Napoleon comes in quest of fame and power,
He scans the mounts that high above him tower.
Though "barely possible," he will " advance,"
And in Italia plant the flag of France;

In vain the mountain, like a dreadful ghost,
Rises to frighten the advancing host.

O'er towering cliff and yawning gulf he speeds,
He means to pass, nor aught of danger heeds;
He scales the summit with his conquering train
And like the vulture swoops upon the plain.

HERE the Alps lift up their snow-capped heads in awful sublimity; their icy pinnacles tower above the clouds; their colossal forms arise, mountain on mountain piled. To all save the bounding chamois or his intrepid pursuer, they appear inaccessible; here vast overhanging precipices threaten destruction, and there the treacherous abyss lies concealed, ready to ingulf the unwary traveller. Winter reings supreme upon his throne of desolation; eternal tempests increase the horror of the scene. In vain does the famished traveller search for some stunted lichen, or the smallest animal, to save him from approaching death; he sees nothing but boundless seas of ice-no signs of life are there-it seems the very tomb of nature; the solemn solitude is broken only by the roar of the tempest or the thunder of the avalanche.

Yet over all these obstacles Napoleon would advance; he inquires of the engineer Marescot, who had just explored the wild passes of the St. Bernard, if it is possible to pass." Barely possible," answers the officer. "Very well," says Napoleon, en avant," advance," and at the head of his army of above 30,000 men, with their arms, horses, and artillery, he commences the arduous passage. The mountains seem to bid defiance to the utmost efforts of the martial host; but dangers and difficulties deter him not; like the gale that wafts the vessel sooner into port, they only urge him on towards the object of his ambition; he conducts the army over slippery glaciers, wide yawning ravines, and eternal snows; he braves the fury of the tempest, and the crash of the avalanche-and overcoming every obstacle, he swoops upon Italy like the Alpine eagle upon his prey.

In the conduct of Napoleon in this instance we have a striking example of decision and perseverance. If we can "out of the eater bring forth meat," and can from the strong bring forth sweetness," it will be well.

The importance of possessing a decided character is best seen in its results, as the value of a tree is best known by its fruits; by its aid Napoleon accomplished the objects of his ambition-fame, and wealth, and glory, and power. With it, a man attains that which he sets his heart upon; without it, he becomes easily discouraged and fails. With it, he controls his own movements, and influences also the conduct of others; without it, he loses his own individuality, and becomes a creature of circumstances. In fine, a man without decision, is like a rudderless vessel, tossed upon an uncertain sea; while the decided character, like the genius of the storm, commands the winds and the waves, and they obey him.

The importance of decision being so apparent, it becomes an interesting inquiry, "How can it be obtained?" After a proper object of pursuit is selected, it seems essential that a fuller knowledge of the object should be secured; no pains ought to be spared in order to obtain a perfect knowledge of the object or profession, in all its parts; this is necessary to the foundation of such a character. The traveller who knows his way walks with a firm step, while he that is in doubt about his path advances with hesitation.

Another thing deemed essential, is Confidence in the object of our choice, that it will yield us satisfaction, then possessing a knowledge of our route, and a belief that at the end of our journey we shall be at home, the things that discourage others have no influence at all upon us. So it is with the decided character, in the path he has chosen. Does opposition present itself? he assumes the attitude of a gladiator, determined to conquer or die. Does danger appear, as it did to Shadrach and his companions, when the burning fiery furnace stood in their path? he burns the more ardently to fulfil his mission. Is he ridiculed, as were the builders of the walls of Jerusalem? he heeds it not, he still goes forward. Finally, does he find himself forsaken ? it throws him on his own resources, it makes him firmer in his purpose, as the tree that stands alone and braves the storm strikes deeper its roots into the ground. If engaged in a good cause, he is, like Milton's Abdiel,

"Faithful found

Among the faithless, faithful only he
Among iunumerable false, unmoved,
Unbroken, unseduced, unterrified,

His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal.

Nor number, nor example, with him wrought
To swerve from truth or change his constant mind
Though single."

In the case of Napoleon the above points were exemplified; he selected, as the object of his choice, military warfare-he made himself acquainted with every thing belonging to it as a science. He had confidence in it, as a means of procuring him the highest objects of his ambition; hence his devotion to it-hence his perseverance; dangers and difficulties are seized as allies-he rises with the storm, and "barely possible" is to him an assurance of success.

To the Christian soldier, decision is of the highest importance; he has selected the Christian warfare as a means of procuring to him, "Glory Honour, and Immortality." "If the righteous are scarcely saved," it behoves him to know what belongs to "his calling." He needs a knowledge of himself, of his duties, and of his privileges; a knowledge of the way, its dangers and its difficulties; a knowledge of his enemies, their methods, and their power; a knowledge of his A'mighty leader, of His Spirit, and of His word. He needs a living, practical faith, in religion, that it will secure to him "Eternal Life.' Opposition, danger, and death, may stare him in the face, but if decided, he will say, "None of these things move me," "My heart is fixed, I will sing and give praise;" and having fought the good fight of faith, he will be enrolled among those who persevere to the end, and are saved :"Faith, mighty faith, the promise sees and looks to that alone, Laughs at impossibilities and cries, "It shall be done!'"

Decision of character may, however, belong to very different individuals; to the bad as well as the good, to Satan as well as to Abdiel. We may, like Enoch, set ourselves' to walk with God; or be like the wicked whose "heart is fully set in them to do evil.' We may say with pious Joshua, "Choose you this day who ye will serve, but as for me and my house we will serve the Lord;,, or with ambitious Pizarro, we may draw the line with the sword and say, "On this side lies poverty and Panama, on that, Peru and gold; as for me and the brave, we will cross the line." With the martyr Paul, we may exclain, "I go to Jerusalem, though bonds and afflictions await me there." Or with the patriot Pompey "It is necessary for me to be at Rome, though it is not necessary for me to live."

The following anecdotes related by Foster, exhibit striking examples of decision and perseverance :

"An estimable old man, being on a jury in a trial of life and

death was completely satisfied of the innocence of the prisoner; the other eleven were of the opposite opinion, but he was resolved the man should not be condemned. As the first effort for preventing it, he made application to the minds of his associates, but he found he made no impression; he then calmly told them that he would sooner die of famine than release them at the expense of the prisoner's life. The result was a verdict of acquittal." What follows is a less worthy instance:

'A young man having wasted, in two or three years, a large fortune, was reduced to absolute want. He went out, one day, with the intention of putting an end to his life; wandering along he came to a brow of an eminence that overlooked what were once his own estates; here he sat down and remained fixed in thought some hours. At length he sprang up with a vehement exulting emotion-he had formed the resolution that all these estates should be his own again; he had formed his plan also, which he began immediately to execute; he walked forward determined to seize the very first opportunity to gain money, and resolved not to spend a cent of it, if he could help it. The first thing was a heap of coals shot before a house; he offered to wheel them into their place he received a few pence for his labour; he then asked for something to eat, which was given him. In this way he proceeded, always turning his gains to some advantage, till in the end he more than realized his lost possessions, and died a miser, worth more than a quarter of a million of dollars."