•t*S. ,V » . 
ii lack of faith in her modest and praiseworthy 
pretensions, and would, therefore, be as unkind 
as it would be unprofitable. No, no! it cannot 
be this, for 1 have no doubt that she would 
willingly pay postage both ways as an evidence 
of her devotion to—her country! But oh! I 
fear the Fates are against me. 
But of this enough, I wish now to say a few 
words seriously to the noble and patriotic 
daughters of America who read the Rural. 
This practice of advertising for correspondents 
I have no 
moves along! You really begin to think he is 
“somebody;” but wait a little, be will soon 
come down to his level. There is nothing about 
him noble or refined; how can ha rise? Perhaps 
you can think of another that is poor but ambi¬ 
tious, and possesses a fund of natural talent. 
You may think he will never amount to much, 
but he has got such a position to reach before be 
will find his level, and reach it lie will. 
We often wonder at the company people keep, 
and talk about the strange marriages that are 
every day taking place: but there is nothing 
strange after all. “Birds of a feather flock 
together" always. That young lady that puts 
on so many airs, and tries to cut such a swell, 
may think there is not a man in the world good 
enough for her; but she never will marry until 
she finds her level, and he may be a chimney 
sweep. Say what you will, there must be an 
equilibrium. Oil ami water will not unite. 
Some are created with five talents, and some 
have only one; no one is accountable for more 
than he or she may have. Every one is fitted 
for some station, and no one can rise above his 
level. x, 
March, 1864. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
WORK IS PRAYER. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
GRANDMOTHER. 
Through the clouds of gold and purple, 
Slow the sun is sinking, 
Fetlock deep wit hin the river 
Stand the cattle, drinking; 
On the bridge above the nnll-stroam, 
Rests the maiden,—thinking, 
Nut-brown hair that mocks the sunset 
With its goldeu gleaming, 
Hands above her pitcher folded, 
With the graceful seeming 
Of an antique sculptured Nereid, 
By a fountain dreamiug. 
As a tender thought bad swayed her, 
O'er the stream she’s leaning, 
While her red Ups curve and quiver 
With a snddcu meaning, 
And a quick nod shakes her ringlets, 
Ail her featarca screening. 
For there comes a sound of laughter, 
And a merry cheering; 
And the cattle turn their faces 
To a step that's nearing— 
And she waits for words low spoken 
In a tone endearing. 
Low behind the western tree-tops 
Now the sun is sinking, 
Toward the bridge the weary cattle 
Turn themselves from driuking— 
Alii they uever guessed as l did, 
What the maid was thinking. 
!1Y A. S. IIOOKEl! 
BY KYRA MYRTLE 
Where'er ye work, let beauteous Faith 
Walk hand in hand with Toil; 
On buttle-floldor woodland path, 
Or broadly furrowed soil 
Each hammer stroke shall echo back 
A blessing through the air, 
And joy shall mark each forward track, 
For earnest work is prayer. 
O toiler, take the gliding plow, 
And write on hill or plain,— 
As age writes furrows on your brow,— 
A prayer for precious grain; 
Cast forth, with hand of faith and care, 
Your treasures to the mold; 
God will write answer to your prayer 
In waving green and gold. 
O reaper, on the battle fluid, 
Each S'Wtird stroke for the right, 
Each thunder from the arm you wield 
Shall aid to win the fight; 
New strengt h shall come unto your hand, 
And God your toil will share, 
And bring down blessings on your laud, 
Each earnest stroke is prayer. 
Each axe stroke in the forest's gloom, 
Each hammer in the mine, 
Each shuttle flying in the loom, 
Each keel that, plows the brine, 
Each stroke Of honest labor done, 
A crown of light shall bear; 
By toil the blessing mast be won, 
For faithful work I- prayer. 
Lima, N. Y., 1861. 
Placed in the cosiest comer, 
Sits an old-fashioned armed chair; 
Where the fire, brighter and warmer, 
Dances with flicker and glare- 
Covered with curtain and cushion, 
Stnflbd with the softest of dawn, 
Whether in parlor or kitchen. 
It never is met with a frown. 
