[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
MISUNDERSTOOD. 
BT MYKTA MAY. 
Oh! if this heavy veil were rent away, 
Which hides the mysteries of the human heart, 
How would the night be turned to perfect day, 
And doubts and fears, like swift-winged birds,depart. 
But, groping blindly through the gloomy night, 
We lose the happiness which might be ours; 
And crushing 'math our tread the hope-buds bright, 
We feel the thorns, where we had looked for flowers. 
Thus, wearily, through life we travel on, 
Seeking for happiness,—hut all In vain; 
Finding, too late, that joy wo might have won 
Will never come within our grasp again. 
Oh! pitying Father, let us clasp Thy hand 
As blindly through Life's wilderness we stray; 
Guide Tbou our feet, until at last we stand 
In the clear sunlight of Thy perfect Day. 
Then all this heavy darkness will be past 
When we have reached the far-off, peaceful shore; 
And oUr tried spirits And repose at last 
Where dark Distrust shall haunt us nevermore. 
Attica Center, N. Y., 1860. 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.J 
“WOMAN'S RIGHTS." 
Has she any? Certainly ! That fact was estab¬ 
lished beyond all controversy, long ago, by Lucy 
Stone and Mrs. Bi,oomer ; and their decisions 
carried into effect by numerous "lesser lights.” 
Poor, injured woman! Since these illustrious 
ones have risen up to assert your rights and dig¬ 
nity, how bright your horizon is beginning to 
grow! The day of your glory is undoubtedly ad¬ 
vancing; when you will exult in your power, and 
put oil' every vestige of the weak, inelllclent na¬ 
ture that has so long confined you to so narrow a 
sphere. But not quit? yet, we apprehend. 
No true woman wishes to become masculine, or 
would condescend to assume a character or posi¬ 
tion unbecoming to her sex. "In the beginning” 
Bhe was created the help-meet and counselor of 
man, but their fields of labor were distinct and 
different; and she roust be taking upon herself 
more responsibility than she is quite able to bear, 
if she wishes to assume the work of both. 
Woman has a great and glorious work to per¬ 
form; and if she perform that work well,—if she 
fulfill her mission ns faithful wife, mother, sis¬ 
ter, or friend,—she will find that each day, hour, 
and even minute, brings its duty, and each duty, 
well done, its blessing. We certainly have a deep 
interest in National affairs. We ought to be in¬ 
terested, and in this we may be "help-meets” by 
our opinions and suggestions; for there are few 
men so wise that they do not like the advice of 
their lady friends, — and profit by it, too. 
But would it be a pleasing sight, on “election 
day,” for instance, to sec the streets crowded with 
“strong-minded” women, throwing up their straw 
hats, and shouting "hurrah!” It would be lady¬ 
like, very. If we cannot trust to our lathers, hus¬ 
bands, and brothers, to make our laws and elect 
our officers, we had better rise up in arms, take 
the authority into our own bands, and send them 
into the parlor, nursery, and kitchen, to receive 
onr friends, rock the cradle, and make bread. 
Goodness! What a paradise home, would be! 
Nevertheless, woman Juis rights, and it is her 
“right” to assert them, when they are trampled 
under foot. There are those who arc thrown up¬ 
on their own resources for support, having no 
father or brother to lean upon. It is certainly the 
“right” of such to live. They might possibly 
exist by “working for their board,”—there is 
enough to do, but there are few who work just for 
the love ol' it. Wc all like the “ dimes,” and if we ( 
work for them they are ours by right. More than , 
this, if we do the work of a man, we aro entitled 
to his wages, and this we do not, by any means, 
obtain. In no particular is this inconsistency j 
more glaring, than in the instance of school¬ 
teaching. It is beneath the dignity of a young j 
man to accept the charge of a school for less ^ 
than twenty-five or thirty, and, more often, forty 
dollars per month, while a young lady may go in- f 
to the place he has occupied, and, by her gentle 
persuasiveness and keen susceptibility, do more 
toward awakening the minds of the pupils than 
he was capable of performing, and receive,—be¬ 
cause, forsooth, she is a woman, — at most, one • j 
third of his pay, notwithstanding her labor has 
been much more wearing, her strength being less . 
than his. There are a very few exceptions to 
this,—perhaps it will average one in fifty,—where „ 
ladies have spent long years in teaching,and hav- ( 
ing a pretty good gift of “ pleasing” everyone, . 
have acquired a reputation that will command a , 
trifle more. 
