Stiff? 
m 
[Written for Mooru'n Rural New-1 orker l 
THE PRISON WINDOW.* 
BY CAROLINE A. HOWARD. 
8TROR0 la tlie pri*on, and olden; 
Ite walla av« prrint and gray, 
And acarco can toe Minbearas golden 
Kind entrance day by day. 
One look at ite gloomy vnatnese 
Miiken you nadly depart, 
An you lUInk, it* dreary ftttn'U 
Hold* may a reatlew heart, 
Shut in from the world forever, 
Though It tremble and beat, 
With hope and atreugth,which shall never 
Speed the returning feet. 
Sometime*, at the Wuntero window, 
Fanned by the evening air, 
May be seen, in the nuoset glow, 
A face that's wondrnun fair— 
A face whose delicate sweetness, 
An artist's fertile brain, 
To render hi its completeness. 
Might seek for years in vain. 
Perhaps ho might paint Evangel, 
Truthful aud fair, like her; 
Yet more in »be like the angel 
At. J Hsus' sepulchre. 
How oft in this world the rudeness 
Of outward form doth hide 
A soul whose beauty and goodness 
Seems to the saints allied. 
Whenever some transient vision 
Doth inward life reveal, 
1 think of that, face in prison, 
Its tender and mute appeal. 
Dedham, Mass., 1860. 
• on a beautiful illustration of Burns' “ Lament of Mary, 
Queen of Scots.” 
-—- 
[Written for Moore’s Ilural New-Yorker.] 
WHO ARE THE GOSSIPS? 
“Goon morning, Mre. Simfkinh.” 
“Good morning, Mrs. Browning.” 
“A beautiful morning, isn’t it?" 
“Delightful! I could not ooutent myself at, 
home, so 1 told Mabtua Jank I would just run 
over here, and have a little chat with you# 1 
made up my mind if 1 ever saw you again, it would 
have to lie here, unless I happened to meet you 
Bomewhere,” laughed Mrs. 8 . 
“Now, Mrs. Simpkins," said the other, reprov¬ 
ingly, “you know I go to your house oftener than 
anywhere else. I have not even been in to Bee my 
next door neighbor, Mrs. Jkwki., in nearly two 
weeks.” 
“Indeed! then you have not soon Jennie since 
her return?” 
“ I have not, but I hear she is greatly improved.” 
“Impioved! Why, Mrs. Bkownino, you ought 
to see her put on airs. It Is perfectly ludicrous.” 
“ You have bccu her, then?” 
“No, hut Martha Jank has. It is really 
amusing to hear her describe her call there.— 
Martha Jank is rather witty, you know, and can 
eet off uuy thing of that kind perfectly.” 
“ Decidedly bo. But did not Jennie treat her 
well?” 
“0, well enough, as to that, but she was just 
from tho city, and thought, I suppose, she must 
set herself up ou that account. 11 is so ridiculous 
in her . 1 presume Mr. Simpkins is quite as well 
able to send his daughter to a city boarding- 
“ Very true,” Biiid Mrs. 8 , rising to go. But 
before she could tike her leave, another theme 
for her bnsy tongue presented itself. “There 
goes Mbs Granger,” said she, pausing on the 
step. “Poor girl, how 1 pity her!” 
“Pity her, why?” 
« jlitvn’t you beard, Mrs. Browning? Jim Mg- 
p art.A tN has left her, and she is almost crazy.” 
“Is it possible! 1 should not mistruMtit by her 
looks. Besides, I have heard that it was Bhe who 
broke the engagement.” 
“ That is not bo. I have heard all about it from 
several reliable sources; and Martha Jane was 
in there about the time he left, and Miss Granger 
was cry ing herself almost to death. It mast have 
been about that. What else could it have been? 
She is too proud to let people know how she feels. 
