m 
24 © 
putfe’ f|iep*i«tit 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
THE SOLDIER’S RETURN. 
imiKL 
BY A.V.MH M. liKAOrr. 
Tbk vine from tlie lattice is bending, 
As it bent in the day* Hint are o'er; 
Hut the lips that 1 pressed in its shadow 
Are aileut and cold evermore. 
And the form of my Nej.uk they’ve folded 
Away, with the flowers ou her breast, 
And the words which I breathe w ill not waken 
My love from her beautiful rest 
O, my heart lias so Strong in the battle, 
When I thought of the prayers and the love 
Of a heart that was perfect and holy, 
In sight of the Father ubove. 
But X thought not the angels would call her 
Away, ere the summer was o'er, 
And the lips that 1 pressed neath the rose-vines 
Be silent and cold evermore. 
The word* which she breathed at our parting, 
How well l remember them now; 
The moon beams came down in a halo 
Of light for her beautiful brow-. 
Her soft hand she laid on my forehead, 
And as cairn Howard the gaze of tier eye 
As the star lights that o’er us were shining, 
Afar in the blue of the sky. 
She asked not for gold to enrich me,— 
The laurel to weave o’er my brow; 
But she said “may the Father protect thee 
As good and as noble ns now.” 
Sweet one, where the willows are waving 
O’er a grass-covered grave I have, knelt, 
And I knew by the peace In my spirit, 
’Twa« thy beautiful presence I felt. 
I knew that a guardian angel 
Had folded its wings o’er my way, 
To watch, and to w arn, and to lead mo, 
E’en up to the kingdom of day. 
And there by the Beautiful River 
Which flows by the Throne of our (Joi>, 
We shall mourn not the life journey o’er, 
Though lone was the pathway we trod. 
Cambria, Niagara Co., N. Y., 1863. 
«- 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ASTONISHED. 
Ladies and Gentlemen of the Rural, we are 
astonished! — never were more so in our life— 
and we are becoming more and more astonished 
everyday. Whatabout? Because Mrs.B rown 
is wearing her last year’s bonnet, or because 
Mrs. Grundy admits none to her set whose 
head-gear costs less than twenty dollars? Not 
at all. Mrs. Grundy and her followers are the 
least of our troubles. Although we confess we 
are sometimes ruther astonished to see how 
quickly a new form of dress, an amusement, or 
an occupation receives n host of admirers and 
worshipers, as soon as Madame Grundy’ en¬ 
dorses it. For ladies to skate, was decidedly 
vulgar, until Mrs. Grundy buckled skate straps 
around her delicate ankle!—but for once the 
lady was sensible, in making a healthy exercise 
fashionable; we like to see ladies skate,—aud we 
like to hear a lady whistle too, as well as a gen¬ 
tleman. Of course we know that Mrs. Grundy 
and all of her sons and daughters vvill turn up 
their dear little noses at this,but mark my word! 
Mrs. Grundy will get into a whistling mood one 
of these days, and then you will see all the girls’ 
mouths in a pucker! and all the exquisites in 
corduroys will exclaim, “how charming!” 
We strongly suspect that some of the Grundy 
family are Agriculturists, and have taken to 
raising tobacco, by the popularity that occupa¬ 
tion is gaining. This is what we are so much 
astonished about. Five years ago, while spend¬ 
ing a year in Iowa, we well remember the Indig¬ 
nation a poor, ignorant fellow called down upon 
himself, from the whole township, by raising 
tobacco, llow is it now? —It has become an 
established crop in many States, not only west 
but east of the great “ Father of Waters.” Then 
the soil of the Western Reserve was free from 
the “noxious weed,"—now it os boldly raises its 
head upon our farms as though it was put there 
for a blessing instead of a curse! Good (?) peo¬ 
ple no longer frown. Ah. what marvelous revo¬ 
lution^, Mrs, Grundy and the “Almighty Dol¬ 
lar” are potent to work! 
The use of tobacco lias long been known and 
acknowledged as an evil, and we were surprised 
to see so few men principled against raising it; 
but when we found that not only woman’s influ¬ 
ence, but woman's labor was given to the culture 
of this abominable weed, wo confess our astonish¬ 
ment was at its height. Woman, who should be 
the type of all that is pure and noble, lending her 
aid and influence to foster this pernicious habit? 
— IFonum, giving her time and labor to put 
tobacco into the mouths of her brothers—aye, 
and sisters? And how long, think you. it will 
be ere the practice of cigar-smoking among 
ladies will be as common here at the North as it 
is at the South? A delightful prospect, indeed! 
