MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
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Jfk % Jaims. 
GOOD TEMPER. 
BY CHARLES SWAIN. 
There’s not a cheaper thing on earth, 
Nor yet one half so dear; 
’Tis worth more than distinguish'd birth, 
Or thousands gain’d a year. 
It lends the day a new delight; 
’Tis virtue’s firmest shield; 
And adds more beauty to the night 
Than all the stars may yield. 
It maketh poverty content; 
To sorrow whispers peace; 
It is a gift from heaven sent 
For mortals to increase. 
It meets you with a smile at morn ; 
If lulls you to repose; 
A flower for peer and peasant born, 
An everlasting rose. 
A charm to banish grief away, 
To snatch the brow from care ; 
Turns tears to smiles, makes dulness gay— 
Spreads gladness everywhere; 
And yet ’tis cheap as summer-dew, 
That gems the lily’s breast; 
A talisman for love, as true 
As ever man possess’d. 
As smiles the rainbow through the cloud 
When threatening storm begins— 
As music ’mid the tempest loud, 
That still its sweet way wins— 
As springs an arch across the tide, 
Where waves conflicting foam, 
So comes this seraph to our side, 
This angel of our home. 
What may this wondrous spirit be, 
With power unheard before— 
This charm, this bright divinity 1 
Good temper—nothing more ! 
Good temper,—’tis the choicest gift 
That woman homeward brings, 
And can the poorest peasant lift 
To bliss unknown to kings. 
HOW TO DRESS. 
THE PLEBEIAN, 
[ Concluded .] 
CHAPTER SIXTH. 
It was a balmy morning in “leafy June,” 
when Mr. Snowden set out from his resi¬ 
dence in the forest, to visit the town of C. 
He had become heartily weary of the mo¬ 
notonous life ho had been compelled to load 
there. His indomitable pride was fast 
yielding to his irroprossible desire for so¬ 
ciety, especially the convivial circle ho left. 
I should, thought he, have accepted somo of 
the kind ivitations of my friends, and re¬ 
mained with them; and my dear Julia !—it 
is too bad to bury so sweet and dutiful a 
daughter in this wilderness. No, no, I will 
return. Those, and similar reflections oc¬ 
cupied his mind till he reached an eminence 
which commanded a view of the town. 
None but those who have lived surrounded 
by the comforts and elegances of life, and 
have passed from infancy to ago in daily 
intercourse with cogenial society, can realize 
Mr. Snowden’s sensations, as the busy hum 
of a populous town fell upon his oar, after 
residing in a western forest just long enough 
to feel tho full force of the unpleasant con¬ 
trast. Mr. Snowdon alighted at a hotel, 
and after taking a cursory view of tho town, 
returned to dinnor. 
As the Court was then in session, its busi¬ 
ness was tho principal topic at tho tablo. 
“ I believe it is tho general opinion that 
tho prisoner whose trial is now pending, 
will be found guilty, is it not T said a gen 
tleman who sat at Mr. Snowden s elbow, to 
tho one that sat opposite 
“ It is to be feared, sir, that such will be 
the result, as there is a lamentable deficiency 
of evidence in his favor, though he is gen 
A friend of ours, says the Portland Trans- erally behoved to be innocent of the crime 
cript, who had long been absent, returnod f or he is arraigned,” was tho reply. 
recently, and called upon two beautiful 
young ladies of his acquaintance. One 
came quickly to greet him in the neat, yet 
not precise attire, in which she was perform¬ 
ing her household duties. The other, after 
tho lapse of half an hour, made her stately 
entrance, in all tho primness of starch and 
ribbons, with which, on the announcement 
of his entrance, sho had hastened to bedeck 
herself. Our friend, who had long been 
hesitating on his choico between tho two, 
now hesitated no longer. Tho cordiality 
with which the first hastened to greet him, 
and the charming carelessness of her attire, 
entirely won his heart. Sho is now his wife. 
“ I hear,” said the first speaker, “ that he 
has procured very able counsel for his de 
fence. I believe, Mr. Darling, the lawyer is 
a friend of yours.” 
