$a&ics' fkjjacfm.cn.1 
SLACK A LITTLE. 
Slack a little 1 Slack n little, 
Darling wife; 
Why each breathless haste and knny 
All thy life ? 
Slock the rigor of thy striving. 
Ere too late. 
Tell those monsters. Care and Labor, 
Just to wait. 
Slack a little I Slack a little, 
Busy hand; 
Slack thy rubbing and thy scrubbing, 
Drop the sand; 
Minister thy blessings slowly, 
And the longer; 
Bind love's thousand precious tendrils 
All the stronger I 
Slack a little 1 Slock a little 
Weary feet 1 
'Tie a thorny road you’re treading, 
Death to greet. 
Slack yonr quick and fearless stepping, 
Sparc your strength; 
Ye the golden streets of Ileaven 
• Shall tread at length; 
Slack a little 1 Slack a little, 
Precious heart; 
Slack the fervor of thy throbbing 
Ero wc part. 
Thrill not thus with every sorrow, 
. Anxious ever; 
Trembling like an Angel Lyre 
Forever 
Strung for high and holy themes. 
Slack thy sorrow; 
Ileaven those rapturous themes may wake 
Perhaps to-morrow 1 
Slack a little I Time, how fleeting. 
Slack thy wing! 
To my heart’s long cherished treasure 
Let me cling! 
Go to Mirth, and from his chalice 
Take the pleasure; 
Pilfer Wealth, and from his palace, 
Take bis treasure. 
Why such haste my night to bring? 
Slack, O Time, thy scythe and wingl 
Slack a little I Slack a little, 
Death, O Death 1 
Vain thy strife and panting haste, 
All out of breath 1 
See f she fears not. thy approaching*— 
Thou hast uo sting; 
Clasp her in thy cold embracing 
She will sing I 
Slack, O Death I how sure thy loss, 
Thou waet conquered on the Cross I 
[ Harper's Monthly for Jcummy. 
WOMAN'S EIGHTS. 
The recent discussion of this subject, old as 
it is, iu the Rural has aroused agood runny cor¬ 
respondents, who have a word or two to say on 
the one topic that seems never to lose its inter¬ 
est, and probably never will until the experiment 
of female suffrage hart been actually tried on a 
large bcuIc. The publication of nil the favors 
we have received would be useless as well ns 
burdensome. Wo therefore select the two fol¬ 
lowing, which it will be observed take very dis¬ 
tinct grounds, and whle.lt we. believe cover the 
arguments of all the others: 
Mr. Editor Id perusing the columns ot the 
Rural of December 22d, my attention was par¬ 
ticularly arrested by an article on “Woman’s 
Rights,” by a gentleman from the Buckeye 
State, and a strong impulse impels me to write 
a few words concerning it. 
He states that “all of the female world arc 
crying aiond for their place at the ballot-box.” 
I would humbly beg leave to differ with him 
concerning the number that arc raising that pe-1 
culiar cry; for, as regards myself, I can state 
positively that I do not belong to that peculiar 
class; and I am happy to know that nil of the male 
portion of the world do not adopt his lofty view 
concerning woman's sphere; and there are those 
who are not fearful lest woman, if she. be per¬ 
mitted to enjoy the same advantages anti prlvil- 
give their names a conspicuous place in the pub¬ 
lic journals of the daj T , will write without any 
fixed purpose, or any subject which they under¬ 
stand. I am of the opinion that this must be j 
the case with your correspondent, C. T. Leon- j 
ard, in the Rural of December 23d, when be 
says that “all the female world are crying aloud 
for their place at the ballot-box.” No one who 
is in possession of any very extended information 
of the “female world,” or is a candid and sensi¬ 
ble man, could make any such expression, unless 
he was a crusty old bachelor, whose vanity led 
him iu that direction, thinking that perhaps he 
might win sonic good graces from what is called 
the fairer sex. If this be the object of your 
correspondent he has missed his point, at least 
in this locality. 
The “ female world ” are satisfied and content¬ 
ed with their sphere of action and the influence 
they wield in all domestic as well as political 
affairs. What lady ever asked for the privclege 
of standing upon the rostrum to attract the 
crowd and meet the novelty of the scene, or to 
crowd into places not her own, except Lucy 
Stone and a few of berstripc, who are abhorred 
and detested by the “female world ?” We had 
supposed the male world bad more discretion 
than to follow the lead of those few fanatics who 
have kept the world astir for a time past The 
right to the ballot-box was never asked for by 
any sensible lady; and the only great, decisive 
act to settle the question finally and forever is 
for the male world to let it alone and no longer 
follow the lead of certain women. The picture 
drawn by your correspondent is all a fiction, 
without even the semblance of reality. Now, 
permit me to say to your correspondent that if 
the “ female world ” ever do go to the ballot- 
box they will go tree and independent, and 
will be gove rned by higher and more noble mo¬ 
tives than those which at times control the mule 
world. 8. Calista Lord. 
