Hadjis' jf*j> .nlwat. 
[Written for Moore's Kur il New-Yorker.) 
ALICE-A FRAGMENT. 
BT MAKOAKK7 «iLLIOTT. 
A Bad, Bweet face up' irned to mine. 
Haloed with lock- if gold, 
Whose glory waxet brighter otill 
The longer I behold. 
Eyee of a tender, nintly blue, 
Still gazing in’ mine, 
Through whone < ear depths I see her soul 
Look from it earthly shrine. 
Bot with an en nest, wistful look, 
As if forget’, ug earth. 
Her thoughts were centered on the land 
Which gave her spirit birth. 
Gainesrille, N. Y., 1861. 
HEART DEATHS. 
JIkabi oft die bitter deaths before 
The i reath is breathed away, 
And number weary twilights o’er 
Ero t ie last evening gray. 
I’ve sometimes looked on closed eyes 
And folded bands of snow, 
A od said, “ It was no sacrifice; 
The heart went long ago." 
Oh, blest were we, if every pang, 
Like harshest discord given, 
Proved a celestial bird, which sang 
And lured us up to Heaven! 
— -s ■ ♦ » -» _ . 
[Written for Mooro'g Rural Now-Yorker.J 
OUT IN THE WOODS. 
Wonder if all country girls enjoy the woods as 
riel, ly as I. I)o they, in sweet Spring-time, fair Sum¬ 
mer, or glorious Autumn, stray into the pleasant 
open woods near by, in quest of un hour or two’s 
companionship with its interesting inhabitants; guyly 
climbing the miniature bluffs, anon amounting and 
alighting from an old brown weather-beaten log, 
which may have been a vigorous sapling that your 
great great grandmother’s oyes gazed upon two 
hundred years ago; now crossing the creek in the 
vale below as it hasteth on with glad music to tell 
the peasant lake, but a few miles distant, "of the 
concert it gave upon the side” of the bluff; now 
watehing the evolutions of the numerous feathered 
BoigBters, whose jubilant songs repel all dreariness 
or loneliness, awaking in us a vivid enuseiousness of 
life in the quiet of the woods; now pursuing the 
lively, frolicksorae rabbit that has popped out from 
its burrow to enjoy the clear sunshine, Its timidity 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.) 
ANOTHER VIEW. 
— Ok the many things I find to dislike in the little 
word-picture of "Matrimony,” in your iB«ue of June 
15th, I find one to like. The one pleasing feature is 
the crost Hign ("X”) at its close, so appropriate, bo 
B uggestive. I am quite sure the author of that sketch 
must be either an unhappy wife, or a loveless and 
unlovable "old maid.” But there it another side to 
the picture quite as truthful as the one given. There 
are “ humans ” who have hearts even after they are 
married ,—women who love to please their husbands 
(as well as, aforetime, their lovers) by "neatness of 
dress,” "sweetness of temper,” and the thousand 
little attentions and kindnesses which serve to 
strengthen the golden chain of affection, binding 
heart to heart indissolubly. And there are men, too, 
who have not forfeited their rightful claim to that 
ennobling title by any display of selfishness, and a 
disposition to sway an iron Bceptre where only love 
should rule. 
Very unwilling am I that the uninitiated should 
believe married life so unmitigatrdhj bad as " X” 
would make it appear. While there may be excep¬ 
tional cases, from which tho sad picture was drawn, 
I cannot believe it to be generally true. Observation 
and experience have led me to a different conclusion. 
Here is my advice to you, young men and women. 
Be in no haste to marry, and observe much. When 
you find one who, in the most trivial matters of life, 
is truthful; who is kind and affectionate to all, and 
ever considerate and forbearing (to others, as well as 
yourself); who Jb industrious and economical, ho you 
may never fear of finding yourself some day a home¬ 
less wanderer; when you meet with one in whom 
your soul finds over some now delight, whoso tastes 
and opinions coincide with (yet are not borrowed 
from) yours,—then never fear that life, with such an 
one, will be a wretched existence. Caros may come, 
so will they to the unmarried, and two, united, can 
battle to conquer them better than one. Mutual con¬ 
cessions, mutual forbearance and affection, will insure 
you a " prize” even in that " lottery,”—Marriage. 
Livonia, N. Y., 1861. M—ly. 
BABY CULTURE. 
