WOMAN’S TRUE BEAUTY 
after the business of the day is over. Even the 
German, who is an inordinate drinker, celiber- 
ately quads bis beer and light wines with a party 
of friends around the festive board. But the 
American has no time to tarrj\ He takes a 
“stand-up” drink, pouring the fiery poison 
down bis throat with feverish haste, then “ cuts 
and comes again,” as often as the exigencies of 
his business cares will permit. Incidental to 
this American system of “bar "drinking, is a 
most pernicious custom of “ treating.” Practi¬ 
cally, it consists in drinking not to quench 
tbirst, but to manifest one’s generosity. Thus, 
a friend asks ns what we will “take," and we 
drink with him; the next time we meet, him, 
we invite him to “imbibe," and he drinks with 
ns; so that in tho long run the practice amounts 
to just this —that be pays for our drinks and we 
pay for his. Now as it is considered shabby to 
drink alone, and as every mau is on the look-out 
for some one to indulge with him in “ a friendly 
glass," it so happens that if you meet many 
acquaintance during the day, somebody is 
pretty sure to go to bed that night intoxicated. 
This custom of “treating” is held in such 
esteem that many men, rather than forego the 
pleasure of inviting others to drink with them, 
will keep their families suffering in deprivation of 
the necessaries of life; and young men who are 
kept on a “short allowance" of pocket money 
at home or are living away from home on limited 
salaries, will filch from their parents or employ¬ 
ers rather than deny themselves this delightful 
privilege. And to reward this personal sacrifice 
for the benefit of others, what villainons com¬ 
pounds arc dealt out over that “bar.” The 
presiding demon —In other words, the “bar¬ 
tender” — must bo a chemist of no mean pre¬ 
tensions ; for, given certain crude and digusting 
poisons, it is his duty to make palatable bev¬ 
erages of them. We have heard it asserted, and 
we believe the statement, that there are six 
hundred distinctive American “ drinks;*« and 
“ I was glad to have it in my power to do any¬ 
thing my husband wanted me to do,” was the 
beautiful reply of a wife, long married, of wealth 
and position, when I asked her why, by over¬ 
taxing herself, she had induced great bodily 
suffering. 
A man was terribly injured; a muslin band¬ 
age was essential to his safety; it was not at 
hand, and there was no time to ruu for it. A 
young woman present disappeared, and returned 
the next minute with the requisite article taken 
from her under garment, and the poor soldier’s 
life was saved. 
“My dear wife, I am hopelessly haukrupt,” 
said a merchant when he entered his fine man¬ 
sion, at the close of a day, all fruitless in his 
endeavors to save himself when men were crash¬ 
ing around him in every direction. “Tell me 
the particulars, dearest,” said his wife calmly. 
On hearing them and his wants t.o save himself, 
“ Is that all?” and absenting herself a moment, 
she returned witli a book, from between the 
leaves of which she took out bank-note after 
bank-note, until enough was counted to fully 
meet all her husband's requirements. “ This,” 
said she, in reply to his mingled look of admira¬ 
tion and astonishment, “is what I have saved 
foreueli a possible day as this, from yourprinccly 
allowance for dressing myself, since we were 
married.” 
If every mother made it her ambition to 
mould her daughter’s heart in forms like these, 
who shall deny that many a suicide would be 
prevented; that many a noble-hearted man 
would be saved from a life of abandonment or 
a drunkard's dreadful death, and many families 
prevented being thrown upon society in desti¬ 
tution and helplessness, to furnish inmatCB for 
the jail, poor-house, the asylum and the hos¬ 
pital? 
THE APPLE TREE IN THE LANE 
It stood close by where on leathern hinge 
The pate swung back from the grassy lane ; 
Where the cows camo tome when the dusky eve 
Its mantle threw o’er hill and plain. 
Its branches knotty and gnarled by time, 
Waved to and fro in the idle breeze, 
When the spring days wove a blnshing crown 
Of blossoms bright for the apple trees. 
