MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER 
THE MAGICIAN IN ALGIERS, 
THE TWO CORDS OP WOOD 
Among all tbe elegaic poems which poets sing 
about the dead sunni er, we know of none more 
beautiful in its sadness and hope than this gem by 
B. F. Taylor, of tbe Chicago Journal; 
West of * as 11 —of the country “ us M —there is a 
grove; not a struggling thicket, but a fall rounded 
grove, with an exquisitely defined outline; a vol¬ 
ume, in fact, of numberless leaves. The sun sets 
red and &reat and glorious behind that summer 
cloud, and it is the most heautiful spot in the whole 
horizon, for anything to bid the world “ good bye” 
Every one has seen or heard of the great Robert 
Houdin. Besides being the chief of coi jurors he 
is an able mathematician and mechanician and 
his electric clock, made for the Hotel de Ville, of 
his native t<-wti of Bloir, obtained a medal at the 
Paris Exhibition. It is not generally known that 
he was sent to Algeria by the French Government 
on a mission connected with the black art—proba¬ 
bly tbe first lime that a conjuror has been called 
upon to exercise his profession in Government 
employ. Some details of this expedition have 
juBt been published. 
Its object was to destroy the influence exercised 
among the Arab tribes by the marabouts, an icflu- 
flaenoe often mischievously applied. By a few 
clumsy tricks and impostures these marabouts 
no one, it was 
Just at dusk one November evening, three chil¬ 
dren occupied the l.irge kitoheu connected with 
the establishment of farmer Grant. A bright 
wood fire blazed cheerfully in tbe wide chimney, 
wriile from the orane iht suspended tea-kettle was 
announcing, as loudly as pos-ible, that the hour 
for Bopper was approaching. By tbe bright, but 
fitful light, one young girl sat reading; another 
stood at the wiadow watching the cows, as they 
walked demurely from the yard to the stable, while 
a boy of eleven summers was seated on a cricket 
in front of the fire, gazing steadily at the fl tmes as 
they shot upward, but with an appearance of ab¬ 
straction indicating that his mind was elsewhere. 
Softly Ellen advanced from the window, and 
touching her Bister Rath, to call her attention, 
whispered, “Just lock at Thomas! He’s in a 
brown s'cdy, is teacher said this afternoon. I do 
wonder what be is thinking off.” 
“Ask him,” responded Ruth, gtancing at her 
brother, and then turning to her book again. 
“Thomas,” called Ellen, “ what makes you look 
so sober to-night? Did you mtes at sohool?” 
Tbe boy heaved a deep sigh, and then turned to 
his Bister with a sruile, saying, “0 Ellen, you can 
help me if you will; only you must first promise 
not to tell any one.” 
Ellen promised, and Thomas led her to the fur¬ 
ther corner of the room, as hia mother had come 
in, where he made known to her nia plan. 
“ Last night,” said he, “after you and Ruth had 
gone to bed, I heard father and mother talking.— 
It made me feel so sad I could not go to sleep. 
She had been bringing in the clothes, and kept 
coughing, as she always does whenBhe works hard. 
Father told her that she must go to taking that 
doctor’s stuff that did her so much good last win¬ 
ter. At first she did not answer; but pretty soon 
I saw her put up her hand and brush away a tear. 
" There are so many things to be bought for ibe 
children,” Bhe said, after awhile, "that I don’t 
like to spend money for medicine. I don’t often 
cough so much.” 
“I know that, too,” replied father, “but you 
must attend to yonr health. What should we all 
do without you?” 
“ I sometimes think,” said mother, “ that my 
work is almost done, and if it is God’s will to call 
me away, he will provide for you and our dear 
children.” 
I couldn’t stay to hear any more, for I had to 
run into the entry to keep from sobbing aloud.— 
“0 Ellen what could we all do without mother?” 
The young girl turned around and gave her mo¬ 
ther a piercing glance, as if to BatiBfy herself that 
her brother had cause for his solicitade, and then 
asked, “But what oan you, or both of ns, do to 
heip her?” 
