NAPOLEON AND HIS “FRIENDS.” 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MY POEM WILL NEVER BE FINISHED.* 
BY BROTHER L. TO KATE WOODLAND. 
This poem will never be finished— j / 
“ This beautiful poem of mine;” 
But when I w i th joy may reswjic it, 
“ Only my Go n" can divine.” 
’Tis true, lout: ago I commenced it,— 
“ This beautiful poem of mice.” 
Which angels in pity are reading, 
And dropping a tear on each line, 
I 1 
’Tis trnc a Wedded love ” led each stanza 
And ecdod each rapture thrilled line,* J 
And Poverty vainly attempted, 
’ To shatter it» measure divine 
’Tis true that my song once so.joyous 
Died away.to a wail on my lips. 
And the blossoms bedecking my pathway. 
Were hidden by Death's dark eclipse. 
Yet I feel that, the old tones of gladness 
In rov soul are lingering still, 
» And the notes that her sweet voice sounded 
Will sometime in unison thrill. . . 
And the flowers, I know, are etiH blooming, 
That bloomed in the bygone years ; 
Although I can scarcely discern them, 
My eyes are so blinded with tears 
WHAT IS BECOMING. 
Tub effects of color on complexion are learned 
from .experience, and the subject cannot be 
treated successfully in a short paper like the 
present. Portrait artists know bow many are 
the color.- that mingle in one face, and slightly 
varying porportions ami small omissions produce 
differences iu the skin, s6 that colors which 
suit one person are’not becoming to another, al¬ 
though the complexions of the,two are supposed 
to be the same. A candid friend, or the more 
candid looking-glass.-must be the ultimate ap¬ 
peal. Now that we have touched the delicate 
subject of the mirror, let us notice the fact of 
bow much the position of a glass, in reference 
to t he light, has to do in making a .person satis¬ 
fied or discontented with his, or her, appearance. 
Tiie most flattering position for the glass is when 
placed betice e» twqvwindows, the equal cross- 
light reducing inequalities and roughnesses to a 
minimum. The most unbecoming reflection Is 
from a glass in front of a window, the only one 
in a room. It is rcmarkable,,a*d perhaps unex¬ 
plained. that any irregularity of the features, 
anything out of drawing in the face, is’lncreased 
when seen in a glass. There is a great difference 
in the color of the glass itself; some glasses are 
very pure and white; some have a greenish 
tinge, necesarily producing disheartening reflec¬ 
tions. '' 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MEMORIES. 
BY KITTY CRAX3TOX. 
Memories, both sad and gay, 
Linger round the heart to day; 
Forms or the past aeem to come 
Floating through the twilight gloom. 
Now they sweep in circles bright, 
Fill the room with boly light; 
Now in darker trains they tread, 
Mounting for the early dead. , . 
Forms more bright, earth may not boast; 
Dearer ones were never lost, 
And as now they come, we know 
AU the joys of long ago. 
As they pass, once more we hold 
, In our own tbeir hands so cold ; 
Gnce more wish that we might die, 
Go with them to worlds on high. 
Now, too, comes the thought of home, 
Paths, ’twas our delight to roam, 
Trysts jvhere youthful friends we met, 
Friends whom we love dearly yet. 
Memories of hopes of old, 
Ere the heart grew sad and cold; 
Blight dreams of a world of truth, 
And the trust of cacly youth. 
Goto rules over all in H 19 mercy; 
And though for the prtsmii bereft 
Of all but “ a leaf ’ of my poem, 
I thank Him for what is still left 
Oh I no, it will never be finished, 
“ This beautiful poem of mine,” 
Bat when I with joy may resume it, 
Only my Goi» can divine. 
• On page 14i, current Vol. Rdrai,, we published a 
S oem entitled “Tim Unfinished Poem,” inscribed to 
rotber L. by Kate Woodland. This is in response 
to that poem, by the brother, who was iu the army ami 
is now a prisoner. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
THE AMARANTH. 
“ Immortal Amaranth, a flower which once 
In Paradise, fast by the Tree of Life 
Began to bloom .''—Paradise Lost 
It was a summer day in Greece. All day the 
landscape had rejoiced beneath a cloudless skv, 
and now, as the sun sank toward the western 
wave, the blue vault seemed to descend until its 
edge rested upon the distant, mountain tops. 
Earth and heaven met in serene embrace. The 
departing rays flashed across the dancing wa¬ 
ters, filling the atmosphere with a golden glow, 
until it seemed transformed into a sea of glory. 
