MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
JULY 31. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
OUR LOST MOTHER’S ROSE. 
Tiikrk's a white rose on the little hush 
That clings upon our garden fence ; 
Sweetly it greets the early morn, 
Pure as the light its snowy form ; 
Eden had ne’er a fairer flower 
Enshrined in angel-tended hower. 
There’s a larch-tree on yon rising knoll, 
That stands beside a new-made grave ; 
Tenderly its branches sigh, 
Wailing for the sleeper nigh, 
Chanting sweet hymns, that softly steal, 
To soothe the wounds they cannot heal. 
O’er our mother’s grave the larch-tree droops, 
Its softly stealing hymns, her dirge ; 
And its leaves, that now—a sad-toned lyre— 
Court the soft breeze its notes t’ inspire, 
Soon, emblem of all earthly trust, 
Stricken, shall mingle with her dust. 
But the rose she planted and loved so well 
Can ne'er bloom in the years to come ; 
But the flower, to those she has left shall seem 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
LIFE’S GOLDEN AGE. 
When Youth o'er our path throws her radiant light, 
And Hope wreathes the future with flowers, 
Like a gift, with her love, from beyond the dark stream— are best calculated to develop your powers in a 
FARMERS’ DAUGHTERS. /(* 1t>v YY'Y f 4 rfN VYAft-YV we can trace the course of the brook along its bor- 
- 'IdyJWPJUUy £*,/vy,WI I /V/Ia IlI<► der by its fringe of alders and willows, and back of 
Miss L. Virginia Smith, that was-Mrs. French 'CJO * all, is the Bioping pasture lot, on the summit of 
that is,— the editress of the Southern Homestead, -—- which we are stationed. Thanks to the original 
gives the following excellent advice to farmers Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. occupant, its surface is not entirely denude^ of 
daughters. Although intended for rural districts, LIFE’S GOLDEN AGE. trees; beneath one of them, a majestic cim the 
it is applicable to young ladies whose fathers are - cattle are reclining, a group for a. painter. Oppo- 
not farmers: When Youth o'er our path throws her radiant light, site the homestead, the land rises gradually to a 
A young girl who happens to be the daugh- And IIo P e y reathes the with flowers, low blufT, crowned also by its forest, through the 
ter of a real, genuine farmer, should consider That brighten with gladness the hours • openings of which we can Bee the blue of the lake 
herself particularly fortunate. Her position is Each fa ncy-wronght vision of happiness true, ~ and 80 blu(; is and so blue the sky, that it 
one which contains all the elements which go Each anticipation so bright, seems as if we could sail away, right in among the 
to make up a lofty character; it is calculated Floats over the soul like the stars o’er the blue clouds. Far to the left, t e indistinct line of va- 
to bring out all the energies, to develop all the Ocean, on midsummer’s night. pory blue hills reminds me of the distant view of 
natural gifts, and in time, with proper guides, Each smile of affection that beams on the brow, tbe Delectable Mountains, had by Runyan's Pil- 
to make her one of the greatest women in the Or steals like a mist from the eye, grim — while over and above all, through the blue 
world. If there be in life one situation above Illumines the heart like the colors that glow, dome sail huge masses of snow-white clouds, the 
all others, where the daughter may grow up health- At eve ’ on . tbe sun-lighted sky. argosies of heaven, which, without helm or rud- 
ful, beautiful, useful, graceful, intelligent, and pure ' b l marm “ nn * fitl " eam > the rose-shaded bower, der, move on in their noiseless course, and disap- 
that situation I believe to be as one of the house- Wake joy in the s oul with a magical power, pCar - 
hold band, in the home of the honest and indepen- Such as Age bent with care never knew. There is, to me, an unalloyed pleasure in thus 
dent farmer or planter. I would say to young girls 0h , Earth seemg afi gay aR the tints of the bow gating upon the grand pictures spread before me, 
whose lines have fallen in such “ pleasant places,” That with glory encircles the sky, whlch 1 do not feel when gazing npon the most 
do not undervalue youi peculiar advantages. Y ou when Youth bids the music of happiness flow, elaborate works of art. Every season opens to me 
are the “highly favored among women.’’ The cir- From bosoms with hope beating high ; rare port-folios, such as no painter would dare ven- 
