Mies’ department. 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-YorkerJ 
MARY-A HEART HISTORY. 
BY TU. CJRKGO. 
Thoo’lt hear, Estkllb, whilst I a tale reveal 
Of two neared hearts’ histories? 
“I will.” 
! Twas many mnons asro. ere Time and Care 
Had furrow’d o’er this brow, or sprinkled bkow 
Upon these locks. 
Another heart there was, 
WhoBe tendril-chords were hound around mine own. 
As side by side, and hand in band, we tript 
Alonjj Life a road. An Angel came and bound 
Thom closer still; — a cherob form — so bright! 
So innocent! so full of joy! And, oh! 
The bliss it brought! Jt folded Its bright wings 
And sat upon the threshold of our home,— 
And I.ove, and Peace, and Joy, came down and made 
It their abode. The outward world took on 
The peaceful hue that reigned within; the blue 
And overhanging sky look’d bluer still; 
And in ils distant depths there twinkled far 
Those shining orbs, that seem’d like sainted eyes, 
Gazing down upon our happiness. 
Bat 
There came a cloud — a dark and somber cloud. 
It came and cast a pall-like shadow o'er 
The threshold of that home. l)KATu sat upon 
Its crest; and from Its sable folds there came 
A voice of deepest woe — aud those hearts quail’d! 
The Shadow crept Upon the Angel form,— 
And then it droop’d Its golden wings, and closed 
Its mild blue eyes, as if in sleep —and dikd! 
And other angels came and bore it hence 
To Hoav’n. And siuce that hour the shadow stiil 
Lies on that hearth. 
Another —and another — 
Chernb came, and took the place left vacant — 
Each bearing to those dea’late hearts its gift 
Of joy. Long years since then have flown away. 
Those angel forms still dwell within that home 
Aud gild U with the brightness of their wings; . 
Still cheer it with their gushing melodies — 
Tet there the SHADOW rests! And there ’twill rest 
Forever! 
. “ What called ye the earthly name 
Of that bright augel form, that blest ye with 
Its smile?" 
We called it Maky. Wliat its name 
Among the bright wing’d cherubs where’! now- dwells, 
’Tis not for our sad hearts to know. 
Hamilton, HI., 1861. 
•' ~~ ■» -- 
fWritten for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
“YOUNG LADIES.’*-REPLY TO “X.” 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker ] 
OUR NELLIE. 
Hatk they told yon that onr little Nellie was 
1 dead?—our first born?—the quiet, thoughtful little 
girl, with golden hair, and deep blue pensive eyes, 
with a atep like a gazelle, and voice like a summer 
Bong bird?—the little girl whose judgment was so 
mature, that she seemed less % child than woman? 
Have they told you that the little hand*, which had. 
already learned to use the needle bo skillfully, were 
lying idly folded upon her breast, and the willing 
feet which came ao quickly at our bidding, tarried 
long away? Have they told you that the light had 
faded from her sparkling eye, the song hushed on her 
sweet lips; that the little form which we have clasped 
so oft with parental tenderness, was pallid and cold, 
beneath the Autumn leaves? 
Did they tell you that for a few short years we had 
entertained an angel in our household, a cherub with 
hidden wings: that it dwelt among us for a brief sea¬ 
son, performing its little mission of love, and then, 
ere we were aware of it, plumed its pinions, and de¬ 
parted? Did they tell yon of the little sister who is 
so lost without her leader, whose pillow is’louely at 
night, and whose playthings are laid quietly away, 
because there is none to tell her how to use them ? 
Did they tell you that our band was no longer an 
unbroken one, that the brightest link had dropped 
from the shining circlet, and henceforth we should 
look for It In vain? Nay, not in vain. We know 
that sometime we shall find our lost treasure, shall 
greet our lost darling. Lost to earth, but eternally 
saved in the mansions above. We know our little 
one iB blest and happy in her new abode, and yet we 
miss her so much, our home is so lonely without 
her sweet presence, that in anguish of spirit we cry, 
“ Why must onr darling go?” 
“ We know her little heart is glad, some gentle angel guides 
Onr loved one on her joyouB way where'er in Heaven she 
glides. 
Some angel far more wisely kind than ever we could be, 
With all our wild, blind, mortal love, dear Nellis, waits on 
thee, 
And every sweet want of thy heart her care benign fulfills, 
And every whispered wish for us with lulling love she 
stills.” 
