Mittf Srprlmmt. 
WHITE, PUREST WHITE. 
ON A LADY WHOM I MET IN THE STREET. 
White, pnre.-t white; her under dress, 
As passed my lady 'Jong the street. 
Showed such unspotted loveliness, 
Displayed so fully and so neat, 
Partaking of that snowy grace 
Which heaven accords to goula as pure, 
That I at once felt all the place 
Made Bacred as the name she bore. 
Mary! (for so I heard the voice 
That greeted tbee on that sweet morn,) 
Thon knowest not that I rejoice— 
A stranger, and at times forlorn— 
In the white drapery that flowed 
So purely beautiful to me; 
Yet ’twas to thee alone I owed 
That day’s high thought—ite poetry! 
Oh! ’twas an ait of heavenly truth. 
Of virtue, holiness and love, 
That, from thy form of sweetest youth, 
Gliding along where thousands move, 
Flowed all around me, made the spot 
So clean and pure to my poor soul, 
That, for the moment 1 forgot 
The sin of earth, in heaven’s control. 
White, purest white! I feitthe power; 
How bright the mystic emblem shone! 
As if it were an angel’s bower. 
Where all things body forth their own. 
Fair lady, 'twas thy manners too, 
The sweet rich beauty to thee given, 
That, when I caught that under view, 
Suggested this high thought of heaven. 
[Him# Journal- 
REPLY TO “THE UNPROTECTED FEMALE." 
That any person in this enlightened age—the 
year of our Lord 1S64—should write such senti¬ 
ments as those contained in the article on the 
“ Unprotected Female," passes my understand¬ 
ing, I was shocked more than words can 
express upon first perusing it! And the sub¬ 
ject occurred to my mind again and again; the 
more I endeavored to banish it, the more it 
wouldn’t go; and that the author was the vic¬ 
tim of a strange hallucination, with optics 
sadly obscured, as though seeing darkly, through 
smoked glass, and with mental vision in the 
same unfortunate predicament, would contin¬ 
ually suggest itself. 
Nevertheless, to relieve my mind, I will use 
a woman’s privilege, and express my opinion. 
It may seem egotistical, hut Dr. Winsiiip 
remarks:—“ In every man’s experience—that of 
the humblest, even—there is something of value 
to the race;” therefore, I conclude there must 
be in every woman’s. 
I, for one, believe it to be man’s prerogative 
and pleasure to protect a woman whenever 
necessary; she being physically the “weaker 
vessel,” custom sanctions it—and every refined, 
intelligent person must approve it. In some 
cases, however, it is quite uncalled for. Alas, 
when she loses her shrinking modesty, and eo 
far unsexes herself as to he seen striding in 
“ male attire,” stamping around with a cigar in 
her mouth, she should not “ demand any more 
interest or sympathy than an unprotected male,” 
but can insure the hearty contempt and disgust 
of every right-minded one. 
I have yet to be convinced that fashion requires 
us to be encumbered with “ many boxes and 
bundles.” Doubtless many take more baggage 
than is necessary, but in my travels I have ob¬ 
served hut comparatively few who have not 
availed themselves of the express to take charge 
of their truuk or trunks, troubling themselves 
only with a small traveling bag, when the dis¬ 
tance made it necessary, which could he carried 
on the arm, leaving “ both hands free.” I have 
seen many travel hundreds of miles with noth¬ 
ing save the above mentioned trunk, which 
being in the hands of the express need be no 
trouble or care to any one, and which nieencss 
would render indispensable at the journey’s 
end. I have further known ladies to visit the 
city of New York and sister cities, and, without 
ignoring fashion, remain at a hotel a whole 
week, with but a small basket containing only 
necessaries for the toilet, and wearing their 
traveling dress during the time. 
It seems wonderfully pertinent (?) comparing 
the quantity ol' a gentleman’s baggage with that 
of a lady’s, with their different style of dress; 
for did neither take a useless article and indulge 
equally in the luxury of cleanliness, a lady 
would absolutely require far more. It is a 
notorious fact that gentlemen need only changes 
of linen; and it may be a slander on the sex, hut 
I never supposed ,a little dirt, more or less, 
would effectually disturb their equanimity. 
