104 Original. BY BISHOP MORRIS. TRAVELING. YOUR correspondent, a native of the United States, has never visited any foreign lands, and does not desire to do so, as he prefers "the land of the brave and the home of the free;" but he has some experience in traveling in our own beloved country. Of course he writes not for the entertainment of those who have feasted their eyes on the mountain scenery of Italy, surveyed the catacombs and pyramids of Egypt, braved the sirocco of Arabian deserts, or wandered amidst the sacred relics of the Holy Land; but with the hope of benefiting some who have not traveled at all. Americans are a migratory people; the facilities for traveling are increasing; distant points are apparently brought near together; much conversation on the part of those who have been abroad, renders them familiar to all, and a general spirit of passing to and fro is cultivated. Many who have never been distant from the place of their nativity, seem to think they lack but one thing to render them happy, that is, to travel and see the world; || and they long to be on the go. Some desire chiefly to behold the distant city with its domes and steeples; some to scale the lofty Alleghanies, those "majestic pyramids of nature;" while others are impatient to explore the new countries of the far-famed west, strangely supposing that the nearer they get toward where the sun goes down, the more paradisiacal will be their situation. Now it is for the special benefit of those infected with this restless spirit of migration, that your correspondent begs leave to submit a few thoughts. But all these objects soon lose their novelty, and with it much of their attractive charms, leaving the weary traveler possessed of few pleasures in comparison of his numerous discomforts. Before commencing a long journey there are the expense, care, and toil of making preparation. Then comes the pain of parting with family and friends, it may be, to see them no more. Should the journey be prosperous and end in a safe return, still it will not be performed without corroding care and sleepless nights, on account of the home interest, especially if the absence be long, and the tourist unaccustomed to it. Females, particularly, are liable, under such circumstances, to become "home-sick;" and when this disease once gets firmly seated on the heart, it destroys all the pleasure of traveling, engrossing at once both thought and feeling. The inconveniences and difficulties of extended journies are not all imaginary. At one time the traveler is oppressed with heat, parched with feverish thirst, and nearly suffocated with clouds of dust; at another time he is stung with cold, impeded by ice, or in peril from the sweeping current of the swollen stream. Again, as soon as he leaves the M'Adamized road, he will find himself alternately contending with rocky hills and muddy vales, with a little sprinkling of Davy Crocket's railroad, made by laying poles crosswise in the track, to prevent the carriage from being entirely swamped. It is said that riding on these causeways, is good exercise for an invalid, especially one of conjested liver, but it is certainly not a pleasant remedy. To these commonplace evils, which discount so largely from the pleasures of travel, must he added exposure to inclement weather. That the American traveler enjoys some pleasures It is extremely unpleasant to grope all night in darkwhich he cannot command at home, is readily admit-ness, exposed to a chilly atmosphere, and the more so ted. In mid-winter it is decidedly grateful to the sense if pelted by a continuous storm of rain, sleet or snow; of feeling, to inhale the balmy zephyrs of the south, as they rustle through the boughs of the live oak and the broad green leaves of the magnolia, wafting soft notes of melody from nature's musicians-the feathered tribes of every hue. It is no less delightful in summer to be fanned by the refreshing breezes of the Green Mountain or White Mountain of the north. Moreover, it satisfies one's curiosity to gaze on the extended prairy of the west; for on entering it for the first time, the surprised traveler, like the inexperienced voyager, is ready to exclaim, "The sea, the sea, the open sea!" and when he reaches the middle of it, and passes some deep ravine, where the distant forest is concealed from view, he may carry out the figure by saying, "We are out of sight of land." It is equally pleasant to others to stand on the shores of our inland seas the lakes-whitened with sails of commerce and bordered with new and flourishing villages. To some it would appear at least novel, to be conveyed perfectly at their ease twenty miles an hour, by a railroad locomotive; while others would regard it as quite desirable to traverse our eastern cities, thronged with moving multitudes of every nation-wander among the shipping of the crowded port, and see "old ocean heave.' for such wear and tear upon a passenger's constitution, affects his spirit, and suggests thoughts of a severe illness, where he would be at the mercy of uninterested strangers. But suppose him to escape this, still he is subject to a score of nameless perplexities which must be borne, because they cannot be avoided. Among the trials of his patience are those which