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"When the Archangel's trump shall blow,
"And souls to bodies join,

"What crowds shall wish their lives below,
"Had been as short as thine!"

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CHAP. XXX.

Of maternal tenderness—or the sorrows of the daughter of Aiah.

AMONGST the short but admirable sketches of nature which the historical part of the Sacred Volume furnishes, there is one that has been but very little noticed; though had it been found in any other book of so early date, it would have been quoted, again and again, with peals of applause. It is recorded in the 21st chapter of the 2d book of Samuel, and consists of a simple unvarnished tale of maternal tenderness, taken from real life.

Two

In the beginning of barley-harvest seven sons of Saul were hanged up, all together, and it was ordered that their dead bodies should remain upon the gallows or tree, exposed to the birds and beasts of prey. of these young men were the sons of Rizpah, Saul's concubine, whose conduct on that distressing occasion is described as follows:-" And Rizpah, the daughter of Aiah, took sackcloth, and spread it for her upon the rock, from the beginning of harvest until water dropped upon them out of heaven, and suffered neither the birds of the air to rest upon them by day, nor the beasts of the field by night."

The sacred historian records this story as worthy of notice and remembrance, and according to the usual manner of the penmen of the Holy Bible, he merely records it; adding not a word of comment or a single reflection of his own. Indeed it is, of itself, a picture which needs no coloring, and which no art could improve.

What was the moral or religious character of Rizpah, we are not told. Her being called Saul's concu

bine, is no evidence that she was of an abandoned character; for concubine probably means here, nothing more or worse than a wife of the secondary or subordinate rank, agreeably to the custom, tolerated, though not sanctioned, under the Mosaical dispensation. Nor do we know if the two unhappy sons had treated their mother at all with filial kindness. Considering that they were branches of Saul's ungracious house, the greater probability is that the mother had suffered many a pang from the churlishness of their behaviour. And be it even so, she but acted the genuine character of Mother, when she forgot the undutifulness of her sons in the yearnings of her compassion.

If we except the few, in whose hearts natural affection has given place to the ambition of making a figure in the eyes of the public-maternal tenderness is of universal extent, unless in those benighted regions where it has been blighted by a horrible superstition. This species of affection is one of the primary qualities of human nature, and no talents or accomplishments can supply its place. It is one of the main pillars of our race, which, without it, would quickly tumble to ruin.

The child that has the mother with it, though born in the most abject condition of life, has one friend at least ; a friend who loves it as naturally as she loves herself, and guards and fosters it from the same powerful feelings of nature that she guards and fosters her own life. And if sometimes, through misguided fondness, she runs into a blind, excessive, and pernicious indulgence, so aptly represented in the fable of the ape that stifled her youngling with the violence of her embrace;-all this, only shows that the gifts of nature are pervertible, and that ill may be educed from good. The affection itself, peculiar to the maternal bosom, is implanted by the hand of God; it is a precious part of female nature, and of immeasurable importance in its consequences.

As a celebrated writer remarks, "The authority of a father, so useful to our well-being, and so justly venerable on all accounts, hinders us from having that entire love for him that we have for our mothers, where the paternal authority is melted down into the mother's fondness and indulgence."*

* Burke,

Experience fully testifies to the truth of the above remark, and at the same time evinces the wisdom of the divine economy in this important particular. Filial affection, which is one of the most useful affections of our general nature, obtains its root and earliest growth from maternal tenderness. The fond and doting mother has our first love, which, by degrees, extends itself to the other parent. Whereas, but for the indulgent softness of female nature, which so irresistibly attracts the affections of our infancy and early childhood, there would be much less of pure unsophisticated filial love, than there now is in the world.

Alas, for the conduct of those children who neglect their mother when she is old! It manifests an unfeelingness of heart and brutality of disposition, exceeding the ordinary bounds of human depravity.

While I am upon the subject of maternal tenderness, I will notice one of the bitterest of the bitter drops in the cup of early widowhood: it is the loss of the only human being that can so naturally participate in her tenderness to her infant offspring. This is exquisitely expressed in one of the poems of Mrs. Opie, a young widowed mother.