Of course, no lady should present herself as a 
teacher until she is qualified to act well in that 
capacity. There are scores of girls who attempt 
to “keep school," who would do better, and be t: 
happier, washing dishes for a living, than to take h 
l » ruien lor aioure g nurai isew -1 orKer.] 
MY TEACHER’S PRAYER. 
It was morning in winter. The wind moaned 
and shrieked around our dwellings, swept the 
slender arms of the shade-trees fiercely against 
our windows, and whirling and tossing the fast- 
falling snow-flakes, finally piled them in huge 
drifts at onr very doors. I sat by my study 
window and gazed without upon the storm, whose 
bitter wailings seemed to bo in perfect unison 
with my own thoughts and fetlingK. Yes, a more 
{Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] every disinterested act brings its immediate le- 
A CHICK-A-DEE SONG. ward. The simplest deed prompted by the spirit 
,, _ _ ... °f ^ rue benevolence is rewarded by as genuine a 
[fins. Rural: —I, your bumble correspondent,formerly n r f . 
of mack Rock, in dear old York Slate,. now ,.n a vl„u ‘‘j* 111 ° f f,al,sractio " a * ^companies the mostmu- 
to the ficlde and ptnerle* of Michigan; and HHW flat/Oo D,ficent cbant y- the general scramble for 
and nay 1* aUays entertaining. b«> gracious enough to wea * tb 8nf l pewt r, few can shine conspicuously; 
examine, and (if yon like) publish the accompanying n ” 0,,e is ®0 humble but, he may do some good. 
ouvc-aaav, uuauy pueu wmm .unuge dialogue between a little c.fltck-a-dee and myself. Lying 
drills at our very doors. I sat by my study at fail length upon tho ground in the woods, thi» little 
window and gazed without upon the storm, whose aongeter hopped down to my parahoi, peered into my 
bitter wailings seemed to be in perfect unison fane with the moat evident curiosity, pulled my dree*, 
with ray own thoughts and fetlingK. Yes, a more lllKi twi,c b*‘ 1 my hair with a* much freedom a*, if I had 
furious storm, a wilder conflict, was raging with- b ‘”' u a veritable blackberry bosh, and he were seeking 
sSli! 
South Livonia, N, Y., I860. j 
rWritten for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] [Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
THE POET AND THE PHILOSOPHER. MINE. 
-— BY ROSBLIA. 
1 HE Rural of May 19th contained a spicy ar- “I, the heir of all the agcsTffi the foremost files of time ' 
tide on this subject, and one which cannot litil to M ,.v* are earth's elyrian place, 
interest the lovers of good reading, yet wo must, Guarded by the lovely Graces; 
respectfully dissent from tho conclusion arrived Filled with treasures rare and olden, 
at by the writer. All will admit, that “ both the of the ancient time, and golden, 
poet and the philosopher exert a great influence Brought to ns in song and story, 
upon the destinies of our race;” and that both Radiant with mysterious glory. 
will continue to exercise a mighty power over the MlDe the W0, M * Vll8t store of beaut ?) 
