MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
dsteHiracmts. 
WHERE IS HOME! 
Home's not merely four square walls. 
Though with pictures hung and gilded; 
Home is where affection calls— 
Filled with shrines the earth has builded! 
Home—go watch the faithful dove, 
Sailing ’neath the heaven above us— 
Home is where there’s one to love 1 
Horae is where there’s one to love us I 
Home’s not merely roof and room ; 
It needs something to endear it; 
Home is where the heart can bloom, 
Where there’s some kind lip to cheer it! 
What is home with none to meet, 
None to welcome, none to greet us? 
Home is sweet and only sweet, 
When there’s one we love to meet us 1 
[Parable from the German.—Translated for the Rural.] 
THE BURDEN. 
A poor old man bore, panting, a heavy 
load up a steep path. 0 Lord,” he cried, 
“ is there no sympathizing soul near to bear 
a part of this burden ?” “ Yes, there is !” 
cried a friendly voice behind. Surprised, 
the old man looked around, and beheld a 
beautiful, fair-haired youth, whoso friendly 
appearance immediately infused confidence 
into him. “ My dear youth,” said the old 
man, “you come like an angel of God from 
heaven. To earn some bread for my little 
grand-children, whom I must support be¬ 
cause their parents are dead, I have un¬ 
dertaken to carry this load into the next 
town, but, as I perceive too late, my strength 
is not sufficient to bear it. May I ask you 
to take a part of it upon your vigorous 
shoulders ?” 
“At first, let us rest, dear old man,” re¬ 
plied tho youth, “ and then try again what 
your own shoulders can do.” Herewith he 
lifted tho burden from the back of the old 
man, went with him beneath tho shade of 
an aged oak, and drew forth a piece of nu¬ 
tritious bread and a bottle of strengthening 
drink. “Eat and drink now, father,” said 
tho youth, handing both to him. With 
trembling eagerness tho old man accepted 
and ate with groat appotite while tho friend¬ 
ly youth conversed with him. 
“Up now, that we may roach tho city be¬ 
fore file sun sets,” said tho youth, at last, 
at the same time rising from the mossy 
seat. Sadly tho old man looked upon his 
burden, and then beseechingly into tho bluo 
eyes of his companion. He believed that 
now the youth was about to fulfil his wish 
as he actually stretched his hands at tho 
load ; but alas ! instead of putting it upon 
his own shoulders, or oven taking a part of 
tho burden, to put it upon tho shoulders of 
the aged man. Struck with fear, tho gray¬ 
haired man saw this, but to his surprise, he 
found himself so strengthened from what 
ho had eaten, that he scarcely felt tho bur¬ 
den half as heavy as before. And when, 
having arrived at the end of tho wood, they 
wore about to separate, tho old man said:— 
“ Generous youth, you have helped me in a 
better way than I desired; my wish was 
that you should takeaway tho burden from 
mo, instead of which you have given mo 
strength to boar it myself. But now, tell 
me, before we separate, who are you, dear, 
friendly soul ?” “ An imitator of tho Godly 
Providence,” replied the youth. “ She does 
not release man from his burden, but 
grants to the confident suppliant tho nutri¬ 
tious bread and the cup of consolation, and 
thus assists him with his burden to gain the 
end of his zeal. 
THE OLD MAN. 
Bow low the head, boy; do reverence to tho 
old man. Once young like you, tho vicissi¬ 
tudes of life have silvered tho hair and 
changed tho round merry face to tho care¬ 
worn visage before you. Once that heart 
beat with aspirations coequal to any that 
you have felt; aspirations crushed by dis¬ 
appointment, as yours are perhaps destined 
to bo. Once that form stalked proudly 
through the gay scones of pleasure, tho* 
beau ideal of grace; now tho hand of Time 
that withers the flower of yesterday, has 
warped tho figure and destroyed tho noble 
carriage. Once, at your age, he possossod 
tho thousand thoughts that daily throng 
your brain; now wishing to accomplish 
deeds worthy of a nook in fame, anon im¬ 
agining lifo a dream that the sooner he 
awoke from tho bettor. But he has lived 
the dream very near through. The timo to 
awake is very near at hand ; yet his eye 
over kindles at old deeds of daring, and tho 
hand takes a firmer grasp of tho staff.— 
Bow low tho head, boy, as you would in 
your old ago be reverenced. 
