I. . ..1 m I M > 
*‘' x ‘^W\^Wu*U*Ur^>W*tr,fW W \,r*T l/nx r w ^ tTyinifx>ftk/ri ‘ n ^ rr 
414 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
DEC. 62 
<f {juice pisccllamj. 
For M ore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
DECEMBER TWILIGHT. 
Down to the fiery West, 
Like some great, glorious spirit in its slight, 
To the celestial islands of the blees'd, 
Through fields of living light, 
The King ot Day hi.s gone. 
And o’er the long, low, frowning battlement 
Of clouds, his beams, like flaming arrows thrown, 
Blaze in the boundless firm ament. 
Faint in the fading light, 
The modest moon, as a sweet smiling bride, 
Looks gently down, while Jupiter most bright 
Stands gleaming at her side. 
The great change still goes on 1 
Soitly through the gathering shadows dim, 
The twilight dews are gently stealing down, 
Singing their evening hymn. 
From the dark Eastern sky 
The glittering army of the BtarB march forth. 
While bright, armorial banners gleaming fly 
Far to the frigid North, 
Grandly along the aisle 
Of mystic shades great Orion takes his way, 
And the bright Sister Fleiads gently smile 
Through the dim twilight gray. 
The busy day is done! 
Silently, sadly o’er the winter world, 
The shades of night are sinking one by one, 
And darkness is unfurled. 
OgdenBburgh, 1867. E. C. J. 
- 4 — 4 >- 
For Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
AUTUMN LEAVES. 
How bright and beautiful they are. The 
brightest red, the softest, and yet the most bril¬ 
liant yellow, blended together, and quivering in 
the sunlight, as the gentle breezes loiter among 
them. How onr hearts flatter as we gaze on them. 
Like bright visions of happiness, they dance Ire- 
fore onr eyeB in very glee, but just as our dreams 
are about to be realized, the vision vanishes, the 
leaf falls. Beauty soon fades; sombre shades will 
gather over them now, and they will be trodden 
under foot as things that were. Marks of dissolu- 
tion and decay appear, and the thing of beauty is 
a shapeless mass. 
Spring, with its first bright offerings, its tender 
buds and delicate flowers, its bright green leaves 
and gurgling streamlets, is beautiful The air, 
vocal with bird music, invigorates us, stirs up tbe 
latent, energies, and prepares us for (he sterner 
realities of life. Joyousness reigns everywhere, 
and we feel that we can lay aside the ponderous 
weight of care that rests upon ns, and go out like 
lambs and play. 
Summer, warm sultry Summer, laden with 
dreamy quietness, comes ushered in with dark 
rich flowers, and its stately forest trees are dressed 
in living colors, so noble, that the heart instinctive¬ 
ly pays homage at their shrine. Ere long the 
bright besufy of the young grain is being ex¬ 
changed for a richer golden robe, growing durker 
and more lovely as age advances, until the reaper 
comes with sharpened sickle, and cuts it down,— 
Summer, too, is beautifuL 
But Autumn, decked with radiant forest leaves, 
and groaning under the weight of luscious fruits 
is the season we love. Come in the morning, when 
the clear blue heavens are smiling above us, and 
not a cloud caste its shadow on the earth, white 
with the glittering forms of frost work, and see 
the sun rise. Were it possible to view this for tbe 
first time when youth’s vernal blossoms are bud¬ 
ding into manhood, we should imagine ourselves 
transported to fairy land. On every quivering 
leaf sparkle myriads of diamonds, and here and 
there, where the spider has built bis home, yon 
will find shining pearls, woven in his meshes, more 
beautifal than those that lie encased in gold, wait¬ 
ing for wealth to bring them forth, While gazing, 
we almost forget life, with its bustling business.— 
This is sort of a dreamy pastime which we enjoy, 
but why, we cannot tell. Bright season of joy.— 
The sparkling waters that babble and foam in tbe 
heart, and cleanse it of ite impurities, irradiate 
the countenance also, and oome forth, often in a 
joyous laugh, while the eyes, those windows of the 
soul, sparkle with delight. But alas! it cannot 
last. Winter comes with his pelting hail, and his 
tightening frosts, and nips the buds of beauty ere 
they had blossomed. The bloom of health is 
fading from the cheek, and age comes creeping 
on, taking “a tooth or golden lock” that beauty 
fain would keep. Then will the silent influence 
of the departing be exerted over the young. And 
though the body may have crumbled into dust, 
there are those left to record their kiud and noble 
deeds, and to practice their virtue. 
