MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
369 
A HOME PICTURE. 
Ose autumn night, when the wind was high 
And the rain fell in heavy plashes, 
A little boy sat by the kitchen fire, 
A-popping corn in the ashes : 
And his sister, a curly-haired child of tliree, 
Sat looking on just close to his knee. 
The blast went howling round the house, 
As if to get in ’fwas trying; 
It rattled the latch of the outer door, 
Then it seemed a baby crying: 
Now and then a drop down the chimney came, 
And sputtered and hissed in the bright, red flame. 
Pop! pop ! and the kernels, one by one, 
Came out of the embers flying; 
The boy held a long pine stick in hand, 
And kept it busily plying; 
He stirred the corn and it snapped the more, 
And faster jumped to the clean-swept floor. 
Part of the kernels hopped out one way, 
And a part hopped out the other; 
Some flew plump into the sister's lap, 
Some under the stool of the brother : 
The little girl gathered them into a heap, 
And called them “ a flock of milk-white sheep.” 
All at once the boy sat as still as a mouse, 
And into the fire kept gazing; 
He quite forgot he was popping com. 
For he looked where the wood was blazing : 
He looked, and he fancied that he could see 
A house and a barn, a bird and a tree. 
Still steadily gazed the boy at these, 
And pussy's back kept stroking, 
Till his sister cried out, “ Why, George, 
Only see how the corn is smoking!” 
And, sure enough, when the boy looked back. 
The corn in the ashes was burnt quite black. 
“ Never mind!" said he, “ we Eliall have enough, 
So now let’s sit back and eat it; 
Til carry the stool, and you the corn— 
It's good—nobody can beat it.” 
She took up the corn in her pinafore, 
Aud they ate it all, nor wished for more. 
[Harper e Magazine. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
SYMPATHY WITH NATURE. 
THE GIRL WITH A TIN PAIL. 
OLD TIMES. 
“ We may not hone from outward forms to win 
The passion and the life, whose fountains are within." 
[ Coleridge. 
Some twenty years ago I was an appren- j j)o you remember that green lane in the 
tice boy in the then “ City of Mud, ’ now country where you used to chase lightning 
the goodly city of Rochester. The business j Lugs when a boy ? When the still and warm 
of which i was obtaining a knowledge, was summer evenings came on how thick the air 
conducted upon Exchange street, though 1 NV as with their tiny lights ? Like little 
boarded in one of the streets in the western : stars that the fairies had sprinkled about, 
part of the city. I they went floating around doing their best 
In going to iny tea, I wa3 in the habit of to illuminate the world they lived in. 
meeting, almost every evening, for many How you used to wonder what they could 
weeks in succession, a small, well-dressed. b o when they first broke upon your aston- 
and good-looking girl, with a pail in her ighed vision.' Could it bo fire that they 
hand. At length my curiosity became ex- Lore with them ? It was worth while to 
cited, and I resolved to ascertain, if possi- ! find out, and you set off in pursuit. Led 
hie, the errand of the girl. Having met her j 0 n by nothing more than an instantaneous 
the following evening, I accordingly turned twinkle projected against the dark back- 
on my heel, and followed her at a distance ' ground of the lilac-bush, or the favorite ap- 
that would not excito suspicion in any one. : pie-tree, and then with all lost again, 'you 
I at length saw her enter a small shoema- felt that the enterprise was a dubious one. 
Jfk % idtbks. 
ker’s shop on South St. Paul’s street. I 
subsequently learned that shop was owned 
by an industrious young man, an excellent 
mechanic, and that he was the girl’s hus¬ 
band. He had been married a few months, 
and possessing no other capital than a good 
name and robust constitution, had resolved 
to economize by hiring a house in the sub¬ 
urbs of tho city. 
