MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
ifffr 
THE PHILOSOPHER TO HIS LOVE. 
BY 0. \V. HOLMES. 
Dearest, a look is but a ray 
Reflected in a certain way; 
A word, whatever tone it were, 
Is but a trembling wave of air; 
A touch, obedience to a clause 
In nature's pure material laws. * 
All the flowers that bend and meet, 
In sweetning others, grow more sweet 
The clouds by day, the stars by night, 
Inweave their floating locks of light; 
The rainbow, Heaven’s own forehead's braid, 
Is but the embrace of sun and shade. 
How few that love us have we found I 
How wide the world that gilds them round I 
Like mountain streams we meet aud part, 
Each living iu the other’s heart, 
Our course unknown, our hope to he 
Yet mingled in the distant sea. 
But ocean coils and heaves in vain; 
Round is the subtle moonbeam’s chain; 
And love and hope do not obey 
Somp cold capricious planet’s rav. 
Which lights and leads the tide it charms. 
To death’s dark cave and icy arms. 
Alas 1 one narrow life is drawn, 
That links our sunset with our dawn; 
Iu mist and shade life's morning rose, 
And clouds are round it at its close; 
But ah 1 no twilight beam ascends 
To whisper where that evening ends. 
Oil! in the hour that I shall feel 
Those shadows round my senses steal, 
When gentle eyes arc weeping o'er 
The clay that feels their tears no more. 
Then let thy spirit with me be, 
Or some sweet angel likest thee. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
A WAIF FROM WISCONSIN. 
BY THE AUTHOR OE “ NIAGARA MEMENTOES.” 
LOST, 
dubbed her of the red “knitting work | ready hemmed, whether you will call on that 
rather vordant — in that she had not yet smg little widow with her snug incum- 
heen initiated into tho extremo depths brance, or her fun-loving, though efficient 
and extent of all thoso mysteries; but her cousin, who, sufficient in hersolf, needs 
day awaits her, and sho awaits it unshrink- neither silvering nor gilding, 
ingly. Mayhap somo crusty, acetose agamist, 
Further down tho ruby shaft of my little meoting my unoffending littlo stocking in 
stocking log comes another sociable — less his path,may givo it a kick ot apparent dis- 
agrestical in character mayhap, but full of gust. Ah ! I know ’twas absinthian envy 
pleasing momorios. * * * nerved that kick—you didn t hurt it or mo, 
After such evenings, wonderous bright, we but you hurt yourself, and your too will 
reach our respective homes. Mind has mot a °h° like tho very mischief, and you will 
mind. Iloart met heart, intellect aroused, say you guess your are getting a coin oi tho 
wit sharpened, and thought by thought gout, but in your heart you 11 know what 
ignited. Thoso sweet, burnishing influences abs Y ou - 
_ _ XUah /-.-P i'T-inP Rnm a olnTntra In 
go not out like festal lamps, nor die away 
during the pleasant ride or walk homoward. 
You of that, neat, prim home, always in 
order, with nothing disarranged day after 
„ .. ,, T , . . day, but all torever remaining m ceaseless, 
By the home fire wo sit. ‘-John Andorson . •” , ° . 
t t l, ” i t i +i f fcl vesome monotony, — where spring none ox 
my Joe John and I, and there carry out , 
,, L . ,, ,, , L . , , . , . tho loys suggested by the racketing, and 
the trains of thought m the busy social cir- . ... . 
, , , , . , rolhcmg, and scratching, and pulling, and 
clo awakened. And there we, slow of & 
thought, have all our bright after-thoughts 
and after-sayings that nover will spring at 
our bidding—hut coming only when there’s 
hauling of moro fortunate homes,— grow 
not morbidly envious and repining over my 
littlo suggestive subject. Take it, and go 
. , h J , you to that “ Homo whore dear, precious, 
no merry circle to amuse, and oftenest * . „ .... . u ’ 1 , 
, , . . , , „ . inendloss children are sheltered — choose 
when trying to coax slumber to a wakeful . „ a a . . t . 
