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man's, is better prepared to admit and cherish, and be affected by, this solemn and glorious acknowledgment of a God.

Again; the gospel reveals to us a Savior, invested with little of that brilliant and dazzling glory, with which conquest and success would array him in the eyes of proud and aspiring man; but rather as a meek and magnanimous sufferer, clothed in all the mild and passive graces, all the sympathy with human wo, all the compassion for human frailty, all the benevolent interest in human welfare, which the heart of woman is formed to love; together with all that solemn and supernatural dignity, which the heart of woman is formed peculiarly to feel and to reverence. To obey the commands, and aspire to iniitate the peculiar virtues, of such a being, must always be more natural and easy for her than for man.

So, too, it is with that future life which the gospel unveils, where all that is dark and doubtful in this shall be explained, where penitence shall be forgiven, and faith and virtue accepted; where the tear of sorrow shall be dried, the wounded bosom of bereavement be healed; where love and joy shall be unclouded and immortal. To these high and holy visions of faith I trust that man is not always insensible; but the superior sensibility of woman, as it makes her feel, more deeply, the emptiness and wants of human existence here, so it makes her welcome, with more deep and ardent emotions, the glad tidings of salvation, the thought of communion with God, the hope of the purity, happiness and peace of another and a better world.

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In this peculiar susceptibility of religion in the female character, who does not discern a proof of the benignant are of Heaven of the best interest of man? How wise it that she, whose instructions and example must have so powerful an influence on the infant mind, should be forined o own and cherish the most sublime and important of truths! The vestal flame of piety, lighted up by Heaven in the breast of woman, diffuses its light and warmth over the world;-and dark would be the world, if it should ever be extinguished and lost.

LESSON LXXI.

A Scene in a private Mad-House.-M. G. LEWIS.

STAY, jailer, stay, and hear my wo!
She is not mad who kneels to thee;
For what I'm now, too well I know,
And what I was, and what should be.
I'll rave no more in proud despair;
My language shall be mild, though sad:
But yet I'll firmly, truly swear,

I am not mad; I am not mad.

My tyrant husband forged the tale,
Which chains me in this dismal cell;
My fate unknown my friends bewail;
Oh! jailer, haste that fate to tell;
Oh! haste my father's heart to cheer:
His heart at once 'twill grieve and glad
To know, though kept a captive here,
I am not mad; I am not mad.

He smiles in scorn, and turns the key;
He quits the grate; I knelt in vain;
His glimmering lamp, still, still I see-
'Tis gone, and all is gloom again.
Cold, bitter cold!-No warmth! no light!
Life, all thy comforts once I had;
Yet here I'm chained, this freezing night,
Although not mad; no, no, not mad.

'Tis sure some dream, some vision vain ;
What! I,-the child of rank and wealth,-
Am I the wretch who clanks this chain,
Bereft of freedom, friends and health?
Ah! while I dwell on blessings fled,

Which never more my heart must glad,
How aches my heart, how burns my head;
But 'tis not mad; no, 'tis not mad.

Hast thou, my child, forgot, ere this,

A mother's face, a mother's tongue?
She'll ne'er forget your parting kiss,
Nor round her neck how fast you clung;
Nor how with me you sued to stay;

Nor how that suit your sire forbade ;
Nor how I'll drive such thoughts away;
They'll make me mad; they'll make me mad.

His rosy lips, how sweet they smiled!

His mild blue eyes, how bright they shone! None ever bore a lovelier child:

And art thou now for ever gone?
And must I never see thee more,
My pretty, pretty, pretty lad?
I will be free! unbar the door!

I am not mad; I am not mad.

Oh! hark! what mean those yells and cries?
His chain some furious madman breaks;
He comes,-I see his glaring eyes;

Now, now my dungeon grate he shakes.
Help! help!-He's gone!-Oh! fearful wo,
Such screams to hear, such sights to see!
My brain, my brain,-I know, I know,
I am not mad, but soon shall be.

