ft 
[Written for Mooro's Kara! New-Yorker.] 
‘CHEER UP! CHEER UP!” 
BT ANNIE M. llKACH. 
“Chkbr or! Clierr up!” the robin rays, 
High in the apple tree; , 
Cheer up! Cheer up! Her preeting kinji 
The Rpritig hath »ent to thee. 
She cometh o'er the mountains uow 
With gladness in her train, 
And sparkling Rtreamh rejoice to see 
Their fetters snap in twain. 
Cheer Up! Cheer up! Though drifting snow 
So long hath wrapt the glen, 
The wild roue and the violet 
Shall blossom yet again; 
And where the wailing wintry w ind 
Hath swept, all wild and free, 
Again the lark's sweet song shall gush,— 
Again shall hum the bee. 
1 Cheer up! Cheer up! the seraph Hope 
la singing to my heart; 
Cheer up! Cheer up! and hid each weight 
Of weariness depart 
For where the shadows of distrust 
Have o’er thy life-path lain, 
The gentle (lowers of confidence 
Shall blossom yet again. 
0, welcome! welcome! gentle Spring, 
From Flora's fragrant shore; 
Thou comest with the beautiful 
To crown the earth cnee more. 
• And welcome! welcome! noavou-sent Hope, 
Thrice welcome to my heart, 
Thy cheerful presence doth, indeed, 
Bid cold distrust depart. 
Ciynbria, N. Y., 1860. 
4 ».- 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
THE MISSION OF MADAM GOSSIP. 
There is one character in the world which is 
an enigma to man and itself,—that public and un¬ 
loved character, Jladam Gossip. We have yet to 
j herself. 13 her presence a sunbeam in a neigh¬ 
borhood? Par from it The passion that leads 
her from house to house, is worse than any pesti¬ 
lence that ever swept the earth. Each repetition 
of her communications is new seed sown in the 
soil of deceit, for it takes on a new feature every 
time her black tongue repeats it anew. Ah, 
Madam Gossip, you may twist and turn as you 
will, the world knows you are a gossip still. 
How easy to penetrate her mask,—how dispicable 
her acts appear in the minds of those who love 
candor. And what a fearful price she pays for 
her propensity. The mark placed on Cain was 
no less distinct than is the one sensible men and 
women put upon the confirmed gossip. 0, un¬ 
fortunate Madam Gossip. Stay your suicidal 
work. Truth laughs at you, and looks down on 
you with incomparable contempt. Truth would 
not touch the hem of your garment, for all } our 
seeming triumphs. Truth scorns your railings. 
Go, get you hack to your congenial cavern, hide 
from the sunlight of heaven, sinee, if ye will 
choose the wages of evil report, before good will 
and peace, In darkness shall ye meet all the kin¬ 
dred offspring of thy crimes. 
Rittsford, N. Y., 1860. W. E. Edmonds. 
WHAT IS DUE TO WOMAN. 
Let man learn to be grateful to woman for this 
unbounded achievement of her sex, that she, far 
more than he, and too often in despite of him, has 
kept Christendom from lapsing hack into barbar¬ 
ism; kept mercy and truth from being utterly 
overborne by those two greedy monsters, money 
and war. Lot him be grateful for this, that 
almost every great soul that lias led forward, or 
lifted up the race, has been furnished for each 
noble deed, and inspired with each patriotic and 
holy inspirat ion, by the retiring fortitude of some 
Spartan, or more than Spartan,—some Christian 
mother. Moses, the deliverer of his people, 
drawn out of the Nile by the k big's daughter, 
some one has hinted, is only a symbol of the way 
that woman’s better instinct* always outwit the 
tyrannical diplomacy of man. Let him carefully f 
remember that, though the sinewy sex achieves \ 
enterprise on public theatres, it is the nerve and 
sensibility of the other, that arm the mind and 
inflame the Boul in secret. “A man discovered 
FOOTSTEPS OF ANGELS. 
BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 
When the hours of day are numbered, 
And the voices of the night 
Wake the better soul that slumbered 
To a holy, calm delight; 
Ere tbe evening lamp* are lighted, 
And, lik»phaatoms grim and tall, 
Shadows from the fitful fire-light 
Dance upon the parlor wall; 
Then the forms of the departed 
Enter at the open door; 
The beloved one*, the true hearted, 
Come to visit me odco more. 
ne, the young and strong, who cherished 
Noble longings for the etrife— 
By the road-side fell aud perished, 
Weary with the march of life! 
