MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
SONNET. 
BY WM. EDWARD KNOWLES. 
Flow the deep chambers of the silent tomb, 
Avoice calls hourly for the gifted ones: 
Aid at the call the sadden’d spirit dons 
lie garb of sorrow, in its hour of gloom. 
Tie cheerless night, and clouds of darker shade, 
Draw round as if in mockery of grief; 
Jnd the sad heart, when the last prayer is said, 
Tnlocks the fount of tears, to find relief- 
ill ! it is sad to see the aged fall 
Jeneath the stroke of Him who thinkest best; 
Sut sadder yet to see the sable pall 
dlose round the young, and fold them to their rest— 
Vet weep not, friend, for they shall wake again, 
Wake with their God, on the eternal plain! 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
MAKS HOME PLEASANT AND CHEERFUL. 
Of courso it is the desire of every ono 
,vho has a home, to have a pleasant and 
cheerful ono, and as near perfect as may be. 
I will ask how this can best be done ? Now 
let us look at the matter in its truo light. 
Every family needs a dwelling ; but few 
families, however, liavo such dwellings as 
are calculated to make homo what they de¬ 
sire. It is a fact that not ono house in ten, 
built oven in these’ days of improvement, is 
constructed and finished as it should be, in 
order to have things handy and convenient 
for in-door operations. Quite too many, 
when they make up their minds to build a 
now house, make too headlong a beginning— 
and often proceed in this mannor, till they 
come to the construction and arrangement 
of the insido. When they have proceeded 
thus far with their new building, they find 
they have been to work without a plan.— or 
what is about the same thing, with but a 
mere crude one. It is an easy matter to 
erect tlio frame work for a house, and en¬ 
close it; little planning or head-work is 
needed thus far,— but to arrange inside 
rooms, so that they may bo convenient and 
handy for “housework,” etc., needs a well 
drawn plan, from somo one competent; and 
no one is more competent to have a voice in 
the matter than the housekeeper herself. 
She knows better than any ono the size 
she wants her rooms, and how they ought 
to be arranged to each other to have them 
easy of access. It is necessary for the per¬ 
son intending to build, to have his plan 
drawn with accuracy, and every room laid 
out with precision, beforo the carpenter 
strikes a blow, thus saving alterations as he 
progresses. 
There is nothing (in worldly matters) a 
person ought to interest himself more about, 
than the construction, finish, and arrange¬ 
ment of his house. Every husband must 
be aware how much fretfulness and ill- 
temper is caused by having unhandy rooms, 
and especially a small and badly-contructcd 
kitchen. The kitchen, as every one knows, 
is the most important room in the house, 
and where this apartment is pinched, and 
ill-arranged, in regard to its situation to 
to other rooms, it is not at all to bo wondered 
at if she docs feel a little fretful at times. 
The great desideratum in regard to build¬ 
ing, is, to have every room in tho house so 
arranged and fitted, as to have a placo for 
everything, and everything in its placo. If 
those who are well able to build expensive 
houses, would pay more regard to tho con¬ 
venience of tho inside, and a little less for 
shnv on the outside, — it would be thought 
full as good economy. I have seen large 
hoisos with a beautiful exterior, appearing 
to the passer-by, to be model houses, with¬ 
out and within. But let him just tako a 
poep inside tho walls; perhaps tho parlor 
and fining room are large, commodious 
rooms, and everything in excellent order 
and neatness. Next look into tho kitchen 
and sleeping rooms — the former, may be 
not more than ten by twelve, with cupboard 
and sink in the samo space ; tho latter, per¬ 
haps, seven by nine, with a large bed for 
tho old people, and a truckle bed for tho 
little ones, in this crowded space. Nearly 
half tho houses, I presume, are built and 
arranged somewhat after this manner. Now 
what chanlo is there for health and cheer¬ 
fulness in i house constructed after this 
plan. 
No man cun better lay out his proporty 
than in adorning and making things conve¬ 
nient and pleasant around his houso and 
homo. Of course it is tho dosiro of ovory 
one who has a home, to have that home as 
comfortable and cheerful as may bo for tho 
female part of tho household; this done, 
let us, (those of us who are husbands,) see 
that they have such assistance in their more 
laborious toils, as they oftentimes actually 
need- 
It is too much tho case, especially among 
us Now Englanders, that wo are so anxious 
to add money to our pockets, we sadly neg- 
loct that which will add to tho solid pleasures 
of our firesides. This desire to accumulate 
property to leave for our posterity, causos 
us to noglect to make such provision for 
our home circle as is required of us. As I 
advance in lifo, theso things appear to mo 
differently from what they did when I first 
commenced fitting for myself a dwelling- 
place. I feel now to say with tho words of 
THE PHYSICIAN’S SABBATH. 
