Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
culiarly beautiful flowers, but they could scarcely 
be so lovely to my childish eyes as were those 
scented thyrses of purple lilacs, with their peren¬ 
nial bloom and beauty. 
That ancient dwelling in the pleasant town of 
Fairhaven is now much changed — the place is 
changed—the inhabitants are changed—and could 
Ireturn to my early home, I should doubtless feel 
the like a strangerin a strange land; but if I found 
sweet, familiar blossoms of the lilac in their olden 
THE VASE OF WITHERED FLOWERS. place tbe little gate ’ a bome feelin S would come 
- over me, and the flight of years would be forgotten. 
bt Libby kb al. Those simple flowers wrought such a delight in 
I plucked them from the grassy bank chUdish heart ’ “ 8UCh a & born of beauty,” 
Beside the meadow’s pearly stream, that they are as a living presence to this day, and 
From ’mongst the grass so dark and dank, stand as a type of the simple pleasures of child- 
Beneath the sunlight’s golden beam. hood. Through the brief season of their bloom 
From their soft petals shook the dew how man ? beartS thej gladdened ’ bow many dim 
That weeping left its silken throne, e J es and sad faces brightened at their loveliness. 
Took from its bed the violet blue, Large clusters of them were carried to the sweet- 
The lily, daisy, one by one. faced girlish teacher who presided at the white 
, . ,, . „ school-house on .he corner, and were carefully 
I placed them where the sunshine fell , , , , „ .... J 
In many a glorious, pleasing ray, placed ^ her taper fingers ln the broken P itcb er 
I thought the flowers I loved so well ornamenting the carved and battered desk, and 
Would bloom for me full many a day. bow they strengthened her timid little heart thro’- 
But they, removed from native bed, ° U ‘™ r! d * J ' TLey cheered sick chambers 
Too quickly drooped by alow deciy, ‘Z ® UD "^ P resM “, to the lauguid 
No genial soil their nature fed— . su erer thoughts of the leafy woods, and 
. They wither’d soon and pass’d away. purple-eyed violets nestling in the cool shadows, 
_ TT and murmuring fountains foaming up from the 
Bo Hopes, like fairy blossoms grow, ,_, ~ • , , , 
A1 heart of jeweled moss, and, more than a 1. bearing 
Along the noiseless stream of Time— , „ ’ ’. » uca 
We pick them, yet full well we know suee messages from a fairer country, even a 
They wither soon in this dark clime. heavenly. As I thought of what a blessing they 
And flowers of Joy we gather there, had • b f e “ f t0 . ^ h ° W ^5 7™ bl6SSing 
The fairest, sweetest blossoms cuU, “ ynads ° f chl ! dren dv7elllDg bappy hearth- 
Soon wither’d by this world’s cold air, stones scattered over our wide country—aye, and 
To earth their blasted petals fall grown folks, too, for that matter—I thanked God 
_ * „ that they were, indeed, “So Common!” 
But amaranthine flowers e’er bloom Cohocton, 8teuben c N> y ^ 
Beside the crystal stream of Life— ' 
And Angel hands those flowrets plume 
Where golden cups with joys are rife. 
Northville, Mich., 1859. 
FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 
---- At first I thought she was a nun, from her black 
WHAT HAS WOMAN DONE ? dress and close cap. She was not introduced, and 
_ ‘ yet Edmund and I looked at each other at the same 
In the Rural of July 16th I observed an effusion n j 0raent to whisper, “It is Miss Nightingale!” 
3m “Queechy,” which appears to me quite-aftra. " ies ». lt was Flor ence Nightingale, greatest of all 
en are denounced as “monsters and tyrants ”_ uow * n name and bonor among women. I assure 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
GOOD NIGHT. 
Good night! 
For vigil stars are bendiDg now 
O’er nature hushed in sleep, 
So do not sainted loved ones bow 
And watch o’er mortals keep ? 
I'll trust that on this trembling heart 
A parent waits the angels part. 