They, the holy ones and weakly, 
Who the cross of suffering bore,_ 
Folded their pale hands eo meekly,_ 
Spake with us on earth no more! 
And with them the being beauteous, 
Who unto my youth was given, 
More than all things else to love me, 
And is now a saint in heaven. 
With Blow and noiseless footsteps 
Comes that messenger divine, 
Takes the vacant chair beside rue, 
Lays her gentle hand in mine. 
And she sits and gsres at me, 
With those deep and tender eyes, 
Like the stars, so Still and saint-like, 
Looking downward from the skies. 
Utter'd, yet not comprehended, 
Is the spirit’s voiceless prayer, 
Soft rebukes, tn blessings ended, 
Breathing from her lips of air. 
Oh, though oft oppressed and lonely, 
All roy fears are laid aside, 
If I but remember only, 
Such as these have lived and died! 
go blindly through life without ascertaining their 
value? They keep them “hid in a napkin,” and 
without looking at them, count them but one. 
Many are the owners of ten talents, if they-but 
knew^ it “To whom much is given, ranch will be 
required;’ therefore let us search carefully to ascer¬ 
tain what are our means of doing good, and 
improve them. Did we hat realize this, how 
much more careful would be our actions—how 
w atchful, how earnest would we he to do perfectly 
right. 
Life, at best, is short and fleeting. A few years 
spent in doing acts of kindness or of evil,_sun¬ 
shine and shadow, — hot tears over the crushed 
and silent forms of those we love, who must lie 
buried from our sight,— hours spent in pleasure, 
in receiving or impaiting knowledge,—and it is 
past,—the record has gone up on high. IIow 
important that we improve,— that we strew' our 
path with deeds oflove, charity, and benevolence, 
and, withal, forgiveness,—that we endeavor to 
lighten the cares of others, and to do good. Oh! 
the bitterness, the untold misery that has been 
produced by unkind words, because of them 
what hearts have bled, what ruurmurings and 
repining* have been produced, what tears have 
been shed, what hope* of life blighted! How- 
little we appreciate the great importance of kind 
words. Let wealth he taken away,— everything 
hut friends and a mere home,— if we have a sun¬ 
shiny heart, are kind and pleasant, possessing 
hope and faith, we will still dwell in almost an 
Eden. 
Let us look upon eternity as boundless, though 
as having a boundary between it and life. The 
paths of life all enter it. Bee the travelers jour¬ 
neying onward—a countless number! Uow differ¬ 
ent they appear. Some sorrowful, despairing, 
doubting, unhappy, and seeming to seek not for 
happiness! Other*, always gentle, kind, and pos¬ 
sessing a quiet and peaceful countenance, which 
is the index of a happy heart. Over the paths of 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
THIS WORLD IS NOT OUR HOME. 
BY JAMES B, AMHERST. 
This world Is not our home, 
Our final resting-place, 
Where we must stay and never see 
Our gracious Master's face. 
This world i* not our home, 
Where sin and sorrow reign; 
M e have, I trust, a blissful home, 
Beyond our toil and pain. 
This world is not our home, 
Where mortalM pine away; 
Our home is where the angels sing 
In one eternal day. 
This world is not our home; 
We have a home above, 
Where ransomed sinners praise the Lord, 
Who saved them by his love. 
This world is not our home,— 
This world of tears and pain,— 
Let us so live that, when we die. 
A heavenly world may gain. 
0, may we keep in view 
Thy dying agonies, Lord, 
And may we be, when called away, 
Supported by Thy word, 
Hillsboro, Ill,, I860. 
-—- - 
[Written for Moore’s kurat New-Yorker.] 
