MOOKE’S EUEAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGEICULTUEAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
MAY 3, 
HaMlS' Iflpt-ffllifl, 
CONDUCTED BY AZIDE. 
OUR CHIDDHOOD. 
BY GKORGE D. PRKNTICK. 
Tis sad—yet sweet—to listen 
To the soft wind’s gentle swell, 
And think we hear the music 
Our children knew so well: 
To gaze out on the even, 
And the boundless fields of air, 
And feel again our boyish wish 
To roam like angels there ! 
There are many dreams of gladness 
That cling around the past 
And from the tomb of feeling 
Old thoughts come thronging fast— 
The forms we loved so dearly, 
In the happy days now gone, 
The beautiful and lovely, 
So fair to look upon. 
Those bright and lovely maidens 
Who seemed so formed for bliss, 
Too glorious and too heavenly 
For such a world as this ! 
Whose soft dark eyes seemed swimming 
In a sea of liquid light, 
And wftbse locks of gold were streaming 
O’er brows so sunny bright. 
Whose smiles were like the sunshine 
In the spring-time of the year— 
Like changeful gleams of April 
They followed every tear ! 
They have passed—like hope—away— 
All their loveliness has fled— 
Oh 1 many a heart is mourning 
That they are with the dead. 
Like the bright buds of summer 
They have fallen from the stem— 
Yet oh—it is a lovely death 
To fade from earth like them ! 
And yet—the thought is saddening 
To muse on such as they— 
And feel that all the beautiful, 
Are passing fast away 1 
That the fair ones whom we love 
Grow to each loving breast, 
Like tendrils of the clinging vine ; 
Then perish where they rest. 
And can we but think of these 
In ti e soft and gentle spring, 
When the trees are waving o’er us, 
And the flowers are blossoming 1 
For we know that winter’s coming 
With his cold and stormy sky— 
And the glorious beauty around us 
Is blooming but to die ! 
in and English ? A note from Flora ! And in 
what way has she fulfilled her mission ? Re¬ 
sisting all obstacles, her course has been ever 
onward, and she has attained honor as a stu¬ 
dent. Having chosen a vocation that will fas¬ 
ten her attention on the studies which were her 
ambition through years of toil, she is leading 
others in the path to the Temple of Science.— 
Success crown thee Flora. 
How a precious note with its seal, a tiny sil¬ 
ver rose-bud, stirs the heart’s deepest emotions 
and forces sad tear drops from their fount. It whpn the fond mother presgeg t] ' e babe to her breast ground ; while another reads witli joyful hearts, The insufficiency of mere wealth to confer 
is signed—the dearest name to mortals given— And husheg and soot he.s the young prattler to rest; ’ Y et tcai 'ful eyes, that their only child, whom happiness, is strikingly illustrated iu the life of 
Mary. After reference to her delicate health, She is doubly repaid for her vigils the while, they had given up to die, and as the.last fond Nathan Myers Rothschild, the Jew, who died 
and the fear that she may never return to When her infant looks up with a cheek-dimpled smile. work of love, had sent her to breathe the life- iu London some years ago, “one of the most 
school, she says, will you not sometimes think When the father presents to his dearly loved boy, giving airs of Eastern climes, was returning to devoted worshipers that ever laid a withered 
of your absent friend ? Fairest star in the gal- A £ ift whioh infuses his young heart with joy, her home with a hue of health upon her cheek, soul on the altar of mammoo,” For years he 
axy of our school-girl group, brightest link in All trembling he graspsxt, then stammers awhile, and new life and strength. wielded the purse of the world open in" and 
,, i . But words proving traitors, he only can smile. TT ,. aal . b ,, , , U) openiii 0 aiiu 
the golden chain of friendship, how could we How little does the world without, whose closing it to kings and emperors as he listed, 
ever forget? We loved her almost to adoration, ^angel'to^ S reat e Y e lo oks only upon outward life, and and upon certain occasions was supposed to 
too far forgetting the Giver in our worship of To relieve their distress, and their sorrows beguile, whose heart beats only in sympathy with the have more influence in Great Britain than the 
the gift. Ah, how mournful the impressive Their tears choke their utterance—they only can smile, greater development of human power and hu- proudest and wealthiest of her nobles_perhaps 
admonition to “ set not our affections on things when the maiden looks up with a blush and a tear, mau weakness, know of the infinite amount of more influence than the houses of Parliament 
below.” We forgot that “ the rose that sweet- To him who is wooing with doubt and with fear, undeveloped joy and sorrow, which to-day will together. He once purchased bills of the gov- 
est wakes at morn, the earliest goes to rest.” — He knows ho has won her young heart, free from guile, leave the Post-Office and burst upon happy or eminent, in a single day, to the amount of twen- 
