MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
JUNE 12. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
“MOTHER, DO THE STARS E’ER SLEEP?” 
Day had set, and in the west 
Lingered yet its parting smile, 
On pensive evening’s gentle breast 
Nature softly slept the while. 
Sweet Maud, whose little hand had drawn 
The snowy curtain half aside, 
Sat, childlike, gazing on the scene, 
And wondering where the fairies hide. 
Then upward glanced with curious eye, 
And long surveyed the wide expanse; 
Gazed far into the azure sky, 
As one spell-bound or in a trance. 
Then starting up with eager face, 
As if in thought engrossed quite deep, 
She asked with simple winning grace, 
“ Oh, mother, do the stars e’er sleep. 
The mother answered thus her child, 
“ The stars are orbs whose beauteous light 
Shines on the earth with lustre mild 
To cheer the silent gloom of night." 
Sad was the wondering little one, 
As close to mother’s side 6he crept, 
Bent low her head upon her hand, 
And, grieved at heart, she silent wept. 
“ Why weeps my pretty little Maud?" 
The mother asked in kind concern; 
“Does she not love the gentle stars 
That hail the evening’s blest return?" 
“I thought the stars were angel’s eyes, 
So tenderly they looked on me, 
I thought they hovered in the skies 
From every harm to keep me free.” 
“And brother Willie, does not he 
Live among the stars so bright? 
His snowy wings I’m sure I see 
Folded, while rests he in his flight.” 
Sweet, child-like Maud, ’twere bliss indeed 
Through life to pass without one fear— 
From passion’s dross refined and freed, 
Concious that angels linger near. 
“ Be this thy lot, my precious one, 
While earthly ties shall bind thee here;" 
Thus mused the mother of her child 
And kissed away the falling tear.” 
Sandstone, Mich., 1858. Adnikl. 
) c:r P r e ;r ilh ” 8erun ‘'” owMge ' an " llc,e?ou (Sbaitt fpmttxMr. 
Corollary 2d.—It is evident from the above vUL) » 
proposition that all the belles, and beauties, and 1 .. : 
rosy cheeks, ought to remember the day of wrin- THE BEAUTIFUL LAND, 
kies and grey hairs. - 
Scholium.—A handsome young lady is none the BT BA RRT coky wall. 
better for her beauty, if it be without mind, nor a there is a land immortal, 
homely one none the worse for a want of beauty The beautiful of lands, 
if she possess a mind. Walter R. Bishop. Beside the ancient portal 
Attica, N. Y., 1858. A sentry grimly stands. 
__ He only can undo it, 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. And open wide the door; 
And mortals who pass through it 
W (AMAIN. Are mortals never more. 
We learn from the Bible that “ God created man That glorious land is heaven, 
in his own image, in the image of God created he And deatb tbe sentr y grim; 
him. And the Lord God said it is not good that The Lord thereof has given 
. , ,, , , ... , ? , The opemng kevs to him. 
the man should be alone; I will make an help meet And rangomed eighing 
for him.” From this it appears that she was not And BO rrowing for sin, 
created to be his slave nor to rule over him, but “a I Do pass the gate in dying, 
help-meet for him.” In this one short sentence And freely enter in. 
are embodied the duties and “rights” of woman. Tbo’ dark and dreart he passage 
If she would know more fully the extent of her That leadeth to the gate, 
proper sphere, let her take the word of God, and, Yet grace comes with the message 
beginning at the first chapter of Genesis, read To souls that watch and wait; 
carefully both the Old and New Testament She And at the time appointed 
will there find recorded, an d most beautifully illus- A messenger comes down, 
. , . , . , , , And leads the Lord’s anointed 
trated, all the prominent points of female charac- „ ,, . , , 
’ 1 1 I* rom the cross to glory s crown, 
ter; and her own proper sphere, in language too 
plain to be misunderstood. She need not follow Tb ® ir s ] gbs are ! ” st m mnging ’ 
,, ,, . . ,, , . .. They’re blessed in their tears, 
all the vain and foolish fashions of the day, for the m,„. . , , . . 