Remember This. — Evory loatlisomo in¬ 
mate of Penitentiaries and Stato Prisons, 
was once a gentle, inoffensive and prattling 
child; and every criminal who has expiated 
his crimes on tho gallows was once pressed 
to a mothoi’’s breast, and drew from her 
bosom his life-giving nourishment. But im¬ 
moral training, wrong influences, and do- 
basing oxamples do their work, and trans¬ 
form endearing off-spring to bo ferocious 
mon; tboy shock humanity by the foulness 
of their guilt, and monstrous audacity of 
their crimes. Yet how seldom has one of 
those diroful transformations beon effected 
without the aid of strong drink. 
SELECT THOUGHTS FOR THE ..FIRESIDE, 
Words and Actions never Die. —Man’s 
deeds aro of an imperishable character.— 
Not only are they recorded in tho book of 
Divine remembrance, but modern discove¬ 
ries of science have established a fact pecu¬ 
liarly calculated to impress creatures of 
sense, that their every word and action pro¬ 
duce an abiding impression on tho globe we 
inhabit. The pulsations of the air, we are 
told in Babbage’s North Bridgewater Trea¬ 
tise, once set in motion, cease not to exist; 
its waves, raised by each[sound or muscular 
exertion, perambulate the earth’s and 
ocean’s surface, and in less than twenty- 
four hours, every atom of atmosphere takes 
up tho altorod movement, resulting to it 
from that sound or action. The air itself 
is one vast library, on whose pages are for¬ 
ever written all that man has ever said or 
ever whispered.— Elliott. 
Tiie Lesson of Life. —Wo all seem to 
learn the leson of life too late. I think it 
is tho want of charity, of love to all men, 
which keeps us so far apart, and makes the 
experience of each ono more or less an un¬ 
reality to everyone ono else. How much 
might we learn, even from the poorest and 
most wretched creature whom we meet in 
our daily walk! See how this common 
bond of humanity unites us all one to 
another ; how tho links of this chain from 
tho lowest to tho highest, are unbroken, 
and how wo are reminded of this every day 
and every hour, if wo will but look into the 
faces and eyes of our fellow men, and read 
tho words which are written there. There 
are none so high as not to need our sympa¬ 
thy and love, and nono so low that we can¬ 
not reach them by means of it.— Wayside 
Words. 
Home. —Love watches over the cradle of 
tho infant—over the couch of tho aged-— 
over tho welfare of each and all; to bo hap¬ 
py, man rotires from the out-door world to 
his homo. In the household circle the 
troubled heart finds consolation, tho dis¬ 
turbed finds rest, the joyous finds itself in 
its true element. Pious souls, when they 
speak of death, say that they go home.— 
Their longing for heaven is to them a home¬ 
sickness. Jesus also represents tho abodes 
of eternal happiness under the picture of a 
home, a father’s houso. Does not this tell 
us that the earthly homo is appointed to be 
a picture of heaven and a foretaste of that 
higher home ?— National Magazine. 
Enjoyments. —There is ofton, (says Sir 
Archibald Allison.) no material difference 
between the enjoyments of tho highest 
ranks and those ot the rudest stage of socie¬ 
ty. If tho life of many young English no¬ 
blemen, and an Iroquois in the forest or an 
Arab in tho desert are compared, it will be 
found that their real sources of happiness 
are nearly tho same. The treasures of sci¬ 
ence, the refinement of taste, tho luxuries 
of wealth aro disregarded or forgotton, and 
tho roal excitation of life depends upon tho 
destruction of wild animals, or the manage¬ 
ment of impetuous steeds. 
Affability. —In tho world, he who speaks 
sweetly and with affability, will have many 
friends; but ho whose words are bittef will 
have few or nono. This we may learn from 
tho sun and moon. The sun, by reason of 
its dazzling light, drives away every star 
and planet from the heavens, while it is 
above tho horizon, and is thus obliged to run 
its course solitary and unattended ; but tho 
moon, shedding a soft and tender light, 
moves on in the midst of stars and constel¬ 
lations, escorted by a numerous company. 
Pride. —Theophrastus, an ancient Greek 
writer, says that tho proud man regards the 
whole human race with contempt, himself 
excepted. If ho has rendored a service to 
any man, he will remind him of it ajs he 
meets him in the street, and in a loud voice 
goad him with the obligation. He is never 
the first to accost any man; he returns the 
salute of no one in the public way. 
