Sm 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
REMEMBRANCE. 
I remember ! I remember! 
How the waking echoes roll, 
As the scenes that once we cherished, 
Bright with joys that now have perished, 
Fill the chambers of the soul. 
How the friends that time has shaded 
Mingle with our sports again, 
As in life’s wide pathway straying, 
Mem’ry’s magic, round us playing, 
Brings the pleasures cherished then. 
I remember well the homestead 
Where inv early years flew by, 
Though its halls are now forsaken, 
Yet it still hath power to waken 
Memories that never die. 
This leads us to speak of a third necessary ele¬ 
ment of the true wife and mother’s character, viz.: 
a deep and abiding moral and religious principle. 
Without this she may be intellectually great, but 
in proportion as she is so, will her influence upon 
the forming character of childhood be subversive 
of those principles of right which may, by some 
extraneous means, have become implanted there; 
and in that proportion is her power to promote 
the establishment of error increased. 
A sad thing for our country would it be, should 
its mothers be intellectual giants, and at the same 
time moral dwarfs ! We might expect to see its 
noblest principles speedily overthrown—liberty, 
wounded and bleeding, prostrate in the dust, and 
the eagle of our national banner soon seeking, 
among his own native crags, and in the depths of 
the blue sky, that air of freedom which had ceased 
to blow gently over the beautiful valleys of our 
land. 
ILL-TEMPERED WOMEN. 
, „ Varied as the flowers of the earth is the charac- 
W here my early years flew by, , „ , . , , , , 
Though its halls are now forsaken, ter of women 5 to a lar S e S arden Jna >' the whole 
Yet it still hath power to waken scx be compared; rank weeds are found there, the 
Memories that never die. sharp, stinging nettle and the poisonous night¬ 
shade ; but likewise are seen blooms of rich beauty 
I remember—oh, how fondly!— , . „ - , ,, ,, , , 
„ . ... . .... —plants of graceful growth — the scented rose 
One whose gentler heart with mine * , & 
Beat in one responsive measure, and the cllmbln S jasmine - the painted tulip and 
As the scenes of joy and pleasure modest lily all are met in the great parterre of 
Made our youthful pathway shine. world blooming side by side, mingling either 
T , , „ . fragrance or poison with the air around. And the 
Days of sorrow’s deepest shade- influence of a woman is as diversified as her char- 
Wlien beneath the drooping willow, acter > whether m a domestic or public point of 
With the cold earth for a pillow, view. Two women may be placed in precisely the 
Forms of love and death were laid. same circumstances socially, the one will diffuse 
Thus, remembrance, thou art ever happiness, the other destroy it; the one will give 
Bringing joy or giving pain, a P erfect charm to life, the other make it almost a 
As the heart’s long buried treasures— curse; and simply by a diversity of temperament 
All its sorrows and its pleasures— producing different results. 
Gather round us oft again. An ill-tempered, quarrelsome woman is a nui- 
Somersct, N. Y., 1859. W. C. W. sance on earth. An ill-tempered man is bad enough, 
-- but the perpetual “niggle” of a sour-tempered 
PLAIN TALKS TO AMERICAN WOMEN.—No. II. woman is insufferable; there is a meanness about 
_ her irritability which men generally do not possess. 
