83*3 



MOOSE'S &Tl?HJlL MEW-YOHEEH. 





THE 



DEAR LITTLE GIRL IS 



DEAD. 





A i-.ttlf . 



Dffll 



mil 

















I am.>l.>..? 









It brightened ail Hi 









Alas, tbe 



J-'"' 1 "" ''"'' 

 The littles 



,_ 



""'• 





Two mil 



as lightly iu 



'iJ". 



mm c °r™.Tu 





Upon 



,e grata plo 











iojojnrro. 



Chr 



benight! 





Buftt 











To boo 





r hrltrhl h«n 











i her beriming a 







Look upwa 



Uln 



benight! 







oT^rthl 



'.!.!' 



Is still ! 





» or su 



.urnV^.'fr." 



Uogd 





^" d ; ald - 



a i,.i beai 













Hearken w 



cnal 



Is still 1 







Hencefe-rtli 



;;.'„"" 



1217ZI 





will be loose cods 

 Bashes between its i i 



,U,,l.|l- 



-I might t 



last lines of a quire of paper, but I ha' 

 to ibinlc of all your needs for you. I 

 tbe will to be as nearly perfect in you 

 life oa yon may be, J 



. little c 



There ere few among young house keepers who 

 have not tbe first requisite,— ambition,— yet there 

 are many who have not the right kind. It is not 

 },<w much you can do alone, but bow much you 

 can do well. I don't liko to see young people 

 lazily moderate in motion, but to my mind there is 

 such a thing as "going on the jump" too much. 

 It is destructive to shoe-leather at the least, and 

 in the end you seldom accomplish more; for it is 

 an old, a tried, and a proved saying, that "baste 

 makes waste." Guard against a habit of saying, 

 in reference to your work, or habits of doing it, 

 "it would have been better, but I couldn't spent 

 time." Time is used to tbe very best advantage 

 in doing work thoroughly and well. 



As to calculation, you all ought to know what it 

 means, for economy can't live without it. There 

 are a thousand litllo ways in which you car 

 for convenience and comfort as well as saving, if 

 you try. To prove it, never consign an article 

 the garret, or food to tbe pig-trough, until you have 

 thought in rain of n way to make it useful. 



But you must think for yourselves, I say sga: 

 Tbe secret of all success lies in this, yet how fi 

 think it applicable or necessary in jutt keept 

 jute' Try it,— sit down to the task; for it w 

 ) one if you arc not used to it, and if you do n 

 id it the best oil ever applied to domestic 

 achinery, you may doubt the word of 



a rn.iT \YiTn tiiiwu iioi se-keepeks. 



stepping, in imagination, (a 

 steam,) into tbe sitting-roon 

 Lucys, and Jen-nibs, and An 

 taken upon yourselvc 



rifter way than by 

 or kitchens of you 



■s of " love, hon 



and obedience." I settle myself, — as though I 

 were an aunt that you had kuowu all your lives, — 

 for a comfortable and cosy chat. 



I am neither a prying " old maid," nor a med- 

 dling matron, however,— that I must give you to 

 understand at once, or lose entirely the hearing 

 sense of my auditors, — for tbe days of my youth 

 lie not so far in tbe past that I have forgotten 

 how peculiar and incurable is the spite which 

 beginners in the art of "managing" have against 

 these neighborhood nuisances. I know nothing of 

 city ways or life, so I speak only to you who are 

 rural 1st f, — who, having taken upon yourselves 

 new responsibilities, are earnest to do for the best, 

 and make the most of your bepfnninf. 



