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[Written for Moore's Rural Nevr-Yorker.] 
MOTHER’S PAPER. 
CASTLES. 
AtDKica. 
Time, that blunts the edge of things, 
Dries our tears and spoils our bliss; 
Time has brought such balm to me, 
I can bear to Bpeak of this. 
She was seven and I was nine— 
Pretty people we to plan 
Life, aurl lay it grandly out— 
She the woman, I the man! 
Sang the river on the shoals, 
Ssng the robin on the tree; 
Earth was newly made for us— 
Later Eve and Adam we. 
Lightly fell the apple blooms, 
Paved the road with red and white; 
Sunshine floated through the day, 
Silvery atoms through the night. 
Twenty years have come and gone; 
Drop the curtain, change the scene! 
Life, when one is nine years old, 
Does not say the thing It means. 
Other arms have clasped my Eve, 
Other lips have called her fair— 
Ah! but little Wind blows down 
Spring-time castles in the air! 
From this window I can Bee 
Up the road to Meadow Farm— 
That is she upon the porch 
With the baby on her arm 
“ I have always taken that paper because it was 
ray mothers favorite, and I never sec it coming into 
the houBe without thinking of her,” we heard a man 
in the prime of life say, the other day. “ Father used 
to instruct us to give her the first reading of her own 
paper, and although she would not have insisted on 
it herself, she seemed pleased at such a mark of 
respect from him. I can remember just how she 
used to look when, her daily labor done, she eat 
down to rest and enjoy her pnper. I believe it was 
seeinghowmuch enjoymentsbe found in such things 
that first made any thing of a scholar of me, and one 
of the first self-denials I ever practiced was to not 
interrupt her with needless questions while she was 
reading. As she became interested, the weary look 
Hhe usually wore would leave her face, and aa she 
resumed her work she wore a brighter, younger 
expression than usual. Tf she could only have known 
how much her quiet example would influence us all, 
how happy she would have been.” As he was speak¬ 
ing, his little girl came along and was lifted to his 
knee, while the little boy, somewhat older, ceased 
his play to listen. We could not but think what an 
example of filial affection ho was unconsciously giv¬ 
ing them. Toiling mothers, take courage; your lov¬ 
ing cares, your habits of thought, shall be a tender 
remembrance to your children while they live.” 
Geneva, Wis„ 1861. B. C. D. 
[TV tit ten for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
LINES .TO “NATE.” 
BY A- H. BULLOCK. 
At every turn, on sea of life, 
A u Nate ” we surely meet; 
With some, distress and woe are rife, 
With other* bliss complete. 
Though rumi-Nate the cud will chew, 
His habits are not bad; 
Don't drink and brawl, or make ado, 
Seems thoughtful, ofttimes sad. 
Unfortu Nate all strive to shun, 
But he waylays each path; 
Of all the Nates no other one 
So many servant* hath. 
There - stag-Nate, deaf, and dumb, and blind. 
More stupid thAn a toad, 
Will paralyze one's limbs and mind 
Encountered on the road. 
Procrasti-Nate is oft embraced, 
Some long retain his hand; 
Yet speak of him as one disgraced— 
A curse to any land. 
There's fulmi-Nate, in frightful tones, 
Mankind his voice must hear 
From caverns, clouds, and papal thrones— 
Rude messenger of fear. 
AGRICULTURE AND WOMEN. 
PATRIOTISM OP THE WOMEN. 