Presently the silence was broken by a merry 
shout, and a company of maidens, bearing gar¬ 
lands and baskets of Uowers, appeared upon the 
brow of a neighboring bill, and looked out 
upon the bright blue sea. In* an instant every 
voice was hushed. Not a motion, not a whi¬ 
per indicated the rapture of the moment, but 
the Grecian spirit, attuned to melody and pos¬ 
sessed of an exquisite appreciation of Lbe beau¬ 
tiful, flashed from the kindling eye, quivered in 
the dilated nostril, and curled iu the chiseled 
lip. Slowly they descened the slope, the light 
drapery of their Ionian robes floating like a 
mist about them, their golden girdles and 
snowy fillets bathed iu the bright glow of the 
atmosphere, until standing upon the vei’y beach, 
one might have imagined that Aphrodite and her 
train of sea nymphs had arisen from the waves. 
It had been a festal day among the Grecian 
youth, and the maidens gathering together upon 
the shore, spoke sadly of the fast passing hours. 
“ Let us keep this day in remembrance,” said 
the gentle Nekea. “Let us gather the rose¬ 
lipped shells upon the beach, and build a grotto 
which may tempt even Awphytrite from her 
watery realm.” 
“Nay, rather,” spake the fair-haired Thalia, 
“let us choose some favorite tree and adorn it 
with our garlands. Let us enjoy the short-lived 
beauties while we may, for see, tiiey are already 
fadimr.” 
“ And let us each weave a crown of her favor¬ 
ite flower," replied the dark-eyed Myrrha, 
“and when the moon has waxed and waned, 
and only a slender horn hangs in the distant 
horizon, let us return to seek the garlands of 
our choice.’’ 
"When each had made her choice of flowers, 
they seated themselves by the beach and wove 
the gay chaplets. Day was fast fading into 
darkness as they climbed the verdant slope, 
each explaining to her companions the reason 
of her choice. 
“The rose is beauty’s queen, said the white¬ 
armed Calista, “'and beauty’s sway is uni¬ 
versal.” 
“The Olive is the favorite of Athene,” spoke 
the staid Sophia, “and I shall choose it mine.” 
Thus they discoursed until all but one, the 
blue-eyed Athanasia, had assigned the reason 
for her preference. “ And what is thine, little 
one,” asked the queenly Ida. “ Hast thou no 
choice ?” 
The maiden raised her large and thoughtful 
eyes toward Heaven, and reverently placed an 
Amaranthine garland upon her snowy brow. 
“Immortality,” she murmured; and the midd¬ 
en* gathered around her and blessed her choice. 
The moon waxed and Waned, and again its 
slender horn hung above the horizon. At the 
same bright hour of sunset, the group of maid¬ 
ens appeared again upon the hilJ. No merry 
shout heralded their approach, but with bowed 
heads and tearful eyes they came down the 
slope; for one, “the blue-eyed Athanabia,” 
was not in tbeir midst. She had passed away, 
even as the fading flower. Slowly they gath¬ 
ered beneath the tree upon which each had 
hung her chosen garland, and there, amid the 
laded glories, hung the purple wreath, as bright 
and fair as when it first glowed in the rosy twi¬ 
light. The Amaranth was immortal. 
Gouverneur, N. Y., 18M. L. A. O. ‘ 
GOSSIPPY PARAGRAPHS. 
— The following touching story of a dollar 
greenback on exhibition at the New York Sani¬ 
tary Commission Fair, is told by the Spirit of 
the Fair :—“A pastor in an inland town had 
called upon bis congregation to contribute to the 
Sanitary Commission, and had met a liberal re¬ 
sponse. The next day a woman, who depends 
upon her daily work for her own support and 
that of her children, brought him a dollar bill 
to be added as ber mite to the collection. Her 
pastor declined to take it, telling her she ought 
not. to give so much: but the woman insisted, 
adding, ‘ We’ve had it in the house many 
weeks; we can not spend it. 5 Seeing that the 
bill was much torn, and supposing that she had 
found difficulty in passing it, her pastor said, 
‘ Oh, I'll give you a good bill for it.’ • No, that’s 
not it. It was in brother Sam’s pocket when he 
was wounded. He’s dead now, and we have 
his torn pocket-book: and mother said (the 
mother is a widow, and he was her only son.) 
we will give that dollar to the Sanitary Commis¬ 
sion ; we can not spend it.”’ 