Aside from the exaggeration conspicuous in 
every paragraph, the writer betrays an entire 
ignorance of “ fashion.” Allow me to ask if it 
is not the fashion to wear stockings and hoots, 
rivaling men’s in warmth and thickness? 
And the hoop skirt, that many of the mascu¬ 
line sex raised such a hue and cry about, and 
With their Uniial consistency concerning any¬ 
thing pertaining to ladies’ dress, were unwilling 
wife or daughter to appear without, has been 
growing “small by degrees, and beautifully 
less,” until none need now complain of their 
dimensions, which it is to he hoped will con¬ 
tinue the same. Without dwelling on their 
gracefulness or excellence in making a hand¬ 
some dress appear to the best possible advantage, 
they are indispensable in a physiological point of 
view. Women need their powers ol locomotion 
assisted rather than impeded. In the words of 
the editor of the Scalpel, “ We consider the 
modern hooped skirt one of the most admirably 
artistic and health-giving devices of our time.” 
Ami, pray, is it not the day of “ Garibaldi’s,” 
“ Zouave,” and other kindred jackets, that leave 
the waist in perfect freedom ? It strikes me as 
being an exceedingly lame, one-sided argument, 
because it is a deplorable fact that some, through 
ignorance, carelessness, or folly, injure them¬ 
selves with tight-lacing, that the corset should 
he discarded. It is useless to mention that they 
are necessary to insure a perfectly fitting dress, 
and essential to that distinction of style which 
marks the well-bred lady; ter 1 trust the au¬ 
thor referred to is above any little weaknesses 
of that kind; and I fully believe a French corset 
scientifically adapted to the figure, to be con¬ 
ducive to health, as many of our best physicians 
assert; so loose when laced as to readily place 
the hand under, and with whalebones so thin as 
only to be perceived hv the delightful feeling of 
support they give. Many with weak sides and 
irresistibly inclined to stoop have been perma¬ 
nently benefited by them. Suppose wine 
should he abandoned as a medicine, because 
so many unfortunately became intoxicated? 
What if an unbeliever should bring forward as 
conclusive evidence against the need, the power 
of Christianity, that in a fit of religious phrenzy 
some have committed suicide? 
Perhaps because tight dresses are sometimes 
worn, they had better be rejected altogether! 
Indeed, although the present style (without 
apparently knowing ichrit that style is) was 
gwecpingly condemned, as nothing better was 
suggested, 1 am at a loss to determine whether 
the writer considered it preferable to return to 
the primitive state of our first parents, or don 
masculine habiliments which seemed to find 
much favor in her eyes. As dress, jn a measure, 
influences character, likely the next innovation 
would be chewing, smoking and swearing; for, 
without the provocation of “ trailing skirts,” far 
too many of the “sterner sex" in our small vil¬ 
lages and cities, as well as in lar-famed Gotham, 
seem to cultivate aud esteem the latter as an 
accomplishment. 
It is a painful thought that any woman can 
have such perverted views, such questionable 
delicacy and modesty, as to advocate such a 
change. The Bible expressly forbids it:—“ The 
woman shall not wear that which pertaineth 
unto a man.” I well recollect the effect of the 
first ‘ Bloomer costume” I ever beheld. It 
was at the “ Crystal Palace,” and attracted 
more attention than any of the miracles ol 
workmanship and art exhibited there. Is such 
conspicuousness pleasant? — that sort of noto¬ 
riety desirable by a refined, cultivated, judi¬ 
ciously educated, or even by a modest womaH ? 
Sufficient exercise in the open air, with regu¬ 
lar hours and habits would go far toward re¬ 
storing the health and strength sogreatly heeded. 
As “seeing is believing,” 1 can show Miss (or 
Mrs.) “Amanda Roberts Keyskk” a woman 
past “ her sixteenth year,” and dressed for the 
last three years with considerable “ regard to 
the dictates of fashion,” who has not beeu 
troubled for an instant during that period to 
“draw a natural breath.” 
I would also assure her that for some time 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MAY, 1864. 
BY MRS. A. I. HORTON. 
Serenely bright the fair Mny skies are hendlng 
O’er the glad Earth, glorious with bloom and song;— 
Unto the Sea ft hne or sapphire lending, 
Whose laughing billows gaily dance along. 