“1 mean somehow to buy her a bottle of that 
rned cine,”exclaimed Thomas, impressively, “but 
row to do it is the question. Dr. Jonea hBd a load 
of wood carted to day, and he wants a man to saw 
it. I would go to-morrow afternoon and ask him 
to .give me the job, and the medicine for pay, only 
.ther wants h s wood piled up to-morrow, before 
tbe snow comes," 
Ellen stood for one moment returning her bro¬ 
ther’s gaze, then said, eagerly, "Ruth and I will 
pile it for you. We’ll get up very early, and co our 
stint Define lircsktast, ami Ikeu wu shall have the 
whole afternoon.” 
Thomas joyfully accepted this offer, and readily 
obtained the job from the kind physician. Before 
night he had piied the two coids in the shed, and 
sawed nearly a quarter of it 
“Well my little man,” said the doctor, driving 
into tbe yard as Thomas was hanging op 'he saw 
preparatoi 7 to leaving. “How much have you 
earned thiB afternoon?” 
A bright thought flashed through the boy’s 
mind, and in true Yankee style he answered the 
question by asking, “ Doctor, how much a bottle 
was the cough medicine you gave mother laBt 
winter?” 
“Half a dollar, I think. Is she sick again?”— 
The boy then communicated his wishes, and with 
a flushed face inquired of the doctor if he would 
be willing to let him have one bottle to carry home 
with him. 
The good man was evidently moved by this un¬ 
expected proposal He made no reply except to 
invite the boy to his office. WbfcD there he talked 
more freely, and ended by giving him a small pow¬ 
der for his mother, with directions for taking it, In 
addition to the desired cough medicine, and pro¬ 
mised to call himself the next dey. 
An hour later Thomas sat with his sisters by the 
fire, and communicated to them the joyful results of 
bis afternoon’s labor. They then proposed to give 
the medicine to their mother, as a token of affec¬ 
tion from her three children, “ for,” urged Thomas, 
“I could not have done it if you had not helped 
me.” 
To say that Mrs. Grant was gratified, would be 
but feebly expressing her emotion when the love- 
token was placed in her hands. 
With moistened eyes she gave each of them a 
kiss, and then added in a subdued voice, 1 God 
will reward you, my dear ones. Tbe blessing af¬ 
fixed to the fifth commandment will be yours, for 
you have indeed honored yonr mother.” 
God did bless them in rendering the medicine 
ffcctual in restoring the health of their mother, 
’* s life he prolonged lor yeurs. Bhe saw her 
vbOk growing up useful, happy and respected 
shildren . ’-r^w them.— Youth's Companion, 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
“VIVE LA BAGATELLE.” 
CONDUCTED BY AZELE. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
LINES ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT. 
(. Eccl. , Ilf A, 9lh ) 
Lines written by Mrs. Exily C. Jupson.— Rangoon, 1847 
A BCD hath drooped upon its stem 
With all its glorious pe alt folded, 
Earth in its bosom hid the gem 
And bad oar eyes crane to be’ old it. 
A ray of bear teous sunlight's fled 
Ere jet it scarcely reached the earth, 
Back to its source it quickly sped— 
That heavenly land that gave it birth. 
A little. It rely, chemb child 
Dropped from the shining courts of Heaven, 
Gentle, pure and ucdtfiled, 
What dearer boon to man was given; 
It came > Ith softly folded wing 
And nestled on i ts parent's breast, 
The little, pretty, dove-like thing— 
Inhabitant of regions blest. 
That little one designed for £ while 
To stay and cheer a mother's love, 
Ere yet its heart had known a guile, 
God took it to its home above, 
There joined with the bright seraphic band 
It takes tts own triumphant flight, 
To range that glorious happy land, 
And soar En trackless fields of light. 
Adxikl, 
“ Vivb la bagatelle! 
High let laughter swell I 
Peal forth tbe song! 
