misery; knowledge and religion, happiness. Dr. Wayland's definition of human happiness is most excellent. "It consists in the gratification of our desires within the limits assigned to them by our Creator." Those, and those only, who act in accordance with the laws of virtue, by seeking knowledge, and by the limitation of their desires within the bounds of enlightened reason, can be happy. 8. It has been often said, and with much truth, that neither wealth nor fame afford substantial happiness. It is to be found only by living, as becomes "mortal and immortal beings." Feeble, indeed, is our hold upon this life. One by one, we are rapidly dropping into the grave. "If," therefore, as Álexander Hamilton expressed it, we would rescue any thing from final dissolution, we must lay it up in God.” As it is important that every dignified public body should regulate its proceedings by parliamentary practice, I insert the following Rules for the convenience of town, county, state, and national conventions, debating societies, teachers' institutes, young men's associations, etc. 1. The president, having taken the chair, shall preserve order and decorum, and shall decide all questions of order, subject to appeal to the house. 2. When the house shall be equally divided including the president's vote, the question shall be lost. 3. No motion shall be debated or put, unless it be seconded; when a motion is seconded it shall be stated by the president before debate, and every such motion shall be reduced to writing, if the president or any member desire it. 4. After a motion is stated by the president, it shall be deemed to be in the possession of the house, but may be withdrawn at any time before a decision or amendment. 5. Every member, previous to his speaking, shall rise from his seat and address himself to the president, and when he has finished shall sit down. 6. When two or more members rise at once, the president shall name the member who is first to speak. 7. No member shall speak more than twice to the same general question, without leave of the house; nor more than once in any case, until every member choosing to speak shall have spoken. 8. While a member is speaking, no member shall entertain any private discourse, or pass between him and the chair. 9. A member called to order shall immediately sit down, unless permitted to explain. 10. Every member who shall be present when a question is stated from the chair, shall vote thereon, unless he be excused by the house. 11. When a blank is to be filled, and different sums or times are proposed, the question shall first be put on the largest sum and longest tine. 12. Amendments may be made so as totally to alter the nature of the proposition. A new proposition may be engrafted, by way of amendment on the record, "Resolved," &c.-When an amendment is moved, the question shall first be taken upon such amendment, and a member who has spoken to the main question may speak again to the amendment. 13. No motion for reconsideration shall be in order, unless one of the majority shall move such reconsideration. 14. A motion to adjourn the house shall always be in order, and decided without debate. 15. A motion to lay a question on the table shall be decided without amendment or debate; or a motion to adjourn it to a day certain, until it is decided, shall preclude all amendment of the main question. 16. A member has not a right to read a paper in his place, if it be objected to, without leave of the house. A member has not a right even to read his own speech, committed to writing, without leave. 17. All committees shall be appointed by the chair, unless otherwise specially directed by the house, in which case they shall be appointed by ballot. 18. When any member stands up to speak, the president calls him by his name; but no person in speaking, is to mention a member then present by his name, but to describe him by his seat in the house, or who spoke last, or on the other side of the question. 19. It is a breach of order for the speaker to refuse to put a question which is in order. 20. It is a general rule that the question first moved and seconded shall be first put. For the Post Office law of 1845, see p. 267; and for the general form of a Contract between Trustees and Teachers, see p, 295. 123. EXTRACT FROM THE MOUNT HOPE DEDICATION ADDRESS. -Rev. Pharcellus Church, 1. Friends and fellow citizens: The rural and picturesque scenery with which we are surrounded, strikingly harmonizes to the object which has called us together. We have come to consecrate a home for the dead. Among these sequestered shades, the living tenants of our bustling city will soon find a repose, which has been denied them, amid the activities, the changes, and conflicts of Time's busy theatre; and the successors to their houses, occupations, and wealth, will come here to read on monumental marble, their forgotten names, and to enjoy an hour of sombre thought over their silent abodes. 2. Ay, the green lawns, the deep shades, the sighing breezes, and the forest warblers of this wild retreat, will soon claim the beauty, fashion, aspiring hopes, loves and friendships, bitter animosities, and all the earthly elements of our present social fabric. The very anticipation invests the whole scene with an awful air of solemnity. Mount Hope: "The shadow of departed hours Hangs dim upon thine early flowers; 3. The instincts of natural affection prompt us to a pious care of the dead. The tender attachments which spring up under the sunshine of our domestic habits and relations, intertwine around our hearts, like the vine around the oak, whose stateliness has lifted it to heaven; nor will they cease from their hold, even when their object, yielding to the blasts of disease, age or accident, lies cold and pallid, in the embrace of the grave. 