Its shadow fell o’er the crystal stream 
That all the long, bright summer days, 
Like a silver thread, 'mid the waving grass, 
Reflected back the go den rays 
Of the noonday sun, tbit madly strove 
To drink the fount of the brooklet dry; 
But the light clouds shovered tear-drops down 
Till the glad brook laighed as it glided by. 
Never were the apples VIf so sweet, 
Golden russet striped with red, 
As those that fell on tho yielding turf 
When she shook the tranches overhead. 
A trysting-place for youthful friends 
Was the apple-tree in lhe days or yore, 
And oft we've eat beneati Its shade 
And bilked bright dr can 3 of the future o’er. 
And when the warm OctVber sun 
Shone on the maple's starlet robe, 
We gathered apples sound and fair, 
And round aB our own mystic globe. 
The stately hemlock crowns the hill. 
The dark pines rise above the plain— 
But the one we prize far more than they 
Is the apple-tree in the pasture lane. 
Long years have passed, and cows no more 
Come home at night through the grassy lane; 
Where the gate swung back on leathern hinge, 
I stand and gaze on the far-off plain. 
No more wc list to the mi sic low 
Of the crystal stream as it ripples on, 
And the apple tree in the pasture lane 
Is but a dream of tho days by-gonc. 
BT PHOBBE CART. 
“ What is this that he saitb, A little while?” 
John xvi. 1*. 
On ! for the peace which floweth as a river, 
Making life's desert places bloom and smile; 
Oh ! for the faith to.grasp Hoaven'B bright “ forever,’ 
Amid the shadows of Earth's “little while.” 
A little while for patient vigil keeping 
To lace the Etorm, to wrestle with the strong; 
A little while to sow the seed with weeping, 
Then bind the sheaves and sing the harvest song. 
A little whllo to wear the garb of sadness, 
To toil with weary steps through erring ways; 
Then to ponf forth the fragrant oil of gladness 
And clasp the girdle of the robe of praise. 
A little while 'mid shadows and illusions, 
To strive, by faith, Lovo’e mysteries to Bpell, 
Then read each dark enigma’s clear solution, 
Then hear Light’s verdict, “lie doth all things well.” 
A little while the earthen pitcher taking 
To wayside brooks, from Tar-off mountains fed; 
Then the parched lip Its thirst forever slaking 
Beside the fullness of the Fountain-head. 
A little while to keep the oil from falling; 
A Uttlo while Faith's flickering lamp to trim ; 
And then the Bridegroom’s coming footsteps hailing, 
To haste to meet t.tiem with the bridal hymn. 
And He who 1 b at once both Gift and Giver; 
The future glory, and the present smile. 
With the bright, promise of the glad “forever,” 
Shall light the shadows or this “little while.” 
[-V. 1 ". Spectator. 
Her skies of whom I sing, are hung 
With sad clouds, dropping saddest tears; 
Yet Eome white days, like pearls, are strung 
Upon the dark thread of her years. 
And as remembrance turns to slip 
Through lingers fond her treasures rare, 
Ever her thankful heart nud lip 
Run over into song anil prayer. 
With joys more exquisite and deep 
Than her's she knows this good world teems, 
Yet only asks that she may keep 
The harmless luxury of dreams. 
Thankful that, though her life has lost 
The best it hoped, the best it willed, 
Her sweetest dream has not been crossed, 
Or worse—but only half fulfllled. 
And that beside her still, to wile 
Her thought from sad and sober truth, 
Are hope and fanoy, all the while 
Feeding her heart’s eternal youth. 
And who shall say that they who close 
Their eyes to hope and fancy’s beams, 
Are living truer lives than those. 
The dreamers, who beiieve their dreams! 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
EXPERIENCES WHICH ARE SELDOM CON- 
FESSED. 
BY EUGENIA STANLEY 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker 
SUFFERING A BENEFACTION. 
