THE LITTLE COAT. 
I hatk a little velvet coat, with trimmings plaided bright, 
That has beep laid for years away, close folded out of sight; 
Yet sometimes, when I chance to come where it has been so 
long, 
The silken edge looks dim and blurred, because my tears are 
strong. 
The last time that I took it down, because the need was o’er. 
I found the pocket* full of toys that would be used no more; 
The little bit* of colored glass a»d tinsel paper lay 
Folded together with tho coat, and so—1 let them stay. 
Of all tho traces that are left, reminding of tho post, 
This touches nearest t* the quick, because ho wore it last; 
And often times the little arms were crossed upon its breast, 
That n%vor more will claap me here, because they are at rest. 
Without tho littlo tender form, this coat I cannot see 
Something in every worn down fold recalls it back to me; 
And though his every garment now is sacred to my heart, 
From this, the pocket* filled by him, 1 could Dot bear to part. 
My little boy no longer needs bis coat with trimmings bright, 
For, Bince I bad it laid away, his robes have been of white; 
So, when I meet him at the last, my longing eyes may see 
The little band that placed the toys held out ugain to me. 
Portsmouth Journal. 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
WISDOM’S PEARLS. 
“Straws swim upon the surface ; but pearls lie at the 
bottom.” 
Tkck worth, true excellence, can never be acquired 
without labor,—hard, steady, persevering labor. 
When 8ir Isaac Nkwton was asked how he had suc¬ 
ceeded in making so many great discoveries, he 
replied, “By thinking.” Not in each musing or 
fedreaming as many school girls love to indulge; hut 
^in deep, profound thought,—“ by thinking,” Baid tho 
great Philosopher, By diving to tho bottom of the 
aea called Knowledge, and gathering what?— strawB? 
No, they are on the surface for the frivolous and 
unthinking; but pearls, ne# gems of truth and great 
worth, that have shone and will shine with an ever 
enduring brilliancy through all future generations, 
and which have rendered the illustrious name of 
Nem’tok a pearl and star of the first magnitude. 
What a leBBon is here presented for the student. 
What a noble example to encourage the young to 
adorn their minds with the pearls of wisdom and 
knowledge, which will shine and grow more fair and 
beautiful through the never-ending ageB of eternity. 
It should be our aim to cultivate and discipline our 
minds on high and worthy objects, that we may grow 
wise and better prepared to meet, life with all Its 
changes. If we so exercise our brain to think,— if 
we study with the desire und purpose of understand¬ 
ing,— if we dirt through our books, not skim over 
them,—what will be oar reward? Will we he pre¬ 
pared to take our place in society, with u brain as 
empty and a mind as light and hollow as the straws 
that swim upon the surface?—or will we he honored, 
respected, and loved, for the pearl* of thought and 
intelligence it may bo ours to gather, if we will? 
How beautiful, how truly captivating is an Intel¬ 
lectual woman. We love her for her goodneS* We 
respect and admire her noble character, W^tiow nt 
the shrine of her intellect. We delight to alt at her 
feet and learn the lessons of truth and thlNijutles of 
life. ’ % 
We love and revere the honored names of Humans, 
Sigourney, and Stowe. And why? Because their 
minds, like pearls of the sea, sparkle with luster 
made luminous and shluin-g by the brilliant achieve¬ 
ment of deep thought. They gathered pearls. Ah, 
yes, says one, bui they were highly endowed with 
talent and genius. Very true. Suppose, however, 
they had laid it away in a napkin, or wasted time 
over the latest lakhion, turned all their attention and 
thought, as very many ladies do, upon dress, jewelry 
and gew-gaws. Would their names stand honored 
and distinguished, praised by the great and noble of 
our land, if they had spent all their time talking and 
prattling over the silly and incessant theme —dress 
and the “ latest style?” We believe and approve of 
ladies dressing neatly and becomingly. But we do 
not believe in spending all our time ornamenting and 
adorning our person, which will soon moulder to 
dust, and neglecting the mind, which is immortal. 