The address to the rocont graduates of tho 
Albany Medical Collego by Professor Mc- 
Naughten, has in it the following truthful 
another :— “ Lot others spend their money P assa 3 L • 
for balls, fashions, etc., but let me spend , That physicians so often appear to neglect 
„ , , , , , ,, the ordinary duties of religion, js not always 
mine for a neat family homestead; and then their fau i t _ often it is their misfortune.- 
let me, year by year, spend no small part of j They have no Sabbath or day of rest, liko 
my incomo in adorning and improving it, j other people. Their duties are as urgent 
SOCRATES IN NEW YORK. 
let me, year by year, spend no small part of They have no Sabbath or day of rest, liko 
my incomo in adorning and improving it, other people. Their duties are as urgent 
till, in tho decline of life, I shall have a per- on that holy day as on others, and some- 
feet homo for myself and family.” tj™ 08 more s0 ' . Not ^frequently when 
. , , , - . , ,, , they are preparing to go to church, some 
A different state of society would bo the wo / thy member on his own way there, leaves 
result, if we would interest ourselves more his message for “the Doctor to call,” or 
for the welfare and happiness of our fami- sends a servant, when tho bells are ringing, 
lies, and study to make tho fire-side circle ) vbo > as a general rule, leaves the message, 
, ... i ij , mi_i,,™ in the most imperious style, “to come as 
what it should bo. Then might we have . , ... 1 „ T . J ’ c 
® quick as possible. In this manner, bun- 
pleasant and agreeable homes then might dayj after Sunday, a physician is kept from 
wo witness our sons and our daughters re- Church, or left in a state of mind not tho 
turning with smiles of love and good fool- host fitted for being edified when ho goes 
ing, to the parental roof — to the home of there. . 
, ,, , , A „ 1 trust it will not be considered out of 
their youth, that they may make glad the place> 
on such an occasion as this, to advert 
hearts of their endeared and venerable (- 0 another circumstance, which, I fear, has 
parents. A. Todd. some influence on the minds of physicians; 
Smichfield, R. I., 12 th mo., 1852. and that is, the readiness with which many 
--- ‘ clergymen lend their influence to the propa- 
5QCRATES IN NEW YORK. gation of every novelty in the theory or 
„ , ~ practice of medicine. From thus going out 
Socrates probably knew almost all of tho 0 f their own department, and giving opinions 
fourteen thousand male dwollers m Athens. on ma tters thoy do not understand, physi- 
At one time we behold him holding friendly c ians are apt to conclude that their zeal in 
converse with u pucst of the dominant 10 - t j ie j r own profession, when they show any, 
ligion there. And next we see him arguing ; g fanaticism; their faith, credulity, and their 
with the lawyers,, or merchants, or labor- opinion on any subject 0 f little value.— 
e.rs. 1 Drhaps we may best realize his rola- g£ ch a coc lusion is often harsh, and often 
tions to At ions, it wo fancy him returned wr0I1 g. We ought not to confound tho wor- 
to earth, and behold him waikmg the streets thy. who endeavor to imitate their Divine 
ot Lew York, and taking up here his mis- M ' st thougb at a humble distance, with 
smn of:reformation. Behold him walking their wea ker brethren. Wo have weak, as 
down A all street in the morning, and urg- well as umvorthy brethren in our own pro- 
mg there with tho bankers and brokers up- fesgion . Indeed J every rank in i ife f urn ish- 
ou the transient and paltry worth of stocks es a at numder 0 f people of unstable 
m i loms Canals and Ene Railroads, and m j nds whom tho poet well describes as 
endeavoring to impress upon their minds „ / ... . ., 
the truth Ot a destiny for man somewhat Everything by starts, but nothing long.” 
higher than this. And then he catches a A physician shou ld be sober and grave— 
lawyer by tho button, and tells him that He h ! is often in his power t0 do much good 
hero will be call for subtle eloquence at the in a iet by h £ adv5ce and CO nversa- 
last assize. At half past ono he saunters tion / when t he minds of the patients are in 
into the Exchange, and is soon found ad- the best mood to be seriously impressed— 
dressing a group on the nature of the Beau- fiut in ivi this advice [ ff m fa {. from ro . 
