MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
GLIMPSES IN THE “OLD COLONY.” 
BY MRS. M. W. H. 
No- II. —A Day Among Pilgrim Relics. 
On one of tho delightful mornings in the 
latter end of “leafy Juno”—one that had 
been made doubly pleasant by the previous 
night’s rain — we found ourselves on tho 
“ Old Colony Railroad,” for the purpose of 
a visit to Plymouth; a place celebrated in 
tho annals of our country’s history, and 
hallowed ground to every American heart. 
A place which has furnished materials for 
the pen of tho Historian, the Poet and tho 
Painter; oven tho events that clustered 
around tho May-Flower and Plymouth rock, 
belonging as they did to times of stern real¬ 
ities and sterner hearts, have not been sa¬ 
cred from the incursions of Fiction. 
Our first visit was to Pilgrim Hall, a 
handsomo, substantial granite building, sev¬ 
enty by forty foot, situated on Court street, 
and built by tho Pilgrim Society about 
thirty years since. But before entering the 
Hall, let us linger a moment in tho yard, to 
contemplate tho names of the forty-one 
signers of that compact into which these 
hardy pioneers ontered provious to landing 
on tho rock, a part of which is surrounded 
by an iron railing on which those names aro 
inscribed. This pieco of tho rock was sev¬ 
ered from the main one in the year 1774, 
by an attempt to remove the wholo rock to 
tho town square. Wm. S. Randall, Esq., 
says, in his “Pilgrim Memorials,” that in 
1774 somo ardent whigs, to render available 
tho patriotic associations connected with tho 
rock, undertook its removal to the town 
square, with the intention to place over it a 
liberty polo, as an incitement to vigorous 
effort in tho approaching revolutionary 
struggle, and to quicken the zeal of such 
persons as hesitated to join tho standard of 
independence. ^In this attempt at removal, 
tho rock split asunder, which excited great 
surprise, and was construed into a favorablo 
omen, indicating the final separation of the 
Colonies from tho mother country. Apart 
of the rock was drawn by twenty yoke of 
oxen to the town square; tho far-famed 
liberty polo was speedily erected over it,on 
which an appropriate poetic effusion of 
somo ardent son of liberty was placed, urg¬ 
ing tho citizens to renewed efforts in the 
cause of his country. Such an appeal could 
not fail of its legitimate effect. 
But wo will deposit the trifling fee with 
the gentlemanly curator, and enter the 
Hall: as wo do so, tho silence and our sen¬ 
sations are almost oppressive; we can even 
fancy that the echo of our footsteps brings 
back to our ears the injunction to Moses at 
the burning bush—“Put off thy shoes from 
off thy feet; for tho place whereon thou 
standcst is holy ground.” 
Tho first object on which the eye rests is 
a splendid painting, “The landing of the 
Pilgrims in 1620 .” It was painted and pre¬ 
sented to tho Pilgrim Society by late Henry 
Sargent, Esq., of Boston. It is thirteen by 
sixteon feet, and was valued at three thou¬ 
sand dollars. It is surrounded by a beau¬ 
tiful gilt frame, that cost four hundred 
dollars. In tho fore-ground is represented 
Samoset, a friendly Indian Chiof, advancing 
and holding out to Gov. Carver, who comes 
forward to meet him, somo token of “ wel¬ 
come,” an English word already known by 
the Indians. Thero are about twenty fig¬ 
ures, largo as life, representing the promi¬ 
nent persons who landed from the May- 
Flower; among them stands Mr. William 
White, bearing in his arms his ocean-born 
son Peregrine. While contemplating the 
groups on the canvass, one instinctively 
adopts Mrs. Siqourney’s truthful words,— 
“ Forth they come 
From their long prison,—hardy forms, that brave 
The world’s unkindness,—men of hoary hair, 
And virgins of firm heart, aud matrons grave, 
Who hash the wailing infant with a glance." 
There are in tho Hall some eight or ten 
portraits of different individuals. The three 
Winslows, and that of Penelope Pelham, 
tho wife of Josiaii Winslow, (tho first na¬ 
tive Gov. of the Colony,) aro copies from 
originals by C. A. Foster. If that of Miss 
Peliiam is a correct representation, sno 
might well have been called a court beauty. 