•” Their journey homeward winging, 
decoration of these “frail tenements of clay” They leave to earth their fears, 
which must so soon moulder hack to dust Let Death like and angel seemeth; 
her he neat and tastefully clad, and her adorning « We welcome thee,” they cry; 
be that “ inward adorning; even the ornament of Their face with glory beameth— 
a meek and quiet spirit, which, in the sight of God, Tia life {oT tbem 10 die - 
is of great price.” . 
And further, let lier not waste precious time in Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
pursuit of frivolous and sinful pleasures, for we MB. PLOWILINDLE STIRRED UP. 
are sure that high and holy joyp, and blessings un- - 
told will he the reward of a faithful discharge of Karttail Cottage, &c., May 15, 1858. 
duty. Rather let her cultivate the talents given Col. Moore:— We have just been reading the 
her; the graces of the mind and heart, that like Rural for this date. It’s come a day before, which 
Abigail, of old, she may be of “ good understand- seems queer. I suppose it’s owing to the mistake 
ing.” Oh, that we could see woman clothed in the of the printer, for how else could we get it on Fri- 
beautiful garment of Humility, fulfilling her noble da Y when it’s dated on Saturday? 
mission, with honor to herself and her Creator, -As I was busy shelling seed corn, Susan just 
and, by influence and example pointing to that looked it sort of skimmingly through, and when 
bright world above, where care, sorrow and sin will she got to that “ note of Mrs. Churndashkr’s,” she 
be forever excluded, and the weary shall find rest, came right out to the corn-house, and says she, 
THE BEAUTIFUL LAND. 
BY BARRY CORNWALL. 
There is a land immortal, 
The beautiful of lands. 
Beside the ancient portal 
A sentry grimly stands. 
He only can undo it, 
And open wide the door; 
And mortals who pass through it 
Are mortals never more. 
That glorious land is heaven. 
And death the sentry grim; 
The Lord thereof has given 
The opening keys to him. 
And ransomed spirits sighing 
And Borrowing for sin, 
Do pass the gate in dying, 
And freely enter in. 
Tbo’ dark and drear the passage 
That leadeth to the gate, 
Yet grace comes with the message 
To souls that watch and wait; 
And at the time appointed 
A messenger comes down, 
And leads the Lord’s anointed 
From the cross to glory’s crown. 
Their sighs are lost in singing, 
They’re blessed in their tears, 
Their journey homeward winging, 
They leave to earth their fears. 
Death like and angel seemeth; 
“ We welcome thee,” they cry; 
Their face with glory beameth— 
’Tis life for them to die. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yprker. 
MR. PLOWHANDLE STIRRED UP. 
Karttail Cottage, Ac., May 15, 1858. 
Col. Moore:—W e have just been reading the 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
EUCLID’S GEOMETRY. 
Proposition 1st—It is required to prove that 
beauty is disadvantageous. 
Let beauty he the given subject, and the disad- 
c-, N. Y., 1858. Jennie. 
---- 
A LADY’S OPINION OF A LADY’S MAN. 
Mrs. Stephens, in her excellent monthly maga¬ 
zine, thus “ pitches in” against a class of men which 
is becoming far too numerous: 
“ Our own private opinion of the lady’s man is, 
“ Pa, here’s something in the Rural about you.” 
“ Well,” says I, “ read it” And so she did. 
“Pretty good,” says I. “Wonder if she’s a 
widow?” 
“Why, of course she is,” says Susan, “for you 
know it’s the rule for married women, who have 
husbands, to put their husband’s first name; but, if 
they are widows then they put their own name.” 
“How has she signed it, then?” 
“Mrs. Jane Churndasher.” 
