120 
rWritten for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
MAY. 
BY BELL CLINTON. 
■Where the vine-leaf shadows 
On the carpet play, 
“Catching at a sunbeam," 
Sits our darling May. 
None may call her “ beautiful, ” 
Though she's round and fair; 
Eyes of softest azure, 
“ Bonny brown " her hair; 
But a winsome treasure 
i Is our little Mat, 
j» Making bright the pathway 
Over which we stray. 
Father! guard her. Guide us 
In wisdom, to unfold 
The precious mind immortal. 
Outweighing gems or gold. 
We ask not that her portion 
Be earthly wealth or fame, 
But may she •' seel; Thee early,” 
And glorify Thy name. 
When the sacred mission 
Of her life is o’er, 
And low voices calling, 
Bid her leave Earth's shore, 
Father I send a convoy 
Of angels bright, we pray, 
Up to the blessed Savior 
To bear our darling May. 
Chenango County, 1862. 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker ] 
FOREST LEAVES. 
BY HELEN MAR. 
Friend Rdral: —We present you with a small 
bouquet of Forest Leaves, the best we can procure 
among the bleak White Mountains. As cold winter 
passes away and genial spring advances, perchance 
they may grow brighter with flowers intermingled. 
Though not very pleasing to the eye or taste, we 
trust they will not be entirely destitute of inediciual 
qualities, by which we hope some minds diseased 
may be beneGtted! 
Man, being dependent upon his Maker and upon 
his fellow men, cannot say to his brother, “ 1 have 
no need of thee.” The rich are no less dependent 
upon the poor thau are the poor upon the rich. 
The scientific man is dependent upon the day 
laborer, the minister upon his people, the teacher 
upon his patrous for physical support; while they, 
in return, are dependent, on the labors of teachers, 
and scholars for our institutions of learning, moral¬ 
ity, and religion, without which, just laws cannot be 
enacted and sustained. 
This fabric of human society is like a web of net¬ 
work, wherein one stitch cannot be broken without 
impairing the strength and beauty of the whole. 
The relations we bear to each other, and the influ¬ 
ence we exert, constitute the warp and woof of this 
web. on which arc imprinted all the beauties and 
deformities, the good and ill, the happiness and mis¬ 
ery of life! Yet how thoughtlessly do we weave 
this web, and how little do we appreciate the deli¬ 
cate texture of ibe material? In every community 
there are sensitive minds who suffer untold agonies 
from the careless roughness, the seeming obtuseness 
of their associates. More especially is this true in 
the marriage relations. We know not why it is. but 
some husbands act as if the nature of their wives 
was completely metamorphosed by the marriage 
ceremony. During the days of courtship they 
treated them with politeness and w r ore the garb of a 
gentleman. Now, that the bird is caught, these 
things are laid aside as too trifling to occupy their 
attention, and a rapid descent is made toward low 
breeding—not in some instances, excepting vul¬ 
garity and profanity! 
Tbe feelings of the wife are often outraged by 
ridicule, scorn, and contempt. She is ridiculed for 
her sensitiveness and over delicacy, scorned and 
contemptously treated, if she persists in pursuing a 
course of conduct which shall not violate the highest 
and purest impulses of her nature! Do men who 
thus undervalue ibe deep, pure love Of woman's 
soul, and are oblivious to all the finer feelings of her 
heart,—men who look upon a woman as a plaything 
or a necessary appendage to their household, 
ictained for their interest or self gratifications,—do 
such men expect to enjoy the sweets of wedded life? 
Fnder such circumstances, a harmony of feeling, a 
union of soul, would be a moral impossibility! 
The result of this treatment, this petty tyranny on 
the part of the husband, is, in many instances, dis¬ 
cord and strife. The feelings of the w ife are con¬ 
tinually crossed, her pride is wounded, she is 
ashamed of her husband! Tbe. more she tries to 
persuade him not to “talk so,” the more he will do 
it. The more she tries to please him the more he 
will try to vex her! This is a sad picture, but 'tia 
not overdrawn. Many men vex their wives out of 
sheer gratification,—just to see their “spunk,”—as 
if it was a light thing to wound and lacerate the 
feelings of one whom he had, at the sacred alter, 
sworn to love, protect, and cherish! Cherish.’ 
