CONDUCTED 
AZIL8. 
For Moore’s Rnral Nov,--Yorker. 
[ NIGHT SONGS. 
> - 
I “ Night liftih its songsS fuugxon. 
Yjss! while the night is over al!, 
, There's music soft and low; 
I The night is whifjieiing to my heart, 
i The sweetest songs, I know. 
i 
i Dear Mother, as the shadows fall, 
They bring a song of thee; 
A tender song of all thy love, 
And all thy care for me. 
I love the voices of the night, 
For mingling in their tone; 
I always hear a gentle voice, 
So very like thine own. 
And now, dear l ather, does the song 
Another harden bear; 
Thine honored name and worth it sings. 
Thy kindness and thy care. 
A song of thee, a gentle song, 
So like th*‘e. Sister mine,— 
Has brought me, with its witching voice, 
The music-tones of thine. 
And now there comes a silver laugh, 
So musical and clear, 
I almost look to see thy form 
Beside me. Brother, dear. 
What happy, happy sounds from home. 
Calm night, have come with thee; 
No other muaic in the world. 
Is half so sweet to me. 
Night sings me songs of long ago; 
Of joys and sorrows fled; 
And sometimes in their strains I hear 
The voices of the dead. 
Sweet songs of hope and joy and love; 
Of all that's fair and blight; 
And angel choirs that sing ol heaven, 
Make music in the night. 
Sing on, yc voices of the night! 
Your songs are dear to me; 
Ye chaut the memories of that past 
I never more shall see. 
Fill up the mgbt with dear, sweet songs 
Of gladsome happy years; 
And if ye sing a requiem, 
I’ll smile e’en through my tears. 
Rochester, N. Y., 1857. Nettie. 
-<—«.—- 
For V nort-'i- Ktiral New-Yorker. 
A KEMINISCENOE. 
BY 'WINNIE WILLI AN. 
Emily Allen was my dearest school mate. She 
was left an orphan at an early age, and was brought 
tip under the cure of an aunt—a. withered old maid, 
whose atfectiocB were all lavished on a certain 
favorite cat, and therefore, had none to bestow 
upon her sweet niece. Aunt Jank was my partic¬ 
ular aversion. So cold and chilling were her man¬ 
ners, that whatever hind feelings one might enter¬ 
tain for her, were scattered to the four winds at 
her approach. And oh, how she would scold.— 
Dear me, I believe she was always alive to the im¬ 
portant fact, that liev tongue was not given ht r for 
nothing, and she well knew how to use it. 
How often I have contrasted the difference be¬ 
tween Emily's cross grained anntie, and the pic¬ 
ture I would sometimes draw of the blithe little 
old maid T would like to be myself! In the first 
place, I woold have one of the neatest little cot¬ 
tages in the world for my domicil. I would dls- 
ly happy. One day, about two years after their 
marriage, us I was busy in the garden tying up 
some plants a recent shower bad prostrated, a let- 
— ter was brought mo sealed with black. I instantly 
recognized her hand-wiicing, And in anxious terror 
- tore off the envelop. My weret fears were con- 
firnifu. Iter husband whs dead! Suddenly he 
was smitten down bv s irae mighty sickness. Day 
I and night the ycung and devoted wife hung over 
his couch in tearful agony. B at tears and prayers 
availed not. Death claimed him for his own. Her 
dearest earthly treasure was torn from her, and 
she was left to tread the path alone, 
“I cannot tell you, dear friend,'" she writes, '-'of 
the almost insupportable anguish that swelled my 
heart of hears, when I saw him lying so cold, so 
motionless, in bis last, long sleep. When I thought 
I never more should hear bis loved voice, or meet 
his smile of affection—that soon he was to be taken 
fiom my sight and laid beneath the cold sod, nev¬ 
er more to see him on earth forever,—it seemed as 
if my heart would break beneath its load of sor¬ 
row. But the last, lingering look was taken, the 
last kiss pressed upon his pale,6ilcntlips, and they 
bore my Bkktik to his long home. ‘I am the 
resurrection and the life,’ said the man of God 
at the open grave; 'he that believetli in me, 
though he were dead, yet shall he live: and who¬ 
soever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.’ 
