CRADLE SONG. 
BY TIMOTHY T1TCOMB. 
Hithkr, sleep! a mother wants thee ! 
Come with velvet arms, 
Hold the baby that she grants thee 
To thy own soft charms. 
Bear him Into Dreamland lightly ! 
Give him sight of flowers; 
Do not tiling him back till brightly 
Break the morning hours! 
Close his eyes with gentle fingers, 
Cross his hands of snow! 
Tell the angels where he lingers 
They must whisper low. 
soldier's dress, when they’re no soldiers at all, 
perhaps have been in tbc service long enough to 
get a suit of clothes out of “Uncle Sam,” and 
then come home and strut around with all the 
pompousness of a Brigadier-General. They tell 
a lie wherever they go. 1 don’t think a man has 
any right to adorn himself in the glorious garb 
of a United Stales officer or soldier unless he has 
fully earned it. Neither do I think a chap has 
any right to ask a girl to be bis wife until he can 
give her a home in a free land! 
Minnik Mintwood. 
Athenaeum Lyceum, Alfred University, N. Y., 1863. 
ENGLISH vs. AMERICAN WOMEN. 
Wk learn more of ourselves by comparison 
than by any abstract study we may make. There¬ 
fore. “odious” as comparisons may be, they will 
be found useful, if instituted and applied with the 
THE EMPTY SWING. right spirit. Hence the following article,/rom 
- the pen of K. T. Tk all, is given our lady readers. 
Out in the shadow under the tree?, There are some hints in it, which it may be well 
Kissed by the rain-drops, swayed by the breeze, (o heed: 
Hangs a lone little swing, its owner is gone; ,, , ,, . , , , - .. .. . 
. . .. . . .,. ’ ’ “The better vital development, of the hngltsh, 
Our roselni'l of prounhe f uur Jigliwie&rtcd fawn, 1 t o i 
Is gone With the angels; ne'er again shall we see particularly of the women and children, has long 
The form we so loved bend the branch of that tree; been a subject ol remark witlj travelers) and we 
The earth i* impressed by the dear little feet, have been in the habit of alluding to this subject 
Unclasped is the rope, and vacant the sent. in our lectures on the health and diseases of 
Yet we gaze on that swing in the still evening hour, women. 1 lence, when Iheoppoi till lily presented, 
. Love lending tbo while it* magical power, we could not help studying this subject with 
Till we deem that again, like a bird on the wing, much interest. We trace the great difference 
Our bright one returns to her dearly loved swing. which exists. in this respect—and it is even 
Then take it not down, for a mother's fluid love greater than we had supposed—to two sources, 
Secs a halo around it that comes iron, above, * t , M . greater aniOUIlt of ideep, fUld tllO H10K! 0X P 0- 
And her heart, in its longings a dear picture sees, . , , . ,. 
_ , ,. sure to the fresh air. English mothers expose 
The form of her child m the swing’neath the trees. ... . 1 
themselves and their children to the air often and 
- - -- - - -♦ +■4*'- ' ■ 
freely a.^ a matter of habit, while American 
Written for Moore's Kami New-Yorker. moth( , r , exclude themselves and their Children 
MORE ABOUT WHAT WOMEN CAN DO. from the f r0Bh a j r !U . m uch os possible. On the 
WRITING TO TIIE SOLDIERS. W 0,1 tLc b ° ttte »'» lh « OnmibUSC*,ill the hotels, 
, everywhere, we noticed tbo almost, universal 
I have seen considerable about what women . .. . , . K . , ... 
, , , ‘ attention paid to ventilation. Nowhere did we 
can do for U,o „, *«■,■ and have boon very much Kl ^ liB)>woman a l„ r ft,,, l,or 
pleased; am gtol tta. UunAl.glVM space for any w , clto of a ,„, mm . 
one to say a word m favor ot the soldier. ... 
