# 
labor honorable, but you will also preyent the 
commisson of two thirds of the crime which 
shames the civilization of the day. As long as 
idlers are tolerated, and Haunt their gaudy col¬ 
ors in the open light of day, young men will 
regard labor as drudgery, and sigh for the de¬ 
lights of good clothes and plenty of leisure. 
boy’s knee is not a patch,—it is a square form, 
modeled in so nicely with seam, press and needle, 
that, it looks like a me’ e ~h*de, or figure in the 
cloth. Many a pretty scrap of silk, ribbon or 
other material, which in most houses is wasted 
by children or finds a place in the rag-bag, is 
here seen formed into a pretty device upon a 
stool, a chair-cushion, or the binding of a child’s 
wristband. It is surprising how many'pretty 
things a pair ot swift little hands can make and 
save. And how dignified, in view of the princi¬ 
ple involved, such economy becomes! 
The woman who makes herself truly a help¬ 
mate when married, is seldom destitute when 
deprived of husband or father. The time, labor 
and care necessary to secure economy, never be¬ 
come irksome to one early instructed in the art. 
Woman’s extravagance and ostentatious disre¬ 
gard of expenditures bring about in their course 
much waut and nuflcriug, and many are the self- 
made victims of married life whose whole fortune 
glitters upon their backs. 
The prudent man's fortune rests mainly in his 
wife’s hands. He expects to furnish supplies, 
but he usually leaves the ordering of his house¬ 
hold wholly to her judgment. Economy then 
becomes at once a duty and a science. 
Delia Dahlia. 
Written for Movie’s Rural New-Yorker. 
STRIVE TO DO GOOD. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker 
TO MIRA. 
ET .JEAN INGELOW. 
BY 8. C. GARRETT 
Behinp yon stand the forceful Fates ; 
Within your heart a simple love; 
Around, the world stands with its hates, 
While Gon, serene, looks from above. 
The “tones for which you sadly yearn,’' 
To you, no doubt, incline their wing; 
And, for your purer eare. might learn 
Of nobler thoughts and hopes to sing. 
That “god" to whom your eoul appeals, 
Lives in the bouses of your street; 
The feebler natnre only feels 
The scandal-monger she may meet. 
The “peace” for which you vainly sigh, 
Comes not at tearlUl vows on earth; 
Life was not giv'n to merely die. 
Else trifling were the boon of birth. 
Ah me, the huckster thought that dwells 
In bart’ring love to save a name! 
Suck sacrificing only swells 
The feebler list of woman’s shame. 
The Christ to whom you look for aid, 
Invited hate and death lor love; 
Not for his “ friends ” he wept and prayed, 
And asked assistance from above. 
Wyoming, N. Y. 3 
Grand Is the leisure of the oarth; 
She gives her happy myriads birth, 
And after harvest Tears no dearth, 
But goes to sleep in snow-wreaths dim. 
Dread is the leisure up above, 
The while he sits, whose name is Love, 
And waits, as Noah did, the dove, 
To wit if she would fly to him. 
He waits for n>>, while, houseless things, 
We beat about with bruised wings, 
On the dark woods and water springs, 
The ruined world, the desolate sea: 
With open windows from the prime, 
All night, all diy, lie waits sublime, 
Until the fullness of the time. 
Decreed from his eternity. 
Where is mr leisure 1 Give us rest I 
Where is the quiet we possessed ? 
We must have had it once—were blest 
With peace, whose phantoms yet entice, 
Sorely the mother of mankind 
Longed for the gardens left behind; 
For we still prove some yearnings blind, 
Inherited from Paradise. 
“ Blessed are ye that sow beside all waters." 
Isaiah, 32: 20. 
Scatter the precious seed, when morn’s faint blush 
is gleaming 
Above the hill-tops and o’er dewy vales; 
Rest not. in idleness, with sluggards dreaming, 
And vainly waiting more propitious gales. 
