$a&ifs' 'Oqtacfittmt 
LULLABY. 
BT UEORGK 8. BURLEIGH. 
Wink, wink! and peep, peep 1 
Yes, little baby, go right to sleep; 
Mamma baB tumbled you all in a heap, 
Filled you fall and rolled yon in wool 
Like a sheep, to keep you from frosty uneap; 
Now, little baby, go right to Bleep. 
Til do the racket, and baby may rest; 
I’ll do the looking, and baby may sleep; 
I'll do the flwaing, kicking and tossing, 
The twisting and fisting, the rolling and crossing. 
For I am no strong 1 can do it the best, 
And let little baby sleep. 
Lay on the shelf, a bit, all you dumb alphabet; 
I don’t believe you understand half of it; 
Take the twist out of your little old face I 
Yes, you look knowing; hut never mind showing 
Your mother-wit yet; it will keep as you sleep, 
And come out with a pleasanter grace. 
TTush, hush I Whlflt, whist 1 
Now arc relaxing the fist and the twist, 
And baby has pone to sleep; 
Happy and simple, In many a dimple 
Dreamlote over his features sweep, 
And smiles are lighting his baby sleep. 
Babes are watching him, Ul tle and old. 
Ruddy aud plump In their years untold; 
Airy and fairy-like, filling his dream. 
From their shoulders white spring wings of light; 
They float, unfluttering, full in his sight. 
In his smile I see their gleam. 
-♦« • » 
Written for Moorc’e Itural New-Yorker. 
HAYING TIME. 
Early morning — radiant with sunshine — 
glittering with dew-drops, fragrant with wafting 
odors, vocal with song. How inspiring out-of- 
door life, could we only for a brief time rest in 
it But higher climbs the sun—the sweetest 
songs arc hushed, the pearls that clustered on 
grass and flower have vanished, the varied sounds 
of labor from the meadow proclaim noontime is 
coming, and our tedious “tramp, tramp” must 
he resumed In woman's realm —the kitchen — 
where a few dishes must be washed, and a little 
cooking done—and as Bridget and myself are 
one and the same Individual, we can work juntas 
hard, and as fast as we please. 
Well! dinner Is over. Tired, hungry men are 
refreshed, and go out strengthened lor the after¬ 
noon work. Steadily toiling beneath the hot 
sun, riding upon the mowing-machine—raking, 
pitching, are not all play; but what a great im¬ 
provement upon the time when the “ mowers’ 
AlU ‘Jo rvit .1 uJ " *> 1 111 dcjrllu, “ ,ui t,liu UUue turn 
hay,” and by hand, raked the meadow Y O, yes, 
FICKLE LOVERS - SENSIBLE WORDS. 
In its “ Notices to Correspondents,” the New 
York Ledger gives the following very sensible 
and practical advice: 
“ From the number of communications which 
we receive from disappointed lovers of both 
sexes, it would seem as though the majority of 
those who “vow eternal fidelity,” etc., prove 
recreant to the objects of their first affections and 
seek consolation in new attachments. There 
must be some general principle at work to cause 
such uniformity of results, and we think that the 
letters of our wailing correspondents betray the 
secret, to wit: that these disappointed ones be¬ 
came lovers and plighted their troth at too early an 
aye. It is the Sheerest folly lor mere boys and 
girlB to enter into such engagements ; and by 
boys and girls we. mean members of the human 
family under twenty-one years of age, whom the 
law designates infants and protects against them¬ 
selves and others by holding all their engage¬ 
ments of every kind violableund subject to their 
ratification or repudiation after they had arrived 
at the full age of twenty-one years. The experi¬ 
ence of ages has shown that twenty-one is the 
lowest point at which the line which separates 
the period of irresponsible boyhood and girl¬ 
hood from that of responsible manhood and 
womanhood can be safely drawn. And this is 
especially so as to marriage engagements. The 
youth who is about leaving home for college or 
for any where, is totally unqualified to enter into 
an engagement of marriage. What man of busi¬ 
ness would think of then contracting with him 
for the building of a house, or for any under¬ 
taking involving skill and capital? And yet it 
would not be half so unwise for him then to 
contract for the house in which he intended to 
pass Ids future life us it would be to contract 
with the wife on whom his enjoyment of his 
home is mostly to depend. The youth who goes 
to college is usually a different being from the 
man who returns to the old homestead with his 
diploma in hiE pocket; and equally changed 
does he return who went forth in his boyhood 
to wrestle with the world for occupation and 
competence. And so, too, do girls change, in 
their progress to womanhood, in thoughts, ca¬ 
pacity, tastes, notions, and everything else that 
enters into their mental and spiritual nutures. 