The most disgusting sight we ever saw, was a 
woman standing by a liquor-cask, dealing out 
the death-distilling liquid by drinks! Woman 
cultivating tobacco is not many degrees higher. 
Let not the uninitiated suppose it ia only the 
lower classes who engage in this occupation! 
Young ladies of respectability —many of them 
formerly teachers in our public schools, are now 
engaged in the culture of tobacco. But, you 
say, isn’t man as censurable for the occupation 
as woman? Certainly; but we appeal to woman 
because to her we look for influence as woman, 
so is society. The world acknowledges the 
power of woman's influence over man—oh, then, 
sisters, we implore you, lot us strive that it may 
ever be for the rigid! 
But, it is argued, it is profitable, and we do it 
for bread! Aye, then let us rather go without 
bread than to gain it at such a sacrifice. So say 
our bai’-room venders:—“'We must live; people 1 
I will drink liquor, and we might as well sell it as 
others; we must live.” Not so absolutely neces¬ 
sary, in our opinion, unless we can live to some 
better purpose than filling the world and men's 
mouths with tobacco. If we drop tobacco seed 
into the ground, let us not condemn the rum- 
seller; how much better are we than they? 
True, it may be worse to put the bottle than the 
» quid to our neighbor’s mouth, but in both cases 
it is a traffic In that which is evil forfillhy lucre’s 
sake, and who may know the consequences of 
either? “But what is the harm in using tobac¬ 
co?” it is often asked. Yankee-like, we answer 
one question by asking another,—Who can show 
us any good! does it give to man a healthier 
body or stronger frame? — does it give him a 
clearer mind, or more cleanly person? 
We acknowledge that tobacco is very good for 
preserving flannels from moths, but we are con¬ 
fident there Is a sufficiency for that in the country 
already; if not, use camphor-gum—it Is quite as 
good. If tobacco would do os much for the peo¬ 
ple a? it. does for our furs and flannels —if it 
would remove the film from their eyes so that 
they could see something else than the Almighty 
Dollar — or exterminate the moths from the 
heart, so that, it might throb to other sounds than 
the rustle of bunlt bills,—perhaps we might be¬ 
come its advocate. 
What has so suddenly become of all the af¬ 
fected disgust with the habit of using tobacco; is 
morality on the wane? Right principle does 
c# ly seem to be at a discount in this age of | 
tobacco-raising and copperhead Ism. Reader, do 
you wonder wo arc astonished? We ure sur¬ 
prised and grieved at the course our young 
ladies are taking in this thing!—we would much 
rather see them go into the garden, and raise 
tomatoes and onions for the soldiers! Ah, but 
that doesn't bring in tbo money! Ah, no, so it 
doesn’t; but he that giveth even a cup of coi l 
water to a suffeaing soldier, shall not lose his 
reward. 
In conclusion, if woman will raise tobacco, 1<*: 
her be true t.o her principles. Let her smil- 
approvingly upon every pipe and quid and 
cigar-stump that she may meet in the street D, 
not let a frown darken your brow, when husband 
or brother fills the parlor with cigar smoke, or 
stains tlie carpet aud walls with the dark liquid; 
—do not gather up your skirts so scornfully, to 
escape tlie filth of tobacco-juice, as you enter the 
public hall, or your pew in the sanctuary. What 
if your new silk is soiled?- never mind!—you 
can go home and put In an extra hill of tobacco 
to buy another! Let there be no more complaint 
because “husband uses tobacco!” Wehavolittle 
sympathy for such, so long as women plant the 
seed for the quid, and her own hands form the 
cigar! 
“Oh, Consistency! thou art a jewel!” 
Madison, Luke Co., Ohio, 1863. Mary M. Smith. 
- - ■ ■ - 
ECONOMY IN A FAMILY. 
There is nothing which goes so far toward 
placing young people beyond the reach of 
poverty as economy in the management of 
household affaire. It matters not whether a 
man furnishes little or much for his family, if - 
there is a continual leakage in his kitchen or 
parlor; it runs away he knows not how, and 
that demon, Waste, cries “More!” liko the 
horseleech's daughter, until ho that provided 
has no more to give. It is the husband’s duty to 
bring into the house, and it is the duty of the 
wife to gee that none goes wrongfully out of it. 
A man gets a wife to look after his affairs, and to 
assist him in his journey through life; to edu¬ 
cate and prepare their children for a proper 
station In life, and not to dissipate his property. 