Mirth’s careless children we, 
And in the path of glee 
Dance we along. 
“ Vive la bagatelle! 
Deep in the bosom's cell, 
Bid sorrow tl. ep; 
And ’neath the radiant flowers, 
Wreathed in hope's blooming bowers, 
Bury her deep. 
“ Vive la bagatelle! 
Only bright pleasure’s spell, 
Young hearts should hold; 
Care will gloom hours enow, 
On the shrunk faded brow. 
When we are old- 
“ Vive la bagatelle! 
Yet in truth's crystal well 
One lesson see:— 
Qod counts the scattered hours, 
God gave the toasted pouters, 
Our Judge is He 
The Frost has been busy with those leaves of 
late, and has made the grove as gorgeous as au 
evening cloud indeed—has made it look as if the 
sun were forever setting there, and never quite de¬ 
parted; as if it were remembering all the closes 
of the day it ever knew, and blending them in one. 
The foliage of American woodaerjojB the grand¬ 
est dyings in the world; a transit into glory such 
as Christian men might pray for. 
pass themselves oft' as sorcerers; 
Justly thought, was better able to eclipse their 
skill and discredit their science than the man with 
inexhaustible bottles. One of the great preten¬ 
sions of the marabout wsb invulnerability. At the 
moment a loaded musket was fired at him and the 
trigger pulled, he pronounced a few oabillstic 
words and the weapon did not go oft’. Houdin de¬ 
tected the trick, and showed thst the touch-hole 
was plugged. The Arab wizard was furions, and 
abused his French rivaL “You may revenge 
yourself, ’quietly replied Houdin; “take a pistol, 
load is yourself; here are bullets, put one in the 
barrel, but before doing so mark it with your 
knife.” The Arab did as he was told. “ You are 
quite certain now,” said Houdin, “ that the pistol 
is loaded and will go off. Tell me, do you feel no 
remorse in killing me thus, notwithstanding that 
I authorize you?" "You are my enemy,” coldly 
replied the Arab; "I will kill you.” 
Without replying, Houdin stuck an apple on the 
point of a knife, and calmly gave the word to fire. 
The pistol was discharged, tbe apple flew far away, 
and there appeared in its place, on the point of a 
knife, the bullet the marabout bad marked. The 
spectators remained mute from stupefaction; the 
marabout bowed before his superior. “Allah is 
great 1” he said, “I am vanquished.” Instead of 
the bottle from which, in Europe, Robert Houdin 
pours an endless stream of every description of 
wine and liquors, he called for an empty bowl, 
which he kept continually full of boiling coffee; 
but few of the Arabs woald taste it, for they made 
sure that it came direct “from the devil’B own 
coffee pot.” 
He thqn told them that it was in his power to 
deprive them of all strength, and restore it to them 
at will, j^nd he produced a small box so light that 
a child coold lift it with its finger; bat it sudden¬ 
ly became bo heavy that the strongest man present 
could not raise it and the Arabs who prize physi¬ 
cal strength above everything, looked with terror 
at the great magician who, they doubted not could 
annihilate them by the mere exertion of his will 
They expressed this belief; Houdin confirmed 
them in it and promised that, on a day appointed 
he would convert one of them Into smoke. The 
day came, the throng was prodigious; a fanatical 
marabout had agreed to give himself up to the 
sorcerer. They made him stand on a table and 
covered him with a transparent gauze; then Hou¬ 
din and another person lifted the table by the 
two ends, and the Arab disappeared in a cloud of 
smoke. 
The terror of the spectators was indescribable; 
they rushed oat of the place, and ran a long dis¬ 
tance before some of tbe boldest thought of re¬ 
turning, to look after the marabout. They found 
him near the place where he had been evaporated; 
but he could tell them nothing, and was like a 
drunken man, ignorant of what bad happened to 
him. Thenceforward Houdin was venerated and 
the marabouts were despised; tbe object of the 
French Government was completely attained. The 
fashion of “ testimonials” having, it appears, in¬ 
fected the Arab, a number of chiefs presented the 
great French conjuror with a piece of Arab wri¬ 
ting, wonderfully decorated, hyperbolical and eu¬ 
logistic, and to which they were so attentive as to 
append a French translation. Besides this memo¬ 
rial of his Algerine trip, Boudin had a rosary 
which he one day borrowed from an Arab to per¬ 
form a trick with, and which the owner persuaded 
that Shelten in person w. s before him, refused to 
receive back.— Cor. London Times. 
