TO-MORROW. 
fall 
r Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
OUR MAY. 
BY JENNY A. STO.VK. 
May's was a (air and girlish face, 
When the joy-bells rang sixteen, 
,4s she put aside, with a dimpled hand, 
The veil tha] hangs between 
The sunny land that Is childhood's home, 
And the years that stretch away 
To the shore of the vast aDd tideless sea, 
Where the shadows forever stray. 
But, 0, how fast the kingly years 
Were crowned, and passed away; 
’Twas hut a step to the silent tomb 
From the coronation day; 
And thirty years have bloomed and died,— 
We have counted them all to-day,— 
And thirty graves ranged side 1 y side 
Reach back to her natal day. 
The graves reach back, but never she 
To that blooming, happy land 
Which the left behind her, with springing feet, 
And an eager, outstretched hand, 
Longing to grasp tire fruits that hung 
So fair on life's tempting bowers,— 
Longing to kiss the fragrant dew 
From the bright-hued buds and (lowers. 
The bowers were reached, and faded flowers 
Were clasped to the heart of May,— 
The fruit wan ashes upon her lips, 
And she flung the cheat away,— 
And loves, and hopes, and thronging fears, 
Came fast to her waking heart, 
Fears for the past, but the burden was hers, 
And bravely she took her part. 
’Tig sad to think that her slender feet 
Have been pierced by the cruel thorn; 
That the stately head has been bowed with care, 
And the brow with grief-lines worn; 
That the ringing music of her laugh, 
And the light ol her sparkling eye, 
Are. sleeping now with the buried years 
That along her pathway lio. 
Joy has been hers, for a manly heart 
Was given to bur alone, 
And dimpled arms have clasped her neck, 
But the dimpled arms have gone,— 
She loved, but her love wa* a fearful thing, 
And she says,—hut we know not why,— 
That ’tis better never to lore at all, 
Than to love the things that die. 
And Mat is a woman, her deep bine eyes 
Are clear, like a summer sky, 
But their light was so often quenched in tears 
That we saw it fade and die; 
And the llnttoring hands have grown so still, 
Ami the springing step so slow, 
That her smiling only- seems to mock 
The sunbeams of long ago. 
We wonder. Indeed, if the May that was, 
Is the May that is With us still,— 
Sixteen and thirty,—woman and child,— 
’Tie sad, but wo bow to God’s will. 
Iiadley, Mich., 1860. 
“0, Mrs. Carlisle, you are looking too far 
ahead,—time enough for these thoughts when the 
occasion comes.” 
“Not so, Mrs. Wilson. Accustomed to a con¬ 
tinued round of trilling and folly, no useful em¬ 
ployments, no love of the quiet duties ol home, 
life becomes insipid,— duties, which should be a 
pleasure, are looked upon as drudgery,—husbands 
find fault,— quarrels ensure,— perhaps divorces, 
or else a life time of wretchedness. And these 
girls are ruining onr yonng men. Cot I see you 
are impatient to go, Mrs. Wilson.” 
11 Pardon me, Mrs. Carlisle,— 1 have an engage¬ 
ment, but I will talk with you again, Boon — you 
make me feel serious. But, for the present, good¬ 
bye.” 
"Adieu.'' q. 
--- 
rWritten for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
KIND WORDS AT HOME 
Kind words! What a spell they weave around 
the heart, They me among “the charities that 
sweeten life,”—diffusing a perpetual ray of sun¬ 
shine, which lightens the dark hours of Borrow and 
affliction, thus making home, to the troubled 
spirit, little less than a paradise,—a Bpot toward 
which the father or brother loveB to turn his foot¬ 
steps after weary days of toil,—a place wherein 
poets might love to build their theme, and over 
which angels love to spend their watchful care, 
and whispering, "blessed are the sons of peace.” 
How rarely do we find a home whose inmates 
are habitually hind from principle, yet of what in¬ 
estimable worth is it! The customs of society 
demand that we shall he polite to visitors. What 
term can we better substitute for kindness? We 
wouldn't, for the world, be heard speaking rudely 
to a lady in the parlor, —what would people say, 
if we should,—yet, we never pause to consider 
that we are driving from our presence, and 
making strangers amid our own household, those 
who have nearer and dearer relations toward ub, 
and whom we are hound to love, honor, and con¬ 
sole, during the manifold daily trials which cast a 
shadow over the life-path of every human being. 