December, 1867. Mrs. Minsix Weldon. 
Autumn Leaves. —Autumu leaves by millions 
rotting in heaps unheeded, and yet each one a 
microscopic wonder of contrivance. And this 
snow-wreath that half envelops them, made up of 
myriads of crystals, melting while I look at them. 
What an utter waste they Beem! Wisdom and beauty 
flung wholesale into the pit of corruption. Until 
the day of resurrection, we shall never compre¬ 
hend this melancholy mystery. Then shall atoms 
all be portioned out, and every organized particle 
of the earth’s crust be found to be part of some 
bouI’b tabernacle. Then shall we understand how 
Crosar’a dust has also lived in the leaf, and bis 
moisture effloresced in the Bnow, duly to be restor¬ 
ed and produced when time and its nBes are no 
longer; but meanwhile used everywhere, and 
nothing lost, mislaid, wasted, or forgotten.— Dub¬ 
lin University Magazine. 
They who read about everything are thought 
to understand everything, too, but it 1 b not always 
so. Reading furnishes the- mind only with the 
materials of knowledge; It iB thinking that makes 
what we read ours. We are of the ruminating 
kind, and it is not enough to cram ourselves with 
a great load of collections—we must chew them 
over again.— Clianning. 
Reputation 1b rarely proportioned to virtue.— 
We have seen a thousand people esteemed, either 
for the merit they had not yet attained, or for that 
they no longer possessed.— St. Evremond. 
WINTER MORNING ON THE PRAIRIES. 
“ Morning came, and with some misgivings, we 
breathed a place clear in the frosty pane, asd look¬ 
ed out upon the prairie that touches the world’s 
northern wall. And wasn’t it grand? We had 
thought an hundred times what a noble battle¬ 
field that plain would be; and there, sure enough, 
was an engagement before our eyes. A11 over the 
field detachments in white uniforms, with white 
plumes and white banners, were deploying, and 
charging, and wheeling into line, while the air 
was filled with the cloud of battle, and the guns of 
tbe storm roared steadily on. Right before tbe 
windows lay a quarry of snow; its white ledges 
fairer than ahy Parian, carved and seamed by the 
fingers of the wind. Beautiful it wbb, indeed, 
scalloped like a great white sca-sbcJl, unprinted 
by mortal foot, undarkenedby a drop of rain—pure 
and spotless, out of the cloud. Who would mis¬ 
trust that the drops of rain, danoing in summer 
nights, upon the broad, green leaves, blinding the 
roaeB, and tinkling the rills, could ever put on the 
white garment of winter. Everything indicated a 
desperate battle, the clonds looked ragged and 
gray; the wood-home had been ‘carried,’ and a 
fence been carried away. 
An old-fashioned storm it was, indeed; the tem¬ 
pest aslant, driving ‘to the s’uthard,’ bending 
with its white and flickering sails, like some great, 
strong ship, bnrrica before the wind. And how 
the great guns roared, now and then, out of the 
snowy air. You should have been in the country 
then, nestled in some little box of a cottage, and 
before a cozy fire, should have listened to the com¬ 
ing blast; when it struck the ‘big woods,’ as a 
minstrel strikes the harp; when it leaped over the 
prairie with a bound, and made penny-whistles of 
the chimney-taps, and shrieked round the corners 
like a witch, piped through the key hole like a 
boatswain, roared through tbe little trees like a 
fury, and sighed over the thresholds like a found¬ 
ling. You should have listened, when it died 
down to a murmur, and gathered strength to 
come again, with ’ everything Bet that would draw,’ 
and thundered on, as one would think, round the 
whole world.” 
-- 
DECEMBER. 
