HOOKE'S KUKAL 1EW-YOKEER. 
"Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
STEPPING-STONES. 
BT BERTHA. 
Witch the busy day’s labors were over at last, 
And God's signal lights gleamed in the blue, 
By the streams where the cooling waves wandered on 
fast, 
I listened, and thought love, of you, 
I had thought through the silence I heard thy dear 
voice, 
And now through the gloom I conld see 
You were coming, (it made my sad spirit rejoice,) 
O’er the stepping-stones olden to me. 
And I waited in silence, forgetting my pain, 
And my sad heart leaped high as of old, 
And the old fires burned brightly and joyous again, 
Though I once feared their ashes were cold. 
I forgot all my sorrows, forgot all the past, 
Forgetting all else then but thee. 
Through the gathering gloom, you were coming at last 
O’er the stepping-stones olden, to me. 
When this life's busy day wanes to twilight at last, 
And my life-star goes out in the bine, 
By Death’s stream where the tide-waves roll noiseless 
and fast, 
1 shall wait in the gloaming for you. 
I shall listen and wait for thy voice as of old, 
I shall gaze thy swift footsteps to see; 
Will yon come? though the dark waves are threat’ning 
and cold, 
O’er Viose stepping stones olden to me? 
THE DRESS QUESTION. 
(We have sundry communications on this question 
which indicate the current of opinion on the subject, 
and we give such of them as we can find room for in 
this number of the Rural. J 
Eds. Rural New-Yorker: —As the subject 
of dress is beiug discussed through the columns 
of the Rurai,, I should like to say a few words 
to the ladies. I am not going to talk to those 
who sit idly in parlors, or spend their time in 
useless employ: except to simply say, keep still, 
’tls none of your business what those wear who 
see lit to do their duty. 
I advocate the dress reform. I have woru 
short dresses for the past three years, and find 
them much more convenient than the long trail¬ 
ing dresses, which require one hand to keep 
them from under the feet, and out of slops and 
mud, thereby leaving but one band entirely free 
to work with. I think those who have worn 
short dresses will agree with me in saying 
they are a great saving, in both time and pa¬ 
tience. I have done more work within the last 
three years than I could possibly have done had 
I been obliged to have kept one hand occupied 
in taking care of long skirts. And, sisters, no¬ 
ble women of the North, now is the time to 
work if we ever do; while our brothers are 
fighting for the Union, we should not sit idly 
down and wait for the victory, but do our duty, 
and do it faithfully, as become the "women of 
such a nation. 
A word to the gentlemen and I close. Gen¬ 
tlemen, I do not advocate short dresses any¬ 
where but at home, at work. At church and 
on the street, I think long dresses much more 
becoming, and wear them myself. Short ones 
are only for work: have you any objections to 
them there ? If you have, I would suggest that 
you put on long skirts, and wear them for one 
week, wash, mop, milk, work in the garden, and 
if necessary help plant corn. If you don’t lay 
them aside at the end of the week, and say, 
ladies, wear short dresses to work in by all 
means, you have more patieuce than falls to the 
lot of most mortals. Stellie. 
Prairie Home, Mich., 1864. 
Gussie Gumption, of Woodchuck Hollow, 
writes us as follows ou this subject:—“ Now I 
never wrote a ’piece for the paper’ in my life; 
but being a farmer’s daughter, and the oldest one 
at home, in a family which contains a baker’s 
dozen, I am of course very much interested in 
Hie costume which the wise ones may decide to 
bo right and proper for us farmers wives and 
daughters to wear; and I feel an irresistible 
impulse to jot do wn my experience and thoughts 
for the contemplation of any interested. 
I have worn dresses manufactured after Mrs. 
G. H.’s mode (see page ISO, current volume Ru¬ 
ral,) for nearly a year, only I make the skirt a 
little longer, and as yet have not worn any hoops 
with them. I think, however, I shall adopt 
them for summer use, as it will be an improve¬ 
ment, if of a suitable size. 