cumstances in which you are placed, are such as Then friendship doth twine round the chords of the heart ture to rival. Winter’s sometime dreary pictures 
A young girl who happens to be the daugh- AUU ,Jupe wreiune8 
. - , ,. Each joy lends a charm to the scenes of delight, 
ter of a real, genuine farmer, should consider That b R ghten with gladnesa the honrs 8 
herself particularly fortunate. Her position is Each fancy-wronght vision of happiness true, 
one which contains all the elements which go Each anticipation so bright, 
to make up a lofty character; it is calculated Floats over the soul like the stars o’er the blue 
to bring out all the energies, to develop all the G ? Ocean, on midsummer’s night, 
natural gifts, and in time, with proper guides, Each smile of affection that beams on the brow, 
to make her one of the greatest women in the Or steals like a mist from the eye, 
world. If there be in life one situation above Illumines the heart like the colors that glow, 
all others, where the daughter may grow up health- At eve ’ on tbe Bun ‘ li 8 hbed sky. 
ful, beautiful, useful, graceful, intelligent, and pure, b °™’ 
that situation I believe to be as one of the house- WaUe joy in the “ ou i with a magical power, 
hold band, in the home of the honest and indepen- Such as Age bent with care never knew, 
dent farmer or planter. I would say to yount? cirls ^ f ^ J 
whose lines have fallen in such “ pleasant places,” Tbat with glory en 8 ir 7 cleB the gkyj 
do not undervalue youi peculiar advantages. You When Youth bids the music of happiness flow, 
are the “ highly favored among women.” The cir- From bosoms with hope beating high ; 
Like a kind message sent from her mansion in Heaven, 
To comfort the hearts her departure hath riven ; 
And its fragrance sweet, like an angel’s breath, 
Like her spirit pure, like her smile in death, 
On the dew of the morning can nerer arise, 
But to seem like her voice—“ Let us meet in the skies.” 
Dalton, N. H., July, 1858. * # * 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
TRAINING CHILDREN. 
The links of that bright golden chain, 
threefold form; physically, mentally and morally. Whose mystical clasp no rude passion may part 
I would have you value your advantages, improve Til1 DeaGi break its circle in twain, 
every one of them to the utmost, and place a prop- Oft, too, doth wild fancy build castles in air, 
er estimate upon yourselves. You have every op- And k iId w ‘th reality’s ray; 
porlunity to make yourselves noble, beautiful, in- Wbicb > like tbe gay bubble, when waxing most fair, 
tellectual and useful women; do this then, and each Must fade from the vis ' on awa y 5 
in her own person “ assert the dignity of labor.” And “ , t! “ e wafta us °" t0 . meridian ti<ie > 
Oft, too, doth wild fancy build castles in air, 
And gild with reality’s ray ; 
llectual and useful women; do this then, and each Must fade from the vision awa J 5 
her own person “ assert the dignity of labor.” And “ , t! “ e wafts " 8 °" R “ eridian tide > 
^ , x , , . ° / And dull cares the attention engage. 
Consult your parents, and form for yourself a ort backward our though(g with “ n 8 ; apture win glide 
TRAINING CHILDREN, purpose in life. They place before your brother To the pleasures of Life’s golden age. 
- some aim, some standard, some goal which his And memory’s music will breathe o’er the soul 
“ Train up a child in the way he should go, and when exertions are to reach, why not then give you Its richest and holiest strain, 
i is old he will never depart from it." “something to live for” also? Why should you As the scenes of our youth to the fancy unroll, 
he 18 old he will never depart from it.” “aomething to live for w also? Why should you 
In looking through this corner of the world, and be the only cypher in the family ? When you have 
measuring children and people generally, (by my “ fini 8 he d” school, don’t for one moment, believe 
own standard of perfection, of course,) I often that you are “educated.” Don’t “dress up” in 
meet with those who seem not to have been your aix flounces, etc, and sit down on the parlor 
< tramed up m the way they should go,” or, if they Hof% waiting for that young clerk at „ Ketchum & 
have, the old proverb is untrue, for they certainly Cheatem’s” to “call round.” No; let him show off 
have “ departed” from good behavior. Therefore, hiB i aC es, embroideries, etc, etc, and wear them too, 
for the benefit of anybody who can profit there- for all you care about it. Remember, that “let 
And we mingle with loved ones again. 