Where, O where, in all the laud, shall we find one 
who lives up to the sentiment contained in that 
word cherish? Blessed is that wife whose husband 
cherisheth her. She is truly to be envied. 
Another result of this harsh treatment, should the 
wife possess a delicate, sensitive nature, is loss of 
health. Some husbands, who, in their obtuseness, 
have never dreamed that any act of theirs could 
injure the. health of their wives, may be surprised 
at this remark, yet bow many wives are there, who, 
while reading this articles, will mentally exclaim, 
“f/tis is true. 1 - Many a wife has wept the hours of 
night away because of the angry frown, the obscene 
jest, the biting sarcasm, or the cold monosyllable 
from her husband; then, as she awoke in the morn¬ 
ing from her fevered dreams, was met again with a 
cold repulse, which totally unfitted her for all the 
duties of the day. All who understand anything of 
the laws of our being, know the injurious etleet 
which mental depression has upon the physical sys¬ 
tem. Who can eat and digest the proper quantity 
of food, or perform their daily amount of labor, 
when they have just ascertained that they are on 
the eve of bankruptcy, or that a near friend has been 
removed by death? Not unlike this is the effect of 
the daily behavior of many men upon the health of 
their wives; hence dejection of spirits, dyspepsia, 
melancholy, and a train of evils, not unfrequently 
insanity, and sometimes suicide follows! Let hus¬ 
bands seriously reflect upon this fact, and change 
their roughness for gentleness. 
'KJ 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
THAT COMMON DELUSION. 
Friends Barbara and S. J. IT.:—I have read 
your “spicy” contributions to tbe Rural, under the 
above caption, and feel so indignant that those of 
my own sex should take such a one sided view of 
life, that I can not resist tbe impulse which urges 
me to write. Have you both been roared in this 
land of religious light and liberty, without a Bible? 
If so, procure one at once, and turn to Gen. i: 2T, 
28, and see if that corresponds with the doctrine 
you advocate? Marriage is a divine institution. 
God blessed the pair in the garden of Eden; Christ 
and the Apostles regarded it as tbe most binding of 
all contractu; and you render it a subject for sneer.-. 
Our mothers were sensible women! They bad no 
idea of an “Old Maid's Retreat.” where limy could 
be perfectly ignorant of “ shirt buttons, pantaloons, 
and babies.” They considered these important 
item? in their homes. Would there were more such 
mothers now-a-days! I am glad Serene was sensi¬ 
ble enough to engage herself to that young minister. 
Yes, and I hope, should you ever meet her in alter 
years, 6he will be a loved and loving mother. De¬ 
pend upon it, she is just the one for a minister's wife. 
You, S. J. H.. say “ you are one of the chosen few 
who repudiate all ideas of matrimony, and intend 
to live a life of single blessedness, and have your 
own way.” Just as though there could be such a 
thing iu this world as single blessedness! As for 
“having your own way,” I fear you will be disap¬ 
pointed, even should you be an “ Old Maid” and 
live with your friend Barbara. Did it never occur 
to you that she, too, would like to have her own 
way? I fear the “roses, and books, and music,” 
(which are all good.) would scarcely serve to ren¬ 
der the “ Retreat" pleasant to you, were she as selfish 
as you seem to be, judging from your correspond¬ 
ence. I am of the opinion that you arc the ones 
laboring under the “delusion,” instead of Serene. 
My friends, I do earnestly hope that before you are 
too firmly settled in this erroneous doctrine of celib¬ 
acy. some good young men, ministers, if need be, 
(for you both need preaching to,) may come along 
and root it from your hearts. Oh! that your eyes 
may be opened, your minds expanded, and you be 
made to see, aud tread in a more useful path than 
the one that leads to the “ Old Maid’s Retreat!” 
Yours, in favor of the “Union,” 
Clarendon, Mich., 1802. Sarah J. W. 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
WHAT I’D LIKE TO KNOW —NO. II. 