There is nothing like the Bloomer for out-door 
work, and even for housework. I woufd not 
again don my long dresses on any consideration; 
for, besides being more convenient and economi¬ 
cal, (which in these times is a strong argument 
in their favor,) they save a vast amount of wash¬ 
ing; for w’ho does not know teat the bottoms of 
these long dresses are always getting soiled be¬ 
fore the rest even looks mussed ? Bloomers, as 
we call them, are worn here a great deal by 
farmers daughters who are independent enough 
to do as they please in spite of Mrs. Grundy, 
or her son. 1 ’ 
Viola H. E. protests—and it is only fair that 
we give it in this connection — in the following 
language:—*• Timothy Titcomb, in his ‘Bes¬ 
sons in Life,’ grants us all the right to do us vve 
please. Men and women will follow the leadings 
of fashion more or less. In vain, I imagine, 
have Mrs. Smith, C. N. Little, or Minnie 
Mintwood, aud other writers, both men and 
women, given advice, suggested different dress, 
complained of mankind in general, and quarreled 
with each other through the columns of the 
Rural. I never have adopted any of the 
fashions proposed, nor do 1 intend to; and I am 
very sure no person in the possession of a mod- 
crate amount of common sense ever would. It 
only makes us indignant. If Mrs. Smi th wishes 
to array her form in Bloomers, no one will ob¬ 
ject. If C. A. L. wishes to enjoy the conven¬ 
ience of hoops through life, we all wish her 
desire to be consummated, but we intend to do 
as we please. 
"We have books in abundance ou physiology. 
We have magazines filled with fashion plates, 
which are more suggestive than any written 
article can be. We would enjoy the ladies’ 
column if those who contribute to its store 
would fill it with thoughts which reach above 
the faults in humanity, and the faults in human¬ 
ity's clothes. We all feel these things without 
being told of it once a week, and are trying to 
improve. Even if we did not think of it our¬ 
selves, it is not half the importance the cultiva¬ 
tion of our minds is. I had rather the columns 
were filled with Sabbath Musings, for then I 
could read and feel encouraged aud bettered by 
it, instead of discouraged, mortified and indig- 
naut. I know a great many good men and 
women who dress in the fashion, w : ho always 
appear comfortable, and make those in their 
company feel so. Ob, Mr. Moore, we do wish 
to be true, good men and women, but we don’t 
wish our rights interfered with. We will read 
and prize anything else for our good, but don’t 
talk so much about American women. 
These complaining mortals would find just as 
much fault with English men and women, were 
they Europeans, for it is natural for some peo¬ 
ple to be displeased with all that is their own; 
they are the very ones that are degenerating 
the fastest, and who will do mankind the least 
good. I simply suggest they shut themselves 
up in their rooms, and read * Lessons in Life,’ 
and apply as much of it to themselves as they 
can.’’ 
Jane E. Higby writes: —“Mrs. Smith’s 
article on dress js a truthful one: but while such 
a chauge would be very desirable as a matter 
of convenience, there are several reasons why 
it will not become practicable. Tu the first 
place, the present style is the most becoming in 
which to clothe the female form. The airy 
grace, so often spoken of as belonging to our sex, 
is in a great measure due to our peculiar dress, 
and we are justly proud of the distinction. But 
we might sacrifice our woman’s love of beauty 
to the purely Yankee idea of mailing everything 
practically useful, were it not the case that we 
dress for the other sex, (or that we should, if 
we do not,) and not for ourselves. I dare say, it 
was not a ‘fear of losing his sovereignty’ by 
our conscripting the pants (which if we consider 
the new style of equestrian dress, was s fear well 
founded,) that troubled the Hamilton editor, but 
a desire to save, if possible, the most essential 
element of apparel which preserves our woman¬ 
ly grace and beauty, so lovely in the eyes of 
man—that modesty of dress which goes farther 
toward making us seem to him the purer part of 
creation, thau merely practical minds could ever 
understand. 
I never yet saw or heard of the man who was 
willing that his mother, sister, daughter, or the 
woman who in any way M as aught to him, 
should cut her hair. Aud why should he? 
“For if a woman have long liair, is It not a 
glory to her?’’ Neither did I ever hear an ad¬ 
mirer of the sex speak in terms of approbation 
of the Bloomer costume; and I always feel that 
the one who wears it brings a slur upon the 
whole sisterhood of mankind. But I hear some 
one say • Why not adopt this costume for the 
kitchen, and -ave the flowing robes for the par¬ 
lor?' Simply because it degrades labor. 1 know 
many who do so, but at the same time they 
would be unwilling to appear at the door for uu 
early caller on business or otherwise. No true 
lady who is obliged to attend to domestic duties 
w ill be contented to do so in apparel which is 
either too untidy or unbecoming to be seen by 
neighbor or stranger if necessary. 
