do not like to see all the fair growth of twig and 
stem cut and dwarfed like that of the Chinese 
gardens. But there must be training and prun¬ 
ing, or by-aud-by there will be gnarled and 
barren branches. If ever the tree is tit for the 
garden above, the pruning time must come. 
And There is no mistaken tenderness with our 
Father. If the branch be unfruitful, He will cut 
it away, even though it be full of shining leaves, 
and glowing blossoms, and singing buds; but 
the fruitful branch, however gnarled and un¬ 
sightly, He will spare. Enola. 
iug social intercourse comfortable and blessed, 
by banishing everything that might suggest the 
“ wolf at the door.” 
To return to the ladies of Wcinsberg. Those 
estimable dames must have been possessed of 
muscles which would have put to shame the 
brawn of a Heenan or a Wisdshtf; tor I assure 
you that the jolly burgher of those days was no 
light load to carry. He was a regular Wottter 
Van Twiller. There is no case of a similar 
display of feminine muscle that I can recall just 
now, except that rather apocryphal story of the 
daughter of Charles XII., King of Sweden, 
who is said to have carried Eictiardt, the king’s 
private secretary, on her shoulders through the 
court-yard of the palace to the gate, lest his 
tracks in the snow might be discovered and be¬ 
tray their fondness for each other. There was 
muscle in those days! 
But this is wanderiug again, and I have prom¬ 
ised to deduce a moral principle from the two 
examples of subterfuge or deception given in 
my former article. 
It is a very simple matter to do, 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker, 
UNREST. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New Yorker 
HOME IN THE STORM. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker 
MY .PEARL. 
BT ANNIE HERBERT 
The storm is wild without. The rain 
Dashes in fitful fury on the pane.. 
And through the night's thick curtain, closing fast, 
Rashes with shnddering moan the rising blast; 
Trembling the tall trees bow, then proudly rise, 
Tossing defiance to the angry skies, 
While gathering shadows hide the murky cloud, 
And robe the valley In a starless shroud. 
It is a fearful night; 
And yet within the fire glows warm and bright, 
The lam;)- are lit, and kindly words are spoken; 
Hands clasp in faith that never ehall be broken. 
Safe in the .Egis of a dear home life, 
We heed but little the wild tempest’s strife, 
While silently, upon onr spirits fall— 
Sweet peace and hope from God. who lovetli all. 
How wearily we troad the paths of life! 
Though hand in hand, our sonle are strangers yet! 
We spend Life’s fleeting day in care and strife, 
Each toiling on, until the snn is set. 
Onr hopes, like summer roses, fade and die, 
And on the thorns onr bleeding feet must press. 
We gaze adown the future with a sigh, 
And for the past seek but forgetfulness. 
We dimly yearn for good we ne'er have known; 
Ever for reet. our weary spirits crave. 
Yet shrink with trembling dread, to pass alone 
Through the mysterious portals of the grave. 
We cling to earth when all its joys are dead, 
When ever}- hope has crumbled into dust; 
When from Life’s sky the sunlight all has fled— 
Onr treasures given o’er to “ moth and rust 
Remembering not, how beautiful and blest, 
The *' Better Home ” beyond Death's swelling tide, 
Where earth-worn pilgrims find eternal rest, 
With every weary longing satisfied. 
Oh: pitying Father, let ns clasp Thy hand! 
As blindly through these tangled paths we stray, 
Guide Thou our feet until we firmly stand 
In the calm sunlight of Thy Perfect Day. 
Attica, N. Y. 
A chill, gray night! aud o'er yon hill 
I see the pale moon rise. 
But her pale light's not half so sweet 
As that of your dear eyes— 
My Pearl, my Margarita ! 
A WOMAN ON WATERFALLS, 
Mrs. L. Maria Child writes a letter to the 
Independent, in the course of which she uses the 
following language in regard to the latest fash¬ 
ions in hair: 
Thinking of the great and blessed work done 
during these last four years by women iu the 
Sanitary Commissions, the hospitals, and the 
school-houses for the emancipated, I seemed to 
see a bright light dawning on our future career. 