Firstly, (that's a law term.) why need a man 
wear what I call a high-top hat? ’Tis a very incon¬ 
venient and unbecoming headMg. If it isn’t ad¬ 
justed with a plumb-line, 1 always tremble for bis 
equilibrium, as he resembles the leaning towers of 
Pisa. I always supposed (in my childish (?) sim¬ 
plicity) that a hat was intended as a protection fo r 
the head, but I never could discover the protection 
afforded by a cylindrical beaver-skin, pointing hea¬ 
venward. with a rim sufficiently narrow to id the 
sun and storm have full drive in the face. And 
then, to keep the pipe, on, it must fit so snugly as to 
leave a beautiful crimson iurrow across the fore¬ 
head. Men who wish nature had added a few more 
inches to the tops of their heads, are exceedingly 
apt to “sport a beaver,” uot unfrequently of such 
a great height, that one is puzzled to know which 
holds the brains, the hat or the wearer. A few 
bales of teeWeather would answer better, I think. 
Secondly, why need women wear bonnets that 
make them look as though they were about to be 
translated , aud which give enough space in the top 
ro cultivate a patch of full-grown cabbages? One 
may attend fashionable service on the Sabbath, and 
through “the dim haunts of the uight” he will see 
an innumerable array of feminines rising skyward, 
each bearing on her head a disc-like garden of gay 
flowers, with now and then a willow blossom staring 
at, you, like a sun in the firmament Although lie 
may shut his eyes tighter, he can't help seeing the 
whole embassy of dahlias and sunflowers nodding 
and winking at him most furiously, while here and 
there a beaver will dance up, like some huge engine's 
steam pipe, to give ton to the assemblage. It 
would be quite a relief if he could awake aud find 
it had been only a horrible night-mare; but no, they 
pursue one all day, real, live ghosts they are, visible 
and tangible. 
You may think (?) i don’t know much, but “for 
the life of-me” I eau’t see why people will so “bow 
the knee to Baal." Let that which is becoming, 
convenient, and sensible, be your fashion. This is 
tbe way sensible people dress. Only those who 
have a lack of brains attempt to supply the defi¬ 
ciency artificially. There is a medium between all 
extremes, which is usually sate to follow, I believe 
in people’s holding their own good taste and conve¬ 
nience paramount to fashion plates. 
Minnie Mintwood. 
Alfred College, Alleg. Co., N. Y., 1862. 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
AN OPINION. 
In the language of the litany, “Good Lord deli¬ 
ver us” from an oJd maid. I care not for the 
romance that may be attached to her former history 
of “hope deferred till the heart was sick,” of a 
“youthful lover lying far beneath the sod,” of 
parents refusing consent to her marriage in her 
youth. There are such cases, I expect, as old 
maids becoming such from principle, still my honest 
opinion is that an old maid was not only meant to 
be such from the beginning, but also for some wise 
reason was meant to lie a vexation to whatever she 
comes in contact with. I expect I shall draw down 
upon my defenceless head the wrath of the femi¬ 
nines, but I would like to know, in all reason, what 
need there is of a woman acting so much like a sim¬ 
pleton, because she chances to be without a hus¬ 
band! I don't say every one, for there are some 
unmarried ladies who are an ornament to their sex, 
and who are beloved by every one; but they are 
the exception, not the rule. It is as much as a 
man's head is worth to live in the house with a real 
old maid. She wouldn't marry, not she; but if any 
biped wearing pantaloons comes along, how she 
will simper, and twist, and give them to understand 
she is ready for matrimony. 
Now. there is no disgrace in being an old maid, 
and there is nothing that, looks so foolish as to see 
young ladies take up with anything that comes 
along, without regard to their own good or happi¬ 
ness, for fear they will never get married; but the 
query is with me. why can't an old maid be as 
pleasant and agreeable as any woman, and why 
need she be the mischievous, prying disposition 
that she invariably is? I have thrown down the 
gauntlet: if anybody would eat me up, let them 
come on. x. 
ELfiiL KEW-Y 
[Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker.] 
STARLIGHT. 
BY MRS. A. ISABELLE HORTON. 
Oh, would that words might be given 
For the thoughts of my heart to-night, 
As I see the shadowy gleaming 
Of the stars on tbe snow so white. 
While the sable wings of the midnight 
Are folded over the earth, 
Like a patient watcher waiting 
For another morning’s birth. 
The leafless trees seem shrinking. 
Like Lear, in the story old, 
From the winds around them shrieking, 
With their breath so icy cold. 
The stars in their midnight marches 
Move to a strain sublime, 
And on through Heaven's mystic arches. 