J of the babies seemed to have colds. All that we 
^ e8 »~ wo cau "■‘■'b* to them, and although i noticed seemed to be remarkably good-natured, 
have written a great many letters in my life, I jq j* almost, impossible to travel on a train in 
never realized bow great a blessing It was, till America where there are several young children, 
since the war broke out. 1 have corresponded without bearing continually the cry of distress 
with several since May, 18151, and 1 find that a f rom some of them. Hut wo heard nothing of 
letter from home gives the encouragement that is this kind in England. We do not absolutely 
needed. I always try to give them all the news know, from actual observation and experience, 
in general, and if we have a new minster, or that an English baby ever does cry, or can. 
have bad an extra meeting. I tell them the lead- English women are generally less irritable, less 
ing points, and strive to point out the way by morbidly nervous, than American women, for 
which they may receive a starry crown in that (he reason already assigned—more rest, more 
“ Beautiful \\ orld 1 whore there shall be no more nleop. more quiet — and this circumstance, of 
wars, whether their lot may be to die on the bat- course, has no small itilluonce on the organization 
tie field, or in a landuf peace. J sometimes pick mid temper 61 their offspring. And wo think 
out chapters in the Bible for them to read; in this view of the matter is fully confirmed by a 
this way they will tuke up the “ Book ol Books’ comparison of tbo waists of English and Ameri- 
when they would not otherwise. They have ( . an women. The effect of early and abundant 
sometimes told me that the chapter seemed ex- exposure to and exercise in the open air, is to 
pressly for their case. promote free hreatiung, enlarge the capacity of 
if I attend a soldiers luneral J try to remem- the• respiratory apparatus, develop the vital 
berall 1 can* and write them,— tell them the organs, expand the chest, and enlarge the waist, 
honors a soldier receives for giving his life in de- And the vital resources of any woman, or any 
fence of the “Star-Spangled Banner.’’ man. or any animat, other circumstances being 
In one regiment they had a Chaplain (un- equal, may lie measured by the dimensions of the 
worthy of the name,) that preached to them but lower part of the thorax. The English woman, 
four times in five or six months, and the boys say as a general rule, will out-measure the American 
if it were not for the letters they get from home several inches. This rule is well exemplified in 
they should almost forget there was such a thing the German women, who exercise much from I 
as preaching or meetings. early childhood in the open air. and who do not 1 
Dear Rural readers let us strive to be more lace their vital organs out of all symmetrical 1 
punctual in writing to the soldiers. Let every proportions to the rest of the body. On board 1 
mother and sister write, to some soldiers, whether the Bavaria were half a bundled women and • 
they are relatives or not— remembering they are girls from Germany, not one of whom lmd not. a ! 
someone’s fathers and sons. Are they not our round, lull, well-developed chest, so much so, * 
brothers, gone to fight for us and our country ? perhaps, as to be regarded as decidedly ungen- * 
Tell them how proud you are to own them as tool, by the wasp-w aisled fashionables of upper- 1 
such. I received a letter, a few days since, from tendom in New York. Another circumstance * 
a soldier’s mother, giving his address, and saying, that fills in favor of better digestion and more * 
“write to him; he is so glad to get a letter from enduring vitality with the English is, a habit of 1 
any one ho knows, or ever (bought of knowing; eating more slowly. So far as diet itself is eon- * 
it encourages him to know ho is remembered by corned, there is not very much to choose: But * 
friends at home.” the American people eat almost as soon as out ol' *' 
I think it a great misfortune to some, in not bed in the morning, swallow their food with very 
having one or more they can send in defense of imperfect mastication, and then hurry to business, 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
THE SWEETEST SONGS. 
BT AXXIK V. BEACH. 
That minstrels e'er have sung, 
Was when the heaviest weight of grief 
Upon their hearts was hung ? 
Why is it that our own sweet thoughts 
Are not in gayest hours, 
But come to ns in solitude, 
As flew to drooping flowers. 
Around the rugged forest oak, 
Tia* slender ivy twines; 
Alike in Summers zephyr breaths, 
Or winter's driving winds. 
We do not know how bravely up, 
Alone, that vine would bear, 
Till rudely from the giant prop, 
I to oliuglug clasp we tear. 
When to!—as if new strength were given, 
It bides tin* fearful storm, 
Which breaks before it* ohainlea* might, 
The oak’s proud towering form. 
li’eri so do throbbing human hearts 
Their dinging tendrils twine, 
Hound idol forms of mortal mould, 
Atid worship at their shrine. 
(.caning upon these earthly props, 
Their strength they never try, 
But when the idol forms of love, 
Fata stricken, change or die. 
They turn them from the ruined shrines, 
To learn, themselves, at last 
A power within, to stand alone 
Before the blinding blast. 
Then out before the gazing world 
Their hidden wealth they bring, 
Singing sweet songs, which erst in joy, 
They ne’er had eared to sing. 
