Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
f 1 “13 A. B Y.” 
} - 
BV MERTEI. E CONO. 
As the day stole out in silence. 
And the night came on, 
Folded she her pale hands meekly, 
To the Holy One. 
Lisping out in dying accents, 
As she saw us weep, 
Smiling sweetly as she murmured, 
“ Baby's going to sleep.” 
Softly then the pale stars twinkled 
Through the fading blue; 
As the day passed through the portal 
Christ look " Baby” too. 
And a little star came peeping, 
Soon, from out the sky; 
“ Baby's looking from the window,” 
Something seemed to cry. 
Oft the gate has opened widely, 
But she comes no more ; 
And we wait and watch in silence, 
Where she passed before— 
Waiting for the gate to open, 
That we may be blest, 
Saying, to the angel sentry, 
‘'■Baby's gone to rest!” 
Still the little star is looking, 
Waiting for us now— 
“Baby ” standing by the portal, 
Wears It on her brow. 
We will follow, follow onward, 
Where it shines afar, 
Till for us the angel sentry, 
Holds the gate ajar. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
A LETTER TO MRS. SMITH. 
Mr Dear Mrs. Smith : — You told me (he 
other day that yott bad three daughters growing 
up to womanhood, and that you, their mother, 
would rather see them all laid under the roses 
and willows than sec them grow to he young 
women. 
Those wore your very words, my dear, and I 
was much startled to hear you utter them. I 
looked upon t hem, three fair-haired, blue-eyed 
girls. Roses and carnations nestled among the 
dimples and smiles of their cheeks as they came 
to greet me with their whole-hearted, childish 
kisses. With the soft arm9 about my neck 
and the cherry lips touching mine, how could I 
help saying, “I think you are wrong, All's. 
Smith ! ” And I think now that you was. 
Do you not know that those children were 
given you as the crowning glory and joy of your 
life, to develop and perfect your owu nature, 
character and affections as a woman?— to keep 
the evergreen affections fresh around your fire¬ 
side ? — to refect the purity, the truth and love- 
C finess of womanly character with which a true 
mother should impress and mold the lives of 
her daughters ? You love your children I am 
sure; I know you do. It was your love for 
them that caused that remark from you. You 
was looking into the dark future which lies 
before them. You fear they may become vain, 
flippant and thoughtless “young ladies,” or 
unloved and unhappy wives and mothers. 
You ask what you shall do with them. Teach 
them them to be true to their nature. Lay the 
foundation of their future happiness by teaching 
them how to live. Have them understand that 
they are women with woman’s life before them, 
and not that they were made to show off the 
last fashion, nor pretty things for brainless and 
worthless fops to how and talk nonsense to. 
But you say you do not know how to teach 
them, i see, my friend, you have not their con¬ 
fidence You made a great mistake somewhere. 
When you put the little prattler down from 
your arms, you put it too far from you, and it 
never came back. When it came to you, you did 
not take it to your heart and let it breathe its 
sweet child-confidence and love, and prattle into 
your ear as it nestled upon your breast. You 
did not nourish and cherish that warm trust and 
affection which God planted in the child-nature 
to blossom as it should grow up, and shed its 
beauty and fragrance upon your own life. 
When you was a child, All's. Smith, did not 
your heart yearn for sympathy in your child- 
griefs and heart-aches ? And were not those 
sorrows as great to you then as the griefs and 
troubles of the present are to you now ? Did 
not your heart yearn for loving words and 
caresses, for sweet confidence and trust in those 
about you ; most, ot all for your mother’s love 
and heart? And these feelings grew with your 
growth. As others gave you manifest evidence 
of their love for you, so was your trust in and 
love for them to be measured. 
Ami so it is with your child. It seeks by its ' 
trusting look and loving smile to take its place 
in your heart as a natural right to which it is en¬ 
titled by the most holy ties. And you, by neg- ' 
lecting to recognize its love and confidence, Lave 1 
estranged it from you. There was your error. 1 
You should have cherished and cultivated all the * 
warm and pure impulses which gush forth so 
spontaneously iu every pulsation of innoceut E 
childhood. Do you not see now why you have i 
— would have enriched aud beautified your life, 
given you a more perfect character, rounded 
your life into a glorious womanhood. 
You can, doubtless, see many things in your 
own early education which were wrong. See 
that these are right in regard to your child. 
