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MOORE’S EXJEjSlL EEW-YOREER. 
HjS SO* 
For Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
A PRETTY SERMON IN RHYME. 
[This sweet little sermon for every day life, was 
originally published in the Sunday Dispatch and 
written by Miss Matilda Burton. We think it 
should be placed in company with the lines recently 
published in the Rural, entitled “The world would 
be the better for It.“—A., June, lRGfl.] 
“ And be yn kind one to another, tomlei-hearted, for- 
riving one another, even ns (jod for Christ’* aalre hath 
lorglven you-" 
Barth, fiiongh a lovely place, 
Teems with dark care; 
Clasping each other come* 
Death and despair; 
Sorrow* on ev'ry aide 
Frowning we And; 
Snd heart* need sympathy— 
Let ns be kind. 
Love, like the enn, can gild » 
All things bolow; 
E'en tinge with golden light 
Trouble and woe. 
Few In this world of change 
Ever And much; 
Some souls ne'er felt its warmth— 
Gop pity such 1 
Hopeless and heart-broken, 
Living ’mid gloom, 
Many arc toiling on 
Down to the tomb; 
Others arc wandering 
Morally blind ■ 
Would we do good on earth > 
Let us be kind 1 
What over wealth and fame 
Soars far above ? i 
Wlmt i* more sweet on earth f i 
Friendship and Love! e 
Who arc more beautiful 1 < 
Who most refined? 
Those who can pass through life 
Truthful and kind! 
Goa alone knows what pain t 
Some hearts endure; 
How they need eyinpathy, * 
Tender and pure. 1 
We oft in thoughtlessness ^ 
Grief round them wind; h 
Ob! when we can, to all t 
Lot us be kind. d 
----—-- 1, 
For Moore’* Rural New-Yorker. e 
WOMAN’S EQUALITY WITH MAN. 1< 
Mr. Editor -I shall insist upon it that you ^ 
arc a bachelor in sympathy, if not in practice, 
unless you immediately hoist the true Union j, 
motto— Equality. 
Men and women seem to have been created 
equal. In Hi* image created He them, maleaud aj 
female. Has it not been woman's physical 41 
order for women to act intelligently and till 
positions of trust and honor, she must spend 
her time in the streets, at clubs and bar-rooms; 
be herself a slattern, her childreu squalid, her 
husband henpecked.” Then ambition Is dan¬ 
gerous—knowledge and Intelligence are danger¬ 
ous. All will admit that the rearing of children, 
and quiet domestic duties, ure the great qualifi¬ 
cations of women ; but must a woman be aman, 
or cease to be womanly, because she has equal 
rights and privileges ? If laws could lift the 
woman to a level with the man, then would 
fathers, mothers, sons and daughters have one 
common Interest., one commou sympathy, and 
husband* and Sons would not seek away from 
home congenial society. 
A hundred years ago bnt few thought it 
necessary for women to understand more than 
the rudiment* of science. If she knew enough 
of grammar to be understood in the family cir¬ 
cle, enough of chemistry to attend to her kitchen 
du ties, enough of geography to find her way to 
church, it was all that was necessary. But a 
brighter day is dawning. All that Is needed is 
to let In the sunlight. Open to her as to her 
brother, equal rights, and equal results fol¬ 
low. Mary N. Pinckney. 
South Onondaga, N. Y. 
ENGLISH AUTHORESSES. 
Choice fpscellatig. 
M. D. Conway, in his London correspond¬ 
ence with the Round Table, gives us these pleas¬ 
ant portraits of a few familiar authoresses of 
E ngland: 
George Eliot is a finely shaped woman, and 
quite large, though not in the sense in which 
Hawthorne describes English female largeness. 
She is by no means corpulent, nor are there any 
suggestions of steaks and sirloins about her; but 
Bhe is ot largo skeleton. She is not meager ci¬ 
ther, hut has the look of being made out of fine 
clay. Bhe is blonde, with very light auburn 
hair, clear, serene, smiling eyes, beautiful teeth. 
