Pittston Gazette and Susquehanna Anthracite Journal

              rf PITTSTON dflfe GAZETTE, AND SUSQUEHANNA ANTHRACITE JOURNAL. a BJtekhj Jleutsjjnptr—C JDeontrb lo Mms. litcrnfnrt, t(rf Jttanutilt, Slitting, Sltrlitmttnl, tini) Sgrintlurnl 3ntr»sts nf tlit Cauntrtj, Sustmrtran, Jtimunitnt, fct. )--Ctttn follor® |*tr Slnmttn r VOLUME 3.--NUMBER XG. PITTSTON, PA., FRIDAY, APRIL 22, 1853. WHOLE NUMBER 140- ive abhorrence from everything low, vulgar and obscene, however wel) circumstanced, as to time anJ filace, to screen it from merited reprobation.— That tenderness and flexibillfy of feeling which enables one to enter readily into all the varieties and depths of feeling in other hearts ; to sympathise w ith all forms and degrees of grief, and sorrow, nnd pain-—of pleasure* and joy, and delight"; that will mingle his emotions with those of others, and prompt him to '"rejoice with those that rejoice, and weep with those that weep." In a word, we owe to ourselves the posses* sion of all the principles, and ornaments, and charms, and pleasures of the gtnlleman. A sincerity which spurns flattery, and abhors deceit ) a simplicity which scorns vanity and affectation ; a meekness and reserve which shriek from obtrusive arrogance and haughtiness ; a high sense of honor and integrity which disdains in. triguc and meanness ; earnest and lively; but chaste and pure emotions j a sweetness and amiability of spirit ; a generous, benevolent temper, which leave no room for swelling egotism and narrowing selfishness ; a purity of motive nnd intention which elevate one entirely above all just jealousies and suspicions; a profonnd regard for the rights and interests of others, which grants their free toleration nnd ex ercise j a sound common sense, which in; stine'.ively discerns the restraints and proprieties which times, circumstances occasions, characters and places impose, and readilv adapts itself to them. These form llie gentleman, and constitute that ornament and grace of character, that ease and polish of manner, which, in the language of the poet, THE PITTSTON GAZETTE, reason, can never be too highly prized, nor too earnestly extolled. And the more exalted the views We entertain of human nature, the higher We (jriee its (acuities, susceptibilities and powers, and the glor. ious destiny which awaits itj the more shall we abhor sin which perverts nnd corrupts it. Audit is only when our views of ourselves are unworthy, low and grovtilling, that we can consent to yield to its cruel vassalage. We should never forget that we are human beings, and that it is a point of it)finite moment to us, that we form exalted views of that nature which God has given us to improve. It involves the very elements of our future character, and the means of success in our exertions after that growth and distinction which are within our rcach. For it -can hardly be expccted that others wilt place an estimate upon us, above that we place upon ourselves. Indeed, the estimate we place upon ourselves, will be found to constitute the standard, by which men in general graduate their views of us. Hence, it is a proverbial remark, and as true as it is common, " that he who esteems himself will be esteemed by others." And, it is certain, that we can never rise nbove the aim we fix for ourselves. But il our self estimation is low and groveling, it will give a proportionate depression to our aims, and at the same lime, it will degrade our principles, lower our ambition, cool the ardors of our zeal, palsy our enter, prise, and inluse languor and feebleness into our exertions. For iie who puts a low estimate upon his sucCeptibilitios and powers, Jet Is little, insignificant, mean, and degrades himself in his own views to a level with the bruie creation, enn hardly be cxpected lo exert himself to rise above his chosen equals. Ho will remain in the degradation he has appointed himself, ihe dupe of his own deceptions, the miserable victim of tyrannizing passion. Me will be little, insignificant, mean. While he whose views of himself are high and ex olted, will have a proportionate elevation given to his aims. They will fire him with a laudable ambition, inspiie liitn with a quenchless zeal, arouse the spirit of enterprise, cive firmness and strength to his resolutions, steadiness and energy to his effort*,—the sure precursors of success.— Hut dives; one ol n feeling of imbecility, nn impression of incompetence, io accomplish a given object, nnd you have done mueh, 1 had almost said all, to enlist him in its pursuit. I run is the next step to i will; and a resolute—I will, is usually the end achieved. talitjr clothe the human mind ! Compared with its worth, all earthly treasures and honors dwindle into utter insignificance and unmeaning pageants. But if your vision fails to mount those loflv steeps ; if it cannot bear tho effulgence of that light which the tiible and immortality shed upon it, then tuin your gaze to the milder constellations which gem earth's vault of mind, and in their soflel- radiance, form your estimate of your self. Look at that little Acorn, what does it contaia 1 The stately oak.that lifts its towering brow among the clouds, spreads its branches to the breere, invites the tempest's shafts, rustles his locks in the fierce encounter, and then proudly stands, as though exulting in the pride of victory.