But 1 gueBH if she knew him as well as / do, she 
would thank her stars that ahe was fairly rid of 
him. But, mercy! I must go. Good morning.”— 
Mrs. S. disappears around the corner, and Mrs. B. 
within the door. TIiuh ondetU the lesson. Who 
are the gossipit All who have reached the age of 
sixteen years cun testify to tho fact that there 
is such a class in existence, and yet a large ma¬ 
jority of them would be Btruck with amazement 
and Indignation to find their names upon the list. 
The dear, innocent rouis never dream that the 
intercut they take in the affairs of their neigh¬ 
bors results from ought else than pure devotion 
to the welfare of humanity. There is many a Mrs. 
Bimukinb in the world,—aye, and Mr. Bimckins, 
and Messrs. Si mi-kins Jr., who, for want of someth 
ing else to do, collect about the steps of shops and 
stores, comment upon the style of the ladies’ dress, 
or the size of their feet, if they happen to lift 
their skirts to cross a gutter, or avoid tho pools of 
tobacco juice with which these gentlemen of case 
adorn tho sidewalks. They witness every arrival 
in town, and every departure. They know what 
ladies rceelvc calls, and what ones do not. They 
know when Mrs. Jenkins gets a new silk dross, 
just how much it cost, aud if Mr. Jenkins is able 
to pay for it. They know, to a minute, the time 
Miss Mary Jenkins expects to become Mrs. John 
Smith, aud all the particulars of the wedding, at 
least a month beforo it takes place. After storing 
their minds with ns much valuable information 
as their soft craniurns will contain, talking it 
over among themselves, comparing notes, and 
expressing their brilliant ideas, they go home and 
retail it to their less fortunate motheia, wives and 
sisters for future use. 
Oh! ye gossips. Is there not work enough in 
this suffering world for you all? Aim at some¬ 
thing higher than gathering and spreading news. 
Think of the consequences of your idle life,— 
think how it degrades your own moral nature,— 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
DESPONDENCY. 
Droph of rain'—drop* of rain! 
Dashing on the window pane, 
Dripping from the mossy eaves, 
Dripping from the faded leaves — 
Desolate, and dread, and drear. 
Falls the sound upon my ear. 
AU day long—all day long— 
I have listened for the song 
Of the cheerful, happy bird, 
Always in the orchard heard, 
When the Storm is passing o'er, 
And the sun shines out once more. 
Darksome clouds-darksome cloud*— 
Now the setting sun enshrouds— 
Shapeless shadows drifting by 
O'er the leaden-colored sky— 
Night comes on, the long dark night, 
But no stars will give their light. 
Drops of care—drops or care— 
Falling, falling everywhere; 
Dripping down npon my heart— 
Will the shadows never part? 
Letting in the bles*ed light, 
Making all toy llf«-path bright. 
All in vain —all In vain— 
List I for the song again 
Of the Hope bird siogtDg clear 
When the shadows disappear— 
Singing in the blooming bowers 
Of the far-off future hours. 
Midnight clouds-midnight clouds— 
Seem to wrap their sable shrouds. 
All that once I counted mine 
Now with cypress leaves entwine 
Drops of rain aud drops of care, 
Dashing, dripping, everywhere. 
Cambria, N. Y., i860. 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
CUTFIZ AND READAM.-NO. IIL 
THE DAIRY DISTRICT. 
Very unlike the Wheat District is the Dairy 
District. The traveler remarks it at every turn. 
The school-boy, away from liis Genesee home,— 
attending one of tho many “Seminaries ” that 
have sprung up like mushrooms in the pure air 
pectancy combines witi> appetite to move us to 
reconnoitre the oining-room. Here we let fall 
the curtain, till the stage rumbles up with fresh 
horses, and the easy travelers, pocketing their j 
tooth-picks, and with sundry slow and satisfactory 
movements of reminiscent mastication and de- | 
glution, resume their romantic journey. Your 
fellows arc jolted through a continually repeated 
series of napping, ftod nodding, and blinking, but 
you study the country. Beside and above you 
rolls the land like a huge scroll, here and there 
indented, or throat up into a camel-like bump. 
