disc imi Dating judgmet and has at his heart the 
welfare of the young. There are very few young 
persons who have not such an acquaintance;—to 
the exceptional few who have not, or who are too 
modest to apply to them, I would more heartily 
commend the works of the standard writers of 
our own age of the world than those of the past, 
for it is with the present generation that you 
will have to do, and its standard authors, be as¬ 
sured, will give you the essence of what there is 
that is pure and beautiful in the literature of the 
past. You may ask, “ Who are these standard 
writers ?” Of those who, from design or from 
inherent goodness, write to benefit the world, 
we have that never failing genius, Mrs. Stowe ; 
the indefatigable Longfellow, I was about to 
say, but I recall a poem from his pen, entitled 
“ Weariness,” that is quite too vivid, not to 
have been wrought out of his own experience, 
and shall have to revoke the qualification or 
substitute the author: 
“ o little bands that, weals or strong, 
Have still to serve or rale so long, 
Have still so long to give or ask! 
I, who so much with book and pen 
Have tolled among my fellow men, 
Am weary thinking of your task.” 
Then there is humorous but venerable Saxe, 
the Cart sisters, Mrs. Dennison, Bayard Tay¬ 
lor, and the Quaker poet, Whittier. Prof. 
Agassis, If you are a lover of science, will charm 
yon. And on the other 6ide of the Atlantic wc 
have Tennyson and Browsing; and Ter per 
has written a Proverbial Philosophy, as all the 
wold knows, if he never writes worthily again. 
Yes, and Fredrika Bremer will charm you 
too. Dickens everybody reads and profess to 
admire. Miss Sewell, too, is a pleasant writer, 
—hut that will he sufficient for the present, for 
I would have yon read magazines somewhat, 
and the papers. Of the former, the “ Atlantic " 
is perhaps the most popular, but if you are quite 
a young person you will find it rather heavy. 
“ Our Yonng Folks” is not at all infantile. 
“ The Galaxy ” Is a new magazine, too frequntly 
copied by able editors to be common place or 
dangerous. “ LLttell’s Living Age ” is a woekly 
magazine made up entirely of transcripts which 
I like about as well as anything that is sent out 
of the literary atmosphere of Boston. Harper’s 
suggests itself, but a young lady of more taste 
than intellect, ( which is a pretty thing to say of 
a yonng lady,) will need Madam Drmokest or 
Godet too; the literary contributions of the 
former are more piquant, but Fkenk Leslie’s, as 
an artistic publication, I like much better than 
either. The Round Table Is the rara avis of pa¬ 
pers among a class. I like it better for its crit¬ 
iques, which may be more or less just. There 
are one or two pages of the New York Ledger 
that I dearly love to read. But above all, read 
the Rural New-Yorker and the leading ^news¬ 
paper of your county. M. E. 
story. She wonders if the days of such old 
ladies are passed, and longs for the soothing in¬ 
fluence of one such cheerful spirit, and to dis- 
cubs the deeper experience of mature years with 
one who would Understand it as would dear 
Aunt Katy. She has got so in the habit of be¬ 
ing care-laden, and hurried, that she sadly says 
to herself “ she has not time to be good.” But, 
as the image of Aunt Katy rises before her, the 
wish comes that she, too, might be kindly re¬ 
membered by some who are now young. The 
timely thought makes her fetch the baby out of 
hia new found seat in the onion bed, and help 
the older one out of an apple tree, where he 
had got caught, without feeling irritated that 
she had so many Bteps to take, and feel* thank¬ 
ful that she hafc even the memory of Bach a wo¬ 
man to think of. Bo far does the radiance of a 
good life extend. b. c. d. 
Elkhorn, WiB., 1860. 
Written for Moere’a Rural New-Yorker. 
WHAT IS IT TO DIET 
Written ior Moore’a Rural New-Torker, 
AMBITION. 
ROCK ME TO SLEEP 
[The subjoined poem—we do not know who wrote 
it—is one of the most beautiful of its hind we have 
over seen. We do not envy the heart that does not 
thrill to its wild and tender music.] 
Bacrwauu, turn backward, ob. Time in your flight, 
Make me a child again, just tor to-night: 
Mother, come back from the ocholeea shore. 