Pavilion, Dec., 1866. 
THE QUESTION OF SPHERE. 
There was a great cackling among British 
biddies when Florence* Nightingale proposed to 
go to the Crimea to nurse wounded soldiers. 
“What an unfemlnine proceeding I” they ox- 
claimed, “ to go among an army of men! Of 
course, she will meet with all manner of insults, 
and see all manner of improper sights.” But 
Miss Nightingale went in the panoply of her 
modesty and conscientious kindness, and the 
poor soldiers looked upon her as an angel sent 
from heaven, and reverently blessed her passing 
shadow as it fell on their miserable pallets. 
When her mission of mercy was finished she re¬ 
tired to the seclusion of her own home none the 
Jess a gentlewoman for all that hard and painful 
experience. Her example bad such an ennobliug 
effect upon American .women that they rose np 
by hundreds us missionaries of mercy during our 
civil war, and manifested a degree of business 
talent in the management of sanitary commis¬ 
sions that would have made merchant princesses 
of some of them if it had been carried into the 
departments of commerce. These various suc¬ 
cesses have encouraged women to claim an ac¬ 
knowledged place in the medical profession. 
They were met, as usual, with some frowns and 
a few jeers, but the prevailing disposition seems 
to be to leave the course open to them, and they 
are. fast becoming an honorable and established 
class of physicians. Is this a time to tallc of go¬ 
ing back to the patriarchal system ? 
Hannah More once said, “I really think 
there is no animal so much indebted to subordi¬ 
nation for its good behavior as woman.” In 
less than fifty years alter I heard a plain, untu¬ 
tored man begin his address to a large audience 
thus:—“I am an individual; and my wife there, 
6he is an individual; and we are all of us indi¬ 
viduals.” The world moves.— Mrs. L. M. Child. 
-■■ - . 
A FEMALE CAVALRYMAN. 
A Mrs. Frances F. Skikl is now In Washing¬ 
ton, upplyiugat the Pay Department for back pay 
for services rendered in the Western armies as a 
cavalryman. She says she enlisted in 1861, with 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ADIEU TO THE RURAL. 
[ Tub following lines are addressed to the Rural 
by one who regrets his inability to continue his sub¬ 
scription, bat who fills the place he occupied in our 
list by remitting for a friend: ] 
There Is a saying, old and true, 
“The best of friends must part"— 
And so, Dear Friend, I part from you, 
Tbo’ sorry to my heart 1 
Sweet has thy counsel always been, 
Tby company and looks; 
And often, for a chat with thee, 
I’ve laid aside my books. 
“A friend In need's a friend Indeed"— 
And T have found thee such; 
And of thy many favors, now, 
I cannot say too much. 
Thy manner always pleasing, too, 
Adorned with every grace, 
And always so obliging, kind. 
To suit my very case. 
Did I Boras information need? 
’Twite always well supplied, 
And found to be quite honest, too. 
When practiced, proved, and tried. 
Sometimes on thy arrival, true, 
I might be rather sad; 
But then, thy pleasant tidings came 
To cheer ami muke mo glad I 
Thy “witand wisdom,” too, Indeed, 
Would often mirth provoke; 
For no one had a better knack 
To crack a timely joke. 
But If too serious for thy fhn. 
My ease thou still couldst reach, 
And, kind and sympathetic still, 
A word In season preach. 
If troubles e’er beset my mind, 
And doubt for dally bread. 
Thy good advice aroused mo up, 
And made me “go ahead,” 
Till doubts and fears were vanished quite, 
And joy and comfort came; 
Then, for my want of energy, 
I’d almost blush for shame. 
Thy liberal favors shown to me 
Deserve a rich return. 
To help thee on thy mission good, 
Thy lamp to trim and bum, 
To light the darksome vision more 
Of many In thy way, 
And by thy kindly aid to still 
Prevent their going astray. 
But I can only thank thee, friend, 
And wish thee well indeed, • 
And for tby progress through the world. 
Can only say, “God speed!” 
