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DIVERSITY OF CHARACTER.

become the admired object of the captivated populace. He moves in his element when wafted along by flattering breezes of popular applause, and his name is on every tongue. The witty or satirical vein of another's genius renders him a source of amusement and diversion to all his associates, and gives him a weapon for defense or social conflict, which his opponent has neither skill to use nor power to evade. The mind of the astronomer, apparently despising the scientific attractions of carth, travels off to yon distant planets, roams through the illimitable regions of the Almighty's dominions, counts the stars, calculates the distances and magnitudes of the heavenly bodies, and makes their order and motions as familiar to his mind as the fundamental rules of arithmetic are to the school-boy. His soul revels on the glories and magnificence of the celestial scenery. But how unlike his taste and enjoyment is the passion which actuates the breast of the miser! Imagine him before you in his real character and peculiar habiliments. Could you see his soul stand out in visible features, and with living colors, what a despicable nondescript image would you behold! Eagerness for pelf, cold, calculating, narrow-minded selfishness, and delight in groveling pursuits, are prominent features in his character. His capacity and relish for moral and intellectual beautics are destroyed by his devotion to mere physical pursuits and pleasures. He knows only the poor enjoyments of an earthly, sordid mind. Almost every thing heavenly and ennobling in an immortal spirit has taken its departure; and if any lovely trait marks his character, it is maternal affection; for truly he cherishes in his bosom a conscientious attachment and love to his mother earth.

This diversity of character might be pursued still farther in its numberless appearances on the drama of human life. But let this suffice. We pass to make some inquiry into the cause, and some reflections suggested by the subject.

1. That there is a natural or constitutional difference of mental character, is evident both from analogy and the phenomena exhibited at a very early period of life. Some, in their zeal to show the paramount importance of cultivation, have gone so far as to attribute all difference to education and the circumstances of life. But this is opposed to all ideas of genius, which is a gift of nature-a sentiment which has prevailed universally. Nature, in the vegetable and animal kingdoms, exhibits everywhere an endless variety, impressed on every object we behold. We see it in the size, form, color, &c., of every animal, from the king of the forest to the smallest insect that crawls beneath our feet. We see it in the trees of the forest, and in the flowers of the field. The human body, and cspecially the countenance, strikingly illustrates the

are,

same thing. Has the hand of nature formed the millions of the human family with the same mental stamp, and impressed on all other existences an endless variety? I think not. Besides, there in the history of mental phenomena, developments of nature's own handiwork at so early a period of life as to preclude all possibility of ascribing them to the effect of cultivation. We might name, as the most remarkable, instances of those who have been distinguished for their power of numerical calculation, and for musical talents, and that at an age when no cultivation or circumstances could account for so extraordinary developments. And what is true of extraordinary cases, is true, to a less extent, cæteris paribus, of every mind above or be low mediocrity.

2. Whatever diversity nature may bestow on us, it is manifest that education, and the circumstances of early life, have an immense influence in developing and modifying the natural endowments. There is much more truth than novelty in the familiar couplet

"Tis education forms the common mind

Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined." Very often the most trivial incidents or events of childhood have an important bearing upon the future destiny of an individual. The tender sapling once forced from nature's course may never recover its original position. The oath which the Carthagenian boy took at the age of nine years, by the injunction of his father, had an important bear. ing on the character and immortality of Hannibal. How much the growth and strength of the sturdy oak is owing to the climate-how much to the native fertility of the soil, and how much to the hand of the cultivator, is impossible to ascertain. In like manner it may be difficult to say whether one is more indebted for his intellectual greatness to nature or education. But that the influence of education, when thorough and complete, is immense, there can be no doubt. The mind is susceptible of indefinite improvement. Many who exhibited no extraordinary mental faculties in youth, have, by continued exercise and cultivation, acquired the powers of a giant intellect. They are bright luminaries in the literary, scientific, moral, or polit

ical world.

3. If a youth exhibit an extraordinary develop ment of some one mental faculty, it is the province of a wise and benevolent educator, not indeed to stifle and cramp its luxurious growth, but rather to invigorate the other faculties. By so doing, he will not only prevent mental deformity, which by all means is to be avoided and obviated, if possible, but also contribute much to what should always be aimed at in mental cultivation-a well balanced mind.

