THE STUDY OF THE BIBLE. guilty too. Sarah, Rebecca, and Rachel, wives of the most celebrated of the patriarchs, are noticed at considerable length. A brief account is also given of Miriam, the prophetess, and joint leader with Moses and Aaron of the Israelites in their journeyings from Egypt to the land of promise. In the life of Ruth there is a passage, which, as expressive of selfsacrificing love, is too interesting to be passed over unnoticed. Naomi was a Jewess. She, with her husband and two sons, had left Judea on account of a famine, and taken up their residence in Moab. After the death of her husband, her sons were united in marriage to Orpha and Ruth, women of Moab. Some years after, her sons having died, she concluded to return to her native land. As her daughtersin-law would be strangers in Judea, and probably destitute and unprotected, she affectionately advised them to remain with their kindred, and piously invoked the blessing of Heaven upon them. Orpha, after much entreaty, was induced to remain; "but Ruth clave unto her." Naomi expostulated with her. "Behold," said she, "thy sister-in-law is gone back unto her people, and unto her gods: return thou after thy sister-in-law. But Ruth said, Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee; for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God: where thou diest I will die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and much more, also, if aught but death part thee and me." Mention is also made of Deborah, the poetess, and of Mary, the most highly favored of women, in being the mother of Jesus-of Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus, whom Jesus loved-of the industrious and benevolent Dorcas, who was raised to life by Peter of the pious Lydia, whose heart the Lord opened, and of many others distinguished for their intelligence and virtues. But of all the biographies of the Bible, there is none like that of Jesus. Here is our only perfect pattern. While reading his life, we may always yield ourselves up to the influence of his examplewe may drink into his spirit; and the more we do this, the better shall we be prepared to live; for "his life is our example," and to walk in his footsteps, is to fulfill our highest destiny. The history of the Bible. As a book of history the Bible is unique. In its narratives and prophecies, it may be regarded as an epitome of the world's history. It begins with Adam, and closes with the last of the human race. But, without pausing upon this interesting subject, I pass to notice, The morals and religion of the Bible. But it is for its moral and religious instructions that the Bible is chiefly to be prized. There is no other book which inculcates so pure a code of morals, or teaches them so well. It contains the only system of true religion, and is the only divinely authorized standard of that. Many of the sages of antiquity wrote upon VOL. VI.-14 105 the subject of morals. Some of them were men of as extensive research and profound thought as the world has ever produced. In their writings which have been preserved, there is much that is excellent; but all of their systems are radically defective. They but too clearly show that their authors were but fallible men, and without an unerring standard by which to test their codes. They also lack authority. It is not enough for man to know his duty, or to be urged to its performance by one of like passions with himself. Plato and Socrates may speak; but they speak as men and to men. Some higher power must give authority to their law. Nothing short of a "thus saith the Lord," will secure obedience to a law which is holy, just, and good, so prone is human nature to that which is evil. As to human religions-and their name is legionthey all proclaim, with mournful emphasis, that man is lost a wanderer from God; that the crown is fallen from his head; that the glory of his primeval state is departed. In these he is seen groping his way in darkness, seeking after God, if haply he may feel after him and find him; while, in almost hopeless despair, he is heard exclaiming, "Behold, I go forward, but he is not there; and backward, but I cannot perceive him: on the left where he doeth his work, but I cannot behold him: he hideth himself on the right hand, that I cannot see him." But the Bible dispels this darkness. "Here light descending from above, Directs our doubtful feet." Walking by this light, the path of the just becometh brighter and brighter, until "The things unknown to feeble sense, Unseen by reason's glimm'ring ray, Here man learns his nature, his duty, and his destiny. He becomes acquainted with his true moral state, with the provisions of the Gospel, with God, and the service and worship he requires. In short, he here finds every truth necessary to make him wise unto salvation, to qualify him for doing his duty, and to prepare him for enjoyment here and hereafter. Such are some of the excellences of the Bible-nay, more; for, alas! but too feebly have I been able to portray them. But if, in any degree, I have increased your interest in this precious volume, I