MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
MAY 31. 
♦ y wry i jfft Y * who sat to G»e P u 
ItS Jifltt " Jl 0 It#* light, and the mil 
CONDUCTED BY AZIDE. 
AN ENCHANTED ISLAND. 
A wonderful stream is the river of Time, 
As it runs through the realms of tears, 
With a faultless rhythm, and a musical rhyme, 
And a broader sweep, and a surge sublime, 
And blends with the ocean of years. 
There’s a musical Isle up the river of Time, 
Where the softest airs are playing ; 
There’s a cloudless sky and a tropical clime, 
ADd a soqg as sweet as a vesper chime, 
And the tune with the roses are staying. 
And the name of that Isle is the Long Ago, 
And we bury our treasures there ; 
There are brows of beauty, and bosoms of snow, 
They are heaps of dust, but we love them so 1 
There are trinkets, and tresses of hair. 
There are fragments of song that nobody sings, 
And a part of an infant s prayer ; 
There’s a lute unswept, and a harp without strings, 
There are broken vows, and pieces of rings, 
And the garment she used to wear. 
There are hands that are waved when the fairy shore 
By the mirage is lifted in air ; 
And we sometimes hear, through the turbulent roar, 
. Sweet voices we heard in days gone before, 
When the wind down the river is fair. 
0, remembered for aye be that blessed Isle, 
All the days of our life until night; 
And when evening comes on with its beautiful smile, 
And our eyes are closing to slumber awhile, 
May that greenwood of soul be in sight. 
For Moore s Rural New-Yorker. 
A CHAPTER TO THE ROYS. 
Boys, all of you like to be considered cour¬ 
ageous. Do you know what true courage is ? 
Do you imagine it is to be always ready to lilt 
who sat in the pulpit, was turned to gold in its 
light, and the minister, who we used to think 
could never die, so good was he, had concluded 
I ‘application ’ and ‘exhortation,’ and the village 
choir were singing the last hymn, and the tune 
was ‘ Corinth.’ 
It is years—we dare not think how many— 
since then, and ‘ the prayers of David the son of 
Jesse,’ are ended, and the choir scattered and 
gone—the girl with blue eyes that sang alto, 
and the girl with black eyes that sang air ; the 
eyes of the one were like a June heaven at noon. 
They both became wives, and both mothers ; 
and they both died. Who shall say they are 
not singing ‘Corinth’ still, where Sabbaths 
never wane and congregations never break up ? 
There they sat Sabbath after Sabbath, by the 
square column at the right of the ‘ leader and 
to our young ears their tunes were ‘ the very 
soul of music.’ That column bears still their 
penciled names, as they wrote them in those 
days in life’s June, 183-, before dreams of 
change had overcome their spirits like a sum¬ 
mer’s cloud. 
Alas that with the old singers most of the 
sweeter tunes have died upon the air! But 
they linger in memory, and they shall yet be 
sung in the sweet re-union of song that shall 
take place by-and-by, in a hall whose columns 
©frail* Slumllamj. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
A.PICTURE OP LIPE. 
BY SEYMOUR G. WILCOX. 
As turns the earth upon its axis round, 
And thus brings day to follow kindred day, 
Whose music is of many a varied sound, 
Whose face is dark, or bright when sunbeams play, 
So turns the circle of the life of man. 
His sunny youth and manhood’s vigorous prime. 
And trembling age which measures out his spaD, 
Are but the days that compass his short time. 
In youth he’s charmed by many enchanting strains 
That wake to life deep feeling in his breast ; 
In manhood, often bowed with cares and pains ; 
Calmly, in age, he sinks away to rest. 
One day of mine is gone ; and as I stand 
And gaze aback, and on the future look, 
The varied scene which I can thus command, 
To me seems like a large three-volumed book, 
With the first volume dark with inky stain 
That tells of early hopes, and joys, and fears ;— 
T'-ie others, which unwritten yet remain, 
If filled at all, will treasure future years. 
For the Rural Now-Yorker. 
FOR HUSBANDS ONLY. 
