Written for Moore’* Rural New-Yorker. 
“OVEEHEAED.’! 
nT K. C. I.. KIWBEL. 
their fellow beings, that Religion does not pos¬ 
sess Modesty, Affection, Gentility, Charity, are 
among its charniR. Seek it! Oh child of Earth, 
with thy whole heart, and it shall be found of 
thee. h. f. p. 
SLAVE WOMEN IN LONDON. 
At last all barriers of disbelief are broke.., The young female slaves of whom we speak 
All deep, blind meaning* of liU word* made plain, arc worked by gangs in ill-ventilated rooms, or 
As well might ho before my paling face have spoken rooms that are not ventilated at. all, for it is 
The words that blind me with such sudden pain. found by experience that if the air be admitted 
It was no fault of mine that they, as I, ltad chosen it brings with it “blacks” of another kind, 
The summer’s twilight from the mansion’s mirth, which damage the work upon which the seam- 
That where the sweet brier bud* with mjrtle interwoven, stresses are employed. Their occupation is to 
Where balm flowers and the violet* have birth. sew from morning to night, and night to rnorn- 
Thej came, standing between me and the crimson burn- 1 ng stitch, stitch, Stitch, without speech without 
ing a smile—without a sigh. In the gray morning 
Of the Min'd death bed in the far-off west, they must be at work—say at six o’clock, having 
In which my gaze bad traced with restless yearning a quarter of an hour allowed for breaking their 
The outlines of the Palace of ray Rest. f u < The food served out to them is scanty and 
Her face grew fairer as they watched the light’s slow miserable enough, but still, in all probability, 
fading more than their fevered systems can digest 
Where I had built the brightness of my dream, From six o’clock, then, till eleven, it is Stitch, 
While he, with slow and tender fingers braiding, stitch. At eleven U Small piece of bread is 
Twined the balm bloiaoma, crowning her his queen. ^ geamstre8g| bul m she must 
No fiery throbbing of the pulses they have crushed, stitch on. At one o’clock, twenty minutes are 
Mu-t thou, oh, heart of mine, let shake thy rest, allowed for dinner — a slice of meat and a potato 
Gather thou up the flowers that were not redly flushed, wif h H glaK8 of tua8t an(1 wat<!r U) each work . 
Not fair enough to deck her brow or breast. __ m,__• , ... . ... , 
woman. Then again to work — stitch, stitch, 
And with a faith that sees all wounds of pain made holy; until five o’clock, when fifteen JuimitCS are again 
Healing some unknown sin beneath the scar, allowed for tea. Their needles are again set in 
Wait for the justice that though sure, comes slowly, motion once more - stitch, Stitch, Until nine 
To break the bars where these dumb tokens are. , , , , , 
o’clock, when fifteen minutes are allowed for 
Charlotte Center, N. v, 18«3. supper—a piece ot dry bread and cheese and a 
glass of beer. From nine o’clock at night until 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. one, two and three o’clock in the morning, stitch, 
CALLS OF THE DAY. stitch! the only break in this long period being 
- a minute or two—just time enough to swallow a 
Early in the morning our quiet heart-parlor strong cup of tea, which is supplied lest the 
was cosily arranged for the reception of whom- young people should “feel sleepy.” At three 
soever might call. Everything was in order; o’clock A. M., to bed; at six o’clock A. 11., out 
Healing some unknown sin beneath the scar, 
Wait for the justice that though sure, comes slowly, 
To break the bars where these dumb tokens are. 
Charlotte Center, N. Y., 1803. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
CALLS OF THE DAY. 
all the Passions stilled; all the restless Impulses 
carefully restrained, and the up rising Feelings 
hushed into repose, that they might not disturb 
the chattings of those who entered. 
First, came a fair-haired, bright-eyed maiden, 
u|K>n whose brow we read the simple name, 
of it, again to resume the duties of the day. 