Ab, then It seemed as if ‘the pearly gates' were 
opened, and I could distinguish his form amid the 
innumerable throng before the Throne, while his 
own sweet voice whispered in my ear— 
1 Weep not—though the lout tie that binds ns be riven, 
[ have loved thee on earth, love—I'il meet thee in heaven.' 
They lowered his coffin, and every spade-fall of 
sarth that was thrown upon it, fell likewise upon 
my heart, and crushed it within me. ‘Earth to 
jarth, ashes to ashes, dost to dust.' I oonld have 
aid me down there and died. His grave is in a 
oveiy, secluded spot—one we nsed often to visit 
;ogether. I have planted there the flowers he 
oved the best, and water them daily with my tears, 
t is so lonesome here now. Row can I live with- 
rat him? Yet not my will, bnt Thine be done.” 
In reply to my urgent request that she would 
eave the scene of trials, and spend the remainder 
>f her Me beneath my rooi; she thus wrote:—“I 
annot leave him alone; I cannot leave my Bertie's 
rave. Tt will not be long before I shall take my 
lace by his side.” It was notlong. Before many 
lonths 1 was summoned to her bed side. Sbe was 
rad dally passing away, as beaut!fill as the decline 
f an autumnal sunset. A few days before her 
eatti, the requested me to sever a tress of her 
air. 1 did so, and sho laid beside it a waving 
ck of raven black. I well knew whose it was. 
“ Keep them for oar sukes, Mary. Perhaps, in 
;aru to come, they will remind yon of the loved 
id lost of other days.” 
T have them stili, and oh, how dear to my heart! 
r a wealth of mournful and yet pleasing memo- I 
ries lie hidden in those locks of hair. Gently she 
breathed her last, and her pure Bpirit returned to 
him who gave it. Ia accordance with her request, 
they sleep side by side, and the loved of earth dwell 
together in Heaven. 
A MOTHER'S MAGIC. 
_ 1 
The following touching and felicitous illustra¬ 
tion of that power ol a mother's influence, was 
giveu by Wendell Phillips recently, in a public 
speech in New York. 
Dfotellaug. 
THE RIGHT3 OP WOMEN. 
BY MRS BAt.MANSO. 
with the small valise containing his entire ward¬ 
robe, I pioceeded fo make my toilet, greatly 
lamenting the thick coat of sunburn which I had 
g-it among the New England hills and on the 
Chicopee river; bnt remove it I couldn't, and when 
Messrs.-and-think of me, it is, I dare 
sav, as a brownish, red-faced woman. 
Scottish -Air: A Man's a Man for a) that 
Ttiough Man Creation's lord we call, 
King—President—and a’ that— 
By Woman’s Rights his power shall fall. 
His pride of place and a’ that. 
For a' that, and a’ that, 
• Fair woman's right and a' that, 
The fox, though weak, can Bharply speak, 
A tongue’s a tongue for a' that. 
Men long have wantoned at their will, 
In Congress—camp—and a’ that; 
But when their place brave women fill, 
A cure will come for a’ that. 
For a’ til at, and a' that, 
King Solomon foresaw that, 
And in his book, whoe’er will look, 
WB1 find a note o’ a' that. 
Men have too long usurped the sway, 
Ta’en lion’s share, and a’ that; 
There’s not a goose ia Syracuse 
But tells the ganders a’ that. 
For a' that, and a’ that, 
“Strong mental light," and a’ that 
Shall pilot woman on her way 
To woudroua “ spheres," and a’ that 
0, what a world will open, when 
Fair ladies vote, and a’ that; 
And female generals lead their mon 
Through showers of shot, and a' that. 
