piness, and leave some not dishonorable memorial of ourselves for their regard when we shall sleep with the fathers,we protract our own earthly being, and seem to crowd whatever is future, as well as all that is past, into the narrow compass of our earthly existence. As it is not a vain and false, but an exalted and religious imagination, which leads us to raise our thought from the orb which, amidst this universe of worlds, the Creator has given us to inhabit, and to send them with something of the feeling which nature prompts, and teaches to be proper among children of the same Eternal Parent, to the contemplation of the myriads of fellow-beings, with which his goodness has peopled the infinite of space; so neither is it false or vain to consider ourselves as interested or connected with our whole race through all time; allied to our ancestors; allied to our posterity; closely compacted on all sides with others; ourselves being but links in the great chain of being, which begins with the origin of our race, runs onward through its successive generations, binding together the past, the present, and the future, and terminating, at last, with the consummation of all things earthly, at the throne of God.

There may be, and there often is, indeed, a regard for ancestry, which nourishes only a weak pride; as there is also a care for posterity, which only disguises an habitual avarice, or hides the workings of a low and grovelling vanity. But there is, also, a moral and philosophical respect for our ancestors, which elevates the character and improves the heart. Next to the sense of religious duty and moral feeling, I hardly know what should bear with stronger obligation on a liberal and enlightened mind, than a consciousness of alliance with excellence which is departed; and a consciousness, too, that, in its acts and conduct, and even in its sentiments, it may be actively operating on the happiness of those who come after it. Poetry is found to have few stronger conceptions, by which it would affect or overwhelm the mind, than those in which it presents the moving and speaking image of the departed dead to the senses of the living. This belongs to poetry only because it is congenial to our nature. Poetry is, in this respect, but the handmaid of true philosophy and morality. It deals with us as human beings, naturally reverencing those whose visible connection with this state of being is severed, and who may yet exercise, we know not what sympathy with ourselves;-and when it carries us forward,

also, and shows us the long-continued result of all the good we do, in the prosperity of those who follow us, till it bears us from ourselves, and absorbs us in an intense interest for what shall happen to the generations after us, it speaks only in the language of our nature, and affects us with sentiments which belong to us as human beings.

IN THE DIALECT

Of Christianity, Usefulness is the measure of Greatness. THE decision of our faith on the subject of greatness is conveyed in a few impressive words. When the disciples were contending which should be the greatest, their Master said, "Whoever would be chief among you, let him be your servant.' Now, by 'servant,' we understand, one who performs a service for another in hope of a reward; and as to his being 'chief,' we understand it as referring to a future life, where they that have been humble on earth shall be exalted, and the proud brought low. But this is a wretched limitation of its meaning. To us, these words seem to be meant as a definition of true glory. Their meaning spreads and deepens beneath our view, and instead of applying to a single relation of human life, they are found to be a guide to human greatness, and a measure for human applause. They show that the things commonly supposed to be high, are not so in reality; and in this new dialect of Christianity, to be respectable, means to be useful, and they that are of most service to others, are actually the chief among men.

We have no doubt that the time will come when usefulness will be the measure of glory, and the amount of energy spent in the service of others, will form the only efficient claim to the admiration of enlightened minds. But now, this matter is but poorly understood. In the common walks of life, men seem ambitious to reach that state where they can be most idle and useless; and they are so weak and blind as to reverence those who injure and destroy them, more than those who endeavor to do them good. To serve others, is counted hardship, humiliation, and self-denial, and men profess to submit to it in the hope of a future reward; but in reality, to serve others is honorable; to do good, though in humble ways, is honorable, and the greatest among men are

those who labor with the greatest powers and the warmest self-devotion in the service of their fellow men.

The doctrine of Christianity on this subject, is that of sense and reason, but it is not the one that prevails in the world. To be able to command the services of others, and render nothing in return; to be able to sit in state, and see others tremble; to be able to let all the faculties of body and mind rest in lazy luxury; to have a right to cumber the ground by a useless existence, is the exalted condition which has inspired most human ambition. And this idle and false impression sprang from savage life. Man, in his wild and unimproving, and therefore his unnatural state, abhors activity of body or mind. Nothing but hunger, necessity, or overpowering passion can rouse the savage to exertion, and when the excitement is over, he rejoices to subside to rest. This, as might be expected, is still the feeling of the uncultivated among civilized men. The savage state is that of war, and as we have inherited its taste for war, we have also borrowed from it our notions of greatness and glory.

