MOOEE'S &B&&L EEW-YO&EE&. 



■!! 



stand still? No, bccau'e 

 hearted women 



best and most 

 /«• of thero are among the 



i U slowly changing, and women, 



or Hie right tbuo for the world's 



mially breaking away from tlio 



ranks of Fashion, and are beginning to Arm in 



accordance with tlieir own ideas or propriety. 



when alt ttntibU women will 



in their present style— a style 



n nod frivolous 

 II only follow because comptU'd to do so. 



Sisrr.u Fanmb. 



* Rural New Torker. 



NO HOME. 



The Urn burnt eherrllj up«o Uio hei 

 Hdlf "tin 11«>J«7 



. - flrc-DOMne-n< 

 ■ idnawwborwM'ei 



No peace, unquiet mult DO love— n 



Ho annul ifco> flitting o 



plclur'd walls. 



TOO FINE FOB USE. 





now OTOMprcad »iili Hi.' p. ill. i 



rowed dcopwilh Hie marls of cure and (oil. 



iliea ore broken up, bui.iue.sa or pleasure has 



tcn-il lliem up and down the earth, while u 



bare gone to (bur Bod bom 



bouse of the dead. Hut these are not all. 



torn-, liiii.il*. and pursuits have chauged also. The 



wooden latch, with the string always 



■ .. place (.1 the kilobaud 1, 





• the i 



right ..clock in the morning The dean, v, hit 



t!^i>. n blob iru ic i- <i u> ncm i> . .. i v dm i 



ing, is now covered by a carpet which brings 



mow) o( diupprobatloa every timo n foot dai 

 tread on [t, Tboold flro-plaee, with tho tutgvOTfl 

 attached, from irbti ill wc liavo seen so many pica 

 dragged forth, smoking hot, is now lorn down, or 



. i;j.Ij llllil *| ill,!., 



elfultic tread of thoso who once wore heavy, 



kni shoes has given place to hacking 



coughs in..) rrafet bottomed gaiters. The hum of 

 tin' pinnlng-whool, accompanied by tho clow, 



window as one passed through Hie country, during 

 tho summer month*, or early pnrt of autumn, It 

 now bulbed, and in it? place is beard the everlast- 

 ing thrum of tho pll.no, with rain attempts al 

 mimicking chickadees and cat-bird*. 



Wo lay no claim tou mml/ul |u..j.i n.ii v of u.n 

 shiping antiquities, but we do fail u>-.. ibi-i,,.,,- 

 Bis of exchanging health and happiness for what 

 are termed fashionable accomplish me aft and mod 

 ernimprovementa. Wn, of the preterit generation, 

 ore too apt to look upon tho past with a smile of 

 florision and stigmatise it as the age of bar ban si 

 m Hunk thai mankind were but a little above the 

 brutes till within a few years, forgetting, pcrhap: 

 that n* fur back as six thousand years ago ou 

 species were creuted but ono degree below tho 

 angels, aud that there has hecu virtuous! 

 bond, disinterested pati |pl i nn, heroic contempt of 

 danger and of death, open-handed hospitality, 

 guileless inuoccncc, aud affections stronger than 

 i ■ . the might] lejue ol ogee, that nan 

 ■ ... chaos, so far a« brilliant accomplish- 

 ment* are concerned. "Modern Improvement" 

 ought not lo laugh when he sees on aged man 

 paasing along the -In'..' in bis old fa -I mined buggy, 

 n Mli high I':--!, nn. I Inn m 



rbcci, for it was by pursuing the same course, and 

 at no very remote period either, that our ancestor* 

 wore enabled lo transmit to on whatever advan- 

 tage* we may enjoy. W******, 



EtaH, N. Y., Mnreb, 1SMJ. 



BENEVOLENCE Hi DRESS. 



• has pr 



a pretty good argu- 



hi. ..' .ii I ■■ ■■■ \: .i.^ble tkil 



■ !■■ ■' though! Certain!] it muil add to 

 luiiniiii happiness in enable the un- 

 (rraeeful nnd .1. imiii. .1 t.i ■.■.. that their defect! 

 arc concealed from observation; so, perhaps, it is, 

 after all, tho port of kindness to juit let this out 

 ■ itinue loval to 

 Fashion. 