Thy welcome to ray humble cot. 
Would never he denied, 
Could I but there, as I would wish. 
Thy needed fare provide. 
But since 1 must deny myself, 
Thy pleasant face to view, 
Excuse me, and accept my wish, 
Adieu, my Trend, adieu 1 
Dec. 17th, I860. 
matron, whose education and social qualities are 
superior, she says: — “She is very energetic in 
the cause of benevolence, and it is only because 
she wears short ekirte and warm, coarse gloves, 
that she does not receive the attention she mer¬ 
its from fashion’s votaries.” What a comment 
on the parvenus, moneyed aristocracy of this fast 
age, when fashion and extravagance extinguish 
the virtues taught by early poverty, leaving only 
a self-indulgent vulgarity and insensibility in 
their place. For such people high social qualities 
have no charm, and benevolence is foolishness, 
January, 1867. lxxvt. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
GOSSIP. 
In small towns there is great temptation, from 
the dullness of the surroundings, to indulge in 
the peculiar habit of gossiping. With no earthly 
business of their own, the quiet-loving old 
women have no other excitement than the lis¬ 
tening to “old wives’ fables,” and expressing 
their mutual surprise at the follies of the young 
and the perversities of the old. Their dear souls 
arc grieved at the shocking immorality of those 
youth who do not woo their true loves with 
quotations from the Scriptures, or strive to resist 
“ the sweet influences ol the Pleiades or loose the 
fba&iag. 
after. 
BY GEORGH COOPER, 
After the shower, the tranquil enn } 
After the snow, the emerald leaves ; 
Silver stars when the day is done; 
After the harveat, golden sheaves. 
After the clonda, the violet sky; 
After the tempest, the lull of waves;. 
Quiet woods when the winds go by; 
After the bstilo, peaccfhl graves. 
After the knell, the wedding bells; 
After the bud, the radiant rose; 
Joyful greetings from sad taro wells; 
After our weeping, sweet reposo.’ 
After the burden, the blissful meed; 
After the flight, the downy nest; 
After the farrow, the waking seed; 
After the shadowy river—rest I 
Written fo? Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
WHITTEN UPON THE BOOKS. 
You have all doubtless read about tbo boys at 
bands of Orion,” the gist of whose reckless logic the Natural Bridge in Virginia carving their 
irt If f.hf> mnnn itnrl Utfrpfl i r\ Kl> rtorann - n _ . ’ J 
is, “ If the moon and stars were never to be 
seen, why then were they made so beantiful that 
the language of the poet cannot portray their 
loveliness ?” The degeneracy of the times has 
been a constant theme among these superannu¬ 
ated remains of former ages since old Ulysses 
boasted the pristine hardihood of ancestors who 
fought the wild beasts of the mountain for want 
of men to match their strength, and sorrowed 
that “ he saw not such men now, nor ever yet 
6hall see,” 
These antiquated drones of humanity never 
tire ol humming the laziness of the present. 
Perhaps, were it not for that optical defect peon- 
liar to the old, they might at last discover the 
fault was much nearer than they had before im¬ 
agined. As in “ Paradise Lost,” 8atan exclaims 
“ Which way J fly is hell; myself am hell,”—even 
so they would find that to fly stupidity were to 
escape themselves. I once knew one of the 
prettiest places iu the world, which was like a 
nettle-bed, just because it was infested—yes, in¬ 
fested,—by those whom Burns characterizes as 
“ High, exalted, virtuous dames, 
Ty’d np In godly laces.” 
No one expresses much .sorrow at leaving the 
place, and most are openly jubilant 
Ah! Mr. Editor, this “venerable core” pre¬ 
sent themselves to my imagination in the form 
of ancient frogs in white starched caps, and 
conscientious ’kerchiefs. H. u. v. 
GRAY’S ELEGY. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
MAKE HOME PLEASANT FOB YOUTH 
Under this beading Mary Vinton writes a 
capital article iu a late Rural —short, pithy and 
graphic, as all articles should bo when written 
for the richly endowed columns of the Rural. 
She very properly urges well-to-do farmers, not 
to restrict their children to the homely life and 
scanty privileges, of dress and schooling, which 
stem necessity had imposed on their own early 
life. But there is a medium in all things, and at 
this tiiycfof prosperity among form era how often 
we see parents transcend the line of safe prece 
dents by too much ill-timed Indulgence to their 
children; how many mothers arc working them¬ 
selves into the grave that their daughters may 
keep fair hands, dress in the top of the fashion 
daily, dissipate their leisure hoars with sensa¬ 
tional reading, which does much to weaken, bnt 
nothing to strengthen the mind ? 