But the vision receded iu the distance, when I 
looked from my window and saw a bevy of dam¬ 
sels sailing by with hen coops in their skirts, and 
upon their heads a rimless pnu of straw with a 
feather in it—utterly useless for defense against 
wind or sun. 
To make this unbecoming head-gear still move 
ungraceful, there descends from it something 
called by the flowing name of waterfall, hut 
which in fact looks more like a cabbage in a net, 
tricked out with beads aud wampum. If I had 
met them in Western forests, I should have ta¬ 
ken them for Ojibbeway squaws, but their dress 
was a la mode T.iritierme, This tyranny of France 
is, I suppose, one of the things which must be 
endured, because it cannot be helped, till our 
brains are better developed. In process of time, 
I trust the Empress Eugenie will 6leep with her 
illustrious an esters, and that no other fantastic 
queen of fa-.non will come after her, to lead 
the civilizec world such a fool’s dance. What a 
set of mot, Keys we are, in feathers and furbe¬ 
lows, danei g to the tune of that imperial show- 
woman. 
The frost-bound lawn has blossomed out 
In stars, this chill, gray night, 
But all their silver bloom is dark 
Before your eyes’ dear lightr— 
My Pearl, my Margarita ! 
hi. 
A link of golden hours is mine! 
I feel within me stir 
Thoughts that are wild and passionate! 
Be their interpreter— 
My Pearl, my Margarita ! 
Here, as in 
every other other qustion of morals, the princi¬ 
ple hinges upon the motive. I do not believe 
that it is ever right to “do evil that good may 
come of it," which doctrine iu religious matters 
Ctrtl, Bishop of Alexandria, is said to have 
been the first to act upon; but I am sure that 
&nch an exercise of wit as will extricate one, by 
a harmless equivocation or deception, from the 
necessity of doing a great wrong, is not only 
justifiable but praiseworthy 
What au argument, by the way, against the 
happiness of the married state it would have 
furnished to euudry cynical celibates, if those 
■ft einsberg fmucin bad betaken themselves to 
carrying off their household good9, and left their 
fat lords to perish t There is one incident of the 
story which, I must confess, somewhat staggers 
my own faith in its authenticity, and that Is, 
that evert wife carried off her husband! Were 
there then no miserable or discontented wives in 
those days? 0 happy, happy age! the calm 
weather of whose domestic felicity was never 
rutiled by matrimonial squalls —what would 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL. 
“ For 1 am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, 
for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one 
that bcllevcth.'’—Rom. 1. It.!, 
The Gospel is the great remedial agent for all 
the ills of a sinful and fallen world. It redeems 
the soul and the body of those who receive it, 
from the evils to which actual transgression 
subjects them, and makes them new creatures 
in Christ. It restores the lost image in which 
they were created, aud makes them “Jielrs of 
God, and joint heirs with Jests Christ, to an 
inheritance incorruptible and undeflled, and 
which fadeth not away.” 
The Gospel has never yet been so fully, aud 
generally received, that it could accomplish its 
full mission—hence has arisen the feeling with 
many who have not understood Its import, that 
something more was needed; and they have 
organized secret aud other societies, which like 
all man’6 work has proved very detective, while 
the Gospel of Christ will bear every test, until 
its entire adaptability to the wants of humanity 
is fully proved. m. k. 
Your fair cheek crimsons with the glow 
Of love’s own, deepest hue; 
Oh! fall upon my breast, and let 
Yonr thoughts come throbbing through 1 
My Pear’., my Margarita ! 
Philadelphia. Pa. 
Written l'or.Moore'a Rural New-Yorker. 
JUSTIFIABLE DECEPTION.-NO. II. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
SUMMER MORNINGS.-No. IV. 
Riding down -street this morning, I 
counted more than fifty children at the win¬ 
dows and along the walks. Some were ragged 
and dirty, yet a few sweet faces were peeping 
out from tangled tresses. Others were neat and 
clean, with white aprons and smooth ringlets. 
Little brown houses were running over with 
their wealth of children: 
“ Heads and shoulders clear outside, 
And fair young faces all ablush: 
Perhaps you may hare seen some day, 
Roses crowding the self-same way. 
