Thou 'st been a noble wife, I read it in thine eyes, I hear it in thy sighs, Thy love with time shall stand. WOMAN. I BELIEVE That woman, in her deepest degradation, Holds something sacred, something undefiled, Some pledge and keepsake of her higher nature, And, like the diamond in the dark, retains Some quenchless gleam of the celestial light. MAN AND WOMAN. WE have heard much said in our time upon the relative position of the two sexes, have listened to discussions in debating societies upon this interesting theme, and have read a few pamphlets, not to say volumes, upon the subject, and therefore ought to have a pretty good knowledge of all that has been said, and all that is possible to say upon the question, and the best kind of a right to settle it beyond all further controversy or appeal. And in the first place we would say, that the question as to superiority between the sexes can never be decided either way, for the simple reason that each is inferior and each superior, in some qualities, to the other. As it is said of two orders of heavenly beings, "The cherubim know most, the seraphim love most," so would we say that the man knows most, the woman loves most. And it were as rash to say that either man or woman was the superior being, as to place cherub above seraph or seraph above cherub. The truth is, that in the beautiful order of nature, the man and woman together make the perfect man. Thus they were created, as the Scripture saith: "So God created man in his own image; in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them." Every thing in this earth is disjointed and imperfect even the planets can only attain their grand circular marches, not from one steady impulse, but from the union of two different forces. It is so with every thing in this world. Nothing is perfect, whole, and circular; all is imperfect, halved, and unfinished. And because this is so, is it that the most perfect happiness results from the union of two congenial minds. And they are congenial, not so much because they resemble one another, in one sense, but because they join and fit into one another, as it were, and tend to make up the perfect soul. But there are some women that will not be satisfied with any thing less than an entire equality, or rather similarity, with men. These, however, are very few, and they have generally blundered into such demands from a consciousness of violated rights, not seeing exactly what those rights were. We do not believe that women will ever equal men in certain departments of literature, neither do we believe that men will ever equal women in certain other. Each have their appropriate walk, and a masculine woman is as much out of the beautiful order of nature, as an effeminate man. What is natural is ever lovely and beautiful to the soul, but what is unnatural is repulsive. We cannot go behind nature and say why this is so; we can only feel and acknowledge that it is. Each sex has its peculiar station and duties in the world, else the creation of more than one were superfluous. Each has plenty of work adapted to its mode of thought, its peculiar feelings, power, and physical organization, Let the only strife, therefore, between the two, be as to which shall perform its part most faithfully "in the great Taskmaster's eye." "THEY sin who tell us love can die; They perish where they have their birth. Its holy flame forever burneth; From heaven it came, to heaven returneth. Too oft on earth a troubled guest, At times deceived, at times oppressed. It here is tried and purified, Then has in heaven its perfect rest; It soweth here with toil and care, TO MY MOTHER. OFT I've thought of thee, my mother, Of the homestead by the knowe. By the hand he held me fast st; And, though not a word was spoken, Not a whisper uttered low, Still he told how thou didst love me Straight he pointed to the bedside, |