Take me again to your heart a? of yore— 
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care, 
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair 
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep- 
Rock me to eleep, mother—rock me to sleep. 
Backward, flow backward, oh, tide of years! 
I am so weary of toil* and tears— 
Toll without recompwwo -tears all in vain— 
Take me and give nie my childhood again! 
1 have grown weary of dust and decay, 
Weary of flinging my soul’i wealth away- 
Weary of sowing for others to reap; 
Rock me Bleep, mother-rock me to eleep I 
Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue, 
Mother, oh, mother, my heart call* for you! 
Many a enmmer the grass hae gTown green, 
Blosiomed and faded—oar faces between— 
Tet with strong yeamingB and passionate pain. 
Long I to-night for your presence again; 
Come from the alienee eo long and so deep— 
Rock me to Bleep, mother—rock me to Bleep. 
Over my heart In days that are flown, 
No love like inotbcr-love ever has shown— 
No other worship abides and endures, 
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours. 
None like a mother can charm away pain 
From tbe jftek eoul and world weary brain; 
Slumber's soft calm o’er my heavy lids creep- 
Rock me to sleep, mother-rock me to Bleep 1 
Come let yonr brown hair, Juet lighted with gold. 
Fall on your sboniders again aB of old— 
Let It fall over iny forehead to night, 
Shading my faint eycE away from the light— 
For with its ennny-edged shadows once more, 
Hap'ly trill throng tho sweet visions of yore, 
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep— 
Rock me to Bleep, mother—rock, me to sleep! 
Mother, dear mother! the years have been long 
Since I last hashed to your lullaby song— 
Sing them, and unto my soul It shall seem 
Womanhood's years have been but a dream ; 
Clasp to your arms in a loving embrace, 
With your light lashes just sweeping my face, 
Never hereafter to wake or to weep— 
Rock me to sleep, mother-rock me to Bleep. 
BY LBWTB DAYTON BURDICK, 
What is it to die, but going home 
To onr eternal rest,— 
Beyond these changeful scenes to roam, 
To scenes supremely blest ? 
To leave behind corroding care, 
And pains that torture eo; 
If earth is not as heaven tair, 
Why should we dread to ge f 
Why ahrink to leave this mortal clay 
Beneath its kindred sod,— 
To soar on angel wings away 
To dwell for aye with God ? 
To die is gain to all that know 
A holy Saviour's love,— 
’Tis but the wayside here below, 
; To, glorious courts above ; 
Where with our loved we all can rest, 
-From toll and trial free; 
Dear Lord, onr Saviour, O, how blest 
To die and be with thee l 
Holland Patent, N. Y. 
I often long 
For gift of song— 
To write my bumble name 
High in the arch of fame— 
For bounteous store 
Of neefnl lore— 
For eloquence of speech 
The hearts of men to reach— 
For greatness Blgh, 
And wonder why 
The heart is ever Btirred 
To grasp for things deferred. 
Why this desire 
For something higher— 
Not eatfsfled with fate 
That biads to present state ? 
Should not this life 
Be constant strife 
To make the living real 
Approach a jnstldeal? 
Content away t 
They He who say 
In thee is happiness,— 
In struggling is the bliss. 
Did God of love 
Who rales above 
E’er mean for ns to rest 
In struggling for the best? 
In sin and crime 
’Till end of time 
He surely never meant 
For ue to bo content. 
Ambition leads 
To noble deeds. 
Those moved by love of right- 
Not slaves to appetite— 
To burning passions, 
To foolish fashions— 
Not cringing after power,— 
When goodness rules the hour 
In every clime, 
O haste the time, 
When worthy aspiration 
Moves men in every station! 
Revive the beauty of bygone ages, and you 
will revive all the beauty and the ugliness of 
those days; for there must have been a good deal 
of u glin ess, otherwise the beauty would not 
have been so forcibly appreciated. Had there 
been more pretty girls in the days of Troy, 
Helen would have had few suitors, and Ilium 
might have been standing yet. What I mean to 
say is this: In those days people dressed bo that 
unless their feature* were almost perfect they 
were literally nothing. All tbe minor grace* 
which set off a mediocre person now were per¬ 
fectly unavailing under the system of costume. 
