“HIS HAND’UPON THE LATCH.” 
A YOUNG WIFJi'8 BONG. 
My cottage borne i* fill’d with light 
The loDg, long summer day. 
But, ah! I dearer love the night, 
And hail the waking ray. 
For eve reetores we one whose smile 
Both more than morning a match,— 
And life fllresh seems dawning while 
Ilia hand 1* on the latch! 
When autumn B"Us are thick with sheaves, 
And shadows earlier fall, 
And grapes grow purple ’neath the eaves 
Along our trellis wall,-— 
I dreaming sit,—the sleepy bird 
Faint twittering in the thatch,— 
To wnke to joy when soft is heard 
His hand upon the latch! 
In the short winter afternoon 
I throw my work aside, 
And through the lattice, whilst the moon 
Shines mistily and wide, 
On the dim upland paths I peer 
In vain his form to catch— 
I startle with delight, and hear 
His band upon the latch! 
Yes; I am his in storm and shine, 
For me he toils all day; 
And hi* true heart I know is mine, 
Both near me and away. 
And w'hcn he leaves our garden gate 
At morn, hi* steps I watch— 
Thou patiently till eve await 
His hand upon the latch! 
THE DRESS QUESTION. 
Philosophy, Hygiene, Beauty, &c. 
In the Rural, for .Tub. 6tli, T find tin article oti 
“Dress,” by Linda Bknnktt, and in closing your 
remarks you pass tho subject over to the “ladies,” 
saying, “you will be glad to have them discuss its 
influence upon their sex, in a philosophical and 
hygienic point of view. With your permission, J will 
endeavor to say something upon the subject, and 
perhaps the “ spirit will move ” some one more com¬ 
petent to do it justice. 
But first, a word in reply to some of Linda’s 
remarks. She says, “Where are the sensible people 
you speak of? Are there any who do not make 
obeisance to keeping up appearances, especially in 
dress? A few prodigies of excellence and economy 
may exist,” Ac, Battier humiliating, is it not, Linda, 
this confession of yours; but it’s true, too true, for the 
health, life and happiness of mankind,—aye, and 
womankind also, — that there are hut a few who 
follow nature nud common sense in the matter of 
dress. Whether “newspaperdom” is the place to 
discuss the subject, or not, sister Linda, instead of 
trying to defend what you evidently acknowledge 
wrong, would not your powers of mind and heart ho 
better employed in trying to convince your sex that 
their precious time could be better spent than in 
adorning the body merely to “keep np appearances,” 
or to please the other sex; -to look this matter of 
dress fair in the face, and let reason and common 
sense guide, instead of Fashion? 
The “American ladies are in advance of those on 
the other side of the 1 big pond,’ are they? Tf quan¬ 
tity and going to extremes is to decide, they are; hut 
it’s an advance backward, and nothing to be proud of, 
I opine, and Is carrying them far behind tbo age. 
But “ newspaperdom is not, the path to this field 
of reform.” Why not in this as well as in other 
reforms? Is not “ newspaperdom ” the most power¬ 
ful engine for good or evil? “Newspaperdom " has 
done more than any one thing to make woman the 
slave of fashion and folly. Then why not undo what it 
has done in the same way? IIow long is it since the 
proprietor of one of our most popular ladies’ maga¬ 
zines w T as lamenting over this state of folly in society, 
that he, as much if not more than any oue else, has 
been the means of producing; calling on the wealthy 
and influential to come to the rescue and stop the 
tide of sin and folly? "Tis the sanction given to 
fashion, no matter how unhealthy, unbecoming, or 
ridiculous, in such magazines, that has hound woman 
to this Juggernaut of civilization, destroying thou¬ 
sands on thousands of the mothers and children of 
Christendom. And still woman yields to tho inhuman 
and unrighteous demand, sacrificing body and soul 
to “ keep up appearances. 4 * Tf, perchance, a man in 
the “fullness of his heart” speaks out against this 
evil, like the editor of the Rural, for instance, and 
one of the “ dear little creatures ” conics to the 
defence with “true feminine grit,” he at once yields 
the ground, though knowing that lie is in the right, 
and hands the subject over to the Indies. He does 
not “consider himself competent to judge in this 
matter,” though common sense is only heeded to 
form judgment, and takes for bis motto, “Never 
don’t do nothin’ which it isn’t your fort.” 