Somerset, N. Y., 1858. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
FROM UNDER THE TREES. 
The “Butternuts,” 1858. 
from, I make the followintr remarks relative to the ".i, I~ ~~ --’ •'““ u Dear Rural Happy is the man, in this advanced poetl 7 (?) as follows: wnere me uirmon oi me ana its busycaresare not 
proper “ training” of children others do as they will, as for you, you have some- and advancing age, who can afford time to indulge 0h 1 the earth, the earth, is beautiful, and everv, every allowed to enter—where there is not the discord 
P First, Cryineia one of the most important noints else to d ° than to 81 * down, fold your white in fen occasional release frpm the galling bonds of where - of strife, nor the harsh dissonance of angry voices, 
in their d^cipfine. hand8 > and ™\ tohc “ d ; You have an influ- servitude to self-interest-who can throw off the iron Upon the glittering waters, and in the shimmering air, The laborer, who has toiled through the week, 
cds til. Xrstsjf !ea z ‘ or , w r ij ,m r ,ion , >nd co fora i “ , ° t,,<! -«r "•* ,na ‘ ,k " ,i b "“ r ^ r 1 “ ,hr °" 8, ‘ ionf! ' ^ 
organs, m-cclcM the teeper, and imparls a most L forect toursclf for ,o(Ti.vc a w f ”Vl mlrammoM w, m.d to .olden eWrs, « oar Oo» for Ho l > a ' Is Saturday night as a welcome deliverer, who 
beautiful expression to the countenance, especial. Syamd heaLhT V ^llrded , iZ Z , , r° J ,1>rea ““» re Wm-bappy be, „ g J - G °”’ "* come, to set the captive free-who remove, the 
ly while the child is giving hi. undivided atten- cated.Ldan immortal sonl « he saved f 1, no" vottd'^.“^Xting^mteStte wefh ™" <h. -«",<>» .«rt„,l. b..u,ifu,,„o hr. „v.^f. lr , ? e " ont^'LTsaSh t0 ‘'' a “ d b,i ° 8 ' h,m ' he 
teach yonrehild ““g^en’a/cctior- ^ » f a ba ” clia “ l «''«»■-”"» **- "Pen a ^ ‘he 
This can be done at an’carlv imriod and thn y g x b f 1 ' th , ’ . you wl11 find evei Y wavID g gram-held, without intruding speculations mood J classics, or striving to wind through the intricate 
are lighted Ob how brilliantly, by the wood-fires Thinned by time, and bleached by cares ; 
upon the hearth, (I speak of those fortunate re- Joy’s full cup is drained low, 
gions, where the old fashioned fire-place is notob- Sorrows’ waves have ceased to flow ; 
solete, and where an “ improved air tight” shrouds Death removes sin’s cankering rust, 
not the cheerful blaze in its grim confinement) Age yields gladly—“Dust to Dust.” 
And the Spring time pictures—are they not beau- But there hastenetk an hour, 
tiful? when each tree and shrub assumes the livery When grim Death shall lose his power; 
of the opening season, when the cowslip blooms in God ’ 8 laHt trum P the earth shall shake, 
the meadow and the roses and lilacs in the door- Buried nations shall awake ; 
yard; and the Summer exhibition of waving grain th ® gra . ve shaI1 yield itfi trust ’ 
I)ast unite with kindred Dust. 
fields and blossomy meadows —what Academy of Independence, N. Y., 1853. 
Design can design such pictures? Then the Au- ____ 
tumn, gorgeous in the beauties of decaying nature, r « . „ , „ _ . 
