THE CHARACTER OF PAUL. BY J. T. HEADLEY. PAUL, in his natural character, before his conversion, resembled Bonaparte more than any other man; I mean both in his intellectual developement and energy of will. He had the same inflexibility of purpose, the same utter indifference to human suffering, when he had once determined on his course, the same tireless unconquerable resolution; the same fearlessness both of man's power and opinions, and that calm, self-reliance, and mysterious control over others. But the point of greatest resemblance is in the union of a strong, correct judgment, with rapidity of thought and sudden impulse. They thought quicker, yet better than other men. The power, too, which both possessed, was all practical power.There are many men of strong minds, whose force, nevertheless, wastes in reflection, or in theories for others to act upon. Thought may work out into language, but not into action. They will plan better than they can perform. But these men not only thought better, but they could work better than all other men. The same control and perfect subjection of his emotions, even terror itself, to the mandates of his will, are exhibited in his conduct when smitten to the earth, and blinded by the light and voice from heaven. John, when arrested by the same voice on the isle of Patmos, fell on his face as a dead man, and dared not stir or speak till encouraged by the language, "Fear not." But Paul (or Saul,) though a persecutor, and violent man, showed no symptoms of alarm or terror.The voice, the blow, the light, the glory, and the darkness that followed, were sufficient to upset the strongest mind; but he, master of himself and his emotions, instead of giving way to exclamations of terror, simply said: "Lord, what wilt thou have me do?" With his reason and judgement as steady and strong as ever, he knew at once that something was wanted of him, and ever ready to act, he asked what it was. From this time on, his track can be distinguished by the commotions about it, and the light above it. Straight back to Jerusalem, from whence he had so recently come with letters to legalize his persecutions, he went to cast his lot in with those he had followed with violence and slaughter. His strong heart never beat one quicker pulsation through fear, when the lofty turrets of the proud city flashed on his vision. Neither did he steal away to the dark alleys and streets, where the disciples were concealed, and tell them secretly his faith in the Son of God. He strode into the synagogues, and before the astonished priests preached Christ and Him crucified. He'thandered at the door of the Sanhedrim itself, and shaking Jerusalem like an earthquake, awoke a tempest of rage and fury on himself. With assassins dogging his footsteps, he at length left the city. But, instead of going to places where he was unknown, and where his feelings would be less tried, he started for his native city, his father's house, the home of his boyhood, for his kindred and friends. To entreaties tears, scorn, and violence, he was alike impervious. To Antioch and Cyprus, along the coast of Syria and Rome, over the known world he went like a blazing comet, waking up the nations of the earth. From the top of Mars' Hill, with the gorgeous city at his feet, and Acropolis and Parthenon behind him; on the deck of his shattered vessel in the intervals of the crash of billows, in the gloomy walls of a prison, on the borders of the eternal kingdom, he speaks in the same calm and determined tone. Deterred by no danger, awed by no presence, and shrinking from no responsibility, he moves before us like some grand embodiment of power. The nations heave around him, and kings turn pale in his presence. Bands of conspirators swear neither to eat or drink until they have slain him; rulers and priests combined against him; yet, over the din of the conflict and storm of violence, his voice of eloquence rises clear and distinct as a trum pet call, as he still preached Christ and Him crucified. The whip is laid on his back till the blood starts with every blow, and then his mangled body is thrown into a dungeon; but at midnight you hear that same calm voice which has shaken the world, poured forth in a hymn of praise to God, and lo! an earthquake rocks the prison to its foundations; the manacles fall from the hands of • the captives, the bolts withdraw of them. selves, and the massive doors swing back on their hinges. For the Miscellany. MENTAL IMPROVEMENT. BY T. W. LAMPHIERD, A. M. MENTAL Improvement may be defined, the storing the mind with principles and facts relating to every subject of human know!edge, and the improving and disciplining of all our intellectual faculties so as to render that knowledge most serviceable to ourselves and others. That the present state of society renders the acquisition of these principles and facts a duty incumbent upon us, will appear evident from oue consideration, viz: The progress of society daily brings to light hitherto undiscovered principles, and One cannot point to a single spot in his career, where he faltered for a moment, or gave way to discouragement or fear. Thro' all his perilous life, he exhibited the same intrepidity of character and lofty spirit.