She has also gracious and easy manners, with an 
undellnablo air of nu worldliness—of having been 
made for large aud fine societies, but never en¬ 
tered them. In a word, she is a woman who, 
though not handsome, would personally satisfy 
her most ardent admirers, In remarkable con¬ 
trast in every way to Guorge Eliot U Miss Brad- 
don, the great sensational novelist. Mixed of 
lower clay, the exact embodiment of the south¬ 
ern phrase “commony,” with a color which 
looks like rouge but is not, she is really lude- 
ecribablc here, but tny reader may see her any¬ 
where along Broadway at any time of the day. 
Miss Frances Power Cobbe is huge. The first 
impression she mokes is that of a great mass of 
merry flesh and blood, weighing nearly b50 
pound*. She too often has to walk about on 
POETRY OF LABOR. 
Toil swings the ax, aud forests bow; 
The seeds break out. 10 radiant bloom. 
Rich harvests smile behind the plow, 
And cities cluster foetid the loom; 
Where towering dome* and tapering spires 
Adorn the vale and crown the hill, 
Stout Labor light* its beacon Are*, 
And plumes with smoke the forge aud mill. 
Tim monarch oak, the woodland’s pride, 
Whose trunk i* seamed with lightning scars, 
Toll launches on the restie** tide, 
And there unrolls the flag of stars; 
The engine, with it* longs of flame, 
And ribs of brass and joints of steel, 
From Labor’s plastic fingers came. 
With sobbing valve and whirling wheel. 
’Tis labor work* the magic pres*, 
And turns the crank In hive# of toil, 
And beckons angels down to bias# 
Industrious hands on »ca and soil. 
Here sun-browned Toil, with shining spade, 
Links lake to lake, with silver ties 
Strung thick with palace* of trade, • 
And temples towering to the skies. 
- —— - * ■« ■ ■ - 
Written lor Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
“MONEY TO LOAN.” 
female. Has l7notb7e7 ZZX p=tl T*™' ^ * iVC6 ,° ne * 6 * d 
weakness that has given birth W the strenge ( eU0,moU6 elze iefarfrom being the result 
hallucination that women are inferior U mcnlu ’ ° r accom ^ an ^ by, health. But when one 
mental capacity -and, as with heathen coun- chwT " , m ^ ^^ ^ 
tries, so with professed Christiana “Xht eristic of her face and expression 
maks right,” and we are abiding by’tha“Se ® T * about 
to-day. Are women found backward in the caUs T ’ * P erce P«™* cs * blended with 
of conscience, In the suppression of evil in the * b ° Ut bereyC ’ a sensitiveness and sen- 
promotlon of right ? -and i* it it uTJ&T, under which-as conver- 
cvery true woman, “Lord, what wilt thou have it acquaintance go on — the corpulency 
mo to do?” The history of MikluT alone 8CemMo shrLuk ’ and Uie most charming pbysi- 
wou!d forever put to alnToL^Z wo^n ^ unsheathed. Miss Cobbe bason 
must only he pitied and T xU<d. The Queen of n ^h T^ 0 ?, conversation, is one of 
Sheba was a patient searcher after wisdom and f ^ wLerevcr ehe a PP eare 
I think her example ought long since “h^ hJ aboitt her a group of fascinated young peo- 
quietod the fears and made L obnoxious own six- by whose 
woman’s capacity for governing and oceup 3 * “T™ T* °“ ”*** 
l’**™ <" l»«r. Th, S SS the authoress of “Intuitive 
rrri 1 —— - 
Tllt . . “• ueeucunnnea 10 tne Craig, editor of the Argosy, leading secretary 
Bible. Austria will confirm our position In 1 ..t J! , , * J . 8 
Mar,A Tiumesa, who was at trace the . lit n„‘“l ' * to * IlttoMy 
mut, the mother ttc dcoicci, P “ 10 . E " Kla " <1 “J“J. on t "“t otic 
r , .... . , , J* voice—a 6KIU- might imagine, and which is much more the 