We will render our life here pleasant and useful, if 
we rightly improve our time, talent aud opportuni¬ 
ties—if we gather pearls instead of straws. 
In reading the life of Mrs. Hemanb we learn that 
she was a thinking, studious scholar. “ 81ie studied 
early and late, her whole life long.” And critics 
have in no respect rendered her fuller justice thau in 
noticing her astonishing progress, indicated by her 
successive productions. Here we have a beautiful 
example of what a studious, persevering mind can 
accomplish. Let us follow her example, and ever 
bear in mind that 
“ Errors like straws upon the surface flow, 
He who would search for pearls must dive below.” 
Agnes Patterson. 
Gainesville Seminary, N. Y., 1861. 
- 1 ■ » ■ 4 - 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
ASSOCIATIONS. 
• How much of the habits and peculiarities of the 
man the associations of the child are responsible for. 
The associations of the youth stamp and mold the 
character of the man, proving “there is a destiny 
which shapes our end9.” Associations by which we 
are surrounded, aud grow np among, must and will 
leave their influence and effect visible through all 
our life, whether for good or evil, ennobling and 
elevating, or lowering and degrading. Criminal 
confessions, the evidence from the House of Correc¬ 
tion, almost always point to the influence of evil 
associations in youth, leading gradually on to deeper 
crimes and darker deeds. Our Asylums, Jails, and 
Penitentiaries, are peopled with those whom the vile 
influence of vicious associations, continued in and 
grown stronger with maturer years, have at last 
placed there. Just as surely as the handling and 
being among coal will blacken, begrim, and soil 
one’s clothes aud hands, so most assuredly will the 
frequenting and mingling with evil, vile, and dirty 
associations, blacken and soil the native purity of 
character, the upward and elevating tendency of 
thought, corrupt and taint good manners and good 
morals, and hear downward in all its degrading force, 
with weight and rapidity, gaining velocity in its 
descent until we shudder and fear to think to what 
base depths of infamy its ill-fated, infatuated victim 
will be brought Educate the hoy in tho bar-room, 
and the man is lobby-member to a bar-room, versed 
i in bar-room tactics and logie, skilled in slang phrases 
and loafer lore. Cards, racing, prize-fighting, all 
leave their degrading tendency deeply stamped. 
Circns and theatre acting have an influence anything 
but good and ennobling, and educate the frequenter 
* 
in a way not likely to command bis own or his neigh¬ 
bor’s confidence or respect. School the boy in the 
course or ring, and the man is a gambler, learned in 
BilliDgBgate, will tell the champion of the last fight, 
when and where the next will be, aud if not a knave, 
it’s a miracle. 
Equally powerful and certain to the promotion and 
healthy action of elevated thought, noble deeds, and 
purity of principle, are the associations of the good 
and pure, the wise and just. Surrounded only by 
such associations, Htrictly avoiding all that have a low 
or degrading tendency, can but be conducive to the 
attainment of the highest moral perfection possible 
for poor human nature to reach. Keep the boy at 
home under good influence, Bee that hiR teacherB are 
what they should be, bis studies of a right nature to 
interest and instruct, while they ever inculcate and 
set forth the satisfaction, benefit, and power of right 
actions and good deeds, and Bhow the wrong in a 
true light, and the roan will he one you are proud to 
name among your friends, and honor and respect are 
sure to follow him. Ben Burdock. 
THE BENEFIT OF SUNLIGHT. 
When that glorious and good man, Sydney Smith, 
used to go down Into his breakfast room with his 
great heart full of humanity and love, and he found 
the blinds let down, he used to call for the servant 
and hid him “ glorify the room.” Beautiful thought 
to let in the glory of God—the life-giving sun- with¬ 
out whose rays darkness and death would forever 
have wrapped the earth in her sable pall, and night, 
dark night, brooded over this now joyous and dancing 
sphere; the cot of the huiubleBt peasant rejoices in 
thy Bmile, while the proudest of the earth can claim 
no more. 