BY COKA ('ORAL, 
Suffering is one of the most effective means 
devised by a beneficent Creator for the elevation 
of a fallen world. Man, by nature, is selfish and 
unsympathlzlng, and it is not until the dew-drops 
of sorrow solten his heart that ho rises to the 
true nobility of his nature, and to perfect fel¬ 
lowship with his kind. Oden, too, persons fall 
asleep, as it were, and nothing but a Bharp pang 
will arouse them. 
“ We arc surrounded by the living dead, 
Mon whose whole lives seem pnrpoeelesB and vain; 
They«re bubbles in tho air, husks ’mid the grain: ' 
•%! - . M « rm 1 . > . . - 
FAMOUS LADY. 
Written for Moon's Rural New-Yorker. 
NOMINATE YOTR POISON.” 
l-c hyjjjk Biaujiu me iair cuy 01 Baltimore, an 
old lady originally designated “the madam; ” 
her age prodigious, her form bent double, her 
attire curiously antiquated in its fashion, yet 
still retaining in her faded feature something of 
the Bparkle of by-gone comeliness, yet still in 
her tottering gait, a trace of the elasticity of 
youth. This was once the beautifal Miss Pat- 
I terson, the American, who became the bride 
of the heartless, worthless, and dissolute 
scamp, Jerome Bonaparte, 6ome time King of 
Westphalia; and who, but for the selfish pol¬ 
troonery of her husband, and the ruthiesB am¬ 
bition of her imperial brother-in-law, might have 
been at this day mistress of the Palais Royal. 
Enveloped in a black silk calash, put together 
by some mantua-maker of the year one, and 
leaning on a crutch, the old lady might be seen 
any day in the streets of rbe Monumental City; 
I am glad to see that the “Temperance 
Reform," having been ilmost entirely qui¬ 
escent in our country dtring the absorbing 
excitements of the Rebellion, is once more 
asserting itself, and promises to become one of 
the leading movements of the day. The preva¬ 
lence of intemperance among ns is truly alann- 
i°Si there Is no doubt that the American 
people are already the most reckless tipplers on 
the face of the earth. The vice seems to bc- 
. Mere walking flesh-piles, without heart or head, 
) They rc dead ns those on whose old graves we tread." 
> Suffering itself does not wear out our lives as 
: quickly as such lethargy. Is it not better to be 
• saved, though it be by fire, than to rust away in 
1 an existence that is as a “living death,” in its 
1 barrenness of all that makes life good or beau¬ 
tiful 
Yet after all, many persons regard sorrow and 
misfortune as the thunderbolts of an incensed 
God, or the tyranny of a merciless Judge, rathe*- 
than the paternal chastening of a tender Parent. 
They forgot that “angels hold the crown for 
those who suffer to be strong.” 
It is the experience of a world that “ Knowl¬ 
edge by suffering enteretb;” for grief and pain 
are the only earthly teachers that are familiar 
guests alike in the palace of the prince and the 
tumble-down hovel of the serf. 
Sorrow, while it lasts, often depresses the 
spirits to 6uch a degree that it crushes out 
hope, energy and action; yet once assimilated, it 
fertilizes the mind, develops the character, and 
stirs up the yet unfathomed depths of the great 
and good of by-gone days. ^ How many “ mute, 
inglorious Miltons” sleep in nameless graves, 
lacking this impetus, it Is not ours to know; but 
we do know that although there exists “ a spark 
of nature’s fire ” in the breasts of those who have 
written their names high In the Temple of Fame, 
yet some scathing anguish was generally the 
tinder that kindled into flame the smouldering 
embers, causing their light to shine forth, send¬ 
ing now a cheering beam into some dark recess, 
and again warming into life the frozen current 
of an ice-bound heart. 