“ Poor thing,” says I, “ it’s too bad for such a 
going home from meeting one night I asked her if 
she’d have me. And after all, that’s the salt on the 440 AUa] 
bird’s tail that keeps it from flying away when you VlAJ t) 
go to catch it. Keep the blossom buds of youth- —. ~ 
ful affection opening in age, and the tree will bear NO NIGHT IN HEAVEN. 
good fruit. - 
“Its no great thing to have a happy home, if you “ Alld 155610 6556151561X5 ni s ht tiere,”— Rev. 22 : 6. 
really want it,” says mother. “ Any woman who n5 £ht shall be in Heaven—no gathering gloom 
has a true man for a husband, can make him a Shall o er that glorious landscape ever come; 
-u i_ j . . ,, .. ... , , , No tears shall fall in sadness o’er those flowers 
good husband, and he will all the time think he’s . , ” “ , " " 
, . .. , . .... That breathe their fragrance through celestial bower*, 
doing it himself.” 6 
“ Well, how can it be done, Ma?” says Susan. N ° night shaU be in H 6a ™ a -no dreadfu i hoar 
t j, . , . _ Of mental darkness, or the tempter’s power. 
Why, just as easy as darning stockings, my . ,, ,. . K , 
.. n . ... , , . .. . Across those skies no envious clouds shall roll, 
daughter. Put sugar on his bread and butter, put To dim the gunlight of the enraptured gouL 
sugar in his tea and coffee, and honey on his 
buiscuit — and keep all the vinegar away. If he No night shall be in Heaven. Forbid to sleep, 
____._,, , , , . , . These eves no more their mournful vhrils keep: 
gets cross and scolds, put a lump of sugar in his . ... , t> 
f. 6 Their fountains dned—their tears all wiped away; 
mouth, but don’t give him anything sour. Sour They gaze, undazzled, on eternal day. 
things will spoil a husband, Susan, as quick as sour 
pans will spoil sweet milk.” *° ni « ht * ha11 be in Heaven-no sorrow’s reign- 
(<n . i. „ r ,. ... , ... No secret anguish—no corporeal pain— 
Oh, ho,” says I, that’s the ticket, IS it?” No ghiveri ng limbs-no burning fever there- 
Men are naturally stubborn, and like to have No soul’s eclipse—no winter of despair. 
their own way.” ^ . . , « _ , __ 
T , , , No night Bhall be in Heaven—but endless noon; 
I made a long bow. No f aRt declining sun nor waning moon; 
Lut a woman can lead them, my child, just as But there the Lamb shall yield perpetual light, 
easily as I unwind this ball, only fasten the line to ’Mid pastures green and waters ever bright, 
their hearts. The best of men will get cross and No nigbt ghall be in ne aven-no darkened room, 
scold sometimes, bat a few kind words or actions No bed of death nor silence of the tomb; 
will soon subdue them, and then they’ll feel so sor- But breezes ever fresh, with love and truth, 
ry, that if you only keep on in that way a little Shall brace the frame with an immortal youth, 
while, and are reasonable yourself, you can lead No night shall be in Heaven-but night is here- 
them where you will.’' The night of sorrow and the night of fear; 
Says I, “ Susan, that’s so, and if yon want to he 1 mourn the ills that now my steps attend, 
a happy wife, and have a happy husband, give him And shrink from others that may yet impend, 
the sweet, but don’t let him get at the soar.” No Dight shall be in Heaven! Oh, had I faith 
MR. PLOWHANDLE WANTS TO MATCH-MAKE. To rest 5n what the faithful Witness saith— 
If Mrs. Churndasher is really a widow, I wish That Faith shou5d make these hideous phantoms flee, 
you’d let me know, for I am sure she would make And Ieave no night hencefor th on earth to me. 
