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minutest filaments of the heart. It is thus we obey the laws of society, because they are the laws of virtue. In their authority we see, not the array of force and terror, but the venerable image of our country's honor. Every good citizen makes that honor his own, and cherishes it, not only as precious, but as sacred. He is willing to risk life in its defence, and is conscious that he gains protection while he gives it. For what rights of a citizen will be deemed inviolable when a state renounces the principles that constitute their security? Or, if this life should not be invaded, what would its enjoyments be, in a country odious in the eyes of strangers and dishonored in his own? Could he look with affection and veneration to such a country as his parent? The sense of having one would die within him; he would blush for his patriotism, if he retained any, and justly, for it would be a vice. He would be a banished man in his native land.

THE FUTURE AGE OF LITERATURE.

H. BUSHNELL.

an age

I BELIEVE in a future age, yet to be revealed, which is to be distinguished from all others as the godlike age, not of universal education simply, or universal philanthropy, or external freedom, or political well-being, but a day of reciprocity and free intimacy between all souls and God. Learning and religion, the scholar and the Christian, will not be divided as they have been. The universities will be filled with a profound spirit of religion, and the bene orâsse will be a fountain of inspiration to all the investigations of study and the creations of genius. And it will be found that Christianity has, at last, developed a new literary era, the era of religious love.

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Hitherto, the love of passion has been the central fire of the world's literature. The dramas, epics, odes, novels, and even histories, have spoken to the world's heart chiefly through this passion, and through this have been able to get their answer. Hence there gathers round the lover a tragic interest, and we hang upon his destiny as if some natural charm or spell were in it. But this passion of love, which has hitherto been the staple of literature, is only a crude symbol in the life of nature, by which God designs to interpret, and also to foreshadow, the higher love of religion,

ful Dante, and is therefore to attend him afterwards in the spirit flight of song, and be his guide upward through the wards of Paradise to the shining mount of God. What, then, are we to think but that he will some time bring us up out of the literature of the lower love, into that of the higher; that as the age of passion yields, at last, to the age of reason, so the crude love of instinct shall give place to the pure intellectual love of God? And, then, around that nobler love, or out of it, shall arise a new body of literature, as much more gifted as the inspiration is purer and more intellectual. Beauty, truth and worship, song, science and duty, will all be unfolded together in the common love of God.

Society must, of course, receive beauty into its character and feeling, such as can be satisfied no longer with the old barbaric themes of war and passion. To be a scholar and not to be a Christian, to produce the fruits of genius without a Christian inspiration, will no longer be thought of; and religion, heretofore looked upon as a ghostly constraint upon life, it will now be acknowledged, is the only sufficient fertilizer of genius, as it is the only real emancipator of man.

THE AGE OF HUMANITY.

C. SUMNER.

THE grand fundamental law of humanity is the good of the whole human family, its happiness, its development, its progress. In this cause, knowledge, jurisprudence, art, philanthropy, all concur. They are the influences, more puissant than the sword, which shall lead mankind from the bondage of error into that service which is perfect freedom.

"Hæ tibi erunt artes, pacisque imponere morem.

Our departed brothers join in summoning you to this gladsome obedience. Their examples speak for them. Go forth into the many mansions of the house of life; scholars! store them with learning; jurists! build them with justice; artists! adorn them with beauty; philanthropists! let them resound with love. Be servants of truth and duty, each in his vocation. Be sincere, pure in heart, earnest, enthusiastic. A virtuous enthusiasm is always self-forgetful and noble. It is the only inspiration now vouchsafed to man. Blend humil

* Literally, "These shall be arts for you, and to impose the manner of peace."

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ity with learning. Ascend above the present in place and time. Regard fame only as the eternal shadow of excellence. Bend in adoration before the right. Cultivate alike the wisdom of experience and the wisdom of hope. Mindful of the future, do not neglect the past; awed by the majesty of antiquity, turn not with indifference from the future. True wisdom looks to the ages before us, as well as behind us. Like the Janus of the Capitol, one front thoughtfully regards the past, rich with experience, with memories, with the priceless traditions of truth and virtue; the other is earnestly directed to the all hail hereafter, richer still with its transcendent hopes and unfulfilled prophecies.

