Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ONE TRUSTING HEART. 
BY A. T. ALU8. 
Mtd life, so foil of care and woe,— 
Of aching hearts and flowing tears, 
Of transient joys that come and go, 
And intermingled hopes and fears; 
A balm for much ot earthly ill 
Is in the thought, that, pure and free, 
One trusting heart is heating still, 
One heart is heating still for me. 
Not wholly is this life an blest, 
Howe’er its fragile liarqne be driven, 
This heart of mine hath still some rest 
While trusting love to it is given. 
Each hour of pam is less severe— 
Each Messing richer joys impart 
While cherishing this thought so dear: 
There beats for me one trusting heart 
I envy not the rich their gold, 
Nor covet what may not be mane, 
Yet life to me would soon grow old 
And weary, did no rays divine 
Break through the drapery of gloom 
That veils my life in mystery, 
And for this one sweet IhoDght moke room: 
One trusting heart still beats for me. 
Though years roll on and each, alone, 
Life's rugged, thorny path shall tread 
Till lesser joys and hopes nr? flown. 
And loved one* mingle wit h the dead, 
This hope, this joy shall ever thrill 
My yearning soul: that pure and free; 
One trusting hear: is beating still— 
One heart is beating still for me 
Fremont, N. Y., 1864 
Written for Moore’e Rural New-Yorker. 
MY DRESS. 
A Rural correspondent of Saltfleet, C. W., 
lias expressed some regret that I did not give my 
opinion in regard to what women should wear, 
with some comments on the hoop skirt, which I 
wrote some time ago. As that article of apparel 
does not belong to the catalogue which she de¬ 
sired to have enumerated, the enumeration of it 
was not relevant to any subject. Besides, I do 
not assume to teach, or to dictate for others who 
have as much common sense as myself. To 
gratify my present desire, I will describe a full 
costume which is, in its essential principles, what 
I think 1 ought to wear until I learn of a better 
one. Having had four years of practical exper¬ 
imenting in different styles of-dress, and having 
been but little better than an invalid during any 
part of that time, I consider myself capable of 
judging which of the different styles I have 
worn is best adapted to my own comfort and 
convenience. 
In the making of the costume, three impor¬ 
tant points should be considered unchangeable, 
vizIt should be a suitable covering and pro¬ 
tection tor the whole of the body that needs 
both —which, I think, includes the arms and 
shoulders. It should not be a “ tight at” in any 
part, and especially about the chest every gar¬ 
ment should be sufficiently loose to allow the 
fitting of the lungs at every breath. The skirts 
should be so short as not to be any restriction in 
walking, or at all troublesome in going up and 
down stairs, or performing any action which 
women of all classes find necessary to be done. 
In other respects, it admits more or less variety 
to accord with the taste, occupation, &c., of the 
noops the upper part of a skirt may be made 
narrow- with three or four light hoops inserted— 
the lower one not more than half a yard below 
— tne binding, or more thau a yard and a half in 
circumference, for a common sized woman—and 
>e moreen plaited on to this a little below the 
oinciing. For a permanent costume I should 
much prefer those made entirely of moreen, 
very full—as I think such substances as metal, 
wood, or whalebone, ungraceful in any part of a 
ladt’s dress. The skirt may be supported by 
suspenders or buttoned to one of the waists. 
Most ladies, in changing their style of dress, 
think, at first, the adoption of as much of a new 
one as I have described, is all the change neces¬ 
sary. It was a whole year before it occurred to 
me that my dress was gTeatly deficient in being 
a suitable protection for cold weather, and I 
might not have thoughtof it then, but for the 
remark of one of my physicians, to whom I 
spoke of kavtug pains in my arms, that it was 
no wonder if I wore only two or three thick¬ 
nesses of light cloth on them; for I ought to be as 
warmly clerked as himself. I exercised my in¬ 
genuity a little, and was so successful that for 
the past three winters I have been entirely free 
from the disagreeable pains, have scarcely been 
troubled at all with colds, and am so well sat¬ 
isfied with my invention in all respects, that I 
would rather be reduced to half rations than to 
be again deprived of comfortable clothing. It 
is an entire suit designed expressly for warmth, 
made of two thicknesses, one woolen flannel, 
with cotton between and quilted together, and 
cut to fit the form so snugly that the dress will 
set well over it. It takes less cloth than an ordi¬ 
nary quilted skirt, and the comparative comfort 
derived from it is too evident to need argument. 