Smith a good wife, though she may not be quite as 
young as he would like, hut still, if she’s good-look- Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker 
ing—when I knew her, she was handsome—I think SERMONS, 
he would be willing to take her; and as Smith is my . “ ’ 
next neighbor, she can then see if all I say ain’t tT ,UvE yon ever been in the woods at nightfall? 
true. As soon as you let me know I’ll break the J?*™ y °“ e ™ r ed the dawnin K of day? or 
matter to him, before he gets after any of the girls, 1 t0 th , e babbllDg of the brook where the 
as that might be in the way. 4 f ? rve v nt rays of mid ‘ day couId not reach J inder 
Yours to command, John Plowhandlk. th f 9had ° W f the / oods? or hushed the soul to a 
solemn quiet amidst the sublimity of the storm?— 
Remarks.—V fe think friend Plowhanule is or looked upon the rainbow? or walked amongthe 
rather premature in assuming that Mrs. Churn- flowers? or seen the stars at midnight? or the moon 
dasher is a widow, albeit Susan’s inference in the which goes her quiet rounds in beauty? Have 
matter seems reasonable. But, whether wife or they not all voices divine? Yea, the very stones 
widow, we assure John that she is abundantly able have tongues wherewith they preach to us. 
to define her position, and make her own matches, We are not dependent on a Beecher or a SruR- 
as he will probably find to his entire satisfaction, gkon for eloquence. There is a sermon written 
We greatly doubt as to the former acquaintance of on the hillside—a sermon thundered from the 
Mr. P. and Mrs. C., and entirely ignore the story storm-cloud—one spoken by tho water—one whis- 
ahout aquatic perambulations. 
pered by the flowers. It is not on one day in 
vantages thereof, a given point therein; required that he is thoroughly contemptible — a sort of in ®Y are wia ows men mey put tneir own name, 
from the subject, beauty, to draw inferences, to specimen of the life hardly worth thinking about “ How has she signed it, then?” 
show the deleterious effects of it, sufficient to con- —a nutshell with the kernel withered up—a hand- “ Mrs ’ JaNK Chubndashkb -” 
vince homely girls it is not worth sighing for. ful of foam drifting over the wine of life, some- “ Poor Hung,” says I, “ it s too bad for such a 
Firstly, if beauty is a blessing, why are not the «Ung not altogether unpleasant to the fancy, but niCe w Zl “ 
possessors of it happy, as the very idea of a bless- 110 ®&rthly u se. A woman of sense would as j ueIL 8pea ° „ ° U er ‘ 1S W1 e 0 
ing is enough to insure happiness? And if the soon put to sea in a man-of-war made of shingles e01 l, ea ueai u P on a Y® ai * 
possessors of it are not happy, but exactly the con- or take U P her residence in a card-house, as dream ‘ ^ p a ’ bofl j ca | 1 yOU ’ says SuSAN > and ° n she 
trary, then it is not a blessing, but a curse. Vanity of attaching herself to a lady-killer. started for the ouse. 
always attends heant.y and makes itself visible in “Women worth the name are seldom deceived , 1 kept 011 ,D « COrn ’ aad as th ? ker f ls kept 
display of affectation; for affectation is the natural into thinking our lady’s man the choicest speci- dr °PI jmg int0 t] ie measure, the ideas kept dropping 
consequence of vanity. Nowit has been shown men of his sex. Whatever their ignorance may iutom yneac. 
by a preceding proposition that the advantages be, womanly intuition must tell them that the men recognizes an old acquaintance. 