How many times, do you think, must men en¬ 
counter December, before they learn that to enjoy 
is not to be happy; that happinc-ss is deep and 
voiceless; enjoyment, clamorous like the babble 
of a brook. The one glitters, like a mirror, be¬ 
cause the sun is shining; the other locks tbe light 
up, like a diamond, because tho sun has shone, 
June is tue laugh of tue year, but December is 
its treasured fftirk. The rustle of leaves and the 
song of birds are in the frolic, and the breath of 
the laughter le sweet with many flowers. 
But who shall say there is not a warmer, deeper 
thought of happiness in this tumb December, all 
that life and beauty folded close to the breath of 
Earth, safe from harm, the dower of by-and-by? 
Some peels have fancied that December and 
Death are kindred. Ab, there is more dying in 
summer time If we only knew it, than there is jn 
all the year beside. There is no dying now; tbe 
hope of another May is locked at last in Nature’s 
heart, a deep and quiet happiness. Winter has 
come, and tbe roses are safe for June. 
“ Why art thou weeping, maiden mild ?" 
Said a Friar Grey, to a lonely child ; 
“I weep for the swallows gone over tbe sea, 
Who need to come and he fed bv me." 
“ Then dry yonr tears,” said the Friar gJey, 
"They will all come hack in the month of May." 
“Ob, tell me, Friur," the maiden cried, 
“ Why my sister weeps since her lover died* 
Will he come back with the early spring 
To woo his bride with a gay gold ring r" 
“ Hueli, hush, my child, he is gone for aye;" 
“ Will my sister's life have another May ?" 
- 4 «-»- - 
ALLIGATOR'S NESTS. 
They resemble hay-cocks, four feet high, and 
five in diameter at their bases, being constructed 
with grass and herbage. First, they deposit one 
layer of eggs ou a floor of mortar, and having cov¬ 
ered this with a second Btratnm of mud and herb¬ 
age, eight inches thick, lay another set of eggs 
upon that, and so on to the top, there being com¬ 
monly from one to two hundred eggB in a nest — 
With their tails they then beat dawn round the 
nest the dense grass and reeds five feet high, to 
prevent tbe approach of unseen enemies. 
The female watches her eggs, until they are all 
hatched by tbe heat of the sun, and then takes her 
brood under her own care, defending them and 
providing for their subsistence. Dr. Lutzenberg, 
of New Orleans told me that he once packed up 
one of these nests, with the eggs in a box for the 
museum of St. Peteraburgb, but was recommend¬ 
ed before be closed it to see that there was no 
danger of the eggs belm; hatched on tbe voyage. 
On opening one, a young alligator walked out and 
was soon followed by tue rest, about a hundred, 
which he fed in his house, where they went up and 
down stairs whining and barking like young pup¬ 
pies.— Lyell, the Geologist. 
If in Sparta u young man purchased aa estate 
upon advantageous terms or made what is termed 
a “a good bargain,” he was rendered accountable 
to the State and fined for being unjust, in buying 
a thing under its value. Our practice is the re¬ 
verse; the young man who can make the beBt bar¬ 
gain is the smartest. 
Cato on Statues.— Cato the elder, when many 
of the Romans had statneB erected in honor of 
them, waa asked, by some one, “ Why he had 
none!” He answered that “ he had much rather 
men should ask and wonder why he had none, 
than why he had a Btatue.” 
A loving friend’s rebuke, sinks into the heart 
and convinces the judgment; an enemy’s or 
Btranger’s rebuke in invective, irritates, not con¬ 
verts. 
Mental Pleasures never cloy; unlike those of 
the body, they are increased by repetition, ap 
proved of by reflection, and strengthened by en¬ 
joyment 
. 4-4 - 
God sometimes colls os to Btand still, when we 
are most anxious to proceed; this is mortifying 
but we generally find it is to see His salvation. 
CONDUCTED BY AZILE. 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
TWILIGHT MEMORIES. 
BV MBS. WINNIE WKLUON. 
Truant's a beautiful s ky above us, 
Tinged with a shade of gold, 
And a dainty cloud is resting there, 
Silvered with light from a little star, 
For the day is growing old. 
The earth is wrapped in a shadow, 
With pencil-touch so light, 
That the eye beholds through its misty sheen 
The distant hills and the dales between, 
Where the rivulet speeds Its flight. 
