Sr _ _ 
, sn 9 
T TfS 
,ju 1 
BW-YORKEIL 
$k W 
fcdWlp* o cJL« e 
IF 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
FOREVEE. 
Wimt in it to die ivixi bo buried »w»j, 
Shut out from the light of the beautiful daj, 
To pav. like a drenm from the haunts i have known. 
And go out in the shadow v fulure alone 7 
The place* that know rne ahull know me no more 
When the toiling and striving of life shall be o’er. 
We said when we laid our fair blossom to rest, 
That life would be weary henceforward at best, 
Bat we took up its burdens and pleasures once more, 
And trod in the path that wan beaten before. 
O, bitter the tears that ray spirit has shod, 
To think I could smile when my darling was dead. 
When the green turf is riven to make me a l>ed, 
The tears o f my loved one will fall o'er Ida dead. 
Then muni after morn will dawn over the lake 
And never a footstep the silence shall break. 
No touch but the wild bird's will brush off the dew 
He would weep if I told him, and yet it is true. 
lie will think of me out in the graveyard, I know, 
When the lips lie has kissed shall be colder than snow, 
riavo ideas and be not fearful to express them 
plainly. Wo have too many Sophronisha 
Scriublewells, now; let us bare some of the 
more solid style. I verily believe it would be a 
good thing for society, if there were quite an 
admixture of the Quaker element in it. We need 
very much some such a discipline as the horti¬ 
culturists give their evergreens — cut oil’ the top 
and develop more in breadth. Excuse this plain 
expression, but there is a kind of upward ten¬ 
dency in our mental growth, which is upward 
only for its own destruction, whenever the slight¬ 
est adverse wind Swoops against it, this is what 
wo mean. True growth is upward, and remains 
there despite the buffetings of the world. 
Ik. Iopas. 
Villa Cottage, Seville, Ohio, Jan., 1863. 
-+•*- 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
AN EMBLEM OF LIFE. 
They sat together oil the shore. There was a 
slight ripple on the water, The moon, which 
was ascending the east before them in unclouded 
majesty, shed a long flood of light on the surface 
of the water, commencing at their feet and ex¬ 
tending as far as the eye oould reach. It looked, 
on that silent summer evening, like the sea of 
When the arms that have wooed him to slumberous rest glass mingled with fire, like the path of the. just, 
m 
THE END OF THE RAINBOW. 
“ Oo»ta, Nhu.y,” l cried, on a soft hummer day. 
When the sunbeams were clewing the rainbows away. 
“The rainbow has lit on yon hill, and you know 
There are bags full of gold a Uhe end of the bow.” 
Wn were young thoughtless children, sweet Nkj.i.y mid I, 
And we thought that the hill top was close to the sky, 
We thought too, (our brother* had said it was so,) 
We should find heaps of gold at the end of the bow. 
Bo onward wo trudged over meadows of green, 
Where violets modest, uid daisies were seen: 
Not paused till we stood in the valley below, 
And gazed all around for the end of the how 
“ Not here,” 1 said aadlv; hut Nkt.i.y replied 
“ It is hid in the moss by the waterfall's side, 
Rnn fast; if you move o'er the pebbles so slow; 
I’m sure I’ll he first at the end of the bow.” 
We found not the treasure we searched for till night; 
But Nkt.i.y, the sweet fragile blossom, was right, 
From tills valley of tears she was first called to go, 
To the spot where is resting the end of the bow. 
Where rainbows of glory unceasingly play, 
Dear Nkt.i.y is singing with angels to (lay; 
And her light snowy pinions are folded, I trow, 
In the fullness of joy at the end of the bow 
But when the frail body shall yield its control, 
Ah, what will become of this questioning soul ? 
I know the dear feet that oould never he still, 
Are roaming the Paradise meadows at wilL 
O, might. I but gaze on thy beauty afar 
And know thee in heaven, my lily, my t.tar, 
I could sit on the lowermost step of the Throne, 
Enraptured forever His mercy to own. 
Grand Rapids, Mich , 1863. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
EES GEST2E,— DIDACTICALLY DISCUSSED. 
IIow easily we train our fancy to suit our sur- 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Y'orker. 
OUE FIEST CONSTITUTION. 