First of all,— attacking the enemy at the most 

 formidable point,— please don't say to yourselves 

 "I guess I know enough to keep home without 

 going to other folks for assistance." Perhaps 

 you do,— it may be that you have grown up under 

 the eye of a mother whom you were willing to 

 leorn of, — yet, again, it may not be, and perhaps 

 something of the experience of one wbo has kept 

 "eyes and ears open" as to the ways of doing, and 

 the ways of leaving undone, may be of benefit in 

 either case. I take it for granted that you have 

 carried into your new sphere something of the 

 romance of girlhood, for only the rial cares, per- 

 plexities and sorrows of life can entirely uproot 

 t ihey have not yet fallen to 





Bui 



have you room in your hearts also for thoughts of 

 the duties it imposes; for reflections that should 

 you take the wrong path at the beginning, a few 

 years will bring you into a maze of perplexities 

 and pains where you hoped to find your Eden, — a 

 maze from which you will find that only the clue 

 of Love can lead you, and that only through stern 

 endeavor? 



You must think of this, not only after but 

 before you are bound by ties that nothing but 

 death can sever, for it is no light thing to take into 

 your keeping tbe happiness and well-being ot a 

 heart — perhaps tbe destiny of a soul. 



You must have ambition, — not tbe article that 

 bears the name, when it should be labeled ava- 

 rice,— but amhitinn to do right, to he useful, to do 

 all that woman can do for the happiness of others, 

 — to be a thorough, practical keeper of the house 



You must have pridt,— not tbe pride that carries 

 n high head in contrast with modesty, but pride in 

 doing well whatover you find to do,— prido that 

 will not let others do for you what you can and 

 ought to do yourself. 



You must have calculation, — not the counting of 

 dollars and cents alone, though this is necessary 

 knowledge; but a quick and true perception of 



*0f t 





you hold, and n head clear enough to adapt your 

 needs to your means. 



You must have onto, If the " bump " is not on 

 your cranium, perhaps you may think that you 



are not accountable for leaving your bread-loaf in 

 one pan, tbe slices cut from it in another, and both 

 a temptation to flies, — for hanging or dropping 

 your dish-cloth where half an hour of hunting 

 wi not hud it, or for having half your chairs in 



?" ".?*'* » tU ° r00m • th ° toble Bt "BUt-aiS'e" 

 ne corner, and the curtains with 

 I nearly at tbe top, and the other 



a happy home, 

 u,j «,.« „ .„.. JOU raite auch b b 



mg your head in contact with th^netth ni h 

 stance that you meet ; for, though' I Helena Tno 

 knowledge of Phrenology, I bavo an ^ ^ 

 -* '3 order, and wllon tho latter is 



to be a good housekeeper 



not fully developed, tbe former has n 

 much development, — r 

 ground adjoining. 



. have pat, 



the 



I her 



THE LITTLE HAND. 



Tire little hand! bless it, how confidingly it is 

 placed with our own. It trusts in its helplessness 

 and weakness for guidance. Every nerve rests 

 tranquilly, as its tiny fingers are encircled by a 

 firm and loving grasp. Watch the footsteps of the 

 little one as he ranges the lawn, and with bis little 

 hand be gathers tbe purple violets, and with child- 

 ish glee be strews them around. His dark eyes 

 look up roguishly as he runs laughingly on saying, 

 " Catch me if you can." 



How lovingly the little hand entwines its tiny 

 finger* among your curls, or clasping them at your 

 knee, lisps out an infant's prayer that speaks peaco 

 to tbe troubled heart as if an angel's voice had 

 whispered it from heaven. Beautiful childhood! 

 would it could be always shielded from harshness, 

 from corroding care, and corrupt influence. Look 

 at little hands stretched out for help from a harsh 

 father, or an intemperate mother. There are five 

 little ones, the eldest not more than seven, with 

 large dnrk eyes and curling hair. She atands in 



molest or make her afraid. She has been taken 

 away from the dark fate that awaited her child- 

 hood's home, and the beautiful boy that she points 

 out as her brother, that unnatural mother had 

 placed a rope around his neck to strangle him, hut 

 was discovered and arrested in her dark design, 

 in time to save his life. There he is, not four years 

 old, with a doll in hand, and be looks up, his 

 face radiant with smiles, as be replies to our simple 

 question of " are you fond of dolls '<" He has large 

 dark eyes, and a noble bead; we could predict a 

 splendid career for him in the future, if rightly 

 guided. 



