circumstances and ours, as to render a meaner taste, and lower objects of pursuit reasonable in us their descendants? To young people just awaking from the dreams of childhood, and becoming capable of observation and reflection, is not this fair world with the interesting phenomena of nature, in fact, as new as it was to its first inhabitants? Have not they also every thing to see, to investigate, and to admire? True, this earth has now existed nearly six thousand years; and the works of nature have been explored and admired by the intellectual of mankind, in every successive generation. Yet, to the youth of this generation, it is as it were a new creation: the young are new to themselves; and all that surrounds them is novel. The language of Adam, describing his emotions upon the first starting into being, may be adopted by every truly intelligent young person, in reference to the time when they first began to think and to observe. "Straight toward heaven my wondering eyes I turned, -About me round I saw Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains, And happy they, who like him, discerning the great "Tell me how I may know him, how adore!" But is it not equally strange and lamentable, when, so far from admiration being awakened, and curiosity excited by the beautiful and sublime objects of creation, and the great secrets of nature, the mind is satisfied with the most trifling pursuits and childish amusements?-when alternate attention to dress, visiting, and superficial acquirements, are suffered to engross all the time, or at least to engage all the interest? If Milton had represented our mother Eve, when not occupied by the concerns of the domestic bower, as devoting her leisure hours to binding flowers in wreaths and garlands, wherewith to adorn herself if he had told us that she and Adam spent their evenings in playing with pebbles, dancing on the turf, or in idle conversation; and that they rose and retired to rest without any devout acknowledgements to their Maker; we should certainly have considered it a most absurd, unfair, and degrading representation, even after they had fallen from their first estate. Yet how many of their descendents are there, even in the most civilized and evangelized parts of the globe, whose time is spent to no better purpose! A young lady who rises without prayer, or with only a heartless and formal performance of it, who spends her morning in preparing ornaments of dress, or in pursuits equally trifling, and devotes her evening to gay amusements, or even to the more creditable recreation of sober visiting, and returning weary or dissipated, forgets to call upon God, is surely no less unmindful of the dignity of her nature, and the great ends of her existence. Perhaps the subjoined stanzas may serve to illustrate our subject, by exemplifying the difference between a trifling and an intellectual taste. It was a pleasant winter's night; The sky was clear and the stars were bright, But all within was warm and tight; And the fire-flame cast a flashing light On the carpet red, and the ceiling white, Here Anne and Martha idly sit, And both are tired of play; And Anne was tired of Martha's chat, About the trimming to her hat, For her mother had said (she was sure of that) So rising as quickly as she could, Anne went to the window, and there she stood: And she was pleased to stand and see And what soft light and shade were shed And what a sheet of light was spread Then roved her eye from star to star, And as she had not wings to fly Their gentle mother enters now, She forms the bow, she twines the band; Nor think that thoughtful Anne defers Yet that fair ribbon, bright and new, Scarce cared she if 't was green or blue : Than 'ere, with nicest art, was wrought With ribbon, pearl, or lace. As years increased, still Anne inclined While Martha strove, with equal care, XII. SOLILOQUIES OF THE OLD PHILOSOPHER AND THE YOUNG LADY. "ALAS!" exclaimed a silver-headed sage, "how narrow is the utmost extent of human knowledge! how circumscribed the sphere of intellectual exertion! I have spent my life in acquiring knowledge, but how little do I know! The farther I attempt to penetrate the secrets of nature, the more I am bewildered and benighted. Beyond a certain limit all is but confusion or conjecture: so that the advantage of the learned over the ignorant consists greatly in having ascertained how little is to be known. |