His breakfast was always ready for him 
by davbriak. and taking hi3 dinner with 
him, he saved the hour each day which most 
Another twinkle a rod or two off, and away 
you dash in hopes to catch this winged ta¬ 
per before the light goes out. Long before 
you reach the spot it disappears, and you 
must look further on. Another twinkle 
right by your side, and your little straw hat 
was swinging back and forth in the air in 
hopes that by some chance stroke you might 
cage tho mysterious stranger. Not quite 
yet, my boy ! Yonder the light 13 again in 
the gooseberry bush. Away you dash thro’ 
the briers, and hardly think of the scratch- 
'Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
PHILOSOPHY OF HAPPINESS. 
persons spend in going to and in coming ) es you have got as you see the slippery 
from that meal. Many economists would j sprite a little beyond you. You don’t mean 
have been satisfied with the saving of so i to be balked in this way, the chase is grow- 
much time as this between the rising and ing exciting. There is the light away in the 
going down of the sun, but not so with the grass. Now you are sure of it. Not so 
young shoemaker. Ho also wished to save } sure yet, however, for while you are search- 
tho hour usually devoted to tea, and there- ing, it rises and skims away in the soft eve- 
fore had that daily meal taken to him by his j ning air, and when you next see it, it is un¬ 
pretty little wife. This arrangement en- i der the rose-bush. Another rush, and a 
ahled him to spend tho whole day, and as \ dive and a scramble. Ha ! now you are 
much of the evening as he chose in his shop. 1 caught, my shining little comrade. No! 
The industrious habits of the shoemaker there is somethiugof a mistake in this mat- 1 ... ~ , c , , 
were soon discovered, and met with their ter; the pretty glow-worm has got off that the expectations of the professed plea- 
duo reward. Customers flocked in upon again, and this in my hat is nothing but a sure-seeker fail so generally of being an- 
him, and he was obliged not only to rent a dark-colored, unsightly hug. swered ; but, doubtless, that feverish unrest, 
larger shop, but to employ an additional 1 What a disappointment it is to the boy’s 
number of workmen. But the increase of heart to find that the starlike fire fly that 
business did not wean him from the plan he he has been chasing, loses all its brightness 
had early adopted for the saving of time,- 
ter content with the present, betrays a rest¬ 
lessness, an uneasy looking about, as if it 
found no serene abiding place. Remarka¬ 
ble events too, something out of tho usual 
course, are looked for with absorbing inter¬ 
est, in ignorance or disregard of the fact 
that, though a few moments of enjoyment 
have sometimes been felt as a recompense 
for years of toil and self-denial, it has been 
granted to so few (only those who have 
labored for it) to experience that concentra¬ 
tion of happiness, as to warrant none in 
regarding with contempt the quiet joys of 
every-day life, in extravagant expectation of 
bliss to be derived from extraordinary oc¬ 
currences. 
Since, then, outward resources, a few of 
which have been considered, are found un¬ 
availing, let us propose a simple remedy 
for this universal ill, namely : that we un¬ 
learn, if we can, the habit of making com¬ 
parisons—of contrasting our circumstances 
with those of our neighbors; it might not 
cover the whole ground, but if well applied 
would go far toward removing the evil.— 
Childhood, before it learns this lesson of 
human wisdom, is innocent and happy ; and 
a few golden natures have apparently taken 
hold of life with a determination to keep 
: their hearts unsullied bv this lore, and been 
The conscious pursuit of happiness must gtrong enough tQ keep thcir resolution . 
er end in disappointment and vexation. There . g no danger of our loging all in _ 
I know not whether a misconception of, ducement t0 progre89 by this casting out; 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
LINES, 
Addressed to Mr. & Mrs. N. on the Eve of their Marriage. 
Take her—thy own, thy chosen one; 
No longer twain, you cannot part: 
Thou, who her heart, her hand hast won. 
Take thy young treasure to thy heart. 
And cherish her, for she is thine : 
Dear friends, sweet home she leaves for thee ; 
The spot where long has loved to twine 
The heart's best feelings, glad and free. 
Then keep thy charge; protect, sustain, 
Each hope fulfill, each fear allay; 
And may she ne’er reflect with pain 
On this, her joyous bridal day. 
And now, young bride, what is thy lot ? 
With cheerful toil to sweeten life; 
With grateful love, to grace the spot; 
Where thou art mistress, friend, and wife. 
With woman’s hand, life's path to smooth. 
With woman's patience, ills to bear; 
With woman's tenderness, to soothe. 
With womau’s love, each burden share. 
Your friend's warm blessing on yon now; 
In mutual love we bid you live ; 
Our Father heard the solemn vow, 
And strength to keep it, He can give. 
Mount Morris, N. Y., Sept. 5, 1853. 
