A saintly Voice fell on my ear,
Out of the dewy atmosphere:—
"O hush, dear Bird of Night, be mute,—
Be still, O throbbing heart and lute!"
The Night-Bird shook the sparkling dew
Upon me as he ruffed and flew:
My heart was still, almost as soon,
My lute as silent as the moon:
I hushed my heart, and held my breath,
And would have died the death of death,
To hear—but just once more—to hear
That Voice within the atmosphere.
Again The Voice fell on my ear,
Out of the dewy atmosphere!—
The same words, but half heard at first,—
I listened with a quenchless thirst;
And drank as of that heavenly balm,
The Silence that succeeds a psalm:
My soul to ecstasy was stirred:—
It was a Voice that I had heard
A thousand blissful times before;
But deemed that I should hear no more
Till I should have a spirit's ear,
And breathe another atmosphere!
Then there was Silence in my ear,
And Silence in the atmosphere,
And silent moonshine on the mart,
And Peace and Silence in my heart:
But suddenly a dark Doubt said,
"The fancy of a fevered head!"
A wild, quick whirlwind of desire
Then wrapt me as in folds of fire.
I ran the strange words o'er and o'er,
And listened breathlessly once more:
And lo, the third time I did hear
The same words in the atmosphere!
They fell and died upon my ear,
As dew dies on the atmosphere;
And then an intense yearning thrilled
My Soul, that all might be fulfilled:
"Where art thou, Blessed Spirit, where?—
Whose Voice is dew upon the air!"
I looked, around me, and above,
And cried aloud: "Where art thou, Love?
O let me see thy living eye,
And clasp thy living hand, or die!"—
Again upon the atmosphere
The self-same words fell: "I Am Here."
"Here? Thou art here, Love!"—"I Am Here."
The echo died upon my ear!
I looked around me—everywhere,—
But ah! there was no mortal there!
The moonlight was upon the mart,
And awe and wonder in my heart.
I saw no form!—I only felt
Heaven's Peace upon me as I knelt,
And knew a Soul Beatified
Was at that moment by my side:—
And there was Silence in my ear,
And Silence in the atmosphere!
LIFE ASSURANCE.
One of the subjects which for some time has commanded the public attention is that of Life Assurance: the means by which a man may, through a moderate annual expenditure, make provision for his family when death shall have deprived them of his protection.
The number of companies organized for this purpose, their annual increase, the assiduity with which their agents press their respective claims, the books, pamphlets, and circulars which are disseminated, and the large space occupied by their announcements in the issues of the press, all unite in creating a spirit of inquiry on this interesting subject. We propose in this article to submit a few statements, the collection of which has been greatly furthered by recourse to the treatises of Babbage, Park, Duer, Ellis, Angell, Bunyon, Blayney, and other writers on insurance.
In the early history of insurance, objection was continually made that it was of the nature of a wager, and consequently not only unlawful, but contra bonos mores; yet the courts of law in England from the first drew a distinction between a wager and a contract founded on the principle of indemnity, which principle runs through and underlies the whole subject of insurance. Lord Mansfield denominated insurance "a contract upon speculation," and it has universally been considered as a contract of indemnity against loss or damage arising from some uncertain and future events.