37 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER! AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
BiisrtllatitDtt! 
A FOOT UPON THE STEP. 
BY CHARLES SWAIN. 
A foot upon the step— 
And n hand upon 'lie door. 
But I needed courage yet 
To adventure more! 
The clouds were rolling fleet, 
And the wind was blowing south ; 
’Twns the very hour to meet— 
But toy heart was in my mouth ! 
What power sweet love is thine, 
That, thus the he irt can tike ! — 
That like a trembling reed, 
Can in ike a strong man shake ? 
I pushe I the door ajar— 
And gently called her name ; 
And like an angel stir. 
Her gc.itlc p esencc came! 
She blame ! me—yet her blame 
A smile did olie i show; 
Site sai i she must be gone — 
Yet she moved no step to go ! 
She said she loved me well; ( 
And—after years had flown— 
We might have—who could lell, 
A cottage of our own ! 
So I must toil away 
My honest heart to prove ; 
But labor seemeth play 
When we work for tho<e we love ! 
And sometimes I may smile 
When I tiii;k of days of yore; 
When my heart was in my mouth 
As 1 Iis.ened at the door! 
so rapidly hastening. lie exhorted them to 
good deeds, and warned them to beware of 
the paths of vice. “ Many new things," said 
he, “ have been introdneed among us by the 
pale-faces, and among them, the fire-water, 
which tempts the appetite and charms the 
senses, but renders the soul a corrupt offer¬ 
ing to JYah-ma-ne-u (the Great Spirit.)— 
Shun it my children ! Shun it as you would 
the rattlesnake 'of the mountain, or the 
loathsome alligator which lurks at the bot¬ 
tom of the stagnant pool." lie concluded 
by urging them to live in such a manner as 
to he able, when life had closed, to meet 
their beloved friend “some summer morn¬ 
ing,'’ in tho land where the spirits of the 
good enjoy happiness which knows no re¬ 
verse. 
After the old man’s address, the grave was 
filled up, and I took my departure. A fire 
was kept burning at the head of the grave 
during nine successive nights. This, with 
the candles in the coffin, was to light him 
through tho middle region, between the 
abodes of mortals and tho hunting grounds 
of the blest. The provisions were for his 
| sustenance until, freed from the storms ami 
| dangers of the way, he arrived in tho “ Spirit 
| Land.” 
Randolph, N. Y., .Tun. 13, 1S52. 
DEATH AND BJRIAL OF AN INDIAN. 
BY “CATTARAUGUS. 
THE ARRESTED FRENCH GENERALS. 
Among the favorite subjects of gossip in 
Paris, remarks the correspondent of the 
“ London Chronicle,” are, of course, the 
recent arrests of the military leaders. It is 
profoundly remarked that the characters of 
~ T ,. | these individuals were well illustrated by 
Many years ago, I attended an n< llin their various behavior when informed that 
burial, conducted after the primitive pagan they were prisoners. General Badeau, whose 
fashion. A young Indian, with whom I had disposition is stated to be of all a wily, 
often sported in the golden days of child- j scheming, aiM “ managing” ojder, entered 
hood, had beey for months wasting away j 
with that scourge of northern climes—con¬ 
sumption. It was my custom to visit him 
occasionally, for the purpose of tendering 
such assistance as lay in my power, and also 
to furnish him with many little comforts 
CHARACTERISTICS OF GENIUS. 
Absence of mind, with all its eccentrici¬ 
ties, has been thought tho harbinger of 
Genius. But absence of mind, sometimes 
mistaken for mortal vacancy, is but the 
evidence of abstraction. In a proper man, 
it is, indeed, but a faithful presence of mind 
to some distant truth, and is a more certain 
indication that he lacks interesting compa¬ 
ny, than that he is kindled with tho Pro¬ 
methean fire of this endowment. “ Genius 
is eccentric,” cries the popular belief. So 
is the idiot and the lunatic. But do they 
give us Hamlets and Manfreds? What 
more than genius ought to know the grace¬ 
ful and the proper? What more than it 
should be alive to the slightest violation? 
The youth, of whom his friends can only 
say that he had forgotten his Christian name 
through intensity of abstraction, must bring 
better claims to the tribunal of sense, than 
his dreamy moods, or leave the world un¬ 
convicted of his relation to this high frater¬ 
nity. Perhaps it is only the intellectually 
weak and adulterated generation who seek 
much after the signs of this reality. 