“Nothing is more capricious than taste.” What 
is taste? “That faculty of discerning beauty, order, 
congrnity, proportion, symmetry, or whatever con¬ 
stitutes excellence.” (Webster.) Is Taste capricious, 
or is it Fashion? Is not true Taste the same in all 
ages? Is not that which was really tasteful, beau¬ 
tiful, or appropriate, fifty years ago, the same to-day? 
Are not the works of tin- ancient artists, their sculp¬ 
ture and painting, ns beautiful to-day as when given 
to the world? Ho we not judge then by the same 
rules, uow as then? Let us calmly reflect and see 
whether Fashion or Taste is at fault in this. “But 
where docs the fault originate?” With man? Not 
all. Man is much to blame fur this folly of dress, and 
he is not wholly innocent from bowing the knee to 
the tyrant; but this does not prove that both are not 
in the wrong. If man solicits tho company of that 
“little butterfly of a coquette ” at the "ball,” and 
the “springs," is it there he seeks a life companion? 
Does the man who wishes his home to be the oue 
spot on earth attractive and beautiful above all 
others, — where he can have rest and repose from 
the toils, strifes and turmoils of life, — a Leaven, 
where all the highest ami holiest affections of the 
heart may be planted, and nourished, and grow, and 
blossom, in an atmosphere of purity and love,— 
raising him higher and higher in the scale of exist¬ 
ence, moral, intellectual und social, — does such a 
man choose the “ little butterfly of fashion ” made 
“ radiantly beautiful by silks and laces ” to share his 
love, his heart, his home?' If lie does, he soon finds 
that he has made a mistake which time will render 
more and more apparent to the end of life. 
But there is a priitcipte, a rule, at the bottom of this 
subject of dress, by which we can arrive at a true 
standard of beauty, and to this foundation we must 
come for a true solution of the problem. For what 
purpose is dress? For protection, for comfort, for 
ornament. In a word, for use and beauty. First, 
utility, then beauty. We must not sacrifice the useful 
to the beautiful. Can a thing he beautiful that does 
not possess adaptation and fitness for what it was 
designed? Docs the dress worn by civilized women 
answer to these? No. No one will, I am sure, say 
that a woman “ fashionably dressed ” is comfortably 
clad, or that she is sufficiently protected from the 
cold winds of winter, notwithstanding she may have 
double the amount around her necessary for that 
purpose, if properly disposed and fitted; and in 
summer, they are “roasted alive” in their endeavor 
to “keep up appearances; thus, unnecessarily ex¬ 
pending the vitality of the system in carrying the 
extra “ load.” It is not comfortable, for it does not 
give ease and freedom of motion. She cannot work 
or walk with ease or comfort. 
Is it healthful? Let us see. To the healthful 
action of the human organism, every organ and, 
muscle must perform its functions with perfect ease 
and freedom, without obstruction of any kind. The 
blood must circulate through every part, carrying 
life and nourishment to every organ, muscle, tissue, 
and nerve. Do the corsets and whalebones, as now 
worn, leave every organ free to act in a healthful 
manner, and the blood to flow unobstructed on its 
life giving mission? Let the heart and lungs, con¬ 
fined within half the space designed, the viscera 
crowded from its natural position, weakened mus¬ 
cles, and blood forced in unnatural quantities to 
particular organs, speak, and echoed by pains in the 
side, head, and the untold misery that woman suffers 
for the sake of “keeping up appearances.” Let 
these all speak with their thousand tongues, and who 
would heed them? Not they whose “silksand laces” 
are the price paid to the inventors of these infernal 
machines of torture,—ever inventing something new 
and more destructive to health, happiness and life. 