Little bands are ull around us, seeking for guid' 

 ance, relying upon tbe protecting id flueuce of those 

 older than themselves. Would that we kept onr- 

 selves pure, so that we could perform our duty 

 faithfully and well. That nature must be hardened 

 indeed that can see a tear drop fall from the eyes 

 of childhood, or tho little hand stretched out in 



Wbo cannot recall to mind little hands they 

 have caressed and tenderly cared for, that have 

 now passed on to the spirit land? Our darlings 

 were laid to rest in their narrow house, their little 

 hands filled with white rose buds, the lust of sum- 

 mer's offering. Though now all unseen to our 

 mortal gaze, their aogel hands are still invisible 

 ministers of love, drawing us to tbem in thoir 

 beautiful home. Cherish, then, the little bund,. ind 

 guard and guide it while you may, for it is an 

 angel in your household. You know not how soon 

 their wiDgs will unfold and soar upward and on- 

 ward into the world of love and light, leaving you 

 in your anguish to mourn and lament over their 

 brief stay, Blessed memories of the little hands 

 that have clung to you in their simple, cbild-like 

 faith and trust. Oh ! may those memories never 

 be laden with harshness or unkindueBS, "for of 

 such is tho Kingdom of Heaven."— Mothers' May. 





A MAGAZINE OF THE LAST CENTURl. 



Looking over a collection of ohl volumes, the 

 other day, I found a magazine printed in London, 

 in 1777, — a volume which, I doubt not, my great- 

 grand-mother read, many long years ago, with as 

 great pleasure as in these modern days her un- 

 worthy descemhuiu peruse the pages of tho Atlan- 

 tic, or coiumna of the weekly newspaper. Each 

 No. contains about fifty pages of reading matter, 

 and romance, fashions, family government, medi- 

 cine, philosophy, French tales, poetry and music, 

 afford a sujh'cUnt if not afflict quantity of reading 

 material. The volume is embellished by a variety 

 of wonderful copper-plate engravings. The first 

 of these represents a lady of rank seated before 

 her mirror, while her maid, who stands behind her, 

 is performing the difficult task of hair-dressing. — 

 A large number of hn$r pins, with ornamental 



tof c 



nth a 



large pufT above her brow. Her robe is trimned 

 with an immense quantity of ruflles and flounces, 

 which would make one groan, even to think of 

 making. Her father, her lover, and a page, are 

 all present, watching, with evident interest, the 

 structure which is being reared. Tbe page plays 

 the guitar, the lover assists the maid by passing 

 the hair pins, and the father, seated near, with hi 

 band raised and a smile of pleased surprise on hi 

 countenance, admires her beauty. 



In another No. is a charming representation of 

 lady's headdress, ".I lit Zo,li<i,juc." Near eac 

 ear are five curls of various dimensions, the n 

 uiainder of the hair being combed over an in 

 mensc cushion at the back of the head. Thi 

 cushion is several times larger than the head, and 

 in the form of a hemisphere. Aro 

 band upon which the signs of the ?. 

 broidered in gold and silver, jewels representing 



which eighty years hath v 



-a country beyond 

 present or prospecti 



Mas. J. w. Wili 



PEOSE POETRY. 