If this should be too warm for persons in health, 
a similar one could be made less so. Jt should 
be high in the neck and have long sleeves; 
and may be & single garment, or two separate 
ones butt< ued together at the waist. A little 
reflection or experimenting will suggest the 
arrangen nt of minor matters of all parts of 
the drer . Lastly, or rather firstly, should be 
anothei' entire suit, which it is convenient to 
have c; t like the other, the material to be 
chosen with reference to being often washed, 
and a suitable fabric to be worn next t.o the 
flesh. I do not know what is best, but I should 
think the sleeping gown should be of the same, 
but never the same garment. j 
Thick, warm shoes or boots for cold and damp r 
weather are indispensable. If one pair of stock- a 
ings is not sufficient, another should be wont— j 
a single thickness seems an insufficient, protcc- j 
tion for the ankle, with ordinary balmoral shoes, 
whore the pants, If long, will leave some chance "j 
for exposure to cold—a tf ngev-length or more of k 
seamed knitting may be worn either outside or b 
inside of the stocking. If elastic bands are u 
thought unhealthful, it is a good way to button c. 
the tops of the stockings to tapes attached to 
the sides of the upper garments. v 
I suppose the sight of a lady iu rubber or gJ 
leather boots worn outside of the pants in the ^ 
rain or mud, would occasion a fainting fit to u 
some of the delicate nerved of our species, who fe 
$hma ipMlflttg. 
d THE BRIDGE OF CLOUD. 
e - 
d BT H. W. LONfiBBnnow. 
!> 
Burn, O evening hearth, and waken 
a Pleasant vision?, as of old! 
Though the house by winds be shaken, 
f Safe I keep the room of gold! 
Ah, no longer wizard Fancy 
’ BaUds its castles in the air, 
Lnring me by necromancy 
Up the never-ending stair! 
r Bnt, instead, it builds me bridges 
Over many a dark ravine, 
Where beneath the gusty ridges 
Cataracts dash and roar unseen. 
And I cross them, little heeding 
Blast of wind or torrent’s roar, 
As I follow the recoding 
i Footsteps that have gone before. 
Naught, avails the imploring gesture, 
Naught avails the cry of pain! 
When I touch the flying vesture, 
'Tis the gray robe of the rain. 
Baffled I return, and leaning 
O'er tiie parapets of closet, 
Watch the mist that, intervening 
Wraps the valley in its shroud. 
And the sounds of life ascending, 
Faintly, vaguely, meet, the ear, 
Murmur of bells and voices blending, 
With the rush of waters near. 
W.ell I know what there lies hidden, 
Every tower and town and farm, 
And again the land forbidden 
Iteassumes its vanquished charm. 
Well I know the secret places, 
And the nests in hedge and tree; 
At what doors arc friendly faces, 
In what hearts a thought of me. 
Throngh the must and darkness sinking, 
Blown by wind and beat by shower, 
Down 1 fling the thought I'm thinking, 
Down I toss this Alpine flower. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
SOFT-SOAP. 
I pray you, most gentle reader, you who in 
your daily ablutions manipulate the most highly 
perfumed aud daintily colored bits of condensed 
alkali, let not the facial muscles that govern 
your delicate olfactories contract in disgust as 
you read the above compound title. You have 
no good reason to scornfully treat my subject. 
You use the subject matter every day. You 
know you do. It’s my private opinion, never 
before publicly expressed, that soft-soap is more 
universally used throughout the world, the 
civilized part, at least, than any other article. 
And soft-soap has its virtu. ! It greases the 
Wheels of society, and causes it to roll on in 
smoothness. And more — it’s outward applica¬ 
tions, like those of some patent nostrums, affect 
us internally; go to our heart aud soften our 
this way you conciliate your opponent, and pre¬ 
pare him to receive with goodwill your opin¬ 
ions. A public speaker who has the ability to 
do this, finds in it one of his greatest elements 
of success. A skillful application of softisoap 
to an auditory, or the speaker who has pre¬ 
ceded, will win them to himself, will open their 
hearts and smooth the jagged edges of preju¬ 
dice, will he as oil on the troubled waves of 
unbelief; whereas a direct prooodure to the 
point in question, or a furious charge on the 
opposition will operate reversely, and widen 
still more the breaches of difference! 
Charles Fox, the rollicking, gaming Chas. 