And yet we weep. We know that all sorrow and suf¬ 
fering, trials and temptations, which may be in store 
for us, and our remaining little ones, will never, never 
be hers. Still our tears will flow. Heavenly Father, 0l 
help us to say, “ Thy will be done.” oj 
Carlton, N.Y.,1861. Kate Woodland. 
mtt 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
DESOLATION. 
BT MARY O'KBKLB 
Swickt slimmer flowers, with lips of bloom, 
Why shut, your kisses all away? 
My heart with desolation weeps 
Because ye would no longer stay. 
T miss yon in my morning walks, 
Where, fainted, in the leaves of grass, 
Ye hide your pretty faces all 
From looking at me as I pass 
Whilo Meadow-Pinks and Roses wild 
Brought blushes to the cheek of June; 
While fragrant. Rop-Vines gathered grace 
Beneath the soft glance of the moon; 
Ah, then, my life was not so rad; 
For all the tissue of the hours 
Was woven richly with thy hues 
Embalmed with thy sweet breath, 0 Flowers! 
The Dandelion gathered sweets 
And bound them in her yellow hair, 
Caught from the breath of perfumes rich 
That haunt the balls of summer air. 
The Clovcr blooroe played with the breeze, 
Or kissed tbo zephyr’s tender lip, 
The Mosses knit their fringes green 
Where witdwood flowers the dewdrops sip. 
The brown hands of the autumn now 
Are gathering one by one the leaves; 
The farmer-boy that guides the plow 
Has bound the faded corn in sheaves; 
The withered Mullen leans her head 
Despairingly against the wall, 
The Violet has dug her grave,— 
Alas I ’tis desolation all. 
0 haste thy coming, precious flowers, 
My way is dreary, sad and lone; 
No motheiti loving lips to kiss, 
No friendly voice, no cheering tone. 
Then haste thy coming, faithful flowers, 
0 haste, aud with thy presence bless 
The heart of one who may not speak, 
But only feels her loneliness 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
MOONLIGHT IN CAMP. 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] * * , . enjjw • 
EVERY. DAY LIFE. ^OTMIl gjUSWgS. 
BT LEAD PENCIL, ESQ. - - 
• _, ... , ... [Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
There is sadness in the household of Levi I.tvf- __ 
Th, J« 0B , h „ gt J THERES ^AUTY EVERYWHERE. 
The father did not see the use of it when so Thebe s beauty in the silent grove 
many want to go and cannot. He urged Jacob to And in the balmy air- 
stay at home. But madam Lkyi, while she tearfully There's beauty in the sunshine — 
embraced her son with all the clinging affection of a There's beauty everywhere, 
mother, had at the Bame time the true fire of patriot- The merry songster warbling forth 
ism burning in her breast. While she wept over the Hi* sweet, melodious strains, 
necessity, she wrought on the flag for which he has Proclaims to all throughout the earth 
gone to fight. Gouty old Levi give 3 the tender tear- “ The 1 neen of beauty reigns.” 
ful woman all she asks of his gold to fit out the boy, The rivulet, u it glides along 
grumbling at the same time, that the rascally politi- With its trilling, gentle flow, 
cians have brought all this trouble upon ns, and Portrays great joy and loveliness, 
wishing them in perdition, or that they might perish In mnaio 8oft a °d low. 
in place of his son, who has done nothing to bring Through woodlands wild and meadows green 
“this thing” about. It passes daily on; 
Bnt Jacob has the true grit And I do not like to s ° r,n oce . aa,! boun<11 °g wav e is seen, 
use that word “ grit ” either, for while it may be Th< * n ’ '* BOt Wttty won? 