Why did we not see that the delicate flower l‘°r, g'owing through tear-drops her cheeks wear a smile, unhappy households. Each heart alone knows ty millions, and also the gold which he knew 
was too frail to endure the blasts of sorrow that When the heart beats but faintly as life wears away, its own joy and feels alone its own bitterness, the government must have to pay them • and 
sweep o’er human hearts, and know that ere Amleyes sce but dimly as earthward they stray, as no other can ; and that all the world should with the profits on a single loan purchased ™ 
long it would be removed to its native Heaven? The , anguage of peacej is theD) always a smiIo know it, will not make that liearthappier in its estate which cost him seven hundred and fifty 
Few had ever known a day so sad as the one on -_ joy nor less sorrowful in its grief. thousand dollars. But with the clearest and 
which she died. So closely had om hearts en- Written for the Rural New-Yorker. Heat leadei, you and I doubtless have known v idest comprehension in money matters, with 
twined about her that every tie that bound us a PEEP INTO THE POST-OFFICE, what it is to sorrow and weep over sad and the most piercing insight into all possible af- 
to earth seemed severed, and we cried, “ I have - afflicting news from the dear'fireside or the fecting causes in the money market, and wfith 
seen an end to all perfection.” Y^et her dying Who that has passed by our post-office and homes of those we loved ; and we have known, ingenuity to effect the profoundest, most subtle 
assurance that she desired to “depart and be seen the multitude of letters delivered to their too, the calm joy there is in reading a friendly and most unsuspected combinations_an iime- 
with Christ,” gave the consolation that “our various claimants—witnessed with what eager- letter, breathing of the fullness of loving hearts, nuity before which all other prodigies of calcu- 
loss was her gain,” and we dared not repine.— ness many a seal is broken, the contents de- from relatives or friends—a joy next to that of lation sink into insignificance—he was withal 
She had ever seemed voured, and the different effects of unmingled grasping the warm hand, receiving the kiss a little soul. He exercised his talents and cal- 
“ A spirit pure and bright, joy and unmitigated sorrow, which the face can- made sacred by affection, and listening to the culating powers, not only for the accumulation 
With something of an Angel’s light,’- not conceal—here the quivering lip and tearful uttered welcome and hearty congratulations of millions, and the management of national 
and we felt that she had been sent to us a eye, and there untold joy the heart cannot hold from lips that are never weary of telling us creditors, but also for the determination of the 
Sljmu fflmfllauy. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
SMILES. 
ItY B. F. BURLESON. 
Affection’s true coins from the mint of the heart, 
Than coins hard and yellow, more joy they impart; 
They glow on the cheek, when pure is the breast, 
Like a gold-tinted cloud in the gates of the West. 
When the fond mother presses the babe to her breast, 
And hushes and soothes the young prattler to rest; 
She is doubly repaid for her vigils the while, 
When her infant looks up with a cheek-dimpled smile. 
When the father presents to his dearly loved boy, 
A gift which infuses his young heart with joy, 
All trembling he grasps it, then stammers awhile, 
But words proving traitors, he only can smile. 
When charity openeth her hand to the poor, 
And, angel-commissioned, doth enter the door, 
To relieve their distress, and their sorrows beguile, 
Their tears choke their utterance—they only can smile. 
When the maiden looks up with a blush and a tear, 
To him who is wooing with doubt and with fear, 
the lamb from the flock.” There was a lock of WEALTH vs. HAPPINESS. 
flaxen hair which so often he had brushed back - 
from the forehead of a sweet sister, and as he Many inadvertently suppose that wealth and 
looked upon it his tears flowed afresh. happiness are inseparable companions, but a 
One father and mother have just learned by gl ance at the inner life of men exulting in 
a letter from a friend, that a lovely daughter, boundless wealth soon dissipates the delusion, 
the idol of their hearts and the joy of their ^ bere was great significance in the Savior’s re¬ 
homes, while on her return to their embrace, mark > “ A man’s life consisteth not in the abun- 
was suddenly, and without a moment’s warn- dance °f the things which he possesseth.” The 
ing, taken from them by casualty, and that her following sketch of the English Rothschild is 
body was on its way to the family burial- 111 P 01 *A : 
ground; while another reads with joy ful hearts, The insufficiency of mere wealth to confer 
The language of peace, is then, always a smile. 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
A PEEP INTO THE POST-OFFICE. 