Fox—he who stood opposed to the powerful 
Pitt, on the floor of the Honsc of Commons— 
knew' this well; and when he arose to com¬ 
mence one of those replies to his opponent that 
always carried his hearers with him, he invari¬ 
ably made such application, only then ’twas 
called “his art, his matchless art,” and ’tis said 
to have died with him. But I think not. His 
wonderful powers of applying it may have 
ceased to exist, but not the “it” itself! You 
have seen, and so have I, many a speaker and 
seeker after Demosthenical fame arise with an 
elaborately prepared extempore speech in his 
pocket, and have heard him prelude it with 
“ Ladies and Gentlemen: I thank you for the 
unexpected honor 1 have of appearing before so 
intel ligent and refined an assemblage, upon this 
august occasion!” 
Now, you and 1, my dear reader, with a few 
others, made up the “assemblage,” and we 
rather liked to bo addressed as “intelligent and 
refined;” of course wo did! And we gave the 
speaker credit for great discrimination, and 
lauded his extempore effort in the use of all the 
large adjectives our knowledge of grammar af¬ 
forded— certainly! 
1 must close with repeating, soft-soap greases 
the wheels of society! Whether some other 
lubricator would not be more profitable, is a 
debatable question; but, society won’t use it. 
Society prefers soft-soap. To improve Upon and 
poetize, the old version, society will “ kiss the 
blarney stone!” Gulielmum. 
Penfield, N. Y. Dec, 1864. 
--- 
PERSONAL GOSSIP. 
W,mmm 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker 
THE HAVEN. 
BY FRANCIS A. CORKY. 
O, LtTTr.K Barks, with nails nafnrl’d 
That venture out into the world 
Where storms arise, aud wild winds Mow— 
With wreck and min ever near, 
What is the por: to which you steer,— 
Anil to what hares will you go? 
loving Words, sent out at. sea 
To bring back Peace and Joy to me, 
To gather (Mod, to disarm Hate,— 
Why do you uot your kiml aid lend, 
And for the goal your white sails bend, 
When I can only watch and wait? 
O, cherished Hope, whose Bhining light 
Has ever wade my life so blight, 
Held back from ruin and despair,— 
Wild wastes of waters stretch away,— 
Prnition is the only bay, 
Will you not safely anchor there? 
O, earnest Faith, when will you rise 
To light Doubt’s ever dark’ning skies, 
And point to perfect Trust and Love? 
In every change, Tor woe or weal, 
I sadly long at heart to feel 
The only haven is Above. 
Medina, Mich., 1864. 
-- -»«♦ - 
LOOKING FROM SELF TO CHRIST. 
Young Christians, and older ones, too, often 
fall into spiritual darkness by thinking of their 
owu imperfections, rather than of Christ’s infi¬ 
nite love and fullness. They see little that is 
good in thorn selves, and it drives them almost 
to despair. The only sure ground of hope or 
of strength lies in a clear view of the Saviour's 
iufinite grace, aud a childlike trust in him. 
Leigh Richmond, in cue of his letters, gives 
some excellent advice: 
“Your occasional doubts und fears arise from 
too much considering faith and repentance as 
the grounds, rather than as the evidence of sal¬ 
vation. The truth is, that a weak faith makes 
the soul as secure, though not so happy, as a 
strong one; aud an imperfect repentance, as we 
deem it. may be sincere, and therefore a work 
— 1 Perley',” theWashington correspondent deem it, may be sincere, and 
of the Boston Journal, in an article on the Su- of grace. Our satvatlou is not because tee do so 
preme Court, relates the following anecdote of well, but because He whom we trust hath done 
Henry ClayMr. Clay was Speaker of the all things well. The believer is never more 
Ilou-e o t Representatives when he was retained happy nor secure than when, at the same mo- 
by the Governor of Kentucky to appear before went, he beholds and feels bis own vileness, and 
the Supreme Court and maintain the rights of also his Saviour’s excellence— 
that State against the pretensions of Virginia, <* < i thc chief of t-mm 
in a long contested suit growing out of what Bnt Jeans died for me, 
was termed the ‘occupying laws.’ When ho is the burden of Ills sung. Y« 
rose, it was with some slight agitation of man- self loo much ami the infini1 
ner, but he soon recovered his wonted com- you too little. For convietio: 
posure, aud held his auditors in admiring atteu- must look to your own heart • l 
tion, while he pronounced a most beautiful eu- your Saviour. Thus the wo 
logium upon the character of the sons of Ken- were to look only at thc brazei: 
tucky. The judges sat in their black robes of covery. The graces of the Spit 
office, sedate and attentive. Oueof them, Judge patience, goodness, laitb, etc.. 