4. The discipline and government of youth,

NIGHT SCENE.

Original.

NIGHT SCENE.

(SEE ENGRAVING.)

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whether parental or at school, should be adapted ||
to the peculiar disposition and temperament. It
would surely be absurd and fatal to administer the
same remedy for the cure of all the manifold dis-
eases which afflict the body. It would be equally
so, to use the same kind of discipline for minds of
a different temperament, and under the influence
of different passions. How important, then, must
it be for parents to study mental character, and
understand the various passions which actuate the
breasts of their children: otherwise, their best
wishes may be defeated by their ill-adapted endeav
ors. A pious father who, in the erroneous notions
of the method of cultivating early piety in his son,
compels him, contrary to his inclination, to read the
Bible, and attend to other religious duties, and pun-
ishes in case of disobedience, begets in him a pre-
judice and aversion to every thing in the form of
religion, and takes an efficient course to form an
infidel, who will one day, perhaps, make havoc
of the Church of God. Some indirect and judi-per, "The Lord is in his temple."
cious efforts may interest that boy in the study of
the Bible, and show him the loveliness of virtue and
religion, and thereby, instead of an infidel, make
him an angel of light and mercy, to bless a fallen
world. Children are creatures of passion; and he
who would train them up in the way they should
go, must be "wise as serpents and harmless as
doves."

NIGHT is the season of repose. With what interest does the weary hireling watch the lengthening shadow! The sweetest hour in the circle, is that in which he commits himself to the arms of "tired nature's sweet restorer."

Night is the season of forgetfulness. The pangs of disappointment, the agonies of affliction, the anxietics of a busy world, are drowned in balmy slumber. There is, however, a sorrow which oft disturbs in visions of the night, and for which there is no oblivious antidote but the blood of Jesus.

Original.

THE BROKEN LILY.

BY MISS E. COOPER.

I SAW it, delicate and fair,

Its cup was wet with morning dewIt breathed its sweetness to the air, That gently fanned it where it grew.

Again I saw it; but no more

It smiled to catch the rosy dawn:
'Twas broken, withered, scattered o'er

The ground; and all its charms were gone.
Sad truth, thought I; will nothing stay,
This vale of tears to beautify?
Must all decay? Will every day
Bring proof that all is vanity?

Turning, I saw a form of grace

Her eye shone like the evening starThe softest blush glowed on her face, And she was young, and sweetly fair.

Again I saw her; but her eye

Sparkled no more: the glowing cheek Was cold and pale, and friends stood by, And wept as if their hearts would break.

Night is the season for meditation. When creation sleeps, and silence reigns, then walk abroad and resign yourself to the undisturbed influence of this deep universe. Survey "the heavens-the work of God's hand-the moon and stars which he hath ordained," and a voice within shall whis

Night is calculated to force upon us the humbling reality of our own insigificance. Look over hill and plain-form some conception of the magnitude of earth. Turn now to the worlds on high. Then reflect that what is visible is but the vestibule of the creation, and you will exclaim, "What is man that thou art mindful of him, or the son of man that thou visitest him!" From scenes of night we may learn the nothingness of wealth and the riches of faith. An ancient sage once mortified and humbled a boastful heir, by challenging him to point out his possessions on the map of Italy. Let the proud owner of hills and vales mark out his lands on the map of the universe. How consoling to think that we worms of the dust may hold a place in the regards of God! Vast as is the universe, the Christian's portion is still greater-God.

Night is a season favorable to communion with the heart. Amid the busy scenes of earth we are prone to lose sight of ourselves. But when the curtains of night are drawn around us, we incline to self-examination. "I remember my song in the night, I commune with my heart, and my spirit made diligent search."

Night favors communion with God. When other eyes have no power to see, how natural to think of him who whose eye is all-seeing. Happy he to whom God is not a consuming fire, and who can rejoice when he finds himself alone with his Creator.

There is a world where no fatigues of body or toils of mind render a season of repose necessarywhere the senses are not avenues to temptationwhere worldly cares and sorrows are unknownthat is a world of light. "And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun for the Lord God giveth them light; and they shall reign for ever and ever."

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Original.

MRS. WRIGHT.

MRS. WRIGHT.