Scatter the precious seed a hen high in yon bright 
heaven 
The noonday sun sheds down its fervid beams ; 
For blessings from the Saviour will be given 
To those who tearful sow beside all streams 
Scatter the precious seed when twilight’s shadow 
Creeps softly forth all laden with the dew; 
At morning, noon or eve, thy baud withhold not, 
’Though never may’st thou see the good seed grow. 
Gibers will come when thon in dust art sleeping, 
And gather fruit of seed by thee long sown; 
And many In that clime where is no weeping 
Will bless thy deeds before the Eternal Throne. 
GOOD CHARACTER THE MAIN THING, 
Character is the main thing, and to be the 
best man is better than to have the name of it. 
There are many manufactured reputations. 
We cannot doubt that when we examine the 
list of famous men, when we reflect bow weak and 
poor their manhood is. How many men we 
find who seem to be constantly itching for noto¬ 
riety; who seem to thiuk that the world will 
forget them, unless they make themselves prom¬ 
inent upon every opportunity, and are constantly 
on the. alert to flud a plaed in which they can 
introduce their flux of words, that attention 
may be drawn to themselves. It is not well for 
any young man to look out upon life as only 
the stage on which he is to play his part, and 
catch the applauses of his fellows. It is his 
duty to be true and manly wheiever he may be, 
let applause come or not, as it will. The 
world is not so near-sighted or forgetful as it 
6eems. it has a keen eye and a tenacious mem¬ 
ory for every true thing that it is spoken, and it 
will never let die what is worthy to live. It 
may not do justly at first, but it does uot neglect 
to have justice done at the last. Let no one 
think that his life is unappreciated, or complain 
that he is neglected. No man will ever be neg¬ 
lected who gives his fellow-men anything 
worth taking care of, and the very humblest vir¬ 
tue will be preserved as a blessing. It is well, 
sometimes, that the world may seem to forget, 
and it may be that a man is so just and true as 
to be above the world’s commendation. When 
Cato, the censor, lived, many ignoble men had 
statues erected to their memory. To those who ex¬ 
pressed their wonder to the virtuous old Roman 
that he had none, he said, “ He would much 
rather that it should be asked why he had 
not a statue than why he had one.’’ Yet It 
must be remcmberc-d that a man must be a Cato 
to say that with becoming truthfulness.— Ex. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
BY THEIR FRUITS YE SHALL KNOW 
THEM. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
KEEPING CHILDREN HEALTHY IN 
WINTER. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
“ TOO GOOD TO WORK.” 
Said an anxious mother to a physician: “I 
dread the winter on account of my children. 
I kept them in doors all last winter, and our 
rooms were warm day and night, bnt. in spite of 
our eare, they had several attacks of croup. 
They stood on the steps one day to see a com¬ 
pany of soldiers passing, and all took such 
terrible colds! If I could afford it, I would 
spend every winter in Florida until they are 
grown up. What shall I do, Doctor?” 
“I’ll tell you, madam. Before November 
comes, pull off your children’s clothes, and put 
on flannel under garments. Let drawers reach 
below tbe stockings, and have the whole person 
well covered. Provide thick shoes, hoods, sacks 
and mittens, and let them run out of doors as 
much as they please. Frequent rides will do 
them good. Sleeping in cold rooms does not 
injure those accustomed to it, if the bed is well 
supplied with blankets and quilts. Let tbem 
retire early. Give them plenty of wholesome 
food. Heed this advice, madam, and rest 
assured that your children will he exempt from 
colds the entire winter.” s. c. G. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
DESULTORY TALK ON HOUSEHOLD 
ECONOMY. 
In the article headed “ Look into Thy Heart,” 
some weeks ago, we considered the process of 
discovering our own Christian status, and the 
test by which wc may determine our relation to 
Christ. We propose in this to consider some of 
the signs by which we may recognize those who 
claim to have “passed from death unto life,” 
and for this reason demand our Christian love 
and sympathy. 
