;Mws’ fPquitnK&i 
dying. 
BT BARRY CORNWALL. 
Softly b oo away her breath 
Gentle Death! 
Let her leave thee with no strife, 
Tender, mournful, murmuring Life! 
She hath seen her happy day; 
She hath had her bud and blossom; 
Now ehe pales and shrinks away, 
Earth, into thy gentle bosom 1 
She hath done her bidding here; 
Angels dear! 
Bear her perfect sonl above, 
Seraph of the skies—sweet Love! 
Good ehe was, and fair in youth, 
And her mind was seen to soar, 
And her heart was wed to truth; 
Take her, then, for evermore— 
For ever—evermore! 
OUB SOLDIER. 
Another little private 
Mustered in 
The army of temptation 
And of sin! 
Another soldier arming 
For the strife, 
To fight the toilsome battles 
Of a life. 
Another liitle sentry, 
Who will etand 
On guard, while evils prowl 
On every hand, 
Lord 1 our little darling 
Guide and save, 
’Mid the perils of the march 
To the grave! [ Pacific Monthly. 
■ ■ - » • ■» ■ - 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
FLOWERS, AND A HERBARIUM. 
Spring has come again! Everybody feels its 
sweet influence, and everybody rejoices; for in 
spite of April’s tears, we love her changeful 
skies and soft air. The tall elms arc covered 
with modest brown flowers; the poplar waves 
its catkins of delicate gray; and the red maple 
is ablaze with scarlet blossoms. Was there ever 
so sweet a spring as this ? The fragrant arbutus 
trailing its perfumed wreath over last year’s 
faded leaves, seems a type of coming peace; the 
notes of robin aud blue bird blend pleasantly 
with the songs of our happy, joyful hearts. 
There is gladness in every countenance. No, 
there was never a spring like this! 
The “ harvest-time of flowers” Is coming on 
speedily, and how many of the Rural girls are 
ready to glean among the abundant sheaves? 
You all love flowers, of course. Some one ha6 
beautifully called them “ God’s undertones of 
encouragement to the children of earth.” Wil- 
berforce 6ays they are His “smi)e6. :> Plant 
them, then, to beautify tho luwa <m.a ; 
gather them to set on your dining-table, work- 
stand, and piano; not in stiff combinations, 
where grace of outline is lost, and colors inhar- 
moniously contrasted, bnt follow your better 
judgement, and let the crystal vase uphold clus¬ 
tered roses, red and white; azure for-gel-me- 
nots, set round with sprays of mignonette, or 
spikes of the creamy-belled yucca against green 
Iris-swords. Let there he overllowering baskets 
of myrtle starred with bright verbenas, and fla¬ 
grant of alyssum; cool beds of moss Inlaid with 
scarlet cactus blooms ; and plates of pansies 
edged with muskthose great golden and pur¬ 
ple-hearted pansies whose faint sweetness steals 
over the senses like strains of saddest music. 
Use them freely; they will refine and spiritual¬ 
ize the home atmosphere, aud become tbe source 
of purest enjoyment. You will want them, too, 
for personal adornment; long shoots of German 
ivy, dewy rose-lmds, wreaths of the briiliant 
cypress vine, and drooping fuchsias. I once 
saw a snowy calla worn with happiest effect 
amid masses of “midnight hair,” but had the 
lady been less Juno-like in form and carriage 
the flower would have been lost, so that after 
all, your own good taste must be consulted. 
How many of you have a well prepared her¬ 
barium I should like to know ? Not a great 
many I dare say, but now is just the time to be¬ 
gin a collection No matter it you haven’t 
studied botany, you can press flowers just as 
well, though you will need the scientific names 
when you arrange them. The secret of preserv¬ 
ing them is only to dry the plants as. quickly as 
possible, under pressure enough to keep the 
parts from wrinkling, and any way in which you 
can do this best, la the best. way. Small flowers 
do very well iti heavy books, while larger ones 
need a weight of several pounds. As a general 
rule, wild flowers are preferable to cultivated 
ones; yellow ones are the most apt to keep 
without lading 
But I must tell you about my herbarium. I 
had finished the theoretical part of Botany, and 
analyzed many flowers; but the Prof, said if I 
wished to enjoy the study thoroughly, f must 
make a “ hortu» rtecuis," as he classically termed 
it. I had the prospect, of abundant leisure one 
summer, and resolved to follow out the sugges¬ 
tion. I caused an old grind stone to be carried 
into the garret, and reinforcing that by a pair of 
iron w,edges, Webster’s Unabridged, and a pair 
of flat-irons, I began operations. The first issues 
of the press were sorry looking objects; the ad¬ 
der’s tongues had twisted themselves into real 
ugliness; my delicate spring-beauties were sadly 
crumpled; and the trill 1 unis had passed beyond 
all hope of recognition, i thought the flowers 
were at fault, and waited for others to blossom, 
but the result was the same as before, and look¬ 
ing at the case from every point of view, I was 
forced to the opinion that my weights were in- 
suftlcient; so I procured some pressing boards 
and a set of screws—then I began my task anew, 
with a zeal sufficient for greater undertakings, 
and from this critical time victory perched on 
my banner. I hunted the forests for miles 
around, discovering marvels enough in quaint 
flower-growths fully to repay my searches. 
