MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
AUGUST 9. 
CONDUCTED BY AZILE. 
Written lor the Rural New-Yorker. 
BY CARRIE 0. CROOKS. 
Yes, life has lost a charm, Alice, 
Since we kDelt side by side, 
And breathed in silent prayer, Alice, 
That He in peace would guide 
And keep the ones we loved, Alice, 
With his Almighty hand ; 
That we might meet again, Alice, 
In an unbroken band. 
Oh 1 yes, I know your tears, Alice, 
For him, are flowing fast, 
Who, in his manly pride, Alice, 
Hath to his Father passed. 
Yes, he was young to die, Alice, 
So loved, it does not seem 
To me, that he is dead, Alice. 
Oh ! would it were a dream. 
’Twas hard to give him up, Alice, 
We miss him everywhere 
That we were wont to meet, Alice, 
And at the hour of prayer 
We list his coming feet, Alice, 
And watch his vacant chair 
As if he would return, Alice, 
And join the loved ones there. 
But the grave near yonder grove, Alice, 
Where sods are moist with tears,] 
Tells us that he has gone, Alice,— 
But an angel form appears 
With a crown and harp of gold, Alice, 
And beckons to the skies, 
Where tears are never shed, Alice, 
And Friendship never dies. 
Honeoye, N. Y., July, 1856. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
A WAIF. 
A CHAPTER FOR PARENTS. 
HOW TO MAKE BOYS LOVE HOME. 
“ I wish those boys loved to stay at home in 
the evening,” said a mother in my hearing, last 
night; and the sigh and look of distress which 
accompanied her words, told plainly that her 
heart was deeply pained by their oft-repeated 
absence, and she watched their retreating foot¬ 
steps with a troubled countenance, and knew 
not what might be the company they sought, 
nor what evil influence might be thrown around 
them. 
They were industrious boys of sixteen and 
eighteen, just beginning to fancy they were too 
large and too old to be longer subject to pa¬ 
rental authority. They were not vicious or 
idle, but worked with a willing hand through 
the day, doing the work of men; but when 
evening came, they sought pleasure abroad, un¬ 
mindful of a father’s advice, or a mother’s 
entreaty. I glanced around their home, a com¬ 
fortable, farmer-like dwelling, where all the 
wants of the physical nature were well supplied, 
but, as is too often the case, the food for the 
mind was less abundant. A few school books, 
which the boys had never learned to love, a 
Bible, and a hymn book, constituted the family 
library ; and I was not surprised that they 
should leave the circle at home, and seek the 
cheerful throng that were lounging in the store, 
or join in the vulgar mirth and profane jests 
that went round the boisterous group. 
“ You are seeing your happiest days with 
your boy,” said the mother to me, as my baby 
clung to my arm with the sweet confidence of 
infancy; “you know where he is, and have no 
©ijfliff pjscflliray. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
SUMMER, BRIGHT SUMMER! 
BY MRS. PIDSLEY. 
Summer is come with its flowers and bees,— 
Sweet birds are singing among the green trees ; 
Wasps, idle fellows, array’d in their best, 
And the gay butterfly never at rest, 
Say Summer is come. 
The murmuring brook as it ripples along, 
Gliding or dashing the pebbles among, 
Laves the bright flowers that grow on its banks, 
Shedding sweet perfume to breathe forth their thanks 
That Summer is come. 
Gay Nature has donn’d her brightest attire, 
The sun’s rays are gilding cottage and spire, 
Young hearts are bounding and eyes flash with glee, 
Roaming the woodlands so joyous and free, 
For Summer is come. 
The school door is open, children rush out— 
Hark to their merry noise ! list to that shout; 
High in the air hats, caps they are flinging— 
Hand joined in hand together they’re singing, 
Oh! Summer is come. 
Play on, ye light-hearted—play whilst ye may, 
Childhood will flee like a bright summer day ; 
The stream may roll on, ’t has done so before, 
But where ’ll be the flowers that grew oh its shore ? 