She had ever seemed 
. “ A spirit pure and bright, 
With something of an Angel’s light,’ 
Seraph to “lure to brighter worlds, and lead from overflowing—who that has witnessed,and how great is their love, 
the way.” Loved group of life’s morning, perhaps felt, all this has not been impressed Rochester, April, 1856. 
where’er our lot be cast may we “ so live when with the thought of the vast amount of joy and - 
our summons comes to join” the severed links, sorrow constantly circulating through the mail NO GLOOM 
we may depart “ soothed and sustained by an bags ? . 
unfaltering trust” of reunion, an unbroken chain There goes a pale and feeble old man, care Au<n E ab ' kill S s tber 
in Heaven. Eola. and sadness upon his furrowed face, and the * 1C , bome - b « sbadc 
Camillus, 1856. hoar frosts of more than eighty winters upon his , wastefnl fretfulness 
long, thin locks. How he leans tremblingly up- * reshold, throwing th< 
THE FIRST MARRIAGE. on his cane, and how reluctantly his feet obey “ ke funeral palls, over 1 
and move slowly on. You would say that the & atbeied tbeie ’ If you will, your home shall 
how great is their love. s. a. e. smallest pittance on which a clerk’s soul could 
Rochester, April, 1856. be retained iu connection with his body. To 
part with a shilling in the way of charity cut 
NO GLO OM AT HOME. him to the heart. J 
Auove all things there should be no gloom in ^ ne bis ndes > “ Never to have anything to 
the home. The shadows of dark discontent do an unlucky man or place”—which was 
and wasteful fretfulness should never cross the ;dso one dobn Jacob Astor’s principles— 
threshold, throwing their large, black shapes, however shrewd iu a wordly point of view, was 
like funeral palls, over the happy young spirits ^ be ^ ei Y quintessence of selfishness and mam- 
. -j-. . . , <IUU II1UYU OJAMYJLY UL1. I UU WUUJLU SaV llie » „ - -—- -rj • 1 . - 
An English journal, the Britannia, has an lagfc gfc Randg were even now tricklincr thro’ be a beaven and evei 7 inmate an angel there. was ’ 111 short ’ a thorough going mammon 
amusing article under the head of “Adam’s hig hour ~ lagg and the urave was imnitLrt If you will you shall sit on a throne and be the worshiper—his soul converted into a machine 
WerLl intr ” Ttn nilifra- toiiu iliot Id lil-mi oVa,.* b > b *■ •• npd.lU.Uli 10 _. _v„_ I.. 1 J l e -.1 r , 01" finplne for Ooinincr o-llinonc 
amusing article under the head of “Adam’s v ---- If you will 
-- w ,,. 6 „ al ... . , Ins hour-glass, and the grave was impatient to , 
„ Wedding. The editor says that he likes short • , ■ . , r r ,„ , , , , , , presidios h 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. , . . J . receive his wasted form. The clerk has handed 1 b 
courtships, and in this Adam acted like a sensi- -u- . wliatprivilc 
MEMORIES. , , , f n i 1,1 i , him a letter. You would think ita small thing; „ K Z 
- + bl€ « P ? C Cl °^ aUd UW ° ke but look at his face. It has suddenly lost all than thlne ? 
