are kind to him, and the sentiment increases 
with his growth. Whether the object be a toy, 
a book, or a friend, he loves it. The miser loves 
gold, and gives up everything else that he may 
The true scholar 
It is decided now that the summer bonnets 
will be very small; the bonnets for dress and re¬ 
ception purposes are really smaller than ever, 
very generally of the fanchon shape. They are 
merely little triangles of lace or white crape, laid 
in fine folds, and trimmed with a mauve or blue 
velvet bandeau, a little fine blonde, a white rose¬ 
bud, and two or three small bronze leaves. 
Dresses are still cut very narrow, and with 
long trains; four yards and a half is considered 
Builiclently wide round the bottom for a trained 
dress, and three and a half for a short dress. 
Dresses, not full gored, are gathered at the 
back. We have said several times, and repeat 
again, the underskirt must either be gored or 
made very narrow at the top, and with a deep 
flounce at the bottom; this is essential to the 
good appearance of the dress.” 
■Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
AFTER THE STORM. 
possess the shining treasure, 
loves his books, and spends many a happy hour 
with them. The lover of Nature spends hours 
of uninterrupted pleasure and delight amid flow¬ 
ers which his kind mother has strewn around 
him, and at autumn walks far away in the forest, 
" as the leaves, all stained with crimson, golden- 
flecked, and trimmed with purple," fall In rich 
profusion, each has for him a lesson. We love 
our friends, and we shed bitter tears when we 
see them suffer, and our hearts are torn with an¬ 
guish when we lose them by death, or when 
they turn coldly from ns. If these earthly ties 
are so strong, may they not be types of the 
greater love which we should bear to the Giver 
of all good. 
Something to hope for is another imperative 
want, and a source of strength and persistence. 
Each one of us is looking for some good to come. 
The student looks forward to the time when he 
shall be called one of earth's learned men. The 
aspirant after fame is working and waiting for 
hall have won a name that 
THE MOTHER'S DAY-DREAM 
Earth has each year her resurrection-day, 
When the epring stire within her, and the powers 
Of life revive; the quiet autumn hours, 
Ere the rongh winter drives their warmth away, 
Wear pleasant likeness of returning May; 
Oft In the soul, where all was dry and bare, 
Fount* of fresh, joy spring up, and heavenly air 
Plays round it, while along its desert way 
Blossoms bright flowers of hope, and dull despair 
Melts like aclond:—and onrdear Christ has said, 
TheTe is a resurrection of the dead; 
Then may th’ immortal spirit yet repair 
The freshness and the grace that here had fled, 
And in new strength and heauty flourish there. 
But as a ship, when all the winds are gone, 
Hangs idly in mid-ocean, so the soul 
Helplessly drifting hears the waters roil. 
While in the heaven the breeze of hope dies down. 
And memory darkene round, and from the lone 
Vast sea dim shapes arise, and shadowy fears 
Cling like damp mists, and the long track of years 
(Where once the brightness of the morning shone) 
Lies strewn with wrecks of that rich argosy 
With which the bark sailed freighted to explore 
The unknown deep, and distant gleaming'shore— 
Keen, soaring hopes and aspirations high. 
Pare thoughts, and sunny fancies, and the store 
Of priceless gem9 from God's own treasury. 
But the still depths of the anreturning past 
Have buried more than blessings, nor alone 
Grief and regret blend with the wild waves’ moan 
Infinite yet not hopeless. In its vast 
And healing waters kindly Time hath cast 
Sorrows and sins, where In th’ eternal tide 
Heaves the full heart of God. and we confide. 
Not comfortless, to Him the First and Last, 
The secrets of our being —Lo! the face 
Of ocean, kissed by the descending breeze. 
Breaks into smiles, and long-lost melodies 
Vibrate from earth to heaven, and a fresh grace, 
New-born of hope, lies on the breathing seas— 
The far-off isles shine in the golden space. 
[Macmillan's Magazine. 
A mother sat at her sewing, 
But her brow was full of thought; 
The little one playing beside her 
Her own sweet mischief wrought■ 
A book on a chair lay near her: 
’Twa* open, I strove to see. 
At the old Greek artist's story, 
“ I paint for eternity." 
