Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
A RESPONSE, — TO CLIO STANLEY. 
BT ENOLA. 
Oub dreams are the visions that Fancy weaves 
With busiest skill in otxr idle hours, 
From the odds and the ends that Reason leaves, 
When she colors and forms her perfect flow’rs. 
A whisper gave Fancy the plan, 1 know. 
Fora bountiful picture, rare, and tine. 
Which hangs brightly bathed in the summer’s glow,— 
My words were the whisper; the picture is thine ; 
There’e a princely hall in the palace of Thought, 
Where wonderful treasures lay all unknown; 
There were gems and pearls, and forms that were 
wrought 
With infinite skill from the roughest stone: 
And a plain little key unlocked the door, 
That led where the Bunlight. of morning shone 
O’er the wonders heaped on the golden floor,— 
My words were the key: the treasures thine own. 
There's a graceful harp with so delicate strings, 
That the gentlest zephyr wakeB sweetest notes, 
And the wandering wind grand music flings 
On the reetleBS air, where It swings and floats. 
In reetful pauses of work or of pain, 
To thine ear may sweetest melodies roll; 
Bat think as you list to the soft refrain,— 
My words are the wind, the harp is thy soul. 
Written ior Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
A LETTER TO GIRLS, 
My Youno Friends:—You must be aware 
that there is a growing tendency on the part of 
the young people of the present day, to despise 
the counsels of their elders. 11 Young America’ ’ 
is so wise in its own conceit, 60 self-sufficient 
and confident, that instead of paying deference 
to the views and experience of Age, it holds 
them in utter contempt, and has no term so 
apt to express that feeling, as " old-fogyish!” 
Aa an evidence of this almost universal fact, 
young ladies when they reach a certain age 
think that Mother’s advice is of no account! 
How often 1 have shuddered, when I have heard 
girls say:—“Mother said I should not do so and 
so, hut I was bound I would, and I did,’’ Ah I 
if girls only knew how ofeen that mother’s quiet 
influence had turned aside their feet from tread¬ 
ing in the paths of danger and temptation; if 
they could only appreciate the sleepless anxiety 
of that affection which uncomplainingly en¬ 
dures for their sake so many labors and trials; 
if they could only witness the secret tears which 
are shed over their follies, and the triumphant 
joy which greets their success and well-doing, 
perhaps they would examine a little closer into 
her claims upon their respect, their reverence, 
and their undying love and solicitude. 
If, girls, such a remark as the one quoted 
above ever rises to your lips, or 6ueh a feeling 
ever creeps into your heart, beware, for immi¬ 
nent dangers threaten yon. Bcoaueo wo seem 
to be better educated than our elders, should we 
plume ourselves upon our special advantages, 
and take no account of theirs ? Undoubtedly 
you possess accomplishments which, in your 
mother’s day, were Dot easily obtained; per¬ 
haps in scholastic education you may be far 
superior to her. Well, place your attainments 
in one scale, and then put in the other your 
mother’s experience, “the years that bring the 
philosophic mind,” and above all, that great, 
ineffable love for you which makes her so 
watchful of your best interests—and which scale 
will “kick the beam?” You see things as you 
wish them to be, she sees them as they are. 
You know books, she knows the world. You 
'bring t o the solution of your difficulties the best 
of intentions, let us hope, hut only a limited ex¬ 
perience; she steps in with a judgment matured 
by long years of trial and suffering, with experi¬ 
mental knowledge of human nature, and with 
her quick insight sharpened by maternal anxiety 
—and foi'&ooth, you prefer your own opinions! 
I imagine I see some young lady curl her ruby 
lip in disdain, and perhaps say with scornful ac¬ 
cent “ Written by some old fogy!” Another 
throws the paper impatiently aside, to seek more 
congenial reading matter. But wait a moment, 
while I assure you that I am not an old fogy, 
but one who is still youug enough to need 
Mother’s advice. 
Three years ago, while attending school, 1 be¬ 
came well acquainted with a young lady whom 
<we will call Mattie Miller. She was au excel¬ 
lent scholar and a well appearing girl; but alas! 
she believed she knew more than her mother. 