But, then, how came so many women uu- 

 graeeful and ill-shaped? I won del i1 Iheac long 



-i b . 



We a 



s that a very large pro- 



as the result or their style of drew and habit uf 

 v. 

 ■ UJSnUj lo Inks ever, il 

 iii and nun sunlight! Because, if fashionably 

 ] aaanaf, with any degree of comfort, 

 1'iiept ou pleasant deya; and Own, wiih mere 

 ild experience 

 clothed tanaihlj. Many a poor, mis- 

 shapen child might have rejoiced in I 

 ■ mothoi rfi ...■' n, m , 



. we see •Con- 

 or sickly women, hav.ng BWOtlv 

 to drag about their long and enmbai 

 who realiic that the ■• reform dm, " i„ j, ls( wn> t 



Any need, but M thai (4«yhaTe not an RidrntrXM- 

 <atf* strength lo "race a frowning world," aud they 

 earnestly w»*h thai those women, who bare health 

 ■ad strength, 



reform dress 

 Would [t Ml ' I or a woman to 



ttrta and hoops from motive* of 

 ■ 

 nailer, out "i the km ;.. 



i inebriate a«>ium wt ' 

 making drunkards. 

 With Mn. "ScjimUM," I have no expectation 



52C 



Tut New Tork Times 

 lack of 



divelltngmif nuidern time 



the people who own them arc afraid to use 



i hem. The Colli >w nig purlui skenh i.i well drawn: 



fro stone frout, "above Ulcck- 



of a great 



I," and it bos tho air of a very nice old 



morning gown and curled papers— a cross 



iron precision and painful desolation.— 



Everything exists in a slate of bagginesa. The 



tog-»heet. The chairs arc put away in aprons and 



panlalellcv The chandelier wraps its night-gown 

 around tl The shutters are closed to keep from 

 fading the carpels, and only here and there, thro' 

 the crack*, a little bit of scared light peeps in and 

 looks around, in a tremulous ami sickly wot.— 

 Everything smells or brown Hullund, and cvery- 

 ilini- I.-1..1,.. us ii it considered you feat fully imper- 

 tinent Cor daring to come in nnd disturb its elegant 

 uselcssncss and brown linen repose. It is very 

 ing into a family vault after an epi- 

 dctnic, and having a live)/ time with a party of 

 b grave clothe*. In fact, you feel 

 dcei.ledlv like asking the mistress of the house why 



sin- <!... n' injlctc the picture by putting up the 



the parlors, nnd hanging up the 



(cck's wash. 

 Soberly, this si 



ui of door* for Ilia 

 *fiir too line to I 

 anee, and lies nttl 



-shop arrangement, which 

 e, aud drives father and sou 

 mfotl which their own house 

 d them, is n growing nui- 



e bottom of hnlftl 



• the fatigues < 



When a man comes 

 business he doesn't in 

 shop house. He doesn't want an invisible palace 

 but a visible home. He wants something made 1' 

 n. .ii and use, nnd allowed to bo used afierit:; kind 

 lie wonts chairi thai he can lean back in; and car 

 pets mode to be walked on ; and a house olive al 

 ovor; and a wife ami children whose daily though 

 is how it can all bo made happiest, cheeriest, mos 

 thoroughly comfortable for him. 



The thsdowo of tnr kmdre.l I 



I know tfeelr preaenae In 07 hea 



\Z7o„<,- 







iianlnaUUiBlrol 



en bri£hlneu, 



Anil -mi the golden sonllchl 1 





But lieautj greeU no more mr *] 





I mourn in .Inrkm-.. bj iftol 



em's grave. 







Bare fallen, aero and laded, (0 





'\'" 1 " 1 " 1 Id winds ntdelj 



rustle through them, 











Mj deadoned preaent — nml for 





No liope lo calm llitt null Ids lido 



of r«Ung- 



No refuge from my thoughts— no real— no homo ! 







The melody of Joy floats in the 











i oilers Uu-re. 