Onward it glides, and atill onward, 
And the pebbles in its bed, 
Tumble and roll, and impede the flow 
Of the rushing waters, as on hey go 
By the sighing zephyr’s bed. 
We hear its n urmuring whispers, 
And watch each gathering wave, 
Till the heart is sad; and we fain would weep, 
Recalling the voices of those who sleep 
In the i^ence of the grave. 
And we see the whitening txertps 
Of thore who are going soon, 
Whose kindly lore hath chosen our path 
Where the sweetest llowers affection hath 
Are In perpetual bloom. 
Aa fancy roves and the twilight fades, 
And the shadows darker grow, 
We welcome glances from love-lit eyes, 
And return tbe clasp of hands we prize, 
While tears of joyousness flow. 
Oh I we love this beanteoua hour 
Just at the close of day; 
It adds new links to affection’s chain, 
It teaches us who we have loved in vain, 
And who we may love for aye. 
Nov., 1867. 
- 4 - 4 .- 
For Mooro’B Rural New-Yorker. 
CHRISTMAS SONG OP THE ANGELS. 
’Twas night in Bethlehem. The bud, that for 
so many centuries had daily shed his beams over 
the earth, had once more sunk to rest behind the 
hills. Night’s deep darkness had succeeded the 
gentle rays of twiligh’, and Judah's shepherds, 
who for another day had led their flocks by the 
“ green pastures and still waters ” of Judea, now 
guarded their peaceful folds aguinBt their forest 
enemies. As reclining upon the ground they to¬ 
gether chanted God's prais's, or talked over the 
humble events of their simple lives—they little 
dreamed they were to be witnesses oi an event 
that prophets and kings desired to see, but could 
not. A light breaks in upon their astonished vis¬ 
ion, and an angel stands before them, more bright 
and holy and beantifnl than anything their imagi¬ 
nation ever conceived. Tremble not, ye simple 
sons of Abraham. See love and gentleness 
beaming in every fea are of that heavenly coun¬ 
tenance. 
“ Fear not,”—(the tones were sweeter than mu¬ 
sic,)—"fear not; I am the bearer oi glad tidings.” 
And then the sweet voice told them of the infant 
King, and bade them seek Him; and calling forth 
from its eastern chamber of light a Star to guide 
where, the Savior lay, their angel visitor returned 
to Heaven. And immediately a white-robed band 
appeared, and striking their hArpa anew, chanted 
in heavenly tones their firdt Christmas Anthem:— 
"Glory to Gon in the highest, on earth peace, 
good will toward men " (low it reverberated 
through t he golden walls of Heaven, ftud descend¬ 
ing, filled the earth with melody! How it awaken¬ 
ed the echoes that, slumbered !u those grand old 
hills of Judea, and sped to the uttermost parts of 
the earth—that first Christmas Song of the Angels! 
How could mankind have Blept, while the hosts 
of heaven were thus welcoming the advent of the 
Prince of Glory? 
The Star In the East had safely guided the shep¬ 
herds to the place where tbe Infant Savior lay.— 
Some gorgeous palace, think yon, was His birth¬ 
place, where all of Eastern magnificence and 
wealth awaited the new born Savior-King? Ab, 
no,—a lowly manger met the gaze of the shep¬ 
herds: 
“ While His birth-place waa a stable, 
And His Bottest bed was hay." 
Your mother used to sing beside your cradle- 
head, 
“ Hush my babe lie, still and slumber, 
Holy angels guard thy bed.” 
And her voice was so sweet and low. Bat angelB 
sang sweeter lullabies to the Holy Babe, as Mary 
watched beside His little hay-Btrown couch, be¬ 
neath the manger-ruof. 
Some eighteen hundred years or more have 
passed since then, and again it is Christmas Day. 