A certain idleness and hatred of study 
are supposed to mark the man of genius,— 
an opinion growing out perhaps of the ease 
and spontaneity of such minds. But it is a 
dissolute error, unworthy of the subject,— 
The fact that genius seizes at once on the 
strong points of a subject, that it darts to 
the conclusion which costs tho slow logic of 
the world much longer time to compass, ar¬ 
gues" great innate activity; an activity, in 
fact, that knows less of repose and slothful¬ 
ness than do the great majority of men. 
Genius has its own methods of study and 
reflection; but idle it is not. Its labor is 
not strained; still it is labor, nothing but 
iabor. We look at a particular work of 
genius, and in our transports among its 
beauties, we forget the care and the toil.— 
No such work is done by magic.— Holland. 
WILLIAM WIRT. 
XaMfiu Sfjuulmrnt. 
into argument and discussion, insisted on 
considering the matter in a variety of lights, 
for the improvement of his captors’ minds, 
and finally arrayed himself cn grande tenue, 
in order to avail himself oi whatever influ- 
ences his uniform should chance to possess 
with those he might meet with on his way. 
General Ohangarnier snatched up a brace 
and delicacies to which his people weie Oi | 0 £ pj s t 0 l 3 } and exclaimed, “I am armed!” 
necessity strangers. At length it was repor- He was induced to yield up his weapons 
ted that “Little Johny Watts,”—for such only when convinced that resistance was 
•could live but a very short j hopeless. 
Gavasgnac.when aroused irom his slumbers 
ind informed that he was arrested, placidly 
remarked ”It is well,/ and rubbing his eyes, 
requested to be apprised whether he might 
be permitted to dress himself, adding, in the 
most courteous manner, that his toilet would 
not detain him iong.. lie rose, went through 
the toilet duties with the most perfect com¬ 
posure and completeness, and then, present- 
mo- himself with a bow to the officer, polite- 
was ms name- 
time. The morning after the reception of j _ 
this intelligence,-I started early to pay him . 
a visit. 
On arriving at tho humble cabin, a half: 
mile Irom my father’s residence, I found the j 
invalid breathing his last. His aged mother 
whose native kindliness oi heart would have ; 
adorned her sex, had her lot been cast , 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
STANZAS: IDA. 
Blooming rose without a thorn. 
Sunny smiles In r cheeks adorn. 
Sparkling eyes, the wicked glai.ee 
Cupid seizes ar liis lance; 
Ida loves to rove among 
Nature’s gifts, with laughing song, 
I.eify (towers—blushing flowers— 
Happy hours. 
Whefc the fragrant freeze lias blown, 
J da loves to rove alone. 
In her .Maying—caieless straying — 
Merry pi tying— 
No cares to sadness cull 
F r world is brightness all. 
Fifieen j cars have o’er her sped ; 
Light and gleesotne is her tread, 
Child-like—mirthful as the morn 
fhe ne’er frowns nor droops forlorn; 
Spirits high are but the part. 
Shown us of*her inner he irt, 
Hopeful, clieerintr, soul-endearing, 
Never fe..ring— 
Brightness lending all around, 
Ida loves a pleasant sound 
Cheery smiling, cate beguiling— 
Dull time wiling; 
With blessings crown tho way, 
Of Ida in Life’s Slay. 
Mirth and glee with her at home— 
Toss away the heavy toinc. 
Who would sit and ponder o’er, 
Wisdom’s vast and hidden store;— 
I.e irn of Ida ns she strajs 
the winding streamlet',’ maze; 
Gently gliding, bubbling, hiding— 
lu nook hiding, 
Musing on the changing scene 
Ma^oves the banks of gree >, 
Waters flowing, wind a blowing— 
Sunbeams glowing. 
From Nature’s varied store 
She gains a mine of lore. 
1’enfield, N. Y. S. H. Charles. 
FEMALE EDUCATION: 
ITS IMPORTANCK IN A PECUNIARY, AS WELL AS MORAL 
POINT OF VIEW. 
IN A SERIES Of LETTERS.—NO. III. 
from, and spoken in terms of high praise ot 
the “ Lowell Offering,” a “ Magazine writ¬ 
ten and edited by Lowell factory girls .”— 
Doubtless many of the articles found in 
that periodical were corhposed while the 
hands were employed at the looms or spin¬ 
dles. How can any one doubt that the 
tedium of labor is rendered light and cheer¬ 
ful by 
“ Thoughts that breathe, and words tlK.t burn.” 