Saxon, and expressive, it does not express what The poplar, in its lofty sway 
should underlie our present patriotism. Grit is not Above companions fair, 
patriotism; neither should the word be used in con- With e rBC * ful triumph, seems to say, 
nection. We battle with our brethren - we for the “ Vm ,ord of earth and air! ” 
principles of our ancestors, for which they battled But what can beauiy here compare 
and bled; they to overthrow those principles and the Wilh thftt w kich reigns above,— % 
moral restraint they impose. On the one side is In grandeur holy, angels fair 
fanaticism run mad; on the other the highest, moral Abld8 wlth p9ace and ,ove - 
courage combined with an abandonment of the arts Arrayed in white, at Jesus’ feet, 
of peace for the art of war —the quiet of home life Witb goM<,n hM J>* among, 
and peaceful avocations for the vigorous discipline of Th n e h * a ? nIy soft and sweet ’ 
the camp and the field. It Is not therefore simply 7 rapturous saint* » sung. 
grit, but the loftiest patriotism that prompt* men who 0h! ma - r we J oln lhttt g'onous throng, 
need not go, to resolve to dissolve all tender ties for Ne er from Chr1st ' s fold to ttra Ji 
the time being and wage war against wrong and its When? baauty dwe11 *' and loTe ’ how Btr0Dgi 
abettors. Through realms of endless day. 
. Antwerp, N. Y., 1861. a o n 
ibis is the remarkable feature of every-day life I _ _ 
record to-day. It has become an every-day matter — 
and no greater security to our institutions need be T t JZ T« T TT ^ New ' Yorfter ] 
offered, and no.-further insurance of the stability of LIFE IS A WEABY PILGRIMAGE.” 
our government need be given. , 1T , 
, n „ , „ , “Ljfk 8 wc ary pilgrimage,” sighs one who has 
lead Pencil, Esq., congratulates himself that he battled hard and long with Its stern realities. “ The 
ives to-day - that be has lived to see this day- that end is glorious,” shouts another, as the glories of the 
ie test has been made in his life, and that the heart Eternal City flashes up on ravished vision. The petty 
of the American People is loyal to truth and right. trials encountered in life’s journey are all fornotten 
The orb of day may burnish the muskets and swords 
of the soldierB, their arms flash in the light and glare 
of noon, but the goddess of night, rising toward 
meridian, causes a Beene in an army far more trans¬ 
cending. Piercing the tissue of silver-lined clouds, 
COUNTRY HOUSES. 
Swiss cottages are picturesque, Kalian villas 
Eternal City flashes up on ravished vision. The petty 
trials encountered in life’s journey are all forgotten. 
“The exceeding and eternal weight of glory” in 
reserve, is about to be realized in all its abundant 
fullness. 
Our pilgrimage here is not bo dear as some would 
COMPENSATION OF FEMALE TEACHERS. the unobscured moon glistens the already fallen dew- country homes- and 
elegant, mansions in the Elizabethan style quaint make it,— there is not a night bo long and dark but 
and striking, but they are by no means comfortable at last the morning breaketh,—there is not a heart bo 
t, i : i ^r:T“rV h ^ 0fl r i y°r , ^ n0W - adad8 of Ia bor required of them; that while in many 
Yorker, instances mental capacities equivalent to those of 
_... ,,, men are demanded, the pay even for the same duties 
vv here in the world have you kentvour«elf all vonr t . ... 
Y ,i . , . K ”P l I° ur8UI 811 your is by no means equal; and yet, while conceding all 
lifo, Mr. \. t that you have imbibed such ftttoatrasrou8 thi a tt . ... 
nnt,*nn v a* a ® touch easier to poittt out the wronir than to 
is certainly' not * 2°'”* ” P™vid« the remedy. The doctrine of compensation 
U "I B ? 8eX - “ A ifl " ot «*«totod by intrinsic values, but by the uni- 
ders whenTe t ^^es,” that “shod- vcml law of demand and supply. Any overbur- 
Btehtll a cow ” BC T*1" ’ w R T”f ^ th ° d0Dfd mu8t ^ necessity be one of depres- 
yonne ladv ” lia is }”ui pic uie o a modern siou; and the market for human labor is not exempt 
* ® * ’ fDAYT1 til/. OAVrtA AA« JOIauh 
T , * -----7 -- -V*v UUI, n Mu WA1C 
It is generally conceded that the compensation of waters of our Potomac with a calm, unwavering 
female teachers is not commensurate to the amount silvery light. 