Tna poet-editor of the Chicago Journal, B. F, 

 Tatlor, Esq., gives the following beautiful des- 

 cription of the Northern Lights, that were so bril- 

 liantly displayed recently: 



The Northern Lights.— If we could always get 

 change for that noble word-coin, " Aurora," and 

 think of avrra hora— the golden hour— we should 

 like "Aurora Borealis" better; — the northern 

 golden hour, the northern morning. And a 

 en hour it was on Sunday evening last, when 

 sands of eyes brightened in the colored lights that 

 shone through God's painted window in the north 

 Its only parallel withio our remembrance wa; 

 eight years ago, when we penned a little deserip 

 lion that ia as fanciful as was the display. How i 

 seemed to us was wrapped up in a rhyme for con 

 venient transportation; and here is the whole of 



Unl 



e light oi 





after this - 



so part of the description cape 

 e; Last night, the moon, in a r. 

 coat of silver, rode high in tbe west, while in 

 north and north-east, pure, pearly white, overl 

 the blue— then deepened to an orange— then tu 

 ed to a crimson ; until it looked like a pillar of 

 in tho wilderness, or a daguerreotype of annuel 

 Anon it changed ; the crimson was pink ; the blue, 

 a blush ; and tbe pearl a delicate green. 

 What they wore doing up aloft, is mc 







of "Tomorrow," or 

 upper decks to di 

 ow and then, whi 



lifted from the northe 



r to-be-performed dm 

 spreading out rainbows 

 r, is a mystery. 

 e, silvery looking spars w 



they wei 



.- repairing I 



e spars 



linings of the curta 

 keep them out of tho way of the aerial craftsmen. 

 hen again, as it crimsoned, and pearled, and 

 clouded so exquisitely, we fancied it might be Hi 

 i'a grand pattern for sea shells to tint by, 

 ivered at last. 



And once more, such a beam, nay, cloud of 



light, streamed out into the night, and over 



i, that wo would be sure it must come fi 



ren's painted window 



perhaps somebody that w 



passing to and fro, giving us, without the 

 walls, a glimpse or two of the glory within, 

 wbo knew that it might not be tbe evening of 

 r«otten and long past yesterday, thus "re 

 g the glimpses of the moon,"— one that you and 

 e liu'e-l, and have s 



uids 







leftc 



a half n 



1 10 



i surface, 



we wonder that a 



considered one ot 



FniESDSuir,— We know that cartbly affection is 

 deepened and intensified by increased familiarity 

 with its object. The friendship of yesterday is not 

 the sacred, hallowed thing, which years of grow- 

 ing intercourse have matured. If we may with 

 reverence apply this test to the highest type of 

 holy affection, (that love which dwelt iu the bo3om 

 of the Father from all eternity towards his Son,) I 

 what must have been that interchange of love 

 which the measureless lapse of eternity had fos- 

 tered — a love, moreover, not fitful, transient, 

 vacillating, subject to altered tones and estranged 

 looks— but pure, constant, untainted without one 

 shadow of turning ! And yet, listen to the words 

 of Jesus, "As the Father bath loved me, so have I 

 loved youT' It would have been infinitely more 

 han we had reason to expect, if He had said, " As 

 oy Father hath loved Angels, ho have I loved 

 ...u." But the love borne to no finite being is an 

 ppropriate symbol. 



Time wears slippers of list, and hia tread is 

 oiseless. The days come softly dawning, one af- 

 er another; they creep in at the windows; their 

 fresh morning air is grateful to the lips that part 

 " '" | their music is sweet to the ears that listen 

 until, before we know it, a whole life of days 

 has possession of the citadel, and time has taken 



ury ago hair-dressing tl 



LvsiOAS and Elfrida illustrate a pastoral tale. 

 Sheep and cows, the most distant of which, in vio- 

 of all perspective, are as large as those 

 the foreground, walk with great com- 



y find themselves in very small valleys and bt 

 d very singular trees. Four pages of " poet: 

 essays" are inserted in each No., in most c 

 which some rustic swain, bewailing his lot 

 threatens to retire from public life aud take up his 

 ode in some lonely cave. 