So I fancied all her dreaming; 
I watched her serious eye 
As the 'broidery dropped from her fingers, 
And she heaved a heartfelt sigh. 
She drew the little one nearer, 
And looked on the sunny face. 
Swept the bright carle from the open brow, 
And kissed it with loving grace. 
And she thought, “I, too, am an artist; 
My llfcwork here I see. 
This sweet, dear face, my hand must trace, 
I must paint for eternity. 
But how shall I blend the colors. 
How mingle the light and shade, 
Or arrange the weird surroundings 
The future has arrayed? 
For hand and heart together. 
Some grace shall add each day ; 
And, thus, shall her face grow lustrous, 
With beauty that cannot decay. 
My darling! God gul de my pencil 
And grant me the vision to see 
In the light of Ills love, without blemish or stain, 
In the coming eternity." 
Then the mother awoke from her day-dream, 
Her face grew bright again, 
And I knew her faith was strengthened 
By more than angel’s ken. 
Her fingers flew the faster 
As she sang a soft, low song; 
It seemed like a prayer, for the child so fair 
As it thrilled the air along. [Observer. 
Oh. golden glorious sunset 1 
Your rays, as they fall to-night, 
Can never know a fairer scene 
Than these fields so fresh and bright. 
Oh, golden glorious sunset 1 
You come with peace to me, 
But with darkness your glory will soon be met, 
Are shadows again In my heart to be ? 
Oh. golden glorious sunset 1 
You arc fading even now. 
But you carry sorrow with you 
And ease on aching brow. 
Oh, amber clouds of sunset 
Your glory now has gone, 
But you leave in place the twilight, 
And a heart free of sorrow and wrong. 
WOMEN EYES ON WOMEN 
The eyeing of women by woDjen is one of the 
most offensive manifestations of supercilious¬ 
ness now to be met with in society. Few ob¬ 
servant persons cun liave failed to notice the 
manner in which one woman, who is not per¬ 
fectly well-bred or perfectly kind-hearted, will 
eye over another woman who she thinks is not 
in such good society, and above all not at the 
lime being in so costly a dress as she herself is 
in. It Is done everywhere; at parties, at church, 
in the street. It iB done by women in all condi¬ 
tions of life. The very servant girls learn it of 
their mistresses. It is done In an instant. Who 
cannot recall hundreds of instances of that 
sweep of the eye which takes In at a glance the 
whole woman and what she has on, lrom top- 
knot to shoe-tie ? It cannot be a new fashion ol 
behavior; but the dally increasing preference of 
people to superiority, because they can afford to 
spend more money upon their backs than oth¬ 
ers can, makes It at once more common and 
more remarkable even than it was ten or fifteen 
years ago. 
Men are never guilty ol' it, or with such ex¬ 
treme rarity, and then in sneh feeble and small- 
soul ed specimens of their sex, that it may be set 
down as a sin not masculine, or at least epicene. 
But women of some sense, of some breeding, 
and even of some kindliness of nature, will thus 
endeavor to assert a superiority upon tlie mean¬ 
est of all pretences, and inflict a wound in a 
manner the most cowardly, because it cannot be 
resented, and admits of no retort. If they but 
knew how unlovely, bow positively offensive 
they make themselves In 60 doing, not only to 
their silent victims, but to every generous- 
hearted man who observes the maneuver, they 
would give up a triumph at once so mean and so 
cruel, which is obtained at such sacrifice on their 
part. No other evidence than this eyeing is 
needed, that a woman, whatever be her birth or 
breeding, has a small and vulgar soul. — The 
Galax I/. 
Written for Moore's Kurai New-Yorker, 
SUNSET. — JUNE 6TH. 
the time when he si 
shall be known and honored by future ages, and 
it is the hope of victory that enable* the soldier 
to stand at his post in times of the greatest dan¬ 
ger. Hope Is the golden band that keeps the 
heart from breaking, the power that keeps 
the soul from sinking when for an instant the 
dark waters of despair sweep over It; the anchor 
that stays us from floating far out iuto the re¬ 
gions of darkness. 