No angel appears to tell us “ Christ is born,” but 
there 1 b “peace on earth” and “Joy in Heaven,” 
and angels are again singing as they did in olden 
time to the shepherds on the plain—"Glory to 
God in the highest, peace on earth, good will to¬ 
ward men.” Can you not almost hear the angel- 
song that thrills the harps above, and does not 
your heart take up the strain anew, ns you “ read 
that sweet story of old,” and can you not Join the 
shephcrdB in praising that same Savior who then 
reclined beneath a stable-roof, but now, clothed 
with majesty and glory, sits at the right hand of 
tbe Father above? Ab, yonr heart throbs as yoo 
sing that Christmas Song on earth. Do you not 
long for the time whun yon may join it in heaven? 
Desolation and gloom now rest where the feet 
of a Savior once trod. But in that day of His 
second coming, when He shall make “ the place oi 
His feet glorious,” the 
“ Glad, eiDglng desert Bhall bloom like tbe rose." 
Think you then the last Christmas Bong of t!ie 
Angels will bo Icbs glorions than the first? 
Roolrenter, Dec., 1867. Winnik Willi ax. 
-■ 4 — 4 '- 
Home.—T he world is for the working hour, but 
home Is the place of refuge. We come to it when 
we are weary or weak; our refreshment is there, 
our rest is there, we reflect there, we recover from 
sickness there, and when we die In peace, we die 
there. 
-- 
Repose is the perfection of activity. 
For Moore'* Karol New-Yorker. 
MUNICIPAL LAW. 
The Municipal Law of this country, that, is, the 
law pertaining to the several State Governments, 
and to the National Goverumenl, is here, as in 
England, divided into two kinds, uamely. the writ¬ 
ten Law, and tbe unwritten or Common Law. 
The written Law consists of the Constitution of 
the United States, the Constitutions of the several 
States, (he Statutes passed by Congress, by the 
Legislatures of the several States, and by other 
minor legislative bodies upon whom the power to 
make laws has been conferred by the Legislatures 
of tbe scversl States. Among the latter may be 
mentioned, as an example, the laws made in the 
several counties of the State of New York by the 
respective Boards of Supervisors of thofie counties. 
There aro doubtless many persons of considera¬ 
ble intelligence, who, not Laving looked into the 
subject, suppose that all our laws aro made by 
some one or another of the legislative bodies to 
which I have referred, and are therefore to be 
found in the statutes. Certain it is, that the ideas 
of many in regard to the general sources of our 
laws are very confused and indistinct. They have 
a very inadequate knowledge of wbat is meant by 
the Common Law. 
"Tbe Common Law,”says JonN Bouvier, in his 
Law Dictionary, "is that which derives its force 
aud authority from the universal consent and Im¬ 
memorial practice of the people.” The great body 
of tbe Common Law in this country was derived 
from England, having been brought over and 
adopted by our ancestors. In fact, tbe Common 
Law of England, so far aa it is applicable to onr 
situation and government, has been recognized 
and adopted, as one entire system, by the Consti¬ 
tutions of several of the States. "It has been aa- 
Rnmed,” says Chancellor Kent, “by the Courts of 
Justice, or declared by the Statutes, with the like 
modifications, as the law of tbe land in every State.” 
“It Is also,” continues the Chancellor, "the estab¬ 
lished doctrine, that English Statutes, passed be¬ 
fore the emigration of our ancestors, and applica¬ 
ble to onr situation, and in amendment of the law, 
constitute a part of tbe Common Law of this 
country.” 
“But,” says an inquirer, “if the law is unwritten, 
how are we to know what it is? How are wo to 
determine what has been established by immemo¬ 
rial usage?” In answer, I will again quote from 
the writings of Chancellor Kent:— "The best evi¬ 
dence of the Common Law is to be found in the 
decisions of the Courts of Justice, contained in 
numerous volumes of reports, and in the treatises 
and digests of learned men which have been mul¬ 
tiplying from tbe earliest period of tbe English 
history down to the present time. Tbe reports of 
judicial decisions contain the most certain evi¬ 
dence, and the most authoritative and precise ap¬ 
plication of the rules of the Common Law. Ad¬ 
judged cases become precedents for future cases 
resting upon analogous facts, and brought within 
the same reason; and the diligence of counsel, and 
the labor of judges, are constantly required, in the 
studying of the reports, in order to understand 
accurately their import, and the principles they 
establish.” 