One sits there cheerfully smiling, 
Whom we all cherish and love; 
Cares of our childhood beguiling, 
Cares her hand only can smooth 
How to her side tve all hasten, 
When we are weary or grieved 
She every burden can lessen, 
AH childish sorrows relieve 
Then how we all love to listen 
To stories siie only can till 
While the snow o'er the fields glisten, 
And merrily jingles the bells— 
How George wished to act out the tyrant, 
And levy a tax on ng all; 
Bnt, like true foernen, defiant, 
Resisted with powder and ball— 
How a few 'gainst King George's proud forces 
Spilled their blood at old Lexington; 
Rushed madly o'er friend’s mangled corses, 
Led on by the brave Washington . 
And her husband and two brave sons left her 
Alone with their love and tlieir God, 
But death, of her brave boys, bereft her; 
They purchased otir peace with their blood. 
She will tell how their hearts all grew weary 
Of bloodshed and slaughter and strife; 
Whilethe struggle seemed hopeless and dreary— 
The struggle for freedom and life. 
And her dim eye will glisten and brighten, 
As she lives those scenes over again, 
When the clouds from her country’s sky lightened 
And peace blessed her valleys again. 
But wo know that not long ran she linger— 
Her step grows more feeble each day; 
On her brow Is the trace of time's finger, 
And we feel she will soon pass away. 
But she at the thought is cal tn on! y, 
For she knows in whorn is her trust— 
But oar hearth stone will seem, O, so lonely, 
When grandmother sleeps in the dust. 
ill the army is indeed dangerou; 
doubt, that many well meaning- and Teally 
worthy youtig women are caught iu this snare, 
by the belief that they are rendering the brave 
soldiers an important service in that way. But 
let me tell you that you are egregiously mistaken. 
I am a soldier, and write what i know to be so. 
Whatever may be the spirit thrown into the 
letter the soldier writes, he does not write in 
good faith; nor does he look upon you as virtu¬ 
ous women, worthy of his respect. And this is 
the very reason why he pledges so freely his.fidri- 
ity and his honor, while he seeks to lead you on 
step by step. That there may b* exceptions to 
this I will not deny, but this is the general rule. 
I could not desire to say anything to lower the 
esteem of our brave boys in the army: there are 
many of America's noblest sons in the ranks; 
hut it is not ilie young men of worth that insert, 
or reply to. advertisements of this character. 
The soldier's life is indeed a hard one. Its many 
privations and exposures make it quite a con¬ 
trast to the lives we were leading at our pleas¬ 
ant homes ere the crest of old Mars cast its 
ominous shadow upon our land, and it is the 
earnest w ish of every true soldier that “ when 
this cruel war is over" he may receive every 
acknowledgement of respect and appreciation 
to which his worthy deeds shall entitle him, 
from the fathers and mothers, and, most of all, 
their virtuous and patriotic daughters. But 
don't think us any the better now' for being 
soldiers, for when we do our best we are only 
doing our duty. 
If you really wont to relieve our sufferings, 
there are many ways in which it can be done; 
but don’t deceive yourselves with the belief that 
you are doing any good by advertising your¬ 
selves as correspondents of soldiers, or by reply¬ 
ing to any of the many advertisements inserted 
by them in the columns of some of the unprin¬ 
cipled papers. So fax is jt from being a benefit, 
that it is directly the reverse—an actual injury. 
PERSONAL GOSSIP. 
—Charles D. Warner, Editor of the Hart¬ 
ford Evening Express, is to address the Literary 
Societies of Hamilton College at the next com¬ 
mencement. 
—IT is slated that Brigadier-General Yodgks, 
of Fort Pickens' fame, has been appointed to 
succeed Gem Seymour, late Commander of the 
disastrous Florida expedition. 
—Lieut. Walter L andor Dickens, doing 
duty with the 42d Highlanders, second son of 
Charles Dickens, died on the last day of the 
old year in officers’ hospital at Calcutta. 
—It is stated that the Archduke Joseph of 
Austria is about to ask. through the Duke of 
Saxe-Ooburg of Gotha, for the hand of the third 
daughter of Victoria, the Princess Helena, 
who will see her 18th birthday in May. 
—Major Geo. N. Lewis, of the 12th Con¬ 
necticut. was struck with a canister shot, 
weighing about four ounces, which made a hole 
clear through him, shattering his Collar bone, 
bis shoulder blade, and splintering Iris spine. It 
did not displace the vertebra. It left a hole 
through him, through which it is said a stick 
can now be passed. The Hartford Times an¬ 
nounces that he is in town, and that this wound 
promises to heal, and that his life will be saved! 
