208 
m 
mm so. 
V^v*=r\I 
[■Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
SHADOWS. 
BT JK.S'NT A. STONE. 
Over the brook the willows droop, 
And » mournful Guide they cast, 
But the sunbeams dance on the meadow tide, 
And the breer.es wander past, 
Dnder the willows they said farewell, 
And never again on caith 
Shall a loving word or n happy smile 
Bring joy to the cottage hearth. 
False were the Ups that breathed the prayer— 
False were the vows they spoke— 
And the marriage blessing was but a curse 
To the gentle heart it broke. 
Out from the sunshine into the shade, 
Went heart, and soul, and life, 
When she took at the holy altar side 
The vows that bound ber—wife. 
Out from the willows' gloomy shade, 
And into the sunbeams' glow, 
She has passed with a spirit bowed and worn, 
And a face like the winter's snow. 
But she cannot forget the heart that loved, 
And the hopes that are crushed for aye— 
So the shadows follow forever more, 
And the sunbeams flee away. 
Grand Rapids, Mich., I860. 
- — - 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
WOMAN’S WORTH. 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
LITTLE ELLA. 
Like a sunbeam she came to earth, all radiant 
in her beauty,— a little singing bird, to warble in 
the heart home nest,— a tiny bud, to blossom in 
the garden love had made. Very beautiful was 
little Eli.a, and dearer to their hearts she grew, 
as, day by day, new charms unfolded. Summer 
came, and went, while her silvery laugh rang 
clear and wild,- Old Winter came round; yet 
ruddier grew her cheek, beneath bis icy kiss, and 
brighter the sparkle in ber eye. Again the days 
grew long and warm,—light, and sunshine glad¬ 
dened all the earth. But brighter far than they 
was little Eu, a, a tiny fairy in the household, 
banishing all care and sorrow, while love and joy 
arouud her pathway bloomed. Once more, be¬ 
neath the chilling frosts of winter faded summer’s 
flowers,—the bright-winged songsters soughttheir 
Southern homes,—while Em-a, shielded by Love’s 
warm embrace, longed for no sunnier clime, as 
merrily she carroled her gladsome song. But 
when spring, with her smiling train appeared, 
there came a messenger who whispered softly, 
“Child, thy Father calls thee, stay not here." 
Yes, another voice, to swell the chorol min¬ 
strelsy of heaven,—another hand to Bweep the 
spirit lyre was wanted, and an angel waa sent to 
summon home the little one,—the one whose 
presence had made such joy and gladness in our 
midst. Gently she passed away to the spirit 
world, amid the tearful farewells of those who s« 
fondly cherished her. When the violet first 
peeped from its lowly bed, and the snow-drop 
filled the air with its fragrance, a little grave was 
made beneath the willow. There was the wor¬ 
shiped, the idolized one laid. 0, how changed 
the household,—darkness was over all, the sun- 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker] 
JUNE. 
BT LIBBY NEAL. 
Sweet Sister or the gentle May, 
As sweet as hers tliy beaming smile — 
Thy merry laugh is quite as gay, 
And thy soft voice as free from guile. 
Thy jewelled fingers garlands twine 
To bind upon thy hiuahtng brow, 
And diamond dew-drops brightly shine,— 
Amid thy locks they're shining now. 
Tby sunny pathway in *o bright, 
A fairy there might fearless tread; 
O'ergrowu it is with roses white, 
There for tby gliding footsteps spread. 
Thou seemest like a maiden gay, 
With joys of free and careless years, 
Whose life is like & summer's day— 
Who ne'er has known life’? bitter tears; 
Whose gentle spirit Love hath bound 
With golden chain to all things pure — 
Who joy in Virtue’s way hath found. 
From whence no tempting vilca may lure; 
Whose Life amid Earth’* bestlDg storms 
Knows naught but sur.shine glad and free; 
No cloud obscures, no fear alarms— 
Calm June, thus seem'st thou to me. 