drop on the army sentinel.'and here she tips the’ £2^ thei/own' 'conT • 8U W 08ed ^ bu ” d ) P8<1 ^ Ut J > V awai . ts H ' Ltt us ' the11 ’ « Ith thankful 
waters of our Potomac with a calm, unwavering 2 dele ^Hon?r "° tt ; <JniCnQe ’. a ' ld not , for ,ht< hear f and "P* tread the pathway marked 
silvery light. 8 ’ 1 delectation of landscape painters, plain folk out for ns, neither wishing nor expecting it ever 
You seem to like plain English, and so do I, and 
now, Air. X., please allow tue to say a few words that 
may possibly relieve your mind of some very false 
impressions. In the first place, us far as the girlhood 
of our mothers and grandmothers is concerned, I 
prefer to know nothing about it, save what 1 have 
heard from others. 1 have no doubt, that you do, for 
the lives of old bachelor# are often traced back to an 
incalculable distance. Therefore, I accept your ver¬ 
sion of wliftt used to be, without comment. Aston¬ 
ishing as it may seem to you, these fashionable 
“ compounds ” of whom you speak, never existed out¬ 
side of a novel. In some of our large cities there 
may bo a few ladies whose lives are entirely devoted to 
fashion and pleasurtj, bnt these are a rare exception 
instead of a general rule. Why, Mr. X.,” the world 
is full ol noble, self-sacrificing women, and not alone 
those advanced in years, er in middle life, but 
“young ladies,” who are a constant blessing to those 
around them. 
What are the loyal women of America doing to¬ 
day? Go where you will throughout the length and 
breadth of the laud, and you will find busy fingers 
and willing hearts, preparing comforts for tlie sick 
and suffering of our army, while narrow-souled men, 
who read their papers beside a cheerful hearthstone, 
and wonder why our Generals don’t do something, 
frown aud draw their purse-strings a little tighter 
each time they are invited to assist in this noble 
enterprise. And who, I would ask you, possesses 
the truer horoism,— he who nobly takes his life in his 
hand, and goes to witness the suite, the confusion, 
aud excitement of battle, or the mother, wife, or 
Bister, who takes his hand and bids him go forth to 
duty, or even to death, for the defence of truth and 
liberty, while she stays in the desolated home with 
an agonizing suspense weighing down her life? 
The “sphere" of woman’s action may be called 
small, or limited; but in her quiet, unostentatious 
manner, she is wielding an influence in the world 
that speculative, fault-findiug specimens of the mas- . 
culiue gender never dream of. And will this influ¬ 
ence cease when our mothers are gone? Never! 
“ Young ladies ” are rapidly taking their place, and 
the end of time only will close their usefulness and i 
toil. ' 
^our advice to young men is very sensible com¬ 
pared with the other things you said; but do you J 
suppose they will heed it? You need not think of f 
such a thing. There never was a •• pretty little crea- t 
ture with suit white bauds, and just brains enough < 
to dress and flirt, that could not boast (?) scores of , 
admirers with just about as much sense as herself, y 
who consider her an angel, and who would go g 
through fire and water to serve her. r 
Now, just one word of advice to you, Mr. X., and a 
1 will relieve your patience. Hid farewell to the r 
trashy romances that give you such false ideas, v 
shoulder your musketlike a man, and tjike your place 
among those who are gallautly fighting for home and a 
country, leaving the “young ladies” to do their t 
‘ it is much easier to point out the wrong than to 
provide the remedy. The doctrine of compensation 
is not regulated by intrinsic values, but by the uni¬ 
versal law of demand and supply. Any overbur¬ 
dened market must of necessity be one of depres¬ 
sion; and the market for human labor is not exempt 
from the same conditions. 
Even the pay of the male teachers, especially in 
times of mercantile depression, is not uofrequently 
affected by an active competition; yonng lawyers 
without clients, doctors without patients, engineers 
on suspended lines of unfinished railroads, with the 
thousand students, theological, medical, legal, and 
scientific, who must do something to aid them in 
their pecuniary embarrassments, and help themselves 
around a sharp angle in the rugged road they have 
chosen, come in competition with the professional 
teacher, and cut down his wages, richool commit¬ 
tees do not often enough inquire whether or not the 
applicant is a professional instructor predicating his 
suooess in life upon hi« merits in that direction, but 
rather who can be obtained to do the work for the 
least money. 