A sculptor might grow enthusiastic at the 
sight of such a hand and arm. We were 
told that a copy of Wf.ir’s painting of tho 
“ Embarkation of tho Pilgrims at Delft- 
haven in 1620 ,” which is now in one of tho 
panels in tlie Rotunda of the Capitol at 
Washington, would bo added to the collec¬ 
tion as soon as funds could be obtained for 
that purposo.* Tho scono is laid on tho 
deck of tho vessel. Mr. Robinson, their 
pastor, is making tho parting prayer just 
beforo their departure. Eldor Brewster 
* A writer in the Boston Evening Traveller, of Aug. 1, 
says this painting has been deposited in the Hall. 
holds the open Bible; Gov. Carver and Mr. 
Bradford, with their wives, form the cen¬ 
tre group of tho picture. This painting 
must form a very interesting and valuable 
addition to tho collection. Judging from 
its description, one must study not only the 
picture but the history of tho originals, to 
appreciate its faithfulness and beauty. 
From the many curiosities and antiquties, 
where all were interesting, I scarcely know 
what to name as being most so ; I will there¬ 
fore content myself with designating a few 
that most readily occur to my mind. 
There were two chairs, one of which for¬ 
merly belonged to Gov. Carver, the other 
to Elder Wm. Brewster. These have been 
much mutilated by persons from whose jack- 
knives tho coffins of their fathers would not 
bo secure, if they offered any temptations 
to acquisitiveness. A sword, a pewtor dish, 
and an iron pot that belonged to Miles 
Standish. A cano and dressing-case which 
wore the proporty of Mr. Wm. White. Tho 
gun-barrel with which King Philip was 
killed, and an original lottor sent by him to 
Gov. Prince, written in 1662. A china 
mug and leather pocket-book which be¬ 
longed to Thomas Clark. In tho same 
case, I noticed a jar of preserved apples 
which grow on a tree planted by Peregrine 
White. 
Anciont deeds, writings, instruments and 
signatures of various persons connected 
with the first establishment of tho Colony. 
A commission from Oliver Cromwell to 
Gov. Edward Winslow, dated 1654. This 
commission bore tho signature of Cromwell 
himself, but while it was unprotected by a 
glass, somo vandal hand tore off tho corner 
of the parchment containing tho signature, 
which has since been replaced by a fac 
simile; thus tho chief value of the instru¬ 
ment is gone. Verily, thore is scarcely any 
punishment too sovero for such desecration. 
Thore is a highly ornamented clock, which 
formerly belonged to Gov. Hancock. It is 
supposed to bo about one hundred and fifty 
years old. It has lately been repaired, is an 
excellent time-piece, and said to bo “not 
half worn out.” Could that old clock tell 
us of tho scenes and events its hands have 
recorded in tho book of time, it would afford 
volumes of great variety, and of tho deep¬ 
est import. The antique sofa or couch, 
which onco belonged to the samo individual, 
now stands near, and forms an appropriate 
companion piece to tho old clock. Tho sofa 
is covered with brown leather, and in good 
preservation. Both that and the clock no 
doubt formed a part of the furniture of the 
library in the old “'Hancock mansion.”— 
Had not the ruthless touch of timo impaired 
its elasticity, the old cushion might bo puff¬ 
ed up with tho importance of having given 
rest to the woaried limbs and throbbing 
brains of patriots and heroes. Oft, too, 
might it have been a silent listener to those 
mighty plans which, all unknown to their 
authors, were laying tho foundation on 
which their posterity aro rearing a super¬ 
structure whose pinnacle has already be- 
como tho “ star of hope ” to throbbing 
hearts in every clime. Fitting indeed is it, 
to bring memorials of Liberty’s infancy, and 
placo them under tho shadow of that tree 
whoso first planting was watered with blood 
and tears. 
In the language of tho eloquent Chapin, 
“ When a man would sond out the organ- 
music of inspiring truth; when ho would 
sweep the entire diapason of patriotic and 
Christian sentiment; when ho would wake 
the land with somo old passage of the past, 
or somo jubilant strain of tho future; let 
him set his foot upon tho pedal of Plymouth 
Rock, and strike tho Iveys of Faneuil Hall.” 
After dinner wo visitod Burying Hill, 
whore, Pierpont says, 
“ The earliest ray of the golden day 
On that hallowed spot is cast; 
And the evening Sun, as he leaves the world, 
Looks kindly on that spot last.” 
