|pitli ts JD.cpttraf»t. 
[Written for Moore's Kura] New-Yorker.] 
A FRAGMENT. 
Her work is done. 
Closed are those a/tiro orb- 1 tliat gleamed with light, 
Silent those lips that opened lint with smiles, 
And eold and motionless the folded hands 
Lie white and was life on the pnlselc-s breast,— 
Pulseless alike to note of joy or woe. 
Bring here the orange wreath to deck her brow, 
The bridal robes she thought to wear to-day. 
Alas! she heeds them not,—she is a bride. 
But ’tis the bride of Death. 
Roses wreathe her hair,—rose-buds nestle close 
Among the foldings of her snowy robe. 
They were her own,—trained by her gentle hand, 
She watched their op'nlng beauty with delight, 
And said she'd wear them on her bridal eve. 
Truly she wears them, but she knows it not. 
Alas! she wateheth th-ra no more, she's gone 
Where roses never fade,—where buds unfold, 
But only those immortal, changeless ones. 
That bloom in Paradise. 
January, 1801. A. M. P. 
SCOTCH ARGUMENT FOR MARRIAGE. 
Jk.vny is poor, and I am poor, 
Yet we will wed—so say no more! 
And should the bairuies to us come— 
As few that wed but do have some— 
No doubt that Heaven will stand our friend, 
And bread, as well as children, send, 
So fares the hen in farmer's yard; 
To live alone she linds it hard; 
I’ve known her weary every claw 
In search of corn among the straw; 
But when in quest of nicest food, 
She cluckH among her chirping brood; 
With joy we hps the self-same hen 
That scratched for one, could scratch for ten, 
These are the thoughts that make mo willing 
To take my girl without a shilling; 
And for the self same cause, you see, 
Jenny resolved to marry mo. 
[Written for Moore's Kura] New Yorker.J 
LIVE WITHIN YOUR INCOME. 
It is a lamentable fact that a great many people 
have not the tact to accomodate themselves to the 
various changes and circumstances of life. A par¬ 
ticular course will he so pertinaciously persevered in 
from year to year, with the consequences resulting 
therefrom meeting them at every turn, that it is 
impossible to account for it in a philosophical man¬ 
ner. 1 say impossible, as the old adage, “A burnt 
child dreads lire,” is not applicable in such cases. 
There arc two principal classes of persons to 
whom these remarks will apply; first, those who are 
independent., or in good circumstances at setting out 
in life,— and, second, those who are, over have been, 
and ever will remain, poor. Let ns take a not 
uncommon example of the first. He is a son of 
wealthy parents, has a fair education, and is well 
qualified for any ordinary business pursuit. As there 
is no necessity of his following any occupation while 
young, and he has plenty of money, he amuses him¬ 
self pretty much as he pleases. Having a good dis¬ 
position, and being clever, as it is termed, lie avoids 
most of the follies so common among young men in 
a similar situation. He marries a young lady, his 
equal in every respect with the exception of wealth, 
of which she has a moderate share. His father gives 
him a fine house, and at considerable expense estab¬ 
lishes him in business. The wife furnishes the house 
elegantly, and there would seem to he nothing to 
prevent their living in style, and making a fortune 
besides. 
Fifteen years pass by, and have these expectations 
been realized? Far from it. True, w'e find ajipear- 
mutex very little altered, and it is to lie wished, some¬ 
times, that appearances were not deceiving—that as 
we saw we saw truly,— but no matter. At first, ho 
pursued a particular branch of his business, and bad 
very bad luck. Afterward, lie entered into another 
kind of business in addition, and lost again; but 
that w T as something lie could neither foresee nor 
avert. He met with a great many losses, chiefly 
through accidents, which would have retarded any 
person, hut as an offset to this his father assisted him 
with considerable money at different times. A great 
many men, having no better business qualifications, 
with onc-thinl of the property with which he com¬ 
menced, would have been quite wealthy, while be 
has been constantly Involving himself, sinking lower 
and lower, and must at last touch bottom, unions bo 
determines to spend nothing before ho makes it, —in 
other words, lives within bis income. This is the 
great secret of the downfall of so many in similar 
situations. Not having boon brought np to earn 
money, it seems to possess no positive value so long 
as it can bo procured. No one can spend money 
with impunity and not suffer the consequences, and 
however desirable an article may be, it is far better, 
in most coses, to wait until you can purchase it, with¬ 
out creating a debt. 
