came strong, though without strength; they became safe, without the ordinary means of safety. The constable's staff was the only instrument of authority amongst them for the greater part of a century, and never during the administration of Penn, or that of his proper successors, was there a quarrel or a war." Greater than the divinity that doth hedge a king, is the divinity that encompasses the righteous man, and the righteous people. The flowers of prosperity smiled in the blessed foot-prints of William Penn. His people were unmolested and happy, while (sad but true contrast!) those of other colonies, acting upon the policy of the world, building forts, and showing themselves in arms, not after receiving provocation, but merely in the anticipation, or from the fear, of insults or danger, were harassed by perpetual alarms, and pierced by the sharp arrows of savage war. This pattern of a Christian commonwealth never fails to arrest the admiration of all who contemplate its beauties. It drew an epigram of eulogy from the caustic pen of Voltaire, and has been fondly painted by many virtuous historians. Every ingenuous soul in our day offers his willing tribute to those celestial graces of justice and humanity, by the side of which the flinty hardness of the pilgrims of Plymouth Rock seems earthly and coarse. Let us not confine ourselves to barren words in recognition of virtue. While we see the right, and approve it, too, let us dare to pursue it. Let us now, in this age of civilization, surrounded by Christian nations, be willing to follow the successful example of William Penn, surrounded by savages. Let us, while we recognize these transcendent ordinances of God, the law of right and the law of love-the double suns which illumine the moral universe-aspire to the true glory, and what is higher than glory, the great good of taking the lead in the disarming of the nations: Let us abandon the system of preparation for war in time of peace, as irrational, unchristian, vainly prodigal of expense, and having a direct tendency to excite the very evil against which it professes to guard. Let the enormous means thus released from iron hands, be devoted to labors of beneficence. Our battlements shall be schools, hospitals, colleges and churches; our arse nals shall be libraries; our navy shall be peaceful ships on errands of perpetual commerce; our army shall be the teachers of youth, and the ministers of religion. This is indeed, the cheap defense of the nations. In such entrenchments what Christian soul can be touched with fear. Angels of the Lord shall throw over the land an invisible, but impenetrable panoply: Or if virtue feeble were, Heaven itself would stoop to her. At the thought of such a change in policy, the imagination loses itself in the vain effort to follow the various streams of happiness, which gush forth as from a thousand hills. Then shall the naked be clothed and the hungry fed. Institutions of science and learning shall crown every hilltop; hospitals for the sick, and other retreats for the unfortunate children of the world, for all who suffer in any way, in mind, body or estate, shall nestle in every valley; while the spires of new churches shall leap exulting to the skies. The whole land shall bear witness to the change; art shall confess it in the new inspiration of the canvas and the marble; the harp of the poet shall proclaim it in a loftier rhyme. Above all, the heart of man shall bear witness to it, in the elevation of his sentiments, in the expansion of his affections, in his devotion to the highest truth, in his appreciation of true greatThe eagle of our country,-without the terror of his beak, and dropping the forceful thunderbolt from his pounces, -shall soar with the olive-branch of Peace, into untried realms of ether, nearer to the sun. ness. SHELLING PEAS.-C. P. CRANCH. No, Tom, you may banter as much as you please; So I felt kind o' stuffy and proud, and took care But you wouldn't have thought it; that girl never keered Well, here's how it was. I was takin' some berries All alone in the shade, that June mornin', was she- But she heard me a movin', and looked a bit frightened, Jest fresh from the vines, which she held on her knees. 66 Some folks says you're goin' to marry him, though." says she; and she flared up like tow When you throw in a match. "Well, some folks that I know." ""Taint true, sir," says she. And she snapped a big pod, Till the peas, right and left, flew all over the sod. Then I looked in her eyes, but she only looked down With a blush that she tried to chase off with a frown. "Then it's somebody else you like better," says I. "No, it ain't though," says she: and I thought she would cry. Then I tried to say somethin': it stuck in my throat, But I said I knew somebody'd loved her so long- If she only could love him!-I hardly supposed That she cared for him much, though. And so, Tom,-and so,- I can talk of these things like a book now, you see. You may tease me now, Tom, just as much as you please. THE OLD PROFESSOR. The old professor taught no more, "And let me hear these boys recite." As we passed out we heard him say, 'Pray, leave me here awhile alone, Here in my old place let me stay, Just as I did in years long flown." Our tutor smiled, and bowed assent, Rose courteous from his high-backed chair, From out the shadows faces seemed And faces that had lost their youth, "These are my boys," he murmured then; "And is it, then, so long ago This chapter in my life was told? They found him there, with open book, There used to be when fellows went KENTUCKY BELLE.-CONSTANCE F. WOOLSON. Summer of 'sixty-three, sir, and Conrad was gone away- Conrad, he took the oxen, but he left Kentucky Belle. to me When I rode North with Conrad, away from the Tennessee. |