MOOKE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL ANI) FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
FEB. 13. 
fpife' I’.orf-Julifl. 
THOUGHTS BESIDE A CRADLE. 
I hath a priceless jewel, 
That Inil could never buy, 
And though on caith it sparkles, 
Its birth-place is the sky. 
I know the friend who gave it, 
May yet recall the gift; 
Yet daily to the Giver 
This grateful prayer 1 lift: 
“ I thank Thee for the treasure lent; 
’Tis Thine—’tis mine—1 am content,” 
I have a bud of beauty, 
That opens with the dawn, 
And tills my heart with fragrance. 
Until the day is gone. 
And when the dewy evening 
Comes on so fair and still, 
Gon sends his blessed angels 
To shelter it from ill; 
And through the livelong night they stay, 
And keep each harmful thing away. 
I have a tiny nestling, 
A winsome, happy bird, 
Whose music is the sweetest' 
My ear has ever heard. 
It nestles on my bosom, 
And sings so sweet and clear, 
1 sometimes think the angels 
Must bush their harps to hear; 
Is it :;n idle thought, or wrong, 
That Heaven should pause to hear the song? 
My bird, my bud, my jew el— 
My liappy, blue-eyed boy! 
I clasp thee to my bosom, 
And. weep for very joy. 
May He who gave thee, darling, 
Give also unto me, 
To keep my precious jewel 
From every blemish Lee; 
To train my blossom (or the skies, 
To plume my bird for Paradise! 
[National Era 
Written for Moore's Kural New-Yorker. 
“ WAIFS.”—NO. II. 
Wages.—“W hat wages did j'ou have?” 
“ A dollar per day and hoard.” 
mouth-twisting, hoop-spreading, flounce-flirting, 
Alias Flora McFlimseys;” we really believe that 
,ve shouldn't quake in our shoes and find our 
onguc “cleaving unto the roofs of our mouths” 
when addressed by be-curled and be-perfumed, 
shawled and whiskered Alphonso McFlashes; 
and we guess that the kind of greenness, (verdigris) 
that showed itself on the surface, wouldn't then be 
called “the extremely anno} ing.” Why couldn't it 
have been so? 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
THE TWO BIBLES. 
BT KATK CAMERON. 
hr a pillar’d hall, ’ncatk a lofty dome 
Where wealth and pride held their stately home, 
„ , .. „ , T i -i i A Bible lay among treasures old,— 
“ Awful Tempers. ’—“ Oh dear, I don t see how . / ... ., ... 
’ Twas rich with velvet and heavy with gold, 
you could be so careless, tte shun t have a plate left Up>on its clasps, gleamed many a stone 
in the house, at this rate. It does seem as though riiat brightly in ocean caves bad shone; 
there wasn’t any kind of need of your dropping No leaf was turn’d, and no trace was there 
that; you make more waste than your work will To sully the pages pure and fair. 
ever be worth.” And w ’ se men °!T met within that room, 
“ 1 don’t care, I’m glad of it.” When lbe air wa(i loaded with perfume; 
u m i t• i i r t r . i "i The Parian marble slowed with life, 
“ Child alive! Pm ashamed of you and frightened , n 6 x .! 
. , . . , . And the canvas was with beauty rife, 
too, what do you suppose is going to become of There waB manj a tome of ancient lore 
you, w Lit such an aw ful temper?” Wherein was wisdom,—what need of more? 
You didn’t hear the answer, it didn’t come till And these they had read, why should they look 
the child’s flushed face was buried in her hands, On the pages of that quaint old book? 
and she threw herself on the floor of the room, They glanc'd at the clasps where the bright gold shone, 
furthest from you, then it was:—“ I don’t know nor And they praised each rare and costly stone, 
And wise men oft met within that room, 
When the air was loaded with perfume; 
care, I wish I could die.” 1Jut tl,e 8 ems wlthin were never sought. 
No, you didn't say anything to make her give Aud tbe > a " pa * s ' d b - Y wilbm,t a thought; 
, , - rhus the winding paths of Science they trocL 
such <m answer, you didn’t threaten, but you fretted . , - . A *t r ,, . 