Could we have been at Plymouth harbor, 
England, on theCI.li of September, 1020, we might 
have seen a ship of ISO tuns burthen, spread her 
Forever are crossed on a passionless breast. that shineth more and more unto Ibo perfect day; ,n dullness of joy at the cud of the bow. 
When he wearies of flattery, sighing for truth, or like one of the golden streets of (lie New Jc- - 
Will dream of me fondly, the bride of his youth, rusalem. Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
O, sweet are the visions Uiul round hitu will crowd, t!„!.i i... __ . „ . ,, ,__ 
„ r , ........ . . , said ho—“ .Sweet one, see here an emblem of OUE FIEST CONSTITUTION 
My faults and my follies hid under the shroud. .... .. u oun. 
your me. Here, whero the wafer lies unmoved - 
But when the frail body shall yield its control, by any disturbing influence, it is a narrow line of Could we have been at Plymouth harbor, 
Ah, wimt Will become of thtonaeatioumg soul ? light, unbroken and beautiful This is your England, on the 6tli of September, 1620, we might 
i i.now tin •!> .o i(i t F'i't <uuid in \ir in still, cliildhoud, when human passions yet slumbered have seen a ship of ISO tuns burthen, spread her 
o, might i hot gw* ott thy u-hut y nfnr ' m y° ur l) t 080m > und brought no interruption k) **lto nailH to the gentle breeze, and float nnyes- 
And know thee In heaven, mj lily, my t.tar, 1,10 sunshine of your life. A little farther on, finally toward the stormy Atlantic. .Many a tear 
i could sit. on tho lowermost step of Die Throne, where the breath of the Hummer breaks the calm was shed, numbel’s of parting losses exchanged 
Enraptured forever His mercy to own. and agitates the surface, the golden light is bro- arid farewells proclaimed upon that eventful 
Grand Rapids, Mich , 1863. ken, and is only reflected from the summits of morning, and as fl at vessel moved proudly out, 
»•-» - the tiny waves. This is your present. You have long looks and deep sighs followed her. 
Written for Moore’s Rural Now- Yorker. begun lo cutnii in contact with the world. Your Little did England suspect that within that 
EES GEST-iE,— DIDACTICALLY DISCUSSED. 80111 ilfts to feel the aspirations and irn- ship was material sufficient to lay the foundations 
-- pulses of humanity, and the sunshine is disturbed of a mighty Republic. She counted them hcre- 
IIow easily we train our fancy to suit our sur- ivn ^ broken. Yet it is not lost. Every wave of lies, and sneeriugly denominated them Puritans. 
roundings, lam led into this train of thought trouble is gilded na it passes by a gleam of light; They eared not for this; their promised land was 
from hearing a conversation tins morning on for you have learned to look forward, and to look ahead; for this they looked — for this they hoped 
marriage. The discussion was between a kind Him whose presence will harmonize all the for this they prayed. Onward they sailed 
matron of forty-five and a school mise of fifteen. discordant elcmentfl, and whose smile will dispel until safely anchored within Cape Cod, where 
Neatness in housekeeping was the. theme at first, darkness for ever. they offered up praises aud thanksgivings for 
AUTOGRAPHS. 
The following truthful article is worthy of a 
place at (he side of ton thousand ink-bottles : 
A fruitful source Of perplexity to the printer, 
and indeed lo every body else, is the obscure 
manner in which many person 1 -- rite their mimes. 
A proper name is tho most difficult thing in the 
world to decipher if badly written. A com¬ 
mon word in a paragraph may be known, 
generally, from it* ncoessaiy connection with 
the rest of the sentence in which it stands. F5nt 
there is no such help in this case. It often hap¬ 
pens that businessmen receive orders which they 
cannot respond to for this reason, and instances 
are numerous of goods being lost where they 
were consigned to names so obscurely written to 
an order as to be mistaken. A most remarkable 
instance of fair autographs, considering the num¬ 
ber, are those attached lo the Declaration of In¬ 
dependence of the United States. It is seldom 
so many occur in a single document, in which so 
few unreadable ones appear. Scarcely anything 
can be more important than an unmistakable 
signature. Was there ever a specimen to surpass 
John Hancock on the document above referred 
to ? It stands there to challenge the admiration 
of the world in all coming time. In the auto¬ 
graphs of public men, not excepting those of 
bank officers appended to bills, we frequently 
meet with such as are utterly unreadable. They 
would seem to have been written for puzzles, 
and they serve that purpose most effectually. It 
has been our lot to meet will) more than one 
which did not contain a single character resem¬ 
bling a letter of the English alphabet. If they 
were written in crotchets, with a view to defy 
the skill of the counterfeitem, the idea was a mis¬ 
taken one, for they subserve no such end ; a 
plain, bold, manly band-writing much more em¬ 
barrasses attempts at fraud. 