Mr. Editor :—I wonder if it is a peculiarity 
er; and ‘•when most k’ind, is most to be sus- A WARNING TO YOUNG MEN. 
pected.” "VYhen we sport, like the butterfly, in _ " 
.the sunshine of fashion, and revel in the volnp- ^ FEW _ ^ eeks since, in the course of conver- 
tuous struggle for the glittering baubles of life, sa ^ on w ith an eminent broker, who lias been 
and are contented with the ghastly smiles of toity years acquainted with the leading moneyed 
the pale phantom of hope, we not only fail to 
appreciate the value of the present, but lose our 
hopes of happiness in the labyrinth of the J’u- 
men of the country, we asked if he ever knew 
a schemer, who acquired money or position by 
fraud, to continue successful through life, and 
tuue. When we have reached life’s meridian, leave a fortune at death ’ We walked together 
and have felt the emptiness of pomp and pa- about three minut es m silence, when he replied' 
trpanfrv. and nnw-nr. wp. Wn tn nnnremntP lha Not OUC ! I have Seen men,” he Said, “ be- 
geantry, and power, we learn to appreciate the 
language of Woolsey : 
“ This is the state of man; to-day he puts forth 
The tender leaves of hope ; to-morrow blossoms, 
And bears his blushing honors thick upon him. 
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, 
And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely 
His greatness is a ripening—nips his root, 
And then he falls as I do.” 
come rich as if by magic, and afterwards reach 
a high position in public estimation, not only 
for honor and enterprise, but even for piety, 
when some small circumstance, of no apparent 
importance, lias led to investigations, which re¬ 
sulted in disgrace and ruin.” 
On Saturday we again conversed with him 
are beams of morning light, whose ceiling is acquired or inherited, national or individual, in 
pearl, w hose doors are gold, and where Bair your sex, to dislike to change soiled garments 
never turns silvery, and hearts never grow old. for clean ones ? But not wishing to be personal. 
Then she that sang alto and she that sang air, or include yourself among the class mentioned, 
will be in their places once more. permit me to ask the lady readers of your pages, 
-- the simple question, if their husbands dread 
CHILDHOOD. putting on clean shirts, socks, pants, <fcc.? If 
SO, to what cause is it to be attributed, and has 
In those romantic days, so lost now in the rerae dy been discovered finaIIy efficient j 
In those romantic days, so lost now in the 
M hen the sands of our glass are nearly gone, upon the same subject, and he stated that since 
and we are fast hastening to the narrow house— our last interview he had extended bis inqui- 
when life s tumultuous ocean has swallowed up ries among a large circle of acquaintances, and 
gold—and the worthless rubbish of existence is with one solitary exception, and that doubtful, 
left to the play of its billows; then it is that we their experience was to the same effect as his 
see how empty are the pretensions of our own. He gave a brief outline of several small 
friendship, and how hollow the applause of a and big schemers, and their tools, their rise and 
cold and heartless world ! fall. Suicide, murder, arson and perjury, he 
“Dream not, in lire to taste the bliss said, were common crimes with many of those 
For transport, like a traitor’s kiss', wbo made haste to be rich, regardless of the 
Will flatter only to destroy. means ; and, he added, there are not a few men 
The clouds that pillow’d in the sky, who may be seen on ’Change every day, igno- 
Like golden structures, fair and bright, rantly striving for their destruction. It is not. 
When tinted with their deepest dye, he said g0 much tbe love of gold that leads 
But tell of pleasure’s rapid flight. . ° 
And so with all the charms of earth, raan Y business men astray, as the desire to be 
With wings of speed they mount on high, thought sharp or successful. He concluded that 
Leaving the place which gave them birth, fortunes acquired without honesty generally 
Only the solace of a sigh ! overwhelmed their possessors with infamy. — 
Boston Atlas. 
GOOD HUMOR. The apostle of old wrote a similar caution to 
past, and in the clouds or poetic, feeling with and effectual ? Much has been said about wo- 
whmh we have unfolded them, bow easily we men nee i ectinff their dress after rnw-riW that. 