by mrs. m. p. a. crozier. A man may swear and behave like a brute—such 
conduct is as common as daisies in summer, but 
In the present article we purpose to refer to unless he be something below the level of a bully 
me of the most essential requisites for the wife _ and that is low enough-he won’t keep up an 
some of the most essential requisites for the wife 
and mother duties, most essential to render woman incessant small-shot charge of hint and innuendo, 
an efficient “ help-meet” or “ help-proper” in the and pettish rejoinder-for that is the style of these 
ami j constitution. nettles of the human race, these vegetable blister- 
First we shall speak of physical health. With- ing plasters of humanity—cross-grained women, 
out this, it is impossible for a woman to fill proper- Such women, without having anything of positive 
ly the peculiar sphere of her nature. And yet how vice in their composition, do an immensity of harm; 
few are possessed of it! But can a being infinite there is sorrow and trial enough in the world 
in love, have subjected the crowning work of his without ill-temper adding to the burden; a cheerful 
creation necessarily to a life of pain and disease ? heart, and a cheering word of comfort it is woman’s 
Everything created by God was created perfect; prerogative to bestow, and if she fails to exert her 
but it was subjected to the government of laws by prerogative, she loses, and deserves to lose, that 
which alone it could retain its perfection. The supremacy over man she is born and destined to 
violation of moral law has introduced moral dis- hold.— Tait’s Magazine. 
ease into the world, and the violation of physical -- 
law is followed by a train of physical disarrange- HOUSEHOLD CARES. 
ments and diseases. If a single planet of th‘‘: - 
celestial system should move ofi in a tangent to its Mrs. Kirkland has very truly said that woman 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
A FARMER’S SONG. 
BY D. D. REYNOLDS. 
We envy not the princely man, 
In city or in town, 
Who wonders whether pumpkin vines 
Run up the hill or down ; 
We care not for his marble halls, 
Nor yet his heaps of gold, 
We would not own his sordid heart 
For all his wealth thrice told. 
We are the favored ones of earth, 
We breathe pure air each morn, 
We sow-Wte reap the golden grain— 
We gather in the corn; 
We toil—we live on what we earn. 
And more than this we do, 
We hear of starving millions round, 
And gladly feed them, too. 
The lawyer lives on princely fees, 
Yet drags a weary life, 
He never knows a peaceful hour— 
His atmosphere is strife. 
The merchant thumbs his yard-stick o’er— 
Grows haggard at his toil— 
He’s not the man God meant him for— 
Why don’t he till the soil ? 
If he’d but dig the generous earth, 
And breathe pure air of heaven, 
And sleep all night and wake at dawn, 
He’d know what God hath given 
Of health and comfort, peace and joy, 
Outweighing glittering ore— 
And silks, and prints, and lace, and tape, 
All numbered o’er and o’er. 
The doctor plods through storm and cold, 
Plods at his patient’s will, 
When dead and gone he plods again 
To get his lengthy bill. 
The printer (bless his noble soul,) 
He grasps the mighty earth, 
And stamps it on the Rural’s page 
To cheer the farmer’s hearth. 
We sing the honor of the Plow, 
And honor of the Press— 
Two noble instruments of toil, 
With each a power to bless. 
The bone—the nerve of this fast age — 
True wealth of human kind— 
One tills the ever-generous earth, 
The other tills the mind. 
Delaware Co., N. Y., 1858. 
nvVU Z bnn S s my g ° Wn and slippers ' SuSAN S ives but does not memory, ever-fuitliful memory, beck- 
THE ^RI|IN OF GENIUS. me the last Rural, and goes to make my toast and on you on> breathing in your ear the same familiar 
T . oorom -/sTV La„ _, tea - I am Soon absorbed and rested in body utiJ tono with aU Us former love and ..enderneSS? 
It is a remaih . Die xact, and one no less lemarka- mmd- j f orge t my cares and troubles. I seem to Does it n r whig th prayer you lisped 
ble than true, that in examining the history of live in the country I have a little farm_no mat- , ,, . P , , P 
„ . r, , . ,, , f , J . live in me country, x nave a nineiarm no mat a t the parent’s knee; tempting you again to lift 
(rC'll'lUS WG IlQu that tllOSG who hnvc foCGIl most fpv liow mnnil—-winoil m n.11 mv own T ^ rlrporn of^ • e 
.. .. ter now small—wmen IS an my own. 1 dream Ol T nnr vo ce with C l d- ke trust, to vnnr Mother’s 
transcribed by his daughter. Robert Burns, the 
Ayrshire Poet, was born in one of the mud-thatched 
cottages of the Scottish peasantry. He has ren¬ 
dered classic his native hills, and braes, and dales, 
and bonnie streams, by his enchanting lays and 
songs. He had, at his death, scarce enough of 
this world’s goods to defray his funeral expenses. 