i not among their heart-treasures to fiud bimselt a married man. He appears to itg paleness . Those eyeg are no Iou „ er dim _ And let tl 
ed in childhood—precious memen- hav< \“ P°PPf d t1 '® ( P iestl0n immediately after cane hag lost itg burden, and with an almost aS he Wlnds 
scenes of “ long ago ?” How they meetmg Ma mselle Eve ; and she, without flir- thful step) the old man walks away to his beholds the 
ir memories that thrill the soul with tallon or shyness, gave him a kiss and herself. , A , ■ th f ,, parlor, sprei 
Who has not among their heart-treasures 
notes received in childhood—precious memen¬ 
toes of the scenes of “ long ago ?” How they 
whisper dear memories that thrill the soul with 
mingled bliss and woe ! Opening my treasure- 
receive bis wasted form. The clerk has handed Presiding household deity. 0! faithful wife, 
him a letter. You would think ita small thing; wbat P ldvde S es wka i; treasures greater or purer 
but look at his face. It has suddenly lost all tban tbme ^ 
its paleness. Those eyes are no longer dim_ And let the husband strive to forget his cares 
or engine for coining guineas, and every emo¬ 
tion or immortal longing dead within him.— 
Guineas he did coin to a sum that seems almost 
fabulous ; but with all his colossal wealth, he 
wnisper clear memories that thrill tne soul with j 10 me. Ask him the cause of the "reat change P arxor ’ s P reacun g precious oeams on the red 
mingled bliss and woe ! Opening my treasure- Of that first kiss in this world we have had, an d he will tell you that he just received a let- pave before ifc ’ He has been tarrassed, per- 
box my eye rests upon a note neatly fastened boweve r, our own thoughts, and sometimes in ter from p ig ou j ' g0Q> w hom lie has not seen for P lexed ’ persecuted. He has borne with many 
with pink, bright emblem of the gay heart that P oetlcal mood bave wished we were the man more t j lan thirty long years—to him years of a cruel tone > man y a cold word, and nerved 
dictated its contents, merely a reference to the tbat uid but tbe deed is or was done ! tbe sorrow, for he is left^alone in the world with bimseW U P t0 an ener gy so desperate that his 
last party, and wish for amusements during the cbance was Adam’s, and he improved it. We n(me to love h i m w hile li ving, or weep for him framc and s P ir its are weakened and depressed. 
as he winds around the long, narrow street and was P roloun<b Y unhappy, and with sorrowful 
beholds the soft light illuminating his little eaines f ness > °uce exclaimed to one congratula- 
parlor, spreading its precious beams on the red ^ xn g bbn on tbe gorgeous magnificence of his 
palatial mansion, and thence inferring that he 
was happy —“Happy I me, happy /” 
BE EQUAL TO THE CRISIS. 
season. Where now is that joyous one—she bkc f be n °ff 011 °f gating mamed in a garden ; 
who moved in the giddy round of worldly it is in good taste. We like a private wedding. 
when dead, save this son of his youth—and aiK blS limbs acbe Wlth weariness. lhs tern- requireg moral courage to meet it> bc G( 
that dear one is coming home to smooth his way P les tbrob wlUl tbe P a " 1 ‘ licat caus ® d h 7 a to ° the requirements of the moment, and r 
to the grave and cherish his memory. Do you constant application. He scarcely knows how perior to tLe obstacles in vour natl, Tl 
W hen a crisis befalls you, and tbe emergency 
requires moral courage to meet it, be equal to 
pleasure, the brilliant Fannie ? Her grace and and Adam's was strictly private. No envious to tbe g rave aud cherish his memory. Do you constant application. He scarcely knows liow 
gayety won universal admiration, and too soon beaux were there, no croaking old maids, no wondei . t hat he laughs and sings through all to meet bis wlfe witb a P leasa nt smile, or sit 
fascinated a butterfly of fashion. He easily chattering aunts and grumbling grandmothers, his waking hours ? All that joy he found shut d °wn cheerfully to their little meal, which she 
lured the confiding heart, and the belle of the The birds of heaven were minstrels, and the up a wandering letter I bas P rOT i ded with so much care. 