We stand on the threshold of a new age, which is preparing to recognize new influences. The ancient divinities of violence and wrong are retreating to their kindred darkness. The sun of our moral universe is entering a new ecliptic, no longer deformed by images of animal rage, but beaming with the mild radiance of those heavenly signs, Faith, Hope, and Charity. The age of chivalry has gone. An age of humanity has come. The horse, which gave the name to the first, now yields to man the foremost place. In serving him, in doing him good, in contributing to his welfare and elevation, there are fields of bloodless triumph, nobler far than any in which warriors ever conquered. Here are spaces of labor wide as the world, lofty as heaven. Let me say, then, in the benison which was bestowed upon the youthful knight, — Scholars! jurists! artists! philanthropists! heroes of a Christian age, companions of a celestial knighthood, "Go forth, be brave, loyal, and successful!"

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And may it be our office to-day to light a fresh beacon-fire on these venerable walls, sacred to truth, to Christ, and the church,* to truth immortal, to Christ the comforter, to the holy church universal. Let the flame spread from steeple to steeple, from hill to hill, from island to island, from continent to continent, till the long lineage of fires shall illumine all the nations of the earth, animating them to the holy contests of KNOWLEDGE, JUSTICE, BEAUTY, Love.

*The legend on the early seal of Harvard University was Veritas. The present legend is Christo et Ecclesiæ.

POETICAL

DECLAMATIONS AND RECITATIONS.

MY FATHER'S AT THE HELM.

ANONYMOUS.

THE curling waves, with awful roar,
A little bark assailed,
And pallid Fear's distracting power
O'er all on board prevailed,-

Save one, the captain's darling child,
Who steadfast viewed the storm;
And, cheerful, with composure smiled
At danger's threatening form.

"And sport'st thou thus," a seaman cried,
"While terrors overwhelm ?"-

"Why should I fear?" the boy replied;

'My father's at the helm !"

So when our worldly all is reft,

Our earthly helpers gone,

We still have one sure anchor left,
God helps, and he alone.

He to our prayers will lend his ear,
He give our pangs relief;

He turn to smiles each trembling tear,
To joy each torturing grief.

Then turn to him, mid sorrows wild,
When wants and woes o'erwhelm,
Remembering, like the fearless child,
Our Father's at the helm!

"PRESS ON."

P. BENJAMIN.

PRESS on! there's no such word as fail!
Press nobly on! the goal is near
Ascend the mountain! breast the rale!
Look upward, onward― never fear!
Why should'st thou faint? Heaven smiles above,
Though storm and vapor intervene;
That sun shines on, whose name is Love,
Serenely o'er life's shadowed scene.

Press on! surmount the rocky steeps,
Climb boldly o'er the torrent's arch;
He fails alone who feebly creeps ;

He wins, who dares the hero's march.
Be thou a hero! let thy might

Tramp on eternal snows its way,
And through the ebon walls of Night,
Hew down a passage unto day.
Press on! if Fortune play thee false,
To-day, to-morrow she 'll be true;
Whom now she sinks she now exalts,
Taking old gifts and granting new.
The wisdom of the present hour

Makes up for follies past and gone;
To weakness strength succeeds, and power
From frailty springs-press on! press on!
Therefore press on! and reach the goal,
And gain the prize, and wear the crown;
Faint not! for to the steadfast soul

Come wealth, and honor, and renown.
To thine own self be true, and keep
Thy mind from sloth, thy heart from soil;
Press on! and thou shalt surely reap
A heavenly harvest for thy toil!

THE YOUNG SOLDIER.

J. G. ADAMS.

A SOLDIER! a soldier!

I'm longing to be;
The name and the life

Of a soldier for me!