—Somebody who watched the turn-outsat 
Longchamps, on the “Fashions " day in Paris, 
says of the ladies’ apparelThe color worn 
was pink of different shades. To be perfectly a 
la mode, pink is the word—but no —see—there 
conies a lovely blue dress and bonnet, and para¬ 
sol all to match. Blue mantles is not de rigneuir, 
for there is the next one, all in blue, wearing a 
black mantle. Then, here comes a green cape 
bonnet, trimmed with roses, and there is a love 
of a lilac one, alone. So my conclusion is, that 
each fair oue is at liberty to choose the color 
which best becomes ber. Pink or white, trim¬ 
med with roses, can better be worn with mixed 
toilettes than blue, and is therefore always more 
worn. A peculiar shade of purplish pink is a 
novelty which will doubtless take.” 
— A New York paper relates that last week 
the daughter of a wealthy citizen residing up 
the Fifth avenue, eloped with a young man be¬ 
longing to a respectable family in Newburgh. 
The lady is twenty years of age, handsome, and 
highly accomplished. The gentleman is only 
seventeen, homely, awkward, and by no means 
remarkable for intellect. The lady accidentally 
met the young man iu company some months 
ago, and fell in love with him, She insisted, 
they say, upon eloping, and he complied with 
ber wishes. They married at once, but her 
parents will do nothing for their support, and 
the young bridegroom is unable to support him¬ 
self. leaving a wife out of the question. Marry 
in haste, repent at leisure. 
— -Jennie asks if we will be so kind as to 
permit some of the intelligent readers of the 
Rural to give their views in regard to the edu¬ 
cation of young ladies for physicians: and 
where the best advantages for a medical educa¬ 
tion can be obtained, on terms within the reach 
of those in moderate circumstances. We have 
not the least objection to the intelligent, candid 
discussion of tiffs subject. Of one thing we 
think there should be no question—that women 
should be educated lur and employed as physi¬ 
cians by their own sex. We believe a great 
deal of suffering would be saved to women 
thereby. 
— A NEW “ love of a bonnet,” a recent fash¬ 
ion writer says, “is called the ‘Night Blooming 
Cereus,’ and so far ns we have been able to find 
out is the only one in the city. J t is of the finest 
white chip, exquisitely beautiful, and trimmed 
on the outside with a boquet of the rare and 
beautiful 4 Night Blooming L'ereus.’ The flow¬ 
er is made of threads of pearl and white silk, 
sprinkled over with dewdrops, so as to deceive 
the most practical eye at first. Jt is fastened to 
the bonnet with a pearl clasp, curtain of white 
blonde, face trimmings with star flowers set in 
illusion—and strings of white ribbon.” 
— A YOUNG clerk in Albany saw a beautiful 
young girl among the Mormons who passed 
through that city on Saturday week, and falling 
in love at first sight, offered to marry her out¬ 
right, He was scornfully refused, the girl pre¬ 
ferring to run her chances of getting the twen¬ 
tieth or thirtieth part of a man in Utah. 
— There is a woman twenty-eight years of 
age, now on exhibition in Montreal, who has 
been in the habit of swallowing needles ever 
since she was eight years old, and who has 
thousands of them in her hotly. She seems to 
like them. 
All too soon the visions fade, 
Deeper shadows have they made; 
But they leave some gleams of light 
Which will cheer our sorrow’s night. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
PERSONNEL OF JEFFERSON DAVIS. 
We almost invariably associate men of fame 
with men of frame.— commanding intellect and 
influence -with commanding persona] appear¬ 
ance. Though the two are often found asso¬ 
ciated in the same individual, as in the case 
of George Washington, Henry Clay, 
Gen. Scott* and many others; yet there is 
not unfrequentlv a striking disparity between 
the two. We find an instance of this in the 
person of Jefferson Davis, the man who 
now enjoys the unenviable distinction of being 
accounted (as lie doubtless is) the head and front 
of the preseut rebellion, — the most gigantic 
rebellion the world has ever known. 
It would not be surprising if those who have 
never seen Mr. Davis and know of him only 
as the arch-traitor of tins wicked rebellion, 
should imagine him to be, in stature and physi¬ 
cal proportions, considerably above the average 
of men, with a countenance indicative of his 
real character as a man of great energy and 
ability, wholly given up to the accomplish¬ 
ment of a most w icked purpose—the ruin of his 
country. My recollections of Mr. Davis’ per¬ 
sonal appearance, however, are very different 
from any such conception of him. 
While spending a week in Washington, soon 
after the meeting of Congress iu December, 
1868, 1 received an invitation from a friend, a 
member of the House, to accompany him to a 
“Congressional Party” at the residence of Col. 