?_t,,l » 4 _„ . - „ Records both of love and dutvi 
inhabitants of earth, Is equally evident. The Mine the wealth of all the ages 
first rays of light penetrating the darkness that Gathered in historic paee9l _ 
enshrondftd the ancient world, emanated from the Hoarded worth of men who perished, 
poets. The laws of some Of the nations of anti- But who left the truth they cherished; 
quity were written in poetry, and for this reason Glowing picture* iu ideal,— 
they were more easily remembered. The poets Visions, which shall yet be real,— 
and oiators “of the most ancient times” were Glorious hop--, of future being 
almost the only instructors of the great mass of TT 
the people The plebmns of Greece and Rome Mine the progress of the nations; 
.were delighted with the recitations of the poets Yea, and more than these are mine,— 
for it required little knowledge to understand them; All the promises Divine, 
but the more intelligent were charmed by the Mine the unfading youth above, 
wisdom of the philosophers. In those davs the Mine the Heavnnly Father’s love; 
poets were in the ascendant, but as civilization Mine the crown, the peace, the home; 
advanced poetry declined, and it will continue to * I,n ® th * e . ternaI yearB "f come ' 
be ess influential as the world advances in science I arn ric h. for these are mine- 
and solid literature. Hastings, N. Y., 1860. 
Poetry is the language of passion, embellished -*♦-.- 
by the imagination ; hut philosophy is the eluci- RELIGIOUS WANTS OF A BUSY LIFE 
dation of truth, obtained by experiment. This __. 
science is now taught in all of our colleges, our Social action, and material enterprise, and ag- 
seminaries, in most ol our common schools, and gressive discovery, which are the grand charac- 
cost ly apparatus is used to demonstrate its prin- teristics of modern society, bring along with 
ciples. These facts prove, beyuml the possibility them the hazard of an irreligious self-reliance, 
of a doubt, that ” in modern limes” the discourse a skepticism about all that is invisiblo and im 
of the philosopher is more listened to than the palpable to sense, and a feverish propensity to 
song of the poet. Arcbimideb, Aristotle, 8o- judge everything by Its show and its return?. 
crates, and Plato, will never be forgotten while So the bulk of our enterprise outgrows its 
science has a votary; and the names of Galileo strength; and in the pride of all his pushing 
and C’onsRNjcus will ’ver be placed in the schemes, and marvellous machinery, man comes 
brightest constellation of the worthies'that oc- to esteem himself little less than a critic of 
in my breast,—a school-mate bad that morning 
uttered sharp, provoking words, I had retorted, 
the pool of passion had been stirred, and its 
t- angry waves were dashing fearfully against the 
chambers of my soul. 
Presently, above the roar of the elements, 
sounded the academy bell. I threw on bonnet 
and shawl, and seizing my books, rushed hastily 
forth into the blinding storm, unmindful of its 
fury. 1 entered the school-room and took my scat 
moody and silenL Every thing there wore a 
cheerful and happy look; a bright fire diffused a 
comfortable degree of warmth through the room. 
Our kind toucher sat at her desk smiling and af¬ 
fable, and merry school-mates were grouped to¬ 
gether, complimenting each other on thair fleecy 
appearance, retailiugthe last bit of village gossip, 
or listening attentively to the recital of school¬ 
girl's secrets. 
Soon wc were summoned to attend the chapel 
exercises. I entered with the rest aud took my 
usual scat After a few preliminary remarks our 
beloved professor opened the “ Book of Books,” 
and read aloud from its holy pages. He was an 
old man, his head was crowned with tho snows of 
age, aud his voice possessed a richness of tone, a 
depth of feeling, which I have seldom heard 
equalled ,—never surpassed. And now, as he read 
the words of "Holy Writ,” they seemed invested 
with a deeper sanctity, and fell upon my heart with 
a soothing, tranqnillzlng power, like “oil upon 
the troubled waters.” He closed the book and 
Imwcd bis head in prayer.. He prayed forus—the 
company of youth then and there assembled,— 
that we might walk in the paths of wisdom and 
holiness, in the footsteps of Him who was "meek 
and lowly of heart,”—that we might dwell to¬ 
gether in “ brotherly unity,” and if any was har¬ 
boring ought against his fellow, he might be led 
to forgive as lie would be forgiven. When he 
closed, tears, burning penitential tears, were fall¬ 
ing through ray clasped fingers. My anger was 
gone. That prayer was as the “still small voice” 
of llie Savior, saying “Peace, be still.” And 
there was a calm. 