— Go with me to the marble quarry ; gasie upon its unsightly wildness, mark the rude confusion with which its stones lie piled upon each other, see their huge rough sides, their tigly uncouth features, thpir dull tiupleasing shades and expressions.— Is here a sight to entertain, to captivate and charm ? Turn now, and look upon that proud monument of the sculptor's skill and genius, the almost thinking, breathing, living image of its original, the stalely statue. This was its bed. By na lures own hand it was shaped, and fashioned, and polished here. The sculptor's plain and chisel have but found it out, and removed tho investments whicji concealed it in the mass. Attend me to Hie painter's shop, observe that solution of points in the vessel by his side. Does it arouse admirfltioh, plehsfc the taste, delight the fancy ? Elevate your vision, mark that picture on the canvass. How it blushes with life, and smiles in beduty. It is the 'familiar countenance of an admired acquaintance ; the smile of a loved friend. But every feature, every sliaje, was in the painter's cup. His brush has but transleired tliC m there, Accompany me now through ihr circles of young men. Whose eves, spark ling with the tires of life and vi-jor, beam out from beneath that nrcliing brow of in. teilect, gracefully .-haded with the verdant locks of youthful beauty ! A Plato's, u Newton's, n Locke's, a Howard's, a Wesley's, a Washington's, and perhaps, an Alexander's, a Ceasar'B, a Bonaparte's ; Heaven save us from their scourge!— Tnough that same Being, whocauscs "one star to differ from another star in glory," has doubtless observed his own favorite rule of variety ?n dispensing the gifts ol mind, so that one it by nature stronger and capable of a higher dininction an ft* a richer polish than another, yet, in every common mind, He has deposited every element of greatness, every faculty of power, every principle of distinction and renown, nnd every germ of lofty character, exhiblied by the proudest specimens of humaii genius, the fairest ornaments of human nature, and the brightest luminaries in the heavens of intellect and mind. They are all deposited in you. That very mind which has originated science, invented arts, tinned tht ferocity of savage beasts, bound the chained the lightning, surveyed and measured distant worlds, resides within you ; that very mind which has mounted the loftiest heights of fame, served Ood in humble love, arose to heaven and bathed itself in the light of its glory, is yours. And is it not due to yourselves to know it ? And knowing it, can you fail to place a high estimate upon it ? Let then, a high and impressive sense of the worth and importance of your nature be fixed and steadily cherishcd in your heart. It is your solemn duty urged bv a myriad voices upon your observance.— And tho importance of it can never bo fully appreciated, till you shall have ascended the subliinest heights of mind, basked in the brightest glories of thought, and felt and exhausted the profoundest dep lis of spirited bless. It is the sure precursor of success, the day dawn of renown, the sole star to tho brightest honors of human character. For he who feels noble, is superior ,to meanness. He is noble. He who prizes himself as a rational, intelligent, and immortal being, can never be fettered in the chains of mere instinct, nor diagged at the car of ferocious passsion. He who-knows himself to be god-like, will be like God, ture development Of man's nature arises fronvthe equal cultivation and proportionate improvement of each separate faculty. He therefore, who should devote special attention to one part of his nature to the neglect of another part, would display a folly but faintly adumbrated in the man, who, to increase the strength of his Chain, should improve a certain number of links, and utterly neglect the rest. We shall not at. tempt an enumeration of all the facilities 6f our nature, and the ties of conncctiofi by which they are united, and the reciprocal influence they exert upon each other, and the manner in which the undue cxercise or dormancy of one operates to retard the growth and impair the healthfulness and vigor of the rest. Our remarks must be of a general character, and illustrated with but few individual specifications. blase, the sure precursor of the thunder and the storm. His cultivation has but opened the crater of his wickedness and depravity widef, that it may send out a deadlier and broader stream from the hea. ving volcano within him. Much he has learned, and much ha has communicated ; but the name of justice he never learned, virtue, innocence* fidelity, ate to him words without an idea. A blessing he neret gave nor understood its nature. . He is a Herod* a Nero, a Fiend. He seats himself to write. A volume is oomposed. It passes forth into society under the sanction of his great name and distinguished abilities.