Again. No matter in what business a person may 
be engaged, lie must oversee, make his calculations, 
and lay his plans to the best or bis ability, in order 
to succeed. This applies witli equal force to both 
parties conjugally related, and should never be over¬ 
looked. Inmost kinds of business it is uot best to 
attempt too much, but to do everything well,— 
advance surely and firmly, and not in one great 
stroke lose the whole. This is not applicable to the 
chms; the greater part retrograde gradually by indis¬ 
creetly indulging their fancy, and do uot see their 
error, or seeing, cannot deny themselves until over¬ 
taken by the inevitable consequences. 
flie second class are those who have always been 
poor, and here we would expect to find prudence and 
economical management the rule instead of the 
reverse, as people always restricted in their enjoy¬ 
ments and manner of living ought certainly to he 
frugal, and use what they have to the best advantage. 
But frequently this is not the ease. You may select 
two families, the one quite poor, the other in easy 
circumstances, and give each the same quantity of 
everything, and mark the result Oftentimes the 
family where we would expect it to last the longest, 
find their larder empty by the time the other had used 
two-thirds or less of their portion, and had not mean¬ 
while deprived themselves in the least. This some¬ 
times happens in families similarly situated, but as it 
is a pretty delicate question, I leave it with the ladies 
to answer. Of those first mentioned, every neighbor¬ 
hood furnishes examples, and often, when it is 
known what they have, and the length of time it 
lasts, it is a matter of wonder as to the manner in 
which it has disappeared. Of this we can judge only 
by what we have seen, or heard from a reliable 
source. In some rare cases, probably, when they 
have delicacies, all partake until no more remains. 
Others, and I fear they are pretty numerous, as long 
as they have it, live extravagantly, cooking much 
more at a time than the family requires, and what is 
left goes to the dog, or is thrown from the window. 
When all is gone they make a great complaint; can¬ 
not get a living by their labor, if making one dollar 
and a fifty cents or two dollars per day; very bad 
luck — everything goes wrong — somebody has 
cheated them—their doleful stories seem endless. 
Others still, not a whit more prudent, or at least but 
little more so, have the discretion to say little, and 
do the best they can at last through necessity. 
Nothing can be expected of people who are so 
improvident, when they could easily lay up twenty- 
five or fifty cents per day besides supporting their 
families. As they are, so will they generally remain. 
Those who are sometimes deprived of the neces¬ 
saries of life, and have few intellectual enjoyments, 
may perhaps require more than others, but why can 
they not learn to be prudent with what they do have. 
Giving relieves their necessities, but does not mend 
matters in the least. In some cases it. would seem to 
have been inherited, for as their fathers did, so do 
they and their children frequently, and never having 
been accustomed to a different state of things, they 
can neither see nor appreciate the advantages 
resulting from economy. Indeed, it appears to be 
natural to the class, so tliat any attempt to improve 
their condition would be nearly hopeless; but if the 
children could be reached and taught to be prudent 
and frugal, they would instruct their children like¬ 
wise, while thousands of families would be much 
more comfortably situated. But this cannot bo done 
except in isolated cases, unless through the medium 
of common schools, and there I fear it would he a 
difficult, matter. 