Not many years have passed since then, but I 
trust many will pass ere the memory of that 
prayer, and the impression which it made, be ef¬ 
faced from my mind. My teacher still lives,—still 
takes his accustomed seat in the school-room,— 
Btill offers the morning prayer, " holy, acceptable 
unto Goil,” May his labors be ubunduntly bless¬ 
ed,— may his prayers reach the hearts of liis err¬ 
ing students,— and when lie shall have finished 
Ins earth-work,— when bis lust prayer shall have 
ascended to the throne of the Most High,— may 
he receive as an answer the welcome plaudit,— 
“Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou 
into the joy of thy Lord.” Jessie June. 
Concord, Pa., I860. 
-- 
TELL YOUR WIFE. 
If you are in any trouble or quandary, tell your 
wife—that is, if you have one—all about it at 
once. Ten to one her invention will solve your 
difficulty sooner than all your logic. The wit of 
woman has been praised, but her instincts are 
quicker and keener than her reason. Counsel 
with your wife, or your mother, or sister, and be 
assured that light will flash upon your darkness. 
Women are too commonly adjudged as verdant in 
all but purely womanish affairs. No pliilosbphi- 
cal student of the sex thus judges them. Their 
intuitions, or insight, arc the most subtle, and if 
they cannot sec a cat in the meal, there is no cat 
there. In counseling to tell his trouble to his 
wife, we would go further, and advise him to keep 
none of his affairs secret from her. Many a home 1 
has been happily saved, and many a fortune ' 
retrieved by man's full confidence in his “better- 
half." Woman is far more a seer and prophet 
than man, if she be given a fair chance. As a 
general rule, wives confide the minutest of their 
plans and thoughts to their husbands, having no 
involvements to screen from him. Why not recip- ' 
rocate, if but for the pleasure of meeting confi¬ 
dence with coufidcnce7 We are certain that no * 
man succeeds so well in the world as he who, f 
taking a partner for life, makes ber the partner of 
all his purposes and hopes. What is wrong of his 
impulses or judgment, she will check and set '' 
right with her almost universally right instincts, ? 
“ Help meet” was no insignificant title, as applied 
to man’s companion. She is a meet help to him ® 
in every darkness, difficulty, and sorrow of life, 
And what she most craves and most deserves, is ° 
confidence —without which love is never free from 1 
a shadow. 
-- ii 
Wife vs. Lady.— It is certainly not in good ^ 
taste for a gentleman to speak of his wife as his h 
tint therewithal to witihfy hln hunger; or, »till more | ^ HK of May 19th contained a ppicy ar- 
likely,aa if be Were hunting fi,r material to build hl« uent tlclfi 0,1 this subject, and one which cannot fail to 
With, Think of that! The wiucy little Beuedict! Aud interest the lovers of good reading, yet we must 
I an old —a blooming maiden, of—guess wbat age. That respectfully dissent from the conclusion arrived 
he should presume to steal my gray—I mean brown- at b y the writer. A1 , w ;„ admjt t)l , lt ,, bQth ^ 
hairs, to go to housekeeping with, I'd never have for- . „ , ,, , 
given him had he not rung all tho while *o delightfully. ^ ^ P h,Iost 'P her ext ”t a great influence 
Ilia example was Contagious, and I sung lu respon/e. u P on 110 destinies of our race;” aud that both 
Since all the bird* listened to him, why should not all continue to exercise a mighty power over the 
the “lad* and lassies," young ami blooming like myself, inhabitants of earth, la equally evident. The 
lixti-n to me? I'm a* good an a little noisy chick-a-dee first rays of light penetrating the darkness that 
any day. Youra, tunetnliy, A. T. J ] enshrouded the ancient world, emanated from the 
•‘Chick-a-dee-doo-des-dee dee!" poets. The laws of some Of the nations of anti- 
Now What have you come to see? quity were written in poetry, and for this reason 
Wtthjour scholarly “ tblnkthv-cap’’ that lies, they were more easily remembered. The poets 
Black an a coal, above jour eyes, , . .... 
