I 8 
* ? 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker, 
THE SWEET WEE MAID. 
• BY CASTANETS. 
The rain-bow circles the regal brow 
Of glorious Day on his throne sublime; 
The orange swings on a curving bough. 
Fair in the suilJe of a sunny clime; 
But a sweet wee maid. 
In yon leafy shade, 
Has the light and the grace of them both for me. 
The piling glories that Hood the west 
From the trailing robes of the sun at ev’n, 
Lighting brown night with her starry breast, 
Into the sapphire spaces of heav'n. 
For the sweet wee maid. 
In yon leafy shade. 
Are ornaments, decking her home, to me. 
, HI. . 
The hues that circle the brow of Day, 
And the golden fruit in the tropic noon; 
Or the amber tints in the sun's highway. 
Gilding the edge of the silver moon, 
To the sweet wee maid. 
In yon leafy shade. 
Forever are pointing the way, to me. 
Hurrahville, N. Y. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
FEMALE EDUCATION. 
Among barbarians, woman is either a gaudy 
doll ora senile drudge; and both these condi¬ 
tions, though socially opposite, maybe roughly 
estimated as morally one. In neither case is any 
effort made toward Intellectual or moral culture. 
Nature is left to herself, or stimulated toward 
wrong, or its innate aspirations are stilled by a 
forced and crouching servility. 
This, however, is not, and never has been, 
exclusively predicable of barbarism. We regret 
to say that its counterpart, though shorn of 
much that is repulsive, may be found in our own 
boasted civilization. The same may be true of 
other civilizations as well; hut with that we 
have nothing to do. The question for us to 
consider is, “How is it with ourselves?” Our 
remarks will pertain solely to those institutions 
in which girls and young ladies are erroneously 
said to be educated? 
As in Colleges into which none but males are 
admitted, so in Female Seminaries, the curricula 
of studies vary but Httlo. It will then be stifll- 
clent for our purpose briefly to notice in detail 
one of these curricula , and the thoroughness 
with which the studies are severally pursued. 
We shall observe no particular order. 
The studies generally are: Mathematics as fur 
as Trigonometry; Latin, comprising a modicum 
of Caesar, a few books of the iEneid, and some¬ 
times the Odes of Horace; Butler's Analogy, 
Rhetoric, Elements of Criticism, French, some¬ 
times German, History, Natural Philosophy, 
Botany, Painting and Music, As we enumerate 
these from memory, we ask pardon if anything 
has been omitted; although, as they must consti¬ 
tute about the sum aud substance of what young 
ladies study, a slight omission can make very 
little difference. Wc have no desire to mis¬ 
represent. 
And now It may bo asked, “What docs the 
above curriculum amount to ? ” We answer that 
It. does very well }>cr se. but that, being dealt, out 
on homcBopathic principles, aud superficially at, 
that, it practically amounts to very little. For 
example, why should not a young lady study 
the calculus ? For business purposes Arithmetic 
is sufficient; but for t.hc higher purposes of cul¬ 
ture the calculus should not be omitted. Yet, 
how many young ladies graduate with a thor¬ 
ough under*lauding even of Geometry? Gen¬ 
erally propositions aud demonstrations are 
quickly memorized for the occasion, and as 
quickly forgotten when the occasion has passed. 
Of course such study does not promote culture, 
aud both the course and method of Instruction 
are in so far deficient. In this respect, however, 
youug ladies are on a par with most College 
students. 
The same thing may be affirmed of Latin. 
There arc doubtless good female Latin scholars; 
but wc have met few ladies who could construe 
Sallust or the Eclogues of Virgil with even tol¬ 
erable accuracy. As for the older or later Latin 
Poets, they of course know nothing at all about 
them. Greek, “ the highest attainment of hu¬ 
man culture,” is seldom or never taught In these 
institutions. Butler’s Analogy deservedly occu¬ 
pies a high place in all tfieso curricula ; but we 
will venture the assertion that not one young 
lady in ten really understands Butler. Meta¬ 
physics proper we believe is entirely ignored. 
