sacred are attractive, and apply herself to the Father of all and binding amongst mortals. It is used to set forth mercies, that he will be pleased to control her affecthe union between Christ and his Church. It bindstions, and incline them towards those objects which the husband to love his wife “even as Christ loved the duty as well as interest obliges her to love. Had Church;" and in turn it obliges the wife to love her Calista done this, she would have saved herself a world husband as the sanctified Church loves the Savior. So of sorrow. Racinus paid his addresses to her in her far as earthly objects are concerned, the bridal, like the bright and heedless girlhood. After a long and intimate marital affections, should be supreme. They should be acquaintance they were “engaged." They loved each stronger than the filial or the maternal.

other well. But Lucinda, with fewer charms, (except The wife's affections should be more ardent than the of family and fortune,) came between them. Racinus daughter's. This is Scriptural: “For this cause shall did not forget Calista, or his promises; but ambition supa man leave his father and mother, and shall cleave planted love. He pursued and won Lucinda. Calista unto his wife.” Why? Because “they two shall be spent her youth in binding up her wounds; and after one flesh;" that is, the bonds of wedlock shall be years of mortifying sadness, she at length gave her stronger than those which nature has created between hand to Lester. He was worthy, but did not possess her the child and the parent. This applies equally to the heart. She would not disguise her feelings, nor seek man and the woman; and in accordance with the prin- by grace a proper state of mind. Racinus lived their ciple, the woman leaves father and molher to go any neighbor; and the frequent visits of the families served where—into distant climes, if circumstances demand to keep awake in her unhappy bosom feelings inconsisit—to dwell with her husband. Conjugal love con tent with the relation she sustained. The result was quers all earthly loves, and tears its devotee from the fatal. True, she never faltered in outward duty to her most endeared scenes. One affection only can con- husband; but perceiving that another held possession quer it in tur—that is the love of Jesus. The hus- of her heart, and that he had no place in her affections, band can say to his wife, “She who loves father or he became careless and desponding—sought to drown mother, or brother or sister, or child, more than me, is reflection in the bowl-became a gambler, a bankrupt, not worthy of me;" but Christ only can say, she that and a drunkard, and died the victim of his wife's incorloveth husband more than me, is not worthy of me. | rigible neglect and disaffection. Poor woman! She And from this we infer that she is blame-worthy who, had borne her husband an only child; and in the forhaving a husband and a home, spends a great portion | tunes of her daughter the mother endured retaliating of her time with her friends. I know a young wife woes. But what they were we trust the reader to conand matron who leaves her husband in solitude, and, jecture, and instead of the recital will leave a decent with her little children, spends about one month in blank. three amidst a large circle of her connections. Had The mother should not expect her child to regard the she seriously applied herself to understand her duty, or filial more sacredly than herself does the conjugal relaeven to secure her own interests, she would pursue tion. another course. What can she expect? May not her The wife's love must be pure as well as ardent. But husband conclude that she married him for conve- nothing is pure that belongs to human nature. Even nience-not because love moved her to the union? He the conjugal affections need to be regenerated. What sees that she gives him merely so much of her time as a love that was which Mrs. Fletcher bore her husband ! would render her a burden to her relatives. To help How intimately did it blend with her attachment to the out his conclusion, she appears melancholy in his soci- Savior! She saw in him the image of her Christ, and ety, and is cheerful only when she is starting on an ll loving Christ, she loved his image. There is a sacred

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