in, n ii t. ., . . , and oiators “of the most ancient times” were 
Like a College-President s comical crown , . . , . vurt 
When he sii« in stiff commencement gown, almost the only instructors of the great mass of 
And blinks as knowiugly as though the People. J he plebinnH of Greece and Rome 
He’d fathomed all deep streams below. .were delighted with the recitations of the poets 
Ah! ymi are as wise asis'- for it required little knowledge to understand them' 
Chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee! but the more intelligent were charmed by the 
Chick-a-dee! chick-a-dee-dee-dee! wisdom of the philosophers. In those days the 
Well, what do you thiDk of me, poets were in the ascendant, but as civilization 
Little philosopher: Here t lie advanced poetry declined, and it will continue to 
Quietly under your studious eye. be less influential as the world ad vances in science 
While you peer aud ponder, and noisily shout, an d eo H(j literature. 
Cannot you ferret the uivsterv out? r, . • .1 ■ 
Saw you ever so queer a ‘thing , P ° et ' 7 18 the lan 8 ,lfl K e of P as9 '”"- embellished 
Out of the green earth blossoming? tbe 1IIia »ination; but philosophy is the eluci- 
Is it plant, or shrub, or tree, dation of truth, obtained by experiment. This 
Chick-a-dee! chick-a-dee-dee-dee? science is now taught in all of our colleges, our 
“ Chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee'” seminaries, in most of our common schools, and 
How dare you make so free? ' C0E,ly is used to demonstrate its prin- 
PuIUng so petulantly at my dress— ciples. These facts prove, beyond the possibility 
What U it, pretty one? Cannot you guess? a doubt, that “ in modern times” the discourse 
Then you must do a« learned gentlemen do, of the philosopher is more listened to than the 
And batter the wall you may never get through, 
With so many hotiih-shellw of ponderous words 
That you <|iilto bewilder the ignorant birds 
Who are listening to you and me. 
And they cry “ Chick-a-dee, D. D.” 
“ Chick-a-doe-dee-dee-dee-dee!” 
' What a musical hurst of glee! 
Fery improper! Haven't you heard, 
Curious little, pedantic bird, 
Certain chick-a-dee gossips say 
J'arsnns shouldn’t be light and gay? 
Aud dad in your sober, clerical coat, 
With a white cravat around your throat, 
Do you know you are preaching to me, 
Chick-a-dee, cbick-a-dee-dee? 
“ Chick-a-dee-deo-dee-dec-dee!” 
How many a thing we see, 
And babble about with busy tongue, 
That puzzles the old, as well as the young; 
And who with flutter and noisy shout 
Could ferret eec'y mystery out, 
And weigh in the delicate scale of mind 
Each new and wonderful tiling we find? 
Such little philosophers we! 
Chick-a-dee, chick-a-dco-dee-dee! 
Genesee County, Mich., 1860. 
mm 
31 
cupy the most conspicuous niche in the rotunda 
of the temple of fame. 
The name of Benjamin Franklin, will be handed 
down to the remotest generation, ami Robert 
Fulton will he remembered so long as the proud 
steamer floats on the majestic Hudson, or plows 
her way through the waters of the trackless ocean. 