It should here be stated that the Roman or Civil 
Law, which was collected and digested by order 
of the Emperor Justinian, in the former part of 
the Bixtb oentnry, constitutes in most European 
nations, in the new States of Spanish America, in 
the Province of Lower Canada, and in the State 
of Louisiana, the principal basis of their unwritten 
or Common Law. Imlac. 
Rochester, Dec., 1857. 
COIN IN FRANCE. 
The coin of France, until recently, has been 
almost exclusively silver, very little gold being seen. 
Within two or three years silver has been bought 
up all over Europe, at a premium, for shipment to 
India and China, and gold hat) consequently been 
forced Into circulation to supply the place of tbe 
departed silver. As a consequence of this, it Is 
stated that in the manufacturing towns of France, 
silver change 1b so Bcarce that there is not enough 
to pay tbe workmen with, and manufacturers are 
obliged to pay them lu groups—in other words, to 
give five or six of them a gold pieoe among 
them, which they must afterwards change into sil¬ 
ver, or agree to spend together at the stores. Tbe 
great establishments buy silver coin of the retail 
dealers at a premium, just aa a premium uised for¬ 
merly to be paid on gold. 
The Government has resorted to large circula¬ 
tion of gold coins of the value of five francs. 
They cannot go lower. On the other hand, the 
demand for silver continues and is likely rather to 
increase. The last mail to the East carried out a 
very little short of $4,000,000. The disturbances 
in India are likely to prevent any reduction in 
these shipments for some time to come. 
But France has a simple and easy remedy. The 
Government has only to adopt the system of cur¬ 
rency which we have perfected here, viz:—That of 
a coinage of silver tokens, oiroulutiug for about 
ten per cent more than their intrinsic value, but, 
of limited tender as to amount, in order to confine 
their use exclusively to the small transactions for 
which they are required. The change has been 
long under the consideration of the French Gov¬ 
ernment, and will no doubt be Boon adopted. 
How to Make Money. —Let the business of ev¬ 
erybody else alone, and attend to your own; don’t 
buy what you don't want; use every hour to ad¬ 
vantage, and study to make leisure hours useful; 
think twice before you throw away a shilling—re¬ 
member you will have another to make for ii; find 
recreation over your own business; buy low, sell 
fair, and take care of the profits; look over your 
books regularly, and, if you find an error trace it 
out; should a stroke of misfortune oome over your 
trudo, retrench, work harder, but never fly the 
track; confront difficulties with unceasing perse¬ 
verance, and they will disappear ut lost; though 
you should fail in the struggle, you will be hon¬ 
ored; but shrink from tbe task and you will he de¬ 
spised. _ . ^_ 
Within thine own bosom are the stars of thy 
destiny.— Schiller. 
For Moors’* Rural New-Yorker. 
“ARE NOT ANGELS WITH US HERE.” 
Thkrb are angels all around up. 
If but our listening ears 
Would catch tbe spirit whispers 
In the melody it hears. 
They fan our weary teelinge 
With their soft and noiseless wings. 
And heat a heavenly measure 
Upon life's quivering strings. 
They hover round ut the even 
In twilight's fragrant bowers, 
And their g<*otie presence greets ns 
’Mid earth’s sweet blooming flowers. 
And soft, their pearly teardrops 
Oft kins our saddened life, 
And gem with dews of summer 
The hours of sorrow's strife. 
I know they hover o'er ns, 
To guide our erring feet, 
And carry up life’s record 
To yonder “ Mercy Seat." 
Seneca, N. Y., Dec., 1857. A. A. 
- -4 • 4 -- 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH GOD. 
Certainly the greatest, tho noblest pleatares of 
intellectual creatures must result from their ac- 
qnaimance with the blessed God, aud their own 
rational and immortal souls. And oh, how divine¬ 
ly pleasant and entertaining It is to look into our 
souls, when w can find all oar powers and passions 
united and engaged in pureait after God, our whole 
soul longing aud passionately breathing after a 
conformity to Him, and the full enjoyment of Him. 
Verily, no hours pass away with so much divine 
pleasure, sa those that are spent in communion 
with God and our own hearts. How sweet is a 
spirit “f devotion, of seriousness, and solemnity; a 
spirit oi Gospel simplicity, love and tenderness! 
