courteous and kind-hearted and was somewhat 
noted for hia generous treatment of young and 
unknown authors in whom he discovered indi¬ 
cations of literary ability. 
Written for Moore'a Rural New-Yorker 
HOMESICKNESS. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
WE WAIT THE BLESSED THOUSAND YEARS 
What is it—of how many ingredients is it 
composed? — can you tell, Rcual readers' 1 
Were you ever homesick, away from home and 
friends, engaged, perhaps, in some distasteful 
work, and (hen feel that sickening, overpower¬ 
ing sensation come over you ? Did you care 
whether you lived or died at that period ? Re¬ 
turned soldiers, I ask of you, is there, can there 
he, a sickness equal to this soul-dying feeling? 
You have suffered Immensely on the battle-field, 
starvation has stared you in the face—a shat¬ 
tered limb has been your reward, perhaps, for 
service nobly done—hut is^dl this in real, physi¬ 
cal pain, an cquai to the overpowering feeling 
that attacks both mind und body when away 
from the loved best of earth? VVill some one 
Of the Rural’ s contributors tell us wherein this 
sickncsB ceuters—in the heart, mind, body, or 
in all, und of what it Is composed V fi. 9. 0. 
LcRoy, N. Y., 1807. 
RETROSPECTIVE 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker 
SOLITUDE. 
W p. wait the JSlcesod Thousand Years I 
The Present, with Its hopes and fears, 
Its longings all unsatisfied. 
Looks through the portal opening wide 
To let the Future in, and waits 
Its coming through the portal-gates. 
O Future! near, and yet so far — 
Where shines llie bright miUenial star — 
Haste thy approach i The days are long 
Tilt Right shall triumph over Wrong, 
Till Morning chsso away the Night, 
\ntl faith he verified In Bight 1 
We wait the blessed Thousand Years! 
Dim, undefined, ae through our tears 
We forward look, there seems to rise 
A newer earth, with brighter skies 
Than those which beam urewhile on this, 
Whore hope attains to fullest bliss; 
Where nil the fret, the din and moil, 
That round these weary days of toll, 
Hhall find oomploU’St recompense; 
Where, unrestrained, onr soul and sense 
Shall feed and ripen on the food 
CHoanod from the fields of perfect good; 
Whore every pampered Inst shall be 
Unknown, and man bo fnlly free; 
Whore buds of promise know no blight. 
And pure dosin' bring* pure delight; 
Where all discordant noises cease, 
And only echo songs of peace 1 
Blest Thousand A'ears 1 O righteous Goo, 
The thorny paths the world lias trod 
Are wearying Its heart and strength— 
Methinks they weary Tlieo, at length! 
Bring, thou, the paths that, lead orcwhilc 
Through blooms which hide no secret guile t 
Wo wait the blessed Thousand Years! 
Wc wait and labor. 13c who hears 
A people's prayer for noblor things, 
Will give the good time swifter wings; 
While that for which wo long and wait 
Our faith and works may auto-datol 
Albany, N. Y., Jan., 1807. 
Swift though tbo toot-fall of midnight advances, 
Lot ns linger a while on tho stains — 
Nottiing to witness our wordn and onr glances 
But the nstrsi that over us flaree. 
Ah, how io contrast with gloomy November 
Tho gleam of their brilliance appears i 
You may forge t them, but I shall remember — 
Remember those glance* for years. 
Press but the 1 ngers for ueexfiews assurance, 
Touch the lips for a token of truth — 
Ah, hew it gird* for heroic endurance 
The pitiful weakness of youth! 
Bo rises purpose that never shall clumber, 
So rings Its brave song In my oars; 
You may forget them, but I roust remember — 
Remember these moments for years. 
What though the spirit be robbed of its buoysnee, 
Still wrapped In the cumbersome clay; 
What though the wear of inoessant annoyance 
Shall fritter endeavor away, 
Turn the fair June into dull-eyod December, 
Drown limitation In tears;— 
You may forget them, but I shall remember — 
Remember these moments for yeors. 
Even as now 1 pass out of the portal. 
To the slumberous silence of night, 
Bo If Remembrance, immured but immortal, 
From the dwelling of earth take hor flight, 
Then, when the ashes of life’s falling ember 
Grow ghastly with flickering foam, 
You may forget them when I shall reinembor 
Those moments surviving the years. 
L 71/s Galaxy. 