In the "Foreign News" tbe speedy surrender of 

 e rebel army is prophesied, and the 

 the English troops and the humanity of General 

 ;, spoken of in the highest terms of praise, 

 lost amusing thing, however, is an accou 

 of " the trial of Mr. Hohne for a libel." The first 

 charge is that an advertisement has been inserted 

 n the Public Advertiser, " purporting to be anac- 

 :ount of the Constitutional Society having met on 

 .he 7th of June, and agreed that the sum of £100 

 should be raised, to be applied to the relieT of the 

 widows, orphans, and aged parents of our beloved 

 fellow subjects, who, faithful to the 

 of Englishmen, perferring death to 

 slavery, were for that riaton only inhumanly mwr- 

 dered by the King's troop* near Lexington, or Con- 

 cord." This was signed by John Horse, and for 

 this offense, after a long, and what now seems a 

 very amusing trial, be was sentenced to pay a fine 

 of £200, to be imprisoned twelve mouths, and at 

 the expiration of that time to give security lor bis 



A magazine of the last century I There flits be- 

 fore my mental vision scenes of those good old 

 English days — lords and ladies, ond more com- 

 mon folk clad in garments to the fashion of which 

 the nineteenth century ia a stranger — groups of 

 eager listeners gathered around tbe " keeping- 

 room " fire to hear news of the war — fathers with 

 listening ears, and mothers with anxious counten- 

 ances — tbe one eager to hear of a son's bravery— 

 the other anxious lest the news should be of defeat 

 and death. A Qa tben there rises a far off view of 

 a distant land — a land thought by mony a sturdy 

 Englishman to be fit only for the dwelling place of 



looked, it changed, and the heaven, from 

 far below the "dipper" to the zenith, was aflut- 

 Through the silver lace-work shone the stars, 

 and the blue and the galaxy itself. What could, if 

 be, but tbe dim scarfs of the loved and lost, thus 

 waved in token of remembrance to the earth be- 

 neath? And why not? How beautiful and how 

 calm lay that earth beneath the great Argus sky 

 The eyes of hundreds were turned towards heaven 

 that, during the broad and glaring days forget 

 there is a heaven, and a treasure in it. They 

 membered it then, and remembered it in tun 

 Ah t if our fancies were only half true ! But while 

 we gazed and mused, the vision vanished; the 

 window was curtained, the rehearsal over, the seo 

 shells taught their lesson, the tent "as good as 

 new," the last scene shifted, and the old yesterday 

 faded out. 



BEWABE OF PAHTTNG. 



which will appe; 



" There is one warning lesson in life which fevr 

 of us have not received, and no book that I can 

 call to memory has noted down with an adequate 

 explanation. Itistbis, 'Beware of parting " The 

 true sadness is not in the pain of tbe parting, it is 

 in tbe When aud II. > w you are to meet again with 

 the face about to vanish fn 

 the passionate farewell to 

 your heart in her keeping, 

 by exchanged with pleasant compani 

 watering-place, a country-house, or the closo of a 

 festive day's blithe, or a careless excursion— a 

 cord, stronger or weaker, is snapped asunder in 

 every parting, and Timo's busy fingers are not 

 practiced in re-3plicing broken ties. Meet again 

 you may ; will it be again in the same way? With 



me sympathies? With the same sentiments? 

 Will the souls, hurrying on iu divers paths, unite 



more, as if the interval had been a dream? 

 Rarely, rarely ! Have you not, after even a year, 



a month's absence, returned to tho some 

 found the same groups re-assembled, und 

 yet sighed to yourself, 'But where is the charm 



nee breathed from the spot, and once smiled 



from the faces?' A poet said, 'Eternity itself 



lot restore the loss struck from tb 



you happy in the spot in which you 



the persons whose voices ai 



ear? Beware of porti 



Destiny— 'What matters! ' 



, who has 



i cordial good- 



"GOD'S FLRST TEMPLES.' 