« Ho is, sir, and I believe if any man can 
save him, that man is Edward Mullet. He 
believes him to be innocent of the crime 
with which ho is charged, and no effort of 
which ho is capable, (and that is saying 
much,) will be wanting to prove it.” 
Mr. Snowden started at hearing the namo 
of Mullet. This thon, thought he, is the 
Young ladies, take warning from tho | place where tho poor fellow has taken up 
his residence — another good reason why 
should remove mine. Poor Julia! sho 
must not know he is hero, for I fear she 
loves him yet. 
“ I have heard Mr. Mullet’s eloquence so 
much extolled,” said a lady who sat near 
! that I envy you gentlemen the pleasure of 
hearing his ploa. Defence of innocence 
from his lips must bo convincing, and even 
captivating 
; What pleasure would there be in being 
captivated by one who is so indifferent to 
the whole sox ?” askod a novel-reading Miss 
of sixteen summers, who had fallen in lov 
with our hero at first sight, but had failed to 
elicit any attention. Tho subject of Mr 
Mullet’s frequent melancholy was alluded 
to by tho ladies, without any light being 
thrown on tho cause. 
This conversation wo might almost fancy 
was designed for Mr. Snowden’s attention. 
It was not lost upon him, for ho thought in¬ 
tently on all he had heard. That Edward 
still loved his daughter, he did not doubt 
Ho did not wish to bo recognized by him, as 
that would lead to a discovery of his own 
osidence. Mr. Snowden thought ho would 
leave his business in the hands of an attor¬ 
ney, and leave town immediately. But he 
found he could engago no lawyer till tho 
present trial was over. Perhaps, after all, 
thought he, this is not Joe Mullot’s son; 
there may be two of the samo name. A 
above, and never refuse to see a friend be¬ 
cause you have on a wash gown. Be assur¬ 
ed the true gentleman will not think less of 
you bocause he finds you in tho perform- 
ance of your duties, and not ashamed to 
let it be known. Besides, there may posi¬ 
tively be a grace, a witching wildness about 
an every day dress, that adds to every charm 
of face and feature. Old Merrick expres 
ses this “ delight in disorder,” far better 
than we can : 
“ A sweet disorder in the dress, 
(A happy kind of eareiessuess; 
A lawn upon the shoulders thrown, 
Into a fine distraetion; 
An erring lace, which here and there 
Enthrals the crimson stomacher, 
A cuff neglectful, and thereby 
Ribands that flow confusedly; 
A winning wave, deserving note, 
In the tempestuous petticoat; 
A careless shoe string, in whose tie 
I see a wild civility — 
Do more bewitch me than where art 
Is too precise in every part” 
TEACH THE WOMEN TO SAVE. 
There’s the secret. A saving woman at 
tho head of a family is tho very bost saving’s 
bank over yet established—one that re¬ 
ceives deposits daily and hourly, with no 
costly machinery to manage it. The idea 
of saving is a pleasant one, and it “ the wo 
men” would imbibe it once, they would cul 
tivate and adhere to it; and thus many, 
when they were not aware of it, would be 
laying tho foundation for a competence, se 
curity in a stormy time, and a shelter in a 
rainy day. 
The woman who sees to her own house 
has a largo field to save in, and tho best way 
to make her comprohend it is for her to 
of 
keep an account current ot expenses.— 
Probably not one wife in ton has an idea I cour t-house is always an object of interest 
how much are the expenditures of herself | ^ & Southerner> an q Mr. Snowden entered 
or family. Where from one to two thou¬ 
sand dollars aro expended annually, there 
is a chance to save something if tho attempt 
is only made. Let tho housewife take tho 
idea—act upon it—and strive ovor it—and 
sho will save many dollars—perhaps hun¬ 
dreds—whore before she thought it impos- 
it with the multitude. Tho largo room 
was crowded to excess ; — every breath was 
hushed in the intensity of interest that gor- 
vaded tho audience as Edward arose, and, 
with a solemn dignity of manner, opened 
sible. This is a duty—not a prompting of the defence. 
avarice—a moral obligation that rests upon 
all_upon “ the womon” as well as tho men ; 
but it is a duty, we aro sorry to say, that 
is cultivated very little, even among those 
who preach the most, and regard them¬ 
selves as examples in most matters. “ Teach 
tho womon to save,” is a good enough max¬ 
im to bo inserted in the next edition of 
“ Poor Richard’s Almanac.” 