But imagine for a moment all your acquaint¬ 
ances dressed lu this way. Would not the ma¬ 
jority be frightful S’ How few faces and com¬ 
plexions would stand that binding back of the 
hair; how few forms could show to advantage 
beneath the simple robe, without stays or stiff 
petticoats; how few feet would be endurable in 
sandals; how few arms would bear the noon¬ 
day suns and the 6hnrp winds, which would soon 
tarn them to the pattern and form of a washer¬ 
woman's! 
Perhaps the old Jewish costume worn by Re¬ 
becca and Rachel may have been & shade better, 
but there was the same exposure of neck and 
arms, with the additional advantage of a robe 
that showed a leg encased in hideous hose and 
boots, and that refused to sweep with Grecian 
amplitude around the limbs of the fair wearer. 
Cleopatria, who is represented as being both 
dark and stout, could wear only the robes of 
white or purple, and the heavy diadem of strings 
of pearls which were allotted as tbe garb of 
Egyptian princesses. How dark and uncomely 
must have been the majority of her countymen. 
may be judged from the sensation she made. 
The Roman ladies were famed for their stately 
carriage and somewhat large, but noble fea¬ 
tures; and when to these charms they added 
regularity, delicacy and beautiful color, no 
doubt their simple, open, coquettish style of 
drees was very becoming to them; but without 
the latter qualification, how gaunt and coarse 
they must have appeared. 
THE MEASURELESS LOVE 
I can measure parental love—how broad, how 
long, and strong, and deep it is: it is a sea — a 
deep sea which mothers can only fathom. But 
the love displayed on yonder hill and bloody 
cross, where God’s own son is perishing for us, 
nor man nor angel has a line to measure. The 
circumference of the earth, tbe altitude of the 
6un, the distance of the planets — these have 
been determined; but thehelght, depth, breadth 
and length of the love of God passeth knowl¬ 
edge. Such Is the Father against whom all of 
os have sinned a thousand times! Walk the 
shore where the ocean sleeps in the summer 
calm, or lashed into fury by the winter’s tem¬ 
pest, is thundering on her 6ands; and when you 
have numbered the drops of her waves, the 
sand on her sounding beach, you have number¬ 
ed God?s mercies and your sins. Well, there¬ 
fore, may we go to Him with the contrition of 
the prodigal in our ears and his confession on 
our lips—” Father, I have sinned against heaven 
and in thy sight." The Spirit of God helping 
us thus to go to God, be assured that the father, 
who seeing his son afar off, ran to meet him, fell 
on his neck and kissed him,, was but au image 
of Him who, sparing his own 8on, but 
giving him up to death that we might live, in¬ 
vites and pow awaits your coming.— J)r. Guthrie. 
Greene, N. Y. 
Written for Moore’a Rural New-Yorker. 
ON BEADING AND AUTHOES 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ABOUT MARRIAGE. 
not reading at all. The secret of the error lie* 
in reading too much , solely for entertainment. 
We get to regard reading as merely a pastime— 
a convenient method of filing up the interstices 
of business. We take the last novel instead of 
a 6nooze, flattering ourselves, it maybe, that we 
J are augmenting our stores of knowledge. 
Reading, of whatever character, should be 
made the business of the hour, and until one is 
consciously secure in. established habits of vig¬ 
orous reading can he with impunity refresh with 
trifling books his exhausted energies, or while 
away the leaden-footed moment* that separate 
him from some anticipated happiness. To aid 
in forming a habit of judicious reading the young 
should be much exercised upon theanthors that 
have engaged their attention, andln.no instance 
should they be allowed to peruse a second vol¬ 
ume until they shall have proved themselves fa¬ 
miliar with the leading .features of the first. 