But to return. Without being parsimonious, we 
can use what we have prudently, and if we can lay 
up something after supplying our wants, we should 
do so,— not that wealth is the only thing desirable, 
hut it is certainly prudent to be prepared for any 
exigencies tliat may arise. It is far better for people 
to be increasing their gains over so little, than to lie 
losing in the same ratio, for then they will be 
deprived in after years of many of the comforts of 
life. Live within your income, if possible,— it can¬ 
not always be done,— and you will avoid a multi¬ 
plicity of cares. If in debt, you should endeavor to 
lessen it yearly after paying all other expenses. A 
large debt, however, is like a loadstone, which 
attracts nil the profits to itself, and should never be 
contracted without a full understanding of the matter 
and the firm conviction that you will be finally 
released therefrom. f. , 
South Oil boa, Schoharie Co., N. Y., 1861. 
mm 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
KEEP THE HEART BEAUTIFUL. 
BY GEO. A. HAMILTON. 
Make the world beautiful—rather bright things 
And plant them to day round your home, 
Then brilliants and gems, with fairy-like wings. 
Will glow round the path where you roam; 
Crow (lower* and shrubs, in bright diadems, 
Anri let them drink up the sweet dew. 
But. always remember, among the gay gems, 
The Heart must be Beautiful too. 
Now we welcome the beauties and glories of spring, 
And see the geeen sward on the lawn. 
And the birds for awhile have folded each wing, 
Rehearsing their songs at the dawn; 
The morning comes blooming with sweet, lovely flowers, 
And sunlight reflects the bright dew, 
Rut ever remember, through all the bright hours, 
The Heart should be Beautiful too. 
(io out very often, on errands of love,— 
Be kind to the lowly each day, 
Let, your kindness resemble the pure ones above, 
While life is fast basting away; 
Co search out the needy, and hid them rejoice, 
To charity always be true, 
Then conscience will whisper with plain, loving voice, 
The IJeart it is Beau til ul too. 
There is beauty in labor and pure honest toil, 
In fields of the rich goklen grain, 
For the promise of heaven lias honored the soil, 
And beauty with labor may reign; 
We’ll honor the Giver that made the world bright, 
And gave it each beautiful hue, 
And still humbly walking the pathway of fight, 
The Heart shall bo Beautiful too. 
We giise at the Beautiful worlds in the sky,— 
We think of thoir glories afar, 
And often a pathway attempt to descry, 
From earth to some little, bright star. 
Let us cherish their beauty and walk in their gleam,— 
Delight in the heaven-lent view, 
Thus cheerful and happy sail over life’s stream, 
And keep the Heart Beautiful too. 
So. Butler, N. Y., 1861. 
—♦—* ♦ ■ » 
[Written for Moore's Rina! New-Yorker.] 
CHOICE OF READING. 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
THREADS FROM THE WEB OF LIFE. 
N tl M B K K ONE. 
“ Where is the eye on that face could rest., 
Nor deem it not one of earth's loveliest? 
Thou hast a cheek where each feeling glows 
In a blush that, might, rival the woodland rose. 
Eyes like the star* of a summer even. 
And a brow that bearcth the seal of heaven; 
And a smile, whose brainy is hall divine, 
Hath its dwelling place on that )|p of thine. 
Cold is tlie heart it could not win, 
For it speaks of the goodness and peace within; 
And he tliou happy, the joy and pride 
Of the hearts that circle thine own fireside. 
Blest he thou, in thine own native bower. 
Sheltered and guarded, a precious flower; 
No blight, to wither, no storm to press 
To earth thy delicate loveliness ' 
So breathed the poet spirit of a heart in homage to 
one of those fair earth-angels, that here ami there are 
given to us as living visions, to teach onr souls how 
beautiful are the unseen angels of heaven, with whom 
we may yet hold converse. It is no fair ideal that 
rises up in my mind, as my heart responds to the 
gifted [Kiel's song, hul a living original. One who 
shared my childhood spoils, - and received the 
homage of my childish heart,- One whose memory, 
though long years have passed, is yet cherished as 
one of the visions of beauty that are “a joy forever.” 