So it is—the brightest genius and the most ex¬ 
alted intellect seldom has anything more than its 
mighty mind as a portion. 
Attica, N. Y., 1858. Walter R. Bisnoi*. 
-»•-»- 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
“STOP MY RURAL!” 
Stop it, I say. I won’t have another number. 
I can’t endure such torture a single week more. 
I am in earnest,—take my name from your books. 
What on earth is the matter? Well, now, I will 
tell you. I like the paper — that’s a fact. In its 
new dress it smiles like a bride. The headings are 
superb, the bordering is exquisite, the engravings 
beautiful and instructive, and the letter press is all 
that could be desired. There is a choice variety in 
the contents. The Agricultural Department is in¬ 
valuable to the farmer; the Horticultural is .Vick- 
torious over all competitors; the Educational is of 
itself worth the price of the paper; and then there 
is the “Choice Miscellany,” the “Sabbath Mus- 
ings,” the “Young Ruralist” and the “Youth’s 
Corner” which are of so much interest to the boys 
and girls. The news columns will keep one “ post¬ 
ed” without the aid of any other journal, the book 
notices are just and discriminative, and the very 
advertisements are more interesting than the 
“Leaders” in some Agricultural journals which 
have a wide circulation. John likes the wit and 
humor, Susan looks out for the stories, and the 
“old woman” — that’s my wife — turns at once to 
the column devoted to Domestic Economy. Yes, 
it’s a grand paper, and we like it, — we do. Mr. 
Moore, they say, is “some,” though his picture 
would’nt embellish the Rural ; he has an “ able 
corps of assistant editors,”—he has hosts of racy 
correspondents, (besides this writer,) — he has all 
the facilities for making a crack journal, and he 
does it. His motto is “Excelsior,”—he goes in for 
“Progress and Improvement,”—he is resolved'on 
success, and he achieves it. His paper has a high 
literary character; no one ever saw a word or line 
in it not instinct with moral purity ; it is an excel¬ 
lent family paper; in the truest and best sense of 
the term, it is a religious journal. 
But, nevertheless, I don’t want it. The truth is 
I live in a city, on a narrow street, and in a small 
house. I don’t own a foot of land on God’s earth. 
I have not a spot to plant a tree or a flower. There 
is hardly room in-doors for poor Nellie’s gera¬ 
nium, though we love it for the sake of the dear 
one who budded on earth to bloom in heaven. I 
come home from business weary and perplexed.— 
My wife draws my arm-chair close to the grate, 
We cannot tell which exceeds in beauty—the death 
of the young or the old. Morning clouds are delicate 
indeed, painted and pearl-like Saxon beauty’s cheek, 
but gorgeous are the clouds that, stained with dying 
day, are drawn like Caesar’s mantle over its changing 
face. 
Some, like the Morning Star, went out at dawn, 
When birds did sing at Heaven’s gate aloud ; 
Some, like the Sun, kept chiming bravely on, 
Till in the west, beneath a golden cloud, 
The dead Day lay in state, and lamps did burn 
In all of Heaven, to welcome their return ; 
And Earth was dewy with the tears she shed, 
And bared her bosom for the coming dead. 
But there, upon the western threshold of the World, 
They yet shall linger, and our eyes behold, 
Till this great azure tent of time is furled, 
And Ages stand before God’s Gates of Gold. 
We cannot weep for these. The Sexton makes 
Their graves in vain. The green Earth idly breaks 
In voiceless billows, for her Ethiop breast 
Shall not enfold them. Let her love the flower, 
And woo the leaves December has caressed ; 
Lot her put shrouds upon the Summer hours, 
And fold dead birds within the snowy drift. 