perior to the obstacles in your path. The uni¬ 
versal testimony of men, whose experience 
coincides with yours, furnishes the consoliim 
ball-room became the bride of a villain. When gl ad sk Y shed its light upon the scene. One 
What a sorrowful countenance is that, half 
has provided with so much care. ^ consoling 
T , . , • j , i , , reflection, that difficulties may be ended bv 
But tbe door is opened—tbe overcoat thrown • ,, r Y 
opposition. Ihere is no blessing equal to the 
hastily oft. A sweet, simnm? voice fa Is mwn rr . _ ° ^ 
drooped daily, and he left her last hours un- ding to the sagest speculations of theologists— ^ uau™—uiesiueu • „ , 
soothed by the care a husband’s love should m ere babies—larger, but not older—without a it is-that those eyes had never done anything m . w by 0M wll0 has l eariled ruIe , JCI , el( aI;( ] 110 “mpassion. Be net dirnnayed or unmanned, 
have bestowed. Sad indeed were our hearts house, without a pot or kettle—nothing but J ". ’ * le ,l ' ,c " her household—Oil I he is thrice consoled for ! I; - " ' ' ' lt: 1 - ' ,LUU g> unflinching, 
when she returned to move again 'mid the love and Eden I eetved a letter, wrth a foretgn post-tnark upon all Ms trials . IIe cannot bc unt That ■>"<' "mb*. The cloud whose threatening 
friends of other days. Wo saw Death's , ig nd -~_ f on ^ sweetest, dearest, best solace is hisia cheerful "TT?, Y," ^ ^ is »*■ 
, , „ , , a a y the seal, fehe opens it. Ihe hand writing is i r, , , , nant with blessing, and the frown whose stern- 
on her brow, “ and on her cheek a rose whose female character. Ti . u • home. Do you wonder that the man is strength- , , ,, , 
, r-i hi >> it i , , , _ familiar. It begins—“ My dear Mother She j e a , „ „ , b ness now makes vou shudder and tremble will 
root was Death. Each strove to assuage the - , b , ‘ ened anew for to-morrow s cares l—Setedcd. , , J , , , .uu wemuie, wui, 
grief of the tempest-tossed “ The holy man of Daughters should thoroughly acquaint them- can read no more,—her mother s heart has in- ___ere long, be succeeded by a smile of bewitching 
. Gon" was there to point to One who never for- “>"* business and cares of a family. The great team ebase TRUE VALUE OE A FARM. sweetness and benignity. Then be strong and 
sakes, and repeat His promise to the weary— These are amon S tbe first objects of a woman’s each other dowu her cheeks, but they are tears _ manly ; oppose equal force to open difficulties, 
“ I will give you rest.” Oh how eagerly she creatxon > t be y 0ll gbt to be among tbe first °I 3°7' Strange that the same fountain sends There is something in the owning a piece of kce P a brin reliance on your ability to over- 
brought her wounded heart to her Redeemer branches of her education. They should learn °nt both the bitter and the sweet. With clasp- ground which affects me as do the old ruins of corae tbe obstacles, and trust iu Providence.— 
Then was “the wind tempered to the shorn neatness > economy, industry, aud sobriety.— ed hands, on bended knee, and with her meek England. I am free to confess that the value of ^ ectec ^- 
lamb,” and the wail of despair was exchanged Tbese constitute their ornaments. Nature f ace npturned, that widowed heart pours forth a farm is not chiefly in its crops of cereal grain, 
for the song of triumph. Never can I forget appear in all her loveliness of proportion, bs overflowing gratitude in multiplied thanks its orchards of fruit, and in its herds, but in Plainness of Speech.—“ Before you reproach 
her joy. Even now, I seem to catch the echo °I beauty ; and modesty, unaffected gentleness 1° lb e lather of all mercies, that her beloved those larger and more easily reaped harvests of an author with obscurity,” says Goethe, “look 
of her dying words_“Though I walkthrough manner, will render them amiable in the son > whom for long years she had mourned as associations, fancies, and dreamy broodings first to y° ur own intellect, and see whether 
the valley and shadow of Death, I will fear no kdiC b en and dining-room, and ornaments in the dead > whose bleaching bones she thought had which it begets. From boyhood I have asso- everything is clear there. In the twilight a 
evil. Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me ” 8ittiD g- 1,oom and parlor. Everything, domestic lon g bain unbimed far down in the depths of ciated classical civic virtues and old heroic in- very plain piece of composition becomes un- 
Here is an invitation to s i * 1 tl d- - tl 0r socxab de P e nds on female character. As °cean, was yet alive, and that she should see tegrity with the soil. No one who lias peopled readable.” A very true saying, and sensible as 
I atira who is to be -done - ie a y ^ 1 daughters and sisters they decide tbe character birn before she died. YY hat a world of joy was his young brain with the fancies of Grecian I ar as A goes. It is ever to be remembered, 
A home where gloom is banislied-prcsided ’ J - aim aeserve 
i .i-i , , , . 1 - no compassion. Be not dismayed or unmanned 
over by one who has learned to rule herself and , , ,,, . J . u * 
use, without a pot or kettle-nothing but but ” tear “ . 1 “ ot ' bhc has «- her honsehold-Oh 1 he in tin-ice console,! for 1 f ld ’ ""Hi-clung, 
re and Eden I ceived a letter, with a foreign post-,nark upon all bis trials . He connot bo That resd " to -, The c 10 " 1 * "'hose threatening 
___ 1 ' Sh f ”*** to h® 10 ™ «■“> br “ lis sweetest, dearest, best solace is his-a cheerful r* "'“h fear aud dread, ispreg- 
FEMALE CHARACTER. 