The husband’s interest should be the wife’s care, 
and her greatest ambition carry her no further 
than his welfare or happiness, together with that 
of her children! Tills should be her sole aim, 
and the theater of her exploits in the bosom of 
her family, where she may do as much toward 
making a fortune as he can in the counting- 
room or workshop. 
It is not. the money earned that makes a man 
wealthy—It is what he paves from his earnings. 
Self-gratification in dress, or indulgence in appe¬ 
tite, oi’ more company than his purse can well 
entertain, are equally pernicious. The first adds 
vanity to extravagance, the second fastens a doc¬ 
tor’s bill to a long butcher's account, and the 
latter brings intemperance —the worst of all 
evils, in its train. 
—--—■ —■ - - — ■ + ■ « ♦ . - 
Tiie Education of Married Life.—I t is 
in the first year of married life that a woman’s 
real education begins. Girlhood's teaching may 
have laid the foundation of intellectual taste and 
mental resource—happy if it is so. Here is a 
wellspring of enjoyment which neither trouble 
por sickness nor sorrow can ever obliterate; 
which nothing but crime can subvert, or turn 
into a curse,--or, unhappily, an education may 
have been imparted which lias only given grace 
and accomplishments, and left, the spark of divine 
nature untouched. Here, then, will bo the trial. 
Can dancing, music, or dress soothe one real 
pain, chase one real trouble, or give one particle 
of poutid advice? Summoned suddenly into 
lifi-'a warfare without defense, without the armor 
of faith, and without moral courage, what won¬ 
der it is so many battles are lost, so much ruin 
strewn on tlie plains and hills of the marriage 
terri tory ?— Ladies' Treasury. 
- 
As nothing can be more conducive to security, 
so nothing can better insure a quiet and pleasant 
life, than to live innocently, and upon no occasion 
to violate the common covenants of peace and 
propriety. 
Were wo as eloquent as angels, yet should 
we please some meu and women much more by 
listening than by talking. 
■-— . . — 
The mariner's compass has done some of the 
I most important needle-work in the world. 
Written for Moore'? it oral New-Yorker. 
THE HOME GUARD. 
Air, —A mbkica 
Sing, Patriotic Bard, 
Sing of tlie gallant Guard 
Who needs a name, 
Who at the call to fight 
For Freedom and for Rigid, 
Stays home with aU hi* might— 
Trumpet hi* fame ! 
Home Guard I—no fceeeeh phiz, 
For, to a heart like his, 
Union hath charm*; 
Great at a drett parade, 
Our parlors he’ll invade, 
And to the sweetest maid 
Hare present arm t. 
Repulsed he’ll heave a sigh, 
And hero-like will dye— 
{Faint not, oil bard!) 
Dye—Ids red whiskers Mack, 
Commence a new attack — 
Courage he does not lack— 
Our gallant Guard. 
Engagement* are his life, 
Could tie engage a wife, 
He instantly 
Would be right at his post, 
Raise (’tis his greatest boast) 
A little squad— yea host— 
Of infantry. 
B&inbridgc, N. Y., 1863. B. F. k. 
■ - - » » ♦ 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
THE OCEAN. 
“ That is the roar of the ocean you bear,” said 
a lady to me, as I took a large sea-shell from the 
table and placed it to my ear. Listening, I 
could hear, as it were, the distant roar of the 
ocean, now louder, and anon, fainter and fainter, 
until it died away like tho distant sighing of the 
wind. As I listened to the murmur of that shell 
singing forever of Us home in the sea, in imagi¬ 
nation I was transported to the beach—I could 
hear the sullen roar of the waves as they rose 
and fell, and see the foam-capped billows as they 
dashed against the shore. Before me was spread 
out that broad expanse of waters over which 
thousands of ships had sailed, and beneath 
which are buried tho treasures of empires. 
Perhaps one of our stately ocean steamers is 
plowing her wuy through the water, freighted 
with the precious burden of human lives. All 
on board feel safe, even if the clouds look dark 
and lowering; merry groups are gathered in the 
Cabins, talking of home and the dear ones whom 
they hope soon to see again. In one room a 
merry group are gathered around a table, en¬ 
grossed in some game of chance, while ever and 
anon some exclamation or merry burst of laugh¬ 
ter marks the progrtri of the contest. In an¬ 
other room may be soetf the mourner, so deeply 
absorbed in his own sorrow as to scarcely notice 
what is passing around him. Even on ship¬ 
board, human character is shown in ull its 
phases. All feel as safe as if sitting by their 
own firesides, when suddenly a cry is heard of 
fire! Instantly every voice ia hushed and every 
cheek paled with fear. All rush on deck to see 
from whence the alarm proceeds. Soon a little 
smoke is seen to curl slowly up from the deck 
here und there, and presently the flames burst 
forth. The captain and crow do everything in 
their power to preserve their noble ship, but all 
their efforts are unavailing; fire, so good a ser¬ 
vant, proves to be a hard master. 