— His intellectual fame demands for it attention and respect. It is read. Is it on science 1 What research, what accuracy and truth appear upon its pages. On History 1 How admirable his plan—how well the thread of his narrative is sustainedhow faithfully, and truthfully every event is delineated—what an appefernnce of disinterestedness and impartiality—how sweet and flowing, nnd beautiful the style. Is it on morals and religion? Mark the darkness of his mind, the crudeness of his sentiments—th6 falsity of his doctrine— the sophistry of his argument,'—the frequent sallies of ribaldrous wit—the reiter. ated burets ot bitter, biting, angry sarcasm and irony—and the rotten shafts of ridicule, which he hurls against the gravest arguments that oppose his favorite dogmas. He is a Vulney; a Voltaire, a Gibbon, a Hume, a Tom I'nVne, he is unable to distinguish it from falsehood ; ai admirer of virtue, he frequently mistakes it for v?£e. Hi» seal is fanaticism, his piety enthusiasm. With him, science is often infidelity ; learning is pride and egotism ; and good breeding, vanity and affectation. His feelings are always his guide, and measure his obligation and determine hto datjr. to whatever they may incline him, lie unhesitatingly ! yields himself. His conscience, it is true, is sehsitive and tender, but it takes no cog. nizance of anything but motives and design* ; with laws, principles and cor.se. qfientes, he fiAa no concern. Destitute of ability uD try spi rits', a Ad see whether (bey are from Qod, he imagines every emotion upon subjects of a religious character en emanation from Heaven, and sincerity in a teacher, proof of his inspiration. Hence, if his own feeling* are aroused and animated, he is sure hei.VDas the spirit's witness to the doctrine ; and if the speaker weeps, it is blasphemy to doubt. Hence, he is the dupe of every imposture which puts ort a sanctimonious air,- and clothes itself in the garb of religion. Believing Without ex. amination, he readily subscribes to every novel creed, and yields a hearfy support to every new measure, To him everything marvellous is the voice of prophecy ; every phenomenon, the C8tiSe of which he does not readily discern, a miracle. In him, every dream is a spiritual vision ; every shadow, especially if seenTtby rtioolilight, a ghost ! and every sudden sound a Spirit-voico. Possessed of uo settled views or principles, lie shifts with every wintf, and floats in every breeze. Convince him that your end is good, and he will never inquire iftto the means of effecting it. Ilencr, whatever stands in the way of rta achievement, mOst be sacrificed and demolished. He is now seen astride this hobby, now furiously galloping Gpon that, till he is jostlfd to tfse dust, literally wearied out in eager pursuit of airy phatitoms. It cannot be said, "he never had a_ dozen thoughts in ill his life,' for he has had man • ; but they werow lise dust in the air, tl.o more he had, the darker his mind. Such is the man of moral cultivation"and intellectuul neglect ; a clamorous enthusiast, a noisy fanatic, a phiahlc Victim of superstition. tie has a man's heart, but an infant's head ; mtKih heat, but no light ; all thunder and no lightning a windy cloud without rain. iND Sufqueliium Anthracitc Journal PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY G. M. RICHART 8 II. S. PHILLIPS QJH*$ Wist sid* of Main Mtrset. second ttory of ths "Long fioro" of Wisntr 4r Hood. Tilt uCJa*ettc Jc JomxAL" is published every Friday, it Twu Doi.lari per annum. Two Dollar* und Fifty 0«nt» will lie charged if not paid Willi in tho your. ■ * paper will be discontinued until nil arrearages ore paid. Avv kktisbm k.its art) inscrtod conspicuous!} at Qnk 1)oi.» lir per square of fourteen linen for tliree Insertion*; •ndTvvieNTT-rivic C'bnts additional Cur every subsequent lawrtion. A liberal deduction to those who advertise for tlx months or tho whole y6nr. Job Work.—We have connected with our establishment a well selected assortment of Job Tvfi, which will enn bla us to execute, in the neatest style, every variety of pjlnting.  INTERESTING LECTURE. We have said that man's nature is complex. He is not like an angel, pure intellect and emotion ; nor like a brute mere instinct and passion. LIo occupies a point midway between them, combining the low. est attributes of the one, w ith the most exalted honors of the other. He is an intel loctual, a moral, o social, and a physical being. To each of these departments of his nature he owes a special obligation, and to them all as united. Self Obligation, or lite Duly which Voting Mf» Owe lo Themselves.—An Address delivered before the Pillslon Lyceum, on the evening of February 25th, by the lie v. C. H. Harvey, of Kingston, Pa., and published by the request of the members of that Association. Ladies ami Gestlemem :—The subjcct 1 have selected for your intellectual en tortainment this evening is, that of self rbligaiion, or the duty w hich young men owe to themselves. 