Is it beautiful? No. “A thing of beauty is a joy 
forever.” Beauty is something that does not, change 
its shape or color with every new moon. A painting 
that was beautiful a thousand years ago, would he 
to-day, and will be a thousand years hence, if canvass 
and colors arc unchanged. How does the huge bon¬ 
nets of twenty years ago compare with that “little 
love of a bonnet” worn last year; and the narrow 
skirts of years agone, with the ample folds expanded 
with crinoline. Both were “beautiful” in their day, 
and "just the thing” to “set off” and highten 
woman's cliarmB, and gain the admiration of men. 
If the narrow skirts, “mutton-leg” sleeves, and large 
bonnets were beautiful then, they are still , for beauty 
is tin changeable. 
But I have written more than I intended, and will 
leave the subject for others more competent, and 
who may think that “newspaperdom ” is one of the 
paths leading to this much needed reform. 
Whitney’* Point, Broome Co., K Y., 1861. Clara. 
(Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
INVOCATION. 
Hints for “Creation’* Lords.” 
A Beautiful Wardrobe. 
Mr. Editor, as yon open these little missives, 
and the small word dress meets your vision, I pre¬ 
sume you are ready to exclaim, how provoking! 
But as I happen to he a member of a certain family 
which are denominated human, and thinking I had 
as good a right as either of my sisters, I send a few 
lines, expressive of my thoughts, lor your paper, 
providing you caw Call in requisition a sufficient 
amount of patience to print any more words about 
what we women should w?Ur. * 
Now, I believe in dressing, ated well dressing, too. 
Every woman, no matter hotr Tittle she possesses of 
this world’s goods, can ami should array herself in 
rich and becoming apparel. She chotiid wear a 
"clean conscience and a pure heart,” two articles of 
clothing which are, in my estimation, rcrV appro¬ 
priate for all occasions. Beside these, I wduld 
recommend, for morning, a robe, the ground df 
which should be economy, striped with neatnew, 
ami the pretty little vine dispatch, elaborately trim i 
rned with housework. For an afternoou dress, I 
would have a combination of cheerfulness, kindness, 
sweet temper, and needle work. No ornaments. 
Evening toilet should be composed of a thankful, 
contented spirit, a set. flower of humility, embroid¬ 
ered with knitting and reading. Materials for visit¬ 
ing and party costume,—sobriety, truthfulness. One 
part, which "is usually woven in, I would certainly 
leave out, and that is the black threads of slander. 
Jewelry, a broad necklace of getiuine modesty. 
When we women (ibe epithet lady seems to me"a 
tame substitute for woman,) are thus clad, I think we 
shall hear less about pleasing the other sex. Thev 
KL n ....__ At__ __:__At_ mi_ a •__ 
Bright skip*, with chastened radiance beaming o’er us, 
Glad tones of laughter in the woodland bowers, 
Winds gently sighing thrnngh the trees around us, 
And humming honey bees amid the flowers, 
Tel! ns that Spring is here. 
We hail each beauty as a truthful nyinbol 
Of the pure happiness in us that, dwells; 
Know that the loveliness of earth is mirrored 
In every thrilling wave of joy that swells 
Our hearts with holy cheer. 
Father of Life! we thank Thee that Thy bounty 
Hath scattered blessings thus around our way; 
Thank Thee that Winter’s clouds, and nighx, and tempest, 
Were but the cradle of the coming May— 
May garlanded and bright. 
Father, we thank Tbee that this glorious sunlight. 
The myriad blessings which thv love doth give, 
Have fallen on us in youth, and hope, and gladness; 
Father in Heaven I we thank Thee that we live; 
Live in thy joyous light. 
Yet looking forward from our blissful present, 
Even now, the Future which we dimly see. 
nolds half formed sorrows—and in thoughtful moments 
We feel that this cannot forever bo; 
This happy time we sing. 
Summer shall come; with heat, and dust, and clamor— 
Come to our spirits in a world of strife; 
And August's sun shall shioo these flowers to wither, 
Which now bloom round us in the Spring of Life; 
Life's pure, joy-burdened Spring. 