To its melody keep time— 
Like a dream, or a wonderful vision, 
There straleth o'er my soul 
A gleam from that Land Elysiau, 
Where the ‘ tides of Eternity” roll. 
And a voice 'mid the starlight watches 
Ring? out on these shores of Time, 
And my listening spirit catches 
Strauge words from a theme divine. 
It speaks of a world whose splendor 
Is brighter than noon-day sun, 
Whose light is more soft and tender 
Than the star-light gloaming down : 
Where is no day's declining, 
Where no midnight shadows rest, 
For JhtioyaiiV glory shining 
Lights up those regions blest ; 
Where no sound of weary weeping 
Falls on the troubled ear, 
Where none arc by death beds, keeping 
' Vigils of sorrow and fear. 
And my spirit longs to be flinging 
Aside it* prison bars. 
And in joyous cadence he singing 
To the rhythm of the stars. 
For I know by the wondrous glory 
Flooding the midnight sky, 
They are telling to carlti a story 
To-night, of Import high— 
Of the deathless spirit's Heaven, 
Its glory, beauty, and light. 
Oh, would that to me 'twere given 
To read their language aright! 
Dundee, N. Y., 1862. 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
THE STUDENT OF NATURE. 
I was pleased with the short article, by your cor¬ 
respondent. “ Nellie,” in the Rural of the 30th 
August last. Truly, as she remarks, “There is no 
study that- awakes such high and holy thoughts as 
that of Nature.” I might add—“illuminated by 
revelation.” Street says, in one of his poems: 
“ Nature is the best teacher. She unfolds 
Her treasures to Ids search, unseals his eye. 
Illumes his mind, and purities ills heart, 
An influence breathes from all the sights and sounds 
Of her existence ; slic is wisdom's self. * 
This is generally conceded true, as it regards the 
sublime Sciences of Astronomy, and Geology. But 
it is equally true of the other branches of Natural 
Science. Whether we investigate the course and 
phases of the planets, or the microscopic remains of 
organic matter of bygone ages, and realize the fact 
of Byron’s line, that— 
“The dust wo tread upon was once alive !'*' 
or, those living agencies now at work, in rearing 
structure? for the future habitations of man, how¬ 
ever minute or vast, all, and each branch of the 
Natural Sciences, whether the Auimal, Vegetable, 
or Mineral kingdom, presents objects for study cal¬ 
culated to induce reflections that will prove of more 
lasting benefit to the rational soul, than all the sor¬ 
did pursuits, however successful, to gain the wealth 
aud distinctions of the world. 1 do not mean to 
despise the wealthy and honorable, who attain 
either by merit aud industry, and are, withal, 
kindly disposed toward the more humble deuizen, 
who feels that, there is but one life to live on earth, 
and no chance for rectifying mistakes, and who pre¬ 
fers poverty to dishonor or a sullied conscience. 
Yes, Nellie. “There is sunshine tor all. if we do 
not go through tbe world with our eyes shut.” 
Faeh object, viewed in its proper light, is a letter in 
God's alphabet, in the book of Nature. Let us 
endeavor to learn our letters, arrange them into 
words aud sentences, so that, perchance, we may 
spell out some of the mysterious attributes which 
veil liis Majesty, and through Nature, come to 
Nature's God! But. wo must not overlook the small 
tilings. Solomon refers to the ant, and surely I 
am pardonable for illustrating a point, by doing 
likewise. 
Reader, have you ever stood beside an ant-hill, 
and studied their industry and economy? I have, 
and atn perhaps indebted to the writings of the 
Rev. Kirby and Spbnoe for the inducement, or at 
least the information they gave, enabled me to verify 
cerlain facts. Ants, like the bees, consist of males, 
females and neuters, forming vast colonies. The 
males and females, on emerging from the pupa, are 
furnished with ample wings. I will, however, con¬ 
fine my remarks to the female. Adorned with her 
gossamer wings, she traverses the air, enjoying the 
light and liberty of recreation, over field and mea¬ 
dow; sporting aloft and mingling in the choir of 
aerial dancers, with the other sex, (whose lives are 
short but merry,) sobered in due time and chas¬ 
tened, they descend, forego their winged enjoyment, 
aud exercising a great sell-denial, they pluck -their 
wings voluntarily from their shoulders, iu order to 
be the better adapted to their domestic duties, each 
individual constructing a subterranean abode, in 
which she may depoeite ami attend to her germs, 
and cherish her embtyotie young through tbe varied 
stages oi their transformation, until they are fully 
developed aud capable of self-protection. During 
all this time, she bestows her maternal care so assid¬ 
uously and unremitingly as to put to shame many a 
mother claiming to be a sliming light. We may 
well say to such—“'Go to the ant,” ye mothers; 
“consider her ways and be wise." 