The patriotism of the North is fully aroused. The 
storming and taking of Fort Sumter by the rebels 
united all parties and classes north of Dixie’s land, 
and our entire people are arrayed as one man against 
those who are striving to dismember the Union and 
desecrate the Constitution and Laws. While the 
Men are nobly volunteering their services or liberally 
contributing their means to prosecute the War.for 
the Union, the Women of the North are exhibiting 
their patriotism in every suitable manner. Thou¬ 
sands have freely engaged in making clothing for the 
volunteers, many have offered their services as hos¬ 
pital and army nurses, while others have entered 
upon the discussion of the great question of the day 
— using cogent and unanswerable arguments in favor 
of sustaining the Government and upholding the 
Flag of the Country at all hazards and against all 
aggressors. For example: A Virginia vicegerent of 
the Mount Vernon Association lately sent a circular 
to her associates in the Free States, inviting a Peace 
Convention of the Women to settle the National 
difficulty. To this appeal the Rhode Island vice¬ 
gerent returned a very sensible reply, demolishing 
the false assumptions oi the Virginia woman, and 
stating the case thus dearly and patriotically: 
“Dear Mn<law I hasten to reply to the communi¬ 
cation which I received from you on Saturday eve¬ 
ning, and am glad of the opportunity to correct some 
misapprehensions Into which yon have fallen as to 
the object and meaning of the present great uprising 
of the North. The question at issue is not that of 
slavery or no slavery. No one proposes to interfere 
with slavery in the States; and with regard to the 
territories, that is a question of physical geography, 
and already decided by its immutable luws. If there 
is fear of negro insurrection in any of the States, they 
have only to remain firm in their allegiance, and the 
whole power of the government is pledged for their 
protection. Rot should they withdraw themselves, 
from under the broad mgi* of the constitution, 1 do 
not see how it can bo possible for the border States 
to retain their slaves, unless they ure more loyal to 
their masters than those masters to their country. 
“The question which moves the heart of the North 
as the heart of one man, is that of government or no 
government, freedom or anarchy, loyalty to the flag 
An American gentleman who lately visited Eng¬ 
land, was struck with the interest manifested by 
ladies, including those of the highest rank, in agri¬ 
culture. One of these, the Duchess of Portland, 
exhibited perfect familiarity with the minutest details 
of farm management and work, showing her Ameri¬ 
can guest over the whole of the Duke’s large estate, 
and explaining to him the various processes and 
methods of cultivation. 
We could wish that our American ladies would 
adopt one of tlio few aristocratic tastes and habits 
which sit gracefully upon republican women, and 
which would be of equal advantage to the interests 
Of agriculture and to their own delicate physical 
organizations. A great deal of cant is uttered in 
these days about the mission of woman, but when¬ 
ever we hear an attenuated, dyspeptic female talking 
in this wise, wc feel sure that the daily handling of a 
broomstick, in a peaceable manner, or the charge of 
a kitchen garden, would soon put her upon the track 
most useful for herself and for society. When Rome 
was young and virtuous, the kitchen garden was 
always placed under the care of the mother of the 
family. In Sparta, the women, fit to be the mothers 
of heroes, cultivated the soil, while the men were 
lighting the battles of their country. Indeed, from 
I the earliest period in the annals of our race, woman 
has aided by her counsels, and sometimes by her 
labors, in bringing agriculture to a state of perfec¬ 
tion. The laws which Osiris gave to Egypt were not 
as valuable to that country as those precepts in agri¬ 
culture, those instructions in embankments, irriga¬ 
tions, and drainings, which Jsis, Ids Queen, gave to 
the Egyptians, and which enabled them to derive so 
much benefit from the deposit of the Nile. Ceres, 
deified by the Greeks, made her people acquainted 
with the use of wheat, and the mode of cultivating 
it. To the Empress of China we are indebted for the 
mulberry tree and the rearing of worms. 
Woman, of late years, has demonstrated her capa¬ 
city of shining in many spheres once considered the 
peculiar province of man. Miss llerschel has dis¬ 
covered comets; Mrs. Somerville laid open the 
mathematical structure of the universe; some have 
analyzed the chemical relations of nature in the 
laboratory, and others investigated the laws of social 
relations. With such a great amount and variety of 
power, may we not augur the most beneficial results 
to agriculture, if the W’omen of our country, by their 
In-Nate and or-Nate tread the stage, 
The first with small display; 
The last will every eye engage 
When seen aloug the way 
Sir nomi Nate, men greet his face 
With moB^extatic joy, 
And give hi« grace unwearied chase, 
With ardor Of a boy. 
Effemi-Nate, In lady's dress, 
A nymph to idolize; 
In male attire gets do caress, 
His weakness we despise. 
Old obsti-Nate, a surly dog, 
Thinks he is wondrous stout; 
When soundly thrashed he'll never jog, 
Just folds his arms and pout. 
Inordi-Nate no bounds can hold, 
Nor his ambition tame; 
He most excessive thirsts for gold. 
Has longings wild for fame. 
There’s hiber-Natn, a cosy chap, 
With jolly smiling face; 
'Twere sweet reposing on his lap— 
A snug, delightful place. 