Why need we wonder that so many seek enjoy¬ 
ments at. the gaming-table, or club-room, since 
happiness is a stranger at their own firesides?— 
Nor need wc remonstrate with them for their 
wrong-doing, for unkind words are rankling deep 
within the inmost recesses of the heart, shutting 
out the light of reason and truth. Our remon¬ 
strance would hut place another barrier between 
them and reformation. Never having thrown 
around them the hallowed light of kindness, the 
change in our conduct toward them seems but 
Did we but know what lies beyond 
This varied, shadowy path we tread. 
How often would onr souls despond, 
Our pyea the tears of sorrow shod? 
But God, who knows what's best to do, 
Who sees ua from his starry thone, 
Has wisely hidden from our view 
That which had best remain unknown 
We walk to-day in conscionx pride, 
And hang the flag of hope on high; 
But, ah, to-morrow, by onr aide, 
Some friend may lay him down and die; 
Some early flower that won onr praiao. 
Some altar where wt< laid onr trust; 
Such flower, ere dies the evening raya, 
May trampled he, and laid In dust. 
Youth dreams of many glorious things, 
As on he hies in pleasure's track; 
F.och day some new born promise brings. 
He turns no eye of sorrow back; 
The flowery fields are all before, 
His eyes on some bright star are set; 
Life is to him a sonny shore. 
He’ll learn it has its shadows yet. 
To-morrow! In its secret shade, 
1 little know what ia for me; 
I may be with my fathers laid, 
Or wrecked on dire misfortune's sea; 
But far beyond life's boundary lives 
The everlasting army bright; 
And He alone, who takes or gives, 
Can guide my wandering feet aright. 
The World We Live In. 
MOUNTAIN SCENERY. 
The following remarks, on the charms of 
mountain scenery, occur in an article upon the 
Kev. T. S. King's work on the White Hill’s, in the 
last North American Review. The paper is under¬ 
stood to he from the pen of the Rev. A. P. Pea- 
boot, D. !>., the editor; 
Mountain scenery, beyond all other forms and 
aspects of nature, generates strong local attach¬ 
ment. The most, intense love of country has al¬ 
ways been found in dwellers among the hills— 
No homes have been fought for with such earnest, 
self-sacrificing patriotism, as wild, and even bar¬ 
barous, rocky fastnesses. Mountaineers can be 
destroyed in their homes more easily than they 
can be driven from their homes; and none feel 
the hardship of exile and expatriation so keenly 
as they. Summer tourists arc hound by the same 
law of attraction. On other routes of travel they 
seek the zest of novelty, and are perpetually ex¬ 
ploring regions previously tiuvisited; hut the 
mountain journey or sojourn Invites their return 
for season after boosod, and the same steps are re¬ 
traced, the same haunt revisited, with an interest, 
a fascination, and a joy that never reach their 
climax. 1 his is due in part, we doubt not, to 
merely physical experience. The pure, thin, 
bracing air of elevated regions Is inhaled with a 
conscious luxury, which seldom accompanies the 
process of breathing on the plain or by the sea- 
| shore. The sum of vitality is doubled, and the 
life of two days seems condensed info one. The 
undulating paths, the nltertmtc ascent and de¬ 
scent, bring in turn nil the muscles employed in 
locomotion Into exercise, and give them in turn 
Mi 
TWritten for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
HYMNS FOR DEVOTIONAL HOURS. 
BY EDWARD KNOWLES, 
IVhen I consider what I am. 
So vile and overwhelmed in Bin, 
I can but think how different 
It is witbnnt from that within. 
My nature is delighted with 
The ways of the ungodly part, 
And hatea the mild restraint that holds 
In check the pnaelonB of my heart. 
I live beneath my privilege, 
And spend my life and strength for naught, 
Apd each day further find myself 
from all the pleasure that I sought. 