But the beligerent may sayAnts also make wars 
upon each other, kidnap, and depredate generally, 
and would inculcate other lessons than those of 
industry aud maternal care and solicitude. 1 
might here enter upon a vast field of speculation; 
but not disposed to pm “ out to sea,” I will simply 
say, that the student of Nature sees much to admire, 
and finds how true it is, that “a little learning is 
a dangerous thing.” The superficial observer often 
errs in judgment; nor, will I undertake to say, that 
I have f; drank so deeply of the ‘Pierian spring’” 
as to have become sobered again. 
One thing I do know, that whatever knowledge I 
may have acquired by close observation and expe¬ 
rience. 1 have not had the drill of a collegiate edu¬ 
cation, which some of my learned friends comment 
upon..because I do not give the scholastic ring to 
the technicalities derived from the Greek aud Latin 
languages. I am therefore not considered an edu¬ 
cated man. 
Well, I yield the icall to those gentlemen, with 
the consoling thought that if they thrust me into the 
kennel, I may, perchance, even there pick up a 
crumb of comfort, for Nature is everywhere. Let 
us but have the rays of guardian light, that leads 
first to find, and then to do the will of God. 
Lancaster, Pa., 1862. J. Stauffer. 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.) 
LITERATURE FOR YOUNG RURALISTS. 
Do any of my young rural friends ever think of 
being literary men? Are any of them collecting a 
small library, to instruct as well as amuse them¬ 
selves when they have a few leisure moments on a 
rainy afternoon, or a long winter evening? And do 
any of them think of the great importance of farm¬ 
ers being educated and having a knowledge of the 
numerous sciences connected with agriculture? 
There are many who think farming as small, or 
simple business, and look upon farmers as men who 
require only a little common sense to cultivate their 
farms. Yet farming is one of the noblest employ¬ 
ments on earth. It is the basis of manufactures aud 
commerce; in short, is thefoundation of everything. 
What is the manufacturing of a needle or a button, 
compared with ill Then, ought it not to receive 
great attention, and stand high among the many 
employments of man ? 
And the farmer himself is not to be considered an 
humble man. He should realize the importance of 
his position, when millions are dependent on him 
for their subsistence. To be sure, there are many 
farmers who never saw Ibe college walls; but look 
at the sciences connected with his trade, (or profes¬ 
sion. as it might be called.) He should have a 
knowledge of the science of botany, which holds an 
important position in agriculture; of chemistry, to 
learn the art of analyzing the soils and manures 
with which he has to do; also ol' geology, animal 
and vegetable physiology, entomology, Ac.; all of 
which are of much importance to him. He makes 
the farm his laboratory, and the fireside his study. 
We do not wish to cultivate our farms entirely by 
theory, but theory and practice are both to be con¬ 
sidered. Aud let us never forget the opportunities 
of the fireside, and what we owe to its enjoyments 
and advantages. Many men have taken important 
positions in the world, by improving their leisure 
moments; and why not wc take a step in agricul¬ 
ture, remembering that it requires knowledge and 
much thought to make farmiug successful, and to 
make two spears of grass grow where only one grew 
before. Juvenile Reader. 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.) 
TRULY GREAT. 
How few arc the names of all history to which 
the term great, in its true sense, can be applied. 
Many have sought after it and fondly believed they 
had attained it; but the coming years have swept 
away the flimsy vail they had drawn over their 
secret thoughts, and laid bare their masked de¬ 
formity. No selfish action can stand the searching 
glance of time; so no mere conquerer can justly 
claim the title of true greatness. 
An Alexander might overrun a world, or a 
Napoleon a continent, but they could not claim 
this crown; for the ashes of burned cities and towns, 
and blood of innocents, speak not of justice and hu- 
manity, but of intolerance and carnage. 