Revelation amt co-partner with the Almighty, 
whom the church of Christ ought to consider 
herself much beholden to, if he condescends to 
say kind things of her, und whom God himself 
cannot fkil to covet as an ally for so much busi¬ 
ness and motion, if indeed there is any other 
God than the sclenoe that perfects the engine, 
I’rof. Morse has achieved greater renown among and the motive-power that turns the factory- 
the nations of the earth than any of the ancient wheel. As long as you can preach to such a man 
or modern poets. Who can properly estimate the about his . stupendous capacity, and stimulate 
benefits conferred on the human race by the many his arrogant activity, he hears. But Ml him of 
vast discoveries of Sir Isaac Newton. Humbolt, the deep things of God, of self-renunciation and 
the “Napoleon of science,” has more readers and repentance, yf a cross and a consecration, of 
admirers throughout, the world, than all of his silent worship and solemn faith, of resting in 
poetic contemporaries. Thomas Hick, the great the Hurd, and waiting patiently for him,—and 
Christian philosopher, has contributed more to yon seem to clash against his glorious career 
the snm total of human knowledge than all the °f aggrandizement All the more do we need 
poets of his generation. Wc say, in conclusion, this deeper ami stiller elemeut in our piety, 
that the philosophers of our own generation have We want not only to work, but to believe that 
been more potent for good than the poets. God in Christ works, and with mightier forces 
Mt. Morriii, N. Y., 18(H). N. B. ament. than we; works througli and by us, or without 
*'•"*- uu, as he will; and that we are at best but inapt 
HOME LIFE. and incompetent instruments in his hands. “Be 
- still, and know that I am God!”—let our loud 
If home life is well ordered, the children hav- march of audacious civilization hearken to that, 
ing, according to age, working time, play time, — /. J). Huntington, D. D. 
books, games, aud household sympathies, they -•-•-_ 
will love home, and find pleasure there. . The Religion of Paying Debts.— One of the 
Give the little ones Mates and pencils, and en- religious papers has the following strong remarks 
courage their attempts to make pictures. Draw- on this subject. They drive the nail up to the 
ing will amuse them when noisy plays have loBt head, and clinch it:—“ Men may sophisticate as 
their zest, or are unseasonable; and the art will they please. They can never make it right, and 
HOME LIFE. 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
THE MOST EASILY ATTAINABLE AMBITION. 
The reason why so many lives end in disappoint- be useful to them in after life. Have them read all ll.c bankrupt laws in the Universe cunnot make 
ment and regret, is because they have been spent to each other stories and paragraphs of your selec- it right for them not to pay their debts. There is 
mtLepnrauitof selfish, unworthy aims. Oi those tlon, and save the fanny things and the pleasant a sin in neglect as clear and deserving of church 
who live chiefly for personal aggrandizement,- ones you see in papers and books to read to them at discipline as in stealing or false swearing. He 
whose minds are all intent on the acquirement of your leisure. You can not imagine how much it who violates his promise to pay or withholds the 
great wealth, or power, or tame, for its own sake, will please them, and how it will bind them to payment of a debt When it is in his power to 
regardless of the beneficent uses to which each you. But choose well for them; for the impres- meet Ins engagement, ought to be made to feel 
may be applied, but lew reach the goal of their 8 ion made on their minds now will last when the that in the sight of all honest men he is a swin- 
desires. Giuebuses are rare; kings. Emperors, hills crumble. Have them sing together, and dler. Religion may be a very comfortable cloak 
and I residents, do not abound; aud the least sing with them, teaching them songs and hymns, under which to hide; hut if religion does not 
promising way of striving to acquire fame Is to Let them sing all day—like the birds —at all make a man deal justly, it is not worth having.” 
