George embraced her tenderly, and as she looked up to him with so much truth and love, the moon, which at that moment rose behind the eastern mountain, shone on her lovely face and on the tears that trembled in her soft blue eyes-neither spoke—they felt deeply and thank- { fully their unspeakable happiness. They had now reached the opening of the valley, and Rosina found, when she looked around her, that they had taken the accustomed path that led them by the forge. She did not wish to pass it, and said so to her lover. He smiled and answered, "I must entreat you to come a little farther. I have something to say to my master before I take you home." who I was. Your answer troubled me-I knew not whether to hope or despair. This state of doubt was dreadful, I would know my fate, would see you in my own person, and hear what you would decide. Therefore I arranged your coming hither, and thus, agitated with many anxious cares, I was awaiting you, when you appeared at the fountain." "And you, wicked man, could deceive me so and frighten me with the captain?" Forgive me, Rosina, for a deception that formed no part of my plan, but which was suggested to me by your own words. Forgive me, if it has caused you an unpleasant moment, but, believe me Rosina, the knowledge it has given me of your true, disinterested, holy love, is worth all the treasures of the earth-oh, Rosina, I am happier than I can tell you-hap deserve." He pressed her again to his heart, and both felt silently their perfect blessedness. Rosina yielded to his wish. He sought a pleasant seat for her, and begged her to wait a moment there. He hastened to the house while Rosina looked impatiently for his return, fear-pier than I deserve, or than any mortal can ing she might be seen by the officer. In a short time she heard a step-turned-and, to her great terror, saw the officer approaching her in full uniform. She heard her name called by a well known voice, as the moon threw her full light upon him-it was George's figure, his walk, his features. At length Rosina remembered she must return- My carriage will soon be ready," answered George. "Let us go for a moment to the house, let me again call you mine in the spot where you were so long, so fearfully "Great God ! What is this?" cried Rosina separated from me!" She followed him. It trembling. But George embraced her and pressed her with tears of joy to his heart. It is the Beloved reward of your love aud truth! court yard, placed himself beside her and soon reached Frau Fischer's house. Her friend was greatly surprised to see Rosina with the officer, and could scarcely believe in a turn of fate that could convert the poor woodcutter, they had so long thought dead, into a captain of hussars. She rejoiced heartily with her happy friend, and was soon very busy in preparing the feast for the wedding, which a fortnight after was celebrated without show or pomp in the presence of a small circle of friends. was furnished simply, but with taste, Rosina leaning on his arm, surveyed, with many sad recollections, each well known spot, until the captain's carriage was announced. He then led Rosina! I am not a poor subordinate as I jest-her to the handsome equipage that stood in the ingly told you. I am a captain of Hussar's, and the forge belongs to me. God has blessed me wonderfully, Rosina' He gave me favor with those above me; I rose rapidly from a private to a subaltern; then to a lieutenant. My colonel became attached to me. I saved his life in the battle of Leipsic, and at La Ferté he fell beside me mortally wounded. I had an opportunity of distinguishing myself, was made a captain on the field of battle and gained the cross. But it gave me no joy for my colonel, my second father, died that very evening in my arms. A large legacy from him enabled me to leave the army at the end of the war, for I felt that I needed rest. I had heard of you from time to time, of your husband's death, and of this property being offered for sale. In a few weeks I came hither, no one knew me, no one recognized in the wealthy officer, the unfortunate woodcutter, and I avoided meeting those with whom I formerly associated until you had decided my fate,-till then, I lived only in thinking of you. To my dismay, I heard of the suit of the wealthy merchant, and longed to know if your heart responded to it-Frau Fischer questioned you on the subject without knowing About a year and a half afterward Herr von Z. was persuaded to accompany a friend, whose business led him thither, to the valley he had resolved never again to visit. He had been but an hour in the village, when he was surprised by a visit from an officer he thought to be a perfect stranger, but who soon announced himself as his former guide, poor George, whose miserable death he had so frequently deplored. Z.'s first inquiry was for Rosina, and he could not restrain his joy at finding this faithful pair were at last united. George showed him the travelling case he had so long before presented to him, and insisted that both he and his friend should take up their abode at his house during excellent Z. was, in witnessing the perfect their stay in the valley. Rosina, now the union of this long tried pair. He has since mother of a lovely daughter, received him with visited them frequently, and, from this sanctujoy, and both she and her husband did all inary of domestic bliss, and well proved virtue, their power to render his visit a happy one. returns elevated and refreshed to his important But the greatest happiness of the noble and duties in the capitol. Come then, O Muse, and bring along Pure Taste and Harmony; For Arthur's Magazine. SELF GOVERNMENT. BY THE EDITOR. ARIOUS are