Good night! 
Good night! 
My burthened spirit hastes to pour 
In Jesus’ ear its care and grief, 
To plead for strength, and faith—implore 
From dread temptation’s power relief. 
Remembering dear ones, then I’d crave 
For you God’s richest grace arid love. 
Good night! 
Victor, N. Y., 1859. H. 
—-»-♦-*— -• 
THE AUTUMN OF LIFE. 
Before my door, in summer’s heat, 
Proudly the elms their branches spread; 
Cool verdure sprang beneath my feet, 
And shadows played around my head; 
Joyful I passed the sultry hour, 
And mooked the sun’s meridian power. 
But when, with withering hand, the frost 
Shriveled the leaves, and gaunt and bare, 
Their naked arms the elm tree tossed, 
While Autumn tempests rent the air, 
I mourned the summer’s glories fled, 
And copious tears of sadness shed. 
When winter came, and cold and still. 
The ice-king forged his frozen chain. 
And over snow-clad vale and hill 
Midnight assumed her solemn reign ; 
Forth looking from m} window bars, 
Through the stripped limbs I saw the stars. 
Thus earthly loves, like summer leaves 
Gladden but intercept our view; 
But when bereft, the spirit grieves, 
And hopes are crushed and comforts few ; 
Lo! in the depths of sorrow’s night 
Beams forth from far celestial light. 
from “ Queechy,” which appears to me quite ultra. 
Men are denounced as “monsters and tvrants.”— 
Indeed! are they? By whom, pray, except it be you that1 was glad not to be obliged to speak just many of the graves are sunken, and the’stones Some merciful purpose he hidetb, 
a few, a very small number of misguided females, tben ’ for 1 Pelt fl uite dumb as I looked at her leaning, and some of them fallen. My father was When thou only seest his frown. 
and of these you will find their exact counterpart . wasted figure » and * h e short, brown hair combed with Charles the night he died, and I remember - 
in some specimens of the genus homo. Yet who .°J er h er forehead like a child’s, cut so when her - how anxious I was to ask about him but could GOODNESS OF GOD. 
of us would say that, as a race, “ they are tyranni- llfe W “ despaired of from fever but a short time not,—for the death of one who had always been so T ....... ,, 7-7 
cal, egotistical, and mercenary ?” No one, I trust. ag<X Her dreSS ’ aS 1 have said ’ was black ’ made r happy and cheerful himself, and who could do so . • 7 le8 ® , and les f anxious to make formal vindi- 
We will judge not the many by the few. Our h,gh t0 the thr ° at ’ lts on,y ornament being a large = ■ = much to make others so, seemed very strange and Ca J° mS ° f * be goodness of God. It needs no advo- 
legislature is more generous than “ Queechy, ” for enameled broacb which looked to me like the Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker solemn to me. The Captain, too, is there at rest m l T take f itself ’ in Spite of cloud8 ’ 
it has granted to woman not only the right to hold, odors of a regiment surmounted with a wreath of “A RAINY DAY IN HAYING TIME” with a bead-stone above him bearing his true hnt^bThlinr 6 ^’^? 76 “ T’ and none 
but to control property, not doubting her ability laurd ’ D ° d ° ubt SOme grateful offering °ur __ ^ name, not as familiar to his friends as the other 1 blind can seriously question the Creator's 
todo S0 ’ To hide the close white cap a little, she had I T is raining, mining-clouds settling 0 n the Most of the rest a ™ there also. Their families g °° dneSS \ We hear indeed of men led into doubts 
‘‘nnMntvr’i _ i j- , .. tied a white crane handkerc.hif>fnY/kr tbo lvo^L we;* , •„ . & on the __ _ on this point by their sufferings: hut. t.lioso Hmihta 
him on the right track, by mentioning some inci¬ 
dent of their common experience, and then “ Char- 
let” would start off with such a story as would 
soon drive all thoughts of school or its require¬ 