The natural idea of solitude, as conveyed by 
language, la a place whore there is no human 
society. Writera often speak of d reary solitude* 
meaning the same thing; but real solitude is 
some thing more than this,—o loneliness of spirit 
which probably every person feels at time*. 
Some persons of a refined and cultivated nature 
are not solitary when alone with Natnre; a thou¬ 
sand joyous voices speak to them tn a language 
they can interpret, and they never enjoy better 
and purer companionship than on such occa¬ 
sions, 
find society in their own thoughts 
Lv a wagon made of w illow 
Wheeled I once a little maiden; 
Ringlets shining on the pillow— 
Rolling homewards, treasure laden. 
Like, a boat upon the billow. 
Five years fled; oh, bow I mlasod her 
When I left the village school f 
But she said she'd be my Bister, 
As we lingered by the pnol; 
And J passionately kissed her. 
Five more fleeting years renew it: 
Little wagon made of willow—- 
Loving eye* are bent to view it, 
Loving hands adjust the pillow, 
And we've fitted rockers to It * 
Others, mom meditative than practical, 
A hundred 
varied themes give them subjects for entertain¬ 
ing and profitable musing. They are, in u meas¬ 
ure, independent of the outer world for enjoy 
ment. To such minds tho world of books owee 
some of it* richest treasures, in tho shape of 
beautiful thoughts, clothed in appropriate lan¬ 
guage. Some persona, on the contrary, never 
enjoy anything unless It is In a crowd, and it ia 
usually necessary for them to change their places 
of residence, and thoir friends often, in on!or to 
be satisfied. They are usually solitary on rainy 
days. Those whose Uvoa arc mainly of the 
affections arc not apt to loyc solitude. They 
long lor the society of those they love. The 
world was made, in their estimation of it, to 
hold their idols. But there are times and places 
when every person will be more Inclined to foil 
solitary than at others. Many a one may, while 
taking a lonely walk to church, on a bright Sab- 
bath morning, feel the companionship of nature 
fill his heart with love to (ion and man, while 
perhaps the same person, walking the. crowded 
streets of a city, jostled hy the crowd, every in¬ 
dividual of whom is unknown to him, will fool 
louely indeed. Good health, cheerfulness, In- 
wcll balanced mind, arc good pro- 
AN INDICTMENT 
ANGLING FOR HEARTS 
Low -brow ed woman, tliat stole my love! 
Fairer than I — lose true; 
You fooled him first with your wily tongue 
And your eyes’ deceitful blue. 
You looked in his, till yota made him swear 
Ills first love was all a dream; 
While you let him toy with your yellow hair. 
And bask iu your smile’s false gleam. 
Well-a-day for your cye6 bo bright I 
Weeping has made mine dim; 
You would ernlle on, though he lay in ids grave— 
I could have died for him. 
A IVEY. SMITH A1TB K P. WILLIS. 
Fort the past two or three montiiB the item- 
bscrs liuve been trying their sharpest wits on 
announcements of tho collapse of crinoline. 
The supposed fact that the hoop-skirt has been 
deposed and tho female world is about to return 
to the statuesque drapery of the olden time, has 
been heralded with every possible variety of pun 
and comment. But it appears tliat the news vend¬ 
ers and humorists have been too fast. Crinoline 
is destined to a reduction, but not to abolition. 
A New York paper says;—“ No one who prome¬ 
nades Broadway now-a-days will doubt that the 
long-foretold, long-delayed ‘collapse ol crino¬ 
line’ has at. last come to pass. It is visible to 
the most carol ess observer, and has proof in onr 
most fashionable ladies us they ‘march along.’ 
Tho immense circumference of skirts and sweep 
f train that caine in vogue a dozen yearn ago, 
and have been expanding and lengthening ever 
since until recently, are now things of the past. 
In their stead masculiuo eyes are gratified by 
neat, trim dresses, at once moderate in size, 
gracefully brief, and pre-eminently piquant.' 1 
Thongh crinoline was so loudly and persistently 
decric’d and ridiculed, on its Introduction cloven 
years ago, probably there is not one man ol a 
thousand who would wish to have the institu¬ 
tion abolished. Tbo ladies, however, seem to 
be about equally divided on the question, many 
of them honestly confessing that, so far as con¬ 
venience is concerned, the broad skirts are a 
nuisance. 
Wh have received the announcements simulta¬ 
neously of the death of two men holdiug very 
similar positions in the world of letters on either 
side the Atlantic. Alexander Smith, theyouug 
Scottish poet, died In Edinburgh on tho Gth of 
January; and Nathnikl Pabkkr Willis died at 
“ldlewild,” on the Hudson, on the 20th. 