Even now we sometimes hear the distant wailing 
Of the chill winds and rude, that, autumn days, 
Shall scatter to the ground the very blossoms 
For which to God now rise our songs of praise. 
Rendered with heartfelt joy. 
Know that to gayest heartutbere cometh a sadness— 
Know that no life but hath its Autumn time; 
And know that earth must prove to all its children 
Ever a changing, oft a tearful clime— 
Gold mingled with alloy. 
Father, go with us! That through all the clashing 
Of warlike spirits on Life's battle field, 
We grow not raging, selfish, wild, and cruel; 
Be Thou our helmet, and be Thou our shield, 
I Am, I Am, mighty to save! 
Guard us! that mid deceit, and crime, and error— 
’Mid all the fearful scenes which we may know— 
Wo fall not by the wayside faint and weary; 
Be Thou beside us wheresoe’er we go, 
Even thro’ Heath’s dark wave. 
In the Rural of Feb. ‘23d, and several preceding 
numbers, I have noticed articles on “Extravagance 
in Dress.” Many of the readers of the Rural have 
expressed their views on that subject, and as I am 
also a reader of the same worthy paper, I should 
like to add a few remarks to those already written. 
I fully concur with the sentiments of the writer in 
tho number of Fob. 23d, and most of the views 
expressed in the preceding letters; hut I think there 
is ranch more to he said about it, — another side o? 
the picture to bo looked at I am fully aware of the 
fact that daughters, and even wives and mothers, are 
foolishly spending tho hard earnings of their fathers 
and husbands in dress, — in fancifully arraying their 
own charming persons, when the money ought to 
have been spent in paying their creditors. I am 
sorry that such is tho fact. 1 am also sorry that 
while so much is expended in dress, that so little 
regard to health, that precious boon given us by our 
Creator, is observed. 
0! when will the females of our land learn to act 
wisely in this respect? When learn to dress accord¬ 
ing to their circumstances, and the circumstances by 
which they are surrounded? When arise and assert 
their freedom from that tyrant —Fashion? 
The other side of the picture is, —women are not 
the only ones guilty of this folly, although I do not 
remember having seen the names of the gentlemen 
connected with “extravagance in dress” in any of 
the letters I have mentioned. Are not the men guilty 
of tho same sin? If I can judge correctly by what J 
have seen, and read, and heard, I think over-dressing 
is not confined entirely to “ Ladies One cannot 
walk two squares in any of our larger villages 
or cities, without seeing gentlemen standing idly 
around, dressed in the finest style. Broadcloth, with 
a great amount of jewelry, adorns nearly every mas¬ 
culine yon meet; and every one knows that such 
dressing is as expensive ns the silks and laces which 
adorn the fairer sex. In many cases, were you to enter 
into conversation with these individuals, you would 
find they had taken much move cave of the body than 
braius. Their dress expenses are equal to those of tho 
ladies as a general thing, to say nothing about the 
money foolishly, even worse than foolishly, spent for 
intoxicating drinks and for tobacco in different forms. 
We are willing to take advice, and to bear reproof 
when deserved) but I, for one, do not like to MB my 
side of humanity, —the women, —bear all the cen¬ 
sure of extravagance, and of foolishly spending the 
earnings of their husbands and fathers, when they do 
a good share of the spending themselves. 
Brown’s Corners, Wood Co., O., 1881. A Woman. 
We own Thee now; we know Thy p re no nee round us— 
So may we know Thee in tho time to come; 
Through darkest clouds of sorrow and temptation 
May Thou be leading us to our blest home, 
Our promis'd home in Iieav’n. 
Keep us through life within Thine arms of mercy, 
Hopeful and trusting, loving, true, and pure; 
Enfold us with the mantle of Thy glory, 
And to Thy realm make onr election sure, 
Through Jicsus Christ forgiven. 