Tho preciso spots whoro rests the remains 
of many of thoso who died in the first forty 
or fifty years after the landing, cannot bo 
accurately ascertained. Thoso who died 
tho first year, about fifty in numbor, wero 
buried in what is now an open groon space, 
near the foot of Middle street. It is walled 
up on tho side next the water, to prevent 
tho incursions of tho tide. It is called 
Colo’s Ilill, and was the first burial placo of 
tho Pilgrims. Mr. Russell, to whom I am 
indebted for these facts, says—“ In tho year 
1735 a sovero storm occurred, and largo 
quantities of water rushing through Middlo 
street, washed away somo portion of tho 
banks, carrying in its current tho remains of 
several bodies deposited there in the winter 
of 1621. In the year 1809 a human skull 
was disinterred, the tooth of which were in 
a perfect state of preservation.” It is said 
that during tho first winter the graves wero 
carefully smoothed over to provont the 
Indians from learning thoir number. It is 
contemplated by tho Pilgrim Society to 
oroct a suitable monument on this spot. 
When Fort Ilill, as it was then callod, was 
first used as a burying place is not known. 
Tho oldest stono wo could find marks tho 
grave of “Edward Gray, Gent,” 1681.— 
There may bo somo of earlier date, as the 
inscriptions on some are quite obliterated. 
Tho descendants of Gov. Bradford have 
placed a white marblo monument on tho 
spot where ho was buried. Many of tho 
graves of tho early settlers are rescued from 
oblivion by tho well-directed efforts of tho 
citizens. I was disappointed at not finding 
any of those singular epitaphs which are 
sometimes seen on ancient gravestones. 
Many of the inscriptions wero very elabo¬ 
rate, and somo of them rather obscure in 
their meaning, instance the following coup¬ 
let from a stone bearing date 1703 : 
“ Thousands of years before blest Abie's fall, 
’Twas said of him, being dead he speaketli yet.” 
[Note. —We are obliged to divide this article, 
deferring a portion until next week.] 
THE VILLAGE OF ZOAR, OHIO. 
While in the interior of Ohio, a few days 
ago, I was persuaded to visit a little placo 
called Zoar, the abode of a sort of Commu¬ 
nist or Fourierite Society called Zoarites ; 
and I found so much to admire, and so much 
of which I seemed the first discoverer, that 
I am tempted to give s. description. 
Zoar was settled about forty or fifty years 
ago by a few poor Germans. They have 
gradually increased in numbers and wealth, 
and now number-two hundred and fifty 
souls, owning six thousand arees of choice 
land, are reputed to bo worth a million of 
dollars. Around tho dwellings, the grounds 
are laid out in squares of two or three acres 
each, and all their roads and lanes are deep¬ 
ly shaded by fruit and ornamental trees.— 
The houses aro of the high-peaked Dutch 
style, covered with slate, over which the 
green moss has nearly crept. In tho door 
of the “ Zoar Hotel,” (a very little Yankee¬ 
fied that “ Hotel,”) stood a man. apparently 
a century old. We soon found he was land¬ 
lord, waiter, porter—all. It seemed as if 
the years had been contented to leave thoir 
snows and wrinkles on his brow, but had 
quite forgotten to bring death with them.— 
A walk around the grounds showed their 
neat cottages nestling amid the trees, with 
barns, outhouses, etc., etc., to match. A 
few old men were sitting dreamily in tho 
shade, lazily brushing at the flies, or gath¬ 
ering, with tho very spirit of economy, tho 
few scattered wheat heads that, had fallen 
about. Every now and then a high load of 
yellow wheat or new-mown hay went creak¬ 
ing by, on its way to tho already bursting 
barns. The women labor in the field with 
the men. and their bronzed, wrinkled faces, 
and flat, bony forms, were very unlike tho 
grace and delicacy wo look for in woman ; 
and I could not help contrasting thoso be¬ 
fore me with the painted, flounced and pad¬ 
ded belles of tho city—both very far from 
the true character of woman—but which 
was the farthest, I could not decide. A 
view from tho high grounds unrolled a 
beautiful panorama of cultivated fields, wav¬ 
ing with'yellow grain, and bright green pas¬ 
tures dotted with the lowing herds. On 
tho west a, high wood-crowned hill lifted its 
dark green against the clear summer sky, 
and at its foot rolled the bright river, spark¬ 
ling and glistening in the broad sunlight. 