Our frames to clothe incar-Nate deigns, 
His vesture—flesh and blood— 
With uian decays, but deathless reigns 
With Christ, the Son of God. 
Burns, N. Y,, 1801 
of our country or rebellion against it. There is no j sympathy, encouragement, and co-operation, by their 
middle course. * A conditional patriot is an uncondi¬ 
tional traitor.’ In presence of this great question, 
all party lines, all social distinctions are here obliter¬ 
ated. The Breckinridge democrat shoulders his mus¬ 
ket in the ranks side by side with the Lincoln repub¬ 
lican, and their wives and daughters sew together on 
the same clothing for the soldiers, and offer them¬ 
selves with equal readiness to serve as nurses in the 
hospitals; the millionaire and the Irish luborer drill 
together in the same oowpany with equal enthusiasm 
and devotion to their common country. There is no 
bitterness towards the South; no desire to interfere 
with its rights. It is not a war of passion, but of 
principle; an unflinching determination to support, 
not Mr. Lincoln or any other man, but the majesty of 
law, the authority of government. For this all are 
ready to shed the last drop of their blood, to spend 
the last penny of their fortunes. The fixed, resolute 
determination of the North, to which there is no 
dissenting voice, is to have a country, a government, 
at whatever cost it may be purchased. If it can be 
done only by war, then war it must be, though all 
men deprecate its coming. 
‘‘The time for peace conventions, my dear Miss 
studies and counsels, would prove themselves, as did 
the women of old, help-meets to him whom God has 
ordained to cultivate the earth? — Balt. American. 
WOMAN’S DRESS. 
A healthy dress permits every organ in the body 
to perform its functions untrammeled. The fashion¬ 
able style does not allow this free action of the vital 
parts, and licnoe the present feeble, crippled condi¬ 
tion of the women of America. This evil, together 
with other physiological errors, is doing much to 
shorten the lives of our women and compromise the 
health and lifo of the whole American race. To 
avert these sad results, and to improve the health of 
our women generally, it is proposed that the follow¬ 
ing style of dress be adopted. This dress has been 
worn by the writer nearly nine years, and she is 
happy to say that it has saved her from a consump¬ 
tive’s grave, to which she was slowly but surely 
tending. 
The waist should be several inches longer than the 
body, a little shorter than the present fashion, and 
full in froiit, that the chest may enjoy the freest 
Johnson, is past. The time for government to use I action. The bands of the skirt should be much 
the voice of authority has come. For myself, the j larger than the body, buttons to be placed on the 
first Latin I ever learned in my girlhood was, 11 Dnlce band of the inside skirt, just as they are on a gentle- 
et decorum est pro patria mori that is the lesson 
which I must teach to others now. I have a brother 
and four nephews serving to-day as volunteers. They 
go as patriots , uot as republicans, for but one of the 
live voted for Mr. Lincoln; but they are ready to give 
their lives, if uced be, to save the most benelioent 
government which the world has ever seen, from 
falling before traitor hands. 
“ 1 have worked heartily with you, my dear Madam, 
lor the lit. Vernon cause, and I do not believe that 
out labor is lost; but I cannot, join you in what you 
now propose, because I know that it woul^ be useless. 
There is not a man in Rhode Island of any shade of 
party, of any grade of culture, who would entertain 
your proposition. We have had one Peace Congress, 
and where is its President now? 
“With the fullest confidence in the power of the 
government to sustain itself even in this hour of its 
trial, and with the earnest prayer that every good 
man and true may rally to its support, I am most 
sincerely yours, _ t t> 
No man or woman can appropriate beauly without 
paying for it—in endowments, in fortune, in position, 
in self-surrender, or other valuable stock; and there 
are a great many who are too poor,.too ordinary, too 
busy, too proud, to pay any of these prices for il. 
So the unbeautiful get many more lovers thun the 
beauties; only, as there are .more of them, their 
lovers are spread thinner, and do not make so much 
show. 
man’s pants for suspenders, and the same elastic 
suspenders worn, crossing behind. Make button- 
,holes iu the bands of the other skirts to correspond 
with the buttons on the inside skirt, and button on; 
thus one pair of suspenders will carry three or more 
skirts. 'This style of dress is attended by no discom¬ 
fort to the wearer, ami allows full action to every 
organ of the body. At the same it is sufficiently 
fashionable to escape observation. Of course corsets 
should never lie worn. And with the skirt supported 
as above described, there is no apology for wearing 
them. 