More of happiness is derived from anticipation 
than realization. When our life’s journey is 
ended and we pause wearily on the bank of 
death’s shadowy river, to look back over the 
path we have traveled, if we have fulfilled the 
true end of life. Hope will not leave us. but wil! 
point across the stream at our feet to the bright 
fields of the “ promised land,” and whisper of 
the joys that await u* beyond “ the pearly gates 
of the heavenly city." m. m. 
Caroline, N. Y-, 1867. 
It seemed as though the gates of heaven 
Were opened in the West, 
And all the angola looking out, 
In shining garments drest. 
Their radiant forms went flitting past 
The gateway of the blest, 
Then in a chariot of flame 
They took the sun to rest. n.: 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
A WORD TO PARENTS. 
“What has George been doing?” I asked, 
one day, of Mr. Brown, whom I had overheard 
scolding his sou, a boy of twelve years. 
11 The little rascal has been making a bow and 
■fooling away his time when he had better 
arrow- 
be doing something else? ” 
How many boys, like George, have been 
scolded for making a bow and arrow, or doing 
some other little thing equally harmless; and 
how are the joys of their young being saddened 
by this thoughtless scolding of parents. Think 
of the pain it gives them, when their pleasures 
arc thus uipped in the bud, the object of their 
joyous activity torn away, and their eager minds 
left au aching void. The trial is quite as severe 
to them as heavier sorrows are to the stronger 
powers of manhood. This scolding is not only 
cruel but thoughtless. Many parents seem to 
see no difference between youth and age, but 
think to apply the same rules to the restless 
activity of the one aud the dull declining of tbe 
other. They forget that this onward moving 
world of ours would stagnate and decline hut 
for that same vigorous activity, that boundless 
and elas 4 ,i c hope they every day reprove In their 
It is the law of nature to their young 
PASSIONS. 
CLARKE’S TOKEN OF RESPECT, 
"As well be out of the world as out of fash¬ 
ion,” is a worldly saying which hut overstates 
a truth. Avoiding extremes, it is imperative to 
know somewhat of prevailing modes, that they 
may be adapted to person and purse, with such 
modifications as good taste and fit economy may 
suggest. 
Our poor skill would fall to give a good view 
of the kuleideseoplc colors, the delicate shapes, 
the fabrics of substantial richness or gossamer 
lightness, the " trifles, light as air," of lace and 
feathered ornament which fill this realm ol' dain¬ 
ty and ever changing device. We turn for help 
to the great modiste* and give Madame Demor- 
est’s summing up of summer styles, beside 
-which any stiff essay of our own wore poor in¬ 
deed: 
"The metropolis presents a brilliant appear¬ 
ance at tbe present time, dressed in all the gay- 
cty of the new spring and summer fashions. 
The windows are bright with beautiful muslins 
and light summer silks, and the streets arc 
thronged with ladies abroad as well as at home, 
who have come to air their new clothes and 
pretty Easter bonnets in the sunshine of Broad¬ 
way. 
The prettiest costumes to be seen as yet upon 
the streets arc the summer silk suits, chene, or 
striped in narrow line in two colors. A white 
and lilac stripe, for instance, dress and sack, is 
trimmed with bands of silk in the contrasting 
color, and worn over a white mohair petticoat, 
trimmed with three rows of purple silk braid. 
Another very pretty suit is composed of 
mouse-colored chene silk, dotted with white and 
trimmed with rouleaux or narrow folds of monse- 
colored sj 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
BEAUTIFUL HANDS. 
I have met with no individual who so highly 
appreciated the talents of Wesley, or was so 
affectionately attached to him, as Adam Clarke, 
When he heard of his death he was over¬ 
whelmed with grief, and wrote with the point of 
a diamoud the following inscription on a pane 
of glass in his study window in Manchester. I 
frequently gazed on it with deep interest daring 
the three years that I occupied the adjoining 
parsonage; 
"Good men need not marble: I dure trust 
glass with the memory of John Wesley, A. M., 
late Fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford, who, 
with indefatigable zeal and perseverance, trav¬ 
eled through these kingdoms, preaching Jesus 
for more than half a century. By his unparal¬ 
leled labors ami writings, he revived and spread 
Scriptural Christianity wherever he went, for 
God was with him, but having finished his 
work, by keeping, preaching, and defending the 
faith, he ceased to live among mortals March 2d, 
MDCCXCI, in the eighty-eighth year of his age. 