“ ‘ I thc chief of sinners ant, 
Bat Jeans dlidfor me,’ 
is the burden of his song. You look at your¬ 
self too much, and the infinite price paid for 
you too little. For conviction, it is true, you 
must look to your own heart; but, for oomfott to 
your Saviour. Thus the wounded Israelites 
were to look only at thc brazen serpent for re¬ 
covery. The graces of the Spirit, such as love, 
patience, goodness, laitb, etc., are good things 
~ "7 7 1 7™ 7 UU1 >vuo reelings toward our fellow men and women cen- wfi-7 7 7 , em ’ J ut,fie Iiauence ’ goodness, laitb, etc., are good things 
would not hesitate, themselves to make any era]ly . g0 t0 our heiui and m l0 8 , (» «*pnew of the Hater Patti*,) for others to judge us by. But it is Christ Is 
sort of display that Madame Fashion should pidon9 we chancft to entertain 0 4 P *X W * S “ mveterate 8nufl - tttker ’ aud mailed him- reclined on, believed in, rested upon, loved and 
orderfor such an occasion! If any gentlemen in human nature; and soothe om troubled spirits , J,? TTm ^ ar8Ument,1 ° followed, that will speak to ourselves. By 
arc shocked, they may look at the style that and recencile Ua 0UrHelves autl friendsj! 1 « r p, hl,1 J l ’ e]f " itb ■ the Elating restorative, looking unto him we shall grow holy; and the 
doesn t shock them, or take a solacing look In Qf tbe flrgt Iuan (lt eoaldn - t huvo 5een a WQ _ Mr ’ Uay obsCrvlu " tb,8 > lnstea(1 proceeding, more holy we grow the more, we shall innnm 
the glass after a ball-day’s tramp through the 
mud! I only hope we shall all have the peace¬ 
ful privilege of wearing what we please! 
For out-door wear a hat that will protect the 
-- — MWIT « I4UU DUD 
Mr. Clay observing tins, instead of proceeding, more holy we grow the more we shall mourn 
advanced gracefully to the bench with his over sin, and be sensible how very short we 
fhniwl-1 Va .1 i. M .1 . ...11 I i « ■ • ' v 
wearer. 
Since I have become accustomed to seeing 
them, (and I have seen nearly a hundred ladies 
together, for a number of months, wearing them 
falling to all lengths from several inches above 
thc knee to nearly down to the ankle,) I think 
the skirts which reach to about an inch or two 
below the knee, in best taste for ladies younger 
than middle age. For older ones they look bet¬ 
ter some longer. About five breadths of calico 
and rather more of some kinds of material, is 
sufficiently wide for the dress-skirt. For the 
waist I like the Garibaldi waist, or something 
similar, as well as any—many other styles may 
as well be worn if fancied, A waist of a differ¬ 
ent color from the skirt, sometimes looks « ell, 
but tbe pants should be like the skirt, and the 
same material should reach qaite or nearly to 
the top, instead of being sewed on to auother 
color a little above the bottom of the dress. 
Those out like the present fashion of gentle¬ 
men’s pants, T think the most becoming of any 
I have ever seen, for ladies as well as gentle¬ 
men. The idea of wearing pants in the same 
shape as men’s, is at first repelling, but after we 
have become accustomed to them, it is no more 
so than that of wearing gloves like theirs, or 
sleeves of the same cut. They should be lined, 
(in the lower parts at least,) aud stiffened at the 
bottom. An objection to the Bloomer style, or 
those banded at the ankle, is, that if they are 
Ipng enough to draw in sitting down, they will 
hang over the band in standing, and, with the 
additional full ness required, are apt to look 
slovenly. Plain dresses are always jn good 
taste, but to some patterns a trimming is a 
pleasing addition—to the skirt as well as the 
waist, but not, in my opinion, to the pants— 
velvet, braiding, wide ruffles, Ac., are pretty. 
A belt or girdle, fastened before, a Utile to one 
side, with a bow and long, wide ends, is very 
pretty for some forms. The great inclination to 
wearing belts too small, is an objection to wear¬ 
ing them at all. I have wondered if elastic ones , 
would not be less objectionable. 