If this is the case with men amid all the countless 
varieties of employment to which they are permitted 
to resort, how much more potent mast he the depres- 
sing influences upon the narrow channels of female 
labor? Preach as we may about the dignity of labor 
and the importance of domestic employment, even 
moderately educated American women will not sub- 
mit to the drudgery and contumely of domestic 
service. As a consequence, the ignorant and too 
Often vicious servant is brought into disastrous con¬ 
tact with our children in the most dangerous and 
impressible period of their lives; while the older 
sister or the maiden aunt withdraws herself from her 
own appropriate sphere, to pick up a livelihood in 
one to which she may bo wretchedly adapted. She 
will declare in all seriousness, when free from 
restraint, that “she hates school-teaching more than 
poison;’ and that “ she had as lieves bo in jail as in 
a school-room any time;” but then what is she to do 
for a living if she does not teach? There i 3 nothing 
else for her to turn her hand to unless it is to go into 
domestic service, and sooner than do that she would 
starve! Hence the rank of female teachers is filled 
soft and velvety for onr weary feet, nor flower bor¬ 
dered and canopied with fragrant vines. It is not 
often that our way winds through verdant fields, 
beside flower-margined streams, reflecting only clear 
and sunny skies; but when it docs, shall we, though 
In primitive warfare, armies, unlike our age, rushed srives awav n -7 ^ , Bt ° W them ‘ 8dft and Ve,Vtty for onr wf ' 8 ry feet, nor flower bor- 
to battle unencumbered with baggage or with many r eL„ ilobdonsit Til Tf / J' 1 " 1 H '“ d Canopied with fra « rant viuC8 ' 11 is 
rations. The country through which their march rZll hurt. „ , ■ f ? ’ , 7 “ [ , Whlda throu « h verdant 
was taken must furnish them with subsistence, and ^“ahousowKh se .77 Z* f \f mcrack house b< *' de "^"-margined streams, reflecting only clear 
when night's curtain fell over the earth, the ground sidereiTaT^ ^ T V™** 1 "'* but when il doC8 ’ sha11 we - 
must be their bed. Strange as it may appear it is b 7 J 7 T r \ d Bat,t,sno th * B, "‘ r l) thorns of care, ever lurking among the cine- 
enrions to observe bow a perfection in tlie7!-t of arms | h g ' c k ' nd of fewiss cottages are not tenng flowers, rend onr flesh, impatiently tear up the 
in modern times causes a return to the simple practices y 0 ™'?* floW * r * and d8sh!n « them the spark- 
fifhi.ii.i-i... j ... . * , 1101 U1C re >ffOlng style in Italy. No matter—they ling stream, murmur because the broken mirror 
were provided with touts- anTnow a e'ar^ aFtoniHh “ lhc ruIg,ir; “ aild to accomplish that great reflects not cloudless skies and Rmiling fields? Ah 
end, the Would Bc’a of the world are willing to submit no; let u, .11 „d p..„ t 
appears from one valley in tin, morning, ami mid¬ 
den ly re-ajipears in another at night, as if by the 
magician's art. It may seem magic-like, but still it is 
only accomplished by a heavy outlay of time and toil. 
Napoleon, whose banner waved in triumph over so 
many bloody fields, and who revolutionized every¬ 
thing in war, revolutionized this. He left the cu-mps 
and the long lino of heavily loaded wagons behind. 
His soldiers built their fires where they halted, — the 
foragers sweeping the country meanwhile for pro¬ 
visions,— supper and bed were improvised beside 
the blaze, and in the morning at beut of the drum 
and the bugle’s blast, the army rose to its feet as one 
man, ready for the march or the charge. There was no 
cainp equipage for them to take care of, and the legions 
of the conqueror were upon the sleeping enemy while 
lie was rubbing bis eyes and preparing biB breakfast. 
Napoleon’s innovations were imitated by the rest of 
continental Europe, and the night bivouac particu¬ 
larly has become the practice of all modern, armies 
that find quick and unencumbered movements neces¬ 
sary and advantageous. It is this, and this alone, 
that has made Major General McClellan the idol of 
the North. To me there is something picturesque 
and sublime in it. At early eve to-night I went to 
the hill’s summit with a soldier friend, to observe. 