—Gkn. Butler has remitted the sentence of 
Rev, Mr. Wingfield, of Norfolk, directing his 
employment in sweeping the streets for a term 
of three months, for notoriously disloyal prac¬ 
tices. “lli- punishment” says Gen. Butler, 
“isremitted, not from respect for the man, or 
for his acts, or because it Is unjust, but because 
its nature may be supposed to reflect upon the 
Christian Church, which, by his connection 
with it, has been already too much disgraced.” 
—Speaking of the appearance of Gen. Grant 
at the President's levee at Washington, a cor¬ 
respondent of a Connecticut paper writes:— 
“ General Grant is of about the medium 
height, with light complexion, though quite 
dark hair, and with the closely trimmed beard 
and moustache he now* wears, bears little resem¬ 
blance to the picture with patriarchal append¬ 
ages, which is sold for his likeness. There is 
little in his appearance, or the unassuming 
modesty of his manner, that would attract 
notice, but the close observer will detect, in his 
clear blue eye and compressed mouth, the evi¬ 
dences of that invincible determination that 
made him the victor at Vicksburg and Cbat- 
tauooga. 1 could but smile at .the sturdy tread 
I with which he marched forward, in promenad¬ 
ing, as if advancing to storm a redoubt., or like a 
pedestrian doing his thousand miles in a thou¬ 
sand hours—the comparatively slight attention 
he bestowed on even his distinguished lady 
partner, evincing that his claims to gallantry 
were to be vindicated on the battle-field rather 
than in the boudoir—and contrast it with the 
dilettante air with which T remembered to have 
seen N. I’. Willis escort a lady through the 
same room, on a former occasion. 
- Eh ex Mkkiam, long known as the Brook¬ 
lyn weather prophet, died recently of dropsy of 
the heart, at his residence in Brooklyn, aged 09 
years. Of his labors as a meteorologist, the 
Tribune* ays:—Mr. Mkkiam exhibited a taste 
for scientific pursuits, and devoted bis attention 
more particularly to meteorological researches. 
His records of the latter branch of his studies 
are intact, and extend even to the day of his 
death. Ho originated the idea, founded upon 
his own. private observations, of cycles of at¬ 
mospherical phenomena, which he advanced in 
public, prints with considerable enthusiasm. 
He attained extended notoriety in this respect, 
not only in this country but iu Europe, and 
received many evidences of the correctness of 
his theory from scientific men abroad. He 
attained considerable notoriety as a careful com¬ 
piler of meteorological facts, and was frequently 
cited before the Courts to decide disputed points, 
His hourly records of the weather run hack for 
nearly thirty years. Failing health, and the 
unmerited criticisms which certain newspaper 
people were in the habit of casting upon his 
efforts to impart to the public the fruit of his 
observations, led him some years ago to discon 
tinue his articles on the weather. Since then, 
though the world has known but little of him, 
he has gone on in his old, quiet way, feeding 
the little birds which flew regularly to his gar¬ 
den by scores lor the seed and crumbs which 
he carefully provided for their sustenance, while 
lie was noting hourly, by day and by night, the 
changes of the barometer aud thermontfeter, and 
those other scientific facta upon which he pre¬ 
dicated those “heated terms,” and “frigid 
terms," for which his name was once so famous. 
Wrliieu for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
THE POWER OF INFLUENCE. 
The most insignificant causes frequently pro¬ 
duce momentous and unlooked for events. 
Trifles, seemingly light as air, change the whole 
teuor of our lives. “A sentence hath formed a 
character,” aud the influence of a word, or 
smile, often lingers about us through all the 
changes of an eventful life,—a guiding star, 
whose mellow ray illumines our dai’kened 
way, ever revealing forms of grace and beauty 
to our watchful eyes. 