1 have made choice of this theme not so much with a view to i(s novelty as its importance. For though one of the first and «iost imperative duties i w hich rest upon man, involving, as it does, his success and happiness, and laying, il promptly discharged, the foundation for the itcccpublc performapce oI every othor du ♦y. St.lt obligation, is nevertheless too often overlooked and disregarded, we hear much of the obligations men are under to God, to their families aud associates, to their country and the race, but little of j those they owe to themselves, we think \ much and often become deeply impressed j with a view of the former, but aro apt to j inquire and care but little' for the latter, j As an iuteilccttial being, be owes it to himself to develop and stregthen his pow. ers of thought and reason, and the attainment of that discipline which regular and vigorous exercise only can impart; a strength and discipline w hich w ill render them fully adequate to a discriminating survey of all the fnotjj and a rendy solution of all the problems, which came within :he province of his mind lo investigate and explore. And also the Requisition of that various knowledge which is placed within his reach, the posvessiorf of which is requisite aliku to fit him lor the duties of lite, and the enjoyment of those refined and exalicd pleasures, known only to a well ftorcd and richlv garnished^ind.— The intellect is the god-like in mnn ; and it CrtfUiot be loo deeply impressed upon every mind, specially the mind of youth, who, too generully experience and often indulge a strong and dangerously dispro. portionale predominance of pession and feeling, that it is the leading and noblest part of his nature, and should receive therefore all that attention to which its superior rnnk entitles il. Whatever of nobleness may be supposed to reside iri the nffcotious, I hi: p8ssioM, and in th« social instincts of man, they must, like angels before ihe the throne, cast their crowns at the feet, and bow in adoration at the shrine of intellect und reason. They are in themselves behind impulses, arid require the guiding light and controlling hand of a cultivated and well informed judgment. Ii has often excited no little surprise, lint men of such exalted minds, who have hone with no clear a lustre in the literary ;alaxy $ acquired stores of learning which tothlng short of the severest and fnoSt promoted study could secure, and whose rep. nation for logical depth and accuracy in ivery oilier department of investigation, ms placed them fur above all imputations D1 intellectual weakness, should nevertheess bo capable of committing such palpate errors in theorizing upon morals and •eligion.foim theories in opposition to all evdence and all laws of proof, and not evefi n harmony with themselves. That they ihould so far become the dupes of decep. ion as. to substitute sophistry for logic, ;onjecture for proof, and wit and irony for trgnment. And the consideration of the inic'llectuul strength and literary reputaion ol some, who have ranked among the icads or disciples of the different schools if infidelity, Ims staggered not a few minds, especially of ambitious and rather imaginative young men, who delight to reif el nmid the fairy creations and vaporous deolities of an exuberant imagination, by genius, in the truthfulness and nspi'ration of Christianity, I should not tllude to this at all, as it is wholly foreign o my desian to attack or defend any class jf theoretic doglnns—but for the easy solution of the problem furnished us in the [joint of character now under consideration, lie cultivation of the head, and the neglect jf the heart. For the mere cultivation of ihe moral faculties fosters a spirit of disinterestedness in moral subjects. Hence such men give tho subject of morals and religion but a slight investigation, and therefore remain to a considerable extent ignorant of their character and the strength if their claims to credence. It also engenders a Spirit of dislike lo them, in so far as they conflict with their practice and condemn it. And as it generally seems to such minds a mark of weakness to be des litute of established opinions upon all great and general questions, they therefore forfti one ; but they do it hastily ond in ihe dark, influenced in no small degree by their prejudices of feeliftff. And it is no great marvel that they should be misty and absurd. The problem, so mysterious to some, is solved by the very laws of our own mental Constitution. A nd while a knowledge of these laws removes the objections against morals in general; and those of Chrislianrtv in particular, suppo sod to arise from the literary character of some of its opponents,- it 4'lso explodes ihfrt specious aigumcnt so often urged in its favor, I mean the illustrious names i; lias arrayed under its banner. Though this argument may be wielded with success against the speoious objection ,above exploded, according to the well known muftim, "fright your foes with their own weapons, if you would confound while i ou conquer them," or, as it is more forcibly expressed by Solomon, "answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his own eves j" yet it should never be made the ground of belief in Christianity or any other doctrine. Indeed, Christianity-forbids in the strongest terms any confidence in iis verity upon such grounds, and thunders