J 0 tt aii o rmir lifHo fonf In fi f f hn rnr cfnnF- 
. you a pair of little feet to fit the red stock- 
, ’ Y , ... c • i ii ing. Live no longer for selves alone,—un- 
Don t tell me of gossip and scandal as ap- „ f. al . „ , , ... . 
, . v.- fold tho wonderful maybes that may spring 
purtenances to knitting and tea. We are „ , , . „, , 
... , , from tho bestowing ot love andattection and 
charitable and judge others by ourselves, . ° , . . 
. , °. , „ ,, . , - education upon a single, poor, homeless 
and hence are sceptical ot the existence of 1 “ 1 
such apochryphal attributes, and wonder 
why in this connection they have become 
adagial! 
But my loss ! I’ve well nigh lost my sub- 
littlo one. 
You who but a littlo timo back were the 
happy parents of one whoso littlo feet 
spring gladly and joyfully no more about 
your dwelling,— swelling no moro your 
iect, as well as my knitting work. You see . ... » . , . . . 
“ ’ J & heart with fullness of loy, — turn not with 
by this aberranco what a treasure, so very , . . . .1,. ,. ±L , . , 
J “ woe and dread sadness, it tno little remind- 
CTinrvncrurn rhnr Fmrhnnr irArl’ \xrno ! rl 
A W Air JP RUM W IbUUJNulJN. suggestive, that knitting work was. I could, . . , ... 
„ ® .. , .. er meet you on your way. lmnk not with 
-- „ from among its clastic, soft, wooly fibres , . x , " . ., „ , , , 
by the author of Niagara mementoes. . , , . . . bitt or, morbid envy, ot the homes still echo- 
- smn many a long yarn—closely and firmly . . _ 
T n c m . . . , ,, , mg the pattering of little feet. Press it to 
intertwined and knitted together though , , „ 
„ , . ___ , & “ vour bosom, not with tho amaritude of 
Somewhere between tho romantic maigo they he ! Lucky finder ! deem it for this to - . „ , , 
„ , ' . . , , , , . grief, but with gratitude that you have the 
of tho silvery “box, which kindly mean- you no prize, since no touch but mine can f, . . . , , , p. , _ 
, , ,, , J ,, . m blessed, glorious honor to bo the parent of 
dors so gracefully and bewitchmgly through unravel and draw them out. To you it may ° , , , . , , r ... ^ 
j J J a pure and lovely angol, taken with the 
our valley village beauteous — ana the cir- bo only a common covering to a common . „ . , . .. .... 
J a „ , , , . . , , ,, , purity of its sinless spirit, unsullied, un¬ 
cling belt of hills winch,liko the rich chaste foot!—look you, painters, sculptors all!— ^ ^ 1 
setting of a jewel, surrounds and adorns there ai'e four littlo chubby feet, two pair ‘ '• , , .... , „ 
e ' • ■ ... , , . . , , J . ’ 1 . Despise not knitting work; many a foot 
our wee gom ot a prairie- my rniiiing scarco yet trained to a shoe, either one of , . .. . „ , „ J 
, b 1 ...A.,.,., knows the delicious comfort of a regular 
work! which that littlo rod stocking, when finish- , ... . 
„ ,, , .. ~ „ i \ home-knit pair ot stockings. It is a blessed 
Twas no ordinary knitting of blue or ed, would fit. Call such, not common- ... to fill lin all f w n 
purity of its sinless spirit, unsulliod, un¬ 
marred. 
Despise not knitting work ; many a foot 
knows the delicious comfort of a regular 
homo-knit pair of stockings. It is a blessed 
invention to fill up all those little odd, un- 
groy, to bo sot up, and Beamed, and nar- they may be in Wisconsin, but surely not riate( , inter8tioes of tim and ’ such 
.xrxrl P |?r\ 07Y/1 KAIllirl nAfl fAAfl f\i T 1T1 nPAWWlOTP, 11 _ 
rowed, and slip, and bound, and toed off in everywhere ! 