The youth whom the girl of sixteen “adored,” 
she laughs at at twenty-two; and the rosy 
wreath of Juvenile betrothal is almost certain 
fRlscfltaag. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
KIT AND I. 
BY BELL CLINTON. 
Long, long ago, we were walking 
Down by Hope's silvery tide. 
Long, long ago I was asklug 
When I might call her my bride. 
Softly the answer was given; 
Then —'neath the moon's mellow light— 
Brightly the future wus beaming— 
Fondly 1 kissed her good-night. 
Long time ago we were parted; 
She trends the ‘’Evergreen Shore,” 
Weary, 1 wait for the morning 
When I shall meet her once more. 
Life lias its pleasures, and blessing* 
Oft in my pathway are cast.; 
But of its pictures the brightest 
Are framed in the beautiful Past. 
Chenango Co , N. Y., 1867. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
A WESTERN WOMAN’S TRIBUTE. 
—9 - * 
BY Mlt». A. T. TERRY, 
Many a pleasant hoar, 
We've spent in days of yore 
Over thy bright pages 
Replete with useful lore. 
• 
With many a pleasing story, 
With many a gem of thought, 
And many a useful lesson * 
In every volume wrought. 
Of the whole News-paper army 
We love the Ritual best, 
And welcome It most warmly 
To our home in the distant West. 
Washington, Wis., 1867. 
EVERY-DAY THINKING. 
We believe there are philosophers who con¬ 
tend that, waking or sleeping, the mind of man 
Is never entirely at rest. Such a proposition 
can be supported by a tolerable show of argu¬ 
ment. Perhaps the healthy reader, whose diges¬ 
tion is excellent, und whose sleep Is correspond¬ 
ingly sound, may he inclined to doubt this. So 
far as such an one knows, Bleep is a suspension 
of the mental, as well as the physical functions. 
to be sure; hut., dear lord of the field, if you minds and hearts—about the last knowledge 
were ouly a woman, you say, and could shelter attainable on earth, 
yourself Indoors from the burning sun, with -. .•» 
nothing to do but housework, it w'Ould he much ^ BEAUTIFUL INCIDENT 
easier. _ 
Well, try it. Begin in the morning; skim Qie William IV. expired about midnight, if we 
milk, get the cream in the churn, prepare break- remember right, at Windsor Palace. The Arch- 
fast, dress the children, wash the dishes, knead bishop of Canterbury, with other peers and 
the. bread, make the pics, fix the fire. If you high functionaries of the kingdom, were ip at- 
< burn by hand, make UiC dasher fly until you’re tendance. As soon as the. ‘‘scepter had depurt- 
out of breath, tuck baby under your arm, pick ed ” wiUj the lust breath of the king, the Arch- 
tin .peas, spend a half bout- trying to get him to bishop quitted Windsor Castle and made his 
sleep, think of the pudding—run, see if its burn- Wfly> wilh all possible speed to Kensington 
mg, tumble over the cat, tear your apron on a Palac6) the residence at the time of the Princess 
conn i (i. ie *i oy-hearth, burn your fingers, __ a i rcadv by the law of succession Queen—Vic- 
Leat your facd till it glows like a coal, make the turia . H e !(rrivc d long before daylight, an- 
)c< b, o n sweeping, got (he meat and vegeta- nonnced himself and requested an Immediate 
h es cooking, make the coffee, set the table, jog iutcrvicw witu the Princess. She hastily attired 
k era e i \uy <>t n.r nnc you pass, singing, herself, and met the venerable prelate in her 
“ hush, my dear, lest the little squirming lump ro ’ om . u , toformcd h er of the death of 
v i an sir (( n > nows open a pair o( eyelids to william, and formally announced to her that she 
yom serious lscomti uit,, prepare the salad, the waa j u j aw and right, successor to the deceased 
sauce, the gravy, call the men to dinner, have aU mo ’ arcb . Thfi sovereignty of the most pow- 
°n the table m order, look the personification of ful millon luy ft t the feet of a girl of eighteen.” 