The long lines of fires flickering and glowing in tbc 
partial darkness; t.be gronps of tired soldiers; their 
free and easy attitudes, their arms on the ground by 
their sides ready to be cungbt up at any moment; the 
simple fare, the men cooking their slipper (what else 
can 1 name it, although it is being prepared aud 
eaten at all hours,) the long, stretching shadows and 
much personal inconvenience. them in the heart’s richer soil; for soon-ah, how 
Of course, reader, you have been in a Swiss cottage H00rj we know not — the rosy-hued flowers of joy will 
. A .... • . y HM A . ^ oil ,1(aav>iu,a.. b ♦!... . J J 
on the American plan. There are so many of them an disappear, anJ even tin* pure wtnte onto ui uupe 
in tbc country, that, if you have any rural friends begin to droop and die, as wo climb with torn and 
of a tasteful turn, you must have seen the inside of bleeding feet the steep und rocky heights, vainly 
one. Are they not nice places to inhabit, with their 
swclteriqg attic dormitories, and their baby-house 
parlors, and their narrow labyrinthine passages and 
stairways? How the fresh air, let in at the door and 
windows, ever finds its way through their intricacies, 
is a mystery. The Italian villas are not much better, 
though a trifle less like Chinese puzzles in their 
internal architecture. Both seem to have been con¬ 
structed under the supervision of a I’rdfessor of 
Inconvenience, for the occupation of families who 
like to live in bandboxes. 
There are other styles of fashionable country 
seeking some shade wherein to rest onr pain-racked 
frames; while hotter grow the scorching sand-, 
fiercer glows the mid-day sun; yet on and on we haste; 
no sparkling streams appear, or cool, invitiDg shades; 
still ever on wc press, with hearts that stronger grow, 
us watered by our tears the flowers of joy, long since 
passed, bloom anew witb richer fragrance, in the 
gurden of the heart” 
Fear not, fellow traveler, though thy pilgrimage be 
so long that thy frame tremble with weariness, the 
brilliant eye grow dim, and tbe dark flowing locks 
whiten with icy spray from Time’s boundless ocean 
dT wd “ ,“'77 u» uu 6 uu nor envy tlie - r ^ in the lmt> T , h 
the background of darkness, who could help bnt i j, , .. _ f ® 
„ „ „„ . 1 humorodly as they pass Mr. Snch-a-one’s 
call all this sublime? Ihcn the vast multitude slum- . ■ . , , . 
, . , . .... " “folly, •’ and appreciate more keenly than ever, the 
Bering as one man; only the sentinels with measured „» a.- .. , . 
... ir) ... . . , . comtorts of their own more simple and convenient 
tread pacing on their heat and keeping watch, the 1 
trees sheltering some, and some rolled in their blan- 
edifices, belonging t.o several carious dis -orders of r ”Hing near thy Iravel-staine^ feet. Ay, this shall be 
architecture, which are still more objectionable— the better part of thy journey—not, as represented by 
conglomerations of spires, peaked roofs, battlements, teany, the most dark nnd comfortless—but like the 
cupolas, aud turrets, the sight of which would have Serious closing of a beautiful summer day when all 
thrown Inigo Jones or Sir Christopher Wren into loveliness our eyes have seen is concentrated and 
convulsions. Some of these concerns are as full of reflected through the golden clouds that gather at 
involutions as Milton’s Paradise Lost; bo corupli- “the portals of the West.” F. M. Turner. 
cated, in fact, that one cannot think straight in one Oxford, N. Y., 1861. 
of them. Yet the owners fancy they are wonders of * ‘ * 
ingenuity; and bo, in fact, they are, but the ingenuity OUR OWN FAULTS, 
has been misapplied. 
The grand object of putting up such fol-de-rol Lkt us not be over-carious about tbe failings of 
habitations is to make common-place outsiders stare. ot,bers ’ but take acc ount of our own; let us bear in 
Bat they do not attract the admiration of our shrewd mind the excelle nces of other men, while we reckon 
yeomanry, nevertheless. Tbe proprietors of substan- our °' vn fa ulta, for then shall we be well-pleaa- 
tial, roomy farm houses, built for comfort and not 10 ^' or ht#who looks at the faults of others, 
for show, do not covet these fantastic tabernacles, and a * kis own excellences, is injured iu two ways; 
--- - - — o “J « VAIVU m • a mvn MKHJ* 
to repletion with incompetent members, depressing kete, lie under tbe stars. Thousands are all around 
the compensation even of the better class to the 
minimum limit, and affecting disastrously all the 
substrata of our educational system. 
One of the most painful duties imposed upon our 
Boards of Education is the selection of teachers from 
the throng of applicants pressing their claims for 
appointment often even with tears. Within the 
writer’s own knowledge, during the present fall, for 
four vacancies iu the public schools of a single city 
me now dreaming,—6ome of home and a run through 
tbe mazes of childhood,—some of battle and victory,— 
some of partings that were painful, and of the “fare- 
thee-well.’" which seemed the death-kuell to all their 
fondest, brightest hopes. 
