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MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
DEC. 20. 
mw’ lart-fulifl. 
CONDUCTED BY AZIDE. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
EVELINE. 
The cottage, the rale, and the soft murm’ring stream 
Where Eveline dwelt was a beautiful dream, 
Herself a sweet poem, so sylph-like and free, 
She seem’d like a queen of the fairies to me. 
One evening as Eveline trip’d over the dew, 
I gave her a boquet of violets blue— 
The light of her eyes as she smiled upon me, 
Was like sun-heams that dance on a tremulous sea, 
’Twas witching then by the light of the moon, 
To list, as she sung in a wild warbling tune, 
Of angels around us encamped in the bowers 
To guard and illumine, these spirits of ours. 
Transported with visions of glory and light. 
She looked like an angel all ready for flight, 
Then sighing she tenderly smiled upon me, 
And suddenly vanished quite over the lea. 
The church bell rung slowly and softly next day, 
For Eve’ had gone with the angels away, 
To sing in the bowers of a bliss peopled star, 
That evening she saw in the “ Aidenn afar.” 
That meadow, the cottage, the streamlet aud skies, 
Still glow with the light of her love beaming eyes ; 
A halo of beauty I every night see. 
Like Eveline vanishing over the lea. 
Cassopolis, Mich., Nov., 1856. H. B. D. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
THE INNER TEMPLE. 
The human soul is an unfathomable deep, 
and like old ocean’s vault is full of beauty, 
power and dark mystery. Yet a few mortals 
have sent piercing glances down into its lowest 
recesses, and sought to unfold its wonders. As 
well might they think “ by searching to find 
out God.” ’Tis mystery profound ! But as the 
voyager on earth’s trackless paths, feels con¬ 
scious that untold riches, frowning rocks and 
gem-lined grottoes are strewn o’er the unseen 
floor below him; so the manner on life’s sea, if 
faithful to his charts and compass, may be 
morally certain that many sleeping faculties, 
wondrous powers aud glorious beauties lie hid¬ 
den in the soundless depths of the soul. 
The figures of earth are faint and weak to 
illustrate these undying emanations from the 
Infinite. We must gaze with spiritual eyes 
through the vistas of eternity, if we would 
trace their unfolding and developing into mir¬ 
rors for Divinity. Our mortal vision is some¬ 
times dazzled with brilliant corruscations from 
some soul o’ercharged with freight of beauty 
and heavenly fervor, and often too, by chance 
we obtain enchanting views of the rich decora¬ 
tions and fair proportions of this Inner Temple. 
But while we are entranced and awed with 
these glimpses of loveliness aud power, let us 
remember, though the Architect of this fair 
Temple is Divine, it is for naan to dedicate and 
set up altars within, and that its comeliness 
and strength depend upon what shrines are 
there, and who is the acknowledged Deity. 
If vice, error and superstition preside, the 
faultless structure is desecrated aud perverted 
from its high and holy purpose. However 
richly adorned it may be, if dedicated to ialse 
gods it becomes a splendid ruin, a monument 
to folly and sin. If devoted to its Creator's 
worship while it contains the shrines of truth, 
virtue and zeal in knowledge, then will its 
beauty and strength be wonderfully unfolded 
this side eternity. Then will it ever disclose 
new riches and new ideals which must partial¬ 
ly assume actual forms. And this earth already 
lovely, will become as it were a vast palace 
ornamented within and without with all that 
can ravish the senses. Ti is may be accom¬ 
plished in the outer world by the legitimate 
use and direction of human powers. And far 
more wonderful may be the effect upon the 
inner life. Long before the execution of the 
grand and glorious conceptions which would 
convert this earth into an artificial paradise, 
the mind which originates them is filled with 
spiritual delight and intellectual feasts. 
Types of visible beauty exist within the soul 
intensely refined, and as floating visions and 
lofty imaginings are feebly embodied, the glo¬ 
rious ideal ever soars above the actual as if 
scorning contact. Thus in this Spirit Temple 
there are forever collecting, choice gems, more 
and more lovely, whose luster must gleam its 
palace walls upon the world. And in its laby¬ 
rinths are unpolished jewels too, in the wearing 
of which lurks the charm of living. Long 
years may be required to search for them suc¬ 
cessfully, but the faithful seeker invariably 
finds treasures he knew not of. To master 
spirits belong the task of producing keys to 
unlock the hidden coffers of intellect, from 
which wealth of thought may be gathered as 
riches from the deep. 