And softly with the polished waters btenaing, 
Virginia's purple shores stretch free away.— 
Eren yon guarded Fort,* with cannon frowning, 
Sleeiis tike an “Isle or Quiet” in the buy. 
Yon graceful barks, above their anchors swaying. 
Or from the harbor swiftly speeding far, 
No more the voice of Commerce are obeying; 
They wait, subservient, the behests of War. 
We know the blossoms in the sunlight golden 
Have waked at last from their long winter’s sleep, 
And that they smile In all their freshness olden, 
Front glen and glade, rill-side, and wooded steep. 
Wc know how fresh and green the moss is creeping 
O’er rugged rocks, with beauty veiling them— 
Like Charity’s broad mantle, ever shielding 
From censure harsh, what justice might condemn. 
O bright May morn! with skios as calm as Heaven, 
And sweet bird matins ringing ihrcugli the air, 
If to our finite minds, were prescience given, 
Clothed with “ thick darkness” would it not appear? 
E’en now this brightness has no power to cheer ns, 
Nor song of biid, fragrance, nor breezes blnnd; 
Black clouds of War have long been gathering near us, 
To burst at last in havoc' o’er the land- 
Perchance, e’er now, tbc fierce sword lightnings glisten 
’Mid volleys, and battle thunders boom— 
O, God of Mercy! to onr pleadings listen 
For souls unshrived, that hasten to their doom. 
And nir and near slow solemn bells socm knelling 
For thousands soon to strew the battle plain, 
And wailing voices on the air seem swelling— 
The sound of woe and mourning for the slain. 
And as the waves before the storm-wind leaping, 
Resistless as the tide’s impetuous flow, 
The crimson crested waves of war come sweeping, 
Whelming in their red eurges friend and foe. 
O sad Virginia! take them to thy keeping— 
Our country’s heroes gather to thy breast; 
How many eyes turn toward* tin* - ditn with weeping, 
Where their loved ones, dicamless, untroubled rest. 
Thy prestige and thy glory has departed, 
A “ field of blood ” art thou, a burial place 
For those who for their county, noble hearted, 
Have died, that Fr«r.dom night have length of days. 
fn Garrison, Fortress Monroe, May, 1SG-1 
* The Rip Raps. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
LITTLE TRIALS. 
TnE temptation* and sorrows of the human 
family have served many a poet and romancer 
a theme with which to “ point a moral or adorn 
a tale.” The stereotype phase represented, is 
of heroes resisting the. most seductive allure- 
PERSONAL GOSSIP, 
— Tins is the way a New York paper talks 
about. N. P, Willis. of the Home Journal: 
“Alas, dear Willis! that the rose should lose 
its perfume anil that poets should fade. Can it 
be that the rheumatic, shattered, decayed indi¬ 
vidual that we see on Broadway is the gay, dash¬ 
ing gallant of days gone by ? Sad sight is it in¬ 
deed! sad as are the withered rose leaves that 
flutter in the morning wind. A face never large, 
but rosy aedgladsome, is now pinched, wrinkled, 
and saddened. The locks that once curled so 
much to lii&own satisfaction, and the distraction 
of all the boarding school girls of the country, 
are now sprinkled with gray and hang as for¬ 
lorn as an old maid’s. The eyesthat once spoke, 
like his tongue, in poetry and love, have now 
sunk away in their sockets, and require specta¬ 
cles to assist him in his ordinary avocationR. 
He has small, delicate hands, which he nurses, 
softens aud bleaches, and exhibits to the envy 
of men and the admiratiou of the fair sex. He 
dresses in some odd suit, seemingly, and the bet¬ 
ter to attract attent ion, wraps up bis neck with 
a jaunty scarf, taking all the cure as to folding 
and the hanging uf ends, that, is common to fastid¬ 
ious ladies. He walks with a careful, meas¬ 
ured tread, as if picking his way among eggs, 
the real occasion for which being that he is 
rather unsettled on his rheumatic legs, Alas, 
dear Willis! wesay again. We remember thee 
bectulcd, be frizzled, and perfumed, strutting 
like a peacock, and admired like one. We see 
thee gaunt, consumptive, rheumatic, seedy, rude¬ 
ly jostled, and almost tumbled over, in the 
crowds that know thee not We read thy poetic 
interweaving, as fresh and fragraut as when 
penned, and wc are saddened to think that the 
beauty and glory are dead.” 