Hut listen. Imagine, as I vividly can, the “long 
roll" being beaten, the sudden trumpet blast, and all 
the host of firm and noble freemen around me rising 
from the earth—the commands “ march,” “charge,” 
there were over ninety candidates who filed papers the fight, the terrible thundering of cannon, the 
of application. Nor is this by any means a solitary 
instance. The same state of things exists every¬ 
where throughout the States; and under such circum¬ 
stances, resolving “that female teachers do not 
receive sufficient compensation,” will accomplish 
about as much in remedying the uvil as the ninth 
resolution of the late Democratic Mate Convention 
will aid iu putting down rebellion. 
We must draw off the surplus labor into other and 
appropriate channels. Woman must consent to fill 
dwellings. 
A square two or three story house, with spacious 
halls running through each story, and ample piazzas 
on every side, is tbe country house to live in. Per¬ 
sons who ereet dwellings merely to astonish the 
natives, regardless of interior discomfort, will of 
course continue to patronize the fantastic at the 
expense of tbe agreeable. 
USEFUL CAUTIONS. 
If a man asks you to go his security, say “No,” 
and run; otherwise you may be enslaved for life, or 
your wife and children may spend a weary existence, 
in want, sickness and beggary. 
If you find yourself in possession of a counterfeit 
note or coin, throw it, into the fire on the instant; 
and whistle of death taking the place of fond dreams a run; otnerwise I ou ma I be enslaved for life, or ‘ -- 
m less time than I can pen it. fl'his is but one of the y0Ur and cb '' dren m ayspend a weary existence, With Jesus. —It is the privilege of believers to 
mutations of a soldier’s life. Some of them love it— in want, sickness and beggary. be with the Savior. Though it be true that He has 
love it deeper as they realize what they are fighting K y° u find yourself in possession of a counterfeit been received up into glory, still may He be ap- 
for. May the same Heaven that cheered our fathers noto or coin, throw it into the fire on the instant; proached in llis spiritual presence. Though Hebe 
in the days of the revolution be with our army and otherwise you may be tempted to pass it, and may invisible, yet is He accessible. And His people 
OUR OWN FAULTS. 
Let us not be over-carious about the failings of 
others, but take account of our own; let us bear in 
mind the excellences of other men, while we reckon 
up our own faults, for then shall we be well-pleas¬ 
ing to God. For h^wlio looks at the faults of others, 
and at his own excellences, is injured iu two ways; 
by the latter he is carried up to arrogance, through 
the Ibrmer he falls into listlessness. For when he 
perceives that 6uch an one hath sinned, very easily 
he will sin himself: when he perceives be hath in 
aught excelled, very easily he becometh arrogant. 
He who consigns to oblivion bis own excellences, 
and looks at his failings only, while he is a curi¬ 
ous engineer of the excellences, not the sins, of 
others, is profitable in many ways. Aud how? I 
will tell you. When he sees that such an one hath 
done excellently, he is raised to emulate the same; 
when he sees that he himself hath sinned, he is 
rendered humble and modest. If we act thus, if we 
thus regulate ourselves, we shall be able to obtain 
the good things which we are promised through the 
loving kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ.— 1St, 
Chrysostom. 
- 4 • ♦ • «- 
With Jesus.—I t is the privilege of believers to 
be with the Bavior. Though it be true that He has 
been received up iuto glory, Btill may He be ap¬ 
proached in His spiritual presence. Though He be 
navy, soldier and seaman, in these days of disloyalty 
and disunion. E. A. Percy. 
Fort Ellsworth, Fairfax Co., Va., 1861. 
A life well spent, a character uprightly sustained, 
part aite yours teo if you have n and °ha ve 2Z 1 ^ ^ A ™ Wel1 ^ a character uprightly sustained, 
faith tout you will return a “ wisez and better man ” I" 1 fl’t 7 “7 7 0 > e P ° Siti ° n ' ** no slight le gacy to leave to one's children, and to 
Pike, N.Y., 1861 . Frkdkkjka Fkmvood . nd 1 tbe “ Selve8 fur lt - She must Dot sl «p to the world; for it is tbe most eloquent lesson of 
user and better man.’ 