“THEY SHALL EE MINE.” 
“ Thht shall be mine.” O ! lay them down to slumber, 
Calm in the strong assurance that He gives; 
He calls Diem by their names, He knows their number, 
And they shall live as surely as He lives 
“ They shall be mine ” Upral-ed from earthly pillows, 
Gathered from desert sand, frutn mountains cold, 
Called from the graves beneath old ocean's billows, 
Called from each distant land, each scattered fold. 
Well might, the soul, that wondrous spark of being, 
Lit by His breath, who claims it for His own, 
Shine in Dee circle which. His love, foreseeing, 
Destined to glitter brightest round His throne. 
But shall the dust, from earthly dust first token, 
And now long mingled with its native earth, 
To life, to beauty, once again awaken ? 
Thrill with the rupture of a second birth ? 
“ They shall Ire mine.” They, as on earth we knew them, 
The. lips we kissed, the hands we loved to press, 
Only a fuller life, be circling through them, 
Unfading youth, unchanging holiness. 
“ They shall he mine." Children of sin and sorrow, 
Giv’st tbon, 0 Lord, heaven’s utmost verge, to thorn 7 
No! from each rilled grave thy crown shall borrow 
An added light, a prized and costly gem 1 
“They shall be mine." Thought fails, and fancy falters, 
Striving to sound, to fathom Love Divine, 
All that we know—no time Thy promise altera, 
All that we t.-u4—our loved one shall be Thine. 
-—- 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
NO NIGHT THERE. 
matron of forty-five and a. school ntins of fifteen. 
Neatness in housekeeping was the theme at first, 
then it gradually came down to housekeepers, 
lastly to wives and the various characteristics ami 
qualities necessary in a woman to tit her for the 
THE CHEERFUL VOICE. 
Thk comfort and happiness of home and homo 
intercourse, let ns here say, depend very much 
upon the kindly and affectionate training of the 
voice. Trouble, and care, and vexation will and 
must, of course, come; but, let them not creep 
into our voices. Let only our kindly and hap¬ 
pier feelings be vocal in our homes. Let them 
an uarhne.iH loi ever. they oflerod up praises aud thanksgivings for pier toolings bo vocal in our homes. Let them 
“Still farther cm, though the water is still agi- being permitted to we a land where they would ,M ' bo. if for no other reason, for the little ehil- 
tuted by the wind, the light appears perfect and lift free from a tyrannical king. Before setting dren's sake. Those sensitive little beings are 
unbroken, and grows wider and brighter till it foot upon Unit sacred soil they bound themselves exceedingly susceptible to the tones. Lotus 
responsible position of maicr-famUias, Tho mat- onieiges in tho infinite sky, where the source ol in a writing to live In union-, to which every man 
ron remarked that neatness was indispensable in 
a wife, if she would be respected by her husband. 
This must be one of the first attributes. The 
school-miss thought that if a man loved his wife 
he would get along if she was not perfect —i. 
e., he would like what she did because he liked 
her. 