Recipe for a lady’s dress. —Let your 
err-rings be attention, encircled by the pearls 
of refinement—tho diamonds of your heck 
lace bo truth, and the chain Christianity— 
your bosom-pin modesty, set with compas¬ 
sion ; your bracelets be charity, ornamented 
with the pearl of gentleness—your finger- 
“ ‘ sot around with the dia- 
There was no mistake—Mr. Snowden 
instantly recognized tho man who had once 
stood beforo him under such circumstances 
as rendered it impossible for him to forget 
the features. If tho sight of him did awaken 
some unploasant reminisconces, they were 
soon lost in tho deep intorost aroused by the 
powerful and eloquent appeal, that cast a 
spell ovor all who heard. And when, in the 
intensity of thought, tho speaker swept his 
hand across his expansive forehead, throw¬ 
ing back the clustering locks from its polish¬ 
ed surface, Mr.Snowdon mentally exclaimed, 
“ Poor Julia ! I cannot blame her; he is a 
man any girl might be pardoned for loving. 
But thon, his low birth !” — and old Joe 
rings be affection, 
monds of industry—your girdle bo simplici¬ 
ty, with the tassels of good humor—lot your Mullet, as lie had known him in his most 
shoes bo wisdom, secured by tho buckles of a | > j ec ^ condition, rose beforo his mind’s eye, 
perseverance. , anc j so vivid was the improssion that when 
ho again looked upon the speaker, it seemed 
At the gate which suspicion enters, love 
goes out. 
impossible to his mind that tho man before 
him could bo the son of that despised indi¬ 
vidual. How, thought he, would my gen¬ 
erous friend have gloried had he lived to 
witness the might and majesty of the mind 
he rescued from ignorance and obscurity, 
and moulded by his own instruction to plead 
the cause of innocence with such irresistible 
eloquenco — destined to be heard by admir¬ 
ing thousands, perhaps even in the halls of 
National Legislation. 
Mr. Snowden closely scanned the features 
of the speaker, as a sudden thought seemed 
to strike him, and though the resemblance 
his friend was not to be found, still, 
thought ho, there is the same intellectual 
and benevolent cast of forehead.—the same 
expression of that deep blue eye; that voice, 
too, seemed to him like his friend’s when 
aised in a similar cause. Mr. Snowden was 
incapable of appreciating the high moral 
excellence of tho man to whom ho wished 
to trace tho speaker’s origin. There are 
some persons who, when they chance to be 
favored with a new idea, congratulate them¬ 
selves on having made a great discovery, and 
are as much elated as tho navigator who 
discovers an island not laid down in the 
chart of tho ocean. 
There had been but little intercourse for 
many years between Mr. Snowden and Mr. 
Wells, probably owing to the disparity of 
their tastes and habits. They might have 
been privately married, for aught I know, 
srfid the former to himself. The truth was 
his heart warmed towards the man before 
him, and he wished to furnish some excuse 
to his prido for the feelings enkindled in his 
bosom. Ho longed to take Edward by the 
hand, and tell him he had wronged him by 
imputing to him a crime committed by an¬ 
other. A murmur of applause ran through 
the audience, and Mr. Snowden admitted to 
himself that any man might be proud of such 
a son. 
Then came the thought of his own sons, 
mouldering in their untimely graves—their 
precious lives having been spent in idleness 
and dissipation. They had been cut off in 
tho bloom of life without having performed 
one act to redeem their memories from 
oblivion. But the sorrowing father saw it 
not in the proper light. His sons had lived 
according to the customs and usages of that 
part of the country where they were born, 
and he saw not the wrong in it. 