A short time after 6he left school, I was sur¬ 
prised by the intelligence that Mattie was 
married, and against her mother’s wish. I am 
not much iu the habit of speculating upon such 
matters, but still I felt that Mattie would live 
to be sorry for that step. Before many months 
had passed we heard rumors that Mattie did 
not live happily; soon after, that her husband 
was very unkind to her; and before a year had 
passed she dragged herself back to her mother’s 
home as her only place of refuge,—for she was 
worse than a widow. Oh! how often she 6ighed 
in the bitterness of her affliction, “If I had but 
followed my mother's advice!” Yes, in her 
■deep sorrow, she learned to realize l'ully that 
“ Mother knows best.” 
I presume you might each one of you take a 
page from your own history, to prove the truth 
of these words. No doubt each one of you has 
very frequently had to admit that “ Mother 
knows best.” 
I have oftcu heard girls say, “ If I loved a 
man well enough, 1 would marry him, if my 
parents did forbid.” They have said tins too 
when they must have known that their parents 
would not, for the world, do anything which 
was not for their host good. 
Moreover, many girls have secrets which they 
keep from their parents and confide only to 
some chosen confidante of their own. I have 
heard that a secret kept from a mother is a dau- 
gerons secret, and I believe the statement is 
true. When chosing a confidante, (for all girls 
must have one,) yon can find no one more compe¬ 
tent to advise, no one who will listen to you more 
kindly than your mother; and if you have a 
secret which you are ashamed to tell your 
mother, you may be sure that it is a secret 
which yon should be ashamed to know. 
Again, in your association with young gentle¬ 
men, do not say that your mother is “old 
fogyish,” if she sees something in the conduct 
of one of your acquaintance which she does not 
approve, but rather follow her advice, and avoid 
him if need be ; for she reads character better 
than you can, and she kuows best. 
Now, girls, do not think I am giving you a lec¬ 
ture, but accept the advice contained in this 
letter as kindly as it is given. 
I am your friend, Maude May. 
THE NEW STYLE OF BONNETS. 
The wiutcr fashion of bonnets is causing some 
remark in the papers and ont — even among the 
ladies themselves, some of whom protest that 
they will not follow the fashion. They will 
however come to it sooner or later. Fashion is 
a tyrant and will be obeyed. 
One exchange says the principal of a wholesale 
millinery house states that his customers never 
purchased bonnet-frames with equal reluctance. 
The buggy-top pattern requires a large amount 
of materia], and makes a very 6mall show for it. 
Moreover the show when It is made, is anything 
but graceful. To construct a bonnet over a gig- 
top frame requires three-fourths ol a yard of 
material, with ribbons, lace and flowers ad in¬ 
finitum. The. 6mall bonnets of last summer, that 
made quite as much display, and were ten-fold 
more graceful, required less than half a yard of 
material. The consequence is that the fashion 
dictated to the ladies is not accepted as fashions 
generally are, and that a good many dames and 
demoiselles are in open rebellion, and refuse to 
accept the dispensation of the Empress Eugenie 
for the winter of our Lord 1805. This very un¬ 
acceptable mode makes the millinery business 
comparatively dull; and many a discarded bon¬ 
net will he revamped this winter, that, were the 
fashion more acceptable, would find its way into 
the rag-bag. 
Another editor takes quite a different view of 
the bonnets. He says we like the winter style 
of bonnet. If they are not of the “ come and kiss 
me” order, then we are no judge. We do not. 
know what to call them, or what to liken them 
to, hut “ bates" they are, and no mistake. A 
certain class of countenance shows off to amaz¬ 
ing advantage in them—like a sage cheese in a 
flower patch, or a new moon set iu marigolds. 
They do bring out the,face hugely, and you take 
one of these large, shoemaker’s apron faces, and 
they do bloom immensely. The 6tyle differs 
very much from the old “ coal scuttle,” but 
between the two it is hard to choose. But they 
| arc the fashion, and what’s fashion is right of 
course. —Exchange. 
How to Loop up Dresses. —The looping up 
is managed thus: — Six stripes of broad, black 
braid is sewn at equal distances and in straight 
lines, down the skirt; each is sewn down to 
within fourteen inches of the edge of the shirt; 
a hook is attached to the end of the braid, aud 
an eye is added inside the skirt, eighteen inches 
from the bottom of it. When it is desired to 
shorten the dress, the braid is looped over aud 
fastened to the eye inside; but when the skirt 
is to hang down, the braid can be fastened to a 
small loop which is sewn outside the skirt, and 
at the extreme edge of it; the braid will then 
form straight lines all around it. Buttons and 
loops may be used, If preferred, iustead of hooks 
and eyes. The braid 6bould be two inches wide. 