! Take your motlier-love down into your daugh¬ 
ter’s heart. Warm to life again her chilled and 
withering trust, and let her head rest again upon 
your bosom with the love which makes every 
thought transparent to you. Let her rest there 
as long as God spares her to you, with the 
same freedom with which she nestled to sleep 
upon your breast when a little child, and never, 
never let the love between you grow cold for 
want of manifestation and caresses, sweet words, 
sweet looks aud smiles as well as your labors to 
promote her comfort. Do not simply say to a 
'child that you have done all this or that for it, 
that you arc always toiliug and sacrificing for it. 
That is teaching love abstractly for a certainty. 
One tender stroke of your hand upon her brow, 
one kiss upon her lips, is worth more to her 
than a whole year of such talk. It will go to 
the heart, and the heart, Mrs. Smith, is just 
where the education and development are most 
needed. L. Jarvis Wilton. 
WtettUm. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MODERN COIFFURES. 
Will the Editors allow one to say iu the 
Rural how silly it seems to- me that women 
aud girls should follow what may he called 
fashion, in the arrangement of their hair? It 
would be just as sensible for every woman to 
paint her nose black, because it is fashionable, 
as it is that they should “dressl” their Lair 
with “ rats and mice” as they now do, “regard¬ 
less of consequences” and the relative fitness of 
the style to face, physique, &c. I want to quote 
from a letter written by a lady in Washington, 
something which I think expresses what I 
mean. Sir writes: — “ Few people understand 
the law of adaptation, what colors, what forms, 
what com’ inations suit their own shade, figure 
and style. Your 6tyle is your individuality, 
which di - anguishes you, by varied renderings, 
from every other woman. You can give expres¬ 
sion to this in your attire as forcibly as you may 
stamp your face upon a metallic plate, or tell of 
your traits upon a printed page. She who best 
does this dresses best. Take for instance the 
present, horned coiffure. If a woman looks well 
in it, it is because she is beautiful in spite of it, 
not because of it. Now and then you see a 
saucy face to which this bizarre arrangement 
lends a piquant grace; but generally those who 
most affect it are made to look os if they had the 
rickets or hydrocephalus in childhood. Mrs. 
Sprague showed her good taste the other night 
when she carried her hair plainly back in a sim- 
| pie coil. Rats and mice look ill at ease around 
a pensive face.” 
Now I submit that that is good 6ense—I mean 
the spirit of that paragraph. As I go to church, 
the lecture- or the party, I dew not know which 
affords me the most painlul amusement—the 
aistonions which are made of women by the 
present mode cf dressing the hair, or the inno¬ 
cent greenness given to young men by the mode 
of parting the hair near the center of the head. 
I think we need to take some lessons in adapta¬ 
tion and relation, before wc may claim to be 
a well dressed people. 
Weedy Nook, 3865. Mrs. Jane C. Overton. 
LOVE WILL FIND A WAY. 
. Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
DESTINY. 
Njoiit, with the tear-wet lashes 
Veiling her saddened eyes. 
Drapeth the earth in mourning, 
Drapeth the weeping skies. 
The winds their harpe are tnniug 
To a sobbing, dirge-like air, 
And my heart joins solemn chorus 
With the tones of deep despair; 
Fcr I'm silting a monmer, whereDeath holds hie sway. 
Where a beautiful life-dream hath Just passed away. 
Atone with the spectral shadows 
That flit through the silent room, 
I’m watching, sadly watching 
In tli" strangely awful gloom. 
Long 6lnce eamo th' midnight lionrs 
With their slow aud solemn tread, 
With their eyes of tender sadness 
To bend o’er my cherished dead. 
Yet they linger, still linger, to deepen the shade 
Of the curtain the shadows of evening have made. 
Vain, vain, the morn Is dawning 
And ere it comes, I know 
My treasure I must bury 
With th’ dead of “long ago.” 
For those who smile upon us 
When th' heart is free from care, 
Have never, when sorrow' presses, 
A pitying tear to spare. 
And the smiling that never from feeling would Start, 
Must conceal all the aching that lies at the heart. 
Oh! well is it when sunlight 
Gliuteth the path we tread. 
We cannot see the shadows 
Lying so far ahead; 
Or know each spirit holdeth 
Dark graves, where in coming years 
We our brightest hopes may bury 
With many bitterest tears. 
Ah I the strongest and bravest would shrink could they 
know 
How much of their future lay shrouded in woe. 
Lakeville, N. Y. Mate. 
almost to equal the morality of a Christian ? 