rejoice. May it lead you to peruse more frequently its sacred pages! And O, while you read, may that Spirit by whom its truths were inspired, apply them to your hearts, to the saving of your souls! I close as I began, with the divine injunction, "SEARCH THE SCRIPTURES:" "Yea, search them; for in them thou'lt surely find Knowledge most precious, words of life and lightWisdom, surpassing all of human kind, And virtue that will yield thee pure delight- Will cheer thy heart, and all thy soul illume." AMIABLENESS. BY REV. ALLEN WILEY. WILL the fair readers of the Repository permit a new correspondent to converse briefly with them on an important subject? That subject, to them especially important, is amiableness. But what does that clumsy word mean? It is English born, but of foreign origin, claiming a Roman parentage, and is of the second generation, being the Anglicized Latin amabilitas, which claims descent from amabilis, which comes to us in a French form, amiable, and that from amo, I love. We discover, then, that it means something which is, or ought to be, loved. But no person or thing is, or, at least, ought to be loved, that does not possess something which is lovely or worthy of being loved. Amiableness, then, is that quality which renders a human being worthy or suitable to be loved; and that quality is a combination of many excellences. { well can never be deemed lovely. When we survey this fallen world, with all its crimes to be forgiven, and its miseries to be pitied and relieved, we must say that woman, who has had her share in the crimes of the world, and more than her share in its miseries, must be unnatural without benevolence. Indeed, she must resemble lost spirits, who have no kind and sympathetic feelings, amid all their dreadful and protracted woes. Benevolence will make its possessor quick to discern the miseries of others, and deeply sympathetic in their sufferings, and prompt to mitigate, and, if possible, remove their sorrows. Even the instinct of nature has taught us to look for this kindly feeling in woman's heart; for, when we were in trouble in childhood's days, instead of going to our rugged fathers with our griefs, we sought to fall in the laps of our mothers, where we could weep without reproach, and find the sympathetic tear and kind embraces to soothe our throbbing hearts. Patience is indispensable. She who cannot bear the unavoidable calamities of life without murmuring and repining, is not likely to be esteemed amiable, because she will sour her own temper, and vex, and grieve, and torture others. Woman should regard her multiform afflictions as the chastening rod of a kind and heavenly Father, who wills to make her wise, and good, and useful, and happy. And shall she spurn the chastening, and disregard the hand that inflicts it? Surely not; and if she do, she will forfeit all claim to amiableness. Stoicism and patience are not identical. The one is a sullen, An agreeable countenance is of importance. O, but I have not the making of my countenance, consequently, this item in the thing is not a matter of choice with me! Be not so hasty in your conclusion, my friend. I know that it is not a matter of choice with you, whether you shall have large or small eyes, a large or a small nose, a large or a small mouth, thick or thin lips, black or auburn hair and eyebrows, a round or a square built face, dark or fair skin. All these, however, are not the countenance. That is something which has its origin in the feelings of the heart; and with all the disadvan-beastly stubborness, which has nothing lovely about tages of what we call homely features, the amiable lady will have a pleasant countenance, while all the advantages of well-formed features will never give an agreeable countenance to a wicked woman. once heard a sensible person make the following remark, in reference to a man who was the subject of conversation, "He has such a countenance as God Almighty never made," meaning, that the vileness of the man's heart had marred his Maker's work. So sure as murder will out, will a bad heart ultimately make its stamp on the face of a fair lady. I Virtue is indispensable. That virtue which is as pure as the beams of the sun, and will not permit even incipient suspicion to come near its sacred shrine. I mean that virtue of the heart which not only preserves purity of life, but which makes the imagination, the thoughts, the desires, the words, the actions, such as would become angels before the throne of God. Let none, however innocent in life, suppose that evil thoughts and desires will not show themselves in many ways, and soon be discerned by the good judge of human nature, and then the fair one will have lost all claim to amiableness. Benevolence is indispensable. The very etymology of this word, which means willing well, shows the importance of the thing; for she who does not will it. The other has a keen perception and acute feeling of all the evils to which flesh is heir; but it makes the sufferer able and willing to say, they are not the results of chance, and I will bear them with calmness and resignation. Prudence