Gifted of earth 1 then place thy beacon light 
on high. Thou, whose inner world is replete 
with diamonds, let their luster shine abroad. 
It may perchance flash down into the gloomy 
depths of some sad hearts, and illumine their 
treasure house. It may chase grim superstition 
from its lurking place by diffusing the sunlight 
of truth. But in thy loftiness, peer of intel¬ 
lect, beware that hideous forms of vice enter 
not thy spirit portal. From the heights of fame 
exhibit not monster errors in pleasing garb. 
Pervert not the splendor of thy genius into a 
dazzling shield for wickedness. Mortal I who 
treadest the busy, dusty paths of life, and 
nourishest mind with meager diet, go forth and 
gather pearls from learning’s casket; search 
and use thy buried talents ; then may’st thou 
prepare a feast in thine own soul, that when 
care relents, thou may’st turn and banquet thei e. 
Victim of restlessness 1 aud votary of earth’s 
vanities! give o’er thy search for empty bub¬ 
bles, which are inadequate to the deep desires 
of thy heart, and direct thy untiring energies 
within. Call to thy aid the gathered lore of 
ages, and exalt the temple of intellect. There¬ 
in set up thy highest altar to the Omnipotent, 
and see how precious an offering thou canst 
place thereon. 
Traveler in earth’s changing scenes 1 if thou 
hast enriched this glorious temple and dedica¬ 
ted it to God and virtue, thou canst serenely 
smile at fate. Thou need’st not fortune’s favors. 
When the world looks coldly on thee, or when 
thou tamest in lonely by-ways, then canst thou 
deeply meditate ; then revel among sweet fan¬ 
cies and proudly rise above earthly ills. Aye 
more, thy spirit dome can pierce heaven’s own 
ether, rise far above terrestial nothingness, and 
shine with the reflected brightness of its future 
glory. Grace Kimball. 
Lima Seminary, N. Y., 1856. 
A SISTER’S VALUE. 
Have you a sister ? Then love and cherish 
her with all that pure and holy friendship 
which renders a brother so noble and worthy. 
Learn to appreciate her sweet influence as por¬ 
trayed in the following words : 
He who has never known a sister’s kind min¬ 
istration, nor felt his heart warming beneath 
her endearing smile and love beaming eye, has 
been unfortunate indeed. It is not much to be 
wondered at, if the fountains of pure feeling 
flow in his bosom but sluggishly, or if the gen¬ 
tle emotions of his nature be lost in the sterner 
attributes of mankind. 
“That man has grown up among affectionate 
sisters,” I once heard a lady of much observa¬ 
tion and experience, remark. 
“ And why do you think so ?” said I. 
“ Because of the rich development of all the 
tender feelings of the heart.” 
A sister's influence is felt even in manhood’s 
riper years, and the heart of him who has grown 
cold in chilly contact with the world, will warm 
and thrill with pure enjoyment, as some acci¬ 
dent awakens within him the soft tones, the 
glad melodies of a sister’s voice — and he will 
turn from purposes which a warped and false 
philosophy had reasoned into expediency, and 
even weep dor the gentle influences which 
moved him in his earlier years. 
THE MAIDEN’S FIRST LOVE. 
Human nature has no essence more pure—the 
world knows nothing more chaste—Heaven has 
endowed the mortal heart with no feeling more 
holy, than the nascent effect of a young vir¬ 
gin’s soul. The warmest language of the sunny 
south is too cold to shadow forth even a faint 
outline of that enthusiastic sentiment. And 
God has made the richest language poor in that 
same respect, because the depths of hearts 
that thrill with love’s emotion are too sacred for 
contemplation. The musical voice of love stirs 
the source of the human breast, and steals into 
the most profound recesses of the soul, touching 
chords which never vibrated before,and calling 
into gentle companionship delicious hopes until 
then unknown. 
Yes, the light of a young maiden’s love breaks 
dimly but beautifully upon her, as the silver 
luster of a star glimmers through a thickly 
woven bower, and the first blush that mantles 
her cheeks, as she finds the primal influence, is 
pure and faint, as that which a rose leaf might 
cast upon marble. But how rapidly does that 
grow stronger, that flash deeper—until the 
powerful effulgence of the one irradiates every 
corner of the heart, aud the crimson glow of 
the other suffuses every feature of her coun¬ 
tenance. 
THE SHADOWS OF CHILDHOOD. 