Thu following reference to “Gray’s Elegy” 
was made by the Earl of Carlisle, in a recent 
speech. The latest American edition of Gray’s 
writings has just, been published by Sever & 
Francis of Cambridge: 
“We are always glad to have our own judg¬ 
ments assisted by the thoughts and doings of 
eminent men; and these acquire a more impress¬ 
ive and thrilling interest if they have been ex¬ 
pressed shortly before the close of their lives. 
Let me present you with two tributes paid to 
tbe Elegy of Gray at. the. end of two very varied 
historical careers, with just more than ft century 
Intervening between them. Wc are informed, 
upon what appears to be sollicicnt authority, 
that on the night before the capture of Quebec— 
which of all the single passages in the long cat¬ 
alogue ol the British glories was perhaps the 
most romantic in its incidents, and the most 
decisive in its consequences —Gen, Wolfe, with 
his small band of soldiers, was being rowed up 
past the hostile ramparts, and between the steep 
elilTs which line the St. Lawrence, and there and 
then, in the stillness of that dark summer night, 
and on the eve of his glorious victory and im¬ 
mortal death, he repeated to those around him 
egos as themselves, will eclij.se them in point of hcr htlsband ( a John Cleyton,) in the 18th Mis 
Then the sons, instead of being taught to love BOme °* the stanzas of the Elegy, and then said, 
intelligence. Bnt I would ask, in the name of 
all .that is sensible, If woman was created free 
and equal with the “ lords of creation,” why she 
must be governed by laws which she has no 
voice in making 1 For one reason why she 
should not vote, he states that “wives would 
vote as do their husbands, and children as their 
lathers,” thereby increasing the labor at the 
polls. What a labor-saving machine he must 
be! II such is the case, then why have the sons 
vote as long as tho fathers are living to repre- 
souri cavalry, and fought for two years as a cav¬ 
alryman in our armies. She. fought under Grant, 
Sheridan and Rosccranz. She was in the battles 
of Shiloh, or Pittsburg Landing, and Stone 
River, and at the latter battle hcr husband was 
killed and Bhe severely wounded. Her sex be¬ 
came known and she was discharged the service. 
She has married since, and is now endeavoring 
to get the pay due her when discharged, bnt 
there is no law which would authorize her pay¬ 
ment, females not being recognized by law as 
sent them ? Why not save a still greateramount soldiers. Mrs. Sigel’s appearance and manners 
ot time aud labor? But “mighty man,” as he oann °t he said to be very prepossessing. Bhe 
is (and I would beg pardon for the audacity of has evidently seen hard service in camp or else- 
thc remark,) he has committed an absurdity by "here, and has contracted all tho radc airs, atti- 
going to extremes. Immediately she must don tude8 and manners of a man. 8he wears a Scotch 
the never failing “trousers,” and wield the maul, ca P> rocked on one side of hcr head, chews 
ax <fcc., as u recompense for the right of “ equal tobacco, smokes, and swears like a very trooper, 
suffrage,” while the most pusillanimous, irisig- 88 pho claims to be. She is accompanied by her 
nificant dandy has an unquestioned right to cast I ,rC6Cnt husband. Both are very poor, and have 
and respect the farmer’s calling, and to bo so 
educated as to make the farmer’s life both re¬ 
spectably progressive and prosperous, are early 
taught how much more easy and profitable it 
is to be a merchant, a lawyer, or u doctor, Gian 
a farmer who lives by hard work alone. “ Any¬ 
body can plant corn," says Farmer Hiogins, 
“but my John has had too much oxpendod in 
liis education to make a farmer of him .” Then 
the mother says, “ My girls ain’t strong enough 
for farmers’ wives ; and as they are good-looking 
and dress well, if they are only accomplished 
enough they may yet both of them get rich hus¬ 
bands,—who knows ? ” 
Mary Vinton is right; the sons and daugh¬ 
ters of farmers should be allowed every reasona¬ 
ble privilege of education, dress, comfortable, 
well-furnished rooms, a library of literary and 
scientific books, periodicals, &c., to make firm 
life both agreeable and truly instructive. Under 
such influences the labors of the farm would no 
“Well, gentlemen, I hud rather be tbe anthorof UWir uuw waiuugior me just oeyonu. 