Edward closed his defence. As he seated 
himself and wiped the perspiration from his 
brow, his eye fell on Mr. Snowden. Had 
he indulged in any unpleasant foeling to¬ 
wards that gentleman, it must have vanished 
when he beheld the deep traces of sorrow 
and humbled pride that pervaded his fea¬ 
tures. It need not be denied, that Edward 
felt “ a glow of honorable triumph,” that 
tho man who had scorned him as a “ base- 
born plebeian,” should bo witness to the esti¬ 
mation in which he was held by a people to 
whom, but two years before, he had been an 
entire stranger. 
The Judge delivered his charge to the 
jury, and they retired to deliberate. The 
spectators did not leave their seats, for the 
little amount of evidence our hero possessed 
in favor of the prisoner, had been presented 
to the audience in so lucid and favorable a 
light that his innocence was tacitly admit¬ 
ted, and would require but a moment’s con¬ 
sideration — and so indeed, it proved ; in a 
short time tho jury returned a verdict of 
“Not Guilty.” 
A crowd of friends surrounded our hero ; 
they congratulated him so heartily on his 
success, that he begged them to spare him 
in public, gave them a cordial invitation to 
his room in tho evening, and left tho house. 
Mr. Snowden was an interested observer of 
all that passed, and did not lose sight of 
Edward till he entered his office and closed 
the door. 
Alone, Edward yielded to the emotions 
which the scone ho had just gone through 
was calculated to excite. There came a rap 
at tho door — he arose and opened it; and 
Mr. Snowden stood before him. Bowing 
courteously, Edward invited him to enter. 
Tho gentleman [inquired if Mr. Mullet 
could command sufficient leisure to transact 
a little business for him, and was answered 
in tho affirmative. 
“ You do not recollect me, I presume, Mr. 
Mullet?” remarked Mr. Snowden, interroga¬ 
tively. 
“ Mr. Snowden, I believe,” said our hero, 
with a respectful bow. Mr. Snowden held 
out his hand. Edward did not hesitate to 
receive it, and return its cordial pressure. 
Mr. S. narrated the long list of circumstan¬ 
ces that had induced him to emigrate, at 
the same time acknowledging the injustice 
he had done our friend in accusing him of 
setting fire to his buildings,—adding, that 
he was then ignorant of his connection with 
Mr. Wolls. Edward, quite unaware in 
what light Mr. Snowden viewed that con¬ 
nection, replied that ho had not been sensi¬ 
ble of receiving any injury, therefore had 
nothing to forgive. 
Mr. Snowden contrived to pour out the 
sorrows of his pont up heart, with a free¬ 
dom that astonished even himself. Again 
and again ho spoke of tho death of his sons, 
—the loss of his noble estate, that had de¬ 
scended to him from a long line of patrician 
ancestry. Prido had hitherto sealed his 
lips, and he had now unbosomed himself to 
a stranger. Tho thought struck him that 
the man whom he had once so grossly in¬ 
sulted, might exult in his humiliation. Ho 
raised his eyes—the trembling lip and start¬ 
ing tear that met his look, were sufficient evi¬ 
dence that a thought so degrading never 
dwelt in that noble bosom. Tho gonial blood 
of the south warmed in his veins—he caught 
our hero’s hand and pressed it with a fervor 
that told how highly ho prized such sympa¬ 
thy ; he could at that moment have almost 
fogiven the plebeian origin, if he had not al¬ 
ready disposed of that stain to his own satis¬ 
faction. 
What balm to the bereaved heart, when 
the cold hand of death has severed the ties 
which bound us to life, and tho bleak winds 
of adversity have swept from us our wealth, 
and home—when that loved spot, endeared 
to us by a thousand happy recollection, has 
passed from our possession—to feel tho hand 
pressed with the fervor of friendship, and 
see the tear of sympathy flow for our mis¬ 
fortunes ! 
Mr. Snowden spoke of his daughter, too 
—of her filial affection and her fortitude 
under all their affliction and privations. He 
watched the glistening eye and glowing 
cheek, as Edward lent a “delighted ear” to her 
praise, and was not displeased with the in¬ 
ference he drew. After a promise from 
Edward to visit him as soon as the pressure 
of business would allow, ho took his depar¬ 
ture. 