tiful. At two, look for him at Delmomco s, comme * din | tha t you should he officious in 
arguing tho foolishness of this habit of eat¬ 
ing— that it is a mere gratification of a want, 
and that the part of wisdom is to keep as 
such matters. Do not, on your part, en¬ 
croach on tho proper domain of tho clergy, 
nor mako your religion a mere means of 
far as possibie from the want! At four, you prom oting your worldly prosperity. Of the 
shall find him in close communion and con- U characters, the hypocrite is lessrespecta- 
versation at some prominent residence on w than the s ’ optic n The ono is a rogue; 
Fifth Avenue. After entering into all their th other ma b £ simplv-fool. 
various pleasures and amusements, he will _ J r / __ 
not fail to wind up with some good advice DO WE SLEEP ENOUGH? 
upon tho truo life — which is ono of tern- _ 
perance, sobriety and simplicity, etc., etc. Good, honest peoplo cannot endure to 
Imagine him in all these various phases, and fmd the llow su ^ sh f no on tho walls of their 
you shall then know what Socrates was to dormito £ es when they rise, and society will 
Athens, and how he would be welcomed not tolerat o early retiring, for night is the 
among us. ' a 1 ' JV,n S’ time for pleasure-seeking—tho season for 
POPULATION OF THE GLOEE? social and festive gatherings, and tho hour 
ot inspiration tor poets. So, between tho 
Tiie population of the globo is supposed j;."’ 0 ’ ^ eo P> Y bo but a modest > cas ’b r_ 
to be less than one thousand millions-938.- frightened spirit, has very narrow quarters 
POPULATION OF THE GLOEE? 
The population of the globo is supposed 
to be less than ono thousand millions— 93S,- 
000.000. A French writer, alluding to the appointed for her accommodation I ho 
subject, says:--If all mankind were col- ; P bd osophical study how they can lessen 
looted in one placo, every four individuals tboir allowance ot sle0 P with impunity and 
1 . . . thn n+ nnnriro a + ii’ iitv tho c nthtnl anil 
occupying a square metro, tho whole might 
be contained in a field ten miles square.— 
tho men of euorgy stir up tho slothful and 
encourage the ambitious, by citing the cases 
Thus, generally speaking, the population of | of such as occur in their reading or oxperi- 
a country might be packed, without much ence, whoso hours of night y rest have been 
• • 1 *. i , . i ! non trap, t.pri wir.nin hrip/mr than tho ordinary 
squeezing, in its capital. But tho mean 
idea this gives us of tho number of the hu¬ 
man race, is counterbalanced by its capa¬ 
bility of extension. The new world is said 
to contain of productive land 4,000,000 
square miles of middling quality, each capa- 
contracted within briefer than the ordinary 
limits. 
Now, we have not a doubt that a man 
might, by diminishing the amount of his 
daily eating to the very minimum that would 
sustain nature, and by driving from his tablo 
to participate in the ceremony. “ My 
nurse,” said Mr. I., “a good old Scotch 
own voice trembled, I saw more than ono granted, should be demanded. The selfish 
moist eye around the table my own were world is little inclined to give one his own, 
and who could help it: Buffalo Courier, unless he havo tho manliness to claim it.— 
-—-- Tho lack of tho proper fulfilment of this 
Falsehood could do but little mischief, principle has lost to many, fortune, fame 
if it did not fain tho credit of truth. and reputation. 
for tin Idtbics. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
THE DEAD. 
The dead!—whom call we so ? 
They that breathe purer air, that feel, that know 
Things wrapt from us!— Hemans. 
We lay them away in their low green graves, 
From the light of the golden sun; 
And we know they have reached a summer clime, 
That the crown they have sought is won. 
We know that the ills and the toils of life, 
Which darkened their spirits are o'er; 
That the beautiful flowers which faded here, 
Will bloom in that land evermore. 
There the spirit-sword in its shining sheath, 
Ne’er corrodes with the rust of care; 
And the queuchless thirst, and the weary heart, 
Are no more for the dead to bear. 
They life us as morn-birds on drooping wings, 
Hie away ere the set of sun ; 
As the midnight stars in their beauty dim, 
As flower-leaves are folded at noon. 
They sported with us on the sunny plains, 
In the long bright years agone ; 
Ere the soft eye closed, or the faltering step, 
To darkness and silence went down. 