Jefferson Davis. Secretary of War. I 
gladly accepted the invitation, and at the 
appointed time called on my friend and accom¬ 
panied him to the residence of Mr. Davis. 
Colored servant- slaves) in black dress suit and 
white kids, answered the door-bell and showed 
us to the dressing-room above. In a few mo¬ 
ments we descended to the parlor, near the 
entrance of which Mr. and Mrs, Davis were 
standing to receive their company. After an 
introduction by Senator Foote, of Vermont, 
nnd a few minutes’ conversation, we stepped 
aside and gave place to other parties who were 
constantly arriving and waiting an introduction. 
The official position of Mr. Davis, together 
with the occasion which brought, me there, 
served to direct my attention particularly to 
him, and to fix iu my mind the impressions 
then formed of his personal appearance. lit* is 
a man somewhat below the medium height, 
with a slight frame. His features are quite 
regular, with a mild, pleasing countenance, (at 
that time, at least,) nud a keen, intelligent eye. 
I was particularly struck with his quiet, gentle 
manner, and wondered that a man, who in ap- 
pearauce and manners betokened so little of a 
military character and spirit, should be called 
“ Colonel,” and hold the important position of 
Secretary of War. 
Mrs. Davis, who is somewhat taller than 
her husband, has much more of the martial air 
and military fire in her looks and manners. 
Whenever I hear or read of Jeff. Davis, 
the rebel chief, the arch-conspirator, the man 
whose name and fame strike awe to many a 
faint heart, I recall to mind the small, spare 
man of pleasing look, gentle tone and unassum¬ 
ing manner, whom T met a few years since in a 
Washington parlor, and wonder at the contrast. 
Rochester, IStti E. M. 0. 
“Thank You!” —Wliat music there is in 
these words when uttered by a pretty woman. 
They touch a man’s heart-strings, as the fingers 
of some fairy musician touch the strings of his 
harp. “Thank you!" she says, and you aro 
happy. Perhaps the favor extended lias been 
only slight — no inconvenience — no trouble to 
you—a mere exhibition of politeness on your 
part. You look up; a radiant smile beams 
upon you—a bright twinkle of the eye, and the 
lips open to the unfoldiug of a rose, and the 
words—“thank you,” drop from their pearly 
recesses. Those words are more sw'eet to you 
than honey, more precious than the wealth of 
India. Reader, should you ever see a lady in 
need of your courtesy, extend it to her—be 
kind and good to her as you would to your sis¬ 
ter—aud if you look for your reward, you will 
find it in her. 
A correspondent of the New York World, 
writing from New Orleans furnishes the follow¬ 
ing interesting gossip concerning “ the Nephew 
'of his Uncle”: 
“ I was iu a circle, a few days back, composed 
of both native French and some newly-arrived 
Parisians. At last, the conversation turned up¬ 
on the Emperor, and the late arrivals were full 
of marvelous stories of attempts upou the Em¬ 
peror’s life. One -yarn’ ran as follows:—A 
beautiful young Italiau girl, was requested to 
make him a' drink, which she did. As if acci- 
dentially, iu receiving the goblet he contrived 
to drop into it a small silver knife, with which 
be had been toying, as be sat. The kuife almost 
instantly turned black from the presence of some 
poison which the Italian had dropped into the 
beverage — probably as a ‘flavor.’ She was 
quietly sent back to the Orleanist tribe, whence 
she came, disgraced. 
“ Another damsel offered Napoleon the larger 
piece of an apple, which she cut before his eyes, 
and while in conversation with him. (She was 
French aud a privileged member of the imperial 
household.) With true politeness he requested 
an exchange, he to eat the smaller piece, and 
she the other. The lady demurred; she could 
not eat so much. He bantered and insisted — a 
whim of his — but she would not taste. He 
seized both pieces and howingly retired. Next 
day the lady consented to 4 waste her sweetness 
on the desert air” of a convent, where she can 
reflect that the very first trouble which arose in 
the world, in the year one, came from Eve 
offering Adam an apple not fit for his mastica¬ 
tion at that time.” 
HOW TO TREAT AN ENEMY. 