Of Rhetoric we will say nothing, as we know of 
no School or College in this country in which it 
is taught, with nuy regard to the deep and inti¬ 
mate relation between thought and expression 
which Theremin has sought to exhibit. In 
French the result® arc generally more satisfac¬ 
tory, and we wish we could say the same foe 
German. There is some division of opinion 
among scholars as to the utility of History as a 
special study —i. e., in schools. That this study 
is in many respects necessary there can be no 
doubt; but some think that if the time consumed 
in studying History at school were spent in Latiu 
or on some other fundamental branch, the en¬ 
hanced culture thus attained would be far more 
valuable than the historical facts acquired in tho 
other ease, and that with this culture History 
would be more appreciatively studied by the 
graduate at home, than without it by the 
undergraduate in the class-poom. Natural Phi¬ 
losophy Is frequently glanced at, but seldom or 
never studied. Botany, ditto. Painting shows 
better.* Judging by results, we should say that 
Music was more attended to in female schools 
than anything else. 
-< 9 r» 
Li & 
We have not attended to Reading and Composi¬ 
tion; but we take pleasure in stating that we 
havo heard young ladies in this city read essays 
- and criticisms which would have done honor to 
University graduates. Wo also take pleasure in 
stating that, as we have been informed, in one 
female seminary at least in this city, the Scrip¬ 
tures are studied under the direction of a teacher 
well qualified to expound them. 
, Now if our description of the above curriculum. 
is even mainly correct, what is the inference ? Is 
it not that Mathematics, Latin, and the Analogy, 
j are inserted more to attract custom than to be dili¬ 
gently studied and accurately taught ? And why 
is Greek left out ? Is it because women are in¬ 
tellectually inferior to men ? If so, they need 
all^he more culture. Is It because of the scarcity 
of competent instructors lu that department? 
We hope that that objection is not valid. Or is 
it because such knowledge In woman Is popularly 
regarded as superfluous ? If no, it surely is no 
compliment to our appreciation of women, and 
consequently no compliment to our civilization. 
All scholars agree that the true end of education 
is the symmetrical development/of the higher 
faculties of man. Hence, -education should be 
pursued, in and of itself with little or no refer¬ 
ence to any prospective employment or social 
status. Vocations should not bo chosen till after 
graduation. Then the mind, judiciously trained 
at school, will evince superiority, in any direction, 
by thoroughness and rapidity of progress. 
All this applies to men and women equally. 
Women should be jhe sole primary educators of 
mankind; Who, but a mother, can properly 
stimulate and direct the tender mini} of her own 
young offspring? For the accomplishment of 
this task the grand summation of natural and 
artificial qualifications can and should be made 
available. Most women are well fitted by 
nature for this work. They should be equally 
well fitted by culture. This culture will be attain¬ 
able when Greek, Latin and Mathematics are 
each and all faithfully taught,— in other words, 
when tjif se three branches become the staple of 
Academic instruction throughout this country. 
Tllcn, and not till then, will the world receive a 
certain pledge of the permanency of Republican 
institutions. a. 
LOVE’S FANTASIES. 
We arc assured by certain travellers that, the 
women of Russia love to be beaten by their hus¬ 
bands ; and, if an old song in the patois of Lan¬ 
guedoc may be regarded as authority on the 
subject, the same fantasy was entertained by the 
women of Montpelier. Frenchmen are great 
admirers of beaut} - —so great, indeed, that “ a . 
sure cure for love is a homely woman” pass¬ 
ed Into a proverb among them. But this general , 
rule, in practice, was found to admit of some ex- « 
ceptlons; because, in France, os elsewhere, it j 
must happen that “love is blind." Consequent¬ 
ly, they had another proverb, which was, if any- j- 
thing, more correct in point of fact than the ' 
other: “As a homely house often contains a ' 
comfortable fireside, so a homely figure often 
contains a genial spirit," Goodness, grace, and 
Intellectual qualities often take the place of 
beauty, and have even greater power to seduce.. 