a day. ’Twas my company work, that I What shall tho finder do who findeth my 
kept somewhat for its prettinoss—(yet none loss ? Is ho somo poor, disconsolate bach- 
tho loss useful for being ornamental)—for oler ? Take it homo and lay it carefully 
my afternoon visits and tea drinkings.— | in one of thoso drawers where everything 
Twas of red yarn-ruby red - set up on and nothing-useful and useless - are all left knee, and chairs tipped back a la Amer- 
“ Victoria kmttmg-pins -although now j um hled together in a chaos of confusion. ican i n suc h free and easy delectable pos- 
thoir stripes and gilt are well worn oft by Lay it in that drawer whoso contents nc tur0 there CO mes not to thorn as to us. in- 
the abrasion of wool and fingers. ’Twas | fair fingers have ever arranged, and scion- cessantj haunting thoughts of tho prepara- 
ribbed <' two and two ” for somo half-finger; tifically classified. There to look would be tion or pr0 gress of something to eat or to 
and half way ’mid tho ribbing was a stripe to know that within thoso depths no “ori- wear> t0 mar their genial humor, 
of pure white. Twas set up with fourteen ontal,” or « bishop,” or “ mutton-log ” sleeve You city ladios would deom such employ- 
double stitches on a needle —not of great over fluttered. Look well at the littlo sug- menfc perhaps qu i te too agrestial for your 
circumference, you see, nor was it in its gestion, when, in unlucky haste, you pull finefingers . But do not spurn my humble 
progress very far advanced; hut could it forth this and that and the other-wanting n tt le red stocking, if ever you see or hear cf 
speak,it some tales might tell! With every a string here, a button there, or rent neatly ifc> It wa8 a stocking knitting for more 
“pearl,” I trow, is woven some gem of joined yonder. Think, when you pull forth purpose s than one, as I have hereby proven, 
thought, some mystic word by some fair lip crumpled linen once smoothly ironed,- i hope, to your delectation and satisfaction, 
dropped. How can I live without it ? Must drop down among the frazed cushions of Waukesha, wis., 1853. elsie. 
I perforce send a sad I'egrot when next in- your easy chair, and forget that you are to ---- 
vited out to toa ? It was my vade-mecum, dino with Tom, Dick or Harry. Look ^ AFF ECTING SCENE, 
my thought-prompter. How can I be ac- around: bed ill-made-counterpane dingy— Lieut . Parsons, in his “Nelsonian Kem- 
compinable without you, my precious, talk- pillows awry—furniture rickety and abused, iniscences,” relates the following : 
inspiring knitting work ? You haven’t had the heart or tho ambition Richard Bennett, when mortally wound- 
Saw vou nover one of our circles at a to care for repairing or replemishing,—dus- ©d in one ot Nelson s great battles, had re- 
social tea gathering : Every pair ot hands ty window, drapery just ready to tumble ^ should bo iven b Jjioat . P t0 his 
swiftly moving; with a delicate clinking down. Old slippers and books, papers and sweet-heart, Susette, in Scotland. The gal- 
go tho busy noodles; round and round boots — obsoleto garments strung about— lant lieutenant thus describes tho interview: 
weaves the mysterious circles of white or places for everything and nothing in place. I fc was at the close of a day, when a 
black, blue or groy—growing strangly fast, Alas! the picture is too dreadfully, drearily bright July sun was sotting, that I arrived 
, ’ \ ° .. - .. , - , . TT Yj j at the pretty cottage ot Susottes mother- I 
loop by loop, on to the extremity of its sad further to portray. How could you so tremulously stated who I was to the most 
pedal destiny. Busy though wo may be as long have cherished such indolent neutrality respectable looking matron I over saw of 
the operatives in a factory, our ideas know to the gloomy state of your surroundings. French extraction. In broken, hitter ac- 
no hampering, our tongues no silencing in- Metamorphose tho sceno — behold all cen ^ s heartfelt griet, she told me her 
licences,-but are allowed to “ wag ” on at straight, and bright, and fresh. There sits roqSed^imeto propwo her w'soome”^'‘ d 
their own sweet wills. Just lot a coterie ot the transforming, presiding genius, tho mu- At last she expressed a wish to see the 
our ladies got into as many rocking chairs, sical clinking of knitting needles coming in friend of Richard Bennett, and I was ad- 
and what, with knitting, and talking, and between the silvery music of tho sweetest niitted to tho tairest daughter of Eve, and I 