Who that has ever entered a modern New York par¬ 
lor, with Its gaudy curtaitis and vulgar gilt capitals; 
who that remembers with childish joy the sunlight as 
it glances back to his delighted eye the colors of the 
flying bird; who that has mournfully looked on his 
declining ray as it lighted up a mother’s grave with 
hope of a future life, but has felt the sickening false¬ 
ness of this miserable condition which we call fash¬ 
ion? Every living creature, except the eyeless fish 
of the great caves, instinctively eceks the light. 
Physiologists have proved (hat It is not only the 
moral influence of sunlight that preserves ns in 
health, bat its positive loss from the blood which 
develops tubercles in the lungs of cellar-imprisoned 
rabbits, and in parrots, cats, and other animals. 
Even the potato stretches forth its 8iekly and watery 
shoots toward the earth burrowed window, to catch 
a ray of tho great life-giver; arrived at its health 
giving power, its juices thicken; it assumes its natu¬ 
ral color; and even while its source is dying of 
wasting vegetable scrofula, its leaves spread forth and 
ask of Nature aud Nature’s God to save them from 
decay. “ Glorify the room!” 
A littlo flock of fancy pigeons, with which we have 
been wont to divert ourselves, have sensibly failed in 
cheerfulness, and their productiveness decreased more 
than half since they were deprived of the sunlight. 
It is well known among Naturalists that this bird is 
liable to scrofula, and several of ours have died from 
tubercular lungs and scrofulous abscesses, their diet 
and treatment being very varied, and similar to what 
it was before they were deprived of the sun, when 
they were in perfect health and bred abundantly. 
If the sun lie the source of all life and power; if 
without him, the heart cannot contract and expand 
with the proper amount of power intended at birth, 
according to the organic law impressed on every 
living creature, what must bo tho effect of its depriva¬ 
tion during so many hours each day on a young 
woman while immured in a city parlor, or darkened 
chamber? 
We all feel the gloom and oppressiveness of a 
house on which the sun does not Bhine; tho farmer 
builds his barn if possible fronting south-east, be¬ 
cause he knows hie cows will give more milk in 
winter, and his hens lay more eggs. The gardener 
can raise nothing in his hot-beds without sunlight, 
and the orchard produces no well ripened apples 
without it; they lack color and are insipid. So will 
your checks, dear girl, become blanched, your form 
attenuated, your appetite feeble, and perhaps an 
early death follow your contempt for this great law 
of God; hotter even that, than yon should insure 
tubercular lunga or weak hip joints and spines to 
wretched and deformed offspring.— The Scalpel. 
Fashionable Disease.— The day when it was con¬ 
sidered interesting and lady-like to he always ailing 
has gone by. Good health, fortunately, is the fashion. 
A rosy cheek is no longer considered “ vulgar,” and 
a fair, shapely allowance of flesh on the bones is con¬ 
sidered the “style.” l’erhaps the great secret that 
good looks cannot exist, without goed health, may 
have had something to do with the care now taken to 
obtain it; whether this be so or not, future genera¬ 
tions are the gainers all the same. A languid eye 
and a waxy, bloodless complexion may go begging 
now for admiration. The elegant stoop in the shoul¬ 
ders formerly considered so aristocratic, has also 
miraculously disappeared. Women walk more and 
ride less; they have rainy day suits of apparel, too, 
which superfluity was never known to exist afore¬ 
time, sunshine being the only atmosphere in which 
the human butterfly was supposed to float. In short, 
“the fragile women of America” will cease to exist 
only in the acid journal of some English traveler, 
who will, of course, stick to the by-gone fact as still 
present reality, with a dogged pertinacity known only 
to that amiable nation. 