- that above, taken from a secular paper. “ But 
Keep in good humor. It is not great calami- they that will be rich fall into temptation and 
- j — o ’ oo -o' „ . uiussuuieu almost as iar auove our neaas. The ft,™,. . i 1 -- - me w. juuurj me uwt ui an evii; which, wane 
slight or fancied offence l Then you aie nus- song 0 f a b ; rd) and the report of a pistol, ex- j ’j \ . . ’ 1US1 heart heavy and the temper sour. Don’t let some coveted after, they have erred from the 
taken, and will perhaps allow me to set you ciled wonder> eacb j n tbe same de gree and dJ flvinTnhfnt 9 alr uncom ® an mat ' them. Anger is a pure waste of vitality; it is faith, and pierced themselves through with 
right in this matter, as we are all glad to be qualit so charmingly impartial our judgments t n i’ - } “ uo ^ v ’ 1 Y ou appen always foolish, and always disgraceful, except many sorrows. But thou, O man of God, flee 
advised of errors in time to correct them before ^ * The gize of ^,. J b the sweet- f “? coa W to dinner or tea, does it seem in some very rare cases, when it is kindled by these things.” And the wise king has left on 
harm comes. You are boys now, but will soon ne ss of our cake, and the glory of sunshine that ^ be so very hard to put on clean garmente and seeing W0Dg done to another; and even that record the proverb, corroborated by the expe- 
be men, and will have the destiny of our conn- lllumined tbe grea t world for us, <mve equal 7 " P , ^ ?.°* 7 ,, ! noble ra S e seldom mends tbe matter. Keep in Hence of every generation, “he 'that maketh 
try in your hands, and it is very important for pleasume . Then we made friends with cats and i “ d S ood humor ’ Baste to be rich shall not be innocent.” These 
you to get a correct idea ol the real meaning of dogS) w frh trees and clouds; and all earthly -p r , ~ °" n 0 iea ’ as wi 1 a ® 10 No man does his best except when he is cautions ought to be stamped on the hearts of 
words and terms. things bent over us so protectingly ! Ifweran week-dirt''vre b ^!^] 0 C ° (d f ^ . 01 a cheerful. A light heart makes nimble hands, our young men in this day of absorbing world- 
Suppose sometime when you are among a through fields of grain, the ripe ears would look a t 'no” matter^ ^ g °’f en ° U ^ 1 0I .' erb) and keeps the mind free and alert. Nomisfor- liness. If they would escape such bitter dis- 
knot of boys, some braggart steps up, shows his meet and whisper above our heads, while we, town^vith hinTor\ ' h ^ a ' e t0 tune is so great as one that sours the temper.— appointment and ruin, let them not “make 
fist, boasts of his superior skill and strength, ruthless hunters, were in full chase after a , Jf 1 ’. 0 , 1 0 C1U1C1 ®' en tie same Until cheerfulness is lost, nothing is lost. Keep haste,”but,bydihgenceandstrictintegritybe- 
and dares you to fight, but you calmly tell him cricket or grasshopper; and, when we played barn 'ard wood ard'^ifc™™ & t^'lL & d B in S ood bumor. fore God and man, lay the foundations in truth 
you wish to have nothing to do with him, and in a clover field or mowing lot, how every blade tharhe^ ck ^houfi * ^ * S . a ^’ The company of a good humored man is a and righteousness, and though they may seem 
will not enter into a quarrel. So he and the of scented grass, and every round pink blossom, ^ ° SC . , S a ° U , ln T. f°° f ,, eD ® u £ ^ be s perpetual feast; he is welcomed everywhere— to advance slowly, they will avoid the wreck of 
other boys hiss and call you a coward, and it seemed like an equal and dear friend, till we S°^ S011| e Jig e se o hi o — can t bother eyeg g li s ten at his approach, and difficulties moral character, and the overwhelming ruin 
makes the hot blood rush to your face, and you were ready to clasp them bv armfulls to our on ^ ll P S 10Iae 1 Y 011 can t Hde with vanish in his presence. Franklin’s indomitable that so often overtakes the hasty aspirant after 
long to thrash them all. Slill you know you little eager hearts ! How horrible wasps and lm J us af J ® 'J ^ b ’- s " C ' ‘ ilr c say some of good humor did as much for his country in the riches. Let them remember the admonition of 
would only degrade yourself to a level with bees were, and what enviable heroes squirrels! "i° U i T* 1 * 7 V !°' V 1 1 f’, aa ^° U C ^ y ou be old Congress as Adams’ fire or Jefferson’s wis- the Psalmist, as applicable to business transac- 
to mmmflnf’.ft a broil, and von r*.nn- a \. *...i . _i ^ i some ) 0 (. v t\ou d just gi\e them their c i om . h e clothed wisdom with fimilps and to Rnirlt.nal t.raininop in t)iia nrooont 
them to commence a useless broil, and you con- and what a mystery about all those birds, whose ^ • \ i nn , ■, . dom ; he clothed wisdom with smiles, and sc 
trol yourself aud walk quietly away. That, bodies were wineed as our hearts l Then for " pmion > aut a 1 ie & 00(1 advlce ’ and a11 ln th e tened contentious minds into acquiescence, 
my son, would be showing true, moral,courage, TTZIVZZ t t l ^ g °°t Kee P “ 
which few possess—the courage to do right, in t ue, beauty, we had mothers and grandfathers, j b , . } 5 .° , ” ‘ a,< “ be convinced > A good conscience, a sound stomach, a clei 
the face of a sneering, vulgar crowd, borne a unts and cousins, by scores. It was unques- " skin, aie elements of good humor. Get thei 
boys have not tbe courage to tell the truth, but tionably beautiful, as a be°-innin" — Monthly Gentlemen, (for I suppose I must call them and keep them, and —be sure to keep in go< 
will evade, and prevaricate, and finally tell a Magazine. ° ° so > and keep my own private opinion to myself humor. 