arise from delays and disappointed expectation of getting on his journey. A freshet may carry off the ferry or bridge, his only dependence for crossing some river, or he may be journeying where there is none to lose, and find himself at a dead halt till the flood subsides. The coach may break down where it cannot be repaired, or the boat may get aground or break a shaft, and leave him on a bleak sand-bar, or desolate shore, to shift for himself. What is still worse, deception will be palmed on him, by interested and unprincipled men. Systematic imposition on strangers, is a regular part of the trade of many individuals and companies, whose business is to convey passengers in steamboats and stages. Your correspondent speaks here from woful experience, and may be indulged in giving one or two examples, commencing with a trip on the Ohio river. According to the printed bills, the boat will leave four bits." But not so, generally, at stage houses. Whatever the fare may be, the bill is always up to high water mark. But let that pass-we off again, and are making some headway. "this day, at 4 o'clock," and beside the bill, a positive | whom I heard in the southwest, whose bill of fare and verbal promise is given by the proper officer of punc-prices was in this laconic style: "Corn-bread and homtuality. Deceived by fair speeches, smoking chimnies, ony doings, two bits; flour-bread and chicken doings, and other appearances of preparation, you bring your baggage aboard, and in conformity to the rules of the cabin, enter your name, with the full expectation of presently being under way. Toward dark they blow off steam and ring the bell, as if about to clear; but it After dinner is a dull hour of the day, especially proves to be only a maneuver to ascertain whether a to those who have lost rest and sleep, and the passensufficient number of passengers can be obtained togers are soon dozing; but their pleasure is very shortmake a profitable trip. They fail to appear, the fire is lowered, and you are informed they cannot get ready to leave till to-morrow morning, and if you really get off by to-morrow night, it will be well, unless they are forced out sooner by competition. Now this, to one pressed for time to accomplish the object of his jour-provoking, after paying for the privilege of riding, to ney, or on his return trip, attracted by the considera tion of "Home, home, sweet, sweet home," is sufficient to put the virtue of patience to a severe test. Again, on leaving this floating prison, you hasten to the stage-office, pay the fare, and are pleased to read on the bills, "Splendid Troy built coaches, first rate teams, steady drivers, good accommodation, and through in lived, for before they have half finished their nap, they are roused by a modest request of the driver to get out and foot it up a long ascent, or over a layer of black loam too deep for the loaded stage to pass through, and rather soft for comfortable walking. It is not a little be constantly afflicted with wet and muddy feet, by being obliged to walk over every difficult piece of road. Still it might be worse, far worse; for sometimes the stage gets wrong side up, and throws the passengers all in a heap; then all whose bones are not fractured, will be expected to take hold with the driver and assist in replacing it, which is not remarkably pleasant, to say the least, especially if the coach be very muddy. After all these difficulties, you may get through, though long after the time appointed, and have at least this conso cumstances, is great cause of gratitude. - hours." Congratulating yourself on the happy change, you set off with fine spirit, in a fine new coach, drawn by elegant grays, and manned by a de-lation left, you are still alive, which, under all the circent looking coachman; but alas, shortly after you are transferred to an old worn out establishment, with ragged cushions, broken doors, polluted in appearance, drawn by old Ring-bone, Splint-leg, Club-foot, and Wheezer, which ought to have been discharged from the service years ago. The driver, degraded by dissipation and crime, is more to be pitied than his team. He stops at every tavern, except those which hang out the temperance sign, and when stimulated till he feels his own importance, but can no longer observe the difference between a level plain and steep ascent, loses his temper, and curses and beats his jaded team, for the mere love of the cruel sport. Some relief is afforded the distressed passenger from his unpleasant situation for a few minutes, by arriving at the dinner stand, where he expects not only to be provided with a fresh team and sober driver, but also to be refreshed with some of the good accommodation referred to in the bill. However, the stage is behind the time, and what was lost on the last drive must be made up on the next; and before the hungry passenger gets fairly engaged at his dinner, the impatient driver blows his horn as the signal for starting; so that, in the end, the good accommodation turns out to be a very hasty meal, only half finished, on cold scraps and bread about half baked. They who keep stage passengers know that the customer is compelled to stop where the stage does, and to eat such as is set before him, or starve. Now all