aff L 1 f Ala’,” ', U V d tme ,0 nUc, ‘ a to tho rc»ul( of Iter personal -attractiveness than ofum 
aff.tr. of State and briog her l.wtand total. 0 f her pobHahed worts. She i, „ot pretty, h 
< mdrui t oee» (.AT,, a rise of Russia was a aometiilng of a German, has a nez ret,ousses £ 
thorough pou fart Queen Eh,EAT,™ led in not blooming; but she 1. yo^gll“ 
, uieaBurea an ^ peaecujeasures, and sustained childlike expression, ,.u eye full of delicate and 
the Irotesurnl religion throujthout Great Britain r o,i„ e d fcello ? , and a gentie voice that every ouc 
aud Europe; she used always survey her like, to hoar.TShe too M of L ferthSaTf 
“* aoraGbaok, and dually defeated the culture, and of a talcut verging on genius, whom 
Uou h, rt^'d Prcp ““- 1 •“« — *>«** theLdves morn’to Z 
Tire man or woman is mud who maintain. 7?* ^ 
^ x“ “ dmlre 
The man or woman is mad who maintain* , , T „ * \ W Wmcfl WU 
you find truer heroism than in the Spartan 
Mother, who Insisted upon her sons returning 
with their victims or returning upon their 
shields. Joan of Arc, when the fortunes of 
war seemed to be against her country, took the 
lead of the army, inspired them with courage 
and defeated the enemy. Later still Florencx 
Nightingale showed herself every wap uh- 
wQinanljj, although doing a great amount of 
good and tilling a position no one else could 
MARRIED LIFE. 
The following beautiful and truthful senti¬ 
ments are from the pen of that charming writer, 
the late Frodrica Breuier, whoso observations 
might well become rules of life, so appropriate 
are they to many of its phasesDeceivenot one 
another in small things nor In great. One little 
fill. Lord Macaulay says a countrywoman of single lie has, before now, disturbed a whole 
ni* was equal to Buarspxare. Tennyson says, married life, a small cause has often great conse- 
1 in tr are thousands more of such women, quences. Fold not the arms together and sit 
but custom beats them down,” and a woman is idle- “Laziness is the devil’s cushion.” Do 
a blue-f- locking and dreaded as some wild beast not run much from home. One’s own hearth is 
who has not graduated in simpers and meaning- worth more than gold. Many a marriage, my 
ess smiles. friends, begins like the rosy morning, and then 
V e ave oar owu stars, whoso magnitude is falls away like a enow wreath. And why, my 
no exec e , and we m e rightfully proud of our friends ? Because the married pair neglect to be 
own arkibt Bercubr Stowb, Graci Green- as pleasing to each other after marriage as be- 
wooi>, anna Dickinson, and other*. Neither fore. Endeavor always, my children, to please 
au. it women uitho nineteenth century con-, one another; but at tb« samu time keep God. in 
,i UC . !V bC ua fll ” UL 3Mnit show, whereever your thoughts. Lavish not all your love on to- 
4 -!' ' C ?, r rUStc ’kossaasion of execu- day, for remember that marriage has its to-mor- 
n t a 1 >■ onien hare also proved success- row likewise, and its day after to-morrow, too. 
u mere tutors, school teachers and phy- Spare, as one may say, fuel for the winter. Cou- 
! Ueuced the 6ider ' my daughter, what the word wife express- 
WOOD, Anna Dickinson, and other*. Neither fore. Endeavor always, my children, to please 
ait c women uitiio nineteenth century con-, one another; but at the samu time keep God in 
, iiu _ 0 Ul ' bC ua a show, whereever your thoughts. Lavish not all your love on to- 
4 -!' P ?t- rustc 1 Possession of execu* day, for remember that marriage has its to-mor- 
‘‘ 1 ,v ' ° n)en proved success- row likewise, aud its day after to-morrow, too. 