Tho' Pleasure, Wealth, and Glor 











My spirit murmurs " ye are all 



orgot" 



No hom, ' Ihq beacon light, so fo 



odly obcrlahed, 







And no falol ray shine, through' 



ic midnight blackness 









of Gilead 



Remains Tor me litis side tho dr 





I And no ark of safely from lemp 





No sleep from lorrow-GoD or 



Ueavenl no home. 



No homo I my soul beyond Hie d 



eaded waters. 



Is it not promised, even for thee 



n Hcavon *" 



Thjftleailng Heaven on earth 





8e«*«.Thy B |d'lhowayl»dar 



and ihornj- 



n.lpm.-'l ilm-fnidi l.wri'il, fuM 



amweanl- 







Haat|n J Bi l H.r„lSM. 



BonwA, 







flmmv Mn 



mssm. 



X ~j%m& 





■oaaaa^iii 



&S^i 



that n 



aod herot 



persons Ibey are, or, indeed, what sort of persons 

 they art off ihe pages of a book we can acarcelv 

 conjecture. Nor do we learn much or the author 

 except as a Mory- teller. No bints t 

 glimpses of iht 



■, draw attention 



MANAGEMENT OF CHILDREN- 



At. 1 juircnU, and olhers, baring (lie control and 

 management of children, should remember that it 

 is difficult to make a child really understand pre 

 cisely what is meant by truth and honesty. It is 

 not every departure from veracity in a child just 

 learning to speak, or every misappropriation of 

 properly into which it may slide, that should be 

 branded nub the opprobrious name of falsehood 

 or theft. The culprit may be clear of any bad in- 

 tention, and ignorant of any fault, although the 

 fact may be clearly proved. Caution, discriinina- 

 nndmuch kindness are, therefore, requisite in 

 correcting these eiident limits, while advantage 

 should be taken to inform the understanding and 

 nick, n the conscience, as lo the broad difference 

 Jtwoerj right and wrong. With thoso children 

 ho are the most sensible of this difference, and 

 n nli. .in the guilt of falsehood has been most 

 lii ink impressed, u frequent incentive to its com- 

 mittal is fear. An active nnd unlucky urchin 

 trifling accident, or perhaps per- 

 petrates some wanton mischief. Immediately Ins 

 little heart beats quickly with dread of the conse- 

 quences, lie knows that, if found out, be will be 

 put to bodily pain. This his nature shrinks from, 

 and he seeks means to ovoid it. If he tells a lie, 

 he may escape punishment, and ho accordingly 

 lad ! but whal else can be expected * 

 We do not look for the herouun of martyrs in our 

 children, and we ought not to look foril. Now all 

 lln> temptation nnd wrong doing could and should 

 be prevented. We would hove every parent lay 

 himself or herself, 

 crely to punkjh a child for a fault freely 



and frankly 

 fjQOD Si . 







rr.— It should be the 



: . good society. Wcdo 



eh, Ihe proud, and Ruhlonahle, but the society of 



intelligent, and the good. Where 



D lhat know more than yon do, nnd 



. ta ail rVSya sufo to be found. Il bos broke 



wn many n man by associating with the low and 



the ribald song was inculcated, and 



■ ry,toexcite laughter, andinfluenoe 



dona. Lord Clarendon has attributed 



ucccss and happiness in life to associating 



persons more learned nnd virtuous than him- 



11 T°n " if you desire 



happiness and not misery, we advise yon to asso- 



■1 Strive for 



lilul excellence, and strict integrity, and von 



Rmnd in the sinks of pollution, and 



the benches of retailers and gamblers. Once 



habituate yonrsclf to a virtuous course — once so- 



)• love of good society— and no punishment 



Id he greater than bv accident to be obliged, 



for half aday, to associate with the low and vulgar. 



produce amiability and happin 

 . i-t act together; ib.ym 

 partial judges, the gentle monitors, 

 iragcrs of each other; the/ a 

 each other; and wc on them. 



., the 1 



FICTION. 