this would be quite tolerable, if the expense was in keeping with the quality of the dinner and the time allowed for eating it—in a word, if the pay was in proportion to the accommodation, after the manner of a public house kept by an honest lady of 14 Exhausted with such scenes of toil, vexation, and exposure, the weary traveler longs for a change, such as will afford opportunity of rest and slumber. Well, here is the steam packet to convey him over the lake, or round the coast. This would be delightful, only for a few considerations, such as liability of being wrecked by storm, as in case of the HOME, or destruction by fire, of boat and life, as in case of the LEXINGTON, OF by explosion, as in case of the MOSELLE. It is true, we may hope to escape such fearful calamities as these, when voyaging on the deep, but there is one scourge which seldom suffers any to pass unhurt, namely, the sea-sickness, the very thought of which is appalling for weeks after. It is the most deathly feeling which I ever experienced, and I can scarcely conceive how any one could live through it in crossing the main ocean. Under the prostrating influence of this lothsome disorder, the voyager longs for the port of destination, that he may once more stand erect on solid ground, and feel composed. But when he arrives, trouble of another sort meets him; before he clears the deck, he is surrounded by a swarm of porters, ravenous as hungry wolves, clamoring and scrambling for his baggage, as if the life of each depended on obtaining a few cents for the service of carrying it to the hotel; and should it once get out of his sight for one minute, he might think himself fortunate if he ever saw or heard of it again. Some of these difficulties, it is admitted, may be avoided by traveling in a private conveyance, as far as that mode is practicable, which on some accounts is much preferable; but it will require more sacrifice of 106 THE HARP OF DAVID. time, impose on you much more care and fatigue upon the whole, and taking the wear and tear of horses and carriage into the account, will not in any wise reduce the expense. These are some of the ordinary discomforts of journeying. While suffering them you very soon get clear of hundreds of dollars, perhaps earned by the toil and care of years, and which might be laid out to much better advantage. The time is gone, the money is gone, your wardrobe is exhausted, your business neglected and deranged; and what is gained by this sacrifice? Why, a momentary gratification of curiosity, and the honor of saying you have been abroad, have traveled through more states than one, and have seen a few things which some of your neighbors have not The pleasure of all this, if there be any left after deducting the discomfort, is too dearly bought. It costs more than it comes to. seen. To perform a journey when business, health, or duty requires it, is certainly well enough; but to me it is matter of wonder that any one should ever travel for pleasure, more especially any one who has any practical knowledge on the subject. Original. THE HARP OF DAVID. BY REV. L. B. GURLEY. MANY instances are related of the power of music over the passions of man; but none surpasses in interest the triumphs of the harp of the son of Jesse, Where did the youthful David acquire his skill in the science of harmony? This is a question we leave to the curious. Instrumental music may be traced to a period beyond the flood. Moses informs us that Jubal was the "father of all such as handle the harp and the organ." But there were music and poetry before the harp and the organ were thought of. The soul of man is attuned to harmony; and no instrument can surpass in effect the melody of the human voice. Doubtless, the first lovely pair of our race made vocal the groves of Eden with strains of holy melody. The shepherd's reed may have been the instrument on which the sweet singer of Israel first tried his skill. But his was a soul which could take lessons of nature herself-nature, whose garments were the clouds, Whose minstrels brooks, whose lamps the moon and stars, Whose organ choir the voice of many waters." He read the heavens, the "work of God's fingers, the moon and stars which he had ordained." He caught the wild moaning of the mountain winds-he heard the stern voice of the maddening tempest-he lis that was moving, and all that was inspiring in their tones, he transferred to his obedient harp. Its notes were heard from the shadowing willow, when noonday beams descended; and they mingled with the bleating of his flock, when the dews of evening fell on the hills of Judea. A poet has sweetly sung— In reference to a Christian, the worst of the story remains to be told. Traveling is unfavorable to religious prosperity. It divides the attention and dissipates serious thought-breaks off the regular course of duty, depriving the Christian traveler of the means of grace and the society of his religious friends. Beside, it throws him into taverns, steamboats and stages, crowd-tened to the whisper of the evening zephyr; and all ed chiefly with the careless, fashionable, dissipated, and profane, with whom it is difficult to be associated in any way, except for the purpose of imparting religious instruction, without sustaining