its heaviest anathemas against the man who trusts in man, or fyakes flesh his arm. It addresses itself to the understanding ol every mind, as level to the capacity of the humblest enquirer who honestly seeks to understand itj and presents its own test, the strongest and most con»iuciug possible,—that of experience. •'Are mote beautiful than beauty itself." These are the social viiiues. " Which far ouUhinc the tliamnod's brightest bo tun, More beauteous than tile ruby seem.' And their value and importance can never be fully estimated ; for as Madame Celnart justly remarks—"It is to propriety, its justice and uitractions, that we owe nil the charms, and 1 might almost say, the being able lo live in society." It has been often and truly said i " that man is the maker of his own fate." It is true, circumstances may impart their influence to mould his charncler and shape his destiny—for man's ultimate destiny must be as his character—but they can- do nothing more. It rests w ith man to itnprove them, and prolit by their influence, or to resist them and deny himself the advantages they tender him. Af physical beings wo owe to ourselves a sufficient acquaintance with the laws of our physical constitution, to enable us to bestow all that care and attention upon it Which are essential to preserve it in a stale of health, fullness and vigor. The body claims attention as the habitation of the mjnfl, which must suffer ilN full proportion of ihe penalty of physical indiscretion.— Can a family be safe and comfortable in an open, dilapidated, leaky mansion ? Can tho house be unrooted, and moved front its foundations, end shattered, and rent, without disturbyitr the quiet and repose of its inmaieR ? No more can man rack BmJ rend his physical constitution, and liabitu. ally trample on the laws of life and health, without disturbing the tranquility of the mind, and weakening the intellect. No description is necesrary of llic man whose sole object has been the development and gratification of his social propensities, for everyone knows him tobetlip libertine, the rake. ' Ilia lips may be full of sweetness and flattery, but (he poison of asps is under his tongue. His hands are Esau's, but his Voice Jacob's. All obligations spring (rom relation*, and \ are measured in their extent arid iinpor- i tanca by litem, and presuppose thfc pusses- ■ tiion of powers fully adequate in tncet '.hem. 1 Ttiese powers constitute our Nature. And it is the changcableness of our powers, j which renders our nature changeable. As ! they expand and enlarge, our nature is do- ! vcloped; and as they are refined and per- i it-cU-d, it ispolibhed and beautified. Their direction and/sultivation are placed under ctir own control, we may not, wo cannot destroy them ; whilo we can, and ought to improve them. And as wo fashion our own character, so arc wcthe tnakersof our own destiny. It is this fact, which commends to our serious consideration the sub. jpet now in hand—Self-Obligation—for if this is overlooked and disregarded, all other responsibilities must remain, either entirely unaccomplished, or be very defectively discharged, inasmuch as they all take their rise from our powers, and aro consequent in their fulfilment upon the accomplishment of this. And however important and imperative they may be, however interesting and useful their contemplation and study, this is far more so, by renson of the relation ot priority which it sustains to them. Accompany me wwi your atlen. tion then, while 1 sketch some of the obligations which men, particularly young men owo to themselves. 1 specify young men particularly, because youth is the plastic period of life, the spring season of our existence, during which the germ of our future character is developed, our habits formed, and our destiny to inconsiderable extent determined. Hence, if they aro inattentive to this branch of investigation, and waste their vernal bloom iu indifference to themselves, their prospects arc anything -but flaitering. The obligations which we owe to ourselves, are various. The first upon the list, which seems deserving our attention is, the duly of forming a just estimate of the tcorlh and dignity of our nature, a lofty conception, and it high esteem of the powers and faculties, our Creator has bestowed \rpon us.— 1 am not unapprised of tha low esteem in which some men hold human nature, and of the extravagant disrelish with which they read, or listen to any enconimns upon it; and the zeal and industry with which they clamorously denounce it as insignificant, despicable, mean. Nor of] the apparent justness of the ground on which this opinion is based. For »her. tve view human nature in ono of its aspects,—its depravilv and sinfulness,—it exhibits anything but value and loveliness. It is r.ot for this we should esteem it, bul for the noble powers and exalted destiny, the Creator has impressed upon it. These, lose none of their intrinsic value and importance by contact with sin. Gold is tho same in essence and intrinsic worth, whe- I ther mixed with foreign alloy, or shininc and pure from the mint. Light is the same subtle clement and of equal value, whether