useful; even though both were in circumstances imperatively demanding their industry.

In this respect the manners of society have suffered a deplorable change. The time was, when labor was held in honor among even the rich and noble; when even ladies of the highest fortune and rank, thought it not beneath them to work occasionally with their hands. Near the conclusion of the last century but one, Queen Mary, of England, who was joint sovereign with her husband, the heroic William the Third, "used frequently," as history informs us, "to employ some part of her time in needlework; appointing one or other of her maids of honor to read something lively, as well as instructive, to her, and to the rest, whilst they were busy with their needles."

The age next preceding that of Mary, furnishes at least one example in high life, that is still more remarkable. Sir Walter Raleigh, lodging at the house of a noble Duke, early in the morning overheard the Duchess inquiring of her servants if the pigs had been fed, and, with a significant smile, asked her, as he was going to the table, if her pigs had had their breakfast. She archly replied, "They have all been fed, except the strange pig that I am now about to feed."

The man, who, of all the American worthies, was first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen," was no less remarkable for industry than for wisdom and integrity.

One of the biographers of Washington remarks of him, "his industry was unremitted, and his method so exact, that all the complicated business of his military command, and civil administration, was managed without confusion, and without hurry. It was the assemblage of these traits of character, so early visible in

him, that recommended him, when scarcely more than a boy, to an embassy of no ordinary importance, hazard, and difficulty. Happy were it if the youths of America would, in this respect, copy the example of one whose memory they so delight to honor.

Few things are impossible to industry, skilfully directed. By it, men of but moderate talents rise sometimes to deserved eminence; by it, the man of "small things" expands himself by little and little, till he comes at last to occupy a respectable space in society; and by it the face of the living world is illumined and gladdened.

What difficulties have been overcome, what wonders have been wrought, and what immense benefits have been procured by the industrious application of the mental and corporeal powers

of man!

On the other hand, no gifts of nature, or of fortune, can supersede the necessity for industry. Sloth is a rust, that eats up the finest ingredients of genius, and mars and consumes the greatest of fortunes. He that is slothful of mind, loseth his mind; instead of enlarging it, it contracts and diminishes as he increases in years. He that is slothful in business, will at last have neither business to do, nor any thing to sustain his declining age. In short, a downright slug, whether in high life or low, vegetates rather than lives. Habitual indolence is one of the worst symptoms in youth; a fever is less hopeless than a lethargy.

NUMBER LXXX.

OF THE MORAL USE OF THE PILLOW-WITH REFLECTIONS ON SLEEP.

"CONSULT THY PILLOW. "" This short counsel contains more than meets the eye." The pillow is the close friend of meditation, of serious thoughtfulness, and of freedom of conscience, in so far as it gives that faithful monitor the best of opportunities for administering wholesome reproof.

"The day is thine; the night also is thine: "—and with the like graciousness are they both given, the one for labor, and the other for rest-nor yet for rest alone, but also for a sober survey of past life, and more particularly of the day that has fleeted last. The mantle of darkness, which hides exterior objects, turns the busy mind upon itself, willingly or unwillingly, according to its moral frame and habits.

Human greatness, that lords it by day, is not at all exempt from stern admonishment on the pillow. There, no longer able to show off splendor and prowess, its pride is not flattered, nor are its feelings spared. Ahasuerus, for example, the richest, the

most splendid, and the most puissant of all the monarchs of the East-reigning from India even unto Ethiopia, over a hundred and seven and twenty provinces;-this Ahasuerus laid him down upon his bed of gold, in a spacious room supported by pillars of marble, and adorned with white, green, and blue hangings, fastened with cords of fine linen and purple to silver rings. Thus he laid him down, amid an unrivalled profusion of Eastern magnificence-but on that night, could not the king sleep. The world else was asleep. The man-servant and the maid-servant, the meanest of slaves, the veriest wretches in the whole realm, were fast asleep. And could not the lord and master of them all, the monarch in the palace of Shushan— could not he woo slumber to his eyelids? Alas, no! It turned, however, to good. Of necessity, rather than of choice, the luxurious and effeminate despot, to relieve him from sore restlessness, bethought himself of improving the wearisome vigils of the night in looking into the affairs of his government. He called for the reading of the book of records of the chronicles; and finding that an upright and excellent servant, to whom he owed his life, had been utterly neglected, he ordered him a bounteous reward.-A righteous deed, which never, in any probability, would he have done, had he not consulted his pillow.

It is upon the pillow that the book of records of the chronicles is most frequently set before the eyes of those mortals, who sadly misspend their time, and abuse the high privileges of their nature. Conscience presents the handwriting, and there is no such thing as turning their eyes away from it. In vain they turn, and toss themselves on this side, and on that, longing for sleep; the records of the chronicles are still full in their view

and they are fain to make vows and solemn promises, too often unheeded on the morrow.

Projects of too great hazard-plans of questionable nature and doubtful issue-resolutions taken up of a sudden, and without being duly weighed :—these, engendered by the fever of the day, are abandoned, or rectified, upon coolly consulting the pillow. So that many a one has risen up in the morning, with more reasonable sentiments and views respecting his personal affairs, than those with which he had lain down. And many a one, also, by consulting the pillow, has cooled hot resentments, and abandoned purposes of revenge.

In consulting the pillow, one thing especially is to be ever kept in practical remembrance; and that is, to offer up the silent adorations of the heart, both at the instant of falling asleep, and at the moment of waking. "I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou Lord only makest me to dwell in safety.— I laid me down and slept; I awaked; for the Lord sustained me."

And what art thou, Sleep? Of what stuff art thou made? Whence comest thou when thou visitest our pillows, and whither goest thou when, ceasing to press gently our eyelids, thou art borne away upon the wings of the morning? Thou incomprehensible Something-thou invisible solace of heavy-laden man -should one gain the whole world in exchange for thee, how pre-eminently miserable would be that one!

"The great cordial of nature is sleep. He that can sleep soundly, takes the cordial; and it matters not, whether it be on a soft bed, or on the hard boards. It is sleep only that is the thing necessary." This sovereign cordial, so often denied to