4. Who can look upon a corpse as upon other clay? Or who can contemplate, without the deepest emotion, the relaxed features of that "human form divine," which he once pressed to his bosom, with the glow of generous love or with the warmth of. honorable friendship? It matters not, though worms claim it for their prey, and it will soon be dissolved to common dust; still, so long as it retains the impress of those organs, through which the qualities shone, that commanded our love or esteem, how can we withhold from it, the tokens of tender regard? Are not the heart's most virtuous promptings concerned, in our care of the dead? 5. And when the mortal remains are dissolved into their primeval elements, how does the place in which we left them to this mouldering process, become consecrated to our feelings and recollections? We approach it with reverence; our emotions yield to the rush of tender associations, and our eyes overflow with tears; the solemn hues of eternity tinge the whole scene, and we seem to "tread quite on the verge of heaven." If y t you have ever lost a friend, you know what it is to have the warmest feelings awakened towards a cold mass of clay. You have laid the hand of love on the marble brow, and imprinted the kiss of affection upon the blanched cheek; you have lingered among the graves as an enchanted spot, "While silently around it spread, 6. Oh, thoughts of religion and eternity are no exotics, but plants of indigenous growth in the grave yard. We come here, not merely to look upon the cold earth, nor the blooming lawn, nor the smooth surface of the pool, that mirrors the neighboring landscape, nor the more inspiring monuments, with their lettered memorials of buried generations, nor the wild flowers that skirt the grave, and grow on the margin of the still waters; but we come for the nobler purpose of com muning with a higher world: and to give scope to those tendencies within, which lead us up to immortality. It is a scene of high and awful import. 7. In selecting the places of repose for our departed friends, we contrive to give vent to the tender feelings which their loss has awakened. Beautiful groves in the neighborhood of pellucid streams, and the silvery expanse of the deep still lake, where the dove delights to utter her plaintive tones of love, and the cuckoo sings her mournful ditty; there, amid the bold elevations, gentle slopes, and profound valleys of broken surface, remote from the tumults of a contending world, affection and piety have ever been wont, to seek a place of rest, for the relics of the dead. 8. Nor are we less solicitous, in preparing the body for the grave. What a mournful care do we bestow on those silent remains, which never return a token of pleasure, to requite our toil! Not a look, nor pressure of the hand, nor single pulsation, responds to our expression of sympathy, and yet, what heart would restrain the emotions which prompt to these affectionate offices? Though we confer no pleasure, is it not a sweet relief, to our overburdened feelings, to perform them 9. No sooner does the breath cease to heave the lungs, than we close the eyes, as in sleep, compose the hands to rest upon the motionless bosom, oil and comb the hair; and then, instead of wrapping the body in worthless cloth, which would be equally satisfactory to the dead, we dress it in muslins of the purest white, deposite it in a coffin decently made, and with every mark of tenderness, we bear the precious relic to its last abode. And, as it sinks to its final resting place, the language of our hearts to the new-made grave, is, rest lightly, O earth, upon the bosom of my friend. 10. And when all is past, our friends are beyond our sight, and we, in the character of mourners are going about the streets, there is a melancholy pleasure in ornamenting the place of their burial, and preserving it from desecration. Who could witness without pain, the grave of a husband, a wife, a child, or a parent, trampled down and profaned? 11. At few points on the surface of the globe, has nature been more liberal, in its provision for giving scope to the principles in question, than in the neighborhood of our own city. When you stand on the summit of Mount Hope, how enchanting is the prospect! Before you lies the thronged city, with its spires and minarets, pointing to heaven. Far off beyond the city, the broad blue Ontario skirts the undefined distance, as if to remind you of the boundless fields of existence, which eternity will unfold, and to make you feel how few and meagre are the objects subjected to our present inspection, compared with those in the distance, which a future world will disclose. 12. How favorable are these hills and slopes for the construction of tombs! But it matters not whether our dead repose in a mean or honored locality, whether their names perish with the age in which they lived or survive in the enduring granite of the tomb, their dust will spring to life, at the voice of the archangel and the trump of God. His searching sur vey, penetrating even to the crude elements of nature, will single out the portion necessary to the reconstruction of the soul's original casement, and his power will consign it to im mortality. Till that eventful period, we dedicate this wild retreat to the repose of the dead. 13. Let this place henceforth be visited, to revive the mem ory of departed friends, and to anticipate the exalted scenes of eternity. Here, let the lover find a retreat of quiet weeping, over the untimely fate of his betrothed, and to deck her grave with flowers. Here, let the father erect his monument, to the memory of his noble son, who, from the threshold of a promising manhood, dropped into eternity. 14. Here, let the profligate son catch the inspirations of repentance and virtue, as he gazes on the last memorials of his pious parents. Here, let the daughter revive a mother's image and endearments, "While this place of weeping still Its lone memorial keeps, Whilst on her name 'midst woods and hills The quiet sunshine sleeps." 15. Here, let maternal love find a calm resort to awaken associations of its infant charge, and to dwell, with thankful |