Again. If flowing robes aud graceful folds 
are becoming, no belle of the draw ing-room will 
lay them by: and in this Republican America, 
where parlor and kitchen stand almost side by 
side, it would make too wide a distinction be¬ 
tween labor and aristocracy, for farmer's w ives 
and daughters to don the opposite. In England, 
and nearly all the leading monarchies in the old 
world, the peasantry or working classes are 
marked by the dress. Such is the characteristic 
of any monarchy—the degradation of labor by 
a ruling aristocracy. Thanks to our Republican 
institutions, the woman who attends to her own 
household affairs, and the ‘ lady of rank,’ can 
meet in society on common ground, graceful 
array becoming each alike. No would-be social 
tyrant can point to the farmer’s vv i fe or daughter, 
or even to her servant, as she treads the pave¬ 
ment, and suy because of her costume, ‘behold 
one of our working class; I am higher than 
thou,’ We have no peasantry in America, we 
wish no peasant's dress. Labor does not de¬ 
grade: why should we degrade labor?’’ 
GOOD MANNERS AMONG CHILDREN, 
It is a very graceful habit for all children to 
say to each other, “Will you have the good¬ 
ness?” nnd “I thank you." We do not like to 
see prim, artificial children; there are few r 
things we dislike so much us a miniature beau 
or belle. But the habit of good manners by no 
means implies affection or restraint. It is quite 
as easy to say, “ l'leuse give me a piece of pic,” 
as to say, “ I want a piece of (tie.” 
The idea that constant politeness would len¬ 
der social life stiff and restrained, springs from 
ft false estimate of it. True politeness is perfect 1 
ease and freedom. Il simply consists in treating 
others just as you would like to be treated your- 1 
self. A person who acts from this principle 
will always be said to have “sweet, pretty 
ways with her.” i 
It is of some consequence that your daughter 
should know how to enter and leave a room 1 
gracefully; but It is of much more consequence 
that she should avoid what is offensive to others, : 
and always prefer their pleasure to her own. i 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
NO RAIN IN JUNE. 
BY VEKONA COE. 
O never the fall of a rain drop 
Bounds through tho air of June; 
Aud never the shape, of a shadow, 
Lengthens across the noon. 
And the trees, in the pale green forest, 
Slow shivering under the sun, 
Are pushed to and fro by the breezes 
Thai through them, aud over them, run. 
But wr watch all in vain for the pulsing 
Of quick, bright raiu in the woods, 
And we hearken at night for the falling 
Of silvery, musical floods. 
Yet, haply, not even a dew drop 
Falls through the nights of June, 
While the shadows, In dubious silence, 
Sail sidewise under tbe moon. 
And wc say, “ ’Us the sign of the coming 
Of floods from the upper air, 
For the spirits have gathered the dew-drops, 
And carefully garnered them there. 
“And anon we shall list to tbe music 
Of rains siugtng down through the night, 
In globules of shimmering crystal, 
'Mid flashes of tremulous light.” 
But the clouds lead off to the leeward, 
And the planets flash auu burn. 
And tbe moon comes up from the shadows 
That are sileutly drifting astern. 
And the night grows white with the morning, 
And the morning flames into noon, 
And never the fall of a rain-drop 
bounds through the day's of June. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
LIBERALITY. 
Of all the various attributes that distinguish 
character, there is perhaps not one more essen¬ 
tial for the success of an earnest life-worker than 
pure Liberality. That spirit which quickly dis¬ 
cerns aud meets the wants of the unfortunate, 
which befriends the outcast and relieves the 
suffering of earth's children is one we admire 
and love to venerate. We delight to behold it, 
as it goes forth from positions of affluence and 
the home unknown, to want, to mingle with 
those of humbler life: to seek the lonely and the 
helpless, and, by the generosity of earthly 
means, to give to the fainting heart new hopes 
of life and better views of mankind. Noble, 
indeed, is its humble mission, humane and ele¬ 
vating its achievements; 
But genuine Liberality is not limited to these 
noble and praiseworthy manifestations. The 
use of wealth is uot the only power at its com¬ 
mand. It does not tflisown the appropriate use 
of physical means, buit encircles even these with 
a girdle of holy influences — worthy purposes 
and exalted motives,—emanating from a pure 
and contrite heart. As itself implies, it is an 
exalted power and owns no limit to its munifi¬ 
cence. It. revels in fields of light, and gaining 
new vigor at the fountain of truth, from the 
heart, reaches out into the world of thought 
and deals with the elements of our social natures 
— with opinions, prejudices, and the emotions 
of inner life. 
