soever we are engaged; and if we try to record 
bv words our wonder, our sorrow, and our 
affection, wo cannot see to do it, for the “idea of 
“his life" is forever coming into our ‘‘study of 
imagination,” into all our thoughts, and we can 
do little else than let our mind, in a wise 
passiveness, hush itself to rest.—John Brown, 
M. D. 
Green, the color of 
of a carpet without green, 
promise. Tliis drear March day, and my som¬ 
bre reflections leave me little courage to search 
for that. But, through the little window comes 
a ray of sunshine, and down in a corner of the 
lane, where the snow had melted away, the 
grass is peeping up. Blessed token! Soon will 
the hills and valleys be clothed with the verdure 
of the coming harvest; the trees will hangout 
their million banners of victory over frost and 
snow, and with prosperity and peace, with the 
pathway to freedom, not *• under-ground,” hut 
green and pleasant to the weary feet, of Airies 
sons and daughters, there shall be seen a greener 
spot in our nation's history than over before. 
Do you wonder, gentle reader, that things 
around which such associations cluster should 
he degraded to the level of a carpet. Know, 
then, that this is for no common room, soon to 
be worn out, but for the quiet little study where 
it will lie for many a year, and it will bo to the 
maker an album of reminiscences pleasant and 
sad. May Elliott. 
Writteu for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
OUR LITTLE DAISY. 
“ Ip any he distressed, nnd fain would gather 
Some comfort, let hitn haste unto 
Our Puther. ♦ 
For we of hope nnd help aro quite bereaven 
Except thou succour us 
Who art in heaven. 
Thou shewest mercy, therefore for the same 
We praise thee, singing. 
Hallowed he thy name. 
Of all our miseries east up the sum: 
Show ns thy joys, and let 
Thy kingdom come. 
We mortal are, and alter from our birth; 
Thou constant art, 
Thy will bo done on earth, 
Thou mud eat the earth as well as planets seven, 
Thy name be blessed here 
As ‘tis in heaven. 
Nothing we have to use or debts to pay, 
Except thou give it us. 
Give us this day 
Wherewith to clothe us, wherewith to be fed, 
For without thee we want 
Our daily bread. 
We want, but we want no faults, for no day passes 
But wc do sin— 
Forgive us our trespasses, 
No man from sinning ever free did live; 
Forgive us Lord, our sins 
As we forgive. 
If we repent our faults, thou ne'er disdainest us; 
We pardon them 
That trespass against us; 
Forgive ns that Is past, a new path tread ns; 
Direct us always in thy faith, 
And lead ns— 
We thine own people and thy chosen nation, 
Into all truth, but 
Not. into temptation. 
Thou that of all good graces art the giver, 
Suffer ns not to wander, 
But deliver 
Us from the fierce assaults of world and devil 
And flesh, so shalt thou free 
Us from all evil 
To these petitions let both church and laymen, 
With one consent of heart and voice, say 
Amen.” 
BT ANNIE BIGELOW 
BY CLIO STANLEY 
He carried my satchel to school, 
And me through the drifts carried, too; 
Could 1 think why he hugged ine so close? 
If I couldn't, how could T? could you? 
At eve he tied under iny chin 
My hood, with its bright ribbons blue; 
Why be gazed In my face could I tell? 
If I couldn't, how c«uld I • could you? 
He told me my eyes wore so black, 
The brightest of any he knew; 
I blushed and looked down—could I help it? 
ir I couldn't, how could I? could you? 
He left on my cheek? a warm kiss, 
Then oil' with the lightning speed flew; 
If I conld I'd have scolded and stamped; 
If I couldn't, how could I? could you? 
’Twas long years ago. and since then 
He has spoken words loving and trne; 
I only leaned close to his breast. 
For how could I help it? conld yon? 
Ybahs ago a merry child 
With a winsome face 
Dimpled o'er with laughter sweet,— 
And a form of gruee; 
Sunshine on heT fair young brow, 
Loveligbt in her eyes, 
That seemed opened evermore 
In a glad surprise,— 
Crossed our threshold at the dawn 
Of an April day, 
Scattering with her tiny feet 
The rainy rears away; 
Making ns with joy half crazy, 
Oh! our bonnie little Daisy! 
Since that happy April morn, 
Years agoue! years agone! 
When oar loving little maiden 
Greeted us at dawn, 
All the old house seemeth brighter 
For her cheerfulness, 
And our hearts arc'daily lifted 
Up in t hankfulness; 
Like a robin in the morning. 