Iiispofs of the win. 

 e tnnplebongb, 

 the Joy- by in in of I 



SELF-KNOWLEDGE, 



" Know Thyself" is one of tbe most compre- 

 hensive precepts in the whole moral system. It 

 was considered of such vast importance by the 

 ancients that it constituted one of tbe three pre- 

 cepts consecrated in golden letters at the temple 

 of Delphos, and was supposed to have been given 

 originally by Apollo himself As that idolatrous, 

 superstitious people conjectured that this sublime 

 ginated with their God, and was trans- 

 hem from heaven, should not we in this 



mitted t< 

 enlightened age, fer 

 comprehend and ap 

 conjectured we are i 

 and unfolded to us i 

 ofGoo'sword. One 



s origin, and s 



What they 

 re of. This oracle is uttered 



eat design of the scriptures is 

 to teach man to know himself,— to know his fallen 

 and depraved condition by nature, and bis incli- 

 nation to remove still further from the standard of 



Self-knowledge 



s commendable, 



)ecuuse 



the root of all 



wholesome infor 



aation. 



should know wba 



be is, that be m 





he la to be, and h 



ve some faint ide 



a of wha 



can be. It teaches 



man his mental 



IfillClllCJ 



deficiencies, his m 





ts of cha 



ter, and his besett 



ngsins. It point 





developed passion 



, which need sub 



duing, an 



brings to light t 



ose weak points 



which n 



guarding and fortifying. It is the keystone in the 

 fabric which man is rearing for himself. It is the 

 trusty pilot who can guide with unerring hand our 

 barque across tbe troubled sea of life; and steer 



i voyager. This knowledge 

 t is attainable by all persons. 

 : does not require that depth 

 of penetration which is de- 



of thought and for 

 inanded by the sciences ; those i<f common capacity 

 can call home their rambling thoughts, turn them 

 in upon themselves, and watch the motions and 

 iutenta of the heart. To do this effectujllv. we 

 have got to raise that veil which tho deceit of the 

 heart has thrown around us, and discbarge the 

 fawning sycophant and delusive flatterer who has 

 so long stood sentinel at the door, forbidding the 

 admittance of ambassadors of truth and inspection. 

 When this is done, we can then probo the heart in 

 all its labyrinths and reveal tho dormant germ and 

 bidden sin. We shall tben have access to the 

 fountain head, where we can search out the bane 

 which baa alloyed its source, and poisoned the 

 whole stream. Wo shall find the hitter waters of 

 self-seeking, sweeter than tbe waters of tho Gan- 

 ges to its Hindoo worshipers. Though the master- 

 mind of the royal sage, feast on the mysteries of 

 wisdom, yet shall ignorance of sell bow down the 

 spirit of a Solohom to idols. J. s. 



if part you 



forever divided t 



, soul, and thought, we stood 

 ! ono from the other, when once 

 we each only exclaimed, 'Met 



e contented with what he has done in this 

 1, stands but a very small chance of becoming 

 us for all he may do hereafter. He has laid 

 i, and the grass will soon be growing over him. 



,'r take your Bible and say, " I dou't want to 

 it, but I suppose I must," nor your hymn 

 book, and say, " I don't waut to sing, but I guess 

 I hud better;" — don't say, " I don't want to pray, 

 but I will, and keep praying till I do feel like it." 

 In tho habit of likening the Savior in ray 

 thoughts to some great and noble friend — don't 

 you suppose, if you went to tho door of auch a 

 friend and said to him, " I did not want to see you 

 a bit to-day, but I was afraid you would feel bart * 

 if I did not come, and would treat me according- 

 ly," that he would say, " If you don't 





you suppose that God is less delicate in friendship 



than an earthly friend'- - 



Goo's Bor/XTT.— The fl 

 sun to meet tbem. He 

 warmth, and draws 

 ground to rejoice in I 

 we implore God to gri 

 we desire, as if Be wei 

 over us Ho hangs, like the sun ovt 

 in all bounty, and longing to best 



do not implore the 

 down with genial 

 m forth from the dark 

 i light. And why should 

 t us tbe spiritual mercies 

 cold and unwilling, when 



thee 



rich 



-*2^- 