It bears itself not with lofty mien, sweeping 
opinions before it like an avalanche—breaking 
those that will not bend and crushing those that 
will uot yield, and seeking a combat with every 
mind it meets. It seeks uot strife and conten¬ 
tion, but uses the pleasant means of conciliation; 
bears, with patience, whatever mental storms 
may sweep against it, and in the might of moral 
influence, harmonizes the turbulent passions 
which excite the mind. 
Does some spirit, for an opinion, assail, it 
girds not on hostile armor, impetuous to give 
blow for blow and thrust for thrust; neither 
does it shrink from the contest; but true to 
duty, carefully examines and willingly concedes 
all rightful claims, aud if still compelled to dif¬ 
fer, wins its adversary to view all differences in 
truth and sincerity. Is one maimed by preju¬ 
dice, the liberal heart seeks not to add to tbe 
cruel weight of suffering by indifference or by 
careless word or act, but viewing the causes 
that first turned, and have borne so far from 
justice and happiness, gives the friendly hand of 
sympathy, allays its fears, soothes its passions, 
and calms the troubled spirit. 
What a healttiful influence seems to surround 
us as wo associate with the unselfish, whole- 
souled, liberal man! Tbe atmosphere no longer 
is burdened with the noxious vapors of rankling 
passion, envy, malice, fceliidmeas and jealousy, 
and wc breathe freer; and our whole being 
seems animated with the vigor of a new exist¬ 
ence. A quiet consciousness of safety takes pos¬ 
session of the soul. No fear of secret Ijing in 
wait to discover some secret spring of our sensi¬ 
tive natures, and to open to the assaults of 
reproach and calumny, under the dark mantle 
of insinuation. 
There is no desire there to obtain prominence 
of position by being the herald of another’s im¬ 
perfections, either real or assumed; but he gives 
the benefit of benevolence aud charity; not that 
charity alone which seeks to hide a multitude of 
sins, hut that which stays judgment, grants to 
all the privilege of time for vindication and an 
impartial mind to receive the truth. We are 
drawn nearer by the friendly mien, for frankness 
beams in his countenance and honesty is seen in 
every act. Our hearts are opened, confidence 
takes the place of fear; for we know, even if we 
have not right views, that person will uot sound 
the alarm of suspicion, but will lend the helping 
hand to assist us in correcting our errors, and be 
our guide to improvement. 
Oh ! could there be more charity, more liber¬ 
ality of spirit, far wider would be the field of 
usefulness, larger would be the increase of good, 
and far more contentment and peace of mind 
would exist. Where now there is concealment 
of hopes and views for fear of ridicule through 
a betrayal of confidence, there would be more 
cordiality and frankness, more real workers 
where the useful are needed, aud less cause for 
complaint. There are many sensitive natures 
that are deterred from doing the good they 
might through dread of indolent volunteer 
critics, who do nothing themselves, but with 
eagle eyes watch the steps of others. 
The chief aud most relentless enemy to the full 
exercise of Liberality is Bride. It is the wedge 
of discord that insinuates itself into families and 
societies, and where there might be free good 
will, generosity and unanimity of effort, it forces 
them far asunder, and often wages ft war of ex¬ 
termination. Does one advance gome plan for 
the general good, too often there suddenly 
arises a spirited opposition through selfish fear 
that some one is to be benefited, or honor is to 
be gained; or, perhaps, another plan is brought 
forward and urged with unyielding force, which 
excites kindred ■combativeness, and both too 
proud to yield, or unite in friendly conciliation, 
the good designs that both had iu view are lost. 
One society deems itself superior to another. 
Kindred dislike or aversion, is the result, and 
both fail in doing the good they might, had they 
labored iu unison of purpose, guided by unselfish 
views. This subtle power creeps in where sel¬ 
fishness and pride never should be known, and 
much less manifested. 
The existence of such unpleasant elements 
can but cause pain to any true aud honest heart. 
How essential that we earnestly study to know 
the true principles of living—where and how 
most good may be disseminated. To know 
others, and how certain means will affect them, 
we must siudy ourselves; aud to know our¬ 
selves, view the results of influences upon 
others. Then may we cherish more regard for 
the opinions of those about us, knowing that 
there is no one so humble but in something he 
excels, and may teach us,—knowing, too, that 
the reserve or apparent unfriendliness of those 
about us may be but our own course mirrored 
back to us. 
