without naming,-you, who, prompted by your religious love, stole Tillotson's Sermons from your friend, — look earthward, wherever you are, and see what love of flowers will prompt its votaries to do!

Under what sacred robes do we play our tricks! What holy names we bestow upon our covetous desires! What theft and spoliation we commit in the temple of the purest affection, amidst the symbols and evidence of innocence! Let no one ever talk of the "sentiment of flowers," who has not within him the hallowed principle, which ever guards him from the temptation of stealing even the meanest, - violating truth at her very altar, and uprooting the sheltering plant of confidence.

EXERCISE CXXXVI.

QUALITIES REQUISITE IN A WIFE. Dr. Aikin.

TASTES, manners, and opinions, being things not origina, but acquired, cannot be of so much consequence as the fundamental properties of good sense and good temper. Possessed of these, a wife, who loves her husband, will fashion herself in the others according to what she perceives to be his inclination; and if, after all, a considerable diversity remain between them, in such points, this is not incompatible with domestic comfort. But sense and temper can never be dispensed with in the companion for life: they form the basis on which the whole edifice of happiness is to be raised. both are absolutely essential, it is needless to inquire which is so in the highest degree. Fortunately, they are oftener met with together, than separate; for the just and reasonable estimation of things, which true good sense inspires, almost necessarily produces that equanimity and moderation of spirit, in which good temper properly consists.

As

There is, indeed, a kind of thoughtless good nature, which is not unfrequently coupled with weakness of understanding; but, having no power of self-direction, its operations are capricious; and no reliance can be placed on it for promoting solid felicity. When, however, this easy humour appears with the attractions of youth and beauty, there is some danger lest even men of sense should overlook the defects of a shallow capacity, especially if they have entertained the too

common notion, that women are no better than playthings, designed rather for the amusement of their lords and masters, than for the more serious purposes of life. But no man ever married a fool without severely repenting it; for though the pretty trifler may have served well enough for the hour of gayety, yet when folly assumes the reins of domestic, and especially of parental control, she will give a perpetual heartache to a considerate partner.

On the other hand, there are to be met with instances of considerable powers of the understanding, combined with waywardness of temper, sufficient to destroy all the comfort of life. Malignity is sometimes joined with wit, haughtiness and caprice with talents, sourness and suspicion with sagacity, and cold reserve with judgment. But all these being in themselves unamiable qualities, it is less necessary to guard against the possessors of them. They generally render even beauty unattractive; and no charm, but that of fortune, is able to overcome the repugnance they excite. How much more fatal than even folly they are to all domestic felicity, you have probably already seen enough of the matrimonial state to judge.

Many of the qualities which fit a woman for a companion, also adapt her for the office of helper; but many additional ones are requisite. The original purpose for which this sex was created, is said, you know, to have been, providing man with a help-mate; yet it is, perhaps, that notion of a wife, which least occupies the imagination in the season of courtship. Be assured, however, that, as an office for life, its importance stands extremely high to one whose situation does not place him above the want of such aid; and fitness for it should make a leading consideration in his choice. Romantic ideas of domestic felicity will infallibly, in time, give way to that true state of things, which will show that a large part of it must arise from well-ordered affairs, and an accumulation of petty comforts and conveniences.

A clean and quiet fireside, regular and agreeable meals, decent apparel, a house managed with order and economy, ready for the recéption of a friend or the accommodation of a stranger, a skilful as well as affectionate nurse in time of sickness, all these things compose a very considerable part of what the nuptial state was intended to afford us; and, without them, no charms of person or understanding will long continue to bestow delight. The arts of housewifery should be regarded as professional to the woman who intends to be

come a wife; and to select one for that station, who is destitute of them, or disinclined to exercise them, however otherwise accomplished, is as absurd, as it would be to choose for your lawyer or physician a man who excelled in every thing rather than in law or physic.

Let me remark, too, that knowledge and good will are not the only requisites for the office of a helper. It demands a certain energy both of body and mind, which is less frequently met with among the females of the present age, than might be wished. How much soever infirm and delicate health may interest the feelings, it is certainly an undesirable attendant on a connection for life. Nothing can be more contrary to the qualification of a help-mate, than a condition, which constantly requires that assistance which it never can impart.

EXERCISE CXXXVII.

LOVE FOR HUMANITY. Mrs. Child.

