? m 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
JULY ID. 
CONDUCTED BY AZILE. 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
THE LOST STAR. 
Far removed from the friends of my earlier years— 
The friends that so dearly I love— 
OJTTV V ♦ y nt\\ 1 (ft y ♦ the chief happiness of my life was derived. 
This never - d y in g Hentimeut, originating in 
C love, was cherished by a long and close obser- 
-—-- vation of as amiable and estimable qualities 
CO N D U c 1 i . D is y AZIL1-. _ as ever adorned the female bosom. To a person 
which in youth was very attractive, to manners 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. . , , jj j /• i 
uncommonly pleasing, she added a fine under- 
THE LOST STAR. J tr ... , . , 
standing, and the sweetest temper which can 
Far removed from the friends of my earlier years — accompany a just and modest sense of what 
The friends that so dearly I love— waS due to herself. She was educated with a 
Through this dark, gloomy valeof misfortunes and teais . )ro f ounc i reverence for religion, which she pre- 
Aloneand a stianger I rove. served to her last moments. This sentiment, 
The skieB are as blue here, the sunbeams as bright among her earliest and deepest impressions, 
Of Night, gave a coloring to her whole life. Hers was 
At the Close of the wearisome day. the religion taught by the Savior of man. She 
. .. ... . __was a firm believer in the faith inculcated by 
l can list the sweet music of murmuring streams, # J 
I can gaze at gay-tinted flowers, the Church (Episcopal) in which she was bred. 
And they bring back again the same beautiful dreams « j ] )avc l os fc ^er, and with her have lodt the 
That cheered me in sunnier hours. „ , _ vr , v 
solace of my life! Yet she remains still the 
How often I sat by the deep running brook, companion of my retired hours, still occupies 
When the day was about to depart, _• , , , , 
. . „ , .. „ ,..u my inmost bosom. When alone and unem- 
And saw there reflected in feature ana look, / 
The depths of my innermost heart. ployed, my mind still recurs to her. More 
Then I gazed till the night shades began to descend, thaa a thoUBand timCS since the 25th of Decem - 
And the stars to appear in the sky ; her, 1831, liave I repeated to myself the beau- 
I fancied each shadow the form of a friend— tiful lines written by General Burgoyne, under 
Each bright orb a love-speaking eye. ;1 similar* affliction, substituting 'Mary’ for 
But one—’twas the clearest and brightest of all— ‘ Anna 
Seemed dearer to me than the rest; < Encompassed in an angel’s frame, 
Through the long summer twilight from spring until fall, An angel’s virtues lay ; 
I loved to watch that one the best. Too goon did heaven assort its claim, 
I chose it at once for my guiding star, •^ n< ^ *^ 8 own awa Y I 
And marked its position with care, M ? Mai Y 8 worth . Mai Y 8 charms 
Not doubting that when in my home afar, Can never more return ! 
It would visit me nightly there. What now 8,laI1 fm these widowed arms? 
Ah, me ! my Mary’s urn ! 
But vainly I’ve looked for its light to appear— Ah, me ! all, me ! ray Mary’s urn !’ ’’ 
My spirits there seemeth a pall on— __ 
For now I’ve not seen it for almost a year, _ 
And I’m certain my star must have fallen. THE WOMEN OP PERU. 
Azalia Ermione. 
Schoolcraft, Mich., June 27, 1856. Of all the Spanish customs of the olden time 
aiiy. 
DO YOUR BEST. 
among her earliest and deepest impressions, 
gave a coloring to her whole life. Hers was 
the religion taught by the Savior of man. She 
was a firm believer in the faith inculcated by 
the Church (Episcopal) in which she was bred. 
“I have lost her, and with her have lost the 
solace of my life! Yet she remains still the 
companion of my retired hours, still occupies 
my inmost bosom. When alone and unem¬ 
ployed, my mind still recurs to her. More 
thaa a thousand times since the 25th of Decem¬ 
ber, 1831, have I repeated to myself the beau¬ 
tiful lines written by General Burgoyne, under 
a similar affliction, substituting 'Mary’ for 
‘ Anna :’ 
‘ Encompassed in an angel’s frame, 
An angel’s virtues lay ; 
Too soon did heaven assert its claim, 
And take its own away ! 