For the benefit that the example may bo 
to you and perhaps others, I am going to 
give you the story of a veritable Yankee 
| girl. I think truth better than fiction, though 
: I would by no means condemn the latter, 
when read with judgment as a spice, rather 
i than the sustenance of the mind. I do not 
j give the real names as some of the parties 
; are still living, and long may they live in tho 
| enjoyment of that happiness which accrues 
I to a life spent in the exercise of virtue.— 
Some perhaps would say after reading it 
“Pshaw 1 cold-hearted, calculating Yankees 1 
there is not a bit of romance about it. ’— 
No matter for that—let simpering senti¬ 
mentalists say what they please, it is a story 
of every day life, and if it serves to illus¬ 
trate and render attractive the principles I 
am endeavoring to inculcate, the end will bo 
accomplished. 
[Lettrt No. IV. will be given week after next.] 
amonw an enlightened people, sat by his j ly declared himself at his service. 
/ , .? , > -fi. ThotVh- Col. Chavras, on the other hand, being 
bedside overwhelmed with gitci. mciatn .» ’ » 
w p ,, i i• i also captured m bed, refused to get up, re¬ 
el’, with tho stoical m l; eit.nco^o no u , to j^gg himself, or to allow himself 
an warrior of the “ old regime, sat in a dts- i ^ (| reS sed; swore that, taken at all, lie 
tant corner of the room, engaged in making | would be taken en chemise, and was taken 
a bow and arrows for his dying boy! A at his word—being bundled up with such 
, ... r i. .... i t- 1 -.n cufFm-i.r nn bedclothes as came readiest, and in that un- 
moment alto,- t entered the smleu.r was no , guis0 Ull . ust into a v ' ollic l e end con- 
moro. Tho mother closed tho oyos ol the ; J pdson . 
corpse, and, after arranging every thing i Gen. Lamoricierc made a determined re- 
aboat the humble couch as neatly as possi- | sistanco of a more- soldierly kind ; but no 
bio, gave herself up to the irrepressible an¬ 
guish which filled her soul. Her wailings 
were the most touching that ever fell upon 
my oar. But the father—not a lineament 
of his features betrayed a sign of grief 1— 
He sat as unconcernedly plying his rude im¬ 
plements, as though he were in lus lono 
hunting camp, far from the abodes of his 
race. 
particular harm was done. 
It is related of General Cavaignac, that 
he was to have been married to Mi lie. Odier 
on the very day he was arrested and im¬ 
prisoned. Upon being sent to Vincennes, 
lie called for pen, ink and paper, with per¬ 
mission to write. Tbe request being grant¬ 
ed, he sat down and wrote a touching letter 
to his affianced bride. He told her that 
being imprisoned for a period, whose term 
he could not foresee, but which must be 
Mr. Wirt was of tall, commanding appear¬ 
ance, and easy carriage. His features were 
classic, resembling in no little degree those 
of the German poet Goethe, ilis voice was 
sweet and melodious; his laugh gay, but not 
boisterous; his conversation highly attract¬ 
ive; and his manners gentle, unstudied, 
courteous/ and winning. Fond of society, 
he at one time, during youth, was endanger¬ 
ed by love of social gaiety, lie was a lover 
of music and of poetry; at the latter he 
even made some playful attempts himself. 
In speaking, his gestures were graceful, his 
oratory smooth, polished, and elegant—it 
won by charming; Patrick Henry’s by stor¬ 
ming the hearts of the audience. He was 
not acquainted with Greek, but in knowl¬ 
edge of the Latin he was unusually pro¬ 
ficient. On his journeys he was wont to 
carry with him a pocket edition of Horace 
for company; but Seneca was his favorite. 
His published letters abound in well-timed 
classical allusions. 
Mr. Wirt’s cast of mind was religious. In 
his youth, wrought into cuthusiasm, he was 
on the eve of becoming a Baptist preacher. 
These feelings, however, subsided, ami his 
religion became more calm and subdued. 
Throughout his life he was a student of the¬ 
ology, a science he much admired, liis 
piety, when his religious views had become 
settled, was practical, leading him to act, 
rather than to dispute on mooted points of 
theology—yet he was not a fanatic. “ I do 
not think,’’says he, “that enthusiasm con- . ... 
statutes religion, or that Heaven is pleased j month are the names ot one thousand two 
am, surround you; choose from among them, 
and you will be happier than I can make 
you.” 