It becomes necessary, in our relations to each 
other as human beings, t.bat we should be able, iu 
some way, to test the professions of one who 
claims that he has met with a change of heart; 
this is necessary, not for the determination of 
such a change as it affects the person himself, 
bnt for our own protection against the designs 
of Satan. As a general rule, it would seem, 
that if a person says that he believes on the 
Lord Jesus Christ, we arc bound to believe 
him; but we arc not bound to take him into our 
love and Christian confidence, unless his profes¬ 
sions are supported by other evidence. It is to 
the natnre of that evidence that we propose to 
devote this article. 
We are told in the New Testament that we 
shall knowtbe followers of Christ by their fruits. 
As the kind of its truit determines the character 
of a tree, &o the character of a human being is 
indicated by tbe fruit he bears. What is that 
fruit which indicates the Christian character? 
Is It sin ? la it ungodliness ? Is it willful vio¬ 
lation of Christ’s commands? Is it hatred for 
Christ and His people ? No! It is the natural 
product of Christ in the heart. It is the joy 
of tbe soul redeemed. It is obedience to the 
commands of Christ. It is meekness. It is 
holiness. It i& purity of heart. It. is love for 
prayer. It is love of God. It is love of the 
brethren. It is love of enemies. It is hatred 
for sin. It is the Christian hope. It is the peace 
that passeth understanding. In tine, all the bles¬ 
sings which are bestowed upon a human being 
because of his faith In Christ, constitute the 
fruit of the Christian. No one but a child of 
God can hear such fruit. If a human being has 
passed from death unto life he will certainly 
bear fruit. Some trees, by reason of neglect, 
bear little fruit, and that of an inferior quality. 
Some fruit is blasted in the blossom, and no fruit 
appears till auother season. Some trees are 
always heavily laden like the healthy orange, and 
others yield but at intervals. Some branches 
are pruned to increase the quality and quantity 
of the fruit. 
If any one claims that he Is a tree planted iu 
the garden of our Lord, you may believe that 
Satan planted him there, if he bear no fruit at 
all; but If you discover any fruit you may know 
that Christ planted him. If any of the bles¬ 
sings which are bestowed upon the Christian, 
are withhold for a time from the redeemed soul, 
he may be sure that Christ withholds it but to 
add to it, and the better prepare him for its en¬ 
joyment. God blesses some continually,—such 
are “strong In the Lord.” “Tills kind comes 
onlyby fasting and prayer.” Those who arc vari¬ 
able In their trust in Christ, bear fruit at Inter¬ 
vals. Mo 3 t. In number, among Christians, arc 
those who need the pruning knife. We are 
made perfect, through suffering; and the suffer¬ 
ing through which we are made perfect is the 
suffering of conflict with Satau. God cuts off 
our brunches and with them the fruit they bear. 
He takes away our peace, our joy, and many 
other fruits, by permitting us to be tempted by 
Satan, and when lie takus away the temptation 
we see the benefit of it iu the fruit which fol¬ 
lows. 
It is to the credit and glory of the husband¬ 
man for his tree to be laden always with fruit. 
It 16 to the glory of Christ for the Christian 
to be filled with the gifts ot God. Strive to 
bear fruit, not only that you may be known as 
the disciple of Christ, hut that you may glorify 
your Master. 
Every community furnishes instances of in¬ 
dividuals who seem to have successfully evaded 
the divine command, that by the sweat of his 
face man should eat his bread. Large cities are 
infested with these characters, and there is 
hardly a village which does not contain several. 
In the cities many of them are amomr the most 
fashionably-dressed people you will meet; but 
there is always an air which pervades the mau, 
—a something in the out ot bis clothes, the 
style of his carriage and “ the trick o' the eye,” 
which cause city-bred people to avoid him, and 
the policeman to keep a wary watch of his move¬ 
ments. Iu the village such gentry are seldom 
of so imposing an appearance; they usually hang 
around the tavern during the day-time, have im¬ 
probable appointments with nobody-knows- 
whom, at late hours of the night, are suspected 
of having had a hand in every outrage and piece 
of mischief which ever occurred in the vicinity, 
and although they seem to be on speaking terms 
with all the men of the place, are pretty gen¬ 
erally feared and detested. 