Sounds her song of glee,— 
Oh! there ne'er was music sweeter 
In the world tome; 
Making us with joy half wild; 
Oh! our merry Daisy-child! 
True, since then she has grown older, 
Quietly sedate, 
And the sunlight falls in shadow 
On her little pate; 
But to ns she's slill the same 
Happy little child, 
Sometimes full of mirth and gladness, 
Sometimes fond and mild; 
Opportunities still seeking 
To make others glad, 
Rousing -with hear bird-like laughter 
Those who may be sad; 
Still to ns our nndefiled, 
Gentle, little Daisy-child. 
Philadelphia, Pa., ISM. 
HOMES OF AMERICA 
The homes of America will not become what 
they should be until a true idea of life shall have 
become move widely implanted. The worship 
of the dollar does more to degrade American 
homes, and the life of those homes, than any¬ 
thing, than all things else. Money is the God of 
almost universal worship. The chief end of life 
is to gather gold, ui*l that gold is counted lost 
which hangs apictUre upon the wall, which pur¬ 
chases flowers for the yard, which buys a toy or 
a book for the eager hand of child hood. Is this the 
whole of human life? Then it is a mean, mea¬ 
ger and most undesirable thing? A child will 
go forth from such a home as a horse will go 
out from the stall—glad to find free air and a 
wide pasture. The influence of sueli a home 
upon him in after life will be just none at all, or 
nothing good. Thousand? are rushing from 
homes like these every year. They crowd Into 
cities. They crowd into villages: they swarm 
into all places where life is clothed with ahigher 
significance; and the old shell of home is desert¬ 
ed by every bird as soon as it can fly. Ances¬ 
tral homestead and patrimonial acres have no 
saeredness : and when the father and mother die, 
the stranger's money and the stranger’s presence 
obliterate associations that* should be among the 
most sacred of all thing?. 
I would have you build up for yourselves and 
for your children a home that, will not be lightly 
parted with—a home which shall be to all 
whose lives have been associated with it, the 
most interesting and precious upon earth. I 
would have that home the abode ,of dignity, 
propriety, beauty, grace. love, genial fellowship, 
and happy associations. Out from such a home 
I would have good influences flow into neighbor¬ 
hoods and communities. In such a home I would 
see noble ambition taking root, and receiving all 
generous culture. And then l would see you, 
young husband and young wife, happy. Do 
not deprive yourselves of such influence as 
will come to you through an institution like this. 
No money can pay you for such a deprivation 
No circumstances but those of utter poverty can 
justify you in denying those influences to your 
chi Id ren.— Titcomb. 
ANNA E. DICKINSON IN WASHINGTON. 
We have the following picture of her from 
the Washington Chronicle which contains suf¬ 
ficient enthusiasm to satisfy her most ardent 
admirers: 
“That, was a wonderful sight on Saturday 
night in the Capitol. A young girl but twenty- 
one years old — dismissed scarcely eighteen 
months ago from bread-getting employment, in 
the Philadelphia mint, for criticising, in a wo¬ 
man’s literary club, the soldiership aud policy 
of General McCleilan —conducted to the Speak¬ 
er's chair of the House of Representatives by 
the Vice-President of the United States, follow¬ 
ed there by the Speaker of the House, and intro¬ 
duced by the Vice-President to an audience that 
crowded all sitting and standing room in the 
great hall, among whom were the President of 
the United States, the most distinguished of the 
Senators and Representatives, the heads of de¬ 
partments and bureaus, and the chief of the men 
of talents and devotion, who, at the Capital of 
the Nation, urge the great war for liberty; a 
girl of twenty-one, modest and beautiful: pow¬ 
erful in her inspirations, yet child-like as a cot¬ 
ter’s child: queenly at times in her poses and 
her passion; yet garbed like a Quakeress at a 
casement: wholly under the dominion of im¬ 
perial truth and duty, vet speaking without any 
show of authority; positive, yet modest; un¬ 
compromising, yet modest; passionately radical, 
still modest and girl-like; scornful in just hates, 
the escape of the electric fervor against wrong, 
of which God makes a child his medium; hitter 
in sarcasm?, which flash off from her young 
soul without harm to it, as lightnings flash off 
from conducting points of gold; full of rebuke, 
which does but utter truth and has no accom¬ 
paniment of conceit: boundless in her love of 
humanity, for which she moans, and prays, ami 
demands, with au inspiration that only can be 
kindled from the altar upon which Christ laid 
himself down for the equality and fraternity of 
his race; a young, red-lipped, slim-waisted girl, 
with curls cut short, as if for school, with eyes 
black w ith the mirthfulne-ss of a child, save 
when they blaze with the passions of a prophet¬ 
ess, holding spell-bound, in the Capitol of the 
Nat ion, for an hour and ten minutes, three thou¬ 
sand politicians, statesmen, and soldiers, while 
she talked to them of politics, statesmanship and 
war! It was a wonderful sight, and it was a 
wonderful success.” 
