'Well, if she will give you a kiss in that manner, I will give you a thousand dollars!' exclaimed one of the party.

And I'' And I cried three or four others; for it so happened that several rich young men were in the group, and bets ran high on so improbable an event; and the challenge was made and received in less time than we take to relate it.

Our hero-(my informant tells not whether he was handsome or plain; I have my peculiar reasons for believing that he was rather plain, but singularly good looking at the same time)—our hero immediately walked off to meet the young lady. He bowed to her, and said, 'My lady, my fortune is in your hand.' She looked at him in astonishment, but arrested her steps. He proceeded to state his name and condition, his aspiration, and related simply and truly what had just passed between him and his companions. The young lady listened attentively, and when he ceased to speak, she said, blushing, but with great sweetness, 'If by so little a thing so much good can be effected, it would be foolish in me to refuse your request;' and she kissed the young man publicly in the open square.

Next day the young student was sent for by the Governor. He wanted to see the man who had dared to ask a kiss of his daughter in that way, and whom she had consented to kiss so. He received him with a severe and scrutinizing brow, but, after an hour's conversation, was so pleased with him that he invited him to dine at his table during his studies in Upsala.

Our young friend now pursued his studies in a manner which soon made him regarded as the most promising scholar at the University. Three years were not passed after the day of the first kiss, when the young man was allowed to give a second one to the daughter of the Governor, as to his intended bride.

He became, later, one of the greatest scholars in Sweden, as much respected for his learning as for his character. His works will endure 50

VOL. XX.

DUSTO-PHOBIA.

A LOVE of neatness and method was conspicuous in Southey's life, and even in his literary productions. He derived it, in no small degree, from his aunt, with whom, however, it amounted to a disease. He says:

"Most people, 1 suspect, have a weakness for old shoes; ease and comfort and one's own fireside are connected with them; in fact, we never feel any regard for old shoes till they attain to the privilege of age, and then they become almost as much a part of the wearer as his corns. This sort of feeling my aunt extended to old clothes of every kind; the older and the raggeder they grew, the more unwilling she was to cast them off. But she was scrupulously clean in them; indeed, the principle upon which her whole household economy was directed was that of keeping the house clean, and taking more precautions against dust than would have been needful against the plague in an infected city. She labored under a perpetual dusto-phobia, and a comical disease it was; but whether I have been most amused or annoyed by it, it would be difficult to say. I had, however, in its consequences an early lesson how fearfully the mind may be enslaved by indulging its own peculiarities and whimsies, innocent as they appear at first.

"The discomfort which Miss Tyler's passion for cleanliness produced to herself, as well as to her little household, was truly curious; to herself, indeed, it was a perpetual torment; to the two servants a perpetual vexation, and so it would have been to me if nature had not blest me with an innate hilarity of spirit which nothing but real affliction can overcome. That the better rooms might be kept clean, she took possession of the kitchen, sending the servants to one which was underground; and in this little, dark, confined place, with a rough stone floor, and a skylight, (for it must not be supposed that it was a best kitchen, which was always, as it was intended to be, a comfortable sitting-room; this was more like a scullery) we always took our meals, and generally lived. The best room

was never opened but for company; except now and then on a fine day to be aired and dusted, if dust could be detected there. In the other parlor I was allowed to read, and she wrote her letters, for she had many correspondents; and we sat there sometimes in Summer, when a fire was not needed, for fire produced ashes, and ashes occasioned dust, and dust, visible or invisble, was the plague of her life. I have seen her order the teakettle to be emptied and refilled, because some one had passed across the hearth while it was on the fire preparing for her breakfast. She had indulged these humors till she had formed for herself notions of uncleanness almost as irrational and inconvenient as those of the Hindoos. She had a cup once buried for six weeks, to purify it from the lips of one whom she accounted unclean; all who were not her favorites were included in that class. A chair in which an unclean person had sat was put out in the garden to be aired; and I never saw her more annoyed than on one occasion when a man, who called upon business, seated himself in her own chair; how the cushion was ever again to be rendered fit for her use, she knew not! On such occasions, her fine features assumed a character either fierce or tragic; her expressions were vehement even to irreverence; and her gesticulations those of the deepest and wildest distress, hands and eyes uplifted, as if she was in hopeless misery, or in a paroxym of mental anguish."-Selected.