— Arthur's llowe Magazine. 
- " — 
Man and Wife.— The theory of man and wife, 
that special theory in accordance with which the 
wife is to bend herself iu loving submission be¬ 
fore her husband, is very beautiful; aud it would 
be good altogether if it could be arranged that 
the husband should be the stronger and greater 
of the two. The theory is based upon the hy¬ 
pothesis ; and the hypothesis sometimes fails of 
confirmation. In ordinary marriages the vessel 
rights itself, and the stronger and the greater 
takes the lead, whether clothed in petticoats, or 
in coat, waistcoat, and trousers; but there some¬ 
times comes a terrible shipwreck, when the wo¬ 
man before marriage has filled herself full with 
ideas of submission, and then finds that her 
golden-headed god has got an iron body and feet 
of clay. —Fortnightly Review. 
Mrs. Moore, the widow of the late Thomas 
Moore, the poet, died at Sloperton eottage on 
Monday, September 4tb, at the age of sixty- 
eight. years. “ Bessy” Moore docs not appear to 
occupy a great place in her husband’s poetry, 
but rarely was a great poet more attached to his 
wife. Through all his letters and journals he is 
never tired of referring to her— quoting what she 
said, tolling what she did, describing how she 
looked, and recording how she was admired. He 
married her in 1811, aud her history is summed 
up in one phrase —that 6he was the delight 
of his life, Mrs. Moore was the last that re¬ 
gained of the present generation of the Moore 
family. 
» — 
“ Do let me have your carte de visitc,” said a 
dashing belle to a gentleman who had been an¬ 
noying her with his attentions. Of course the 
gentleman was delighted, thinking he had made 
an impression on the lady’s heart, and In a short 
time the picture was sent. She gave it to the 
servant, with the question, “Would you know 
the original If he should call?” The servant 
replied in the affirmative. “ Well, when he : 
comes, tell him I am engaged.” 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
LITTLE FEET. 
BY NETTIE. 
Little feet, so glad and gay, 
Making music all the day; 
Tripping merrily along, 
Filling all my heart with song; 
Well I love your music sweet; 
Patter, patter, little feet. 
Sometimes anxious, I would know 
Jnet what way these feet mast go; 
Praying oft that all be fair, 
No thorns, no roughness anywhere; 
That flow’ra mayspring their steps to greet; 
Patter, patter, little feet. 
Bat then I think that some have trod 
Through thorns and briers the nearer God ; 
Though weak in fcuili, still I would dare 
To offer up the earnest prayer 
That Christ wonld choose whate'er is meet; 
Patter, patter, little feet. 
I press them iu niv hands to-night, 
And kiss them wl.h a new delight, 
Believing that where’er they go, 
My tender Loan will lead them so. 
They’ll walk, at length, the golden street; 
Patter, patter, little leet. 
Rochester, Nov. 12,1865. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker 
THOUGHTS ON SOCIAL AESTHETICS. 
BT W. H. C. 
“ Blackfriaks’ Bridge,” which has recently 
been completed in London, is a structure remark¬ 
able for its size, but entirely devoid of ornament. 
Rusk IN, the art critic, in commenting upon the 
work, says that If it had been designed by a 
Greek, an Egyptian, or a Gothic architect, “ he 
would have looked upon the main conditions of 
its structure and dwelt on them In the light of 
imagination ; be would have put some lile into 
the iron tenons which secure the work, and that 
thousands of grotesque or lovely thoughts would 
have arisen before him, for his choice, which 
might be gracefully adapted to the purpose.” 
The only object of the actual builders, however, 
was stability; and they were so bent upon this 
aim, that no suspicion ever arose in their minds 
that it was possible to add a little ornament with¬ 
out injury to the main design. 
Society, as at present constituted, is very 
much like the “ Blackfriars ’ Bridge.” It throws 
its wide arches across the gulf which separates 
man from man, spanning individual alms and 
prejudices with a broad highway of mutual 
duties and common Interests; and no effort is 
spared to lay its foundations deep and sure, 
and to make the superstructure solid and per¬ 
manent. Men hurry by, pass and repas6 each 
other on their way tii places ot business and 
pleasure, with a feeffJg ol'perfect confidence; 
but no symmetry of 'proportion or beauty of 
detail arrests their steps and tempts them to 
linger. From buttress to turret it is only a solid 
and substantial structure. 