Wbat self-deception. Just, carry it out, my 
dear Miss, and see what you come to. Why, you 
expect more from mere human passion than even 
the Divine Spirit can accomplish without great 
self-denial. Do you think that lore will change 
flic whole icsthotinal and moral nature of a man 
or woman? Do you think, because a man is mar- 
vied he cannot he disgusted with filthy habits or 
despise base actions? Do you suppose lie can 
bear a bedding, fretful, disagreeable creature, 
and never notice it, never show his disapproba¬ 
tion in looks or words? Or do you think that a 
man w ho has been BO unfortunate as to many a 
silly, simpering, novel-reading girl cannot, when 
he finds it out, feel ashamed of his silliness in 
marrying her? On the other hand, do you think 
a noble, educated, virtuous woman could admire 
a silly, foppish, rippling debauchee, simply be¬ 
cause he was her husband f Would not her 
sorrow be tbe keener for it, and on that account 
sink deeper into her soul, so that she would see 
the sin in a more hateful light, since it had been 
such a source of sorrow to her? Surely it would 
and one has only to look around to ace broken 
hearts every day. Love for a man or woman 
does not In its natural state overcome till the 
instincts oi human nature. Will a woman like 
tobacco or whisky because the man she likes uses 
it? No, but she may so accustom herself as to 
bear them, but she never likes them. The school- 
miss said, the other day, she liked to see men 
smoke! Why does she say so? Not because she 
likes it, 1 assure you. hut here is tbe secret. She 
has perhaps her beau-ideal of a man whom she : 
hopes lo win into the noose hymeniai, mid he, 
smokes, so of course, silly girl, she must love 1 
all this light shines on in deathless glory. This 
is an emblem of your future life. You must not 
expect to be free from human feelings, and tho 
sorrows and trials ever attendant on human lifej 
but, looking always to the Sun of Righteousness, 
the light of IBs countenance will brighten your 
pathway, so that all your sorrows will appear as 
nothing when contrasted with your joyR, and 
your life will grow brighter and more beautiful, 
till von arrive in that City whose foundations are 
eternal, where Goo shall wipe away all tearsfrorn 
their eyes, and we shall enjoy the light of the 
glory of God and the Lamb for ever.’' 
Then they wore silent, and then thoughts 
dwelt on the beautiful scone before thorn, till a 
little cloud passed over the shining orb and dis¬ 
pelled tbe glorious vision. They looked once 
more on each other. Her hand reeled in his, and 
the angels in glory were happier when they wit¬ 
nessed their kiss. J. A. McM. 
Murray, N. Y., 1863. 
THE LITTLE CHAIR 
There is a little chair that occupies a silent 
nook in the corner of a lonely room. It is never 
removed out of its place, and is only occasionally 
touched by reverent hands which softly wipe 
from its arms and little rune seat the atoms of 
dust, tours dropping fast meanwhile, but wholly 
unheeded. The little chair has not always occu¬ 
pied its corner so still and solemly; only i few 
short weeks, and it was the constant companion, 
the sharer in all restless fancies, of a bright and 
busy child. Untiringly up and down the little 
foot patted all day long, and only at night the 
blu© eyes dropped wearily, and Die loving little 
hands rested burn their eager work or play. 
subscribed his name—“the first Constitution sub¬ 
scribed to by a whole body.” - a copy of which I 
here present: 
“In the name of God, Amen. We, whose 
names are underwritten, the loyal subjects of our 
dread sovereigu Lord, King James, by the grace 
of Gon, of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, 
King, Defender of the Faith, etc., having under¬ 
taken, for the glory of God, and the advance¬ 
ment of the Christian faith, and honor of our 
king and country, u voyage to plant the first 
colony in the northern parts of Virginia; do by 
these presents, solemnly and mutually, in the 
presence of God and of one another, covenant 
and combine ourselves together into a civil body 
politic,, for our lie tier ordering and preservation, 
and furtherance oft tie ends aforesaid; ami by 
virtue hereof, to enact, constitute, and frame just 
and equal laws, ordinances, acts, constitutions, 
and offices from time to time as shall Ih> thought 
most meet and convenient for the general good 
of the colony; unto which we promise all duo 
submission and obedience. In w itness whereof, 
we have hereto subscribed our names, at Gape 
Cod, tbe eleventh of November, in the year of 
the reign of our sovereign Lord, King James of 
England, France, and Ireland, the Eighteenth, 
and of Scotland the Fifty-fourth, Anno Domini, 
1620.” 
exceedingly susceptible to tho tones. Let us 
have consideration for them. They hear so much 
that we have forgotten to hear. For, as wo 
adiance in years, our life becomes more interior. 
We are abstracted from outward scenes and 
sounds. We think, we reflect, we begin grad¬ 
ually to deal with the past, as we have formerly 
vividly lived in the present. Our ear grows 
dull to external sound; it is turned inward, and 
listens chiefly to the echoes of past voices. We. 
catch no more the merry laughter of children. 
We hear no more the note of the morning bird. 