rocking, no English lady would dare venture yoico in tho world, and tho prattling of the w °rld unequal to her in charms, 
the triple race with us in this our industry little candidate for tho new, red stocking op enTtt?c-o° orherLffiroom, that wasclus°- 
threefold national. They would, no doubt, growing beneath her busy fingers. As you tered with roses. Her white dress and tho 
pronounce tho American ladios docidodly open the drawor, up sho springs. “Now, drapery of tho room accorded with the an- 
actuose. Jack, what do you want,— do tell mo: I’d g olic vision, who now turned her lustrous 
So far from tho top my little stocking rat her jump up every five minutes than to upon me, veiled in long, fringed eye- 
„ , . 1 . e , , . , J „ .„ T , , lids. Sho hold out her transparent hand, 
tells of a pleasant gathering ot farmer have to straighten ouMftcr you, if I do lovo and gent i y preS sed mine as I stooped to 
friends. In one corner grouped together are you to distraction. You know it horrifies kiss it; and as she felt my tears fall on it, 
our spouses, with idle hands and loud talk- me and ma kos mo nervous to seo these piles softly murmured :—“ I wish I could cry ; it 
ing. Disturbing our gentle minor tones of things all tumbled down and jumbled to- w °uhl relievo my poor heart. She gasped 
come tho high-sounding names of Virgaliou ge thor; if you want to mako stir-about do br ? at £’ an ^ respired with difficulty.— 
. & T , i ta * • n,i b , ,. , “lhelockof hair, quickly, lot mo see it. 
and Bigarreau, h amense and Fortumo, Bel- take tho pudding-stick, for you certainly She caught at it, wildly pressed it to her heart 
monts and Baldwins, dwarfs and standards, aren’t fit to go to a bureau drawer.” With a and fell back. Her mother and I thought 
Southdowns and Leicester, and Shanghais, most luxurious indolence, perfectly happy she had fainted, but the pure and innocent 
and various other generic vibrations that to ho waited on thus to your mind, oven if sou ^ bad returned to God. 
go to make op tho farm stock nomoncla- scolded in tho same breath, you stand back DEiTH ra Childhood^—T o mo, few things 
turo. \\ o, grouped in anotnoi comei,with and out comes tho snowy, neatly folded appear so beautiful as a very young child 
busy fingers and hoads closo together, told linen — everything to meet your tasto and in its shroud The littlo innocent faco 
our ways of nufking butter, and managing need. looks so sublimely simple and confiding 
bens — of our contrivances to get up huge But now you may wake up from this amon g8t the cold terrors ot death. Crime- 
lunches and larger dinners when the groat dream, too dear and bright for reality,- 
thrashing machines came along with then rub your oyes yawn and mako another mystery of dissolution .—Dublin Magazine. 
largo companies of men and horses, to be divo for a pair of wholo hoso, or an un- ---—~~— 
fed and foddered; or tho mussy, greasy, rumpled collar. Take ono moro look at Themistocles being asked how ho would 
pork-killing times,— or tho breaking-up- your littlo thought-wakener, and resolve to mari 7 bis.daughter whether to one that 
1 . , ,. ... ,, . , „ TT > i . , was poor but honost, or to ono that was rich 
new-land times, with their many men and go neither to Dick or Harry s-but make up bufc Ul reputat ion-made answer “ I 
four or five yokes of oxen. Between you your mind, after purchasing a new pair ot would rather have a man without an estate, 
and me, I shouldn’t much wonder if they kids across tho way, and a handkerchief than have an estate without a man.” 
J ' portions as are appropriated to occasional 
What shall tho finder do who findeth my soci . llities . The sweet comfort of which 
loss ? Is ho somo poor, disconsolate bach- emp ] 0 y mon t our spouses know not, as they 
eler ? Take it homo and lay it carefully git down for their c hats with idle hands 
in one of those drawers where everything thrust in poc kets, right foot thrown up on 
their stripes and yilt are well worn off by J Lay it in that drawor whoso contents nc 
the abrasion of wool and fingers. ’Twas fair fingers havo ever arranged, and scion- 
ribbed “ two and two ” for some half-finger; tifically classified. Thero to look would be 
and half way ’mid tho ribbing was a stripe to know that within thoso depths no “ori- 
of pure white. Twas set up with fourteen ontal,” or “bishop,” or “mutton-log” sleeve 
(MYY* Y7 1 the old sugar-house. 