Hastings, N. Y., 1861. Rosklia. 
stock of reading matter, with the exception of news¬ 
papers and the bible, will not embrace twenty books, 
—and these of a light character, once read and of no 
further value. Such is the supply of mental food 
from the exhanstless intellectual stores of this age, 
which the parent affords his sous during the entire 
period that they are under the paternal roof! It is a 
shame, a gross injustice! Do you say “they have 
not much taste for reading?” No wonder; and if, by 
the time they are forty years of age, they are res¬ 
pected for their intelligence, it will never occur to 
them that they owe any debt of gratitude to their 
parents for their early advantages. Do yon say, “you 
can not afford to spend so much money for books?” 
That is the trouble! Your sons must make them¬ 
selves rich first, and make themselves men afterwards, 
—a grand and fatal mistake! Freferring rather that 
your sons shall acquire influence by riches,—which 
may moulder in their gra=p and leave them powerless 
in a world that ever detects ignorance, though it be 
glazed over by gold, and that gives it its deserts when 
that glitter is removed,—than by a high and developed 
manhood, which must be honored by success, which 
every vicissitude of life will only polish! Why shall 
not every farmer have a library? The ffind is full of 
books, and what would fifty or a hundred dollars he 
to him, laid out for such a purpose? Alas, that the 
enjoyment aud profit, easily understood, which would 
he derived from it, should he sacrificed for the sake 
of a few paltry dollars! Jt would he the greatest 
investment you ever made. Your family would, every 
succeeding year, bless you for it; it would increase in 
value at compound interest to each one of them, and 
eternity alone could reveal its productiveness. Buy 
a small library, and increase it a little every year. It 
will pay, A splendid beginning might, he made by 
taking a little extra care of the odds and ends even 
for one year. Take as many papers as you like. The 
wonderful circulation of this kind of literature in 
this land, is a glorious indication of the progress of 
our people; hut the newspaper can nor. supersede the 
need of hooks, those repositories of the world's wis¬ 
dom. If they do, a literary oligarchy must eventually 
ensue, in which the few will control the fountain¬ 
heads of knowledge, and the people will he reduced 
to a state of' mental serfdom, having their opinions 
moulded at will by their superiors. But there is not 
much danger of this taking place. However, if our 
people do not read too many papers, they, at any 
rate, do not read enough of hooks. The newspaper 
has made our people intelligent, and enterprising 
citizens, books must make them independent and 
productive thinkers. c. e. b. 
Rochester, N. Y., 1861. 
like us now,—they would prize ns then. That is my 
mind. Katy. 
Genoa, N. Y., 1861 . 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
ONE EBROK. 
— £ - 
The errors of the country are those of omission 
rather than of commission. They arise from this, 
viz: that in the absorbing occupation of developing 
material resources, a domain more etherial, hut which 
embraces within its limits interests that are of equal 
value for this world and extend into the next, is left 
too much uncultivated. They are those which result 
from thinking too much of the shining dollar, and too 
little of the undecaying Intellect; from valuing not 
necessarily too much the practical and useful, but 
from caring too little, perhaps, for that which will 
beautify and refine. 
“Knowledge is power,”—“mind is superior to 
matter,”—are adages, to the truth of which all classes 
of men, without exception, assent. The scholar, the 
controlling purpose of whose life is to acquire know¬ 
ledge,—is, perhaps, liable to dwell too much upon 
them, to the ueglect of present and substantial good. 
The farmer readily admits their value as general 
truths, but when he applies them to himself, his 
common sense, his ever-ready test,—at once sug¬ 
gests some limitatious to them. He looks over Iris 
rough acres, then upon his large household, and says 
that “ muscle is power” has more significance for 
him. He says that his knowledge is sufficient to 
enable him to satisfy his ambition,—which is to 
acquire a certain competency and prepare his children 
to commence life successfully,—and that tho former 
maxima have no practical interest to him, because 
his literary tasks are fixed; and among too large a 
portion of onr farming community, these desires of 
the mind are few and easily satisfied. Yet just here 
is committed a grave mistake. One of the teachings 
of the past few years, is that the educated farmer is 
the great demand of the country. But what parent, 
as be contemjdates Iris sons, can read their destiny; 
in this land where the highest positions of honor and 
trust, civil, professional and financial, are at this 
hour, held by men who have worked their way up 
from the lowest ranks of life? What right has he to 
deprive SI Coining generation of able and freely 
developed men, Iiy himself prest iibitig the eatfeer of 
his sons, essentially doing (bis by so starving their 
minds that they shall hate no Ambition to rise above 
the plodding ways Of their flheefltofs? 