brilliantly streaming from the sun, or mixing with clouds and mists. Neither does the soul of man lose any of its intrinsic worth, because overlaid and pol. luted with sin. The essential properties of mind are important beyond human computation in themselves, whether cased ! in flesh, writhing in dispair, or glowing with the bliss of a seraph. Depravity and sin are always execrable, and can never be held in too strong contempt and loathing ; but mind, and thought, intellect and It is not, however, an estimation bated upon u false and enotistic view of ourselves, a fancied, fictitious superiority over others, lor which I contend. It is an estimate equally removed from that arrogance and haughtiness, that wind and puff of self-conceit, w hicli fills one w ith a supercilious regard for a dignily and distinction which exist only in his inflated imagination, and renders him a laughing slock, an object of scorn and contempt among ihe wise and discerning, on the one hand ; and, from that degrading sense of mean- Nor of the man, if man he may be callcd—who never looked upon the inside of a book, nor knew the ffoport of lectureroom. Who never thought ho had a soul superior to his dog, and cares for nothing but to cat apd drink and get money. "Who niver had ti dozen thoughts, In all his life, and never changed theii; coun t Hut told them o'er, each in it* uccustumed place, From morn till night, from vouth till ho/wy age. Little a!Dove the ox which crazed the fiela His reason rose ; so weak his memory, The name his mother called him by he scarce Remembered ; and his judgment so, untaught, ' That what at evening played along'th6 swamp', Fantastic, clad in robes of fiery hue, He thought the Devil in disguise and Red With quivering heart and winged footsteps home. The word phiI6«b)Dliy he never heart)/ Or science ; never heard of liberty, As a moral being, mini owes to himself a duo cultivation and right direction of all liis moral faculties. Wo expect too much from the development and cultivation of intellect and rcuson, and the acquisition of knowledge, however excellent and various, ii we suppose that these Can eilher exalt man to the height of perfection, or y it Id him that bliss for which he sighs. His moral instincts are too strong a power to remain perpetually Suppressed. As soon might you chain the untamed tiger, as assuage the grief of the plaintive war. bUr, pent up in tho cruel cage away from its loved mate, as to still the voice of conscience, or hush to repose the living instincts of the soul. They piust, they will be aciive. And if tliay are allowed to travel in the road which nature has cast un for them, and exeicise themselves freely upon their appropriate objects, their activity will be as a lile-tide, and their voices sweet as the minstrelsy ot heaven to the soul. A peace and inward tranquility passing all understanding shall reign within it. But if neglected, aud denied the instruction which strengthens, and the exercise which expands and perfects them, and a union with those objects which will content and tranquilize (hem, they will be as a ravenous tiger within his bosom, rending and devouring it : or, like a tempest on the sea, hurling its waters with maddened tumuli; or, like a whirlpool in the deep, in which the best rigged and most richly freighted intellect will be engulfed and destroyed. The cultivation of a quick and lively sense of right and wrong ; an ub. horreuce of crime ; a loathing of vice ; an ardent love of virtue and truth ; and a determined adherence to conscience, are not only next to the smile of heaven in the tranquility and bliss they impart, but the finishing polish of the humau character. In attending to the several departments of our nature which have now engaged our attention, we may perhaps be considerrd as imitating the architect in planning and shaping the different parts of the edifice he intends lo rear, making each an object of (special attention till it is prepared to enter its place in the grand structure.— Viewed in their separation, they fnay Seem to possess Lut little and irhportance. And should lie stop hefe, and pay no regard to their connection and uhion in the edifice, but leave them isolated ami scattered, ail his labor would bo lost. lie would bo like the " foolish man who commenced to build, but was not able to finish." It is the connection and union of its several parts, which gives the edifice its fair proportions and symmetrical beauty, its splendor and magnificent grandeur. In like manner, it is not by cultivating and developing one part of our nature to the neglect of another part which forms that character we are bound to rear. This can be accomplished only by attending to them all as united together and shedding over each other a mutual and reciprocal influence. Of the justness of these sentiments We shall be fully convinced, if we surVey for a little time the different phases of liumnn character, as exhibited in the disproportionate development of its several parts. For instance ; suppose the intellect to he cultivated and the reasoning powers to be greatly strengthened and disciplined while the moral faculties are neglected.