u muc ja “ e ‘tors, schoolteachers and phy- Spare, as one may say, fuel for the winter. Cou- 
4 i an <-- C wt ly J F,ilenc °d the eider, my daughter, what the word wife express- 
, . ° bI 101 “ ri *’ discharge of es. The married woman is the husband’s 
f. UllC , S ‘ u0t truc wc>meD pressed forward by domestic faith; in her hand he must be 
the plentif^ness of the harvest and the scarcity able to entrust the key of his heart, as 
o laborers, if in her onward march she neglect* well as the key of bis larder. His honor and 
J * U Ks . 110w r ' f 1 u ' me a,| d hastens the dawu bis home are under her keeping—his well-being 
srn« f e <i wf ’ in ^ er tkod. Think of this! And you, sons, be 
Some say Where would bo our quiet, peace- faithful husbands, aud good fathers of families, 
fal homes if women took this position ? If, ia Act so that your wivesslavl! esteem and love you. 
“Mojito ages taken on good, unencumbered real 
estate at one-third its valuation, for a term of three 
years, and not to exceed live.” 
Yes! of course yon have money to loan on 
c “ such security as this, and wc rather think for a 
® 8, longer period than five years, especially when 
u y you have two disinterested men visit the said 
ut real estate, and then testify as to It* valuation 
L>i ' and what it would probably sell for under the 
06 hammer. Searching the records in the County 
I ’ 1 Clerk’s Office, and finding no prior claim, yon 
*' are ready to execute the papers. A very nice 
au arrangement, all this; very safe—very sure; and 
en w hen the papers are ready for signature, and the 
u * needy applicant signs them with a trembling 
°> hand, and yon receive the very modest fee of one 
*y per cent, for each year as compensation for your 
B ' trouble, and doing the business in so satisfactory 
d ' a manner, you could not well help saying as you 
did — “ A good thing.” 
But who loan* money and who borrows ? In- 
e side the office on which this notice is posted a 
company of men Rnrround a desk behind which 
y Is our “Agent” and his “Money to Loam” 
st Huge piles of National and Greenbacks are 
’j, corded up, while a clerk is busy counting and 
.0 adding to the piles before them. Our “ Agent ’’ 
' n is master of his situation. He is guarded at 
it every point- Shrewdness is stamped on every 
lineament of his features. There is no sympa- 
c thy in his cold, gray eye,—no hope for the debtor 
C ’ who has failed to meet bis obligations. He has 
,J lila rules and follows them. He does not vary 
B from hU terms. 
h Most of the company are paying interest on 
1 bonds; a few asking an extension of time—some 
I' taking up the papers which are due,— while one 
has failed to meet Mb payments entirely. It is 
■’ curious to scan the faces of those in waiting. 
With some, fortune had seemed to deal kindly; 
“ with others care, anxiety, deprivation, with 
many a rough day’s work, had left their 
traces — to show how those dollars had been 
earned. Hard hands and brouzed faces, yet 
' manliness in every feature. A short, thick set 
’ man, with a broad, good-humored face, a quick, 
firm step, promptness and decision in every 
movement, awaits. 
1 “My obligation is due, I think.” 
T “Did you wish to pay the face of your ■ 
, mortgage?” L 
’ “ YeB, sir! ” 1 
“One thousand and seventy dollars, principal j 
and interest,—besides I charge you one dollar i 
for a satisfaction piece.” , 
“There is the amount; and, by the way, I , 
have a bill against you.” , 
“Ah ! bow does that happen ? ” L 
“Last year I sent you, by draft, seventy-one < 
dollars and sixty-four cents. You acknowledged L 
the receipt of the money, but gave me credit for \ 
only seventy dollars; and if you wish more fl 
proof, here is a paper I received'this morning t 
from the cashier of the bank where the draft t 
was drawn. From this you 6 ee [that amount ( 
was sent to your order.” j. 