Their in nds on high, when bullets fly, 
No thoughts of home and a’ that, 
Where husband mild, rocks screaming child, 
Sweeps up the hearth, and a* that 
Or when, in hospitals, they clip 
Nerves, sinews, veins, and a' that, 
Invade the pulpit, guide the ship, 
Preach doctrine, law—and a' that. 
For a' that, and it’ that, 
“ High destiny," and a' that, 
In w hich poor man, since time began, 
lias toil'd and moil'd, and a' that. 
O, could they change, for one short year, 
An’ take a spell, at a' that. 
No more of “ lofty types” we’d hear, 
Of “ World's applause," and a’ that. 
For a’ that, and a' that, 
Fond sighs for home, ami a' that, 
Where ne’er again should raise the strain, 
Of Women’s Rights, and a' that. 
The Illoomftr gtiim> in exile laid. 
The punts—the kilt, and a' that, 
To be in after years surveyed 
As moon-struck mad, and a’ that; 
For a' that, and a’ that, 
Thn monster hat, and a' that, 
Might still deserve a case to serve, 
In musqne—or farce—and a' that. 
But Women’s Rlghte, and Rapping Sprites, 
Fox—Davis-Fish—and a' that, 
E'en washing darkies into whites, 
Has had its day, ami a' that. 
The cry is still for something new. 
More wild aud strange than a' that; 
And soon—be sure—'twill meet the view; 
New York's the place for a’ that. 
—---- 
For Moore's Rnral New-Yorker. 
MT FIRST VI S!! TO NEW YORK. 
BY Alt AUTHOR FROM Tim “RURAL DISTRICTS." 
Ma. Editor:— Dear Sin If your Rural had not 
A REMARKABLE BROOCH, 
Tdeke was lately seen, at a jeweler’s in the Ene 
de la Paix, a fantastical object that provoked in¬ 
quiry. It was a small brooch, of oblong shape, 
set with brilliants of considerable value. With¬ 
in it, upon an enameled ground, and protected 
Bnt I fear I shall never reach them unless I hnr- by a glass, was enclosed — what think yon? A 
ry,— so, to proceed. Everything, that is, myself, minature likeness? No! A lock of hair? No!— 
being ready, I stepped into a oar, and though I W'hattben? Why, southing mneh more piquant: 
very much wauled to look about, I would cot, for ^ our pifrfy four old brass pies, crooked and rusty! 
fear tbc passengers would suspect me of greenness; Sack a curiosity demands au explanation. We 
opright i Mt| looking at nothing, and wear- have taken especial pains to get at the truth, and 
ing tipon my face an asr which i?aid, “ Jl ydn think t! iis i» what we have ascertained. 
this the first time I was ever on Broadway, yon are 
miBtukcu. I've been here often, and seen it ninch 
more crowded thin ’tia to-Jay!” 
Alas, ’twaa nothing in the world bnt Fourth Av- 
There ate lit this moment, in Paris, a count and 
a couutOBB. Their country -, but we cannot 
name it, and you will perceive the reason. The 
count formerly devoted himself to poliiics, in- 
mue where we were riding, and I had yet to see finitely more than suited the excessively absolute 
Broadway. We reached it at la9t, however, and sovereign of this undealgnated conutry. It was 
then, goodness me, what a racket! A thousand for this dangerous zeal that the count was, one 
Niagaras were nothing compared to that moving night, seized In his bed by four agents of the po- 
nproar. I began to feel foggy and look cross eyed, lice, and thrust into a cell on four wheels, drawn 
and had any one chosen, they coaid easily have 
purloined the copper and the key without my 
knowledge! 
No. 25, Park Row, was soon found, the stairs as¬ 
hy post horses, which carried him -HeaveD, 
ho and 1 know where! 