’ J * j ./ And forget that the Author of all was Goal 
at her, and if you could have seen the reflection of 
your face, just then, you wouldn't have blamed any J| ut anollier °P en 
. . . _ , . , , On a cottage casement at close of day; 
ernes temper for rising at sight of the wrinkles , 1 . l-.r , • , 
1 & ® Its binding was plain, and every page 
round your nose,—just remember that when fret- Wag bloU ed and dimm’d by the hand of Age. 
ting takes root in the mouth, it shoots up and bios- Still night after night, when the setting sun 
Isoms round the nose,— the decidedly cross-cut Proclaim’d that the day’s weary task done, 
glances of your eyes, and the scowl settled on your The inmates of that humble room 
forehead. Gather’d amid its want and gloom, 
Her remark was an extremely saucy one, but it Aud read fr0,n that Holy Book of Ix,v0 
. t n , r ‘ t a a v /. * Sweet words of counsel from above, 
was the flash ol a quick temper, not an awful one, . .. , , . 
1 J I herein they traced the glorious plan 
-if it had been, she wouldn't be crying her eyes That brought Salvation to einful man; 
out now, as you know she is, under the lashings of with trusting faith ibe truth they received, 
her conscience-rod, trying,—you who have a right And like “little children” they believed, 
(?) to show temper, never know how hard,— to Few were the comforts strewn’round their way, 
quell her wicked thoughts, and resolving ever so Yet all were gilded by Heaven’s own ray; 
firmly that she “ never, never will speak so to mother And iheJ could boaRt ot ' 0,16 i ,reciou8 g« m > 
. ,, For the “ pearl of great price” belong’d to them. 
b ' ,,,,,, , , Unknown and unhonor’d, though they seem'd, 
Now. if you would only help her, when her hands y et Gon’s'loving smile upon them beam’d; 
make mischief with J’our table-ware, remember- What matter th it earth’s humblest paths they trod? 
itig that they are a child's hands,—you would “ lay •< In all their ways they acknowledg'd God!” 
an injunction” on your tongue, nose and eyes, and Rochester, N. Y., 1858. 
give her a mild dose of caution, instead of the bit- ---»♦-*— 
For the “ pearl of great price” belong'd to them. 
Unknown and unhonor'd, though they seem'd, 
Yet God’s loving smile upon them beam'd; 
“Humph! if I couldn’t get more than that, I terness of petulance, she would care a littfe, think- 
wouldn t work at all. ’ jug that her mother was “so good when she didn’t 
Now we haven’t the least intention of earning scold,” and maybe the angels would think so too; 
the reputation of “ eaves-dropper ’ by reporting at any rate, we give the word of our belief, that it 
1 In all their ways they acknowledg'd God!” 
Rochester, N. Y., 1858. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yoikor 
POPULARITY. 
this conversation, for though it dropped over the wouldn’t be written on the debit -side of your life 
“ eaves” of our ears without the knowledge of the ledger. Ellen C. Lake. 
couple between whom it passed, they were no more charlotte, Centre, N. Y., 1858. 
elevated than usual, and we were not in any pros- -_._-_ 
imity to a key-hole; but that it touched the match ‘‘ALWAYS SINGING” 
to a “ train of thought,” which, in exploding, made _ 
some havoc in the regions oi patience, we are free While talking with a neighbor, 1 heard a sweet 
to confess. plaintive voice, singing that beautiful hymn: 
Of course it is seen that its originators were of « Jesus, lover of my soul!” 