ie, beauty, we had mothers and grandfathers, ^ m6U ^ hard t0 be convinced ^ A good conscience, a sound stomach, a clean thy word .”—Christian Mirror. 
mts and cousins, by scores. It was unques- , " . skin, are elements of good humor. Get them, ♦ ■ *- 
onably beautiful, as a beginning .—Monthly Gentlemen, (lor I suppose I must call them and keep them, and — be sure to keep in good Be Not Discouraged. —It is a fine remark of 
r ogazine. so, and keep my own private opinion to myself humor. _ Genolou, “Bear with yourself in correcting 
—- every map considers himself a gentleman !) WHO are YOUR^ARISTOCRATS faults, as you would with others.” We cannot 
THE FIRESIDE. —even suppose you had no wives to keep a _ ’ do ab a t once . But by constant pruning away 
- drawer of clean socks, vests and shirts always Twenty years ago this one made candles, of litt le faults, and cultivating humble virtues. 
The fireside is a seminary of infinite impor- ready for your use, would nt it be a little more that oue sold cheese and butter> another butch- we shall grow towards perfection. This simple 
dom ; he clothed wisdom with smiles, and sof- ti°ns, as to spiritual training, in this present 
tened contentious minds into acquiescence.— life -.—“Where withal shall a young man cleanse 
Keep in good humor. his way ? by taking heed thereto, according to 
down-right falsehood, rather than frankly con¬ 
fess an error or make an apology. OLkers think 
it shows a manly, courageous spirit, to defy aud 
ridicule their parents and brag about their in- 
THE FIRESIDE. 
WHO ARE YOUR ARISTOCRATS. 
Be Not Discouraged. —It is a fine remark of 
Genolou, “Bear with yourself in correcting 
faults, as you would with others.” AVe cannot 
do all at once. But by constant pruning away 
dependence, and laugh at some modest youth, tance. It is important because it is universal, respectful to yourselves, and the rest of human- eredj a f ourtb carried on a distillery, another rule—not to be discouraged at slow progress, 
who, they say, is “ tied to his mother’s apron and because tbe education it bestows, being ifc y, to make yourselves clean, tidy and pre- was a contractor on canals, others were mer- bufc to persevere, overcoming evil habits one by 
wane iney saermee uie geou upmiun di uii true college, dui an are graduates 01 me hearth. The 6 'y juu get uuie, ana out loud. I or often you shall find that these t0 knowledge, temperance ; and to temper- 
friends. Others I have known, who were learning of the university may fade from the bave a llttle lelsure to spend with your family, toiling worms hatch butterflies—and they live ance < patience ; and to patience, godliness ; 
ashamed of a patch on their clothes, and blush- recollection, its classic lore may moulder iu the or if you are leaving work to go to town with about a year. Death brings a division of prop- and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and 
ed to be seen performing manual labor, and halls of the memory, but the simple lessons of y our Wlfe > wb y not le ave your dirty clothes erty, and it brings new financiers; the old gent to brotherly kindness, charity, — will con- 
would not for the world carry a bag or bundle, home, enamelled upon the heart of childhood, ^Bere your work is ? You expect Ber to take j s discharged, the young gent takes Bis reve- duct tb e slowest Christian to high religious 
as tho’ any or all of these had any thing to do defy the rust of years, and outlive the maturer ber wasb dress, and dish apron, and comb nue s and begins to travel_toward poverty, attainments. 