that poem Gian take Quebec.” I pass on to my * 6 * uud b Y those grave-mounds, beneath 
more recent instance. Some time ago the great 1,1 rC51,60 1 
American statesman, Mr. Webster, was lying " C *Y *° tbum Bort, y* * 001110 nearer, come nearer,’ ” 
upon his death-bod. * * # Even in tho iu- and I feel the answer in my heart, “ Nearer me 
terval of severe pain, even in tho languor of n °w thau in days that are flown." Here, too, 
names upon the massive abutment of that great 
monument of a higher power. Kuifo in hand, 
they draw themselves np and cut their namc 3 
above those of many full-grown men who have 
left their autographs upon this solid tablet. But 
one, more ambitions than tho rest, spying above 
him a name that lias a monument far moro en¬ 
during than brass or marble, deeply graven upon 
the American heart, he determined to write his 
name by the side of our Washington. On he 
climbs until he is above ail other names upon 
the rock, and there he carves his own in large 
capitals. But he is not satisfied, and goes on 
cutting his name in larger letters at every step, 
unlil he finds ho cannot descend and must keep 
on to the renter of the arch. His blade is al¬ 
most worn out. No longer able to grasp it, he 
lets it fall from his nerveless hand, and it strikes 
upon tho rocks bolow. What is to be done.? 
He is at the height of a thousand feet, hanging 
over an awful abyss, almost into eternity. Help 
has been summoned; and a man, leaning far 
over the bridge, lowers a rope. Tho tainting lad 
slips his arms through the noose, and in another 
moment the cry "He is eafel” resounds from 
the top of the bridge and Girougli the rocky 
gorge. 
Wc are each carving our names upon the rocks 
which form the great bridge that spans the gulf 
between this world and the next. Let them be 
graven in living characters, emblazoned by noble. 
deeds. Feeling, as did the youth at. the Natural 
Bridge, that all help must come from above, let 
us climb steadily, ever looking forward, bo live 
that our names may be written upon loving 
hearts in letters of gold, written for eternity iu 
the Book of Life; and, whon wearied with life’s 
labors, we can climb no farther “ God will open 
a door from above and a voice will call: * Come 
up hither.’ ” 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
GOD'S-ACRE. 
“ This Is the field and aero of onr God,” 
And is indeed a blessed spot, though tar too 
many make it otherwise,—the last earthly rest¬ 
ing place of so many dear friends. All have 
some treasure buried here; for 
" There is no fireside, howsoo’er defended, 
But has one vacant chair.” 
Here the aged pilgrim, weary and wayworn, 
lies down to sleep after “life’s fitful fever;” 
and perhaps by bis side is laid the little child,— 
an angel lent to 6ome lone household, — but 
soon, too pure for earth, called home, where 
“ The shrouu shall he woven do never,** 
a slender cord stretching across the durk, cold 
stream, a ray of light to lead some wanderer to 
the portal ofligbt. I have treasures buried here. 
There are dear ones waiting for me just beyond. 
As I stand by those grave - mounds, beneath 
which they rest so quietly, 1 
“ Cry to them softly, ‘ coino nearer, come nearer,’ ” 
and I feel the answer in my heart, “ Nearer me 
his vote, an article which perhaps a glass of beon compelled to sleep in tho station-house longer be a toilsome, unitellcctnal drudgery, but 
whisky would purchase. It mutters not to this tvcr Y ni £ ht they have, been in Washington. Al- ono continued interesting experiment, bringing 
mighty man that woman has not by nature been 
endowed with sufficient strength for such toil. 
If she. will he so presuming and absurd us to 
wish to have a voice in the laws by which she is 
governed, she must pay the penalty, and then ho 
will not complain. Considerate mint Then will 
he be content to enter the nursery, wash the 
dishes and household linen, &e., &?, Would this 
“lord of creation” condescend to such menial 
toil with his massive intellect? Never! Beg¬ 
ging pardon for thus presuming to question the 
views of so important a personage, I am, with 
profound respect, Minnie W. Edgeuton. 
Watson, Allegan Co.. Mich., 1867. 