Domestic Peace. —Tho loss of physical 
force or menacing language we use — the 
loss, to take an expressivo word, wo scold 
our children, the more order and quiet we 
shall commonly secure. I have seen a 
family where a single word, or a look even 
would allay a rising storm. The gentle but 
firm method is the very best security for 
domestic peace.— Rev. Jl. B. Muzzy. 
Society. —Might I give counsel to any 
young hearer, I would say to him, try to 
frequent the company of your botters. In 
book and life it is tho most wholesome so¬ 
ciety ; learn to admire rightly; tho great 
pleasure of life is that. Note what the 
great mon admired—they admired great 
things : narrow spirits admire basely, and 
worship meanly.— Thackeray. 
THE PEDIGREE OF GREAT MEN.' 
One ofton hoars tho quostion, what kind 
of families havo produced men of distinc¬ 
tion, brought up in conversation. As wo 
have said before, it is not always fairly put. 
For instance, when it is recorded that Mil¬ 
ton’s fathor was a scrivener, it should bo re¬ 
membered that he was of ancient lineago. 
Tho families may claim among poets, Spen¬ 
cer, Dryden, Waller, Surrey, George Her¬ 
bert, Beaumont, Byron, Sholloy, Cowpor; 
among tho groat writers generally, Bacon, 
Boyle, Gibbon, Hume, Fielding, Smollet, 
Congrovo, Swift, Sterne, Arbuthnot, Walter 
Scott, Goldsmith. Those men wore all 
what a herald would designats gentlemen. 
Doubtless, we omit others, for wo quote 
from memory; but the opposite side has a 
formidable list: —Ben Jonson, Cowley, 
Prior, Jeromy Taylor. Dr. Johnson, Collins’, 
Gray, Seldon, Keats, Richardson, Franklin, 
Bunyan, (by somo supposed to descend 
from the gipsies, a point worth inquiring 
into,) Moore, Crabbo, all came out of tho 
inferior strata of society.— West’r Review. 
HISTORY OF THE AMERICAN FLAG. 
The first colors spoken of in connection 
with the American Revolution were signifi¬ 
cantly enough called “ Union Flags.” No 
account is given of tho devices upon them. 
They are frequently spoken of in the news 
papors of 1774. 
Tho Connecticut Troops fixed upon thei 
drums, in 1775, tho motto, “Qui Transluli 
Svstinet” round it, in letters of gold, liter 
ally—“God, who transplanted us hither, wil 
support us.” This was the motto. Eacl 
regiment was distinguished by its color- 
blue, orange. &e. 
July 18, 1775, General Israel Putnam- 
glorious “Old Put” — unfurled at Cam 
bridge, Mass., on tho joyful occasion of th< 
reception in that town of the Declaration o 
Independence, a standard bearing this mot¬ 
to on ono side, “ Jin appeal to Heaven” and 
on the other, “ Qwi Transtulit Svstinet.”— 
This Flag was flung to the breeze amid the 
roar of cannon and the shouts of tho peo¬ 
ple. It is said at the time that “ the Phil¬ 
istines on Bunker’s Hill, heard the cheers o 
the Israelites ( Israel Putnam.) and bein' 
fearful, paraded themselves in battle array.’ 4 
This Flag was a red one—the signal of de¬ 
fiance, or battle, since the days of the Ro > 
mans. 
In September. 1775, Col. Moultrio un-< 
furled a largo blue Flag with a^frescent ir. 
one corner. This was the first America!, 
Flag displayed in South Carolina, and wa 
used at the taking of Fort Johnston, oi 
James’ Island. The crescent is the emblen 
of sovereignty. 
A standard, with a white ground, a pin 
tree in the middle, and tho motto “ Appea ' 
to Heaven,” was adopted in October, 1775 
as tho Flag of tho Floating Batteries. 
On January 2d, 1776—the day that gavw 
birth to the now American Army—the Flag 
designated as The Great Union Standard. 
was hoisted. This was the basis of the; 
present day. 
In 1776 was adopted the Standard to be 
used by the Commander-in-Chief of the 
American Navy, “ being a lively representa¬ 
tion of a rattlesnake in the middle, in tho 
attitude of striking.” Underneath were 
tho words, “ Don't tread on me.” 
Tho samo year the Cruisers of the Colo¬ 
ny of Massachusetts hosted a white Flag., 
with a green pine tree, and the motto—. 
“ Appeal to Heaven.” 