The lapse of a few days found Edward 
Mullet on tho road to Mr. Snowden’s resi¬ 
dence. That gentleman received him with 
marked courtesy and kindness. Juliamade 
no attempt to suppress or disguise her pleas 
ure, and there was an expression in her dark 
eyes that repaid him for years of suspense 
After dinner Miss Snowden dispatched 
old Nanny with tho dessert and some rare 
old wine, (a relic of an ancient store,) to her 
favorite retreat by Bayard’s brook, whither 
she soon followed accompanied by her fath 
er and lover. The verdant canopy formed 
by the interlacing boughs of the lofty trees 
excluded the rays of the sun, while the warm 
breath of midsummer, cooled by the dense 
shade of the forest, rendered tho tempera¬ 
ture of this spot delightful. 
Seating herself on a tuft of vordent moss 
with the brook rippling at her feet, Julia 
thought the place grew more and more love¬ 
ly. Mr. Snowden rehearsed the events of 
their journey. “Wo had,” said he, “no 
definite place in view when we set out, and 
loft it to chance to decide for us. Learn 
ing at an inn a few miles back that this place 
was for sale, and a very desirable property, 
Julia and myself rode over to examine it. 
Julia was delighted with the location and 
pursuaded me to purchaso here. Weary of 
traveling, and feeling that I was already 
great distance from homo and friends, I con 
sented, though I confess I should have pre 
ferred a residence in a slave-holding State 
Edward expressed his admiration of the 
spot, confessed his previous acquaintance 
with it, related the manner in which he was 
first introduced to it, and declared it had 
always been his intention to purchase it if 
he settled in C. 
“ That is a singular story of yours, Mr. 
Mullet,” said Mr. Snowden, archly; “ the 
subject must have been absorbing indeed, 
for you to allow your horse to walk off with 
you without your knowing whither. Pray 
tell us what you were thinking about?” 
Edward blushed and hesitated. “ Think¬ 
ing of my young Missus, I’ll be bound,” said 
old Nanny, with a chuckle peculiar to her 
raco, as she slowly stowed away in a basket 
tho fragments of tho repast, at the same 
timo keeping an eye on all that was passing. 
Mr. Snowden laughed heartily—Julia bit 
her lip, and tried to frown on her old nurse, 
and succeeded so badly that it only re¬ 
doubled her father’s mirth. It was the hap¬ 
piest day he had known for many, many 
months. The joy that sparkled in his 
daughter’s eyes, together with the generous 
wine, had converted in his mind, a dreary 
wild to a terrestrial paradise. As soon as 
he recovered breath, he remarked that old 
Nan was beginning to feel tho air of a free 
country. 
“ And I should say,” rejoined Edward, 
“ it must have had a favorable effect on her 
intellect, when sho fancies she can read ones 
thoughts.” 
“ You dont pretend to deny that she was 
right, do you?” asked Mr. Snowden, ap¬ 
parently not demanding an answer. 
As the father gazed on the youthful pair 
before him, his own youth seemed renewed ; 
how vivid was the recollection of that bliss 
ful moment when he sat beside a loved be¬ 
ing with all a lover’s hopes and fears ! re¬ 
membered, too, that lovers who have been 
a long time separated, can very well dis¬ 
pense with tho presence of a third person. 
Rising, he said, “ I suppose, Mr. Mullet, you 
are aware that in this part of the country, 
every gentleman is his own overseer, and 
you will therefore excuse me.” 
“ O no, father, I shall not let you go,” 
said Julia, playfully catching his hand. 
“Why, not Julia?” said ho as ho gazed 
with all a father’s pride on his lovely daugh¬ 
ter ; “ what do you want of me?” 
“ You have not yet told Mr. Mullet wheth¬ 
er you will disposo of this property !” 