But there are names around which this halo shines, 
brows on which this laurel shall never fade; not 
beacons lighted to deceive, but lofty waymarkson 
tbe great road of life, staid and sure. That brave 
Swiss patriot, who in his love of country gathered 
in liis noble breast a sheaf of Auslrian spears to 
“ make way for liberty,” may justly claim this recom¬ 
pense, Our own Wasuinctox has truly won this 
crown from foe as well as friend. He was a warrior, 
but never for conquest; a ruler, but never an op¬ 
pressor; always a defender ot the rights of his own 
country, but never with injustice to another. The 
wreath that circles liis brow has never been dimmed 
by comparison with others. 
So our own day, though darkened by the basest 
treason and rebellion of all time, may yet claim its 
bright names as a priceless legacy to posterity. Tho 
deeds of an Ellsworth, a Baker, aud a Lyon, | 
have become the property of a nation; aud though 
sculptured marble rests over their mohlering forms, 
a more lasting monument is graven on tbe hearts of 
the free, and those striving for the boon, over all tbe 
earth But not alone with these should we pause, 
for from the Bounding Atlantic to the plains of the 
far West, are laid the mortal remains of those 
equally deserving; and could the devotion and 
bravery of many of ihe nameless and unnoticed 
dead be known and recorded, they, too, would be 
cherished by tbe good and true of all time as brave 
men, well worthy the meed of truly great. 
Springfield. WLs.. 1862. J. A. Smitb. 
SELF-RESPECT. 
One of the strongest and most prevalent incen¬ 
tives to virtue, is the desire of the world’s esteem. 
We act right rather that our actions may be ap¬ 
plauded by others than to have the approbation of 
our own conscience. We refrain from doing wrong 
not so much from principle as from the fear of in¬ 
curring the censure of the world. A due regard 
ought, indeed, to be paid to public opinion; but 
there is a regard we owe ourselves, of far greater 
importance, a regard which keeps us from commit¬ 
ting a wrong action when withdrawn, from the 
observation of the world, as much as when exposed 
to its broad glare. If we are as good as others,— 
and it is our own fault if we are not,— why stand 
in more* fear of others than of ourselves? What is 
there in other men that makes us fear their censure 
more than our own? In other respects, we are apt 
to overrate ourselv es in our own esteem. I admire 
the sentiment of Cassius, when he exclaims— 
I had as lief not be, as live to be 
In awe of snob a thing as I mjself.” 
Beauty. — The criterion of true beauty is that it 
increases on examination; that of false, that it 
lessens. There is something, therefore, in true 
beauty that corresponds with right reason, aud is 
not merely the creature of fancy,— Lord Oreville. 
ON THE FERRY 
BY MARY CLBMMBR AMES. 
On the ferry, sailing over 
To the city, lying dim 
In the mellow mists of evening, 
On the river’s further rim, 
On the ferry, gazing outward 
O'er the ocean far and cold, 
While the blue bay dips its waters 
In the sunset’s fleeting gold. 
On the ferry, gazing outward, 
O, thou ocean strong and wide, 
Every pulse is heating measure 
With the rhythm of the tide. 
While the waves break, swift and eager, 
Motionless tile great ships stand. 
And above, each pendulous pennon 
Lures me with a beckoning hand 
Shifting o'er the uneasy water. 
Lean the sunset liars of flame, 
Like the legendary ladder 
On which angels went and came. 
In another summer evening, 
On a little way before, 
I;shall reach another ferry, 
Seeking swift a further shore. 
I shall cross a drearier ferry— 
Crossing to return no more— 
Sailing for a fairer city 
Lying on a fairer shore. 
Will Goa's sunshine beam around me, 
Fusing every wave in gold f 
Will you row tne gently over, 
Charon boatman, calm and cold f 
When the earth airs cease to chill me, 
When my meager day is done, 
Boatman, bear tne through the splendor 
Falling from Uic setting sun. 
Bear me outward to the mystery 
The eternal will unfold— 
To the unrevealed glory 
Hid within yon gates of gold. 
Life may touch the soul so gently 
We can hardly call it rough, 
Yet well all say. in its closing, 
Our brief day s been long enough. 