The great error, then, all over this Mammon-loving 
country, is, that men become so intent ujfffftacquiring 
a fortune, every other attainable good sinks idfO'insig¬ 
nificance compared with it; themselves having no 
capacity for any particular mental enjoyment, their 
own minds having never been cultivated, the 
cravings of their own inner and higher nature 
making no demands, and feeling that the responsi¬ 
bility of enlightening aud refining society does not 
rest on them,—are, by a very natural process of rea¬ 
soning, attributing to their children tho same tastes 
and ambitions which they themselves possess. And 
they are thus bringing them np, providing their 
minds with only the same stale and heartless stuff 
which they themselves holt during a small portion of 
leisure time,—thus insuring to them a mental and 
moral leanness which will permanently disqualify 
them for high and noV.le positions in society. That 
the succeeding generation will be equally intelligent, 
equally fertile in mechanical and intellectual products, 
whether its living, yom»g representatives are supplied 
with all the advantages this age affords, or are care¬ 
lessly left to “ come npc’-^hke a young tree growing 
wild, its roots half-coVered It* branches unpruned, 
while beneath it is the richest soil and around it are 
plenty of laborers*,—no reasonable man needs to have 
demonstrated. 
Moreover, whefoce Comes not ewiy the bone and 
sinew' of this nation, bat its brain and intellect, if not 
from the country ? The great compMht which must 
be made against the farmers, is that they do not supply 
their sons and their families with readihg adequate, 
either in quantity or quality. It may he safely pre¬ 
sumed that among the majority of them; their entire 
CHARITY ITS OWN ANGEL. 
The truest charity Is its oum angel, the world over, 
and truth beautifully illustrated in the story of the 
“ Irish Schoolmaster.” He had t-akeu several lads for 
charity’s sake, had given them a scat by his fire and 
a share of his food, he bail taught them as the birds 
are taught to sing, “without price.” Jt. had lightened 
ills basket and diminished his store. One night lie 
had a dream; heaven was in sight, and he was striv¬ 
ing to attain it. lie laid piled, so he dreamed, all the 
good deeds lie could think of, end had Clambered up¬ 
on the summit, hut heaven was yet as far off to the 
poor schoolmaster as it was to Dives. He heaped up 
all his learning, and the alms he had given to the 
poor in the sight of the great congregation, and still 
the blessed place was beyond his reach. 
He was in despair, and all the while he had never 
bestowed a thought upon the poor boys he hud fed 
and taught. But just then; when Paradise was fad¬ 
ing from his sight, they eamo and they made a ladder 
for the old man, a ladder of hands and strong arms, 
and lie stepped from the shoulders of the last of them 
lightly and easily into Heaven. And such is the 
charity that blesses him that gives as well as him 
that takes. 
That eccentric physician who prescribed a new 
shawl for the complaining lady, and at once pro¬ 
nounced her convalesecnt, was something of a philos¬ 
opher. For hundreds of heart-sick people, the 
prescription might be varied with the happier results 
and read “an old shawl for a shivering sister.” 
There is no alchemy so potent to kindle the jewel 
of content, as a visit to those who arc less blest than 
we. Would you make the old faded carpet look 
bright as new? Enter the tenement whose floors are 
hare, and the stars shine through the roof. We count 
the blessings that arc- missing, but how rarely do W'C 
number those that we eujoy.— Chicago Journal. 
SELF-CONTROL. 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New Yorker.] 
THE PRAYER OF THE MOTHERLESS. 
BY J. 8BLL JENNINGS. 
Gon. Our Father! 