Thank God, that the honor still paid to labor 
is such that we naturally suspect the man who 
seems to have nothing to do! However muck 
we dislike labor H such, and however hard we 
toil now to win •^uption from toil in the fu¬ 
ture, the hard am^ftjny Hand, swart and scarred 
with the cvidcipHJ^h&rd work, bears a patent 
of respectability phick is recognized all the world 
over. 
“What tho’ on homely fare we dine, 
Wear koddin gray, find a ’ that; 
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, 
A man’s a man, for a ’ that! 
For a ’ that and a ’ that, 
Their tinsel show, and a ’ that, 
The honest mau, though e’er so poor, 
Is king o ’ men for a 1 that I" 
There arc always some, chiefly the very young, 
who seem to be oblivious ol the contempt in 
which the class above, described are held by all 
honest men, and who think it a very desirable 
thing to imitate them in so far as to strive to 
get a living “by their wits,” as it Is called, 
Again, in a now country, whose resources are 
hut partially developed, fortunes are often made 
with such rapidity, and apparently by suck mere 
etrokes of good luck, as to give young men a 
distaste for the 6low processes of amassing 
wealth in the more legitimate occupations. 
And so, having no capital, they hang around 
the centers of “speculating” enterprise, put 
their hands in their pockets, ami resolve that at 
least they are too good to work. But alas ! *key 
go down the scale of respectability very fast, as 
they are reduced from one mean and petty shill 
to another to keep body son 1 and together; anil 
about the time that they effloresce ai a too-tash- 
ionable snit of clothes, it is well understood 
that they have graduated at the school of vice, 
and taken a pretty high degree. 
It is has always seemed strange to me that any 
community should tolerate tho presence of men 
who will not work. To bo sure we have institu¬ 
tions where, ostensibly, those who have “no 
visible means of suppport.” arc confined; but it 
is only the shabbier sort that get incarcerated 
and then only for a short time. In a perfect 
State, the relations between capital and labor 
would be such that all men would have to 
work certain hours, and the leisure now 
monopolized by a few would be more equi¬ 
tably divided. Dr. Franklin asserted that 
if every man was usefully engaged, four hours 
each day, in such rational occupation as would 
keep his powers In good harmony, there would 
be enough food and clothing for all mankind. 
If this be a fact, you will at. once see that the 
necessity of labor in this world might he made 
a blessing, instead of being, as it is generally 
thought to be, a curse. Four hours a day would 
furnish just about the amount of exercise re¬ 
quired to keep a man Iu a state of good health. 
As it is, a great portion of mankind suffer phys¬ 
ically aud morally by doing nothing :<t all, 
and a still greater portion suffer in the same 
particulars by having more than their fair share 
to do. 
What nan be done about it ? Why, as 1 inti¬ 
mated ubove, no man should be tolerated in u 
com a i unity unless he can prove t hat he shares lu a 
fair and honest way, according to his abilities, in 
the du tii* and responsibilities ol society. It en¬ 
coder idleness odious by treating the idle as you 
dp the vicious, and you will not only make 
One of the greatest problems of our age ia how to 
make woman independent aud self-sustaining.— 
Tribune. 
Hannah Moore’s primary object, in the 
schools which she founded, was to teach the 
principles and practice of domestic economy. 
The ten servants connected with her establish¬ 
ment at “ Barley-Wood” were rendered capa¬ 
ble, through her instructions, of conducting 
homes of their own, in every way economical 
and progressive. That great and good woman 
felt that her relations to those around her, even 
to her servants, involved responsibilities which 
she—herself the servant of another Master— 
could not ignore or transfer toothers. L T nqnes- 
tionahly, in her own day, as in ours, the cause of 
two thirds of the want and unhappiness which 
invaded the dwellings of the poor, were due 
mainly to a genuine ignorance ot the important 
matter of house-keeping, and a lack of economy 
in the disposition of too limited “ ways and 
means.” She did not disdain, then, among her 
lesser activities, to unlock her useful 6torc of 
knowledge and experience, and impart freely to 
those around her—those too whom she wisely 
saw stood most in need of just such instruc¬ 
tions. 
