which hell has let loose to cut off our young men from without, and our children from the streets? No, it will not. As we have said, the finished gambler has no heart. The club with which he herds, would meet though all its members were in mourning. They would meet, though the place of rendezvous were the chamber of the dying; they would meet, though it were an 12 apartment in the charnel-house. Not even the death of kindred can affect the gambler. He would play he would play upon his his brother's coffin; father's sepulchre. upon Yonder see that wretch, prematurely old in infirmity, as well as in sin. He is the father of a family. The mother of his children, lovely in her tears, strives by the tenderest assiduities, to restore his health, and with it to restore his temperance, his love of home, and the longlost charms of domestic life. She pursues him by her 13 kindness and her entreaties to his haunts of vice; she reminds him of his children; she tells him of their virtues, of their sorrows, of their wants; and she adjures him, by the love of them, and by the love of God, to repent, and to return. Vain attempt! She might as well adjure the whirlwind; she might as well entreat the tiger. The brute has no feeling left. He turns upon her in the spirit of the demons with which he is possessed. He curses his children and her who bare them; and as 14 he prosecutes his game, he fills the intervals with imprecations on himself; with imprecations on his Maker; imprecations borrowed from the dialect of devils, and uttered with a tone that befits only the organs of the damned! And yet in this monster, there once dwelt the spirit of a man. He had talents, he had honor, he had even faith. He might have adorned the senate, the bar, the altar. But alas! his was a faith that saveth not. The gaming-table has robbed him of it, and of all things else worth possessing. What a frightful 15 change of character! What a tremendous wreck, is the soul of man in ruins! Return disconsolate mother to thy dwelling, and be submissive; thou shalt become a widow, and thy chil dren fatherless. Further effort, will be useless-the reformation of thy partner is impossible. God has forsaken him-nor will good angels weep or watch over him any longer. 1 2 3 LESSON CXVII. Death of Marmion at the Battle of Flodden Field.-SCOTT. FAST as shaft can fly, Blood-shot his eyes, his nostrils spread, Lord Marmion's steed rushed by ; To mark he would return in haste Ask me not what the maiden feels, The tumult roared, "Is Wilton there?"— A wounded knight they bore. His hand still strained the broken brand; Said" By Saint George, he's gone! That spear-wound has our master sped; "Unnurtured Blount! thy brawling cease; He opes his eyes." Said Eustace, "peace!"When, doffed his casque, he felt free air, Around 'gan Marmion wildly stare :"Where's Harry Blount? Fitz-Eustace where ? 5 Linger ye here, ye hearts of hare! Redeem my pennon,-charge again! Cry Marmion to the rescue !'—Vain! Last of my race, on battle-plain That shout shall ne'er be heard again!- Tunstall lies dead upon the field; His life-blood stains the spotless shield: Let Stanley charge with spur of fire, Page, squire, or groom, one cup to bring O, woman! in our hours of ease, By the light quivering aspen made; 8 A ministering angel thou! Scarce were the piteous accents said, 9 10 To the nigh streamlet ran: Forgot were hatred, wrongs, and fears; She stoops her by the runnel's side, A Monk supporting Marmion's head; To shrive the dying, bless the dead.. Deep drank Lord Marmion of the wave, It may not be !-this dizzy trance- 11 The war, that for a space did fail, A light on Marmion's visage spread, "Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on!" 1 LESSON CXVIII. On Civility.-SULLIVAN. THE well-being of society would be greatly promoted, if the nature and use of this Christian virtue were more generally known. We take this to be, in personal intercourse, the observance of the command, Do to others as you would that others should do to you. The most rapid glance at any community, shows this: That some of its members are brought into contact in matters of business, necessarily; others meet, incidentally, who have no particular connexion; others meet for social purposes, in various forms; and that there 2 is a large proportion who know, of each other, very little beyond the fact, that they are of the same country; and perhaps, not even that. There must be a best rule of deportment for all these classes; and no one will deny, that if this rule were defined, and faithfully applied, there would be much more of every day comfort, and complacency in the world, than there is well known to be. If we rightly understand the meaning of civility, it is the manifestation of kind feelings, and of a desire to do all things which are to be done, under 3 the influence of such feelings, in a becoming and agreeable manner. If every person understood the true foundation of society, the common origin of all its members, their natural and necessary sympathies, their community of interests, their necessary action upon, and with each other, it might be supposed, that all who are reasona- * ble, would be civil. They would be so, because they would promote their own good, because they would be doing what it is proper to do, to promote the good of 4 others; and because they would know, that in so doing, they would conform to the design. of their creation. We do not include under the term civility, the great duties of justice, acts of munificence, important per-. sonal services. These arise out of some special relation, which an individual bears to one or more other individuals. It seems to be limited to the manner in which the common, or accidental intercourse of the members of society, in general, should be carried on. |