— The Quartette or Lilliputians, Gen¬ 
eral Tom Thumb and wife, and the versatile 
Commodore Nutt and Miss Minnie W ahrkn 
have been entertaining the Rochester people the 
past week. On the day they left town they 
were invited, with a select company, to Ellis’ 
Parlor Music Rooms, where they held a musi¬ 
cal carnival during the space of two hours— 
Madame Stratton singing sundry songs, 
among others, “ The Captain and Ins Whiskers,” 
the humorous Commodore following with a par¬ 
ody of the same, and performances with drum¬ 
sticks, Ac. The pleasant affair closed by Gen¬ 
eral Wm. E. Lathrop, on behalf of Mr. 
Ellts, presenting Sirs. Stratton a handsome 
cup cut from the wood of the Charter Oak by 
the blind poet, Robert Fknn, and the General 
with a beautiful cigar stand. Mr. Stratton 
being a Knight Templar, It was appropriate 
the presentation should be made by General 
Lathrop. 
— A London correspondent, writing of 
Garibaldi says:—“ By a tine coincidence, the 
word Garibaldi means ‘Bold in War.’ The 
the haughty Greciun and Roman ladies. But I 
consider other places more appropriate lbr the 
trail than the dirty streets of New York. 
It seems equally reprehensible to follow every 
varying phase of fashion, or excite undue no¬ 
tice by the ridiculous outer appearance that 
must inevitably follow an entire disregard 
of the prevailing mode. Among the multi¬ 
plicity of designs, something genteel and pretty 
can always be selected, w T hich will occupy 
no more time in making than would the most 
singular, uncouth costume that could be irn- a disadvantage! 
agined. 1 believe it woman’s duty to make her- ^y e C3n W cll understand how the woman who 
sell' pleasing, and dress according to the station en Q ureg the loss of fortune aud social rank 
in which she may be placed; nor do I believe 
she could perform other more important duties, 
by a disregard of this. Nor need a person grati¬ 
fying a fine esthetic taste by dressing in a be¬ 
coming robe, necessarily neglect the preparation 
of the immortal soul for the life to come, more 
thun if poorly clad in sombre hues,—any more 
without a fretful or repining word, will get 
angry and scold over a broken teacup or a 
stained napkin. It is notdlflicultto comprehend 
how a man who would scorn to repudiate a 
debt of a thousand dollars, forgets or neglects, 
with seemingly undisturbed conscience, the 
fifty cents due from him to the poor boy who 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
THE RAINBOW OF THE HEART. 
When the clouds come swooping onward, 
And with darkness shroud the sky, 
Then, some cheering ray of sunlight 
Forms the rainbow bright, on high. 
Bo when sorrow gathers o'er us, 
And its gloom bids joy depart, 
Some bright hope that’s sent to cheer us, 
Forms “ the rainbow of the heart.” 
When that cloud is death’s grim shadow 
Falling on the heart and home. 
From what source shall consolation 
For the wounded spirit come? 
Now from heaven's opeu portals 
See what gleams of brightness start, 
See them shining through the tear drops, 
'Tia “ the rainbow of Lire heart.” 
For every grief, and pain, and tear, 
Some sunlight has been given, 
Aud, though we see it not to day, 
It will he known in heaven. 
If each life must have its rain drops, 
So of light eneh has its part, 
And the two will raeel and mingle 
In “the rainbow of the heart” 
Copenhagen, N. Y., v. l. 8. 
_!_- 
THE USE OF MAN. 
The world was made to be inhabited by 
beasts, butstudied and contemplated by man; ’tis 
the debt of our reason we owe unto God, and 
the homage we pay for not being beasts. With¬ 
out this!, the world is still as though it had not 
been, or as it Was before the sixth day, when as 
yet there was not a creature that could conceive, 
or say there was a world. The wisdom of God 
receives small honor from those vulgar heads 
that rudely stare about, and with a gross rus¬ 
ticity admire his works. Those highly magnify 
Him whose judicious inquiry into his acts, and 
deliberate research into his creatures, return the 
duty of a devout and learned admiration. 