Homeliness, besides, has an advantage over 
beauty that no one will deny; for beauty, at the 
most, will last but a few years, and homeliness 
will last for ever. Homeliness, moreover, does j 
not inspire love at first sight; and, consequently, 0 
tlie woman w ho possesses t Ids blessing need have ^ 
no fear of being upproaehed by strange admirers j 
with evil intentions, and her husband need feel t 
none of the uneasiness and unhappiness caused e 
by jealousy; for a fortress that no one cares to v 
attack needs no defenders. The Romans had a 0 
maxim which is very pertinent here. We give t 
it in the original. “ Casta quam nemo rogavil. ” 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
REPLY TO THE AUTHOR OF “TOO GOOD 
TO WORK.” 
BT “ONE or ’EM." * 
• - 
Sat, what d'ye mean by 'Hackin' loafers ? 
Let 'em alone, I tell yir now: 
It's better to lie upon ens-hioned sofers 
Than work all day, I gaess you’ll allow. 
If every feller was good and pooty. 
How would yor. know when a chap was bad? 
Git. and git oat with yor.r fudge of “ duty, ” 
Enough of that, and to spare, we've had. 
What's the effect of a loafer's laz'ness, 
Think ye. compared to a nuisance press? 
Pokin' noses in other folk's bus'nass— 
We're got the best of it there. I guess. 
Look at. the newspaper quarrels, darn ye, 
Prickin' them forward instead of news; ■ 
Speakin’ of matters that don't concam ye, 
Ever paradin' “ 8m Oracle views. 
Gettin' ones' bread by the “ sweat of labor;” 
Good for you to be knockin' at us; 
Where's the example, my wordy neighbor? 
Inky, humbnggin', scribblin' cuss! 
Up in ylr editen room so cosy— 
Yours ain't mnch of a “ sweatin’" lot. 
Smokin' ylr pipe like a lazy josey.— 
“Sweatin',’' bygtta) !-wbcn yir room’s too hot. 
One day I was up in yir nice old sanctum ; 
Books and papers all round; and more, 
Picture and busts, where Wekstek’S rank'd em, 
Look’d down on a right nice carpet floor. 
Seems as if I had a paper to edit, 
’Way up In the " L’ulon " buiidln' there, 
Ev'n I might contrive to gain some credit; 
Who knows but at last I might beat the Mat’k ? 
But, I say, it ain’t ’cause a feller’s lazy, 
He takes to loafln 'stead of a trade; 
To work as we do would drive ye crazy, 
I mean we chaps of the “smarter" grade. 
It aint so easy the cards to shove, or. 
Knock whole days with the billiard cue, 
And every night when the gamblin’e over, 
Help in a burglar scrape or two. 
It’s all very well to lie nice and moral. 
When a l'eller gets in in an easy way; 
But rayUur difficult, Mr. “Rural,” 
When one’s disinclined to “ sweat” all day. 
But slather away with your pen, old feller! 
What does yir scribblin' prove to me ? 
Only this, and no more, I tell yir. 
Gentlemen differ, that's all, you see. 
Wyoming. N. Y. 
* Our poetical frit-nd. who is decidedly one of the 
“smarter grade,'’ seems to bold us responsible for 
the sentiments in the article "Too good to Work.” 
contributed by G. W. I’. He thereupon indulges in 
considerable levity over the character of our profess¬ 
ion as Indicated by that nrticlc. 
Wo trust our readers will have the charity to believe 
that we are not uuwortbv of anv compliment which 
our friend's verses contain, or that the presumption 
that we and “R. W. P." are one implies; nnd also 
that any seeming defamation of our character Is mere 
irony.—E» itoi;. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
THE WORLD OF CHARLES DICKENS. 
BY OLOFFE VON KORTLANDT. 