— Such an one has knowledge the most pro. found; i, at lire's protonndest depths and loftiest heights have been explored. Her darkest recesses have hriohtened at the presence of his glowing thoughts, and bear the deep impiess of his penetrating' mind. All the facts of universal history are incorporated among 111" mental tfeast'jres.— The abstruse and husky mathematics I brighten into day, and flow in honeyed sweetress lhrotmh hi* thoughts. The most subtle and cloudy metaphysics shine dear as a sunbeam betore his intellectual vision. 1 He lias talent too, n universal genius ; he ix never at n loss for means to effect his ends, for means well choSen, and well applied, adequate. sure, with the greatest tacility he hits upon one and then another expedient, always certain in their final  suet He turns every occasion to his own account, and shopes'every event into subserviency to his own schemes in accomplishing any restris his cupidity, ambition or extravagance may crave. He has influence too, the multitude yield him homage, an honfage prompted by nature's own voice, ;o talent and intellectual greatness. They come at Mj call, bow at his nod, and fly at hts command. He stirs himself and1 moves everybody and everything around him. But his morions are the heavfngs of the earthquake, the tempest and the whirlwind. Devastation, ruin, death are in. his path. He has light, and streams it forth, but it is the gleaming of the lightning's nessand insignificance, that cifher like littleness, which sinks its hapless victim into brutal subjection, to grovelipg passion, and unresisting vassalage to tho usurpations of haughty tyranny, and converts him into a mere plaything.for despots, on thn other. It is an estimate formed from a correct survey of these attributes, with which the Deity has endowed us; the r.ature, variety and extent of our powers ; and the exalted purposes they are capable and designed to subserve. •' Know thyself' was a motto which the ancients worthy of a conspicious inscription upon one ot their most celebrated temnle;, having descended from heaven. And is it not due to ourselves, (Jiat we yield a practical acquiescence to this mandamus, ond that wo form an estimate of what we are, in the unmisty light of that knowledge ? Of what utility can tf known powers be to us? What end can they subserve? can they supply us defense ? can they yield us happiness? can they secure improvement ? or qualify for usefulness? As soon would an unknown title to wealth relieve us of want, remove a sense of dependonee, and supply us with-the comforts of competence, and tho luxuries of affluence; or an unknown medicine cure a mortal malady. Concealed faculties, unlike.— The sjlvian flower that's doomed to bloom unseen, and waste its sweetness on the desert air," bloom not at all; they blast and wither in tho bud. They must be un. known, and like the domestic plan', be cultivated with assiduous care before their sweets unfold. Necessity, or.laws of gravitation, - • ■» Beyond his nativ* vale he never (poked ; But, thought the visual line that girt him round, Tfie" world's extreme ; .-.and thought the silver moon, That nightly o'er him led her virgin host,- No btouder than his father's uliiefd." Passing these by. let us fix oor attention upon the fnan who has entertained Correct views of the nature his creator has given him to cultivate and improve, and survey that symmetrical, well balanced, and beautifully proportioned character fie has developed. And what a pleasing contrast it presents to the characters above described. It combines all the excellencies of each with the defects of none. Like the beautiful Temple of Solomon, one can hardly conceive it the fabric reared from the scat' tered stones of the quarry. But il is even so $ each one has fobnd his appropriate place, the place lor which the builder intended it, and fits in with its fellows with such nice adaptation and admirable precision as to lose all its deformity, and emit only its comeliness and grace. In him, reason has assumed her proper supremacy; and exercises her free and legitimate control. The affections are phrifled and rightly directed. Tho grosser elements of his nature are field in due obeyance ; the' ferocity of passion is curbed and tamed ; the imagination is chastened and refined, and the whole man is cast into the moula of wisdom and goodness. An evenness and tranquility reign throughout his nature, resembling the sweet serenity of heaven, where an infinite intelligence holds the seeptrc,- dispensing abroad In munificent profusion his gifts of peace and delight. His is wisdom without conceit; talent without depravity ; knowledge without skepticism ; and superiority whheut' pride and haughtiness. His is goodprs9 without weakness, benevolence without prodigality, faith without superstition, piety without fanaticism, and zeal without enthusiasm. He has honor without vani.' ty, courage without rashdess, tind firmness without mulishness. His whole character is told in a word—Greatness. He is a Luther, a VVeslpy, a Wilberfbrce, a Newton, a Washington. And for such a character should every youth earnestly