in conversation is indispensable. This has reference to the matter and manner of conversation. All scandal and unkindness of conversation should be avoided, because they are calculated to defile the lips, pollute the heart, vitiate the mind, and embitter the temper. No truly good-natured and benevolent female, will willingly talk about the failings and faults of others. She has such a deep sense of her own infirmities and dangers, that her tongue is restrained from evil speaking. None but the malevolent and envious can retail scandal or talk reproachfully. The prudent female will not talk loud nor fast. When a woman talks loud, we involuntarily conclude she is what the Romaus called a virago, or manlike woman in her feelings, and would bear rule, and play the tyrant if she could. When we hear a woman talk very fast, and in rather a careless manner, we think she is wanting in thoughtfulness, and fear she has not a tender conscience; for a thoughtful mind and a good conscience, will take time to weigh words and the THE TREE OF LIFE, thoughts expressed by them. A woman of prudence in conversation, will converse on such subjects as are calculated to make herself and others wiser and better, and she will do it in a calm, deliberate, and conscientious manner. Piety is indispensable. I know there may be the semblance of amiableness, where there is no decided piety. So far as amiable tempers and dispositions are concerned, they may exist in a forming and immature state where piety is not, but they need the grace of piety to give them maturity and permanent loveliness. Without piety we have no assurance, that what is sweet and charming to-day, will be so to-morrow; for adversity's blight may come, and then all that was pleasant by nature, may become wormwood and gall. How can we regard that female as entitled to the claim of amiableness, whose heart is alien from God and holiness? Surely she who disregards the will of her Maker and Judge, is more defective than she imagines. THE TREE OF LIFE. FOR centuries, mankind have thought the tree of life an indigenous plant of earth. Hence, from every land, we hear echoed, and re-echoed, "Ho! here's the tree of life, come, eat, and live for ever." But the soil of earth is too cold and barren, to sustain this "plant of renown." It stands upon the plains of Eden, and spreads its branches around the throne of God. Watered by the "river of life," and warmed by the "Sun of righteousness," "it yields its fruit every month, and its leaves are for the healing of the nations." Since man's apostasy from God, he strives to find a substitute for this tree; seeking for life among the shades of death. And how often does he find that "a bad tree cannot bring forth good fruit," and that "men do not gather figs from thistles, nor grapes from thorns." Mad with disappointment, he makes an effort to destroy the tree of life. *To root it out, and wither it from earth, Hell strives with all its strength, and blows with all Its blasts; and sin, with cold consumptive breath, Involves it still in clouds of mortal damp." Infidelity breathes upon it her pestilential vapors, in hope to dry up its leaves, destroy its virtue, and cut off the hopes of man for ever. But why this hatred-this opposition to the heavenly tree? Why not pluck and eat, that we may prove its virtue, before we strive to kill? The soul desires a feast. It asks and longs for something more than earth can yield. The world secures to us vexation, pain, and death. God our Savior, as he would not have us perish, points us to the tree of life, "and bids our longing appetites the rich provision taste." the tree "That bears the only fruit of true delight; This is 107 And though we be "stung by the scorpion sin," or under the influence of a "deadly moral plague," yet this sacred tree has virtue sufficient to effect a perfect cure. The wounded soul shall feel its power, and its luxuriant fruit shall satisfy our immortal desires. No cherubim, or flaming sword, are found to guard this holy tree; so that all, who will, may eat, and live for evermore. H. GILMORE. PAUL BEFORE AGRIPPA. BY WILLIAM BAXTER. THE royal court is gather'd now, The king is seated on his throne, The door flies wide, the guards retire, The chained apostle stands alone, The galling chain is on his hand, The seal of lofty thought is set. He speaks! what high and burning thoughts, Are on each list'ner's mind impressedWhat fearless eloquence is his What wondrous zeal inspires his breast. He seems no prisoner now; but stands, And, as some heaven sent one, commands. That throng quail 'neath his words of power, Who once addressed him from the sky. The king himself seems deeply mov'd, All mark his troubled, anxious brow: Happy Agrippa! hadst thou turned, And laid thy regal honors by, Are found at God's right hand on high, They parted; but such holy thoughts Ne'er swelled that monarch's breast again; Repentant tears ne'er cleansed his soul, From sin and its polluting stain. The pris'ner freely shed his blood, A martyr for the truth and God. 108 PROTESTANTISM AND ROMANISM CONTRASTED. PROTESTANTISM AND