Who, from out Thy heavenly home, 
Careth for Thy children here; 
Oh, may I, an orphan, come 
To Thy throne without a fear? 
Mother’s tender care and love 
Now I only know through Thee; 
Then let angels from above 
Watch, and feed, and care for me. 
Savior, Brother! 
God, so good, so great, so wise, 
Teach me to adore Thy word; 
Bless and fit me for the skies, 
Make me pure, like Thee, oh, Lord. 
Let Tby love bear me on high. 
Far above all harm and sin; 
And when it is time to die, 
May tny life of joy begin. 
Orphans, Mother! 
Spirit, who so oft bath proved 
That the world clings to its own, 
Let Thy children here, unloved, 
Know that they are not alone; 
But that Thou, with ceaseless care, 
Will Thy chosen charges guide. 
Keep me safe and hear my prayer.— 
Father!-for Thy child provide. 
God,—O ne,—Infinite. 
Gracious, loving, pitying, just, 
Bless the orphan’s friends below, 
Save from evil thought and Inst 
Those whose hearts this mercy show; 
Bless poor pa, and make him Thine, 
Lead him home to Thee again; 
Keep u* in Thy fruitful vine, 
For the Savior’s sake! Amen 
New Castle, Pa., 1861. 
SURFACE RELIGION. 
Men use religion as ships do buoys and life pre¬ 
servers. They are not used for purposes of navi¬ 
gation, hnt just enough are kept on hand so that, in 
in case a storm comes up, and the vessel is ship¬ 
wrecked, those on board can stick them under their 
arms, and float to a safe harbor. And tuen mean to 
keep enough religion by them to bear them up in 
time of trouble. But I tell you, ymi will find air¬ 
holes in all such religious life-preservers. A man’s 
religion, to he worth anything, must be a religion that 
takes possession of him from head to foot. Nothing 
is religion that does not enter into a man’s thoughts 
and feelings, mid the arrangements of his life. That 
miserable varnish, that miserable whitewash, which 
men stick on the outside, and call religion; that chat¬ 
tering of prayers," and humming of religious airs; all 
face-religion; all religion of hours and days; all 
Snnday-keeping religion; all that so-called religion 
w hich is but an external covering of pride aud self¬ 
ishness, of worldliness aud vanity — it has the curse 
and wrath of God abiding upon it. Nowhere is 
there each a terrific invective against such religion 
as that which fell from the lips of Christ Jesus. It 
i* enough to make a man tremble, to give a man the 
chills and fever, to walk through those chapters in 
the Bible where Christ preached to hypocritical men. 
— Henry Ward Beecher. 
Crossing the Bridge Before Coming to It.—A t 
asocial religious Dieeting, a brother rose, and, among 
other things, stated the following incident of Bishop 
George; 
He and two other clergymen were traveling in 
company toward a bridge, which they would be re¬ 
quired to cross in their journey. The recent torrents 
of rain had swollen the brooks and streamlets leading 
into the main current, and before they reached the 
bridge, the companions of Bishop George expressed 
their apprehension that they would not he able to 
Cross. Ah their fear increased more and more, they 
appealed to the Bishop to get his opinion. “Breth¬ 
ren,” said he, “1 never cross a bridge until I get to it." 
Some persons are always journeying toward swollen 
streams, or damaged bridges. The clouds seem to 
fill their horizon, not behind them hut before them, 
and are always dark and threatening. They insist 
that either property, or health, or friends, will soon 
fail them. Alas! for them, the good things of this 
world were ordained for others, not for them. “Take 
no (evil) thought for the morrow.” “ Sufficient unto 
the day is the evil thereof.”— Selected. 
A mkrciiaxt in London had a dispute with a 
Quaker respecting the settlement of an account. 