the con- is conscious, that, within his mind, there is a something, which, in spite of his judgment, causes him, while its influence predominates, to feel or act contrary to his sober sense of what is right. He may, for instance, have a feeling of is that of self-govern-envy at the prosperity of others, ruling in his ment. With what a mind. He becomes aware of the activity of this peculiar emotion of feeling, from the uneasiness which it produces pride and pleasure within him. Its pain makes it apparent, and are the words utter- indicates that it is wrong. Now, how shall he ed-" I am a man now!" But how few, if, get free from the influence of such an evil emoindeed, any who thus exult, can control them- tion? or, in other words, how shall he be enabled selves. They feel a proud consciousness of sud- to govern himself in such a way as to keep this denly acquired power and influence, but, where envious spirit so much under control, as never most needed, over themselves, they have made to be influenced by it to injure one more prosperno accessions of strength Too often, inclina-ous, in word or action? To subdue such a tion influences every decision, and passion is allowed to blind the perceptions where correct action is most needed. troublesome bias of the mind, it will be allimportant for him to look it, if we may so speak, full in the face. To perceive, and acknowledge, that he could not feel uneasiness at his neighbor's greater success in business, or the same feeling at his superior reputation for learning or talents, if he had not, in his mind an evil principle of envy. He must let no feeling of self-esteem blind him to the truth that he is really envious. Upon this struggle for an honest self-acknowledgment of the truth, no matter how painful it may be, hangs all important consequences. If the truth To acquire that self-control so much needed, and so much desired by every one. it is necessary, in the beginning, that the thoughts should be turned inwards, in calm, unbiassed, earnest, searching exploration. For a man must know himself before he can govern himself; and only by a process of mental exploration can he possibly know himself. This process, at first, will not be found an easy one. But it will soon begin to exhibit fruits. One discovery of a hid-be acknowledged, as well as felt, then half the den bias of character, will open the way for new discoveries, and the longer and more frequently the mind is turned inward upon itself, the more will its true elements be perceived in their real forms, character, and relations. And it will also be perceived, how these elements rule the life, and control the external actions. Such a system of self examination once entered upon, the next thing to be done, is, of course, to use the power thus acquired, in selfgovernment. It is always a great help to the right understanding of any proposition, to illustrate it in some way. It may, therefore, be useful, to detail, more practically, the process of self-exploration, and the manner of applying the knowledge thus gained to life. battle is gained. But, if, from a principle of false pride, he refuse to acknowledge the real existence of the evil, then he will pass under its more powerful dominion, and be strangely blinded to its existence. Having sought out, and brought into the light of his own perceptions this moral perversion, and acknowledged that it is an evil, his plain duty, of course is, to struggle against the entertainment of envious feelings; knowing, that to foster such feelings, he must himself be injured. A consideration that would greatly assist him in this struggle, is the fact, that any evil feelings, cherished, must and will gain strength; and, that he cannot tell how soon, from entertaining those of envy, he may be led to attempt secret injury. But, let us look at another case. A common We will suppose the case of a young man who fault of young men is an impatience of opposition They cannot bear to have their own opinions called in question, nor to have their inclinations checked by the interposition of reasons offered by those who are older and more experienced. A young man of a certain temperament gets into an argument with one of his own age, or with one his senior by twenty years. They differ in their views, and he becomes at once excited. The opposition of even sounder reasons than any he can possibly offer, only excites an antagonist principle, instead of convincing him. Too soon, his feelings become excited, and he allows himself to indulge in harsh and unbecoming language. If it so happen that he has the best of the argument, and his opponent in the controversy, disregards the weight of his reasoning, or cannot perceive it, the same result follows. He cannot govern himself. He is impatient of opposition. In his moments of sober thought he regrets his weakness, and is ashamed of his conduct. But again and again he is overcome and falls into like mental condemnation. For such a one, great watchfulness is necessary. He should never forget his weakness. And, as a primary means of self-control, he should explore { his own mind, and endeavor to learn why it is that he cannot bear the slightest opposition. In all probability, he will find that he so highly esteems himself, as to be almost unconscious of acting wrong under any circumstances; and this self esteem is roused whenever there is any opposition to what he does or says. He must endeavor, if he would correct this error, to remember, that others are as honest in their opinions as he is, and that he should have the same respect for their opinions that he desires them to have for his. Thus acknowledging that others have the same consciousness of