I remember hot as she stood in our midst a bride,— 
wooed from her native bower by one who hud girded 
on the Gospel Armor, and wits ready to go forth as 
an Ambassador of' Christ. Youth, beauty, grace, 
and talent were henceforth pledged to the work of 
love. 
Sineo that time our paths in life have been widely 
distant ; yet occasional letters, and brief meetings in 
the old homestead, at long intervals, or the still rarer 
joy of meetings in our own home nests, have kept 
bright the chains of affection woven in early years. 
She went forth into tlio world with the Oliristain’s 
faith and (rust, and with high and holy purposes took 
hold of life’s toils and duties. Beautiful has been her 
life, and many there are who have blessed her as an 
angel of love and goodness. The brightest ornament 
of the circle in which she moves, the light of her 
liorae, the pride of her husband's heart, and the Joy 
of many friends, she fills a place of high trust; while 
her rare grace, matured beauty, and winning love, 
have made her the idol of many youthful hearts, that bettor, aml strive harder to practice its precepts and 
look up to her as their good angel. Beautiful, Obey its commands. 
indeed, seems the radiance of light, love, and joy 
which surrounds her. Well is it for society, when 
such power of beauty and influence is thus molded by 
Christa ill principle, and laid a Cheerful offering at 
the feet of Oon. 
1 remember her, too, when the dark shadow of 
death rested over her home, and a sweet hud of 
promise was torn from her bosom — a lily planted by 
the river of life. When the shadows grew darker till 
she was made to drink of the bitterest cup of sorrow, 
wo saw that stately form bowed even to the dust, and 
the pule brow and dim eye told our aching hearts 
that the light and joy of life were well nigh quenched. 
Yet, through all the spirit failed not. With meek J 
But “ our choice of reading” is not confined to hooks. 
Wo have papers,— monthly, semi-monthly, weekly, 
semi-weekly, tri-weekly, and daily,— some of which 
do or should find their way regularly into every house¬ 
hold. And what a “ choice of reading ” does one good 
family paper present. Father is a politician, — what 
sensible man is not in these times,— and of course 
reads with eagerness everything connected with poli¬ 
tics, while grandfather nods in token of satisfaction, 
until lie nods himself to sleep. Lizzie stands ready 
for the paper, very likely with her sleeves rolled above 
her elbow, and her dishes still unwashed; hut she lias 
waited, according to her account, a marvelous long 
time, and she must finish that story, no matter who or 
and loving heart she kissed the rod, and accepted it what u is about, providing it is only a good story. 
as the discipline of life, appointed by a Father's hand. 
And when she turned anew to her duties, T doubt not 
it was with gentler and truer sympathies, and a higher 
purpose of the chastened spirit sanctified to yet purer 
aims. 
How strangely the web of life woven in lights 
and shadows, by the golden and silver threads, min¬ 
gled with the iron and steel! Yet shall the whole he 
a finished work of beauty when unfolded in the light 
of Eternal Love, Mrs. F. A. Dick. 
Buffalo, N. V.. 1861. 
Love of the Beautiful. —There are many persons 
in this world who would scout the idea that there is 
any necessity or any use for people who are not rich, 
to make any provision for their ideal life,—for their 
taste for the beautiful. We can picture to ourselves 
some utilitarian old hunks, sharp-nosed, shriveled- 
faced, with contracted brow, narrow intellect, and no 
feeling or taste at all, who would he ready (so far as 
lie was able) to ridicule our assertion, that it is desira¬ 
ble and possible to provide something to gratify taste 
and to elevate and refine feeling, in the aspect and 
arrangement of even the humblest human dwellings.— 
Fraser's Magazine. 