Every essence, created or uncreated, hath 
its final cause, aqd some positive eud, both 
of its essence aud operation. This is the cause 
I grope after in the works of nature. On this 
hangs the providence of God. To rise so beau¬ 
teous a structure as the world and the creatures 
thereof was but Ills act; but their sundry and 
divided operations, with their predestinated ends, 
are from the treasury of His wisdom. * * * 
There are no grotesques in nature; not any¬ 
thing framed to fill up empty cantons and un¬ 
necessary spaces. * * * What reason may not 
go to school to the wisdom, of bees, ants and spi¬ 
ders? What wise hand teacheth them to do 
what reason cannot teach us? Ruder heads 
Stand amazed at those prodigious pieces of 
nature, whales, elephants, dromedaries, aud 
camels. Those, 1 confess, arc the colossuses 
up. i ceruumy auuun- wc fertile imagination ot me autnor can conjure up. 
ness of the long flowing skirt, which has the ^11 these are very well in their way, but 
prestigfe of antiquity; was worn and admired by tk ey j 0 HOt reach the case of one Individual in 
live thousand. There is, however, a phase of 
life’s trials which all must meet—a battalion of 
temptations and petty griefs which every 
human soul roust conquer or succumb to. We 
allude to the little losses, the little vexations, 
the little inducements to little sins, so insignifi¬ 
cant separately, so large in their aggregate 
effect upon the character. How perfect must 
bo the discipline of that mind which is ever 
ready for these ambushed enemies, and never 
surprised by them “off guard,” as it were, and 
first etymon, (Jar, is the old Saxon for War, and majestic pieces of Uis hand. But in these 
indeed the English word Mar, as wcll as the narrow engines there is more curious malhe- 
French guerre, arc descended from it. The word mal j cg . alK i the civility of these little citizens 
literal!^ means Hpear. German itself means more Bea tiy sets forth the wisdom of their 
Spearman. Bald means bold. The name is j^ a j. er> j could never content my contempla- 
now preserved in Germany in the corrupted ;j ori those general pieces of wonder, the 
form of Gkhbkl. There was a Bavarian Duke flux am j reflux ofthesea, the increase of the Nile, 
Garibaldi in the sixth century. Thence the t j )e conV er?ion of the needle to the north; 
name easily got witli the Teutonic blood into an d have studied to match and parallel those in 
Lombardy. Gen. Garibaldi's light hair, the more obvious and neglected pieces of nature, 
whiskers, complexion, and blue eyes, all arc w i,ich, without further travel, I can do, in the 
striking commentaries on this. He is evidently cosmography of myself. We carry with us the 
Teutonic, lie is a most noble person, with a WO nders we 8 ec k. without us. There is all 
fascinating presence: the lion and the lamb ^f,.; ca unc j ter prodigies in us. We arc that 
strangely alternating in his expression of face, ^old aU ^ adventurous piece of nature, which he 
voice and manner. that studies wisely learns Jn a compendium 
— Some time since the Rural sanctum was wliat others labor at in a divided piece aud end- 
visited by JosEni Lekkkl, of Springfield, less volume.—*’tr Thomas Browne. 
Ohio, who is thus described by our neighbor of —-—- 
the Democrat “ He is the smallest business INNOCENCE AND SAINTLINESS, 
man in the world, and indeed quite an atom 
compared with Gen. Tom Thumb. He is only Our early innocence is nothing more than 
4 i inches in height and weighs but pounds, ignorance of evil. Christian lile is not a retain¬ 
er, Lekkki. Is now thirty-two years of age. ing of that ignorance ofevil; nor even a returning 
He is an intelligent, able-bodied, handsome- of it again, Wc lose our mere negative Midese- 
fcatured man, and sports a moustache that ness. We put on a firm, manly holiness, llu- 
would really do credit to the Scotch giant, lie man innocence is not to know evil, — Christian 
has filled the cilice of supervisor, in Springfield, saintliness is to know evil and good, and prefer 
than one’s a better Christian for wearing such a ^ ^ potatoe8 or Cftrried his basket We gli iTis possible for a parent, with oter- 
rri„..mi tr.nr uviA-heirone visaee as to fritrhten .. _ lz-. iifVwv Tuarn 1 nnnti and is regarded as one of the most public spmtca goou. it is p>* - y ’ . . 