Oh ! wither’d aad gone. 
East Homer, N. Y., July, 1856. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
RURAL LIFE. 
“And this our life, exempt from public haunt. 
Finds tongues in trees, books in running streams, 
Sermons in stones, and good in everything.” 
BE CONTENT! 
Freeman Hunt, in his - Worth and Wealth,” 
thus pictures the charms of a contented spirit— 
ALICY GREY. 
[Concluded from page 260, this No.] 
For several days Alice’s wild ravings con- 
such an one as is written, “ a contented mind is tinned, and then she sunk into a state of stupor, 
a continual feast. “ 1 lie health, and strength, a more alarming symptom still, and Harry be- 
and freshness, and sweet sleep of youth, are g an ^ f ear that in case of her recovery her in- 
yours. Young Love, by day and night encir- tellect would be forever clouded. In those 
cles you. Hearts unsoiled by the deep sin of long hours of watching by her bedside, lie 
covetousness, beat fondly with your own.— brought his heart to the tribunal and tried to 
None—ghoul-like—listen for the death-tick in analyze his feelings toward her. The first 
your chamber. Y our shoes have value in men s news of her danger had brought a thrill of pain 
eyes, only when you tread in them. The almost unexpected, and as day by day he 
smiles no wealth can purchase greet you, liv- marked the wasting of the fever-pain, and saw 
ing; and tears that rarely drop on rosewood the restless hands tossing more and more weari- 
coffins, will /all from pitying eyes upon you, ly—as the fear of her death began to take shape 
dying. Be wise in being content with compe- in his mind —then he learned to know what 
tency. You have, to eat, to drink, to wear, Alice really was to him, and to think how the 
enough ? then have you all the rich man hath, shadow of her grave « might darken over all 
What though he fares more sumptuously ? He the world.” 
shortens life-increases pains and aches-im- At ]ast she revived from her death-like stu- 
pairs his health thereby. What if Ins raiments por , and in the languid eyes turned wearily 
be more costly ? God loves him none the more, upon him, there was no wi i dne s S _only wonder 
and man’s respect in such regard comes ever a t seeing him beside her. The inmriri™ i™v 
mingled with his envy. 
at seeing him beside her. The inquiring look 
and the questioning lips were answered with a 
Nature is yours in all her glory ; her ever- g]ad smlle> and a firm) decided „ Hush ,.. and 
varying and forever beautiful face smiles peace she closed her eyes and slept, gently as an in- 
upon you. Her bills and valleys, fields and fant . There was a gladness too deep for words 
flowers, and rocks, and streams, and holy in Harry Browning’s heart as he watched that 
places, know no desecration in the step of pov- slumber —a healing gift from the merciful 
erty ; but welcome ever to their wealth of Father. He watched until her breathing grew 
cheerful throng that were lounging in the store, **** beauty—rich and poor alike. o ^ i j ,, 
rwr i r» tiin Trnirrov rv*iwi i f • > Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. -p . . , , . deep ana long, and a faint flush tinged the 
or join m the vulgar mirth and profane jests KUBAL LIpB Be content! The robin chirps as gayly as cheek where the fever had burned g0 fiercel 
that went round the boisterous group. _ * the gorgeous bird of Paradise. Less gaudy is and then , with one mufct ered prayer of thankg- 
“You are seeing your happiest days with “And this our life, exempt from public haunt, his plumage, less splendid his surroundings.— giving swelling in his heart, he softly left the 
your boy,” said the mother to me, as my baby Finds tongues in trees, books in running streams, Yet no joy that cheers the eastern beauty, but room> YVhen Alice wakened May was alone 
clung to my arm with the sweet confidence of Sermons in stones, and good in everything.” comes upon his barren hills to bless the nest w jtli her, and as she softly pronounced her 
infancy; “you know where he is, and have no The Poet’s “ Exiled Duke” speaks the true that robin builds. His flight’s as strong, his name, the impulsive child threw her arms about 
anxiety for him now; but when he is older, he sentiments of a well cultivated mind and heart, note as gay ; and in his humble home the light her and burst into tears. “Oh, Alice, love 
will be beyond your influence, and go you There is ever a fount of pure pleasure to the of happiness shines all as bright, because no 
know not where.” * Student of Nature, which, while it gives hap- cloud of envy dims it. Let us, then, labor and 
I thought of the old proverb “Train up a piness, life and all that the mysterious fountain be strong, in the best use of that we have ; wast- 
Like the rich tones of some mighty harp ^ thought of the old proverb, “ Tiain up a 
of the Moorish fable could, furnishes in addi- ing no golden hours in idle wishes for things mus fc no t talk to 
you’ll get well now— Harry says so !” 