God bless the little children ! We like their 
bright eyes, their happy faces, their winning 
ways, their rosy dreams! Nothing seems to 
weigh down their buoyant spirits long. Mis¬ 
fortune may fall to their lot, but the shadows it 
casts upon their life-path are fleeting as the 
clouds that come and go in an April sky.— 
Their future may, perchance, appear dark to 
others, but to their fearless gaze it looms up 
brilliant and beautiful as the walls of a fairy 
palace. There is no tear which a mother’s gen¬ 
tle hand cannot heal—no anguish which the 
sweet murmuring of her soft, low voice cannot 
soothe. The warm, generous impulses of their 
nature have not been fettered and cramped by 
the cold formalities of the world; they have 
not yet learned to veil a hollow heart with false 
smiles, or hide the basest purposes beneath 
honeyed words. 
THE BEAUTIFUL THINGS OF EARTH. 
What are the beautiful things of earth ? 
The looks of flowers ? a child’s sweet mirth r 
The glory of woodlands waving wide ? 
Or rich man’s glance of hope and pride ? 
The faith that speaks from girl’s clear eyes 
For the untried life that before her lies ? 
Lovelier looks than these are on earth : 
The fruits that last when flowers are gone ; 
The patient smiles of sickness wan ; 
e.martyr light in a strong man's eye, 
When he clasps the right in agony ; 
The glance more sweet than faith q’er wore, 
Of the love that lives when faith is o'er: 
These are the beautiful things of earth. 
--:- 
A bright and beautiful bird is hope. It will 
come to us amid the darkness, and sings the 
sweetest song when our spirits are saddest; and 
when the lone soul is weary, and longs to pass 
away, it warbles its sunniest notes, and tightens 
again the slender fibres of our heart that grief 
has been tearing away. 
The tears we shed for those we love, are the 
streams which water the garden of the heart, 
and without them it would be dry and barren, 
and the gentle flowers of affection would perish.' 
Dfotfllauy, 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
A BABY-WELCOME—FOR MARY. 
Welcome 1 welcome ! little stranger, 
Joyously we welcome thee, 
Now again, our walls shall echo 
To the voice of infant glee. 
Baby forms have blessed our dwelling 
With their light and joy before, 
Baby feet have learned to patter 
Making music on the floor. 
In our hearts and homes they nestled ; 
Slept there in thy cradle-bed : 
Thou’rt thrice welcome, precious baby, 
Since those little oneB are dead. 
Thou, perchance, hast miDgled with them 
In their shining, cherub bands, 
And with love, maybe thou’rt laden 
From our babes in Spirit-land. 
God preserve thee, little darling ; 
Make thee grow in strength and grace, 
Welcome! there’s a world of sunshine, 
Comes with thy sweet baby-face. 
Rochester, Nov., 1856. Nbttib. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
A TEAR. 
The tear, coursing down the cheek of either 
youth or age, is, of itself, but a minute of object, 
barely worthy of notice, and yet the circum¬ 
stances under which it is called into existence 
may be fearful. Who shall say what of agony 
is expressed by that silent messenger ? — what 
of joy 1—of pity ?—of hope and of fear ? 
The tear of agony. How numerous are the 
causes which bring these little tale-bearers to 
the eyes ? Amid the gayety and revelry of a 
city there are phases of human existence upon 
which want and misery are indelibly stamped. 
The tear-drop—crystallized by the keen blast 
—may be taken from the face of youthful inno¬ 
cence, just learning to struggle with and endure 
earth’s privations, or from the countenance of 
age, whose life-history is a stern conflict with 
poverty and templation. Heart sorrows and 
afflictions, bedew the lids and the ever as¬ 
cending prayer of weary humanity is akin to 
that of the Crucified One—“ My God ! My God ! 
why hast thou forsaken me ?” There is an¬ 
other and more fearful cause for the agonizing 
tear. Brought into being by the agency of 
crime — hopes ctushed, aspirations buried, the 
physical system destroyed, the mental organism 
depraved, the whole man but the slave lust and 
passion. Remorse wrings the soul and the tear 
that burns, its fury uncontrollable, isgi ven birth. 
The tear of joy. How the fountains of the 
soul oftentimes well up and overflow. A word 
fraught with good intent, an act bearing the 
impress of a pure, unselfish thought—a missive 
containiug tender recollections —each like the 
rod of Moses will bring copious and refreshing 
streams, even from the flinty rock. 
