and restraining the reasoning faculties, has in part succeeded. But the step thus removed, is too short to leave an impassible barrier. The mind gets over the abhorred vacuum, and its weakened energies expand beyond it. It is by removing the next, and greater element, of our advancement, by destroying the influence of woman on society, and with it the generous emotions, the exalting influence of love, that the progress of mankind has been most effectually checked. It is where the female character is so degraded, that its etherial influence is no longer felt, that this sign of divinity has failed to exhibit itself—where from infancy man has been taught to look upon woman as a soulless toy, and woman to act as if unconscious of a higher destiny. The same effect has been else where produced by her exclusion from society, and resorting to physical deformity of a kind producing sloth of body, dependence and a consequent want of mental energy. Restore the soul of woman, and the Mahometans would soon have a better, and a brighter revelation. Suffer the feet of Chinese women to grow, and the men could not long retain their grovelling, slavish dispositions, nor the government, its narrow and exclusive policy.

It is worthy of remark, that a religion adapted to the wants of the etherial nature, must, like it, possess a susceptibility to never ending expansion.. It must continually exhibit higher and better state of existence than that to which we have arrived ; and consequently the professors of such a religion will always be manifestly short of its teachings, while the professors of a rigid finite system of ethics may fulfil every tittle of their law. The Christian dispensation certainly appears to possess this wonderful adaptation. Its broad principles include the whole duty of man, and apply in every stage of his progression. Like the source from whence they emanate, they always fill our views of perfection. It were to be wished, that the remarks which we have just made, would account for all the acknowledged defalcations of those who profess to be the followers of its great founder. How delightful would it be to draw at once an illustration and a How encouraging

confirmation from such a source.

to believe, that we had improved and were still improving, though the horizon of perfection recedes as we advance. We fear, however, that we must look to other causes, for at least a portion of the disparity between the profession and practice of Christians.

177

STANZAS.

BY ALBERT G. GREENE.

OH think not that the bosom's light
Must dimly shine, its fire be low,
Because it doth not all invite

To feel its warmth and share its glow.
The altar's strong and steady blaze
On all around may coldly shine,
But only genial warmth conveys

To those who gather near the shrine.
The lamp within the festal hall

Doth not more clear and brightly burn,
Than that, which shrouded by the pall,
Lights but the cold funereal urn.

The fire which lives through one brief hour,
More sudden heat perchance reveals,
Than that, whose tenfold strength and power
Its own unmeasured depth conceals.
Brightly the summer cloud may glide
But bear no heat within its breast,
Though all its gorgeous folds are dyed
In the full glories of the West:
"T is that which through the darkened sky,
Surrounded by no radiance, sweeps,

In which, concealed from every eye,

The wild and vivid lightning sleeps.

Do the dull flint, the rigid steel,
Which thou within thy hand may'st hold.
Unto thy sight or touch reveal

The hidden power which they enfold?
But take those cold, unyielding things,
And beat their edges till you tire,-
And every atom forth that springs,
Is a bright spark of living fire :-
Each particle, so dull and cold

Until the blow that woke it came,
Did still within it slumbering hold

A power to wrap the world in flame.

What is there, when thy sight is turned.
To the volcano's icy crest,

By which the fire can be discerned
That rages in its silent breast;
Which hidden deep, but quenchless still,
Is at its work of sure decay,

And will not cease to burn, until
It wears its giant heart away.
The mountain's side upholds in pride

Its head amid the realms of snow,

And gives its bosom depth to hide

The burning mass which lies below.

While thus in things of sense alone,

Such truths from sense lie still concealed,

How can the living heart be known,,

Its secret, inmost depths revealed.
Oh, many an overburdened soul

Has been at last to madness wrought,
While proudly struggling to control

Its burning and consuming thought;
When it had sought communion long,

And had been doomed in vain to seek,
For feelings far too deep and strong

For heart to bear or tongue to speak.

RHODE ISLAND DURING THE REVOLUTION.

BY THE HON. WILLIAM HUNTER.

THE first blows struck in our Revolution in an obscure village of a remote, and almost unknown country, seem to have been heard all over the world. The inhabitants of Europe seemed roused as from the trance of ages, and soon from anxious spectators, became generous and animated actors. We had as our friends, and fellow combatants, the patriotic and chivalrous spirits of Poland-Pulaski and Kosciusko. The gallant and accomplished Fersen, of Sweden. The tacticians and disciplinarians of Austria and Prussia, De Kalb and Steuben. We mustered in our train the flower of the French nobility. The mind of Europe was with us; and