A dim, dreamy haze, like that which hung 
over “ Sleepy Hollow,” was in the air, and I 
feel sure, had Rip Van Winkle strayed into 
this quaint place ho would never have sup¬ 
posed his twenty years’ sleep to be more 
than an afternoon’s nap on the mountain. 
A sort of awe came over mo, like that one 
feels amid crumbling ruins. There was no 
song of joyous birds—no laugh of happy 
childhood. Even tho winds went carefully 
by, hardly daring to nostlo tho leaves or 
play through the open casements, while tho 
sun looked down on the moss-covered roofs 
and quiet lanes as if wondering at the si¬ 
lence. The world has gono on with its 
whirling strife in the march of improvement, 
but progress had quite forgotten this little 
nook , and it lay like a sheltered lake in tho 
bosom of tho hills. Tho storms might roll 
around the summits, or sweep the plains be¬ 
yond, but they never came down to disturb 
the quiet waters around mo. No stranded 
wrecks of human hopes were an the grass- 
covered shore. Even death forgot to visit 
them. It is a fossil town, ond let none who 
can, fail,to see it. It. should bo guarded by 
the State as a curiosity.— Cor. Home Jour. 
NEWSPAPER LITERATURE. 
The Now York Tribune, alluding to tho 
elaborate and highly finished oration by Mr. 
Everett.at tho recent Plymouth Celebration, 
says :—“ It oxhibitod duo elaboration, evory 
word being written out and committed to 
memory beforehand. A success, therefore, 
is assured to Mr.Everett by such elaboration. 
Wo are due admirers of Mr. Everett, with¬ 
out being able to discover in him indisput¬ 
able superiority over every other writer in 
America, either in thought or languago. 
Tho superiority in stylo is due in a mcasuro 
to the time allowed for elaboration, and wo 
see no great wonder in a deliberately-pre¬ 
pared speech producing effect and exacting 
applause, when we look at the mass of good 
writing in tho American Press, which is 
turned off, written up to twelve, one or two 
o’clock at night, after the toils and dis¬ 
turbances of oditorial life during the day. 
If wo take tho scholarship and learning, and 
public experience now engaged in the Press 
of this country, it will not suffer in com¬ 
parison with that of any other profession, 
tho Senate of the Unitod States added there¬ 
to. Indeed, in point of bold, generic ideas, 
thrown out devoid of fear or favor, not 
polished till thoir native force is rubbed 
away, but burled on tho paper glowing in 
freshness, the comparison is altogether in 
I favor of the Press.” 
Jfar % Jite. 
WOMAN’S RIGHTS. 
BY MRS. R. HYNEMAN. 
It is her right to bind with warmest ties, 
The lordly spirit of aspiring man, 
Making his home an earthly paradise, 
Rich in all joy allotted to life s span: 
Twining around each fibre of his heart, 
With all tiie gentle influence of love’s might, 
Seeking no joy wherein he has no part — 
This is undoubtedly — a woman's right I 
It is her right to teach the infant mind, 
Training it ever upward in its course, 
To root out evil passions that would bind 
The upward current of his reason's force! 
To lead the erring spirit gently back, 
When it has sunk in gloom of deepest night; 
To point the shining path of virtue’s track, 
And urge him forward. This is woman's right. 
It isjier right to soothe the couch of pain; 
There her true mission upon earth to prove. 
To calm with gentle care the frenzied brain, 
And keep her vigil there of holiest love; 
To watch untiring by the lonely bed, 
Through the bright day and in the solemn night, 
’Till health ensues, or the loved form is laid 
To rest forever. This is woman's right. 
So is a flower, that blossoms best, unseen, 
Sheltered within the precints of her home; 
There, should no dark’ning storm cloud intervene, 
There, the loud strife of Worldlings never come. 
Let her not scorn to act a woman's part, 
Nor strive to cope with manhood in its might. 
But lay this maxim closely to her heart— 
That that which God ordains is surely right. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
ABOUT FARMERS’ HOMES. 
You would have tho farmers reform, 
between husband and wife, are more fre¬ 
quently occasioned by this great error in 
education, than by any other cause. 