Earth listens to the gushing strains, 
And twines the laurel wreath, 
Nor heeds the heart which yearns for love’s 
Sweet sympathy, beneath. 
Cambria, Niagara Co., N. Y.,1863. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ANNIVERSARY DAYS. 
our country. I would be one to make some sac¬ 
rifice. for l feel with the Rural writer, that this 
is indeed a glorious war, when we view it from 
the end iiTias in prospect. Let us stand by those 
who hold the reins of government, trusting that 
tbe Allwise Being will so over-rule thorn to 
make laws, and appoint those best calculated to 
win the cause. 
Hoping to hear more on tho subject of writing 
to soldier’s, 1 will stop lest I weary. 
Illinois, March, 1863. A Rural Reader. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
SOLDIER'S DRESS. 
T was thinking to-day if 1 had been a man I 
should be a soldier, if for nothing more than to 
wear a soldier’s dress—a very selfish motive ! 
must admit. But whenever I see a soldier I can¬ 
not help harboring a great deal of admiration for 
him, and even if he has an ugly face, I cannot 
help feeling kindly toward and interested in him. 
I somehow feel indebted to Mm, and know not 
how to repay hint except with profound respect 
and esteem. 
When I see a finely formed man. about six feet 
high, arrayed in the uniform of an United States 
army officer, my heart goes bang, bang, “against 
my ribs,” (u la Artemas Ward,) and big and 
securely stationed as it is. it requires all my 
“force of character” to keep it from telling the 
officer how much it likes him. 
I tell you. a pair of shoulder straps are won¬ 
derfully bewitching. The blue and gold of the 
uniform remind me of a heaven full of stars. 
But then 1 love soldiers better than other men. 
any way. Ouo soldier is worth a score of “stay 
at home rangers;” and any man who left for parts 
unknown to escape the draft, isn’t worth two 
cents. Why, I’d rather have a button off a pri¬ 
vate’s jacket than fifty such cowards, body and 
soul. I not unfrequently see men wearing a 
all of which tends to a’precocity of'brain andmus- 
Our lives are full ol anniversary days—days 
when our thoughts go back, way back, one, two. 
and perhaps scores of years, to the scenes anti 
hopes of the “ Long Ago.” Wo love, these days: 
they are enshrined in out hearts as sacred, ami 
we have built around them a wall of holy memo¬ 
ries, so high and broad that forgetfulness can 
never climb over it. 
And as one after another of them returns, we 
take up our journals, and read again the records 
which on that day, yens bpfore, we had put 
down. Some of them are sad; some are glad; 
some bring bitterness ami tho memory of bright¬ 
ness gone; and then wo write again of those old 
scenes— home-scenes, I mean—fair pictures of 
our early life, when there was a happy house¬ 
hold band, father, mother, sisters and brothers. 
But, one of these, anniversary days tells how 
and when the circle was broken,—tells of sick¬ 
ness and sorrow and death — of loving eyes 
grown dim and lustreless of pule bands folded 
over the calm and pulseless breast of one we had 
loved so long and so well. We remember bow 
the sweet, noble face was shut from our fearful 
gaze by the coffin-lid, and then the long loneli¬ 
ness. and the vacant chair, and the voice un¬ 
heard in the evening hymn. You all know how 
sad are such anniversary days; you know how 
they bring back to ue our great loss; you know 
how dark life seemed then—you who have seen 
father or mother go down into the deep “cold 
river,” waving their hands toward the other 
shore, while you stood on this side,pleading pas¬ 
sionately tor one last good-bye. And so, when 
the year on its homeward round brings to you 
that cold, dreary, winter day, yon go away alone, 
and commune with your beautiful dead. 
And there are the birth-days—glad days to 
ciilar activity, with the inevitable consequence of us, as children, for we had generous home- 
early decline.” 
A MINISTERING ANGEL. 