Susie reads and re-reads the Foctrv, until each geinmy 
thought is safely stored in Memory's garner. Jimmy 
studies, and deeply, too, the long columns of adver¬ 
tisements. He gleans therefrom more general news 
and intelligence, a more correct view of the want* 
and wishes of mankind, their hopes and fears, 
their cunning and duplicity, than can anywhere 
else he found. Aunt Dkuby, whom we all love, 
though she is an “old maid” with a few stray 
wrinkles on her brow, and an occasional thread 
of silver woven with her glossy hair, lays down her 
knitting, and looks carefully through the Deaths and 
Marriages, and though she may sometimes drop one 
‘•pearly tear” to tin- memory of the departed, she 
envies not the happiness of the living. Now that the 
chores are done, Henry, the “ boy of all work,” is 
ready for the paper, and industrious, economical, and 
calculating fanner that he is, hitelus his chair a little 
nearer the district selioolma’am, and by the light of 
the same tallow candle reads aloud the lengthy mar¬ 
kets reports to her listening (?) e.-.r, speculating as 
he proceeds upon his “apple crop, he it less or 
more,” or the average size and weight of his beef 
cattle, and what they will bring, hums, hide, hoofs, 
and all. Next, n»jtber, patient and self-denying to 
the last, wipes her spectacles, and turning to the 
Domestic Column, examines its various recipes for 
cakes, puddings, pickles, and pies, and we have posi¬ 
tive proof that she understands and practices what 
she reads. And Johnny, who has climbed into her 
lap, begs her to read about “the little boy blue, that 
blew his horn,” or that famous pie made of “four- 
and-twenty blackbirds,” and perhaps stowed away in 
the Children’s Corner she finds some little story 
suited to his childish capacity, which is read and 
indelibly Impressed upon his mind. 
Thus all, from the gray-haired man to the lisping 
child, have their “choice of reading;” and he that 
choice a good, had, nr indifferent one, it tells upon 
their character. A man is known by the hooks he 
reads, no less than by the company lie keeps. As the 
reading of light, trifling sentimentalism weakens our 
faculties, debases oar morals, and engenders false 
views of all the relations of life, so that of a pure, sound 
morality, cannot but he felt on the heart, and seen in 
the daily “walk and conversation ” of the reader. 
Let us see to it, then, that our “choice of reading” 
be such as will not only entertain and amuse us, but 
make us wiser and nobler men and women, better 
prepared to “act well our part” in life, to hear well 
the burdens which an All-Wise Providence places 
upon our shoulders, and at last more worthy of a 
place in the “many mansions” of our “Father’s 
House.” Omega. 
Columbus, Pa., 1861. 
--*- 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
TIMES THAT WERE. 
“Times aint now as they used to he,” is a trite 
maxim. You may croak all you please about the 
degeneracy of old times, and say that we of this 
generation act just as well as they did when onr 
fathers were young,— it is not so. I don’t believe 
one word of it. Young America is coming in on a 
fast trot, and “Poor Richard’s” maxims are going 
out on a keen gallop. 
In former times we were taught tliat “honesty is 
the best policy.” Now money is the only policy. If 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
THE BLESSED OF GOD. 
BY MINNIE MIXTWOOD. 
Blessed arc their that dwell in Thy house; they will be 
still praising Thee.—Psalms 84: 4. 
Tuixe house above! 
Dear Lord, how more than blest are they 
Whose weary feet have found the way, 
And share Thy love. 
Their toils are o’er. 
The weary eye* will no more weep, 
Angela for them their vigils keep 
On Heav'n's bright shore. 
“ Still praising Thee.” 
Within Thine house, “not made with hands,” 
I see the white rob'd angel bands,— 
Thy minstrelsy. 
Father of Love, 
An erring child yearns to be blest, 
Within Thine house to be at rest, 
No more to rove. 
I’m weary grown! 
List! hear I not the boatman’s oar, 
The plash of waves, a* he nears th’ shore 
To bear mo home? 
God, Heaven, and Home, 
Fain would I chant the hnav'nly lays, 
And sing with tli’ angel bands who praise 
Thee round ’l'hy Throne! 
Alfred University, 1861. 
[Written for Moore's Rnral New-Yorker.] 
SABBATH MUSINGS. 