Whalebones have no business in a woman's dress. 
They spoil all the beauty of outline which Powers 
and other great artists have found in the natural 
woman. They interfere not less with that peculiar 
undulating action of the chest and abdomen which 
results from the normal action of the thoracic and 
abdominal Tiscera. And if the waist he short and 
loose, as advised above, there will be no need of 
whalebones to keep it down. God knew what he 
was doing when he made the human body, and made 
it just right in every way; and we cannot alter its 
shnpe without destroying its beautiful symmetry, and 
causing disease and premature death.— Lewis' New 
Gymnastics. 
In this world, it is not what we take up, but what 
we give up, that makes us rich. 
The Evening Clouds we see were made to-day— 
made of such trilles as the breaths of singing birds 
and singing flowers; the melted jewelry of the iuorn- 
iug dews, the silver night dress of the rivers and the 
voice of prayer. It is the heaped up utterance of 
yesterday. Dim, blue and beautiful, it is an enchant¬ 
ed mountain, though men have named it a cloud. 
We admire harmony and perfection in nature, or 
the arts. Though wc nro not always aware what 
attracts us—what rivets our attention—when viewing 
the beautiful and the sublime; yet when we examine 
critically, harmony, or adaptation, is never wanting, 
and it is necessary to perfection. No landscape or 
painting is pleasing without the naturalness and 
simplicity of harmony. It [is this adaptation in the 
natural world that enchants us, and its influence ex¬ 
tends over the intellectual and moral well-being of 
society. We admire no truths, unless there is pro¬ 
portionate weight and a seeming harmony; we 
love no characters composed of gross mental or 
moral incongruities. 
But, how little we consider the necessity of har¬ 
mony of character, without which there can never 
be any perfection. As soon might we expect perfect 
fruit from unpruned trees or a neglected garden, as 
from an unharmonized character or uncultivated 
mental powers. Education has much influence upon 
our social natures, and prepares us for prominent 
places and important duties. None can value too 
highly literary advantages, or the untold powers 
of the intellect. We may be talented, but if there 
is not the beauty of harmony to blend into a 
perfect whole our entire powers, we have never 
attained the greatest good of thorough intellectual 
discipline. This symmetry must be seen, and must 
be felt, or our daily experiences in social life will be 
most mortifying. Where we would find sympathy 
we are repelled,— where we would do good, there 
are insurmountable barriers,—where wc would look 
for rich fruits, lie withered hopes. We mourn over 
our sad failures, but live on in entire iguorance of 
their cause, and perhaps “die with all our imperfec¬ 
tions on our heads.” 
Again, we are slaves to habits and are bound with 
the strongest shackles of custom. All have experi¬ 
enced in some degree the evils, the regrets, that 
follow in the train of long indulged sinful passions 
and feelings. We try to overcome, to conquer our 
faults, and for a time are successful; but are over¬ 
come by new temptations, lose our self-respect, then 
sink deeper and deeper iuto the depths of sin and 
folly. If a man is ever to be pitied, it is when he is 
as a helpless child at the caprice of every wind of 
evil influence, nnsustained by firm principles,—with¬ 
out a well disciplined mind. “ Unstable as water, he 
cannot excel,” and is ofttimes overcome by the force 
of his own evil passions. At times he may be quiet, 
loving, and bis mind a “Temple of Intellect,” and 
his noble brow may be decked with wreaths of well 
earned fame; but there is no harmony of character, 
consequently no beauty or perfection. Byron was 
such a character. Much as he has been lauded,— 
much as be has suffered from his own sad and im¬ 
perfect representations of feelings,— much as his 
intellectual greatness has been, and is revered, and 
sometimes the better feelings of a crushed and de¬ 
based humanity blazing, bursting, from his bleeding 
soul, inspiring his poems,—still we look upon him as 
a moral wreck. There was no harmony of character, 
and we look in vain for perfection. His domestic 
turmoils, his warring agiinst the better feelings of 
his soul, were his ruin. The lives of many men 
afford similar and striking instances of those who 
have no harmony or perfection of character. No 
slavery can be so blighting as that which fetters the 
soul and dims our moral vision; yet imagination 
will gild over our most glaring faults. " Fancy 
paints beautiful pictures,” the poetic results of loose 
and jovial hours of pleasure, and we see “battle¬ 
ments that on their restless fronts bear stars,— illu¬ 
minations of all good,” till we are enchanted, 
bewildered, dead. 