The brook that, used to prattle so gayly to us, 
rushes by unheeded we have forgotten to hear 
such things. But little children, remember, sen¬ 
sitively hear them all. Mark how, at every 
sound, the young child starts, and turns, and 
listens! And thus, with equal sensitiveness, 
does it catch the tones of human voices. How 
were it possible, therefore, that the sharp und 
hasty word, the fretful and complaining tone, 
should not startle and pain, oven depress the 
sensitive little being whose harp of life is so newly 
and delicately strung, vibrating even to the gen¬ 
tle breeze, and thrilling sensitively ever to the 
tones of such voices ns sweep across it? Let us 
be kind and cheerful spoken, then, in our homes. 
—Once a Month. 
nguvuu, rrence, uuu .remm.’ me rugmeenth, Frozen KiNDNEH8.-The world is full of kind- 
id of Scotland the Fifty-fourth, Anno Domini, ness that never waa epoken, and that is not much 
better than no kindness at all. The fuel in the 
1’ause, kind reader, and reflect for one moment, stove makes the room warm, but, there are great 
^ 4 UL. UiiU. 1 _I . II_. i*i i , - .. . . . 
But, alas, the blue 
every thing that lie does, for his sake. It may do 
very well in theory, but when practice shall de¬ 
velop it in nice spots on the floor, or when this 
little habit is extended to a glass of old Bourbon, 
then she will change her sentiments materially. 
Caunol women see that habits increase as age 
comes on that oven a youth, with no personal 
bad habits, sometimes acquires them afterward, 
while those who smoke, are very certain to chew 
in after years, uud tbe slight wine-taster too often 
becomes the common drunkard. 
Here is another point. Women are too apt to 
trust to the good nature of man, and so vlccvcrsa. 
How many are thus sadly disappointed. Men 
. , an, ays era,»- h(w thjfJ , U( j e bliIJ(1 of Puritans litW br0lM ] an( , 
iim so < m y, only i lew floCp the foundations of our once happy and 
« the constant eomjmnion prosperoufl lleptlbli( , That *„ fp , M 
ss s, o a ‘right and Flower, must over be considered the cradle of 
ly UP J od ? ow f 1,10 * t l0 American Liberties, rocked by the free waves of 
ng, and only at night the the ocean. 7 ' This people left tlieir homes, their 
an y, and the loving little na ^ vo h uu ], their mother country, to seek liberty 
r t ogi.i vvoi i or play, and freedom in an unknown land— in the forests 
eyes are closed now; the of America. With this people began the conflict 
ion in. w no i eek; the 1776, A Vo conquered; we rose, and have grown 
> oy i a smoo t, pi,a id to he a mighty people, known to every nation, 
mi s a. jm a us ii y a test jj u( n0w our liberties are assailed; our Oonstitu- 
, . ... ," K . { P" B'dious avo boon tian put to naught, and our country fast going to 
suddenly and ruthlessly checked in the very be* „, s * u T , , . f 
. * .... T ■; ruin. Pause, I say, and ask thy Monitor in whom 
ginning of Ins sweet, young hie. Death has boon shall we put our trust? Shall it be in mighty 
there that tearful, unrelenting destroyer who armies and great Generals-with hoary artillery 
sums no mercy, win aniu l ates even hope and numerous horse — or in that same Unseen 
with one icy glance, and leaves to tender nily ,» ,,, , •, . ,, . . . , 
... B v Hand that guided our Puritan Fathers to the land 
only the poor consolation of tears. ..„ 
ot liberty? Buokkyk. 
Hebron, Ohio, 1863. 
piles ol fallen trees lying among rocks on the top legacy oi hallowed remembrances and associa¬ 
te' hills, whore nobody can get thorn; these do lions. The beauty of holiness beaming through 
not make anybody warm. Yon might freeze to the life of a loved relative or friend, is more 
death for want of wood in plain sight of all these effectual to strengthen such as do stand in virtue’s 
fallen trees, if you hiul no means of getting ihe ways nod raise up those that ure bowed down, 
wood home and making-a tire with iU Just so in than precept, command, entreaty, or warning, 
n family, love is what makes the parent* and Christianity itself, I believe, owes by far the 
children, the brothers and sisters lmppy; but if greater part of its moral power, not to the pre- 
Beautifully, indeed, has the Divine Revela- 
' tor characterized to us some of the glories, and 
briefly given us a foretaste of the heavenly world. 