the gender masculine, for it is not a usual thing to Thc child was up ’ stair8; 1 knew it wa8 a chil( p s 
any rate, we give the word of our belief, that it Popularity, in its primitive signification, im- 
ouldn’t be written on the debit-tide of your life- plies thc public praise bestowed upon persons and 
dger. Ellen C. Lake. principles for tbe influence they exercise; or for 
Charlotte, Centre, N. Y., 1858. their benefit to the world or communities. The 
—- ; - spirit of emulation is natural to mankind. If we 
‘‘ALWAYS SINGING.” but analyze the various feelings and emotions 
- which stimulate to exertion; if we observe the 
While talking with a neighbor, 1 heard a sweet continual strife in all grades to excel, we shall find 
implanted in the breast of every true and account¬ 
able creature, a desire to perform some act which 
will refiect honor, or establish some noble prece- 
liear a woman telling ol “a dollar per day and voice, from its silvery softness. I listened awhile dent of goodness; an act which will write their 
board; ? but that is not the point we can t put on and j ben g a j d; names with those few bn mortal, 
the face ol a stickler for “ Woman’s Rights,” fur- « That. Hiilri has a cu-noi vnW u “That were not born to die." 
ther than an extension of “to labor and to pray,”— 
in these hard times, and the place where it pierced 
our armor was nearer the point of fretting about 
“ That child has a sweet voice.” 
“ Yes, she has,” returned my friend. “She is al¬ 
ways singing!” 
Since the rivalry which exists among mankind 
is natural, it must, therefore, be just, and its benc- 
b Always singing! Sweet, liappy child! Bird of fits are to be seen in all tbe varied paths of life.— 
man s non-recognizance of blessings, than woman's „ , • , wt ,, . .. , , , .... ...... 
, b b ’ angel wing! Who would not envy thee that The artizan, by skillful competition with 1ns fra- 
epuyatmii o i le .-aaie. gushing flood of happiness within thy soul! A ternity, advances the calling of his art. The states- 
To he sure, a “ dollar per day and board” is not , . . , ? ... 
. .. , soul strong to will and to do; a soul lighted with man, when he demonstrates some principle of 
called high wages in these times, and no one can _ T , ’ , b , . . ’ %,, 
, ° . .. . . , the smile of Jesus, and anchored on the surest jurisprudence not only benefits the civil world but 
be blamed for getting more, when it is possible ,_ , . , . : , .. . 
, . hope a soul that with more than a child’s strength raises his own name to lasting honor, 
and right that they should, but that a man, holding ’ . ., , , ., b . , . ...... , 
. ,.... ... part the dark waves as it goes down the surg- And, in general, the citizen, whatever his posi- 
his right and title to the name, through the possess- ,. .. . 1 . 
„ . , , ., , , 1 mg tide of death. tion or occupation, is most useiul, and happiest 
ion of strong hands, firm will, and a decent modi- 1 
Always singing! I passed that way again.— when receiving the encomiums of his fellow-man. 
u.d of common m dm , sho..,il a\ ei that he Sum mer was here in her fullness, strewing the It is well, too, in order that our labors maybe 
won in two 1 v at a i u. con (lit get mine, ’ e ir t k with flowers, and the sky with stara The justly seen and appreciated, that they should be 
looks like a little too much of the snatch-and-keep same sw -eet voice was trilling on the air: brought in direct contact and comparison with the 
spirit; besides a slight demonstration of laziness. „ 0bj had I the wiDg8 of a dove> j would fl , r efforts of others. It not only conveys knowledge 
That there are hundreds of such principles, ex- Thig time the little singer was in the yard. I t0 up - but sharpens the appetite for more, and 
pressed by word and action among high and low, gazed upon the spiritual softness of her features— P° ints the wn Y from wllich il ma >’ be obtained.— 
everybody knows—if there were not, there might be the sweet eyes like « brown birda flying to the The aspiring genius, unacquainted with the obstu¬ 
be obtained.— 
with the obsta- 
less haunting of wild places on the highway, less light> „ tho fine expressiv0 lips> lhe dark silken cles in life, and the difficulties of obtaining re¬ 
records of “ bloody murders” in cities, less stealing curls; j felt that she would soon have her wish novvn » ia ai ' oused to zeal in its more active duties, 
of silver spoons in the country, and, last but not 
least, less sinking of barques, striking of colors 
and dying of hopes, on the sea of speculation. 
answered, and “find a refuge in Heaven!” 