IIUstcIIanfOHS. 
For Moore's Rural Now-Yorker. ~ TlIE ™numont *0 the Suffar-houSO mar- 
ATJTUMN ’ S VOICE tyrs, in process of erection in I rinity Church- 
__‘ yard, is beginning to rise above the Broad- 
by 3 . w. barker. way railing. The monument when finished, 
... . will be an ornament to that part of the city. 
Fading, withering, falling, dying. When ages shall have mingled with those 
Moaning, gushing, weeping, signing,— . , J & 4 . 
O’er tho brown earth swiftly stealing, boyond the flood, the Spot On which Stood 
Hear the Autumn winds revealing this Prison, will bo sought for with more 
Tales Of woe in tones of sorrow, than antiquarian interest. The demolition 
Dark’ning all the joyous morrow. of this building is a blot on tho escutcheon 
In the valley, on the mountain, °f the State of Now York. It was built in 
By the brooklet o’er the fountain, the manner, and of the same material, as 
There are hollow voices calling, the post-oftico, and with reasonable care, it 
There are stilly footsteps falling, might have stood a thousand years—a mon- 
Each some mournful prelude singing, ument to all generations, of tho pains, pen- 
Or some gloomy message bringing, alties, sufferings and deaths their fathers 
Like a band of mourners sighing, met. in procuring the blessings they now in- 
Round some dear companion dying. herit. It was built in 1680, and was OCCU- 
Faiimg leaves and faded flowers pied as a sugar-refining manufactory, till 
Dance around in thick’ningshowers, 1776 when Lord Howo converted it into a 
While the prudent squirrels gather placo of imprisonment for the American 
Harvest for the winter weather;— 1 . . . , .. ,, .. . 
n „ , „ . , . ’ prisoners. At the close ot tho war for In- 
Thus should mortals, prone to wander, I, . ,. . ,, „ . 
Ne’erfa precious moment squander, dependence the business of sugar refining 
But while other things encroacheth, was resumed, and continued till iS30, 01 
Know a winttr lime approacheth. 1840, when it was removed, and tho stores 
Kendall Mills, n. Y., 1853. Nos. 30, 32, 34 and 36 Liberty street, fill the 
---——-- place where once stood this British slaugh- 
Wntten for the Rural New-Yorker. ter-houso for American prisoners. Tho 
WOODL AND RE VERIE. yards of tho sugar-house and Dutch Church 
Morning was spreading a beauty over f now P ost -office] were separated by an Al- 
, ^ r ■ x. l j ■ bany board fence. 
hill and vale but faintly reflected even in ’ ,, _ oll „ T , T . 
mI , . J . . On the 18th of June, 1794, I came from 
poetry. Tho glorious rays of the rising sun tj )0 s hi p to board, lodge, and work in Lib- 
A ll - . /• 1 ... _ 1__,11_,1 _i. A 1 7 ° l _ .. 
fell softly on a lovely woodland retreat. A 
rich perfume was diffused through tho at 
erty stroot. From that day, I lived, moved, 
and had my being in Liberty street, between 
mosphere. Every flower that decked tho sai ^ sugar-house and Broadway, for the 
plain and glistened in tho morning dew, s P ac ? ot '/ ort y V eare -, Part of that time, 
1 „ , my dwelling was on the opposite side, di- 
exhaled a delicious fragrance. Soft zephyrs i-ectly fronting the sugar-house. Then it 
laden with aroma from rosy bowers, fanned was almost daily visitod by one or another 
tho fevered brow. A pellucid stream roll- of those war-worn worthies, with their chil- 
ing its laughing waters over abroad, pebbly are P) that they might see tho place whore 
, , , , f, , .. ■. d , their fathers lay, and suffered, 
bed, charmed tne ear by its lulling flow, ana , 
„ ...... „ .. The following anecdotes I heard from 
reflected from its limpid surface tho ceru- thoh . own i ips _f,. om General Hamilton, 
lian purity of the sky. On its banks grew Morgan Lewis. Colonel Varick, John Pin- 
stately forest trees clothed with a thick tard, and other Revolutionary worthies, then 
green verdure. Their roots were deeply in tb © prime of life, hut now all numbered 
■ , _ -i .t, • ._i..„ with the dead. 