FEMININE TOPICS. 
» 
“ Beauty,” says Lord Kames, “is a danger¬ 
ous property, tending to corrupt the mind of a 
v. ife, though it soon loses it* influence over the 
husband. A figure, agreeable and engaging, 
which inspires a fleet ion without the ebricly of 
love, Is a much safer choice. The graces do 
not lose their influence like beantv. At the end 
About two years 6ince a scries of urticles was 
published in the London “ All the Year Round,” 
and thence transferred to the pages of Harper’s 
Weekly, under the title of “ The Occasional 
Journeys of an Uncommercial Traveler. By 
Ch a links Dickens.” They were pleasant little 
essays' descriptive of jauntings here and there, 
of places and people, alt hough, from the numer¬ 
ous local allusions, more especially interesting 
to the English reader. 
The name of their author, synonymous with 
that of the greatest living novelist, like the mot¬ 
to which for ten years greeted the people at the 
head of liis “Weekly Journal," has-been in 
truth familiar as houshold words, from the time 
when, ever so long ago, the public, fairly taken 
by storm, rushed in crowds to see Ids little pup¬ 
pet show, to which, in tho diffidence of a first 
authorship they had boon humbly invited. 
Aud iu the way the Uncommercial Traveler 
the few months ago made liis excursions into 
of thirty, forty, nay fifty years, a virtuous woman little corners of Gon’s beautiful world, dowc, 
who makes an agreeable wife charms her hus- humble in our turn before the grandness of gen iuc 
band more than at first. The comparison of and intellect—throwing off all the cares of life 
love to lire holds good in one respect—that the and business—Hinging ourselves into the drift,- 
fiercer it burns the sooner it is extinguished,” ingneas of quiet enjoyment,—wander through 
Among the many old customs which distin- the world of Charles Dickens. 
guish the Chinese of Java is one which would This realm of his imagination is very like the 
startle the young ladies of America. Beneath oaeour materialism moves and breathes in,and yet 
the wiridows of their houses is often to be seen different after all. The Nature is just the same 
an empty flower pot, “ lying horizontally on the in its grand outlines. A common mind can sec 
portico roof.” Its position cannot he accidental, no ot herwise: it is the anist-intcllcet that detects 
because It. Is seen is so many cases. Nor can under the hidden foliage the beauty of the trifles 
it be looked upon as a religious symbol, for then that contribute to filin g up the great pictured 
there would probably be one on each house. It whole. Wherein it differs, truly our own opin- 
is nothing more nor less than a matrimonial ad- ions might differ, exactly as in relation to two 
vertlsement, the plain English of which is;—“A masterpieces of the same hand or brain. The 
young ludy is iu the house, nushand wanted!” thought Ms occurred to me, since I commenced 
A young lady of Williamsburg, who won a writing this, that I am talking on a subject that 
prize last winter as the handsomest lady present may seem to some too familiar—something to 
at a certain entertainment or fair, was married be passed by with a “ O, we know all about him." 
the other day. The rush of people to sw; the Granted. But do we ever tire of the picture 
interesting ceremony,performed was very Areat, that has looked at us from our own walls since 
and two or three hours before the appointed we proudly hung it there when we first claimed 
time the street was completely blocked up, its ownership? Do we ever tire of the beauty 
Upon opening the church, the crowd rushed which has made life gladsome and fragrant,though 
in, climbing over the tops of the pews aud in it be now only a memory? Do we ever tire 
at the windows, to the great injury - of the cushj of the olden stories that have sent ns to sleep 
ions and hymn books. The happy couple and with tho tears of pity on our childish cheeks, 
the clergyman managed to get inside, but most or the fire of admiration h our eyes ? Perhaps so, 
of the invited guests were crowded out. Perhaps we may tire of him who has woven our 
A beautiful girl stepped into a shop to buy a l^guage into so many of his own exquisite 
pair of ruits. “ now much arc they ?" “ Why,” beauty who touches ns so deeply, and 
said the gallant but impudent clerk, lost in gazing y e * Wltil Ulc teudernc&s'of a triend. 
