360 



MOORE'S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FA1HLY NEWSPAPER. 



NOV. 6. 



M\t»' § jrt-Jfllw. 



•MAMA 13 DEAD." 



broaj sea of rice and iniquity, 6**»in tie distance 

 a star that lares him back to the harbor of safety, 

 what U it but a Mother's love. She Ulikea beacon 

 light to the wanderer, to bring him back to the 

 fold of eafety and lev*. Have any of you been 







DM : 



Four ye, 



friend? Ifaa-Alt WiaePro*i- 

 o*ed a Mother front your circle, 

 stronger ties to bind yon to that 

 loved Mother has gout? 

 ■e parsed away since I gir.ed on 

 sunken eye of a loved Mother. — 



THE TWO BRIDALS, 



Jlr.rrv Qbvt was to be married. Sweet Hettv, 

 who lived in the cottage by the wood, with the 

 neatly arranged pardon in from. Here were her 

 flcxteifl, freed from nil intrusion of weeds— there 

 the grape- vine displayed its broad green leaves and 

 i; whi o the woodtiine almost con- 

 cealed tbo little brown cottage, fairly Kissing its 

 low mossy eases. Sumeticies tbe gentle zephyr 

 would lift its closely woven leave*, and allow the 

 sun's golden beams to peep at the neatness and or- 

 der witbin,or perhaps am'le upon itsfa'r oconpants. 

 Here Hettv lived amid the beauties of nature. 

 She sought not brill'ant company; but, retired, as 

 it wore, from the battling world, ulbcd to the flow- 

 ers, worked wilh the beep, end caroled with the 

 bird* Hurry was not beautiful, no gloscyringles 

 waved over her fair white neck, but her soft brown 

 hair wft<t combed smoothly back with ail the sin 

 iilicity of aijnukeress. Her ejes were neither dar 

 nor [natrons, nor were her teeth admired for the! 

 pearly whiteness. Yet, wearing continually the 

 "ornament of a meek aud quiet spirit," we loved 

 her. 



And she mint leave ns — must leave her flowers 

 aod well trained vines — her favorite sent lythe 

 and all the bright halcyon spots, sacred 

 ictnory of her youtb, for Squire Pbrcy 

 an take her, as his bride, to hiaown noble 



the pile face t 

 It waaa bright morning in early summer, when the 

 air was perfumed with the breath of flower 1 , and 

 the birds caroled their sweetest notes the live long 

 day, that we imprinted the last klw upon ber 

 marble brow, and she was buried from our eight. 

 In the earth's gr<en bosom. Bow we love to visit 

 the spot where lies tbe dust of that now tainted 

 one; for it is there the attractions of earth fade 

 into nothingness, and we long to die aud be laid 

 by her bide. Lizzie Mat. 



'■ BUliI J- CotUg*," K. T., 1859. 



' bh'l Wllllhl 



like . 





, Hit; I 





me came, and with the bridal veil 

 ve her head, end the orange nrcatb 

 a her pale brow, she went from us. 

 Pays, weeks, and months — lonely and dreary 

 monlhB— passed, and 1 witnessed another bridal in 

 tbecotngo. IIettt lay quietly with her waxen 

 hands folded on ber breast. The orange wreath 

 had long been withered, and now tbe glossy myrtle 

 wiw woven with her brown hair. Stray sunbeams 

 s'ole through the open window and lighted up her 

 calm faco with happy miles. And now there was 

 no joyousoess— no merry laugh, or hearty greet- 

 ings—no "unties and kis,ei=" — naaght but solemn 

 tones, breathless whispers, and soft mofHed steps 



fled u 





MOTHER. 



What a world of meaning in this simple word. 

 How it (urns tho mind back to scenes of other 

 days — the days of happy childhood. Ah, IhoBe 

 sunny hours! Pain would I reoall them, but they 

 aro gone and forever. Like an oasis in the desert, 

 memory recalls tbe pust, and it breaks npthe foun- 

 tain of love, mingled with sorrow, down deep in 

 our hearts, and we are children again. It seems 

 bat yesterday that we were little playful children, 



r„fV 



*',..,[,],; 



,ndpur< 





nr in tbe bine 

 1 for the fun 

 Is and adi 



f with play, would she 

 i Saviob who 



wo bad tho 



Then, when 



gather na around her, and 



enme npon the earth to mil's 



our syinpft'liic* were enbsted, and tho tears would 



course down our cheeks— our littla hearts well 



nigh bursting witb grief, as we sobbed ourselvea 



to sleep on ber bosom. 