Always singing! Autumn came; the wild swan 
was turning towards the South; the leaves were 
only as his fancy is stirred by tbe clarion notes of 
fame. The applause of mankind sounds dear to 
him, and to secure it he “lives laborious days,” 
There is a vast difference between the earner and dropping from the trees, and spears of frost glit- burns iu i<lni S bt oil, and, forgetting fatigue, ill- 
gainer the one wears broad-cloth, the other linsey-— to red among the grass. A strip of crape fluttered beabb aud physical discomfort, he devotes long 
one has clean hands,the other a clean heart,and while from the shutter of the house where my little sing- ^’ ears of labor to elaborati)1 S a science, developing 
one feels fhe pride and affection of rightful owner- er lived. Tier voice was clothed in death and aa idea, pioducting a poem, oi peifecting a work 
ship loi his possession, the other is fearful of trembling bands bad bound tliosc truant tresses art. His chief enjoyments consist in the culti- 
breakers and doubts all men through the measure around her white brow. By the great white throne val - io11 of lbe mind, in the indulgence of high 
which would almost he rightful law:—“ as you have by the river of eternal gladness, she was striking thoughts and the speaking of them out to the world, 
done to others, so do I unto you.” her go lden harp, and singing in’the gushing full- The P resent t0 bim ia ever the beginning of abril- 
No one disputes a man's right to do as well as ne ss of imperishable glory!_ F. II. Stauffer. liant and successful Future. He looks back upon 
he can in the world; every one lias somewhat of _____ the past—upon the history of its deeds of heroism 
the spirit which sees beauty in the metal Children. _Christ, in blessing the little ones of —'with disdain when compared with his more lofty 
“Bright and yellow, hard and cold, Judea, blessed all children; and meant that we aspirations. 
Heavy to get and light to Hold;” should reverence them as the hope of the world.— Many persons strive for, and, to a great degree, 
but mind you, it lias something of the sei-pent-bite How when life grows dark before us_when its succeed in obtaining a reputation in the world of 
and adder-sting about it if you take it from a poor woes oppress, and its crime appals, we turn in- ^ etters established almost entirely upon the result 
man’s cup,—no matter whether the law says you stinctively to little children; with their brave, sun- of otbers ’ labors > and for a time tb eir life is a con- 
may or not. The law is like a weak mother, smiting ny faces of faith and good cheer—their eyes of tinual festival Everywhere they are praised, llat- 
you for one sin and smiling on you for another,— unconscious prophecy, and drink from the full I cred > extolled and almost worshiped. But, inl¬ 
and as to thc quantity which you wish to get at a fountain of their fresh young natures, courage and luckily for them, though fortunately for principle 
time, if you have any stock in Conscience-bank or comfort, and deep draughts of divine love and their fame is of limited duration and can never ar- 
any investments in Sense, the bed on which “won’t constancy. How a child’s pure kiss drops the very rive at an Y £ rea t eminence, since plagiarism must 
work at all, unless I can get more than a dollar per honey of heaven into the heart soured by worldly be c °nflned to the more obscure portions of 
day and board” places you, will have some thorns misfortune!—how a child’s sweet smile fulls like literature. 
in it,- we hope. oil on the waters of thoughts vexed by worldly Great men, however, often fail to receive a due 
" care, and smoothes them into peace!— Grace Green- recognition of their superiority in lifetime. They 
> elf-Esteem. 1 eople may say what they choose XC00( i live and die in obscurity—like an Otway they per- 
of the merits of the “bashful we are not quite-- jsh of hunger; or, like Milton, live and die in 
certain that it is for our interest to dispute any- Co-Operation of the Wife.— There is much some unknown alley, and are buried unwept and 
with all the pomp of royalty, while tho Athenian 
poet sleeps in the grave of a pauper, yet 
“ Thirteen cities claim tho Homer dead, 
Through which the living Homrk begged his bread.” 
THE WRONG END. 
The great mass of society-thinkers begin at the 
wrong end—at the surface instead of the base; and 
It should be our aim to become popular by living benc0 their almost universal iailure. They laucy 
exemplary lives, worthy in purity of principle of and " e il " aie * ncbned t0 fancy—that if govern- 
the imitation of the present or any future age. We ineil f were 0ld Y better, society would be better. W e 
should ever keep before our moral vision, the mir- seem 10 that politicians and governors might 
ror of our mind and character that we may behold do milcb * or us lbe J 7 would. ^ hat an absurdity 
and correct our imperfection.— that we may 
“See ourselves as others see us,” 
and thus be enabled to look at the past without 
shame and into the future without fear. 