Daughters should thoroughly acquaint them- can read no more,—her mother’s heart has in¬ 
selves with the business and cares of a family. ter preted tbe whole. The great tears chase 
These are among the first objects of a woman’s each otb er down her cheeks, but they are tears 
creation ; they ought to be among tbe first j°y - Strange that the same fountain sends 
the seal, fehe opens it. Ihe hand writing is , tv , ... , 
r b , home. Do you wonder that the man is strength- 
familiar. It begins—“ My dear Mother ” She , f , ? 
, . . , , ened anew for to-morrow s cares ?— Selected. 
n , , nant with blessing, and the frown whose stern- 
ime. Do you wonder that the man is strength- , 6 ’ , , , B 
, , , , „ , ? ness noiy makes vou shudder and tremble, will 
ied anew for to-morrow s cares ?— Setectcd. i , - . , , h 
_ ere long, be succeeded by a smile of bewitching 
sweetness and benignity. Then be strong and 
TRUE VALUE OF A FARM. t i / * ° ng ana 
_ manly ; oppose equal force to open difficulties. 
There is something in tbe owning a piece of kee P a fi nn reliance on your ability to over- 
branclies of her education. They should learn 0ld both the bitter and the sweet. With clasp- ground which affects me as do the old ruins of comc * be obstacles, and trust iu Providence.— 
neatness, economy, industry, aud sobriety.— ed hands, on bended knee, and with her meek England. I am free to confess that the value of ^ ec 
Laura, who is to he alone. How merrily sped 
the hours, and what a victory was ours, for it was 
the memorable time when we prepared our first 
daughters and sisters they decide the character ; llm ,j eiore she died. What a world of joy was his young brain witli the fancies of Grecian ^ ar as A goes. It is ever to be remembered, 
of the family. As wives, they emphatically im P ri soned by a wafer! mythology but comes to feel a certain magical however, that the greatest masters of language, 
decide the character of their husbands, and Three months—months of intense watching fancy for the earth. The very smell of fresh those who are most read, and whose writings 
dinner Often when T emnrvn e J L ,■ tbeir condition also. It has been, not unmean- and anxiety—have gone by, pd no tidings,— turned earth brings up as many dreams aud are destined to live, are uniformly the most 
coiupme our exultation • _i_ _^_l,nw it. iu c ™,i a. -..i .1 „ _a _ 
at that achievement with our present sources of 
joy, I think “ we are but children of a larger 
growth.” Little dreamed we then that to-day 
my friend would have won laurels by her vigor 
of mind, and stand, as now, honoring an hon¬ 
orable position in a distant Seminary. Fame’s 
noblest gifts be thine, thou friend of “life’s 
spring-time.” 
And now my glance falls on a note recalling 
the presence of two sisters, lovely in their unity. 
Nought but the resistless power of Death could 
ingly, said, that the husband may ask the wife bow it grates upon the soul!—no tidings of the visions of the country as sandal wood does of easily understood. Readers are not easily per- 
whether he may be respected. He certainly missing ship bave reached the many desolate oriental scenes. At any rate, I feel in walking suadecl to work their passage, just for the fun of 
must inquire at the altar whether he may be homes where the weary watchers look out into under these trees and about their slopes, some- Aie thing, when they may be carried over the 
prosperous and happy. As mothers, they de- Aie starless night and pray. There is a bus- thing of that enchantment of vague and mys- same ground, and reach the same haven, by a 
cide the character of their children. Nature has band and father on that fatal vessel. A young, terous glimpse of the past which I once felt style plain, intelligible, and requiring no labo- 
constructed them the early guardians and iu- loving wife and precious babe have long await- about the ruins of Kenilworth Castle. For r l° us effort. 