We sometimes forget that we arc really en¬ 
joying many blessings for which we have much 
reason to be thankful. Life to us is as tedious 
as “ a twice-told tale.” It is not until a blast of 
lame is saia 10 DC- incomplete, unless among the 
delicate bottles containing perfumes and cos¬ 
metics there are one or two tiny decanters 
filled with something to A pel the Wd ftCl u c , 
me “blues," ft retcra. •society,” too, pat¬ 
ronizes the habit, and those vile and deadly 
chemical compounds which pass under the 
names of whiskey, brandy, Arc,, are freely pro¬ 
vided at dinners, and parties, and weddings, and 
receptions; and to such an extent is this tho 
case, that if a young fellow gets through the 
ceremony of an evening call without being 
invited to “take something” he considers it 
rather “slow!” In fact, “drinking” is quite 
a social accomplishment with ns, as it w 
Scottish society fifty years ago; where, as 
Ramsay tells us, young men were taugi 
home “ to stand ” a fabulous quantity of I 
in order that, at convivial entertainments, 
_► A . * Vi • .. . 
and people would make way for her and doff 
their hats, as though around that decrepit form 
There still hung some perfume of the imperial 
purple to which she had been transltorially 
allied. 
AFRICAN PROVERBS, 
anair, ie.t me tea you, kind reader;—a wee bit of 
a cottage whose kitchen served for dining and 
sitting-room, and the parlor scarcely larger than 
a bed-room, famished with a rag carpet, a seven 
by nine looking-glass, rude wooden chairs, and 
one corner sacred to the occupancy of the “ spare 
bed.” Yes, this was quite a different'life. 
As I walked along, thinking how hard was I 
In a bosk recently Issued in England by Cupt. 
Burton, the African traveler, under the name of 
“ Wit and Wisdom from Western Africa,” there 
are given numerous specimens of African prov- 
Our African Brother” to 
ALGERINE WOMEN. 
eros, that prove 
have as large a fund of native wisdom and humor 
as our own ancestors from more northern climes. 
For Instance: 
“If it is dark all men are black.” “When 
gold comes near you it glistens.” “ Hold a true 
friend with both thy hands.” “ If you can pull 
out, pull out your own gray hairs.” “String 
on string will blind even a leopard.” “ Tbou 
wilt serve seventeen masters." “No sleep, no 
dream.” “A tree which has no fork is hard 
I to climb ” (Divide ct itujicra. ) “ No one gives 
a pig to a hyena to keep.” “ Hunger spoilt, love.” 
“ The evil doer is anxious." “ I almost killed I 
tho bird; but no one can eat ‘almost’ ina6tew.” 
“Whoever wants me as I am, is content"” 
“The face of water is beautiful, but it is 
uot good to sleep on it." “Clear water is 
not wanted for quenching fire.” “ Two croco¬ 
diles do not live in one hole.” “You can¬ 
not shave a man’s head in his absence.” “At 
the bottom of patience there is Heaven.” “If 
a woman speaks two words, take one and leave 
the other.” 
idleness. The soft blue 6ky, the joyous notes of 
the birds, tho rippling of the brook-all the purity 
and gladness of that summer afternoon were un¬ 
heeded by me. I might as well have been deaf 
•and blind, been bereft of all my senses, for all 
the pleasure afforded me by these lovely eights 
and sounds. 
Seated at length beneath a tree, I reviewed 
ray conduct, comparing it with that of my no¬ 
ble, patient husband, and I asked myself why 
I was not like him; why, when he had so many 
discouragements, so many hours of hard, unre¬ 
mitting toff, be was not ill-tempered, as I was; 
how It was that he always greeted me with smiles 
and loving words, in return for my grumbling, 
fretting and ill-humor; why he was never cross, 
never met me with bitter npbraidings, as too 
many men would have done, and which I owned 
now I deserved; why he never was impatient 
with the children, as I was, oh ! so often;—and I 
settled upon, the parties “ ratify ” with another 
drink. Tippling, too, is a friendly ceremony. 