upon her sparkling eyes aud ruby lips. “ you We are continually finling ways which lead to 
shall have them for a kiss.” “ Agreed,” said the new delights in this world of Dickens. There 
young lady, pocketing the mite, while her eyes are sometimes what seem to ns defects in Its na- 
spoke daggers^ “ and as I sec you give credit ture,—omissions or commissions,—but then ill 
here, charge it, and collect it if you can.” does it become pigmies too sharply to criticise 
w X) 
iuja 
giants,—and rather hard it is, after making free 
with a man's pleasure grounds, when thrown 
open to the public, to abuse him because of a 
thorn that through some deviation of our own, 
gets stuck in our side. So we. wander through 
> his glorious country, now laughing with the gen¬ 
ial Pickwick, now mingling our tears with those 
of Copperfield, mourning for his child-wife. 
We sympathise intensely with the so-Iong-unfor- 
tunate Micawbf.r, —then loiter along the shore 
where Paul and Florence sit listening to the 
voices of the waves, as they sullenly break on the 
strand, forever singing their own eternity. Andas 
the divine-hearted Carton stands there on the 
scaffold, with his last words comforting his trem¬ 
bling sister,—“the two children of the universal 
mother, met together on the broad highway to 
repair homeland rest home in her bosom,”—we, 
too, hear the solemn echoing—“ I am the Resur- 
rection and the Life.” And then we are “in 
at. tho death,” where “ burled wine gr^ws older, 
as the Madeira did iu its time, and dust and 
cobwebs thicken around the bottles,” and stand 
by, all of us, for the full chorus to Captain 
Cuttle’s “Lovely Peg.” 
This genial Christmas-time, two years ago, 
was saddened by the death of a brave, true, hon¬ 
est gent leman, whose affectionate nature, cheerful 
companionship, large heart and open hand, sim¬ 
ple courteousness and endearing frankness had 
made Thackeray so beloved. It vr&s fitting 
that his great colleague should pay the tender 
tribute he did to the “ brilliancy of *ii trained 
intellect, the, terrible strength of a satire, the 
subtlety of a wit, the richness of a humor, the 
catholic range of a calm wisdom,” so long tho 
characteristics—not of a rival, but of an author- 
brother. 
Ah, when (God grant there be many year’s be¬ 
fore!) the music of other rippling stories shall 
have ceased forever, and nothing be left but a 
thirsty land, watered so long by the genius of 
Charles Dickens, always running over with 
! such kindliness for poor humanity, may the 
bright memory in the hearts of many who love 
him, be as tender—as the summer grass over his 
grave. For how couid he help winning us 
wholly—to say nothing of the sympathetic hearts 
of our children,—with such simple, quiet stories 
as the “ Chiracs " and the “ Cricket ?” And we do 
not feel ashamed because our eyes have been so 
suspiciously moist when wc have read them. It is 
a faculty of divinity, this speaking to our inner 
selves. Not mere sentimental nonsense, as the 
cold critic will say—one finds too much to 
make him feel kinder-hearted, more trust in the 
charity that, sutferetb long, is kind, and thlnketh 
no evil,—less hard, less cynical, less faithless in 
the great mission of good. 
- For a Christmas Story this season, he has given 
“ Our Mutual Friend.” Wc had thought that he 
was growing a little seemingly harassed—a little 
hurried,—but here he is like the old story-teller 
as wc listen. There is lews of the surface and 
more of the heart, and over the window-panes 
of his listeners’ appreciation, he frosts the most 
beautiful images, and one can hardly breathe on 
them, for they seem lasting only till the world’s 
fierce fever beat* against them. And we almost 
forget that the great author might change, as 
well as we, and his world get wintry and chill, 
sometimes, like oure. 