.... , „ . . J > Written for Moore's Rural New- Yorkor, 
with its clear starry nights, and Aurora Borealian SATURDAY NTOHT 
displays, again to give place to the drifting snow- 
white scenesof Winter. Thus the ceaseless rounds of There is rest in the very sound, repose for the 
the seasons, but add to our hoarded stores of pleas- worn and weary limbs, and quiet for the tired, 
ant memories, ’till our hearts seem overflowing troubled heart. Those little words bring to our 
with their fullness of gratitude, and we are to be minds a bright vision of home, where loving hearts 
pardoned if we spontaneously break forth into kind hands, and sunny, smiling faces greet us_ 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
DUST TO DUST. 
BT IDA FAIRFIELD. 
Wreathe the white buds round that face, 
With its soft, seraphic grace, 
Close the waxen lids, and press 
On the lips thy last caress ; 
Childhood, with its guileless trust, 
Hears the sentence—“ Dust to Dust.” 
Smoothe the tresses o’er her brow, 
What avails their richness now ? 
Fold the white hands on her breast 
O’er the fond heart soon at rest; 
Womanhood and Girlhood must 
Bear one impress—“ Dust to Dust." 
Power has written here a name, 
Arm of strength and heart of flame ; 
Manhood fallen, woe the day ! 
In thine anguish bend and pray ; 
Mighty, generous, fearless, just, 
Little boots it—“Dust to Dust.” 
Hoary are the scattered hairs, 
Thinned by time, and bleached by cares ; 
Joy’s full cup is drained low, 
Sorrows’ waves have ceased to flow ; 
Death removes sin’s cankering rust, 
Age yields gladly—“Dust to Dust.” 
But there hasteneth an hour, 
When grim Death shall lose his power; 
God’s last trump the earth shall shake, 
Buried nations shall awake ; 
Then the grave shall yield its trust, 
Dust unite with kindred Dust. 
Independence, N. Y., 1858. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
SATURDAY NIGHT. 
There is rest in the very sound, repose for the 
worn and weary limbs, and quiet for the tired, 
hails Saturday night as a welcome deliverer, who 
comes to set the captive free—who removes the 
hard yoke of unceasing toi), and brings him the 
lowing manner Whenevef remakesareanest t employed and ^every day too short for the as to the value of the harvested crop-who can Utters with sweUing accents, “Praise our God, for He is ^™ths of acience, or to pierce the hard nut 
affect not to hear it unttfhehM mieated^t^dozen accom P hahment of al yo r ur duties ' Y 0" ^ow look at a grove of timber, and not turn instinctively ffood.” shell of some difficult problem, greets Saturday 
times, more or les^ at o! before whteh Gme his pa ^ 7 7 * * ^ ^ f° f t0 Cal ° UlatC the am0Unt of Y **’ * -y beautiful, and life „ very fair with a welcome from the heart, for it brings 
tience will become exhausted-he will be some- nonHilvTrri tL^Wrn, ec ^ omy - the da,ry - the clear staff in some venerable oak or pine, and to Tho’ o’er our pathway oftentimes is many a cloud of care; a respite from the vigorous exercise of bard think- 
what angered at vour want of attention and in pou ] try ' yard ’ the 8toreroom ' the sewin ff basket, the whose mind the view of a glittering sheet of water is But the clouds of care will vanish, before the radiant in ff» a rest from mental labor,—when the strug- 
nine cases out of ten he will vociCte vigoJously 5 ^ 7 ^7 ^7 ^ immediately 8U8 * estive of ^Privileges. «<>od ling thoughts lie quietly down and gather strength 
After he has cried a sufficient length of time you S * 77 h f f ^ pre8id ® s 5 but whlle But all this is introduction. I want to tell you, ai f 1 and . Dope ’ aa blest we sin «’ “ 1>raise onr God > for tbe coming week. Thoughts, like limbs, when 
can with propriety grant his reuuest. Another you can ^ or bei ’P lea se don t neglect Pa- Dear Rural, of the country in these sultry July .. °. r 1S 8 °° overtaxed need a little rest to strengthen them, 
mode of producing the same result When your ^ N ° w l8e ® y°osmBe incredulously, saying to days. Oh! these long, sunshiney summer hours! 1}utthe lon K aa™™ 61, afternoon draws to a close The mariner on the wide waters sees, away in 