Fentonville, Mich., 1858. Iota. 
, Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker 
KNOW THYSELF. 
Tub old adage, “the proper study of mankind is ^ ^ u “ 
man,” has lost none of its original force by time namC through thc vanous mi3rule t0 whioh we ar0 
•„ „„ • c, . , subject. But we assert that the, at best or worst, 
and this maxim of the ancients, may well be apnlt- . ' 
0 , , • i i . i . ‘ , politics and government, in a free country, need 
ed and wisely heeded in the present age of tele- ‘ . . „ ,, r , 
_.. __ . T ,. ... ,, not affect us materially. We make a radical mis- 
of conclusion! Politics and government are only 
a reflex of our own ideas and will,*, e., of the ideas 
and will of the ruling majority; and how, there¬ 
fore, can we or society be helped by politics and 
government, save as we help ourselves? If we 
were to make our politics honest and straightfor¬ 
ward, and our government just, (as, with sound 
politics, it most likely would be,) we should, no 
doubt, be greatly benefited; for it cannot be dis¬ 
guised that we suffer much tax, disorder and ill- 
name through the various misrule to which we are 
subject. But we assert that the, at best or worst, 
graphic progression. In connection with the 
teaching of inspiration “we are fearfully and won- 
take when we look to the surface—or political and 
tiling of the kind,—but any one who lias clung to good sense and truth in the remark of a modem unhonored. Sn akspeare, after spending a labori- 
this “worn old earth” through revolutions enough au t bor , that no man ever prospered in the world life in 1he Metropolis, returned to an obscure 
to be near “years of discretion” must know that a without the co-operation of his wife. If she country town where he breathed his last without 
well developed “bump” of self-esteem is the unites in mutual endeavors, or rewards his labor causing the slightest stir or commotion. He had 
best helmet that can be worn in battles where the with an endearing smile, with what ^confidence will no public funeral There was little mourning at- 
“ lire ’ is from people’s eyes, and that the possession be resort to his merchandize or his farm, fly over tending his death, for few knew that the great had 
of self— especially that portion from which blushes lands, sail over seas, meet difficulty and encounter gone forever. It has taken from that day to this 
and tear-fountains rise, is an extremely necessary danger, if he knows that lie is not spending his to build his reputation, and it has not yet oulmina- 
antecedent to a like possession of comfortable feel- strength in vain, hut that his labor will he reward- led. Tasso was imprisoned in a mad house. Dante 
ings and ease of manner. Such quiverings of the ed by the sweets of home! Solitude and disap- ate the bread of poverty in exile, and Homer is 
lips, such chokings of the voice, such beatings of pointment enter tbe history of every man’s life; said to have died a public beggar. But time lias 
red-hot tides over cheek, brow and ears, as it has and he has not half provided for his voyage, who done justice to their memories. Their wearied 
been our fate to witness and know in the years that finds but an associate for liappy hours, while for forms have long since returned to molder in the 
lie behind us, and all through the wicked power of months of darkness and distress no sympathizing dust; but their labors are now, and ever will be, 
that ogre,— bashfulness! partner is prepared. preserved as mem entoes of their greatnes. Bright 
\\ e wonder why there conldn t have been some ---- and beautiful as the stars above us will continue 
“ fixed standard ’ as to the amount of brass used in Infallible ! — Write your name by kindness, love, to shine their names in history’s pages. Death but 
the “ alloy ” of our human nature. If there only and mercy, on the hearts of the people you come adds to their glory. When the names of kings and 
had been, we are sure that we, of the country, in contact with year by year, and you will never be conquerors are forgotton; these will be mentioned 
wouldn’t be so wilted by the dash and glitter of forgotten.— Dr. Chalmers. with love and veneration. Kings may be buried 
derfully made,” it forms a pleasing and profound ° r , ^ lp ' " e Are 
theme for study and contemplation. Did you ever tbus the P« rt of Polish teamster, who 
refiect what a volume for observation and intricate f °° d 8ho ““ n * t0 IIerculc8 for hul P’ wben be mI S ht 
study, human society, in all it, anomalous phases, pUt h,S f 0uldcr t0 lhe rutted wheel aud re ' 
fluctuating laws and rigid customs, opens to the ievbf llinse • . , , 
i ,-„i . , We love to cast our indifferent or bad fortune 
curious student. A book which one may studv , , 
„ . , „ * „ , . J upon other shoulders than our own, and are always 
and learn himself, not aa “man sees himself in a , , J 
. . , ready to question Providence, and attribute to so- 
arlass darklv.” but a maeno miror. more nntpnt tRnri J 1 ’ 
have put his shoulder to the rutted wheel aud re¬ 
lieved himself. 