Is this a time for the church to recede from her 
high position? When all the world is looking 
to her for examples and salvation, can she afford 
to quit the safe and beaten track of strict pro¬ 
priety, in which every martyr from our Savior 
downwards has traveled, to walk in paths 
where she must gather her robes close about 
her aud shrink from every passenger to escape 
the reproach of insincerity or the stains of pas¬ 
sion or of lust ? Or can she spare her time from 
the redemption of a world to reel in the mazes 
of the dance, or to involve herselt in the fascina¬ 
tions of gaming? j. c. s. 
DAYS 
YOUTH. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
ABOUT DANCING AND CARD PLAYING. 
I was much pained to see in the Rural of 
the 4th instant, an attack upon the scruples of 
Christians concerning danclog and whist play¬ 
ing. And seeing that you have admitted that 
article, 1 was led to hope you would admit an 
answer also. It seems to me that a person iu 
advising a Christian to frequent the bar-room 
aud gambling-hell would only ask him to do in 
toto, what that article recommends in part. 
For cither course of conduct involves a com¬ 
promise with vice, which differs from the other 
only in terms. 
The assertion that dancing is the most health¬ 
ful and civil of amusements I would simply 
contradict and pass it by in order briefly to say 
what I would, and be done. The writer of that 
article must-be mor -f" piaboiced than I takes 
her to be, if she does not know that those who 
indulge In dancing and gaining are seldom sin 
gularly efficient as men of business and enter¬ 
prise to say nothing of their morality or religion. 
She must understand that these are the most 
ready means of relaxing the mind from disci¬ 
pline of any uature. She knows that no parent 
FROM ANOTHER CORRESPONDENNT. 
More than one will hear witness to the truth 
of Gail Hamilton’s remarks upon dancing. 
Seldom is anything heard in favor of that -whole¬ 
some and pleasing exercise, so much enjoyed by 
the young —and as much indulged iu by those 
whose parents disapprove of it, as by others. 
Thus, it, is made a sin, for the command reads, 
“Honor thy father and thy mother.” Why not 
give them the pleasure without the sin? The 
nature of youth demands exhilerating and lively 
amusements. If they cannot be found within 
the home or church circle, they will be sought 
elsewhere. How much more refined and grace¬ 
ful appear the movers in the easy dance, at the 
social gatherings of the “world,” than do those 
of the church enjoying their favorite pastime, 
“ Wink and catch ’em! " Whut Christian parent 
can look upon the two scenes and not, he im¬ 
pressed with the delicacy of the one aud the 
indelicacy of the other? Neither are t arony. 
Yet which, think you, will have the most, salu¬ 
tary effect upon the mind?—the lioydenish, 
smacking play, or stepping to the sound of 
music in the civil dance ? The church prohibits 
one, and practices the other. “O, consistency, 
thou art a jewel! ” 
The church ought not to put a ban upon any 
sinless pastime of the young. Prohibition is 
not because there is harm iu dancing, but the 
“world dances.” Ought the world to rule the 
church, or vice versa? The world eats and 
drinks; therefore, it is wrong for the church. 
“Nonsense!” It is not nonsense. One thing 
is just as logical as the other. Who knows for 
how many souls the church will have to account 
because of this ban ? Many will say, “ they 
[ would now be within the fold, had they been 
allowed there the amusements which the life 
and spirits that God gave them required. ” 
The unjustness of the church to their youthful 
longings drove them-let the church answer 
where! If ministers would break down barriers 
aud make the difference less between the church 
and the world, instead of widening it by their 
restrictions, their influence would shortly be¬ 
come the more potent of the two. 
Give the young pleasing pastimes and they 
will gather round the altar. Present to them 
the touching life of the Savior in all its relation 
to their welfare. They will yield ready convic¬ 
tion to the truth, aud love Him as none but 
Christians can love. Then let them dance and 
play whist if they choose; the warm love of 
their hearts for God will restrain them from an 
excess which would be wrong. It is a pity that 
ministers would not think more about the souls 
of the young, and less about the “ st raight jack¬ 
ets ’’ of moral discipline, which they can invent 
of sense who wishes to see his son a scholar *° mif ^‘ the 0u * before, as some believe, 
A cocple, not one hundred miles from Man¬ 
chester, carried ou their courtship in a rather 
novel maimer. A young man had fallen in love 
with the daughter of his employer; but, for cer¬ 
tain ideas of wealth, a match was opposed by 
the father. The consequence was that the 
young man was forbidden to visit his employer’s 
house. The old gentleman was in. the habit of 
wearing a cloak. The couple made him the in¬ 
nocent bearer of their correspondence. The 
young lady pinned a letter inside the lining of 
the old man’s cloak every day, and when the 
father went to the counting-house, and threw off 
his cloak, the lover took out the lady's epistle, 
read it, and sent the reply back in the same 
manner. Love and ingenuity were finally suc¬ 
cessful. 