gloomy, sour, woe-begone visage as to frighten ^ave all seen people who w c . D . wacu u ^ u «> . . . , mavry 
children, and cause them to think religion some- niiracles of benevolence on a large scale, who " B jjolton, who' is smaller than 
thing terrible. had unbounded .sympathy for nations in bond- „,.i„ Tv ._, _ niI _ 
There will always be prating about the infe- a „ e aU( j heathen in darkness, to whom a tale of Mrs. 1 hum n, and n as 7 
riority of women by a certain class of men, individual want or private grief was an“im- T0N s muu 0 onor ' 
whose morals are fearfully out of repair, ami poHili0 „ » or a bit of “acting for effect!” — A friend, writing from Laris, describes a 
where brains are decidedly at discount; and There is something in a great trial of any visit paid to Madame GiUBi, who, with her hus- 
probably some women will, too, parrot-like, kmd) whl( , h of itsc) f stimulates the soul to band, Mario, ia now residing in the magnificent 
repeat their opinion. The writer has the ad- strong resistance. Jt can gird on its armor aud mansion they have recently built and furnished 
vantage ol'me, however, if she has ever heard ik, weapons ready for a foe that is in lull in the Champs Elysces at a cost of something like 
anything more silly emanating lrom the lips ol yj CWj be it in over so formidable a shape. The two million francs. The great artist was to be 
gublime idea of a spiritual conflict and victory, seen “wandering about, this splendid mansion, 
t forbear giving, for future tbe t honglit that not unaided need man battle attire din brown velvet n la Lucre/, i a Borgia, 
unction of Horace, f or truth aud justice, endows the soul with looking the very presonifioatlon of royalty—the 
estris,qui scribitis, acquam 8trenglJi equa i to the demand. But we fail in furniture of the saloons all after the old fashion, 
Lancillotti. tittle things from misapprehension of their im- with oak carving, sombre tapestries, and mas* 
--- portunec; we scarcely deem them worthy of sive gildings, assisting to complete the illusion. ’ 
ette. — A gentleman meet- conquest, and consequently have no grand in- In the midst of so much luxury, which a long 
vays take the right of the spirations nor inherent strength to sustain us. aud arduous career has secured, Guisi still sighs 
anything more silly emanating lrom me ups oi 
women than men. 
i n closing, I can not forbear giving, for future 
consideration, the injunction of Horace, 
Samite materiam vestris, qui scribitis, acquam 
Virilnts. Lancillotti. 
have all seen people who were looked upon as 
miracles of benevolence on a large scale, who 
had unbounded sympathy for nations ia bond¬ 
age and heathen In darkness, to whom a tale of 
individual want or private grief was an “ im¬ 
position,” or a bit of “ acting for effect!” 
There is something in a great trial of any 
kind, which of itself stimulates the soul to 
strong resistance. It can gird on its armor aud 
get its weapons ready for a foe that is in lull 
view, be it in over so formidable a shape. The 
sublime idea of a spiritual conflict ami victory, 
the thought that not unaided need man battle 
for truth aud justice, endows the soul with 
strength equal to the demand. But we fail in 
! little things from misapprehension of their im- 
Out-Door Etiquette.—A gentleman meet¬ 
ing a lady should always take the right of the 
walk. 
A gentleman meeting another, should always 
pass to the right, 
A lady, as a general rule, should not take a 
gentleman's arm in the strceet. in the day time. 
However, it is not improper when the walk 
is thronged with passengers. 
fastidious refinement, to prolong the duration of 
this innocence unnaturally. He may lock up his 
library, and prevent the eutranco to forbidden 
books; he may exercise a jealous censorship 
over every book and every companion that 
comes into the house; he may remove the public 
journal from the table lest an eye may chance to 
rest upon the contaminating portion of its pages; 
but he lias only put off the evil hour. 
lie has sent into the world a young man of 
eighteen or twenty, Ignorant of evil as a child, 
but not innocent as an angel who abhors the 
evil. No, we cannot get back our past ignor¬ 
ance, neither is it. desirable we should. No 
sane mind wishes for that which is Impossible. 
Aud it is no more to bo regretted than the blos¬ 
som is to be regretted when fruit is hardening in 
its placeno more to be regretted than the slen¬ 
der gracefulness of the sapling, when you have 
got Instead the woody fiber of the heart of oak 
of which the ship is made;— no more to be re¬ 
gretted than the green blade when the car has 
come Instead, bending down in yellow ripeness. 