The unfortnnate nobleman was plunged into a 
dungeon, blacker Ilian the sonl of his persecutor. 
cended, iho door opened, and I stood within the Days, weeks, months passed away—and not a sign 
book store of Me ssrs. Miller, Orton & Co . well of examination. The prisoner, thus snatched from 
known to the literary world as one of the most the exercise of h!6 dearest affections, from his 
successful publishing houses in New York. With friendship?, from his interests, buried in silence 
a mental groan, ns I thought of the sunburn and and obscurity, soon began to feel his body waste 
sundry criticisms which might afftot the opinion away, and his mind wandering. He became ap- 
or the firm, I walked up to the office, where in a prehensive — apprehensive of himself more than 
trice my fears left me, so courteous and friendly of hia prince! bat, being still sufficiently clear- 
was my reception. I felt as If 1 bad known them sighted to foresee the Incalculable danger of this 
always, nor was my first impression at all changed aolitnde and ol this gloomy stagnation, he de- 
by a more intlni ite acquaintance, for the longer I termined at all hazards to defend himseli against 
knew them the more highly I esteemed them—and the doable torture; and this ia the pian that he hit 
now my only wonder is, why everybody does not 
have their books published there! 
With D. Appleton & Co. I was also pleased, 
though at first I was so unfortunato as to stumble 
upon the “ Railway Guide ” member, who “didn’t 
Searched from head to foot by the ruffians who 
had t hrown him there, it chanced that in his drras 
had remained four pics which escaped the over¬ 
hauling. They suggested to him a mode of con- 
attead to that branch of the business,—’t,was his jnring the terrible void or the dangerous arrest of 
brother 1" Remembering a sister writer who Once his thinking powers, in this solitude, thiB darkness 
made a similar mistake, I took courage, aud at my this silence. You would scarcely gness what ben- 
second effort was more successful, finding the one efit a poor prisoner of State could derive from 
whose business it is to attend to story-writing four pins. Well, you shall sie. He threw them 
women. 1 Eaw there some elegantly bound vol- from him hap-hazird in his dungeon; and, once 
nmes for the coming holidays, and a stranger scattered, sot himself to work to find them!— 
spending a few day b in New York will, I think, be When found, he threw them from him again 
amply igpaid for visiting Appleton’s mammoth and so on, and on! lie often consumed two or 
book store. AH over the printing eatabl ebmeut three days, sitting, kneeling or stretched on the 
we went, from cellar to garret, as we say in the ground, before he succeeded in picking them all 
country, seeing where books were made aud how, up! 
and though it was very interesting, I came away This sport, this healthful tortnre, lasted —one 
feeling that 1 would a Utile rather write books than scarcely dares to Bay it—lasted for six years! A 
,nem ' Ffuad political event then abruptly restored his 
The nrst call on the Publishers being over, I liberty to the prisoner. But the count would not 
w28 read ? [ or fcight-seoing, and never, I am sure, quit bis cell without carrying with him these in- 
was one pair of eyes called into more frequent use struruents that had saved his reason. And when 
than mine. The Crystal Palace was to me a per- he re-entered the bosom of his family; when he 
leui delight, 1 could stay’ thcio for days and never 
tire, but my time was limited, so. with a hasty 
glance at Its most prominent curiosities, I bade it 
adieu until a more convenient season. With 
“ Barm- M's Museum” I was disappointed—for, ox- 
found himself in the midst of hia children—left 
at mo tender an age, that he recognized them only 
through the eyes of his heart —he related his 
touching story, and showed to them, all weeping 
with joy aud sympathy, the four pins to which he 
[ cept that it ia iarger and contains more objects of was indebted for bis reason—perhaps lor his life! 
interest, it did not differ from other Moseuuis, and His wife, sn long widowet.—not by death, but by 
my ideas or It were very large. Had its founder, poll tics— took possession of them more eagerly 
however, been there " onsbow,” I should have been than Pope Urban IV. kid hands upon the fonr nails 
satisfied! It was amusing to see how the visitors of the veritable Cross. 