Hasty Marriages. —The New York Tribune makes 
the following sensible remarks on the subject of 
hasty marriages: 
There is not a city, there is scarcely a township, 
which does not number among its inhabitants women 
who have married on very short acquaintance, only 
to be abused, deserted, and left a burden and a life¬ 
long sorrow to the families in which they were born 
and reared, and which they most imprudently aud 
improperly deserted to share the fortunes of rela¬ 
tive strangers. If young ladies would realize how 
grossly indelicate, as well as culpably reckless, such 
marriages appear in the eyes of the observing, they 
surely would forbear. A year’s thorough acquaint¬ 
ance, with the most circumstantial accounts, from 
disinterested and reliable witnesses, of the antece¬ 
dents from childhood, are the very least guarantee 
which any woman who realizes what marriage is, will 
require of a stranger. Even then, if her parents are 
not fully satisfied as well as herself, she should still 
hesitate. Marriage is an undertaking in which no 
delay can be so hazardous as undue precipitation. 
The Lady. —The aim of a real lady is always to be 
natural and unaffected, and to wear her talents, her 
accomplishments, and her learning, as well as the 
newest and finest dresses, as if she did not know she 
had them about her. 
euea: 
(SMst 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
THE WOODS. 
I lovk the trees that rear so bold 
Toward the skies their stately beads, 
Although their robes of trreen and gold 
Lie withered on the ground and dead, 
And the wild hard* their festal hymns 
No longer warble on their limbs. 
With roots and branches joined they stand, 
And tike a brother-band appear, 
Who lift to heaven their countless hands 
In prayers which Nature deign* to hear; 
And soon their verdant robes will bring 
Upon the balmy breeae of Bpring. 
They're teachers, who, with magic force, 
The heart In willing bondage biud, 
And stamp tbp ethic* of their source 
Upon the tablet of the mini!, 
And ever heavenward raise the rod 
To point US to the home of God. 
Lowville, N. Y., 1861. C. V 
M i 
0¥. 30. a 
C. M. D. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
MIND vs. METAL. 
“ A man’s a man for a' that. " 
I beg your pardon, Mr. Nambv Pamby, or whatever 
your name may be, hut did I understand yon to say 
that you oould’nt he anybody because you were 
poor, —that you possessed talent enough to have 
been a great man, If yon had had money enough? If 
you did make that low-minded remark, and meant it, 
I have only to say that you ought to be ashamed of 
yourself. Don’t, for goodness sake, look me in the 
face, and repeat it; for if yon do not blush at it, I do 
for you. Good Heavens! has’nt a poor man eyes? 
hasn’t a poor man “hands, organs, dimensions, 
senses, affections, passions? — hurt with the same 
wcapous, subject to the same diseases, healed by the 
same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter 
and summer” as the rich man is? What are you 
talking about, and what do yon mean, if yon have any 
meaning? Must the bare fact that somebody's barns 
are better filled than yours, that somebody’s farm is 
bigger, that Bomebody’B railroad stocks bring larger 
dividends, that somebody’s coffers are nearer full, or 
his money-bags are heavier, prove, for one moment, 
that Mr. Somerody is a better man, or is able to 
make himself a really greater man than you are? 
“Poor but prond,” I have heard people say, as 
though the two adjectives were incongruous. I 
would like to know why a poor man shouldn’t he 
proud as well aB anybody else, especially if he has 
brains, and more especially if he's got a generous 
soul and a clear conscience, — which attributes our 
modern Crespsks, for the most part, have not. 1 
never feel ashamed of a poor man, until I find out he’s 
ashamed of himself, merely because of his poverty, 
and then I get worse than ashamed of him,— I pity 
him,—pity him very much as I do a poor, grovelling 
worm, that obtrudes itself across the path of my 
morning walk,—pity him because be hasn't any soul. 
If you have the Bpirit of a man in you, Mr. Namby, 
stand np and let the world know it,—let people know 
that a man can he a man without being gilded,— let 
them know that you value yourself for yourself, and 
not for your having, or not having, gold about you. 
Never, if you wish to respect yourself, or have any 
one else do it, never, T pray you, condescend so low ; 
as to fawn and cringe about the feet of a rich nabob j 
because he happens to have more title-deeds and 
bank notes than yen have. The things that I respect 
in a man, and am willing to worship,—if it’s right to 
worship anything in a man,—are refinement of feel¬ 
ing, elevation of thought, purity of life, and mental 
and moral culture of every kind; but when yon come 
to the mero matter of metal, silver and gold, and the 
like,—why, then I become as insensible as an icicle. 