“Have I been very sick, May ?” 
“ Oh, Alice ! so sick ! so very sick! But you 
comes wild shrieks and laughter as the furious . fc - remarked> tha ^ parents e • more gave them such instructions as Art, even in the content, the poorest man is rich ; while he who 
s eecs o ie orm- ung ius mac y c own t ie j ln the society 0 f their c h; ldreu in in _ meridian of its glory has failed to give to its counts his millions, hath little joy if he be oth- 
mountain. The lake bounds and foams beneath “ , „ 
,, . , ,, , , , ,, . . fancy, than in youth and maturity ? If so, s ^ uc ‘ en ^ s since. erwise. 
their tramp, till it almost touches the cloud- ; ’ . J J ’ rrn p _ f „ 11; „ 
, . f iv, i - n k f it T i ci surely there is a reason, and that reason too ^ be Genius °* I oetry is a spirit dwelling -- 
drapery o e n s a cm n ie s y t e { regult 0 f parental mistakes in the amid g roves and g rottoes - It withdraws from THE USEFUL AND BEAUTIFUL. 
cold grey clouds hare darkened every golden ^ seeirty, and retires to the abode, of innocence - 
Itght yet through the.r Cage ever and anon 7 P fte d of intelIect and parity. Brno, enjoyed most its presence T„ tomb of Mose, is nnltnotvn, but the 
peereth the moon-heaven s pale spmt. It „ ^impatience the first indistinct effort •—«tb. Alps. B.,„„ among tho verdant £«>«• M* at the veil oi Jacob, 
an hour of tvondrons beauty, and the soul goes and £ e , eased wilh ... . . woods, and Buitss found it upon the sedgy The gorgeous palace of the wisest of monarch., 
up to the ugh Fount of Light, drinking in prattle ’ and it see ms strange that the pleasures banks of bright streams, “ where flowers sprang with the cedar, and gold, and ivory, and even 
strength W'th every ghmpse of heaven. ™«« to be pressed" and "vines twi.ed'am! the Temp,e of Jerusalem Moved by the vis- 
How blest and beautiful the spirit that walks „ row i n< r intelligence. orous round the enraptured scene”. The doc- ble g loi T of the Deit J itself, are gone ; but Sol- 
out now and meets it Maker in the storm— lov- b & t trine of ihe Pantheists, re^ardina’all as omon’s reservoirs are as perfect as ever. Of the 
ing and worshiping: who hears deep voices . . l ] we caan0 ®^ peC c 11 ren ° e like our- “ One stupendous whole, ancient architecture of the Holy City, not one 
round him, and in his own heart finds an echo SC . VeS ’ 8 ° aC ‘ V ’ °, ’ a ° ca,e ‘ worn - bun and Whose body Nature is, and God the soul.” stone is left upon another ; but the pool of Be- 
to their music : who gazes with charmed vision 10 , lc . ai e essen la 0 ^ ieu . appiB ®f s ’ and 1S m be absurd; ye t the Creator has left an im- tbesda commands the pilgrim’s reverence to the 
on the love, and power, and glory displayed in D ° n fl ur y _ 0 an y 0 J' ,m ear 1 7 ln 1 press c f his Spirit upon his works. The love, present day. The columns of Persepolis are 
the creations of the Great Father. hood.Ynd take the lead of their "pleas” res' in P° wer “<• »*•*» «• *** °< <«**?* <l “ st ; but its cisterns and 
Yet far more beautiful and blest is he who youth we sha n keep our own hearts youn-'and the Creator Can be Seea ia m 7 riads of thti ob - aqueducts remain to challenge our admiration, 
treads ’mid tempests of woe, forgetting not God— joyous, make home the centre of attractions and je'ets which surround us. Each tree has a The golden house of Nero is a mass of ruins ; 