spiritual loss. On this subject I can speak with the more confidence, a word of admonition to my Christian friends, having proved by experience the truth of what I say. There is nothing better for the Christian than to be generally at home, "Not slothful in business; fervent in spirit; serving the Lord." And now, if any of your readers, who are tired of home, and anxious to make an experiment of the blessedness of packing trunks and band-boxes over mountains, to visit places of fashionable resort, &c., can profit aught by these few hints from one who has journeyed much-not, indeed, for pleasure or profit, but on duty, they are heartily welcome, and the object of this communication will be accomplished. IMPROMPTU. He guides with light, and guards with love. H. "Full many a gem of purest ray serene, The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear; And waste its sweetness on the desert air." But no such destiny awaited David. The fame of the shepherd's harp spread far and wide. It even reached the royal palace; and the minstrel was summoned to play in the presence of Saul. This sovereign had incurred the displeasure of God, by sparing alive Agag, from an impulse of vanity, that he might make a triumphant display of his success in arms. The Spirit of God departed from him, and, moreover, an "evil spirit from the Lord troubled him." Dark, proud, and sullen, the soul of the ejected monarch felt all the bitterness of remorse. The voice of God had pronounced his doom, but he struggled hard against the decree of Heaven. And there were seasons when all the darkness of despair enshrouded himwhen his brow gathered gloom like the darkening thunder cloud; and the storm of passions raged in his bosom; and the maniac's glare was gentleness to the aspect of his troubled countenance. Who it was that suggested the tones of a harp to soothe his troubled spirit we are not distinctly informed; but it must have been one who had felt on his own soul THE MESSIAH. its subduing influence. The fabled lyre of Orpheus, it | is said, moved the surrounding rocks, and enchanted the listening trees with its enrapturing minstrelsy. But David's harp was brought to soften the haughty spirit of a man forsaken of his God, and given up to the hardness of his own heart. It was a wondrous task. If the youthful minister often trembles beneath the cross, what must have been the feelings of the young shepherd as he entered the royal apartments, and appeared before the throne! Hitherto he had touched his harp amid embowering groves, or in the shepherd's tent-did he not turn pale as he gazed on the troubled countenance of the fallen king? See, he lifts his eyes to heaven, and brings down his hand upon the wires of his well tried harp-he touches its finest chords and brings forth notes of sorrow. They vibrate along the excited nerves of the stricken monarch, and reach the fount of feeling in his bosom. The imprisoned tears gush forth and roll in burning streams down the warrior's cheek, and the rebel king sits convicted, overwhelmed, and subdued. What gave to the harp of David its wondrous power? was it merely the tones of the instrument, or was it the power of song? Doubtless both were used with effect; but it was the inspiration of Heaven which gave to that harp its victory-doubtless, as his hand struck its sounding strings, his lips were touched with hallowed fire. O, what is music from a cold heart and thoughtless tongue! "Give us thoughts that breathe and words that burn," and souls on fire with celestial love, and then give us harmony, and melody and concert, and emphasis; and then, indeed, we may "sing unto the Lord, and make a joyful noise unto the Rock of our salvation"'-we may come before him with thanksgiv-| ing, and make a joyful noise unto him with psalms; and the blessed effect will even surpass the wondrous triumph of the harp of David. Original. VITAL SPARK. BY MISS BAKER. THE closing eyes were dim and dark, I look'd, and lo! its latest spark No ray of light was glimmering there, Did the bright beam of heavenly light, O, no! it shines with purer light, Beyond the gloom of death's dark night. Original. THE MESSIAH. BY REV. S. A. LATTA. 107 WHILE first-born prophets looked through distant time, Of Bethlehem's Star, which shed his effluent beams For unto you is born a Savior, who Is Christ the Lord-whose reign shall never end- The infant Majesty of earth and heaven. 108 Original. CLOSE THOUGHT.* BY REV. E. THOMSON. CLOSE THOUGHT. 2. Ir has often been remarked that original discovery may be -original thought, is generally accidental. It so apparently, but not really. Two facts may satisfy us of this. Ignorant men are not discoverers. New truths are revealed only to patient observers, and bold and persevering inquirers. Who discovered the circulation of the blood? Not the ignorant, thoughtless butcher; but the scientific, reflecting anatomist. Who discovered the asteroids? They who by years of reflection and observation were led to suspect their exist ence. Who revealed the laws of the heavens? He who, for a life-time, had laid his head in intense and untiring thought about them. The least exertion may be sufficient to make a fortunate discovery, when a mind is filled with the rich results of long reflection; whereas