THE STORMS OF LIFE, 
Fancy generally paints her pictures in light, 
pi$6 oias®®, 
-- X'J 
learn that there is a single redeeming feature in America, but a woman equipped the voyage.” 
some, rest dark clouds: over that of others, sun- or, at least, so disposes the sunshine and shadow 
shine. Some are helping others onward, and as to form one harmonious blending which we 
some go coldly on alone. The child, in Its joy- love to contemplate. The pencilings of Truth 
ousness, plucks earthly flowers with a smile, and are more deeply and darkly delineated —too fre- 
tears follow when they wither in its grasp. Those quenlly, alas! without any cheering ruv save 
in youth, look eagerly forward to the future,—in that which the Star of Howe throws r„,i OQ „ 
her mission. Neitherare we able to understand for 
what purpose this human back-biter was created. 
Nevertheless, the Gossip is a reality,—a creature 
which is never so happy as when seeking, with 
foul breath, to undermine some neighboi’a fair 
character. Nothing is so sacred hut what the 
Gossip pollutes if with vapid tongue; with sly 
So everywhere; man executes the performance, 
but woman trains the man. Every effectual per¬ 
son, leaving his murk on the world, is hul another 
Columbus, for whose furnishing'some Isabella, in 
the form of his mother, lays down her jewelry, 
her vanities, and her comfort. 
Above all, let not man practice upon woman 
middle age they wish to be crowned with honor, 
— in old age they look back on childhood with a 
mixture of regrets and sorrows. But many are 
quently, alas! without any cheering ray, save 
that which the Star of Hope throws out as a 
beacon amid the surrounding gloom. Thus, 
again and again, when imagination lias been 
reveling in somo scene of repose on the sea of 
insinuation, and fancied wisdom, does site spread the perpetual and shameless falsehood of 
* [Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
OUR LIFE-WHAT SHALL IT BE? 
Life, with its Btern realities, its joys and sor¬ 
rows, its pleasures and pains, is before us. If is 
given us to use, to improve, and to enjoy,— as the 
v A _ i * ... ' -- r v vr* *v,j/ubo UIJ UAL flt'a 01 
looking up, and a vision of never-failing joys human life, the finishing stroke of stern renlitv 
seems to appear before them. Ah! this is a would reveal, in the distance, a cloud like to a 
strange picture, and one which cannot be de- man’s hand, or a billow bounding onward bear- 
senbed with all ns realities. We, ton, are among ing the wreck of joys which seemed destined for 
these travelers. To which number do we belong? cloudless skies and placid waters. Stick were 
Is the sunshine or the shadow over our heads? the thoughts suggested by that poetically beauti- 
Do look up for strength, so that when our life ful, hut mournfully true sentiment “There are 
i M J.n.lswl a1w. 1I ~ „ tii. . . , . . . > UAL, 
,....uvwp mil. qjivau ""V fjt.-j jji-iiuui iiiiu DUIUuvXvBB idiseuoou 01 pre- - v “il'Vl-- uo l.uq * . - - - - - DC, 
out her unsuspecting neighbor’s peculiarities, tending admiration, and acting contempt Let timeto use our t ' l,0IlU t0 tbe best advantage, to , i/* cm cd ’ we BlUiH be G ,a « runn life, which storms on life’s dark waters, 
magnifying every suspicion her own arts can not men exhaust their kindness in adorning her P erform aol » «f kindness and mercy, to share the 8 nc ‘ V81 ( nd, find enjoy the glories of heaven? I see childhood, innocent 
create, and clothing every act with a slanderous person, and usk in return the humiliation of sorrows of Other*, as well as to rejoice at their unun ' a ' fe ’ Ua ’ ” Alice Ashley. fount which bears upon its 
create, ami clothing every act with a slanderous 
garment. 
It is amusing to watch her twistings and turn¬ 
ings as conscience stings her. In her own esti¬ 
mation she never does aught censurable, —she, the 
self-appointed judge and heartless executioner of 
other’s frailties, always talks and acts the paragon 
of perfectness. Who has not seen her go forth on 
some tell-tale expedition, and noted how slyly she 
whispered her ill assorted wares of scandal Into 
person, and ask in return the humiliation of 
her soul. Let. them not assent to her every high 
opinion as if she were not strong enough to 
maintain it against opposition; nor yet manu¬ 
facture opinion for her, and force it on her lips by 
dictation. Let them not cruelly her emotions, 
nor ridicule her frailty, nor crush her individ¬ 
uality, nor insult her independence, nor play off 
mean jests upon her honor in convivial corn- 
prosperity. We cannot strictly define it,—it is 
alone for the living. The dead oner, possessedU, 
but it is tied from them. Their eyes are forever 
closed on earthly 12,it.ge, >md their p,ut lile alone 
is jrft to Lill ieuc,/ tK.t of the living. It is a 
precious seed-time, in which to plant never-dying 
seeds, which will blossom in eternity,—a bright 
dream from which we must all awake,— a day 
which is followed by the sleep of death, — 
a bright scene,—a drama of strange pictures, 
ae ; er eml - Rn(J en J°y Series Of heaven? I see childhood, innocent childhood beside a 
*• Y - *>»« Whlob b„,; upon l„ bosom a ',oy Ship! 