hearing ever the minstrelsy of His angels ; yea, while doing much to educate their mental fac- “ t 0 D g ue ” tbat speaks His perfection. Every but the Aqua Claudia still pours into Rome its 
bearing a heaven-toned instrument in his own „it: pc we shall find a far-reater sutisf-irtinn in stone reads a “sermon” on His omnipotence, and limpid stream, ibe l emple ot the Sun, at Tad- 
steeds of the Storm-King rush madly down the h f ard 11 remarked, that parents enjoy more 
mountain. The lake bounds and foams beneath pleasure 1B the S0Ciet Y of their childrea ia in- 
their tramp, till it almost touches the cloud- fanc f’ tba, ‘ m y° uth and “ atorit 7 ? « so, 
drapery of the hills about it. In the sky the Sare y t . here 1S . a ^ eason ’ and that rea8011 to ° 
cold, grey clouds have darkened every golden 
light, yet through their foliage ever and anon 
to talk, and are pleased with their infantile woods> and BuRXS fouud ifc u P on t}) e sedgy The gorgeous palace of the wisest of monarchs, day> and rightly conjectured that when, with 
prattle, and it seems strange that the pleasures banks of bright streams, “ where flowers sprang nr, <mc go ( , anc lvoi y and even the burning in her brain, she had laid her head 
must not talk to me now. Harry told me not, 
but I was so glad”—and with a resolute look, 
May walked to the table aud prepared to write. 
“ May, just one word—what was the matter ? 
I remember something—but somehow my head 
is confused." 
“Hush! or I’ll tell Harry —I shan’t talk a 
word to-night.” 
So Alice, left to ber own thoughts, for a time 
tried in vain to collect them and unravel what 
was to her a mystery—yet after a time she re¬ 
membered all the events of that dark Wednes- 
of social intercourse should diminish with their ' wanton t0 be pressed” aud “vines twined am 
growing intelligence. 
Butwe cannot expect children to be like our¬ 
selves, steady, old, and care-worn. Fun and 
frolic are essential to their happiness, and it is 
no injury to any one to join heartily in these 
sports. If we enter into their sports in child¬ 
hood, and take the lead of their pleasures in 
orous round the enraptured scene’’. The doc- ___ __ ____ 
trine of the Pantheists, regarding all as omon’s reservoirs are as perfect as ever. Of the bad beD t°over her pillow on her first awakin- 
“One stupendous Whole, ancient architecture of the Holy City, not one to consciousness, the light that dawned upon it 
Whose body Nature is, aud God the soul.” stone is left upon another ; but the pool of Be- at her look of recogn i tiori , the mur mnred “ Oh 
may be absurd, yet the Creator has left an im- thesda commands the pilgrim’s reverence to the GoD) j lhank tbee , » tbat broke from tbe lipg 
press of his Spirit upon his works. The love, present day. The columns of Persepolis are that hushed her inquiries—all these came float- 
power and wisdom which dictated the hand of moldenng into the dust; but its cisterns and ing backj and wilh a f ee ii Bg more akb to per _ 
the Temple of Jerusalem, hallowed by the vis- 
ble glory of the Deity itself, are gone ; but Sol- 
the burning in her brain, she had laid her head 
down upon the window, the fever was already 
beginning to rage. Then the anxious face that 
“ Oue stupendous whole, 
Whose body Nature is, and God the soul.” 
that hushed her inquiries—all these came float¬ 
ing back, and with a feeling more akin to per¬ 
fect peace and rest than had blessed her life 
for many years, she fell asleep. 