There must be it good deal of monotony in the 
occupation. But when we have said that for 
certain months of the year these unfortunate 
young persons are worked in the manner de¬ 
scribed, we hat e not said all. Even during the 
Hope. She came in. joyously, smilingly, and as tew hours allotted to sleep—should we not say a memories 01 Bomo Heath-scene or open grave, 
she sat down in the little rosi• embowered apart- feverish cessation from toil? their miseries con- an,1 > haunting the soul, they demand considers- 
ment, talking gaily of a future time, nil glorious tin tie. They arc cooped up in sleeping pens, ton linn ’ T,nlew summarily expelled by a successful 
and bright, Ambition urgently knocked at the >» a room, which would, p ohaps, be sufficient effort of the will. But they return. They may 
door, and rushed in, his face all aglow with lull- for two persons. The alternation is from a b« almost constantly suppressed by the activity 
liant dreams, and visions of brows crowned with treadmill (and what a treadmill!) to the black of tbe ,nini1 wl)0SP attention is chiefly held by 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
I CANNOT SING. 
BY MARGARKT KI.MOTT. 
I cannot sing to thee, O friend, 
A song of hope or gay delight; 
For joy in grief hath found its end, 
And hope's sweet stars are hid to-night. 
And harder still, to sing of faith 
That lives thro' sorrow’s darkened years, 
When faith sinks silent into death 
At the hot chrism of tny tears. 
And so my harp perforce is still,— 
I sing but as my heart may tell; 
I cannot smite the strings at will, 
Or guide the notes that from them swell. 
Gainesville, N. Y., 1883. 
’ - -♦ • ♦ —- 
A RAINY DAY. 
BY d. C. DUNN. 
Thk hours arc drowsy, and the hidden sun 
Hath fallen asleep upon a couch of clouds: 
The click and tinkling of the insect crowds 
Blend with the music of the rain and run 
Upon the sluggish air The swallsws dip 
Their bills into the river's swollen breast, 
And sleek, gray pigeons from the drowned eaves sip 
Tiio Summer rain On all things shadows rest'— 
Deep, subtle, earnest shadows that imbue 
The very soul with earth’s material hue. 
And here T sit and watch the growing streams_ 
A slave to thought. The story of the past 
I read: think of the present; then am east 
A pilgrim in the realm of hope and dreams. 
---- 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
THOUGHTS ON ETERNITY. 
There are limes in the experience of every 
person when the thoughts of eternity pour upon 
the soul in au almost resistless tide. To some, 
such thoughts are welcome; to others, they are 
not. Yet they eotne alike to all; it may bn on 
some solemn occasion, or in connection with the 
memories of some death-scene or open grave, 
and, haunting the soul, they demand considera¬ 
tion, unless summarily expelled by a successful 
effort of the will. But they return. They may 
be almost constantly suppressed by the activity 
bay-wreaths. Hope went out Willi him, and at 
their departure came dark-robed Sorrow, with 
her tearful eye and pale cheek. All the checked 
and bound Feelings and Emotions came troop¬ 
ing out to greet her, mingling their tears with 
hers; she shadowed the cheerful parlor with 
gloom, and her mournful tones echoed sadly 
from wall to wall. She went, as she came, in 
woe, but in her stead, we saw full-eyed Faith, 
with her shining hair, and face lull of holy trust. 
She changed drooping Sadness into beautiful 
Confidence, and scattered light whithersoever 
she went. 
Once Anger loudly, hastily, look possession of 
our little room, and then how quickly the burn¬ 
ing Passions rose up to ba'tlo there. Love 
calmed the scene, and bade them he still.. Pride 
strode in haughtily, withering all the little half- 
fearful Impulses, but Meekness laid her hand 
softly upon Pride's up-raised head, and soothed 
the troubled waters to rest. 
Slander tarried a moment at the entrance, 
closely followed by meek-eyed Charily, who 
gently whispered “judge not.” Revenge peered 
darkly through the window, but Mercy and For¬ 
giveness drew him hack, saying, “ Vengeance is 
mine, saitil the Lord.” Indignation boiled and 
seethed in one corner for a little while, but For¬ 
getfulness drove him away. Terfjplnt’um came, 
and with her, a thousand winning influences to 
lure the occupant of that heart-chamber astray, 
but Prayer bowed low, murmuring earnestly:— 
“ Our Father, abandon us not to Temptation.” 