It is morning. The sun shines calmly down 
upon the waters, and but for yonder blackened 
wreck, there is naught to tell of tho terrible disas¬ 
ter of the evening before. Where are all those 
brave men and noble women that but last night 
trod the deckol that now blackened ruin? Down, 
down, where the peri sleeps, and the mermaid 
holds her revels, they are sleeping the sleep ol' 
death. IIow many bright eyes will grow dim, 
and loving hearts sicken, with waiting for dear 
ones who will come no more. Oh! the ocean 
floor is thickly peopled, but it is with the dead. 
Fair heads, which have been used to softer pil¬ 
lows, are lying now where the sea-weed trails its 
amber-colored leaves over their brows, and 
where the sea sings its dirge for the lost. 
Rlchford, N. Y., 1863. Ei.81k Vk.v.nbr. 
-- ♦♦♦ 
Pictures.— A room with pictures in it. and a 
room without pictures, differ about as much as a 
room with windows aud u room without win¬ 
dows. Nothing is more melancholy, particularly 
to a person who has to pass much time in his 
room, than bleak walls with nothing on them, 
for pictures are loop boles of escape to the soul, 
leading other scenes and other spheres. It Is 
such an inexpressible relief to a person engaged 
in writing or even reading, on looking up, not to 
have his line of vision chopped off by an odious 
white hall, but to find his soul escaping, as it 
were, through the frame of'an exquisite picture, 
to other beautiful and perhaps heavenly scenes, 
when the fancy for a moment may revel, re¬ 
freshed and delighted. Thus pictures are con¬ 
solers of loneliness; they are n relief to u jaded 
mind; they are windows to the imprisoned 
thought; they are books; they are histories and 
sermons, which we can read without the trouble 
of turning over the leaves.— Dooming. 
The Charms of tue Mind.—P ersonal attrac¬ 
tions may for a time fascinate and dazzle the 
eye. Beauty may please, but beauty alone 
never captivates. The lily droops, the rose 
withers, and beauty sooner or later must decay; 
but the charms of the mind are Imperishable; 
they bud and bloom in youth, and continue to 
flourish as long as life remains. These, aud 
tbeso alone, are the charms that must, and will 
forever, enchant. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
SCRAPS FROM MY PORT-FOLIO. 
Our griefs and sorrows are only the sharp 
instruments with which God turns up the fur¬ 
rows of our hearts aud plants therein the seeds 
of forgetfulness, that they may ripen into a har¬ 
vest of mercy and compassion. 
It’s a man's thought-estate that makes him 
rich; not splendid mansions, elegant equipages, 
or extended realms. 
*On e of our leading authoresses styles the men 
of to-day, “ brutes.” Well, she has good grounds 
tor the charge, for many of them are unquestion¬ 
ably u dogs of war.'' 
The Richmond Examiner complains that 
tracts are distributed among the Confederate 
troops. We don’t see how they can complain 
consistently, for their whole army is just now 
making tracks. 
The Confederate government is calling for 
better men—the men are calling for a better gov¬ 
ernment 
Many a man keeps a “running account” with 
his grocer, and then runs himself. 
It is not surprising that those folks who some¬ 
times forget little things, should sometimes forget 
themselves. 
Ax admirer of Jeff. Davis’ Proclamation calls 
it a “string of pearls.” Watch out that it don't 
become his neck-lace. 
A jurd’s carol is made up of the fragments of a 
girl's singing, and a boy’s whistling—colored 
with crushed roses and Incensed with the aroma 
of tropical climes, then set to the melody of the 
little heart, and mounting in the plumed choir of 
the great cathedrals of the forest, adds a semi¬ 
breve to the burning lyric of summer. 
Sabbaths are pearls which Time drops at the 
terminus of every six days’ pilgrimage, and 
bitter, bitter will it be for him who touches them 
with soiled fingers. 
A rebel Congressman says of the National 
arms, “ they are great cry and no wool.” You 
mean to say then the wool is all on your side. 