I will show you two pictures, and say good 
bosom, whose notes are wakened only by the their society; than we can possibly find in the 
touch of happy spirits. He hears in the thun- artless triist of i E f aDC y. 
j _ _—__ j i_ i J 
ders an earnest of God’s power, and bows hum¬ 
bly to a Being so infinitely above him, yet with 
“ running streams” are but volumes of His wis- raoor ln the wilderness, lias fallen ; but its foun- Alice, still pale and weak from her recent 
dom and kindness. It is in the Creator’s works sparkle as freely in his rays as when illness, sitting upon a sofa in a pleasant, shaded 
. ,. . . ,. , , I that we discover His goodness, power and glory, tliousandsof worshipers thronged its lofty coIod- par ] or Harry Browning by her side with his 
A few dollars ludiciously expended in books Tir , . . n . . .. ,. , 6 . J Ti mav be that Lniuinn will stow ih. 1 ukuwmku uy ner siae wun nis 
, • J *, ,, , 1 I Wt love and venerate Him instinctively, when nac1 es. it may tie mat London v ill share the f ranktrr , an iyf aC elookintrdownuDonhersneak- 
d engravings suitable for vouno- children. will I . .. _l J uuwu upon nei, spedK- 
r ;-and engravings suitable for young children, will ^ . • 71 a/u’ " 7 , fate of Babvlon and nothin- be left to mark it* luoa.uguown upon ner, spean- 
a spirit high and holy, for he knows humility is do much tQ * ftken a ]ave ( f f ho ° e . , T we withdraw from society and tread the richly fate ot Habylon, and nothing be left to mark its ing guch earnest, blessed words as the living 
beautiful. He turns his soul’s gaze upward, and 
above the clouds sees the clear sky ; and far, 
far away, beyond tbe stars and the deep blue, 
an Eye of Love looks blissfully upon him.— 
Watching its sweet light, it seems to come down 
from its lofty home and live within himself. 
Round such an one is a halo of glory. By 
his purifying influence many erring ones are 
do much to awaken a love of home ; aud I ven¬ 
ture to assert, there is nothing which will have 
a stronger influence in keeping “those boys” 
quietly at home, than to cultivate a taste for , . J L 
-r, ■ , n j 4 , , heaven and silently whispers our duty of love 
reading. Begin early. Read to them before , 1T . „ , , ,, , . , , , 
* 0 , . r, , , . , to Him “who maketh the pleasant plant to 
they can read for themselves; explain what „ / 
, , ,, , 1 . , grow. The wild waters, as they leap the 
you read, and encourage them to converse with , , 
rocky turrets which nature interposes between 
carpeted halls of His great temple, and we can Slte ’ save mounds of crumbling brickwork ; but beart treasures and hallows, and the carelef^ 
enjoy most of His presence where mute things the Thames will continue to flow as it does now. sbould never hear. Alice alone in her cliam- 
speak. The flower smilingly lifts its face to And if any work of art sbould still rise over tbe ber> pre 88 i ng a s l en der ring to her lips, and 
heaven and silently whispers our duty of love deep ocean of tlme ’ we ma 7 wel1 believe that rnurmur j ng softly—“More than beart can guess 
to Him “who maketh the pleasant plant to it will be neither palace nor temple, but some 0 r weak words tell, do I bless and love thee al- 
grow.” Tbe wild waters, as they leap the vast reserv0lr * if the light of any name wa y S# »» 
rockv turrets which nature interposes between should still flash through the mist of an- Snrincr ia flnaluno- inir, r/wal ii, no 
you about it. Teach them to observe the com- their courses , lou dl y call mun to their solitudes tiquity, it will probably be that of the man 
mon phenomena of nature, and to study into 4 n VP 1 )era t e the will which eauffid thsss mivlitv who, in his day, sought the happiness of his . • ° f » 1 , °. j 6 ,7 
the causes which produce the effects thev see t0 veneiaxe tue vin wmeu caused tnese mighty ’ f ’ & . , . , . tenng red roses from her jeweled hand, kind- 
the causes p o ce effects they see. powerg and turns t.beir courses at pleasure— fellow-men rather than glory and linked his Hng the earth to regal 8 p i oador) yet shilliDg no 
A mo er may o ns heiself without being The rugged mountain proudly lifts its head up memory to some great work of national utility where more gloriously thau around a fair raan . 