gathered around the life-s'zed image of the noto- It ia then these wonderful pins, these atoms of 
ecce to this 
temperance 
• « . . . - . | ' ^ wo - u - ■ — ■* *» maov Tin'll IU , # - tf - ” - — —— ——v wvu iai i v. u VUvUflfllUU IJ ailLD 
miss trom the promises thereof, all aunt Jane's well. It is the aiory of a mother on the green bills the great American Metropolis. This confession crime8 ’ -*ud Mill there is nothing particularly dis- worth of diamonds, that she may bear about with 
‘ bachelor a Duttons ami “ old man, ’ of which of Vermont, hi lding by the right hand a sod, six- will undoubtedly briDg a smile to the faces of a S reeabI ° in lhe expression of her face. On the her, In pious regard, so strange and affecting a 
latter she always had a quantity lying in her work 
basket, or stuck between the leaves of some musty 
old book. Roses and houey-eueklcB should clam¬ 
ber my cottage walls, and the fairest and lovelieBt 
of Flora’s subjects should bloom in my garden.— 
None of the feline or canine tribe should Inhabit 
my dominions. Neither would I have any birds 
teen years old, mad with love of the sea. And as those who look upon a trip to New York as an 
she stood by the garden gate one sunny morning, every-day affair. But I don’t care; let them laugh, 
she said: I had been almost everywhere bnt New York, and 
‘Edward, they tell me—for I never saw the now I've been there, and feel very much as though 
ocean that the great temptation of a Beaman's I had traveled, particularly when I look at my soil- 
1 i tV. S.. A T> I . . .. i w 
contrary-, she is rather a fine-looking woman. 
With the rest of the world I weut. to Wallace’s 
and heard the inimitable Miss Heron in the char¬ 
acter of “Camille.” Of course I was delighted. 
’Twould be unfashionable not to be, but really I 
imprisoned in gilded cages, but they should war- said he—for he told me the story—I gave her the 
ble their sweetest lays in the tree by my window. 
I would always wear the most immaculate of white 
linen collars aud cuffs — keep my pockets filled 
with sugar plums, and my head with stories for my 
nephews and nieces, and all the children in the 
neighborhood. I would be the confidant and ad¬ 
viser of the young people, the sympathizing friend 
of the old, and general nurse and almoner of the 
whole parish. In short I would be a model old 
maid. The last expression, “old maid,” I deem 
quite nnpoetleal. Can no one better it? 
But my friend Emilt. She was the sweetest, 
most lovable being I ever saw. She won my heart 
at first sight, and kept it ever after. We remained 
steadfast friends (luting our year’s schooling, and 
then oarae the trial of parting. Bat this I will pass 
over. We interchanged letters frequently, and so 
more than a year passed away, when 1 received 
life is drink. Promise me before yon quit your ed garments and think of the heavy wash-bill I wa8 very mucb Phased,—her acting was ho natu- 
mother’s hand, that yon will never drink.' And 8 hall have to pay 1 But to the visit r “*» mac k like a heartiesa coquette in the first, 
said hc-for he told me the story-I gave her the It was a bright, sunshiny morning when I first b “ rt ° f the play ’ wbil ° towards tho laat u assumed 
promise, and went the broad globe over-Calcntts, found myself arabl the noise, bustle and dust of th . C cbaracter of a wretched, repentant woman. I 
the Mediterranean, San Francisco, the Cape or 500,000 people, one half of whom aeemed to be W1Bh 8Qe dldnt A ' e ~ fleema aa though they might 
Good Hope, the north pole and the souUi-I saw going down town, while the rest were going ud'- U T d,Cbrently * Wben 1 writc P 3 *? 8 for the 
them all jn iorty years, and I never saw a glass The night previous I had spent at the Tomine in 6ta £ e * stiab bave ,be heroine almost die, but not 
promise, and went the broad globe over—Calcntts, 
the Mediterranean, San Francisco, the Cape of 