with character. If you bave true courage, you but less vivid pictui es of after days. her hair neatly, to make ber appearance outside which be reaches before death, or his children -- 
will never blush to be engaged in any honest g 0 deep, so lasting, indeed, are the impres- tbe kdcben> bow d tbat Y 011 are exempt do jf be does nob g 0 ^ ba ^ j n f acb though Civil Liberty. —Men are qualified for civil 
employment, and dressed according to your s i ons of early life, that you often see a man in horn obligations to be decent .' 1 Does it con- there is a sort of moneyed race, it is not hered- liberty in exact proportion to their disposition 
work and means; but you will be ashamed to tbe imbecility of age holding fresh in his re- sume sucb a ' as ^ am o i uH of time ? A\ by not itary ; it is accessible to all; three good seasons to put moral chains upon their own appetites ; 
be caught in low, vicious company, or doing or collection the events of his childhood, while all pve bde ^ ou Pve ’ and bake Hme to do what is 0 f cotton will send a geueihtion of men up_a to proportion as tlieir love to justice is above 
saying a mean thiDg. the wide space between that and the present need tol, even if you do not see dollars and score of years will bring them all down, and their capacity ; in proportion as their soundness 
Never boast of your courage or prowess— hour is a blasted and forgotten waste. You dimes come of it the next moment t A\ by will send their children to labor. The father grubs an -d sobriety of understanding is above their 
those who brag the loudest, always run from the have, perhaps, seen an old and half-obliterated F ou ak °w yourselves to neglect all the little re- an j grows rich—his children strut and use the vanity and presumption ; in proportion as they 
presence of real and unavoidable danger; and, portrait, and in the attempt to have it cleaned fi nera( mt s and courtesies ol life, because you money. The children, in turn, inherit the are more disposed to listen to the counsels of 
above all, never be afraid or ashamed to follow and restored, you have seen it fade away, while are mar Hed, and men ol business ? George pride, and go to shiftless poverty ; next, their the wise and good, in preference to the flattery 
the counsels of your mother. She is your best, a brighter and still more perfect picture, paint- Washington, arid other great men, with all the children, reinvigorated by fresh plebian blood, of knaves. Society cannot exist, unless a con- 
your never-failing friend, and you should have ed beneath, is revealed to view. This portrait, claims on their time, never forgot to be truly and by the smell of the clod, come up again. trolling power upon will and appetite be 
the courage to show to all the boys, and every first drawn upon tbe canvas, is no inapt illustra- g en ttomanly, even to old age. Do please to Thus society, like a tree, draws its sap from placed somewhere ; and the less of it there is 
one, that you respect and love her. KesisJ. in- tion of youth, and though it may be concealed think a moment, and not whew and drive the earth, changes it into leaves and blossoms, within, the more there must be without. It is 
justice and oppression to the utmost, but avoid by some after design, still the original traits ar0UI ^ d always, lime hastens and yon are spreads them abroad in great glory, sheds them ordained in the eternal constitution of things, 
unnecessary exposures to quarrels and dangers, will shine through the outward picture, giving g row tog old I m sure we shall all love you 0 ff to fall back to the earth, again to mingle that men of intemperate minds cannot be free ; 
for in the course of your lives, you will meet it tone while fresh, and surviving it in decay. more > and "wait on you with a better grace, it with soil, and at length to reappear in new their passions forge their fetters. 
with enough real danger to exhibit all the cour- Such is the fireside—the great institution fur- Y ou only be more true to us and your- dress and fresh garniture.— Selected. - ■+-•-+- _ 
aero nnH ftlrill vmi m?iv r , .n?nmn.riH • and )w /»n 1- I nisked for our education.— Goodrich. | selves. A AVoman | ----I v>-vr- — - , 
with enough real danger to exhibit all the cour¬ 
age and skill you may command ; and by cul¬ 
tivating now, a calm, fearless spirit, and self- 
respect, you may eventually become a great 
blessiDg to your friends and country. 
An Old Friend. 
INDIAN SUMMER OF LIFE. 
An Old Friend. In the life of the good man there is an Indian 
_- summer more beautiful than that of the seasons; 
THE OLD VILLAGE CHURCH. richer, sunnier, and more sublime than the most 
- glorious Indian summer which the world ever 
The Editor of the Knickerbocker attributes knew — it is the Indian summer of the soul. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
HAPPINESS.—THE FUTURE. 