structors of their children, and clothed them ed bis return.- The days drag heavily along, thousands of years this piece of ground had 4 1 * 
with sympathies suited to this end. — Selected. and the nights are full of sorrow and weeping, wrought its tasks. Old slumberous forests used Practical Men.— Some men are and must be 
Unthinking heads, who have not learned to 
spring-time” ' S w Ab sympathies suited to this end.— Selected. and the nights are full of sorrow and weeping, wrought its tasks. Old slumberous forests used Practical Men.—S ome men are and must be 
^ ‘ _ while no word yet comes over the sea. Every to darken it; innumerable deer have tramped greater than the rest. Yet it is a singular feature 
n now myg ance a s on a note recalling beauty of solitude. footstep on the threshold sends a pang through across it; foxes have blinked through its bush- of our times that we have no mountainous, over- 
epiesenceo wosiseis, o\e j in theii unity. - the heart of the wife and mother, for each seems es ; and wolves have howled and growled as topping men; we have plenty of little great 
JMoug t but the resistless power of Death could Unthinking heads, who have not learned to a presage of sorrow and death. At length a they pattered along its rustling leaves with men, but they cannot be seen five miles out at 
separate tbeir twin souls. But “ lading, still be alone, are in a prison to themselves, if they letter comes. She quickly tears off the cover- empty maws. How many birds—how many sca - What absurdity it is to talk of good blood— 
a in ^ lb ie 1 00111 0 m°i tals, and alas j A are not also with others; whereas, on the con- ing—alas ! it is not his hand-writing. Tidings flocks of pigeons, thousands of years ago_how as A ab our blood did not run from one puddle ! 
.°^i e , ie man a e ’ pass ye aivay. "YY ho tiaiy, those whose thoughts are in a fair and have come at last; butO ! who shall ever know many hawks dashed wildly among them_how -^- ud what a bankrupt is be, who having none 
sia e e angiusli of the bereaved sister ?— hurry within, are sometimes fain to retire into the agony of her heart, when she learns that many insects, nocturnal aud diurnal—how many of his own, falls back upon his ancestors ! Hu- 
naccus ome to ac , 01 rare y think, other than company to be out of a crowd themselves. He the noble ship has gone down with all its pre- mailed bugs, and limber serpents, gliding manity is more affluent than any class of men. 
T 1 \ 6 m, deal de P arted > bow can she stand who must needs have company, must sometime cious freight of deathless souls 1 The current among mossy stones, have had possession here Napoleon taught the world this, when be made 
a one . ie cup oi earthly pleasures so often have bad company. Be able to be alone; lose of her whole being seems to flow out, as she before my day ! It will not be long before I, Kings rock on their thrones till they were sea- 
to ^ et f 1 l )1(!!,euts nought but bitter not tbe advantage of solitude and the society of clasps her sweet babe to her bosom and whis- too, shall be wasted and recordless as they._ sick. Some men are superior to others because 
t legs, an seeking t ie retirement of home, she thyself, nor be only content, but delight to be pers, the fatherless and the widow— Gon have Henry Ward Beecher. t} iey are more alive, but all men are capable of 
lives only in the blissful past, and in cherished alone and single with Omnipotency. He who mercy ! __ developing into this higher life.— E. II. Chapin. 
1 1S . 1 1 ° riS °. f 3 eiini °n w ith the loved andj lost, is thus prepared, the day is not uneasy, nor the I saw one, with a smile upon his face, open a He only is worthy of esteem that knows what-•*—*-- 
“ Kinlof Terrors” 1 transffirmld iutoTn' w black unto him. Darkness may bound letter. It was from home —full of thoughts is just and honest, aud dares to do it; thut is Kindness in Little Things.—S ir Humphrey 
& ‘ n S e l°l is eyes, not his imagination. In liis bed he from the old fireside ; but soon, strong man as master of his own passions, and scorns to be the says:—“ Life is made up, not of great sacrifices 
ZZZeZve ^Snerthttfr ° T’ ^ bke and bis sons, in all quar- he was, he bowed his head and wept like a slave of another’s. 1 Such ’an one merits more S duties, but of litHe ^^<3^ 
Darted no more forever 10Ue ’ ° ° ° tbe emth , may speculate the universe, child, and his frame quivered like an aspen, respect than these gay things who owe all their aud kindnesses, and small obligations, given 
What playful medley is here of French Lat- hirasT-^Irf m the hermitage of when he read the sad words- “ death for the greatness and reputation to their rentals and habitually, are what win and preserve the heart, 
J J ’ nimsen. sciccica. firgt time has entered our household and taken revenues.— Dr. Fuller. and secure comfort.” 
Kings rock on their thrones till they were sea¬ 
sick. Some men are superior to others because 
they are more (dive, hut all men are capable of 
developing into this higher life.— E. II. Chapin. 
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