arising from the possession of beauty are not snffi- wko Hve for great objects, and whose spirits are so I kept saying over the Dame, and it kinder sound- 
cient to counteract the disadvantages of affecta- firmly knit that they are able to encounter the ed familiar, and all at once it popped into my mind 
tion, for where we are attracted by beauty, we are storms of life—men whose depth and warmth of who she was. ’Twas just as clear as the holes in a 
disgusted by affectation. The resemblance is very feeling resemble the powerful current of a mighty skimmer. She was my little friend, Polly Kream, 
much like that of the rose and the thorn. Affecta- r5ver > an< ! n °t the bubbles on its surface, who, if who used to go to school with me when we were 
tion shows that the individual is conscious of her tbe ^ * ove ’ are never smitten by mere beauty of little children at Kowton. Many’s the time we’ve 
charms while the eyes of every discerning person fe rm or features — that these men are far more played together in the brook that ran close by the 
divests her of them. worthy even of occupying their thoughts in idle school-house,digginglittlechannelsinthegravel- 
When we see a young and beautiful girl affecting moments than the f °P 8 and men about town with ly bed for the water to run. She would always 
melody of voice, harmony of speech, and assum- wbose att entions they amuse themselves. If we wade into deeper water than I dared too—we were 
ing all the airs and importance of a’person twice were t0 tdl him this ’ he would 0D,y laugh l he has both bare foot then — I could not then tell the rea- 
her age, we cannot (wise and experienced as we n ° pride about him ’ althougk ful1 of van %; and son of it. But now, if I was put hack again, I 
are) point out the angle where beauty assumes the Xt matters not to him wbat we ma Y broadly affirm could guess, for she had the prettiest little foot and 
place of deformity, though, by the way we can ° r qUiGtly insiuuate ’ ankle up to her knees (a pretty long ankle, Mr. RJ 
1 . .. . ® J HRnff. fmil dsliVitte llmnirl. lw> i- .f_#... 
ankle up to her knees ( a pretty long ankle, Mr. P.J 
solve several intricate and difficult matters as thia - “ S ° ft and delicate thougli he be, he is as imper- of any of us children, that used to wade and splash 
TtoQntTT tbon io TiAf «... _• „ . -, vious to ridicule as a hod-carrier, and as regard- about in the brook. Do we grow wiser as we grow 
" , ’ , . ppiness oi less of honest contempt as a city alderman. Were older, or only more selfish and uncharitable? But 
their hos^m which is doubtless oft-times 8 the d™ *•* y ° U t0 hand him tWS article ’ be would tak e it to that was a great while ago,—and as I left that re- 
tive cause of their destrnntiori Be i pnmi ‘ some social party, and read it aloud in the most gion quite young, the memory of my mates became 
Ls Lans Lises cafe f’T Bcauty by n “ mer - mellifluous voice, as a homage to his own attrac- dim. I remember now to have heard that she mar- 
°: ,T CaUS6S f care ’ wbicb c °™ d es the heart, tions.” ried int0 rather a noted family, and had not been 
steals the lustre from the eyes, the rose from the -_ “ ml . „ , . 
cheek, the ruby from the lips, the vivacity of the EDUCATION OF YOUNG LADIES inppy. e hurndashers nevei la avtiygoo 
countenance, the mildness of the temper and ^DiLb. reputation for peace. Poor thing, no wonder she d 
leaves naught but dullness and indifference, until Where are your daughters from six to sixteen? Ilke t0 g ? in ,° a borne where the man and wile 
Thinks I, it’s best to go in and talk with mother; 
steals the lustre from the eyes, the rose from the _~_ ‘ lied int ° rp rat ^ 1 ' a n0ted family ’ and bad not been 
cheek, the ruby from the lips, the vivacity of the EDUCATION OF YOUNG LADIES ia PPy- ‘ e hurndashers nevei la aveiygood 
countenance, the mildness of the temper and —_ ^DiLb. reputation for peace. Poor thing, no wonder she d 
leaves naught but dullness and indifference, until Where are your daughters from six to sixteen? llke to g ? in ^° a bome wbere tbe man and wife 
the fair creature who smiled on every one, and on Pent U P in unventilated school-rooms—their minds were 6atlslie wlt 1 eac 0 ier * 
whom every one smiled, is laid in the cold and si- surcharged with studies—the light trash of the day leaves the corn. 