As a small token of continued filial respect, this 
inscription is humbly dedicated to the memory 
of the above by his affectionate son in the gos¬ 
pel, Adam Clarke." 
Wesley was an accurate judge of character. 
Clarke had been but a short time in the minis¬ 
try when the founder of Methodism wrote, 
" Adam Clarke- Is doubtless an extraordinary 
young man, and capable of doing much good.” 
In his will he appointed him one of the seveu 
trustees of all hie literary property, aud Adam 
never put his father to shame. 
BY MINA MILLER 
We think the list of adages would be incom¬ 
plete without one something like this: — "He 
who has a beautiful heart has a beautiful hand." 
Beautiful are the hands engaged in helping the 
needy, wiping away the mourner’s tears, and 
scattering happiness over the earth. Worthy of 
praise were the hands that framed the Constitu¬ 
tion of our country. The slave sees beauty in 
the hand that unbinds his chains. Therefore, 
beautiful were hi6 who wrote the emancipation 
proclamation—beautiful even while pointing to 
the dark cloud which, for weary years, hung 
over our land; for it pointed also to the silver 
lining with assurances that the morning of peat-c 
would dawn 
children 
being, which parents should neither ameud nor 
repeal. 
Yes, father, let your boy enjoy himself as best 
he may. If he wants to go a nutting, fishing or 
hunting, why not let him go ? It i6 a world of 
pleasure to him, and let him enjoy it. The time 
may come when joys will not scatter so thickly 
around him to cheer and make life pleasant. 
If you would he a wise father do ail you can to 
make your boy happy. Your kindness can go 
further than getting him a new coat. Let him 
enjoy every pleasure he can that has no harm in 
it. Do not be too ready to think, cither, that ho 
is wasting his time and growing up in idleness. 
Making bows and arrows, or wooden guns, is 
better for the boy than studying Greek or Latin. 
You will see the proof of tins in future life, if 
you will watch and wait. You will see, too, the 
sad folly of forcing premature thought and study 
on the youth, and drawing him away from the 
world of perception. And so, parents, let nature 
have her course. Give your boy tools to work 
Beautiful, howsoever sun-browned 
and rough they might be, were the hands of 
those who fought to save the country, or when 
administering to the sick in camp or hospital, 
holding to their Ups the needed food or medi¬ 
cine, bathing their fevered brows, supporting 
their weary heads, or gently covering the sleep¬ 
ing dust with, earth, writing their names above 
the graves and sending to friends the last " good 
bye.” Beautiful arc the hands of the teacher 
held forth to assist those who would climb the 
hill of science. The records of the great and 
good of earth arc the holding up of their hands 
to show us the way to wisdom, greatness and 
purity. Beautiful were the hands of Jesus, 
placed on the eyes of the blind, resting on the 
heads of children in blessing, or raised to heaven 
in prayer. 
May we do such deeds that when we come 
down to death our hands may be free from 
stains, and we become inheritors of the promise, 
"He that hath clean hands and a pure heart 
shall ascend into the hill of the Lord, shall 
stand in His holy place." 
East Gaines, N. Y\, 1867. 
a heartless wife, and "single blessedness” is 
greatly superior in point of happiness to wedded 
life without love. " Fall not in love, dear girls 
—beware!" says the song. But we do not 
agree with said song on this question. On the 
contrary, we hold that it Is a good thing to fall 
in love, or get in love, if the loved object be a 
worthy one. To fall in love with an honorable 
man Is as proper as it is for an honorable man to 
fall in love with a virtuous and amiable woman. 
What conld be a more gratifying spectacle than 
a sight so pure, so approaching in its devotion 
to the celestial ? No: fall in love as soon as 
you like, provided it be with a suitable person. 
Fall in love and then marry; but never marry 
unless you do love. That’s the great point. 
Never marry for a " home," or a " husband;" 
never degrade yourself' by becoming a party to 
such an alliance. Never sell yourself, body and 
soul, on terms so contemptible. Love diguifles 
all things; it ennobles all conditions. With 
love, the marriage rite is truly a sacrament. 