the skin, and thus prevents the edges from becoming sore or irritated, and it also helps to keep the tears within the lid. There are also six little muscles attached to the eye, which enable us to move it in every direction; and when we consider the different motions they are capable of giving to the eyes, we cannot but admire the goodness of Him who formed them, and has thus saved us the trouble of turning our heads every time we wish to view an object. Although the eyes of some animals are incapable of motion, as the fly, the beetle, and several other insects, yet the Creator has shown his wisdom and goodness in furnishing their eyes with thousands of little globes, and by placing their eyes more in front of their head, so that these little insects can see all around them without turning their heads. A gentleman, who has examined the eyes of a fly, says that the two eyes of a common one are composed of eight thousand little globes, through every one of which it is capable of forming an image of an object! Having prepared the eye of the fly for the purpose he pla ced it before his microscope, and looked through both, in the manner of a telescope, at a steeple which was two hundred and ninety-nine feet high and seven hundred and fifty feet distant; and he says he could plainly see, through every little hemisphere, the whole steeple inverted, or turned upside down.

HOW THE EYE IS SWEPT AND WASHED.

FOR us to be able to see objects clearly and distinctly, it was necessary that the eye should be kept moist and clean. For this purpose it is furnished with a little gland, from which flows a watery fluid, (tears,) which is spread over the eye by the lid, and is afterwards swept off by it, and runs through a hole in the bone to the inner surface of the nose, where the warm air, passing over it while breathing, evaporates it. It is remarkable no such gland can be found in the eyes of fish, as the element in which they live answers the same purpose. If the eye had not been furnished with a liquid to wash it and a lid to sweep it off, things would appear as they do when we look through a dusty glass. Along the edges of the eyelid there are a great number of little tubes or glands, from which flows an oily substance, which spreads over the surface of

CHRISTIANITY THE GUARDIAN OF WOMAN.

THE Women of Galilee and the sisters of Bethany, the helpers of Paul in Macedonia and Corinth, the martyred deaconesses of Lyons and Carthage, were surely lifted by their faith into a consciousness of the claims of the soul, to which nothing in Pagan antiquity can present a moral parallel. We have no desire to derogate from the just merits of German sentiment; or to establish any competition of pretension between its influence and that of Christianity. But is it too much to say, that, for the production of their beneficent results, the two agencies had to concur; and that if, on the one hand, the religion was comparatively barren until it struck upon the German soul, so, on the other, that soul had but the latent capacity for nobler development, till quickened by reception of the religion? We certainly believe that the chief function of the first eight centuries of the Church was to hand over the religion to its proper receptacle in the

Teutonic mind-there for the first time to exhibit, on a large scale, its native vitality, and find its appointed nourishment. Still, if we remember right, the chivalric poetry arose not in the Germanic race, but among the Romanesque tribes of Spain, France, and Italy; and flourished most where the Albigensian spirit had freest way, and the power of the priesthood was most weakened. Sismondi remarks the coincidence, in the Romance literature, of an elevated sentiment towards woman, with bitter satire upon the clergy; and we apprehend it was a true instinct which led the poet, inspired with any delicate and noble love, to turn his antipathies upon the sacerdotal system. That system it is which to this day prevents the sanctity and lowers the dignity of domestic life in the south of Europe; and makes the difference between the love which figures in an Italian opera, and that which breathes in the strains of Tennyson. It cannot be pretended that the Papal and priestly institutions, at whose door this evil is to be laid, afford any true representation of the religion of Christ. Wherever the characteristic sentiments of Christianity have had free action, wherever the faith has prevailed that life is a divine trust, committed to souls dear to God, equal among themselves, and each the germ of an immortality, there and there alone, has domestic affection been so touched with reverence and confidence, as to retain its freshness to the end, and afford a chastening discipline through life. The doctrines about the "Rights of woman," which have sprung from theories of political equality, and disowned the partnership of religious sentiment, have invariably produced great moral laxity; and in spite of high imaginative talk, fascinating to excitable natures, yield nothing truly noble, but only the monster greatness of mingled intellect and passion.

away. Her last hours were cheered, as her whole life had been gladdened, by our blessed faith; and when the summons for her departure came, she obeyed as serenely as did her honored father. Several friends have kindly written us concerning her last hours, and one whose heart is alive to the sorrows and ills of all around her, tells us of her calmness and hope. Watching with her just previous to her death, this friend found her unable to speak above a low whisper, and discerning by her motions that she desired to say something, the watcher put her ear close to the mouth of the dying one, and heard her say that she was perfectly sensible of her condition, was resigned and ready to go; and that all was bright before her. Being asked what she would like to have said for her to ourself, she looked up with a bright smile on her countenance, and replied, "Oh tell him I am very happy!" and she dropped away with that same calm and heavenly expression.