lent tomb, and soon forgotten by those who once floating through their giddy heads—stimulating to Thinks I, it’s best to go in and talk with mother; 
thought it happiness to gaze on her lovely counte- mental and physical precocity—their tongues besides I had a kind of inside laugh, to think any 
nance and drink in her enrapturing smile. From taught to lisp a little German or French of no com- body should take notice enough of me to mention 
this, then, it is evident that beauty is a curse, rather parative use to them—to say nothing of their want my name, and to quote my writings. Golly! says I 
than a blessing. of exercise, prone position, confined muscles and to myself, may he they’ll bring in my says as they do 
Again, a lady possessed of beauty, is often too ill adapted apparel, still more obnoxious to health. Webster, or Shakspeare. Won’t that be fame- 
apt to rely upon it as a passport through the world We would be the first to urge a complete educa- and between you and I, Colonel, I don’t think now 
and thus neglect the improvement and education tion, but never at the expense of physical develop- I skaH stop at Supervisor. Who knows but I’ll get 
of her mind which is of far greater importance. A ment and health. These are so imperfectly attended a handle to my name that will do to talk about I 
mind destitute of all original knowledge forms such to that when school days are over, and the subject don’t refer to the military. We shall see. 
disagreeable contrast with the beauty of the face, of marriage is alluded to, the exclamation on all When I got into the house Susan had read it all 
that disgust is formed in the minds of those who, hands is—and with a little more emphasis by those over to mother. I made as though I’de come in 
otherwise, would admire. A wise man being asked older than herself—why she is too young — her for a drink of water, and I thought she would 
“ why the homely ladies were well-informed, learn- health is delicate—has neuralgia—spine complaint, speak about it, but she had set down to rest, with 
ed and agreeable, while beautiful ones were exact- and knows nothing of house-keeping. her stocking-basket on one side of her and was 
ly the reverse,” answered that “ the homely ones We do not stand here to criticise present habits, threading her needle to begin darning stockings, 
were conscious of their inability to please by their or systems of education, or devise better, but we Time never gets the start of her, only when she’s 
personal attractions, therefore, they endeavored to have presented to you a young graduate to show asleep or at meeting. Her motto has always been, 
acquire those accomplishments of the mind which you how imperfectly she is prepared to he a help- “ Save tbe minutes.” I’m naturally, if I have any 
cannot fail to please let them he where they will; mate meet for a young man desirous of early estah- fault > a little ir m lined t0 be slack, to set down and 
while, on the contrary, the beauties thinking that lishing a home for future enjoyment. With all her whittle a shingle when I might be splitting wood, 
their beauty is sufficient to carry them to the high- education and accomplishments, her ignorance and Bat example has had a wonderful effect, you may 
est stations and bring crowds of the rich and hon- incapacity to fill her new sphere will be a constant depend- 1 have learned to look out for the minutes, 
ored at their feet, thus neglect the cultivation of their source of regret to herself and husband. We frill and it;8 wonderful how much can be accomplished 
minds which would he of far more use to them than merely add, that had one-half of these ten years in savin g them. There’s farmer Slack, who 
the beauty of the Houries themselves.” Personal at- been devoted exclusively to mental endowments, has got just one of the best pieces of land about 
tractions will wear away, the teeth will decay, the while the other half included other objects prepar- bere, hut the bushes are all about his lots, and his 
eyes grow dim, and, oh, shocking to relate, she who ing for the great duties of life and living, her edu- fences are bad > aud be ’ 8 110 fruit trees, nor garden, 
was once so beautiful and admired, and to whom cation would have been more complete in the because he’s so drove with work. Y^et, he spends 
hundreds have stooped to do homage, is now an aggregate—the intellectual developments and ac- an hour or two. either at the post-office or tavern, 
old, decrepid woman. And those curls, yes, those quirements more moral and useful.— Dr. Kelley. ever Y da y> and tbinks its nothing. If he would 