Mr. Smith won born In Kilmarnock, Dec. filet, 
1830, and consequently has closed fils short ca¬ 
reer at the early age of thirty-six, a time of life 
which seems especially latal to poets. He was 
intended for the church ; but as circumstances 
prevented him from entering that profession, he 
lollowed the business of his father, that ol a 
pattern designer for a lacc lactory. At the age 
of seventeen ho began to write poetry, und in 
1853 published his poem “ A Life Drama." In 
1854 he was appointed Secretary or the UmVOr 
sity of Erlinburg. Ho afterwards published, in 
connection with Sidney Dobell, "Sonnets of 
the War," “City Poems” ami "Edwin of Doi- 
d ustry, and a 
ventives of that vacant loneliness which op 
presses many; but a proper amount of congenial 
society is necessary to keep e veryone in a healthy 
frame of mind. ®- 0- D - 
Klkbom, Win 
Translated for Moore’s Rural Now-Yorker from the 
German of Krummacher. 
DEATH AM) SLEEP. 
GOOD FEELINGS 
In brotherly embrace the Angel of Sleep and 
the Angel of Death passed over, the earth. It 
was evening. They reclined on an eminence 
not far from the dwellings of men. A mournful 
stillncBB reigned all around. The evening bells 
in tho distant village ceased to sound. Calm 
and silent, ns Is their manner, both these benefi¬ 
cent genii of mankind lay in confiding embrace, 
;.nd already the night drew near. 
Then the Angel of Bleep arose from his mossy 
couch and scattered with a light hand the invisi¬ 
ble goods of slumber. The evening wind boro 
thorn to tho quiet habitations of the weary 
peasants. Now, swcetsloop encircled the inhabi¬ 
tant of tho rural cottage, from the aged who 
w a y<s with ft staff, to tbo infant in the cradle. 
The sick forgot their pain, mourners their sor¬ 
row and the indigent their caro. All eyes were 
closed In sleep. Now, idler having fulfilled his 
mission, the benevolent Angel of Slumber lay 
down again beside his sterner brother. When 
the morning dawn awakes,” cried he, with joy¬ 
ous innocence, "mankind will praise me an 
their friend and henel'uctorJ Oh, wiiat joy to do 
good unseen aud secretly! How happy is our 
m'malon as cood snirits. ilow beautiful our 
We know a blunt old fellow who sometimes 
hits tho nail on tho head more aptly than philos¬ 
ophers. lie once heard a man much praised for J 
u good feelings.” Everybody joined and said the 
man was possessed of excellent feelings. 
“ What lias ho don©?” asked the old genius. 
« Ho ia possessed of tho most benevolent foci 
ings,” was the reply. 
"What haa be done?” cried tbo old fellow 
again. 
By this time the company thought it necessary 
to show some of Ms favorite doings. They began 
to east about in their minds, but. tho old mau 
still shouted, " What has ha don*?” They owned 
they eonld not name anything in particular. 
" Yes,” answered the cynic, " you say that he 
is a man that hae good feelings. Now, gentle¬ 
men, let mete.ll you that there (ire people iu this 
world who get a good name simply on account 
of their feelings. You can’t tell one generous 
action they ever performed in their lives, but 
they can look and talk most benevolently. 1 
kuow a man in this town that you all would call 
a surly, rough, and unsuitable man, and yot he 
THE MARRIAGE LAW IN ITALY 
in Italy lia* had curious result*. It has been 
discovered that certain indies residing iu the 
sou them provinces, the widows of government 
officials, who, us hiieh, were Entitled to the re¬ 
ceipt of n pension, had contracted fresh matri¬ 
monial obligations without ceasing to make their 
usual half-yearly applications to the treasury. 
In due course the facts, or part of them, came 
to light, and tho payment was disputed. Tho 
ladles, however, Insisted that, as they were mar¬ 
ried simply by a priest, without conforming to 
the conditions of the law, which regards the civil 
contract only as binding, they w ere still, strictly 
speaking, widows, aud consequently entitled to 
draw tlielr allowances Os before. As no pro¬ 
vision had been made for such cases, the author¬ 
ities were compelled to submit, and the pensions 
i have been paid. 