strive. CLOSE OF TIIE FIBST LECTURE. A second obligation which wc owe to ourselves, is, the development and cultivation or all the powers with which we are ndowed. We receive our natures in a state of imbecility ; our powers are rathcr seminal than fully developed and matured when they (low to us from the hand of our Maker. And, in imparting them to us In this condition, impressing them at the same time with a susceptibility of in C1C finite expansion and improvement, and placing fliein under, jjjr own control, lie has distinctly indicated his design that we should cultivate them to the greatest extent of which they nre capable, and our means and opportunities will allow, Hut if we eould lead in their condition no tie. sign of our Creator to this effect, '.lie fact that our nature i* capable ot belli# rrfin ed and enlarged, btk! that our happiness keep* pace with oar progression, is of i|. self a sufficient stimulus to vigorous anil untiring exertion after that perfection which is within our reach. As social beings, prompted by natural inclination to seek intercourse and fellowship with our lei low existences, we owe to ourselves a deep sense of 'he advantages society confers upon us, and the obligations we yro under to prornotn its weul.— We also owe it to ourselves to be strongly nnpr.-.-si'd with « sense of the superiority of the social instincts of man to the clariish propensities of brutes, and the delicate and exquisite polish of which they are susceptible: and above all, we owe them that polish and refinement, and the enjoyments and pb-asures which their appropriate on! Uvation naturally imparts. We need to understand our rank in the sopTal scale, and the respect and deference which ore ilue tor tfie different grades, ages, sexes, and conditions of our fellow berths uround us, and with whom we are frequently brought to associate. We need a simplicity, urbanity, frankness, gentian ess, ond courtesy of manner, a manliness and dignity of carriaite, a readiness and ease of adapting ourselves to the differing tastes, and manners, and capacities of others ; and the cultivatHiti of that fine taste and exquisite sensibility to the graces and amenities of social intercourse, which is pained ot the least approach to coarseness and affectation, and shrinks with instinct- '• Know thyself." Look in upon that mind which stirs within its mortal casket. Can you fathom the depths of its emotions, number up its powers, ond compute their strength ? Survey the varying tribes of animated being. Can you descry the round in that ladder of existence, which your Creator has as*igned you?— And the wreath with which he has encirclcd you? " A little lower than the angels, crowned with glory and honor." Have you considered the high estimate which an unerring intelligence has placed upon you, in that, He so loved, as to give his only son, to redepm you t Look out upon the boundless future, and contemplate the glo. lions destination which awaits yon ; those crowns of life and immortality, whose radiance out shines the sun, and illumines the darkness of eternity. Know you not, that you are not a mere ripple upon the boundless sea of being, floating into existence for a momefit, and then subsiding forever, but that your curiously completed frame is the abode of a substantial immortal mind, destined to exist hereafter thro' ever enduring happiness or misery ? O, with wha'. dignity and infinite importance do tho 6cripturo representations of immor- But let us pass to another phase of hu- man character, as exhibited in its paitin] cultivation. Suppose the moral faculties ore assiduously cultivated, to the neglect of the intellectual. Such a character pre sents an equal want of symmetry and proportion, whfcli, though h offers Jess to fear, presents also less to admire. For, though it may disarm our severity, it can never awaken our esteem. Sneb a man exhibits great sincerity of feeling, but little'oonsistency of action. He has an abiding honesty of heart, but a grievous laxity of conduct ; an unquestionable goodneas of motive and fritejition, but a lamentable lack of prudence and discretion ; an ardent benevolence, but no judgment to guide and regulate it ; a burning zeal, but no knowledge to control it; an acknowled purity of principle, but gros9 errors of sentirceBt. For though a lover of truth, But let no one suppose that substantial improvement will bo secured by cultivating one department of his nature to the neglect of another department. Man's nature is complex ; his powers are various, ft was necessary that it should be such in Older fothe exercise of that various ai»en- Cy, and the achievement of the different objects «vhich are manifestly bonnff up in the designs of his existence. But like the different links in a chain, his Various faculties are united in mutual dependance, and shed over each other a reciprocal influence. And as the strength and perfection of the chain consists in the strength and perfection of each link, so tho full and ma- The nurses and keepers of the Commrrcial Hospital, Cincinnati, have presented to Absalom Death, the steward, a silvci pitcher. Death smiled, hut not grimly.