A Washington correspondent of the Journal 
of Commerce pays t he following deserved tribute 
to the*wife of Senator IIaklan, of Iowa: 
The women of the war, not those who pictur¬ 
esquely doff petticoats, and don breeches to fol¬ 
low their lovers—not the free and easy vivan- 
dieres—but the Florence Nightingales who spend 
the long days, and longer nights, in waiting and 
watching, and in ministering lo the creature 
comforts of our valiant soldiers, who, in the sick¬ 
ening atmosphere of hospitals, amid contagion 
and death, walk with tho blessed presence of 
God protecting them, doing their duty with high 
and holy hearts—Of such a class and character is 
Mrs. Senator Harlan—whose time is not spent in 
showing off the charms of her admirable and 
cultivated intellect, but in seeking with purse in 
hand to relieve the distressed, whose name is 
legion, be it small pox or typhoid lever, gan¬ 
grened wounds, or putrid erysipelas; to her suf¬ 
fering humanity never calls in vain. It is of 
such as her that Zoroaster says:—“They shall 
have their names written in pearls upon the 
robes of angels.” Meek, quiet in her plain black 
dress, tbo soldiers call her “ aunty.” and her 
coming lights their faces with the rays of hope, 
and makes them forget the tedium of a hospital 
cure. Would that the wives of all our Senators 
followed her example! Many think they would 
be quite as serviceable to tho Republic as their 
husbands. 
-- 
A child is never happy from having his own 
way. Decide for him, and he has but one thing to 
do; put him to please himself, lie is troubled with 
everything, and satisfied with nothing. 
friends, and they always remembered us then. 
Mother gave us a Bible un one of these, and fold 
us to be good children, and said she would 
always pray for us. Ah, me! we are grown-up 
children now’, and have been many years 
“ In (lie world's broad bold ol' battle,” 
and we ask ourselves if we have been good 
children; but our mother cau no lunger pray for 
us, for the angels came for her—and took her 
homo. 
There are many more of these days, but we 
cannot tell of them all to-night. We would 
leave these anniversaries of home-life, for our 
glorious national days. Our Fourth of July! 
What nation beside ours has such a grand jubi¬ 
lee! And to-day has been the anniversary of 
the birth of the. “Father of our country.” Does 
tho nation remember this? Aye! And all 
along the ranks of our brave “ soldier boys.” 
volley after volley of cheers and salutes are sent 
up! But moth inks 'Washington would not 
think this a gala"day, were he walking with us 
now. Rather w ould he gird him with sackcloth, 
and go mourning the dearth of loyal hearts and 
loyal hands, to pul down our national foe. 
THE LIFETIME OF MAN. 
When the world was created, and all creatures 
assembled to have their lifetime appointed, the 
ass first, advanced and asked bow long he would 
have to live? 
“Thirty years.” replied Nature, “will that be 
agreeable to thee?” 
“ Alas!” answered the ass, “ it is a long while. 
Remember what a wearisome existence will be 
mine; from morning until night I shall have to 
bear heavy burdens, dragging cornsacks to the 
mill, that others may eat broad, while I shall 
have no encouragement, nor be refreshed by 
anything but blows and kicks. Give me but a 
portion of that time, 1 pray!” 
Nature was moved with compassion, and pre¬ 
sented but eighteen years. The ass went away 
comforted, and the dog came forward. 
“How long dost thou require to live?” asked 
Nature. “Thirty years were too many for the 
ass, but wilt thou be contented w ith them?” 
“Is it thy will that 1 should?” replied the dog. 
“ Think how much I shall have to run about; 
my feet will uot last, for so long a time, and 
when I shall have lost, my voice for barking, and 
my teeth for biting, what else shall I be fit for 
but lie in the corner and growl?” 
Nature thought he was right, and gave twelve 
years. 
The ape then appeared. 
“ Thou wilt, doubtless, willingly live the thirty 
years,” said Nature; thou will not have to labor 
as the ass and dog. Life will be pleasant to 
thee.” 
“Ah, no!” cried he; “so it may seem toothers, 
but it will not lie! Should puddings ever rain 
down, I shall excite laughter by my grimaces, 
and then he rewarded by a sour apple. How 
often sorrow lies concealed behind a jest! I shall 
not be able to endure for thirty years.” 
Nature was gracious, and lie received but 
ten. 
At last came man, healthy and strong, and 
asked the measure of his days. 
“ Will thirty years Content thee?” 
“ IIow short a time!” exclaimed man. “When 
1 shall have built my house, and kindled a (ire 
upon my own hearth when the trees 1 shall 
have planted are about to bloom and bear fruit 
—when life shall seem to me most desirable, I 
shall die. Oh, Nature, grant me a longer 
period.” 
“ Then shalt thou have the eighteen years of 
the ass besides.” 
“ That is not enough,” replied the man. 
“ Take, likewise, the twelve years of the 
dog.” 