My Mary’s worth, my Mary’s charms 
Can never more return ! 
What now shall fill these widowed arms? 
Ah, me ! my Mary’s urn ! 
Ah, me ! ah, me ! my Mary’s urn !’ ’’ 
Tiik times are hard, an’ fortune shy, 
Has lang been ilka grummler story, 
But work aye on, an’ aim aye high, 
The harder work—the greater glory. 
The honest mind, the sterling man, 
The chains o’ poortitli canna fetter ; 
So strive, an’ do the best ye can, 
An’ tak my word, ye’ll sune be better. 
Although ye toil for little gear— 
Tho’ wiles your labor may be slichted, 
The darkest sky is sure to clear, 
An’ virtues wrangs wi’ aye be richted. 
Ne’er deem yoursel’ an ill-used man, 
Nor ca’ the world a heartless debtor, 
But strive, and do the best ye can, 
An’ tak my word, ye’ll sune be better. 
Oh, sweet is freedom’s caller air, 
An’ sweet is bread o’ aine’sain winning! 
To work, and win, be aye your care, 
Great things hae aft a sma’ beginning. 
Let nought e’er ding ye frae your plan ; 
Stick to your creed in ilka letter ; 
But strive to do the best ye can, 
An’ tak my word, ye’ll sune be better. 
[James Ballantyne. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
WHERE ARE THEY P 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
WOMAN’S MISSION. 
And marked its position with care, M 7 Mary’s worth, my Mary’s charms WlIAT has become of all the modest, quiet, 
Not doubting that when in my home afar, dan ncver more return ■ home-loving young ladies we used to see in old 
It would Visit me nightly there. VV ^ at ^"Vm^MaryV^ese widowed arms.- times, and read of now occasionally? The 
But vainly I’ve looked for its light to appear— A h| me ! ah, me ! my Mary’s urn !’ ’’ sweet, kind sister, and respectful daughter, 
My spirits there seemeth a pall on— .-_ who shared her mother’s cares and duties, and 
For now I’ve not seen it for almost a year, _ . 
And I'm certain my star must have fallen. THE WOMEN OP PERU. was at once the pride and ornament of the fam- 
Azalia Ermione. - ily c l rc l e ? Always dressed according to her 
Schoolcraft, Mich., June 27, 1856. Of .all the Spanish customs of the olden time position and occupation, conscious of being be- 
-- devotion to women is preserved in perfect purity loved and useful, she was calm, self-possessed, 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. only in Peru. The loving husband, with liis graceful, and could receive her friends without 
WOMAN’S MISSION. ardent, poetic imagination, delights in being flurry, or apologies, or blushes, because she was 
_ the slave of his lady. The fair senoras make found engaged in some useful employment.— 
In these days of the frequent discussion of the largest demands on gallantry, and the Now-a-days most of girls, especially those who 
“Woman s rights and wrongs,” her mission is slightest lack of watchfulness often excites re- occupy what is called a “position in society,” 
apparently overlooked by a large number of her sentment which will not be appeased. In take pains to have it understood that“Ma keeps 
sex. I would here briefly notice a few of the company u gentleman approaches a lady only a hired girl, and we take music lessons,” <tc., 
( uties properly belonging to her sphere. when he can show her some little attention.— and they are generally dressed for calls and 
As a child her mission is to cheer the heart Above all, her right is supreme to the first promenading, and spend the rest of the time 
of her parent when oppressed by care, using places and the strongest expressions of devo- among fine muslins and zephyrs, as their very 
her tiny hand to wipe the tear from the cheek tion. People do not say here as elsewhere, “ I white,smooth, ringed fingers abundantly testify, 
of the sorrowing, and by her lively prattle have the honor to present my compliments to Nor is this class confined to the large cities, 
send a ray of light, and a beam of hope, into you,” or, “ How do you do ? ” but, “ Senora, I or to the wealthy, but all our little country vil- 
the heart of the lonely. As she grows in kiss your feet.” lages, and even farmers’ daughters—yes, and 
strength and stature, it becomes her privilege “Proposing," in Peru, is very romantic. The tlie very “hired girls,” are getting exceedingly 