But TnESE are not for her. Oh ! may she lift 
The pall, the turf—the mighty are not there, 
Though bell, and rite, and dirge were rung, and said, 
And sung—no sigh nor song can make them dead, 
Whom God did give Ilis wardrobe for their wear! 
As vainly dream to bear the star away 
Shining the night out, in a drop of dew 
That June has shed upon the rose’s crest— 
A syllable of Heaven—to some far day, 
And think to set that crystal shrine anew, 
In starry splendor upon beauty’s breast. 
And those who went at morning, like the bird 
That meets the dawn a moment out of Heaven— 
For whom a window opened, and we heard 
The songs of seraphs and of souls forgiven— 
We cannot weep for them, who ever keep 
So close to Paradise, their very sleep 
Is white with wings, and beautiful with dreams. 
The Foundlings of the AVord, see where they lie, 
On Heaven’s threshold, and above it streams 
A ray of glory. Do ye deem they die, 
When, gates ajar, they creep confiding in, 
Truants from thee, oh, Time, from tears and sin? 
Oh ! wondrous journey, have they finished there, 
From cradle moaning unto angel choir? 
-- 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
MEMORY’S TREASURES. 
PERnAPS she lies ’neath the clods of the valley, 
celestial system should move on in a tangent to its Mrs. Kirkland has very truly said that woman Genius we find that those who have been most ^ er bow sma n which is all ir 
appointed orbit, who can estimate the destruction is never really and healthily happy, without house- conspicuous and celebrated for their talents, have meadows and clover blooms, 
that must follow ?—how complete, it would seem, bo ld cares. But to perform house-work is too trenerallv arisen from the lowest orinin—have had r. __n_„ r„„ 
at the parent’s knee; tempting you again to lift . 
up your voice with child-like trust to your Mother’s 
hold cares. But to perform house-work is too generally arisen from the lowest origin—have had fragrance of flowers and fruits Mv little cottane < "' 0I> ' ^ Ild ’ " ,ien inclined to wandei fiom the 
fremWlv ennsideTwl Hmrr, v f + , • , , ,, B . ,. ... tragrance oi lioweis ana iiuits. My little cottage paths of virtue, do you not feel the soft hand passed 
trequently considered degrading. Even where the to contend, in the earlier part of their lives, with : s covered with woodbine and honevsuckles I , ,, . ,, . ' 
mother, in obedience to the traditions of her in.,,™Lninhle_ to s i witii woodbine and honeysuckles. hghtly over your blW) soothing the innermost 
must be the wreck of the universe ! So, when man frequently considered degrading. Even where the 
disobeys the laws appointed for the government of mother, in obedience to the traditions of her 
uisooeys uie mws appoiuieuiortne government oi mother, in obedience to the traditions of her difficulties almost insurmountable - to struggle rise in the mornimr — which nobodv does in the 6 * V ’ . B 1 " 
his bemg, destruction, disorganization as surely youth, condescends to labor occasionally, the against the frowns of fortune, the want of friends, c itv-and hearken to “the low of cattfe and sons of soul J to rest ? ^o you not indeed forget that you 
yuuu., uunuesccuus iu xauui occasionally, tne against tne irowns 01 lortune, tne want ol mends, ci ty_and hearken to “the low of cattle and song of 
daughters are frequently brought up in perfect and the lack of the advantages of education. Yet b j rds » I take milk from the cow, and not from 
are dreaming of the past, not of the present? 