P. 8. S. 
the nature of true enjoyment,—an idea that 
happiness i3 a state of extatic bliss,— of 
I rapturous transport,— is tho chief cause 
this third meal still having been taken to like a diamond; in tho hand it is a dull 
him hv his wife, in the tin pail. looking insect, fit only to be transfixed with 
About that time I left the city, and did a pin and fastened up in the cabinot of an 
not return for about twelve years. I had etomologist. 
a purer stimulus will spring up in its place, 
and make known its presence by more 
beautiful results than rewarded our labors 
under the old process. 
Self-questionings, too, on this subject, 
are to be carefully avoided. Wo are best 
which, even aAer an apparently successful j content when we think leasi about our con- 
issue of his plans, holds possession of his Hition ; no sooner do wo begin to ask our- 
in tho catching ! "Out of roach it glows ’ 1S designed to teach^ him that life has j se i ve5 whether or not we are happy, than 
straightway we begin to grow miserable. 
Sou:^ Livonia, Oct., 1853. A. 
THE HAT.F HOUSEKEEPER. 
other employment for his time and ener 
gies than a selfish devotion of them to his | 
own exclusive gratification; and, perhaps, 
I , r i . i • c a- , i in its active form, that of a longing after 
That we are “ creatures of svmnathv”_ not, however, forgotten the shoemaker, hav- \\ e haven t given up chasing fire-Hies yet. : .. ^ , i o. , , ~ 
a,: ,£!!„?tag, fro m my first knowledge of him, die- We have been in tho basinets all our life.- something not jet reached, may subserve | She was only half housekeeper. Go 
” ' i P- t covered tho germ of success, in his manner True, they arc not of the same character one of the endless purposes of God, in I where you would about her home there was 
of life. I visited tho place where his old that attracted us when a boy. The fire- bringing the race of man to the highest at- n . eit T\ r tasto . n0r neatness. e wou f o- 
shop had stood ; it had given place to a new flies themselves change, and will probably j tainab le point of perfection. Though it is V^Lforo thnueh Other 
brick block. In vain I looked about for the change vet more as we grow older, but there ' __i_,i her zeal buore she g t t. gn. tr 
sign.—it was no where to be seen. I was at ; is tho same excitement and hurrving scram- ; * . * ° ® husband s ha f-dozen new s jits all were 
- - - - -- -- - - - - a i_I . . , .... , . . : hanninps? nq » nc nf micr-rv lio rrmfh ' narfltkllv nnifincn—one wanted SleevPR. an- 
the spirit of its surroundings—is not wholly 
true. There are seasons when tho brightest 
sunshine cannot dispel the gloom which 
clouds our spirits, nor the sweetest melody 
enliven our thoughts of sadness. Our eyes 
are sealed to the influences of beauty—that 
“joy forever,”—and tho softest zepbys, tho’ 
laden with sweet odors and full of the sub- 
tilest incitements of gladness, fail to reach 
our feelings or gladden our hearts. 
-“ We receive but what we give, 
And in our life alone does Nature live : 
Ours is her wedding-garment, ours her shroud!" 
But, again, no storm, no darkness—no 
outward surroundings—can effect our peace 
or neutralize the feeling of calm serenity 
which seems to thrill, with untold joy, every 
fibre of our three-fold life. And all things 
around appear to partake in our rejoicing. 
The sky seems brighter, the air purer, our 
friends kinder; and we live in a different 
world from that presented to our eyes in 
sorrow and dejection. The tones of nature 
which fill the air, seem keyed on a different 
note from that in which they fell upon the 
sad hearts and dull ear3 of weariness and 
depression. 
“ This beautiful and beauty-niakiBg power," 
says Coleridge, in his poem—“ Dejection” 
— is Joy; 
“ Joy that ne'er was given 
Save to the pure, and in their purest hour. 
Life, and Life's effluence, cloud at once and shower, 
• ••***• 
Which wedding Nature to us gives in dower 
A new Earth and new Heaven, 
Undreampt of by the sensual and tile prond— 
We in ourselves rejoice! 
And thence flows all that charms or ear or sight, 
All melodies the echoes of that voice 
All colors a suffusion from that light.” 
We are proof against everything save the 
sorrows of those wo love,—and tho heart 
which is dead to such sympathies is dead also 
to the truest, purest, and noblest happiness. 
B. 
ATFLICTIONS AND TRIALS. 
length informed by a friend that about two 
years previous he had removed to Ohio. 
“ Do you know anything of the circum¬ 
stances ?” I inquired. 