Out of a wilding wayside bush.’’ 
Some had attained to *he dignity of protectors, 
and wee, little things, with hands folded behind 
them, were toddling along by their side, while 
roguish eyes looked defiance at “big brothers.” 
As I watched them, a remark, which I heard a 
lady make a few days ago, came into my min d, 
In speaking of the method of training adopted 
by a certain family, she 6aid: — “ If they wish 
to make machines of their children, they can 
do so; I shall not of mine.” 
No, but they will of themselves. We are all 
creatures of habit. The tendency of habit is 
toward machiqe-like action; and the action 
may better be right than wrong. 
It is very pleasant to talk of the freedom of 
Nature, of allowing the natural powers to de¬ 
velop in their own way 
A friend at my elbow insists that if I propose 
in this article, in accordance with a hint thrown 
out in my last, to treat somewhat of unjustifi¬ 
able deception, my title is defective, by reason 
of not including the whole subject discussed. 
His point, I admit, is well taken, but I am like 
one of those moneyed institutions called banks, 
I never correct a mistake unless the correction 
will result in my own favor. Or do I not resem¬ 
ble, in this, people in general, who having once 
committed a blunder persist in the error all their 
days, because they arc too indolent or wrong¬ 
headed to go back and rec tify it ? 
Having cut short my last communication for 
fear of trespassing on your space, it would rea¬ 
sonably seem that I ought to hasten to the sub¬ 
ject in hand; hut unfortunately I feel very much 
in the humor of that honest Dutch tumbler 
whom Dikdbich Knickerbocker tells about; 
who, having taken a start of three miles in order 
to jump over a little hill, found himself out of 
breath when he reached the foot of it, and so sat 
down until he had recovered his wind aud then 
walked slowly over it. If you find fault with 
the dilatory pace of this article, you must ad¬ 
mire the anility with ^bkS I plunged in mediae 
FEMININE TOPICS 
It is often a pretty good matrimonial firm that 
consists of three quarters wife and one quarter 
husband. 
A flourishing and estimable charitable so¬ 
ciety in a neighboring city, is called “ The Wid¬ 
ows’ Wood Society.” But is it possible that 
there are any widows in that city who wouldn’t? 
Many of our readers are doubtless aware that 
the favorite drive, in Hyde Park, London, is 
called "The Lady’s Mile.” This name Mi6s 
Braddon has chosen for the title of her next 
literary adventure, which, we understand, is to 
commence in au early number of the “St. 
James’ Magazine,” where it will succeed Mias 
Braddon's last andmost successful work, “ Only 
a Clod.” The latter novel has reached it6 fifth 
edition. 
The Saratoga correspondent of the Boston 
Post writes as follows:—“I have unqualified 
pleasure in mentioning the fall of the waterfall 
— a monstrous “invention of the enemy” of 
beauty, which should have died at its birth. A 
rather pretty fashion of dressing the hair, which 
I venture to call the staple-and-ring style, is get¬ 
ting in vogue with the dames, while ringlets for 
the girls have quite superseded the ugly-plug 
abominations which wagged behind them, like a 
beaver’s tail, a few weeks ago. Among the 
really fashionable women you might as well 
look for a cataract in the. eyes as a waterfall at 
the back of the head. 