But dream on. Imagine that same faithful hand 
This disobedience has largely prevailed, and still idleness, take no bodily exercise except that of it is among persons of this description that the the milk-man and find the duality irreatlv im- . - ream ° n - ' lia ^ 11 , ie 1 ia same ait 111 ian 
prevails, and it is only by returning to the right walking in fine weather, or riding in cushioned Arts and Sciences are indebted for some of the tiroved I gather fresh laid eses as in mv hovliond gU1 in £}° atllou g icsiugge pat iw aj—t lose 
iigui, HiUKiug ill line wcuuicr, or ruling in cusmonea Arts and Sciences are indebted tor some ot tne Drove d I nather fresh laid esrmi as in mv bovlmod ° °. . , ° 
path that we can hope, in this state of being, to carriages, or dancing at a party. Those, in short, greatest and most valuable discoveries which have and think of brother CnARLiE°and the nice white P 1 a - els s J ascen mg o leaien m jour e a 
approximate the primal perfection of humanify. who can afford servants cannot demean them- been made, and it is these over whom Poesy has he ^ st0 ne which marks his resting place in the f t ”nl of a Sed°Il “wiHT LZ 
We may nevei 7 each it, foi our physical natures selves, as they think, by domestic labors. There- spread her all-inspiring veil and wrapped them in y iii ao -e church-yard. I pluck apples and nears , T ‘ 
have become so thoroughly corrupted by the accu- suit is, too frequently, that ladies of this class lose the beauties of creative fancj-. Genius is inborn— from my own trees and I teach mv children to lovi u* \ U "° ‘ la iei S° an e a JC 01 man ‘ 
undated results of errors practiced through gene- what little health they started life with, becoming it favors no particular class; but it is certainly re- and beauti f v the chosen spot which is ‘‘our home’’ f J S T T tb ° U ^ -TT 
rations oast, that it were vain to hone for cnmnloto ffichle in i„ s t about the nrmwti™ » tw -? . . our home here below, and be the instruments m God s hands 
have become so thoroughly corrupted by the accu 
undated results of errors practiced through gene- 
suit is, too frequently, that ladies of this class lose the beauties of creative fancy. Genius is inborn— from my owu trees, and I teach my children to love 
what little health they started life with, becoming it favors no particular class; but it is certainly re- and beau tify the chosen spot which is “ our home .” 
rations past, that it were vain to hope for complete feeble in just about the proportion as they become markable that it should so frequently be the case The tea-bell rings. The charm dissolves apace. It von 
regeneration ; but we may rise so far above the fashionable. In this neglect of household cares. t.hnt. fhnsp whom nnvprt.v within its iron __n .. j . . t . a* i a_ a _ . i Opcnin^ 1C peal y CS 0 IXCCIN C ) Oil. 
regeneration; but we may rise so far above the fashionable. In this neglect of household cares, that those whom poverty oppresses within its iron was ab a drcam- j am tied down to business. My 
present standard of health, that it may become a American ladies.stand alone. A German ladj r , no grasp should carve, bj’ their own exertions, a name f a t e i s sealed. It was the Rural that awoke these 
very pleasant thing to live, and the corporeal suf- matter how elevated her rank, never forgets that imperishable—should be enabled to reach the high- p i eaS ant fancies, which thrilled me for awhile like 
ferings we must necessarily endure be very limited, domestic labors conduce to the health of mind and est pinnacle of Fame’s slippery mount, while those the inebriating cup, but which have left me more 
Hillsdale, Mich., 185S. 
Addie E. Walker. 
Especiallj' should woman aim to attain this eleva- body alike. An English lady, whatever may be upon whom fortune has lavished her bounties with restless and discontented than ever. How I hate ^ ord bas a * wa J' s i ready provided, some kind Na¬ 
tion—not for her own sake onlj r , but for the sake her position in societjq does not neglect the affairs an unsparing hand should go down to the grave these paved streets with the endless thunder and mar ^ an > journeying, as if by chance, on the very 
of those to whom she may sustain the relation of of her household, and, even though she has a “unsung, unhonored, and unknown.” Yetthishas clatter of omnibus and draj’—the everlasting travel road wbere tllu wounded traveler lies, and who 
mother—that giving to the world healthy offspring, housekeeper, devotes a portion of time to this, her been the case in ancient as well as in more modern on tbc BaV ements—the ceaseless din and turmoil of arrives J ust at tlie ver y momcnt when 0l1 and wme 
How I hate 
It is op the Lord’s Mercies. — I believe the 
Lord has always, ready provided, some kind Sa- 
she may also rear them to a health}- maturity. true and happiest sphere. A contrary course to times. 
