The Clark girls do not, as yet, coalesce in their system of improvement. They still prefer making netting and dresses, to the lecture-room, the improvement circle, and even to the reading of the "Book of books." So difficult is it to turn from the worship of Plutus!
The delusion of Bertha and Charlotte is partially broken. Bertha is beginning to understand that much reading does not naturally result in intellectual or moral improvement, unless it be well regulated. Charlotte is learning that "to enjoy is to obey;" and that to pamper her own animal appetites, while her father and mother are suffering for want of the necessaries of life, is not in obedience to Divine command.
And, dear sisters, how is it with each one of us? How do we spend our leisure hours? Now, "in the stilly hour of night," let us pause, and give our consciences time to render faithful answers.
D.
THE TOMB OF WASHINGTON.
"He sleeps there in the midst of the very simplicities of Nature."
There let him sleep, in Nature's arms,
Her well-beloved, her chosen child—
There 'mid the living, quiet charms
Of that sequestered wild.
He would have chosen such a spot,
'Twas fit that they should lay him there,
Away from all the haunts of care;
The world disturbs him not.—
He sleeps full sweet in his retreat—
The place is consecrated ground,
It is not meet unhallowed feet
Should tread that sacred mound.
He lies in pomp—not of display—
No useless trappings grace his bier,
Nor idle words—they may not say
What treasures cluster here.
The pomp of nature, wild and free,
Adorns our hero's lowly bed,
And gently bends above his head
The weeping laurel tree.
In glory's day he shunned display,
And ye may not bedeck him now,
But Nature may, in her own way,
Hang garlands round his brow.
He lies in pomp—not sculptured stone,
Nor chiseled marble—vain pretence—
The glory of his deeds alone
Is his magnificence.
His country's love the meed he won,
He bore it with him down to death,
Unsullied e'en by slander's breath—
His country's sire and son.
Her hopes and fears, her smiles and tears,
Were each his own.—He gave his land
His earliest cares, his choicest years,
And led her conquering band.