We have dreamed of joys which the earth holds not, 
Which are like to the joys above; 
We have laid our hearts in their tenderness 
On the altar of earthly love. 
But how may we welcome a stranger guest, 
To the soul’s still beautiful shrine; 
Or rear there a temple of living worth, 
Which passion e’er deems divine. 
For the rainbow angels of love and trust 
In the cold world may not abide; 
But our beautiful, holy dead will stay, 
For aye, as they passed from our side. 
We have naught but burning memories left, 
For the lonely and clouded hours; 
With them, life’s dew to heaven went up, 
As the dew from morning flowers. 
We sit by their graves at the twilight hush, 
’Mid the shadows of even tide; 
And read there the tale which the gray stone tells, 
How they lived, how they loved and died. 
But we may not mourn though the shroud and knell 
With the anguish of life are fraught; 
Yet of tiie chastening dower which they bring, 
Is spirit-life immortal bought. 
Camillus, N. Y., Jan. 30, 1853. C. S. Brooks. 
THE OPPORTUNITIES OF WOMAN- 
an hundred thousand women—to say noth- 
ine of the other departments of Woman’s 
profession. 
These remarks are designed to direct at¬ 
tention to an effort soon to bo made by the 
ladies of this city, which aims at once to 
elevato woman’s profession, and to educate 
tho millions of neglected children of our 
country. 
Tho details cannot now bo prosented.— 
The aim all will approve. Wise and efficient 
women are engaged in carrying it forward, 
and the names of those selected as managers 
are pledged that the measures to be adopted 
will be both judicious and practical. 
2RIDAL CHAMBERS. 
We would call attention to a prominent 
feature in all this great, increasing, and vul- 
j gar display in hotels and steamboats. This 
; is the “ Bridal Chamber.” In each new boat, 
! or hotel, this is furnished more sumptuously 
i than any preceding it. And, so soon as a 
| bride enters a hotel or a steamboat, the com¬ 
ing is buzzed about, in spite of all the deli¬ 
cacy or discretion of captains, hosts or 
hostesses, all the eyes of all the imperti- 
nently-inquisitivo are directed to tho “bridal 
chamber,” and all their tongues are busy 
with gossip and speculation. A “bride” 
must be rather leaden, to endure this with¬ 
out annoyance, and rather brazen, to receive 
it complacently. Is this an improvement in 
American manners ? 
Regarding domestic relations as sanctities, 
we would guard them from tho coarsely- 
suggestive mystery of tho Asiatics, and the 
no less coarsely-suggestive publicity of some 
Europeans. In England, births and promi¬ 
ses of birth among tho “nobility and gentry” 
are “gazetted.” In Germany, lovers go in¬ 
to newspapers about their betrothals and 
holiday presents to their beloved Gertrudes 
and Wilholminas, and are particular upon 
the wedding wardrobe and baby linen ; and 
husbands expatiato in the same field, upon 
the hopes, consumations, sufferings, recove¬ 
ries, churchings and christenings of their 
ever dear Sophias and Gustafinas. More 
dignity, more delicacy, moro respect for 
woman, have been the rule among Ameri¬ 
cans. Is that rule infringed by the pompous 
display of these public “Bridal Chambers?” 
Brides who do not wish to blush before too 
much company, will be discreet in avoiding 
them.— Philadelphia Ledger. 
Ucti o iiiiitJb ui uuuuiuj^ uuciiiLy, uauii UciUct- . . ' *. ,. . «. 
bio of supporting two hundred inhabitants; p vei 7 ai ' tic ^ e o! anima . commenc- 
and 6,000,000 of a better quality, capable of m S, each morning with his severe labors 
supporting five hundred persons. Accord- anc a£Sumin 3 tl 10S0 ot -css difficulty w ith 
ing to this calculation, the population of the ^. ho P r0 S ress ot thu da 7“ b y total abstinence 
New World, as peaco and civilization ad- fr° m unnecessary excitements, and a sciu- 
vance, may attain to the extent of 4.000,- P uloU3 observance ot exercise and regimen 
000,000. If we suppose tho surface of the --might school himsell to a smaller amount 
Old World to be double that of America of sleep than we ot grosser habits, who rather 
(and notwithstanding tho comparative pov- coai ’t than shun excitements, and seldom 
erty of the land, this calculation may bo ac- think ot taking exorcise until disease has 
copied, if wo say nothing of Australia and take , n us , in hand aad stimulated our ideas 
tho various Archipelagoes,) it would support 2. n tbe subject, could possibly live under. 