Good Hope, the north pole and the south—I saw 
them all in forty years, and I never saw a glass 
filled with sparkling liquor that my mother’s form 
by the garden gate, on the green hillside of Ver¬ 
mont, did not rise up before me; amt to-day, at 
shall have to pay! But to the visit 
It was a bright, sunshiny morning when I first 
found myself amid the noise, bustle and dust of 
o00,000 people, one half of whom seemed to be 
going down town, while the rest were going up!— 
The night previous I had spent at the Tontine in 
munqaia not rise up nelore me; am) to-day, at present bnt six individuals besides ourselves. Of 
sixty, tay bpB are Innocent of the taste of liquor, course the change was great, and you will readily 
Was not that sweet evidence of the power of a believe that, I looked in the nearest mirror to as- 
single word? Yet that was not half. For, said he, sure myself that my head was ia its accustomed 
yesterday there came into my counting room a place upon my shonlders! Then, too, the frequent 
young man of forty, aud asked me, • Do you know notice, “Beware ol Pickpockets,” frightened me 
me? No. ‘ Well,’ said lie, ‘ I was brought drunk and though there was in my purse nothing but a 
ln'o your presence on ship-board; you were apas- copper and a key, l resolutely kept my hand upon 
Hunger; ibe captain kicked me aside; you took me it, and quarreled—or that is, chided my spouse for 
to your berth and kept me there until I had slept not doing the same with his. Like every other 
oh the intoxication; you then asked me if I had a man, he pished and pshawed,—" reckoned he knew 
New Haven, where the stillness was absolutely 9 ' ate ' Tbat 8nlte me botte,, ‘ 
painful, and where at the supper table there were BnT tbe o3oc,IH _ : *y a teu minutes of three, and my 
present bnt six individuals besides ourselvea nf bead tba * 3 ve wr ’ ttei i enough; so I must wait till 
next time before telling the rest. 
Brockport, N. Y., Sept,, 1857. 
THE TONGUE. 
M. J, n. 
9 » Tcb tongue may be likened to an organ, which, 
a though but one instrument, haB within it au array 
n of different pipes and stops, and discourses in in- 
r numerable combinations. If one man sits before 
r it, not skilled, to control its powers, he shall make 
H bc >t a monstrous jargon. Bat when one ooineB 
ner, In pious regard, so strange and affecting a 
memorial. Is not thin anecdote a touching one, 
and worth preservation?— Par is Paper. 
CHOICE GLEANINGS. 
The sun and moon are red and white ioses of 
the field of heaven. 
It is folly to attempt any wicked beginning in 
hope of a good ending. 
A public fault ought not to suffer a secret 
punishment. 
Women are to be measured, not by their beauties, 
but by their virtues. 
Prayer is the slender nerve that moveth tho 
muscles of OmnijJotence. 
NorniNG elevates us so much as the presence of 
a spirit familiar, yet superior to our own. 
Shall our gracious God watch over ub through 
the heat and burden of tho day, and shall we de¬ 
vour the food which ho provides for n» at night 
with handB we have never raised in prayer, and 
lips which have never praised him? 
The art of conversation consists in the exercise 
ol two fine qualities. You must originate, and 
sympathize—you must possess at the same time 
more than a year passed away, when 1 received mother; I said f never knew aword from her Ups; enough to take care of himself -’twan’t his first VI monstrous jargon. Bat when one comes sympathize-you must possess at the same’time 
f n . e ® f ber epistles, with the you told me of yours at the garden gate, and to- visit to New York, if it was mine, and even it he V V hUS C °“' ro1 0f its P 0W0r8 ’ the habit of communicating and listening. The 
in e igi^nce toat sho was soon to be married, and day I am master of one ol the fiucat packets in lost his pn for Ucoi! “ “T? 1 "; 0( ”“ d ““ union is rare but irrestible. 