So I stand with gathered garments. 
Ere the deeper shadows fall— 
Drops my heart its last, last idol. 
Listening for tho boatman’s call. 
Como ! and by my spirit’s sinking— 
By my shrinking fears untold, 
Bear me gently o'er those waters, 
Charon, boatman, calm and cold. 
LIFE’S AUTUMN. 
Like the leaf, life has its fading. We speak and 
think of it with sadness, just as we think of the 
autumn season. But there should be no sadness 
at the fading of life that has done well its work. 
If we rejoice at the advent of a new life, if we 
welcome the coming of a new pilgrim to the un¬ 
certainties of this world's way, why should there be 
so much gloom when all these uncertainties are 
passed, and life at its waning wears the glory of a 
completed task. Beautiful as is childhood in its 
freshness and innocence, its beauty is that of untried 
life. It is the beauty of promise, of spring, of the 
bud. A holier and rarer beauty is the beauty 
which the waning life of faith and duty wears. It 
is the beauty of a thing completed; aud as men 
coming together to congratulate each other when 
some great work has been achieved, and see in its 
concluding nothing but gladness, so ought we to 
feel when the setting sun flings back its beams upon 
a life that has answered well life’s purpose. When 
the bud drops blighted, and the mildew blasts tbe 
early grain, and there goes all hope uf the harvest, 
—one may well be sad; but when the ripened year 
sinks amid its garniture of autumn flowers and 
leaves, why should we regret or murmur? And so 
a life that is ready and waiting for the “well done” 
of God. whose latest virtues and charities are its 
noblest, should be driven back to God iu uncom¬ 
plaining reverence, we rejoice that earth is capable 
of so much goodness, and is permitted such virtue. 
—J. F. W. Ware. 
GOD A LOVER OF BEAUTY. 
We doubt not that God is a lover of beauty. We 
speak reverently. He fashioned the worlds in beau¬ 
ty when there was no eye to behold them but his 
own. All along tho wild old forests ho has carved 
the forms of beauty. Every cliff, aud stem, and 
flower is a form of beauty. Every hill, and dale, 
and landscape is a picture of beauty. Every cloud, 
and mist-wreath, and vapor-vail is a shadowy re¬ 
flection of beauty. Every spring, and rivulet, river 
and ocean, is a glossy mirror of beauty. Every 
diamond, and rock, and pebbly beach is a mine of 
beauty. Every sea, and planet, and star is a blaz¬ 
ing face of beauty. All along the aisles of earth, 
all over the arches of heaven, all through the ex¬ 
panses of the. universe, are scattered, in rich and 
infinite profusion, the life-gems of beauty. All nat¬ 
ural motion is beauty in action. The winds, the 
waves, the clouds, the trees, the birds, the animals, 
all move beautifully, aud beautifully do the light- 
worlds of the skies dance their eternal cotillon of 
glory. From the mote that plays its frolic in the 
sun-beam, to the world that blazes along the sap¬ 
phire spaces of the firmament, are visible the ever- 
varying features of the enrapturing spirit of beauty. 
All this great realm of dazzling and bewildering 
beauty was made by God. 
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. 
The education of the heart is the work of domestic 
life, and when this preliminary is neglected, all the 
endeavors of the school-master will be fruitless. In 
the religious education of the lower orders, there is 
seldom, I fear, any appeal made to the heart and 
affections. The religion of the vulgar is, therefore, 
in general gloomy, superstitious, and I had almost 
said ferocious. While all the other intellectual fac¬ 
ulties are permitted to tie dormant for want of culti¬ 
vation, the imagination is roused and filled with the 
darkest images. The tendency of this temper is to 
proclaim distrust, suspicion, envy, and malevolence; 
and when spiritual pride is added, it brings forth 
arrogance and presumption. This is not ihe religion 
of Jesus Christ. Far others are its fruits; widely 
opposite is its tendency on the human heart! 
The first view of the Deity to be given to the poor 
as well as to the rich, ie as the Giver of all good- 
The universality of His providence and His pro¬ 
tecting care ought to be carefully instilled. Ly 
represeutiug the Supreme as a malignant spy and 
an avenging tyrant, no affections consonant to the 
spirit of the gospel can possibly be produced.— 
Elizabeth Hamilton. 