The proof was direct, the balance forthcoming, t 
“ What are your terms for extending the time u 
of payment of my mortgage for five years ? ” p 
The papers are examined the security is I v 
gilt - edged. 
“ My terms are five per cent., or one per cent, 
for each year. Pay me one hundred and twelve 
dollars and fifty cents, andJI will extend the 
time of payment five'years.’’ Argument is use- y 
les 6 . “ We have our terms, and see no reaeon ei 
why we should vary from them.” The amount fc 
is counted out, passed to the clerk, and by the ai 
way of filliug up the time, onr “Agent” tells tl 
us that It Is “our business to loan money, and tl 
we wish to deal fairly and honorably with every ci 
one—in 6 nek a way that people will have con)]- at 
dence in us.” di 
We do not wait to see bow the delinquent gi 
debtor fares. In the hands of a “money loaner” in 
who is honorable in bis dealings, who is accorn- I sa 
modating in his disposition, and who has won de 
the confidence of community by his uprightness ch 
and integrity, we leave him. We leave him io ha 
the hands of Shylock — in the hands of one gr 
who would deliberately take one dollar and ab 
sixty-four cents from its rightful owner —and ne 
who counts it right and just to fill his coffers at a s 
at a sacrifice of eveiy principle of honor and iu: 
honesty. A, 
June, 1866. I 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
LIFE’S FOOTSTEPS. 
Summer verdure has come; a green carpet 
is spread over the land—the foliage has changed, ' 
giving a lively and beaut iful appearance. Violets 
and moss rosea are smiling gracefully—bnt there 
will be a change; day by day wc «ee it—year 
after year we realize It. The glorious tracery of I 
Nature remains, while days, years and cycles | 
will pass along, reminding us of perishable 
things. The waters rush down some beautiful 
cascade, and winds between some picturesque 
gorge, aud at last finds their resting place in some 
silvery lake, which sends forth reflected rays of 
the 6 un, thus doubly revealing the glories of that 
orl#. Luna still shows her bright farm in the 
heavens, “walking in brightness,” while Alde- 
baran with bis ruddy eye looks down with a 
degree of complacency. 
Tbns we sec the mirror of Nature. Man 
walk# on through life, trying to buffet the waves, 
day by day — inunth after month—year after 
year—tumbling along like the brook, over steep 
falls and cascades, winds through and among 
society—between the mountains of a lifetime — 
but it remains to be seen whether he will land, un¬ 
trammelled, in the beautiful atmosphere of Life. 
Door Creek, WU;, 1866. J. 8. B. 
- ■ » i *> ‘ .— . 
THE SMITH FAMILY. 
In the city directory of Philadelphia are the 
names of eleven hundred and eighty members 
of the Smith family. Of this number, sixty- 
two are John Smiths straight, and seventy-three 
are John Smith with a variation, that is, with 
other Initials. 
In the Now York city directory the names of 
one thousand seven hundred of the Smith family 
appear. Of this number one hundred aud 
twenty are John Smiths straight, and sixty-nine 
with a variation. Granting that the names of 
all the Smiths are to be found in the directory, 
and that, ail the Smiths go to the post-office for 
letters, and that letters were directed to “ John 
Smith, New York City,” the chances that each 
man will get his own would be but one iu one 
hundred and twenty-three. 
If a writ was placed in the band of a police 
offieer with no other direction than to arroet 
John Smith, he might arre<t one hundred und 
twenty-two before be should got the right one, 
and In doing so might be compelled to travel 
five hundred miles. At last Smith is brought 
[ into Court, found guilty, and fined, imprisoned, 
or otherwise punished. The obloquy is divided, 
of course, among tbe whole number. One hun¬ 
dred and twenty-three men blush at. the misdeeds 
of one. John Smith’s house Is burned or rob¬ 
bed, and, one hundred and twenty-three men 
are sure to deceive the condolence of their neigh¬ 
bors, over the disaster. 
A deed is made, conveying to John’Smitb 
valuable property. Who is the owner of it ? 
John Smith gets married ? Whose wife is Mrs. 