Still, humanity has a brighter side, and there are 
many that look upon life and its duties from a better 
stand-point, and with n clearer vision. They bear 
all the burden of the present life cheerfully, persuing 
the zigzag pathway of their earthly wanderings with 
hope, with patience, with resignation. Paul fought 
the fight of faith, and won the glorious reward of 
suffering for his Master’s sake. John Milton, though 
poor, though aged, thoutrh blind, does not become 
discouraged while suffering these Btrangely combined 
afflictions. He loved to express the consolation that 
his blindness thrust him more directly on the protec¬ 
tion of Providence, and asserts “that he was fond of 
considering the darkness that veiled bis eyes as 
rather the shadow of the protecting wing of the 
Almighty, than the loss of sight.” Mrs. Hem a ns 
rose above all the grievances of social life, and the 
bitter, withering-influences that blighted her home- 
joys. She found comfort in the good, the beautiful, 
that was left her still, of life, and waited patiently for 
enduring pleasures,—for “perfect sympathy.” There 
was a harmony in these characters which must reach 
a high state of perfection in this life, and a higher 
one in the certain futurity of the blessed. “ To hear 
ia to conquer our fate.” j. 
Eden, Erie Co., N. Y„ 1801. 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
GIVE. 
Give to him that asketh thee.—Mathew—6: 42. 
Give to the needy with free hand, 
If God hath blest thy store; 
Turn not the suffering child of want 
In sternness from thy door. 
Give to the spirit, crushed with grief, 
Tby sympathizing love, 
And lot thy words of steadfast trust 
To resignation move. 
Give to the erring wanderer, 
Lost in the maze of sin, 
Thy kindly charity, if thou 
That callous heart would win. 
NO RIGHT TO BE UGLY- 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
HARMONY AND PERFECTION OF CHARACTER. 
Men or women, whatever their physical deformities 
may be, cannot be utterly ugly, except from moral 
and intellectual causes, and neither man nor woman 
baa any right to be ugly, and that if either be so, it 
is his or her fault, misdemeanor, or crime; and that 
being ugly; they cannot expect the love of their 
fellow-creatures. No man can love an ngly woman; 
no woman can love an ugly man; and if fathers and 
mothers can love an ugly child, it is a very sore 
struggle, and may be duty after all, and not love. 
To have lost, one’s nose or eye, to squint or to have 
a huncp-back, are certainly misfortunes, deteriora¬ 
tions of the beauty of the human form and impair¬ 
ments of its high ideal; but if all these calamities 
were centered in one unhappy person, they would 
not make him positively ugly, if he were wise, witty, 
amiable, benevolent, just, and generous, and passed 
his life in deeds of kindness and charity, 
Milton haB not endowed his sublime fiend with 
the horns, dragon’s tail, and other vulgar uglinesses 
of popular superstition. He was too great a poet 
and philosopher to fall into such an error. The 
physical beauty of his Satan was originally as great 
as that of the angels who had not fallen, in all out¬ 
ward attributes: but the hideousness was in the 
mind, and the mind moulded the body to its own 
character; and Satan, thongh he was, as Sydney 
Smith said, “a fine fellow” in one sense, wa*terribly 
ugly in another; sublimely horrible, and infinitely 
more fearful to think of than the grotesque compound 
of Satyr and Dragon whom we owe to the exuberant 
fancy and bad taste of the monks of the middle ages. 
A truly ugly person may have had a well developed 
nose and regular features; he may be six feet high, 
and shapely as the Apollo Belvidere, but the evil 
spirit that is in him has set the indescribable but pal¬ 
pable seal of a bad mind upon all his physical linea¬ 
ments. Ho bears the brand of criminality upon his 
forehead as Cain did, and carries a mark of the 
Divine displeasure stamped upon his face, shaded in 
his aspect, toned in his voice, telegraphed into his 
looks and gestures. By these means he ia pointed 
out to his fellow-creatures us one who sinned against 
the moral government of the universe, so that, all who 
see him may know him, and take warning by bis pun 
ishment. All that is morally good, is physically beau¬ 
tiful, all that is morally bad, is physically ugly: 
ergo, every man and woman may bo beautiful if they 
like, and no man or woman has a right to be ugly.— 
London Review. 