Thus has it always been, in every instance, where we have been privileged to minister to the young heart, and behold it expand into the life and beauty of womanhood, within the charined circle of our own portion of the Christian church.

This death must be a great bereavement to the mother and sister, and we pray for the Divine Comforter to be with them. Our friend was kind and good. Her society was a cheerful influence, and her active mind proved her an intelligent companion. To the last she valued the privileges of the Sanctuary and the Sabbath School, and she could always give a clear and powerful answer to those who asked a reason of the hope that was in her soul. May her death be sanctified to her numerous friends, and may they learn how pleasant is the memory of the good, and how holy the death of the believer.

Around thy grave I strew no flowers
Born of the Summer's breath,
But roses plucked from Gospel bowers,
That cheer the gloom of death.

H. B.

OBITUARIES.

MISS SUSAN IRONS.

DIED in Providence, R. I., Feb. 3, 1852, Miss SUSAN, eldest daughter of the late Capt. ARNOLD IRONS, aged 25 years. Thus has passed one to whom we were warmly attached, whose countenance always wore the expression of an intelligent mind and a happy disposition. She had long been ill with symptoms of consumption in a singular form, but her release came at an unexpected hour, and she passed quite suddenly

CORNELIA S. CARTEE.

DIED in Providence, R. I., Jan. 26, 1852, CORNELIA S. CARTEE, aged 18 years.

The shadowy valley was lengthened to this young pilgrim, for she lingered in the utmost feebleness for many months. It seemed wonderful that the body could still keep the spirit from winging its flight, so wasted did she become. Her frame seemed almost etherealized,

and her look was enough to calm any spirit into quietness and solemnity. She endured her long and painful sickness with exemplary patience; and we are happy in learning that the services of Br. R. Eddy, Jr., who was visiting his relatives and friends in Providence at the time, were very satisfactory in the last days of our young friend. She received comfort and strength from his reading to and praying with her. She desired him to attend her burial, and gave direction concerning all the arrangements of that last service to the body, with the utmost composure. "No longer the pall and the shroud wore gloom,They were traveling robes to a better home." When she had finished giving directions, she added, "And now I wish to be baptized, for I feel the Lord hath forgiven my sins." It gave us great satisfaction to hear of this; for we love not the sight of the enthusiast's death-bed, the shoutings of glory, and the winging of the soul amid exciting songs; but we love the sight of calmness, quietness, profound and holy thoughtfulness, that tell of the deep river of peace in the soul. Says a young friend in a letter to us,"Oh it was a solemn sight to see that young, emaciated girl raised up in bed, and that young servant of our blessed Master laying holy hands on her head in the holy rite of baptism. Calm and quiet was that death-chamber. Not a murmur escaped her lips, nor has a complaint been uttered through her whole sickness, and she passed from this world as quiet as the stars come forth at eventide."

We trust the numerous young friends of Cornelia will find in this sickness and death a salutary influence to enable them to look aright on life, and find the baptism of the spirit in their years of strength that will prepare them for the times of weakness and pain.

To the parents of Cornelia we tender our sincere sympathy, and would direct them to the true source of comfort in Christ our Savior. May the bright-eyed and sweet-faced cherub still spared to them, grow up lovely in the beauty of holiness, and find a life-hallowing influence in her sister's death.

E. F. H. WILLCOMB.

H. B.

flower, and despite their utmost care, it fades and droops and dies, we cannot but sympathize with them, though they may be utter strangers. We put our life in those things which we love and labor to keep alive; but the putting out of a thousand such lights as come from flowers and the beautiful things of outward life, are nothing to the wasting away of the starry light of an infant's eyes. Some speak of a child's departure as a light bereavement, and say, "It's nothing but a child!" But such little know how much is laid away in the death of a little child,-we bury not merely the infant, but also all that we hoped it would live to be; as years pass, and we are reminded of the lost one by the form of some youthful creature, we bury again the dear one, as we think, "If my darling were alive now, I should have an object like that in my home to comfort me."

Towards young hearts burying that which taught them first what parental love really is, we are always moved with deep compassion; and to these parents, whose loss we have recorded, we tender our warmest sympathies and the commendation of the divine hopes of the Gospel, as we commended to them a life of virtuous love in the hour of their marriage union.

REV. H. B. SOULE.