When old acquaintance meet, they find no bet¬ 
ter way to express the pleasure they experience 
at seeing one another than by looking at each 
other through the bottom of a glass; and when 
A Newfort correspondent of the New York they a re on the point of parting they repeat this 
vening Post announces the death on the 15th interesting experiment. Again, wc drink to 
et., of Julia Montandvert, widow of the gal- express our emotions. When a child is born, 
ut Lawrence, who sailed out of Boston harbor or any other happy event takes place, the ac- 
ty-two years ago on the 1st of June, to fight qaalntance of the persons more immediately 
e British frigate Shannon. He died in Halifax interested, celebrate the auspicious occasion 
the fatal wonud received on that occasiou with a “smile;” and when one is overwhelmed 
ur days after the capture of his vessel. The with sorrow, nothing is more common thau to 
telligencc was concealed Irom his wile, who see him attempt to drown his troubles in splrit- 
is in feeble health, until September. She had bous liquors. Aside from these popular uses of b&bit—and then tho thing Is 
ed in a pleasant cottage lu Newport for many alcoholic beverages, great quantities of liquor tured mttn bas few enemies, f: 
irs. -lust before her death she requested an at- are consumed for its supposed sanitary and t0 bavo enemies is not only d 
idaut to read aloud a little memoir of her hus- medicinal qualities. It is regularly prescribed uncomfortable. Good uatu 
ud; as If feeling the powors of her mind tailing by physicians for almost every disease and corn- tlje best, of things among m 
ideaired to renew in memory every incident of plaint that “flesh is heir to.” It is taken in the me n of the world, and tho 
brief but britllant career. Too feeble to listen morning as a tonic; before meals to sharpen the ^avc “dvocated. To culth 
the whole, she requested that the leaf should appetite; after eating to assist digestion; and ia to cultivate Christianity, 
turned down and the remainder read next just before retiringftaa “night-cap.” In short we are not to heed this thing 
INTERESTING REMINISCENCES, 
1 —- — ,— ami a 
thought of poor Nellie ; how her lip had quiv¬ 
ered, and the great brown eyes filled with tears 
that very morning when I shook her! Ah I what 
was the difference! I studied long on this ques¬ 
tion, and the auswer was made clear as noonday to 
ray heart. It was this“ Your husband Iovcb 
God, and, loving Him, strives to honor Him, 
serve Him and glorify Him, by a life of patient 
self-denial, by meekness, by good works, and 
above all by being contented with the station 
in life in which God has placed him. 
I walked home, determined to go and do 
likewise. 
tho soul’s best wealth is hidden.” Lord Bacon 
says:—“Prosperity is the blessing of the Old Tes¬ 
tament, Adversity is the blessing of the New, 
which carrieth the greater benediction and the 
Clearer revelation of God’s favor.” 
Is It uot wise, then, to meet with u brave heart 
the sorrows that cross our pathway, remember¬ 
ing that “ Trouble springs not from tho ground, 
nor pain from chance; ” and that although onr 
cross bo heavy now, ours shall be the crowu in 
that day, when 
“ Why our darkened hours are given, 
Why our sorrows, wc shall know.” 
A gamble of the fall style of bonnets which 
has arrived in New York from Paris is described 
as an awkward, unattractive, coal-scuttle shaped 
affair, possessing no commendable feature what¬ 
ever. 
A somewhat juvenile dandy said to a fair 
partner at a ball, “Don’t you think my mous¬ 
taches are becoming, MIsb?” To which she 
replied, “Well, sir, they may be. corning , but 
they have not yet arrived.” 
When a man marries a widow he is bound to 
give up smoking and chewing. If 6 he gives up 
her weedB for him, he should, of course, give up 
the weed for her. 
Edith Wheatley, daughter of Nathaniel 
Wheatley, of Brookfield, Vt., is what we call a 
“smart” girl, though but fifteen years of age. 
She has this season raked 100 tuns of hay, and 
while guiding the rake she quietly pursued her 
knitting. 