Tuet whose acquaintance with work, or tho 

 imagination lias been confined to such productions 

 as The Three Spaniards, The Children of Thd 

 Abbey, The Mysteries of Udolpho, Itomancc of The 

 Forest, and other Itkedelineatiousof the terrible or 

 sentimental, and whose unfavorable judgment of 

 these samples has led them iuto wholesale denun- 

 ciation of fictitious narrative, have little idea of 

 what they condemn, when they thrust aside, its un- 

 worthy tlieir attentiou, what cultivated readers of 

 the present day accept as a first-class modern 

 novel. So deeply are the feelings of tho better 

 classes enlisted in favor of efforts for the 

 of the less fortunate, that any picture of present 

 society w hich lias not a strong color of philun thro j.v 

 — which is not presented with an evident design 

 help forward some humanitarian movement, or, 

 least, strike down obstacles that stand in the way 

 of reformation— seems to the thoughtful, facm 

 lent reader, frivolous and unprofitable, even 



sofa 



Tim-. 



tthc 



successful novels of our timo are not such 

 addressed solely or chiefly to the imagination 

 rather, those that by their more or less er 

 treatment of social evils, or by their keeu ridicule 

 or sad or stern reproof of the follies uud hypocri- 

 cies of mankind, apeak to the reason and conscience 

 of the reading public. Even the historical talc hat 

 lost ground immensely within these last years; 

 nnd, lo take a signal example, though the uovelsof 

 Sir Walter Scorr are universally admired a: 

 ductions of the past, there is reason to belicv 

 if these wonderful creations were to-day, lor the 

 first time, brought before the world as the I 

 work of a living author, they would meet with fur 

 less general favor than they now receive. For, 

 though the world i-. still willing to be entertained, 

 it has a feeling that the entertainment should beof 

 a different sort from what has until lately been 

 furnished, caterers may find suitable, if sad ma- 

 teriul in the present unhappy condition of the less 

 favored rlnssos, humanity calls especially upon 

 the novelist to portray before ihe eyes of the legis- 

 lator and the philanthropist the limitations, the 

 struggles, and the sufferings of her children ; and 

 could a writer of the present day, endowed with 

 the splendid gifts that the author of / sn 1 li and 

 possessed, tiimadcaf ear tosuchacry, 

 he w onld be in danger of experiencing 1 the modi- 

 fication of seeing bis ivoiks neglected as those of a 



cold, nnaympftthJiing spectator of the strivings 

 oud the miseries of bis fellow-men. 



Hut not alone in its choice of subjects does the 

 fictitious literature of to-day differ from the fash- 

 ionable novels of an earlier time. Formerly, the 

 plot was perhaps the distinguishing feature of a 

 story; aud the writer who contrived the most inge- 

 nious complication of incidents and brought it to 

 the most unexpected though satisfactory conclu- 

 sion, possessed one of the lirst, if nol the very first 

 qualilicatiou of a successful novelist. Such im- 

 portance being attached to the plot, aud it being 

 aim to concentrate so large a share of interest 

 is development, a greater number of chor- 

 es than the exigencies of the slory required 

 ild, of course, be burdensome ; while the in- 

 troduction of iuleresting matter, nol useful in un- 

 folding the scheme or adding intensity to the cir- 

 ■ancca, would tend to weaken the effect of the 

 ■land most skillfully worked plan. - 

 Accordingly, we find that in novels of I 



ihe characters arc generally few and the infor- 



looked to him 

 of subjects of 



from what, compared with Ihe 

 modern novels, may justly be termed the lArcad of 

 the narrative. Measured by the broad scenes and 

 the substantia! existences of a faithful hi. plolure, 

 the mere atory- teller's world is truly a atnge and 

 tho men and women only players. 