Female Bculftokb. —When Harriet Hocmer 
wished to acquire a knowledge of anatomy pre¬ 
paratory to becoming a sculptor, the Boston 
Medical Society were shocked by her father’s 
request to have her attend their lectures. It 
seemed to them a gross Impropriety for women 
to be thus inquiring into tho structure of the 
human frame. The freer West granted to Mies 
llosmer what the East denied. She hits taken u 
high aud honorable place among the artists iu 
Rome, and is notone whit the less a lady for being 
u sculptor. The career which she opened has be¬ 
come. so thronged with competitors that female 
sculptors have ceased to be n novelty. 
One would naturally suppose that of Ml species 
of composition, history should be tho most reli¬ 
able, the most straightforward and simple. Wc 
kuow that science Is progressive, that it arises 
from an infinite scries of experiments, many of 
which reverse or nullify the conclusions drawn 
from former ones 
bo that the text-books of 
twenty years ago may be worthless to-day. We 
know that the poetry of all ages has sprung 
almost wholly from the fancies-of the poets, and 
varies with their varying moods. But history 
has always formed the staple of what Staid peo¬ 
ple call " solid reading;” und many of them, 
with inherited prejudices against fiction, dis¬ 
courage all reading which is not of the nature ol 
history orthography. These advocates of “ solid 
reading” must be rather taken aback by some ot 
the results of late researches and comparisons in 
history. Not only has it been proved that great 
facte have been systematically falsified, lmt many 
of the romantic episodes und legends turn out to 
he ns purely fictitious as the highest wrought 
passages of a sensation novel. Tho last of these 
dtecnchuntmcTite has come from a collation of 
authorities and comparison of dates on tin story 
of Pocahontas saving the liie of Captain John 
Smith. That touching anecdote, which has 
been the chief topic of interest in every school¬ 
boy’s first lesson iu American history, and which 
has given him his first idea of what is ordinarily 
called romance, must be completely blotted out. 
A Massachusetts antiquarian, Mr. C'has. Deane, 
has proved that the whole story w as invented by 
Smith to bring himself into notice, after Poca¬ 
hontas liuu been converted to tho Christian 
faith, married Rolfe, and visited England, where 
she was so warmly received and attracted so 
much attention. 
Naturalness.— Whenever you see a man or 
woman not afraid to betray some faults, you 
may be assured they have a dozen times more 
virtues veiled to counterbalance them. Fault¬ 
less and uol faulty folks are most to be 
dreaded, ns at heart they are more dangerous 
and despicable. Tho policy of hypocrisy, as 
practiced in the parlor and in public, by this or 
that description of person, of either sex, influ¬ 
encing them to bo so sage or sober, wheu they 
aro simply silly or insipid, is euough to sicken 
a whole, college of physicians. Give us a woman 
or gi^l who dreads not to do an act as hor free 
heart, dictates, without the fear that this or that 
upstart may laugh or talk about her. 
_ * i L - - 
Titb Business Man.— It. was the memorable ! 
petition of a goodly banker, as morning by morn 
inc. ho went tb his place of business, “ Lord, 
give mo the faith of Abraham, tho wisdom ol 
Solomon, and the patience of Job.” Ye trades¬ 
men—ye men of merchandise—ye men who have 
to labor In the world for a maintenance, and yot 
have lio sympathy with its evil pursuits, its un¬ 
principled practices, its misnamed pleasures — 
there is a pattern prayer for you. Love is the 
law ol the universe—emanating from Gon, bind¬ 
ing myriad worlds together in tho boundless 
space, aud harmonizing till their motions with¬ 
out conflict. 
a volume entitled " Lotte ra from Under a 
idge.” In 1839 ho went to Now York to edit 
. a Corsair,” a abort-lived literary journal, aud 
the same year he went to England, where he 
' Travel” and two dra- 
Tortossu, the Usurer,” 
On his return to Amer- 
he established, In 1844, in New York, a daily 
Evening Mirror,” of widen 
Morris wan associate editor. But the death of 
his who soon after, and his own holing health, 
induoed him to go again to England, where he j 
published a collection of Magazine articles uuder 
tho title of “ Dashes at. Lite with a Free Pencil.” 