a philosopher. She may awaken their curiosity towards its Maker as the object of awe and and benevolence. This is the glory which out- sion iu p_ Part the leaves -entlv and here 
upon the various objects around them, and di- worship . The sky with its myriad stars, each aP other, and shines with undying lustre jn tfae vine . sbadows look and &U* if you will, 
rect them where this curiosity may be gratified, like tbe eye of au ang el, calls upon us to glorify from generation to generation, imparting to it its Th ■ beautiful with all tb , t dp] ^ 
Place within their reach useful and instructive . L, 4 ^_ 1 , „ 8 J ine loom 18 oeauuIul w,ttl aU tb at can delight 
lifted heaven-ward. And thej who dwell so tbe causes which produce the effects they see. 
near the home of Light, can ,,: never forget that . ,, , 4 , . , . , , , . 
. , 4 ... f A mother may do this herself without being 
tis far easier to toil upward, if we bear one , , Y,, , , . . . ° 
, m, , ,. a philosopher, bhe may awaken their curiosity 
another s burden. They will help us, the more . , . ; , ^ , f 
. , , A ,, ■ . ,. r , upon the various objects around them,anddi- 
sinful, to follow the right, love the pure, and, as r . ,. . ... . , 
. 4 t 1 44 , , . rect them where this curiosity may be gratified, 
most eloquent lips have uttered, “make our- , . , . , . , . , . . 
. „ t, -r, place within their reach useful and instructive 
selves all beautiful within. Ellen Estes. f . . . , ,, 
_ ville lg5g books, and show by example as well as by pre¬ 
cept, that she appreciates them, and the pleas- 
to venerate the will which caused these mighty 
ber, pressing a slender ring to her lips, and 
murmuring soflly—“ More than heart can guess 
or weak words tell, do I bless and love thee al¬ 
ways." 
Spring is flushing into royal June—June 
treading queenly upon glowing flowers, scat¬ 
tering red roses from her jeweled hand, kind- 
“the hand that built the firmament.” 
Nature is a most efficient teacher to those who 
seek her for instruction and improvement.— 
own immortality.— Selected. 
THE LITTLE ONE’S PRAYER. 
A little child knelt at twilight hour near the seldom have occasion to seek evening amuse- 
broken lattice of a small, poverty-stricken cot- ment away from the charmed circle of home.— 
tage. Casting a glance at the sleeping form of It has been truthfully said, “a good book is the 
her inebriate father opposite her, she clasped best of company;” and the earlier we introduce 
her wan bands and murmured, gazing out into our children into the society of good books, the 
uresof home will be purer and sweeter to every jj er amp ] e page is ever before us, and it is well 
member of the family, and the children will f _ 0 t urn aside occasionally from the world's fri- 
the silvery star-light: 
greater will be the benefit derived from them, 
“ O, God, make father leave his evil ways— aQ J the stronger will be their attachment to the 
make him my own dear father once again 1 social circle around the evening fire, and there 
Make mother’s sad looks go away, and make be less danger of their seeking diversion 
her old smile comeback ; but tby will be done.” in the society of the idle and vicious. But if 
Just then the little one’s mother entered the we ne g lect to make home happy ’ and to furnish 
t-Wno■ W wU Lori w. entertainment for the intelligent, be assured. 
room—and taking her husband, who had just 
awakened, by the arm, she said : 
“Harken to Minnie—she’s praying." 