Again to love of virtue's ways, 
Again to worthy life, 
Would see a spirit pure and calm, 
Replace that inward strife. 
Give what thou hast, though loving words 
Be all thou ba9t to give; 
It is the Savior's great command, 
He will thy gift receive. 
Geneva, Wis., 1861. B. C. 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
ANGELS. 
INFLUENCE OF SMILES. 
A smile is indeed a thing of beauty. Whether 
living on the lips of gladsome youth, or flickering 
on the dyiug features of worn-out age, it holds its 
beauty still. Whether making loveliness yet more 
winsome, or rendering ugliness less repulsive than 
its wont, a smile yet holds its nature—jet it is beau¬ 
tiful. Magic lurks therein, and sways tho human 
heart as words never can — quickens its quiet pulse, 
or soothes and calms the hurried throb as they may 
need. And beneath the encouraging influence of 
one sweet, upholding smile, the heart itself may 
change its mood — may yield its mad intent, if uot 
cast out forever its evil promptings and its dark pro¬ 
pensities. And so may thesmiles of derision madden 
beyond what the utmost words can do, even as the 
smile of praise will spur humanity to great and noble 
deeds beyond the approach of all other promptings. 
Its silent power sinks in the heart, and heals souio 
new made thrust, as sweetly and gently as falls the 
mysterious dew from Heaven. And the smile of 
love! It beams in the mother’s eyes as she sees 
beauty iu her infant’s face, and a silent laugh of 
unknown joy from her darling babe. It plays with 
stronger and more thrilling magic on the maiden's 
lovely countenance, as her heart's idol meets her far- 
seeing eyo, and draws near to let her look of love lose 
none of its precious value in needless dlstaucebctween 
them. And with deeper, purer joy, it comes to the 
wife’s glad face when her husband’s fond gaze tells 
her how much is gained since he fust called her 
wife. Holy, beautiful indeed, is the smile of fathom¬ 
less and perfect love. Too seldom, indeed, does it 
live — too seldom lighten heavy cares and earthly 
sorrows. Too seldom does it have birth — too often 
does it soon leave life’s pathway, even if fairly born 
and dearly welcomed there. 
BUT ONE WAY. 
Nothing is lost. The whole past is engraven on 
our hearts, as on an imperishable tablet. With the 
mind beclouded as it is in this world, we may be able 
only to descry the great events; but if not in this 
world, then in another the mist will be scattered, and 
we shall be able to read our lives over again, just as 
they have been spent. There ia hut one method by 
which the painful memories of the past may be 
removed. The heart that is washed in the atoning 
blood of Christ has in His grace an antidote both for 
sin and sorrow. "The blood of Jesus Christ cleans- 
eth us from all sin.” His love sanctifies sorrow, and 
makes it and the memory of it a real blessing. The 
one who has made the Savior his trust, and who is 
seeking to live as He lived, has nothing to fear in the 
utmost activity of memory. But he who has the 
guilt of his sins resting on his own soul, has reason 
to tremble. In some dark lane of life, in some hour 
of gloom, or in the last dread conflict, his sins may 
meet him again, and overwhelm him with the recol¬ 
lection. Or, if he escape in life, memory, which has 
recorded all, will be faithful to her trust, and woe be 
to the soul that has to answer for itself in another 
world. — Observer. 
THE TWO ARCHITECTS. 
CLOSING UP. 
The close of the week—how gratefully it comes to 
toiling and weary millions! Even those who reject 
religion and its institution, acknowledge the wise, 
if not divine, ordination of the Sabbath — a day of 
rest and peace — wise, because it answers one of the 
greatest human wants, as no other device could. As 
the shadows of evening fall on Saturday night, the 
mechanic and artizan will lay down tbeir toil armor, 
and tho finger-worn needle-woman will fold up her 
work — that brings, alas! too scanty pittance — and 
homeward from every busy haunt will go the 
hosts whose hands surrounds u with the comforts 
and luxuries of life. And how quiet will become 
the great city, erst so full of the music of diverse 
yet mingling labor! The songs of the hammer and 
trowel cease, and the anthems of wheels die away 
over the deserted streets, anil solitude comes so wel¬ 
come to every better sense. Repose, so sweet after 
the week’s toil, to be uubroken for a day — repose, 
which brings reflection and meditation, culturiDg the 
mind by a review of the experiences through which 
it has passed. May they ever strengthen us all, to 
renew the bustle of life with greater earnestness, and 
with higher aims. 