Juno 14th, 1777, Congress passed the fol ■ 
lowing resolution: 
Resolved, That tho Flag of the Thirteen 
United States be thirteen stripes, alternate 
red and white ; that the Union be thirteei 
stars, white in a blue field, representing:! 
new Constitution. 
This was the origin of the National Flag 
of the United States—the glorious “Star:: 
and Stripes ’—which has proudly waved 
since that day, over many of tho greates i 
victories of modern times; that stirs th ) 
blood of every true-hearted citizen, when > 
over or wherever ho beholds it floating ii, 
the breezo ; that waves in every part of th » 
world, and that is everywhere respected oi, 
sea and on shore. 
The above resolution was made public 
September 3d, 1777. According to Col 
Trumbull, the Flag made in pursuance o 
it was first used at the surrender of Bur 
goyne, Oct. 17th of tho same yoar. Thi;, 
was a glorious beginning, truly, for that wac 
one of tho most important victories of th<» 
American Arms during tho Revolution. 
The first change in tho National Color * 
was directed in the following enactment o ] 
Congress, adopted Jan. 13th, 1794 : 
“ Be it enacted <j*e., That from and afteu 
tho first day of May, 1795, tho Flag of th<; 
United States be fifteen Stripes, alternat | 
red and white. That tho Union be fifteen 
Stars, white, in a bluo field.” 
This was the Flag of tho United States* 
during tho war of 1812-14. 
In 1798 tho Flag of the United States 
was again altered. On tho suggestion o i 
the Hon. Mr. Wendover, of this Stato, : , 
roturn was made to the thirteen stripes ; a>» 
it was anticipated that tho Flag would be • 
come unwieldy if a stripe was added on th' > 
admission of each State ; and moreover, bv 
tho plan proposed, the Union of the oh j 
Thirteen States, as well as tho number o : 
States comprising the existing Union, wouk 
bo presented by tho .Flag of tho United. 
States. Mr. W. also proposed tho arrange¬ 
ment of tho Stars of tho Union into tho form 
of a single Star. 
The Resolutions of 1818 were as follows x 
“ Resolved, That from and after the fourth 
day of July next, the Flag of tho Unitod 
States be thirteen horizontal stripes, alter¬ 
nate red and white. That tho Union be? 
twenty stars, white in a blue field. 
“And that, on tho admission of anov) 
Stato into the Union, one Star be added t < 
the Union of tho Flag ; and that such addi. 
tion shall take effect on tho fourth day o i 
July succeeding such admission.” 
The Flag planted on the National Palac j 
in tho city of Moxico had thirty Stars in th | 
Union. It is now depositd in tho De< 
partment of Stato at Washington. 
The Union of tho Flag of tho Unite I 
States now contains thirty-one Stars.— AIL, 
Express. 
There once livod a strong and vigorou ) 
man. His powerful arm had ofton wielde I 
the axe, the sickle, and tho scythe. II ! 
cleared away the forest, tilled tho soil, an | 
created plenty and comfort around his man 
sion. But old ago paralizod his strengtl | 
and sickness confined him to his couch. " I t 
a lonely room, in his onco happy mansio: , 
ho lies unnoticed and unattended. Ho ha i 
sons and daughters, to oach of whom he ha> { 
given tho earnings of a thousand days, afte t 
they had arrived to man and womanhood 
But his labors wore no longer servicablo t \ 
them — so he lingered, solitary and alone j 
and died neglected, and is forgotton. 
Reader, wouldst thou know alike history < 
look around thy own neighborhood, and! 
notice the condition of the aged and infirm. 
Jot % JMh, 
WHY DO I LOVE HER] 
Wiiy do I love her ?—I cannot well answer, 
Except in a negative way; 
It is not because she is famed as a dancer, 
And trips o'er the floor like a fay; 
Nor is it because that she warbles so sweetly, 
While touching the tuneful guitar; 
’Tis not that she dresses with taste and so neatly— 
’Tis something more exquisite far. 
Why do I love her ?—’Tis uot that her beauty 
Is equalled alone by her worth ; 
’Tis not that in filial affection and duty 
She has not an equal on earth; • 
Nor is it because she has genius and talents, 
With all that the schools can instil 
A rich cultured intellect, fancy to balance_ 
’Tis something more exquisite still. 
Why do I love her ?—because I have reason 
To know that her heart is an urn, 
Where purest affection, a stranger to treason, 
Will warmly and brillantly burn. 