to make some part of home pleasant, and to suitor appears on the appointed evening with a tasty and g^Uml, wearing rings, flounces, and 
present at table some dish prepared by her gaily-dressed troubadour under the balcony of furbelows generally, so that if you meet one in 
•own bands—to greet brothers and sisters with his beloved ; the singer steps before her flower- the street, il is difficult to tell her “ position,”— 
smiles and cheerfulness, and by her affectionate decked window, and sings her beauties in the only, as il happens, a true lady never dresses in 
kindness make home far more attractive than name 0 f the lover. He compares her size to that flimsy, flaring, tawdry manner. Out upon 
those places of amusement which so frequently that of a palm-tree, her lips to two blushing these follies, girls. What if you should not 
draw unsuspecting youth into the regions of rose-buds, and her womanly form to that of the ha PP cn to 8eo t,lc last fashion plate, and did 
vice and wickedness. dove. With assumed harshness the lady asks uot get your calico dress, that you ought be at 
It is also a part of Woman’s mission to teach; the lover : « Who are you, and what do you work in > <3 uit e as lwD &’ to wilhin the sixteenth 
and when sunounded by affectionate pupils, want?" He answers with ardent confidence: of an inch, as Miss Would-be’s over the way, 
who look to her for guidance, she should feel “ Thee do I adore ; the stars live in the harmo- which sweeps about an eighth of a yard on the 
that hers is a high and holy mission, which, if ny of love, and why should not we, too, love ground—nor your flowing sleeves quite as deep 
rightly performed, will crown her with honor, each other?” Then the proud beauty gives —nor your puff combs exactly the pattern of 
and will be felt through the ceaseless ages of herself away; she takes her flower wreath from hers—nor your hooped skirts guile as spread- 
oternity. The Sabbath School, too, opens to her hair and throws it down to her lover, ing, ‘^c. ? What of it? Do you think the 
Union would be dissolved ? Or would it post¬ 
pone your mueb-desired union with some 
“unexceptionable” young gentleman ? 
Dear me, indeed 1 What now ? How offend- 
Iier a field of usefulness. Here she may sit, promising to be his own forever.— Selected. Union would be dissolved ? Or would it post- 
eurrounded by beaming faces, and point them _, »_ pone your much-desired union with some 
lo eternanife, even through Christ. DUTIES OP A MOTHER. “ unexceptionable” young gentleman ? 
Should her spirit crave a more extended - Dear me, indeed 1 What now ? Howoffend- 
sphere, she may visit the abodes of penury and ® HE 8kou l d be firm, gentle, kind, always e d you seem 1 “Why you never tho't of such 
affliction. She, better than any other, can com- 'eady to attend to her child. She should never a thing in your whole life 1” Please pardon._ 
fort the afflicted, and pour the balm of consola- biugh at him—at what he does that is cunning ()f course you never did 1 But then, dear girls, 
tion into wounded hearts—diffusing happiness —never allow him to think of his looks, except i,] ie re are many ignorant, old-fashioned, but 
and sunshine around her path. As a social be- to be neat and clean in all his habits. She we ll-meaning people, who are apt to think, 
ing too, woman has peculiar qualities ; by her should teach him to obey a look—to respect w ] ien they see such a display of white hands 
tact, quarrels may be prevented, bitter enmity Ibose older than himself; she should never avmSj an d bosoms, and so much affectation! 
avoided, and the bands of social brotherhood make a command, without seeing that it is per- simpering and fluttering, and such a hubbub, 
be still closer drawn. formed in the right manner. Never speak of and so many “oil’s and all’s,” <fec., that young 
But the most endearing relations Woman can the child’s faults or foibles, or repeat his remarks ] a( ii e s really are afraid their excessive charms 
sustain, are those of Wife and Mother. When before him. It is a sure way to spoil a child. anc i a ttractions will not be discovered and ap- 
she becomes these, her appropriate sphere is ^ ever reprove a child when excited, nor let predated—when just a little coolness and pa- 
circle, than when she usurps the places for 
which man is better fitted. b. 