Written lor Moon's Rural Now-Yorker. 
EVERY-DAY LIFE 
15T LEAD PENCIL, ESQ. 
“I’ve lived a great while,” said Abram 
Jameson to me the other day, “ and I have yet 
to see the strictly upright., industrious man, 
who has not succeeded according to the best and 
true definition of that word, success.’’ 
I was thinking of it yesterday, when I met a 
man whom the world calls successful, hut whose 
glittering surface covers only rotten wood. And 
the better I get acquainted with men, the less I 
find of them that commands my admiration. 
And this i? not because I am pre-disposed to 
judge men wrongfully: but it is because of the 
false policies men who mingle in public life 
seem compelled to adopt in order to gain influ¬ 
ence and position. For the doctrine is, if you 
work to subserve my interests 1 will serve you; 
but if you thwart me in my schemes, I will 
grind you to powder.—you will find an un¬ 
chained lion in your path. You need not plead 
the righteousness of your position—that is no 
longer an integer in estimating policy. It is not 
recognized. Truth is two-sided. Every man is 
willing to swear to tell the truth; bur he tells it 
with mental reservation. He does not purpose 
to criminate himself—nor Ills friends! If he 
can tell the truth and compass an enemy, it is 
spoken glibly. If he has no truth that will 
serve such a purpose, lie manufactures an article 
and swears it is truth. Thank God, all men do 
not do so; hut such is the tendency these days, 
and it is winked at by men whose positions give 
them potent influence. There is a false honor 
among men, too current, which pledges faith to 
criminality and covci up malfeasance will) a 
cloak which is not charity. Secret pledges are 
given and received by men of which the public 
know nothing; hut which control men and 
measures and give direction to events which 
astonish and alarm the uninitiated. If you and 
I do uot fraternize with such combinations, in 
some shape, we are of “no account,” and our 
wisdom aud worth is unavailable, almost. If a 
man stands in the way, upright, conadentiow 
with edear eye, penetrating and refusing to 
cover up and countenance evil, systematic effort 
is made to undermine his foundations. Sud¬ 
denly his enemies praise him! They seek for 
the weakest spot in the battlements of his integ¬ 
rity aud carry it by a?-ault. These assaults are 
of various kinds. If praise and flattery are the 
weapons which produce the most effect, they 
are applied with wonderful vigor. Woe to a 
man when all men praise him, in these degene¬ 
rate days! Woe to him if self-love is excited 
by the tongues of tricksters! 
Alas! “success” requires a new definition. 
It requires an enumeration of the virtues which 
men lose who win it in the estimation of the 
rabble. The evils which follow fast in the train 
of “Success” should be catalogued. This work 
is too large for this pencil, to-night. But let the 
reader write down the successful men among 
his acquaintances, aud analyze the characters of 
the men whose names may comprise his list. I 
venture the assertion he will learn something, 
before he get? through, which will benefit him, 
if he has the leaven of wisdom in him. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
THE NEW CARPET. 
Written for tlic Rural New-Yorker. 
THE VOYAGE OF LIFE 
Not a Brussels or an Axminster—not a three- 
ply nor even a common ingrain will I have until 
the war is over — nothing hut a rag carpet. 
Homely, are they? Not this one, for every 
inch of warp and woof will pass through inter¬ 
ested fingers, and so smoothly cut and so deftly 
sewed shall be every strip, that no knot shall 
appear on the surface to weary the housewife as 
she plies the broom. It is a rainy day and I will 
visit the garret aud begin the good work. How 
many things arc stored away to invite the moth! 
For once they shall be cleared out and put to 
use. Where can I find any red? Ah! I have 
it. Grandmother’s scarlet cloak. Gay and 
bright it has looked all those years and many 
have wondered at the taste. But Dame Fashion 
ruled in those days full as rigorously its now, 
and grandmother, in her scarlet cloak, on the 
pillion behind her dignified husband in ruffles 
and small-clothes, made no mean figure. Times 
have changed. Now, husband and wife ride 
side by side, perhaps the wife will take the reins 
yet, who knows ? But I am forgetting my car¬ 
pet. These old curtains will do for the white. 