I never did, and never will, pay obeisance to the 
purse-proud ignoramus, whose house and lands con¬ 
stitute the only letter of recommendation he can offer. 
It is certainly no disgrace to be rich, provided a 
man makes his riches a secondary matter with him,— 
it is doubtless a very pleasant thing to have an abund 
ance of money, where the possessor knows how to 
use it, in making himself, or any one else, wiser, 
happier, or more useful; but, for a man to live for 
his money and nothing else, is simply despicable. 
Really great men, Mr. N„ always achieve great¬ 
ness,— it isn’t being born great, or having greatness 
thrust upon them, that makes them^trnly so. I wonld 
like to know if money made Robbrt Burns a great 
poet, or Walter Scott a great author, or Hugh 
Miller a great geologist? It was Sir Isaac New¬ 
ton’s mind, not his money, that placed his name at 
the pinnacle of earthly greatness; aud that name will 
gleam there In letters of gold, when Rothschilds 
will have been forgolten. Do you suppose it was 
Bkn. Franklin’s money that taught him philosophy, 
and made him one of the best and greatest men the 
world ever 6aw? Was it money that made the name 
of Washington worthy of being transmitted to pos¬ 
terity, and that has caused his memory to be fragrant 
as anmmer blooms, and melodious as sweetest music, 
to this whole nation of freemen? Had the great and 
noble men of all ages waited to become rich before 
they eesayed to be anybody,— the painters, the poets, 
the philosophers, and the scholars,—Heaven only 
knows what mines of wisdom, what priceless ingots 
of the pure gold of trne greatness the world must 
have lost. 
Great m nave, for the most part, been fighting 
men. They didn’t start like you, Mr. Nam by Pamby, 
with your listless arms hanging supiuely down, and 
the corners of your mouth elongated. No, sir. They 
rolled up their sleeves, and prepared to fight. They 
took the world by storm—that is, so Jar as it opposed 
them. There wasn’t anything or anybody they were 
afraid of. They conquered every obstacle. There 
wa 3 not only poverty, hat there were contumely and 
abuse, envy and malice, and a legion of other foes, 
and they oonqaered them all. And now when 1 read 
of them, of all they endured, and all they overcame, 
of what they have been, and what they have done, my 
heart gets all aglow with love for the humanity to 
which I belong, and the little, puny, imbecile man 
who is only rich, and nothing more, sinks away, and 
shrinks away, till he is nothing better or bigger, in 
my eyes, than a dried leaf in November. A. m. p. 
Fayetteville, N. Y., 1861. 
-- 
Greatness. —It is a remark of John Hunter:— 
“There never was a man that wanted to be a great 
man, that ever was a great mam For great men have 
endeavored always to do some great action that 
seemed to tend to some great good, and the effect 
made them great. Wanting to be great is vanity 
without power.” 
TnE object of all ambition should be to be happy 
at home. If we are not happy there, we cannot be 
happy elsewhere. 
THE DOMESTIC TYRANT. 