Gorham, N. Y., July, 1856. 
JUDGE MARSHALL AND HIS WIFE. 
Home. To make home pleasant to those who Y our tone °f voice be raised when correcting, tience, modesty, and a few other rare qualities, 
are, or should be, dearer than aught else on Strive to inspire love, not dread—respect, not WO uld bring all these things about in due 
earth, will necessarily claim most of her atten- f ear * Remember you are training and educa- season, and in a proper manner. The truth is, 
tion and exertion. This, in connection with ting a 80ld f° r eternity. Teach your children Q ur fashionable young ladies drive all really 
some duties of her family, will, if faithfully to wait upon themselves, to put away a thing sensible men, who are fit to be husbands, far 
attended to, remove the desire to shine as leg- when done with it. But do not forget that you a way from them. No matter whether they 
islators, or popular lecturers. For the right were once a child. The griefs of the little ones have a fortune or not, they wish a wife to pos- 
performance of these duties, her mind needs are too often neglected ; they are great for them. 8 ess plain common sense, and true independ- 
thorougli cultivation ; and her opinions are far Bear patiently with them, and never, in any ence; and moreover, they desire your minds to 
more respected, when delivered in the social wa y> 1'ouse their anger, if it can be avoided.— be sufficiently free from folly and prejudice to 
circle, than when she usurps the places for Teach a child to be useful wheneveropportuity give them a sincere and true affection, 
which man is better fitted. b. may offer. — Selected. Do young women ever seriously think about 
Gorham, N. Y., July, 1856. +—*— — their destiny and position in the world — for 
-*—«.- Ones Mother. Around the idea of one’s what purpose they were created and designed? 
JUDGE MARSHALL AND HIS WIFE, mother the mind clings with fond affection. It Do they study the laws of Physiology, and 
- is the first dear thought stamped upon our in- endeavor to render themselves capable toadorn 
The strength as well as tenderness of Judge fant hearts, when soft and capable of receiving Die most beautiful and holy office on earth _ 
Marshall’s attachment to Mrs. Marshall, will most profound impressions, and all the after that of wife and mother ? Then do not consider 
appear from the following affecting tribute to feelings are more or less light in comparison.— yourselves mere waxen dolls, or parti-colored 
her memory, written by himself, December Our passions and our wilfulness may lead us butterflies, or walking show cases, any longer. 
25th, 1832 : from the object of our filial love ; we may be- How many of you have ever heard of the advice 
“This day of joy and festivity to the whole come wild, headstrong, and angry at her coun- 0 nce given by a very sensible, but antiquated 
Christian world is, to my sad heart, the anni- sels or opposition ; but when death has stilled 0 ld bachelor? Speaking of a lady’s truest 
versary of the keenest affliction which humani- her monitory voice, and nothing but calm attractions, he says_“ Whose adorning, let it 
ty can sustain. While all around is gladness, memory remains to recapitulate her good deeds, not be that outward adorning of plaiting the 
my mind dwells on the silent tomb, and cher- affection, like a flower beaten to the ground by ] ia i rj arK i 0 f wearing of gold, or of putting on 
ishes the remembrance of the .beloved object a rude storm, raises up her head and smiles of apparel; but let it be the hidden man of the 
which it contains. amidst her tears. Around thatidea, as we have heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the 
“ 0h the 25t h of December, 1831, it was the said, the mind clings with fond affection ; and ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is, 
will of heaven to take to itself the companion even when the earlier period of our loss forces in the sight of Goo, of great price.” 