“ O, God, make father love me as once he did, 
and make him forsake his bad ways 1 ” murmur¬ 
ed the little one, her clear tones breaking the _ 
hushed silence. How beautifull ( 
“O, Paul husband ! ’ cried the mother; “oh, officeg of the cloud . 
by our past joys and sorrows, by our marriage 
vows and wedded love, blight not the life of our 
little one 1 0 , reform, and let us all be happy 
once again 1 ” 
The conscience - stricken man bowed bis 
bead and wept. Then clasping his hands, he 
said: 
“With God’s help you will never be made to 
sorrow on my account again.” 
And he kept his vow. 
A vine-clad cottage now rises where the old 
thatched one once stood; and the little child, 
that tbe restless desire of tbe human mind for 
“some new thing,” will frequently attract 
“ those boys,” and girls too, away from home in 
search of amusement .—The Mother's Ride, by 
T. S. Arthur. 
volities and listen to her voice, for 
“Nature has speech, a language of her own, 
A voice her lovers heed, aud they alone. 
Her faithful worshipers a meaning fiud 
In sounds which ethers treat as passing wind ; 
No need to them the opening lips should part— 
She speaks not to the ear, but to the heart. 
As some bright being on whose palsied tongue 
A death like stillness has unbroken hung, 
Betrays in look the passions as they flow, 
As lucid streams reveal the depth below, 
So Nature makes her eloquent appeal 
To minds that ponder, and to hearts that feel.” 
■ Castile Centre, July, 1856. R. A. R. 
THREE RULES FOR BORROWERS. 
the eye and refine the taste—books, pictures, 
music and flowers—and, fairest of al), a lady. 
JAPANESE WOMEN. , . ... ... ... .. ’ . y ’ 
daintily robed in white muslin, reading in a 
Just arrived from the tropics, the ruddy, too ^ one sweet music, these words of ini- 
ddv cheeks, red 1ms. and eves brieht with passk)ned tenderness : 
ruddy cheeks, red lips, and eyes bright with 
health, struck me most; the face and features 
are too Mongolean ; their forms are full and 
tall, the skin fair, small, uncompressed, stock¬ 
ingless feet, and luxuriant hair, and white and 
even teeth, complete the number of the charms 
of the young and unmarried ; the married 
blacken their teeth, and destroy other charms 
most ruthlessly, which I at first imagined pro- 
“ Can I bless thee, ray beloved, can I bless thee ? 
IVhat blessing word can l 
From my own tears keep dry t 
What flowers grow in my Held wherewith to dress thee, 
My goods revert to ill— 
My binding up would break thee, 
My crownings curse and kill, 
Alas ! I can but love thee, 
May God bless thee, my beloved, may God bless thee.” 
Hark !—a step is coming near ; no careless, 
ceeded from the jealousy of their lords; but shuffling tread, no light slippered foot, but a 
subsequently hearing that a man’s momentary manly step that it does one good to hear, 
dislike permits him to send away his wife, and Tue lady hears it, you may be sure of that, for 
that Japanese dames may vie in renown with ber whole soul is dawning into her eyes and 
the buried matrons of Republican Rome, I was kindling every feature of her face. Ah ! read- 
at a loss to guess a cause, until I incidentally er, do you not know a step whose lightest sound 
search of amusement.— The Mother's Ride, by While at least one-half of the world live by heard that any official seeing a pretty woman sen ds your heart leaping to meet it with a 
T. S. Arthur. borrowing or the credit system, and while thou- married to an inferior, and wishing it, may blessing and a prayer ? A right noble form it 
-- sands of treatises have been made on honesty, take her to his home as an additional wife. I j s that comes up the garden walk, so the lady 
How beautifully does Shelley describe the an< ^ honor, and kindness, all that we nowiecol hope that neither of these causes of divorce are thinks—and so it is—a very handsome, loving 
offices of the Cloud : lee ^ on thl f <; heme ’ vlta J, to a utdltanaD ’ and common ; indeed, my walks in the country led f ace that smiles back her welcome, a strong 