Thus have Ihey been running in all day long, 
and at this lute hour, here comes Sleep, lustily 
beat no longer. The silence of the grave will 
come over your earlbly life. To you, death will 
be a reality, and the events of the future will be 
revealed. May God help you by His grace, that 
you may through life “ seek first the kingdom of 
heaven, and its righteousness.” Then shall ii be 
weU. with you in Eternity. 
Moriah, N. Y., 1803. A. T. E. Clakkk. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
AMBITION. 
To be ambitious is generally regarded as little 
less than a crime, and poets have sung and phil¬ 
osophers have moralized upon its evil effects. 
There is no doubt that a person may be too am¬ 
bitious, or allow ambition to misdirect him; yet 
a laudable ambition is not only praiseworthy, 
but something that no one Bhould lie without. 
Because a person is ambitious it does not follow 
that he must be selfish and unprincipled. As 
well argue that because a person is strong and 
skillful, that he must be a desperate villain. 
It is tbe duty of every person to be ambitious; 
to become as important a member of community 
as he can. In other words, to make the best pos¬ 
sible use of the talents that have been given him 
Deprive a person of the hope of rising higher than 
the position he occupies, and all incentive to 
labor earnestly and energetically is lost. The 
Editor should strive to make bis paper the very 
best one of the kind published. The Divine 
should not be content to enunciate old theories 
in the same manner that his predecessors.did a 
couple of centuries before him. but endeavor to 
improve himself as well as his congregation. 
The Merchant who does not strive to increase 
his business, and render himself as good a busi¬ 
ness man as any near him. has a pour chance of 
retiring upon a competence. The Statesman 
who does not endeavor, by a strict discharge of 
bis duties, to rise above bis compeers, does not 
faithfully serve his constituents, and a military 
man, although actuated l«y the purest of motives, 
will never prove successful unless he is ambi- 1 
tious. Our immortal Washington waB no ex- 1 
Ception to the rule. It was bis ambition to merit 
the love arid gratitude of a free people, and nobly * 
did he succeed. The Farmer should not, be¬ 
cause he is away from the more busy scenes of 
life, forget that he, too, should be ambitious, and ' 
should strive to lie tbo best farmer in bis locality, ' 
and make his fields more productive than they ! 
ever were before. 
hole of Calcutta! Not a word of remonstrance the common aflairs connected with every-day ., venly companion. Is tbe young Creation abov 
is allowed or is possible. The seamstress may lif< \ Yet they will come; tor there are seasons Ambition produces hope, and hope energy. It t0 VP j ai , Rl . inl( i its ancient night? Ei.oau smile 
leave the mill, no doubt, but what awaits her on a g ain an<1 a K am m the experience of men, when S lves " n Impetus to invention, science and litera- Htl(J n , pl |, 1( if , tht , o) „ ie eHl t h . 
the other side of thedoorV Starvation, if honest; thoughts of the dim future approach ominously, ture, and should be encouraged rather than Now appeared the heavenly lights; the moo 
if not, in all probability, prostitution and its con- tmd almost imperativelydernand attention. At- BC01 nei Wilton. shone out, and the hostel stats came forth i 
sequences .—London Times. tempts may he made to ignore the consideration iheir highest glory. The man gazed upward 
----- which solemn realities connected with existence DOMESTIC LIFE OF THE ANGLO-SAXON. with sweet astonishment, and tie angel of th 
A WORD TO MOTHERS. demand; but there is in the immortal being of _ Loud looked with compassion upon the wondei 
- men that which at times lises to sound the notes h hile there is scarce any institution of law ing son of cieation. The night was still, an 1 
Each motheris a lnstoriau. She writes not the of warning, and speaki- in a voice that is terribly or Bociety which we do not build up and pull (he nightingale sang sweet and clear in the dii 
THE PRAYER DENIED. 
I thought ’twss Thine to give me, and I craved 
One blessing more than all on earth beside; 
I asked it often, and I a-ked it King; 
It was not sin, and jet it was denied. 
Didst thou not bear (be oft. repeated prayer ? 