ROMANISM CONTRASTED. BY G. P. DISOSWAY. PROTESTANTISM. he said to those around him, "Fly! it is my life THE celebrated and brave Gaspard de Coligny, was the first nobleman in France who ever boldly professed himself a Protestant, and the patron of the Protestants. He was the leader of the Huguenotsthe chief of their association, or, as he was generally styled, in his day, the "Admiral of Chatillon;" and upon him Heaven conferred the immortal honor of becoming the first martyr to the holy cause of religion, in that awful drama of the St. Bartholomew massacre. Charles IX, an apt son of that intriguing and incarnate evil, Catharine de Medicis, had now attained his majority, and was on the throne. She was the actual mistress and ruler of the kingdom-balmed and sent to the Pope. The venerable and an Italian not more in lineage than in her subtilty and cunning. Open violence and bloody, persecuting warfare had not succeeded against her Protestant subjects. She now resorted to treachery and deceit. To unite, as it was pretended, the reformed and the Roman religions, the court proposed a marriage between Margaret, who was the King's sister, and Henry, the young Protestant prince of the blood. Nothing could exceed the magnificence of the nuptial festivities, which were celebrated on a platform before the church of Notre Dame, and in the presence of a royal, splendid company from both religious parties. During the four succeeding days, all Paris was occupied with fetes, ballets, and other gayeties, and the greatest attentions were paid to the unsuspecting Huguenots. Coligny, generous and unsuspicious of any danger, a day or two after the marriage, was suddenly fired upon, and severely wounded by two bullets, one entering his arm, and the other shattering his finger. His sufferings were severe; but he endured them with heroic patience; and whilst the surgeons amputated one of his fingers, he desired his chaplain to read consolatory passages from the holy Scriptures. Once he exclaimed, "My God, abandon me not in this suffering, nor let thy mercy forsake me!" and ordered one hundred pieces of gold to be distributed among the poor of his church. mangled corpse of the Admiral, dragged three days through the streets, was at last hung on a public gibbet at Montfaucon. Thus suffered and THUS died Gaspard de Coligny! ROMANISM. Other bells answered that of St. Germain; and from this moment the destruction became universal and indiscriminate. The perfidious monarch, with an oath, had declared "the death of the Admiralthe destruction of the whole party within the bounds of France!" What pen can describe the scenes and horrors of that fatal night! Mine shall not attempt the mournful task. The universal cry was, Blood! blood! blood! and when the day dawned, Paris exhibited the most appalling spectacle of butchered Huguenots-men, women, and children. For three days and nights the work of carnage continued. The Seine was literally reddened with human blood! In the capital alone ten thousand perished, and among them five hundred Huguenot lords, knights, and military officers. Similar excesses of spoliation and of bloodshed were committed with brutal fury in other sections of France De Thore, a Popish historian, calculates that thirty thousand perished in this terrible convulsion. Another estimates one hundred thousand. The King, with a numerous suite, soon after attended mass, returning thanks to God for so happy an event, and its successful termination. By a public edict, Charles proclaimed himself the author of it. The awful hour of destruction and of death, in Paris, approached. It finally came; and the sig-High mass was also performed by the Pope-salutes nal for the murderers to fall upon their victims, was the great clock of the Palace of Justice. For the first time since his wounds, Coligny had rested quietly that night, but was awakened by the report of firearms. Springing from his bed, he was met by his chaplain and other attendants, who had rushed into his room. Having been informed of his danger, he said, "I fear for you: to God let us commend ourselves;" and he kneeled down in silent devotion. Then rising and listening for a moment, of artillery thundered from the ramparts of St. Angelo-a Te Deum was sung, and a medal struckthe whole to celebrate the atrocious event. These are evidences that scatter to the winds of heaven all the excuses and attempted apologies for those who perpetrated this foul deed. Lord Clarendon designated that year, 1572, in which was perpetrated the St. Bartholomew massacre, as "infamous;" and I know not one so foul and bloody in ancient or modern times. The black deed has handed down the BOOKS. names of Catharine de Medicis and her son, Charles IX, to the universal detestation of after ages. All the princes of Europe, except two, Philip II, King of Spain, and the Pope, expressed their indignation upon the awful and revolting occasion. Christiana, ex-Queen of Sweden, herself so decidedly attached to Popery, thus laments in one of her letters: "I am overwhelmed with grief, when I think of all the innocent blood which a blind