Because she will love with as fervent devotion 
As glows in a seraph above; 
Because she’s alive to each tender emotion— 
I love her because she can love. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
UNITY OF FEELING BETWEEN HUSBAND 
AND WIFE. 
The fireside is ofton a scene of unpleas¬ 
antness from tho very fact that there is not 
that unity of feeling existing between hus¬ 
band and wife that is necessary to make 
home pleasant, and tho marriage relation 
what it was intended to be. When a man 
takes unto himself the companion of his 
choice — the one that is to be his partner 
through lifo—it is the mutual agreement, or 
rather ought to be, that they bo helpers one 
of the other — sharers in each others joys 
and sorrows. YVhon this union takes place 
“ thoy aro no more twain, but one flesh;’ ; 
hence they should become of one mind—be 
governed by one and the same principle, 
and bo “all things” to each other. Tho 
welfare of the ono should bo the welfare of 
both. No selfish motives should be propa¬ 
gated,— both should bo free to act, free to 
think, and free to converse with each other 
upon every thing connected with the pros¬ 
perity of either. By thus entering into this 
bond of union two aro brought into one,— 
and consequently the two should act and 
work together with the samo zeal and good 
feeling for each other, as either did for 
themselves while in a state of celibacy. 
There should be no secrets between hus¬ 
band and wife; for since the wife has been 
taken into partnership, she, of course, has 
an equal interest in tho “concern;” and 
has a right to put such questions to her 
husband in relation to the “standing af¬ 
fairs ” as she desires; and if the husband is 
what ho ought to be, satisfactory answers 
will be given. This is one of tho principal 
causes why thore is disunity and unpleas¬ 
antness between husband and wife — the 
latter is kept from knowing that which she 
has a right to know. The husband who is 
not willing to make a confidant of a faithful 
and deserving wife, is not entitled to the 
name of husband. For who, more than she, 
is deserving of confidence? Did the hus¬ 
band more generally consult with his inter¬ 
ested and care-taking companion, and ask 
her advice in matters pertaining to the 
management of a family, there is sufficient 
reason to believe that a greater degree of 
prosperity and happiness would attend the 
married pair in their connubial journey. 
It is necessary that there should be unity 
of feeling between husband and wife, and 
that thero should bo confidence reposed in 
each other,— for the journoy of lifo cannot 
otherwise be mado pleasant and cheerful. 
Long years aro passed by many in the con¬ 
nubial state, who do not, in reality know 
what the real, sold enjoyments of a wedded 
life are—do not know what they may bo.— 
And why ? Because thero seems to bo a 
barrier between the two*joined together, 
which noither will condescend to step over 
or brake down ; hence the common ago of 
man is often livod out by many of our fel¬ 
low creatures without having experienced 
tho sweets of domestic felicity. 
Man and woman wero created and placed 
hero for each other — to enjoy this life 
together; and of courso thero aro many 
that do, in reality, enjoy it. The marriage 
stato has tho sanction of our Heavenly 
Father, and thoso who havo pledged them¬ 
selves to live together as husband and wife, 
fall far short of their obligations unless they 
fulfill to each other tho duties binding upon 
them in the marriage relation. “ They 
twain shall be one flesh ;” henco if man and 
woman become joined together, and have 
pledged their love and fidelity to each other 
before God, they ought to walk very cir¬ 
cumspectly in such relation to be deserving- 
ly called “one flesh.” Would it not be well 
for many who aro traveling on in the con¬ 
nubial stato, to look around their own fire¬ 
sides and see if there is that unity and good 
fooling existing which is necessary to make 
home cheerful and lifo desirable ? In order 
i to have love and unity maintained in the 
married state, a spirit of condescension 
must be manifested by both husband and 
wife — both must yield to. each others do- 
sires and wishes; otherwise all will not be 
calm and sunshine. 
Reader, if thou art a husband, or a wife, 
study to know thyself; and endeavor if 
possible to ascertain whother thou art in tho 
right or in the wrong. If we will but do our 
duty—fulfill our obligations to each other, 
we may all live happily together, and jour¬ 
ney on in peace and quiet. 
August, 1853. ALBERT TODD. 
FROM EARTH TO HEAVEN. 
The crawling clock-hands told tho hour 
of night, and the Death Angel spread his 
dark wings, shadowing my little, meek, suf¬ 
fering Nellie. A smile, tho “ signet ring of 
Heaven,” lit up her face, as she opened her 
eyes upon me once again. “ Mamma, when 
Nellio is dead, don’t forget to plant that 
snow-drop on horgravo beside little Willy’s. 