begging me to come and perform my promised New York, aud am come to ask you to call and see tained bills on the Maglra River Bank l» V gUt V-' h ‘ Kk 16 hcard tbe olt . y of God in the Jkkkmt Taylor savs- — <* rwrtn? ri 
oftioc ol bridesmaid. I BOmcwhat Barpiised nm** How* f ir that little candle threw its beurtiH! 'tm 4 hour ol it-n Binging. The tongue is the key-board r \ ^ e iulnesa and a 
that .he had never mentioned anything of It be- That mother's rroril on Urn ereen um.ldo of Vci ™« torned my thoughts Into another channel, of the B'.nl. But It makes a world or diHoronce 111 fll1 ' tlie “” al ful1 01 hermony; it 
fore. She had also thought ol tbitt Bs may be mom! Ob, 0% L T “ ftmltt Wl “. " ,lMM 40 “ d “ »'”>■""*> PW»<‘- “ 7W„ ZkLT, “To n , “"T “ d h “ rt “ i '* 
shown by a part of her letter which ran thus: power of a single word 1” ^ v ry fourth person were not a rogu« and every and therewith curse we mm.” , e publishes glorification of God, it pro- 
“ Perhaps you will wonder, dear Mary, that I _-___ tblrd a p f 0u wfflcer - we P™<*eded to tho Everett A heart that is full of goodness, that loves and thfttlkfall,eap > Rud serves the end of charity.” 
have never previously written you a word of my Tears and Blushes.—T he poet Goethe beimr „ VVVlV’r ° a i pleaf ’™ t ““r® ^of rooms had been pities, that yearns to invest the richest of Its mercy No woman can be a lady who would wound or 
new friend. I am some astonished myself to ancp. in i>ia Afimnonn f o m m kA t.. a _I ^ ^ ^ OQ1* V 6Q ^ J to whom I in the souls of those that need it_h oar auroot r» I mortify another. No matter how beautiful, how 
think I could keep a secret so long from you, who 
have always shared my confidence. I cannot ac¬ 
me.’ How far that little candle threw its beams! 
That mother’s word on the green hillside of Ver- 
montI Oh, God be thanked for the almighty 
power of a single word!” 
once in the company of a mother who bad occa¬ 
sion to reprove her young daughter, just tradding 
into womanhood, when he eaw the young girl 
engaged ior us ny our friend Mr, M-, to whom in the souls of those that need it—how sweet a mortif F mother. No matter how beautiful, how 
we are greatly indebted for his attention to us tongue hath such a bt-arti A flute sounded in a reflQtd > ho * cultivated she may be, she is, iureali- 
during our stay in the city. Once in my own wood in the BtillnesH of evening, and rising up ty ’ coar9e > Htld the innate vulgarity of her nature 
apartment, with the door locked, I began to breathe among leaves that are not stirred by the moon- m;,nif cstM Itself here. Uniformly kind, courteous 
i ce agu n, when suddenly I remembered that my light above, or by those murmuring sounds be- and P olito treatment of all porsons, is one mark of 
I,™* had not come! Of course ’twas lost,-and neatb; u clock, that sighs at half hours, and at afllie w0Ulaa ' 
Mlk bight In^toforV 0 ^7°“ h ° U ‘ 8 ^ i,a 8tlvcr bel1 B'^ly that Thebe is a world where uo storms intrude-a 
f .... ' present myself be- we know not whence the sound comes, unless it haven of safety against the tempests of life — a 
L.,Z"”£ Lt e Z. im ; f “'" ! he * from «“■ mu ° ° f *» «* a™, .r »««» «.d 
Jkkkmt 1 aylok sajs:—“ Cheerfulness and a 
festival spirit fills the soul full of harmony; it 
composes music for churches and hearts; it 
makes and publishes glorification of God, it pro¬ 
duces thankfulness, and serves the end of charity.” 