Wyandotte, Wayno Co., Mich., 1860. 
mm 
x 
have long since agreed in assigning “The Task"’ 
a prominent part in English literature. Thou¬ 
sands have laughed over the adventures of “John 
Gilpin.’* Toe person who can see no beauty in 
the lines that he addressed to Mrs. Unwin, only 
affords evidence of his own want of taste. But 
he deserves still higher praise for the use that he 
has made of bis poetical powers. It is not tell, 
ing all the truth, to say, that there is not a line 
in his writings which is calculated to leave a 
stain upon the mind. He had a strong sympathy 
with bis race, and was always ready lo shed a 
tear over the suffering. How burning are his 
denunciations of the slave trade, and of oppres¬ 
sion in every form. But he was not satisfied with 
anything short of ibe Inculcation of the distin¬ 
guishing doctrines of Christianity. His great 
object seems to be, to allure his readers to heaven. 
Bristol, Ken. Co., Wis., 1860. S. L. Leonard. 
A PICTURE OF THE WOODS. 
The following descriptive passage from the 
“Professor’s Story” in the JoJy number of the 
Atlantic Monthly, is one of the finest pictures 
I)r. Holmes ever painted: 
“The woods are all alive to one who walks 
through them with his mind in sn excited slate, 
and his eyes and ears wide open. The trees are 
always talking, not merely whispering with their 
leaves, (for every tree talks to itself in that way, 
even when it stands alone in the middle of a 
pasture,) hut grating theig boughs against each 
other, as old horn-handed farmers press their 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker J 
A HYMN. 
BY L. CARVER. 
Our Father, and our Lord divine, 
So merciful and good, 
To thee we look, and ever find 
The source of heavenly food. 
Give us strong miods and honest hearts 
To thread the path of life, 
That we escape those wiley arts 
Which lead to road'ning strife. 
Oh, may we know thy goodness, Lord, 
And ever thankful be 
For all the blessings of Thy word, 
And give our hearts to Thee. 
And when we leave those Ills and cares 
That cluster on our way, 
Our spirits, Lord, wilt thou prepare, 
To live in endless day, 
Saline, Mich., 1860, 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
“I'M GOING HOME TO-MORROW.” 
“I'm going home to-morrow,” said ft joyous- 
dry, rustling palms together—dropping u nut, or hearted school-girl. “I’m tired of this round of 
_ tne nousenoia,—darkness was over all,— the eun- 
Ebknezer Elliott uttered a great truth v hen shine had departed,—* the birdling from Its nest 
he sang, 
“ Wait, boastful tpan! though worthy are thy deeds, when 
thou art true, 
Things worthier still, and holier far, our sister yet 
will do.” 
By the proper consideration of the part which 
she acts, those who put a small estimate upon the 
worth of woman’s influence in elevating mankind, 
may have their opinions corrected. “The cburac- 
had flown,—the hud, whoso blossom promised to 
be so beautiful, had been transplanted to another 
and a fairer garden. But amid the sadness of the 
mourners came a voice, whispering, “again may 
ye meet her.” Meet her in that beauteous lund ; 
where partings arc unknown,—where the tear o! 
sorrow is never shed,—where the voice of mourn¬ 
ing never comes. Again the star of hope shone 
brightly oVr their way,—joy beamed within the 
teristlc qualities of womaD, —when true to the mother’s eye, the father’s step once more grew 
type of her being,—are charms for men, through firm. Ah, who shall say that little Ella was not 
which man gets unspeakable good to his own indeed an angel? Her mission here to lead our 
nature,” says Dr. Olhuam, and so Bay we. Ruling thoughts to high and holy things,—to draw our 
by love, she sways an almost omnipotent scepter hearts from earth to heaven. m. t. it. 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
. C0WPER. 
The lives of but few of the literary men of 
England were more interesting than was that of 
the author of “The Task.” He was born at 
Great Bcrkhamstead, on the loth of November, 
(O. 8.,) 1731, and was about seven years old when 
his mother died. There is no danger or this 
lady being forgotten by the world, for her son 
has embalmed her memory in a poem which will 
be read as long as there arc those who appreciate 
the productions of genius. In 1741 he was placed 
in Westminster School. His life at ibis school 
a leaf, or ft twig, clicking to the tap of a wood¬ 
pecker, or rustling as ft S(|tiirrcl flashes along a 
branch. It was now the season of singing-birds, 
and the woods were haunted with mysterious, 
tender music. The voices of the birds which 
love the deeper shades of the forest, arc sadder 
than those of the open fields; these are the nuns 
that have taken the veil, the hermits that have 
hidden themselves nwny from the world, and tell 
school duties, and I shall soon rest with the loved 
ones.” The school-books were packed away pre¬ 
paratory to an early start in the morning, and the 
fair young creature lay down to sleep and dream 
of “home, sweet home.” Vain, delusive dream. 