Mr. Editor :—Some who have a strong pro¬ 
pensity for scribbling, and an earnest desire to 
make some kind of a 6how in the world, and 
together, Mrs. Sigel, who bears traces of having l ’ otb money to the pocket and true science to 
once been in better condition — once even good 
looking—presents a sad illustration of the effects 
of a woman stepping out of her natural sphere 
to enter upon a career entirely foreign to the 
design of her creation. A friend asks:—“ Would 
she not be a valuable subject for the study of the 
advocatcsoi what is called ‘ Womaa’sRights?’ ” 
-- « ♦ -- 
A touxo lady in Wisconsin brought a suit for 
breach of promise against a male correspondent, 
and on the trial introduced several common¬ 
place letters on various topics to sustain her 
case, on tho ground that the letters were signed, 
“.Ever yours." How could he be a<er hers un¬ 
less he intended to marry her ? was Gic logical 
conclusion of the unsophisticated damsel; but the 
jury, not seeing it iu that light, non-suited her 
the mind. All tho agricultural chomista, with 
I.iebto at their head, have designated Gie farm 
as Nature’s grand Laboratory, and the practical 
farmer who studies and avails himself of Nature’s 
daily lessons is a better practical chemist of tho 
soil and its capabilities than many a learned pro¬ 
fessor. Let every tanner's 6on and daughter 
reflect that to make their calling respectable it 
is only necessary to make themselves intrinsic¬ 
ally worthy of respect. 
It is 8 great blessing to the farmer’s lamily 
that with so many privileges of literaturo and 
science on the farm, they are so far aloof from 
the besotGng struggle of pride with poverty in 
the town. I road a letter from a young woman 
decaying nature, even amidst the appropriate 
and exalted topics of Christian penitence and 
hope, there was a further craving of the dying 
man yet unsatisfied. We arc told that he was 
heard to repeat somewhat indistinctly the words, 
“ Poet, poetry—Gray, Gray.” His son repeated 
the first line of the Elegy— 
“ The curfew tolls tho knell of parting day." 
“That's it, that’s it! ” exclaimed Mr. Webster. 
The book was brought, and some stanzas were 
read, which seemed to give him pleasure. Surely 
it is not a slight thing to have satisfied, so fur as 
the world they were about to leave was con¬ 
cerned, tho latest aspirations of such a hero as 
Wolfe and such a statesman as Webster! ” 
GREAT MEN, 
Homer was a beggar; Plautus turned a mill; 
Terenco was a slave; Boethius died in jail; Paul 
Borghese had fourteen pounds trades, yet starved 
with them pil; Tasso was often distressed for a 
few shillings; Cervantes died of hunger; Cam- 
oens, the writer of the “Lusiud,” ended his days 
in an almshouse, aud Vangelas left his body to 
the surgeons to help pay bis debts. In Eng¬ 
land Bacon lived a life of meanness and distress; 
Sir Walter Raleigh died on the scaffold; Spenser 
died in want; Milton sold his copyright of “ Par- 
wlien my “ snttimons comes,” shall I Uo down 
at. last, Aud, though no costly monument may 
rise above my grave, may 60 inc loving hand 
plant there the flowers I so loved in life,—bright 
flowers,—“ God’s smUes,” as one has said, day- 
stars that look upward to a brighter, bettor land, 
pointing to where the spirit has gone. 
“ Blessed is the turf, serenely blessed, 
Where throbbing hearts may sink to rest; 
Where life’s long journey turns to sleep, 
Nor ever pilgrims wake to weep." 
“ Cloudy.” 
DISCOURAGED BECAUSE OF THE WAY. 
"We doubt not that there will be seasons, even 
in the happiest Christian pilgrimage, when 
the soul will be “discouraged because ol the 
way.” When difficulties, which wc thought had 
passed over, will ro-appear; when temptations, 
which we hoped had been forever vanquished, 
will again rise up against us; when 6ins, which 
we trusted we had forsaken will once more mar 
our path; and these things wiB lead oh to feel a 
deep seusaGon of despondency; we shall he 
tempted to think that God cannot pardon delin¬ 
quencies so frequent and unprovoked, and that 
we shall certainly perish on tho journey, and 
never arrive at that journey's blissful end. Let 
us be careful that such feelings lead os not into 
affiso Lost” for £15, and died iu obscurity; temptation; that they do not close oui* eyes aud 
Dryden Uvcd in poverty and distress; Otway 
perished of hunger; Lee died in the streets; 
Steele was in perpetual warfare with the bailiffs; 
the other day, who lives in asommercial city, on Goldsmith’s “ Vicar of Wakefield ” was sold lor 
the wave of high feshion. Speaking of an older a trifle, to save liini from the grasp of the law. 
our heads against the infinity of God’s mercy iu 
Christ Jesns.— Blunt. 
The soul, by an instinct stronger than reason, 
ever associates beauty with truth. 