“ A little word in kindness spoken, 
An action, or a tear, 
Has often healed a heart that’s broken, 
And made a friend sincere.” 
The tear of pity. How holy is it, as it wan¬ 
ders down the face of man or woman. 
“ Devotion’s self shall steal a thought from heaven, 
One human tear shall drop, and bs forgiven.” 
How the heart is moved under its influences^ 
stirred to noble deeds and lofty aspirations.— 
It dispels gloom and bids the sunlight enter 
and radiate the dark and cheerless spots in 
human existence*. It seeks out objects of com¬ 
miseration, and lavishes thereon kindly offices 
and words of heart-felt sympathy. It binds 
the wounds of the afflicted, assists the weary 
and elevates the depressed. It kindles the fire 
on the hearth of poverty, and places bread in 
the famishing fingers of want. The tear of pity 
is an attribute, not only of Mortality but of 
Divinity, for “Jesus wept.” 
BEAUTIFUL EXTRACT. 
The glory of the summer has gone by — the 
beautiful greenness has become withered and 
dead. Were this all—were there no associa¬ 
tions of moral desolation — of faded hopes—of 
hearts withering iu the bosoms of the living, 
connected with the decaying scenery around 
us, we could not indulge a moment’s melan¬ 
choly. The season of flowers will come again, 
the streams will flow gracefully and lightly as 
before, the trees will again toss their cumbrous 
load of green ness to the sunlight, and by mossy 
stone and winding rivulet, the young blossoms 
will start up at the bidding of their fairy guar¬ 
dians. But the human heart has no change like 
nature. It has no second springtime. Once 
blighted in its hour of freshness, it forever bears 
the mark of the spoiler. The dews of affection 
may fall, the gentle rain of sympathy be lav¬ 
ished upon it, the sear root of blighted feelings 
will never again waken into life, nor the 
crushed flowers of hope blossom with their 
wonted beauty. 
Life. —The mere lapse of years is not life.— 
To eat, drink, and sleep; to be exposed to dark¬ 
ness and light; to pace around in the mill of 
habits and turn the mill of wealth; to make 
reason our book-keeper and thought into an 
implement of trade—this is not life. In all this 
but a poor fraction of the unconsciousness of hu¬ 
manity is awakened; and the sanctities still 
slumber which make it worth while to be.— 
Knowledge, truth, love, beauty, goodness, faith 
alone can give vitality to the mechanism of ex¬ 
istence; the laugh of mirth which vibrates 
through the heart; the tear which f reshens the dry 
wastes within; the music, that brings childhood 
bach; the prayer that calls the future near; the 
death which startles us with mystery; the hard¬ 
ship which forces us to struggle; the anxiety 
that ends in trust—are the true nourishment 
ends in being.— Chalmers. 
SIMPLICITY OF ENGLISH DRESS. 
In the families of many of the nobility and 
gentry of England, possessing an annual income 
which of itself would be an ample fortune there 
is greater economy of dress aud more simplicity 
in the furnishing of the dwelling, than there is 
in many of the bouses of our citizens, who are 
barely able to supply the daily wants of their 
families by the closest attention to their busi¬ 
ness. A friend of ours, who sojourned not loDg 
since several months in the vicinity of some of 
the wealthy landed aristocracy of England, 
whose ample rent rolls would have warranted a 
high style of fashion, was surprised at the sim¬ 
plicity of manners practised. Servants were 
much more numerous than with us, but the 
ladies made more account of one silk dress than 
would be thought here of a dozen. They were 
generally clothed in good substantial stuffs, and 
a display of fine clothing and jewelry was re¬ 
served for great occasions. The furniture of 
the mansions, instead of being turned out of 
doors every few years for new and more fash¬ 
ionable styles, was the same which the ances¬ 
tors of the families for several generations had 
possessed, substantial aud in excellent preser¬ 
vation, but plain and without any pretension to 
elegance. Even the carpets on many suits of 
parlors had been on the floors for fifty years, 
and were expected to do service for another half 
century. With us how different is the state of 
things. We are wasting an amount of wealth 
in this country on show and fashion, which, 
rightly applied, would renovate the condition 
of the whole population of the world, and chris¬ 
tianize, civilize and educate all mankind.— Se¬ 
lected. 
HOW TO WRITE FOR THE NEWSPAPERS. 
As a general rule, short pieces are best liked. 
A gentleman in a bank once told us, when we 
asked him to subscribe for a certain Quarterly 
Review :—“ Read a review 1 why, I never read 
anything longer than a telegraph despatch 1 
But I will take it, and send it to my brother, 
who is a minister in the country.” The public 
like a short article, when it is a condensation. 