There is a woman at Erie, Pennsylvania, 
whom an editor was recently astonished to find 
talked as “pertly” upon oil and oil-wells as any 
person of the opposite sex. She had sites for 
sale of any desirable promise — was quite indif- 
Every man’s life is a continual state of prayer; 
he is no moment free from it, nor can ho possibly 
be so. For all our natural tempers, be they 
what they will,—ambition, covetousness, selfish¬ 
ness, worldly-mindedness, pride, envy, hatred, 
malice, or any other lust whatever, are all of 
them in reality, only so many different kinds 
and forms of a spirit of prayer, which is as in¬ 
separable from the heart as weight is from the 
body. For every natural temper is nothing else 
but a manifestation of the desire and prayer of 
the heart, and shows us how it works and wills; 
and as the heart worketh and willeth, such, and 
no other, in its prayer. All else la only form, 
and fiction. If, therefore, the working desire of 
the heart is not habitually turned towards God, 
If this is not our spirit of prayer, we arc neces¬ 
sarily in a state of prayer towards something 
else, that carries us from God, aud brings all 
kinds of evil into us. For this is the necessity 
of our uature; pray we must, os surely as our 
heart is alive; and, therefore, when the state of 
our heart is not a spirit of prayer to God, we 
pray without ceasing to some other, or part of 
the creation. The man whose heart habitually 
tends towards the riches, honors, powers, or 
pleasures, of this life, is in a continual state of 
prayer towards all these things. His spirit 
stands always bent towards them; they have 
his hope, his love, his taith, and are the many 
gods that he worships. And though when he 
is upon his knees, and uses forms of prayer, he 
directs them to the God of Heaven 
COME AND SEE ME.” 
never take “come and see me,” as a phrase 
meant in earnest. An invitation without circum¬ 
stances is no invitation at all. Depend upon it 
it any man or woman wunts your company, he 
or she will appoint a time tor your visit. Call 
upon me when you can make it convenient; 
drop in as you are passing; make us a visit 
whenever you have an hour or so to spare, are 
social indefiuitlsms by which the men of the 
world understand that they are not expected to 
do the thing requested. When people wish to 
be cheaply polite there is nothing like this kind 
of vagueness. The complimentary small change 
of society should always be taken at a large dis¬ 
count. It is never worth its face or anything 
like it. Yet it is a convenient medium of ex¬ 
change for all that, and heavy debts of gratitude 
that ought to be requited in better coins are 
often paid with it. People who have more pol¬ 
ish than principle use it lavishly—plain, bluut, 
honest men sparingly, or not at all. Whoever 
makes a friendly visit on the strength o( a mere 
“ cnrn<- aud see me,” will be very likely to find 
the family circle as the Arctic circle, and to 
leave It with a chilly feeling about the heart 
that will prevent him from venturing again into 
the 6ame high latitude. But when a whole- 
souled fellow whom you kuow to be your friend, 
grasps you by the hand, and says, “Come and 
dine with me to-day, be sure to come, we shall 
expect you,” go if you can, and you will be all 
the better for it, both in mind and body. 
res, in my last. ’ I 
Justifiable deception! Well, there is no de¬ 
ception which is justifiable — and so the discus¬ 
sion ends, and we are relieved from a task 
voluntarily imposed, to be sure, but begun when 
the mercury was not, as it is now, ninety degrees 
in the shade! But softly, my friend ! I boldly 
assert that the harmony of society depends on 
judicious deception. and if j-ou admit that social 
tranquility is a good and desirable thing, why 
there you have it — Q, E. D. ! 
The habit of deception Is preeminently char¬ 
acteristic of a highly civilized and enlightened 
state of society. The savage, whose “untutored 
mind” has been bewailed in prose and celebrated 
in poetry, conceals nothing. Ilis wretched but, 
or wigwam, hardly shelters him from the dews 
and wind? of heaven; he dips his hand for food 
into the same dish with a dozen swarthy com¬ 
panions, and hardly covers bis person sufficiently 
to meet the requirements which regulate the 
feminine costume of a modern ball-room. The 
first settlers in our country, imitating the candor 
and simplicity of the savage, used to leave the 
latch-string hanging on the outside of the door. 
As their substance increased, they pulled In the 
string, not caring to invite too curious scrutiny 
of their ameliorated domestic economy. Then 
up went window-shades, and down went carpets 
— and so on to the latest Improvements in the 
modem dwelling, which consist of double doors 
all around, and an iron fence with a padlock. 
You will at once see that I have pursued a 
course somewhat similar to Cowfer’s, iu his 
“ Task,” who follows curefully the sublime pro¬ 
gress of civilization up from the three-legged 
stool to the modem sofa. I will not go into the 
question of our fashionable attire, by which It 
la generally kuown both sexes conceal certain 
physical defects or short comings, but will 
glance for a moment at some of the enlightened 
uses of language. 