Thus was I led to the very inner temple of Na¬ 
ture, to her dew-gemmed shrine —hung round 
with the wild rose’s spiciest garlands. She told 
me where the bluest violets openod their starry 
eyes, where the shy orchis unfolded its purple 
banner of bloom, and the lady's slipper trod the 
moist earth so dnintly. 
The mechanical part of the process grew less 
irksome as I gained skill and practice. I had 
some great triumphs, especially in the line of 
water plants. I tried a tagittarla first, though 
the flowers were so fragile and the leaves so 
thick, that it seemed probable I should crush 
the one- in eudeavoring to dry the other; hut I 
succeeded, and tried uext. a superb water-lily; 
that was also good; then I tried a nelnmbium — 
the queenliest flower of all. By the aid of judi¬ 
cious surgery, plenty of cotton, and a free use 
of mucilage in regard to stamens I secured a 
rare speeimeu. Grasses and grains I delighted 
in, even the dock made a better figure in my 
collection than a roee. As for ferns, they were 
my especial pride. I knew very little about the 
Order Filices when I begau pressing, but gradu¬ 
ally made the acquaintance of the leading varie¬ 
ties. I shall never forget the joy that siezed me 
when I discovered the walking and climbing 
ferns, or the stately royal-flowering, most of all 
when I settled beyond a doubt that a certain 
sphinx of the wood which evaded identification 
the whole summer long, was really the rattle¬ 
snake fern. 
I have some trophies from foreign lands now 
— heaths from the broad moors of England; 
flowers from Italian soil; Scottish ferns; and 
delicate bios=oms from Alpine heights. I have 
some, too, l 'om southern grounds, from Vicks¬ 
burg, Port Hudson, Savannah and many a Vir¬ 
ginian bai te field. I like to look at all these 
occasionlj , each flower has its history, suggest¬ 
ing peac- ul rambles, it may be, or else the 
friendly 1 md that gathered it; and the faded 
petals g w with more than earthly radiance as 
I dreamily turn the sheets. 
All that summer in my walks by a stream, I 
had noticed it patch of ragged weeds, and 
wondered what their blossoms would be. Just 
after I bad detected buds upon them I was called 
from home for a few days. One morning after 
my return, I started fora fern In the “Lester 
woods.” My little dog was wild with delight 
when I took down my shaker and ifksket, and 
so we two set out in great glee, over the road, 
across the wheat 6tubble, and down the hill. I 
had crossed the creek on a moss-grown log, 
bowed my head beneath tbe bit cites’festooning 
of wild vines, and was sauntering along watch¬ 
ing the dragon-flies on the water, and repeating 
softly to myself Mrs. Browning’s beautiful 
poem about Pan and the reeds. I think Dime 
must have felt a consciousness of beauty then 
and there, why else did L: crouch at my feet 
with such an appreciative look in bis eyes? I 
drew a snort, quick uremu, oazzica ana Ditnaca 
by a flood of rarest radiance ! 1 stood in royal 
presence — before my despised weeds—but what 
a sea of glory had surged over them! Had they 
garnered the sunbeams’ light and warmth on 
their nodding stems? Hud they stolen their 
tint from the glowing west? There they were, 
each glorious, bee-breasted flower flashing and 
gleaming, brilliant, and beautiful. I knew at 
once they were the Indian's lire blossoms, and 
6iiruly they bad caught on their delicate petals 
the very spirit of flame. It seemed a sacrilege 
to cat even one of them—but I repaid myself for 
the sacrifice by a daily visit, while they burned 
away on pyree of resplendent glory. 