who had sweetened the choicest part of my memory to be silent, fancy takes the place of " Ultra. 
life, had rendered toil a pleasure, had partaken remembrance and twines the image of our de- -— 
of all my feelings, and was enthroned in the parted parent with a garland of graces, and Goon Humor is the clear blue sky of the soul, 
inmost recess of my heart. Never can I cease beauties, and virtues, which we doubt not that °n which every star of talent will shine more 
to feel the loss and to deplore it. Grief for her s he possessed. clearly, and the sun of genius encounfer no 
is too sacred ever to be profaned on this day, -- vapors in its passage. It is like the most ex- 
which shall be, during my existence, marked The Present and the Future. —It is strange quisite beauty in a fine face ; a redeeming grace 
by a recollection of her virtues. that the experience of so many ages should not in a homely one. It is like the green in a 
“On the 3d of January, 1783, IJwas united make us judge more solidly of the present and landscape, harmonizing every color, mellow- 
by the holiest bands to the woman I adored, of tlie future, so as to take proper measures in ing the light, and softening the lines of the dark; 
From the moment of our union, to that of our the one for tlie other. We doatupon this world or like the flute in a full concert of instruments, 
separation, I never ceased to thank heaven for as if it were never to have an end, and we neg- —a sound not at first discovered by the ear, yet 
this its best gift. Not a moment passed which lect tho next as if it were never to have a be- filling up the breaks in the concord with its 
I did not consider her as a blessing from which ginning.— Fcnclon. deep melody. 
NECESSITY OF FRIENDS. 
The members of tlie great human family ap- 
: pear to have scarcely begun to learn how much 
we depend on one another. “ I perish for the 
want of friends 1” cried Napoleon Bonaparte, in 
a paroxysm of anguish. With what intense 
anxiety did Washington call for friends from 
Congress in the darkest days of our revolution 1 
Even the Saviour of the world has left on record 
the fact that he did not many mighty works in 
the city of his kindred, because be wanted 
friends. 
It is said to be an old and practical maxim 
that “ there is no friendship in trade.” We do 
not believe it, and we do not mean our readers 
shall, if we can help it. That maxim is a selfish, 
wicked, cruel one; aud we call on honest and 
fair men everywhere to scout it out of existence. 
No friendship in trade ! No unselfish kindness 
among business men 1 Can this be so ? Is it 
indeed true that in commercial circles every 
man is to look on his neighbor as a villain and 
a scoundrel ? Has confidence between man 
and man been destroyed by the tricks of traffic ? 
We do not believe it. We will not believe it. 
Go preach such a doctrine to Hottentots, savages 
and pirates. It cannot be true of the mercantile 
classes of America. 
We are of tho opinion that a new pecuniary 
crisis may be at hand, ere long, and we have 
• therefore alluded to this subject for the purpose 
of pressing home on the tens of thousands who 
read our paper, the necessity of friendship in 
all the relations of life. There is great danger, 
we fear, that these common things will be driven 
out of right in these stirring times. In the 
haste of men to be rich, when the facilities of 
intercourse, and the appliances of trade are so 
greatly increased, the obligations of kindliness 
and friendly regard are very liable to be over¬ 
looked. With many active business men, busi¬ 
ness becomes a scrabble, and they will climb 
and climb to reach the topmost round in the 
ladder of wealth, at times not stopping to think 
how hard they may tread on the hands of those 
who have grasped the rounds below them.— 
Look back a moment and see who is struggling 
by your side ! Do not act as if all tlie world 
was made for you and your family. Be friendly. 
Be kindly. Others must live as well as you. 
Remember bow hard you have had to struggle 
yourself, and lend a helping hand to your 
neighbor. What if you lose now and then ? 
What if you are disappointed in your calcu¬ 
lations of men ? Do not refuse to do a new 
friendly act on that account. Think of your 
own short-comings. Be forgiving. Befriend 
the needy in time of trial, and you will be the 
gainer in the end.— Olive Branch. 
NAPOLEON III. 
Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, the present 
Emperor of the French, was born on the 20th 
of April, 1808, at the Tuilleries. His mother 
was Hortense, Queen of Holland, the wife of 
Napoleon’s brother, Louis, to whom that king¬ 
dom had been assigned. Tlie marriage of 
Hortense and Louis was most unfortunate ; they 
did nothing but quarrel, and in September, 
1807, they finally separated at Amsterdam, and 
Hortense returned to her mother in Paris.— 
There the present Emperor was born, and it is 
remarkable that be aud the King of Rome 
were the only two persons of the family of Na¬ 
poleon whose births were received with mili¬ 
tary honors and the homage of the people. 
There is one circumstance connected with the 
fate of this family which historians have not as 
yet observed, but which is well worth mention. 
Napoleou the Great set aside his own best 
friend aud councillor, to obtain an heir to tlie 
throne of France. He married a Princess of 
Austria, and by her he had a son. That birth 
was the culminating point of his power and his 
dignity. From thence he did nothing but de¬ 
scend. He died in exile—his son also. Who 
succeeded to his name, his fame, his power ?— 
The child of Hortense, who was the child of 
Josephine 1 In the person of the Emperor of 
the French, we find not the offspring of Napo¬ 
leon the Great, hut the offspring of his discarded 
wife. What an illustration of the truth of the 
adage : “ That it is man who proposes but God 
who disposes 1”— Selected. 
EVIL COMPANY. 
Sophronius, a wise teacher of the people, did 
not allow his sons and daughters, even when 
they were grown up, to associate with persons 
whose lives were not moral and pure. 
“ Father,” said the gentle Eulalie, one day 
when he refused to permit her to go, in compa¬ 
ny with her brother, to visit the frivolous Lu¬ 
cinda—“ Father, you must think that we are 
very weak and childish, since you are afraid 
that it would be dangerous to us in visiting 
Lucinda.” 
Without saying a word, the father took a coal 
from the hearth and handed it to his daughter. 
“It will not burn you, my child,” said be, 
“only take it." 
Eulalia took the coal, and beheld her tender 
white hand was black ; and without thinjrihg 
she touched her white dress, and it was black¬ 
ened. 
“ See," said Eulalia, somewhat displeased, as 
she looked at her hands and dress, “one cannot 
be careful enough when handling coals." 
“Yes, truly," said her father. “You see my 
child, that the coal, even though it did not burn 
you, has nevertheless blackened you. So is the 
company of immoral persons." 
A fool, says the Arab, may be known by six 
things : anger without cause, speech without 
profit, change without motive, inquiry without 
object, putting trust in a stranger, and not 
knowing his friends from his foes. 
FRANKNESS. 
Frankness is supposed to be a common vir¬ 
tue. It is most uncommon. It is indeed an 
extraordinary thing. It requires truth, sim¬ 
plicity, love and genuine goodness. Men speak 
plainly when they do speak, but they are not 
open and free. Many speak truth very plainly 
when angry ; many speak pleasant truth frank¬ 
ly. But few there are whose souls are so bal¬ 
anced in an atmosphere of love that they speak 
whatever needs to he said, to each and to all, 
plainly, gently, fully. The dearest friends live 
together for years without daring to speak 
things which they know, and which 'each party 
is aware that the other knows. Parents live 
with a reserve years long toward their children. 
Children carry untouched, unsyllabled, thoughts 
and feelings that take hold of their being.— 
Friends meet and part day by day, friends so 
true, that they would almost die for each other, 
or what is harder than this, who are willing to 
live for each other, and never speak of things 
that each knows is passing in the other’s mind. 
It is very strange to see people come up in con¬ 
versation to topics that, b}' a tacit free-masonry, 
are sacred, and, without word or look, one glides 
past on one side, and the other upon the other 
side, and meet beyond, going down the common 
channel again. Was there ever a thoughtful, 
sensitive person, that dared to be open, trans¬ 
parent, frank. 