once glossy ringlets which shone with richest oils___ follow mother’s advice, and “ save the minutes,” he 
— By the way, if John quotes his “better half” se ven only we can catch the “droppings of the 
correctly, she is a wise philosopher, and under- Great Sanctuary;” there is not an hour in time 
stands husband nature thoroughly. With such a when the Most High God is silent. And there is 
wife he ought to be a happy, contented man, and no choice of seats in His temple. It is open alike 
(though we presume Mrs. I’, will render him worthy aP > r ’ch and poor, old and young, bond and free, 
of a higher position than Supervisor,) we trust he Stand on the bauk of that placid lake; who can 
will not be too aspiring. Let those accept office, speak as that speaks to thee? Haik! the wind 
and leave home to attend to public affairs, who are strikes its thunder-harp of pines. Is thy soul bleep- 
not blessed with sugared peace and qniet at their mg, that thou dost not hear? Wake—it is the 
own firesides. What say to that, friend P?—Ed. sleep of thy higher life. It is not needful that we 
--wait for the Sabbath day, dress ourselves in holiday 
Written for Moores Rnrai New-Yorker. attiie, and enter these “temples made with hands,’' 
HAPPINESS. to bear ^ 0D ' His glory, His love and His power 
_ ’ la the opening petals of this modest flower is a ser- 
Is happiness a reality—a something which may mon fe r us - Sit in its green chalice, with its dew- 
be found here on earth—or is it a phantom, an d ipP ed Lps lifted to the kisses of the pure, warm 
ignis fatuus, sent to mock us, receding and vanish- a5r > the God-gifted preacher tells us of humility 
ing whenever we approach and fancy it within our and chastity. There, in its enduring strength, 
grasp? Is it because we will not be happy, are stands the mountain, a bold rehuker of our foolish 
blind, wilful and perverse, that we are wretched, pride and vaunted greatness, saying:—“Behold thy 
doleful, discouraged? Why is not every human littleness, 0! man, in that, being endowed with a 
face, if not wreathed in smiles, beaming with peace, 80u l immortal, thou hast debased thyself lower 
patience, contentment? Surely we are not placed than the dust, by thy vanity, thy deceitfulness, and 
here on earth, for the express purpose of making tb >’ self-righteous heart.” There hangs the storm- 
each other miserable—to grow weary of care, toil, cloud. 'W hat a sermon in that! Plash after flash 
of life even—to fade and decay, linger and die, and comes out of its terrible blackness, and peal on peal 
be forgotten? Such was not the design of a makes the whole earth tremble. Such a sermon as 
beneficent Creator, in placing us in a world, lovely, ^ b is is a very forcible exponent of God’s eternal 
beautiful aud glorious in itself. We were not made i usBc e, power and glory. 
to torture, or oppress, or neglect; but that we Wait not for the Sabbath. If at any hour thou 
might comfort, assist, love and cherish one anothen bas t yearnings after thy Lord, though it be upon a 
and make life beautiful and desirable. week-day, at early dawn, or in the still hours of 
Alas, that so many hearts are full of bad, selfish B5g b*> S° to him. Thou wilt always find himajust 
passions, that they cast a shadow over even the ^ 0D ’ bu t a good Father. Take every lesson he has 
faces and hearts of those who love peace, kindness, put on or wa ve, or stone, home to thy heart, 
and would, if permitted, scatter life’s path, with and ^ b e sermons he whispers on the gentle zephyr 
sunshine, fragrance, beauty! The strong and pow- or thunders from the sky, will show thee what is elo- 
erful, who live and labor only for the accumulation 1 ueuc e. a K< 
of gain, fixing their eyes on some distant coveted ote 8<>. Y -. t858. 
object, rush on, impatient at every obstacle, frown- **" —- 
ing and scattering harsh words, heedless of every HUMILITY. 
thing. 0, how many lovely flowers, and rare, - 
priceless gems, they overlook, and crush, and de- ou ' ; a broken heart that all truly holy 
Otego, N. Y., 1858. 
an hour or two, either at the post-office or tavern, 
every day, and thinks its nothing. If he would 
follow mother’s advice, and “ save the minutes,” he 
and perfumeries, have all disappeared and given A babe is a mother’s anchor. She cannot go far could 800n sing a new 8ong ’ 
place to grey hair. Again, love is never pure ex- from her moorings. And yet a true mother never mrs. plowhandle’s experience. 
cept when founded on esteem. Hence it is proved lives so little in the present as when by the side of “Well,” says I, “have you read the Rural, 
that beauty ^disadvantageous, Quod erat demon- the cradle. Her thoughts follow the imagined fu- mother?” 