It is to me a thoroughly disgusting sight to see, as 
we sometimes do, the wife and children of a family 
kept in constant terror of the selfish bashaw at the 
head of the house, and ever on the watch to yield in 
every petty manner to bis whims and fancies. Some¬ 
times, where he ia a hard-wrought and anxiouB man, 
whose hard work earns his children's bread, and 
whose life is the sole stay, it is needful that he should 
be deferred to in many things, lest the over tasked 
brain and over strained nervous system should break 
down or grow nnequal to their task. But I am not 
thinking of such cases. I mean cases in which the 
head of a family is a great fat, bullying, selfish 
scoundrel; who devonrs the choice dishea at dinner, 
and walks into all the fruit or dessert, while his wife 
looks on in silence, and the awe-stricken children 
dare not hint that they wonld like a little of what the 
brutal hound is devouring. I mean cases in which 
the contemptible dog is extremely well dressed, while 
his wife’s and children’s attire is thin and hare; in 
which he liberally tosses about his money in the bil¬ 
liard room, and goes off In antnran for a tour on the 
continent by himself, leaving them to the joyless 
routine of their unvaried life. It is sad to see the 
sudden hush that falls upon the little things when he 
enters the house; bow their sports are cut short, and 
they try to steal away from tho room. Would that I 
were the Emperor of Russia, and such a man my sub¬ 
ject! Should not he taste the knout? Should not I 
make him howl? That would be his suitable pun¬ 
ishment; for he will never feel what worthier mortals 
would regard as the heavier penalty by far, the utter 
absence of confidence or real affection between him 
and his children when they grow np. ne will not 
mind that there never was a day when the toddling 
creatures set np a shout of delight at his entrance, 
and rasbed at him and Bealed him, and searched his 
pockets, and pulled him about; nor that day will 
never come when, growing into men and women, 
they will come to him for sympathy and guidance in 
their little trials and perplexities. Oh! woful to 
think that there arc parents, held in general estima¬ 
tion too, to whom their children would no more 
think of going for kindly sympathy, than they wonld 
think of going to Nova Zemblafor warmth. — Country 
Parson. 
- » ■ ♦ - 
THE TRANSFIGURATION OF MEMORY. 
As there was an hour when the fishermen of Gali¬ 
lee saw their Master transfigured, his raiment white 
and glistening, and his face like the light, so are 
there hours when our whole mortal life stands forth 
in celestial radiance. From our daily lot falls off 
every weed of care, from our heart-friends every 
speck and stain of earthly infirmity. Our horizon 
widens, and blue, and amethyst, and gold touch 
every object. Absent friends and friends gone on the 
last journey stand once more together, hrigbt with 
an immortal glow, and, like the disciples who 6aw 
their Master floating in tho clouds above them, we 
say, “Lord, it is good to he here!” How fair the 
wife, the husband, the absent mother, the gray haired 
father, the manly son, tho bright eyed daughter! 
Seen in the actual present, all have some fault, some 
flaw; hut absent, we see them in their permanent and 
better selves. Of our distant home wc remember 
not a dark day, not one servile care, nothing hut the 
echo of its holy hymns and the radiance of its bright 
days —of our father not one hasty word, but only 
I the fullness of his manly vigor and noble tenderness 
i —of onr mother, nothing of mortal weakness, hut 
a glorified form of love —of our brother, not one 
teasing, provoking word of brotherly freedom, but 
the proud beauty of bis noblest hours—of our sister, 
onr child, only what is fairest and sweetest.— Mrs, 
II. B. Stone. 
How to Live. —In these lovely autumn days one 
almost takes a new lease of life. The bracing air, 
the intense blue of the heavens, the gorgeous fall 
fiowers, tho cool mornings and evenings, the deli¬ 
cious noons, tho glittering starry night — ah, how 
enticing they are I What a holiday ycnrniDg they 
send into the soul; what a vagrant gipsy-longing for 
deliverance from work aud all restraint. But heed it 
not; for by the measures of duties well fulfilled, and 
obligations unshrinkingly met, shall be the measure 
of your truest delight. We are neither butterflies nor 
children, that life should be all glitter and song. He 
who enjoys a luxury most keenly is be who has 
earned it. Inherited ease is inherited disease of both 
body and mind. No more pitiable object exists on 
God's earth than the jaded pleasure seeker. He who 
with no necessity for labor, and no taste for mental 
improvement, or enthusiasm for any good or noble 
cause, counts the lagging hours, and shudders at the 
word “Immortality.” — Fanny Fern, 
--- ■ ♦ ■ -- 
Correct Speakjno. — We advise all young people 
to acquire in early life the habit of using good lan¬ 
guage, botli in speaking and writing, and to abandon, 
as early as possible, any use of slang words and 
phrases. The longer they live, the more difficult the 
acquisition of correct language will be; and if the 
golden age of youth, the proper season for the acqui¬ 
sition of language, be passed in its abase, the unfor¬ 
tunate victim of neglected education is, very prop¬ 
erly, doomed to talk slang for life. Money is not 
necessary to procure this education. Every man has 
it in his power. He has merely to use the language 
which he reads, instead of the slang which he hears; 
to form his taste from the best speakers and poets of 
the country; to treasure up choice phrases in his 
memory, and habituate himself to their use, avoid¬ 
ing, at the same time, that pedantic precision and 
bombast, which show rather the weakness of vain 
ambition than the polish of an educated mind. 