And profiting by careful study, through the 
pure principles of Humility, forgetting self in 
the broader and liberal views of Philanthropy, 
we may rise higher in the scale of Christian 
excellence. J. E. Harkness. 
Cincinnati!s, ISM. 
-»■ * 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
LITTLE BY LITTLE. 
It is an universal law that every effect results 
from some cause, and it is no less certain that 
every cause produces its corresponding effect 
What that effect may be, or how it may be 
modified by secondary causes, is not always 
given us to know, but that its occurrence is 
necessary the human mind is so constituted as 
to entertain no doubt 
This uatura! tendency is strengthened by the 
experience of daily life, until we almost distrust 
the testimony of our senses when they announce 
to us any unusual result We say at once, “ It 
ought to be so and so;’’ nor does the mind rest 
satisfied until some secondary cause can be 
shown to exist, aud its modifying influence 
clearly ascertained. The lessons thus gathered 
by experience from tbe outer world probably 
incline us to expect from every cause some 
immediate result The more common and ev¬ 
ident changes around us seem almost insen¬ 
sibly to lead us to this expectation. The 
sun sets and it is night; the earth receives 
the directer rays of light and heat, aud sum¬ 
mer smiles upon the lauscapc; the seed falls 
into the ground, and presently the green blade 
comes forth, rejoicing in its new life; the frost 
falls, and the verdure withers and dies. In all 
these instances wc see direct results, and if our 
observations are limited or superficial, we read¬ 
ily conclude that such is Nature’s law. 
If we look more closely, however, we shall 
fiud that even in the material world another law 
prevails. By silent, insensible influences, pro¬ 
tracted through long periods of time, does Na¬ 
ture accomplish her great results. Through 
the slow agency of frost and dew, of sunshine 
and storm, the process of disintegration is car¬ 
ried on, and the towering rock melts insensibly 
into the plain. The current rolls a stream of 
sand along the Mississippi’s bed, and in the lapse 
of years islands and capes grew up around its 
OJQftn mouth. The sea shrinks from Its shores 
and again encroaches upon the land; thus slowly 
but steadily Adria becomes au inland town, and 
Venire slnka«beneath the waves. 
Nature, rightly understood, is a slow worker. 
Not suddenly, uot by a single stroke, does she 
effect her changes. Little by little is her rule, 
and patiently she awaits the result. It may be 
immediate; it may be far removed; but it is 
always sure. l. a. o, 
- -» «■»- 
Timothy Titcomb (J, G. Holland, Esq.,) 
is certainly a most striking proof that the pen is 
not tho weapon of poverty. Not mauy years 
ago, friends will remember, he was indeed poor 
and unfortunate. Hut ho clung most faithfully 
to the spirit that moved within him, aud worked 
right valiantly over all doubt and difficulty, 
until his ideal is well-nigh perfect, ami no hand¬ 
somer home looks down all the Connecticut 
Valley than the elegant, tasteful and cheerful 
“Brightwood,” tho homo of his own planning. 
It is located near Springfield, Mass., upon » 
beautiful rise of ground that commands a far 
and near view of surpassing loveliness. Should 
you chance to pass up that long driveway that 
leads through the forest to his door-way, you 
would not think that authorship is the road to 
misfortune. And should you meet there tho 
doctor himself, and receive the cordial welcome 
lie can give, you would think only of a wealth 
such us any one might envy, and a happiness 
that few homes bestow. “Brightwood” is all 
brighter and beautiful. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
QUESTIONINGS. || 
- 
BY A ELEN DE LEE. 
And did I say an angel’s ken 
Can pierce thy closed portals? 
That thou art compassed night and day, 
My soul, by the immortals? 
Nay, closer, nearer, one looks out 
With wings that hrnod und tremble; 
With power to touch a nerveless hand 
Or lips, If they dissemble— 
With wings that can receive a stain 
Thro’ thy influence only: 
Then watch, nr thou wilt oft forget 
The guest, so pore and holy! 
And did I say an angel’s voice 
From heaven, some day, shall call thee? 
My soul, be very stilt, nor let 
The still small voice appall thee. 
But listen! from within Ihou’lthear, 
Each day, a “come up higher;”— 
Walk firmly! Lhon hast feet to climb; 
Walk humbly, yet aspire. 
Aud did I say, some luture day 
Tnon'lt waken in God's likeness?— 
And stand by angel hands arrayed 
In robes of spotless whiteness? 