Your view on this side is very limited, litre it 
is a heavy forest straggling up the precipitous 
ascent: there, pastmc ground, which the cowb 
have terraced by parallel winding paths along 
which they eat and rise, and down whose side yon 
try to imagine a lingo rock or sawlog rolling, and 
pitching over the jagged ledges of sandstone, 
about which the blackberry grows. Bat back of 
these swell a series of hills or scrolls, just as you 
sec them stretch away on the opposite side of the 
valley, wheie your ejes have all day loved to 
range. 
But if your route traverses the hill conntry, 
you mast content yourself to begin it with coach 
and two, and end it perhaps in a one horse 
wagon, whose driver Is proprietor of the estab¬ 
lishment aud is engaged to carry the mail, with 
traveler ’ fees as his preqnlsites. Do readily talkB 
about this section where he was raised, gives you 
the history of General or Colonel so-and-so, a 
vastly rich man of a generation or two ago, bnt 
whose children have “ run it through,” aud in 
yonder valley, in grim repose lies the old man¬ 
sion. In that house a man once hnng himself,— 
and there is Deud-mau’s Hollow, and yonder, 
within that diBtant thicket, in Lake Misery, where 
one night a few acres of wood are said to have 
sunk, and now out of whose oozy, matted carpet, 
the pitcher-plant raises itB urn, and the rare fly¬ 
catcher, its hair-like fingers tipped with sticky 
drops of “prepared glue.” As you rise upon one 
of the crests of tho country, you may discern 
over the successive billows, the faintest curving 
lines traced against the sky, and which you are 
told are the Catskili Mountains; and between 
those darker, forest-covered pileB, flow the Sus¬ 
quehanna, the Delaware, the Unadllla, or one of 
their tributaries. No one that has notseen it, can 
imagine the antumnal glory of anch a view, when 
the leaves have ripened as they seem no where 
else to ripen. In the Genesee oountrv, the forests 
in autumn wear a tawdry garb,—a brown, frost¬ 
bitten appearance,—but bore ail is surpassingly 
brilliant, gorgeous. In other regions, the land 
lies in mimic waves, and troughs, and ridges, like 
the surface of a troubled lake, and in huge drifts 
JuSASE 
Ir v 
p 
[Written for Moore's Kural New-Yorfcer.J 
WHOM HE LOVETH HE CHASTENETH. 
P.T MAHOARKT KI.MOTT. 
Hats je lived »o long in vain? 
Useless is the toil and pain? 
Riwe, a nobler manhood gain! 
Will ye weakly still repine? 
Ore is smelted from the mine, 
Only fire can gold refine. 
So Con's hand is heavy pressed 
On the heart* n<i loreth best; 
Light affliction* serve tho rest. 
And through sorrow shall ye stand 
Purified at Con's right hand 
In that far-olT, better land. 
Then in glory, safe at last, 
When Life’s storms are overpast, 
Ye shall prai*e Him who hath cast 
Fuel on the fire of pain, 
Sending grid’s hot, leaden rain, 
Tearing heart and 'wildering brain. 
Gainesville, N. Y , I860. 
-*-•■»- 
THE NILE OF GRACE. 
» —-— 
Tun sources of the Nile in secret lie, 
Unknown to man, like God, a mystery. 
Th# human soul and Egypt's flooded mould, 
By inundating grace their germs unfold. 
The seed is moistened; soon from growing sprout 
Upshoots the loHy stalk, its leaf buds out; 
The husk, brown-tasselled,cloaks tho golden grain, 
Aud labor plucks contentment onoo again. 
The soul drinks grace, tho vine entwines the tree 
Of faith, with tendril love and charity; 
It# blossoms sweet shall, culled by Him, outpour 
In Paradise their fragrance evermore. 
Pic it York Evening Pott. 
--- 
(Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.l 
LIFE 13 WHAT WE MAKE IT. 