Scarce had we arrived in this city, when our ears were saluted with the mournful tidings of Mrs. Wright's decease. We attended her funeral amidst a crowd of sympathizing friends, and heard an appropriate and able discourse from Rev. L. Swormstedt, who, after concluding his sermon, read in substance the following biographical sketch.-ED.

MRS. MARY, late consort of the Rev. John F. Wright, was the daughter of John and Jane Reynolds, and a native of Champaign county, Ohio, where her father has resided for forty-two years. She was born April 14, 1805. Her pious parents were members of the Methodist Episcopal Church, long before her birth, and were careful to instruct their children in the principles and duties of Christianity. The children also enjoyed the society and ministrations of many itinerant preachers, who have found a cordial welcome at the house of Mr. Reynolds ever since the early settlement of that section of Ohio.

Under the influence of all the variety of means afforded Mary, she became very early impressed with the importance and necessity of experimental and practical religion, and applied herself, according to her tender years, to the use of every spiritual help within her reach, that she might be successful in the great enterprise of salvation. When very young, she frequently came forward with other seekers of religion, that she might be assisted by the prayers of the devout and faithful. This practice she continued until satisfied she had obtained the answer to prayer in the renewal of her nature, and in the forgiveness of her sins. In referring to this part of her life, she said she often wished the officiating minister would not request the mourners thus to distinguish themselves; for it was a great cross to her; but such were the convictions of her mind, that she was constrained to go forward every time an invitation was given; for she believed if she neglected the proffered aid, she would commit a great sin, by grieving "the Holy Spirit of God." Soon after she attained her eleventh year, she united herself to the Methodist Episcopal Church, having deliberately determined to avail herself of all the advantages of actual membership. At the same meeting, some of her discerning friends supposed she was then united to Christ by faith, and there found "redemption in his blood-the forgiveness of sins." But such were the exalted views she had formed of conversion, from hearing some describe their sensations and cestasies when they experienced the blessing, that she could not believe, at the time, that the great and requisite change had been effected in her; and for the plain reason that her experience did not come up to that rather extravagant standard which had been created in her

imagination. She, however, afterward fixed upon this as the most probable period in which the work of grace was wrought in her heart. Indeed, the grace of God was distilled upon her soul, so much like the noiseless dew descends upon the delicate flower, or "the small rain upon the tender herb," that she was always at a loss to determine the precise time and place of her justification. She was, however, fully satisfied that the work was accomplished, and that she realized its happy fruits. The kingdom of God to her was "not meat and drink, but righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost."

About eighteen months after her union with the Church, in the winter of 1817-18, at a quarterly meeting at Urbana, she received such a degree of joy and peace in believing, and such a sense of the Divine favor, that her doubts were measurably removed, and she was ready to exclaim

"His Spirit answers to the blood,

And tells me I am born of God."

On this occasion Bishop George and Rev. John Strange, with other ministers, officiated. She has often spoken of the labors of the latter with much interest and sincere gratitude.

Mrs. Wright remembered her Creator in the days of her youth, and spent the morning of her life in a conscientious improvement of the means of grace, and in a strict observance of the duties of religion-"walking in the commandments and ordinances of the Lord." It was, perhaps, a greater cross at that period for a young woman to be a Methodist than at the present; but the youthful Mary sustained it firmly. Nor did she blush to associate with the "company who were secking the power of godliness, united in order to pray together, to receive the word of exhortation, and to watch over one another in love, that they may help each other to work out their salvation." In addition to this public profession of attachment to Christ and his people, she exhibited a good example in plainness of dress, and in other features of Christian deportment, well worthy of imitation.

When about twenty years of age, having deliberately, and with religious gravity, consented to iden tify all her earthly interests and become one with an itinerant Methodist preacher, she was married to the Rev. John F. Wright, on the 31st of March, 1825. Although she distrusted her qualifications to be the wife of a minister of the Gospel, yet her life was a beautiful pattern for those who sustain this responsible relation. Her natural diffidence, however, prevented her from assuming any prominent position in the Church; but it is believed that her moral excellence and pious example have left their impress upon the Church and the world. Her efforts to do good might well be compared to the silent stream, which is apparently lost in the herbage, but which, nevertheless, gives evidence of its

MRS. WRIGHT.

course by its salutary effects. She was uniformly devoted to the interests of her family; and in all her domestic arrangements she was neat, diligent, and frugal, looking well to her household. She was emphatically a good wife.

