AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
235 
to diffuse around you sunshine and joy. If 
you do this you will be sure to be beloved. 
THE LOVE OF WOMAN. 
Man is the creature of interest and ambi¬ 
tion. His nature leads him forth into the 
struggle and bustle of the world. Love is 
but the embellishment of his early life, or a 
song piped in the intervals of the acts. He 
seeks for fame, for fortune, for space in the 
world’s thought, and dominion over his fel¬ 
low-men. But a woman’s whole life is a 
history of the affections. The heart is her 
world; it is there her ambition strives for 
empire—it is there her avarice strives for 
hidden treasures. She sends forth her sym¬ 
pathies on adventure; she embarks her 
whole soul in the traffic of affection; and, if 
shipwrecked, her case is hopeless—for it is 
a bankruptcy of the heart. To a man the 
disappointment of love may occasion some 
bitter pangs ; it wounds some feelings of 
tenderness—it blasts some prospects of feli¬ 
city ; but he is an active being; he may dissi¬ 
pate his thoughts in the whirl of varied oc¬ 
cupation, or may plunge into the tide of 
pleasure ; or, if the scene of disappointment 
be too full of painful associations, he can 
shift his abode at will, and taking as it were, 
the wings of the morning, can “ fly to the 
uttermost parts of the earth, and be at rest.” 
But a woman’s is comparatively a fixed, se¬ 
cluded, and a meditative life. She is more 
the companion of her own thoughts and 
feelings; and if they are turned to ministers 
of sorrow, where shall she look for consola¬ 
tion'? Her lot is to be wooed and won ; and, 
if unhappy in her love, her heart is like 
some fortress that has been captured, 
sacked and abandoned, and left desolate. 
How many bright eyes grow dim—how 
many lovely forms fade away into the 
tomb, and none can tell the cause that 
blighted their loveliness ! As the dove will 
clasp its wings to its side, and cover and 
conceal the arrow that is preying on its 
vitals, so is it the nature of woman to hide 
from the world the pangs of wounded affec¬ 
tion. The love of a delicate female is al¬ 
ways shy and silent. Even when fortunate, 
she scarcely breathes it to herself; but 
when otherwise, she buries it in the re¬ 
cesses of her bosom, and there lets it cower 
and brood among the ruins of her peace. 
With her if the desire of her heart has failed, 
the great charm of her existence is at an 
end. She neglects all the cheerful exercises 
which "gladden the spirits, quicken the 
pulses, and send the tide of life in healthful 
currents through the veins. Her rest is 
broken, the sweet refreshment of sleep is 
poisoned by melancholy dreams ; “ dry Sor¬ 
row drinks her blood,” until her enfeebled 
frame sinks under the slightest external in¬ 
jury. Look for her, after a little while, and 
you find friendship weeping over her untime¬ 
ly grave, and wondering that one who but 
lately glowed with all the radiance of health 
and beauty should so speedily be brought 
down to “ darkness and the w r orm.” You 
will be told of some wintry chill, some casu¬ 
al indisposition, that laid her low ; but no 
one knows the mental malady that previous¬ 
ly sapped herstrength, and made her so easy 
a prey to the spoiler. She is like some ten¬ 
der tree, the pride and beauty of the grove ; 
graceful in its form, bright in its foliage, but 
with the worm preying at its heart. We 
find it suddenly withering, when it should be 
most fresh and luxurient. We see it droop¬ 
ing its branches to the earth, and shedding 
leaf by leaf; until wasted and perished away, 
it falls even in the stillness of the forest; and 
as we muse over the beautiful ruin, we strive 
in vain to recollect the blast or thunderbolt 
that could have smitten it with decay. 
From Washington Irving’s Essays. 
SOMETHING LEFT TO IIVE FOB, 
A little fatherless boy, of four years of 
age, sat upon the floor surrounded by his 
toys. Catching sight ofhis mother’s face as 
the tears fell thick and fast, he sprang to her 
side, and peeping curiously in her face, as 
he put his hand in hers, said, “ you’ve got 
me,” (simple little artless comforter !) “Dry 
your tears, dear mother. There is some¬ 
thing left to live for; there are duties from 
which your bleeding heart may not shrink ! 
A 1 talent ’ you may not 1 bury;’ a steward¬ 
ship of which your Lord must receive an 
account; a page to be filled by your hand 
with holy truth; a tender plant to guard from 
blight and mildew ; a drop that must not ex¬ 
hale in the sun of wordliness ; an angel for 
whom a ‘ white robe ’ mustbe made ; a cherub 
in whose hands a ‘ golden harp ’ must be 
placed • a ‘ little lamb ’ to be led to the 
‘ Good Shepherd.’ ” 
“ You’ve got me Ay! teach him not by 
your vain repinings that our Father pitieth 
not his children ! Teach him to love Him as 
seen in the sky and sea, in rock and river ; 
teach him to love Him in the cloud as in the 
sunshine ! You will have your gloomy hours 
—there is a void even that loving little heart 
may not fill; but there is still another, and 
He says, “ Me ye always have." 