fanaticism causes daily to flow. France exercises, without remorse or fear, the most barbarous persecution upon the dearest and most industrious portion of her people. Every time I contemplate the atrocious torments which have been inflicted upon the Protestants, my heart throbs, and my eyes are filled with tears." The life of the royal Charles was now fast drawing to a close, hastened, doubtless, by his remorse of conscience. Such were the dreadful impressions of the St. Bartholomew murder, as ever afterward to haunt his imagination; and the agony of his mind caused the blood to burst from the pores, bathing his body with its crimson streams. Pierre de L'Etoile declares, that he earnestly begged his attending physicians to relieve him; "for," said he, "I am cruelly and horribly tormented." To which they replied, { that their art had been exhausted, and God was the only sovereign physician in such a complaint. His faithful nurse was a Huguenot, to whom the King was much attached; and hearing him bitterly weep, groan, and sigh, she approached his dying couch. Bewailing his sad condition, Charles exclaimed, "Ah! my dear nurse, my beloved woman, what blood! what murders! Ah! I have followed wicked advice! O, my God! pardon me and be merciful! Where will this end? What shall I do? I am lost-lost for ever! I know it!" SUCH was the end of Charles IX, the royal persecutor-a shocking spectacle of wretchedness and remorse, and a warning to monarchs who may incline to bigotry, oppression, and cruelty. What an impressive and striking contrast between the death-bed scenes of the King and his pious subject, Gaspard de Coligny! Catharine, twelve years afterward, followed Charles to the grave. Descended as she was from the Medicean family, she inherited a taste for the fine arts. This, however, does not appear to have softened or refined her character and feelings. To her memory is universally attached the principal infamy of the St. Bartholomew massacre. She either planned the sanguinary work herself or instigated her son to its perpetration. Now robbed of personal charms, by the hand of time, and severely afflicted with the gout, on her death-bed, she is said to have impressed upon the mind of Henry, the reigning monarch, that he never could have peace unless he granted liberty of conscience to his subjects. It is a well-known historical fact, that the Parisians, whose blood she caused to flow in torrents, declared that, if her dead 109 body came there on its way to St. Denis, they would drag it through the streets, and throw it into the river, on account of her murderous deeds. And SUCH was the end of Catharine, the proud, persecuting daughter of Lorenzo de Medicis, the wife of Henry II, and mother of Francis II, of Charles IX, and Henry III, all monarchs of Romanized France, in whose reigns, almost mistress of the kingdom, she bore so conspicuous a part. How low and humbled now! She had erected a costly and splendid mausoleum for herself and family, but was carried, by torch-light, to a hastily dug grave in an obscure corner of the church at Blois. BOOKS. BY REV. W. M. DAILY, A. M. - THROUGH the medium of books the thinking portion of community receive most of their knowledge. Hence, each succeeding age is, or should be, wiser than the preceding. A conviction of these two facts first led to the formation of libraries. The first library of which we read was Egyptian, formed by Osymandias, an Egyptian king. Over it he had written this inscription, Food for the mind." This is what every library should contain; and, consequently, this every book should be, to entitle it to a place in our libraries. A partial survey, however, of many libraries, where many of the books are absolutely lettered "libraries of select novels," would suggest a far different inscription than that placed over the library of Osymandias. To correspond with the facts, or to be a faithful index to what is within, it should be, Trash for the mind. Through books we hold converse with their authors, and thus virtually keep company with them, as the spirit, as well as the words of the author, is to be found on the page, breathing in every sentiment and expression. Admit this, and then it will be acknowledged that the selection of books is as important as the selection of our company. 66 Evil communications corrupt good manners," is a proverb which is as true of books as it is of persons. Yet there are many who are rigidly strict in the selection of company for their families, who never so much as once think of prohibiting improper books, or of procuring such as would be profitable to minds and morals. Is there a high-minded, thoughtful, and virtuous parent, who would tolerate in the parlor, or sitting-room, such conversation and such sentiments as are to be found in Moore, Byron, &c.? Not one; no, not one, even though the visitor might paint such sentiments "in all the hues of the rainbow, and marry them to immortal verse." And yet many young ladies are in daily conversation with just such men, while they read such books, done up as they are in gilt and morocco-ornaments for the centre |