“ Language, 
and the practice would 
he well, if children fell naturally into pretty 
ways, and right methods of thought and action. 
We admire physical grace and beauty, but most 
of that we see is the result of education—of ac¬ 
quired habit. We admire mental power and 
Vigor, hut if the mental machinery be wrong, or 
not under control, we have the benefit of nei¬ 
ther, even though the natural powers are great. 
We love noble souls, manifesting themselves in 
deeds of kindness and benevolence, hut perhaps 
there never was one yet, whose useful action 
was not impaired by wrong habits of thought 
and feeling, acquired in youtb. 
We do not know the strength of habit until 
we try to break its bonds. In one year such a 
web may be woven around us that years will not 
suffice to extricate us from its meshes. We 
know how the manners of our vouih 
i, yet these 
are in reality the gods of Lis heart, aud in a sad 
sente of the words, he really worships them in 
spirit and in truth. Hence, there is so much 
praying, aud yet so little of true piety amongst 
us. The bells arc daily calling us to Church, 
our closets abound with manuals of devotion, 
yet how little fruit! It is all for this reason, 
our prayers are not our own; they are not the 
abundance of our own heart; arc not found and 
felt within us, as we feel our own hunger and 
thirst; but are only so many borrowed forms of 
speech which we use at certain times aud occa¬ 
sions. And, therefore, It is no wonder that 
little good comes of it. 
What beueflt could It have beeu to the Phari¬ 
see, if, with a heart Inwardly full of his own 
pride and self-exaltation, he bad outwardly hung 
down his head, smote upon his heart, and bor¬ 
rowed the Publican's words, “ God be merci¬ 
ful to me a sinner?” What greater good can 
be expected from our praying iu the words of 
David, or singing his psalms seven times a day, 
if our heart has no more of the spirit of David 
in it than the heart of the Pharisee had of the 
spirit of the humble Publican?— Bin, Law. 
may some¬ 
times trouble us in the society in which we are 
afterward placed. We have all felt, in our pur¬ 
suit of knowledge, the effect of our dreamy 
days and hours of surface - thought, before we 
realized, in any degree, the value of what we 
sought; and all who have risen to a higher life, 
know the sorrow and aDguIsh ol the struggle to 
keep the heart from its old desires and its old 
tendencies. 
Henrt Ward Beecher believes that there 
should be schools where may he taught love and 
patience and temperance,—all that makes onr 
lives good and beautiful; and why not? Surely 
a child may be taught to restrain his temper, to 
be temperate in his daily living, to exercise 
charity; and then when the Holy Spirit has 
changed the motives and intents of the heart, 
there will be uo hindrance, no friction in the 
action 
CHANCE CHIPS 
Ride as we will on the swiftest billow of to¬ 
day, we are out of 6ight of yesterday. 
A coward may fight; a coward may even con¬ 
quer; but a coward can never forgive. 
To know how to listen is u great art; it is to 
know how to gain instruction from every one. 
By education men become easy to lead, but 
difficult to drive; easy to govern, but difficult 
to enslave. 
He who receives a good turn, should never 
forget it; lie who forgets one, should never re¬ 
member it. 
In that black, unseemly engine, the press, Ilea 
the world’s great strength, and time's most 
formidable toe. 
All authority flows from reason, and ought 
to lose Its force In proportion as it deviates 
from its source. 
The earth is a tender and kind mother to the 
husbandman; and yet at one season he always 
harrows her bosom, and at another plucks her 
ears. 
When we consider the great work of creation, 
the grand cousummation toward which all things 
are contributing, the humblest life and existence 
seems of au infinite worth and dignity. 
Whoever teaches us boldly to combat the 
mauifold doubts aud assaults of life, enables us 
to win the crown of victory. Special care ought 
therefore to be taken in education to teach what 
true courage is 
mals for the purpose of exhibition. The Prefect 
of Perpignan recently passed through one of 
them in company with an officer of the gcn6 
d’armes. The latter pointed out to the magis¬ 
trate a woman, whose husband, a bear ti alner, 
had been devoured by his pupil at a moment 
when instinct got the better of education. “ I 
have nothing left,” 
That school, however, should he home. 