In after years have we sat and listened from 

 those same lips, — as in years before, when she sang 

 tons our first lullaby song, or cradled na on her 

 bosom,— to the story of the Cross, and of the final 

 triumph of Him who came to redeem a world 



A Mother! Sweetest name on earth. Where 







mothtrU faithful breast? What a confiding trust 

 we repose In that calm, serene countenance, and 

 what Iom a mother baa for us. How many tender 

 reonl lections crowd themselves upon our memory, 

 *» we recall the fond love of a matiur. Have not 

 your hearu sometimes been saddened by the cool- 

 ness of some friend you had confided In? and 

 does not memory bring back aomeltmea In your 

 Wo when yonr heart has been chilled by the cold 

 •BoflndilTerenee.comingfromasoorce where 



j. mi li kd bajan 



sjh-ltlcn; U „, br/ , 3 - co BOt f 0IU ,d inVuothif 

 your wounded apirila? When 

 Id and cheerless, and the rough 

 nniment beat rudely against 



Ion (bl i '' a 



tho world looks ce 



blast* of d!upi>i 



our heart*, where 



sympathy with such conttdenc* as t 



When sickness reals upon us, and lm 



upon a bed of suffering, who, ute 



bathe our aching brow, and with n 



gene* supply oor every wantT II, 



a Mother?— 

 ns prostrate 

 Mother, can 

 wearltd dill- 



When tho poor, misguided youth, who h... 



borne of bis childhood, and wandered npon the 



SUNSET FANCIES. 



•Ti8 the hour of twilight — a beautiful calm sum- 

 mer twilight. I have sought a retired spot to 

 mnso with nature on the grandeur of tho slowly 

 fading day. I watch the sun, as step by Mep he 

 leaves tbe earth — no disagreeable noise grates up- 

 on tbe ear as he makes his exit, but slowly and 

 silently he gots, and 1 almost fanoy I see him enter 

 be portals of Heaven. The shadows grow longer 

 nd longer — the birds chirp for him b farewell 

 ong— tic dew bows in r lovely bead and weeps — 

 nd night silently throws ber *aMe mantle over us 

 uU soon she will hold un-iUpu'td sway, 

 bitt'ng beat ath an aged oak, whose wide-spread- 

 ing branches are reflected iu the clear waters of a 

 babbling brook, I thought how befitting such an 

 spend alone with memory. Not to reflect 

 upon tbe pa-it, dwelling only npon its sorrows, but 

 them— tbe dark spots in the picture— n 

 glance, and calling up life's joys. There 

 i who are not content with having pas 1 

 through soi rows once, but they must think of th 



agination live them all over again, thns 

 making life doubly sorrowful and memory's n 

 unpleasant thing to reflect upon. Yes, we i 

 look upon the joys of life, onr happy hours of 

 childhood and the very many happy hours we have 

 Bpent since, and thank God it was not all a dark 

 picture. We would gather up the jewels lost, but 

 nre there not rare jewels in store for us in the fu- 

 ture? Let ns in fancy visit the fair climes of fa 

 tarity, wreathing for ourselves a bright hereafter, 

 dwelling not npon tbe sorrows that may come, but 

 rather let us look forward to tbe joys tbat will be 

 attained. Let us remember our present joys nre 

 tbe perfect joy that is in store 



®Mtt HJiStflJaug. 



"ALLS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS." 

 :gb o'er Ihs bright fiatuni the warm sonny sail 



the hsalt tbat Is gayest in ptruure's wild chsie, 



the ripple of light u'er Lis 1010001 waters g»xe 

 emed iriTled by raphe's w»nn breath, 



«*eo the g*y dawning or heps'* eheeriog light, 

 »re the g'ad fpiritcr old .eize the delight, 



i S b fair to the t- re, was broken Id twain, 

 tell of a cUme in which faapppioess dwells. 



LINGERLSG3 WITH NATURE.-HO. II. 



Atom &phikgs! A vision of reit for the weary, 

 petce for tho tortured, and renovatiou for the af- 

 flicted! A dawniogornewhop;s, and a refreshing 

 of olden memories! A dream of loving essu 

 pleasant thoughts, and merry companions! 