Dow often we hear life spoken of as though it 
were nothing more than a dreary, wretched exist¬ 
ence,—as thoagb nothing good or beautiful oould 
possibly he associated with it,—as though happi¬ 
ness were only a thing of the imagination, and 
nothing that, could be analyzed. It is true, it can 
not be compared to a summer’s day without a 
think how it degrades your own moral nature,- have sprung up like mushrooms in a. pure u ^ leH uke arotlo ice .bauks, bnt here is a Acid sn face of otoe gentle 
think what you do when you throw a shadow and moral atmosphere of that region, issued great .nntinent.il oceancvCr rolling majestically. clond ’ or to , p , 
upon the character of tho helpless aud innocent, catalogncs and suddenly created good vegetable v lu are Tcry r [ ol) and gie cn, both be- rivor; for clouj8 W ‘ ° t<m d "J ”. ,R ' n 
-think what you do when you separate friend markets for insignificant hamlets,-this hoy is Svedforageatho “wash- light, and tempestuous waves will ofUm beat upon 
from friend, intruding your nuholy presence and really puzzled to know what the people “live - d becauB0 of abundant our frail ba>1 ’ yct 1 lf ‘ y * Bee uo 1 .“. B ‘!, 
poisonous breath “ where angels dare not tread.” on / Were he better acquainted with the opera- ^ Wgh * ness in it, have surely failed to perform aitb nlly 
Tho BBme Gon who said “thou shalt do no mur- tions of the commissariat, he would discover that . aiul H0 dentlti [ t that the sun their P ftrl ’ ft,r ln , the P la neat bCnb0 
poisonous breath “ where augclH dare not tread.” 
Tho BBme God who said “thou Bhalt do no mur¬ 
der,” also said, “ thon shalt love thy neighbor um 
tnysclf.” Think you not you urn “treasuring up 
wrath”? Guard well each his own fireside,—yon 
know not what enemy may be laying enures for 
you or yourH. “Mind your own business,” is a 
homely phrase, but it carries with it a valuable 
meaning. Carryout its instructions, and allow 
others to do the same, and your hearts will be 
lighter, your sleep sweeter, your conscience more 
at ease. There will be loss strife, less contention, 
less heart bleeding, less sighing in a world where 
there is sorrow enough at best 
Pike, N. Y., I860. FRKDKRIKA Fkswood. 
- u, well enougn, as Neat Wives and “Touchy” Husbands.- T f 
from tho rife »d thonght, I rappee, .he meet b „ c tWt f .„ llla , , IK „ a pro- gt 
Bcthereclf a, o. XTZLTZZ Z Z "*>»* — «*>■ “«“■»» •» « « •«» ££**th 
in her. 1 presume Mr. 8nn k nu is qn.te well j roen and women, that with certain vir- 
able to send h.s daughter to a city hoarding- tU(?a whfeh we admiro ttr0 al * ay(5 coupled certain thr , 
school, and dress her up within an Inch of her dUftgteei|blflne>% we might muko up our minds 'J^/with 
life, as Mr. Jkwki. i«,-but Mr. Simi-kinS chooses to accept ,, be bitter with the sweet or ’ 6Uocli 
to pay his debts first,” said Mrs. S„ significantly. lllstance cvery hnsband, wo believe, delights ’ h j , 
“1 have heard,” said the eager but less talka- house, free from dust ™e c P 
live Mrs. Browning, “that Mr. Jewel ,s consul- ^ ^ ^ ^ pflinH . t . akinR mtt . 
erably in debt” chinery necessary to keep It so, lie wishes never . » . t 
"te«l 1 ««« -R. «»» “ tooee.^oreecing too oJo forg*.topraioo. If, 
Mra. Bbownino. think >tj»M •*• ■«* »«• , ke „, UI , „,ro, truo to ho, f.mlmno itMtioct. to- 
honorable in him to pay Mr. Simix ns > d oleftnUDieaB gcnlIy rem inds him, when he f ' 
owe, him, beforo iio lnj« out quite so mach for bl* tUrt g, forgotten to «, tho „ 
dooghtor. However, 1 ulwft>R moho it o liolnt to jMr , ual ll( , foM1 „„ r |„g .itting room on . 
tions of the commiBsm i.it, he would discover that 
tho man that d <“4 not g>-ow wheat, may neverthe¬ 
less feed upon superfine,” and that though 
his fields prod 0 «•; cnly glass and corn, he ts not 
doomed to live upon hay and hoccako. The ua 
tives of tho country will not acknowledge that 
they cannot raise wheat, but they speak of the 
weevil, and Buy that tho true riches of the soil 
may be more advantageously developed by 
dairying. 