The brido is awakonod from her delight¬ 
ful dream, in which carpets, vases, sofas, 
white gloves, and pearl ear rings are oddly 
jumbled up with her lovei*’s looksand promis¬ 
es. Perhaps sho would bo surprised if she 
knew exactly how much of the fascination of 
being engagod was owing to the aforesaid in¬ 
animate concern. Bo that as it may, tho is 
awakened by the unpleasant conviction that 
cares devolve upon her. And what effect 
does this produce upon her character ? Do 
the holy and tender influences of domestic 
love render self-denial and exertion a bliss? 
No ! They would have done so had she 
been properly educated ; but now she gives 
way to unavailing frotfullness and repining; 
and her husband is at first pained, and 
finally disgusted, by hearing, “ Inover knew 
what care was when I lived in my father’s 
house.” “ If I were to live my life over 
again, I would remain single as” long as I 
could, without tho risk of being an old 
maid.” 
How injudicious, how short-sighted is the 
policy which thus mars tho whole happiness 
ot life, in order to make a few brief years 
more gay and brilliant! I have known 
many instances of domestic ruin and discord 
produced by this mistaken indulgence of 
mothers. / merer knew but one ichere the 
victim had moral courage enough to change 
all her early habits. She was a young, 
pretty, and very amiable girl, but brought 
up to be perfectly useless; a rag-baby would 
to all intents and purposes, have been as 
efficient a partner. She married a young 
lawyer, without property, but with good and 
increasing practice. She meant to be a 
good wife, but sho did not know how. Hor 
wastefulness involved him in debt. He did 
Fanny Fern,— nay, not reform but improve, not reproach, though ho tried to convince 
that better expresses your meaning. Your an ^ jnstiuct her. Sho loved him ; and, 
, • • i , , , , , weeping,replied, “I try todo the best lean 
desire is a laudable one, but too contracted; but< when { lived at homo, mother always 
let it be as broad and tree as the country took care of overy thing.” Finally, poverty 
you would assist. came upon him “ like an armed man,” and 
You would hang curtains of snowy sun- wen ^ ^n^ 0 a remote town in the Western 
shine in the farmer’s parlor; but to do this, f tateS to teach school. IBs wife folded her 
. A z . ‘ ’ arms and cried, whilo he, weary and dis- 
instead of tearing down the green paper cour aged. actually came home from school 
hangings, you would far too often have to to cook his own supper. At last his patience 
cast aside rich damask : and that lounge an( t her real love for him, impelled her to 
“covered with a neat patch,” which you ® xer Ii° n - She promised to learn to bo use- 
would ■*show Zedekiah howto make,” would lYi’rn l ^. or ' she did 
.. , . ’ learn! And tho change in her habitsgrad- 
monopolize the place now occupied by an ua ll y wr0U ght such a change in her hus- 
elegant sofa. band’s fortune, that she might bring her 
You would know why “ country people so daughters up in idleness, had not experience 
universally persist in living in tho rear of ^- au S^ ) ^ ^ er that economy, liko grammer, is 
the hoiise.” It is because there thev have StUdy ’ ^ W ° ar ° tW6nty 
it arranged for comfort; there, in a pleasant_ _ _ 
sitting room, is tho neat loungo with snowy BASIS OF UNHAPPY MARRIAGES. 
pillows; thero is the vase of “wild flowers” - 
not only, but the choicest varieties of culti- “ Marriage is a matter of more worth, 
vated plants—and what matter if “ the detes- Than 10 be dealD iu meru attorn ^4 eore . 
table sunflowei does flaunt in the garden, But a single jrlanco amontr one's married 
“ Marriage is a matter of more worth, 
Than to be dealt in mere attorneyship.” 
[ Shakspeare. 
But a single glance among one's married 
one of tho few mementos of tho days that friends would serve to show that thero are 
are gone, and gone forever ? It is there that some unfortunate circumstances that gener- 
you will find all varieties of books, papers a ^y prevent the attainment ot that degree 
i , . , , ot happiness which either was or should 
and magazines, the covers of which aro not havo Veen expected. What can this bo ? 
lifted “ by degrees, but with the eagorness From long study on the subject, I have como 
of an intellectual longing. to the conclusion that the grand difficulty, 
This is why they live in tho rear of the ? r that wh5c J lies at ^ .basis of all others, 
r , ,, , „ . is a want of true and sincere love. Nor 
house, because tho home comforts are there need this appear very WO nderful when we 
and not in the elegantly furnished parlors, look even for one moment at tho facts. 