■-♦ 4 ♦ « -4- 
Engaging Manners. —There are a thousand pretty, 
engaging little wayB, which every person may put 
on without running the risk of being deemed either 
affected or foppish. The sweet smile, the quiet, 
cordial bow, the earnest movement in addressing a 
friend, or more especially a stranger whom one may 
recommend to our good regards, the inquiring 
glance, the graceful attention which is so captivating 
when united to self-possession—these will insure us 
the good regards of even a churl. Above all, there 
ia a certain softness of manner which should be 
cultivated, and which, in either man or woman, adds 
a charm that almost entirely compensates for lack of 
beauty. The voice can be modulated so to intonate 
that it will speak directly to the heart, and from that 
elicit an answer; and politeness may be made essen¬ 
tial to our nature. Neither is time thrown away in 
attending to such things, insignificant as they may 
seem to those who engage in weightier matters. 
Accident does very little towards the production 
of any great result in life. Though sometimes what 
is called “ a happy hit ” may be made by a bold ven¬ 
ture, the old and common highway of steady industry 
and application is the only safe road to travel. 
[Written for Moore'* Rural New-Yorker.] 
OYER THE RIVER. 
Over the river the crystal stream flows. 
Over the river the Tree of Life grows. 
Over the river e»ch ion* pilgrim goes 
Through the dim portals of death. 
Close by our threshold the dark Angel stands, 
Beckoning us on with hi* pale, trembling hands. 
Chilling our hearts with his ©old, icy bands, 
Stealing each quivering breath. 
Over the river the street* are of gold,— 
There are enjoyment* and pleasures untold,— 
Over the river Time never grows old 
Bearing his burden of years. 
There all our sorrow and sighing shall cease, 
Hushed by the choru* of heavenly peace; 
Over the river, thrice happy release, 
We shall be free from our fears. 
There every tear shall be wiped from our eyes, 
There where the sunlight of glory ne’er dies, 
Lighting forever those fair upper skies, 
“ Eden,s ” glad plains to adorn. 
Over the river, fair Kingdom of light, 
There heaven's mansion* forever are bright; 
Over the river there cometh no night— 
Long is Eternity's morn. 
Over the rlveri oh, blessed retreat, 
Angels shall welcome onr earth-weary feet, 
There shall our rest be eternal and sweet, 
Up in that Kingdom of lore. 
There is a crown for each conqueror's brow, 
All who are traveling “the narrow way” now,— 
Ever so lofty or ever *o low,— 
, All share a kind Father’s love. 
Over the river! while journeying here, 
Grant us, oh, Father, Thy presence to cheer 
Earth's windiog pathway go lonely and drear 
Only as Thou guide the oar. 
Over the river, oh, take us, we pray. 
When comes the evening of Life’s fleeting day; 
Over the river onr harks steer away. 
Anchor on Canaan’s fair shore. 
m 
Over the river! we’ve crossed it at last, 
Over the river our danger Is past, 
Safe in the Harbor out barks are moored fast, 
Ne’er from their Haven to roam. 
Then will we sing with the glorified throng 
Loud hallelujahs, in one happy song, 
Praising the Power that hath brought us along 
Over the river—at Home. 
Ogden Center, N. Y., 1861. “Hattib.” 
UNEXPECTED RESULTS. 