Reading associations are decidedly advanta¬ 
geous. The method in which the yare to be con¬ 
ducted should be varied to suit the capacity of 
the members. For the very young, some article 
of general interest may be read by a member ap- 
pointedforthe occasion, and this exercise should 
be succeeded by a recapitulation by other mem¬ 
bers, also selected for the occasion, of what has 
been read—much attention being given to the 
relation, that it always be in the language of the 
author. Not that the author is to be quoted ver¬ 
batim, but the greatest merit should be attached 
to tbe most perfect rehearsals. Further, the 
rehearsal of the reading of the previous, session, 
by members appointed, would furnish a very 
pleasant and profitable mnemonic exercise, 
while the subjects of reading and authors may 
be amplified ami discussed,—the latter exercise, 
however, more appropriately belongs to an as- 
’ . n 11, rr>L ■ _ • A if ___ _ A /I A. 
I would ask May Maple if we are to under¬ 
stand, by her “ Old Maid’s Soliloquy,” (in the 
Rubal of Aug. 4th,) that marriage inevitably 
leads to unhappiness ? Perhaps it has been her 
lot to see only the dark side of the picture, and, 
judging from that alone, she pauses not to real¬ 
ize that were there no sunsbiua there would be no 
shadow, and that in marriage as In all things else, 
there is a blending of the two. That there are 
many unhappy marriages is but too true; and 
can we wonder at it when we see so many mar¬ 
rying for convenience — on the one baud for 
a home, on the other for a housekeeper—with¬ 
out any regard to a union of sentiment or feel- 
iDg ? Such marriages are mere shams; and I do 
not wonder that a sensitive nature shrinks from 
the thought of marrying when looking at the ruin 
of so many homes. But we would not judge too 
harshly of a tie which should be regarded as 
sacred, for scattered all over the earth are many 
happy firesides, made so by love and congen¬ 
iality. 
Much depends on* the woiuau in making a 
home what it should be. There maybe many dis¬ 
appointments—many discouragements which, 
unlooked for, spring up around her way; but if 
she be a true woman she will seek to over¬ 
come them, and when trials come meet them 
bravely and cheerfully, that her husband, return¬ 
ing at night, weary with his day’s toil, may meet 
only smiles and words of cheer,—making his 
home the dearest spot on earth, toward which 
he ever turns with eager feet, 
And would the husband sometimes whisper a 
word of appreciation to her who seeks to make 
his home happy it would give new life and en¬ 
ergy to her every effort. It seems but natural 
that we should wish to be appreciated by those 
we love; and were there oftener words of praise 
and endearment spoken in the home circle how 
much it would help to brighten and smooth the 
rugged paths of life. a. e. w. 
Maple Hill, Cazcnovia, N. Y., 1806. 
DISAGREEING GUIDES, 
A clergyman of New York cl)y says:— “Visit¬ 
ing a dying man a few dayB ago, and urging him 
to accept of Christ, he replied: ‘ When I ,have 
walked along thc [ streets of this city, I have 
passed one cburai where t hey taugiit One wuy, 
and another church where they taught another 
way to be Baved, and I did not know which was 
true, and became indifferent to the subject of 
religion.’ If this man had examined the sub¬ 
ject, he would have found that with all the ap¬ 
parent diversity and contradiction, there was 
but one way of salvation taught in all the evan¬ 
gelical churches; but if all the denominations 
were visible and actively combined in the great 
work of giving the Gospel to the musses, the 
spectacle would be a demonstration to the skep¬ 
tic, and a startling admonition to the careless.” 
That man will not give a similar excuse for 
not being a Christian to his Maker and Judge. 
His wicked heart used these denominational 
.differences as a subterfuge from the call of duty. 
Different denominations are “ visibly and. ac¬ 
tively combined in the great work of giving the 
Gospel to the inassea." There is not enough of 
this work, it is true. The greatest difficulty is 
that the masses do uot desire that which they 
most need. Multitudes of ministers and Chris¬ 
tians fiu\ T c no greater pleasure than that experi¬ 
enced in giving the Gospel to those who are 
.willing to hear aud receive it. 
FAITHF UL AND WISE. 
The following anecdote of Richard Weaver, 
the well-known evangelist of England, is a strik¬ 
ing illustration of what tact aud faithfulness can 
do in winning souls ^ 
In a railway carriage a navvy was swelling 
terribly. Tbe guard, knowing Richard’s habit 
of speaking to every one, whisperad him, “ Bet¬ 
ter let him alone; he is so violent that he wouk 
strike you if his passion was raised.” 