Ere the morning dawned, a fever burned in her 
veins, ftnd in its deliriom passed the hours of the 
anticipated “ to-moirow,” And was she, so young 
and gay, to spend no happy morrows in the future? 
their griefs to the infinite listening Silences of Only those she spends in heaven. Death had set 
the wilderness,—for the one deep inner silence 
that Nature breaks with her fitful superficial 
sounds, becomes multiplied as the image of a 
Star ift rutiled waters. Strange! The woods ut 
first convey the impression of profound repose, 
and yet, if you watch their ways with open ear, 
you find the life which is in them is restless and 
nervous as that of a woman; the little twigs are 
his seal upon the fair brow, and now she rests 
'neatb the clods of the valley. 
“I shall be home to-morrow,” said a sailor. 
“How glad Mother will be to see me, after so long 
an absence.” He retired to his hammock. 
“ He dreamed ofliie borne, of ilia dear native bowers, 
And the pleasure* that waited on life's merry morn." 
over the destinies of the race. While pride, and 
wealth, and fame, have been luring fallen men 
onward in the by-paths of folly, woman has ever 
been near, mitigating human woe by the charities 
which sweeten the cup of life,—annealing man’s 
iron heart by her gentle nature, and gradually Trifles! Pshaw on trifles! What difference no partb 
winning him toward the path in which he should does it make if I did punish that pupil for acci- muc h uu 
walk, by her gentle and silent influence, like an dentally spilling her ink? It will be forgotten a than to C 
angel of mercy. week hence. time t]m 
The influence of woman is indefinitely greater Porgottm ! No! the injured one will never shadow o 
than that of the preacher in moulding the charac- forgot that unjust, that wicked treatment. And, xife first 1 
ter of mankind, advancing the interests of Chris- perhaps, the-one so khoughtlessly wronged, was it has been 
tianity, and hastening the ultimate triumph of favorite who had confided in you as a sister. [ lavo aae 
truth. Her power arises from the controlling But how that loving child is a cold and uncom- pressiotis 
influence which she has in training, and giving munieativc creature, whose trust in all is shaken, flanlly tl 
direction to, the unfolding powers of mind and an d over whoso bouI a cloud has been cast, thro’ toward L 
heart. The destiny of the child may he deter- which no snn can penetrate or dispel. Andt)! hastened 
mined, almost, by the mother,—the inscriptions it is yon, you who has wrought this sad change,_ j,j 8 a p,. r 
which Bhe traces upon the tablet of the heart will you that drove that little heart into its own duucht -r 
be legible through the mists of years; lor the bosom, there to beat out its life, locked in with its ) J1( | v\s f t 
waves of time can never wholly efface them, own thoughts. And this wus all done by the intm uur 
Buther influence is not exerted in the home-eirclo want of a little self-control. retained 
alone. Many stunted ones have shown, in every age, Then, after all, this trifle of yours proves to be But the c 
that woman can accomplish much, in upholding n grievous sin, only to be forgotten in eternity matters t 
the hands of God's servant, when actuated by the Let this be a warning, and us a monitor whose into the 
Maysville, Ky., 1860 . 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
LITTLE THINGS. 