We, who are in part educated, need not de¬ 
spair ! It is almost never too late to begin. If 
we, at twenty-one, may look back with inex¬ 
pressible regret to see what we might have be¬ 
come by careful watching of every thought and 
deed, by control of our minds and hearts; we 
also can look forward hopefully to what we may 
become by beginning now. The work will be a 
long one, and tt is not to be done by a heavy 
stroke here and then; which we feel nnable to 
make, but by the light touchee of each moment; 
only requiring thought and patience, and an 
earnest seeking for help from above. We may 
take our education into our own hands, and 
being watchful masters, we may acquire ease 
and grace of manner, teach onr confused 
thoughts, struggling for utterance, to flow forth 
clear and bright; and always with God’s help, 
make our hearts pure and beautiful,—fit places 
for the indwelling of the Holt Spirit. 
We do not favor too much restraint and prun¬ 
ing. Wc like to hear the stream laugh and 
tinkle, and see it hide itself, now under one 
bank and now under the other, and leap over 
stones and fall Into deep places; but we do not 
want It choked with debris, or divided and lost 
in the sand and clay, and dried by the heat. We 
said the woman; “lam ab- 
| solutely without a roof to shelter me and the 
poor animal.” “Animal!” exclaimed the astou- 
ished prefect; “ you don’t moan to pay that you 
keep the bear that devoured your husband!” 
“ Alas!” she replied, “ it is all that is left to me 
of the poor, dear man.” 
The daughters of the F. F. V.’e,, in Richmond, 
are now engaged in working on clothing, lor the 
United States Government Bureau. Sir hund¬ 
red are thuB employed, at their own residences, 
eamiBg about live dollars per week. The cloth¬ 
ing they make is intended for the colored troops 
in Texas. It would be a matter of some inter¬ 
est, to ascertain the opinion entertained of the 
National authorities by these feminine represen¬ 
tatives of Virginia secession. They might be 
excused from indulging in a few petulant out¬ 
bursts on reflecting that they earn their own 
raiment by manufacturing garments for men 
whom they had long trodden beneath their feet. 
The colored soldier and the white female seces¬ 
sionist. have, in many instances, changed posi¬ 
tions, in u most remarkable manner .—liosion 
Transcript. 
says a certain witty Frenchman, 
“was given to man in order that he might con¬ 
ceal his thoughts.” Irony and Hyperbole are 
two very common and very much admired 
What is the former but a 
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 
of gold, all through the sands of life, and we 
must pick from the dust of the earthy one by 
one, the grains of gold from which to mould 
our own Immortal diadem. The more abundant 
the grains we gather, the richer will be our 
crown. He who gathers not these golden grains 
will never be king. 
figures of speech, 
most unmitigated lie, and the latter a willful and 
perverse exaggeration ? 
Thus you see how deception, In the best hu¬ 
man communities, colors every conscious act of 
existence. You live in a house elaborately stuc¬ 
coed to represent stone; your wood-work Is 
grained and your furniture veneered; you sit 
down in a padded dress-coat, and eat mock- 
turtle soup with a silver-plated spoon. 
The universality ol these several species of 
deception pleads strongly in favor of their mo¬ 
rality. They must at least bo harmless, since 
they are practiced by so many of the really good 
and virtuous. Another point In their favor is 
that they “take in” very few people. And 
those who practice them know this very well. 
Rightly considered, they are only certain eco¬ 
nomical ifiethods we have of veiling over the 
rough ahdl unsightly facts of existence, and mak- 
If the arrow of prayer is to enter heaven it 
must be shot from a soul full-bent. Prayer 
draws all the Christian graces into its focus. It 
draws Charity with her lovely train, Repent¬ 
ance with her holy sorrow, Faith with her ele¬ 
vated eyes, Hope with her grasped anchor, 
Benevolence with her open hands, Zeal looking 1 
far and wide to bless, aud Humility looking.at 
home. 
as well In social as in public 
affairs, and by ivhat means it may be sustained. 
— Von Knebel. 