Were gome kind, benevolent parent, who had the 
well-being of his posterity at heart, to take down the 
history of his son, and from the earliest period of his 
existence, carefully and truthfully to note every act, 
deed, and, if possible, every thought, of the little 
mortal, and continue the history up to his manhood 
“Of making many hooks there is no.end,” was 
long ago written, and needs no confirmation in this 
day of letters, and of steam. Our numerous authors, 
aided by onr active publishing houses, are sending 
forth a constant and never-failing supply, which 
crowds our bookstores and scatters reading matter 
throughout the world. Go where we will within the 
bounds of civilization, we find hooks in greater or 
less abundance. They travel with us by land or sea, 
sit by onr side in the school room, and greet our 
sight, like the faces of old familiar friends, in the 
library and lecture room. They lie “bound in velvet 
and edged with gold ” upon the rich man's table, and 
though, perhaps, old and worn, are highly prized and 
carefully treasured in the abode of poverty, for desti¬ 
tute indeed must he tliat home which cannot boast 
possession of even a few well-chosen volumes. 
From this mass of reading matter, we are free to 
make our own selections,—our own “choice of read¬ 
ing” -and perhaps nothing more plainly shows the 
great diversity of taste mni^aleiit among men than 
this. One delights in Miog-iphy,— in studying the 
lives and characters of earth’s mighty and great, 
whether patriot or warrior, statesman or philanthro¬ 
pist,— another draws his chair before the blazing 
lire, and whiles long hours away in the easy rhyme 
and smooth flowing verse of ancient and modern 
Poetry. Some revel in History and world-wide 
Travel, others in Philosophy and its kindred branches, 
and others still find pleasure alone in the Comic and 
Humorous, enjoying many a hearty laugh and conse¬ 
quent side ache over “the Widow Brcnorr Papers,” 
or “Mrs, Partington's Carpet Bag of Fun.” Many 
there are who make their “choice of reading” a 
means of moral and intellectual growth, For them 
the purity of truth and certainness of fact possess 
unnumbered charms. But the great majority passing 
by the true and useful, the pure and good, lengthen 
the day and prolong the night, waste their energy 
and injure their health, by the perusal of what is 
generally denominated “yellow covered literature,”— 
the fictitious productions of weak and sickly imagina¬ 
tions. 
Onr choice of reading is, in a greater or less degree, 
modified by the influences surrounding us. and the 
circumstances and situations in which we arc placed. 
Thus the farmer will be interested in whatever per¬ 
tains to Agriculture. Teachers and Students in the 
various editions of School Books, Physicians.in Medi¬ 
cal Works and Treatises, the Divine in the. study of 
Theology, mid the Christian in his Bible. And, by 
the way, it would he well, did we all make this 
“Book of Books” our “choice of reading,” love it 
you can get it honestly, do so,—if not, get it any nay and mature age, and then present to him this curious 
you ran, for it is an article that must be had in spite history,- and, without giving him any intimation 
of everything else. In the “used-to-be times” the whose life it portrayed, tell him carefully to study it, 
young were particularly cautioned to ho industrious the first few pages would perhaps he read with a 
ami frugal, in order to lay up something for a rainy smile of credulity, as to whether it were not a fable; 
day. Now the motto la, spend just as first as you can and, perhaps, in contempt, he would throw it away, 
get, and if you don’t get fast enough, spend before as not worthy his perusal, tin reading a little further, 
you get it. Once the brains were thought to have a however, he would meet with the account of some 
place in the head; now it is conceded tliat they lay in circumstance which would remind hirn that sonie- 
tho pocket those who carry the heaviest purse hav- thing similar had once happened to himself. A little 
ing the most brains, of course. I can remember more attention would he given to the subject, and on 
when merit was talked of. II persona were worthy, reading to the end, he would be compelled to believe 
1 cni.llc.l to respccl, whatever tlwir station,- -„ay. he would knOw that the whole history was 
now, though a man may be as mean as mean can be, true to the letter; and, although he was at first scep- 
il lie Is rich, nobody, dare speak a word, he is a good tical, he would he forced to believe that what he had 
fellow. 1'ormcrly children were taught to “obey considered too silly—too ridiculous even to read, was 
their parents In all things.” If any were stubborn hut “ loo true." Now, suppose, on being first intro- 
then, “ spare the rod aud spoil the child;” now children dneed to this strange book, he were told to begin to 
are governed only by the “law of love,” and what Is read at the last page of the history. He would not 
the effect? Simply this, parents are obliged to obey read half the page before exclaiming, “This is my 
their children in all tilings, or run the risk of being own history!” and turning hack, page after page, not 
tured out of doors. Instead of the graceful how and one doubt would enter his mind as to the truth of the 
curtesy, when the old gentleman or lady passes by, it whole story. 