--- gently guided in its movements by a magnet. As 
PATERNAL DUTY. we « azo on lI ' a ' which we would fain believe the 
- effects ol our own skill, we dream not of the 
The father who plunges into business so deeply wl, itry air that will congeal those tiny waves 
at he has no leisure for domestic duties and MW ‘ 1 '"'- — • — ,_J 
whispered her ill assorted wares of scandal Into panics, nor bandy unclean doubts about her ns a iouowea ny tne sleep ol death,— 
other people’s ears,—always with the stereotyped wretched substitute for wit; nor whisper vulgar a . bri 8 ht scene ,—.1 drama of strange pictures, 
precaution, “not to tell for your life.” Who lias suspicions of her purity, which, as compared wibl Imaginations, sunshine and shadow, joy and 
not met her with voracious appetite,—so vora- with their own, is like the immaculate whiteness griuf ’ paaaing vivi % before up,— a fancy which 
cious that she could hardly wait for opportunity of angels. Let them multiply her social advan- " e ’ 0urRelve8 ’ P icltire foi ‘ «»r future as bright and 
to rehearse her silly reports? Who has not met tages, enhance her dignity, minister to her intcl- beautiful > "'i' 1 ' 'be summer of happiness and the 
the deceitful creature and hoard her very flutter- ligenco, and, by manly gentleness, be the patrons franfd,i,,a of hope ever reigning there, 
ing words, when all the while you knew she w as of her genius, the friends of her fortune, aud the Gut the reality,—what is it? It is for ourselves 
lying to her own soul ? And what a miserable equals, if they can, of her heart— Rev, F. D. to determine. It is for ua to decide whether our 
being she must be. Only tliInk how her mind Huntington.. life shall be happy or miserable, whether, as we 
must be filled with hateful thoughts and wicked pass along, we will dispense acts of kindness 
surmises. Her bruin cannot be otherwise than a THE BEAUTY OF THE FAMILY. which will return to us in a ten-fold proportion, 
moral pest-house,—a hospital filled all the while - making our hearts happy with their presence or 
pleasures, ana win/se only intercourse with his 
children consists in a brief word of authority, or 
a surly lamentation Over their intolerable expens¬ 
iveness, is equally to be pitied and to be blamed. 
What right has he to devote to other pursuits the 
ness the sunny sky reflected there. But truth 
says, even to laughing childhood, “There are 
storms on life's dark waters.” 
On a lake where 
“The silvery fight, with Quivering glance, 
Played o’er the water’s still expanse,” 
wild imaginations, sunshine aud shadow, joy and '' me which God has allotted to his children?— Played o’er the water’* still expanse,” 
grief, passing vividly before ns,—a limey which Nor is ltanyoxouBe to Bay that lie cannot support a light skiff is gliding. Thoughtless youth is 
we, ourselves, picture for our future aa bright and bis family in their present style of living without there, lulled into forgetfulness by the soft rip- 
beautiful, with the summer of happiness and the this effort. I ask by what right can his family plings of the tide which is bearing the fragile 
lying to her own soul? And what a miserable 
beiug she must be. Only think how her mind 
must be filled with hateful thoughts and wicked 
surmises. Her bruin cannot be otherwise than a 
moral pest-house,—a hospital filled all the while 
with degrading memories,—and we know full well 
that truth never associates with such companions 
as the Gossip delights to meditate with. And 
what a task it must be for her to keep community 
aware of her important secrets. What a load up¬ 
on memory to keep tbe record of the bickerings, 
the faults, and intents of her neighbors. Besides, 
the creature disclaims prevarication.—never once 
suspects that she magnifies her tales,— for what 
she dont toll as absolute facts, she makes up in 
absolute surmises, simply, or in hints of things 
strange, mysterious. 