In an agricultural view, this district, which wo 
marked out in the Rural of Nov. 3, is not one of 
tho richest. It is of the dwellers upon such bills 
as are found hero, a certain writer affirms that 
they arc much given to look and dig beneath the 
surface for the gold that does not grow in crops 
above it. Bnt we do not believe they are so dis¬ 
contented, though we cannot wonder that the far- 
oat Bummer cluyB* ftuil so derive i$ it. that the »uu 
must plant his hot aitiUyy at the height of seve¬ 
ral hours before the vap It takes flight. Though 
the hills are the picture of great commotio n, pro- 
foundest repose forever sleeps upon them.— 
Countless springs burst out from their sides, and 
trickle over the brown flandstono ledges. The 
roads wind up the lesser valleyH, where tho trout- 
brooks come brattling and flashing down through 
numerous private nooks and hiding-places, snd 
life is what tee make it. 
It we aro determined to look only npon the 
dark sido of things, wo willfully close our hearts 
against those genial rays which might otherwise 
warm and cheer them. If, because wo have 
merely tasted the cup of sorrow, wo aro con¬ 
stantly apprehending greater evils which may 
never befall ns, we thus deprive onrselveB of 
much happiness. If, because one friend haa 
an occasional sunny roeudow. Here uro 
located proved false, wo look with distrust and coldness 
none of the enormouB eaved brick houses, or buy- 
windowed, and tripple-piazzaed two-story houses 
shining all over with white lead, but wholesome 
looking cottages, of brown, or red, or yellow ex¬ 
terior, and mostly of the story-and-hull typo.— 
They chime in well with the country. At the 
time of harvesting, when in Western New York 
moron a western tour, when he sees the plow tbu grain and stubble fields checker the landscape 
walking through straight furrows upon level 
ground, with no rocks to break its point, throw it 
out, or shock the arm ihat holds it, envies »uch 
farming land, and depreciates bis own farm. Land 
is not, except in the valleys, held at near so high 
a price per acre, as in the wheat district, ft is 
so as almost to dazzle the cyo as the snow does in 
winter, this laud is green with meadow and past¬ 
ure, tho dark-leaved com, the growing oats, and 
the buckwheat just sprouting up. The prevailing 
tone of color is green, and even the grey trunks 
of the trees, aud the brown wails that constitute 
not a first-rate fruit-growing region. Good apples tbe feuct . g b ere, catch this hue from the moss that 
arc grown, but the other luscious varieties are not creepg 0 p, around and over them, in this moist 
upon all, It is not strange that life appears dark 
and desolate. 
But if, on the contrary, we meet bravely, and 
bear patiently, th,? ills of life, our pathway will 
be one of sunsh 10 rather than of gloom. TIiIb 
world contains much that is beautiful, and was, 
by oar great Creator, designed for onr happiness; 
yct a discon’ented spirit falls to appreciate tho 
blessings he bestows, and by perverting them 
turns life's sweetest joys into bitterness. What if 
clonda do obscure the golden sunlight to day, it 
will shine with increasing brilliancy to morrow. 