A mother who lias evidently acquired experience 
in this most important science, writes as follows, 
Irom New Haven, to the American Agriculturist ; 
"How are most babies treated? Are they not 
smothered with blankets, kept in close roomR, and 
cool, fresh air avoided as if it werea pestilence? Do 
they not worry and cry for this very want, and then 
dosn’t nurse come to helpless mamma and Insist that 
the little creature is hungry, though nursed hut a 
short time before? Then, hungry or not, its cries 
®Wut QOINO TO bed -^s°phical view. 
- — - ■ - Bomk Hin « otr tbeir garments as if they wore the 
[Written for Moore'* Rural New-Yorker.) Rhi ? °f Nessus-wasn’t that his name?-and were 
DEFECTIVE EYESIGHT. - Mt 1C ° ** * ° US t0 get at Here wt,!r,s & vest 
_ 10 onG cornep — ,tfl contents jingle to the floor as it 
BY a. H. bullock. lies- There goes a hoot nchochet. The stocking 
t “ , are turned inside out; tbe hapless coat hantmhyite 
"" *££ *• »- “ wan»bo L. 
Pillows tumbled this way and that; the feet are in- 
“And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s serted between the sheets, and, like a shuttle through 
ye, but perceivest not the beam that is In thine own eye?” a loom, down goes the body; one arm flung under the 
Such, reader, dear, were well described defects head; lower jaw and eyelids droop together, and the 
In eyes of ancient*, In the Hebrew line, man is asleep—asleep all over—asleep for all night 
And, truth to toll, in spite of wondrous "specs,” Another goes tetering about on his toes. He nut 
Same blemish yot remains in yours and mine. his watch here, his coat there, and h's vest t), 
With inoro th/in microscopic powDr 8nch buam nn t * , . , . , ’ *• bt tfurre. 
Will magnify the faults of others ™c«-beam Hfa boots stand sole by side, like a brace of grena- 
Who, sailing With US on life's turbid stream, , rfl; ^ tlps of hlfl 8tockin S s Peep out systeraati- 
Are bound t* quag the wormwood and the gall. ca y at t ' ie *°P‘> and ** be winter, he lingers upon 
Hence charity demands that mantle broad bed ’ a ed K‘* like one about to take a bath—dread- 
Should o’er their frailties oft b« thrown with care, * n 8. * Tet desiring, and finally steals into bed by de- 
More just allowing Wrong to pass uunwed grecs, draw* the quilt and the counterpane over his 
Than causing Innocence with Guilt to share. head, and is motionless-is gone-arrives in the land 
In Bocial circles, neighborhoods, and towns, Nod. 
In church and State, in nations great and Bmall, only thinks of it, sleep, in a great city is a 
This sore disease with each and all abounds- queer thing. Think of fifty thousand in this citv all 
Prolific cause of woes that earth befall. Bleeping at once. Fifty thousand, in tiers, one two 
Traced to their source, the evils we endure, three four flon e ,, ' ’ 
Heart-burnings, discord, anarchy, and war d deep > frot " «<■'”« *0 garret. Fifty 
Spring from desire to show our own hearts pure . d 10 rrjWH & ml,e !on «' Tt ‘ n thousand in red 
And other’s name with infamy to mar. nightcaps, tasselcd and nntasseled. Ten thousand 
Prompted b, on.,, And prrd., "TvIT, Tt "'"n' “ d MoDd ‘ I " 
In brother*. o,. the mote proolLtete., ■» «■»« »»e». Some edged 
Self-rightenusly ussnme to i><; his guide ' 1 some icinmed with a sail needle, and 
From his reproof asserting wo are Tree. some uncapped altogether, with locks dishevelled 
Exemplified in panorama grand, and r,J fll e«J like "quills upon the fretfol porcupine,” 
The truth of this is now within our view Five thousand snoring alto—five thousand snoring 
In the dissensions which distract our land, bass. Twenty thousand under calico. A hundred or 
And in the fonut whereat they eprang and grew. so beneath silk. Some weeping—some smiling in 
The over-zealous, in both North aud South, their dreams—others dreamless as the grave. Ring- 
From other’s eyes for costing rnoU-s Will preach, lets twisted up in cigar lighters—tresses streaming 
Without concern for beams of giant growth over the pillow — no tresses at all. 
That in their own obscure the sight of each ' fc 
Fiercely denounce the Other’s sets,’SO seen Lven asleep, humanity preserves its peculiarities, p 
As being flagrant crime, beyond compare,’ Even 10 drcams > men are distinctive still .—Chicago fi 
Shelter their own w if.b IivkaamIIa ....... Journal. . 
’i 6 «i fSttsiags. 
eye, but perceiveat not the beam that is in thine own eye?” 