is “get out of the road, old man; il you tumble down, Thus, man now, in this “age of progress and re- 
tliat is your own look out. > oung America never form,” is told to read and study the Bible—the only 
will grow old; it isn’t paying business. Book which the God of Nature lias ever given as a 
Does any one stick up their nose and say this is key to His whole work. The world's Philosopher 
simply a harangue with no meaning to it,—things begins to read the first chapter of Genesis, which 
aro just the same they have been ever since the world means “Creation” or “Beginning,” and before he 
stood? Look about you, my good sir, and if you reads three chapters, he throws the book away in 
have one grain of “common sense ” iu your head, you 
will see proofs of what 1 have said]every day you live. 
This is a fast age — and all we can do is to secede. 
January. 1861. Psi. 
- 4 ■ ♦ ■ >- 
THE HUMAN EYE. 
The eyes of men converse as much as their 
contempt, and declares that there is “no reason” in 
it. (For men have discovered, and have made the 
• acquaintance of a bright celestial creature, which has 
been sent to minister unto them, whose name is Rea¬ 
son, and they now, like their ancestors, have lost 
sight of the Creator, and worship the Creature.) 
But let the intelligent, honest reader, turn to that 
page of the Great Book which gives the history of 
tongues, with the advantage that the ocular dialect the “last lime,”—that is, the Christian Dispensation, 
needs no dictionary, hut is understood all the world which is the last, because it shall endure “till time 
over. When the eyes say one thing, and the tongue shall he no longer.” Let him read the testimonies 
another, a practiced man relies on the language of given by St. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, and 
the first. If the man is oil his centre, the eyes show there learn what to believe, and to what end. (John 
it. You can read in the eyes of your companion 20: SO, 31.) Then read the ‘ Acts of the Apostles,” 
whether your argument hits him, though his tongue there to learn what to do, in order to become a sub¬ 
will not confess it. There is a look by which a man joct of the King of Kings,—the Prince of Peace,- 
shows he is going to say a good thing, and a look 
when he has said it. Vain and forgotten are all the 
line offers and offices of hospitality, if there is no 
holiday in the eye. How many furtive inclinations 
are avowed by the eye though dissembled by the lips! 
One comes away from a company, in which, it may 
easily happen, he has said nothing, and no important 
the Author of Life and Immortality; and then read 
the next twenty-one Epistles, to tell him how to con¬ 
duct himself towards all beings in the Universe. 
Let the doubter ask himself:—Did not Christians 
meet last Lord’s Day, in honor and in memory of 
JKsrs CHRIST? Did they not meet in His name the 
Lord’s Day before last? And so hack, did not Cliris- 
remark has been addressed to him, and yet, if in tj Christians, meet every Lord's Day, at 
_...,„*L ...tal * 1 .- ..... .vi.. 1 l.li x 1. * J *' 
sympathy with the society, he shall not have a sense 
of this fact, such a stream of life has been flowing 
Into him, and out from him, through the eyes. 