It is said that, the fluttering of a bird’s wing on 
the snow-capped mountain top, has been the 
prime cause of the destruction of the inhabitants 
of the valleys below. We look upon the wide¬ 
spread desolation caused by the fulling ava- 
lauche, scarcely believing so fearful a destruc¬ 
tion of life and property could ho the result of 
so trivial a cause. If we reflected that we were, 
individually, exerting an influence which may, 
like the descending avalanche, become an agent 
of death upon whom it foil, or like the summer 
rain aud silvery dew—a fruitful source of life 
and beauty—we would, I think, more earnestly 
endeavor to live so purely that “ the beauty of 
ECHOES FROM SABBATH BELLS. 
If we feel true love to God, we shall prefer 
obedience to His will to all conflicting claims 
whatever. Nobody can pass through the world 
without finding conflicting attractions. One 
says, “Obey and follow me," aud another, “Obey 
and follow me;" but a Christian has one simple 
answer to every question that may be asked him 
in reference to everything in which he is en¬ 
gaged. Is it right? not, is it expensive? is it 
dangerous ? These last are questions that ought 
scarcely to be entertained. Is this the command¬ 
ment or the will of God?—makes the eye per¬ 
fectly single, and the whole body full of light; 
and like Jacob, after seeing God’s presence, you 
“lift up your feet” Joyfully and walk with elas¬ 
tic footsteps in the path that God has pointed 
out. Hence, a Christian prefers obedience to 
Him that he loves, when that obedience is set in 
thorns, to obedience to any other, when it is 
surrounded with the sunshine of this world’s 
wealth, greatness and power. The cross of 
Ghrist is more beautiful iu a Christian’s eye than 
the crown of Civsur, and the duty enjoined by 
this far more momentous than any command 
:, even when accompanied 
YOUNG WOMEN AND SOLDIERS 
invigorate the genus of virtue and truth in the 
hearts of all that fee! its life-giving influence, in¬ 
stead of casting upon those we meet an influence 
as destructive to the heavenly graces of the heart, 
us blighting frosts and storms of hail are to 
the tender herbs and fl agrant flowers of summer. 
“ We live not to ourselves," is true iu itsdeep* 
est and broadest sense; we each move in our 
own orbit, but, like the shining worlds above, 
having one common center are in a greater or less 
degree Affected by all that come within the 
circle of our influence. Every thought, word, 
act, or look, even, is helpiug to build up, not 
only our own character, but that of those with 
whom we associate, into monuments of enduring 
beauty or deformity; like the workmen on the 
Temple, Iaboriug silently, but uone the less 
effectively, in erecting a glorious structure, 
whose beautiful proportions delight the eye of 
every beholder, or whose unsightly shape is 
viewed with supreme disgust. 
Though there may be woven about us a net¬ 
work of influences, the subtle power of whose 
w'eb-like tissues arc like threefold cords, draw¬ 
ing us swiftly and surely up the shining way of 
holiness and life, or down the slippery steeps of 
sin and death, still they are sovereign In their 
power only when working in harmony with 
our own will. IVe possess a counter-balancing 
power by which we may overcome all the com¬ 
bined force of circumstances; an indomitable 
will breaks through the serried ranks, and pur¬ 
sues its own course in spite of every influence 
arrayed against it, and enables its possessor to 
pass through the scorching flames of unholy 
influences without so much as the smell of fire 
upon his garments. 
It is by yielding to, or resisting the tide of 
surrounding influences, that our life becomes a 
fearful failure—a gloomy cloud iu the social 
firmament, or a bright and beautiful star whose 
clear and steady light directs earth’s bewildered 
mariners to the quiet haven of truth and purity, 
where our tempest-tossed bark may repose 
securely in the sunlight of God’s unchanging 
love, unaffected by the fierce storms that sweep 
across life’s troubled sea. 
Brookfield, N. Y., 1864. F- M. T. Williams. 
that can be issued, 
| with the authority and impress of the other. 
But when obedience to the heavenly is in 
direct antagonism to obedience to the earthly, 
we roust make no delay, have no hesitation; be 
sure that what God says is duty, and at all haz¬ 
ards cleave to it; it is always proved that the 
path of duly is not only the safe, but in the 
long run the most, prosperous course, even in this 
world. Do w r hat is right, and justifying voices 
will come from every point of the world’s circum¬ 
ference; do what is w rong, and conscience will 
condemn — conscience, which makes cowards, 
iu such circumstances, of the bravest. If, there¬ 
fore, we have love, true love, not to Jaeob’s 
liachel, but to Jacob’s God, we shall prefer 
obedience to Him to any conflicting obedience, 
by whomsoever exacted. 