Since the day of Hahslh Moore, many schools 
lor women have been established upon a so-call¬ 
ed practical basis, which, while demanding tor 
the sex a culture quite as deep and comprehen¬ 
sive as is claimed for man, have not been wholly 
oblivious of the fact that woman needs some 
preparation for those special duties in life which 
are certain to devolve upon her. So they have 
taught a great deal of Latin, literature, the 
whole curriculum of the sciences, &c., and 
sandwiched the course of study with a few lec¬ 
tures on house-keeping and cognate mysteries; 
and under color of t his plan have compelled the 
students to perform the drudgery of the institu¬ 
tion. But suc-h schools never will be popular; 
lor girls instinct ively feel that home is the proper 
school of such duties, aud “ mother” the most 
competent teacher. 
Such being the case, how many mothers are 
competent to instruct children and servants in 
such duties ? Here is a sphere in which every 
competent woman may exercise her benevolent 
functions; for there is a notable want of indi¬ 
viduals skilled in house-work and house-keep¬ 
ing, both among mistresses and “help.” Does 
“my lady” ever think how much Mary or 
Kate, or Bridget may learn In the wayof econ¬ 
omy at her hands, besides laying away a snug 
little sum every year from the wastes in her 
kitchen ? It is here, among the poorer classes, 
that 60 much shiftlessness prevails — here that 
there is the ib > nest feeling of helplessness iu 
the presence ot the uses, necessities and pur¬ 
poses of life. 
I have rather wandered off from my theme, 
into the subject of female education. To re¬ 
turn,—let me indicate by an example what I 
mean by economy in household matters. We 
have air-tight stoves, yet how few know the care 
of them! A roaring fire ia built and kept up, 
the dampers are all thrown opeD, and you feel 
your flesh become hot and dry, your eyes dull 
and languid, and you flee to the open air lor 
breath; while one half of the 6ame amount of 
wood may be made to contribute more health 
aud comfort, with less labor to replenish the 
stove, by merely keeping up a bright fire, with 
closed dampers. Your servant, and you too, 
Lady Thriftless, in simply boiling tbe tea-ket¬ 
tle use fuel sufficient to heat an oven fur baking; 
while your dear old-fashioned mother will bake 
a fine cake, a batch of pics, boil a two-hour’s 
vegetable dinner and steam a pudding, with the 
game fire with which she does her ironing. 
But there are times when a little prodigality 
becomes the best economy,—when economy, as 
it is usually understood, is sheer parsimony. 
NEVER TOO OLD TO LEARN 
We are told that Socrates, at an extreme old 
age, learned to play on musical instruments. 
Cato, at eighty-eight years of age, thought 
proper to learn the Greek language. 
Plutarch, when between seventy and eighty, 
commenced the study of Latin. 
Sir Henry Spelman neglected the sciences in 
his youth, but commenced the study of them 
when between fifty and sixty years of age. 
After this time he became a most learned 
antiquarian and lawyer. 
Ludovico, at the great age of one hundred 
and fifteen, wrote the memoirs of his own time; 
a singular exertion noticed by Voltaire, who 
wa6 himself one of the most remarkable in¬ 
stances ot the progress of age iu new studies. 
Aeeareo, a great lawyer, being asked why he 
began the study of law so late, replied that 
indeed he began It late, but he should therefore 
master it the sooner. 
Dryden, in his sixtieth year, commenced the 
Iliad, aud his most pleasing productions were 
written in his old age. 
Franklin did not commence his philosophical 
pursuits until he had reached his fiftieth year. 
Ogilvy, the translator of Homer and Virgil, 
was unacquainted with Latin and Greek till he 
was past fifty. 
Colbert, the famous French Minister, at 
sixty years of age returned to his Latin and 
law studies. 