Who has not seen her itch like the plague be¬ 
fore now, when some of her exaggerations, hav¬ 
ing returned from the errands she sent them, and 
been washed of the slime she spit upon them, 
looked at her with truth’s meek eyes till she 
trembled. How mortals must bate themselves to 
have to admit the paternity of a falsehood. 
Especially so, when the highest motive that 
prompted the debasement was some mean desire to 
injure the feelings of others, or mar their names, 
seeking through an unbridled tongue to demolish 
demand to live in a maimer which requires him 
to neglect the most important duties? Js it any 
advantage to them to be relieved from the neces¬ 
sity of labor? Beside, is money the only desira¬ 
ble bequest which a father can teave tohisehil- 
pnngs oi tne tide winch is bearing the fragile 
bark onward. Yonder vista is opening to a 
deeper channel, anil more dangerous waves; but 
we, all abfiorbed^with the present, think not of 
an adverse wind, or a reflux tide. 
Manhood, as thou sittest by that prow, why is 
dren? Surely, well cultivated intellects, hearts thy countenance stern, and thy brow knit by the 
sensible to domestic affection; the love of pa- indications of rebellious thought? Is there no 
We leave it to you if she don’t, invariably, “ turn frown upon allwhether we will weave the “ web rents ' A,ul brelbren and sisters; a taste for home music in the pensive sighing of the wind through 
out" the worst of the lot? If she don’t cultivate of life” well, or with blemishes. It is for u* to P ,uasures l habits of order, regularity and indus- the set sail aud tightened cordage? Why dost 
the outside of her head to total forgetfulness of form good habits, to select proper reading and to try; a hatred Of vice and vicious men, and a thou tremble at the lightning’s flash, and why art 
the inside? If she is not petted, aud fondled, and associate with good company, that our lives may lively 8Qnalb,Iit y t0 tke excellence of virtue; are tliou aileut at the thunder’s roar? Of what are 
flattered, and shown off, till selfishness is wrilten be like the sunshine, cheering others and being aS valuable a le £ ac J as an inheritance of prop- they the harbingers, that thou shouldst long for 
all over her? If she is not sure to marry some bright for ourselves. ° ’ ‘ ° erty,—simple property purchased by the loss of a hiding place? Oh, we know that the dark 
lazy fellow, or some drunken brute, who will , , t t1 . . every habit which could render that property a spirits of the tempest are marshaling the ele- 
braise her body, or her heart, to a jelly, and be ,,, '. !'° n ! J ^’’ may “ a l0 U ■ a dat ' k blessing.— Selected. ments, and soon he is to experience that “there 
triad to COffiP With lw*r tVirlnrn MiiM•**%*» o | cloud, cold and repulsive in its appearance. Oui | m - | are storms on lifn'a mot.n... h 
INFLUENCES OF EARLY CIRCUMSTANCES. 
lazy fellow, or some drunken brute, who will 
bruise her body, or her heart, to a jelly, and be 
glad to come, with her forlorn children, for a 
morsel of bread to the comfortable home of that 
suubhed member of the family who was only 
“ our John,” or “ our Martha,” and who never, by 
any possibility, was supposed by them capable 
of being or doing anything? We leave it to you, 
if the “beauty of ihe family” be a boy, if he 
don't always grow up a blockhead? If he is uot, 
Bure to disgiiBt. everybody with his conceit and 
affectation, while he fancies he is the admired of 
all eyes, even if he don't squander away all the 
money he ean lay his hands on, and finally die in 
the gutter? We never see a very handsome child, 
ol either sex, set up on the family pedestal to he 
admired by that family and its friends, to the 
lives do have a great influence on others, for we 
cannot act wholly independent,— either, if evil, 
making Those who do well shun us and our exam- 
every habit which could render that property a spirits of the tempest are marshaling the ele- 
blessing.— Selected. ments, and soon he is to experience that “there 
-- are storms on life's dark waters.” 