"When to my heart my child I fold,
She only deepens every sigh:

I think, while I her charms behold,
How she'd have pleas'd her father's eye.
And while I from her lisping tongue
Soft childhood's artless accents hear,
I think, with vain remembrance wrung,
How she'd have charm'd her father's ear."

CHAP. XXXI.

Of Prudence in the ordinary concerns of Life.

"I Wisdom dwell with Prudence."

AND what is this close intimate of wisdom?—Not that niggardly, craving propensity, which occasions one to toil like an emmet, without cessation, and without enjoyment-not that sordid disposition, which, appropri

ating every thing to self, withholds bread from the hungry-not the worldly spirit, that makes all its calculations with the sole view to present loss and gain-not the jealous temper that keeps, by day and by night, a cat-like watch, and dares trust nobody-not the slyness that habitually prefers stratagem to openness of conduct -not the cowardice that shrinks from the responsibility or the danger, to which duty calls.-Though, by a mora. abuse of words, these severally, have been dignified with the name of Prudence, they are very unlike that gen uine prudence with which wisdom deigns to dwell.

Prudence of the right stamp, is the practical exposition both of a correct judgment and a correct heart. It regards the future, as well as the present; immortality as well as time; and each according to their respective importance. It seeks the attainment of worthy objects by worthy and suitable means. It keeps the end in view, and the means it properly adapts to the end. It shuns the evil that is avoidable, and what is unavoidable, it meets with resignation and firmness.

The quality of prudence is of perpetual use in all the concerns of life; and though, being rather an intellectual, than a moral quality, it is sometimes found in alliance with sordid selfishness, it gives support, as well as direction, to the noblest virtues. An ounce of Prudence is worth a pound of unbridled Genius. What signifies fine sense, exalted sense, even the best theoretical sense in the world, if it produces worse than nonsense in practice? What signifies it that one has great parts and great learning, united, if, notwithstanding, he acts the part of a fool?

"How empty learning, and how vain is art,

Save where it guides the life, or mends the heart."

Look at Bibulus, the most exalted, yet the most selfdegraded of men! Seemingly, he never thinks foolishly, nor ever acts wisely. Endowed with uncommon talents, and possessing the advantages of superior learning, his whole life, nevertheless, is a series of inconsistencies, errors and follies; and all from the want of prudence, without which, no man is truly great, or can be useful to others, or even to himself.

Prudence consists in soundness of judgment, together with firmness of resolution to follow the dictates of judgment. For want of such firm resolution, many act absurdly, though they speculate wisely; being drawn astray, contrary to their better knowledge, by indolence, timidity, ungoverned passion, or their propensities to particular vices.

Prudence, as particularly respects the concerns of this life, is a gift of Nature, distributed, like other natural gifts, in different degrees among mankind. Some discover the rudiments of it even from childhood; there being in them as it were an instinct of good sense, which carries them along the direct road, both in reasoning and conduct. Others are naturally rash, headstrong, and disposed to follow the impulse of the moment without either foresight or reflection; till taught to their cost, and sometimes happily cured, in the school of experience. While others again, notwithstanding excellent advantages for learning discretion, continue as to this particular, radically defective to the end of their lives. They have quickness of apprehension, readiness of wit, volubility of tongue, and besides, dame experience has severely disciplined them in her school. But all this, notwithstanding, they still have the weakness of infancy in this respect; in middle age, and even to old age, their minds are yet in the

cradle.

But though the prudence of which I am now speaking is a natural gift, it is an improveable gift. Where there are any rudiments of it in the young mind, it may, by proper means, be strengthened and increased; and it is one of the essential parts of education to lead the pupil into the habit of forethought and reflection, and to cultivate in him a well-directed decision of character, which, in fact, is a main pillar of the human heart. As many persons are imprudent for want of education, so, unquestionably, the ruinous imprudencies of many others are owing to a perverted or unsound education; an education that leads them to contemn the condition allotted to them by Providence, and to restless aspirations after one that is unattainable.

A sound education, correct habits, and a just way of

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