THE TRANSPLANTED FLOWER. BY REV. J. BANVARD, PASTOR OF HOWARD STREET CHURCH, BOSTON. [AN intelligent and amiable young lady, of fine talents, the object of a widowed father's strong attachment, and who had passed through deep afflictions, was married to a young gentleman and then moved to the West. She there died, leaving an infant, which, in a short time, followed her to the grave. These facts will explain the allusions in the following lines.] SAW a flower in beauteous bloom, Rude storms and tempests on it fell, It reared its lovely head on high. But soon, alas! a stranger came, And from the bush he tore the flower, Then on the leaves he wrote his name, Rejoicing in the blissful hour. I looked upon the stem he broke ;- The stranger loved this pretty flower, And bore it carefully away, And often in a dreary hour It served to drive his gloom away. When many months had rolled around, Its fragrant odors, pure and sweet, Again I looked,—that flower was gone! PRUDENCE. BY REV. DR. SHARP. BOSTON. HERE is great diversity in human character. Some persons yield themselves entirely to the influence of circumstances; others control and make circumstances subservient to their own purposes. Some receive almost all their impressions from without, and especially from the company with which they are surrounded. They are moved hither and thither by the most contrary external influences. Now they seem to be under the direction of the pious; and now again they are led away by the persuasions and example of the irreligious. They are amiable and obliging, but their very amiabi lity not being connected with firmness, exposes them to great inconsistencies of conduct. Others are strong from within. Their own reflections; their own intuitive sense of duty; their own calm and settled purposes become law to them, from which they are not to be moved by the shifting incidents which flit before them. When this firmness is associated with gentleness, and this inflexibility of principle is found in union with a disposition to please and to serve others, these are the elements of true excellence of character. The consequences of the imprudence and the prudence, growing out of these different habits, are such as might be expected. Imprudence is disastrous to peace of mind, to self-respect, to reputation, to worldly prospects, and to usefulness. Prudence attracts less attention and observation than imprudence; but it infuses "the soul's calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy," and it ultimately elevates the individual from obscurity to deserved respect. It secures for him the confidence and regard of the community in which he moves, and his "path is as the shining light that shineth more and more unto the perfect day." The imprudent are inconsiderate. They do not pause to think for themselves. They too readily believe the plausible representations of others; and if there be an enticement which promises gratification to their senses, they surrender their better judgment to the indulgence. Not so the prudent. "He looketh well to his goings." He ponders on the nature of his actions. He examines their connexions and consequences. He judges for himself. He looks at the results. He scans the future. In thought, he places himself where the streams of forbidden pleasure would convey him; and, shuddering and abashed at the prospect, he determines to resist temptation. It is important not to be mistaken on this subject. Prudence is not management—nor secret contrivance. It is not that non-committalism which leads persons of the most opposite opinions to suppose, that your views and theirs coincide. |