INFLUENCES OF EARLY CIRCUMSTANCES. Yonder vessel has cast anchor. Age is reclin- 
- ing there, regardless of the helm that has safely 
The early circumstances, physical and moral, guided his once stately hut now weather-beaten 
: l r "r ns ana ourexam. TnE early circumstances, physical and moral, guided his once stately hut now weather-beaten 
' ’ " 101 IS ° f ntt ,c ulaC > ' a 1U S many 0 f m en who leave distinct and permanent influ- hark so near its final resting place. Its cords are 
™ ^ ng t V 3 10 w< " ludcd hy the ences behind them, are more significant than we loosening, the sails flap idly against the mast, 
.. ' °*' ° KU 11,nhUt 'Ui.e. and despised by j ma gj ne _ it was no accidental coincidence that and one more mandate will echo through them, 
the fortunes of some one, perhaps, unconsious of excbls ' on uI other children, that we don’t 
her displeasure, and what important airs the hate- ‘' ke P a *'* n S these last on the head, aud saying, 
ful creature oft assumes in pursuit of her desires. * hank Providence, my dears, that you were not 
What inquisitive ways,—wlmt glaring tiger eyes born ‘ bea ”^ e8 ’ ’ 
she has. How envious of those outreaching her T " 
in their life-labor. What traitorous winks and „ 8B ;~ A " ldle aad vacant life, even with 
glances she caste, when her neighbor acts with- j ! th “ l amusem6nt can " ive > is ,10t c «l™‘ 
out consulting her wisdom. What 0 solemn latcd . , i u be a hap lW one: and this simply because 
countenance she will put on, to hide the hypoc- 1 , rovlllence has constituted us With, a view to ac- 
risy of her own disposition. Who ever saw her *, .**' " hal was to be the means of “ccummo- 
striving to cure the faulty, or correcting false im- datmg 1 >G “oterlala of the physical world to 
pressions. What a contrast between her mission 0ur naeda ‘ Id lencss, therefore, injures and dis¬ 
and that of Florence Nioiitingale. One striv- or S aB,2es i while activity alone will preserve 
ing to better human nature,-the other a sny upon !f alth ° r SeCUR ‘ lho Prolongation of life. Who, 
the earth, laboring to blacken character aud heap !p. may , f ked 111 one TVOrd ’ a,e lhe bft PPy? 
upon it a monument of lies. those who have something, and not too much, to 
Madam Gossip is a blind follower of her blind d .°’ tbat something being suitable to their fuCul- 
infatuations. She is n merciless intermeddle;- in ties and tastes - Who are the unhappy? Alas! 
everybody’s business but her own,—a prying, de- wbat a large P r ' nion the class is composed of 
tested defamer of character, having a tongue tll0se wbo > having all their ordinary needs snp- 
never tiring at its toil. She wears her chosen pli ° d fr0m 0tller soarces » do not need to labor! 
frovac ™l rl * C f S ' an i d - er , l30i ?° nOU8 wordg sthl - A woman must be very insensible who is not 
t y < visa lona cu t e, a our modern tea- moved to come upon a higher plane of being her- 
It matters not wheH 1 ^ bj SCCing b ° W l < ad °ubtiugly she is ir.sphered 
mutteis not whether her message is an accept- in the heart of a good and noble man. A good 
1 u “ dr “ 0tl l0r ^ cam ‘ ot , be R «P po8 ” d to man’s faith in you, fair lady, if you over have it, 
know that, other people have feelings, or that she will make von filter and ..J 
the world. Even when we are dead, when we 
have tilled the last page of life’s book, and passed 
silently away, our influence still remains, and, like 
the waves upon the sen, spreads and flows onward, 
until, on the shores of eternity, its breaksand 
heaves its account there. Ah! fearful must be 
such an account. And our life,—what must it be? 
It is sad to think of what it might be. Let our 
light shine bright, not being hid beneath the 
cloud of unhappiness, the mask of pride, or the 
reared the most fervent of false prophets in the 
arid vales of Arabia, the greatest religious re¬ 
formers among the cold heights of Germany, or 
the most fanatical of usurpers beside the monot¬ 
onous tens of Huntingdon. How intimate was 
the connection of the civil strife in Tuscany with 
the shadowy and sharp features of Dante's Muse, 
Of the sunny lassitude of southern Italy and 
France with the amorous melody of Petrarch’s 
and one more mandate will echo through them, 
that will consign all to oblivion. Of what do the 
shattered masts tell ? What voice have those 
creaking timbers, and sundering planks? What 
do the dirge-like sounds of the waves closing 
o'er them proclaim? All, all give back one 
answer, “ Theie are storms on life’s dark waters!” 