What if you do have to meet with cares and 
trials, so do others; every heart has its own sor¬ 
rows to bear, and yct you would almost think, as 
found to any extent. The peach, whioh is the c i inJa t c . Such is this quiet land of hill and val- 
best tc-Bt of a climate, cannot abide this. But if [ ey _ t be home of Coopku,— and this tbe country 
the gains are less, the Bavlngs are more. Less desor Jbed by him in the wild and incomparable 
hired help is required on a dairy farm, and this is Leather-stocking Tales. We love it for its bean 
creeps u 7 ar^ aLd ov^r rhemTin this moist yon sec the elastic step, the brightly beaming eye 
climate. Such is this quiet land of hill and val- and the countenance lighted wlthBm ' lt ‘ B ' t ^ at 
ley— the home of Coopku, -and this tbe country gtief was a stranger there,-the secret is, they have 
described by him in tbe wild and incomparable learned to extract honey from every Aower that 
ocscriueu u/ . li _uf„* u ..aiRurnv and In ho doimr Lave 
nVnnt mu huaharnl’s affairs.” uuul . .. . . ~ .7 . , b red help is requirea on a uairy larm, ami «« m Leather-Stocking Tales, neiovn uimiwucu- 
8a “ Waf tha?' not MnJ that just ** 1 * reflect before he give her a chkUy for uU IriB hm„n is yet something £ for it8 wilda L, for its personal and family 
passed?” mild Mtb. Browning, pushing aside the lordl * lm P atientl gracious P ah » w ‘ ho * tb ® „f a novelty here. While the pasture in Western bistories, and for its legendary romances. 
pa ' reverse of the picture would suit him—viz. a jjew York is dried up, hero it is fresh and green. Here, In the town of Yinevillo, lived Horach 
° C i believe it was -pretty isn’t she?” slatternly, “easy ” woman, whose apartments are j t „„ thcre and BeC for 0 U rselves. Rsadam, Euq. Rubman. 
“ Wen I don’t wonder if stories are true,” said of ™ ltor8 ’ !t la a P 0 ^ T ^ lu [ a W,f ®. red-velvet cushions, and its red veneering, hurries The Editorial TnEAnMiLL.-The Home Jour - 
the sympathizing M s. 'b. “I suppose she has made evory-thingfresh and bright, to be nnwil .ng blinded passenger from begin- na! thus truthfully describes the editor s burdens^ 
very UtTen oyrnent She has all those children a h ll « P a ’ nB ,l B °’ nlng to end of bis journey, making a highway of “It is one of the hardships of our profession 
to take care of and docs her own house-work erl y reminded, if forgetful on these points npon * byeways, and leaving a dim impression on that its working wheels-brams and heart-are 
which many husbands .are unreasonably “touchy baJ taken the underground rail- not allowed to lag for sickness, or stop for 
Elder B’uTTK.mKLDgets.-four hundred dollars,- even while ) 8ecret1 / . lh ° P 1 road and been set down at tbe hack door of his calamity or sorrow. The Judge may adjourn hi 
height S to hire a girl.” of the vigilance of the good house mother. Bat tho old 8tage coach jogs you court, tho school and the workshop may close the 
“1 have heard,” replied Mrs. B., “that she pre- ***_ , through this district after fonr sleek horses, if shatters, tho momner may vc ’ , 
fers doing her own work, to being subject to the LovB.-This is the great instrument and engine r(mt# lie9 u one of the larger and more turn friend and stranger Horn the door but th 
annoyance of keeping n hired servant” ° f natQrc - the bond and cement of society, the J )opu]oua valu . yg . Tbe ro ad lies not beside the journalist must forget before to morrow tdie £lor 
^ eprinc and Bpirit of tho nniverflo# It is of that waiiniv imitnm >,nt ‘winda a littlo rowti of to-day- - inuBt wfito gaily and freshly* at 
“ That la what their church try to make oat, but, P it must of necessity 8tream U . P ,V wh ’ t S( . cru9 a natura i ft newsmonger on the trifle of the hour, whaterei 
in my opinion, there are few ladies who prefer to ^ J and likc t ’ U c fire, to which it is so of- ^ np lurZn Z b ort laid upon that same hour bj 
do them own work when they can get help; thcP { 0n compared, it is not a free agent to choose Province, or his brain „ n man. It sometime: 
they may make a v n ue o nt es^i v. - whether it will heat or no, but it streams forth by . « ne rt . b idences and go through the smart- tries and mocks, as the world that reads what 1 
part, 1 pity her, poor soul. They say ho s really aml uaavo idablc emanations, ao afl the fine t™^ tbg thas written would never dream of.” 