“ Our future life, in world’s unknown, 
Must take its hue from this alone ; 
Whether as Heavenly glory bright, 
Or dark as misery’s woeful night.” 
Dispute. —How much soever a person may be 
Bright Hours and Gloomy. —Ah, this beau¬ 
tiful world !—I know not what to think of it. 
inclined to dispute with his fellow-man ; how- Sometimes it is all gladness and sunshine, and 
ever often his passions may get the mastery of heaven itself lies not far off, and then it sud- 
his wisdom and his tongue ; yet I believe there denly changes and is dark and sorrowful, and 
are none possessed of ordinary intelligence, who the clouds shut out the day. In the lives of the 
do not often muse on the folly which belong to saddest of us there are bright days like this, 
the petty word-quarrels in which men are so when we feel as if we could take the great 
Ihe Editor ol the Knickerbocker attributes knew — it is the Indian summer of the soul. How mysterious are the ways of Providence ! often engaged. There are men who, being led world in our arms. Then comes gloomy hours 
the following to Ike Marvel, and it is certainly AYken the glow of youth has departed, when AYhen fortune has profusely scattered her glit- iuto dispute, wax warmer and warmer as the when the fire will not burn on oin- hearths and* 
worthy of him but we are inclined to credit it the warmth of middle age is gone, and the buds tering toys, and mortals bave grasped them as conflict increases, until finally they separate in all without and within is dismal, cold and dark 
to B. F. Taylor, author of “ January and June : and blossoms of spring are changing to the sere something real—when fancy has decked the high dudgeon, both inwardly vowing that there Believe me, every heart has its secret sorrows 
“Last evening we were walking leisurely and yellow leaf, then the mind of the good landscape with gaudy colors, and promised that never was such an obstinate old fellow as that which the world knows not, and oftentimes we" 
along. The music of choirs in three churches man, still ripe and vigorous, relaxes its labors, its attractions shall be as durable as they are “Jones” or “Brown,” as the case may be. For call a man cold when he is only sad .—Lonqfel- 
came floating out into the darkness around us, and the memories of a well-spent life gush dazzling, in a moment the lowering sky may such men I have two rules selected— one from low. 
and they were all new aud strange tunes but forth from their secret fountains, enriching, re- belie our hopes, and the pointed lightning blast Jefferson aud one from M. AureL The former -■*—*■-i_ 
one; and tbat one, it was not sung as we have joicing and fertilizing ; then the trustful resig- our joys. Thus says the author, Fenelon ; says “ AVhen you are angry, always count ten A Good Maxim.— The more peaceably and 
heard it, but it awakened a train of long buried nation of the Christian sheds around a sweet and, indeed, the truth of these words has been before you speak.” And the latter :—“ In all quietly we get on the better —the better for us 
memories, that rose to us even as they were and holy warmth, and the soul assuming a heav- realized by every person during his dark pil- differences, consider that you and your enemy and others. In nine cases out of ten the wisest 
before tbe cemetery of the soul had a tomb in enly lustre, is no longer restricted to the nar- grimage through the realm of time. The charm are dropping off, and that ere long your very policy is, if a man cheats you, quit dealing 
it. It was sweet old ‘ Corinth ’ they were sing- row confines of business, but soars far beyond called Happiness, flies onward with the wind, memories will be extinguished.”— Mtz Morner. with him ; if he is abusive, quit his company^; 
ing—strains that we have seldom heard since the winter of hoary age, and dwells peacefully Misfortune becomes our constant companion, -—-- if he slanders you, take care to live so that no- 
the rose color of life was blanched ; and we and happily upon that bright spring and sum- and distress marks the passage of time, with The rose of Florida, the most beautiful of body will believe him. No matter who he is 
were in a moment back again to the old church : mer which await him within the gates of Par- tears of anxiety and reproof. flowers, emits no fragrance. The birds of Par- or how he misuses you, the wisest way is gen- 
and it was a summer afternoon, and yellow adise, evermore. Let us strive for and look Hope speaks words of happiness, but like a adise, the most beautiful of birds, give no song, erally to leave him alone, for there is nothing 
sunbeams were streaming through the west trustingly forward to an Indian summer like viper, stings those from whom it receives nour- The cypress of Greece, the finest of trees, yields better than this cool, calm, quiet way of deal- 
windows, and the silver hair of the old deacon, I this. 
ishment. It is known to be a ruthless destroy- | no fruit. 
mg with the wrongs we meet. 
... 