But here I make this new resolve, 
To use the grnoe already given, 
In striving up the narrow way 
That leads to happine.-s and heaven 
Climax, KaL Co., Mich., I860. 
“IT IS FINISHED.” 
. -- 
Amid the awful hush of stricken nature, and 
breathless men, the announcement,-" It is finish¬ 
ed," thrilled the universe! The hand thut lay in 
the manger is stiffened on the cross. The blood 
in!! 
||Lff 
relief and relaxation, so that not only does the , T. , , “ lue Cr0S8 ' Th0 blood 
enthusiastic pedestrian find his capacity enhanced, TUDvuJoT ^ *** hj Pilate ‘ 
»«. «> « ft. tan*! by repeated trial, tbe “ * “»"*> «“> * 
ll AY'O A in YitbneA A ( I. .. I_____ 1 m . * 
rWritten for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
A PLEA FOR SELF-ESTEEM 
Ir temporal happiness is worth securing, surely, 
then, that attribute of the human mind, which,— 
theoretically unpopular as it is,—has been chosen 
as my theme, deserves development, instead of 
suppression; for there can be no doubt that the 
man, best pleased with himself, and his achieve¬ 
ments, has fewest causes for discontent, Sclf- 
bnt, as we have learned by repeated trial, the 
horse, in w hose case the journey is a mere affair 
of muscle, Can measure, day by day, a greater 
distance, and for a greater number of successive 
days, In a hilly country than on level ground. 
But the transcendent charm of mountain scen¬ 
ery is its unceasing novelty. On no two days, for 
no two successive hours, is the panorama the 
same. .Sunlight, cloud, and vapor, are presented 
in combinations that change as often, and are as 
incapable of repenting themselves, as the groups 
of glittering objects in the kaleidoscope. The 
caps, wreaths, and fillets of azure mists, the shad- 
made for the occasion,-for ihc accomplishment ^ th ° Be un ”™ led ne K lec ‘? when a p er - 
of some design, with which the affections have T 80 ^owed is successful, his own opinion 
but little to do. ot w,ia t 18 Just W bis d « L \ can never be exceeded 
If, then, wc would be rightly appreciated, and th . at ° f oU ‘ M ?’ and in conso( l n ^ce every ova- 
would be Ihc means of doing good, let onr lins 18 ai ; ce P ted 88 ! * Blatter of course, and does 
___ . .11 . . , .... * no harm bv the ilattAfv ao..a 
ments, has fewest causes for discontent, Bclf- of . movinR cIouda - tbe * ri8 n mat,c lluCR that is no cause for alarm iu witnessing that corn 
esteem is, consequently, tho most effectual armor ° ^ ’ ariea mgS m * ba tra »'- s,1 >?anng glory at Did we know the realities of Hod. we should si 
ope can wear, against both the petty and the po- $? nBC ^ the passage of dcme columns of vapor hymns over that lifeless frame. And yet i 
tent annoyances of this world of change. It is hills And over the valleys, are at every weep! We weep ns though God had l,e- 
alike a shield from the effects of undue adulation, aB freS1 . a j ° y to beholdcr as lf thc thwarted, and his purpose foiled! Ignorance 
and thoaci of unmorilpd non-Wi- .. ,_ like had never been Been before. The niidHum* * mnrmnvni. i . 
“Thus strange arc divine processes. ‘Thou 
fool, that which thon sowest is not quickened ex¬ 
cept it die.’ In order to obtain life, you must 
embrace death! Every seed must become a 
corpse ore it cleave the soil, and wave its head in 
beauty and fruit. The rcsurreetional idea is every 
where characteristic of productive nature. God 
is about to plant a life-tree in the world, and 
Christ is the Seed; the seed dies, but will spring 
by Divine power into a glorious manifestation, 
and from its branches men will pluck the leaves 
which tiro for thc ‘healing of the nations.’ There 
is no cause for alarm iu witnessing that corpse. 