We need, in order to derive that benefit 
and satisfaction from life which our Creator 
evidently designed it to furnish, to cultivate a 
taste for the beautiful iu Nature and Art, and 
to employ that taste to adorn and diguify otir 
domestic and social intercourse. It is difficult 
to tell, however, where this effort should begin 
and where it should leave off. J list what relation 
culture bears to what wc call education, is not 
well decided; nor is it any better determined to 
what extent, in a society like our own, special 
preparation should be made to lit a man merely 
to discharge well his social duties. Iu our coun¬ 
try, where every man however situated expects 
to do some hard work in life, and where utter 
idleness, however disguised by the epithets of 
“elegant leisure” or “cultivated retirement,” 
is decried as ignoble and contemptible, there is 
great danger that our education, leaning too 
much toward the practical, will be Btern and 
forbidding; that accomplishments, as such, will 
grow into disrepute; that those faculties of the 
human bouI which awaken at the perception of 
beauty, which develop taste, a sense of propri¬ 
ety and a knowledge ot the fitness of things, 
will be too much disregarded. It ought not to 
be so. We boast of our progress, our enlight¬ 
enment, our skill in the mechanic arts, the per¬ 
fection of our political system, and wonder why 
all the world does not folio it our example; while, 
in fact, to one who has been bred in refinement 
abroad, there is very little in t he phases of our 
civilization which Is atall attractive. I,urge cities 
are entirely destitute of works of art, and so¬ 
ciety, wanting that srstbetical cultivation which 
alone can make social intercourse elevating in its 
tendencies, expends its taste and energy upon 
fashion in drees and similar frivolities. So 
little are the laws of taste understood, that 
we cannot even trust ourselves to choose the 
furniture of our dwellings. We dq>end upon 
thccabinent-makcr and the upholsterer in such un 
emergency; and they, together with the tailor, 
the milliner and the barber, are the only artists 
we have among us. 
The Greeks, who carried the social science to 
perfection, employed all the reeonrc.es of Art to 
cultivate refinment of taste, and to grace and 
dignify social intercourse. The people of Athens 
constituted one vast society, which met for the 
Interchange of friendly sentiments, out of doors, 
In the temples and publle places, surrounded by 
all that Art could achieve to make life ploasant 
and delightful. The State reserved the right to 
purchase all the works of art, and placed them 
Iu the temples, halls, market-places, gymnasia 
aud theatres, that they might he studied and 
enjoyed by the populace. They were not al¬ 
lowed to be purchased by private individuals; and 
so rigidly was this Iuw maintained, thatHEEREN, 
iu his Researches on Ancient Greece 6ays, “ I 
know of no one instance of a statue that be¬ 
longed to a private man.” Now, of course, 
Greek life was not the highest, life, and our own, 
naked ss it is in respect of mere grace and beauty, 
is yet incomparably superior to it in a thousand 
morciniportant matters. Butsuch influences are 
not to be despised. Onr homes would not be the 
less homos because they were suitably adorned, 
nor wonld a man be the less a Christian because 
he had the tact, and address of agentleman. Nor 
would either fact be unbecoming to Republican 
simplicity. Thomas Jefferson, the red-hot 
democrat, the man of home-spun clothes and 
unassuming manners, eonld atone timeframe 
the Declaration of American Independence, and 
at another etndy a new order of architecture. 
We should remember that there is a natural 
affinity between the beautifnl and the good, and 
that, in the economy of Gen, there are in Nature 
many objects calculated merely to please the 
senses. We who read 60 clearly the lesson of 
waving crops of grain, should not overlook the 
teachings of the lilies of the field. Culture is 
many-sided, and develops equally. It does not 
propose to make us like the dancing-master, 
strong in the muscles of the legs and weak in 
the arms,—but to bring out all our faculties in 
their proper relations, and to make the most 
of them. It knocks off the sharp angles of individ¬ 
uality, that we may fit into the grooves of society 
without unnecessary friction. Ittouesdown onr 
hobbies, that we maybe actednpon ns well as act 
It gives us weapons with which, in the cause of 
truth, to disarm suspicion and opposition. In a 
single word, and in the old Roman phraseology, 
it makes a man “ teres atque rotundas." 