We love to cast our indifferent or bad fortune 
glass darkly,” but a magic miror, more potent than ... . . .. , 
i c x- ,. ciety and government evils begotten by ourselves, 
all the fabled gods of olden time, revealing man . . . , . b , i 
, .. . ’ b What we want to mend society and perfect govern- 
to his secret self, separating, as it were, the im- . , ,, ... 
, ./ „ h . , ’ ment—and thus secure our own greatest good—is 
prisoned soul from its confines of clay, enabling it <• , .,, , 
in stand alnft and nnntn.nniatn tu. r v tlie regeneration of ourselves. If we are idle, let 
to stand aloft and contemplate the elaborate fabri- . . . . . 
, .. , ... . * .. . . us become industrious; if extravagant, let us bo 
cation of its dwelling in all its exquisite and com- , , .. . . , , ’ , . ab “' u '’ ^ 
i . , . . frugal; if dissipated, let us cultivate temperance, 
plex mechanism, and observe its own curious ac- f , , , 1 
.. , . . .. , ., , . . and so on through the whole catalogue; and we 
tion when set in motion, and guided by its own , „ . ,, b 
r , , „ . J . shall soon witness a most agreeable metamorpho- 
minmnff. Tiftt. n« rrlnnr.ni ns i s n urino- ranrxvAa nnrl ° I w 
cunning. Let us glance as its alluring records and XT . , 
„ .. . . b .. sis. Not only will our own affairs be righted, but 
scan some of its more prominent illustrations. . , •„ . , . .. , . . ,° 
tt . , .. . , , , society will right itself, for society is on y a sum of 
How strangely it actuates that votary of mam- . .... ° ’ t \ . . 
... individualities. “ lhe proper study of mankind s 
mon, quickening the hearts pulsations, exciting „ ... , . . , , 
, . .. ^ man,” says the philosophical poet, and man hason- 
every nerve and accelerating the breath a, he grasps >„ , . . .. , 
, . , , ,, f . , , , . Iy to set himself right in order to right mankind, 
convulsively at the opportunity presented by Ins <• .1 • . , 
. ,, , .. . - x „ , . Without this righting of tilings at the base, the 
neighbor’s necessity and oppression, to swell bis 8tructure 0 f society will always be irregular and 
own already heaping coffers. How very plausibly 1]ncouth( and the Burfacc di80rderly and repulsive. 
wifli nilv.tnrirrnorl oiiavifr lir* Pvnloina nml . ........ J 1 
with oily-tongued suavity he explains and modifies f et everjr individual be but tbe (] fractian and 
the conditions, while rapid fingers indite the in- 80ci ety and government will he all l,c can desire, 
strument which he so well knows will make him There is no other road to pe rfection.-^W. 