imbedded in the fertile soil, their tops lux- 
The sugar-house prison was a dark stono 
uriant in tho verdant wreath ot life pointed bu ii c ]; ng> grown gray and rusty with age, 
to the sky whence they received their gran- exhibiting a dungeon-like aspect, and trans- 
dour and beauty. Tho rugged oak, prince porting tho memory back to scenes of for- 
of tho forest realm, proud in its living beau- mcr days, when the Revolution poured its 
. ,, . , i j ri r „ „i„„ desolating waves over the fairest portion of 
ty, m tho rich garland ot leafy foliage clus- ,, , , T , „ * • i.- iff j -u 
.. 63 J & the land. It was five stories high, and each 
tering in its top, as tho golden locks around s t. ory was divided into two dreary apart- 
tho brow of youth, exulted in its enduring monts, with ceilings so low, and the light 
strength. Tho laughing aspen whose silken from the windows (which wore small and 
leaves rustled at every whispering breeze, ^ ee P) s0 (bm > a stranger would readily 
J r ° ’ tat-n tLo n non fnv n mi On Din tfnnoc In 
fluttered, as tho spirit loosed from the cere- 
tako the place for a jail. On tho stones in 
the wall, and on many of the bricks below 
I hope, to your delectation and satisfaction. 
Waukesha, Wis., 1853. ELSIE. 
AN AFFECTING SCENE. 
Lieut. Parsons, in his “ Nelsonian Rem¬ 
iniscences,” relates the following : 
Richard Bennett, when mortally wound¬ 
ed in ono of Nelson’s great battles, had re¬ 
quested that a miniature and lock of his 
hair should be given by Lieut. P. to his 
ments of time basks in a scene of etherial ^-, e 0 fl' 1C o window, were still to bo seen ini- 
purity. The light-leafed ash and haughty tials and ancient dates, as if done with a pen- 
crested elm interlaced their umbrageous knife or nail. This was the work of mai y 
tops and interwove their flexible branches, ot the American prisoners who adopted this, 
„ , .., , among other means, to while away the weeks 
as the tender feelings of childhood nestle on and y ears G f their long, monotonous con- 
tho bosom of age. The arrowy pino, deck- fincment. There was a wail around the 
ed with its gay garland of evergreen, shot building, and the yard was fenced in with a 
its tapering spire far into tho sky. The wooden wall, ten feet high. Two Hessians 
.,, , . , , . or British soldiers walKed around the build- 
willow, gloomy in appearance, lonoly m its . , , . 
weeping sadness, drooped its pliant branch- 
or British soldiers walked around the build¬ 
ing, day and night. 
Ono morning, I noticed two of the sol¬ 
es over tho stream. They touched the d j evs i n tho sugar-house yard ; they had only 
crystal wave and the drops foil, one by one, three logs between them—ono having a 
as tears from the eye of sorrow. 
This woodland valo, stretched out in 
1 quiet beauty, was a3 the world in miniature. 