BOSTON GIRLS NOT FOR TENNESSEE- 
The editress of the Olive Branch, published 
at Boston, having received a communication 
from Nashville, Tennessee, inquiring whether 
some female printers could be hired there to 
go to Nashville, replied as follows : 
Every girl in Boston who is old enough to 
work in a printing office, or any other office, 
has a lover whom she would be just as likely 
to trade oft' for a Tennessee article as she 
would be to swap him off for a grizzly bear. 
The idea of a Boston girl, who goes to op¬ 
eras, patronizes Jullien’s concerts, waltzes 
once a week, eats ice cream, rides in the 
omnibus, wears satin slippers, sometimes 
kisses the editor, going to Tennessee, except 
as she goes there as the wife of one of your 
first class citizens, editors excepted, is truly 
ridiculous. Wouldn’t a girl in a silk dress, 
with lace-edged pantalets and shiny gaiter 
boots, look well, trudging through the mud 
and mire of Nashville to an old barn of a 
printing office, while in one corner of the 
same room two old darkies are jerking away 
at an old Ramage press, and in the other the 
editor is squirting tobacco juice over the 
floor? Wouldn’t she be in a nice fix when 
the editor and some other brute of a fellow, 
whom he has offended, got playing at the 
game of shooting their revolvers across the 
office at each other's heads 7 Who would 
make the fire when Tom had run off and the 
editor was drunk ? Who’d go home with 
her dark nights ? Who would take her out 
to ride on Saturday afternoon, and go to 
church with her on Sunday? No, sir, a 
Boston girl won’t go to Tennessee for love 
or money. She can get enough of both 
nearer home. 
Fair and Reasonable. —A worthy old gen¬ 
tleman in the country having employed an 
at torney, of whom he had a pretty good opin¬ 
ion, to do some law business for him in Lon¬ 
don, he was greatly surprised, on his coming 
to town, and demanding his bill of law 
charges, to find that it amounted to at least 
three times the sum he expected ; the honest 
attorney assured him that there was no arti¬ 
cle in his bill but what was fair and reasona¬ 
ble. “ Nay,” said the country gentleman, 
“ there’s one of them I am sure can not be so, 
for you have set down three shillings and 
fourpence for going to Southwark, when 
none of my business lay that way; pray, 
what is the meaning of that, sir?” “ Oh, sir/’ 
said he, “ that was for fetching the chine and 
turkey from the carrier’s, that you sent me 
for a present out of the country.” 
PUNCH’S ADVICE TO SPORTSMEN. 
In carrying a gun over the shoulder on full 
cock, be careful not to point the muzzle at 
the gamekeeper’s toes, for fear of blowing 
his brains out. 
2. Gunpowder should be carried in a flask, 
or, if loose in the pocket, should not be mixed 
with fuses. As a rule, no sportsman ought 
to smoke. 
3. Before blowing down one barrel of a 
gun, it is advisable to see that the other is 
not loaded. To ascertain this, look inside, 
and let off a cap with your toe. 
4. The practice of drying powder over the 
fire in a frying pan should be discouraged. 
Many accidents have resulted from it. 
5. Always shut the eyes before firing 
6. Never carry a loaded gun on full cock 
horizontally when a friend is walking before, 
unless you are sure of the thickness of his 
corduroys. 
7. If a bird should rise betweentwo sports¬ 
men in a direct line, both ought not to fire at 
once. 
8. If a crack should be observed in your 
barrel, tie it firmly round with a bit of string 
for fear of accidents. 
The above rules are intended for the ob¬ 
servance of sportsmen of some experiences 
Gentlemen who have not been accustomed 
to handle a gun will do well to attend to the 
following. 
9. Keep your powder damp. 
10. Use ready-made cartridges; bite one 
end off'; be careful to let the shot out. 
11. Get somebody who understands it, to 
let your gun off for you . Or, finally—as the 
soundest piece of advice that can be offered, 
12. Stop at home and mind your business, 
and don’t think of going out shooting at all 
EXTREME MODESTY. 
Somebody tells the following amusing an¬ 
ecdote of Thornly, of the great India (rubber) 
ware-house, in Boston : 
A lady went into Thornlev’s store, and 
inquired: 
“ Have you any India rubber elegv-encir- 
clers ?” 
“What did you say, ma’am?” said the 
usually wide-awake and acute John, slightly 
confounded. 
“ Elegy-eneirclers,” repeated the lady, with 
a blush. 
Thornly looked around the store, first at 
the green piles of India-rubber, then at gutta 
percha, then at India-rubber cloth, and so 
on, but without, seeing anything correspond¬ 
ing to the name. 
“ You are sure it’s made of India-rubber ?” 
said Mr. T., inwardly declaring that there was 
nothing made of that article that lie had not 
seen. 
“ Oh, yes,” replied the lady. 
“ Ho you see anything like it ?” at length 
returned the bewildered fellow. 
The lady looked around the well filled 
store, and at length her eye rested upon a 
box, which she blnshingly pointed to. What 
do you suppose it contained 7 
Garters ! 
She was soon helped to a pair, and as she 
took her leave, it all at once occurred to Mr. 
Thornly that garters were 1-e-g encirclers. 
Aristotle, on being censured for bestow¬ 
ing alms on a bad man, made the following 
noble reply : “ I did not give to the man ; I 
gave it to humanity.” 