the possessor of that home which hard years of _ 
sweating toil and wearied muscle have but sue- ADMIRATION 
ceeded in making it the beautiful home it now is; 
and pocketing his sixty per cent., clasps his wallet Never force yourself to admire anything w 
in trembling haste that he may enter the sanctum vou are not in the humor: but never fm-e.e 
ADMIRATION, 
Never force yourself to admire anything when 
you are not in the humor; but never force vour- 
ere the bell has ceased to summon. One moment self away from what you feel to be lovely, in search 
behind at lecture would be a sin unpardonable.— 0 f anything better, and gradually the deeper 
And that one, whom tlie conventionalisms of ele- scenes of the natural world will unfold themselves 
vated society excludes from its sacred precints, as to you in still increasing fulness of passionate 
unworthy their association, whoso hand and purse power, and your difficulty will be no more to seek 
are ready to aid the poor emigrant who stands or compose subjects; but only to choose one from 
sorrowfully surveying tbe noble animal whose life among tbe multitude of melodious thoughts with 
is sacrificed in tlie attempt to bring him to a home which you will be haunted; thoughts which will 
and happiness; who writes not his charities on of course be noble or original in proportion to 
tlie sounding records of popularity; carving your own depth of character and general power of 
cherubs for sacred desks, or cushioning slips for mind; for it is not so much by the consideration 
the sanctified few, hew compare his chances for you give to any single drawing, as by the previous 
the kingdom. 
There is another picture which we could wish, 
discipline of your powers of thought, that the 
character of your composition will be determined. 
oh, how earnestly, eternally blotted from tbe re- Simplicity of life will make you sensitive to tho 
cords of human life. When angry words and refinement and modesty of scenery, just as inordi- 
lierce dispute soils and embitters all tho fountains nate excitement and pomp of daily life will make 
of forgiveness and truth, and vengeance’ deadly you enjoy coarse colors and affected forms, llab- 
venom poisons all the soul, then its of patient comparison and accurate judgment 
“Such scenes make y 0ur ar t precious as they will make your 
Are acted as make the derils blush. „ _ „ j _ „ • . 
. . , . . , . ’ actions wise and every increase of your noble 
And angels and righteous men grow pale.” , . . ... . . ... 
0 , „ enthusiasm in your living spirit will be measured 
Such scenes occur, far too often, in the volume of by tbe reflection of its light upon thc works of 
human experience. Listen a moment at this 
gaudily ornamented and dazzlingly lighted saloon. 
Fierce words of angry contention, the chilling 
vernacular of demons is too familiar and easily 
repeated there. All sympathy and brotherly kind- 
your hands.— Itusicin's Elements of Drawing. 
A HEARTY LAUGH. 
After all, what a capital, kindly, honest, jolly 
ness is erased, and the fire of satanic revenge flashes glorious thing a good laugh is! What a tonic!_ 
in those eyes. The quick strong, blow is given.— What a digester! What a febrifuge! What an 
See, the life-blood boils forth, and a soul is launch- exorciser of evil spirits! Better than a walk he¬ 
ed into eternity by its brother. Still another dark fore breakfast or a nap after dinner. How it shuts 
picture oi life claims our attention. t bc m0 uth of malice and opens the brow of kind. 
“ The saddest seen in time ness! Whether it discovers tlie gums of age, the 
A man to-day, the glory of his kind,— grinders of folly or the pearls of beauty; whether 
To-morrow, chained and raving mad, and whipped it rack the sideH and deforms the countenance of 
I b servile hands. vulgarity, or dimples the visage or moistens the 
Ah, what a chill of revulsion thrills the beholder, eye of refinement-in all its phases, and on all 
what a weight of sorrowful pity moves thc heart, faceSi cont0 rting, relaxing, overwhelming, convul- 
as he surveys him sing, throwing the human countenance into some- 
Sittiug on dismal stiaw, thing appropriate to Billy Burton’s transformation; 
And gnashing with his teeth against the chain, , . , , } 
The iron chain that bound him hand and foot, under ever y circumstance, and everywhere a glori- 
And trying whiles to send his glaring eye 
Beyond tlie wide circumference of his woe; 
Or, humbling more, more miserable still, 
Giving an idiot laugh that served to show 
The blasted scenery of his horrid face!” 