Richard got close to him and said, “ Give iae 
your hand, my friend.” He then whispered int 
his ear, “ Why are you calling on my Father!" 
^I know nothing of your father,” answered 
the swearer. 
“I’ll tell you his name and character,” 
Richard, and then he repeated the text, “(io» 
so loveth the world,” &c., aud enlarged upon it- 
CHILDREN ASLEEP AND AWAKE 
How wonderfully similar are all children to 
one another when asleep. The same rounded 
half-formed features, the same gently closed 
eyelids, the same slightly parted mouth, are 
common alike to high and low’, to good and 
bad, before passion and education has begun to 
draw those harder and more decided lines which 
sleep cannot obliterate, aud which only pass 
away when once tbe first calm look of death is 
cone and dust returns to dust. No such lines 
njar or alter the face of a sleeping child, or give 
a clue to the daily history of the soul within. 
Look from young, Seymour the lord to young 
Dickson the shepheed boy. Look at the men¬ 
dacious and flerce-tempered Johnny, destined 
to break your heart and ruin you, lying with hia 
arm round the neck of his gentle, high-souled 
Georgy. They are all very nearly alike.. But 
awake them; see how the soul, 6tlll off its 
guard, betrays the truth in eye, in mouth, even 
in gesture. Well was the wise Mrs. Chisholm 
accustomed to say that the time to judge of a 
girl’a character was when she was first awake. 
Cannot we conceive of these four ideal children, 
but they would betray sometbinglto a close ob¬ 
server as their consciousness^! the real world 
returned to them ? Would not the little noblei 
man have a calm look upon bis face—a look 
careless, because he bad never known care 5! 
.Would pot some signs of weariness and, dissat¬ 
isfaction show themselves on the face of the 
shepherd boy, when he first found that his pleas¬ 
ant dreams of the cake and of the fine new 
clothes were unreal, but that the bleak wild 
morning, the hard cold hoots to be thrust qn 
stockingless feet, and. the poor dry bread, were 
most unmistakably real ? while Johnny will 
wake with ascpwl, and Georgy with a smile. 
TAKING CARE OF CHILDREN 
That children are so much left to the care of 
servants in so many families of the middle 
classes, is perhaps unavoidable. Nevertheless, 
it is a great evil. However attentive and con¬ 
scientious servants may be, and even allowing 
them to possess tbe necessary intelligence, it 
cannot be expected that their efforts can ever 
fulfill the office of the loving, watchful eye of 
It has been observed that children 
the mother. 
who are attended to by their mother, who are 
undressed and put to bed by her, who open their 
eyes in the morning to behold her cheerful face 
and loving looks, who by her are dressed, and 
kept under her tender and judicious care through¬ 
out the day, are, as u rule, far more good-tem¬ 
pered, healthy and intelligent than such as arc 
left almost wholly to tbe care of servants. In 
addition to this, it should be borne in mind that 
the accident* which so frequently happen to 
children, and by which they are often crippled, 
,maimed, or rendered idiotic, mostly arise from 
the negligence of those In whose care they are 
.left by inconsiderate mothers. Parents who love 
their children, and arc solicitous of their wel¬ 
fare, should give these considerations their earn¬ 
est attention, for they are founded upon facts of 
the utmost importance in relation to domestic 
happiness and well-being. 
soclation of adults. This iteration may at . first 
appear tedious and inane, but if projoerly conducted 
the exercise will possess ample stimuli, and if 
persisted in until close application shall become 
completely habitual, it will lend a salutary and 
positive influence that will enable its adherents 
to derive instruction a3 well aa entertainment 
from whatever may be read without giving 
that forced attention, that all who have con¬ 
tracted the habit of negligent reading will fully 
comprehend if they cannot define. 
Much, doubtless, is now accomplished in the 
elocutionary exercises of onr schools,>y render¬ 
ing them intellectual as well as mechanical 
tasks; but how many of us who have lived above 
. ___11 * .1. ^a/* 
AN ODD OPINION OF LOVE, 
Sir William Cornwallis in 1631, in speaking of 
the tender passion, said;—“It is a pretty soft 
thing, this 6ame love; an excellent company 
keeper, full of gentleness and affabilities, mak¬ 
ing men fine and go cleanly* teaching them good 
qualities, handsome protestations; and if the 
ground bo not too barren, it brlngeth times and 
songs fall oi passion, enough to procure crossed 
arms and the hat pulled down; yea, it is a very 
fine thing, the badge of eighteen and upwards, 
not to bq,disallowed; better spend thy time soe 
than at dice. I am content to call this love, 
though I hold love too worthy a cement to 
joyne earth to earth; the one must be celestial, 
or it is not love.” 