But, however this may be, there can be no 
doubt that Christian people are not frank 
enough for each other’s good. If men knew 
how to speak the truth in love, how rich might 
one become. A man might stand then in the 
focus of the wisdom of all his friends. But, 
refusing to let their light shine, men now grope 
in the partial light of their own wisdom, dis¬ 
tempered by self-love.— N. Y. Independent. 
ILL TEMPER. 
We sometimes meet with men who seem to 
think that any indulgence in an affectionate 
feeling is weakness. They will return from a 
journey, and greet their families with a distant 
dignity, and move among their children with 
the cold and lofty splendor of an iceberg, sur¬ 
rounded by its broken fragments. There is 
hardly a more unnatural sight on earth than 
one of these families without a heart. A father 
had better extinguish a boy’s eyes than take 
away Iris heart. Who that lias experienced the 
joys of friendship, and value sympathy aud af¬ 
fection, would not rather lose all that is beauti¬ 
ful in nature’s scenery, than be robbed of the 
hidden treasure of bis heart ? Cherish, then, 
your heart’s best affections. Indulge in the 
warm, gushing emotions of filial, parental and 
fraternal love. Think it not a weakness. God 
is love. Love God, everybody and everything 
that is lovely. Teach your children to love, to 
love the rose, the robin,— to love their parents, 
to love their God. Let it be the studied object 
of their domestic culture, to give them warm 
hearts and ardent affections. Bind your family 
together by these strong chords.— Dr. Hall’s 
Medical Journal. 
FRIDAY NOT AN UNLUCKY DAY. 
This day, which has been long superstitious- 
ly regarded as a day of ill-omen, lias been an 
eventful one in American history. On Friday 
Christopher Columbus sailed on his voyage of 
discovery ; on Friday lie—though unknown to 
himself—discovered the continent of America; 
on Friday, Henry III. of England gave to John 
Cobal t his commission which led to the discov¬ 
ery of Nortli America ; on Friday, St. Augus¬ 
tine, the oldest town in the United States, was 
founded ; on Friday, the Mayflower, with the 
Pilgrims, made the harbor of Provincetown, 
and on the same day they signed that august 
compact, the forerunner of the present Consti¬ 
tution ; on Friday, George Washington was 
born ; on Friday, Bunker Hill was seized and 
fortified ; on Friday, the surrender of Saratoga 
was made; on Friday, the surrender of Corn¬ 
wallis at Yorktown occurred, the crowning 
glory of American arms ; on Friday tho motion 
was made in Congress that the United Colonies 
were, and of right ought to be free and inde¬ 
pendent. Americans surely need not be afraid 
of Friday.— Selected. 
Mountains. —Mountains are, to the rest of tlie 
earth, what muscular action is to tho body of 
man. The muscles and tendons of its anatomy 
are, in the mountain, brought out with force and 
convulsive energy, full of expression, d 3 * 88 ! 011 
and strength, the plains and lower hills are the 
repose, and the effortless motion of the frame, 
when its muscles lie dormant and concealed 
beneath the lines of its beauty, yet ruling those 
lines in their every undulation. This, then, is 
the first grand principle of the truth of the 
earth. The spirit of the hills is action—thatof 
lowlands, repose ; and between these there is to 
be found every variety of motion and of rest, 
from the inactive plain, sleeping like the firma¬ 
ment, with cities for stars, to the fiery peaks, 
which with heaving bosoms and exulting limbs 
with the clouds drifting like hair from their 
bright foreheads, lift up their Titan hands to 
heaven, saying, “ I live for ever."— Ruskin. 
Courtesy. —No man is a gentleman, who, 
without provocation, would treat with incivility 
the humblest of his species. It is a vulgarity 
for which no accomplishments and no attain¬ 
ments nor dress can ever atone. Show me the 
man who desires to make every one happy 
around him, and whoso greatest solicitude is 
never to give just offence to any one, and I will 
show you a gentleman by nature and practice, 
although he may never have worn a suit of 
broadcloth, nor ever heard of a lexicon.— Sel. 