Ido. In the first place he took to Ohio 
hie, and scratched face and torn trowsers 
and final disappointment as at first. A good 
many that we have chased we never caught. 
Somehow or other those we have succeeded 
in catching have all turned out to be bugs. 
A All mo IUOV uiaw vv/vo, iv vuw 111 uattlliliH Him; ail IUIUCU uut IV uu UUHO. r , •/* A._ A __ . 
about five thousand dollars in cash, some i If they would only hold their colors all j . ^ *“ - c PP 
three thousand of which he invested in real would go well. But, like poor calico, they against tho chances of ex il fortune : evi- 
estate near Cincinnati; he has already re¬ 
alized three times the amount. Tho other 
two thousand ho put into a pork; establish¬ 
ment, and that sum yielded him a large 
proft. But if he had not resorted to spec¬ 
ulation. he could not but have succeeded in 
life, so thorough were his business habits, 
and especially as those habits are seconded 
by an industrious little wife.” 
I have recently returned from a visit to 
fade sadly on trial. 
Tell us, reader, is it so with you ?— War¬ 
saw .Veit* Yorker. 
A STRIKING SIMILE. 
A recent Swiss traveler describes a vil¬ 
lage in the Orison country, situated on the 
j slope of a great mountain, of which the stra- 
: ta shelve in tho direction of the place.— 
Ohio, and have again seen tho shoemaker Huge crags directly overhanging the village, 
and hi 3 wife. He is now in the prime of and massy enough to sweep the whole of it 
life, and possesses an ample fortune, and an i nt0 t b Q torrent below, have become sepa- 
unsullied reputation for honor and probity. j rated from the main body of the mountain 
Never having had any personal acquaint- j * n course of ages, by great fissures, and 
ance with him, I introduced rnvself as a now scarcely adhere to it. W hen they give 
Rochesteronian. This was late in the af- i wa 7 the village must perish; it is only a 
ternoon. I very cheerfully accepted an in- question of time, and the catastrophe may 
vitation to take tea with him. Improving a happen at any day. lor years past, en- 
moment of silence at the table, I remarked : j gineers have been sent from time to time, 
happiness, as well as of misery, lie much ' partially finished—one wanted sleeves, an 
more in the mind of the individual than in other collar and wristbands, another bosom 
external circumstance*, mankind present ^"F'Stoni of'“quU^lafunfolded ta 
the appearance of a general struggle to j ker (] rawerS) and her tables and trunks were 
loaded with magnificent promises. 
Her bread was always unpalatable because 
she forgot this or that—and though she had 
been married ten years in all that time the 
table was never rightly laid for a meal.— 
Either the salt was wanting, a knife, or 
spoon, or some important ingredient. This 
afforded good exercise for the family, and 
there was at all times a continued running 
to and fro. 
She was a half housekeeper. Her meats 
were never properly eared for after dinner 
—and then it was “ La ? throw it away ; it 
ain’t much.” Much or little, it made the 
butcher’s bill enormous, and her husband 
half distracted. There always stood in her 
dence, that practically they understand the 
above proposition to mean only that, after 
the physical man is well provided for, does 
it depend on tho disposition whether one 
will be content or not. 
Foremost among tho appliances eagerly 
sought as a security against disquiet, are 
wealth and station : and here a slight survey 
of the field of active life suffices to show 
that a vast deal of scheming and manceuvcr- 
ing is required for people to bring about 
11 1 • 1 n • •*_ uau uiOlitoV/i-uu. a»i^x^ ** t* v -j oxvvvi 
all their plans of pecuniary or other wordly ; must}r . smellin? pantr7 . mou f d y milk, moul- 
I fear Mr. H., you are not so great an 
economist of time as you used to be ?” 
“ Why not r he inquired. 
‘‘When first I became acquainted with 
Mrs. H., you could not afford to go home to 
tea. and she used to carry it to you.” 
“ In a little tin pail,” said she, bursting 
into a laugh. 
“ Exactly.” 
“ Indeed, Mr. W., have you known us so 
long ?” 
I then made rnvself known as the former 
to measure the width of the fissures, who 
report them constantly increasing. The 
villagers for more than one generation have 
aggrandizement; and that, even if fortunate 
enough to accomplish their designs, it for 
the most part happens that the anticipated 
enjoyment is not nearly commensurate with 
the difficulty of attainment. For the most 
favored child of Fortune is not free from 
anxieties and solicitudes. Even if secure 
dy cheese, mouldy meat and mouldy bread. 