I have seen dresses made of the material 1 
called ladies’ cloth, worn without underskirts, 1 
that looked veiy well. A single one, of s me 1 
rather stiff, but light cloth, like moreen, is snffi- 1 
cient for any drees except those of very linn f 
texture with the skirt unliued. The color s 
should not make a great contrast with the color t 
of the dress. If it is desirable to wear any s 
tastefully trimmed that looked well for winter— 
and a cloak or saque with sleeves. It is a good 
thing to have an extra pair of pants, like a 
cloak which is as long as the dress, to wear 
when needed. T should think a Scotch plaid 
suit, with a sash, and jaunty cap with feathers, 
would make some little ladies look charming for 
a sleigh-rlde or skating costume. 
I do not know any important reason why it 
should be proper for women to wear long hair, 
and men short hair with the beard long; but it 
seems so to me. There are objections to most 
ways of confining the hair, as being unhealtb- 
ful, besides that of destroying what should be 
the effect of its length. I like to see it flowing 
down the back either straight or in curls, but if 
this is impracticable, I prefer to see It cut. rather 
than habitually colled up in a distasteful knot 
to get it out oi the way. I have similar ideas 
in regard to the beard, but I do not mean that I 
like, in any case, to see mauly beauty mutilated 
with a razor! Faith Wayne. 
Bnirc, Ot leans Co., N. \ T ., 1S61. 
AT THE DOOR. 
“Who is it knocks this stormy night? 
Be very careful or the light!” 
The good man said to his wife, 
And the good wife went, to the door 
Bat never egaln in all his life 
Will the good man sec her more. 
For he who knocked that night was death, 
Autl the light went out. with a little breath— 
And the good man w ifi miss hlB wife, 
Till he, too, goes to the door— 
When Death will carry him up to life, 
To behold her face once more. 
only more clearly defioed, it might throw light 
on the subject. There was, as a matter of 
course, sojne body to whom the term was first 
applied; 0 that we only knew who that some¬ 
body was! His memory deserves a monument; 
soap-stone should be its chief material! 
The ways and circumstances in which soft- 
soap is applied are many and various. Editors, 
good-natured bodies that they are. are so fre¬ 
quent recipients of such applications that it 
seems to me their lives must in consequence roll 
on as smoothly as they could wish! 
“ I send you the inclosed lines, Mr. Editor,” 
writes some ambitious scribbler and Byron, in 
prospedo, “hoping they will be inserted in 
your most valuable, and interesting paper.’’' 
Mr. Editor reads the “lines,” likewise the 
note iu which the soft-soap is .40 nicely done up 
in italics, knows it is soft-soap, yet rather likes 
the application; and the “lines” are inserted 
in his “ valuable paper!” 
We use softisoap for two reasons:—First, to 
please ourselves; second, to please others. In 
the using, however, tbe terms are apparently 
transposed, and the desire tc please others 
stands first. But it is only to please ourselves 
that this desire is manifested. I say this under 
the firm conviction that selfishness is the 
groundwork of human nature, and permeates 
clear through! Now I hope that no one, whose 
study of human nature may be greater or less 
than mine, and thus lead him to differ with me 
on this point, will take exception* to my con¬ 
viction as thus distinctly set forth. But if such 
an one should, I should immediately make my 
suming his stand, ho proceeded in his argu¬ 
ment without the least embarrassment. So 
extraordinary a step over the usual barrier 
which separates this Court and thc barristers, 
excited not a little astonishment aud admiration 
among the spectators, and it was afterwards aptly 
remarked by Judge Story, in relating the cir- 
eumstance to a friend, that ‘ he did not believe 
there was a man in the United States who could 
have done that but Henry Clay.’ ” 
— The following story is told of the Arch¬ 
bishop (Whatkly) of Dublin: 
“The archbishop had a great fondness for 
parables in conversation, which were often 
rather homely ones, and for experiments. One 
day at a great set dinner at thc lord lieutenant’s, 
a question arose, how loug a man could live with 
bis head under water. The archbishop quitted the 
room, and presently returned with a great basin 
full of water, which he set on the table and 
plunged his head in before the whole company. 
Having held it there an enormous length of 
time, he drew itout, crying, ’There! none of you 
could have kept your heads in so long, but I 
know the method of it.’ Another time, also, at 
a formal party or the Castle, he spoke of the 
great weight a man could support on the calf of 
his leg, bending it outwards. ‘If your Grace 
of Cashel,' said he, ‘ will stand upon miue, as I 
stretch it out, I can bear your weight without 
the Hlightcstdifficulty.’ But his Grace of Cashel 
would uot have done so odd a thing in that 
company for millions.” 