Though a smile of mirth be at first awakened, 
sing, throwing the human countenance into some¬ 
thing appropriate to Billy Burton’s transformation; 
under every circumstance, and everywhere a glori¬ 
ous thing. Like “a thing of beauty,” it is a “joy 
for every.” There is no remorse in it It leaves 
no sting, except in tbe sides, and that goes off.— 
Even a single unparticipated laugh is a great affair 
to witness. But it is seldom single. It is more in¬ 
fectious than scarlet fever. You cannot gravely 
on witnessing the strange actions of the demented, contemplate a laugh. If there is one laughter and 
it soon fades, and we turn away, with a sigh of re- one witness, there are forthwith two laughters.— 
lief and fullness of pity. Ah yes, tee are fearfully And so on. The convulsion is propagated like 
and wonderfully made. sound. What a thing it is when it becomes epi- 
Prolific are the records of human society in les- demic! 
sons of observation and experience, whose teach- m 
ings it were wise to heed and obey, and in its careful TnE Marcd to ™ b , Gravh w 857 - Wh at a 
conning may each one attain the acme of human might y pro “ u f 9 be , en ™ ved to ' vard9 the 
k-nnwWW and learn to know himself. S rave da ™S tbe P ast J' ear! At tbe usual estimate, 
i knowledge, and learn to knout himself. . , , . . _ 
! January, 1858. So» On. since the 1st of January, 1857, more than thirty-one 
__ __ _ million five hundred thousand of the world’s popu- 
SUGC-ESTIONS TO YOUNG MEN. lation have gone down to the grave. Place them 
•- in long array, and they will give a moving column 
In the course of my travels, I have seen many a of more than thirteen hundred to every mile of the 
promising and fine young man gradually led to circumference of the globe. What a spectacle, as 
dissipation, gambling, and ruin, merely by tbe they move on, tramp, tramp, tramp, the “Dead 
want of means to make a solitary evening pass March” giving its funeral notes as they go on to 
pleasantly. I earnestly advise any youth who quits the silent shades! 
that abode of purity, peaco and deHght, his pater- -- 
nal home, to acquire a taste for reading and writ- LI?B - 
ing. At every place where he may reside long, let BsT ™ two breatbs > what clonded m ? 8terie8 lie » 
him study to make his apartments as attractive and sbort gaRp ’ tbo la ®' and lo . ng ’ d ^ awn 8Igb ' 
* 1 Like phantoms painted on tbe magic Bliue, 
comfortable as possible; for he will find a little Forth from the darkness of the past we glide, 
extraordinary expense, so bestowed at the begin- As living shadows for a moment seen 
ning, to he economy at the end; let him read the In airy pageant on the eternal screen, 
books in the language of the place in which he Traced by a ray from one unchanging flame, 
lives; and, above all, let him never retire without Then seek the dust and stillness, whence we came. 
writing at least a page of original comments on -*- 
what lie has seen, read and heard in the day. This Home.— We talk of the rewards of an approving 
SUGGESTIONS TO YOUNG MEN. 
ing. At every place where he may reside long, let Bet ™ tw0 breatbs > what clonded “Dories lie, 
him study to make his apartments as attractive and 7 !' e Q ™ 1 sbort gaRp ’ tbo laA ' and lo . ng ’ d a awn Mg, “ 
1 Like phantoms painted on the magic slide, 
comfortable as possible; for he will find a little Forth from the darkness of the past we glide, 
extraoi dinary expense, so bestowed at the begin- As living shadows for a moment seen 
ning, to be economy at the end; let him read the In airy pageant on the eternal screen, 
books in the language of the place in which he Traced by a ray from one unchanging flame, 
lives; and, above all, let him never retire without Th*” 1 seek the dust and stillness, whence we c&me. 
writing at least a page of original comments on -*- 
what lie lias seen, read and heard in the day. This Home.— We talk of the rewards of an approving 
habit will teach him to observe and discriminate; conscience, but it seems a little hard to devote 
for a man ceases to read with a desultory and one’s life to labors of love, and receive no more 
wandering mind, which is utter waste of time, palpable compensation. He who has a home, nev- 
when he knows that an account of all the informa- er so humble, if it be the garner of affection, may 
tion which he has gained must be written at night, defy the changes and chances of the outward 
— Clayton's Sketches on Biography. 
world. —Alice Carey. 