8.000.000,000 ; and thus tho aggregate pop- d ! 11 ^ as 110 w , or , d § oes > and particularly as 
ulation of tho entire globe might amount to t lc y oan S °t this generation are going, we 
12,000.000,000, or twelve times the present aro confident that tho majority ot us 
number.” do not sl° e P enough. 
j----- We are too continually “grinding in the 
WASHINGTON.-WASHINGTON IRVING. mill”—wo rest too little, and labor too con- 
- stantly—we toil too much, without remis- 
Tiie following incidont, which occurred sion—wo do not stop to wood and water 
at a breakfast table in Washington, is rela- often enough to mako our best speed on tho 
ted by- a young lady of this city, who is road.— JY. Y. Times. 
spending somo time there. It is a touching --- - -- 
reminiscence: Washington’s Punctuality. —Washing- 
Mr. Irving said that ho remembered Gen. ton was a minute man. An accurate clock 
Washington perfectly. He said there was in tho entry at Mount Vernon, controlled 
soino celebration—some public affair going the movements of tho family. At his dinner- 
on in Now York, and the General was there parties, ho allowed five minutes for differ¬ 
ence of watches, and then waited for no one. 
If members of Congress came at a late hour, 
woman, was very anxious tor mo to see him, his simple apology was, “ Gentlemen, we aro 
and held me up in her arms as he rode past, too punctual for you,” or, “Gentlemen, 1 
This, however, did not satisfy her; so tho havo a cook who never asks whether tho 
noxt day, when walking with mo in Broad- company has como.” No one ever waited 
way, espying him in a shop, sho seized my f or General Washington. He was always 
hand, and darting in, exclaimed in her bland fi ve minutes before tho time; and if parties 
Scotch: ‘Please your Excellency, hero’s a he had engaged to meet, were not present 
bairn that’s called after ye!’ General at the season appointed, ho considered the 
Washington then turned his benevolent taco engagement cancelled, and would leave tho 
full upon mo, smiled, laid his hand upon my place, and refuse to return. Noble trait! 
head and gave me his blessing, which,” ad- May it become a national ono. 
ded Mr. Irving earnestly, “ I havo reason “ ___ 
to believe, has attended me through life. 1 Xo man should be delicate about asking 
was but five years old, yet I can tecl that for what is properly his due. If ho neglects 
hand upon my head oven now ! _ doing so, he is deficient in that spirit of in- 
T his little story was told with such simplo dependence which he should observo in all 
earnestness, that, while I saw tho narrator’s bis actions. Rights aro rights, and if not 
Miss Catharine Beecher makes an ap¬ 
peal in behalf of poor woman, through 
tho columns of the Independent. Her sug¬ 
gestions are timely : 
Has Woman a profession? Certainly she 
has;and its duties in dignity and importance 
yield to those of none of the professions of 
man. 
The training of tho human mind in child¬ 
hood and youth—the care of the human 
body in infancy and sickness—and the con¬ 
servation of the family state—these are the 
distinctive duties of Woman’s profession. 
Is Woman’s profession made honorable, 
like the professions of the other sex? Cer¬ 
tainly not. 
What lady of high position ond education 
would, unless driven by poverty, become the 
educator of young children as a profession, 
for which to receive compensation as her 
brothers aro compensated in their profes¬ 
sions? 
What lady of this class would engago as 
tho nurso of infancy, or of the sick, for com¬ 
pensation, as men engage in their profes¬ 
sions? 
Above all, what lady would become a do¬ 
mestic assistant in a family without deeming 
it the depth of degradation? 
No; it is the great aim of the humble clas¬ 
ses so to riso as to bo entirely exempt from 
tho performance of theso duties, while in 
their estimation the term “lady” is nearly 
synonymous with tho expression “one who 
does not work.” 
With the other sex it is very different.— 
Every inducement is thrown around these 
most important duties to tempt all classes 
to seek them. Although nine-tenths of our 
lawyers, physicians and clergymen never 
attain high places, or secure such wealth as 
other callings offer, theso professions are 
thronged. 
And why? Because they are made hon¬ 
orable—the suro pasport to the first class 
in society. 
How have these professions been made 
honorable? Chiefly by endowed institutions 
that secure tho highest course of education, 
on moderate terms, to all who enter these 
professions. 