Without it, the ceremony is base fraud, and the 
act a human desecration. Marry for love, or not 
at all. Be " an old maid,” if fortune throws not 
in your way the man of your heart; and though 
the witless may sneer and the jester may laugh, 
you still have your reward iu an approving con¬ 
science and a comparatively peaceful life.— Phre¬ 
nological Journal. 
iitin, dotted with white opaque beads. 
This is worn over a fluted skirt. 
There is a delicate chene poplin, and a very 
silky material, made of silk and linen, both of 
which are introduced for traveling dress purpos¬ 
es ; but though very pretty, they are not equal 
for service to Hie pure mohair, which will stand 
all sorts of weather without shriuking. 
The new muslins arc very gay, and in very 
large patterns; they are softened, however, by 
the delicate aud beautiful shading of the designs. 
An organdie muslin, moreover, needs a large 
pattern to be effective. Small figures are ab¬ 
sorbed by the fine transparent groundwork of 
the tissue, and serve only to give a misty, uncer¬ 
tain tint to the entire fabric. 
Robes in organdie have been revived this sea¬ 
son ; some made with a single flounce round the 
bottom of the skirt, others with an upper skirt, 
with flow ered bands, which descend upon it, and 
form a sort ol fan-shaped tunic. 
White toilets promise to be very fashionable 
again this season for young ladles; although 
they certainly require great neatuess aud exquis¬ 
ite attention to detail to be attractive. The 
finest and nicest of skirts and hose, white shoes, 
(unless the trimmings of the dress are black, and 
then black satin slippers may be worn,! spotless 
gloves, and a very careful eolfure, are all indis¬ 
pensable to a white dress; it is not therefore an 
economical toilet. 
The new Paisley shawls have black centers 
and black fringe; they are considered very dis¬ 
tinguished. A great many ladies are having their 
old white centers cut out aud the black ones put 
in. A great business is done in this way in the 
alteration of India 6liawls. 
A novelty in summer black silk cloaks and 
sacks is the introduction of color into the trim¬ 
ming. 
“Reins” are now as fashionable as ever, but 
they are all worn without loops, and quite 
frequently simulated by an embroidery at the 
back of the garment, the edges of which are fin¬ 
ished with fringe. 
Short dresses are great cou venieuees for country 
wear, and ladies are adopting them universally 
for this purpose and for traveling. Nothing so 
comfortable or eouvenient has been invented 
before for a long time. 
TO WHAT END IS OUR LIFE 1 
At the end of natural life we gather up the 
things we have accumulated in this world, they 
are added to our soul, and we carry them out of 
the world with us. Then no man will ever he 
sorry that in his youth he bowed his head to 
God in prayer; none will be sorry that he clasp¬ 
ed his hands In the instant of his resolution and 
swore he wonld reverence the dreams of hh 
youth, and keep his conscience undefiled, ar 
honor his God with a great life. This is sar'i- 
mental aud holy. Rejoice, 0 youDg man, in thy 
youth; bat remember Into what littleness 
may make their lives taper off and vanish away 
Remember, too, what an eternal joy a man 
gather from a small field of life, and go hom- 
with the sheaves in his bosom to be welcomed 
by God’s smile. 
Of old, the rock slumbered m the mountain, 
and Michael Angelo reached out his hand and 
took it, and gathered the stones from the field, 
and built them into that awful pile of St. Peter’s, 
covering acres of ground and reaching Its mighty 
dome toward heaven. So, brothers and sisters, 
out of common events, and the passions God 
has put in your hearts, you may paint on the 
walls of your life the fairest figures of an sp¬ 
an d prophets, and, from the common, stop*' 6 ° 
your daily work, build a temple which 
shelter from all harm, and bring down the hisP 1 
rations of God.— Parker. 
THE WILL TO BE TRAINED—NOT BROKEN 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
SOMETHING TO DO, SOMETHING TO LOVE, 
SOMETHING TO HOPE FOR. 