was anything else than pleasant, for he was not crossing, and twining and separating like Blender 
one who could light his way through among a lingers that cannot be still; the stray leaf is to 
set of tough hoys, lie, himself, tells us of one be flattened into its place like a truant curl* the 
boy of whom be constantly stood in dread. limbs sway arid twist, impatient of their con- 
In 174f), at the age of eighteen, he was articled strained attitude; and the rounded masses of 
to a Mr. Chapman to study law; but it is evident foliage swell upward and subside from time to 
from his own account of the matter, that he had time with long soft sighs, and, it may be, the 
no particular taste for legal books. He paid falling of a few rain drops which had lain hidden 
much more attention to the works of the poets among the deeper shadows. T pray you, notice 
than to Cork and Littleton. It was about this in the sweet summer days which will soon see 
time that the malady, which cast so dark a you among the mountains, this inward tranquility 
shadow over eo Rt'ca' ^ lortion of his subsequent that belongs to the heart of the woodland, with 
life, first began clcarl; to manifest itself. Much this nervousness, for 1 do not know what else to 
has been written up a this subject, and some call it, of outer movement. One would say that 
have ascribed bis insanity to the religious im- Nature, like untrained persons, could not sit still 
Buther influence is not exerted in the home-eirclo 
alone. Many sainted ones have shown, in every age, 
that woman can accomplish much, in upholding 
the hands of Goo's servant, when actuated by the 
spirit, of Christianity; and many living witnesses 
uttcBt the truth that fragile women are ready to 
bid adieu to friends ami country, and to pass 
their lives in a foreign land for the sake of the 
Gospel. The spirit which led faithful women to 
follow the Savior, while on bis missions of mercy, 
— for the purpose of strewing the rough pathway 
in which ho trod w ith the flowers of kindness,— 
still influences their sisters in modern times. 
Now, educated as they are, as missionary teachers 
of the. truth, they are powerful in an enlarged 
sphere, and their worth is greatly enhanced. 
Many, jn the land of reward, will bless the labors 
of holy women, by whose influence they have 
been won from the darkness of error to the pre¬ 
cious light of revealved truth. 
The world, w ith the acquired momentum of the 
centuries, is whirling rapidly forward on “the 
ringing grooves of change,—and, while much is 
said of the wonderful facilities for intcr-commn- 
nleation, and the rapid advancement of all those 
things which conspire to elevate mankind,—one 
of the most encouraging indications that the 
world is hastening to the consummation of a 
grand maturity, is the position which woman has 
assumed |n the present age. How short a time it 
is, comparatively, since it was thought woman’s 
mission to ply the distaff and servo man. Yet, 
“her beat is unbegun;” for, 
me, msi organ ueart; to manliest itself. Much this nervousness, for I do not know what else to 
lias been written Up •» thia subject, anil some call it, of outer movement One would say that 
have ascribed bis insanity to the religious im- Nature, like untrained persons, could not sit still 
pressious that now took hold of his mind. Evi- without nestling about or doing something with 
dently, there was a predisposition in his mind her limbs or features, and that high breeding 
toward Insanity; and, perhaps, the crisis wus was only to be looked for in trim gardens, where 
hastened by an afl.tlr ot the heart He hud placed the soul of the trees is still at ease, perhaps, but 
iris affections upon Ideodora Jane, second their manners are unexceptionable, and a rust- 
daughter ol bis uncle, Ashley Cowtkh. The ling branch or leaf falling out of season is an 
lady’s father opposed their marriage, aud their indecorum. The real forest is hardly still except 
intercourse was broken oil; but the lady ever in the Indian summer; then there is death in the 
retained her love for her unfortunate cousin, house, and they are waiting for the sharp shrunk- 
Rat the circumstance that tended most to bring en months to come with white raiment for the 
matters to a crisis, and which precipitated him summer's burial.” 
into the depths of insanity, was his being re¬ 
crossing, and tw ining and separating like slender w ’ nds fl fose—the gallant barque could 
lingers that cannot be still; the stray leaf is to Dot ‘ withstand the storm, and with it he perished. 
be flattened into its place like a truant curl; the “Sweet hope has kindly whispered that to-morrow 
limbs sway and twist, impatient of their con- I’ll meet the frienii6 I left so long ago," 
strained attitude; and the rounded masses nf i , , , 
.. .. .. ’ I»u masses oi hummed a traveler, as he paced the deok of the 
foliage swell upward and subside from time to nn ii, . , ,. , . 