Well do I remember the time I hung them at 
the nursery window— for mischievous Harry 
made sad work with the light ones as he played 
bo-peep. Ah! me! nobody to make any such 
trouble now. Long since was the little one hid¬ 
den from earthly sight; but we shall find him 
one day. 
This blue coat—it has not lain here long, but 
it looks as if it had seen hard service. How 
earnestly did Cousin Mary plead that I should 
take away from her sight every article of cloth¬ 
ing which reminded her of the soldier-life of 
her boy. “ Leave only the rifle” she said, “that 
will be enough for me. It was given him by 
his company, for his bravery iu the battle-field.” 
They miss their Captain now, hut when the 
opening Spring calls them anew to the contest, 
they will not forget Gettysburg, where he fell; 
and his memory will inspire them as his pres¬ 
ence has done. 
And so I have the red, the white, the blue— 
our nation’s colors. Side by side shall they lie 
in the carpet, and the red shall speak to me of 
the baptism of blood through which our na¬ 
tional garment? shall he made white. And the 
blue, is not that the true emblem of union? 
Does not the same blue canopy overhang the 
North, the .South, the East and West- 
“Auntie, auntie, where did you find tliis 
splendid ‘ red-riding hood?’ I’lease lend it to 
mo for the exhibition. It is for the soldiers, 
you know, and we want all kinds of queer cos¬ 
tume,” and so saying, Madge, who had entered 
unperceived, threw it over her shoulders and 
danced merrily around. 
“ What are you going to do with all these old 
things—make a carpet? You ought to have 
some of mother’s orange. Do you know it was 
so bright that WILLIE begged some for his com¬ 
pany’s uniform ? Didn’t my fingers ache sew¬ 
ing on the stripes for him.” Yes, surely, the 
orange shall go with the blue, and it shall look 
as bright and cheery as the uniform of Co. A., 
when they left us so full of life and spirit. I 
will try to forget that the stripes on one wore 
dimmed by tears, as wc laid him away in the 
quiet church-yard. That reminds me that I 
must have some black—aud well I may. Does 
not one broad belt of mourning engirdle our 
land? Until this bloody strife is over let our 
flag hear the badge of mourning for the brave. 
We do well to rejoice over victories won, 
And yet, aud yet, 
We cannot forget, 
That many brave boys must fall. 
Have I colors enough now ? Who ever heard 
PERSONAL GOSSIP. 
HIGH DRESSES. 
Illinois, died at Brooklyn, N. Y., March 25th, 
aged 63 years. He was a tnan of marked ability 
as a debater. He belonged to the “ radical ” 
party—his hatred of slavery, and its defenders, 
being earnest, intense, honest. And this hatred 
was based upon or intensified by the murder of 
his anti-slavery brother, in Alton, Ill., in 1837, 
by a pro-slavery mob. He was a popular poli¬ 
tician at home. 
— A lady, who having recently visited the 
Army of the Potomac, thug briefly describes the 
Generals she saw there:—“1 saw Gen. Meade, 
who is tall and slender, has a full iron-gray 
beard, wears eye glasses, and did not strike me¬ 
ns more formidable or ferocious than other men. 
I saw Gen. Kilpatrick, who, instead of being 
the tall, dashing, flashing-eyed hero of our Im¬ 
agination, is small and slight, with lightish hair, 
and laughs unceasingly. I saw Gen. Sedgwick, 
who i? merry-looking, and not at all the austere 
patriot he has been represented.” 
_Of Lady Franklin a foreign correspond¬ 
ent writes:- “I have had the pleasure, this 
week, of meeting the venerable Lady Franklin, 
whose history is so well known in the United 
States, and for whom there has always existed 
such a universal sympathy. Your readers will 
be surprised to learn that, although past her 
seventieth year, she is now contemplating an¬ 
other of her wonderful journeys. This time 
she goes (if site finally determines upon It) pri¬ 
marily upon a mission of great interest, of which 
more will he heard hereafter if she carries out 
her designs. I may venture to say that her 
first destination is tho .Sandwich Islands, from 
whence she will probably proceed to Australia. 
She talks as quietly and unostentatiously about 
Such an enterprise as you might do of a trip to 
Cape May, ami the long sea voyage appears to 
have no more terrors lor her than a 1’hiladcl- 
phiau would feel in contemplating a passage to 
Camden or Smith's Island. 1 am happy to say 
that she is in excellent health and spirits, and 
that she expresses her sentiments concerning 
the United States, and her attachment to the 
American people, generally, in a way that does 
one good to hear. She will never forget the 
sympathy ami assistance she received from them, 
aud says that they constitute almost the haj>- 
piest reminiscences of her long and eventful life.” 