the same reflection on the part of an unfurnished mind may be utterly unproductive-as the weight of a grain may turn a scale-beam against a ton, after nearly twenty hundred weight have been put into the opposite dish. It frequently happens that discoveries are made simultaneously in different parts of the world; but rarely is a discovery made in advance of the age. Roger Bacon is the only remarkable example of a mind outstripping the race by ages, and the Pope excommunicated him and imprisoned him ten years for supposed dealings with the devil. The human mind, during the dark ages, scarce ever shot a spark into the regions of science; but when the intellectual night receded, the beams of a thousand stars mingled their light for the illumination of Europe, and each nation had her constellation. Simultaneous discoveries are the legitimate offspring of the times. The discoveries do not illustrate the age, but the age develops the discoveries. They are the necessary results of the accumulations of generations of excitement, and ages of progressive thought. |barrister of one of our eastern cities is said to employ a style which is the personification of simplicity, and yet he is perhaps more studious and laborious in his preparations for the bar than all his competitors. A little tract sometimes costs more labor than a volume. The perfected composition, like the finished edifice, is the result of double toil, labor in erecting, and labor in removing the scaffolding, and scraping away the traces of the tools. It is said of Pericles, "who lightened, thundered, and astonished Greece," that he never spake extempore, nor even ventured to deliver an opinion without ample preparation. Virgil occupied ten years in writing six books of the Ænead. Not a single page of fine writing was ever produced without much intellectual effort; a solitary sentence may express the result of years of thought. The harvest may be gathered in a day, but plowing and planting and growth require time. If inspiration may be relied on, why does it not operate upon the indolent as well as the active, the fool as well as the wise man? He, who, too idle to think, sits and sighs, and invokes the Muses, will drink the Lethean, sooner than the Pierian spring. 4. The privileges of the University will not supply the want of thought; but strong, continuous thought, will atone for the want of them. I hope that this remark will neither be misunderstood, nor misrepresented. I trust I am as deeply impressed with the value of classical studies as any man ought to be; though I regard them not as education itself, but as its instruments. Their chief value results from the mental discipline which they afford. How sadly mistaken, then, is he, who relies upon his literary privileges merely, for future greatness. He selects the best University, matriculates regularly, carelessly cons his lessons, but slurs over every difficult passage; relies much upon the aid of his superior classmates, and places his head upon the recitation bench in the vain hope that the intellects of others operating upon his passive soul, will mold him into a genius, as the hammer of the blacksmith shapes the iron upon his anvil into a horse-shoe. Verily such an one has his reward-a sheep-skin. But can the drone 3. It may be objected that the happiest productions thus purchase mental power with his father's gold? in the department of taste, at least, are often the sudden No. Nature spurns the insulting proposition, and effusions of moments of inspiration. Granting that an says, Thy money perish with thee." Better for such extraordinary genius may take happy flights in unpre-an one that he had never opened a page of Virgil or of pared moments, is that any reason why ordinary minds Homer-that the temple of science had for ever closed should wait for poetic breathing? In judging of the its gates against him. At the termination of his collelabor expended upon any given production, an unprac-giate course, the University clothes him with its honors; ticed composer may be deceived. That which smells 66 most of the lamp is not really the most elaborate. A the world expects him to stand "a man;" the father celebrated critic pronounced the finest writing to be such fondly looks to him for a realization of the delusive dream he had indulged concerning his cherished idol. as a reader would imagine exceedingly easy to equal, He enters upon the duties of active life; but, lo! perand yet such, that whoever should attempt to imitate, would perspire over his task. It is the half-finished haps in the very first collision with the vigorous mind of the self-taught woodsman, he is demonstrated to be production which leaves the marks of labor. a learned fool. He deserves the sting of scorpions; but his mortification is keener than the lash of an exterminating angel. This is no fancy sketch. It has many in real life. Nor is it much to be wondered prototypes at; but it is strange, passing strange, that so many of the modern "improvements" in the plan of education A distinguished clergyman of my acquaintance, whenever he preached a long, and learned, and involved sermon, generally apologized by saying that he had not time to prepare a short and simple one. A celebrated *Concluded from page 83. |