unkind to her, too. U is each a pity that a man inferior, unsuitable ob- ^ portions o c . g • j ook op0 n an editor’s labors as th 
of Elder Buttkkiukld'h talent, and one that might .J ' t niL The seal mav soon- villages are m valleys. You may meet great loads T e» public 100 i 
of a novelty here. While the pasture in Western 
New York is dried up, here it is fresh and green. 
But let ns go thcre and see for ourselves. 
Elsewhere, the rail-car, with its rattling, and its 
red-velvet cushions, and itB red veneering, hurries 
the deafened and blinded passenger from begin¬ 
ning to end of bis journey, making u highway of 
all the hyeways, and leaving a dim impression on 
his mind aa if he bad taken the underground rail¬ 
road and been set down at the back door of his 
blooms along life’s pathway, and in so doing have 
found tho truth of the assertion,—///? is what we 
‘nir »u“ D 0 aL 0 . ..HO «*» trow"..- w.P e -a, £. 
’ Bg(1 Rubman. tears of useless sorrow,-be determined to know 
UHADAM ’ . T _ __ something of the snnny Bide of life, Bpeak a word 
The Editorial Treadmill-TI* Home Jour- of kindness when you meet with the sorrowing 
nal thus truthfully describes the editor’s burdens: ones, give them a word of sympathy; and when 
“It Is one of the hardships of our profession you meet erriog ones, strive gently to win them 
that its working wheels-brains and heart- are back into the path of happiness. Cherish a spirit 
not auowcd to lag lor sickness, or stop for of kindness and of f o rb e arancetowarda;and 
calamity or sorrow. The Judge may adjourn his you will be amply repaid with the satisfaction of 
court, the school and the workshop may close the knowing that you are not living for self alone, 
shatters tho mourner may veil hia features, and To each there is a mte*iou given; 
«n.n fri.m! Rtrancer from the door; but the 0 , then let nooo mistake it; 
or me Vigilance oi urn guuu u»u„ —. deB tination. Bat the old stage eoach jogs yon court, the school ana me wur*^ 
-:-T , - through this district after fonr sleek horses, if shutters, tho mourner may vfcl1 hia fatttareB ’ 
Love.—T his is the great Instrument and engine rout0 lie9 in one of thc ]ftrg er and more turn friend and stranger Irom the door, but the 
of nature, the bond and cement of society, the J ^ vaU Tbe rottd ii e8 not beside the jonrnulist must forget before to-morrow the sor- 
spring and spirit of tho universe. It is of that ‘ 1 th?’valley bottom, but winds a little rows of to-day-must write gaily and freshly, aa 
active, restless nature, that it must of necessity the bjllsido upon what seems a natural a newsmonger, on the trifle of the hour, whatever 
exert itself: and like the fire, to which it is so of- * * where thc farm-houses ait out of reach burden has been laid upon that same hour by 
ten compared, it is not a free agent to chooso V lrethet you have a front view of Providence, or his brain as a man. It sometimes 
whether it will heat or no, but it streams forth by ^ ^ ^ realJcnceB) aud g0 through the smart- tries and mocks, as the world that reads what is 
natural results, and unavoidable emanations, so of every village. And here all the thus written would never drcain of.” 
that it will fasten upon an Inferior, unsuitable ob- v 1 j valleys. You may meet great loads The public look upon an editor’s labors as the 
ject, rather than none at all. Tho soul may Boon- J b of chc ese, and aa you, Indian did upon tbe man that was cutting hay. 
er leave off to subsist thau to love, and like the ' 01 buUer nrains . - - v: ~ “ — l - 1 — ” +w wfte 
do so much good in his sacred calling,should set ^ than to love, and Uke Die r° t i Xwith aUyo7r Do flnJly gare in his “opinion” that it was 
such an example in lus private life, however, I vine> u wUher9 ftud dlej , ( jf it has nothing to cm- u0 ’ . P learn llia , tWa [ 8 a “easy to see wh ite man mow.” 