If you have an enemy, and an opportunity 
occurs to benefit him, in matters great or small, 
act like a gentleman, and do him good service 
without hesitation. If you would know what 
it is to feel noble and “strong within yourself,” 
do this secretly and keep it secret. A man who 
can act thus will soon feel at ease anywhere. It 
is said of Callot, the eminent French artist and 
engraver of the seventeenth century, that he 
was once slandered in a pasquinade by a certain 
nobleman of the court. At that time, to have 
one's portrait engraved by (.'allot was an object 
of ambition with the highest dignitaries of the 
kingdom, and it was attained by very few. Cai- 
lot’s answer to the injury was to publish a 
superbly executed likeness of his enemy, with 
an inscription setting forth his titles nnd great 
deeds. To this day the incident is cited as an 
instance of proud nobility of soul. Callot was 
in the highest sense polite. 
Politeness is shown by passing over the faults 
and foibles of those whom you meet. Cultivate 
this especially towards relatives. The world is 
severe iu its judgment of those who expose the 
faults of kindred, no matter what the provoca¬ 
tion may be. Vulgar families are almost always 
at feud. It is not. polite to detail injuries which 
you may have received from tiny one, unless 
there exists some urgent necessity for so doing. 
-- 
PERSONAL GOSSIP. 
— Bishop Morris, of the Methodist Episco¬ 
pal Church, thus sums up his ministerial labors 
for the last fifty years :—Sermons preached 7,500, 
miles traveled *200,000, annual conferences pre¬ 
sided at 200, preachers ordained 5,000, preachers 
appointed to tbeir work 20,000. 
— All who have read the Springfield (Mass.) 
Republican during the past two years will re¬ 
member the war correspondence over the signa¬ 
ture of “ Dunn Browne.” This was the nomine 
de plume of Oapt. (Rev.) Samuel Fibre, of 
Madison, Ct. lie Was pastor of a Congrega¬ 
tional Church in the above named place when 
he joined the army. He was wounded during 
the recent battles in the Wilderness and died of 
the wound at redcrieksburg. He leaves a wife 
and one child. 
— M. Allard, a distinguished painter, of 
Lyons, who at the commencement of the winter 
went to Rome with his mother, wife, and font- 
children, to study the great masters, has just 
been murdered in his studio. When found he 
afotellt fffMSittgs. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker, 
THE TWO MITES. 
“And ne looked up and saw the rich men casting 
their gifts into the treasury. And He saw also a certain 
poor widow casting in thither two mites, and 11a said 
of a truth Isay onto you that, this poor widow hath 
cast in more than they all .”—Luke 2l«i: 1-2-3. 
The man of sorrows saw. with thoughtful eye, 
The rich, the proud, approach in state and cast 
Their offerings in the treasury. Some with 
Affected meekness, some with careless mein, 
As of their wealth they gave a trifling part;— 
Not such as woke within their hearts sweet thoughts 
Of gentle charity, or caused the loss 
To them of one accustomed luxury. 
What sadness settled on the Savior’s brow 
As He, reading their hearts, perceived the want 
Of worthy motive, prompting to the deed. 
But m he mused, lo, one approached alone I 
A widow, ono on whom the world ne’er smiled, 
Who cast two mites, her earthly all, within. 
She knew not whence her daily bread would come, 
Nor what dire want might wait upou ber way; 
But such a living Tnith in the Most High 
Had she, that with uudoubtlng heart, to Him 
She yielded up her all, in loving trust 
That all her future wants He would supply. 
O, when the gentle Teacher searched her heart, 
8 o free from taint of worldliness, so strong 
In holy love and faith, how thrilled His heart! 
Turning to those about Him, ns she passed, 
He spake- “ I say unto you, of a truth, 
She hath given more than all.* 7 
How true of all 
Our works and gifts to day these words remain! 
Not they who of their rich abundance give 
Large gifts shall be most blest, but they 
Who willingly would place their future iu 
God’s band, giving their all to help His cause— 
They are most truly His. Knowing our hearts, 
The judgment still shall be, however small 
The gift, ’tis the pure motive hallows it. 
Elkhorn, Wis., 1864. b. c. t. 
“WELL DONE,” 
These ave the terms in which the great 
Ruler will finally welcome his true aud faithful 
servants. It is matchless commendation. There 
is in it no mixture of reproof, no whisper of 
censure, nas human praise ever approached 
it? What can equal this unerring “praise of 
God?” Not he who is fluttered by mortal lips, 
not he that commendeth himself, is approved; 
hut whom the Lord eommemleth. And this is 
the seal of the righteous:—“The Lord knoweth 
them that are his.” He notices their constancy 
and fidelity; 
He knows, and he approves 
The way the righteous go; 
guiding them throughout the whole of their 
course. When the race is run, and they have 
reached the goal, be will be ready there to greet’ 
them with his recognition and his love. 