“ noble steamer that bore him on his wav.” “Yes 
time with long soft sighs, and, it may be tlie t* . . , , . ' ’ 
, ... f K ■ ir may rm, uie I’m ‘homeward bound;’ tomorrow I’ll see Nblmb, 
falling of a few rain-drops which had lain bidden ... . ’ 
, , . and ere another mouth has passed away. I’ll call 
among the deeper shadows. Iprayvou notice , , . „ i“ M 
. .. * , I > jou, nonet, her by the sweet name of w fe.” The barmy lover 
’• ll ' C " W " -■"*•* /"a*, "■ ,ch ««“ *” tee* muse of b,l«l,l day, ft. U ta 
n,, M u,mbtht,l,», r dtan,.tilt, (t0 „ for Mln . M J_,„ ,J, „ 
that belongs to the heart of the woodland with , _ , ^ Ini “ 
r .,r , H..', , " h ‘"“I' 8 * 1 ’ lie eun tlta. was to witness Ilia rnairiage, 
shone upon the dc:tt.h-Lo<l ofhi* chosen one, 
“I shall go home to-morrow,” said an aged 
Christian. “My sands are almost run out, and I 
am going to an everlasting home, ‘a house not 
made with hands, eternal in the heavens.’ The 
toils, strifes, and disappointments of this life will 
trouble me no more. The happiness of this world 
is fleeting. Our brightest hopes arc* crushed, and 
our dearest plans frustrated. How different the 
world to which I am going! 
“ Oh, i long to he there—it* glories share, 
And be where Jkscs is." 
THE ART OF THINKING. 
“ Little drops of water, little grains of sand, 
Make the mighty ocean, and the pleasant land.’’ 
1 ork, N, Y., 1860. a. Cot. 
for the office of Clerk of the Journals of that 
House. The fear of this examination threw him 
FINDING FAULT WITH CHILDREN. 
n grievous sin, only to be forgotten in eternity, matters to a crisis, and which precipitated him 'summer's burial.” He on the morrow; to that home which 
Let this be u warning, and as a monitor whose into the depths of insanity, was his being re-. -_ sorrow never enters. 
voice shall say, “little matters must not be passed quired to pass a public examination before the ' THE AET 0 F THINKING WeU wou,d 111,0 for usall > tiud reader, to seek 
over, lor great things from little are formed, as House of Lords, ig regard to his’qualilications -_ aQ inheritance in the Heuvcnly world, so that 
“ Little drop* of water, little graiDg of sand, for the office of Clerk of the Journals of that To think clearly is among the first requirements wken onr d 0 ?* 3 ai u numbered, we may go home. 
Make tlie mighty ocean, and the pleasant laud." House. The fear of this examination threw hinr of a public teacher. The faculty may he im- In that blest land, disappointments nmr Come. 
York, N. Y., I860. A. Cot. into a state of hopeless madness, in which be proved, like other faculties of the mind and body. Here we are constantly making plans for to- 
-- attempted to commit suicide. He was removed One of the best modes of Improving in the art of morrow '- and very often see them frustrated. We 
FINDING FAULT WITH CHILDREN. to an asylum at St Albans, kept by the celebrated thinking, is to think over some subject before yon ufierish in our hearts some fond hope wc thiuk 
- Dr. Cotton; and under the kind treatment of read upon it, and then to observe after what man- wi ^ realized to-morrow, but it perishes. We 
It is at times necessary to censure and punish. Hiis gentleman he was in a few months restored, ner it has occurred to the mind of some great kce P whispering, “to-morrow,” but it comes not. 
But very much may be done by encouraging Cowrkr’s own account of his recovery shows, master; you will then observe whether you have We wait aud hope, until “hope deferred makes 
children when they do well. Be therefore more m08t conclusively, that it was principally owing been too rash or too timid, in what you have ex- the heart aio V’ and then, discouraged, we grow 
careful to express your approbation of good con- to the influence of religion upon his mind. ceeded, and by this process you will insensibly weary of life, and long for something better.— 
duct, than your disapprobation of bad. Nothing Onr poet’s friends now gave up all hopes of his catsh a great manner of viewing questions. It i’s This something, that will salisfy our hearts, can 
can more discourage a child than the incessant evor succeeding amid the hustle of the great right to study, not only to think, but from time to found intbe Christian's hope of Heaven. When 
fault-finding on the part of its parents. Arid world, and he retired to Huntingdon with the time to review what has passed; to dwell upon it we have that, we look forward to the time of our 
hardly anything can exert a more injurious influ- intention of leading a quiet life. It was here and to see what trains of thought voluntarily pre- deuth with calmness, and as it draws near we 
ence upon the disposition both of parent and that he became acquainted with the Unwbss, sent themselves to your mind. It is n most w * ns P er > “I'm going home to-morrow,” with no 
c * )ild * an Intimacy which exerted a controlling influence superior habit of some minds to refer all the *® ar disappointment,—for we know in whom 
There arc two great motives influencing human over his future life. After a residence of a few particular truths that strike them to other truths we have trusted, and that His promises will not 
keep whispering, “to-morrow,” but it comes not. 