I bring fresh showers for thirsty flowers, which includes the m all, may be computed m e eventually to think that they are not usual, arm tluit is thrown proudly about her'as they 
From the seas and the streams ; unc ei ^ iree iea s • as I saw ros y blooming children rushing out of walk to the bouse together,and there is a world 
I bear light Shade for the leaves When laid 1. The Iron Ride. —Never borrow a paper, almost every cottage door— Capt. Whittingham. of affection in the voice tbat asks 
In their noonday dreams. book, umbrella, horse, or anything else what- --«*—•>- “Have von been verv lonelv mv little Ar- 
From my wings are shaken the dews that wake ., .. , , ... ° ,, tl.ive J Oil Deen very lonely, my illtlG AL- 
The sweet birds everyone, ever ’ lf you caa pos8lbl 7 do wl <mout it, nor then A Sufficient Explanation— A brother of ice ? ” 
When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast, either unless with consent, of the owner. the distinguished Edmund Burke was found in Come away now from the vine-shadows, 
As she dances about the sun. 2. The Silver Ride. .Do not use the aiticle a reverie, after listening to one of his most elo- dream what dreams you will, and God give 
1 W A ie l dt ^ 4 flai E 0f the lasl ? iDg hail ; borrowed as carefully as if it was your own, but que nt speeches in Parliament, and being asked your night a golden dawning. 
And"thin again, I dilsoIIeTunmin"’ mBch more so ’ for ifc is not your owri ; nor re * tbe reason, replied,« I had been wondering how --- 
And laugh as I pass it in thunder. ^ beyond the time agreed upon, without Ned had contrived to monopolize all the talents True Philosophy. —It is in vain to regret a 
A vine-clad cottage now rises where the old -- the owners verbal or written consent. of the family ; but then I remember when we misfortune when it is past retrieving ; but few 
thatched one once stood; and the little child, Home is emphatically the paradise. The 3. The Golden Rule. As soon as ever you were at play he was always at work.” have philosophy or strength enough to practice 
Minnie, is its constant sunshine and joy. Her rich, with their many resources, too often live have done using the thing borrowed, return it -«.>- it. A famous physician ventured five thousand 
childish prayer was answered ; and her present away from the hearth-stone in heart, if not in with thanks, until you can return the favor. A Greek maiden being asked wbat portion guineas upon the South Sea project. When he 
happiness is its response.— Christ. Ambassador. person ; but to tbe virtuous poor, domestic ties -- sbe would bring ber husband, replied, “ I will was told at Garraway’s tbat it was all lost:— 
-- are the only legitimate and positive source of He submits himself to be seen through a bring you what gold cannot purchase—a heart “ Why,” said he, “ ’tis but going up five tlioug- 
A good daughter is the morning sunlight and happiness short of that holier heaven which is microscope, who suffers himself to be caught in unspotted and virtue without stain ; which is all and pairs of stairs more.” The answer deserv- 
evening star of her parents’ house. the soul’s home. a passion. that descended to me from my parents." ed a statue. 
book, umbrella, horse, or anything else what¬ 
ever, if you can possibly do without it, nor then 
either unless with consent of the owner. 
u 
I bring fresh showers for thirsty flowers, 
From the seas and the streams ; 
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid 
In their noonday dreams. 
From my wings are shaken the dews that wake 
The sweet birds every one, 
When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast, 
As she dances about the sun. 
I wield the flail of the lashing hail, 
And whiten the green plains under, 
And then again, I dissolve it in rain, 
And laugh as I pass it in thunder. 
True Philosophy. —It is in vain to regret a 
were at play he was always at work.” have philosophy or strength enough to practice 
-■*-—•-- it. A famous physician ventured five thousand 
A Greek maiden being asked wbat portion guineas upon the South Sea project. When he 
she would bring her husband, replied, “ I will was told at Garraway’s tbat it was all lost:— 