Woo can resist the magic of annoy skies, happy 

 faces, and pleasant surroundings? Not the de- 

 sponding Invalid who sits npon the long plazzia, 

 in the dewy morning, with a placid smilo and 

 hopeful glance fur each passing pleasure seeker, 

 hlldren who gamhol en the green 





!ur 11 



1 the future, and also 





While we have been watching the deporture 

 of tho day and rousing upon its beauties, twi- 

 light has deepened in'o night end Luna— the 

 pale goddess— wi h her retinue of glittering stars, 

 bos made her appearance proudly driving her 







e for 



compensate in so 

 ier superior — the sun. How beautiful now the 

 cene. Sitting on a mosey sod In the moon's pale 

 ight. with so much tbat is lovely to admire, I tho't 

 s there no lesson to be learned from such a scene 

 is ibis? I fancied I beard a voice whisker in ca- 

 dence low, " Fes, thoa mayest learn one lesson. If 

 earth is so lovely how superbly magnificent must 

 Heaven be." Tea, tbe beauties of the two can no 

 more be compared, each with the oiher, than the 

 lustre of a diadem resting upon the brow of an 

 tbly potentate can be compared with the Rlory 

 it surrounds the head of our Celestial King. 



HOW TRUE! 



Tobrb is in every human being a craving for 

 le felt pleasures, a desire for daily communion 

 Interchange or affection with some kindred 

 aplrit, who feels more interested in our thoughts 

 id feelings than all the world beside, and for 

 this, the wide, wide Universe offersno substitute;" 

 yet bow few are fitted, by education, habits, and 

 principles, to crjoy connubial happiness! — and 

 how many do not consider that In chooslngapart- 

 for life, rational and durable enjoyment can 

 7 be expected, with a person of suitable age, 

 similarity of tastes and abilities; of virtuous prin- 

 ciples, and of good understanding. They are 

 :aptivated with a pretty face, agreeable person, 

 and winning manners, or what is equally common 

 dern days, with the shining qualities of the 

 purse; tender looks, and tales of first love, (rvhich is 

 often only first fully,) are exchanged; they fincy 

 7 aro in love, ond rush into matrimony, like 

 horse into battle, and find ont, when it is too 

 late, that the silken bands of wedlock are Iron 

 .. fastened with arrows of steel, that give the 

 sharpest woond ! After n short acquaintance, they 

 lecome weary of each other. Tbe force of beauty 

 nd passion is exhausted, and glittering gold ap- 

 i- am, like miry clay, but a clog to the eijoymenta 

 of those who travel on this perilous road to con- 

 jugal felicity. 



Simplicity op Drks&— Female loveliness never 

 appears to so good advantage as when set off with 

 simplicity of dress. No artist ever decks his an 

 gels with towering feathers and gaudy jewelry; 

 and our duar human angels, if they wonld make 

 good tbotl till© to that name, sbonld carefully 

 avoid ornaments which properly belong to Indian 

 eqnawB and African princes. These ttawlrica m*y 

 serve to give effect on the stage or upon a ball- 

 room floor, bot In daily life there is no substitute 

 for the charm of simplicity, a vulgar taste is not 

 to be disguised by gold and diamonds. The ab- 

 sence of a true taste and refinement of delicacy, 

 cannot be compensated for by the passc-fcai on of the 

 most princely fortune. Mind measures guld, but 

 gold cannot measure mind. Through dress tbe 

 mind may be read, as through the ■<< 

 the lettered pige. A modest woman wilt dress 

 modi B'ly, and a really refined and Intellectual wo- 

 man will hear the marks of careful selection and 

 faultless taste. 



CASUAL THOUGHTS AND FANCIES.— No. I. 



Brevity:.— Many persons dilute their thoughts 

 till tbey lose much of their strength and valne— 1 

 good idea is otlen expanded into an article whicl 

 ia never read, when it might have been clearly and 

 .stroDyly expressed in a few lines. 



Exkrtion Essential to Plbasork.— A 

 greatest happiness results, not so much from the 

 potsenian of desired objects, as from tbe ejf c 

 which he must make to obtain tbem. If a mi 

 should hove every want supplied without an effV 

 ho wonld be perfectly miserable, for no new tea 

 oould, call forth renewed exertion. Truly ' 

 man's life or happiness consisteth not eo much in 

 the abundance of things tbat he hath; 1 ' but rath 

 in tbo abundance of things that he hath not an 

 for wbicn he may labor and hope. Perfect su 

 cess, as well as despair, might render a man m 

 hoppy, for both destroy hope, and thus take away 



exertion, 

 should weep when tbe world was under bis 

 Bway, for the limit of his Belfish ambition had 

 rcaohed, and nothing remained to him but 

 ly to eujoy his past acbieveme 

 which muBt ever preclude the possibility of 

 all enjoyment. 