Men often speak of breaking the will of a 
child; but it seems to me they had better break 
its neck. The will needs regulating, not de¬ 
stroying. I should as soon think of breaking 
the legs of a horse in trainiug him, as a child's 
will. I never yet heard of a will iu itself too 
strong, more than of an arm too mighty, or a 
mind too comprehensive in its grasp, or too 
powerful in its hold. I would discipline and 
develop the will into harmonious proportions. 
The instruction of a child should be such as to 
animate, inspire and train, but not to hew, cut 
and carve; for I could always treat a child as a 
live tree, which was to be helped to grow, never 
as dry, dead timber to be carved into this or that 
shape, and have certain grooves cut in it. A liv¬ 
ing tree, and not dead timber, is every little 
child.— Selected. 
Among the first feelings which stir the mind 
in infancy is the desire for something to do. 
The child, as he runs about the floor, feels the 
need of motion; as he grows older, although he 
may have no taste for continuous labor, idLeness 
is misery and activity is happiness. When he is 
older 3 till this want for something to do is not 
lessened, and even when he totters down the 
western slope of life it continues. Why doe6 
the criminal so dread solitary confinement? 
It is not alone the terrible loss of intercourse 
with his fellows, but it is the extreme wretch¬ 
edness of want of occupation for body and mind. 
It is not man alone that shows this trait; all 
The lower animals, 
FORCE OF EXAMPLE 
The imitative propensities of Young America 
are nearly equal to those of the monkey tribe. 
Willie, a three-year old, was at dinner with 
the rest of the family, which included an aunt 
on a visit. 
“ Aunt Ellen,” asked Willie, “ do you ever 
say devil ?" 
" Why no, Willie; what makes you ask such 
a question ?” replied the lady. 
" Because Pa says so. Pa, what made you say 
devil the other day, when you were looking for 
the hammer and could’nt find it ?” 
“ Oh,” said his Pa, rather cornered, “ did I ? 
Well so as to find it easier, I suppose.” 
Here the discussion ended, the explanation 
being considered as good as could be given 
under the circumstances—but Willie's reten¬ 
tive memory treasured it up. 
A few days after Willie’s cap got somehow out 
of place, and he forgot where he left it His 
mother told him to look till he fouad it. 
Off he started, up stairs, and down stairs, aud 
his treble voice rang through the halls, 
the universe manifests it, 
and even the murmuring brook and the waving 
grain, whisper action. If we could look into 
the bright abode beyond the sky we should 
there find still more earnest action. 
" An angel’s wing wonld droop if long at rest, 
And God himself, inactive, were no longer blest." 
Our Father above, in giving ns this great de¬ 
sire for something to do, gave each also "a work 
which no other can do.” 'When our fathers left 
their home across the seas aud came to this 
beautiful New World, they did their work nobly, 
and bequ^thed to us the priceless boon of a 
free country and a goodly name, which it is ours 
to preserve untarnished. 
This want of something to do is not more 
general than that of something to love. From 
infancy to the grave this law of affection rules 
all mankind. Almost the first impulse ol a child 
is love for mother and father, and others who 
Nature’s Periodic Lessons.—T he flow aud 
action of vital currents and forces is like the 
vibration of the electric current from positive to 
negative; hence the heart-beating; the regular 
breathing, the air inspired and expired; the 
periodic craving for food; the desire to sleep at 
night, to wake at morning. As mother Earth 
has her periods of spring-time and all the sea¬ 
sons, so we find our vital processes and wants 
periodic. Hence regular habits are but obedi¬ 
ence to Nature’s periodic laws. 
s#on 
crying out, Devil! Devil! Devil ! 
"Willie, my son!” called out his frightened 
mother, " what in the world do you mean by 
using this wicked word ?” 
“ So as to find my cap easy,” cried the boy. 
" Pa says devil when he can’t find things, don’t 
he, Ma?” 
Forces are invisible, but the phenomena, or 
facts caused by them, are visible; force is per- 
mauent, ever acting in ever-varied ways, there¬ 
fore phenomena or facts constantly occur: and 
science, which is the knowledge of forces and 
facts, has a field ever rich and new. 
The golden days of Jane are full 
of ripe harvest; so let your life be 
day, and promising more to-morrow. 