And remember, mamma, your two little 
blossoms will look down upon you, and bo 
yours just the same in Heaven.” 
These were the last sweet words. No 
struggle marked the exit of the freed spirit, 
and as dark shadows stolo across that face, 
removing the smile of Heaven that rested 
there, I closed tho onco bright, laughing 
eyes, — folded tho fair hands upon hor 
breast,— straightened the wax-liko limbs, 
and then sat down to sorrow for tho dead. 
No ! not to sorrow, for, transplanted in the 
“heavenly gardens,” purer and happier 
seraphs wero my little blossoms, guarded 
by a Father’s fostering care. I could not 
but contrast my present anguish with my 
uncontrollable, fearful agony, whon I felt 
that little Willy, my eldest born, must die. 
Now my grief was calm ; then my wicked 
heart uprose at the decree; now I meekly 
kissed the rod of affliction ; then I denounc¬ 
ed the author of my sorrows. 
Three weeks ago, and even as o’er my 
littlo Nellie’s couch, I stood beside my Wil¬ 
ly. Not lying pale and still, but tossing in 
fever and delirium, my other littlo cherub 
lay dying. His expressive eyes, all blood¬ 
shot and wild, no longer rested lovingly 
upon me : his “fair, clustering curls,” ever 
my delight, wero matted now and in disor¬ 
der ; to my passionate call, he gave no re¬ 
ply. Reason had fled from her throne— 
tho shaft from tho Destroyer sped, and dy¬ 
ing he knew me, recognized mo not. My 
stricken heart rebelled, my lips murmurod, 
“ I will not give him up,” and I strained 
my little Nellie to my aching breast, and 
bade defiance to death, and his minions 
dread. 
And now that shadow had fallen again. 
“Unannounced and unattended,” the grim 
visitor had entered my dwelling, and sum¬ 
moned my only remaining blossom home, 
to meet Willy. Yet my grief found a vent 
in sinful murmurings; my heart bowed un¬ 
der the chastening stroke, and my lips ut¬ 
tered, “so best, so best.” Calmly I laid 
that little beauteous babe besido my other 
blossom, and tho same snow drop droops 
its head over thoso two littlo graves, in 
which my hopes lie buried. Yet at night, 
in the still, dark hours, those seraph voices 
call from out their star-lit homo,—“ Wo 
may not come to you, but you can come to 
us.” Aye! a sad and bitter lesson was 
mine, and although now a lonely and sad- 
doned woman, my eyes look up and seem 
to see those angel forms, and my lips in joy 
and gratitude, respond, — “ God grant it.” 
Maggie. 
MARRIAGE COMPARED WITH CELIBACY. 
Marriage is a school and exercise of vir¬ 
tue ; and though marriago hath cares, yet 
single life hath desires, which aro more 
troublesome and more dangerous, and often 
end in sin; while thacares aro but exercises 
of piety ; and therefore, if the single life 
hath more privacy of devotion, yet mar¬ 
riage hath more variety of it, and is an ex¬ 
ercise of more graces. Marriage is tho 
proper scene of piety and patience, of the 
duty of parents and the charity of relations : 
here kindness is spread abroad, and love is 
united and mado firm as a centre. Mar¬ 
riage is the nursery of Heaven. The virgin 
sends prayers to God; but she carries but 
ono soul to Him; but tho state of her mar¬ 
riage fills up the numbers of the elect, and 
hath in it tho labor of love, and tho delica¬ 
cies of friendship, tho blessings of socciety, 
and the union of hearts and hands. It 
hath in it more safety than the single life ; 
it hath more care, it is more merry and 
more sad ; is fuller of sorrows and fullor of 
joys; it lies under more burdens, but is 
supported by all the strength of love and 
charity, which makes those burdens delight¬ 
ful. Marriage is tho mother of tho world, 
and preserves kingdoms, and fills cities, and 
churches, and heaven itsef, and is that state 
of good things to which God hath designed 
the present constitution of the world.— 
Bishop Taylor. 
A good inclination is but the first rude 
draught of virtue; but tho finishing strokes 
are from tho will; which if well disposed, 
will by degrees perfect; if ill disposed, will 
by tho suporinduction of ill habits, quickly 
deface it.— South. 