child asks for anvthinc sav “Yus dear y ° Ur n * CG lttle BG ^ b Y wbat m fbe world how our whole being is infused by their blessed in- tbe forest musicians are about giving the “ clos- the future, a Saturday night—a harbor where his 
C °°‘ d ,d ° f ° r Ptpi? ” 0h! a * reat -i“Hfjon jucnco; and Hi, da, is the nleln«stSS/ ! “ gI,,ece '” Ths depthsof the wood assumoasom- ve«a e l .ball anchor, and .Lome, not on the peril- 
wliat lie wanted until he has nsl-cd n ^ will assume the responsibility. Besides preparing are pleasant The golden July sun is moving ma- bre > alm °st a gloomy hue — the sun is rapidly de- ous ocean, where the sea monsters are no longer 
again and vou have tormented liim fo/a^Wst 80me refie8 bing delicacy when he comes in, as he jestically over the heavens, gilding every object B c endin K th e radiant west, to cool its chariot axles companions, but the warm hearts and smiling 
half an hour with “Yes darling mother will in n exi)resseB lt ’ “ hun g r y as a hawk,” or singing him with splendor, and rapidly maturing the acres of ^ tbe de P tbs of azure—the shadow of the hill en- faces of family and friends. ’Tis the goal whence 
minute” Bv this time the ehib’l will .mini’ & 8weet BOng wben bis mind ig °^ e r-tasked; you waving grain in the valley. I am lying beneath 8brouds tbe whole of the valley farm save a slight all his hopes, and anticipations, and loves are 
voice as to make it command attention Teach canta \ witbb ! ra ’ andlearn of him about his fields, the spreading houghs of a butternut, nay, of the tip ° f g ° f 1 , d Upon the '°P m0Bt brancbeB of tbe ma - tending-where he knows that hallowed rest the 
him that he Tan have “Xt even h^s father s 7 ’ n f F mldlng 8 ~y° u can re ad to him butternut, on the borders of the old woods that p,eS 1D 7 d ? or f rd ' Away down the valley 1 ^ome brings will be his, and tbe deep rolling 
razor or tlm lookinglriass^bywidng^he reauired hls agncuRural books and papers, (for there is a crown the summit of the hill-side pasture. It is , can 8CC the Bluminated windows of some quiet waves shall toss his barque no more, 
length of time for if When he wks foXmSn* g ° W ° and thUS indeed a monarch ’ where al/ are Pncces, and is ^^bouse, and the white sails of a vessel upon The soldier on the battlefield, looks forward to 
that you do not wish him to roy'GKfownnv your own mind, while adding also to his known to every school-boy in the neighborhood.- the lake shining ,n his farewell beams. But the a Saturday night, when the din of war shall be 
can’t have it” Then if his previous’training hw kn °' vdedge ' Suppose then, that some day he is The sunlight glistens on its rugged trunk and west is one gorgeous mass of light and shadow— hushed, the bright sword sheathed, and the bullet 
been proper he will scream bewitchingly and 7 ^ ° °“ 1 “ porta “ t Business, though it is in flecks the turf beneath it with waving patches of tlj ere are all our dreams of fairy land, drawn in shall rest from its murderous flight—when human 
stamp his pretty feet in sublime rage till the whole 10 bu ^y 0 harvesting;” he quietly takes his light and shade. What a glorious spot is that old more brilliant colorsHhan our youthful imagination blood has ceased to flow, leaving its dark stain 
house, from cellar to garret, vibrates with his mu fXiV * carB ’ aad “ 8 ° es on bis way rejoicing.” tree for the birds! There is a plump robin, even ® ver ca ed ltB aid ; Tbei ' e are all the pictures upon this bright green earth—when human hearts 
7A7'7 Vf y0U U bUt h ° W iQ the now > Perched upon the top-most twig, singing, as on- bat we used to behold in the glowing coals, thro’ shall no longer break for the loved and lost-when 
exploded by the multiplicity o^ornamentTl notes world dld 3™ town, this is 3; our busiest ly a robin and as a any “Prima Donna”the long winter evenings of the past, reproduced he shall have gone home to the bosom of bis 
you must grant his requcsUXtew™ mil i r wn l S .. m ° W ““ 8m . ileS ’ a deep b «t there is, methinks, a melancholy quaver in the “***>“ brilliancy-towering castles, frowning family, and strife is known no more. 