It is pleasant to be able to state that the 
lady promptly and gracefully replied, that 
so far from considering the event in ques¬ 
tion as having released her from a tie in 
which she took so much pride, it had, if 
even 
But three or four hours elapsed before | long, he released her from her engagements 
the interment. In continued expectation of j to him and desired that tho papers which 
. . , . ,. . , . ,, i „„ were ail signed should be cancelled; that 
liis demise, preparation > >4 - / ’ j this, his present fate, was but the common 
that little remained to be done. A ncli and , f or t uno 0 f public men in Franco, and lie 
completely Indian costume had been made, i bade her tulieu. “You have youth, beauty, 
and the corpse, as if arrayed for a triumph, j accomplishments, wealth; a throng of ad- 
was laid in tho’coffm. Tho bright colors of niirors, young and more meritorious than l 
the wampum bolt, feathers, etc., contrasted : 
strangely with tho sunken features and i 
ghostly pallor of the face of the deceased, j 
After everything had been arranged, the 
friends took their places around the coffin, 
and the mother, bending o’er the face of her j 
“ dear departe l,” .talked long and earnestly I possible, rendered her onoajrcment 
to him in the Indian tongue. Her earn- ! more binding than before, 
cstness and pathos were indescribable.— 
Before closing the coffin at the house, a 
quantity of bread and other provisions, to¬ 
gether with a few candles, were placed by 
the side of the dead body. The assembled 
friends then bore it forth to the burial 
ground. This was- a retired spot in the 
woods, a short distance from the house. A 
grave of usual form had been dug, and the 
deceased was lowered to his last, cold rest¬ 
ing-place. The father then stepped forward 
with the bow and arrows, which I had seen 
him so industriously engaged in making, 
and dropped them down upon the coffin. 
A silver-headed chieftain of the tribe— 
Tcn-won-yas, or Governor Blacksnake— 
stepped upon the little mound of earth and 
addressed the assembled multitude. His 
whitened locks glistened in tho sunlight, 
and a benevolent air seemed settled upon his 
features. Ho was a splendid eld man 1 He 
spoke in measured accents, and with deep 
solemnity, displaying with the native orato¬ 
ry of the Indian warrior, the transcendant 
happiness which awaited tho good men ot 
his race in the Spirit Land to which all were 
My Dear Niece :—It is by no means cer¬ 
tain that you may not by some adversity, be 
obliged to earn your own subsistence, and it 
is ono of the blessed fruits of our social or- | 
gamzation, that females may do that, in any 
laudable way, without losing their self-res¬ 
pect or tho respect of the intelligent and 
right-minded members of society. We have 
only to look about us and contrast 
the conditions of the intelligent ' and 
industrious poor with tho ignorant and idle 
| of the same class, to convince us of the pe¬ 
cuniary advantages of knowledge. 
While Hon. Horace Mann was Secretary 
of tho Board of Education in Mass., he took 
considerable pains to collect facts, which 
show the advantages of education to tho 
common laborer; these facts were corrobo- 
ratd by reports from tho manufacturing 
towns of Mass. Mr. J. Clark, of Lowell, 
reported of a single corporation as follows : 
“ I have recently instituted some inquiries 
into the comparative wages of our different 
classes of operatives, and among the results, 
I find tbe following applicable to our pres¬ 
ent purpose. On our pay roll for the last 
EXAGGERATION. 
If there he any one mannerism that is 
universal among mankind, it is that of color¬ 
ing too highly the things that we describe. 
We cannot be content with a simple relation 
of truth—wo must exaggerate, we must have 
a “ little too much red in the brush.” Who 
ever heard of a dark night that was not 
“ pitch dark!”—of a stout man that was not 
"as strong as a horse!’—or ot a miry road 
that was not “ up to tho knee! ’ We would 
walk “ fifty miles on foot” to seo that man 
who never caricatures the subject on which 
he speaks. But where is such a man to be 
found? From “rosy morn to dewy eve," 
in our conversation we are constantly out¬ 
raging the truth. If somewhat wakeful in 
the night, “ we have scarcely had a wink of 
sleepif a breeze blow up while we are on 
the river, the waves are sure to “ run moun¬ 
tain high;” if our sleeves get a little damp 
in a shower, wo are “ wet as if dragged 
through a brook ;” and if a man grow rich, 
we say that he “ rolls in money.” Not later 
than yesterday a friend who would shrink 
from wilful misrepresentation, told us hasti¬ 
ly as ho passed, that the newspaper has 
•• nothing in it but advertisements.” 