 ;bbatkeb&— Trt 

 accident nor th 

 faculty which the great alone possess— 

 he higher and truer development of tboee powers 

 rblch all men have in a greater or less degree. 

 that true manhnese is not a gift to be merely 

 'ishtdfor, bnt is a work to be performed— some- 

 ling to be urought out by the man himself, with 

 inch hard labor and patient toil. 

 Fbiek nsnip. — Some persons strive to make 

 there their friends by a multitude of favors, and 

 ben think them very ungrateful If they will not 

 admit them to their fi iendsbip. Such persons for- 

 ;et that friendship is the result, not cf graMud*, but 

 if congeniality of spirit It Is based on eqnali- 

 ies, and shuns all idea of dependence or obliga- 

 ion. And bo, if thesa little conrtibies of common 

 ife are remembered as debu due from one to the 

 ther, they make debtors and creditors instead of 



OarxKTariors Servichs,— The true gentleman 

 ver strives to hide or to depreciate his services, 

 a order to remove all idea of dependence or obli- 

 gation which is so galling to tbe sensitive mind. 

 i ever seeking to show tbat bla favors to you 

 cost bim no trouble, or have been to bis posi- 

 advantage. He is like the Irishman at the 

 well, who, with one pail of water in bis band, of- 

 fered to convey another for a little boy who was 

 igglng it along, though scarcely able to lift it. 

 When the boy said he was afraid it wonld bo too 

 ich trouble, Pat replied, — "Ocb, he aley about 

 j trouble. It's no trouble at all, at all. lUatricr 

 take the both than the one, for one juat balances 

 tbe other." This is the highest e-tample of true 

 ulitenesp. The favor was not only performed, but 

 was done in Boch a way as to remove all idea of 

 debtcdness. Some persona would have done tbe 

 ime act, bnt would make theload of debt heavier 

 than n dozen pails of water. Pat was a genXltman, 

 nbe. 



tiness. Tare and Faisb.— Trne happiness 

 l retired nature, and an enemy to pomp and 



ment of one's self, and In tbe next, from tbe friend- 

 ship and conversation of 8 few select companions; 

 lovea shade and solitude, and naturally haunts 

 oveB and fountains, fields and meadows; in abort, 

 feels everything it wants within itself, and re- 

 ives no addition from muttltodes of witnesses 

 acd spectators. On tho contrary, false happiness 

 to be in a crowd, and to draw the eyes of the 

 world npon her. She iocs not receive any eatfs- 

 factinn from the applause which she gives herself, 



She flourishes in co; 



mblies, and has 



looked upon. — Ad/in 



md palaces, theatres and 

 siatence but when she Is 



irorsAKO acts of thought, and will, and deed, 

 shape the featares and expression of the soul— 

 i of love, and purity, nod truth — habits of 

 ood, malice, and oncleanne^f — silently mould 

 ■falon it, till at length it wears the likeness of 

 or the image and superscription of the Evil 

 One. 



lightly over the rural walks, and quietly laagb at 

 tbo love-born maidens and their stricken Leak- 

 dhhs, who promenade unconsciously through tho 

 shaded avenues. 



A breath of res', ease, and freedom seems wsfc- 

 ed npon the mornlug breeze, and muscles long 



used to labor lose their tension beans attuned to 



stormy sorrow feel 

 minds jaded with 

 nesp, catch sweet glimpses of their younger and 

 better selves in the prattling voices about them; 

 while those high and holy souls, to whom thonght 

 is a joy, retire within, and gaze in silent rapture 

 u/ron the graceful mingling of beautiful forms, 

 waving shadows and sparkling fountains. Tbe 

 soiled and morbid traveler here Bbakes tbe d 

 from bia garments and thoughts— tun caro-wi 

 housewife forgets her anxieties end relapses 

 ber early dreams. Heavy eyes aro brlgbte: 

 wrinkled and stolid faces are lightened at eight of 

 the varlona phases of life which this m 

 ty displays. 