ments from my young head. “ Captain Bill ” was 
the familiar name of another of this band of wor¬ 
thies. It was his frequent boast, that though he 
carried a greater load of years than any of his 
fellow-laborers, he could still carry as wide a 
swath as the best of them. The old Captain had 
been a powerful man in his day, no doubt, but 
the many days of toil and exposure he had 
seen, and the many glasses of “ Pingley ” he had 
taken, bad shown their effects in weakening his 
strong limbs and quenching the fire of his eye.— 
But as he grew older, and as his other powers 
failed him, his tongue seemed to gain what these 
had lost, and as a rainy-day story-teller, his supe¬ 
rior was not to be found. Besides, as he had seen 
a longer life than the rest, his library of unwritten 
experience—upon which he relied for the founda¬ 
tion, at least, of his stories—was, consequently, 
much larger than theirs. But he usually required 
a good drink of cider, fresh from the cellar, to 
sharpen his wits before commencing. And did 
not the cunning old fox know, if he should just 
hint that “ when the boy came back he would tell 
a wonderful fine story,” the cider would come all 
the sooner? My only wonder is that I did not 
sometimes, in my haste, leave the tap loose in the 
barrel, thus meriting the tongueable displeasure of 
higher powers. But I do not remember that such 
an accident ever happened. 
The memory of these early friends has always 
been dear to me. The quaint maxims and rules of 
life learned from them, often contained much ster- 
ling common sense, and at the time I treasured 
them up as sacred. I was always a favorite among 
them, and never asked a reasonable favor of any 
of their number, but it was readily granted. In 
this, however, some of them were not altogether 
free from selfish motives. They well knew that 
“little Joe” held almost absolute sway over a 
well-stocked cellar, and that there were numerous 
other important favors which it was in his power 
to bestow. 
Alas! Time’s changes! The two brothers now 
sleep side by side in the country grave-yard, where 
many of the graves are sunken, and the stones 
leaning, and some of them fallen. My father was 
with Charles the night he died, and I remember 
how anxious I was to ask about him, but could 
not,—for the death of one who had always been so 
happy and cheerful himself, and who could do so n 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker, 
HAGAR IN THE WILDERNESS. 
, BY ELIZABETH BONTON. 
Tin? bond-woman’s infant lies gasping, 
Faint, weary, and ready to die, 
O er his bosom his tiny hands clasping, 
Raised to heaven his dim pleading eye. 
The pitiless heavens bend o’er him, 
Beats the sun on his shelterless head, 
Underneath, all around, and before hiia, 
The sands of the desert are spread. 
Unable to comfort or aid him, 
His agonized mother weeps nigh, 
Not daring to look where she’s laid him 
For, oh! she can not see him die. 
Oh, cruel the master and father, 
Who, alone in the desolate wild. 
Bent to perish by thirst and by hunger 
His handmaid and innocent child. 
And did He not promise, that Being 
Whom master and mistress adore, 
That the seed of the boy yonder dying 
Should outnumber the sands on the shore ? 
No eye sees the tears, unavailing, 
The life of her darling to save, 
No ear hears her impotent wailing, 
ner own hands must hollow his graven 
Lonely weeper! no tear ever glistens 
Unseen by one pitying eye, 
One ear ever open still listens 
To suffering humanity’s ory. 
And lo ! from His throne, earthward winging, 
A bright pinioned angel appears, 
Relief for thy sufferings bringing, 
Sad mourner, away with thy teara. 
And learn that God’s goodness abideth 
Though sorrow encompass thee round. 
Some merciful purpose he hidetb, 
When thou only seest his frown. 
