With pale spring flowers; and to the angel bands A seraph will be given. Better to die Too soon, than to be passed forgotten by. Better to die in youth or manhood's prime; For then kind friends will mourn, tears will be shed, And requiems will be sung; and for a time At least, some loving hearts will mourn the dead. Their summons reached them in this lower sphere: Joy that they were not left forgotten here. Better to die; e'en though the joys of life Are round thee, and thy heart clings close to earth. Better to die; e'en though the din and strife Of multitudes is music, and bright mirth Wait on thy steps. Better e'en then to die, Than to be passed, like me, forgotten by! Forgotten by my God! And shall I go Uncalled into his presence? shall I dare THE ALABASTER BOX OF OINTMENT. BY C. F. LE FEVRE. Ir is recorded in that book which above all others has an imperative claim to our regard, that as our good Master sat at meat in the house of one of the Pharisees, 'there came to him a woman having an alabaster box of very precious ointment, and poured it on his head.' This instance of regard on the part of this woman, excited the indignation of his immediate disciples. To them it had the appearance of extravagance, and they hesitated not to avow their disapprobation by saying, 'to what purpose is this waste, for this ointment might have been sold for much, and given to the poor.' But the benevolent being on whom this mark of affection had been bestowed, and who read the motive which had produced the act, was pleased to advocate her cause. He commended her for the good work that she had done. He intimated that this exhibition of kindness was not misplaced; that it need not interfere with their charity for the poor, 'who were always with them,' and finally remarked that 'wherever this gospel shall be preached, there also that which she hath done shall be told as a memorial of her.' It has been told. It has come down to us in that same record which brings 'life and immortality to light.' This simple token of the heart's devotion has maintained its place among the most stupendous events that any history has ever recorded; it is found united with the life, ministry, suffering, and glorification of the most august being, with which heaven has ever blest mankind. Ages and centuries have rolled away, but the fragrance of that ointment is not impaired. It is still a sweetsmelling savor; and this action shall still pass down to future ages, and stand out as a bright memorial of that woman's reverential devotion and pious love. The moral which this incident unfolds will tend to correct a very common, and, I fear, growing error. It seems to be the opinion of a large number in the community, that nothing is worthy of being promoted and encouraged which is not strictly useful, by which word utilitarians mean what is imperiously necessary and profitable. Every thing that does not bring an interest in dollars and cents, is placed to the account of ex travagance, and considered as a waste of time and means. Is any thing proposed whose only object is to adorn and embellish and beautify, we are immediately met with the enquiry, 'to what purpose is this waste?' nor will the superadded consideration fail of being enforced, 'this money had better be given to the poor.' The claims of the poor are imperative, and no plan that wisdom or benevolence dictates should be disregarded, which has for its object the amelioration of their condition. But it may be a very important inquiry whether the adornments and elegancies of life do tend to poverty. Doctor Oliver Goldsmith, in that inimitable work, the Vicar of Wakefield, has the following remark: 'the nakedness of the indigent world might be clothed with the trimmings of the vain.' But it is still a question which is worth considering, whether they are not in a great measure thus supplied. And does not experience add its testimony that the moral health of the poor is better consulted while they are employed in seemingly trifling and useless labor, than it would be by clothing and feeding them in a state of inactivity? Nature is a bountiful mother, and after all demands for the actual necessaries and comforts of life, there is a large surplus revenue to be devoted to purposes of taste and refinement. When we examine the character and constitu tion of man, we readily perceive that he has wants, if not as imperious, yet quite as desirable to gratify as those of his bodily appetites. The impulse of his mind to secure them their appropriate food is as constant and frequent as to provide nourishment for the body. Indeed, it is by the manifestation of this mental appetite that he stands preeminent above other animals. He occupies a station far above the vegetable and brute creation. He does not remain stationary, rooted to one spot, and there await the rains of heaven to nourish him, and then, like the plant, having arrived at maturity, hasten to decay, and finally enrich by its remains the soil which he had served to exhaust in his growth. Nor must men be looked upon as the mere brute, who has no other desires than to be fed and protected from the inclemencies of the weather. He is of another and a higher order, and every thing which tends to lay open those powers which are folded up in him, is useful, laudable, right, and fitting. The efforts which he may make to gratify the cravings of his mind, are as legitimate as those which he employs for the sustenance of the body. It is, indeed, this development of the more noble part of man that constitutes the difference between the civilized and the savage man. For the mere purposes of existence the son of the forest is as |