Did we know thc realities of God, we should sing 
hymns over that lifeless frame. And yet we 
weep! We weep ns though God had been 
UK0 nm,r , b< * n 8een beffjr *' Tha a murmurer. Wisdom, indeed weeps but her 
tner day is too short, the brief midsummer night tears arc the jcwd of = - 1 ’ 
too long, for a feast of beauty and grandenr _ * _ 
served by elemental spirits that know how to greet 
their guest with a new surprise at every moment. FATE 01 THE APOSTLES. 
ever give utterance to words of kindness. The 
lightly falling rain sinks deep into thc earth, 
reaching “ far down,” giving support to thc ten¬ 
der shoots, while tho torrent in its wildness aud 
madness,leaves nought hut desolation in its track. 
So with words,—the more kindly spoken, the 
deeper they sink Into the heart, nouri.-diing the 
tender plants of virtue, which, perchance, have 
no harm by the flattery implied; and in case he 
should fail, (which a person so organized, seldom 
does,) his consciousness of his merits,—imagined 
or otherwise, — renders him indifferent to the 
scorn of an unappreciative world; he docs not 
TOPS HAVE COME. 
Ykf, tops have come. We saw one yesterday— 
a veritable top,— we heard the music of its hum. 
feel its weight; it docs not sink him, as it would — we watclie ' 1 it a « it went to sleep,—aud we 
ri “ a> UUt ™ b0 * t0G0I) ' flwl11 ' deeper they sink into the heart, nourishing ihc UJ " r ° BenSitiV0 l’ 1 ™- fT“ waited until its last gyration died away, and it 
Hadley, Mich., 1860. tender p](UltK yf virtuo> whiclli perchance, have A * ain - self-esteem is, now-fl-days, one of the J 0 ? ofr - out of 1,10 magic circle, in the same old- 
- become rooted there; while unkind words grate P rinci I>^ elements of greatness; (I do not mean ashl ‘ )Ded ani 1 " e « Tllftr tangent. ” Well, what if 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] harshly upon the ear, harden the heart and sow tUttt almost mythical qualification of character top * have come ' thc reader ™ a >' “ 18 there 
A DISCUSSION.-CHAPTER I. the seeds of vice and wickedness, which thrive di * tin g ui » h «d the perfucing adjective “true,” 1 , 8 partlcn,ar ,n ? ‘°P‘’ (jood f i»end — 
- best in haunts where the light of kindness is but have ref « re n<* to the modern acceptation of altboi1 S b 8omcw bat critical—there is much In a 
“How many children have you, Mrs. Carlisle? neverknown. Then, if we would accomplish life's the term, which has for its special synonym, no- *° T P ’ U . baS a . eiory 10 tell - lt come8 in witb 
Yon had one hoy when we met last, I believe, greatest mission here,-that of winning others for wl,at diffident man has the courage to . ’ ~ Jt ein S 8 white clouds and hiue skies, 
and, if 1 ever knew, I have forgotten about your from degrading, vicious influences, and sinful t> e great, when he knows that he must face aVo- \V, 9 t JC <ore ' runner ^ April showers,—tho 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
A DISCUSSION.-CHAPTER I. 
tops have come,” the reader may say, “is there a natural death at Ephesus, in Asia, 
anything particular in a top?” Good friend— 1 — ~ 
FATE OF THE APOSTLES. 
St. Matthew is supposed to have suffered mar¬ 
tyrdom, or was put to death by the sword, at the 
city of Ethiopia. 
St. Mark was dragged through the streets of Al¬ 
exandria, in Egypt, till he expired. 
St. Luke was hanged upon an olive tree in 
Greece. 
St. John was put into a cauldron of boiling oil, 
at Rome, and escaped death. He afterwards died 
A . J .-. —-■« VVriJ l*UU RlUiUi . — l'*w 
lamuy. ways, to behold the "glorious tight” of gospel P°rtionato share of detraction from enemies as 
‘•Throe boys, Mrs. Wilson,— the eldest, ten; the truth and love,—let us practice that grand pro- weU 88 the admiration of friends? Therefore, if 
second, seven; and the third, my baby four cent, which is worth beinir inscriheit in nRai-n,.. any one desires to he great, lot him cultivate — 
years old.” 