The next point to which we would call attention, resu ' ts a lassitude of mind often as fatal to g 0 was with Homer, the Father of Poetrj r and for business or society. The Rural has worked my 
essential to the best fulfillment of woman’s duties bea ^ b > as negleet of bodilj- exercise. The wife Song, who toiled through life to exalt the Litera- ruin. I am homesick for the country. I am dj’ing 
as second head of the family, is i thorough mental wbo l eaves her household cares to her domestics, ture of his countiy — to throw around her the for Mother Earth. With the desperation of a 
culture. Her intellectual attainments should be as generallj pajs the penalty which has been affixed charms of Poesy, and to raise the minds of his drowning man who has but onechancefordelive- 
varied, and, if possible, as deep as those of man; 1° idleness since the foundation of the world, and countrj-men to other themes than those of gains ranee, I implore j'ou, 0, Rural, stop my paper! 
but passing over the question as to whether there either wilts away fiom sheer ennui, or is driven a nd conquests. He passed away without his coun- Neopolis, Jan., 1859. Miserum. 
is any essential difference in the pow r erof the male all soits of fashionable follies to find employ- trj r men knowing that such a genius as poor, blind 
,. , ,, ‘ , „ arrives lust at the very moment when oil and wine 
on the pavements—the ceaseless dm and turmoil of . 
. T , arc especially needed. I believe, too, that the 
this great, heartless Gotham ! I am no longer fit , . , J , . . , . 
, . . , , , , Lord, in the workings of that providence which is 
r business or society. The Rural has worked my „ , . , , 
T , . , „ , T , . over all Ins works, and which suffereth not a spar- 
un. I am homesick tor the country. I am dying , ., 
„ ,, „ ,, ,, j ,. row or a liedgeling to fall to the ground unpernnt- 
r Mother Earth. V\ ith the desperation of a , , .,. , , , I , ; . , 
, , , . , „ , ted of him, whenever he has a torn and bruised 
•owning man who has but one chance for delive- „ ’ , .. , , , , ,, 
T . i „ „ . , one of his flock, needing a tenderer hand than 
nee, I implore you, O, Rural, stop my paper! , , , .... .. . . . . 
, T .. t rt usual to nurture and heal it, has that hand ready 
Neopolis, Jan., 1859. Miserum. , , . , , ’ , , , , / 
__»..*_*__ to stretch out and help—has one close at hand to 
Success.—E very man must patiently abide his supply the want one whose own heart has been, 
is any essential diflerence in the power of the male JU sorts ox iasnionaoie ionies to nna employ- trjrnen knowing that such a genius as poor, blind 1 
and the female mind, we affirm from her relation ment for her miud - If household cares were more Homer had budded, bloomed, and withered among Success.— Every man must patiently abide his supply the want—one whose own heart has beexi, 
to society as mother, there is as much necessity for generally attended to by ladies of the family, there tbem< The old adage, “ a prophet has no honor in time - lle must wait > not in listless idleness, not in perhaps, touched and prepared by sorrow for the 
thorough culture in the latter as in the former. would bc comparatively little backbiting, gos- bis own country,” is, with regard to literary men, useless pastime, not in querulous dejection, but especial work ol sympathy with some other torn 
An anecdote is related of certain Indians who sent si PP in S> eveiousness, and other kindred sins, and too true _ T he generation in which they live pass in constant-, steady, and cheerful endeavor; always aud sorrowing one of the family. \\ e are apt to 
only their sons to be educated, but it made little women in good society would be much happier them by unnoticed, and posterity is left to be the willing, fulfilling and accomplishing his task; say of such apparently accidental circumstances, 
diflerence in the state of their society, and it be- and much more truly lovable.— Springfield Be- awarder of their greatness. So it was of Homer— that when the occasion comes, he may be equal to “ How ™ry fortunate . but faith lifts up the cur- 
came apparent that their progress in civilization pubUcan. his own times were unmindful of his literary at- the occasion. The talent of success is nothing tain and sees God s hand at work, and cries out, 
.nr.ro tlrnn Jmno- wlnt vnn non rlr. ivoll w.'thm.t n “ It IS Of the Lord S lUCrCieS ! - liCV. ±>. BOUChUV. 