We wait aud hope, until “hope deferred makes 
the heart sick,” and then, discouraged, we grow 
weary of life, and long for something better.— 
This something, that will salisfy our hearts, can 
be found in the Christian's hope of Heaven. When 
lit of revealved truth, . . 1 f»iouu». a«u n, wuuuuguuu imu me u me io review wnat, n as passed; to cl well upon it, 
o ld with the -veauir. d momentum of ibe hftrdI ^ un ^ lhin S cftn ext ' rt a ,,lc ’ re injurious influ- intention of leading a quiet life. It was here and to see what trains of thought voluntarily pre- death with ' 
is’whirling rapidly forward on “the ^ upon thc di8 Po a *'«on both of parent and that he became acquainted with the Unwbrs, sent themselves to your mind. It is n most whisper, “I’r 
' _r r ; ' .. ' . . . child. an Intimacy which exerted a controlling influence sunenor habit of some minds to refer all n,e fear of disap 
action—hope and fear. Both of these are at times years at Huntington, he aud Mrs. Unwin, who 
noeossary. But who would not prefer to have her was now a widow, removed to Olney. Here he 
child influenced to good conduct by a desire of became iutfmutely connected with Mr. Newton, 
pleasing, rather than by the fear of offending? If whom he assisted in composing the “Olney 
more general; so that their knowledge is beauti¬ 
fully methodized, and that the general tiuth at 
any time suggests the particular exemplifications, 
or any particular exemplification at once leads to 
fail. 
Red Cottage, N. Y., 1860. 
Ellok. 
a mother never expresses her gratification when Hymns.” In January, 1773, he again became in- the general truth. This kind of an understand- 
Doing and not Dreading. —If we spent the 
time, the nervous energy and mental fire, in doing 
her children do well, and is always censuring 8a nc- While in some respects he subsequently ing has an immense and a decided superiority lhe daties of Hfe, which we. often spend in dread- 
*t —.L A . .it . _ * « , . . . . * ____i . . • y i 
UOOUIUV,\4 Ml »IM. I'iVHSVMI UU YT 31H.M l, U 1.1 UJv JL *1 1*1 , , _ 1 it 
is. comparatively, since it was thought woman’s them Wh / n ^ SP f S aDything amiS8 ’ they aro dis ' r, ; covered fl0m lhis attack - ** lefl behind a gloom over those confused heads in which one fact is 
mission to ply the distaff and serve man. Yet courft f dand ™ ba ppy. Their dispositions be- of which he could never divert himself. piled upon auother without the least attempt at 
“her best is unbegun*” for C .° me ha,dcned »ou»d by this ceaseless fret- His friends then thought it necessary to keep classification and arrangement.—SioWy Smith. 