And so my Lobelia cardinal!® is not a faded 
fiower to me. It stirs the memory of that gold¬ 
en August morning with ita cool shadows shift¬ 
ing over the rippling stream. I see again the 
green log stretching from shore to shore be¬ 
neath the elms and ivy; the darting minnows 
and the dragon-flies; Dime trotting demurely 
by my side; but best of all, I look once more 
upou my matchless crimson blossoms. 
O, wondrous flowers! perchance in yonder 
far Ofl land of blessed silence and perpetual rest, 
ye stand in shining vestments by the flowing 
stream, and even as in this lower world, they 
who behold your careful fashioning, are em¬ 
boldened to draw nearer unto Him, who is the 
Maker and Preserver of all. 
April 13th, 1865. Dore Hamilton. 
FEMININE TOPICS. 
Several of the Paris journals speak against 
tbe extremely dicollctte style of druss which the 
ladies have adopted at the balls this season in 
tbe French c&pltol. “What remain* at the 
present day of women’s dress,” says M. E. Tcx- 
ier, in the Siecle, “ is so small that it is hardly 
worth talking about. Ladies are almost attired 
like the natives in South America —with no¬ 
thing bat a necklace.” 
Mrs. Andrew Allison, residing in Beaver 
County, Ohio, lost week gave birth to four 
healthy children. Some twenty months ago 
Mrs. Allison gave birth to three daughters. 
These seven children, born within a period of 
two years, were, at last accounts, doing well, as 
was also their mother. 
It is announced that Garibaldi s daughter, 
Torcsita, baa just given birth, at Caprera, to a 
boy, who, hy bis grand father's desire, has been 
christened Lincoln, in honor of the “ American 
President who has abolished slavery.” 
Tub daughter of John Brown is teachings 
school of little contrabands in a room of Gov. 
Wise’s house, where her father’s death warrant 
was signed, “The whirligig of time brings all 
things even.” 
A little house well filled, a little land well 
tilled, and a little wife well willed. 
An obedient wife commands her husband. 
UNDER THE LEAVES. 
Thick green leaves front the soft brown earth, 
Happy spring-time hath called them forth; 
First faint promises or summer bloom 
BreatheB from the fragrant, sweet perfume. 
Under the leaves. 
Lift them! what marvellous beauty lies 
Hidden beneath, from our thougthless eyes! 
May flowers, rosy or purest white, 
Lift their cups to the sudden light, 
Under the leaves. 
Are there no lives whose holy deeds— 
Seen hy no eyes save his who reads 
Motive and action—in silence grow 
Into rare beauty, and hud and blow 
Under the leaves? 
Fair white flowers of faith and trust, 
Springing from spirits bruised and crushed; 
Blossoms of love, rose-tinted and bright, 
Touched and painted with heaven’s own light, 
Under the leaves— 
Full fresh clusters of duty, borne, 
Fairest of all in that shadow grown; 
Wondrous the fragrance that sweet and rare 
Comes from the flower-cups hidden there, 
Under the leaves. 
Though uuseen by onr vision dim, 
Bud and blossom are known to Him ; 
Wait wo content for his heavenly ray— 
Wait till onr Master Himself one day 
Llfteth the leaves. 
[Church. Monthly. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
ENTHUSIASM AND FANATICISM. 
BY E. 8. C. 
Nothing Is more curious than the philosophy 
of epithets. Seldom are epithets soberly in¬ 
vented, still more seldom are they soberly 
employed. They may be pithy, and to a certain 
extent characteristic; but when we 6ee the 
flight of the barbed shaft, we always Infer that 
malice plumed it. 8o it has come to pass that 
6uch expressions have lost their original force; 
and when we hear one man called a traitor, and 
auother a fanatic, we take it for granted that the 
individual so designated differed in polities or 
creed, from the person who uttered the charge. 
No two terms are more loosely employed than 
“Fanatic” and “Enthusiast,” The flret we 
apply to the radical, reforming politician or 
religionist, if he represents views different from 
our own ; and the latter is the term which we 
would apply to the same person, if he were onr 
friend or belonged to our party. Saving this 
distinction, we coolly consign our acquaintance 
to companionship with the Catharine De 
Medicis and the Joun Browns of our race, or 
enrol them with the lofty spirits of Galileo, 
Jodson and the peerless Washington. 