— Charles Dickens relates the following of 
complete; the former is wrought in us, the 
latter for us. Bely simply as a worthless sin¬ 
ner on the Saviour, and the latter is all your 
own, with its accompanying blessings of 
pardon, acceptance, adoption, and the non-im¬ 
putation of sin to your charge. Hence will 
flow thankful obedience, devotedness, of heart, 
patience in tribulation, aud quiet waiting for 
the glory of God. Thus salvation is by faith 
alone, aud thus saving faith works by love. 
Embrace these principles freely, fully, and im¬ 
partially, and you will enjoy a true scriptural 
peace, assurance, and joy.” 
--- 
LOVE. 
Would all Christians dwell on the virtues of 
their fellow Christians—would they talk of each 
other’s excellencies and amiable traits and throw 
the veil of Christian charity over each other's 
little faults, how much more love would there 
be among the followers of Christ! How much 
more enjoyment among Christians! And how 
much more success would attend Lhc.preacbing 
of thc truth ? The example of Christians would 
then convince thc world of the reality of reli¬ 
gion, aud the unanimous exclamation of the 
world would be:—“See how these Christians 
love.” Christians then would be one, and thc 
world would know them to be followers of 
Christ. Then let us love one another, and be 
more anxious to see iu each other something of 
the likeness of Christ, rather than notice aud 
talk of each other’s faults.— Observer. 
politest bow, and with my greatest suavity of Douglas Jerrold:—“ Of his generosity I had a 
Inalienable Bights.— Every woman has 
a right to be of any ago she pleases, for if she 
were to state her real age no one would believe 
her. Every one has a right to wear n mous¬ 
tache who can. Every woman who makes 
puddings has a perfect right to believe that she 
can make a better pudding than any other 
woman in the world. Every man who carves 
has a decided right to think of himself by put¬ 
ting a few of the best bits aside. Every woman 
has a right to think her child the prettiest little 
baby in the world; and it would be the greatest 
folly to deny her this right, for she would be 
sure to take it. Every young lady has a right 
to faint when she pleases, if her lover is by her 
side to catch her. 
manner reply: 
“My dear sir, your exception does you honor. 
You look at human nature from the stand-point 
of your own large heart, in which selfishness 
has Mover existed; but in you the exception 
only proves the general rule. There are doubt¬ 
less a few whole-souled natures who rejoice in 
the total abnegation of self, but, alas! so few 
are these (another polite bow to my exceptional 
friend,) that I must yet contend that my con¬ 
viction, as stated, is correct 1 ” 
Do you not sec how much better calculated to 
win him over, is this stroke of policy and soft- 
soap thau any amount of argumentation would 
be I Ahl softisoap for au argument) At any 
rate, let it precede the first proposition, ami 
blend its smoothness with the refutation! In 
proof within these two or three years, which 
it saddens me to think of now. There had been au 
estrangement between u»—not on any personal 
subject, and not involving anv angry words— 
and a good many months had passed without 
my even seeing him in the street, when it fell 
out that we dined each with his own separate 
party, in the Stranger’s Room, of the Club. 
Our chairs were almost back to back, aud 1 took 
mine after he was seated aud at dinner, (I am 
sorry to remember.) arid did not look that 
way. Before we had sat no long, he openly 
wheeled his chair round, stretched out both his 
hands in an engaging manner, and said aloud, 
with a bl ight and loving face, that I can see as 
I write to you;—‘Let us be friends again! A 
life's not long enough for this! 9 
The Bible the Key ok the Heart.—I f 
I had a lock of very complicated construction 
aud there w«o only ooe key that would unlock 
it, I should feel very sure that key was made 
by one w ho understood the construction of that 
lock. So when I rind that, notwithstanding all 
the windings and mysteries of iniquity in the 
human heart, the Bible, aud the Bible only, is 
adapted to it throughout, aud is able to penetrate 
its most secret recesses, I am constrained to be¬ 
lieve that the Bible was made by him who 
“alone knoweth the hearts ol' the children of 
men.”— W'W’sier. 
- - - • ♦ — — 
A smile may be bright while the heart is sad 
—the rainbow' is beautiful in the air while be¬ 
neath is the moaning of the sea. 