the closed blinds of which attract the scorn Misunderstandings and mistakes may hap^ 
of the passer by. If you would only call, P en between the truest lovers — married 
Fanny, at somo of these cheerless abodes, «r single-but they are not likely to occur 
. . , . ... . ’ where there is a deep and earnest love on 
(as you deem them,) when those blinds are both sides. 
thrown open and the sunlight allowed to Certainly tho sacred writer know of this 
play upon the tapestry carpet, you will relation, when he said, “Better is a dinner 
imagine you are among people of “intelli- herbs, whoro love is, than a stalled ox 
ic . „ and hatred therewith.” Consider for a 
° . moment how insensibly love lightens all our 
It is true our country people need to cares, and sooths all our sorrows. How 
progress, as all mankind need to progress, truly the soverest labor becomes pleasant 
—not in extravagance—not in folly—notin when love is the inspirer of the task. By a 
seeking after tho luxuries of the fashionable * ln b’ loving heart, sacrifices, sufferings, toil, 
world—but after the beauties of the intel- V “ * V eiK * urct j’ t j arc V’ 
suffered, and even coveted—so that the 
lectual and moral life, which aro more beloved one may be more blest. 
easily discovered, moro ardently worshipped Let us look at the marriages as they occur. 
and truly appreciated in the country than Young people meet together, and naturally 
in tho city. In tho country one is alone into a particular partiality tor some of 
with Nature, free to meditate and admire; ^ eir companions over others. But no very 
, . . x , „ ... .... ,, distinct idea of the duties or requirements 
but in tho city one mrgets himself in a world 0 f suc h a condition as marriage is or can bo 
made by man, whore all is outside glitter, developed—and for this chief reason. As a 
and so little pure, free and truthful, that general thins:, all the idea of marriage which 
man forgets all that is really great and good children and youth obtain from their parents 
jij , ,, , and teachers, or from popular literature, is 
and heeds not the end lor which he was „ • ’ • L , ’ 
a mutual convenience, which, by some means 
created. Jessie. or other, must be established. With woman 
this is more especially true; for woman 
HINTS ABOUT FEMALE EDUCATION. being the passive party, has been led to 
supposo — and truly enough — that her 
by mrs. l. m. child. choice cannot often be consulted; and there- 
m , . fore she must accept such conditions as 
The difficulty is, education does not usu- nt themselves / This is a hei . es lot 
ally point the female heart to its only true me 5n ; which n0 woman of a 
resting place. That dear English word, ri ht min / and ^ true heart weuld for a 
home ; 18 no ,V^ alt T s ° p0 . wer j U A a ta T an moment sanction. And thus, with a levity 
as “ the world. . Instead of the salutary which tho ]ad would throw aside for so 
truth, that happiness is in duty, they are muc h business as the choice of a new hat or 
taught to consider the two things totally feathers or tho gentleman for the consid- 
dist.net ; and that whoever seeks one must eration of putting himself into tho ha ^ ds of 
sacrihco the other. a new tailor, the parties assume the most 
• Y a f fc 1S ’ ° dl ^ Ir S iave , n0 ^ ome e<A,ca ~ solemn responsibilities, and rush into a state 
tion. W hen quite young, they are sent to wb ich, if unhappy, can only be retrieved by 
schools where no domestic habits can be dea t b} or the public disgrace of one or both, 
.earned ; and there they continue ti I they jj ow cou j d they have any conception of that 
••come out into tho world. At cor this, su blime ideal of true affection, where 
few find any time to arrange, and make use 
ot; tho mass of elementary knowledge they 
have acquired ; and fewer still have either Of giving joy.” 
leisure or taste for tho inelegant, every-day What wonder> therij that s0 man arQ 
duties of life. Thus prepared, they enter readv t0 exclaim • 
upon matrimony. Those early habits, f m . . 
which would havo made domestic care a wiio conjureYus together ina^oke^ 1 ^ 
light and easy task, have never been taught. That galls me now.” 
for fear it would interrupt their happiness ; ---- 
and the result is that, wnen cares come, as Knowledge, unemployed, may preserve 
come they must, they find them misery.— us trorn viee ; but knowledge beneficially 
lam eouviucod that indifference and dislike employed is virtue. 
“-each to the other is a dearer self. 
Supremely happy iu the awakened power 
Of giving joy.” 
What wonder, then, that so many are 