No night there, uo shades of darkness ever to mar 
the light and glory of that beautiful land. No 
moon nor stare, which now we cherish with a 
fond delight, will there bo known, lor tbe “glory 
of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light 
thereof.” 
Reader, have you never tenderly guarded the 
sick couch of some dear loved one through many 
wearisome days and nighte — watching, if, may¬ 
hap, the death-angel may tarry yet longer—that 
the dear footsteps may tread in unison with thine 
again upon the shores of time? Yet, when the 
freed spirit soared back to its home in glory, 
were not those tears, tears of joy? Thy loved 
one shall never know more of pain, sickness or 
death. No clouds of darkness or tompesta of 
earth, shall ever disturb the pore devotion of 
that celestial sanctuary. No night there,— no 
lost traveler ever wandering out in the darkness 
to perish, no Iamb escapes from the fold to 
waken us with its midnight cries; for they are 
safely housed who belong to our “Great Shep¬ 
herd's fold.” 
Truly, earth is the harvest-field and heaven the 
garner-house, where the faithful of earth assem¬ 
ble to sjiend u long eternity within those man- 
sinus which lie has gone to prepare for us, and 
is it not indeed a blessed thought that soon wo 
may join our loved ones, to “go no more out for¬ 
ever,” dots? by tho banks of the river of life. 
“ There shall be no more night, 
No scorching nnimt.ide heat, 
There shall no tempests blow, 
No weary, wandering feet. ” 
Askih Gilmoku. 
Huutsburgb, Granger Co., Ohio, 1863. 
INFLUENCE OF A HOLY LIFE 
There ia an energy of moral suasion in a good 
man’s life passing tho highest efforts of the ora¬ 
tor’s genius. The seen but silent beauty of holi¬ 
ness speaks more eloquently of God and duty 
than the tongues of men and angels. Let parents 
remember this The host inheritance a parent 
can bequeath to a child is a virtuous example, a 
legacy of hallowed remembrances and associa¬ 
tions The beauty of holiness beaming through 
the life of a loved relative or friend, is more 
effectual to strengthen such as do stand in virtue’s 
wuysmid raise up those that ure bowed down, 
than precept, command, entreaty, or warning. 
Christianity itself, I believe, owes by far the 
Swedish Women.-T ito bedding everywhere 
along tbe road, is of home-made linen, aud I do 
not recollect an instance where it has not been 
brought out fresh and sweet from the press for 
uh. In this, as in all other household arrange¬ 
ment, the people arc very tidy and cleanly, 
though a little deficient as regards their own per- 
THE EYES OF CHILDREN. 
Every one who has been much among children 
and young people, ought to have learned one 
thing about them: that they are keenly observant 
Few things escape their notice. They are soine- 
tliey take cure never to say a word about it, if 
they kt'op it a profound secret, as if it were a 
crime, t hey will not bo much happier than if there 
was not any love among them; the house will 
seem cold even in summer, aud if you live there, 
you will envy the dog, when any one calls him 
“poorfellow.” Dr. lloUand. 
- +++■ -— 
Beautiful Sentiment. — “I would frown on 
vice; I would favor virtue — favor whatever 
would elevate, would exalt, would adorn charac¬ 
ter, alleviate the miseries of my own species, or 
contribute to render the world 1 inhabited, like 
the heavens to which 1 looked, a place of inno¬ 
cence and felicity, Though 1 were to exist no 
longer than those ephemera that sport in the 
beams of the summer’s morn, during that short 
hour I would rather sour with the eagle, and 
leave tbe record of my flight and my fall among 
% ,, f . t 1 • .* r- * * " .vovinpv nvAiiix.- tuwrv tuu iuvju ui in y ih^ih miu IJI > (ail iliJlulJ’.; 
arc, iifior all, only human, and but very few ol* non* flioip clothing, however, is of a healthy, thing Jike that mystic being spoken of by the the star*, than to creep in the gutter with the 
4 n Am lmi>,\ link a, I .I'O . ... . . V... I i . l it , . ... * * 
them have the conjugal patience of Socrates, 
We all admit they do not. use what they have, but 
this does not at all help the matter of fact We 
wish all the world were better, but it is not, so 
we. have to adapt ourselves to it as ii is. Too 
often quite a sweet temper can t>c so changed by 
evil forebodings, and sad experience, that naught 
is left but bitterness. This is a law of frail human 
nature. Let the young have truer ideas of man¬ 
hood and womanhood, and then there will be less 
of Uiis sickly, sentimentalism, now so very prev¬ 
alent. among them. Net that we would mako 
children jump to men and women, but that as 
they do develop they may have a natural not 
an artificial growth. Young women, be some¬ 
thing more than mere fixtures in the household 
economy, something more noble than the various 
ornaments which till parlors and drawing-rooms. 