la an solely lor that end. Disappointment is the proper times. Have them mutually interested in __ 
natural result of selfishness; the self-seeker the same things —amusements aud occupations; Gems of Wisdom.—F ew men are so utterly re- 
X C tbiim!ffie. bje WhlCh arC ’ ^ h, “' EeneraI1 * having specified times for each, so that their liab- probate, so imbruted by their vices, as not to 
*pi,« ...,1 . . , , , its will be orderly, Let them work together in have some lucid, or at least qniet and sober inter- 
Din as of life To T ^!'\ 8 tlie ^ bap ‘ the garden-boys and girls-both need oubof- yuls; and in such momenta few can stand up un- 
p ness of life. To possess vast richeMo distance door work. Together let them enjoy their games, shaken against the appeal to their own elri- 
a competitors in the race lor worldly honors, riddles, etc.,-all their plays, books, and work- enee,-what have been the wages of Z What 
hcMht of l* 1 ' i r r 8 J0Uth |' the WMIe the pareut8?eyesciirect aad »y*i»thiae f and has the devil done for you? What sort of master 
p^! f v h yft lC y; their loud voices blend in loving accord. have von found him? Then let us, in befitting 
ever large his gams in material goods, they are __ ...... , ’ , . 
mrn unsatisfactory in son... within. ,„„ Im f , .1 * •** 
Gems of Wisdom. —Few men are so utterly re¬ 
probate, so imbruted by their vices, as not to 
have some lucid, or at least quiet and sober inter¬ 
vals; and in such momenta few can stand up un- 
he would have; and, in toiling merely to obtain a 
great name, one overlooks and neglects the con¬ 
ditions on which honors are bestowed. The suc¬ 
cessful seeker after wealth, failing to find in his 
possessions the full measure of satisfaction he ex¬ 
pected, supposes that his lack of happiness is ow¬ 
ing to an iusnfficiency of riches, and so he ad¬ 
dresses himself with renewed energy to increase 
*■*- detail, and by a series of questions that ask not 
Beautiful Paragraph.— Sir Humphrey Davy loud, and are secure against any false answer, 
writes:—"I envy no quality of the mind and in- urge home the proof of the position, that to he 
tellect in others, be ii genius, power, wit or fancy; vicious is to be wretched; adding the fearful cor- 
but if I could choose what would be most beau- ollary, that if oven in the body vice is found to 
tiful, and 1 believe most useful to me, I should 
prefer a firm religious belief to any other bless¬ 
ing; for it makes life a discipline of goodness; 
varnishes aud throws over the decay—the destruc¬ 
tion—of existence, the most gorgeous of all light ; 
be misery, what must it not be iu the world to 
come?—where nothing of vice remains hut its 
guilt and misery.— Coleridge. 
• --- 
There is a vast value in genuine biography. It 
npable of filling the office. It is an ionable vulgarity, and invariably betrays a lack narue by vulgar show aud noise. 
to keep school, who would do better, and be taste for a gentleman to speak of his wife as his his means; the aspirant to fame, unsatisfied with awakens new life, even death; makes an instru- is good to have real views of what life is, and 
happier v ashing dishes for a living, than to take lady or to register their names upon the books the taint applause that follows his words or deeds, men t of torture and shame the ladder of ascent what Christian life may be. It is good to famil- 
th \r, T 0f ® 89 “ JOhn Sadth and W 01 t0 ask : D8tea ? 0 tr * Vhlg t0 dC8me the praise of his fel - to Paradise; and far above ail combinations of. iarize ourselves with ,be history of those whom 
not LiaTm f n.w tT ^ a ^ iS y0m ’ laJy? ' r This 53 al1 fasb ' l0WS \ 7 ' f‘ ithfBl Service ’ seeks to win a earthly homes, calls up the most beautiful visions God has pronounced the salt of the earth. We 
f Itl8an liable vulgarity, and invariably betrays a lack name by vulgar show and noise. of the palms and amaranths, in the gardens of the cannot help contracting good from such associa- 
TI Zhr r ufi trnT cul J t,vatl0n ' The *'> is )ar mo 'e beauti- But the ambition and the striving to do good blest, and the security of everlasting joys, where tions. How a human spirit contrived to get its 