Such, reader, dear, were well described defects 
In eyes of ancients, In the Hebrew line, 
And, truth to toll, In spite of wondrous " specs,” 
Same blemish yet remains in yours and mine. 
With more than microscopic power such beam 
Will magnify the faults of others all, 
Who, sailing with us on life's turbid stream, 
Are bound t» quad the wormwood and the gall. 
Hence charity demands that mantle broad 
Should o’er their frailties oft be thrown with care. 
More just allowing Wrong to paa- unawed 
Than causing Innocence with Guilt to share. 
In social circles, neighborhoods, and towns, 
In church and State, in nations great and Bmall, 
This sore disease with each and all abounds— 
Prolific cause of woes that earth befalL 
Traced to their source, the evils we endure, 
Heart-burnings, discord, anarchy, and war, 
Spring from desire to show our own hearts pure, 
And other’s name with infamy to mar. 
Prompted by envy, jealousy, and pride, 
In brother’* eye the mote proclaim to see, 
Self righteously assume to Ik; his guide, 
From hi* reproof asserting we are free. 
Exemplified in panorama grand, 
The truth of this is now within our view 
In the dissensions which distract our land. 
And in th,- fonut whereat they sprang and grew 
The over-zealous, In both North aud South, 
From other's eyes for costing mote* will preach, 
Without concern for beam* of giant growth 
That in tlielr own obscure the sight of each. 
Fiercely denounce the other's acts, sn seen, 
As being flagrant crime, beyond compare, 
Shelter their own vi ith hypoeritic screen, 
To make " outside of cup and platter" fair. 
Such pure pretence and philanthropic feint 
For killing weeds lu neighbors’ fields to roam, 
Would ape far more the virtues of a saint 
Uprooting each the wickedness at home. 
Communion, then, with “ Union " be enjoyed, 
And each unrnilind in our hearts remain, 
Oar earthly hies mgs never more alloyed 
With this wild germ of bitter hate and pain. 
Burns, N. Y., 1861. 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.) 
SOUL-YEARNINGS. 
O, travailing soul. 
What mean these throbs and throes that rack thy frame? 
What this thou 3truggle«t but in vain to name, 
Which leaves thee fruitless, writhing, e’er the same 
In happy pain? 
What seekest thon, , 
When, spell-bound 'neath the rich soft CAnopy 
Of fading blue, which shades the galaxy 
Of golden stars, while zephyrs soothingly 
And sweetly chime,— 
And thon dost seem 
To strive thyself to clothe with wings, and near 
To Heaven, there bathe thy pinions in the clear 
Ethereal waves which sparkle *bove this sphere, 
A sea of bliss? 
And when the notes 
Of soDg come gushing forth, and light ascend 
In strains so sweetly wild, or soft descend, 
Until the heart's most sensitive strings extend 
With thrill of Joy,— 
0, God, it seems 
Could perfect beauty greet my vision clear, 
Could perfect symphonies strike on my ear, 
My sonl would melt, and, rising, disappear 
In mistB of praise! 
0, may I be 
At last permitted, sitting at Thy feet, 
My spirit, with Thy glories, too replete, 
And join the Heavenly harmonies that greet 
Thee age and ago. 
Rochester, N. Y., 1861. CEB 
REFUGE FROM STRIFE. 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.) 
CULTIVATION OF BOCIAL AFFECTIONS 
THE OLORY OF THE PINES. 
Magnificent! — nay, sometimes almost terrible. 
Other trees, tufting crag or bill, yield to the form 
and sway of tho ground, clothe it with soft compli- 
ance, and partly it* subjects, partly its flatterers, 
partly its comforters. But tho pine rises in serene 
resistance, self-contained; nor can I ever, without 
awe, stay long under a great Alpine cliff, far from 
all house or work of men, looking np to its compa¬ 
nies of pine, as they stand on the inaccessible jute 
I HAVE all along been vastly too much disquieted 
by the misconstruction of those who did not com¬ 
prehend me, and have suffered much, both from the 
fatigue of refuting and explaining the same thing an 
hundred times over, and from the vexation felt in 
finding that, in spite of every effort, there is a charac¬ 
ter assigned my viowB the very reverse of every 
principle by which I am actuated. Bnt why should 
the opposition of men thus affect roc? Does it not 
test my belief in tho reality of an all-perfect mind 
that is now looking on when I suffer ho painfully 
from the adverse understanding of the limited and 
subordinate minds by which I am surrounded? 