There always laid about her room a dozen 
garments worn out by trampling rather 
than use. She was forever tripping over 
brooms; forever wondering why on earth 
work came so hard to her. 
Her children’s clothes came to pieces the 
second day, because they was only half 
been fully aware of their danger; subscrip- j f r0 m the probabilities of experiencing phys- | made ; her preserves soured the second 
tions have been once or twice opened in 
tho cantons aud in Germany, to enable 
them to remove; yet they live on in their 
doomed dwellings from ydar to year, forti¬ 
fied against the ultimate certainty and daily 
probability of destruction by the common 
sentiment—things may last their time and 
no longer. It is needless to sav how much 
apprentice of Mr. R.. and was immediately this popular fatalism is exhibited in the 
recognized by Mrs. II., as one of her ear- ; habitual acquiesenco of modern society m 
liest street acquaintances in Rochester. j th 0 political institutions under which it 
“ But that pail; what do you think has 15v es. Tho cracks and crevices in tho 
become of that T asked Mr. H. i mountain which overhangs our old privi- 
That I suppose, has long since been ; loge-tounded European system, are con- 
numbered with the things that were,” I an- | stantly sounded by explorers, and their re- 
ical want, there will yet be mental and 
; spiritual longings unsatisfied ; effort will 
not meet its expected reward, and, even if 
J tolerable success crown well-directed en- 
| deavor, a consciousness of aims unfulfilled 
will operate as a detraction from the en¬ 
joyment of the highest honors. Again, the 
vain, foolish struggle for social consequence 
based on wealth, or the appearance of it, is 
most ridiculous, and costs fa^ more to ac- 
month because they were only half done, 
and her temper soured quicker than any¬ 
thing else. She was continually lamenting 
that she ever married, and wondering where 
some folks got their knack of house-work. 
“ Oh ? dear mo T seemed some on days 
whole extent of her vocabulary, and it 
would make one sad to watch her listless 
movements, and hear her declare that no 
woman worked so hard as she, which was 
partly true, for she had no method. 
She dragged through life, and worried 
Afflictions and trials are the common 
inheritance of humanity. They are neces¬ 
sary to our probation and a proper training 
for a higher and holier state of existence, 
when mortality shall have been swallowed j 
up in life. Friends must be parted; the 
family circle broken up; the tenderest ties 
that ever bound together human hearts 
must be snapped asunder, and tho lamenta¬ 
tions of the survivor for the lost one, fall 
without avail upon tho dull cold ear of 
Death ; hopes must bo destroyed, ambitious 
projects thwarted, and man be made to feel 
that this earth is a transient place, where he 
is only tarrying for a brief period, ere he is 
summoned away. The human being, who, 
in the possession of an unclouded intellect, 
has never felt tho bitterness of sorrow, is in 
no fit state of spiritual preparation for an 
immortal crown. 
Life. —IBjpring puts forth no blossoms, 
in Bummer there will be no beauty, and in 
autumn no fruit. So if youth be trifled 
away without improvement, riper years will 
he contemptible, and old age miserable. 
swered 
“ By no means,” he said, at the same time 
tipping a wink to this wife. 
She arose from the table, and loft the 
room, and soon returned with the indenti- 
cal pail, as thev both assured me. 
I ‘ '. 
ports are never reassuring; we are more 
and more convinced of the insecurity of 
thrones and commonwealths; and political 
sagacity wholly fails to reveal to us the man¬ 
ner of their reconstruction. Yet we live on 
in a kind of provisional safety, reconciled to 
, •. ,i •. •, i , through death, for which, I fear, like every- 
quire and support it, than it can possibly be thing * elge she ’ wa8 only half prepared, and 
worth in enjoyment to its possessor for it j e £ t B j x (] aU ghters to follow her example, 
is rarely gained without humiliating com- and curse the world with six more half 
promises, nor maintained without truckling housekeepers.—.V. Y. Organ. 
of the most debasing species. Add to this 
its almost invariable tendency to nourish a 
feeling of contempt for those occupying less 
HOME MANAGEMENT. 