Sh ?f U d -raT UP °V* ill ftnd a P pr opn>‘te and refined, whatever may be never disappoint. The largest philanthropy, in- the sensualist views only gloom, decay, annihila- life accomplished in thin confused world-v.hat a 
duties without askiu herself, with deep solici- said l0 the contrary. Suppose a lady were to say, is not permitted to see, except with the eye tiou and despa i r .u ' man like L, and yet no common man, felt, did, 
tude, what manner of 6pint am I of ?” Bat the instead of “ my husband.” “ my gentleman f or of faith, the full realization of its labors and its —-~- suffered-how he fought, and how he connuered - 
first step toward elevating the standard of female suppose we were to speak of “Mrs. Fitz Maurice ho P es ; but tb o anticipation of an improved con- P K n>E.-In beginning the world, if yon don't if we could only gel°a clear possession and firm 
teachers, m to f ^ Tbca ' ,be y cau and her gentleman.” The thing would be posi- dition of the human race, and the consciousnes-s wish to get chafed at every turn, fold your grasp or that, we should have -ot almost all that 
afford to qualify themselves thoroughly for the lively ludicrous, aud its obverse is none the less ^ bav i«« contributed to that end, afford the am- pride carefully, put it under lock and key, and is worth having in truth, with the technicalities 
W0r ^/ldnc!rin« 1 ^ 0 sWlv B b 1 tt? 8b 1 t ’ tb f ^ M n ’ glUly consJdere ^ A wife is liis plest satisfaction for all toil, and every so-called let it out to air on grand occasions. Pride is a stripped off; for what is the use of truth, except 
cause ol education slowly mt surely adyanc- wife, and not his lady, and we marvel that this sacrifice. And the world offers room for the ex- garment, all stiff brocade outside, all grating to teach man how to live l-Robertson. 
ing, and just as soon as the patrons of schools latter term is not utterly tabooed, in such a con- ^cise of every form aud degree of benevolence, sackcloth on the side next to the skin. Even-_ 
conclude to loosen their purse-strings, the millen- nectiou, at least by educated and intelligent No need for any one to sit and pine for lack of kings don f t. wear the dalmaticum except at coro- Our Best Pt.EAs._Our best pleas in prayer are 
mm ot schouls will begin. _ _ people. opportunity to benefit others. Whatever one’s nations.— Bulwer. those that are fetched from the ^lorr of God’B 
Iik«, N. 1SC0. ^ I rederika F «NV) OOP. _ . \ sphere, whether exalted or lowly, it is in his -—- own name. Lord, do it, that thy mercy may be 
Life is short— in it are manv thorns — let ns arc like f ftl 7 ' om and beau ^ ul ^ ips ’ P°wer to do what will be in a greater or less de- Perfect virtue is to do unwitnessed what we magnified, thy promise fulfilled, and thine interest 
not neglect any of its flowers._ Bulwer. ^ _ -1 ‘ eis crawling from the blushing gree a blessing to those around him. The ambi- should be capable of doing before the whole in the world kept up. We have nothing to plead 
103 I tion to do good can always be gratified; and world .—La Rochefoucauld. in ourselves, but everything in thee. _ Henry. 
tude, "what manner of spirit am I of ?” But the 
first step toward elevating ti ic standard of female 
teachers, is to raise their wages. Then, they can 
afford to qualify themselves thoroughly for the 
work. It is an encouraging thought, that the 
cause of education is slowly but surely advanc¬ 
ing, and just as soon as the patrons of schools 
suffered—how he fought, and how he conquered,— 
if we could only get a clear possession and firm 
grasp of that, we should have got almost all that 
is worth having iu truth, with the technicalities 
stripped off; for what is the use of truth, except 
not neglect any of its flowers.— Bulwer. 
heart of a rose. 
Our Best Pleas, —Our best pleas in prayer are 
those that are fetched from the glory of God’s 
own name. Lord, do it, that tby mercy may be 
magnified, thy promise fulfilled, and thine interest 
in the world kept up. We have nothing to plead 
in ourselves, but everything in thee. — Henry. 