How sweetly such greeting will sound in the 
ears of the saved! Having, through much trib¬ 
ulation, entered into rest, upon tho believer's 
entrance into the paradise of God the tried and 
faithful one will meet this precious welcome. 
How it will thrill his soul to hear it! What 
rapture for him to receive it from the lips of his 
Lord! “Here at last,” will be his blissful 
thought, “here I find myself in heaven! Life's 
eventful raco on the earth is run! Toil and suf¬ 
fering fare at an end! Tho tight of faith is 
fought! The victory is won! All my doubts 
and fears triumphant grace has forever quelled! 
Perils and hardships are all, all passed 1 Aud 
here am I at home, in my blessed Master’s pres¬ 
ence. Can it be that be is addressing unworthy 
me in words like these? To myself T seem to 
be less than the least of all saints; and yet I 
hear him say 4 Well done!' even to me. Of 
what profit, have I ever been to him? What 
have 1 ever done for him who gave himself to 
the death for me? If I had gained anything by 
trading, the praise must all be his. 1 am a saved 
sinner, a debtor to his grace, a monument of 
mercy. With all my imperfections and unprof¬ 
itableness as a Christian, he is graciously pleased 
to recognize, to receive, to welcome nte. In the 
hearing of all heaven, lie greets me, fresh from 
the scenes and experiences of the earthly vine¬ 
yard, with the salutation, ‘Well done!’ This, 
then, U the kindness of the Lord to his servant.” 
was iu a dying state, having received no Jess 
than sixteen wounds on the head with a heavy 
instrument. The murderer is believed to be a 
man who sat to him as a model for a picture rej>- 
resenting “ Judas giving the kiss to our Savior.” 
The model was setting for the figure of the be¬ 
trayer. The man has since been arrested iu 
Civita Yecebia, the seaport of Rome. 
— A CORRESPONDENT of the Rochester Dem¬ 
ocrat, writing of what he saw in some artist’s 
studio iu Washington, says:—“ The cast of Mr. 
Chase'S head was most striking; towering iu 
the moral regions above all the others, with 
Force prominent upon the side and top head, the 
appetites and passions chastened, and the me¬ 
chanical talents, and all the diverting organs, 
small. It is the largest head of the group, and 
how the massive brow expands and rises so 
like the brow of Webbi er! But Benevolence 
predominates upon his centre forehead, with 
more distinctness than on Webster’s. The 
great organ of Finance—which phrenologists 
Inadequately name ‘ Calculation 5 — swells above 
the outer corners of his eyes as if it were some 
unnatural development. This head is n notice¬ 
able one for craiuologists. Caution large, Vene¬ 
ration small, Causality and all tho refleetives 
immense. Individuality—that is, thoroughness, 
and attention to details —jutting out like a huti 
toruut above the nose — this is pre-eminently 
the head of a thinking man and a prudent radi¬ 
cal. SAt. MON 1\ Chase is the finest looking 
man i have ever met, and I doubt if there is an¬ 
other in America whose mere presence would 
so impress oue with his greatness.” 
His grace will all the work perform, 
And give the free reward. 
Christianity. — Wliat do you gain by 
becoming a Christian man or woman! Rather 
should you ask, what do I lose by staying where 
I ant? In the one case, you gain everything, 
in the other case, you lose everything. For in 
the oue case, acting from a new set of principles 
your life is filled with harmony ami beauty; and 
in the other ease, mystery is added to mystery, 
pain to pain, death to death; and no light from 
tlie window of heaven bursts upon your soul. 
What do you gain? Or what do you lose? 
Just look at those who have followed Christ, 
and then at those who have let him alone, and 
you aro fully answered. 
Men cannot get to heaven by any way they may 
please. There are uo secret by-roads by which 
they can gain a short aud easy access to the rear 
gates of tho eternal city. It. has only a front 
entrance, and all that would pass through it 
must approach by the *' Street called Straight," 
ami reach the end only after patient toll, and 
repeated efforts and conflicts and victories. 
Cheerfulness.— Cheerfulness is the pro¬ 
moter of health. Repining* and murmurlugs of 
the heart, give imperceptible strokes to those J 
delicate fibers of which the vital parts are com¬ 
posed, and wear out the machine. Cheerfulness ’ 
is as friendly to the mind as to the body. It 
banishes all anxious care and discontent; soothes « 
ami composes the passions, and keeps the soul in ( 
a perpetual calm.— Addison, 