No woman can be a lady who would wound or 
mortify another. No matter how beautiful, how. 
refined, hov cultivated she may be, she is, iureali- 
count for it, except that 1 was so chary of iny new blush and burst into tears, said:- 1 How beautiful f ree aimin'when m 
found joy. I could not bear to expose it to the your reproofhas made your daughter. The crim- trim* had’not com 
knowledge of a third person. When you see my non hue and those silver tears become her better w i t h it mv best Hr 
Bertram, you will not wonder at my loving him— than any ornament of gold or pearls. Theso may H jii, linncht n' u , 
he is so good, and kind, and noble.” be hang on the neck of a wauton; but those are f ore my publishers 
It wag oniichannlug morning in June that they never seen disconnected with moral purity. A nosslblV Fibrin 
were married. Tne dew still lingered on the flow- full blown rose, besprinkled with the purest dew, ] felt sure ti,ev wV, 
ers, when the bridal party wended their way to the is not so beautiful as this child blushing beneath at u li events would 
village. A lovelier bride never promised “to love, her parent’s displeasure, and shedding tears of frontispiece ( w hie 
honor and obojr.'' And tanu, w.nnnn, the .orrot, (or her f.«lt A hlosh I. the sign which ohlS L lort 
handsome bridegroom, looked as if he thought his nature bangs out to show whore chastity and honor i„7„„. 
iA»uu BU ui C uriuegroom, looKea as n ne thought his nature bangs out to show whore chastity aud honor 
cup of joy overflowing. Scarcely had the pastor dwells.” 
pronounced the words which made them man and --—— 
wife, when the happy husband caught his blushing There is perhaps no pang bo acute, no senti- 
bride in his arms and imprinted upon her rosy lips so humilating to the heart of woman as the 
a fervent kiss, the seal of their holy union. They consciousness of awakening distrust, when she 
immediately departed for his “Kentucky home,” most deserved to have inspired confidence, 
where all tho elegance and luxury wealth could- - - 
IViTiif iunit, t-o 1..IA °- - v ^ fl'PIHAB III lift -a. , i o w „ uuu cure?, IIUO aiSUppOlHUUCIUH; 
. hanZi l ^ « T lH T n remft “ un * B,ce P- witb 11 not® 8( > soft that sound and sleep lie openeth his heart to confidence, and pleasures 
1-7,^ ,i ' J t K ot ti'ig very much strive together, aud neither conquers, but the frDtmingle,lwithremor.se. This world is the home 
bestow awaited them. 
I heard from Emily often. Bertram was all 
her loving heart could desire, and she was perfect -1 
&FARK moments are like the gold dust of time. 
Of all portions of Our life, spare moments are the 
most fruitful, in good or eviL 
excited, the baggage came, safe aud sound, not an 
article missing, though toy meeting bonnet was 
dreadfully jammed, owing to the rough way with 
which the trunk had been bundled. Why can’t 
they be more careful, those baggage men? My 
trunk when I left home was new, and now—all bat¬ 
tered and bruised—it looks like a relic of the p ist. 
But it could not be helped, aud, pretending not to 
hear a remark from my other half touching the 
foliy of “carrying so mauy dud?” while at the 
same time he contrasted the size of my big trunk 
sound rocks itself upon tbe bosom of sleep each °f u virtuous and amiable mother. 
charming the other; a brook that brings down Intemperance is a habit that is almost certain 
iho greeting of the mountains of the meadow?, to result in failure. Even tbe moderate use of 
and sings a serenade all the way to the faces that 
watch themnelvcs in its brightuesr. These, and a 
hundred like figures, the imagination brings to 
liken thereunto tho charms of a tongue which love 
plays upon— Rev. //. IF. Beecher. 
Woman.—T he morning star of infancy, the day 
star of manhood, the evening Biar of old age. 
alcoholic stimulants to the man whose business 
requires a clear intellect sud constant prudonco, 
is attended with danger. It clouds the perception, 
aud creates a feeling of boldness and reoklest-ncss 
that may, in u moment, thwart tho best laid plan 
of yeals. The business man who indulges at all 
in artificial stimulants, cau never be sure of him¬ 
self. 