Thocgh the art of managing a house may 
need not sav that it bore palpable marks the constant neighborhood of dangers, exalted positions, and the disastrous effects seem at first sight a very simple affair, tee 
of the ravages of time. against which, apparently, we can no better of success in this seeking are abundantly are Ve n r * V , fe ^.]uf^l e n iul'L mL .‘ a nd 
“But what is vour object in preserving guard ourselves than the villagers, can pro- i ' women do either too much or to lut.e , and 
that nail preserving , ^ ^ Qf ^ rocks ;_^ n J ^ . apparent. . wo think husbands generally dislike the 
‘‘ Its associations We look upon it as 1 Review. The experience of mankind affords en- ; worry of over management almost as much 
one of the earliest instruments which con- -; , ^ dence that enlire fr6edom from care is ne g|P ct ’ T £?,f ‘kelp the s^vams 
tributed to our success in life, and as such A Mastiff in Cairo— Abbas Pasha late- ; equally impotent to ensure happiness; the medium quietlv and to keep t he sen an s 
«e shall ever cherish it.” obtained from England bv great oxer- J ^ / olcc far nienU having proied «0 J '» 5 ^ 
I qnon took mv leave of Mr and Mrs II tions, a gigantic mastiff, of the celebrated , , . , . a great point to live alwaxB m tne same 
aod Tbel tatOMtinTxnd h.ppT tail”'and Lvme breed, and the monster was the talk a 0n6 , ' ho bas E Pf ‘ lon S [ €ar3 10 manner as regards style and to havo the 
; . . J* _ _:_ j L i nf tint whnlo oirv nf f! 4 irn ActViA Pneha'a preparation for coveted ease, the most cloth laid iust a3 carefully when alone as 
W'hen this is the 
without its remembrance 
her Tin Pail. 
of the Girl and 
Expectations. —Nothing in this world is 
so fatal to the development of the intellec¬ 
tual powers of the young as what are com¬ 
monly called expectations. Take two boys 
of the same age, and, as nearly as may be, 
of the same capabilities. Inform one that 
he is the heir to a large fortune, which, one 
private secretary proceeded through the 
narrow streets, accompanied by Lis very do¬ 
cile but very formidable-looking acquisition, 
the Turks did not fly, nor did they seek 
shelter, nor put themselves in attitude of 
resistance. They stood still and trembled. 
Some muttered only ‘ W'onderful! wonder¬ 
ful !’ ethers adopted literally the Hayden 
phrase, 1 Our trust is in God.’ One old 
man was heard to exclaim, ‘ Many of the 
creations of God are terrible !’ and another 
wearisome condition of life : for, though an 
individual is rarely so circumstanced that 
when there is company, 
case, no wife feels afraid of her husband 
; ... , . , , , , bringing an unexpected guest; and it is 
i he can find positively nothing to do, he loves g rat jfyjh 2 to a husband to find a guest of 
to feel there is that will suffer by his neg- this kind received quietly ; whereas, nothing 
lect; and, doubtless, a wretched feeling of can be more disagreeable to a husband than 
superfluousness has driven scores of people to see his house thrown into confusion, his 
. 5 ,. c u- u i - 4 .x. wife cross, and his servants scrambling to 
mto occupations for which they bad nether ch thc thi lald on the in 
taste nor aptitude, as a refuge from the un- s hort, everything going wrong, simply be- 
dav or other, must come into his posses¬ 
sion ; tell the other that he has not a six- | gravely asked the dignified dog, ‘ Art thou 
pence to depend on ; but must thrive by his sent to consume us utterly Y I he general 
own exertion— and ten years afterwards expression, however, was, * God can protect 
there will be a mighty difference between 118 even from thee, oh terrible one !’ 
them. You will find one has wrapped up j ' — f-”- -1 - “ 
bis talent in a napkin, while the other has that loses hi3 conscience has nothing 
laid it out at interest.— Blackwood's Mag. 1 w orth keeping. 
pleasant reflection that they were unneces¬ 
sary. 
Another and most fruitful source of dis¬ 
content is a habit of looking for happiness 
to some period other than the present. 
Youth lives in the future ; old age loves to 
dwell on the past; middle age, scarcely bet- 
cause he ha3 asked a friend to dine, without 
giving a day or two’s notice to do so. It 
would be in better taste to allow the stran¬ 
ger to sit down to a meal served as roughly 
as a country laborer’s in a hovel, than to re¬ 
ceive him with extempore finery; for tho 
awkwardness and blunders of the servants 
will soon show him the real state of the case. 