ting, ftndatlast, finding whether they do well or ill, bim employed in literary labor, for the purpose _._ 
■H.i a* nun id wisdom grovi»,!ie honor* her the more, they are equally found fault with, they relinquish of keeping him from brooding over his dreary Politknesb.—I n politeness, as in many other 
1* ottered by the laws of an imperfect system ol all effort to please and become heedless of re- cohdition. He turned his attention to poetry, things connected with the formation of character 
society, she is yet to rise to her true position, grid proaches. • and commenced his labors as an author. His people in general begin outside, when they should 
exert the influence which she may, in rolling for- But let a mother approve of her child’s conduct first volume of poems was published in 1782. begin inside; instead of beginning with the heart 
ward the tide of human progress; and it is only whenever she can. Let her show that his good be- Its principal topics were “Error,” “ Truth,” “Ex- and trusting that to form the manners they begin 
when that day shall illumine the world, the blessed havior makes her sincerely happy. Letherreward postulation,” “Hope,” “Charity,” “Retirement,” with the manners, aud trust the heart to chance 
glories ut which it is so delightful to contem- him for his efforts to please, by smiles and affec* and “Conversation.” This work was not exactly influences. The Golden Rule contains the very 
plate,—the day of which the Prophets spoke, aud tion. In this way she will cherish in her child’s in keeping with the taste of the age, and did not life and soul of politeness. Children mav be 
for the coming of' which the Faithful ever pray,- heart some of the noblest and most desirable meet with a flattering reception from the public, taught to make a graceful courtesy or a geutle- 
tliat woman s work will be Lilly appreciated and feelings of our nature. She will cultivate in him Rut it was different with his second volume— manlvw.. m.: ~ »_ 
ing them, we and tho world would be stronger aud 
better. All the severe tasks of life only grow 
more and more formidable as we look at them 
from a distance, while we grow weaker all the 
while, and less disposed to grapple with them. 
We should inquire, with an honest, brave heart, 
what are our duties here and now; and with what 
of mental energy we can summon at the moment, 
we should go forward to perform them. In the 
very act of attempting to do them, we shall gain 
strength lo do them. Not before, but at the time, 
the needed strength will come. Not while we 
dread, but while we do the work of life, the Master 
her advent really come. 
Wadhiun's Mills, N. Y., 1860. 
Ellatij. 
Goodness is goodness, find it where we may. 
A vineyard exists for the purpose of nurturing 
vines, but he would be a strange vine-dresser who 
denied the reality of grapes because they had 
ripened under a less genial soil, and beyond the 
precincts of his vineyard. 
pleasant and obedient. Just before patting him 
to sleep for the night, you take his band and say, 
“My son, you have been very good to-day. It 
makes me very happy to see you so kind and 
obedient God loves children who are dutiful to 
their parents, and he promises to make them 
happy.” This approbation from his mother is to 
him a great reward. And where, with more than 
the public were not long in appreciating. In 
1701, he published a translation of “Homer’s 
Iliad,” which was very coolly received by the 
Community. His life after the publication of this 
work was sad indeed. Although he occasionally 
employed his pen, his malady returned upon him 
in all its strength. The “Castaway,”—the last 
poem that he ever wrote,—sounds like the waii 
politeness will be entirely artificial, and used only 
when it is their interest to use it On the other 
hand, a truly benevolent, kind-hearted person, 
will always be distinguished by what is called 
native politeness, though entirely ignorant of the 
conventional forms of society. 
Tue Bible. — I am of the opinion that the Bible 
contains more sublimity, more exquisite beauty, 
more pure morality, more important history, and 
finer strains of poetry and eloquence, that can be 
collected from all other books, in whatever age or 
language they may have been rvritten.— Sir Wm. 
Jones. 
1 he triumph of woman lies not in the adrnira- affectionate tone, yon say, “Good night, my son.” of one who had bidden farewell to all hope. On ting — inanimate nature, gentle, subduinc Da 
The Use of Prayer. —Prayer is not to inform 
Living nature is cheering, animating, invigora- a Being who is perfectly wise’, nor that be may be 
tion of her lover, but in the respect of her bus- he leaves the room with his heart full of feeling, the 25th of April, 1800, he died in a slate of abao- 
band; and that, can only be gained by a constant And when he closes his eyes for sleep, he is hap- lute despair. 
cultivation of those qualities which she knows he py, and resolves that he will always try and do Cowper’s productions will be read wherever 
most values. his duty —The Mother at Home. true genius is appreciated. The lovers of poetry 
Lhetic. Y'ou cannot watch the flying clouds, or 
the waves upon the beach, and feel wholly joyous; 
you oannot eye the leap of a trout, or follow a 
flight of pigeons, and be sad. 
affected with our condition, and be prepared for the 
display of his mercy. It is we who are changed 
by prayer, not God. The land is not drawn to the 
boat, but the boat to the land — the result of the 
contact is the same. 
*%> 
aft 