Ah! very well, we’ll make it fly. 
Dubuque, Iowa, 1863. Glovjsd-Hand. 
A BALLOON DUEL. 
Perhaps the most remarkable duel ever fought 
took place in 1808. It was peculiarly French in 
its tone, and could have hardly occurred under 
any other than a French state of society. M. dc 
Grandpre and M. le Pique hail a quarrel, arising 
out of a jealousy concerning a lady engaged ut 
the Imperial opera, one Mademoiselle Tirevitt.— 
They agreed to fight a duel tosettlu tbeirrespect- 
ive claims ; and, in order that the beat of angry 
passion should not interfere with the polished 
elegance of the proceeding, they postponed the 
duel for a month, the lady agreeing to bestow her 
smiles upon the survivor of the two, if the other 
was killed ; or, at all events, this was inferred by 
the (wo men, if not actually expressed. The 
duelists were to fight, in the air. Two balloons 
were constructed precisely alike. On the day 
denoted, De Gran pro and his second entered 
the car of tho balloon, Le I’lquw and his second 
that of the other : it was in the garden of the 
Tuillerieu, amid an immense concourse of specta¬ 
tors. The gentlemen were to fire, not at each 
other, but ut each other’s balloons, in order to 
bring them down by the escape of gas ; and, as 
pistols might hardly have served for this purpose, 
each aeronaut took a blunderbuss in his car. At 
a given signal tho ropes that retained the cars 
were cut, and the balloons ascended. The wind 
was moderate, und kept the balloons at about 
their original distance of eighty yards apart.— 
When about half a mile above the surface of the 
earth, a preconcerted signal for firing was given. 
M. le Pique fired, but missed. M. de Grandpre 
fired, and sent a ball through Le Pique's balloon. 
Tho balloon collapsed, the car descended with 
frightful rapidity, and Le Pique and his second 
were dashed to pieces. De Graudpre continued 
his ascent triumphantly, and terminated his (oriel 
voyage successfully, at a distance of seven 
leagues from Paris. 
THINK AGAIN. 
The following beautiful incident, related of 
Queen Victoria, should teach us all a lesson. 
“ Think again,” is a rule of conduct that would 
save many an hour ol regret did we but strive to 
practice it. 
It Is related that during the first few days of 
tlie reign of Queen Victoria, then a girl between 
nineteen and twenty years of age, some sentences 
of court martial were presented for signature. 
One was death for desertion a soldier was con¬ 
demned to be shot, and his death-warrant was 
presented to tho Queen for her sigimture. She 
read it. paused, looked up at the officer who laid 
it before her aud said Have you nothing to 
say in behalf of this man?” “Nothing! be has 
deserted three times!” said the officer. “ Think 
again, my lord,” was her reply. “And,” said 
the veteran, as he related the circumstance to 
his friends—for it was none other than the Duke 
of Wellington—seeing her Majesty so earnest 
about it, I said “ He is certainly a very bad 
soldier, but there was somebody who spoke as to 
Ills being a good man, which he is lor aught I 
know to the contrary.” “ I thank you a thousand 
times,” exclaimed the youthful Queen, and 
hastily writing “Pardoned,” in large letters on 
the fatal page, she sent it across the table with 
delighted emotion. 
Rogues. —A man who cheats in short measure 
is a measureless rogue. If in whiskey, then he is 
a rogue in spirit. If he gives a bad title to land, 
then he is a rogue in deed. If he gives short 
measures in wheat, then he is a rogue in grain. 
And if he cheats when he can, he is in deed, in 
spirit, in grain, a measureless scoundrel. If he 
cheats at all, ho is a tall cheat. 
dim 
LIFE AND DEATH. 
BY ARKLAIDE AN’.V PROCTOR. 
“ W a at is life, father?” 
“A battle, my child, 
Where the strong* it lance may fail; 
Where the weariest eyes may be beguiled, 
And the stoutest heart may quail. 
Where the foes are gathered on every hand, 
And rest not, day nor night; 
And the feeble little uues must stand 
In the thickest of the fight.” 
“ What is death, father f” 
“ The rest, my child, 
When the strife and toil are o'er; 
The angel of God, who, calm and mUd, 
Says we need fight no more; 
Who driveth away the demon band, 
Bids the din of battle oea'ie; 
Takes the banner and spear from the failing hand, 
And proclaim* an eternnl peace.” 
“ Let me die, father ! I tremble and fear 
To yield in that terrible strife.” 