“ Indeed, how unfortunate! No daughters? I 
have three lovely girls, the eldest, seventeen; the 
next, fifteen; aud the youngest, thirteen. I have 
always felt so thankful it was not my lot to train 
a pauk of rough, rude hoys. One can teach girls 
some gentilily, and refinement, ami keep clean, 
nice clothes, on them,— hut these mad-cap, ha¬ 
rum-scarum boys, it makes me nervous to think 
of them.” 
, . , . 4 . . 8he not be in the social circle as a brilliant star 
As to being unfortunate, Mrs. V ii.son, it is [ n the midnight heavens?—should she not he an 
■ Ki'l Du «i4l In.-tl nh.M.i I 1. .. v- A_..11. ** 
truth and love,—let us practice that grand pro- 88 * be ad miration of friends? Therefore, if 
cept, which is worth being inscribed in ebarae- an ^ 0I,e desires to he great, let him cultivate,— 
tors of gold, and placed where all may read:— more asfti dupu»ty than he docs anything else,—an 
“ Be ye kind one to another.” Emily- Ellis. unbounded confidence in himself. Had there not 
New Lebanon, Col. Co., N. Y., 1860. been a deficiency of this one qualification, I am 
-*-•-*--- sure that the past would have hud twice her num- 
WOMAN’S SPHERE. ber of heroes, statesmen, and poets. It is prob- 
- ably due to that deficiency alone, that so many 
Where is < the true sphere of woman! Whore “ geras of P urest ra 7 serene” were hidden in ‘‘the 
should she preside? Is it not at home?—is not dark ’ un f at bomed caves of ocean,”—the ocean of 
this the place designed by her Maker? Shonld Security. 
she not be in the social circle as a brilliant star And now ’ if n, y position is a logical one, allow 
first blossom of spring. Those urchins in round¬ 
abouts and tucked pataloons, cones and whip¬ 
cord, are the heat chroniclers of the changing sea¬ 
sons. They watch for the ides of March, with 
eyes that will not he deceived, and they know 
when the sunshine ia longer and stronger, as well 
as astronomers and meteorologists. Tops, mar¬ 
bles, and kites, are as regular in their round as the 
planets in their orbits,— and you may swear by 
St. James the great was beheaded at Jerusalem. 
St» James was thrown from a pinnacle or wing 
of tbe temple, and then beaten to death with a 
fuller’s club. 
St. Phillip was hanged up against a pillar at 
Hierapolis, a city of Phrygia. 
St Bartholomew was flayed alive by thc com¬ 
mand of a barbarous king. 
St. Andrew was hound to a cross, whence he 
preached to the people till he expired. 
St. Thomas was run through the body by a 
lance, near Malipar, iu the East Indies. 
ably due to that deficiency alone, that so many , x . urmw,— anu you may swear by Pcrb Hearts.—I think we must all admit there 
“gems of purest ray serene” were hidden in ‘‘the jem > a8UK ‘U sometimes swear by Jupiter and Mars, is nothing so beautiful as a pure heart,— a heart 
dark, unfathomed caves of ocean,”— the ocean of ,, , E ? - ve8t0l da ^ " , b L ‘ 11 wc beard the creaking through which Jesus has gone as he w.-ut through 
obscurity. 81 P lh « “ d thal “ U3 ^l whistle the courts of the temple at Jerusalem, driving 
And now, if my position is a logical one, allow T,?? on “ filled our ears Y lth ^ oy ’ " e kne 'V thence everything that offended,—all hatred, all 
me to take just a little advantage of the "leap .V at J be winter was over and that “the time of malice, all jealousy, all envy, all unc lean ness—a 
year” privileges, and give bashful gentlemen a Singing of birds ’had come. Wc knewthal heart whose thoughts are pure, whose desires are 
short—very short—lecture. I would say, first, ‘ L SD0WS were beginning to dissolve on the p ure| whose affections are pure, whose motives 
Conquer the delusion that you are not just as mou " tam ®> tbul the ice waa melting in the are pure, wIiobc purposes are pure, whose princi- 
t I . 3*1 1 , , . * • ••• •••lists 1 VUVD. mi | UUU* v - -— • WIV*V^UVl*L . .. . . ’ O --- - Y v». 