So, kind friends, wc have begun a new year— 
giving to each other and the world of mankind 
the cordial greetings of the season. And perhaps 
we may not read anything theac genial days that 
will afford us much more profit or pleasure than 
“Our Mutual Friend.” 
BEAUTIFUL EXTRACT. 
The loved ones whose loss I lament are still in 
existence; they are living with me at this very 
time; they aru like myself, dwelling in the great 
parental mansion of God; they still belong to 
me as I to them. As they are ever iu my 
thoughts, so, perhaps atu I in theirs. As I 
mourn for their loss, perhaps they rejoice in an¬ 
ticipation of our re-uuion. What to me is still 
dark, they see clearly. Why do 1 grieve because 
I can no longer enjoy their pleasant society? 
During their lifetime I was not discontented be¬ 
cause I could not always have them around me. 
If a journey took them from me, I was not there¬ 
fore unhappy. And why is it different now? 
They have gone on a journey. Whether they are 
living ou earth in a far distant city, or iu some 
higher world in the infinite universe of God, 
wluit difference is there ? Are u - e not still iu the 
same house of the Father, like loving brothers 
who inhabit separate rooms ? Have we therefore 
ceased to be brothers i—Itowan. 
REST. 
The following lines were found under the pillow of 
a soldier who was lying dead in a hospital near Port 
Royal, South Carolina: 
I lat me down to sleep. 
With little tho’t or care 
Whether my w aking find 
Me here, or there. 
I am not eager, bold. 
Nor strong —all that is 
I'm ready not to do [past; 
At last, at last. 
A bowing, burdened head. My half day’s work is done 
That only asks to rest. And this is all my part; 
Unquestioning, upon I give a patient God 
A loving breast. My patient heart. 
My good right hand forgets And grasp his banner still, 
Tts cunning now— Tho' all its blue be dim; 
To march the weary march These stripes, no lees than 
I know not how. Lead after Him. [stars, 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
“BLESSED ARE THE PURE IN HEART, FOR 
THEY SHALL SEE GOD.” 
BY L. JtCG.. 
To be pure in heart is something more than 
to be free from the taint of sin. The idea of 
purity natural to our minds is the absence of 
everything which could produce impurity. It is 
a negative idea. Bat this figure of speech when 
applied to the heart contemplates, not only the 
absence of impurity, but tho presence of a puri¬ 
fying principle—in the Christian heart it is faith 
in CHRIST and knowledge of, and obedience to, 
tho will of God. If a Christian were perfectly 
pure in heart, he would not only have no sin, 
but he would have complete faith in God, and 
would entirely know, and perfectly obey, God’s 
will as it applied to him. In the matter of purity 
then it Is easy for us to see that one person dif¬ 
fers from another, and the some person is more 
or less pure in heart as he is free from sin aud is 
possessed of the spirit of Crrist. 
In this benediction wc think our Saviour . 
refers to our seeing God In His dealings with us. 
We think lie says, in effect the pure in heart 
shall recognize the providence of God whenever 
and wherever it is exercised toward them. It is 
but too evident that wc often fail to see the 
hand of God in the blessings we receive from 
Him; and how frequently do wc complain at 
our suffering because we do not understand that 
God inflicts it — and that for our own good. The 
pure In heart practically, as well as theoretically, 
believe that “ all thiugs work together for good 
to them who love God.” This is because they 
“see God” in all those things vffiich affect 
themselves or Christ’s people. AS we differ in 
respect to purity of heart., so we differ in the 
dearness and broadness of our views of God’s 
dealings with ns. We “see through a glass 
darkly ” because of the impurity of our hearts. 
From this we infer that the clearness and 
scope of our spiritual vision are determined by 
the purity of our hearts. The unredeemed are 
absolutely impure in heart in the sight of God,— 
where the Christian sees God, they see Fate. The 
Providence they contemplate Ls the blind, merci¬ 
less and uncertain results of chance. They trust 
in an abstraction without wisdom, power or 
principle. The pure in heart see the design and 
wisdom of a merciful and all-powerful being. 