Mrs. Wright was often harassed with doubts and fears in regard to her spiritual state and future destiny, through much of her life. And although she could give "a reason of the hope" that was in her, she always did it "with meekness and fear." There is no doubt but the enemy of her soul often operated through her natural timidity, to disturb her "peace" and diminish her "joy." She, however, was vigilant and constant in her efforts to resist the adversary, and persevered in every struggle until she gained the victory. When darkness came over her, and her way was obscured, she made it a point to try to keep in "the old paths," and walk as nearly in the right way as she could until she saw the light again. And although sorrow continued, as it were, for a night, joy came in the morning. Her enjoyments seldom rose to raptures, nor did they often fall below a calm and settled peace. She read and studied the holy Scriptures with close attention; and, like Mary of old, she humbly sat "at the feet of Jesus, to learn his words." Her great object was to ascertain accurately what was the will of God concerning her. And when her duty was clearly known, she endeavored to perform it without wavering. Nor did she consider any cross too great to endure, or any sacrifice too much to make, if she could but have the desired "testimony that she pleased God." She adopted the well defined principles which she derived from the Bible for her government, and was faithful and uniform in their practice, being religious every day at home.

She possessed in a high degree the perfection spoken of by the apostle James, 3d chapter, 2d verse, as she "offended not in word, and was able also to bridle the whole body." A notice of her death in the city papers, written by a neighbor who had been long acquainted with her, has this remark, "Her whole life was a practical illustration of the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is, in the sight of God, of great price."

When her husband was absent, as was often the case, unless disabled by affliction, she filled his place at the family altar. Her children will never forget the humility and fervor which marked her devotions at such times, and they will long feel the influence of this example.

Mrs. Wright was in the habit of reading the Scriptures regularly through, and her custom generally was to read a portion in the Old Testament and another in the New every day; and for several years she added one of Sturm's "Reflections on the works of God"-a book which she admired much; VOL. IV.-35

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and in this way read it regularly through several times. But the Bible was her favorite book; and for the last few years of her life she read but little else. Her husband procured for her special benefit "Taylor's Holy Living and Dying." She, however, made but little use of it, and seemed to think the New Testament, with the Psalms added, was the most appropriate and effectual book she could use, to enable her to live holy and die happy. Hence, she made it her constant companion; and thus, "through patience, and comfort of the Scriptures," she had hope. This precious book, that had been so much solace to her, she left to her daughter.

Mrs. Wright, though naturally timid, had moral courage enough for the performance of any duty, or the endurance of any suffering, as the following extract of a letter (addressed to her mother, after the subsidence of a violent visitation of the cholera in Cincinnati) evinces. The letter is dated Cincinnati, January 1, 1833.

*

"DEAR MOTHER,-Your kind favor was duly received. * I was fully persuaded we shared in your solicitude and prayers when our lives were in so much jeopardy every hour,' during the prevalence of the terrible pestilence in our city; and it may appear, when the light of eternity shall shine upon that dark period of our mortal history, that prayer was the means of turning aside the pale horse and his rider, or of securing safety to all the inmates of our habitation, amid such peril. As for myself, I have endeavored to keep my mind constantly staid upon God, and have been sustained with a confidence and peace which were truly important at such a period. While hundreds seemed disposed to escape by flight, my heart never inclined me to seek security in such means, but rather said, 'Stand still and see the salvation of the Lord." "

The following paragraph, taken from the same letter, will show her tender affection for her parents, and her submission to the providence that separated her from them.

"Father's long affliction has given me much uneasiness; but I am pleased to hear that he is so far recovered as to be able to come down stairs, and hope he will soon have his usual health. I would be much pleased to see you and father here, and enjoy the company of you all; but if this be not practicable in this imperfect state of being, where all our enjoyments are mixed with inconveniences and privations, it becomes me to be submissive to that Providence which directs all my paths, and chooses my changes for me."

We furnish one more paragraph from the same letter, to show the interest Mrs. Wright felt in the revival of religion then in progress in the city.