----- 
GOODNESS OF GOD. 
much to make others so, seemed very strange and 7 Yf 7,77 01 U0U ' 11 ueeas no ad7 °- 
solemn to me. The Ca^ain, too, l ^here afrest T « wdl take car «^ ^self, in spite of clouds, 
with a head-stone above hL 111 Me °> who have eyes, believe in the sun, and none 
mistake in this, for many of our most prosperous “ e ,°. n h er entering the room, otherwise Miss steel portraits. How the 
. use me graining in —- .-^ neari. since 
in-drops patter on the tb en, haying season has found me in many places 
growth of some open or lurking depravity. It is 
not created, but brought into light by the pressure 
men owe their success in busiuess to the careful *'gWmga e is by no meass strtkingin appearance, broad, scaly roofs of the firm buildings-on the New York, Ohio, and among the prairie and b " tbr0U g kl '"‘ 0 l 'g bb J ,be P™ 
and well-directed management of the household. °" T hcr pl ““ bl,ck d , re ,f ■ <l u >et manner and great arbor, with its roof of Icijes and its eeilinn of »“ k -»Penmgs of the Far West—and though it is , S ', 11 ls lndeed » good 
All the arenue, of business open to women are .T™?' “ d ” P^f,,Ilya!together in thatassem- c I„sters-on the .W.eAi^cf , J „ "if. ° »»t in the usual course of my present occupation. ?, f , P f “'i"' rel ””“ ed ; pres8i °g “ 
All the avenue, of business open to women are renown, mmsopower.nuya.u.getnormthatassem. clnsters-on the Oarclui lefc-of tbe”eabh»ot in the usual course of my present occupation, L ZrM w * ' ^ A T' 
crowded, proving that she not only can, but will df br ‘" 1W dr "“f *” d J-*"-. She is very rows-and on th, hoof-woifflCledge ‘ How 1 P“ s s the season by without spending i “ i, mav h ' h, o' 3 '? 10 ” Hla 
mamtaiu herself when opportunity permit,. £.?>,”“* u b ‘ igHi h " cosily it sounds under the E roofwiaZ few days at baying, out of regard forthe memory -nTTn . .T-!'”! 
simpHcUy “ Whath' wilb f 8 *«“*“ illooss and g“.t fat^ue. She'S very p'romh a ; d » f #~sh hay-ftechirp- ^’ j£* ‘“g ht - «* -Jsieries of q.es.ions of God's be” e’voleuce tiTgia'mo^ 
of a monument?” Is itpisTbl.'''one bent nose, slightly Eoman and small dark eyes, offc feathered’ d”m“, ^°, Stl^nn* »• Y. 1859. ™ oe " r 8 »cs the glory and feels 
«n„onai,,r» a , kind, yet penetrating; but her face does not give , Ti . a ’. au f loua aoout tneir nu- ___ withinhimselfthepowerofdisinterestedgood- 
mentable ignorance of thTnohled ^ ^ la sucb la ' you at all the idea of great talent. She looks a U ami ldS ' ' ‘s rainu/g ram mg— raimng! GRAVE ANTI TAV ness is quick to recognize it in others, especially in 
fortitude ofin thp'nncJf deeds and b® avenl y quiet, persevering, orderly, lady-like woman. I Memories of past baying seasons come flocking GRAV E AND GAY. his Creator. He sees in his own love a sign, ex- 
ent-UTAf n.,t ttf , r P ?, S as tb e pres- have done my best to give you a true pen-and- across tbe mmd —banishing the present like the R P pnntonl with , v pression,andcommunicationofUncreated,Un- 
fiai'r ° First lot mp P1 ^ i t0 ink portrait of this celebrated lady. I suppose <^ and crooked paths (onthe window pane,) which bread until vou are nnnhl' t 0d “ ajr butter your bounded, All-originating Love. The idea of 
to Paulina the d^rJ d ° •/ ajs of autl< J UIt ^’ there is a hum all over the world of “What is she seem to blot out tb e fields and trees from our sight _. ‘ a e o ea 1 . malignity in the Infinite Creator shocks his moral 
When her hnshiLI Wlf n ® f f, CA ’ wh o, like ?”-Sketches by Mrs. Hornby. to - da ^ Fifteen or twent 7 years ago there were . W ° AT tree J e P r esents a person who persists in nature, just as a palpable contradiction offends his 
u himSdf ’ -- - _ fGWer maChinCS butm ° re bay-makers. And when mCumn S debta? (will owe.) reason. He repels it with indignation and horror. 