Second, Whip him. “Spare the rod and spoil lg i 7 e V n hl . B W «e-grey eye’-—is it pride? song, not unlike the involuntary “ grace notes” in batUements from over which we were sure that And to the homeless ones, the wanderers, though 
the child.” Give him a good, sound thrashing ° f 77 willXnri Xwu ‘ Yes sir ’ J* iB ~ but “ auld lang syne” as sung by an aged grandmother, we could see into Heaven-blood-red banners, Saturday night may come with repose for the 
periodically—say once a week—but be sure that T “ d t0 tbat - °b- wouldn t you who, as she sings, recalls to mind, the youthful doatlD g pennons coral groves, and huge towering weary limbs from labor, where is the home-rest, 
you threaten to whip him at least a dozen times *J° ry “ th 1 M '°".. v voices that joined with her in that good old tune- Jce-mountains, all mingled and blended in strange the heart-rest for the homeless? Oh! there is a 
everyday. Box his ears occasionally. It makes u- n ^ D ° ° ec ® 88lty ln the w ° rld for your voices that have long been hushed in death. So, be auty, like the gathered fragments of ten thousand glorious Saturday night coming—a Saturday night 
his brain active; that is, it makes him think (if he /,1 b ° Ut a Daaridage ’ but—if Harry perchance, its thoughts,(can a robin think?) revert hba ^ tered rainbows, (I would here inform your when there shall be found no homeless ones, no 
don’t say it,) “ Old woman when I’m hi* enoueli T 10rnt0n ’ that inte b'K e nt, handsome, and success- to the past; what numerous familes have here for ^ eade [ 8 ’ Rear Rural, that it m not necessary to go wanderers—and in our visions of that night, when 
I’ll pay you for this.” Whlpnimr him when ho of-’ f “ y T g T”’ W , • keep ° n COmiDg t0 Consult tbe first time 8een the sunlight, and what numbers l°, Italy in ® rder , to 8ee brilliant sunsets or beauti- not the labor of the week, but the labor of life is 
fends you teaches him a very important lesson wv 1 ^ 77 ^ ° r * X “ alW0 , yS , COntriving of little brown and blue jackets have here flitted ful 8 ® enery >) and as I gaze, I almost imagine I can ended, we see our mother there, waiting the coming 
viz. to strike his little sister when she offends him’ by ^ h *?/’ t0 terminnte bis consultation with a away their brief minority, and have been launched Bee the gates of pearl, and through them the unre- of all the weary feet of her household. Oh! how 
for’his young mind reasons upon the matter ^ ank ’ a nde ’ WItb Rapa’s “ Mary’’-why from this old tree into the cold, hard world, where vealed Series of “the land beyond the river.” But she will welcome the tired spirits that have strayed 
thus:—“If father and mother whip me when' thru tben ’ you needn 1 be surprised, on some fine eve- sportsmen and cruel, Bbarp-eyed boys predominate. soont bey all fade away—castle and grove, battle- 8 o long to that reBt in the Father’s house—the 
think I’m naughty, I have a right to whip sister , n,n . g ’ t0 hear y ° urself ‘‘respectfully solicited” to But the birds are not the only inhabitants of the an d waving banner, dissolve, like “the base- rest that Heaven alone can give. Oh! blessed 
and my playmates when 7 know they are nauehtv ” !° becom8 Mra -Barry 1 hornton. Then I wish you butternut, or of the woods. What thriving fami- 688 fabr R ofa vision, and leave not a trace save thought —'tis rest evennow from weariness of labor, 