As the snn grows warm the rustio 

 grass-paved walks are deserted, aod the groups 

 about the fountains, with their wry faces and 

 laughing chat, grow sm 

 ed to a few parties from tbe country, whose hearty 

 mirth and vociferous cheer jars npon the still 

 noon-day quiet. As the shades lengthen, tbe gay 

 swarms appear, ridiog and promenading with re- 

 newed zest. The graceful morning costumes, su 

 chaste and simple, have given place to tbe gaudy 

 hues and floating draperies which bespeak gayety 

 and fashion, and, as evening comes, tbe moonlight 

 drives, the inspiring music and bewitching dance 

 give no memories of the rural morning scene. 



Like tbe Summer Sabbath to the work day world, 

 is the soothing Influence of sweet Avon to tbe 

 orowd weary and businesB-worn, who seek health 

 and pleasure in this qaiet retreat. It is happiness 

 unspeakable, tbat, in the order of Providence, Borne 

 beaatiful resorts are saved from the giant strides 

 of speculation and the mouldering breath of decay, 

 where spirit-sighs may wanton with the still night- 

 air, and poet-bear's beat high and fast in the fie- 

 quenled Bolltudea. It is theie that the gt-nlle grow 

 vivacions — the timid, brave — the boisterous, sub- 

 bned— the triftiug, thoughtfol— the seared, sensi- 

 tive—the pioos, holy. These are the oases— spots, 

 green and fresh, consecrated to repose and re vivl- 

 licatlon; where the healing waters flow, and the 

 balmy air Is laden with hope-giving health and 



Avon, the incomparable, the never-forgotten:— 

 eptendor aud power may find loftier balls, more 

 magnificent views and Nature's grander moods 

 bnt none more than thou will linger as a sweet 

 memory, stealing into the heart like a silent joy, 

 soothing, as the gentle hand of love to tbe aching 

 oend and fevered brow. t, a, t . 



jlabkib ^wsiurjs. 



TOICE3 WITHIN*. 



THE YOUNG MAH'S LEISURE. 



YouNa Man! after the duties of the day are 

 over, how do yon spend yonr evenings? When 

 business Is dull, and leavcp, at your disposal, many 

 unoccupied hourri, what disposition do yon make 

 of them? I have known, and now know, many 

 young men, who, if they devoled to any scientific, 

 or literary, or profes&ional pursuits, the time they 

 spend in games of chance, and lounging in bed, 



night r 



You 1 





f the 

 by spending a snort time every evening in gazing 

 at the stars, after ringing the bell for nine o'cl 

 Sir William Phipps, who, at the age of forty 

 had attained the order of knighthood, and the 

 office of High Sheriff of New England, and G< 

 ernor of Massachusetts, learned to read and wr 

 after his eighteenth year, of a ship carpenter, In 

 BoBton. WilliBm Gifford. the great editor ol 

 Qaarterly, was an apprentice to a shoemaker, 

 spent his leisure hoors in otody. And becans 

 had neither pen nor paper, elate nor pencil, he 

 wrought ont bis problems on smooth leather with 



David UittenhouBe, the Amerir 

 when a plow-boy, waB observed to have covered 

 bis plow and fences with figures and calculations 

 James Ferguson, the Scotch astronomer, learned 

 to read by bimself and mastered the 

 astronomy while a shepherd's boy in the fields by 

 night. And perhaps it ia not too ranch to say 

 that, If the hoars wasted iu idle company, in vait 

 conversation at the tavern, were only spent In tht 

 pursuit of useful knowledge, the dullest appren- 

 tice In any of our shops mlgbt become an Intelll 

 mber of society, and a fit person for mosl 

 Ivil offices. By each a course, the roust) 



THE DAY BOOK 



EvtiiY soul that Is born into this world is like 



blank book, having its pages . f virgin wbite.- 



Every thought, and act, and deed is written npo: 



boo! with fearful accuracy, and durablenes*.- 



Eaob day has a 

 to ho filled with 

 too us thoughts 

 blotted over wli 



ed to It its bright page either 

 teatly arranged record of vir- 

 actious, cr to bo scrawled and 

 is, stains and vices, 

 God has given us a memory by which wo are ena- 

 bled to turn back the leaves of the book, and look 

 over our past life, and take lessons and warnings 

 by experience; and though we cannot bring to 

 recollection every thought or deed of onr life, y< 

 they esiht, indelibly engraven on the tablet ( 

 time, and will, at some time stare as fearfully in 

 the face. 