v . , „ a , ier mi gbt ebb with “please LET TVTF RE A tttttp pop » a rainy day like this came, they claimed it as a M hen ill news comes too late to be serviceable —Charming. 
his,-to Epponina, who cheerfully shared all the PLEASE LET H BE A LITTLE BOY.” holiday> and sat about the barn or leaned to your neighbor, keen it to vn„™if —-^_ 
Vivw numuui sigui w LJ in me 1UUUHC VyiCOflUl SHOCKS Ills moral 
to-day. Fifteen or twenty years ago there were . V ° AT tree re P resents a Person who persists in nature, just as a palpable contradiction offends his 
fewer machines but more hay-makers. And when incumn g d ehts? Willow (will owe.) reason. He repels it with indignation and horror. 
hardships and privations of exile, and made her 
home in a cave for her husband’s sake,—to Arria 
“PLEASE LET ME BE A LITTLE BOY.” 
“Oh, Johnny!” cried a nervous mother, “d* 
o‘ f he .ur„“ TfT’ r dT pX™„tT„r»;s7r poor he ‘ d 1 c “’ ttou ™ ■»”v" ds ” toid * “■' b i‘°f g m°e“; m ^- - -.- - - **«»-«»* *» »»^ 
visitmg him i„ ht jz r , up ih VT rciK wi,b f 
pious daughter returned to its source,’"—to Yolum- h , d , g tw ° cbairs ta n d e m . and called out pelled them to ha BCythe and rake a , father ’ and Mirth and Good-humor his boon com- lives, and all that is bright, and pure, and beauti¬ 
fy 7 th6 p ° f CoRI °™>-<>r, -ore recently, U £ . Wh ° 8! ” But me an excuse for ‘‘staying Ume fromscZ !”- P T° n8 - h + takes the sombre Sue of their Swn fancies, 
to Madam Roland, and Josephine, where we be- !v ® ^ eaSU ff “ thlS su PP ress * d The rainy patter on the roof seemed all the while f “J“f ° bari ; lster ha ^ng asked a voter the Their religion consists in bemoaning the evils of 
hold a strength ofmind almost supernatural. Out ^ 1threw down tlbe reins and laying rem i ndillg them that they were spending Their 7alue ° ■ f bo«ae the answer was, “Thatdepends the world, in lamenting the gradual decadence of 
of the multiplicity in the present age I will men- ^Z Qt Z S f & time as profitably as could be expected^,sTncetheTe upon what sort of a wife there is in it.” good, and in regarding all home evils and foreign 
tion only a More, a Stowe, a Prior, Ann H., the “ otner » “ 8 tu “ of ; noisa - here, and it hurts could be n0 work for them in the field The following direction appeared on a letter re- complications as “ signs of the times. ” They are 
wife of the missionary Judson, a Florence Night- “® R :° w f® P , bo D °, n * a11 Ilttle bo ^ s make a Wou ld that mv pen could do iustiou in rh Cen% delivered in Auckland, Durham:-“ For the Elijahs, who retire into the wilderness of their 
ingale. Have these done nothing for which a J „ a * acter^^hiTh my^ 5^ EHZabeth ^ SpeDCer ’ a taU ™ ma °’ with two own contemplations, saying, “I, even I, only am 
monument could with propriety be raised ? Have ^ Jes, Johnny, I believe they all do,” replied the ^ ^ left,” unconscious that all tLe time thefe .« not 
stTLs 0n nfl°,Tl g ’T 0rt 7 °f remart? Such ln - «o h then mother dear ” cried Tnhnnv ’ day exactly as they seemed to me then. In every A short time ago the following notice was stuck on!y the “seven thousand who have not bowed the 
emal are not rare, as some may , . . ’ , 9 . } in a band there is a leader and r T nprpo tt ^ a window, near Manchester*_ k^ee unto Baal,” but that multitudes are every- 
families' dvf 6 coutains who > in tbeir joinTo’or JohTny^eTrtilv'in t/^^t't’ account of superior merit, held this placeTmong “ Wanted ’ two apprentices; they will be treated where obeying the gospel call. They are the Jo- 
e llies, daily perform more noble deeds and build p , J P y tily in this petition, the party which vearlv swuno-thoir S as one of the family!” nabs sitting under the gourds of their own security, 
4 on o/e occasion, when his friends ^ thatthe judgments of Cod do not deseed 
fewer machines but more hay-makers. And when * n ' curr —8 debts? Willow (will owe.) 