The merchant was determined to bring the account 
into court, a proceeding which the Quaker earnestly 
deprecated, using every argument in his power to 
convince the merchant of his error: hut the latter 
was inflexible. Desirous to make a last effort, the 
Quaker called at his house one morning, and inquired 
of the servant if his master was at home. The mer¬ 
chant hearing the inquiry, and knowing the voice, 
called cot from the top of the stairs, “Tell that 
rascal T am not at home.” The Quaker, looking up 
to him, calmly said, “Well, friend, God put thee in 
a belter mind.’- The merchant, struck afterward 
with the meetffiesd Of the reply, and having more 
deliberately investigated the matter, became con¬ 
vinced that the Quaker was right, and that be was 
wrong. He requested to see him, and after fKriinoWl- 
edging his error, he said:—-“I have one questioil to 
ask you; how were you able, with such patience, on 
va/ftras occasions, to bear my abuse?” “Friend,” 
replied ibe Quaker, “ 1 will tell thee; I was naturally 
as hot and’violent as thou art. I knew that to indolge 
this temper was sinful, and I found it was imprudent. 
I found that men In a passion always spake loud; and j 
I thought if I controlled my voice I should repress | 
my passion. I lis'Ve therefore, made it a rule De ' er 
to let my voice rise above a certain key: and b> 6 
careful observation of fois rule, I have, by the bles¬ 
sing of God, entirely mastered my natural temper.” 
The Quaker reasoned philosophically, and the mer¬ 
chant, as every one else m3y do, benefitted by Ms 
example. 
We can never fathom another’?' sorrow — not one, 
even the keenest eyed and tenders hearted among 
us, car? ever be so familiar with the ins and outs of 
it as to be sure.always to minister to i.a piteous needs 
at the right time and in the right way. Watch as we 
may, we are continually more or less in the dark, 
often irritating where we would soothe, and Wound¬ 
ing where we would give our lires to heal. 
Prayer. — Prayer is the rustling of the wings of 
the angels that are on their way bringing us the 
boons of heaven. Have you heard prayer in your 
heart? You shall see the angel in yonr house. 
When the chariots that bring us blessingB do rumble, 
their wheels dp sound with prayer. We hear the 
prayer in our own spirits, and that prayer becomes 
the token of the coming blessings. Even as the 
cloud foreshadoweth rain, so prayer foreshadoweth 
the blessing; even as the green blade is the begin¬ 
ning of the harvest, so is prayer the prophecy of the 
blessing that is about to come. — Spurgeon. 
Happiness.— Among the philosophers there were 
two hundred and eighty opinions concerning happi¬ 
ness, some affirming happiness to lie in one thing, 
some in another; but by the Spirit and the Word 
we are taught that happiness lies in our oneness with 
God, in our nearness and dearness to God, Murk, 
the Scripture pronounces him happy whose hope iB 
in God, though he want assurance. “ Happy is he 
that hath the God of Jacob for his help, whose hope 
is in the Lord his God.”— Selected. 
A week tilled up with selfishness, and the Sabbath 
stuffed full of religious exercises, will make a good 
Pharisee, hut a poor Christian. There are many 
persons who think Sunday is a sponge with which to 
^ ipe out the sins of the week. Now, God’s altar 
stands Horn Sunday to Sunday, aud the seventh day 
i3 ncr more for religion than any other. It is for rest 
The Whole seven are for religion, and one of them for 
rest. __._ 
You haVA seen a ship out on the bay, swinging 
with the tide, and seeming as if it would follow it; 
cad yet it cannst, for down beneath the water it is 
anchored. ' So many a soul sways towards heaven, 
but can not ascend Either, because it is anchored to 
some secret sin. 
It is neither a weak nor an ignorant theory that 
ascribes, even to the most corrupt natures, moments 
of deepest remorse, sincere and true aspirations after 
better things, and a willingness to submit to the 
severest penalties of the past, if only there be a 
“ future” in store for them. 
Men who neglect Christ, and try to win heaven 
through moralities, are libs sailors at sea in a storm, 
who pul^ some at the bowsprit and some at »* 
mainmast, but never touch the helm. 
Christ’s cross is the sweetest burden that ever 
bear( it is such a burden as wings are to a bird, o 
sails to a ship, to carry me forward to my harbor. 