Yes, soon;-for, lo you !-while I speak-
Mark how yon Demon's eye-balls glare!
He sees me; now, with dreadful shriek,
He whirls a serpent high in air.
Horror!-the reptile strikes his tooth

Deep in my heart, so crushed and sad;
Ay, laugh, ye fiends;-I feel the truth;
Your task is done!—I'm mad! I'm mad!

LESSON LXXII.

On the relative Value of Good Sense and Beauty in the Female Sex.-LITERARY Gazette.

NOTWITHSTANDING the lessons of moralists, and the declamations of philosophers, it cannot be denied that all mankind have a natural love, and even respect, for external beauty. In vain do they represent it as a thing of no value in itself, as a frail and perishable flower; in vain do they exhaust all the depths of argument, all the stories of fancy, to prove the worthlessness of this amiable gift of nature. However persuasive their reasonings may appear, and however we may, for a time, fancy ourselves convinced by them, we have in our breasts a certain instinct, which never fails to tell us, that all is not satisfactory; and though we may not be able to prove that they are wrong, we feel a conviction that it is impossible they should be right.

They are certainly right in blaming those, who are rendered vain by the possession of beauty, since vanity is, at all times, a fault: but there is a great difference between being vain of a thing, and being happy that we have it; and that beauty, however little merit a woman can claim to herself for it, is really a quality which she may reasonably rejoice to possess, demands, I think, no very labored proof. Every one naturally wishes to please. To this end we know how important it is, that the first impression we produce should be favorable.

Now, this first impression is commonly produced through the medium of the eye; and this is frequently so powerful as to resist, for a long time, the opposing evidence of subsequent observation. Let a man of even the soundest judgment be presented to two women, equally strangers to him, but the one extremely handsome, the other without any remarkable advantages of person, and he will, without deliberation, attach himself first to the former. All men seem in this to be actuated by the same principle as Socrates, who used to say, that when he saw a beautiful person, he always expected to see it animated by a beautiful soul.

The ladies, however, often fall into the fatal error of im

agining that a fine person is, in our eyes, superior to every other accomplishment; and those, who are so happy as to be endowed with it, rely, with vain confidence, on its irresistible power to retain hearts as well as to subdue them. Hence the lavish care bestowed on the improvement of exterior and perishable charms, and the neglect of solid and durable excellence; hence the long list of arts that administer to vanity and folly, the countless train of glittering accomplishments, and the scanty catalogue of truly valuable acquirements, which compose, for the most part, the modern system of fashionable female education. Yet so far is beauty from being, in our eyes, an excuse for the want of a cultivated mind, that the women who are blessed with it, have, in reality, a much harder task to perform, than those of their sex who are not so distinguished. Even our self-love here takes part against them; we feel ashamed of having suffered ourselves to be caught like children, by mere outside, and perhaps even fall into the contrary extreme.

Could "the statue that enchants the world," the Venus de Medicis, at the prayer of some new Pygmalion, become suddenly animated, how disappointed would he be, if she were not endowed with a soul answerable to the inimitable perfection of her heavenly form? Thus it is with a fine woman, whose only accomplishment is external excellence. She may dazzle for a time; but when a man has once thought, "What a pity that such a masterpiece should be but a walking statue !" her empire is at an end.

On the other hand, when a woman, the plainness of whose features prevented our noticing her at first, is found, upon nearer acquaintance, to be possessed of the more solid and valuable perfections of the mind, the pleasure we feel in being so agreeably undeceived, makes her appear to still greater advantage and as the mind of man, when left to itself, is naturally an enemy to all injustice, we, even unknown to ourselves, strive to repair the wrong we have involuntarily done her, by a double portion of attention and regard.

If these observations be founded in truth, it will appear that, though a woman with a cultivated mind may justly hope to please, without even any superior advantages of person, the loveliest creature that ever came from the hand of her Crea

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