THE severest, the sublimest, and perhaps the most meritorious virtues, of which we are capable, are Patience and Composure under distress, pain, and affliction; a steadfast keeping up of our confidence in God, and our dependance upon his final goodness, even at the time that every thing present is discouraging and adverse; and, what is no less difficult to retain, a cordial desire for the happiness and comfort of others, even then, when we are deprived of our own. The possession of this temper is almost the perfection of our nature. But it is then only possessed, when it is put to the trial; tried at all, it could not have been in a life, made up only of pleasure and gratification. Few things are easier to perceive, to feel, to acknowledge, to extol the goodness of God, the bounty of Providence, the beauties of Nature, when all things go well, when our health, our spirits, our circumstances, conspire to fill our hearts with gladness, and our tongues with praise. This is easy, this is delightful. None but they who are sunk in sensuality, sottishness, and stupefaction, or whose understandings are dissipated by frivolous pursuits; none but the most giddy and insensible, can be destitute of these sentiments. But this is not the trial, or the proof. It is in the chambers of sickness; under the stroke of affliction; amidst the pinchings of want, the groans of pain, the pressures of infirmity; in grief, in misfortune; through gloom and horror, that it will be seen, whether we hold fast our hope, our confidence, our trust in God; whether this hope and confidence be able to produce in us resignation, acquiescence, and submission. And as those dispositions, which perhaps from the comparative perfection of our moral nature, could not have been exercised in a world of unmixed gratification, so neither would they have found their proper office or object in a state of strict and evident retribution; that is, in which we had no sufferings to submit to, but what were evidently and manifestly the punishment of our sins. A mere submission to punishment, evidently and plainly such, would not have constituted, at least would very imperfectly have constituted, the disposition which we speak of, -the true resignation of a Christian. PALEY. A FACE that should content me wondrous well, With right good grace, so would I that it should SIR THOMAS WYATT. OUGHT we to be astonished that the wise walk more slowly in their road to virtue, than fools in their passage to vice, since passion drags us along, while wisdom only points out the way. CONFUCIUS. FIVE years have past; five summers, with the length These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs These plots of cottage ground, these orchard-tufts, With tranquil restoration ;-feelings too In which the heavy and the weary weight Is lightened that serene and blessed mood, While, with an eye made quiet by the power WORDSWORTH. WE must distinguish between felicity and prosperity; for prosperity leads often to ambition, and ambition to disappointment: the course is then over, the wheel turns round but once, while the reaction of goodness and happiness is perpetual. LANDOR. A WIFE as tender, and as true withal, DRYDEN. A BEAUTIFUL object calls forth pleasing ideas, and excites a gay emotion. A grand object leaves upon the mind an impression of grandeur. In all sublime scenes, there is a mixture of the awful. The view of the skies by night; the moon moving in the brightness of her course; and the host of heaven in silent majesty, performing their eternal rounds, strike an awe and adoration into the mind. We feel divinity present; we bow down, and worship in the temple, which the Most High God hath built with his hand, and hath filled with his presence. LOGAN. THE brave man does maintain his painful post, MOTTLEY. |