now. But it is all in vain. Nothing real is ever thus effected by main force. Changes in the church and society come not of the flesh, neither by the will of man, but by the will of God. Let some General Assembly, or Convocation of the Clergy, resolve to remodel the church upon the theology of some more flourishing period; they may do it in form and in name, but not in reality. They are like David clothed in Saul's armor. They cannot carry it to the field, much less do battle when there. They would do better to go with their simple sling, and the five smooth stones, truth, honesty, faith, hope, and charity. Any system, however liberal and generous it may be in itself, is It then contracted by its entrance into a narrow mind. loses its form and comeliness; and straightway all lofty and poetic souls become dissatisfied with it, and seek something nobler and more beautiful.

We had intended to say a word on the prospects of theological discussions and controversies, but our article has already reached such a length that we forbear.

DREAM.

"Mine eyes he closed; but open left the cell

Of fancy, my internal sight.".

Paradise Lost.

WHERE am I? Leaves and blossoms glittering,
Ancient shades and lofty trees

I have seen you, — when, I know not.

How familiar is this breeze,

Bearing coolness, fragrance bearing
From that darkly wooded grot,
With the tinkling sound of water!-
O! I know thee, lovely spot!
Has my youth returned, or has it
Never left me, save in dreams?
Matters not; since, warmly glowing,
Now, my heart is in its beams.
Now another dim foreboding

Draws me toward yon old gray wall,
Climbing o'er, I see a garden-
Yes! I'll soon discover all.

Something, yet but half-remembered,
Will not let me here remain;
Onward! Onward toward those loved ones,
My impatience grows a pain.
What a dreary time I've wasted!

How could I forget their love?
From my native Eden flying

Over Earth's cold mountains rove?

In the twilight richly mingled
With the moonlight's purer ray,
Rise grey turrets veiled in misty
Colors both of night and day.
From the Gothic portal rush the
Blended floods of light and sound,
Up the marble steps I hasten,
Cross the terrace with a bound.
Now an ancient Hall I enter,

And at once an hundred eyes

Turn with friendly gaze of welcome,
And each voice this greeting cries,-
"Long expected! Welcome! Welcome!"
But no formal salutation

Brought these graceful, lordly figures
From their earnest occupation.
Some were seated, others standing,
Grouped together, or apart;

But One Interest seemed to fasten
In its chain each mind and heart.
From an unseen harp the surges

Rushed in long unbroken swell;
Every form was bathed in radiance,
Whence it came I could not tell.
As I look, some ancient story
Rises in my memory - No!
"T is my own past life which rises;
As the vapors backward go
I see plainly; - often, often
Have I met you, friendly Powers!
By your superhuman beauty

And your wondrous love, the hours
Of my infancy were nurtured,

And my childish mind was taught Lessons of unearthly wisdom

From the purer regions brought.

Gracefully a girl steps forward

From behind a silver screen:
"One thou hast forgotten, Brother,
Her, our sister and our Queen;
Follow quickly." Quick I follow,
Laughingly she flies before,
Passing sculptured arch and portal,
High saloon and marble floor,

Galleries filled with stately plants,
Pouring streams of perfume round,
Terraces, where noble statues

Stand amid the flowery ground.

My guide has gone. I stand alone,
Solemnly the stars sweep by;
Hush! light footsteps strike my ear,
She has come. The faithful eye
Knows the form, the look, the motion
Stampt upon the inmost heart;
Dearest, loveliest, thus I clasp thee,
One warm kiss. But then we part,
For with timid haste she glides
Softly from my arms' embrace,
Full of love and maiden terror
Gazing upward in my face.

Those blue eyes, lid-shaded, trust me,
But the mouth is trembling still,
Blood-drops of a priceless value
The soft neck and bosom fill.
Now together we are seated,

Her small hands repose in mine,
While a million stars above us,

Blessing-showering, smile and shine.
Not by words our love is spoken,
Yet each feeling, every thought
By quick glance, and gentle pressure,
In electric chain is brought.