FEMININE GOSSIP. 
At a wedding the other day one of the guests, 
who often is a little absent-minded, observed 
gravely, “I have often remarked that there have 
been more women than men married this year.” 
A lady, more favored by fortune than with 
education, at a soiree which she gave, desired 
her daughter to pi lay “ the fashionable new ■mal¬ 
ady she got from London last week.” The 
pretty girl obeyed, aud it was very catching. 
Two ladies w ho inhabit Wapping were having 
some words together on the pavement, when 
the daughter of one of them popped her head out 
of the door, and exclaimed, “Hurry, mother, 
aud call her a thief before she calls you one.” 
A Boston papier, talking of the number of 
Biuplus women in Massachusetts says:—“We 
happen to kuow that twenty-four young women 
would suffer him to frequent the ball-room or 
gaming table. Is she so regardless of the 
instincts of mankind, that she would tempt 
them to action? —so ignorant of human lusts 
that she would excite them? — so confident 
in man’s virtue that she would tax it? Or does 
she deny that the swell of voluptuous music, 
the wild and stirring movement, the almost 
lascivious attitudes and the corrupt associations 
of the dance, stir to their very depths the worst 
passions of humanity aud make to stand out iu 
bold relief tlic vilest features of hi.- depravity? 
Or will she dispute that the card table Las made 
and is still making our gamblers, just as surely 
as tippling is making our drunkards, or obscene 
thought and conversation our libertines and 
prostitutes ? 
No, the barrier between the Christian and the 
world is thin enough s I ready. Let no hand be 
raised to break it down. There are hypocrites 
enough in the church already, and for what 
should we exclude any, If the card pdayer and 
the voluptuary who nuy make a profession of 
sanctity, are received ? 
“The Christianity that can he distinguished 
from worldliness oult by its acceptance or 
rejection of dancing i-, indeed, a very insig¬ 
nificant article.” But is it as contemptible as 
that religion that caujiot relinquish dancing? 
Are not the joys of jeligion sufficient for its 
devotees ? Is that man a Christian at all who is 
not satisfied with CafltsT ? 
In England, two hundred years ago, religion 
and morality were til exceptions, and licen¬ 
tiousness the rule. Tien the Puritan with his 
strict morality and earnest piety was scoffed at 
aud persecuted, while] the sensual and profane 
Cavalier was respeettd and admired. From 
that time to this, bothiu England and America, 
these extremes of vijtue and vice have been 
nearing each other; f i Only one has moved. 
Though the Puritan ins relaxed somewhat his 
not the confidence of your daughters—why you graduated at one of the commercial schools last Though the Puritan Ins relaxed somewhat his 
find it bard to speak to them of so many things au tumn, with credentials that they were fitted austerity of manner, jvt has he not abated any- 
which concern their happiness, and whisk, as to serve as book-keepers. Twenty-one of these thing of his lofty con’option of true religion, 
their mother, it is your duty to teach them ? young women are still without employment— And the accredited Christian of this day is 
You dare not speak freely to your child of that some oi them having been five months seeking seemingly as earnest; as faithful, as pure, as 
which concerns its happiness for life, and the * it -” were the Non-G’omfoiuiists of England or the 
happiness of those with whom that life is to be A love-lohn swain broke a wish-bone with Covenanters of Scotland; and lack only, to 
passed! Oh, mother! Are yon worthy of the his “ heart’s queen,” somewhere in New Iiamp-' equal them iu glory, o have suffered pcrsccu- 
1131110? You say it is too late now to bring back shire. “ Neow what’d you wish, Sail ?” demand- tion, and to have seal'd their professions with 
the lost years. True, they are gone. But your ed Jonathan with a tender grin of expectation, their blood. 
work is not done. You have the present and “I wished X was liandsum,” replied the fair But the. other portions of community have 
your children. Your llic belongs to them, damsel, “ liandsum as Queen Victory.” “Jcru- changed mightily. Now, ou all bands, instead 
Think what influences woven about you by a salcrn! what a wish!” replied Jonathan, “when of vice we see virtue .ailed at and condemned, 
mother’s loving care would have made you a you’re haudsom 'null' neow. But I’ll tell yer insomuch that men alien find hypocrisy the 
young women are still without employment— 
some oi them having been five months seeking 
it.” 