■ - - » « - A 
THE INFLUENCE OF NEWSPAPERS. 
Occasionally an individual says to us, “times 
are so hard with me, I mnst 6top my paper," or, 
as in some instances, “my wife thinks we can 
dispense with the paper now, and I must, stop.” 
Thus it is, they stop the paper the first thing aa a 
useless expense, without thinking of the actual 
waste of money for things drank, eat, smoked 
or chewed, which can do the system no good, 
but rather harm. 
The newspaper can or should be regarded as 
a benefit to every household ; it imparts useful 
information; it furnishes subjects for thought 
and conversation; it adds a charm to social 
intercourse; it makes agreeable members of 
society. To be without a newspaper one might 
as well be ont of the world; he becomes a per¬ 
fect nobody; when he goes into society and 
hears others talk about current events and dis¬ 
cuss questions of local or general interest, he 
can take no part In the6o things because he is 
not posted up, not having read the papers. 
And in the family circle what an influence the 
newspaper has — the children read it, and gain 
in knowledge; It serves to occupy their leisure 
hours, to keep them from frivolous amusements, 
and gives an attraction to home. Surely, then, 
no wise parent would consent to go without a 
newspaper in his family—and a local home news¬ 
paper, too. He may think he can get along 
without it, because he is out iu the world, and 
can have the reading of the paper from his neigh¬ 
bor’s shop or store, or can learn what is going 
on from others. Bnt this is rather a mean way. 
Men ought to be independent. They ought to 
read for themselves. If, however, they think 
they do not need the paper themselves, they 
may rest assured that their family does. Con¬ 
siderations like these should have weight, and 
should induce those who have had thoughts of 
stopping their newspapers not to do so, and for 
those who have not taken a paper, to subscribe 
at once.— Exchange. 
— ■ - » »4 — — — - - - ■■■ 
SUPERIORITY OF THE EDUCATED. 
The hand is found to he another hand when 
guided by an intelligent mind. Individuals 
who, without the aid of knowledge, would have 
been condemned to perpetual inferiority of con¬ 
dition, and subjected to all the evils of want 
and poverty, rise to competence and Independ¬ 
ence by the uplifting power of education. In 
great establishments, and among large bodies 
of laboring men, where all services are rated 
according to their pecuniary value—where there 
arc no extrinsic circumstances to bind a man 
down to a fixed position, after he has shown a 
capacity to rise above it—where, indeed, men 
pass by each other, ascending or descending in 
their grades of labor just as easily and as cer¬ 
tainly as particles of water ol different degrees 
of temperature glide by each other—under 6uch 
circumstances it is found, us an almost invariable 
fact, other things being equal, that those who 
have been blessed with a good common school 
education rise to a higher and a higher point in 
the kinds of labor performed, and also In the 
rate of wages received, while the ignorant sink 
like dregs, and are always found at the bot¬ 
tom.— Prof. Mayhcw. 
-■■ ’ - - - 
A Beautiful Illustration.— If one should 
give me a dish of sand and tell me there were 
particles of iron in it, I might look for them with 
my eyes, aud search for them with my clumsy 
lingers, and bo unable to detect them; but let 
me taken maguot and sweep through it, atul how 
would It draw to itself the most invisible parti¬ 
cles, by the mere power of attraction. The un¬ 
thankful heart, like my finger in the sand, dis¬ 
covers no mercies; but let the thankful heart 
sweep through the day, and, as the magnet finds 
the Iron, bq It will find, in every hour, some 
heavenly blessings; only the iron iu God’s sand 
is gold.— 0. W. Holmes. 
— --• • — - - 
A troublesome thing—Tce-thing. A frightful 
phantom—Cholci'ft-infantum. An unwholesome 
cake—Stomach-ache. Au unnatural ma—Ma¬ 
rasmus. An unnatural pa — Pa-regoric. The 
besetting sin—Medi-cine. The best system of 
medicine—Home-opathy. 
“BLESSED TO GIVE.” 
The kingly snn gives forth his rays; 
AskB no return, demands no praise ; 
Bat wraps ns In strong arms of life, 
And says distinct, through human strife, 
“ If thon wouldst. truly, nobly live, 
Give—ever give.” 
The rustic flower, tipspringing bright, 
And answering back their regal ltght, 
Fills nil the air with fragrant breath, 
And writes in myriad hues beneath, 
“ If thon wonldst gladly, gladly live, 
Give—ever give." 