Ob, how happy is the condition of that eonl who 

 can turn buck tbe leaves of memory, until be 

 cornea to the paje where the Savior hat vrrltteu, 

 1 Thy ains aro forgiven thee." What & difference: 

 between the pages following this and those pre- 

 ceding it! HIs"bIds are blotted out, nnd bis 

 transgressions are remembered no more." Thence- 

 forth are " all things done decently, and in order." 

 There is also a Great Book in Heaven. An 

 angel stands by it, and whenever a sinner in this 

 world turns to Christ, in truth and sincerity, fully 

 endowed with faith onto salvatlor, wilh obedience 

 to the will of HeaveD, bis name is written in tbe 

 800k of Lire, and all the holy angels rejoice at tho 

 baptism in the "blood that cleanses from overy 



ngof mnny a youth la laid ;':L ! e; 



ideas, instead of beingconfined to local suhjecta 

 technicalities, might range the wide fields of crca 

 and other stars from among the young mer 

 a city might be added to tbe list of wortbiet 

 re gilding onr country with bright yet met 

 lOW light.— Rev. Dr. Murray. 



b rjf light 1 



,_JI courage is the result of reasoning. A brave 

 mind Is always impregnable. Resolution lite more 

 In the head thin in tbe veins, and a just sense of 

 honor and infamy, of duty end of teligiyn, will 

 carry na further than all the force of mechanism. 



'Tis a miserable thing to live innupeaM; it is 

 tbe life of a spider. 



FBE5HNE6S OF THE BIBLE. 



Tdb learned Le Clerc tells ns, that while he was 

 compiling his Harmony, he was so struck with ad 

 miration of the excellent discourse of Jesus, and 

 bo inflamed with the love of bia most holy doc- 

 trine, that he thought he had then bat just begun 

 to he acquainted with what he bad scarcely ever 

 laid out of bis bands from bis infancy. 



Queen Elizabeth, who spent much of her time 

 in reading tho best writings of herown and former 

 ages, has left on record tbe following: — " I walk 

 many times in the pleasant fields of tho Holy 

 Scriptures, where I pluck tbe goodlisome herba 

 of sentences by pruning, eat them by reading, di- 

 gest them by musing, and lay tbem upat length in 

 tho high seat of memory by gathering them to- 

 gether, so that, having tayted their sweetness, I 

 may leas perceive the bitterness of life." 



During the time ibat Dr. Kennicott was employ- 

 ed on his Polyglott Bible, it was the constant office 

 of his wife, in their daily airings, to read to him 

 those different portions to which his immediate 

 attention was called. When preparing for their 

 ride, the day after hia great work was completed, 

 npon ber asking bim what book she should take, 

 "O," said be, u let ns begin tbe Bible."— I'rim itivt 

 Church Magaiine. 



Pbomiskh, — The following sentences from the 

 pen of William Gnrnall, deserve much pondering; 

 tbey will raise a vital question in the mind of those 

 who have never felt tbe sweetness of tbe promises 

 In the honr of need:— 'Promises are like the 

 clothes we wear. If there be heat in the body to 

 warm tbem, they warm ns; but if there be none, 

 they give none. 80 where there is living faith, 

 the promise will afford warm comfort; bat 00 a 

 dead, unbelieving heart, it lies cold and ineffectual; 

 It has no more effect than pouring a cordial down 

 the throat of a corpse. Again, tbe promises do 

 not throw out comfort as Ore throws out heat; for 

 then we should only need to go to them in order 

 to be warmed: their beat is like the Are in tbe 

 flint, which must be struck ont by force, and this 

 force can only b-> applied by faUh." 



the light, 1 

 there is no 



light, withoui 



IB Truth— 0, Lord, who art 

 the trath, the life; in whom 

 , error, vanity, nor death: tho 

 there is error; the life, with- 

 the-re is dea'h; say, Lord, let theie be 

 light, and 1 shall see light, and eschew darkness; I 

 rtliail f-co the way, and avoid wandering; [ shall 

 see tho truth, and ehun error; I shall see life and 

 escape death; illuminate, 0, illuminate my blind 

 soul, which sltteth in darkness, and the shadow of 

 death; and direct my feet in tho way of peace.— 



The Sn*now of God's Wiko. — Lord, let my 

 soul flee from the soorchlng thoughts of the world 

 under the cover of tby wiDgs, that, being refreshed 

 by the moderation of thy shadow, she may sing 

 merrily. In peace will I lay me down and rest— 

 Augu4t'mt. 



Tob faults of tbe world can only be learned by 

 long acquaiutance with It and by suffering from 

 hat acquaintance. 