Would it not nobly accredit my faith in God that in 
a quiet communion with him I found a resting-place 
when so/ely urged by the strife of tongues? To Him 
may I At all times patiently commit my cause, and be 
- vujvj n«v vicoi nuiibuiue, its umluily - -* -AAMMKij wt uut, jw cries 
and harmlcssness so touching your humanity U8 to arc s,ilIcd with food d ”«s not need, bona fide pain 
prevent a spirited chase on your part, till suddenly comes ’ discuses often follow in dire succession, and 
it sinks into the ground and out of sight.; now enjoy- mother and BUM* are well worn out before many 
ing a glimpse at squirreldom, that most interesting days with Buch a wor « 7 ing child. Who would not 
species of the rodentia, beavers excepted: worry under such treatment ? Babies appreciate 
“ What a springing, 
Running, leaping, 
Up aud down, from tree to treo." 
We were pleasantly reminded of nutting-time, when 
we spied those bright eyes in the branches o’er our 
heads, fixed jealously upon us a moment, tbeu tho 
playful little animal* sliding down tho great trunk 
right into our face*, winked gayly, and were off out 
of reach in n moment, A picture of by-gones is 
vivid in your mind, as you near that mound of moss 
of the clearest, loveliest, intensest green, seated up¬ 
on which, in rambles past, with a genial companion, 
you pleasantly beguiled tho time in cheerful conver¬ 
sation. Lovely, romantic retreat. The wide-spread- 
comes, discuses often follow in dire succession, and 
mother and nurse are well worn out before many 
days with such a worrying child. Who would not 
worry under such treatment? Babies appreciate 
oxygen thoroughly, and there would not be so many 
‘terrible infants’ were there more of it In sleeping 
and living apartments. 
"Well, to be practical, and * give my experience,’ 
which consists, at this present time, of as healthy 
specimens of hoys and girls as ever made parents’ 
hearts brim full of thankfulness, f have pursued 
with them from their birth undeviating regularity in 
sleep, food, and out door life, nothing but downright 
rain preventing the latter. Mothers tell me, • Oh, it’s 
a very good wuy, if you can only carry it out, but—1 
can’t.’ Well, if children are not worth self denial; if 
they arc not better than calls, or company, or visit¬ 
ing, then they must go to the servants; bnt to those 
mothers’ warm hearts which make light of all fatigue 
ULTIVATION OF BOCIAL AFFECTIONS. and P eril ”us lodges of the enormous wall, in quiet IDtt ' V . 1 ?lt aU timeR P atient, y commit iny cause, arid be 
- multitudes, each like the shadow of the one beside 8,1,1 ln tIie tll0u 8 h t lljat Ue la my Rod. Let mo con- 
Affbction is one of the crowning attributes of our nprlgbt, fixed, spectral, as troop H of ghosts stand 8lder Him who cn Jured i not merely the controversy 
ituro. To cherish feeII ddr of nvmnai.bt, inn on tlm wniL r,r .of adverse indumenta bnt r.f milla ik« __ 
. . . " , (l1 in n IIJHrYlJ IJL'IJL i»I lliJ JullLMH* 
mg branches ol the glaut trees bend caressingly over l And care for the sake of the baby, who accept the 
YOU! atm un VOll ira f /« rm InU n «i_ al -1 --.i*a . • , .. 
you; and as you gaze np into the bine other that 
overarches all, a holy quiet reigns. You feel im¬ 
pressed with the sublimity of the scene, and gaze 
with intense admiration; that azure dome never look 
ing more brilliant or serenely beautiful by day, than 
when seen through tho opening foliage. Snatches 
of gay songs from the treo stops suddenly interrupt 
your meditations of the ethereal; you look around; 
vigorous Beech, Birch, and Muple, shoot up here and 
there, proud as young palms, while the meek-eyed 
Violot reposes at your feet; Bolomon’s Seals, nod- 
Bweet task committed to their hands by a Heavenly 
Father, bow much batter to have the key of sunny 
faces aud joyous rippling Jaughtor, than wry 
faces and shrieks 'that make night hideous.’ If a 
child is born healthy, all it needs to thrive, is the 
nature. To cherish feelings of sympathy toward 
another is both productive of a high degree of pleas¬ 
ure, and in accordance with the dictates of reason. 
He who formed the human soul not only designed 
that it should be the seat of strong social affections, 
but that their cultivation should conduce at once to 
enjoyment and to virtue. 
The existence of the Bocial affections is universal. 