Boccaccio was thirty-five when he commenced 
his studies in polite literature, yet he became 
one of tbe three great masters of the Tuscan 
dialect—Dante and Petrarch being the other 
two. — Exchange, 
INFLUENCE AND AFFECTION, 
There is a good deal of cant about involuntary 
affection in the world, and all that; but a young 
lady should never let such foolish notions enter 
her head. She should allow the pride of eoncions 
strength of mind to keep her above every fool- 
isb, vain and nonsensical preference toward this 
precious fop aud that idle atlendent on a lady’s 
wilL She should lay it up in her heart as an 
immutable principle that no love can last if not 
based on a right and calm estimation of good 
qualities; or, at least, that if the object 
upon which it is lavished be one whose heart 
and head are not right, misery will surely be her 
portion. A sudden preference for a stranger is 
a very doubtful kind of preference; and the lady 
who allows herself to be betrayed into such a 
silly kind of affection, without knowing a word 
of the man’s character or his position, is guilty 
of an indiscretion which not only reflects unfav¬ 
orably upon ber good name, but argues badly 
for the nature and ground-work of that affection. 
YOUNG MEN GROWING UNPOETICAL 
‘ 1 The girls,’ ’ will not forgive a London critic for 
thus disparaging the promising fathers of their 
own sweet families:—“ I find well educated young 
men of t wenty who have never read the Waverly 
novels; who know nothing of the glorious ro¬ 
mance of Ivanhoe, save what they have gathered 
from a parody in some so called comic publica¬ 
tion, or a burlesque at the theaters. I once 
knew a popular author, all of the present time, 
who had never read the Vicar of Wakefield. 
Otir young men also skip the poets. There was 
a time when parents and guardians had to com¬ 
plain that their sons and wards were Sli&kspeare 
mad, and wasted their time in declaiming 
plays; there was a time, uot long gone, when 
Byron and Shelley had to be hidden away from 
the impressionable youths who were too much 
given to poetry. But, now-a-days, Shakespeare 
and Byron, and the rest of the English classics, 
lie with dust an Inch thick on them.” 
Never Mind your Looks. —Why spend one’s 
life in fretting over the inevitable ? If a man or 
women be plain, why not accept the fact, and go 
their ways, attending to the business aud pleas¬ 
ures - i.lust the same, cultivating other means 
ol agrcenblcness. The plainest men and women 
have been the best beloved and honored, while 
the handsomest of both sexes have often found 
t hemselves obliged to stand aside for them. Be¬ 
sides, were it not so, life is earnest, and may bo 
rendered so noble and so beautiful, despite what 
is considered by surface-people adverse circum¬ 
stances, that, it seems not only weak, but wicked 
and ignoble, to be paralyzed by such accidents. 
Nor is such weakness confined to women, who 
are wroDgly supposed to be the vainer sex. 
Singing.— Singing is a great institution. It 
oils the wheels of care, and supplies the place of 
suushine. A man who sings has a good heart 
under his shirt front. Such a man not only 
works more willingly, but he works more con¬ 
stantly. A singing cobbler will earn as much 
money again as a cordwaiucr who gives way to 
low spirits and indigestion. Avaricious men 
never sing. The man who attacks singing 
throws a stone at the head of hilarity, and 
would, if he could, rob June of its roses and 
August ol - its meadow larks. Such a man 
should be looked to. 
One of the most cogcut arguments uot to be 
weary in well doing is- that Christ was not 
weary. What if he Had. been weary, what if 
iu His rugged, thorny path, and hearing the 
ponderous load of a world’s atonement, Ho 
had omitted one duty, or shrunk from even 
one trial? Heaven, earth, and hell would have 
been convulsed, and our hopes buried beyond 
resurrection. But no! lie endured to the cud, 
and finished the work which was given Him to 
do; and while thereby he made possible our 
salvation, “ lie left us an example that we should 
follow in His steps.” 
The history of unconscious influence is a his¬ 
tory which eternity alone will reveal. Tho 
volumes of that history are laid up iu the 
arhives of heaven. They will there be pursued 
with adoring wonder. From their pages many 
a humble Christian will learn for the first time 
the work he has really been doing while tread¬ 
ing the obscure and thorny path appointed to 
him iu tills vale of tears. But oven in this world 
we are sometimes permitted to light upon a 
stray leaf of the history of unconscious influence. 
1 