a rainy day like this came, they claimed it as a When ill news comes too late to be serviceable 
holiday, and sat about tbe barn or leaned against to y° ur neighbor, keep it to yourself. 
the new made mow, whiling away the time with The first time a woman marries is generally to 
many a long story. How deeply interesting to me please another; the second time is invariably to 
were the “ long yarns ” told in that ring of merry please herself. 
hay-makers! Many an hour have I sat listening n . „ 
... , , waning Good sense is the father of Wit. TmH 
-Ghanning. 
MODERN ELIJAHS. 
an excuse for -staying home from school.”- A EEVISING barrisi 
rainy patter on the roof seemed all the while va i ue 0 f a house, the 
lnrii n(Y thorn that, tlmu _ ’ 
for themselyes more lasting monuments than The PleaS6 ’ motber > ^ Jour sons be little boys while the pa T* 7 , which J early S ^ UDg their sc y tbe s over 16 am ‘ J 
building of bridges, steanffioats, or railroads for theF ma ^’ Let them have a free and happy child- -7 ^ s meadows. The man was not to be J ol-ire, on on, 
theirs is the sacred task to mould the mindsoTthe b ° od - tbat when bead is ^ in the grave f ° U1 T Wb ° ^ ^ as smdotb and broad a ^ , C ° d ; ar h S1Dg 0d 
youth of our land-to teach the future “ states thej “ ay P ° int back to tbose da J s and say- “ We ^ m . the Ba ^ fi ® ld “ wbo could outshin e bim on 8erved > The world 
men, orators, and editors,” to be miSty in the ^erebappy children, for there was sunshiL where 'TT® fi f d at ‘ “ USter da L—- b o could dlsg -ses her age.” 
cause of right—“ for just as the twig is bent the 0ur mother was -” , tel l a better stdr ^ for a rain J aa y- 1° youth he We notice scores 
tree’s inclined ” t _ t , ,__ ba d been remarkably strong and active, and many to friends who are ii 
Shawangunk, N. Y., 1S59. ulius. rTTTT TVFrnnn were the stories he told of his exploits at the foot- of the heart utteran, 
race, at leanincr wrpstHnor an/1 i 1 — j _ 
were conversing on the antiquity of the world, ob- Up ° n a guilty world - These hypochondriacs are 
served, “The world is like an old coquette — she seldom found am0n g the earnest workers, who 
disguises her age.” ” seek i° i ea ve the world better than they found it, 
Wv „ n (i m cannaa , but among those who see its evils and sit by with 
We notice scores of poetical effusions directed f 0 i ded b;mds 
A Glorious Thing. — Men of the world are 
sometimes ashamed to pray, and are unwilling to 
c» S e of rigM-« fo^ras the t^gTUt Z ”»* b “ »’ “ “ be ““ ,* f7- . 1“ loath ho W. notice score, of poetic.l effusions directed S ed Zds ‘ " ^ 
tree’s inclined.” Julius -- bad been remarkab l7 strong and active, and many to friends who are in heaven. Better give poetry __ 
Shawangunk, N.Y., 1859. ' CHILDHOOD. TaTe' ^ l°’°t ° f tb J beartuttemnee inwords and deeds of kind- A Glorious Thing. — Men of the world are 
_ _ race > at lea P in g> wrestling, and the like—which ness to friends upon earth. _*.•„.i., , . . 