A love-lorn swain broke a wish-bone with 
his “ heart’s queen,” somewhere in New Iiamp-' 
i ou say it is too late now to tiring back shire. “ Neow what’d you wish, Sal] ?” deinand- 
the lost years. True, they are gone. But your 
work is not done. You have the present and 
your children. Your life belongs to them. 
Think what influences woven about you by a 
mother’s loving care would have made you a 
ed Jonathan with a tender grin of expectation. 
“I wished I was liandsum,” replied the fair 
damsel, “liandsum as Queen Victory.” “Jeru¬ 
salem! what a wish!” replied Jonathan, “when 
you’re haudsom ’null neow. But I’ll tell yer I 
better woman—what instruction would have i>re- what I wished, Sally; I wished you was locked shortest road to favor. And is this a time when 
pared you better for fife, its duties and relations I up in my arms, and the key was lost /’ 
the standard of worldly morality is so high as 
“they arc in a fit state, to be saved.” 
God makes everything in nature beautiful aud 
interesting. Is it a wonder that many believe 
that the loug-faced, funeral-garbed members arc 
not made after God’s image, nor patterned after 
Ilis teachings ? The religion of Christ is bean- 
tlful, and faith in it is the essence of happiness. 
More would seek its possession, had not protes• 
feseors brought reproach upon its fair fume. 
Ought not the church to bo made as attractive 
as the world ? The very elements of its founda¬ 
tion are based upon truths whose beauty and 
perfection has caused thousands of hearts to 
leap for Joy. Parents should do away with false 
prejudices and save the youth at their firesides. 
Let rigid be the talisman In this matter of danc¬ 
ing and other pastimes. Who is wiser than 
Solomon ? He says “ there is a time to dance." 
Christians, give this more than a passing thought. 
Ovid, March 13, 1865. Maynard. 
CHANCE CHIPS. 
Dr. Franklin said “ a good kick out. of doors 
is better than all the rich uncles in the world.” 
None are so fond of secrets as those who don’t 
mean to keep them; such persons covet secrets 
as a spendthrift covets money—for the purpose 
of circulation. 
A witty printer who left the case, studied 
physic and became a physician, gave as his rea¬ 
son for doing so that in printing, all the faults 
are exposed to the eye, but in physic they are 
buried with the patient. 
A country clergyman was greatly astonished 
one day by the jollity of the mourners at the 
breakfast of a funeral, and was gravely told in 
explanation, “ Bless you, sir, they’re not laugh¬ 
ing; they’re only dissembling their grief.” 
Keep your mouth shut when you read, when 
you write, when you listen, when you are iu 
pain, when yon are running, when you are rid¬ 
ing, and by all means when you arc angry. 
There is no person in society but will find, and 
acknowledge, improvement in health and enjoy¬ 
ment from even a temporary attention to this 
advice, 
Doullas Jekhold, discussing one day with 
Mr. Selby the vexed question of adapting dra- , 
marie pieces from the French, that gentleman 
insisted upon claiming some of his characters as 
strictly original creations. “ Do you remember 
my Baroness in ‘Ask no Questions?’ ” said Mr. 
S. “Yes, indeed. I don't thiuk 1 ever saw a 
piece of yours without being struck by your 
barrenness,” was the retort. 
BY ST. GEORGE TUCKER. 
Days of my youth, ye have glided away; 
Hairs of my youth, ye are frosted and gray; 
Eyes of my youth, your keen sight is no more; 
Checks of my youth, ye are furrowed all o’er; 
Strength of my youth, all your vigor is gone: 
Thoughts of my youth, your gay visions are flown. 
Days of my youth, I wish not your recall; 
Hair of my youth, Uni content yc should fall; 
Eyes of my youth, you much evil have seen; 
Checks of my youth, bathed in tears you have been; 
Thoughts of my youth, you have led me astray; 
Strength of my youth, why lament your decay. 