Prayed I amiss, as if the due were mine; 
Nor, simply resting on Thy love, exclaimed, 
“ Fulfill Thy promise, Lord, for 1 am Thine ?” 
Ah I foolish 1 He w-ho from the ocean’s depth, 
Thro’ roaring waters heard the prophet's prayer, 
Who mark* the first faint breathings of desire, 
Can never deafen his paternal ear. 
He heard me; jest He listened and he heard, 
And held the blearing in His own right hand; 
Whatever barred me from the good I eoueht, 
Had sunk to nothing at his Bole command. 
He heard, and might have granted; but be marked 
The secret reservation of the soul, 
The wish that almost to it»elf unknown, 
Forbade the prayer that on the accents stole. 
He marked the feeling that Himself impired; 
He knew the heart tie moulded, and He knew 
That while my lips the warm petition breathed, 
I did not wish it, if He wished not, ton. 
’Twa= so. Most Merciful I t did net say 
I loved Thy will more than the thing I sought; 
I asked an earthly good, hut Thou peri-eivedst 
Something wan dearer, (hough I said it not. 
Thou knew’st I would not have it, might if mar 
The better bliss to which my hopes aspire; 
And mercy, yielding what Thy wisdom knew, 
Denied the prayer, to grant me the desire 
— Prayr.is of St. Paul. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
THE FIRST SABBATH. 
(Translated from the German.] 
The sixth day of the creation had come to a 
close. The sun had finished his course, and the 
shades of evening began to spread themselves 
over the young earth. The first-born son of 
Creoion steed upon a hill of Eden, and near 
him Ei.oah. bis guardian angel and companion. 
It grew still darker, the shades deepened into 
night, and covered with a sable robe hill and 
dale. The songs of the birds ceased, and the 
glad voices of the animals became silent. What 
is this? said the man, in soft tones, to his hea¬ 
venly companion. Is the young Creation about 
to relapse into its ancient night? Ei.oau smiled 
and replli d. It is the Test of the earth. 
Now appeared the heavenly lights; the moon 
shone out. and the host of stats came forth in 
their highest glory. The man gazed upwards 
with sweet astonishment, and tie angel of the 
Lord looked with compassion upon the wonder¬ 
ing son of cieation. The night was still, and 
d drooping Sadness into beautiful history of empires or of nations on paper, but she audible to the soul, “ Think! think! ’ down; scarcely any idea which we do not light 
and scattered light whithersoever writes her own history on the imperishable mind 11 * s a Btartlihg truth that if the thoughts of for or against, there is yet one structure which, 
of her child. That tablet and that history will ''ternity are persistently excluded from tbe mind, to an Anglo-Saxon, is as sacred as the ancient 
er loudly, hastily, took possession of remain indelible when time sha!l be no more, the notes of warning will bo sounded more and Temple to the. Jew. Ilis house is his castle, 
m. and then how quickly the burn- That history each mother will meet again, and more unfrequentiyand inandibly. Thesoulwill Amid all his conflicts and conmsions, his family 
i rose up to ba'tlo there. Love read with eternal joy or unutterable grief In the have constantly decreasing sympathy with things remains the center of his regard.—the otic pure, 
oene, and bade them be stUL Pride far-coming ages of eternity. This thought should spiritual, and sink lower and Inner in the depths peaceful spot on earth, where he can lay off his 
iglilily. withering all the little half- weigh on the mind of every mother, and render ,MI ’ n , which infinite love alone can fathom, armor and wipe the dust and blood from hi* 
rises, but Meekness laid her hand her deeply circumspect, and prayerinl, and faltli- an<1 whore the Almighty arm alone can reach, grimed brow and limbs. There is no race in 
Mdc’s up-raised head, and soothed <'"• >" h( *r solemn w<-rk of training up her chil- mitil 0,10 Cftn tread thoughtlessly upon fhe verge which the family is so sacred, so potential. Tbit- 
waters to rest. dren for heaven and immortality. of the eternal world, while death appro: dies, little barque, freighted with the best domestic 
The minds of child ret) ate very susceptible and 
easily impressed. A word, a look, a frown, may 
engrave an impress)’ m on the mind of a child 
which no lapse of time can efface or wash out. 