r “ — matches were more in vogue in New England . , - .. . . sometimes ashamed to pray, and are unwilling to 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. L ET no man smile, in the self-sufficiency of his twenty years ago than they ar T r ° A WAG bem " told by an acquaintance that Miss be seen in a praying circle; but they only pro- 
“SO COMMON.” acquisition, at the perceptions of early, very early b a Pn in earlier dnv« „ ruft-meu ! ° ia Lrown (who is rather a broad-featured young claim their spiritual ignorance and blindness. 
- childhood. Deep and rapturous are they, as some and this part of his life abounded ^ 6 . er “ mac ’ lady,) had a benign countenance, he replied, “Per- The following paragraph indicates more wisdom 
“ What’s the use of petting a lilac?” asked my of those rare: old springs of limpid water that bub- He could embellish these interest’ 11 ™ reinGI baps you mean seven-by-nme.” and discernment:—As John Foster approached 
cousin Jennie, as I bent caressingly over a favorite ble in brawling beauty to the earth’s service from all the skill of a Walter Scott T ^ An outside passenger on a coach had his hat tb e close of life, and felt his strength gradually 
bush one pleasant June morning,—“ no one thinks rock . Trecesses that never may see the light of day. be ba d never read a book thr^ P p 6SU ™ e blown over a bridge into the stream. “True to stealing away, he remarked on his increasing 
anything of lilacs in Liberty—they’re so common,” To childhood all is real —that which appears to wag one 0 f t bos e uncultivated^ e ’- •* 6 nat ure,” said a gentleman who was seated beside weakness, and added, “But I can pray, and that 
and the curve of the speaker’s red lip expressed be » is. The little hand that, with no mental guid- 
bovereign contempt for those so weak minded as ing not i° n of distance, out-stretches to grasp the 
was one of those uncultivated, yet gifted spirits T 7/ 7 geuMeman WD0 waa f 
who are all the more lively and entLaioZ L ^ “ lmer “ tar “ ll r '‘ ke » ‘ b » 
who are all the more lively and entertaining, be¬ 
cause their style is natural and unformal, and 
m, “ a naturally takes to the water.” is a g lor ious thing.” Truly a glorious thing; 
A TEAcnER wishing to explain to a little girl the m ° re g * oldous tb an an atheist or pantheist can 
anner in which a lobster casts its shell h ever P ret end to. To look up to an omnipotent 
t^how liking for any flower except some queenly i-ry be auty, is but a type of the 'ZL'ZlZZeCZre — in which a lobster'^.Tt. ^ ^ 
pa^cian blossom just from the tropics. She had J^g --d that has made no moral comparisons. their liveg bave been a wild race th f b h ® has outgrown it, said, “ What do you do when you Fath er, to speak to him, to love him ; to streteh 
no rltpectfor the floral “democratic throng’’-not J| lvldlt T of conception and absolute faith in all rough places of the world He had tt y g have outgrown your clothes? You throw them UpWard aS a babe from the oradle, that he may 
Ste - V ■ t . h .° f “ ir SP ? 8 ‘f”?? 1 !, 0 ’ Smil - imie farm of own on ,ho bank, of tiro Merri- «•*> d »“'* “Oh, no,” replied the Uttle “ b > 8 '(ild in hi, everla.ting arm, totb. reeling- 
ing bef^cc me in its young beauty, faded away, philosophical judgment of gentleness or barsh- 
and in its\ stead was a quiet New England village ness > make up the early mysteries of human intel- 
little farm of his own on the banks of tbe Merri- aside > don,t 7 0u “ 0b , i 
mac, but he always finished his own haying while one ’ ** we let out tbe tucks! ’ 
place of his own bosom—this is the portion of the 
dying Christian. He was overheard thus speaking 
ana in USA ihicau nao auuictneiv X/Liiiiaua vniaiie ' 1 - J uumou imci- tv-o wnoo Ji.. .J j, , . . „ u ... vunsuau. JJLU was uveruotuu iuus spuamug 
—one of th^e fairest jewels on the green old breast lect i perception and moral education, acting and band bv the timp h • 1 V es > an ™ on - lvine, cau lomng e c ergy against en- w ;t b himself:—“0, death, where is thy sting? 