They are not confined to persons of taste and refine¬ 
ment, but bave a place in the breasts of the rude, 
the unlettered, and uncivilized. The dweller in the 
forest wigwam, and the inmate of the princely man- 
sion, both feel their poorer. They may be cultivated, 
and on their Judicidif i cultivation depends many of 
the fairest productions of the human heart. I envy 
not the man who has no sympathy with hi* fellow In 
his sorrows and in his joys,—who feels no flow of 
delight in his success,—who has no tear to shed 
over the grave or over the misfortune* of his friend. 
Nor do I envy the ascetic, who fancies himself out of 
the reach of the world’s temptations. His recluse 
manner of lire makes him a haler both of mankind 
and of himself. True retirement has its pleasures 
and its advantages, but absolute seclusion from the 
world is not only wrong in itself, but also precludes 
ing on the walls of Hades, not knowing each other— 
dumb forever. ^ ou cannot roach them, cannot cry 
to them—those trees never heard human voice; they 
are far above all sound hut of the winds. No foot 
ever stirred fallen leaf of theirs. All comfortless 
they stand, between the two eternities of the Vacancy 
and the Rock; yet with such iron will, that tho rock 
itself lookB bent and shattered beside them-fragilo, 
weak, inconsistent, compared to their dark energy 
of delicate life and monotony of enchanted pride; 
unnumbered, unconquerable.— Rusktn. 
. uviiu in mu uinv WIUIIK in 1 
carrying out of simple, natural laws. For tho first the attainment of happiness. 
t WO AVAflf f urn linmm In AnAn.l. r. - __ * * 
two weeks, every two hours is often enough for nurs¬ 
ing; it will then be regularly hungry and as regularly 
satisfied; if it cries, yau will know it is not hungry; 
and Its stomach will nfcvor be over-loaded. 
"Let it sleep in a crib by your side, never with 
, , , , .’ —" —.-’’i' /mu hiuc, never wilt 
ding Beem to acknowledge your presence; the pretty yon; then tho sleep is longer, sweeter, and more re 
Orchis nlant leiwlu hp, _ . ’ *'■ 
Orchis plant lends her rich bloom and gentle grace 
to the scene, while Jack in Pulpit, In his native dig¬ 
nity, greets you from all sides. Lot me oft retire to 
this favored spot, and drinking in the inspiration of 
the scene, be carried np ubove the petty concorns of 
this selfish life. 
Not the least attractive portion of wood scenery 
arc the flowers, those creations embodying so much 
which is beautiful in nature. Bucb wondrous archi¬ 
tecture,—such brilliant design, adapted to please the 
freshing. Never wake a child—no, not to show it to 
the Queen of England. Wrap it well, all but the 
face, and take it daily into the purest air you can 
find. Let its baths be riot decidedly cold water, and 
before nursing, and tbeu another nice nap will fol¬ 
low. As it grows a few months older, keep it om of 
doors half the time, and in summer its best naps will 
be under tho broad roof of heaven; if you want to see 
the little one’s cheeks take on tbe rose, let it feel the 
splendid tonic- in a sharp nor’-wester, and it will 
Architect, they jnstly claim a large share of our at¬ 
tention. Tho extensive woodland near by is rich 
with flowers of all forms and colors,—the white, the 
purple, the pink, and the blue. I rejoice in meeting 
a new acquaintance among them, and invariably im¬ 
prove the earliest opportunity of analyzing and 
Classifying the stranger, ever delighting in tho ac¬ 
quisition of plant-acquaintance. Thus every visit 
made in this agreeable research is amply repaid in 
my mind. I well recollect the odd-looking, nodding 
Mowers, borne on a scape six inches high, that met 
my anxious gaze in this favored seclusion about two 
years since, i had often observed the pretty plant, 
had admired it* smoothness and finely cut leaves, but 
of its Singular inflorescence I bad not tbe faintest 
idea, it utterly eclipsed in oddity all the flowers I 
had yet seen. I immediately referred to my trusty 
companion, the Botany, which gave it the very signi¬ 
ficant name of Dutchman's Breeches. I am now in 
pnrsuit of the Dutchman’s Pipe, not however, be¬ 
cause f have any prediction for.this particular solace 
of so many of tbe human race, except it appear in 
the vegetable kingdom, and there principally for its 
oddity. Here allow me to publicly express a wish. 
May his lordship aud all young America’s, who 
delight in the venerable namesake of this curious 
little plant, the Dutchman’s I’ipe, soon experience a 
millenium in the utter laying aside, as abominable 
and detestable, that most ruinous practice, of indulg¬ 
ing, in any way whatever, tlie use of the nauseous 
poisonous weed-tobacco. Happily the tobacco 
plant Is not an Inhabitant of woods, the domain of 
nature 1 much love and admire. Were I deprived of 
their companionship,—were I in a country were tho 
woodman’s axe had told the fearful story of annihila¬ 
tion,—I would pine for the dear old woods, which , 
have been miuc to enjoy from childhood. 