H. B.

We record with the liveliest sympathy towards the suddenly bereaved companion of our brother, our estimate of our brother's life and ministry. The readers of the Repository have been familiar with his writings. The series of articles by Rev. Schoolcraft Jones, were from his pen, and his last communication for our pages, ("The Uses of Sorrow," in the January No., written on the death of a very dear friend,) contains the most fitting meditation on his death. Br. Soule lived a useful life. Never was there a better field before him than when he was so suddenly called away; and while we pray for the widow and her children, we pray for ourselves, that God may be unto her and unto us, direction and strength.

H. B.

DIED in Boston, Mass., E. F. H., only child of Capt. C. L., and Mrs. L. M. WILLCOMB, aged twenty-two months.

CHARACTERS IN THE GOSPELS, Illustrating Phases of Character at the Present Day. By Rev. E. H. Chapin. New York: Redfield. 1852. pp. 163.

64

This was a happy conception, to bring out characters from the records of the Evangelists and make them representatives of classes to be met with now. Mr. Chapin makes the Reformer, the Sensualist, the Sceptic, the Man of the World, the Seeker after Religion, and the Active and Meditative Religionist to pass before us in his picturings of character, suggested by the characters of John the Baptist, Herod, Thomas, Pilate, Nichodemus, and the Sisters of Bethany. This volume exhibits a more quiet treatment of his themes than is usual to the author, and to this we attribute the greater depth of impression made by the reading of his strong and forcible thoughts. The idea of the volume is, that human nature is the same in all ages, but difference of occasions bring out into different expressions similar traits and dispositions. History," says our author, "could not teach by examples, it could have no practical value, unless the ground-work of character were in all ages the same." The opening discourse on the Reformer is a piece of capital description and discrimination. We were pleased especially with the portrait of Quietism, with its clear insight to see objections and discern the ludicrous side in all proposed reforms, or made too easy by creature comforts to have any understanding of social wants,-" comfortable men with plenty of beef and coal.” Fenced in as they are against sharp necessities, and well to do in the world, they cannot discern the use of all this agitation-they do not see but that things are as near right as they can be, and they class together and denounce all reformers indiscriminately, as 'radicals' and 'fanatics.' And yet, perhaps one rod from the Quietist thinker, or the Quietist eater, some pale mother drains the last drop of sustenance to moisten the lips of a dying infant; some husband and father reels home like a demon to his trembling and destitute family; some child's soul is seething in the lowest pit of evil; some woman's heart of virtue is struggling between gold and despair; some man is buffeted by starvation into crime, and all around a tempted and paralytic humanity sends up inarticulate groans to heaven. Ah, men with cool heads and fat larders, can philosophize and de

nounce; but it is a different thing with those upon whom misery presses with a cincture of iron, through whose veins passion runs like lava, for whom in their moral weaknesses vice opens its doors, and whose heads are canopied with curses. And we can easily see why some who have witnessed these and other forms of guilt and wrong, will agitate-will cry out Reform!' And if others would drop the kaleidoscope of curious speculation and look around with their naked eyes,-if they would turn from their faces in the cheerful fire to the faces in the crowd-they too, perhaps, would find some justification for reform. If not, I think the veriest fanatic of change, with all his vituperation and eccentricity, who still feels stirred to speak for humanity, has a heart more akin to the great Baptist, nay, to him who, with a gentler spirit, lifted up the suffering and bore the woes of man in his all-loving breast, than those who have wrought themselves into a selfish indifference, or who marvel and denounce in easy chairs."

"one

In the sensualist there is a fine passage against the common idea of regarding the licentious man as worthy of little blame when his sensuality is associated with other traits of character-what are called generous qualities, or great intellectual qualities. It is not to be considered as of those 'infirmities' which genius transmutes and glorifies," but as "a despotic fault by which it is dragged down and dethroned. Many a stripling considers his excesses as the crackling of the ethereal flame, the dross of inspiration, and as essential to the part which he has assumed as the ‘eye in a fine frenzy rolling.' It generally happens, however, that his achievements are limited to the darker hemisphere of genius. He exhibits little of Sheridan save his recklessness, and nothing of Byron except the gin and water. It has been said that the defects of great men are the consolations of dunces;' but they are also the sorrow of the truly wise, who in the very proportions of the achievement detect the greatness of the aberration."

The Sceptic is a strong werd of peculiar excellence and peculiarly timely. The passage in which our author speaks against the sceptic's exclusive regard to logic and the logical faculty, is strongly to the right point. "The intercourse of hearth and home, the relations of child and mother, and brother and friend, are not deductions of