You w alk along the Sea shore when the tide is 
out, and you form characters, or write words, or 
names in the smooth, while sand, which is 
spread out so clear and beautiful at your feet, 
according as your fancy may dictate; but the re¬ 
turning tide shall in u low hours wash out and 
efface forever all that you have written. Not so 
the lines and characters ol (ruth, or error, which 
your conduct imprints on the mind of your child. 
There you write impressions for the everlasting 
with min attending upon his loot-steps, to dis- hopes, with streamer unstrained and flying in 
robe the soul, unfold the future, and to reveal to life outrides all storms and comes into the Lar- 
the astonished and hopeless soul the awful reali- bor after Ihe worst political and social tempest 
ties wliicli the future veils. Oh! raethiuks if with every spar and sail, 
their vision over pierced the secrets of souls, I ' 1 other races and nations the family is corn- 
even fiends might almost pity the hapless state paratively unknown. With others, woman i- 
I.f the child of earth, whose thoughts never turn the queen of gayety and pleasure, or the drudge 
with introspection upon himself, and with high of necessity. But with our race, woman is the 
purposes and anticipations to the future! honored empress (let us be tbauktul if she is 
Not rarely do stirring thoughts pour upon one never the tyrant.) of home. On the domestic 
immediately after slumber. The controlling in- throne she Rits supreme, the mother and the wile 
fluecce of the senses has not then commenced to of the most vigorous, courageous, domineering 
exert itself with wonted power, and spiritual and triumphant race of the globe. She throws 
voici':- alone are heard. The thoughts are not around the stern struggles of the worker and the 
taut forest. Ki.oah touched the man wifh his 
-tali'. lie laid himself upon the lull and slum¬ 
bered. Here the first dream came over him, as 
Jehovah formed for him his companion. As 
tne morning dawn began, Ei.oah touched Ihe 
slum borer; he awok , and found himself per¬ 
meated with life and power. Hill and dale rose 
out of the shades, flu* waves leaped tip on the 
streams of Eden, the sun rose, and die day 
broke. As die man saw bis ncu-foinied com¬ 
panion, wonder and astonishment filled his 
heart. Behold I said Eloah— out of rest were 
rim godly born. Therefore, lo rest and godliness 
shall this day be consecrated. J. A. Smith. 
Milton Acadi-nn, Wi*., 1803. 
-- -- 
Christian Perfection,— Let perfection al¬ 
ways be your aim— nothing below it. Seeking 
strength from on high, rise fioin your knees to 
try it. again, and again, and again; and you ill 
find that every true, earnest, prayerfulefli.i t, i aises 
yon higher, and siill higher, on the Rock of Ages. 
Let every day see some wmk done, some battle 
fixight. some victory won. Hire every morning 
to §jake a t ow start for heaved; and let every 
moving forward; already we feel his st ran ire good or ill of your child, which neither the Hoods engaged upon, and absorbed by, the activities warrior the decorations of her sympathy and nun that sets leave you a day's journey nearer it. 
0 1 J O . A .1 . .....1 _ ill. - - 1 .1 lr.«T/v Is. __ _ .1. • ... ... ' . . 
influence; already Ins tones fall dreamily upon 
our half-conscious ear. But we ll welcome him, 
and bid him “ tarry for a night.” 
Wilson, N. Y., 1863. Ai.ick Bitow.v Nichols. 
)an wash out, nor Death’s connected with the seen and the transient; the love, and when he is weary or worn, she wine Work ou, press on, fight on. Do the best y 
the slow moving ages of soul seems to be unusually susceptible to high him back to the pure springs of domestic joy, can, live the best, yon can. get all ihe good ] 
nv careful, then, should spiritual impressions, and takes a higher flight and charms (so far as possible,) the fierce spirit can, do all Ihe good you can—do it at all tii 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
“ CHARMS.” 
nor llte si onus of earth can wash out, nor Death’s 
cold fingers erase, nor the slow moving ages of 
eternity obliterate, llow careful, then, should 
each mother he of her treatment of her child. 