Good intention will not justify evil action. 
with the smoke of the passions, any more 
than with the smoke of rams or nulls. There 
is a calm, steady, enlightened religion of the 
soul, as firm as it is temperate, which I be¬ 
lieve is the i e’igion t f Heaven. Its raptures 
are those of the mind, not of the passion; 
its ecstacies are akin to those of David.”— 
De Bow’s Review. 
HUSBANDS AND WIVES. 
It is a custom too common with the men 
of the world to keep their families in utter 
ignorance of the situation of their business. 
The wife knows nothing—has not even an 
idea of the Amount of her husband’s fortune, 
whether it is to be counted by thousands or 
tens of thousands. What can a woman kept 
in such ignorance, learn? She spends, as a 
matter of course, all bo gives her to spend, 
with the full confidence that when that is 
gone, and she asks for it, he will give her 
more. I have never been a dependent; but 
it does sewn to ine that there is nothing in 
till the social regulation of society so calcu¬ 
lated to break down a woman’s independ¬ 
ence of feeling as this. 
If an unmarried woman works she may 
go with a bold an unblushing face and de¬ 
mand her wages; but a wife can demand 
nothing; her claim is only for bare neces¬ 
sity, and I have sometimes thought that gen¬ 
erous men on that account often were too 
indulgent, too fearful of letting a wife know 
the exact state of their finances. It’s all 
wrong. Husband and wife have a mutual 
interest; every wife should know the exact- 
state of her husband’s finances, understand 
his plans, and aid him, if possible, with her 
counsels, and then these terrible catastro- 
phies would not so often happen. Many a 
wife who is plunging her husband deeper 
and deeper into debt through ignorance, 
would, if sho knew his embarrassments, be 
the first to retrench, tho first to save, and 
with true womanly sympathy and generosi¬ 
ty, help him to reinstate his failing fortunes. 
— Mrs. Frances D. Gage. 
Excellence is never granted to man, but 
as the reward of lalier. It argues, indeed, 
no small strength of mind to persevere in 
the habits of industry, without the pleas¬ 
ure of perceiving those advantages which, 
like the hands of a clock, whilst they make 
hourly approaches to their point, yet pro* 
coed so slowly as to escape observation.— 
Sir Joshua Rexpxolds. 
hundred and twenty-nine females, forty of 
whom receipted for their pay by making 
their mark. Twenty-six of these had been 
employed in job work, that is, they are paid 
according to the work turned off from their 
machines. The pay of these falls eighteen 
and three-fourths per cent below that of 
others engaged in the same department. 
“Again, we have in our mills about one 
hundrec. and fifty females, who have, at 
some time been engaged in teaching schools. 
Many of them teach in the summer months 
and work in the mills in winter. The aver¬ 
age wages of these ex-teachers I find to be 
seventeen and three-fourths per cent above 
the average wages of our mills, and about 
forty per cent above the wages of the twenty- 
six who could not. write their names! It may 
lie said they are employed in the higher de¬ 
partments, where their pay is better. This 
is true; but this again may fairly be attrib¬ 
uted to their superior education, which 
brings us to the same result. If I had in¬ 
cluded in my calculations, the remaining 
fourteen of the forty, who are mostly sweep¬ 
ers and scrubbers, and who are paid by the 
day, the contrast would have been still more 
startling; but having no educated females 
WOMEN'S RIGHTS. 