stratum. , ture 0 f jj er c pi]d. That babe is the boldest of “Oh, yes, John, Susan has read that piece about 
Corollary 1st. Therefore, all homely damsels pilots and guides her fearless thoughts down us.” 
who have heretofore been sighing for beauty which through scenes of coming years. The old ark That “Oh, yes, JonN,” sounded just as sweetly, 
you cannot obtain, now dry your eyes and store never made such a voyage as the cradle daily makes, and as pleasantly, as it did thirty years ago, when 
ing and scattering harsh words, heedless of every HUMILITY. 
thing. 0, how many lovely flowers, and rare, -- 
priceless gems, they overlook, and crush, and de- out a broken heart that all truly holy 
stroy, as they stride on, leaving all that is really auctions do flow. Christian affections are like 
good and valuable, far behind them, among the lost ^ ar Y 8 precious ointment that she poured on 
hours and years that can never be restored! And Christ s head, that filled the house with a sweet 
instead of finding themselves in old age, in a pleas- odor - That was poured out of an alabaster box; so 
ant valley, surrounded with friends, children, and 8 rac i° us affections flow out of a broken heart— 
loving hearts and handp, a barren desert stretches ^ rac ' ous affections are also like those of Mary 
before them. Broken-hearted wives and husbands ^ a 8 da fe ne > who also poured precious ointment on 
are far back in their premature graves—children Christ, out of an alabaster broken box, annointed 
are alienated, or gone, and the lamp of life dies therewith the feet of Jesus, when she had washed 
out amid vain regrets and a troubled conscience! them with her tears, and wiped them with the hair 
Why do we so? Friends, fellow-voyagers on the ber head. All gracious affections, that are a 
great ocean of life, let us be wise in time. Gather 8v ' ree t odor to Christ, and that fill the soul of a 
the jewels in your every-day path, sustain the weak, Christian with an heavenly sweetness and fra- 
cheer the desponding, assist the struggling poor, f? ra ncy, are broken-hearted love. The desires of the 
and speak gently to the little ones—the children— saints, however earnest, are humble desires; their 
they whose innocence and love, redeem the world bope is humble; and their joy, even when it is un- 
from utter degradation. And if not happiness,yet 8 P ea kable and full of glory, is an humble, broken- 
the peace of a clear conscience will illumine our Parted joy, and leaves the Christian more poor in 
countenances and brighten the dark valley of the 8 P 5 "fr> and m ore like a little child, and more dia- 
shadow of Death, whose gates, sooner or later, will P osed a universal lowliness of behavior.— Ed- 
surely open, and closing upon us, we can never re- ,varr - s on ^ le Affections. 
turn to redeem a mis-spent, wasted life. n. 
—If the architect of a house had one plan, and 
Great Ideas and Small Duties. — A soul oc- * be contractor had another, what conflicts would 
cupied with great ideas best performs small duties. tb ere be! How many walls would have to come 
The divinest views of life penetrate most clearly do ' vn > h°'' v many doors and windows would need 
into the meanest emergencies. So far from petty f° be altered before the two could harmonize!— 
principles being best proportioned to petty trials, * be building of life, God is the architect, and 
heavenly spirit taking up its abode with us can man is the contractor. God ha3 one plan and man 
alone sustain well the daily toils, and tranquillity b as another. Is it strange that there are clashings 
pass the humiliations of our condition. Even in and collisions? 
intellectual culture, the ripest knowledge is the 
best qualified to instruct the most complete ig- Carnal Enmity. —As it was the spirit of the 
norance. So the trivial services of social life are world that nailed our blessed Lord to the cross, bo 
the best performed, and the lesser particles of do- every man that has the spirit of Christ, every man 
mestic happiness are most skillfully organized by that opposes the world as he did, will certainly be 
the deepest and fairest heart.— Miss Marlineau. crucified by the world some way or other.— Law. 