This introduces .-a second idea. An article to 
be printed should absolutely have something 
in it. If professed argument, it should be con¬ 
clusive ; if pathetic, it should moisten the eyes; 
if an anecdote, it should have a sharp point; if 
philosophy, it should go to the primitive rock ; 
if practical, it should go like an arrow to its 
work ; if spiritual, it should awe the soul that 
reads it. A good newspaper style is not as easy 
as it seems. Its Scylla lies on the side of at¬ 
tempting a popular manner, and succeeding in 
oeing more familiar than a man ought to be at 
his own table, or degenerating into slang, or be¬ 
coming very childish. Its Chary bdis yawns for 
those who, shunning Scylla, are determined to 
have real thought, pith, and value in their wri¬ 
ting, and so become too learned, or profound, or 
imaginative, or philosophical, for any but schol¬ 
ars or cultivated people.— Am. Presbyterian. 
A HEARTY LAUGH 
After all, what a capital, kindly, honest, jol¬ 
ly, glorious thing a good laugh is I What a 
tonic 1 What a digester 1 What a febrifuge 1 
What an exorciser of evil spirits 1 Better than 
a walk before breakfast or a nap after dinner. 
How it shuts the mouth of malice, and opens 
the brow of kindness 1 Whether it discovers 
the gums of infancy or age, the grinders of folly 
or the pearls of beauty ; whether it racks the 
sides aud deforms the countenance of vulgarity, 
or dimples the visage or moistens the eye of 
refinement—in all its phases, and on all faces, 
contorting, relaxing, overwhelming, convulsing, 
throwing the human form into the happy shak¬ 
ing and quaking of idiocy, and turning the hu¬ 
man countenance into something appropriate to 
Billy Button’s transformation — under every 
circumstance, aud everywhere, a laugh is a 
glorious thing. Like “ a thing of beauty,” it is 
a “joy forever.” There is no remorse in it. It 
leaves no sting — except in the sides, aud that 
goes off. Even a single unparticipated laugh is 
a great affair to witness. But it is seldom sin¬ 
gle. It is more infectious than scarlet fever.— 
You cannot gravely contemplate a laugh. If 
there is one laughter, and one witness, there 
are forthwith two laughters. And so on. The 
convulsion is propagated like sound. What a 
thing it is when it becomes epidemic.— Dublin 
University Magazine. 
Good Taste. —The beneficial effects of good 
taste are to be found even where you least sus¬ 
pect its presence ; it everywhere evidently ex¬ 
cludes wanton superfluity, or useless expendi¬ 
ture in labor or ornament; it inculcates a wise 
and dignified economy; it prompts art to 
achieve its end, by the simplest means; it 
gives to the productions of mechanical skill all 
the durability and elegance of which they may 
be susceptible, by lending to them those forms, 
proportions, combinations of colors, and agree¬ 
able associations, which, because they are most 
simply and obviously fitted to their peculiar 
purposes, or are congruous to natural principles 
of man’s physical or moral constitution, have 
pleased for ages, and will ever continue to 
please.— Verplanch. 
There are so many tender and holy emotions 
flying about in an inward world, which, like 
angels can never assume the body of an out¬ 
ward act; so many rich and lovely flowers 
spring up, which bear to seed, that it is a hap¬ 
piness poetry was invented, and that it receives 
into its limbs all those incorporal spirits, and 
the perfume of all these flowers. 
The most valuable part of every man’s educa¬ 
tion, is that which he receives from himself. 
INHERITANCE OF TALENT 
A cotemporary says that great men usually 
inherit their talents from their mother. This 
is the popular belief, but none the less errone¬ 
ous. The mistake has arisen from attending 
only to those cases in which the mother had a 
superior mind, to the equally numerous exam¬ 
ples where the father possessed remarkable 
abilities. Everybody quotes the fact that Na¬ 
poleon derived his genius from his mother.— 
Nobody mentions that Burns owed his vast 
abilities to his father. A traveler would com¬ 
mit a similar blunder who should describe all 
Americans were light-haired, or say that every 
Philadelphian was a Quaker. The rule, for rule 
there is, lies deeper. 