There are eyes, to he sure, that give no more admis¬ 
sion into the man than blue-berries. Others are 
liquid and deep — wells that a man might fall into — 
others are aggressive and devouring, seem to call out 
the police, take all too much notice, and require 
crowded Broadways, and the security of millions, to 
protect individuals against them. The military eye 1 
meet, now darkly sparkling under clerical, now 
under rustic bowers. ’Tis the city of Lueoda-mon; 
’tis a stack of bayonets. There are asking eyes, 
asserting eyes, prowling eyes, and eyes full of fate,— 
some of good, some of sinister omen. The alleged 
some place, for the same purpose, during the last 
eighteen centuries? And if he is still skeptical with 
regard to the authenticity of all the facts recorded in 
the Bible, he would, with equal propriety, doubt that 
the Declaration of American Independence was 
signed by many patriots oil the 4th day of July, 1776. 
But the honest inquirer, who thus pursues this 
most important study, with a desire to learn, and a 
trill to obey, whether he he Sage or Philosopher, or 
whether lie he unlearned, in the world's acceptation 
of the term, will know, of Iris own experience, that 
the testimony is true. (John 4: 42, ib. 7: 17, ib. 13: 
35.) 
If men would study the Bible as diligently, for the 
purpose of eliciting the truth of the facts therein 
power to charm down insanity, or ferocity in boosts, stated, as they do for the purpose of finding fault 
is a power behind the eye. It must be a victory wjth ^ and - pickingflaws” in its morals, its history 
achieved in the will, before it can he signified in the and it , prophecies, it is doubtful whether even one 
Fa/jih Waldo Emerson. honest man could he fouud to doubt its Divine 
+ -*- origin. The Hon. Ho a me Je.ny.ns, a great English 
The Old Yeah. —The almanac for the year died statesman, was once a skeptic, and had determined to 
without a groan. He seemed as vigorous only the write a book against the Bible. In examining the 
day before as the first day of iris life, and held his Bible for the purpose of exposing its absurdities, he 
own to the last moment. Were it not that another was convinced of its truth, and then he wrote a hook 
child of the same family, hearing the same general 
features, and apparently of the same temper, is ready 
lo take his place, we should he inconsolable. For 
no other friend have we to whom we can go for 
advice as we could to him. lie spoke mostly in 
on the “ Internal EvIdences of the Christian Religion,” 
which shows the folly of skepticism in a masterly 
style. 
I have seen unlearned meu look through a telescope 
from the wrong end, and declare that it did not aid 
figures. His knowledge in various tilings was not their eye a hit, while by a little instruction, as to its 
small, ami was exceedingly practical. He held con- use, they were enabled to see distant objects very 
verse with the stars, and seemed to know what was clearly. Many men look into the Bible at the wrong 
going on among all the planets. He was fond of end, or from a wrong motive, and then it is only a 
looking alter the tides; he kept a calendar of various stumbling block to them. The work most necessary 
events and days. We seldom took in hand an im- for mortals to do is defined in the Gospel, (John G: 
portent matter without consulting him, and never 27 to 29,) and this work is made much easier by 
found his judgment of events wroug. Nothing taking Paul's advice to his pupil Timothy, viz,:—to 
pleased him more than on some winter night to be “study,” and to make the studyuioreeasyandefiee- 
drawn forth and held before the glowing fire, and he tual, by “Rightly dividing the word of Truth.” 
persuaded into spiritual converse. — 11. IU. Beecher. (I Tim., 2: 15.) “T believe, I know, and am sure,” 
-■--4-.-*- • -- says the genuine Christian, “that Jesus is the Mes- 
A Reproof to Ultra-Puritanism.— I am not of ' *iah, the Son of the Living God, the Savior of Men.” 
opinion that all the arts are to be rooted out by the 
Gospel, as some ultra-divines pretend; but would wish 
to see all the arts employed, and music particularly, 
in the service of Him who has given and created 
them.— Luther. 
IVilliaiiisville, N. Y., 1861. T. W. 
By the removal of prized and cherished earthly 
props and refuges, God would unfold more of hi3 
own tenderness. 