of Maine. W dim, misty sea Tine, the piney re-acting in their thousands of after conditions, do £gaging in violent controversy, uses the following 0 , grave, where is thy victory? Thanks be to 
woods, the everlasting hills, the verdant meadows, al | the rest. Happy is that tiny lord of the ere- 0 f our comna of hav-iTal^' Wa8dSua J ® ne PPF 7!7 e ’ we wi e contending, let us God, who giveth us the victory, through our Lord 
curiously embroidered with flowers—how very fair atl °n whose first tottering mental steps are guided ma tch in the field he could nrtU dneu Hip ' 6 t 6 V/, 6 7 ® vine > wbo shiill pro- j eS us Christ.” The eye of the terror-crowned 
they were, crov\ned with the golden diadem of pure by kindness. Woe, woe to tbose who, with so “s^w '°Z'hi m'fn th ”T Tr™ ^ ?*, ^ 1 “°‘ UU ^ ™ »P«» hto, »d thus be defied him -Family 
Hey sunshine! 1 Somewhere in this seaside village "<*« * » * 1»~. 8 »»', fresh, and nnsnl- “7 « ** f„T ^ —* n0ise Treasury. 
was an old red im-house, embowered in clinging “>e h«ndsof its Maker, confided to them, ^ ^ 'l, fZ Tt TTJyT ° CCa ; ‘ ' . --- 
vines, and, furthermore, in the front yard two abu se tbe confidence of nature and betray their tl ’ .. ^ a i^ten, now and How many sickly ones wish they were healthy; Bible Promises.—T hey are like the beams of the 
beautiful lilac bushes budded, and blossomed, and God .—Stammerer. TheT TalTLT rJfra ^ n ^ bettei ‘ mem0I Y- how many beggarmen wish they were wealthy; how sun, which shine as freely in at the windows of a 
filled the balmy air with fragrance through each -. , SmCa a 16 Same time ’ and man J ones wisb they were pretty; liow many poor man’s cottage as the rich man’s palace. 
succeeding spring-time. I have „„ donbt tbnt tbe IIe who gives pleasure, meets with it. Kindness S , l “ Pid °'bT^ ,lle5 ' b °' V T 7 b ,“ Ch - -- 
fruit of the Hesperides was very nice in its wav: is the bond of friar, ow^uiooi-ofi. k. ri„.— , r .. more readil ythan elors wish they were married; how many Benedicts Looking Upward.— He who seldom thinks of 
beautiful lilac bushes budded, and blossomed, and God. Stammerer, 
filled the balmy air with fragrance through each - 
succeeding spring-time. I have no doubt that the He who gives pleasure, meets with it. Kindness dents of their various « drives ” more lead vthan , 7® ^ wer \ wi ^ how bach ‘ -~~- 
fruit of the Hesperides was very nice in its way; is the bond of friendship and the hook of love • he Chvrles Vow ,1 7 71 7 d ^ elors wish they were married; how many Benedicts Looking Upward.— He who seldom thinks of 
or that the gardens of Armida contained some pe-’ who sows not reaps not ’ par " L a ffUd eff r^ his T T "Vl "f ^ ^ ! Si " gle or double « lile ’ s ful1 ^ - ™»t likely to get there ; as the way to hit 
’ P paUDg f ° r a grand effort ’ b^ brother would set of trouble-riches are stubble, pleasure’s a bubble.. a mark is to keep the eye fixed upon it .-Home. 