Great abilities, in a word, arise from such a 
fortunate union of the mental characteristics of 
the parents as renders the progeny a genius, 
though neither father nor mother, perhaps, were 
such. The catalogue of eminent men, if care¬ 
fully made up and honestly scrutinized with a 
view to elucidating the truth, would establish 
this, we have no doubt, beyond controversy.— 
F >r it is already known that the child takes its 
mental nature in about equal portions from its 
parents, and this fact at once leads to our con¬ 
clusion, as well as explain why brilliant parents 
often have dunces among their offspring. 
Let us illustrate this. A man has the purely 
intellectual characteristic in great force, but is 
wanting in will: he is consequently, a dreamy 
philosopher, or a visionary speculator. He 
marries a woman, who, with but ordinary intel¬ 
lect, has immense energy. One child of this 
pair may combine the weakness of both pa¬ 
rents ; and will be, in that event, an irreclaima¬ 
ble fool. But another may inherit the mother's 
will, with the father’s intellect; and this child, 
unless ruined by a bad education, is certain to 
become distinguished. 
Or take another example. A woman of no 
remarkable abilities, but with a fine moral na¬ 
ture, is married to a man without principle, but 
possessing shining abilities. One child of this 
pair may inherit the good qualities of both pa¬ 
rents, and become a Bunyan, a Nestor, or even 
a Washington. But another may inherit the 
deficiencies of both, and grow up, unless care¬ 
fully guarded, to become but a brilliant villain. 
Or take a third instance. One parent may 
have much imagination, but little else ; and the 
other nothing remarkable, but great perceptive 
faculties. The union of these two characteris¬ 
tics in a child will produce a poet. The trans¬ 
mission of either in excess, unless balanced by 
strong reasoning powers, may make only a hu¬ 
man monkey or romantic fool. 
This law explains also why so few eminent 
men belong to one family. There have rarely 
been two distinguished poets, painters, gene¬ 
rals, or even statesmen, who were father or son, 
or even brothers. The elder and younger Pitt, 
though both Prime Ministers, and both famous 
speakers, were strikingly dissimilar in their 
mental constitution, so this example which 
seems at first to oppose our theory, really sus¬ 
tains it. In fact, when we consider that the 
mind has so many and so distinguished ingre¬ 
dients, ideality, causality, benevolence, reve¬ 
rence, destructiveness, constructiveness, and that 
they are combined in millions of varieties in as 
many million persons, the wonder is not that 
two individuals, even of the same family, re¬ 
semble each other so much. Given the score 
and odd of separate bumps into which phre¬ 
nology divides the brain, and take the child of 
any two persons whatever — and who shall say 
in what exact proportions out of the ten thou¬ 
sand possible ones, these qualities ought to 
unite ? \ 
There is too much falsity taught for truth on 
this and similar subjects, not only in the nev s- 
papers but in elaborate books. The reason is 
that few persons think soundly, or dare to de¬ 
ny the pre-conceived or popular ideas. We 
would, however, have every man reflect for 
himself, “ prove all things; hold fast to the 
good.”— Baltimore Sun. 
Deeds vs. Words. —The spoken word, the 
written poem, is said to be an epitome of the 
man ; how much more the done work. What¬ 
soever of morality and of intelligence; whato 
patience, perseverance, faithfulness,of method, 
insight, ingenuity, energy ; in a word, whatso¬ 
ever of strength the man had in him will lie 
written in the work he does. Great honor to 
him whose epic is a melodious hexameter Iliad. 
But still greater honor, if his epic be a mighty 
empire slowly built together, a mighty series of 
heroic deeds—a mighty conquest over chaos.— 
There is no mistaking this latter epic. Deeds 
are greater than words. Deeds have such a life, 
mute but undeniable, aud grow as living trees 
and fruit trees do ; they people the vacuity of 
time, aud make it green and worthy.— -Carlyle. 
Hints to Parents. — The Rev. Hosea Ballou 
was accustomed to say to parents:—“If you 
practice severity, speak harshly, frequently 
punish in anger, you will find your children 
will imbibe your spirit and manners. But if 
you are wise, and treat your little ones with 
tenderness, you will fix the image of love in 
their minds, and they will love you and each 
other, and iu their conversation will imitate 
that which they have heard from the tenderest 
friend which children have on earth.” 
It is an attribute of true philosophy, never to 
force the progress of Truth and Reason, but to 
wait till the dawn of Light; meanwhile, the 
philosopher may wander into hidden paths, 
but he will never depart far from the main 
track. 
If youth be trifled away without improve¬ 
ment, manhood will be contemptible, and old 
age miserable. 