wooden leg. I stopped a moment, listening 
to their conversation, and as they were slow¬ 
ly moving from tho yard, said I to them, 
“ Gentlemen, do either of you remember 
Tho green robe carpeting tho bosom of the this building ?” “ Ay, indeed, I shall never 
dark earth, the flowers and plants of richly forget it,” replied he of the one leg; “ for 
cned to the poetic verdure covering the the collar, “ was my qply home; and 
, „ ,.f. . .... door, I saw the corpse of my brother 
pathway of lite, and tho bright gems glit- 5nt0 tho dead-cart, among a heap of 
tintod huo and spicy breath, might bo lik- twelve months, that dark hole, ’ pointing to 
ened to the poetic verdure covering the Je cellar, “ was my only home; and at that 
, „ ,.f. . .... door, I saw the corpse ot my brother thrown 
pathway of life, and tho bright gems glit- int0 the dead 
-cart, among a heap of others, 
tering in the coronet ot existence. The who had diod the night previous of the jail 
stream was, as the stream of timo bearing fever. While the fever was raging, we wero 
on its surface tho hopes, passions, and des- ^ ou ^ ' n tbe Y ai 'd 5° companies of twenty, 
tiny of human life. for half an hour, to breathe the fresh air, 
.i , , ,, , . . i. and inside we were so crowded, that we di- 
Lach tree appeared as the typo of mdi- v ; ded our numbers into squads of six each, 
vidual character. The firmness, energy, Number ono stood ten minutes as close to 
and unconqucrablo will of tho stern nature the window as they could crowd, to catch 
of man, relying on his own unaided efforts, the cool air; they stepped back when num- 
seomed fitly represented by the hardy oak, 
the rustling aspen, the ash, and the elm (.j, 8 fl 00I . } with vermin intermixed. And 
wore truly emblamatic of the different there,” continued he, pointing with his cane 
phases seen in the variety of active life. 
The weeping willow was as one lament¬ 
ing over the grave of buried love. Man is 
A Gentleman. —Mr. Justice Talfourd, in 
she had fainted, but the pure and innocent 
her two took their places. Seats we had 
none: and our beds were straw, thrown on 
to a brick in the wall, “ is my kill-timo work 
—A. V. S. 1777—viz : Abraham Van Sick- 
ler. which I scratched with an old nail.”— 
When peace came, many learned the fate of 
not, however, liko tho tree or flower linked their relatives from these initials. My 
to earth for awhile, fanned by balmy breoz- house being near by, I asked them to stop 
es, rofreshed by vernal showers ; and then, * n , break bread, and wet their whistle ; (they 
with foliage withering and decaying, timo Y P 001 '-) hue bread, beer, and 
.. , . , a , . ,, , , Yankee cheese let loose their tongues, and 
casts its bright honors in the dust.— j heard from their i ip8 « The story of the 
He is endowed with a spirit that will bloom i ost i eg but it is too long for tho present 
in the garden of immortality—watered by sitting, and too good to break in pieces, so 
lucid stroams flowing from perennial foun- w0 lo aY c it lor number two, next week.— 
tains and warmed by the enlivening beams H° me Journal- 
of holy affection. a. j. e. ,, „ , . . ~~ 
University of Rochester, Nov. 7, 1853. MaZEPPA . — V oltaire in hlS history of 
Mazetta. —Voltaire, in his history of 
Charles XII., says :—“ Mazpppa was a Pol¬ 
ish nobleman, born in the Palatinate of Po- 
a recent trial, thus defined the character of dolia.. He was educated as a page to Jean 
a gentleman. Tho evidence proved that Casimir. at whoso court ho acquired soma 
the defendant, while in the theatre, had said knowledge ot belles letters. An intiigue 
to the plaintiff, “ Do not speak to mo—I am which he had with the wife of a Polish Pal- 
a gentleman, and you are a tradesman;” atine, having been discovered, the husband 
and in summing up tho learned Justice had him tied naked on a wild horse, which 
said:—“‘Gentleman’ is a term which does was then sot loose. Tho horse, which was 
not apply to any station, but to the mind R'om the Ukraine, went back thither, carry- 
and tho feelings in every station. The man ’ n g with him Mazeppa half dead from hun- 
of rank who deports himself with dignity ger and fatigue. . Some peasants took care 
and candor, tho tradesman who discharges him ; he remained with them for a long 
tho duties of life with honor and integrity, ti m6 > and distinguished himself in several 
are alike entitled to it; nay, tho humblest incursions against the Tartars. His superi- 
artisan, who fulfills tho obligations cast up- ° r information made him highly respected 
on him with virtue and with honor, is more among the. Cossacks, and his fame, which 
entitled to tho name of a gentleman than was daffiy increasing, induced the Czar to 
the man who can indulge in offensive and create him a Prince of the Ukraine.” 
ribald remarks, however high his station.” Such is the histoiical fact which furnish- 
If men would square their conduct by this ed Lord Byron with the subject of his poem 
definition, all would bo gentlemen. whh this title. 