In the spiritual as in the natural world, results 
seemingly disproportionate to the means employed 
are oftCH developed. Sometimes Christians labor 
for years with almost no fruit; but usually the har¬ 
vest ripens in its season, and surpasses in its abund¬ 
ance the expectation of the husbandman. No 
believing, earnest, and Scriptural effort for Christ, 
is without its final and large reward, and the feeble¬ 
ness of the instrumentality is no preventive to 
mighty results. God may use unexpected and even 
undesigned influences to accomplish his purposes, 
that the glory may he given to him. An illustration 
is found in the following authentic statement; 
A godly minister, who bad long labored and prayed 
for the conversion of a Bon, whom from infancy he 
had given up for the sacred office, should he, by 
Divine grace, be prepared for it, was doomed to see 
him carelessly throw off all his personal appeals for 
years; and yet that son was arrested, convicted, and 
eventually brought to Christ, by tho use of a single 
word. The father, in asking a blessing at the table 
of the evening meal, besought it “for the sake of 
Our dear Redeemer.” “ Dear Redeemer,” mentally 
repeated the son. “Why dear?” “ To whom dear?” 
“Should he not he dear to me?” The arrow of con¬ 
viction, winged by that word, “ dear Redeemer," had 
reached his heart. He withdrew from the table, 
betook himself to pruyer, and rested not until that 
Redeemer, so dear to his father, was felt to be his 
precious Bavior. 
For a score of years that son has served God in 
the ministry of the gospel, and is often encouraged 
in hours of darkness with the conviction that the 
largest results may flow from his feeblest efforts, and 
souls be saved even by undesigned and casual words. 
— Messenger. 
-—- 
JESUS OUR EXAMPLE, 
Religion is constantly suffering from the conduot 
of its professors. They do not put off the old man 
with his deeds, neither do they put on the new man, 
which, after God, is created in righteousness and 
true holiness. They profess to look to Christ as a 
Savior, but they do not take Christ for their exam¬ 
ple. But these thingB must not be divided. He who 
died for onr Bins, set us also an example that we should 
follow in His steps. Christ alohe Bhould be our 
standard, aud likeness to Him should be our aim. 
We are only so far Christianized as we are like 
Christ. He says, “Learn of me.” Not only learn 
by my teaching, but learn by my life. Do as ye see 
me do; act as ye see me act. The life of Jesus is the 
model after which the Holy Spirit works. As the 
Spirit of Christ, His work is to conform os to Christ. 
And under His teaching and assistance, it should be 
our daily aim to resemble Christ in our temper, dis¬ 
position, and general deportment. Am I called to 
suffer? Let me ask, “How did Christ Euffer?” and 
then seek grace to suffer just as He did. Am I called 
to work for God? Let me aBk, “How did Christ 
work?” and then pray for grace, that I may work 
just as Jesus did. And so of all the rest, that my 
life may be a reflection of the life of Christ, and that 
in my conduct 1 may in some degree reproduce the 
conduct of the Lord JeBus. No one can tell how 
nearly he may be conformed to the life of Jesus, if he 
makes this his constant prayer and habitual aim. 
Grace can do wonders, and God givetb more grace. 
We are not now what we were once, and we may 
become very much more like to Jesus than we are 
now. Holy Spirit, make us just like our beloved 
Lord! ^_ ^ ^ [ _ _ 
The Savior and His Friends.— Our Lord, in the 
days of His flesh, encountered various classes of ene¬ 
mies, hut none of these ever included a woman. On 
the contrary, the gentler sex always appear to have 
been HiB followers or friends. Not only were they, 
as has often been said, the last at His cross and the 
first at His sepulchre, bnt throughout they ministered 
to His wants. A woman anuiuted Him for His 
burial; a heathen woman interceded for His life witii 
her husband, Pilate; women bewailed and lamented 
Him as He went to Calvary; to a woman He first ap¬ 
peared when He rose agaiD. All this was most fit¬ 
ting, since of a woman He wa3 born, and to woman 
H5 b Gospel was not only a means of salvation, but a 
source of domestic and social elevation for the 
present life. 