“ Well, then,” said Mr. Snowden, with a 
half comic air, “ Know all men, and women, 
that I, John Snowden of-, County of 
Hamilton, State of Solitude, do give, grant, 
and convey to Edward Mullet, all that piece 
and parcel of land, called by me, Julia’s 
Fancy, —to have to hold tho said granted 
promises with all appurtances thereof.— 
Provided the said Edward expunge from 
this instrument the name Mullet, and insert 
Snowden in its stead.” 
“ May I go now, Julia?” 
Her only reply was a pressure of her 
father’s hand. Ho took his daughter’s 
and placed it in Edward’s, saying, “Heaven 
bless my children !” 
“ Bress God, young missus will be happy 
agin,” said a low voice from a figure behind 
them. 
We will leave them to discuss tho inter¬ 
esting subject of changing Edward’s name 
instead of Julia’s, and bring our story to an 
end without describing the wedding or old 
Nanny’s demonstrations of joy at the event. 
On the same spot at this time, tho pass¬ 
ing traveler may see, through a grove of 
tulip trees, a remnant of the forest, embow¬ 
ered in a luxuriant growth of shubbery and 
fruit trees, a house more neat and tasteful 
than splendid. That house is the residence 
of Edward Snowden, Esq., whose voice is 
still eloquent in tho cause of the oppressed 
and defenceless—his hand i3 ever open to 
elieve the wants of the destitute, and his 
heart yields a ready sympathy in affliction. 
His name is not blazoned on the lists of 
fashionable charities, for his gifts aro dis¬ 
pensed like the refreshing dews of Heaven. 
They fall on the blighted heart like pearly 
drops on the parched earth and drooping 
flowers. His mother’s prayer is still re¬ 
membered, “ to save from ignorance and all 
the vices that follow in its train.” Ho is a 
great and efficient advocate and helper in 
the cause of Universal Education, believing 
it to be the basis of Moral Reform. 
A pleasant circle of friends from C. and 
its vicinity, chosen rather for their merit 
than wealth or fashion, gives zest to tho 
domestic happiness of Edward and Julia 
Snowden. At their hospitable board, the 
plain farmer and artizan receive as much 
attention from the kind hostess as the pro¬ 
fessional man who is often seated by his 
side. 
Mr. Snowden is still living and evidently 
proud of the homage paid to the exalted 
worth and talents of his son ; and when his 
heart is warmed by the happiness and plen¬ 
ty which surround his declining years, with 
the garrulity of ago, ho boasts of his victory 
over his southern prejudices—boldly tells 
the tale of Edward’s early poverty, and his 
daughter’s love—always adding that he nev¬ 
er will beleive ho is Joe Mullet’s son, for he 
is a. gentleman. 
There are few happier old men than Mr. 
Snowden when he takes the little Wells 
Snowden on his knee, and recounts to the 
listening child the former splendor of Snow¬ 
den Manor. The little follow never tires of 
heai*ing “ Grandpapa” tell him about moth¬ 
er’s frolics with the dogs and ponies. The 
old gentleman does not fail to impress on 
the child’s mind tho importance of becom¬ 
ing a man that will not dishonor his noble 
ancestry. 
“ Call you that old rebel a gentleman?” 
said tho Earl of Balcarras, when William 
Pitt introduced Mr. Franklin as “ the gen¬ 
tleman from America.” “ Yes,” “ answered 
Pitt, “ I do call him a gentleman, and one 
of God Almighty’s oicn make.'’ 
Such an one was Edward Snowden. 
A Striking Figure. —Dr. Holmes, of 
Boston, lately delivered a lecture wherein 
tho genius and characteristics of Byron and 
Moore were discussed. Holmes is himself 
a poet of no ordinary genius. The follow¬ 
ing figure of Byron strikes us as new, and 
eminently appropriate : 
“ Fiery and voluptuous, and of a tropical 
nature, he was born out of place in foggy 
England. The northern partlet, thought 
she was incubating a common egg, but when 
her bantling chipped the shell, how must 
her feathers have risen with astonishment 
and horror, to behold upon it the scarlet 
plumage of the wild flamingo !” 
Were absolute perfection on throned, cour¬ 
tiers would certainly discover some way to 
flatter it. 