came apparent that their progress in civilization publican. 
could only be effectually promoted by the educa¬ 
tion of the daughters. ^ ome> 
tainments, and what remained of his writings to- lnore than doing what you can do well, without a 
tion of the daughters. ^ 0>,EX s Influence.— God has given to the two day gtand ag records of the beauty 0 f Grecian thought of fame. If it comes at all, it will come 
The idea is coming to be appreciated that the scxes different intellectual powers and qualities— poetry Virgil, one of the most celebrated of the because it is deserved, not because it is sought Triumph over Evil. —We are rewarded for 
child is born with such capacities of mind as are to us ’ the sterner and harder power of arriving at Latin p oetS) was ’ very bumb i y boril) and cultivated after - I* is a vei 7 indiscreet and troublesome am- every triumph we make over temptation. I will 
transmitted by the parents—that a decided bias is th e truth chiefly by argument, by induction, and a sma u f ar m, 0 f which he was a long time deprived, hition which cares so much about fame; about suppose there are many who have struggled 
given to its mentality before birth. If this be the llke 5 while to her he has given that which, unt ii it was restored to him by the Emperor Augus- what the world says of us; to be always looking against the vanity of vain pleasures; many who 
true, what a weight of responsibility is thrown after all, is a higher attribute—the power of intui- TUg But we need not pore over tbe b i s t or y of in the face of others for approval; to be always have put down evil thoughts with a strong will; 
upon the mother! How assiduously should she tl0n ’ of P erceivi ng what is true, what is pure, and ancient times—we need not be confined there to anxious about the effect of what we do or say; to many who, after a long, and, it may be, an uncer- 
cultivate her own intellect that the children she what is noble > and > without the tardy process of a find examp i eS) f 01 . j ater times have shown that be always shouting to hear the echoes of our own tain conflict with the seductions of the world, at 
gives to society may inherit all the mental great- i°ng-considered logic, of coming, by that power Q. en ; us bas generally for its concomitants miserj- voices.— Longfellow. length have triumphed. I will put it to them 
ness necessary to build up and strengthen that w db which he has endowed her heart, at the truest and pove rty, and often-times, crime. The history whether, when thej r have combated and so pre- 
society on a noble and enduring basis! How and the best conclusions. of William Shakspeare furnishes an extraordi- U01 ’ E ' vailed against the evil, and their hearts have not 
should this thought be realized by American *** nary instance of the onward course of Genius, by Tiie world may change from old to new, softened and melted within them, whether they 
mothers, especiallj-, to whose posterity is liable to Children. —A house full of children composes whatsoever difficulties it may be surrounded.— * rom ne " to old a £ a j n > have not felt within their bosoms a seraphic influ- 
be committed the trust of free institutions, neces- as powerful a group of motives as ever moved a First fleeing his native hills and childhood’s home ^ Withffi nnin'sTeart'renpiin 1 ' ence? They have so felt; and so it will ever be. 