By and by, that leafy cloud in the west oi our 
country world, will shed its rustling shower of red 
and golden rain; and the group of the grove will 
lift its naked arms to a winter heaven; and the 
November winds will refuse to be comforted, aa 
they moan amid the woods; and we shall see the 
sun set beyond, through the brown lattice of the 
branches. 
Bnt there will be a pleasant thought after all— 
Last summer—say in Jane—when the shade was 
deepest, no stars were shining there, and hardly 
could the moonlight pass the thatch of leaves, and 
let a silver shaft through open the green sward.— 
Next winter, to him who Btanda within that deso¬ 
lated wood", and looks upward, heaven will appear, 
and the leafless trees will seem to bear Btrange 
fruit of atais—such as ripens not in the garden of 
Hesperus. Stars will bud upon the branches; 
stars will cling to the naked arms; for he will look 
through winter up to heaven; and the grave will 
be desolate no more. 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
WINTER. 
For Moore’s Burn] New-Yorker. 
SEALED FOUNTAINS, 
Sbk, Winter comes, to rule the varied year, 
Sullen and sad, with all his rising train; 
Vapors, and clouds, and atorma.—T hompson. 
Already tbe sudden appearance of another 
dreary season is heralded by tbe bleak, desolate 
moauings of November's windB, and already the 
marks of death and desolation are spread over all 
nature, so short time since blooming with the 
loveliness and beauty of genial summer, 
- “ The fading, many-colored wood, 
Shade deepening over shade, the county round embrown;" 
and soon, very soou will the brief season of glori¬ 
ous, lovely Autumn die in all her regal glory, and 
“ Stern Winter with her aged lock*,” 
will unfold her faded mantle to display her reali¬ 
ties, and furrow the lapse of another year upon the 
bleak visage of eternity. 
To thousands—the denizens of onr great cities, 
or the occupants of comfortable rural villages— 
tbe approach of Winter is bright with the antici¬ 
pations of social and festive enjoyment; the de¬ 
lights of theatres, balls, concertp, sleigh rides and 
parties quicken the pulsation of many hearts. But 
there are other minds and other hearts, over which 
the same season flings a chilling shadow. The 
poor invalid draws closer the curtains of his bed 
as he bears the whistling of 
“The keen north west, that heaps the drifted snow," 
and sighs mourn’ully aa he pictures to himself the 
bitter blasts that will howl about his casement, and 
the wild Btorms that will spread over the earth a 
covering as cold and white aa the last garment 
that ia destined to enfold his emaciated form.— 
The impoverished family view with dismay the 
lengthening, cheerkfu*!iighU, and the cold hearth¬ 
stone rarely lit by tb^f panial and llfe-preaerviDg 
blaze. Thus it is, that while wealth welcomes, 
poverty deprecates the cold, pitiless shadts of 
Winter. 
But nature herself is adorable in all her moods. 
Goforth from the crowded cities Into the surround¬ 
ing country—all is not desolate there; there ia 
ever a semblance of summer in the pine-clad hills. 
The foliage reddened and sharpened, it ia true, yet 
dings to the giant oak. The sunshine yet lies 
lovingly in the glades of the deep wood, where 
the fleet and timid rabbit, startled by the intruder’s 
footsteps, dashes with arrowy speed athwart the 
rustling leaves. A enow storm in the country! that 
is indeed heart-stirring. One feels prouder of him¬ 
self when battling with its wild fury, and the 
bracing air sends one’s blood dancing through 
every vein. It Is worth the toll to win the welcome 
at the cheerful fire side iu the hospitable inn. 