How prayerful, and how serious, and how earn¬ 
est to write the eternal truths of God on his 
mind—those truths which shall be his guide and 
toward the Infinite, where fancy often turns with out of him. Miles Staudish, the inflexible 
ardent desires, but seldom stretches her Irein- gaunt, harnessed lawyer, walking with sword 
bling pinions. The untrammeled energies of the and armor by the side of his blushing bride, 
mind start into activity anew, and often, for the seated upon the milk-white heifer, and sur- 
you can; do it in all the ways you can. And 
God, winking in you by his Spirit, borii lo will 
and todouf his good pletismc, you shall rise step 
by step, onwaidand upward, to perfection; tril, 
mounting as on eagle’s wings, you arrive at the 
Of all the ornaments with which young ladies 
seek to adorn and beautify their persons, none 
can for a moment, compare with that brightest 
and most beautiful of all jewels—Pure Religion 
Without it, all other jewels are but aa dross; 
charming only whom they can deceive, and 
possessing naught of attraction to a sound mind 
that looks upon such vanities as mere instru¬ 
ments of deception, covering, oftentimes, per¬ 
sonal defects, lo allure some weak and wayward 
child of humanity. Think of this, oh, vain 
young girl! you, who are just, emerging from 
girlhood imo fashionable society; not that I 
would have you seek Ihe Christian grace* 
merely os an Ornament; for one peculiarity ol 
the “Pearl of great price,” is, that it must be 
sought with a purr motive, that the seeker’s heart 
may become purified; thus diffusing through the 
whole being a new and spiritual life, that, will 
give to its possessor attractions which the wealth 
of the whole world cannot buy. Ail diligent 
students of human nature, and of woman’s 
nature, admit that no girl can hold the power to 
Cliann a irue ami noble man, if they luck mod¬ 
esty. How rarely is it to be Been among the 
jewels ol modem young ladies; at least, in com¬ 
parison with what it should be. A true Chris¬ 
tian, one who has wisely heeded the beautiful 
admonition, “ Remember tliy Creator in the days 
teacher when her voice shall bo silent in death, moment, one leels like a new creation. “What rounded by the pageantry of domestic life and mounting as on eagle’s wings, you arrive at the 
and her lips no longer move in prayer in his be- gWes my heart vitality, and continues its lhrob- j° 7 ) is a simple and truthful picture of the gales of glory, and in you a perfect heaven re- 
'°‘ e half, in commending her dear child to her cove- W n S* Gon— it must be. A spark of the im- Anglo-Saxon race. He, the defiant, daily fighter; ceives a perfect saint. 
,rwi 1 . i i a t _ l . . i _ i • i* > m .. _ il . . _ _ x « • ... 
EDUCATION OF ITALIAN LADIES. 
It is a fact which will doubtless call forth a 
nant God. mortal, of Life, has been kindled in this frame.” she, the pure, sweet, enthroned mistress of his - -.4 - 
—-- 4.4 -- And the soul is almost startled by the impressive heart and his honor. He, with lips compressed The Endless Rest. — There are no weary 
EDUCATION OF ITALIAN LADIES. consciousness of existence, and martial tread going forth to his bridal as to heads or Weaiy hearts on the other side of Jor- 
- There is something strikingly interesting find a battle, and to the battle as to bis bridal; she, dan. The rest of heaven will be the sweeter for 
It is a fact which will doubtless call forth a suggestive in tills. The claims and future of the c,ad with beauty and purity, seated amid the (he toils of earth. The value of eternal rest will 
laugh, but which is in in truth deplorable soul may be lost sight, of, and its wants may be symbols of home comforts and pleasures, and be enhanced by the troubles of time. Jesus now 
enough, that, a short time ago, the education of a neglected. To neglect is fatal. Habits of rotir- greeted by the songs and flowers and laughter of allows us to rest ou his bosom. He will soon 
daughter of one of the noblest families iu Rome ing from the world, and snch thoughts of thesoul children.— Rev. W. IL Lord. briug us to rest in his Fadier's house. His rest 
having been completed un the usual system, it and eternity as induce pure purposes, are essen- --**♦-will be glorious. A rest from sin; a rest from 
was decided that before marrying and entering tial to Its upward progress here and well-being Conciliatory Manners. — Ift families well suffering; a rest from toil; a rest from sojiow. 