A robe immortal thou most wear, 
And shining as the morning;— 
Yet know the texture of that robe 
Thy hands are daily forming. 
And did I say, 0 spirit, wait! 
Thoui’t enter heaven some morrow? 
Thou needst not work, be still and pray 
Thro’ the dark night of sorrow ? 
It may be well to meekly wait, 
If hands meanwhile are toiling; 
No inward shrinking irom God’s work 
Will keep our robes from soiling. 
With hands that reach toward the earth 
In ceaseless, kind endeavor 
To raise thy fellows from the dust, 
Thou may’st yearn heavenward ever. 
La Crosse, Wis., 1S64. 
• - - - -♦ «•» ■■ — 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
THE EMPLOYMENT OF ANGELS. 
_ 9 
Of augels we know but little: inspiration has 
given them to us as bright, glorious creatures 
with holy natures, doing the bidding of God. 
They heralded the birth of the Incarnate, and a 
host were present joining- r n the glorious anthem, 
“Peace ou earth.” The; are ministering spirits; 
one appeared to the sutcrcr in Gethsemane, and 
with healing, loving wards, strengthened the 
agonized pleader. "Wt think of them at way;, 
in Heaven; yet, if we diw but consider, many 
the things regarded as oj •miens of N ' ’re, are’ 
of angelic instrumentality. Flowers have been 
styled “ Thoughts of God,” atd it is a beaut if'.; 
thought of poetry, that “ anf.tfs superintec 
their growth,—their fingers forat the delicate 
petals, and iluir breath imparts Vo them thJ.r , 
fragrance, and they are placed here to remind 
us of Heaven, and to inspire us with pure and 
holy aspirations; every one teaches a lesson. 
How far they may be connected with music is 
seldom dwelt upon; yet the holy Influence which 
it exerts, the tendency it has to draw us heaven¬ 
ward, and the power it has to destroy sinful 
purposes—do uot these all speak of angels’super¬ 
intendence? We all have guardian angels who 
enfold us in their wings, thus shielding us from 
a closer contact with the cold, selfish world. 
And when the waves of sorrow have gone over 
us, and life seems but a dreary waste, how 
gently they wipe away the falling tear, with 
what tenderness aud love do they whisper of 
“brighter realms beyond,” and bid the dark 
heart-tumult hush to peace. Yes! their home 
is with mankind as well as in Heaven; they send 
the rays of light and joy, which sometimes dart 
across our pathway, making life what otherwise 
would he a dark, cheerless void. Let us recog¬ 
nize their ministrations, and thus be led to 
entertain purer thoughts and desires. 
Waverly, N. Y., 1864. Mary. 
Godly Sorrow.—T he broken box of Mary, 
who poured the ointment on the feet of Jesus, 
was but the symbol of her now broken and con¬ 
trite heart, out of which love aud grief aud 
hopes, perfumes more exquisite thau spikenard, 
flowed freely. And Christ understood it all. 
He knew the secret of her grief, and she read 
llis acceptance in His smile. That is a beautiful 
saying of St. Augustine, “if thou wouldst that 
the Most High should draw uigh to thee, be 
lowly. God Is above all. Thou raisest thyself, 
and touehest not Him; thou humblest thyself, 
und, lo! lie dcsccudeth unto thee.” Luther hit 
the mark when he said, “ What are all the 
palaces of the world to a contrite heart; yea, 
heaven and earth, seeing it is the seat of the di¬ 
vine Majesty?” 
" — 
Trust U ncon dithjn a lly.—“T here shall be 
no loss of any man’s life among you, but of the 
ship,” and yet Paul says, “ Except these abide 
in the ship, ye cannot be saved.” Wo may trust 
unconditionally, ourselves only conditionally- 
By faith we may rely upon Him, nothing waver¬ 
ing; but wavering in self-confidence, wc must 
watch and pray would we enter not into tempta¬ 
tion. His promises arc sure. It is our confi¬ 
dence in them which Is insecure. We are chang¬ 
ing, and hence often doubting; Gou is ever the 
same. The lives of those in the ship could not 
he lost, though there was no natural impossi- , 
bility iu the way, and Ho is “ able to keep that 
which is committed to Him against that day. 
--—- 
Though it be a Christian's sorrow that ho o 
hath sin to bewail; yet ’tis his joy that he hath 
a heart to bewail his sin. 