Erie Co., Pa, 1861. LlzJ!IE j 
It is natural for man to love society,—to be united 
I in iuterest and feeling with those to whom he can 
impart his joys and reveal his sorrows,—to long for 
some kindred spirit, animated with similar emotions, 
to whom he can make known the secrets of his 
heart,—one who can sympathize with him in his 
anxieties, and participate in his pleasures. 
When a person witnesses scenes that awaken in 
him emotions of admiration or sublimity, how groatly 
is his pleasure enhanced if there are those to whom 
bo can reveal his emotions. The traveler, as he 
looks upon the beauties of nature or the embellish¬ 
ments iff art, tools additional happiness in discours¬ 
ing of them to his friends. The lover off study, and 
admirer of eloquence and poetry, though he devote 
himself assiduously to the former, aud witness the 
* * -- i-— •• nimiD uui *WUBIU1. Him 1 r yjiij 1,5IF nnn iJ nA , ., .. ' -- r w ^ tmiuuuubo ttuu o-* - • voav v-m-h nan; ua»D ou iijiMj mi a I lurCC la- 
eye, re ino the taste and load tho mind to the great smile ut the snow flakes as they softly melt on its aublimest rrhihirim. ° r "i K "TT’ a '“ 5 WItne88 thc wavc ’ That is a UMcful quality, and much to be tion of the noble relations of this life, and of God’s 
Architect,-they justly claim a large share of our at- velvet cheeks, and grow daily so strong, and fat and f 'r ?! ' '° Hy hh res P ect * d ’ yel onl y af ^'' its kind, as a thing which a educational discipline to fit ns for those relations as 
tontion. Tho extensive woodinnH .. .... .... ^ nu mind and aenaes dohghted, but is still nnsati H ib.A .m. _ . ' 8 
velvet cheeks, and grow daily so strong, and fat, and 
happy, that the little life will be one Continual hymn 
of praise to God for its own existence. 
" The observance of regular hours for the morning 
and afternoon nap, and laying the child in its crib, 
wide awake, when the time conies, is of tho greatest 
importance. It all turns on commencing right, and 
then there's no trouble. How infinitely better to lay 
a laughing, playful creature, with a good night kiss, 
to sleep its long healthful sleep, than the common 
rocking and hushing so often repeated, and often in 
vain—or the watching by tbe bedside, or the leaving 
a light to go to sleep by. Never reward a child for 
crying, by giving the articles desired; wait till it 
stops. l each it to amuse itself oft.cn, and not require 
some one to be constantly shaking a rattle, or tapping 
a window, but lay it on a bed or floor, with a plaj T - 
thing—a slipper is an unfailing amusement when all 
other objects fall. Lastly, always endeavor to have a 
serene, pleasant face when yon nurse your child; 
chameleon like, it is taking hues to its soul, that 
color and shape it for life and eternity.” 
GREAT MEN BORN. NOT MADE. 
Generally speaking, the greatness or smallnesB 
of a man is determined for him nthisbirtb, as strictly 
as it is determined for a fruit whether it shall be a 
currant or an apricot. Education, favorable circum¬ 
stances, resolution, industry, can do much; in a cer¬ 
tain sense they do everything; that is to say, they 
determine whether the apricot shall fall in the form 
of a green bead, blighted by the east wind, and shall 
be trodden under foot, or whether it shall expand 
in tender pride and sweet brightness of golden 
velvet. But apricot out of currant., great men out of 
small, did never yet art or effort make; and in a 
general way men bave their excellence nearly fixed 
for them when they are born. A little cramped 
and frost-bitten on one Bide, a little sun-burnt and 
fortune-spotted on the other, they reach, between 
good and evil chances, such size and taste as gene¬ 
rally belong to men of their calibre; and the small in 
their serviceable bunches, the great in their golden 
isolation, have these no enuso for regret, nor those 
for disdain.— Ruskin. 
- 1 « ♦ i » - 
The Needful Courage. — Whatever you be in 
rank, fortune, or abilities, be not a coward. Cour¬ 
age is the armor of the heart, aud the safeguard of all 
that is good in this world. Not the valor that faces 
the cannon, or braveB the perils of the wilderness and 
wave. That is a useful quality, and much to be 
of adverse judgments, bnt of adverse wills, the con- 
r tradiction of sinners, and let me not bo weary, nor 
faint in my mind. "If any man among you seemeth 
to be religions, and bridleth not hia tongue, bnt 
; deceiveth his own heart, that man’s religion is vain.” 