We are thankful for at least one of dame 
Fashion's freaks: she lias turned her back upon 
low-necked dresses, and rather insists that col¬ 
lar-bones and shoulder-blades shall be covered. 
It is certainly a great improvement—not only 
because the study of anatomy iu private parlors 
is not desirable, and that American damsels are 
apt to run to bone as some tall flowers do to seed, 
and because spinsters of uncertain age, fearful of 
being outdone by their nieces, presented such 
vast expanse of yellow neck and shoulder to the 
view ::t evening parties as wore calculated to 
alarm uervous people seriously; hut because 
since custom obliges us to wear garments, there 
cun certainly be no reason why we should leave 
the most delicate portion ol‘ our frame without 
protection. Plump shoulders aud arms are 
pretty. But so (let us whisper) are plump legs. 
The mother who should fail to provide her 
daughter with stockings would be considered a 
cruel wretch,yet a year ago she might neglect to 
cover her chest and arms with impunity. We 
trust this state of things is over. We hope 
that the wisdom which causes every prudent 
parent to protect the pretty shoulders of her lit¬ 
tle girls with comfortable w oolenBarques or capes 
will be appreciated; that sense will conquer van¬ 
ity, and that in a little while it will be as absurd 
to Hee a women in a low-necked dress as It. would 
to-day to see a man in a low-necked coat.— Sun- 
day Times. 
THE SUNSET OF LIFE, 
When, toward the close of some long sum¬ 
mer day, we come suddenly, and, as we think, 
before his time, upon the broad sun, “sinking 
down in his tranquillity” Into the unclouded 
west, we carniot keep our eyes from the great 
spectacle; and when he is gone tho shadow of 
him haunts our sight: we see everywhere, upon 
the spotless heaven, upon the distant mountains, 
upon the fields, and upon the road at our feet, 
that dim, strange, changeful image; and if our 
eyes shut to recover themselves, wo still find iu 
them, like a dying flame, or like a gleam in a 
dark place, the unmistakable phantom of the 
mighty orb that has set; and were we to sit 
down, a? we have often done, and try to record, 
by pencil or by pen, our impression of that 
supreme hour, still would it be there. We 
must have patience with our eye, it would not 
let the impression go; that spot on which tho 
radiant disc was impressed is insensible to all 
other outward tilings for a time; Us best relief 
is to let tho eye wander vaguely over earth and 
sky, and repose itself on the mild, shadowy dis¬ 
tance. So it is when a great, good, and beloved 
man departs, set, it may be, suddenly, and to us, 
who know not the times and the seasons, too 
soon. We gaze eagerly at his last hours, and 
when he is gone, never to rise again on our sight, 
we see his image wherever we go, and in what¬ 
Jesus —A Surety ok a Better Testa, 
mknt, — (lleb. 7: 2*2.) —Jesus is become the 
surety of the hotter covenant, since in Hi? per¬ 
son security and certainty is given to men that a 
better covenant than that under Moses i? made 
and sanctioned by God. For Christ, tho Son ot 
God, became man to publish this covenant on 
earth, has scaled it with His sufferings and 
death, and by His resurrection from the dead 
was declared with power to be seut by God as 
the Founder of such a covenant ,—Extract from 
Lunemam . 
Tbe Foundation of a home.—No home is 
possible without love. All business marriages 
and marriages of convenience, all mere culinary 
marriages and marriages of more animal passion, 
make the creation of a true home impossible in 
the outset. Love is the jeweled foundation of 
this Kuw Jerusalem descending from God out of 
heaven, and takes as many bright forms as the 
amethyst, Lopas and sapphire of that mysterious 
vision. Iu this range of creative art, all things 
arc possible to him that loveUl, but, without love, 
nothing is possible.— Mrs. Stuwe. 
EXCELLENCY OF CHRIST. 
IIk is a path, it any be misled; 
He Is a robe, if any naked be 
If any chanco to hunger, He is bread : 
If any be a bondsman, he is free 
ir any be bat weak, how strong is he 1 
To dead men life lie is, to siek men health; 
To blind men sight, nnd to the needy wealth; 
A pleasure without loss, a treasure without stealth 
[ QiUs Fletcher. 
Hope.—I cannot remember a night so dark as 
to have hindered the approach of coming day, 
nor a storm so furious or dreadful as to prevent 
the return of warm sunshine and a cloudless sky. 
—John Brown. 