Even the ancient prophets, when collecting their ideas of greatness to form the character of God, being obliged to give such representations as men could understand, encouraged and sustained this impression. They adored him simply as a God of power. They thought of him as sitting in the solitude of his unapproachable glory. They had no idea of a being present at all times in all parts of the vast creation, moving and upholding all by his might. They did not know what was truly great. Therefore, they degraded the divine character in reality, while they were exalting it in the eyes of men. Nothing could be more natural than that an error so universal, should lead to excesses; and we conceive that military glory rests on this foundation. If it was not honorable to serve men, it was but one step further to count it honorable to injure and destroy them; and hence it is, that the names of so many who deserved to die for their crimes, are yet floating on the admiring breath of men, their glory measured by the lands they have desolated and filled with mourning, and by the rivers of blood they have caused to flow; and this path of glory leads to a greatness almost equally unfeeling, guilty, and revolting. Such was the empire which crowned the treason to the human race, of the Cæsars of old, and the Napoleons of modern time.

But we take encouragement from the thought that the

world is opening its eyes. There is no longer, among enlightened men at least, so blind and passionate an admiration of these great offenders; and it is hardly necessary to say that when the admiration ceases, the ambition will soon go down. We feel grateful to our religion for opening this new path of distinction, though it is not yet beaten hard by the numbers that have walked therein. The rich man is not so much flattered in his uselessness; the warrior no longer feels as if he could carve out a durable monument with his sword alone; the whole heraldry of destroying spirits are growing dim in the morning light. And since men have learned that those are but poisonous laurels that grow on the field of blood, they are beginning to discover that the divinest spirit on earth is that of the living and dying martyr; the one, pressing forward in the service of his race, with a zeal that no ingratitude can depress and no obstacles withstand; the other 'with a face like an angel's,' lighted up by the serenity within, calmly surrendering his life in lingering waste or sudden torture, to extend the blessings of truth, freedom and happiness, to the less favored among men.

If it be asked upon what foundation we rest this hope that useful intellectual exertion will hereafter be the measure of greatness, we may say, in general terms, upon the improvement of the human race. The military passion and the useless greatness which have so long engrossed ambition, are the vestiges of barbarous times, and in proportion as men grow enlightened, they cut themselves loose from these delusions. We have a familiar example in ancient Greece. The military profession was honorable, it is true, because it was essential to the existence of its little states; but we find the command of armies entrusted to orators and statesmen, to those who had given no proofs of military talent, evidently upon the presumption that the greater implied the less; that men who had displayed abilities of the highest order, could not be wanting in the lower attributes of mind. Such must always be the case, as men grow enlightened. Their admiration, their honors, and all that inspires and rewards exertion is transferred to intellectual achievements, and military exploits are valued only when they come under this description. The hero who directs the operations of some vast campaign, anticipating hostile designs, foreseeing and providing for distant chances, planning the vast machinery which seems wild and purposeless to common eyes, but moves on at last like a

decree of fate to its object through a brilliant list of victories, is reverenced for the intellectual resources which he discovers; while the one whose claim to renown rests upon fortunate accidents, or unforeseen and successful actions, who manifests only that courage which every man must be supposed to possess till he has proved himself deficient, and which in its best estate belongs at least as much to the body as the mind, sinks to the level of vulgar applause.

It may be a question, whether more decided usefulness meets as yet with its due measure of applause. But the name of Howard is now a title of honor; and that of Wilberforce is one of those by which the age will be remembered. We could mention other living names which the world delights to honor. And we are not sure that he who adds to the treasures of science, enlarges the boundaries of thought, and inspires in others an ambition to cherish and use the intellectual gifts of God, is less a benefactor to his race, than he who removes the immediate pressure of evils. To make known the laws of the Heavens, confers as substantial benefits on the mariner, as building lighthouses or retreats for the shipwrecked along the shore. But our admiration grows warmer, not according to the benefits received, but the dangers and hardships encountered. This is as it should be. For he is the best friend of man, who promotes the happiness of others at the greatest expense of his own.

No one certainly has more to do than the historian, with this great principle of Christianity. He must regard it in order to keep up with his age. All intellectual improvement throws the religion into bolder relief, and shows how plainly it was intended for a living letter; meant to govern, not only in the action of life, but in the more peaceful province of the mind. If he has the least spark of that interest in his race, without which history should not be written, every page will glow with the spirit of religion; not the cold, unsocial, gloomy spirit that too often bears the name, but with the spirit of philanthropy, with an earnest desire to record every benevolent deed with honor, with a heart that burns within him as he writes it down; and he will do all he can to dispel that insane delusion, to prevent that mad suicide of its best interests, which makes the world worship those who fill it with suffering and drench it with blood, This would interest every historian as a curious problem in moral feeling-that men should regard conscience and duty as a re