Children have a great desire to do as “bi<r folks” to yem .®“ ber that marriage is only a question of lies of squirrels—both black and grey—are chat- a brilliant ruddy glow, and an occasional floating and the glad sunshine beams on the darkened 
The student, who has been poring over the 
classics, or striving to wind through the intricate 
on whatever offends him is this-fwhieh rante 10 Recom e a wile, was once shot on the hill-top; hut alas for romance, vauc J> icj.cauiig 10 myseu us 1 move along 
taught him at an earlier ace tban'the forecoinc^ 7° to ° wel1 educated to fear tbe name o f the race of panthers is now extinct I close my the poet 8 thoughts and joyously responding to 
a ght him at an earl er age than the foregoing)— 0 ld “maid.” But if you love Harry, and your will eyes and listen. How that robin does Rimr_nn them in my own heart: 
when he happens to hurt himself with any of his is won , (which for his sake, poor fellow, I trust is wonder that “ as happy as a bird ” has beclme a -% heart, to-night 
playthings, take a whip and chastise said offending the case) then like an honest, dear little girl as you common expression for an unusual flow of good Runs over with its fullneaB of content, 
toy, severely, for being so naughty as to hurt are-having far too much respect for yourself to spirits. How 2 sum^ wir^weew And as I look out on the fragrant atari, 
muzzy’s pressus darlin.” This has a very beauti- “ flirt ”—sav—“ Y r es immediatelv — and Denver, „n w summer wina sweeps through And from the beauty of the night take in 
fying effect upon the mind of the child, and is also bless vou both. immCdiately and IIeaven be old aisles of the forest-can you find a spot in priceless portion^ ye t no more 
extremely soothing to his bodily pain. __ 4 ..^_ e C1 owded street where it blows as cool and fra- Than in the universe a grain of sand, 
Third, Scold him—scold him unmercifully at SISTERS AND MOTHERS grant? how the golden light of the Bun is subdued I feel His glory, who could make a world, 
least once an hour. Call him “ a dirty little pig” __ and 8oftened as passes through the thick screen Yet > in the lost de P ths of the wilderness 
—“ a vagabond”—“ a torment”—and all the little The se are ties which like the invisible strings of of Kreen leaves—is it not more beautiful than the Leave not a flower ini P erfect - 
hard names you can think of. It gives him a very conscien ce, bind man to the world of kindly affec- tinted Hght tbat streams through the most gor- Charlotte, Monroe Co., N. Y., 1858. j. b. s. 
exalted opinion of your true dignity of character, tions ’ and are the last things forgotton when one K eous stained glass? what worthy pillars do the old 
elevates his mind above the low vulgarities of the leaves lj fe. The married situation may he one of tree tranks form for the support of the overarch- Never Despair.— True hope is based on energy 
SISTERS AND MOTHERS, 
-My heart, to-night 
Runs over with its fullness of content, 
And as I look out on the fragrant stars, 
And from the beauty of the night take in 
My priceless portion, yet myself no more 
Than in the universe a grain of sand, 
I feel His glory, who could make a world, 
Yet, in the lost depths of the wilderness 
Leave not a flower imperfect. 
Charlotte, Monroe Co., N. Y., 1858. J. B. S. 