•— Dr. Chalmers. 
The Divine in Humanity —What so wide, what 
so high, even by the confessions of the mere common 
instincts of humanity, as voluntary sacrifice? Why, 
this, in some mighty operation of it or other, is the 
awakener of all the most blood-stirring enthusiasm, 
and theme of all the most living literature, and thc 
object «r un tne tieiv worship in tho worl/L Willing¬ 
ness Us tuflir and to di» fi.r *act>bt>r'« good, brave 
forgetfulness of self, hearty self-sacrifice,—when men 
ascend to the loftier moods of even their natural feel¬ 
ings, tliis 1* what they know to be tho glory of man. 
And because, in tho atoning work of the blessed 
Redeemer, the power and tbe mercy Bpring from the 
same glorious principle, acting with divine efficacy 
to deliver man from hi* worst enemy, even tho horror 
of sin and its penalties, therefore it is that the croBB 
is the center of the largest and most liberal fellow¬ 
ship known to mankind. They whose faith stands in 
it are knit together in the most catholic brotherhood 
possible. It is love, the largest and freest sentiment 
men ever feel, that joins them. It is usefulness, ser¬ 
vice, love’* proper work, that binds them. It is self- 
sacrifice, what they all admire, that animates them. 
— Church Monthly, 
Obey and \on Shall Know. —Never was there a 
truer or more beautiful saying—as every Christian 
experience will testify—than that of our Savior:— 
“If any man wi.l do my will, he shall know of the 
doctrine.” Obedience opens the heart to the Great 
Teacher, the Holy Spirit, and gives us a practical in¬ 
sight into former mysteries. Not only so, bnt we 
become keenly appreciative of the beauty and har¬ 
mony of all God’s plans, in nature as well as in 
grace. None can bave bave so high an apprecia¬ 
tion of the noble relations of this life, and of God’s 
Many who would not for the world utter a false 
hood, are yet eternally scheming to produce false 
impressions on the minds of others, respecting facts, 
characters, and opinions. 
" I Always Rkmemdkk that 1 Have Boys Away 
from Home!”—S uch was the remark we overheard 
the other night from the lips of an aged mother, who 
addressed a female friend of hers. It had reference 
to oomments that had been upon the conduct of a 
young man who was "away from home.” VYe did 
not see the face of the speaker, but we will wager 
our existence that a great woman’s heart beats under 
her bodice. She always remembered that she hud 
boys away from home. There is a world of tender¬ 
ness and forbearance in this matronly language. It 
would be well in this age of virulent gossip, if all 
mothers would acknowledge the potency of the sim¬ 
ple social law which this mother had written upon 
her heart. Her boys were " away from borne,” and 
subject to the temptations of those upon whom her 
neighbor had passed a merciless judgment. She 
would not so far violate her own instincts as a 
mother as to pass condemnatory sentence on the 
children of any other. 
•—A . 
1 mind and senses delighted, but is still uuRatislied 
8 until he bus imparted to others a knowledge of his 
investigations, or descanted upon the noble efforts of 
l the orator and the sublime productions of the poet, 
i The beautiful is .doubly beautiful to eyes which see 
• other eyes looking upon the same landscape—espe- 
I ciully if the hearts that feel the light of those eyes 
ate concordant and friendly. We are receiving crea¬ 
tures, and imparting creatures; we know nothing of 
| property in thought —we never hoard —we give 
away. We are poor in mind when shut out from 
others. We are rich in mind and rejoice instinct¬ 
ively in its affluence, when thought meets thought, 
and they quarry and build together, or like gleeiuj 
harvesters bind joyfully the sheaves of life. 
How tediously would pass the years of childhood 
were it not for the social affections! What is more 
irksome to a youthful mind than solitude,-to he 
without any with whom to share the amusoments and 
activities of juvenile innocence? Associations judi¬ 
ciously formed in early life, aside from present 
advantages and enjoyment, givo to the mfnd in its 
maturity a memory fragrant with the Good and the 
Pure. We live in the past. The associates of onr 
childhood are the associates of our youth and of our 
manhood, in thoughts from visions of thtnight, when 
deep sleep falleth on us, their images are before onr 
eyes; in the Bilencc, we hear their voices,—wc 
engage again in our school-day sports,—again we 
see the eye sparkle with delight at reunion, and 
moisten with regret at separation. 