"The quarterly meeting which commenced last Friday, was blest with extraordinary success.

On

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Monday night, at love feast, it is supposed that between two and three hundred presented themselves at or near the altar as seckers of salvation, and that fifty were happily converted. During the meeting one hundred and twenty-five proposed themselves for admission into the Church, and the names of about five hundred have been received since conference, as applicants for membership."

Mrs. Wright, in her youth, when at school in Cincinnati, had her health so impaired that she never fully recovered. She was a woman of very feeble constitution, and often suffered much from affliction; but she endured all with patience, "as seeing Ilim who is invisible."

On the first of July, 1843, she was attacked with the then prevailing epidemic influenza, which produced a confirmed bronchitis. After thirteen months continued affliction, gradually wasting her flesh and strength, her mortal life expired, as the lamp when the oil is exhausted

"Sweetly as labes sleep."

departure. She answered, "None at all: it is all with the Lord."

After she had relinquished all hope of recovery, her husband remarked to her, "You can now see the reason why your two little children were taken from you." She answered, "Yes," and said that she was admonished that they would be removed, and that she saw clearly the design of God in the bereavement. A short time before they were attacked with scarlet fever, she was earnestly engaged in private prayer. Groaning to be made free from all sin, and "filled with all the fullness of God," she repeated these lines of the poet"Tear every idol from thy throne,

And reign, my Savior, reign alone." Immediately the question was suggested to her mind, “Can you give up your two little children?" Her heart responded-it was the heart of a MOTHER-"No, I cannot." It then occurred to her that she desired the will of God to be done only so far as it might be in accordance with her own will. Readily admitting the unreasonableness of such resistance on her part, she determined to deny herself, take up every cross, and continue to pray until her will was entirely subjugated to the will of God. In this conflict she obtained a decided victory, and was able to say, "Not my will but thine be done;" and could repeat, without reservation

"Tear every idol from thy throne,

And reign, my Savior, reign alone."

She endured but little severe pain at any time during her whole sickness, and often rendered thanks to God that she was so specially distinguished and favored. She would often say, "The Lord is very good to me-he afflicts me just as I am able to bear it." Her religious enjoyments greatly increased the last year of her life; and it was manifest to her family and those who visited her, that as she was advancing toward eternity she was also growing in a meetness for heaven. Indeed, her comfort, which was strong and abiding, sometimes arose to ecstasy, and she proclaimed aloud the praises of God, which was a very unusual thing for her. The enemy thrust sorely at her, and sometimes "came in like a flood," during her long illness; but, in the strength of Christ, she❘ At nine o'clock, A. M., on the 30th of July, she successfully resisted all his temptations, and was finally brought off more than conqueror through Him that loved her.

She seemed to apprehend danger that her patience would become exhausted, and that she would not be able to submit, with perfect acquiescence, to the will of her heavenly Father through all her tedious illness. For this she earnestly prayed, and often begged those around her to pray that she might have grace to endure her affliction, without a murmur, unto the end. And it is believed, in this thing, she was favored with most complete success. No murmur ever escaped her lips; and if she ever said any thing that she thought might possibly be construed into a complaint, she would immediately change the phraseology. On one occasion she asked her husband how long he thought she would have to suffer. He said he could not determine with any certainty; and asked her if she had any presentiment in regard to the time of her

The tender and lovely children were soon removed from earth to heaven; and the fond mother could say, "It is the Lord: let him do what seemeth him good." The perfect submission with which she bore the loss of her loved ones, was never so fully understood until she furnished this explanation.

appeared to be sinking in death. And when she was unable to speak, her neighbor, sister W., inquired if she did not feel almost at home. She quickly moved her head in the affirmative. Soon after, her husband asked, "Do you find that all is well?'" to which she replied, with surprising energy and a full voice, "Yes."

She revived, and conversed occasionally through the day, as she was able, giving her family and friends every assurance they could desire that her spirit was safe and happy, and "ready to be of fered."

A short time before her departure, she appeared to overflow with joy, and uttered many expressions of praise to God, among which was the following sentence, distinctly heard by all in the room, "Glory, glory, halleluiah be unto the Lord for ever!" She closed her sufferings and mortal life at fifteen minutes before one o'clock, on the morn ing of the 31st of July, 1844.

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