 As the taste of the present day requires the 



—to moke it in some sort nn expose of political, 



for him to present his characters in their relation 



to surioiinding institutions ; and this verv BBSOOiD- 

 Uon gives n certain color of life and reality to 

 them. Again, the fact that the interest is divided 

 bclween the fate uf the characters and the discus- 

 sion of a principle admits a great degree of care- 

 lessness in tho plot; indeed, we may say it allows 

 almost a total absence of plot. *fhis loose neas of 

 plot, in turn, admits the use of agreut number ami 

 variety of characters; besides affording an excel- 

 lent opportunity for the author lo introduce many 

 hints of the quality and culture of his mind in Ins 

 own person. And from this latter advantage 

 springs up another feature of the novel ; a feature 

 on which, in many cases, its chief inlerest and 

 depend. For, whether from a growing dts- 

 happiest thoughts iuto the 

 10 impossibility ol 

 so introducing them in a natural, unaffected man- 

 ner. 01 from sumo other cause, novelists are crowd- 

 ing more and more of their best material into the 

 parts of their work in which, as distinguished 

 from the strict narrative, they seem to speak di- 

 rectly to tho individual reader. Thus, we aro be- 

 ginning to have novels without a hero and novels, 

 without a denouement. Works of fiction, whethei 

 of the reform or sentimental school, can no longer 

 judged solely by the writer's skill in drawing 

 characters and developing his plot— their sue 

 s often depends in equal and, many times, i 

 icrior measure on the thought that is wove 

 the story— the clasaicajj poetical, mytbologi 

 and other allusions— the delicate fancy— the 

 quaint conceit— the wit— the humor— the 

 he pathos— nnd the numberless graces lb 

 er of varied powers introduces to make his work 

 lomclhing more than a bold narration of incidents 

 »r a fiery record of passion. Devourere of fiction 

 ■cad such book- witli bated Bpced. Lingering over 

 vhat may be called ils more accideulal beauties, 

 they forget the tedium of waiting till the end of a 

 long story to learn whal becomes of the characters 

 -they could even open the book at any page oud 

 ad with interest— just as, in real life, we make 

 quaintancewith people of all ages, wait, without 

 e least impatience, for tho principal event-, .if 

 cir after lives, and oh, how willingly wuit for 

 them to die! how much longer would gladly wait 

 an we are permitted, many times! Take, for 

 ample, Wilhelm Mntter; a work named by 

 3ETHE a novel; but, as Cahlvlb truly says, pos- 

 sessing aluii.-t nn romance -interest and having the 

 lightest imaginable plot ; yet, bow overwhelming 

 richness! The characters come before us in 

 themosl natural, matter-of-course Way, like figures 

 in n painting; and after helping to illustrate Ihe 

 genius and culture of the author, disappear from 

 sight with scarcely diminished numbers, as fami- 

 lies sometimes move out of a neighborhood, leav- 

 ing their dead behind them, and are never heard 

 of again. A . 



BASHFTJXNESS. 



Bashpixness is not such a common malady 

 among young people as it used to be when I was 

 young— a long time ago. But now and then one 

 meets a timid boy, or maiden, too shy and bashful 

 to take a moment's comfort anywhere. For such 

 I always feel the utmost sympathy, and let me ask 

 them, did you ever ask yourselves the reason, or 

 did anyone ever encourage you to feel otherwise'' 

 Nothing makes a young person appear lo better 

 advantage than a proper degree of reserve, and a 

 modest demeanor; but these arc not necessarily 

 associated with an awkward, blushing, stammer- 

 ing, trembling speech and gait. If you will get 

 rtd of the idea that every one is observing you, and 

 cultivate a sort of indifference to what every ono 

 may say or think, provided you do the best you 

 can, could you not then appear aud feel calm, cosy, 

 and be frank— willing to oblige, nnd not tremble, 

 lest you should not do and look according to any 

 particular mode? 



Suppose you are homely, or deformed, or over- 

 grown, all of which, or any of these, would be cal 

 culated to embarrass you ; but reflect, that you arc 

 just as nature made you— you ore just what you 

 are, and it will only enhance your trials to be shy 

 id fancy people ore noticing nnd 



WEEP NOT FOR THE DEAD. 



mhlyjova depart. 





r.iuclil by ii.Ju.lice ■ hand. 









every cllin* ami bind. 













...tr..rth..«.trmmpl ln «l.. ni 





ndenccN.T,,^, 





THE STUDY OF THE SCREPTUBES. 