—Rev F. W. liobtrtson. 
icntleman meeting or passing a gentleman 
and lady should pass on the gentleman’s side. perhaps wc dream that under circumstances 
A gentleman should never fail to salute a lady worthy of the effort, we would display endu- 
of liis acquaintance when within a proper dis- ranee aud serenity equal to that of the noblest 
tance, unless she wear a veil, in which case it j 1C ro or heroine of poem or romance. Ah! how 
What the Lord Saystothk Bklbcvkk. 
He that dwcUeth in the secret place of the Most 
would lie highly uncivil to recognize her. 
Youth levels in the radiance of years t 
come, nor never dreams that ttie little daisy on 
the lawn, so smilingly beheld, or so tenderly 
gathered from its green bed, shall make the 
whole heart ache with all the past when it 
meets the eye in some future year. 
- A * - 1 r 111 |; A• _ kJttWlUIUVOO VI V**v -- 
There is nothing particularly sublime to us in for the excitement of public me. ^ l Uh t C ad the woody fiber of the heart of oak 
other, should always the regular performance of little, unpleasant — Hon. Edward Everett is three score liicli the ship is made;- no more to be re- 
lasks that duty imposes. It is not considered aiu [ ten- lie was the youngest member ot liis „ rcBed j] ian the green blade when the ear has 
e, should not take a specially meritorious that wo refrain the hasty class, II. U., 1811. Mr. Everett, since his £ onie Lnsltfat ), bending down in y«liow ripeness, 
eeet in the day time, word or stifle the petty revenge arising to lip age is not measured by years, gives daily proof ’ Robertson. 
>per when the walk and heart when little annoyances beset us. Wo in the activity of his mind and the effectiveness 1 ‘ __ 
s. are conscious of wrong, but we palliate it to of his eloquence, that lio is not yet an old man, 'Whattuk Lord Saystothk RklH'JVICU.— 
passing a gentleman 0 ur reason by the idea of its insignificance, and p u t only a vigorous veteran. lhat t i W eUeth iu the secret place of the Most 
> gentleman’s side. perhaps wc dream that under circumstances —Dickens is a very gray grandfather now— jjjgh shall abide under the shadow of the A 1 - 
u- fail to salute a lady worthy of the effort, we would display endu- hearty, active, indeed, aud likely to live Ini ^ hly . he shall cover thee with his feathers, 
within a proper dis- name aud serenity equal to that of the noblest j on ^ for he j ooks very tough, but on the wrong ftml un( j er h - lH wings *halt thou trust. Because 
mil, in which ease it hero or heroine of poem or romance. Ah! how sid ” of Blty> However, that is not much in th 0U hast made the Lord, which ts my refuge, 
recognize her. shall we learn that by little things our souls A man’s best time there is from fifty eV(ni the Most High, thy habitation; there shall 
- shall be judged, and that we dare not character- seventy to work, and perhaps for enjoyment. Il0 evil befall thee, neither shall any plague 
•adiance of years t ize them as unimportant? — The London papers say that the present come n jgh thy dwelling. He shall give his 
at the little daisy on Rockford, lit., im. Mauie Estelle. of Mj((s Batkm vN) t i m actresB, is not al , ge i 8 charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy 
ihcld, or so tenderly * 1 * i ftsa .i ian jm 3 hqq ,, year. ways. Psalm 1 ) 1 . 
bed, shall make the OPINION.-That was excellently observed, ‘ ’ LunLO w is to prepare a life Be still, and know that I am God. r,alm 
ill the past when it say I, when I read a passage m an author -Ht/.-Hugh Ludlow r 
,,.n,T 00 .. whpvfi Ids nuinion agrees with mine.— Swift. of the Itev. Luomas bi 
shall we learn that by little things our souls 
shall be judged, aud that we dare not character¬ 
ize them as unimportant? 
Rockford, Ill., ISM. Mauie Estelle. 
Opinion.— That was excellently observed, 
say I, when I read a passage in an author 
where his opinion agrees with mine.— Swift. 
ways. Psalm 01. 
Be still, and know that I am God. 
46:10. 
P»alm 