But a forest the morning alter a rain and frost! 
Fancy cannot picture a scene so glorious and 
fairy-like. The cavern of Aladdin was not so ra¬ 
diant with gems. Every spring sparkles with pure 
diamond*, and gorgeous prismatic colors stream 
from every angle of the brilliant gems. It is Na¬ 
tures Crystal Palace, challenging the world for ad¬ 
miration. Of all the interesting scenes presented 
by winter no one is more engaging and beautiful 
Fentonville, Ml oh., Nov., 1867. H. Y. 
THKRKis in tbe heart at the dawn of its existence 
a fountain of purity. It is the impulse to noble 
aotion, and the stream that flows from it waters the 
wild wastes of a moral wilderness. In every heart 
has existed this spring, this impulse to parity, 
placed there by its Creator, whether its waters be 
allowed to flow in a oopious stream, or whether 
they be curbed at their source. Jn many hearts 
this fountain is sealed, itB pure waters are loBt.— 
The most wretched and depraved of earth'B sons, 
lookin i back on their early days, find in the heart 
in its years of innocence a secret spring of un¬ 
blemished purity, welling np from the innermost 
depths of the soul: the impulse to truthfulness, to 
honor, to true moral beauty, longed to buret forth, 
but tbe mind looked oat on the ragged wilds of 
life and fearing the rocky channels of adversity 
the stream would have to pass thro’; fearing the 
rough winds of jealousy, and the rains of scorn 
that would ruffle its bosom, it shrank back—tbe 
fountain was sealed, and ere long was frozen at its 
source. Alas I that springs of purity designed to 
cheer so many hearts should be so wasted! 
There are many fountains that should flow; 
fountains of happiness at which every pure soul 
will drink deep —fountains of love, of true benevo¬ 
lence gushing forth from a warm heart destined 
to quench the thiretof the stranger,and the friend¬ 
less want ere i that longs for one kindly look, one 
iovlng word. Then let them flow—let them gush 
forth in a copious stream, and increasing, let each 
form a uob)j river which will water the parched 
wilderness of selfishness and make the desert smile 
in beauty What tbo' the forests of envy should 
drop their bitter fruits in the wave?—what though 
the winds of acorn should blow upon its surface?— 
what though it Bhonld pass over the rocks of mis¬ 
fortune in its onward course? The fulling of a 
river down a precipice renders It more beautifal— 
far more sublime. So a mighty genius or a noble 
soul that meetB with a great fall of disappointment, 
and surviving it etiU pursues its way with undaunt¬ 
ed purpose—with renewed energy—is a striking 
example of the moral sublime. Lyra. 
Nunda, N. Y-, 1857. 
OUR PRESIDENTS’ TEMPERANCE, 
In the year 1833 Mr. E. C. Delevan, by personal 
application, obtained tbe signatures of Presidents 
Madison, Adams and Jackson to a declaration 
against tbe use of ardent spirits. Each successive 
President has added bis signature to the instru¬ 
ment, excepting General Harrison, to whom it was 
not presented. The document is now made com¬ 
plete np to this time, by the signature of the pre¬ 
sent Chief Magistrate of the United States, and is 
as follows: 
“Being satisfied, from observation and expert, 
ence, as well as from medical testimony, that ar 
dent spirits, as a drink, is not only needless but 
hurtfal, and that the entire disuse of it would tend 
to promote the health, the virtue, and the happi¬ 
ness of the community, we hereby express our 
conviction that should the citizens of the United 
States, and especially the young men, discontinue 
entirely the use of it, they would not only promote 
their own persona! health, but tbe good of our 
oouutry and the world.” 
James Madison, James K. Polk, 
John Qujncy Adams, Z. Taylor, 
Andrew Jackson, Millard Fillmore, 
M. Van Buren, Franklin Pierce, 
John Tyler, Jas. Buchanan. 