All things outward words may carry,
But the inmost heart is known
Only as the ringing harp-string
Wakes its slumbering brother-tone.
Years pass by- and side by side
Still remain the lovers seated,
Years on years or but a moment.
Not by periods time is meted
To the souls which, statue-like,

-

Are moulded by a single thought; Passionless to all things outward,

Time and space to them are nought.

IDEALS OF EVERY-DAY LIFE. No. II.

HOME.

"And the house was filled with the odor of the ointment."- JOHN xii. 3.

BEAUTIFUL and blessed was that house, the simple home of Mary and of Martha! more blessed in its unostentatious welcome of that divine pattern of humility, who was wont to sit and talk with them as a familiar friend, and by the kindling of heavenly thoughts remind them that here is Heaven, than in any thrift or splendor! More beautiful because of the simple and true hearts that dwelt together there, than it could be made by any adornments of fortune! Sublime in history and never to be forgotten is that obscure home, that one from among so many which share the common oblivion of dulness! And it does not borrow all its fame from its illustrious guest. It is probable that Jesus entered many houses, and was familiar with many circles of which we shall never hear. It is the life that was lived there that makes that home beautiful. The beautiful life of its inmates illumined that obscure abode, and invested it with an importance more lasting than any that ever lingered about a monarch's palace. The truest riches and comfort were theirs; for thoughts of heaven, sublime anticipations of the soul's destiny, and consciousness of God, were daily bread to them. There was the true abundance, the generosity which afforded more than economy thinks it possible to provide. Economy murmured; but sentiment poured out the precious ointment. Yes! Blessed was that home, in which more was expended upon sentiment than upon mere world's economy; in which a hint of the heart was listened to as readily as one of prudence or utility. There enthusiastic veneration could afford its offering, though it is probable that poverty had to provide. And the house was filled with the odor of the ointment which the affectionate Mary poured upon the feet of Jesus. It was but the emblem of the more lasting odor of the heavenly sentiment which inspired that act. We see what feelings

found a world in that house, what love, what faith, what veneration dwelt there and sanctified all things, and gilded with a holy sunlight of new associations those dull walls. The memory of that house is sweet with the fragrance of the virtues which there grew and blossomed. In the odor of that ointment it is embalmed forevermore. I would that more of that odor filled our comfortable dwellings, so that we might with more sincerity repeat the old saying; "Home is home, were it never so homely." I would that more of the true philosophy of indoor life were felt and practised; that more generous and far-seeing views of life might control the economy of the household; and that home might be the blessed meeting-place of happy and enlightened spirits, each a kingdom in itself, each made unspeakably richer in the love of the other, instead of a mere refuge of necessity, or a dull haunt of habit, or a whited sepulchre of show and fashion. Home should be heaven, a consummation not entirely to be despaired of by any who are willing to be wise; and which fortune has less power to further or prevent than we are apt to think.

In attempting to show, therefore, how a higher beauty and interest may be added to life, in all its daily forms, home becomes an object more worthy of our study than any other. All reform begins at home. What a man's home is, his whole life will be, as a general rule. And the principles, the ideas, the plans, the motives, the hopes, and fears which govern him there, and constitute the atmosphere of his dwelling, will go out with him into all his intercourse and business. If all is well at home, we need not watch him in the market. If he is a true man there,

he is a true man every where. If wise and prudent there, he will not need to be made any more a "man of the world." If he can succeed in redeeming life's most familiar scenes from dulness and unprofitableness, the world abroad will be all fresh and full of entertainment. If he be not a dull familiar stranger in his home, he will find himself at home wherever he goes. If there be independence of physical comforts, and abundance of mental, moral, and social resources in one's dwelling, there will be no unnecessary anxiety, no feverish hurry, no narrow drudgery in one's business abroad. One will work cheerfully for small profits, if he be rich in the love and society