sary to be guarded by that “eternal vigilance” heart or hand; and the secret of many a gallant for poaching, we see him acting as an hostler— No sooner shall they have driven from them the 
which “ is the price of liberty!” A feeble, puerile struggle and triumph in the world’s battle may be then as an actor in one of the mormon theatres— The dreams that bless the weary soul, tempting demon of pride, of vanity’, of anger, 
race cannot long sustain a republican government found throned in its mother’s lap at home, or done again as the writer of short dramatic pieces, and The struggles of the strong, u0 sooner shall the devil have left them, than 
in its purity. There must be a progressive strength up in a little bundle of white flannel. A nation’s now, in the eyes of the World, the greatest dra- Tlie sh.r>°ol^ho ve’s so'n^ a *’ angels will come and minister unto them. 
to do this. hope, before now, has been found in a basket of matic writer it ever produced—the admired of all. c s or> o iope s son p . _ _ 
And when we consider how mnch the intelligent bulrushes. Get ready to be afraid of the man that Oliver Goldsmith, too, the simplicity of whose Illusion _There is nothing so real in this world Always Praying. —Felix Neff once made the 
mother may influence the development of her children are afraid of, and be sure that he who writings every one has admired, traveled over a illusion Ml other thin ns mav desert i man following comparison“ When a pump is fre- 
length have triumphed. I will put it to them 
whether, when thej r have combated and so pre¬ 
vailed against the evil, and their hearts have not 
softened and melted within them, whether they 
have not felt within their bosoms a seraphic influ¬ 
ence ? They have so felt; and so it will ever be. 
No sooner shall they have driven from them the 
tempting demon of pride, of vanity, of anger,— 
no sooner shall the devil have left them, than 
angels will come and minister unto them. 
child’s mind through all its earlier years, giving hates them, is not himself worth loving 
direction to “the twig” according to her own -——-*-*-*- 
standard of perfection,—how greatly intensified Cheerfulness. —Sullen and good, i 
musnes. vxeo reuuy to ue airaia oi tne man max uliver vxoldsmith, too, tne simplicity oi wnose Illusion.— There is nothing so real in this world Always Praying.— Felix Neff once made the 
lildren are afraid of, and be sure that he who writings every one has admired, traveled over a ag fusion. All other things may desert a man, following comparison“ When a pump is fre- 
ites them, is not himself worth loving. great part of Europe on foot, procuring, by his but this fair angel never lcaves bim gbe holds a quently used, but little pains are necessary to have 
-—-- musical talents, entertainment among the peasantry star a bmion miles over a baby - s head) and laughs water; the water pours out at the first stroke be- 
Ciieerfulness. —Sullen and good, morbid and of the countries through which he passed. He to see him clawin<>- and battlin'o- himself as he tries cause it is high. But if the pump has not been 
becomes the idea of maternal responsibility! By wise, are impossible conditions. The best test, died in London in indigent circumstances, and a to reacb if gbe g i ides be f ore the hoary sinner used for a long while the water gets low, and when 
the course she adopts, the American mother may both of a man’s wisdom and goodnesses his cheer- monument was erected, by subscription, to his down the path which leads to the inexorable gate, you want it you must pump a long time. It is so 
make a true American of her child, or implant fulness. When one is not cheerful, he is almost memory. He needs no monument—his own fame the kevs of heaven at her nirdle — The with prayer. If we are instant in prayer, every 
within him those principles which shall lead him invariably stupid. A sad face seldom gets into has raised one more enduring than marble—one Autocrat ” little circumstance awakens the disposition to 
to aspire to subvert the might of the people, much favor with the world, and rarely deserves which will stand as long as the love of literature ' * --- pra y ( and desires and words are always ready.— 
overthrow the throne of Freedom, and elevate to to. “ Sorrow,” says old Montaigne, “ is a base remains. The great work of Milton’s— “ Paradise There is no courage but in innocence, no con- But if we neglect prayer, it is difficult for us to 
power the principles of monarchical tyranny. passion.” Lost was composed after he was blind, and stanev but in an honest cause ~~Southron. praj-.” 