There is connected with this subject a pleasing 
thought, which I cannot pass without naming. It is 
the durability of those connections formed on religious 
principles. Tho fashion of this world will pass 
away,— the grandeur of human actions will cease to 
be remembered,— the elements that compose this 1 
beautiful world will be dissolved; but the union of I 
believers, formed in the present, and consummated i 
in the future state, while in tho highest degree i 
tender and endearing, will exist as long as the « 
Throne arousd which the redeemed skull cluster. t 
Rochester, N. Y., June, 1861. T. W. S. \ 
* » v -v —— ■ ••zoav., •* VUJU& nuiiii u ~ v w ut uo fcliUHU rtiJttVlODS, &8 
man may share with his dog. But courage to speak obedient, working Christian_ Advocate and Jour, 
the truth, though it be out of favor and fashion; to --__ 
stand by the right when it is not the winning side; God is ever nkab to the Seeking Heart._ Our 
to give the wrong its true name, no matter what souls ure touched, quickened, purified, oalmed, by 
other people think or say — that is the bravery most the soft beauty of tho spring morning, by the^'al- 
wauted in these days of mucli profession and little i»ost spiritual light” of stars, by the glory of the 
practice. 
-♦ » ♦ ». » - 
Conscience.— There is nothing in the whole frame 
of man which seems to he so unaccountable as that 
thing called conscience. Had the troublesome yelp¬ 
ing cur powers efficient to prevent a mischief, he 
might be of use; but at the beginning of the busi¬ 
ness, his feeble efforts are to the workings of passion 
as the infant frosts of an autumnal morning to the 
unclouded fervor of the rising sun; and no sooner 
are the tumultuous doings of the wicked deed over, 
than, amidst the bitter native consequences of folly, 
in the very vortex of our horrors, up starts con¬ 
science, nnd harrasses us with the feelings of the 
damned.— Robert Bums. 
1 here is a mutual relation existing between ex¬ 
ternal circumstances and inward propensities; the 
latter would not be excited without the former, the 
former would be inoperative without tbe latter. 
Company, books, habitation, pursuits, must all leave 
their impress upon us; but reason, auulogy, Christ, all 
teach us to look chiefly within for the sharacter of the 
man. Out of the heart proceeds the life. If murder, 
adultry, Ac., dwells there, whatever our external 
circumstances, we ripen into devils; and if faith, Jove 
and hope are within, whatever our paths, we mature 
iutoangols,— Dr. Thompson, 
Goon Habits. —There are four good habits—punc¬ 
tuality, accuracy, steadiness, and dispatch. Without 
the first of these, time is wasted; without thesecond, 
mistakes the most hurtful to our own oredit and 
interest, and that of others, may he committed; with 
out the third, nothing can be well done; and without 
the fourth, opportunities of great advantage are lost, 
which it is impossible to recall. 
evening sky, or the grace of the woodland flower; 
by the word of friendly lips, by the noble deed of 
i virtue; by converse with the pure and true; and 
> every sincere word of kindness, every deed of charity 
and self-sacrifice, and every act of fidelity to con¬ 
science; these are all channels for the entrance of a 
Divine influence into our souls. God’s spirit enters 
through them and with them; His spirit of redeem¬ 
ing grace, and of regenerating power. 
Comfort for tur Sick. —Some people imagine 
that they arc not serving God unless they are visiting 
the sick, or engaged in soma outward service; 
whereas tho highest of all service is adoration in the 
sonl. Perhaps God gets more glory by a single 
adoring look of Borne poor believer on a sick-bed, 
than from the outward labors of a whole day. You 
havo your work to do for Christ just where you are. 
Are you on a sick-bed? Still yon have your work to 
do for Christ there, as much a# the highest servant 
of Christ in the world. The smalleit twinkling star 
is as much a servant of God as the mid-day sun. 
Only live for God where you are. — M. Cheyne, 
He who never forgets his old friends and cherishes 
his attachment for them as ever, no matter how 
| much time, space or fortune have kept them apart, 
is one of those rare beings with whom God baa en¬ 
dowed the earth, that society may not utterly wither 
through the influence of iugratituJe, selfishness, and 
thc* incessant changes in life. 
--- * ■ ♦ ■ « -- 
Sr a re Moments. —Spare moments are the gold dust 
of time. Of all the portions of our life, spare mo¬ 
ments are the most fruitful in good or evil. They 
are the gaps through which temptation finds the 
easiest access to the bouI. — Selected. 