substantial character, aud the women consult 
comfort rather than ornament. I have not seen 
a low-ueukod dress or thin shoes north of Stock¬ 
holm. I protest, 1 lose all patience when I 
think of the habits of our American women, 
especially our eotintiy girls. If ever the Faxon 
race does deteriorate on the American side of the 
Atlantic, as some ethnologists anticipate, it' will 
be wholly their fault .—Bayard Taylor . 
A Mother’s Affection,— A writer beautifully 
remarks that a man’s mother is the representative 
to his Maker. Misfortune and mere crime sot no 
barriers between her and her son. While his 
mother lives a man has a friend on earth who 
will not desert him when he is needy. Her 
affection flows from a pure fountain, and ceases 
ouly at tho ocean of eternity. 
Hebrew seer, and described by him as being 
“full of eyes.” They watch us when we little 
think it. People sometimes fancy it is an easy 
thing to deceive the young. Alas! they make a 
fearful blunder. It is easier to hoodw ink adults 
than juveniles. One sonieiiiwN hears folk talk 
in an exceedingly “knowing" and confident 
style about “getting on the blind side of children.” 
But the fact is that it is not, after all, a very easy 
; thing to find the said “Wind side.” and often 
when we are deluding ourselves with tile notion 
t hat we have found it, iol there are a pair of large 
watchful eyes fixed on us all the while? Rest 
assured, it is a dangerous thing to presume too 
much on the ignorance of' the young. 
It is a paradox that loose habits generally stick 
tighter to a man than any other kind. 
reptile, and bed my memory and my body to¬ 
gether in the dunghill. However short my part, 
1 would act it well, that 1 might surrender my 
existence w ithout disgrace and without compunc¬ 
tion .”—Noth 
Example is a living lesson. The life speaks. 
Every action lias a tongue. Words are but artic¬ 
ulate breath. Deeds are but fine similes of the 
soul; they proclaim the life within. The child 
notices the life. U should be in harmony with 
goodness. Keen is the vision of youth; every 
mark is transparent. If a word is thrown into 
one balance, a deed is thrown into the other. 
Nothing is more important than that parents 
should be consistent. A sincere word is never 
lost; but advice, counter to example, is always 
suspected. Both cannot be true; one is falsa 
copts ami parables of Jesus Christ, but to His own 
character. The tieauly of that holiness which is 
enshrined in the four biographies of the Man of 
Nazareth, has done more and will do more, 
to regenerate the world, than all other agencies 
put together. It has done more to spread ilia re¬ 
ligion in the world, than all that bus ever been 
preached or written on the evidences of Chris¬ 
tianity.— Chalmers. 
" ■ - — - 
Guilt not Distributed. —Men come to think 
that the guilt of sins committed in concert is dis¬ 
tributed; and that if there be a thousand men 
banded and handed together in wickedness, each 
shall have but the one-thousandth part of guilt. 
If a firm succeeds, the gain is distributed to each 
partner. But if it fails, each one may bo held 
for the whole loss. Whoever commits a sin will 
bear the sin, whether alone or with a thousand. 
Whoever commits or connives at a public sin, 
will bear the blame, us if bn alone did it. Pub¬ 
lic guilt always has private indorsement, and 
each man is liable for the whole note. 
Delightful Pictures of Christ.— We, who 
are saved by grace, have room enough in our 
Redeemer’s character for eternal love and won¬ 
der. llis characters aro so varied, and all of 
them so precious, that we may still gaze and 
adore. The Shepherd folding the lambs iu his 
bosom, the Breaker dashing into pieces the 
opposing gates of brans, the Brother born for 
adversity, and a thousand oilier delightful pic¬ 
tures of Jesus, are all calculated to stir the gffeo- 
tions of the thoughtful Christian. 
Negligence is the met of the soul that cor¬ 
rodes her beet resolutions. 