Written for Moore’a Rural New-Yorker. 
AUNT KATY. 
THE SOWING AND REAPING. 
Here is a man who is sowing what appears to 
be black ashes. A friend accosts him, saying: 
. . L!_L* ”1 » a 4' .__ a . .. ft ii 
In the far West, many hundred miles from the 
home of her girlhood, lives a young, though 
careworn woman, whose manifold labors forbid 
the indulgence of literary tales or amusements 
of any kind—who goes .from task to task dream¬ 
ing of the distant friends and scenes that she shall 
see no more. Every little act of kindness that 
warmed her childish heart is fondly remembered. 
It is true she has. children of her own to love 
and care for, but she has a passionate longing 
for social joys and appreciative friends to talk 
to. People, particularly laboring farmers and 
their families, learn such reserve with regard 
to the better part of their lives that it seems 
robbed of half its beauty. My friend who goes 
about her house feels it, too, and longs .to pour 
out her little story of homesickness into some 
kind old lady’s ear and hear her say, “it is too 
bad.” 
Particularly she longs for one dear old lady 
she used to call Aunt Katy, who lived next door 
to her father's, and who, being an’invaiid, was 
ever pleased when her little friend came in. In 
her imagination she is often a child again, Bit¬ 
ting on tbe 6tone door-step at Aunt Katx’s feet, 
with her hand* full of pinks and marigolds, or 
dressing her doll, or listening;to some nice 
“ What, have you got in your bag ? ” 
“ Wby,” the man replies, “I have the impres¬ 
sion that if a man is only faithful and sincere it 
makes no difference what he sows! ” 
Does it make any difference ? Suppose a man 
should sow couch-grass, thinking that he was 
going to get timothy hay—would he ? Suppose 
a man should set out crab-apple trees in, his or¬ 
chard, and think he was going to get fall pippins 
—would he? Suppose a mao should sow that 
most, detestable of all detestable seeds, the Can¬ 
ada thistle, and say that it was wheat, would 
any amount of botanical sincerity on the part of 
this fool secure to him a harvest of auything 
better than the seed sown? 
a score of years can recall a dozen chapters of 
our school-day exercises, which, from the nature 
of their subjects, came fully within the scale of 
our childish intelligence and interest V No one 
would confine a stndent to just such reading as 
Inis mind can easily comprehend, else will he not 
strengthen his mind by his reading; he should 
read and ponder, and if necessary re-read uptil 
the ideas become lucid; .but his reading must 
not be of a character .utterly incomprehensible. 
IFM to read is, after all, the most important 
feature of the subject; j and in this, as in the 
habit of careless reading,; one had better not 
read at all than to spend his time and waste his 
energies upon that which will corrupt his mor¬ 
als or vitiate his taste. • It is safer for every young 
person to consult some friend or acquaintance 
who has enjoyed the advantages of extensive 
reading, and at the same time isjposseased of a 
“ Married couples resemble a pair of shears,” 
says Sidney Smith, “so joined that they cannot 
be separated, often moving in opposite direc¬ 
tions, yet always punishing aDy one who comes 
between them." 
Lat it down as a rule never to 6niile, nor in 
any way show approval or merriment, at aDy 
trait in a child which you should not wish to 
grow with his growth, and strengthen with his 
strength. 
Two ears but a single tongue 
By nature’s law to man belong; 
The lesson she would teach is clear,— 
Repeat but half of what you hear. 
The last, best fruit which comes to late per¬ 
fection, even in the kindliest soul, is tenderness 
towards the hard, forbearance towards the un- 
forbeariog, warmth of heart towards the cold, 
philanthropy towards the misanthropic. 
It is wise and well to look on the cloud of 
sorrow as though we expected it to turn into a 