Ob, how dosirable and profitable f« a spirit of holy 
watchfulness and Godly jealousy over ourselves; 
when our souls aro afraid of notbiug bo much as 
that we shall grieve and offend the blessed God, 
whom at such times w»- apprehend, or at least 
hope, to be a father ami friend; whom we then 
love and long to please, rather than to be happy 
ourselves, or at least we delight to derive our hap¬ 
piness from pleasing and glorifying Him. Surely 
this is a pious temper, worthy of the highest ambi¬ 
tion and closest pursuit of intelligent creatures.— 
Ob, how vastly superior is tht* pleasure, peaoe and 
satisfaction derived from these frames, to that 
which we sometimes seek in things impertinent 
and trifling!— Drainerd. 
THE AUTUMN OF LIFE. 
Not many months before the death of the late 
Judge Davis, on the occasion of a dinner-party at 
his house, at which Mr. Justice Story aud other 
eminent jurists and lawyers were present^ the con¬ 
versation turned on the comparative advantages 
ol tbe different periods of life. Soma thought 
that the seasons of youth aud manhood were full¬ 
est of enjoyment, and others gave the preference, 
for solid satisfaction, to the period of ago. Judge 
Davia did not state his opinion until he was Invited 
to do so; aud then, Ju that calm and benignant 
manner for which he was remarkable, he said:— 
“In the warm season of tho year it is my delight 
to bo in the country, and every pleasant evening 
while I am there, I love to sit at the window and 
look upon some beautifal trees which grow near 
my house. The murmuring of the wind through 
the branches, the gentle play of the leaves, and the 
flickering of light npon them, when the moon Is 
up, fill me with an indescribable pleasure. As the 
autumn comes on, l feel very Bad to see these leaves 
falling one by one; but when they are all gone, I 
find that they were only a screen before my eyes; 
for I experience a new and higher satisfaction as 
I gaze through the naked branches at the glorious 
stars beyond.” 
- 
The Glory of Christ. — How wonderful was 
the Son of God in the form of a servant! When 
he is born, a new star must appear and conduct 
the strangers to worship him in a manger; heav¬ 
enly hosts with their Bongs must celebrate his 
nativity; while a child must dispute with doctors; 
when he enters upon hU office, ho turns water into 
wine; feeds thousands with a few loaves and fishes; 
cleanses the lepers, heals tbe sick, restores the 
lame, givea sight to the blind, and raises the dead. 
How wonderful, then, is his celestial glory! If 
there l»e snoh cutting down of boughs and spread- 
log of garments, and crying llosuunah for the one 
that comes luto Jerusalem riding on an ass, wbat 
will there be when be comes with his angels in bis 
glory? If they that neard him preuoh the gospel 
of the kingdom confess, “Never man spake like 
thiB man,” they, then, that behold his majesty in his 
kingdom, will say, "There was never glory like 
this glory.”— Baxter. 
Ourselves and our Savior.—O, did we but 
know oursclvuB and our Saviour ! We are poor, 
but he is rich—we are dead, but he is life—we are 
sin, but he is righteousness—we aro misery, but 
he is mercy—wo are lost, but he is salvation. If 
we are willing, he never was otherwise. He ever 
lives, ever loves, ever pities, ever pleads. He loves 
and saves to the uttermost, all who come unto him. 
Prayer. —Bowed knee aud beautifal words can¬ 
not make prayer; but earnest. doBires from a heart 
bowed by love, inspired by God’s Holy Spirit, and 
thirsting for loving God, will do it, anywhere, or in 
any place, at any time.— Dr. Cummmg. 
No humility is perfeot and proportioned, but 
that whioh makes us hate ourselves as corrupt, 
hut respect ourselves as Immortal; the humility 
that kneelB in the dost, but gazes on the Bkies.— 
Archer Butler. 
- - 4 '» ---— 
Tn k darkest and most embarrassing trials are 
sometimes the only means by which men can be 
brought to give up their own self-dependence, and 
trust in tho Lord with all their hearts 
The Bible is a window in this prison of hope 
through whioh we look into eternity. 