“ Tlie crown must he won for heaven, dear, 
in the battle-field of life. 
My child, though thy foes arc strong and tried, 
He loveth the weak and small; 
The angels of heaven are on thy side. 
And God is over all.' 1 
Written for Moore’sJ’ural New-Yorker 
“JOY COMETH IN THE MORNING.” 
“ Weeping may endure for a night, but joy 
coineth in the morning.” Life is changing ; often 
it seems as a weary day, clouded over with sor¬ 
row; but the clouds soon fade before the glorious 
sunshine of the morning, and we rejoice again in 
the light of day. As wc sail out upon the broad 
sea of life we see golden IlowerB in the distant 
future, and we hope to be wafted forward by 
pleasant gales, but to our surprise storms arise 
and we fear those bright flowers will never be 
gathered, for night Is upon us ; all seems dark 
aud dreary, yet we rejoice when we think the 
morning dawneth. All enjoy not life’s blessings. 
They toil from day to day, but hunger is ever at 
the door ; they spend many a night of sorrow, 
but they hope for the future, for “joy coineth in 
the morning.” The morning of prosperity has 
brought joy to many weary of life. Its sunny 
rays drive away want, and plenty enters a wel¬ 
come guest., bringiug happiness to many a hum¬ 
ble cottage. 
Life is before us and each has a work to per¬ 
form ; however humble our sphere, none can act 
our part, and if we neglect it, it must forever re¬ 
main undone. In sorrow we look at the duties 
in the future, and trembling we persevere and 
surmount the obstacles that lie in our pathway— 
for our trust is in God, and if “ He be for us, fe 
lie not more than all who may be against us?” 
Having discharged the duties required, a joyous 
morning beams upon us and we realize that “the 
path of the just is as a shining light.” Then letus 
go forward in a righteous cause and fear not, for 
hope will ever point us to a more joyous day. 
Then shall we reap a rich reward for all our 
labor. Aud when our work is done, life’s mis¬ 
sion closed, may we look back upon a life well 
spent; and as the night of death overshadows us, 
we need fear no evil. And may it be said of us 
in that day, “Well done, enter thou into the joy 
of thy Lord.” Will not our happiness be com¬ 
plete when we are admitted Into the blissful 
realms of l’arudise? Surely joy shall come with 
that morning. Elmetta. 
West Bloomfield, N. Y. 
' - ■»-♦ » 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
A LESSON FROM THE BOOK OF NATURE. 
Hast thou not read, my friend, upon each 
page of Nature’s book, of things God loves? Be¬ 
hold, the tiny dew-drop,—what pearl can equal 
it in brilliancy? ’Tis Nature’s fertilizer, the 
blades rich nectar, and yet ’tis small. The little 
dew-drops form the ocean and gorgeous rainbow, 
and ’tis little birds that till the air with melody 
and chant tho early morning hymn of praise to 
great Jehovah. Diamonds, pearls,, rubies, all 
are small—and wealth is found In gold dust. 
Ilencc, suys nature, God loves little thiugs ; up¬ 
on the humble soul he sheds his blessings; and 
to the poor in spirit is the kingdom of heaven. 
Be thou, O man, like Gon—Despise not thou 
small tilings. Turn not away with scorn from 
low aud plaintive sobs, such as the poor child 
makes when stripped of every earthly comfort. 
Console tlie widow in her lone distress ; and to 
the lowest of mankind extend a helping hand to 
lift them from their sad condition ; for God loves 
little things. 
» » » 
Nothing but Love.—C hrist will not take 
sermons, prayers, fastings — no, nor tlie giving 
our goods, nor the burning our bodies — instead 
of love; and do we love Him, and yet care not 
how long we are from Him? Was it such a j°y 
to Jacob to see the face of Joseph in Egypt•’ 
And shall we be contented without the sight of 
Christ in glory, and yet say we love Him? I 
dare not conclude that we have no love at all 
when we are so loth to die; but i dare say, were 
our love more we should die more willingly: 1 7 
our unwillingness to die, it appears we are liule 
weary of sin. Did we take sin for the greatest 
evil, we should not be willing to have its com¬ 
pany 60 long.— Baxter. 
That the Gospel narratives admit of spritual fe 
application is no accidental feature, nor is the 5 
application itself t.o be regarded as arbitrary and 
capricious. .Much rather does it spring from the , 
weight and significance of the Savior’s character Vj 
as the center of all spiritual life, that everything vrij 
in him and with him rises into a higher spiritual Mr 
significaucy.— Olshausen. 