What would be the need of jnch epithets at 
all, If we had not secret conviction, founded on 
troUi, AL«A U» «• wwfl jjrbaps, there io 
much of both qualities In every community. 
That common men feel more than they ever 
have the power aud the opportunity to express, 
is & truism ; and could we only get at the hidden 
convictions and repressed impulses of men, wc 
should too often find the smouldering fires of 
fanaticism, and sometimes discover the steady, 
serene rays of pure and hallowed enthusiasm. 
Now, when wc call ft mau a fanatic, do we 
apply to bini a very had name? May be not be 
an enthusiast, with a mental twist? —his mo¬ 
tives all right, his heart pure, nay, even over¬ 
flowing with philanthropy, but with something 
awry ? — the balancing power wanting — the 
governor lost? When we paint Fanaticism as 
the spirit of the Inquisition—the genius of the 
rack and the thumb screw—if we stop there are 
we altogether right ? That inquisitor, with heart 
of stone, the rigid lines of whose stern features, 
no groaus or shrieks ol his poor victims ever 
softened with pity; are his motives as hellish as 
his actions ? No; that Is his peculiar way of glo¬ 
rifying God. Those unbending eyes have melted 
at the contemplation of our Redeemer's agony; 
and with sufferings voluntarily' endured, torture 
equal to the torture he Inllicte, with penance, 
with scourgings, long fastings, and the midnight 
vigil, the deluded wretch does, its he supposes, his 
Master ’b work. Of course, we have but little 
charity for such a character. We condemn his 
actions. We would restrain him, incarcerate 
him, hang him — but we cannot impugn his 
motives. 
A fanatic then, as to his motives, may—we do 
not say he always does—stand on the same level 
with the enthusiast. So true Is this, that one is 
sometimes at a loss to daclde the class to which 
an individual is to he assigned. The decision is 
often left to history. It is astonishing how few 
of the really great men who participated in onr 
earliest struggle for independence, believed that 
a Republican form of Government was either 
expedient or feasible. Washington was among 
the few who saw the light clearly. No doubt 
bis coadjutors, many of them, thought him a 
fanatic; but who, to-day, in the light of history, 
does not recognise that sublimcst of all men us 
the truest and purest enthusiast ? Luther was 
a fanatic to the times In which he lived — but an 
enthusiast for all time. The same people called 
Peter tub Hermit an enthusiast, and Galileo 
a fanatic; hut history reverses the decree. 
Enthusiasm recognizes the moral and physi¬ 
cal relations of things ; it has a wide horizon. 
Fanaticism spurns all considerations except the 
object desired; it has a narrow vision -secs light 
in only one direction. Enthusiasm as conforma¬ 
ble with reason, Indeed, as being its highest 
manifestation, has confidence, can wait. Fanati¬ 
cism rushes on headlong, with boisterous haste, 
and has no patience. Enthusiasm works with 
ordinary means; Fanaticism must, have extraor¬ 
dinary facilities. In a single word, Enthusiasm 
works with God; Fanaticism would either an¬ 
ticipate or supersede Him. What, the world 
wants, is the perception to distinguish between 
them. Fanaticism, to be sure, seldom accom¬ 
plishes anything lu the end, but it retards the 
efforts of enthusiasm. Thousands of schemes 
for the benefit of man have failed, because they 
fell into bad bauds. “Strife Btirs up strife;” 
and a single fanatic in a community will incite 
all to violence, and ruin every philanthropic 
measure. But when Enthusiasm, working with 
God, in obedience to His laws, carrying the gen¬ 
tle messages of peace and good will, conciliating, 
not intimidating, recommending itself by the 
peacefulness of its measures and the sobriety of 
its deportment, marshals its hosts for the amelio¬ 
ration of man, its progress may be retarded, but 
its final success is sure. 
Rochester, N. Y., May, 1865. 
THE OCEAN BOTTOM. 
Mr. Green, the famous diver, tells singular 
stories of his adventures when making search in 
the deep waters of the ocean. He gives some 
new sketches of what he saw at the “ Silver 
Banks,” near Hayti. 
The banks of the coral on which my divings 
were made are about forty miles in length, and 
from ten to twenty in breadth. On this bank 
of coral is presented to the diver one of the 
most beautiful and sublime scenes the eye ever 
beheld. The water varies from ten to one hun¬ 
dred feet in depth, and is so clear that the di¬ 
ver can Bee from two to three hundred feet 
when submerged with but littlu obstruction to 
tbe sight. 