He returned to New York io 184(3, and published 
a complete edition of bin works, and iu the same 
year married ft daughter of Hon. Joseph Gkin- 
jtell of New Bedford, in conjunction again 
with Morris, In* began the publication of the 
"Home Journal,” a weekly paper, which still 
survives, and to which Willis contributed to 
the last. Besides tho books already mentioned, 
ho published the followingPeople 1 Have 
Met,” “ Life Here and Them,” “ Hurry-graphs,” 
•'Life oi Jenny Lind,” "Fun Jottings,” "A 
Health Trip to the Tropics,” "A Summer Cruise 
in the Mediterranean,” “Famous Persons and 
Places,” "Out Doore at ldlewild,” "Tho Rag 
Bag,” “Paul Fane,” and "Tho Convalescent.” 
Willis dealt almost exclusively in the elogan- 
eios of literature; aud though his writings can¬ 
not bo classed very high, they are among the 
beat of their kind. Uis prose, which is gcnenvliy 
vivacious and sparkling, is altogether better than 
lxis poetry, which sounds too much like foppery 
iu the nulpit. As a man, he was eminently 
A GOOD LIFE. 
It Is a good fife, within and without, that 
makes us fitting instruments for the divine 
hand, or, as wo sometimes express it, polished 
shafts iu God’s quiver. A good life is beautifuh 
It holdH the observer’s eye as with a charm. It 
begote a disposition to pry into its sources. It 
raises the wonder how men can live so nobly, 
and excites the wish, the longing to be goo<L 
How many thousands upon thousands have been 
thus drawn to Christ? To them tho crucified 
and risen Christ was nothing. They knew him 
not. But they have seen his representatives, 
and have learned irom whence the divine comes 
to man. They would be like their friend, and 
that Wend tellB them that ho has his life lrom 
another; that his goodness is only the semblance 
and reflection of another’s; that none is truly 
■mod save one. And besides this fitness, as of a 
magnet, to draw to Christ-this being a thing 
of beauty to win for Him —he becomes by a 
rrood life a fitting instrument for aggression, 
fie who can challenge the confidence of liis fel¬ 
lows has a license to improve and warn. He 
whoso lift, is hid with Christ in God is moved to 
industry by his seal for God. Repulse will not 
dishearten, nor disappointment chill him. But 
let us remember a good life ia more than a steady 
one, more than a quiet and inoffensive one. It 
Ls an inward force oi goodness, seeking expres¬ 
sion in work. 
Conversion without conviction is uo better 
than conviction without conversion. 
info of no great merit, 
and " Bianca Visi 
ica 
paper called the 
Bonnets.— If it were possible to govern such 
matters by the ordinary rules of taste aud com¬ 
mon sense, instead of by unaccountable freaks 
of fashion, millinery would be altogether dis¬ 
carded in the winter and the bead covered with 
a hood, which, by the way, might give as much 
opportunity for the display of taste in variations 
and adornments as the present wire aud lacc af¬ 
fairs. For summer wear, however, Ihc email, 
triangular bonnet, which has been so much ricii- 
How to Prosper.— 1. Rise eorly; be* 
end tho day with God, always. 
2. Bo active; whatever you imdortak 
it —drive it through, with your might 
falter. 
3. Mind your own business. Some pc< 
tev-fere, dabble in other men’s matters. : 
Virtue. —Virtue i* not a mushroom that 
gpringeth up of itself iu one night, when we aro 
asleep or regard it not, hut a delicate plant that 
groweth slowly and tenderly, needing much 
pains to cultivate it. Neither Is vice a spirit 
that will be conjured away with a charm, slain 
by a single blow, or dispatched by ouc stab. 
Who, then, will be so foolish as to leave the 
eradicating ol vice, and the planting of virtue in 
its place, for a few years or weeks ? Yet he- who 
procrastinates his repentance and amendment 
grossly does so; with liis eyes open, ho abridges 
the time allotted for Die longest and most im¬ 
portant work ho has to perform ; he is a fool.— 
Barrow. 
cnled, is undoubtedly at least an approximation 
to the true idea. 
Small Things.—I t small streams are not aoie 
to bear great ships or yield great treasures, they 
may at least water some drooping flower; if not 
by the fireside at home, by the wayside in life’s 
pathway. 
__ » *♦-- 
Teeth always fits. It is always congruous and 
agrees with itself. Every truth iu die universe 
also agrees with all others. 
Fix) eat. apostles, that in dewy splendor weep 
without woo, aud blush without a orime. 
A conviction of one’s own inferiority soon 
■ompts a thorough search into the weaknesses 
the superior. There is nothing that theBlave 
loner learns than the faults of the master. 
A Constantinople journal announces the 
birth of a daughter to the Sultan, and states that 
she is to bear the name of tne Princess Eminee. 