A GROWING FAMILY, 
Uncle Sam's family is a very growing one. Tbe 
Boston Journal thus counts np the number of his 
sons and daughters, present and prospective: 
Would any one believe, without looking into it, 
that we are in a fair way of carrying the number 
of sovereign Slates, originally thirteen, and now 
thirty one, up to forty-seven! But no It ia. In the 
first place there are Oregon, Kansas and Minneso¬ 
ta, whose constitutions are already formed or form¬ 
ing. It is hoped that they will be admitted the 
coming winter, making the members of the con¬ 
federacy thirty-four. Then New Mexico, Nebraska 
and Washington, already thriving territories, will 
swell the aggregate to thirty-seven. Four new 
States to be carved out of Texas, according to 
provisions in tie trealy of annexation, will give us 
forly-one. Two additional States demanded from 
the area now included in California, would make 
forty three. Arizona, Neosho, Dacotah and Col¬ 
umbus territories carry ua up to forty-six—and 
lovely Utah will be tbe forty-seventh (will Mr. Hil¬ 
liard excuse us?) to “lend to that fair circlet the 
grace of her form and the lightness of her Btep.” 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
«OUR JENNIE.” 
THE MIDNIGHT SUN 
“It’s just five minutes ot twelve!—we shan’t 
bgo It. There it is above! See the line of sun¬ 
shine come down the mountain! We shall have it 
soon!” There were a few moments of donbt when 
the great orb burst splendidly forth below the 
cloud. " The rising sun. The midnight sun.” It 
was a splendid spectacle, tbe rayB sparkling over 
the beautiful Fiord, lighting up distant Bnowy 
mountains, shining back from peak to peak far 
away, and the whole sphere majestically rising 
and clearing away what a moment before bad been 
tho clouds ol evening, bat were now the mists of 
morning. The light, too, was a different one, at 
least to onr imagination, purer, clearer, and fresh¬ 
er. We watched the first movement, and it seem¬ 
ed for a time not to be upwards, but parallel with 
the hilla, and then to bo gradually ascending. At 
length we slowly descended under the full morn¬ 
ing sunlight to the village. It wsa half past one 
a* we walked through the streets, bnt people 
seemed just as much up and stirring as in the day. 
Children were playing in the street and women 
sewing at the windows, while many came to the 
doors to study the costume of our ladies. “Cer¬ 
tainly, nobody sleeps in Norway,” we said.— Bruce's 
Norfolk, 
NATIONAL PRODUCTIONS 
A Secret for being Happy.— An Italian Bishop 
who had struggled through many difficulties with¬ 
out repiniig, and been much opposed without 
manifesting Impatience, being asked by a friend 
to communicate the secret of his always being so 
happy, replied, “It consists in a single thing, and 
that is, rnakiDg a right ouo of iny eyes.” His 
friend, in surprise, begged him to explain his 
meaning. "Most willingly,” replied the BiBhop.—• 
“ In whatever state I am, 1 first of all look up to 
heaven, and remember that my great business ts 
to get theie. I then look down upon the earth, 
and call to mind how smalt a space I shall soon fill 
in It I then look abroad in the world, and see 
what multitudes are, in all respects, less happy than 
myself. And thus I learn where true happiness is 
placed, where all my cares must end, and how 
little reason I ever have to murmur, or to be oth¬ 
erwise than thankful. And to live in this spirit, 
is to be always happy.” 