girls are very much admired, and sought for in enee is great; she is the best teacher for her little to di8trast every one, and every thing, before you neVf llf ° t0 tbeir 6t . 0nt trnnks and ams -— so heantifal, so desirable, so glorious ns a pure 
f* FYTD fill TIT T n Irntli f aha I a oah .. ^ , ‘ - .... * Tlli’Jl'ft hi ft tr cf Ilf lin flnrwi ad a f mn a «<• f?n., n n n « y , o r . a 4 
chief. Girls now, scarcely out of their bibs, must 
he running out every evening to some doings or 
other, coming home in the night, sleepingaway the 
morning.—getting up jaded and listless, unlit for 
any employment,—full of false notions of gentility, 
of dress, of manners—affeeted, vain, extravagant, 
and utterly unprepared for homo duties, and the 
realities of life. I do not refer to your daugh¬ 
ters, 31 rs. Wilson, for 1 am unacquainted with 
them. You and I were not thus educated. We 
went in company seldom, and then under care 
till we were of an age to know good from evil, 
and to choose proper associates.” 
road to heaven; she can lead them in the path of An egotistical person need not, necessarily, ren- 
virtuc; she can guide their wandering footsteps der himself disagreeable; he must learn the art 
so they may falter not, hut press on to the mark f,f concealing his self-eBteem, under an 
of their high calling. Such is the powerful and air of J ‘ n 'wette. at any rate, in the worst stages of 
salutary influence which woman can exert, and obtrusiveness, it is to be preferred to that painful 
for such will he given her a crown of glorious irn- bashfulness which renders not only himself, but 
mortality. Through life Bhe may have borne all around him, uncomfortable, and often perfectly 
many ills, yel, when she draws near to the end of uiismWe, the victim of mistakes, the target for 
life, she will feel that she has endeavored to do *bc shafts of unjust criticism, 
her duty, of having faithfully performed the work Iu conclusion, then, don't b® bashful, or you 
ol her Creator, and give a good account of her will never succeed iu this jostling, selfish world 
r+Anrn l.dnl-. I ' X r 
uui luc wuuer o\ei ana uie sceptreoi icicles Are we groaning after conformity to God? Are 
and shadows is broken. Already the jocund day we hungering and thirsting after righteousness?_ 
steps out of the East like a king in purple, aud Selected. 
his sunset pavilions are bathed in showers of gold. “*'*'•-- 
Here and there, too, are blossoms in the grass, Bono Sermons. —Rev. Wm. Taylor, in “The 
and the sleeping blood of the forest is shooting Model Preacher,' says:—“Often,whenapreacIier 
out into dripping buds and grec-n leaves. bas driven a nail in a sure place, instead of 
The school boy carries a weight of wisdom in Pinching it, and securing well the advantage, he 
his top. You may put faith in his fore-knowl- hammers away till he breaks the head off) or splits 
edge. He notes the parallaxes of tbe stars and tbe board. — Witness. 
stewardsb ip. —Leisure Moments. 
, UUMUWUU , T.'™ , wr > ou keeps the record of the sun. He is better than au 
mi ucvei succeci in t is jost mg, selfish world, almanac. And when tops come, and you hear 
taken as a whole, or with other men, individually; them humming like bees iu the streets and alleys, 
and lastly, you will fail to please the ladies— * ' 
iu lu uuuusc primer associates. t.tc- . n , , —- 
“Tr«®, very true, Mrs. Carmslk, and perhaps thi, ^ f ^ ^ alwa - vs some ‘ ' anxvFkkn to the contrary, notwithstanding- 
„ ... t ..... ........ «... , . . ruing ot natures own gentility in all voune wo- by subiectinir them to unexnectAd diannnnini-. 
that was the best way. But, dear me, my girls 
would fret and chafe terribly at any sumllunce, 
and I find it impossible to keep them in. ‘Such 
ones, aud such ones, are going, and it's a grand 
time, and this time we must go, Til aand so it 
goes. What cottld you do?” 