I BATS often wondered why it is that the Biblo 

 is so little studied, even by those who profess to 

 beat the name of Cnnrsr. Aside from iU literary 

 and historical nttructioiis, there is so much to ad- 

 mire iu its adaptation to the wants of every indi- 

 vidual, so much to revere in ils justice and majesty, 

 so much to love in its mercy and simplicity, that 

 wo are at once constrained to acknowledge ite 

 authority, and lo make it " the man of our coun- 

 sel." Hut, for the believer, there is a more power- 

 ful inducement to the study of the Sacred Page. It 

 is bis Father's word, revealed by infinite luce, and 

 stamped with the unmistakable seal of Divinity. 

 Prodigal though he may have been, wicked and 

 unbelieving, yet that holy book bus held out to 

 him ev»ry inducement that a Father's love could 

 devise to procure his return. And when he did 

 return, and angels in Heaven rejoiced over his con- 

 version, how precious became lhat Heavenly Mes- 

 sage! How he delighted, at all limes, and under 

 all circumstances, to meditate upon it* If ho 

 doubted, it dispelled his fears ; if inclined to wan- 

 der, it warned him of bia danger; if in distress, it 

 comforted him; if sorely tempted, it promised 

 grace to overcome; ir cast down.it lifted up his 

 broken spirit; if bereaved, il whispered of re- 

 union; if rejoicing, every page was vocal with 

 prajse. And when Death has stood beside his 

 couch, and stretched out over him his shadowy 



1, it has brought support and comfort, and 



us triumph over the 1. 1st enemy. 



t is this adaptation to our every need, which 

 makes the Bible so precious to us, in our earthly 



mage. It is our comfort in affliction, our 

 strong-bold in the hour of conflict, and our song 

 rejoicing in tho day of victory. 



commenting ou your appearance. But every such 

 son, bos peculiar reasons, owing 

 why they suffer from timidity. 

 Deed a kind friend to reason with 

 them, and raise their self-esteem, by show int* them 

 ieir advantages, or by encouraging them in some 

 ay, instead of being left to struggle, as many are, 

 itil time and a knowledge of the world may in a 

 ensure give them self-possession. 

 ' kkc courage, you sad, fearful, shrink- 



g ones. The world is wide enough for us all, and 

 there is a place for you— perchance high one, if 





a for il 



\\ ill ■. 



1 try! 



A 1'iui-M.. 



Pal ceres and bticb are spok- 



of "hindrances to grace," may be hindrances, 



but they ore the only helps it bos in this world.— 



is the voice of God calling 



Ricqes oy tub Bible.—" Book of books " is tho 



iblc. It is u book of laws, shows the right and 



rong. ft is a book of wisdom, that makes tho 



foolish wise. It is a book of truth, which detaobi 



■rors. It is a book of life, which shows 



id everlasting death. It is the most 



authentic and entertaining history ever published. 



mote nnliqinlo , the moot 



remarkable events und wonderful occurrences. It 



pletc code of luws. It is a perfect body of 



divinity. It is an unequuted narrutivo. It is a 



00k of biography. It is a book of voyages. It is 



hook of travels. It is the best covenant ever 



made, the best deed ever written ; it is tho best 



cut executed, the best testament ever signed; 



tho young man's best companion; it is the 



schoolboy's best instructor, it is the learned man's 



masterpiece; il is the ignorant nun's dictionary, 



s dictionary; it promises an eternal 



reward to the faithful end believing. But that 



which crowns oil is the Author. He is without 



partiality aud without hypocrisy; "with whom 



there is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." 



I.cm(sim; and Wisnow,-- The lOSfSod 1, -.,., | 

 only useful to the learned ; the wise man is equally 

 useful to the wise and the simple. The merely 

 learned man has not elevated his mind above that 

 of others ; his jndgments aro not more penetrating, 





marks no 

 dutiful than those of others. It is 

 t with the wise man; be moves fur 

 .mou level, he observes everything I 

 I point oi view; in his cmploymcola 



J 



all with him is oho 

 BMUtr. 



imagine that, now 



a different way from what they did at first; 

 attention to themselves, ibcir 

 experiences, und their groces. For- 



Hft+ffii 