society, it was desirable that she should have hereafter. The dwelling-place of the soul here ordered there is always one firm and Sweet tem- The very rest 1 hat Jeans himself enjoys. We 
read one book <)l the class ol which foreigners are should be a temple filled with the incense of per, which controls without seeming to dictate, shall rest nut only with him. but like him. 
in tile habit ol talking at evening parties! Seri- worship. The heart is God’s temple if the Holy The essence of all line breeding is in the gift of Thanks he unto G«»d for the n-st we how enjoy ! 
mis consultations on the important topic of what Spirit dwells there. But the house of prayer conciliation. A man who possesses every other Ten thousand thanks to God for the test we shall 
this book should be, ended in the selection of “ becomes a den of theives” when the attention title to our respect except that of courtesy, is in enjoy vvilh Christ! Wearied one. Jtn.k away 
" lLide Tom s Cabin ’ as the work which, on the is wholly engaged by Ihe things of time and danger of forfeiting them all. A rudo maunef from the cause of thy present suffering, and re- 
whole, would form the best basis for general con- sense. High spiritual emotions are rare in the renders its owner always liable to affront. lie member there is a rest remaining for thee. A 
• ersation. But was the princess to read Mrs. experience of almost all men. being subordinate is never without dignity who avoids wounding 
Stowe’s story, with all its heretical history, pur et to those which are induced by the senses; fear- the dignity of others. Time is an old novelist 
simple! Such a thing could not be thought of fully so, often, even in the history of Christians, who takes pleasure in printing his tales on our DokXS of the Word —“ Be ye doers of the 
A digest was compiled by the confessor—a pretty There are, however, auspicious moments for the countenances. He writes the first chapters with word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own 
little abridgment of the talo, in about fifty or conception #f spiritual thoughts, when tlie soul a swan’s down, and graves the last w ith a selves.” It is very striking to see ihe usefulness 
sixty pages of manuscript; and this safe and tnay assert its real superiority and nobility, steel pen. of many Christians. Are there none of you who 
wholesome extract, divested of all the poisonous These moments should be diligently sought for - know what it ra lo he selfish in your Christianity: 
ingredients of the original beverage, was duly and carefully improved. The appointment of Condensed Argument. A very celebrated You have seen a selfish child go into a secret 
administered to the youthful lips. Armed at the Sabbath, and its importance, need only be Scotch divine says:—“ The world that we inhabit place lo enjoy some delictoiiMnoi>el, undisturbed 
adverted to. Its sacred hours, with the appro- must have had an origin; that origin must have by his companion*. 60 iris with some Christians, 
priate daily seasons for thought and prayer, consisted in a cause; that cause must have been They feed upon Christ and'forgiveness; but it is 
should be so improved that a controlling under- intelligent; that intelligence must have been etti- alone, and all for iliemsclves.— H. W. Beecher. 
Current of holy, spiritual vitality may flow cicnt; that efficiency must have been supreme ;--* — - 
through all Ihe week, and with miabated power, and that which always was, and is supreme, we If you would not have affliction make a second 
Mortal, the hearts which now beat will soon know by the name God.” visit listen to the teachings of the first. 
enjoy wiili Christ! Wearied one. Joi.k away 
from the cause of thy present suttering, and re¬ 
member 111 era is a lest, remaining for Ibee. A 
little while and thou shall enter into rest. 
ol thy youth,” never blooms into womanhood sounded into the arena of balls and receptions, should be so improved that a 
lacking this grace. In fact, there are none ol and asked everybody she met. “Had they read current of holy, spiritual 
tiie Graces which can render poor, fallen, that charming new hook, Lo Zio Tom?” —Mac- through all Ihe week, and wii 
human Vipinrra mm‘*> on i«u/ r «ii*rr» *« _ • , __ . . ... 
human beings more attractive in the eyes of miUan's Magazine 