To attain to purity of heart is the highest, aim in 
the Christian life. Perfection in this respect is 
the complete preparation for the life to come. 
We acquire this purity by every means of grace. 
Our growth in grace and in purity of heart con¬ 
sists in the elimination of sin (the cause of im¬ 
purity) from our hearts, nnd the ingraftment of 
faith, hope and love into them. Wc may learn 
a practical lesson from these truths in the exami¬ 
nations of our own hearts. If we are conscious 
of His presence and see His hand in our expe¬ 
rience ; if in the hour of temptation we fed that 
Christ permits us to be tempted to destroy the 
trust we are reposing in our own strength and 
drive us by repeated failures and suffering to 
faith in Him alone; if wc find in our hearts the 
desire only to obey His M ill, and the disposition 
to ascribe all the glory and all the praise, unal¬ 
loyed M - ith selfish ambition or pride, to Christ 
our Lord and Master, then we may thank God 
that M’e are pure in heart But if we come short 
of these we are still imperfect and our prepara¬ 
tion for the life in heaven is yet unfinished. VTe 
shall never iu this life cease to need this prepa¬ 
ration. Wc may never safely cease striving to be 
pure iu heart. For now our purity of heart is 
partial, and it M ill only be entire when M - e shall 
see God “face to face.” 
Funny yet Beautiful.— A peculiar genius 
furnishes the following poetic conceit;—Insects 
must generally lead a jovial life. Think what it 
must be to lodge in a lily! Imagine a palace of 
ivory and pearl, with pillars of silver aud capi¬ 
tals of gold, ail exhaling such a perfume as never 
arose from a human censer! Fancy again the 
l’un of tucking yourself up for the night iu the 
folds of u rose, rocked to sleep by the gentle 
sighs of summer air, and nothing to do when 
you wake but to wash yourself in a deM'drop and 
fall to and eat your bed clothes. 
Literature is mostly the result of privation 
—of a confusion of spheres. Surround every 
genius with the audience most sympathetic w itk 
him, aud he would never seclade himself to 
write, but would pour forth his thoughts iu 
“winged words” alone; Now, however, find- 
The Church a Wondeb. —The existence of 
the church in this wicked M'orld is one of the 
wonders of Providenee. It is a vessel living in 
a tempestuous sea—a bush on fire, but not con- 
■sumed. If M-e l fleet on the enmity of the 
wicked against tae righteous—their great supe¬ 
riority iu numbers over them—the attempts that 
have been made to exterm unite them—the fre¬ 
quent diminution of their numbers by defection 
and death—their existence, and. especially their 
increase, must be M'onderful, and cannot othcr- 
’ wise be accounted for but that Christ liveth.— 
Fuller- 
The Gospel proposes to make men happy only 
by making them holy. How absurdly they act 
who seek enjoyment in sin, when but for sin 
there would be nothing but enjoyment. 
Livisg without Reflection.— When a man 
ing himself iu solitude, the only way to reach paBge8 a day without reflection, he may well ex- 
liis audience, “fit though few,” and scattered 
through the ages, is by letters. 
Think what danger y°fi escape when you 
escape great prosperity. Gold is often a hardene 
of the heart. Promotion often dazzles the brain. 
■Wealth has made millions poor for eternity. 
“Ah, David,” said Dr. Johnson to Garrick, 
M'hcn he showed him his superb drawing rooms, 
“Ah! David, these are the things that make 
death beds terrible.” 
claim at night, “I fear that I have done some¬ 
thing wrong.” 
Appearance.—A contemplative life has more 
the appearance of a life of piety than any other; 
but it is the divine plan to bring faith into activ¬ 
ity and exercise. 
The Will of God. —God sometimes calls us 
to stand still, when we are most anxious to pro¬ 
ceed; this is mortifying, but we generally find it 
is to see his salvation. 