The bottom of the ocetiu, in many places, is 
as smooth as a marble floor; in others It is stud¬ 
ded with corat columns from ten to one hundred 
feet in height, and from one to eighty feet in 
diameter. The tops of those more lofty support 
a myriad of pyramidal pendants, each forming 
a myriad more, giving the reality to the imagin¬ 
ary abode to some water nymph. In other places 
tbe pendants form arch after arch; and as the 
diver stands on the bottom of the ocean and 
gazes through in the deep winding avenue, he 
Cods that they will fill him with as sacred an 
awe as if he were in some old cathedral which 
had long been buried beneath old ocean’s wave. 
Here and there the coral extends even to the sur¬ 
face of the water, as if the loftier columns were 
towers belonging to these stately temples that 
are now in ruins. 
There were countless varieties of diminutive 
trees, shrubs and plants in every crevice of the 
corals where water had deposited the earth. 
They were all of a faint hue, owing to the pale 
light they received, although of every shade, and 
entirely different from plants that I am familiar 
with that vegetate upon dry land! One in par¬ 
ticular attracted my attention; it resembled a 
sea fan of immense size, of variegated colors and 
the most brilliant hue. The fish which inhabit 
these “Silver Banks” I found as different in 
kind as the scenery was varied. They were of 
all forms, colors and sizes—from those of the 
symmetrical gobv to the trlobe-like sun Het» -, 
from thoeo of the dullest hue to the changeable 
dolphin ; from the spots of the leopard to the 
hues of the sunbeam; from the ha unless minnow 
to the voracious shark. 
Some had heads like squirrels, others like cats 
aud dogs; one of small size resembled the bull 
terrier. Some darted through the water like 
meteors, while others could scarcely be seen to 
move. To enumerate and explain all the various 
kiuds of flab I beheld while diving on these 
banks would, were I enough of a naturalist to do 
so, require more than my limits would allow, for 
I am convinced that most of the kinds of fish 
which inhabit the tropical seas, can be found 
there. The sun-fish, saw-fish, white shark, blue 
or shovel-nose sharks, were often seen. 
There were also fish which resembled plants, 
and remained as fixed in their positions as a 
shrub; the only power they possessed was to 
open and shut when in danger. Some of them 
resembled the rose when in fall bloom, and were 
of all hues, There were the ribbon fish, from 
four or five inches to three feet in length; their 
eyes are very large, and protrude like those of a 
frog. 
Another fish was spotted like a leopard, from 
three to ten feet in length. They build their 
houses like beavers, in which they spawn, and 
the male or female watches the egg uutll It 
hatches. I 6aw many specimens of the green 
turtle, some five feet long, which I should think 
would weight from 400 or 500 pounds. 
- ♦ - - — ■ 
CHANCE CHIPS. 
It is better to yield a little than to quarrel a 
good deal. 
Tre moon is the beautiful lily which the earth 
wears upon her bosom. 
A good physician saves, if not always from 
the disease, at least from a bad physician. 
We are toUl to hope and trust, but what’s a 
fellow going to do when he can’t get any trust ? 
To most men, any park looks kindlier and 
smiles more Bwcctly than a sulphurous park of 
artillery. 
The Monks of La Trappe never speak. No 
similar establishment is anywhere known for the 
benefit of women. 
In youth we love and enjoy the most ill-as¬ 
sorted Mends, perhaps more than in old age 
the best-assorted. 
Everything weighty may, like a rock, be 
placed on a point, whereupon a child’s finger 
can set it lu rotation. 
Tuerb is not perhaps a sound either rural or 
vocal in the whole compass of nature, that cau 
be spared half so well as some iutonatious of 
the human voice. 
A good retreat is reckoned the masterpiece 
in the art of war; aud at no time cau a retreat 
be executed with such order, force, and security, 
as just before the battle. 
albktli fffiiisiitgs. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
A PRAYER. 
Dear Saviour ; let thy dying love 
Through every bosom flow; 
And let thy Spirit from above, 
Enlighten all below. 
Let gentle words from Thee he given, 
To every weary sonl; 
And let thy love, which makes earth heaven, 
Our passions all control. 
Then when our earthly race is o’er, 
Reach down to us thy hand, 
And place ua on that peaceful shore, 
Among Thy Angel hand. 
Cuba, N. Y. 
Jbnnt. 
Written for Moore’s Rural Ncw-Yorkor. 
WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST 1 
BY L. M. G. 
There is one vital question which is con¬ 
stantly recurring to every human being, and 
which every human being is continually answer¬ 
ing. It is the question which interests all, and 
upon the right determination of which rests the 
future happiness of all. “What think’xe of 
Christ ? ” Is he your Savior ! Will he restore 
you to your lost estate of glory, if you put your 
trust in Him ? Is He the Lord of Glory? 
These questions will not remain unanswered. 
You decide them in the negative, or affirm and 
believe them every hour of your life. Christ 
claims to he the Son of God, and so represents 
himself to men. Will you heed the evidence of 
his character ? On the poised balances of your 
decision hang all your hopes of life. aDd hap¬ 
piness. 
Man, weighed down with toil and care, leaves 
his daily labors to seek repose. He finds relief 
iu sleep, bnt with the dawn his tolls and suffer¬ 
ings return. His life is one continued round of 
care and anxiety. Surely, this is not the pur¬ 
pose and end of his existence. 
The cry of the overworn human heart is—“Oh, 
where shall rest be found! ” The great God of 
the Universe has heard this cry, He opens the 
gates of Heaven and bids us enter aud be happy. 
But we must enter through the gate. Chri3T is 
the gate. “What think ye of Christ?” Are 
you willing to enter through that gate ? 
It is not given to men to assist Ciirist in their 
salvation. The spontaneous utterance of the 
60 ul, when the glory and power of Christ are 
first discovered is, “What shall I do to be 
saved?" The sinner can do nothing — but be 
saved. No rank, no station, no power in the 
sinner can hasten or assist his salvation. 
When Joun tiie Baptist heard of the works 
of Christ, he sent two of his disciples to ask if 
he were the one that should come. Christ an¬ 
swered them:—“ Go and show* John again those 
things which ye do hear and 6ec: the blind re- 
ccivo thoir sight, ancl the luma walk tho lepers 
arc cleansed, aud the'deaf bear; the dead are 
raised up, and the poor have the Gospel 
preached unto them.” 
Surely here is proof abundant. Are these 
things the result of human wisdom ? Is this 
the fruit of an impostor’s planting? No ! — 
Christ is the Son of God, and He will make 
good His word, that He will save all who come 
unto Him and believe on His name. 
A CHANGE OF HEART. 
The word of God gives hope here. It is une¬ 
quivocal in its declarations in respect to the pro¬ 
vision that has been made for the recovery of 
transgressors. The vilest sinner may be res¬ 
cued. Where the most incorrigible habits have 
fastened on a man like shackles and chains, there 
is a power to solve the links, and to melt them 
as with a lightning touch. There is a power to 
change character this side the grave, but where 
is there evidence that there is any power to 
change it on the other 6ide? There arc solemn 
declaration* to tho contrary in the word of God. 
But it maybe said, “If men die. having re¬ 
pented only oil their death bed, or at the last 
moment, like tho thief on the cross, how 
can they be happy in the other lifcj?” It is 
of more consequence that u man should have his 
will sot right, and that he should have the germs 
of reformation established, than that he should 
have reached any particular measure of attain¬ 
ment. H a man goes into the other life with his 
tastes Just begluniug to conform to the law of 
God, though he he at the very lowest point of 
development, there Is hope that he may have 
progress there. It must be that there is provis¬ 
ion for the growth after death of a man who 
dies under such circumstances. Education is so 
extremely limited here, that if we attain any 
considerable degree of blessedness, it must be 
because provision has been made for our growth 
In the future life. What we want is the seed- 
form, the germ of holiness; and the smallest 
beginnings that touch the whole character are suf¬ 
ficient to lay the foundation for the expectation 
of blessedness. But where there is not even 
this ; Avherc tho will is against God, and the heart 
is opposed to the divine law, and the life is 
Btained and disfigured, what expectation can 
there be that men dying in their sins, and 
unchanged, will be forgiven, aud will rise to 
an immortality aud blessedness.— Rev. H. W. 
Beecher. 
__ ■ . - 
We expect and hope and pray'for a crown of 
glory, but we need not expect it without labor. 
God has scattered Christian duties, like grains 
ot gold, all through the sands of life, aud we 
must pick up from the du6t of the earth, one 
hy one, the grains of gold from which to mould 
our own immortal diadem. The more abundant 
the grains wo gather, the richer will be our 
crown, lie who gathers not these golden grains 
will never bo king. 