Who can say anything against “ women’s 
rights?’’ Surely, we cannot. We like- to 
have everybody right, the women as well as 
the men. And when it becomes necessary, 
in this world of rotation, for us to change 
places with one of the better half of crea¬ 
tion. we hope we shall put on tho loose 
clothes like a philosopher, while she dons 
the iinspeakables man-fashion. Old fash¬ 
ions are getting obsolete, and it is no use 
to plead long precedence for anything. So 
long as dishes must bo washed and cradles 
rocked, somebody must do it. And why 
should not the men take their turn in a work 
so important? And what a relief, too, it 
would lie, to be freed from the responsibili¬ 
ty and toil of the out-door work! , 
Tho ladies have not held conventions and 
contended for their rights in vain. Already 
the leaven is taking effect. We see that one 
of the Down East women has stopped bold¬ 
ly forward, and is carrying theory into prac¬ 
tice. The Bangor Whig tells a story of a 
family in Eddington. It consists of father, 
mother and six children. The mother is 
robust, healthy and active, but the father is 
quite a different character. It lias, there¬ 
fore, been arranged for the wife to go to 
California and make her “pile,” while the 
husband should stay at home and take care 
of the children. Arrangements being made, 
the wife obtained her outfit for the voyage, 
and started. On arriving at New York, she 
obtained a chance to cook during her pas¬ 
sage out. She accordingly sent back fifty 
dollars to her family, and went on her way 
to the land of gold, determined on making 
a fortune. 
This is really something worth while. 
“ Woman’s rights” is likely to be put to some 
good pur i os *. The lady, as si e is digging 
in the mines, or mingling .in the political 
excitements of California, will know what a 
fino thing it is to get out of bondage, and 
take the lead in this stirring world. And 
the husband, as he nurses those six little 
ones at home, will doubtless feel what a 
monster he has been in times past, in ma¬ 
king liis wife do that kind of work while he 
enjoyed himself with the axe and the plow. 
Shouldn’t we like to look in upon him 
sometime, just when he is obliged to drop 
the dishcloth and run to take up the crying 
young’un. “That’s good for you, old man,” 
we would say. “We hone, now, you will 
learn to let the women have their rights!” 
We have, however, soine idea of trying 
this experiment ourself. If we can get our 
better half to fit out for California, and get 
a good lot of the “ yellow dirt,” wo will try 
to look after the babies till she returns. * 
* * * But here she is, and she 
declares she will not go one'step. She says 
it is “women’s rights” to stay at home and 
mind their own business, and she is deter¬ 
mined to claim that right. So we must 
yield and go to California ourself, or go 
without the “pile .”—Olive Branch. 
Conversation of a True Lady. —In dis¬ 
course her words are more fit than fine, 
very choice and yet not chosen. Though 
her language bo not gaudy, yet the plain- 
ter by the head and shoulders if they dress 
it in quaint expressions. Others often re¬ 
peat the same things : the Platonic year of 
their discourses being not above three days 
long, in which term all the same matter 
returns over again, threadbare talk, ill 
suiting with the variety of their clothes.— 
Thomas Fuller. 
in this department v tli whom to compare ness thereof pleaseth, and it is' as proper 
them, I have omitted them altogether. In ■ and handsomely put on. Eonio having a 
arriving at the above results I have consid- i se t 0 f p lu > phrases, will hazard an imper- 
ered the net ivagcs merely; the price ot tinency to use them all, as thinking they 
board in all eases being the same. I do not ojve full satisfaction for dragging in themat- 
consider these results at all extraordinary 
or surprising, but as tiie legitimate fruits of 
the better cultivation of the moral and in¬ 
tellectual powers. In some instances, num¬ 
bers of ignorant foreigners employed were 
dismissed ^altogether, from their want .of 
skill, and incapacity fo learn; and the em¬ 
ployers give it as their deliberate opinion 
that a manufacturing establishment with 
such hands would be totally unprofitable.” 
What female, particularly if young, after 
reading the above, would not make ener¬ 
getic and persevering effort to obtain a' use¬ 
ful education ? Here is tangible proof that 
learning increases the power of a female, 
or adds very much to her means of support¬ 
ing herself by bodily labor alone. From 
the Lowell factories have emanated literary 
productions of a high order, some of which 
have found places in important publications 
on the other side of the Atlantic; for instance 
“ Chamber’s Miscellany ” has copied articles 
The Deity of Infancy. —As the infant 
begins to discriminate between the objects 
around, it soon discovers one countenance 
that ever smiles upon it with peculiar be¬ 
nignity. When it wakes from its sleep, there 
is a watchful form ever bent over its cradle. 
If slartled by some unhappy dream, a guar¬ 
dian angel seems ever ready to sooth its 
fears. If cold, that ministering spirit brings 
it warmth; if hungry, she feeds it; if in pain, 
she relieves it; it happy, she caresses it.— 
In joy or sorrow, in weal or woe, she is the 
first object of its thoughts. Her p ’esenco 
is its heaven. The mother is the deity of 
infancy. 