“ it is not yet sufficient,” reiterated man; “ give 
me more.” 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
AN EVENING PRAYER, 
Father, to Thee I some; 
Deign to receive an humble suppliant’s sigh; 
Thou who dost hear the hungry raven's cry 
Behold thy erring One. 
Oh, when the storm clonds lower— 
When o’er life’s sea the tempests gather dark, 
How shall I guide my frail, and fragile bark, 
But by thy help and power ? 
Thou, only thou, canst speak 
Peace to the troubled wave# that o’er me roll; 
Thou, only thou, cans! soothe my weary soul— 
Oh, Savior guide and keep. 
Father forgive thy child, 
Who may at times forget to trust in thee, 
When the faint breeze scarce Stirs the placid sea, 
When skies are blue, and mild. 
But life’# first fitful blast, 
Will drive the wandering penitent to thee, 
Thou Tower of Strength and Safety—at thy feet 
Our hoary head to cast 
Wilt thou not help to hear 
The weary burden we so long have borne, 
And e’en go with us to the unseen bourne, 
And smooth our passage there ? 
And Oli, on these dear ones, 
On the dear me, the fondest loved, and best, 
I pray thee let thy choicest blessings rest, 
Father of Light and Love. 
Keep thou thy stricken One 
Beneath the shadow of thy shelt'ring wing, 
The off’ring of a chastened heart I bring, 
Oh, make it all thine own. 
Arlington, Mich., 1803. Lizzir D. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker 
THE FIRST SABBATH. 
“ 1 will give thee, then, the ten years of the 
ape; and in vain wilt thou claim more.” 
Man departed unsatisfied. 
Thus man Jives seventy years. The first thirty 
are ids human years, and pass swiftly by. 
Ho is then healthy and happy. He labors care¬ 
fully, and rejoices in his existence. The eighteen 
of the ass come next; burden upon burden is 
heaped upon him—he carries the corn that, is to 
feed others; blows and kicks are the reward of 
his faithful service. The twelve years of the dog 
follow, and he loses his teeth, and lies down in 
ilie corner and growls. When these are gone, 
the ape’s ten years form a conclusion. Then 
man, weak and silly, becomes Ihe sport of chil¬ 
dren.— Translated from the German. 
Think fob Yourselves. —It is always best 
to think first for yourselves ou any subject, and 
then have resource to others for the correction or 
improvement of your own sentiments. Tints we 
may reach truth which we should never have ob¬ 
served had we caught a particular mode of 
thinking front any author. No principle should 
be received from education or habit merely. Let 
me observe before perusing the opinions of 
others. We check original thought by first learn¬ 
ing how and what to think from others. The 
strength of others should be called to assist our 
weakness, not to prevent the exertion of our 
powers, By means of this dependence upon 
books, error us well as truth descends in heredita¬ 
ry succession. 
Moral Character. —There is nothing which 
adds so much to the beauty and power of a mau 
as a good character. It dignifies hint in every 
station, exalts him in every period of life. Such 
| a character is more to tie desired than everything 
else on earth. No servile fool, no crouching 
sycophant, no treacherous honor seeker, ever bore 
such a character; the pure joys of rigbtousness 
never spring in such a person. If young men 
but knew how much a good character would dig¬ 
nify and exalt them, how glorious it would 
make their prospects even in this life; never 
should we find them yielding to the groveling 
and base-born purposes of human nature. 
Mutual Forukaranof,. —The house will be 
kept in turmoil where there is no toleration of 
each other’s errors, if you lay a single, stick of 
wood on the grate, and apply fire to it. it will go 
out: put on another stick, and they will burn; 
aiid a half dozen sticks, and you will have ablaze. 
If one member of the family gets into a passion, 
and is let alone, he will cool down, and may 
possibly be ashamed and repent. But oppose 
I believe Goo will yet give us an anniversary, temper to temper, pile on the fuel, draw in others 
that shall, in blessings to this people, far surpass 
any that has yet been. It shall he the day when 
our now sad-browod. weary-hearted Republic 
puts on her robes of victory, and stands forth 
among the nations, the Queen ol' Liberty and 
Equality! May it come quickly! 
Alice Bkow.y Nichols. 
Wilson, N Y., Feb. 22,1863. 
of the group, and let one harsh answer be fol¬ 
lowed by another, and there will be a blaze that 
will entrap them all. 