Fkkdxkika Fkxwood. 
puss it, to feel mean therefor as long as you live; 
then it may pass into some man’s hands as mean as 
yourself, with a new perpetration of iniquity, the 
loss to fall eventually on some poor struggling widow 
whose “all” it may be. 
Never laugh at the mishaps of any fellow mortal. 
The very instant yon perceive yourself in a passion, 
avail themselves of the blessed possibility of inter¬ 
course witb Him. They are with Him as pupils to 
learn the lessons of His grace; as sheep for which 
He died, and whom He protects and preserves, and 
leads into green pastures: as soldiers whom, as the 
captain of their salvation, He is bringing into eternal 
glory; as servants with their master, and followers 
to a high-minded, virtuous woman, in the midst of 
sorrow and misfortunes, than the recollection of the 
conduct of her sex under similar circumstances. 
When encompassed by dangers, difficulties, or death, 
women have continued to adhere witb fidelity to 
their husband’s fortunes under every vicissitude. 
Home can never be transferred, never be repeated 
in the experience of an individual. The place con¬ 
secrated on parental love by the innocence and sports 
of childhood is the only home of the human heart. 
inquire m hether or not any vi oman has ever filled the virtue, and the severest reproof of vice, while it con- 6 hut your month; this is one among the beBt precepts with their leader. They are with Him in the closet 
place before, hut whether she is competent to fill it tinues an enduring source of the best kind of riches, outside of inspiration. and sanctuary; with Him by prayer, praise, and 
herself ; and if so, step boldly into the position; for Well for those who can sav as Pnpe did, in rejoinder ^k e 111,111 who always exacts the last cent is alwavs meditation on llis word, which reveals Him to their 
Nothing can convey more consolation and support f ! "7 1 if* J 9 C0 “P etenl t0 fil1 n tln “cs an enduring source of the best kind of riches, 
a high-minded, virtuous woman, in the midst of d * 8 °' *7- p0s,tl0n; for ftre11 for ,hose who can sa - v 89 P»I'e did, in rejoinder 
rrow and misfortunes, than the recollection of the *7 Wb ° ° P ! DS * new , held lor fe “ a,e «“Plojn»ent, 18 to the sarcaans of Lord Hervey - “ I think it enough 
ndnet of her sex under similar circumstances. ‘ of a J neen] J’ cr0W11 - " he ® 8 diminution that my parents, such as they were, never cost me a 
hen encompassed by dangers, difficulties, or death ,7 8UPP 7 ° f ^“7 teadh '‘ r6 ,0 7° Bl t " al WaBt8 blDBh ’ “ ud that lheir B0D ' fiuch 88 he is - never cost 
>men have continued to adhere witb fidelity to of tbe community is elected by detailing the surplus them a tear.”- Smiles's Self-Help. 
eh husband’s fortune, muter ^ t0 D, ' b * r respectable employments, then- -* - 
and not before —will our female friends in the pro- Some are so censorioas as to advance, that those 
fession receive the adequate compensation.— E. W., who have discovered a thorough knowledge of all the 
m A. F. Teacher. depravity ol the human heart, must he themselves 
" **■•■* ' depravoa; but this is about as wise as to allirii: that 
Persons good for apologies are commonly good every physician who understanas a uisease, mus„ be 
for nothing else. himself diseased. 
a mean man; there is no “evacuant” in all the souls; with Him in the gospel, of which He is the 
“Materia Medioa” efficient enough to “purge” him light and glory; and with Him in His ordinances, 
of his debasement; he is beyond druggery. where He meets, banquets, and blesses His people. 
Never affect to be “plain” or “blunt;” these are -*- 4 • * 
the synonyms of brutality and boorishness. Such Criticism of Preachers. —“ I would have no one 
persons are constantly inflicting wounds which criticise a sermon,” said Samuel Drew, “til! he had 
neither time nor medieine can ever heal. attempted to preach one. After you have attempted 
Never be witty at another’s expense; true generos- to address a congregation, you will better understand 
ity never dwelt in such a heart; it only wants the a preacher’s sensations and difficulties. Andremem 
•opportunity to beoome a cheat or rogue.— Hall's ber this in all your criticisms: the hand that cannot 
Journal of Health. build a hovel may demolish a palace.” 