Smith? Disgusted with the plebeau sound of 
the name, John 8 inttb of New York, applies to 
tbe Legislature of the State to have It changed 
to Thompson. Which one of Qie John Smit^B 
has now become a “Thompson with a P?” 
When the highly respectable John Smith sees a 
newspaper notice to the effect that, In the recent 
terrible railroad accident, the highly respectable 
John Smith was killed! How does be know 
whether it was himself or somebody else ? 
JaMtaih |§|u8iittj|s. 
■Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
TWILIGHT. 
Softly now the rays of twilight, 
Flit around the closing day, 
Giving rest to weary Pilgrims 
Passing o’er Life’s rugged way. 
Some with care and sorrows troubled, 
In the world’s broad field of strife, 
Now are resting from their trials, 
At this quiet hour of life. 
Let all thoughts of worldly conflicts 
From our minds be laid aside, 
While upon this sea of pleasure, 
In some skiff we gently ride. 
Sweet it is when toil is ended, 
And tbe twilight hour i# come, 
To unite, in songs or gladness, 
To our father, three Iu one. 
O, how kindly ho has kept us 
From those dangers ever near; 
May we, In the nigat now o'er us, 
Be protected from all fear. 
And when ail the days of life-time 
All its tronlea shall have past, 
May we, in his arms extended 
Be received at home at last. 
c. H. n. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
THE OLD PASTOR. 
We look npon him reverently; we hear his 
words with solemn attention — for, enriched 
with the store ot wisdom, gathered by years of 
study devoted to tbe Holy Word, and from his 
owu eventful, checkered experience, be comes 
before the people and utters his message from 
the Lord of Mercy. 
When he tell* of the goodness of God; when 
be proclaims Him the God who remembers His 
saints to bless them—even the covenant-keeping 
God ; when be declares that iu six troubles He 
will not forsake, nor yet in the seventh; that He 
always delivers and provides a way of escape, 
and sutler* none of His children to be destroyed, 
though they be cast down,—he establishes his 
declarations by his own present, living realiza¬ 
tion of the help, support and care of his Heav¬ 
enly Father. To the irrofragible truth, and in¬ 
dubitable assnranco of the written Word, is 
superadded what he has personally proved of 
the All-lovingParcut, Helper, Friend; and from 
his lips we receive the cheering promise and the 
doctrine, whose “entrance givetb light,’’ as 
from a messenger specially commissioned and 
plenariiy endowed to pronounce the love which 
He who ait* in the glory of the skies has always 
had toward those who, out ol the cares and 
trials of the earthly probation, are at last to be 
removed, to shine in lustrous garments of the 
Redeemer’s merit before the Father’* throne. 
Walklns, N. Y., June, 1866. a. w. s. 
A PROFITABLE MISTAKE. 
s THE TWO VOICES. 
When Gutteuburg, the first printer, was work¬ 
ing in his cell in the monastery of St. Aborsgot, 
he tells us that he heard two voices address him. 
The one bade him desist; told him the power 
his invention would put in the hands of bad men 
to propagate their wickedness; told him how 
men would profane the art he had created, and 
how prosperity would have cause to curse the 
man who gave it to thu world. So impressed 
waa Guttenbnrg with what he heard, that be 
took a hammer, and broke to pieces tbe typfcs 
he had so laboriously put together. His work 
of destruction was only stayed by anotiiervoice, 
sweet and musical, that fell on bis ear, telling 
him to go on, and to rejoice iu hi* work; that 
all good might be made tbe cause of evil, but 
that God would bless the right in the end. So 
to all of ns still come thoBe voices that came to 
Guttenbnrg; tbe one calling us to work, while 
it is called to-day—to try to leave this world bet¬ 
ter than wc found it; and the other tempting 
us to give over and take our ease — to leave the 
plow in mid-furrow, and to rest on our oars 
when we should be pulling against the stream. 
POLITENESS IN BUSINESS. 