being right that he has, he will be led to see that he is actually trenching upon their rights when he becomes angry at opposition, instead of their trenching upon his. He demands, for himself, freedom of opinion, but virtually denies it to others, in becoming angry when they insist upon their own views of a contested question. An all important object of control is inclination. It blinds the judgment, and too often guides our most important decisions, leading to actions that end in consequences highly injurious to ourselves, and frequently to others. This must be ruled, or it will rule us to our cost. When we consider, that our very natures are perverted from good to evil, how can we expect, while these natures remain unchanged, that our inclinations can be other than evil? This fact should be brought right up before the mind, and considered attentively. No false notions of dignity of character, no blind self-esteem should prevent our seeing distinctly that the natural tendencies of our mind are not towards good. Correcting, thus, our wrong ideas, formed from superficial thought, let us learn to question closely our inclinations, where any important matter is concerned, and seriously to distrust them. If, upon a rational view of all the grounds upon which an action is contemplated, judgment should oppose inclination, there is but one right course, and that is, to decide in favor of judgment. It will require a powerful effort with some, but important considerations demand that the effort should be made. Let every young man decide, in moments of calm reflection, that he will firmly oppose the promptings of inclination, whenever a distinct perception, from reason, cannot be formed in their favor. Such a resolu tion, kept steadily in the mind, will soon become fixed as a principle, and be ever ready to act when aid is required. It is hardly requisite to urge the necessity or keeping evil passions and desires, under the most rigid control. They are the wild beasts of the mind, that, when roused, seek to debase and destroy it. The more they are indulged, the more powerful do they become; and the longer they are indulged the harder will it be to subdue them. Who is more to be commiserated, than a man who cannot resist his angry passions? And yet, there was a time when he was not their slave. When he could easily pass from under their brief dominion. But, by a gradual acces sion of power, from frequent indulgence, these evil passions continued to gain strength, until, at last, he was brought into a bondage from which it is almost impossible to escape. Slight causes only are required to raise a tempest, over the desolating influences of which he often mourns in vain. Whenever they are roused into activity, the better principles of his mind seem to retire, as if conscious that opposition would be vain, or as if fearful of extinguishment; and thus, without pilot or helm, the victim of evil passions is driven about until the storm, from having exhausted itself, subsides. In the calm that ensues, how painful must it be to note the marks of the tempest! Nor is he less to be pitied, who has allowed himself to indulge in evil desires, until he finds himself no longer able to resist their advances.— Who has delighted in sensual indulgences, until his mind has become brutalized in a degree, painful to contemplate. Once, he possessed the power of controling these evil affections, and suffered them but rarely to bring him into bondage. But, now, a passing thought will kindle up the slumbering fire within him. He is no longer a free man. to controvert them, and his friend maintains his own opinions. Instantly he is warmed up, and allows himself to throw out some harsh remark or personal allusion. After cooler moments have induced reflection, he sees his error; and in atonement for it, says, "Indeed you must look over my foolishness, I have no command over myself." One of the most serious subjects of reflection for a young man, is this of self-control. Every thing depends upon it. Its regular exercise will soon create a habit of submission to the dictates of reason. Its neglect will soon bring him into bondage to evil affections. Without a degree of self-control, there is little chance of success in the world, and no hope of freedom from internal { commotion and pain. It would be impossible to But what security has his friend, that he will point out all the varied and evil inclinations of not, before the next ten minutes expire, again the mind that require controling. But there is lose control of himself, and again outrage his no one who has not an internal consciousness of { feelings? The true answer, in all such cases some tendencies within him that his judgment { should be, does not approve, and who is not, at some time or other, led into acts under their impulse that leave behind them a degree of self-condemnation. It is but a poor compliment to a young man's strength of character for him to say, "I have no command over myself," and yet we hear this uttered almost every day, as a good excuse for conduct that outrages the ordinary courtesies of social intercourse. A man in conversing with a friend, hears sentiments uttered in direct opposition to others which he entertains; he endeavors "Then, my friend, it is time that you had learned to command yourself." This admonition, if urged with the utmost mildness, will, in general, produce a salutary effect. But it is needless to pursue this subject farther. Enough has been said to bring serious reflection to the mind of every young man, and to make him resolve to begin now, if he have not already commenced the task, to bring his own mind under the control of right principles. |