Love in the heart to God is the secret of joy. 
It smooths the way, it levels hills, it wades deep 
streams, it climbs without fatigue high moun¬ 
tains, makes all happy without, because all is 
harmony with God within. The world takes a 
bungling plan to secure its happiness. When a 
man begins to get a little dissatisfied with him¬ 
self, the worldly plan Is, to improve his grounds, 
lay out his estate afresh, aud try to find enjoy¬ 
ment by altering circumstances, just as if white¬ 
washing a sepulchre would scatter the darkness 
and the corruption that are within; but a Chris¬ 
tian knows, what lie has long been taught in 
God's blessed word, that the true way is, first to 
get the springs of happiness in the heart within, 
and then ho has love to God aud love to all 
mankind without. The inhabitant of the light¬ 
house lights the lamp within and the sailor fityds 
security without, aud rides in safety. The 
Christian has the light kindled within, and then 
all beauty, and harmony, and safety, and peace 
prevail outside.— Cummings. 
GOSSIPPY PARAGRAPHS. 
— A new waist, called the Folly waist, in¬ 
tended to supersede the Spanish waist, is thus 
described in Gorky's book :— u Suppose it to be 
made of silk. Take five pieces about ten inches 
long, somewhat of the hour-glass shape, meas¬ 
uring three and a half inches across the ends, 
which are pointed, and two inches at the nar¬ 
rowest part. which is rather below the center. 
These pieces are sewed together for the space of 
about six inches. The rest hangs on little points 
around the waist. Five more pieces of about 
the same size are taken for the back, having the 
tops round instead of pointed. They arc sewed 
together the same as the front. The side pieces 
of both back and front require to be rather 
shorter in order to lit nicely under the aim. 
Bones are put down every seam, aud the waist 
is laced under the arm. The trimming can be 
of velvet, leather ur bead gimp, edged on each 
side with a lace. It is placed dow u cadi seam, 
round all the points and down the center of each 
division." The Fashion editress says it is cer¬ 
tainly the prettiest waist she has Been, decidedly 
new, and will bo fashionable all summer. 
— Where are your canes, ladies? For, you 
must know that the Empress Eugenie, on her 
walking expeditions, carries a very handsome 
gold-headed cane. This is her constant habit; 
and as an excuse for it, it is asserted that in the 
days of Louis XV., the same fashion prevailed, 
aud that w alking canes grew' to he of the richest 
and most, expensive description. Will American 
ladies imitate the Empress? We shall see. 
— At one of the theatres in Berlin, all ladies 
are required to take off their bonnets before 
entering the theatre to take their places. At a 
theatre in Paris, hand-bills are posted, politely 
Many' Preachers study their sermons with¬ 
out studying the people to whom they are to 
preach them. Hence, their preaching, though 
good In the main, is not suited to the tastes and 
wants of their hearers. They either speak of 
things at a distance, or else in such a way that 
the people do not feci themselves much interested 
in what is delivered. Their words do not come 
home, do not reach the heart and conscience, but 
fall, like pointless arrows, short of the mark.— 
T. Rutherford, 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
HUMAN LEVEL. 
Every body know's what a water-level is, 
and the use to which it is applied; but I w'onder 
if everybody has as good an idea of a human 
level. I mean the principle confined within the 
breast of every person which keeps him front 
rising above the position which it was meant 
he should occupy. That is a strange idea, isn’t 
it?—in this country, where perseverance Under 
difficulties has been the theme of philosopher 
and poet. But ask yourself if it is not true; 
look over your circle of acquaintances, far and 
near, and see where there is one that has ever 
risen above hih level. Notice that young sprig 
that struts about the streets so pompously! he 
has no brains in his head though his jiockets 
may be lined with gold. How haughtily he 
Resignation.— A buffering, but godly man. 
was once asked if lie could see any reason for 
the dispensation which hail caused him so much 
agouy. “ No,” replied he, “ but l am just as 
well satisfied as if I could see ten thousand. 
God’s will is the perfection of all reason."— 
Spring. 
The men of the world are so clipped and rub¬ 
bed and polished, that God’s image aud inscrip¬ 
tion is worn from them. When He calls in his 
coin, He will not take them. 