Nations, says the B ston Post, are character¬ 
ized not more by their people than by their other 
and inferior productions. Here are st me of tho 
most notable “specimens” offered by several 
countries:—China has tea, porcelain and long¬ 
tailed mandarins ; Germany, clocks, priming, 
ghost stories, lager bier and transcendental phi¬ 
losophy; Russia, emperors, hemp and the knout; 
France, cooks, capons, compliments and crinoline; 
Austria, carpets, diplomacy and two-headed eagles; 
Prussia, Frederick the Great, schoolmasterf, and 
tall grenadiers; Switzerland, watches, woodentoya 
and Calvinism; Italy, popes, poisons, paiutings, 
music grinders and revolutionary manifestoes; 
Spain, chivalry, court etiquette, Cortez, ColumbuB 
and CervanteB. England has produced statesmen, 
poets, generals, roast beef, the “ Times '’ newspa¬ 
per, poor laws, taxation, foge, spleen, grumblers, 
colonies, cockneys and “Punch," America has 
produced Washington, a model republic, the elec¬ 
tric telegraph, anaesthetic ether, Gen. Jackson, and 
several thouaand “live Yankees”—who produce 
everything that is worth producing, and something 
over ! 
„ _ s Girls.— Who la lovely? It 
A Word to drops sweet words, kind 
is the Ltt e gir w o ^ she passes along, who 
words and pleasant smiles v ,, r ev w or b 
has a kind word or sympathy u d hand t(j 
she meets in trouble and her ktm wbo never 
her companions out of diflicuity, ^ teg 
scowls, never contends, never teazes her nu ^ g 
seeks in any other way to diminish, but alwt» 4 
inorease their happiness. Wonld it please you w . y 
pick up a Btring of pearls, drops of good diamonds, 
and precious stones as you pass along the streets ? 
But thc-Be are the true pearls and precious stones 
which can never be lost Take the band of the 
friendless} smile on the sad and dejected; sympa¬ 
thize with those in trouble; strive everywhere to 
diffuse around you sunshine and joy. 
A Laugh.— How much of character lies in a 
laugh. It is in fact the cipher-key, oftentimes 
wherewith we decipher a man. As a late writer 
observes—“You know no man until you have 
beard him laugh—till you know how and when ho 
will laugh. There are occasions—there are hu¬ 
mors—when a man with whom yon have been long 
familiar, will quite startle you by breaking out 
into u laugh, which comes manifestly right from 
tho heart-, and which he bad never heard before.— 
And in many a heart a sweet angel Bluinbere un¬ 
seen, until some happy moment awakens it.” 
Human Nature.—T he first works of a repentant 
conscience are not virtue, and the first products of 
an awakened taste are not beauty; but In either 
case the time for denunciation is at au end when 
these signs appear. Its work is done us soon as 
the sparks fly upwards, and not fire, but fuel, not 
abuse, bnt encouragement, is the special want of 
human nature, when a new love for what is holy, 
or for what is beautifal, flret begins to burn. 
■I lately happened to 
Energy ok Character, 
j'Otice, with some surprise, an ivy which, being 
p r0v ’ented from attaching itself to tbe rock be¬ 
yond a certain point, had shot off into a bold, 
elastic steJOi with au a * r of UB much independence 
as any branch °f oak in the vicinity. So abumau 
being thrown, whether by cruelty, justice, or acci¬ 
dent, from all social support and kindness, if he 
has any vigor of spirit* and is not in the bodily 
debility of either childhood or age, will instantly 
begin to act for himself, with a resolution which 
will appear like a new faoulty.— Foster. 
There is a medium between an excessive diffi¬ 
dence, and too universal a confidence. If we have 
no foresight, we are surprised; if we are too nice 
we are miserable. 
Puilosopheks Bay, that shutting the eyes makes 
tbe sense of bearing more acute. There is another 
good it does,— it enables us to charitably pass by 
unnoticed the failings or follieB of our neighbors, 
which they often cannot help. ’Tis useful to shut 
the eyes at times. 
That man hath but an ill life of it, wbo feeds 
hinmelf with the faults and frailties of other peo¬ 
ple. Were not curiosity the purveyor, detraction 
would soon be starved into a tameness. 
Some one has beautifully said of those who die 
young, that “ they are like the lambs whioh the 
Alpine shepherds bear in their arms to higher and 
greener pastures, that the flocks may follow. 
kb not ..the echo in the sea-shell tell of the 
i whioh on"'0 inhabited it? and shall not man’s 
deeds live a. f ter him and Bing his praise? 