known him only by reputhtlon, and wlut 1 boor ^ Ko „ affeclioo the mt8 o( inn0 . WIo* travel^ J 0 « ' T _...- 
may not he lino. There mo borne peoj, c. you cencc happily pftebed upon it. right object; ,? U var o a proximtty to'the farm- Don't <tuarrol with your conscience. Own up 
know, that «K,,r t<M. De« know. the»o» gos- lt )lame(1 „ p „f dOT „Uon to Ood, l Z l“,e.th»t when .he »cea KS -h. eehamed or yonr wrohg 
sips enough in this town. I don t pretend to • and in collatera l emisslonsof charity to its neigh- kottseti, 11 y 1 doinge, and reform, and thus escape her upbraid- 
lien rat-held h»r. Do yen know, Mrt Bno wn- ^ , 5eBtlJ Mtl . V „ B ,„ .nddilTered " d “7rT 2ZZ Tore pel nTh U Dee .hit -eonecience meke. coward. 
ing, they have almost had Martha Jane married 
two or three timeB. It is so provoking that a 
young lady cannot receive a call from a gentle¬ 
man but it is construed into something portent¬ 
ous by the gossips.” 
“ Yes,” replied Mrs. “ in these little country 
villages thcre iB any amount of gossip going on. 
I am very anxions that Mr. Browning should sell 
out and return to the city, There one need not 
know one’s next door neighbor.” 
us much from thut whioh usually passes by this 
name now-a-days as the vitul heat from the burn¬ 
ing of a fever. — Dr. South. 
■— - *-•-* - — 
Remember that love is dependent upon forms— 
courtesy of etiquette guards and protects courtesy 
of heart, IIow many hearts have been lost irre¬ 
coverably, and how many averted eyes and cold 
looks have been gained from what seemed, per¬ 
haps, but a trilling negligence of forma. 
dents inform yon of tbe fact that there is a pecu¬ 
liar richness in the grass, as evidenced In the 
flavor of the butter and cheese. They believe 
there is no snob grass, uo such butter and cheese, 
found elsewhere. And here are the good old-fash- 
of us all, bnt the fault is with ourselveB, and not 
with conscience. Deal justly with all hearts, pay 
for your newspaper, and bo assured that con¬ 
science will permit you to sleep as sound as when 
Though clouds oft o’er our path are driven, 
Yet life is what we make it. 
Hart’s Grove, 0., 1860. 9 - F - 
-- 
No “Affinities” in Vice.— It is idle to talk oi 
the viceB as a sisterhood. There may be associ¬ 
ation, but no affiliation. Knavea may be compan¬ 
ions, but not friends. The vain dislike the vain; 
the proud hate the proud; the covetous abhor the 
covetous. But the virtuous are never at war. 
The just love the just; the chaste esteem the 
chaste; the benevolent admire the benevolent. 
In short, all good things harmonize; all bad 
things ore discordant, both with the good and 
with each other. 
____ 
Conscience.— The sweetest bedfellow is— Con¬ 
science, Conscience. Ha! it’s a charming thing 
to feel her at our heart—to hear her evening song 
and morning song,— Jerrold. 
IUUUU UlOv- vv uu*'-» --- - , . « 
ioned innB, where good fare is quite aa commonly you were a nestling on yonr motner a noson A MAN , B most g i wr [ous action will at last be 
met with aa at “the hotel” in Borne place that — , f . the fl r8 t found to be hut glorious sins, if he hath made 
we think of; »nd when at noon, onr red-heed Tne vine hcaM three k B ' ,. d , tlic glor? of Cod , the end of tho»e 
« driver” bring, up with an ndroit rn.h beforo the of ple.snr., the Second of drunkennees, aoU „^ 
one where our inner man Is to he refreshed, ex- of repenlence. 
actions. 