“The high-priest rose up, with his brethren the priests, 
and they builded.” — Kkh. 3: 1. 
Two architects were once candidates for the 
building of a certain temple at Athens. The first 
harangued the Crowd very learnedly upon the differ¬ 
ent orders of architecture, and showed them in what 
manner the temple should be built. The other, who 
got up after him, only observed that what his brother 
had spoken he could do; and thus he at onoe gained 
the cause. Such is the difference between the specu¬ 
lative and the practical Christian. 
Prayer. — It is not the place of prayer that God 
examines; nor is it the words that God primarily 
regards; it is not the form in any sense that avails; 
it is the intense and ardent desire breathed from the 
depths of the heart into the ear of God which God 
answers exceeding abundantly above all that we can 
ask or think. 
As daylight can be seen through very small holes, 
so little things will illustrate a person’s character. 
Indeed, character consists in little acts, and honora¬ 
bly performed: daily life being the quarry from 
which we build it up, and rough-hewn stones the 
habits that form it. 
Every sinful outward word aud deed, and every 
secret thought and purpose of the mind, re-acts upon 
the mind itself and leaves its own impression there 
as upon an ineffaceable tablet. Aside from all the 
influence our sin may exert upon others, it puts 
imperishable impressions upon our own minds. 
We have always loved the angels. In the inno¬ 
cence of childhood we fell asleep, soothed by a 
mother’s sweet assurance that 
“Holy angels guard thy bed;" 
and as we grew older, we delighted to think that a 
guardian angel continually watched over us, zealous 
for our good. Even in riper years we do not discard 
the pleasant fancy, and when favored with some 
peculiar tokens of the divine favor, each one has 
“ Felt that God was smiling on my lot, 
And made the airs his angels to convey 
To every sense anil sensibility, 
The message of his favor.” 
Eagerly you listen, and almost fancy that you hear 
the rustle of angelic wings, conscious that Gon has 
fulfilled his promise and given the angels charge 
over you. 
Tn the beautiful mythology of the Arabians, it is 
said that two angels unseen attend each one of us, 
to mark our good and evil deeds. The one joyfully 
records every good act, and forthwith transmits the 
record to heaven. But the other keeps the dreadful 
day-book open till sunset, and if we repent, tlie 
record fades away and leaves a line of white across 
the page. Despite the source, we admire the idea; 
for it is no less pleasant to think that our good deeds 
are irrevocable, than to feel that wc may obtain for¬ 
giveness for others. But as no angel has power to 
forgive sin, we must reject the mythology and seek 
elsewhere to] ascertain the real mission of angels. 
Revelation tells us in language plain, “ are they not 
all ministering spirits sent forth to minister for them 
who shall be heirs of salvation?” Yes, we may dis¬ 
card fancies, and rely confidently on this blessed 
assurance. Those glorious beings, fulfilling ever the 
behests of Dicty, are engaged in a constant ministry 
of love. And for whom? “ For them who shall be 
heirs of salvation.” Have you a portion in this great 
inheritance? Havel? If so, then happy is our lot. 
However humble our station, we arc “the favored 
ones of earth.” No more will we repine at trials or 
afflictions, but will watch for the coming of the 
“ ministering spirits,” aud be thankful for the bless¬ 
ings which they bring. Are we heirs? Then our 
ladder of faith, reaching from earth to heaven, shall 
be thronged with celestial visitors, Jacob’s glorious 
vision shall be realized in our experience, every 
mountain top shall prove a Pisgali, every vale a 
Bethel. Cato. 
Angelica, N. Y-, 1861. 
A Religion that never suffices to govern a man, 
will never suffice to save him; that which does not 
sufficiently distinguish one from a wicked world, will 
never distinguish him from a perishing world.— 
Howe. 