Never Despair.— True hope is based on energy 
The propriety of cultivating feelings of benevo¬ 
lence towards our fellow creatures is seldom du- 
nied in theory, however frequently the duty may 
be omitted in practice. It has been recommended 
by the eloquence of heathen philosophers, and en¬ 
forced by some extraordinary examples of heathen 
philanthropy; but as the foundations on which 
they built their beautiful theories of virtue were 
narrow and confined, the superstructure was frail 
and perishable, and never was the true foundation 
discovered, ’till brought to light by Jesus Christ 
He first taught how the obstacles to benevolence 
w T ere to be removed, by conquering that pride, self- 
larger ones go unnoticed, or regarding them only th f a S e l but even these happy ones, who are in plicity of rural sounds from the valley below, mel- w b° le course of events. Such a spirit, too, rests nectinsr it with the lovp f i E othr-r -nd 
with a playful laugh. Such a course inspires him thi8 clime of bliss, remember long and late the lowed as they are by the distance. Let us now upon lt8elf 1 and it is not confined to partial views, Benefactor of all and made tbu lnvu nf fellow 
with lofty ideas of justice and equity. claims of a sister or a mother to their best affec- turn our eyes from the shadowy depths of the or to one particular object And if at last all creatnrea the test and eriterinn nf m„- Inveto the 
Fourth, Teach him obedience, i. e., « make him tlon8, In R® life of tbe solitary and single, those green-wood to the peaceful scene of these sounds. sh °nl d be lost, it has saved itself—its own integri- Creator while from true devotion to the Supreme 
mind” once in a while, say once in four or five wh o are said to be doomed to an ennui of loneli- Directly beneath ns, seemingly, is the old home- ty and wor tb- Hope awakens courage, while de- B eimr He thought that benevolence to man must 
weeks. That is often enough. It is injurious to neS8 > th e claims of a sister and a mother should stead, nestling among its maples and butternuts, sponden cy is tbe last of all evils; it is the aban- ne cessarilv flow He likuwisp taught that unon all 
conquer a child too often. bold strongly, not only upon their feelings, but flanked on either hand by laden orchards, eminent- , dpnmeat of g°° d -tbe giving up of the battle of ho we re convinced of these truths aud were anx- 
Finally, Keep him eating—every hour in the day duties - Those kindnesses which men bestow upon ly suggestive of golden pippins and amber cider, llf e with dead nothingness. He who can implant lous to fu ini the divine assistance would be be¬ 
have him gormandizing something. This will keep their offspring and their wives, who possess each, to be enjoyed around the home-fires of another c ° ura ge in the human soul is its best physician. Btow ed He alone ennobled virtue bv the assu- 
his stomach and other digestive organs in a con- and in whom their best views are concentrated, in winter—back of the orchard is the corn field, wav- * rance q{ an eter al reward y 
tinual commotion, which will greatly facilitate his lhe bachelor are given to the (almost) sacred ing “like an army with banners” and disclosing to Expression.—A man, to be truly eloquent, must ___ 
crying, lubricate the joints of his defensive appa- “ a “ 88 " kidh con 8 R tute tMs heading. In loving a a near view the flaunting yellow blossoms, which first possess some well-defined thought which he Every sinful outwordXd deed, and every secret 
ratus, and make him amiably disagreeable in gen- 18 ’ttbaUarthlimess of passion which are to be followed by the yellower fruit so inti- believes, feels, and with which he is so burdened thought and purpose of the mind, re-acts upon the 
A Mother. 
The hear 
when warm, 
, “ °,_, , . - * -—- -nrUU nmiiu uc is uu uuiucneu mougQl ana purpose oi me minu, re-auua nuuu luo 
e n\w IT, AMotukr. mn g thpr 77 heart - in th ® dev ° tlon due t0 a mately connected with our ideas of thanksgiving that he cannot keep it. Then, if his soul is on fire, mind itself and leaves its own impression there 
Out West, July , 1858. _ XXiXV ! 7 tbe selfishness of men.- time-next is the wheat field about assuming its there is no fear, provided he discards all affecta- as upon an ineffaceable tablet Aside from all 
heart like the veins bleeds most readilv are all derive/fmm y . J °, t 818 er and “°tb® r golden sacrificial garments, how the wind plays tion or artifice, that he will light up a flame in the the influence our sin may exert upon others, it 
■ arm ’ ,, , . , .. sources pure as the Divinity over its surface, till it appears like a waving sea,— minds of his audience, of sparkling, living thoughts puts imperishable impressions upon our own minds 
mat inspired them. opposite the wheat field is the newly shorn meadow which shall continue to burn forever. —Hickok. 
that inspired them. 