Is there any reason why the same method 
should not bo employed to render the duties 
of Woman’s profession honorable? 
Suppose thei'e were now, three or four 
hundred endowed institutions, for Woman, 
as there are colleges and professional schools 
for man, and that there were hundreds of 
professional chairs to which Women could 
aspire as instructors of their own sex in their 
most sacred duties, and that to attain theso 
high honors and the connected emolument 
a woman must be qualified, theoretically and 
practically, to give scientific and experi¬ 
mental lectures on tho three departments 
of Woman’s profession—the training of the 
human mind—the care of the human body, 
and the entire round of domestic duties— 
would not the same stimulus exist to lead 
Woman to honor her profession, and to pre¬ 
pare herself for it, that now excites her 
brothers to seek the liberal professions? 
Why should Woman seek tho profession 
of Man? Would it not be better to elevate 
i and dignify her own? Is there not enough 
! work for Woman in her own profession ? The 
; Consus shows that thei’e aro now over two 
| millions of children who have no teachers at 
! all, while there are probably as many moro 
j under the care of men who aro far better 
| qualified for other callings. 
Four millions of children not taught at all, 
or taught by men less qualified than woman 
for such duties! Here is work enough for 
MARRIAGE. . 
Dr. Forbes Winslow speaking of mar¬ 
riage, says: 
*• Lothing delights mo more than to enter 
the neat little tenement of the young couple, 
who within perhaps two or three (years, 
without any resources but their own knowl¬ 
edge or industry, have joined heart and hand, 
and engaged to share together the responsi¬ 
bilities, duties interests, trials, and pleasures 
of life. The industrious wife is cheerfully 
employed with her own hands in domestic 
duties, putting her house in order, or mend¬ 
ing her husband’s clothes, or preparing the 
dinner, whilst, perhaps, the little darling sits 
prattling on the floor, or lies sleeping in the 
cradle, and every thing seems preparing to 
welcome the happiest of husbands, and the 
best of fathers, when he shall come from his 
toil to enjoy the sweets of his little paradise. 
This is the true domestic pleasure. Health, 
contentment, love, abundance, and bright 
prospects, are all here. 
But it has become a prevalent sentiment, 
that a man must acquire his fortune before 
he marries, that the wife must have no 
: sympathy nor share with him in the pursuit 
of it, in which most of the pleasure truly 
consists; and the young married people 
must set out with as large and expensive an 
establihment as is becoming to those who 
have been wedded for twenty years. This 
is very unhappy ; it fills the community with 
bachelors, who aro waiting to mako their 
fortunes, endangering virtue and promoting 
vice; it destroys the true economy and de¬ 
sign of the domestic institution, and ineffi¬ 
ciency among females, who are expecting 
to be taken up a fortune and passively sus¬ 
tained, without any care or concern on their 
part—and thus many a wife becomes, as a 
gentleman once remarked, not a ‘help-mate,’ 
but a ‘ help-eat.’ ” 
HOW TO CHOOSE A WIFE. 
“ A PLACE for everything, and everything 
in its place.” said tho patriarch to his 
daughter. “ Select a wife, my son, who will 
never step over a broomstick.” The son 
was obedient to the lesson. “ Now,” said he, 
pleasantly, on a gay May day, to one of his 
companions, “ I appoint that broomstick to 
choose mo a wife. Tho young lady who 
will not step over it shall have the otter of 
my hand.” They passed from the splendid 
saloon to the grove; somo tumbled over tho 
broomstick and others jumped over it. At 
length a young lady stooped and put it in 
its place. The promiso was fulfilled; she 
became tho wife of an educated and wealthy 
young man, and he the husband of a pru¬ 
dent, industrious and lovely wife. He 
brought a fortune to her and she knew how 
to save one. It is not easy to decide which 
was under tho greatest obligation ; both 
were rich and each enriched the other. 
I think any. ono who has had occasion 
to inquire, in particular cases, what portion 
of the price paid at a shop for an article 
really goes to the person who made it, must 
have bepn astonished to find how small it 
is. It is of great importance to consider tho 
cause of this. It does not arise from the 
extravagant remuneration of capital. I 
think it proceeds from two causes; ono of 
them is the very great, I may say, tho ex¬ 
travagant portion of tho wholo produce of 
tho community which now goes to mere 
distributors. — J. S. Mill. 
Censure is the tax a man pays the public 
for being conspicuous. 