“ Well, I do not wish to dictate, Mrs. Wilson. ] 
can only say, I consider it very wrong to suffer 
such things, nor could I have daughters taking 
any such course. I should presume to choose 
and dictate for them, until they could do it sensi¬ 
bly, taking care to provide plenty of wholesome 
home amusements and employments. Whatkind 
of an idea do you suppose nine-tenths of the 
girls, now-a-days, have of their duties, and their 
lives hereafter,—after they get the husbands they 
are hunting, and get settled? What kind of 
wives will they make,— what sort of mothers?” 
you may he sure that the vernal equinox is 
near, and you may look for clearer horizons and 
warmer skies.— Selected. 
tiling of nature a own gentility in all young wo- by subjecting them to unexpected disappoint- wanner Skill-Selected. . 
mea J (except, indeed, when they get together and ments, and never being able to realize their heroic ,, ( _ 
fall a giggling.) It shames us men to see how sort of ideals. Marie Estelle. Respect to the Sex.-II should he thc boast 
much sooner they are polished into conventional 0—, Illinois, i860. of every man that he had never put modesty to 
snipe an our roug masculine angles. Aval- the blush, nor encouraged immodesty to remove 
gai hoy requires, heaven knows what assiduity, to In written Poetry— It is stamped upon the her mask. But we fear there is far too little 
move three steps, I do not say like a gentleman, broad blue sky,—it twinkles in every star,—it chivalry in tbe present day. If young men do 
but like a hoy with a soul in him; hut give the mingles in thc ocean's surge, and glitters in the DO t chuck their partners under the chin, they are 
least advantage of society or tuition to a peasant ^ow-drop that gems thc lily’s bell. It glows in often guilty of pressing their hands when the 
girl, and a hundred to one hut she will glide into gorgeous colors of the decline of day, and dance affords an opportunity. There is a calm 
refinement before the boy can make a how with- rests In the blackened crest of the gathering dignity with which to show that the offense has 
out upsetting the table. There ia a sentiment in storm-cloud. It is iu the mountain’s height and been noticed, but if a lady condescends to re- 
all women, and that gives delicacy to thought and ia tbe cataract’s roar,-in the towering oak, and prove it in words, she forces the culprit to defend 
taste to manner; with men it is generally acqui- iu the tiny flower. Where we can see the hand himself, and often ends by making the breach 
led an otlspnngofthe intellectual quality, not as of God, there beauty finds her dwelling-place. worse. On the other hand, let a woman once 
' ut m o ther sex, ut the moral. Bulwer Lyttott. -overlook the slightest familiarity, and fail to 
p , . ** ~ When we are alone, tve have our thoughts to show her surprise in her manner, and she can 
unless tWL. ar< ?3 b6tter thaa g ° 0d dream8 ’ Watch; in the famil ^- our tempers; in company, never he certain that it will not he repeated— 
our tongues. Habits of Good Society. 
been noticed, bat if a lady condescends to re¬ 
prove it in words, she forces the culprit to defend 
himself, and often ends by making the breach 
worse. On the other hand, let a woman once 
overlook the slightest familiarity, and fail to 
show her surprise in her manner, and she can 
lr is not plainer preaching, certainly it is not a 
clearer Bible, that you need; hut it is a clearer 
eyesight, a power of sharper discernment, ami a 
more perspicuous insight into yourself. This 
“opening of your eyes,” this exaltation of your 
faculties, God alone can give. 
- - - 
The gospel drops nothing but marrow and fat¬ 
ness, love and sweetness, and therefore God looks 
in these days that men should grow up to a greater 
height of holiness, heavenliness and spirituality 
than what they attained to in those dark days 
wherein the sun shone hut dimly. 
-- 
A HtSttBLS soul can never be good enough; it 
can never pray enough, or hear enough, or mourn 
enough, or believe enough, or love enough, or 
fear enough, or joy enough, or repent enough, or 
loathe sin enough, or be humble enough. 
----- 
Full vessels will bear many a knock, many a 
stroke, and yet make no noise; so Christians, who 
unless they be executed. 
never he certain that it will not he repeated— are full of Christ and full of the Spirit, will bear 
Habits of Good Society. many a blow, many ft stroke, without murmuring. V. 