-reveals new facts which have an important With his eyes fixed on regions beyond the ken of ordinary mortals, and kindling on glories it was not permitted him to reveal, he pressed forward to an incorruptible crown a fadeless kingdom. And then his death,gress of society. how indescribably sublime! Napoleon, dying in the midst of the midnight storm, with the last words that fell from his lips a battle cry, and his passing spirit watching, in his delirium, the torn heads of his mighty columns, as they disap-I peared in the smoke of the conflict, is a sight that awes and startles us. But behold Paul, also a war-worn veteran, battered with many a scar, though in a spiritual warfare, looking back not with alarm, but transport; gazing not on the earth, but heaven. Hear his calm, serene voice ringing over the bearing upon the happiness of man, in all his varied circumstances and multiplied relations. These discoveries and their application to human wants constitute the pro 1. Every man is bound to exert his whole influence in favor of truth and virtue. He who refuses to avail himself of all the means which are placed within his reach, by which he may increase his influence, is wanting in the discharge of his duty to man and God. would not be understood to convey the idea, that all may arrive at the same eminence, or exert the same amount of influence, even though they may devote the same amount of time to mental improvement.the account of natural talent of which there Something must doubtless be imputed to is a great diversity. We behold this diversistorms & commotions of life:"I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my depar-however who are placed under the most faty in men of every age and nation. Some ture is at hand. I have fought a good fight, vorable circumstances for mental improvment I have finished my course, there is laid uprise not to an eminence half so high as that up for me a crown of righteousness." No shouts of foemen, nor smoke or carnage to which others rise who are placed under battle surrounded his spirit stuggling to be unfavorable circumstances. The self-taught free; but troops of shining angels, the smile man, who struggles with poverty, and the of an envious world, often surpasses, in of God, and the songs of the redeemer— these guarded him and welcomed him home. who has been favored with all the advanbranch of literature and science, him -Selected. tages of the best-endowed and best-regulated university. The difference in intellect of envy Be careful in your promises and just in which we witness among men may not, performance of them. therefore, be owing so much to diversity of Vol. 7, No. 5-14. natural talent, as to the degree to which ideas they may do us more harm than good. that talent has been cultivated. Hence it is proper to remark, that the facilities for mental improvement with which men are favored are very dissimilar. One has wealth and health, another poverty and sickness. Even in the State of Michigan a highly favored portion of the earth, some degree of wealth is necessary to obtain instruction in the higher departments of knowledge, so that the children of the rich possess many advantages over those of the poor. On examina tion, I am inclined to believe there is a greater difference in the facilities for improvement with which men are favored, than in the natural talent with which they are endowed. And as God in his wisdom has suffered these differences to exist, so will he wisely adjust our separate accounts, and reward and punish every man according to his works. 2. Patient thought, causes the chief difference between man and man considered as an intellectual being. Without it none can hope to arrive at greatness; with it none need fear being dwarfs in literature and science. It will readily be admitted, that we must exercise patient thought, if we would treat on any subject so as to interest and profit men; we must revolve it in our minds again and again, till we are satisfied that it cannot appear to us in any new light, and that we are fully prepared to defend every position which we have assumed. True, we may read various authors, and then use their ideas, but in this case there would be ne originality and by consequence, no credit, except for patient research. We should not undervalue nor overvalue reading. All historical works, and all elementary works, numerous as they are, should be studied as text-books. We expect to derive our knowledge of principles from elementary books, and the knowledge which these contain must be regarded as common property Thus, commentaries are valuable when we resort to them as sources of historical and critical knowledge; but if we use them as common place books from which to obtain There are many other works that must be studied for the sake of the information which they contain; and some of them should be used as a sort of capital on which to commence thinking, as a merchant hires a thousand dollars on which to commence business, and then depends upon his own resources. Patient thought is entirely opposed to that method of reading which is practised by many individuals, viz: reading without reflection, without questioning the truth of the author's sentiments, ascertaining the correctness of his positions, or examining the soundness of his principles, but indiscriminately approving the whole. The neglect of patient thought is the which prevails at the present day. Many ingreat cause of that superficial knowledge dividuals seem to think that they can very easily ascend the steeps of science, by the aid of a few books and popular lecturesThey may amuse themselves with these pleasing dreams, but they must at last wake up the sober reality of labor-constant persevering labor, if they would ensure success. Patient thought is indispensible to mental improvement. 