The merchant rain, which carries on 
Rich commerce 'twixt the earth and snn; 
The Autumn mist, the Springtide shower; 
All whisper soft to seed and flower, 
“ We know no other life to live. 
Bat this—we give." 
Suggestive warnings crowd tho earth; 
Glad sonnds of labor, songB of mirth,— 
From creatures both of earth and air; 
Who, whilst they take their rightful share, 
Still truly chant, “ We chiefly live 
To give—to give." 
O man, the gem and crown of all, 
Take thon this lesson. Heed the call 
Of these less gifted creatures near; 
The rather, that Christ's voice most dear 
Once said, whilst here ho deigned to live, 
"Blessed to give." 
- ... 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
THE BREVITY OF HUMAN LIFE. 
"Thou hast made my days, as It were, bnt ft span 
long.” 
There is perhaps no fact of human existence, 
that is grasped with so much difficulty, and is so 
lightly appreciated aud but partially realized, as 
that of the exceeding brevity of our sojourn 
here on earth. Not a day nay, not an hour passes, 
but we are reminded of this truth by the final 
exit of 60 me soul from this sphere of human 
activity. 
“The air is fall of farewolls to the dying, 
And mournings for the dead;' 
and there are few of ns indeed to whom at 
some time it has not whispered in solemn 
tones that came near to our hearts, and bowed 
onr beads in grief. Beside the open grave of a 
dear friend we have for a brief space of time, at 
least, realized the uncertainty of life and its short 
duration. 
The longest life is but a span. Onr ship has 
but a little time at best to ride life’s troubled 
tide, beaten and drifted about among the shoals 
and breakers of sin and temptation by tempests 
of sorrow, adversity and disappointment. A 
little while and all is over. A little while, and 
then, if Faith has held tho helm and guided us 
safely through tho encompassing dangers, if we 
have had over in view that Beacon Light that 
is never dim to those who seek it, we may anchor 
in that Harbor of Promise, our voyage ended, 
our warfare over. 
This life is but a preface to the great book of 
our existence, is but “a 6uberli to the life 
Elysian, whose portal we call Death.” Is it not 
worth while thon, in the brief time wc tarry 
here, so to live that we may joyously enter upon 
the glories of the groat Hereafter ? Let each 
reminder that is sent to us of the shortness of life, 
teach us the importance of preparing ourselves 
for the coming of that time, when we too must 
“6hullle off’this mortal coil,” and go unto that 
“ bourne from whence no traveler returns.” 
“ So live that, sinking in thy last long sleep, 
Calm rnay’et thon die, when all around thee weep." 
Let us so perform our allotted tasks, that 
when the Bridegroom cometb, and we kneel 
before the Eternal Throne, the record of our 
lives may receive tho response, “Well done, 
thou good and faithful servant.” 
- . 
GRAVE THOUGHTS FOR SUNDAY. 
Run not after blessings; only walk in the com¬ 
mandments of God, and blessings shall run after 
you, pursue and overtake you. 
I do not wish for any heaven on earth beside 
that of preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ to 
Immortal souls.— llmry Martyu. 
We should give as we receive, cheerfully' 
quickly, and without hesitation; for there is no 
grace In a benefit that sticks to the lingers. 
Saints are not so much afraid of suffering as 
they are of sinning; in suffering the offense is 
done to us, but in sinning the offense jb done to 
God. 
I am no more surprised that some revealed 
truths should amaze my understanding, than 
that the blazing sun should dazzle my eyes.— 
Hcrvey. 
How long may it take a mail to embrace 
Christ as his Saviour? As long as it takes a 
drowning man to let go a straw and lay hold of 
an offered rope. 
Never despise counsels from whatever quar¬ 
ter they reach you. Remember that the pearl 
is keenly sought for iu spite of the coarse shell 
which envelopes it. 
A daily conversation in heaven is the surest 
forerunner of a constant abode there. The 
Spirit of God first brings heaven into the soul, 
and then conducts the soul to heaven. 
The spirit of Christ sweetly calms the soul of 
the suffering believer, not by taking away all 
sense of pain, but by overcoming it by a sense 
of his love. 
“ Are you still iu the laud of the living ? ” in¬ 
quired a mau of au aged friend. “ No, but I am 
going there.” This world is the shadow; hea¬ 
ven is the reality. 
- 