Ir at times, the discord of man proves too strong for thee, go out into the great temple of Nature, and drink in freshness from her never-failing fountain. The devices of men pass away as a vapour; but she changes never. Above all fluctuations of opinion, and all the tumult of the passions, she smiles ever, in various but unchanging beauty. I have gone to her with tears in my eyes, with a heart full of the saddest forebodings, for myself and all the human race; and lo! she has shown me a babe plucking a white clover, with busy, uncertain little fingers, and the child walked straight into my heart, and prophesied as hopefully as an angel; and I believed her, and went on my way rejoicing.

The language of nature, like that of music, is universal: it speaks to the heart, and is understood by all. Dialects belong to clans and sects; tones to the universe. High above all language, floats music on its amber cloud. It is not the exponent of opinion, but of feeling. The heart made it; therefore it is infinite. It reveals more than language can ever utter, or thoughts conceive. And high as music is above mere dialects, — winging its godlike way, while verbs and nouns go creeping, - even so, sounds the voice of Love,

that clear, treble-note of the universe, into the heart of man, and the ear of Jehovah.

In sincere humility do I acknowledge that if I am less guilty than some of my human brothers, it is mainly because I have been beloved. Kind emotions and impulses have not been sent back to me, like dreary echoes, through empty rooms. All around me, at this moment, are tokens of a friendly heart-warmth. A sheaf of dried grasses brings near the gentle image of one who gathered them for love; a varied group of the graceful lady-fern tells me of summer rambles in the woods, by one who mingled thoughts of me with all her glimpses of nature's beauty. A rose-bush, from a poor Irish woman, speaks to me of her blessings. A bird of paradise, sent by friendship, to warm the wintry hours with thoughts of sunny Eastern climes, cheers me with its floating beauty, like a fairy fancy. Flower-tokens from the best of neighbours, have come, all summer long, to bid me a blithe good morning, and tell me news of sunshine and fresh air. A piece of sponge, graceful as if it grew on the arms of the wave, reminds me of Grecian seas, and of Hylas borne away by water-nymphs. It was given me for its uncommon beauty; and who will not try harder to be good, for being deemed a fit recipient of the beautiful? A root, which promises to bloom into fragrance, is sent by an old Quaker lady, whom I know not, but who says, "I would fain minister to thy love of flowers." Affection sends childhood to peep lovingly at me from engravings, or stand in classic grace, imbodied in the little plaster cast. The far-off and the near, the past and the future, are with me in my humble apartment. True, the mementoes cost little of the world's wealth; for they are of the simplest kind; but they express the universe, - because they are thoughts of love, clothed in forms of beauty.

Why do I mention these things? From vanity? Nay, verily; for it often humbles me to tears, to think how much I am loved more than I deserve; while thousands, far nearer to God, pass on their thorny path, comparatively uncheered by love and blessing. But it came into my heart to tell you how much these things helped me to be good; how they were like roses dropped by unseen hands, guiding me through a wilderness-path unto our Father's mansion. And the ove

that helps me to be good, I would have you bestow upon all, that all may become good. To love others, is greater happiness than to be beloved by them; to do good is more blessed

than to receive. The heart of Jesus was so full of love, that he called little children to his arms, and folded John upon his bosom; and this love made him capable of such divine selfrenunciation, that he could offer up even his life for the good of the world.

The desire to be beloved is ever restless and unsatisfied; but the love that flows out upon others, is a perpetual wellspring from on high. This source of happiness is within the reach of all: here, - if not elsewhere, - may the stranger and the friendless satisfy the infinite yearnings of the human heart, and find therein refreshment and joy.

READER, wouldst thou know what true peace and quiet mean; wouldst thou find a refuge from the noises and clamors of the multitude; wouldst thou enjoy at once solitude and society; wouldst thou possess the depth of thine own spirit in stillness, without being shut out from the consolatory faces of thy species; wouldst thou be alone, and yet accompanied; solitary, yet not desolate; singular, yet not without some to keep thee in countenance; a unit in aggregate; a simple in composite : come with me into a Quaker meeting. Dost thou love silence deep as that "before the winds were made," go not out into the wilderness, descend not into the profundities of the earth; shut not up thy casements; nor pour wax into the little cells of thine ears, with little-faithed, self-mistrusting Ulysses. Retire with me into a Quaker meeting.

For a man to refrain even from good words, and to hold his peace, it is commendable; but for a multitude, it is a great mastery.

What is the stillness of the desert, compared with this place? what the uncommunicating muteness of fishes? Here the goddess reigns and revels. "Boreas, and Cecias, and Argestes loud," do not with their inter-confounding uproars more augment the brawl, nor the waves of the blown Baltic with their clubbed sounds, — than their opposite, (Silence, her sacred self,) is multiplied and rendered more intense by