3. The power of gencralization is necessary, by this I mean, the applying of one general law to all the subjects which it embraces; as the applying of the morality of the gospel to all the minutiae of public, social, domestic and private life. Without further remarks, the reader will see the importance which must be attached to this, and its intimate connection with the duties of teachers. 4. Knowledge and power of language, is indispensible. Men may differ as it regards the faculty of acquiring and using language, but all can improve, and all should endeavor to use that language which will best convey their exact meaning. I do not say that every individual ought to be able to apply to every sentence, at a moment's notice the rules of grammar and rhetoric, but he should, if possible acquaint himself with the principles on which these sciences are founded, and form his taste in accordance with them that he may avoid errors, and write and speak | with propriety. Many have noticed the effect which beautiful language and fine figures have produced upon the public mind, men have been delighted and charmed and have almost loved the writer or speaker for the enjoyment he has afforded them. The community expect either beauty and elegance, or force and sublimity in all the productions of professional men, and they will not rest satisfied with anything short of this. They require of every individual who desires to influence them, whatever may be his station in life, the same character in kind, which they require of public men. The degree in which he must possess it they willingly graduate by the facilities for improvement which he has enjoyed. The rising generation are coming upon the theatre of action to carry these requisitions still further, and shall we not prepare ourselves to guide them in the paths of truth and virtue, so that when we in our turn retire behind the scenes, the ed splendid natural talents, and to many God humble but confident expectation that he ROSE, October 8th, 1852. AUTUMN. Look upon the hills. Autumn and her sprites are busy there; wherever their dancing touched the sward, lo! it is trans-figured, and a thousand nestling beauties sleep in the little hollows they have made gaze upward to the skies; has summer gone there? They are as darkly, as richly blue, in her softer reign. The little runnels babble to the meadows, answer back again, and tell how strange a desolation cometh in the train of Autumn, and how, if they were little brooklets, they would find some dark, warm caverns, out of the reach of grasping winter.-But the brooklets, like children, heed not the words of experience, and babble on contented because just now, they are warm, and the sun glitters in their very depths. Behold again, Autumn wraps her mantle of scarlet about her form and bows her head in sorrow. Just beyond the enclosure I see her, shadowy, yet bright moving like a spirit, while the fading verdure scarcely feels the pressure of her soft tread. And Autumn is among the tombs-among the green mounds and white monuments. Many a babe that one year ago held forth its tiny hands to greet her lies there sleeping. Many a young bride who waited for her to bless her bridal, twelve months ago, is grate-folded in the cerements of the grave. He swung his scythe, and carolled a song to her honor, when last she was there, he of the manly form the powerful aim, the noble brow, the merry eye of blue, has finished his course in his bright time, and his head is pillowed on a lowly bed. Autumn misses the venerable and the aged; she pauses by the tall shafts that mark the repose of the fallen great; she kneels by the simple headstone of the village clergyman, and her fiogers play with the shaded chaplet that adorns a father's grave. SWEET Autumn, bright beautiful Autumn is here. Behold her hand-writing on the leaves; it is traced with a pen dipped in the hues of the rainbow. Here how gently she sings the requiem of the flowers, poor tender things, that are perishing because summer is sleeping, and needs them no longer to make garlands for her sunny-brow. Yes, Autumn, we have lost our beloved since last the fair heavens crimsoned at thy wooing. Shake from the golden tresses the pearls that summer rains have fashioned there: they cannot repay us for the long abscence of that darling babe, the death silence of that cherished father. Give of thy |