Days of my age, ye will shortly be past; 
Pains of my age, yet awhile you can last; 
Joys of my ago. in true wisdom delight; 
Eyes of my age, be religion your light; 
Thoughts of ray age, dread ye not the cold sod; 
Hopes of my age, be ye fixed on your God. 
- — _ . » > ■» - . - — — 
TAKE MY HAND. 
In the dead of night I am frequently awakened 
by a little hand stealing out from the crib by my 
side, with the pleading cry, “ Please take my 
hand, papa!” 
Instantly the little boy’s hand is grasped, his 
fears vanish, and soothed by the consciousness 
of his father’s presence, he lulls into sweet sleep 
again. 
We commend this lesson of simple, filial faith 
and trust, to the anxious, sorrowing ones, that 
are fonnd In almost every household. Stretch 
forth your hand, stricken mourner, although 
you may be in the deepest darkness and gloom, 
and fear and anxious suspense may cloud 
your weary pathway—and that very act will 
reveal the presence of a loving, compassionate 
Father, and give you the peace that passeth all 
understanding. 
The darkness may not pass away at once, 
night may still enfold you iu its embrace, but its 
terrors will bo dissipated, its gloom aud sadness 
tlee away, and in the simple grasp of the 
Father’s hand, sweet peace will be given, and 
you will rest securely, knowing that the “moni- 
ing Cometh. ’’—Congregational 1st. 
■ - ■ »> - 
PURITY OF CHARACTER. 
Over the beauty of the plum and the apricot 
there grows a bloom and beauty more exquisite 
than the fruit itself—a soft, delicate flush spreads 
its flushing cheek. Now, if yon strike your 
hand over that, it is gone. The flower that 
bungs in the morning impearled with dew, ar¬ 
rayed as uo queenly woman ever was arrayed 
with jewels—once shake it so that the beads rolL 
off, and you may sprinkle water over it as you 
please, yet it can never be again what it was 
when the dew fell silently on it from heaven. 
Ou a frosty morning you may see panes of glass 
covered with landscapes, mountains, lakes, trees, 
blended iu a beautiful picture. Now lay your 
band upon the glass, and by a scratch of your 
finger, or by the warmth of your palm, that 
delicate tracery will lie obliterated. So there is 
in youth a beauty and purity of character, which, 
when once touched and defiled, can never lie re¬ 
stored. — Selected. 
Thackery on Death.— The ghostly struggle 
over, who would pity any one that departs ? It 
is the survivors one commisserates in the case 
of such a good, pious, tender-hearted man as he 
seemed whom God Almighty has just called 
back to himself. He appeared to me to have all 
the sweet domestic virtues which make the pang 
of parting only the more cruel to those who are 
left behind, but that loss, whut a gain to him! 
A just man summoned by God, for what purpose 
can lxo go hut to meet t he Divine love aud good¬ 
ness ? 1 never think about deploring such; and 
ns you and I send for our children, meaning them 
only love and kindness, how much more Pater 
Noster ?— Private Letter. 
SOBER SABBATH THOUGHTS. 
Trust Christ and praise him aud you ueed 
never despair. 
Fruit uuto holiness is the only permanent 
fruit—such will go with us into eternity. 
Unity in the Church ot Christ is very beauti¬ 
ful, yet we admire each branch of Zion in its 
own character. 
If we are sanctified by the Holy Spirit, then 
it is its own witness to holiness in our hearts; 
this is scriptural. 
A wEi.L-DisoiFLiNED mind can easily change 
the current of its thought and leap into a new 
channel. But there are some of us poor human 
beings who depend upon times and seasons, and 
they help us amazingly. 
We nuiy grieve the Spirit in our own hearts 
as well as grieve it iu others, when we doubt its 
teachings, aud yield to harassing temptations 
after we have done the best we could under the 
influence of the purest motives. 
We do not admire the person who boasts he 
has no sensibility on any point; avc rather con¬ 
clude he has drifted from all the moorings of 
affection and etiquette, and is not lit for the 
society of the delicate and retined. 
In seasons of trial and perplexity avc have • 
been tempted to think that if wo had only lived 
in the old dispensation, an angel avouUI have 
.visited us with a message, or a vision have 
guided our Indecision. But avc have not availed 
ourselves as fully as is our privilege of the pres¬ 
ence of the Angel of the Convenant in the per¬ 
sonal humanity of Jesus, who weut before us 
through all the stages of life and sorrow. In 
such seasons avc are required to take but one 
step at a time, looking up all the way. 