The Birth of an Infant.— The birth of an 
infant, it has been truthfully said, “is a greater 
event than the production of the sun. The sun 
is only a lump of senseless matter; it sees not its 
-**■*--- own light; it feels not its own heat; and with all 
Blessed is the calamity that makes us humble; its grandeur, it will cease to be. But that infant 
though so repugnant thereto is our nature in our beginnings breathe is possessed of reason, claims 
present state, that after awhile it is to be feared a principle infinitely superior to all matter, and 
a second and sharper calamity would he wanted lives through ages of eternity.” Let the iuirnor- 
to cure us of our pride in having become humble, tal mind shed its lustre upon the world. 
Looking afar back through the vista of time 
we behold in the morning of Die seventh day, 
the dawn of Ihe first Sabbath. How gloriously 
streams down the welcome light of the young 
Sun ! How the new Earth rejoices in his re¬ 
splendent rays ! How the green grass, the ten- 
j der herb, the fruitful tree, greet the beautiful 
light, and the delicate earth-flower looks smil¬ 
ingly up from among its leafy surroundings into 
j. the ether blue of the cloudless firmament and 
draws from thence its own soft hues. The ma¬ 
tin songs of little birds are heard, making glad 
the earth. The flocks and herds feed in tender 
pastures ou the green hillsides, the fishes rejoice 
,, in their proper element, and all nature joins in 
one universal song of praise and gladness. 
, But why. at. the command of the Omnipotent, 
sprang all these beauties into life? Is it suffi¬ 
cient for Him to gaze upon His new creation and 
, sec nature nourish in her regal beauty? Is there 
no higher purpose than that the beasts of the 
earth may roam at will and enjoy Ills bounteous 
i goodness? The noblest work of His hand we 
. have not yet seen ! For Ip I in yonder garden, 
| where the aroma of sweet spices fills the air, and 
beautiful trees, laden with all manner of pleasant 
. fruits, have been planted by the hand of the Lord 
God, find wo— man. 
Created a little lower than the angels, to him 
is given dominion over the earth and all that is 
therein. Beside him stands his wife, in all the 
spotless purity of primeval innocence. Sin has 
not yet entered to mar the holy peace of Para¬ 
dise, and, in sweet communion with their Maker, 
the new-created dwellers ol' the earth rejoice. 
It is the Sabbath. The Lord of Heaven rests. 
The Eternal ceases from Ilis six day’s labor, and 
consecrates the seventh to repose. How tran¬ 
quil the hours of this holy day! All is peace 
and security to those within that lovely garden. 
Sabbath-breaking is yet unknown. 11 ow beau¬ 
tifully suggestive the thought that the first day 
spent on earth, by reasoning mortals, should be 
one of rest and prayer. Surely life was well 
begun. 
Had not the wily serpent, who delights in de¬ 
stroying the happiness of all immortals and ma¬ 
king them like himself, discovered this new 
abode, this world never would have been the 
scene of war and bloodshed; peace and happi¬ 
ness were our inheritance, and a heaven on earth 
was ours. But now we look for a higher and 
more glorious Country, where the archetypes of 
all things beautiful are found, and where one 
eternal Sabbath, more lovely than the first, shall 
he the portion of the Just. Delight. 
Kcoriaia, SctieCn Co., N. Y., 1S63. 
— — -- ■ 
Proofs of Immortality.— When I consider 
the boundless activity of our minds, the remem¬ 
brance we have to things past, our foresight of 
what is to come—when 1 reflect on the noble dis¬ 
coveries and vast improvements by which those 
minds have advanced in art and science — I am 
entirely persuaded, and out of all doubt, that a 
nature which has in itself a fund of so many ex¬ 
cellent things, can not possibly be mortal.— 
Xenophon. 
■ — ♦ ■«■ » 
A Good Man’s Wish.—I freely confess to you 
that I would wish, when I am laid down in the 
grave, to have some one in his manhood stand 
over me and say, “There lies one who was a 
real friend to me. and privately warned me of 
the dangers of the young; no one knew it, but he 
aided me in tho time of need; I owe what I am 
to himor else lo have some widow, with chok¬ 
ing utterance, telling her children, “ There is 
your friend and mine.” 
From the time that, at my mother’s feet, or on 
my father's knee, I first learned to lisp verses 
from the Sacred Writings, they have been ray 
daily study and vigilant contemplation. If there ( 
be anything in my style or thought to be com¬ 
mended, the credit is due to my kind parents in J 
instilling into my mind an early love of the j 
Scriptures .—Daniel Webster. \ 