Youth, Manhood, Age,—venture not on the ocean 
without a pilot, or sacred compass,—an anchor 
cast within the vale where He who hushed Gali- 
flumbers, of the fiery passions and stern hardi- ' L- eV: angry waves has u crown of peace for all 
1 N . .. P , , _. MUIU.JVHJ, v* bum 0W LI 110.1 Ui* - O-J ” ” ' ““ ^A VZ »■ AA VZ1 1U1 oil 
£\: ,u 11 m ° d iai1 ^ ^position; l-'Ut, hood of Corsican lire with the indomitable will those who love his appearing, and a passport to 
n .*r* t.ho arm mot? if men no m ManA..r.,i ^ 4 *■ 
like the sun, may it rise calm and peaceful. Thus 
our morning of life will he happy, our noon honor¬ 
able and prosperous, and when the night of Death 
comes, with its chilling shadows, our sun will go 
down brilliant and beautiful,— our faith will guide 
and cheer us onward, and, in the glorious hope of 
a blissful immortality, we will sink calmly to rest. 
Oh, the good or evil which one life,— one little 
human life, that seems but a mere speck, when 
compared with the endless duration of eternity,— 
may bring forth. Ii is a serious, and yet a happy 
thought to contemplate. When we shall stand 
before the Judge of the Universe, ftDd the count¬ 
less millions that have lived on the earth like us 
and see the result of our lives, like sheaves in the 
of Napoleon! And who that knows New Eng¬ 
land, even as modified by a foreign population, 
by the facilities of modern intercourse and the 
liberality of an advanced civilization, does not 
recognize in the sagacity, prudence, hardihood, 
love of knowledge, industry, and practical con¬ 
sistency and wisdom of Franklin, the vigorous 
rest beyond. 
Fulton, N. Y,, 1860. 
J. A. Ingkll. 
Set thine House in Order.— Alas! for him 
who grows old without growing wise, and to 
whom the future world does uot set open her 
gates, when he is excluded bv the present. The 
training of that Spartan mother,—the self-reliant ^ ord deals so graciously with us in the decliue of 
disciple of that hard soil and rigid climate?— 
//. 7'. Tuckerman. 
Inalienable Rights. —Every woman ha 3 a 
right to be any age she pleases, for if' she were to 
state her real age no one would believe her. 
Every man has a right to wear a mustache who 
life, that it is a shame to torn a deaf ear to the 
lessons which he gives. The eye becomes dim, 
the ear dull, the tongue falters, the feet totted all 
the senses refuse to do their office, and from every 
side resounds the call, “Set thine house in order, 
for the term of thy pilgrimage is at hand.” The 
playmates of youth, the fellow-laborers of rnan- 
wliat a large portion of the class is composed of karves '> coming before us, it will be too late then can. Every woman, who makes puddings, has a hood, die away, and take the road before us. GTQ 
those who, having all their ordinary needs sup- a ^ er if wrong; and “as we have sown, so perfect right to believe that she can make a bet- age is like some quiet chamber, in which, diseon- 
will regard them, when destitute of all feeling | know it-Afo. Stowe. 
plied from other sources, do not need to labor! 
---- 
A woman must be very insensible who Is not 
moved to come upon a higher plane of being her¬ 
self, by seeing how uudoubtingly she is in sphered 
in the heart of a good and noble man. A good 
man s faith in you, fair lady, if you over have it, 
will make you Letter and nobler, even before von 
shall we reap.” Will any of that multitnde bless ter pudding than any other woman in tbe world. Reeled from the visible world, we can prepare in 
us and acknowledge us as having douepiuch good Everyman who carves, has a decided right to silence for the world that is unseen.— Thulock. 
for them,— or will they say, “ but for you I might think of himself by putting a few of the best bits -- 
now be happy. You led me from the path of aside. Every woman has a right to think her David's heart was more often out of tune than his 
returned with interest. Why is it that so many if her lover is by her side to catch her. 
composed by two men of a contrary humor.” 