Politeness in business is a lar^e addition to 
your capital already invested. It keeps your 
customers in u good humor and gains new ones 
for you every day. It Is the charm that smooths 
and 6 ofteus the rough paths of business. It is 
the “ philosopher’s stone’’ which turns every¬ 
thing yon touch into gold. It invests commer¬ 
cial life with most of the poetry which ever 
adorns it. It makes men like you, and love to 
deal with you. It gains yon the kind words aud 
good offices of those with whom yon daily come 
iu contact. It has been humorously aud truly 
said by one that he preferred making his yearly 
dealings with a polite merchant who would 
cheat him a little , than with a rude, rongh, and 
habitual impolite one who would honest him a 
great deal! Honesty and honor are commend¬ 
able and shining qualities, it is true, but they 
never look better than when they are found in 
a setting of genuine politeness and good breed- 1 
lug. 1 
A word of kindness is seldom spoken in vain. 
It is a seed which, even when dropped by chauce, 
springs up a flower. 
There is something exquisite in our country¬ 
man’s reply to the European traveler, when he 
asked him whether he had just crossed the Alps: 
“ Wal, now you call my attention to the fact, I 
guess I did pass risin’ ground a spell ago.” 
i, One day as Felix Neff was walking in Lau¬ 
sanne, he saw, at a distance before him, a man 
t whom he took for one of hi* friends. He made 
up to him, tapped him on the shoulder, aud, 
before looking Ului in the face, asked him, 
“How does your soul prosper, my friend?” 
The strauger immediately turned round, and 
looked at him in surprise. Neff perceived his 
mistake, apologized, and went his way. About 
three or four years afterward, a person came to 
Neil', aud, introducing himself, said he was iu- 
* debted to him for bis inestimable kindness. 
* Neff' did not recognize the tnan, and begged 
1 that he would explain himself. The stranger 
1 replied: 
“ Have you forgotten a certain person whose 
* shoulder you once touched iu oue of the streets 
e of Lausanne, and whom you asked, ‘ How does 
1 your soul prosper?’ It was I. Your inquiry 
3 led me to Eerious reflection, and now I find it 
5 well with my soul.” 
c “ Lo, all these things workethGod oftentimes 
> with man, to bring back his soul from the pit, 
= to be enlightened with tbe light of the living.” 
1 (Job xxxiii. 21), JO. j 
-...- 
SIFTED WHEAT. 
1 
Gotthold one day looked on while a farm¬ 
er’s wheat was being thrashed, and observed 
that the men not only stoutly beat it, but trod 
upon it with their feet; aud finally, by various 
expedients, separated the good grain from the 
chaff, dust, and other impurities. How comes 
it, he asked, that whatever is of a useful nature, 
aud intended to be profitable to the world, must 
suffer much, aud be subject to every kind of ill- 
treatment: but fbat inau, who himself does with 
other things as be lists, is unwilling to suffer, or 
to permit God to deal as He lists with him ? 
Wheat, which is the noblest of all the products 
of tbe earth, is here thrashed, trud upon, swept 
to and fro, tossed into the air, sifted, shaken, 
aud shoveled, aud afterward ground, rc-sifted, 
aud baked, and so arrives at last upon the tables 
of princes and kings- What, then, do I mean in 
being displeased With God, becaase lie does not 
strew my path with rose-leaves or translate me 
to heaven in an easy chair ? By what other pro¬ 
cess could the wheat be cleansed? and bow’ 
eonld 1 be sanctified or saved, were I to remain 
a stranger to the eross and to affliction? 
“We trust the Lord is on our side, Mr. Lin¬ 
coln,” said the speaker of a delegation of Chris¬ 
tian men to that good man, duriDg one of the 
darkest days of the rebellion. i 
“ I do not regard that so essential as something , 
else,” replied Mr. Lincoln. ^ 
The pious visitors looked horror-struck until j 
the President added: ^ 
“ I am most concerned to know that we sre J 
on the Lord’s side.” h 
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