patience, happiness and contentment, and. if . . ph i , * . . , 
She was, dejure, queen of the only realm, in fact 
you’re satisfied, march to the field again, thank- „ , . , . . ... . „ ... 
7 . ’ . , ’ 1 or history, “ on which the snn never set." She 
mg J“ ur 8 <tra ' na w en you mow, you don t waB deeply agitated at “ the formidable words, 
il ?♦> _° < <>r Ul ra ,V ,S ’ IllU tl ' iml l0ad so fraught with blessing or calamity.” The first 
l nt timt'' !m ° a& -T'T, LT ^ llot stove “ words she was able to utter were these, “I ask 
hut that, out in open held, beueatb the blue sky, - . . 
» .tray breeze will occmIo .. jon. *"»"* * 
1 suid, “dinner is over,” 1 will stop a mo- Tliey knec,ed together, and Victoria inaugu- 
nient! From the door I can count one, two ratcd hcr rei # n ’ llke the y° u "g kin ? of Ibmel in 
three, four “ Buckeyes” and a “Clipper - ” over 0,deu tiuje > b * v a8kiD ? from tlic highest who 
the hill hear a “Union.” How the tull grass rulclh > n Ulc kingdoms of men, “an uuderstimd- 
hns fallen before them. Ah! the table must in S hcart to J ud g 0 so great a people, who could 
be cleared ; I wish I had it dish-washer. Well, 1 not l)e nambor6d n°r counted for multitude.” 
ought not to complain. 1 have ftu old-fashioned The sequel of hcr reign has been worthy of 
one, and a washing-machine, and u clothes- such a beginning. Every throne in Europe has 
wringer, and a seoiiriug-machiue, and aknittiug- tottered since that day. Most of them have 
machine, all combined,— one that took the first been for a time overturned. That of England 
premium of a grand gold medal at the World’s was never so firmly seated in the loyalty and love 
Fair when Mother Eve first, went to housekeep- of the people as at this hour. Queen Victoria 
iug. It is getting somewhat “the worse for enjoys personal influence, too,—the heartfelt 
wear,” and I should really like very much to try homage paid her as a Christian woman—ineom- 
sorne of the modern Inventions. But, oh, count¬ 
less conjunctions and interjections are in the way. 
So nothing remains hut to bring a willing hand 
and heart to the rescue, and trudge on cheerfully 
as one can. Bell Clinton. 
Chenango Co., N. Y., 1867. 
A Mystery Explained.— Rev. Mr.-of 
Lawrence, is a bachelor. Noticing, early in the 
season, that one of his members, a married lady', 
was not at meeting for several Sabbaths, he call- Her father was killed, and her mother died a 
ed to ask the reason. As her reply was some- short time afterward. The captors, dazzled by 
what, evasive, he surmised that she “ had noth- the great beauty of Virginie, spared her, and, by 
ing to wear, and said, “you are waiting for a concurrence of romantic circumstances, the 
your spring bounet, I suppose.” Weeks passed, Emperor’s son fell in love with her and made 
and still she did not make her appearance. her his wife. This Empress has since sought 
therefore thought he would call again. Ap- out and brought her three sisters to the Moroc- 
proaching the house, he saw her her sitting at can Court, to which they are now attached. 
thewiudow, and blandly remarked, “I haven’t __ 
seen you at church yet; hasn’t that bonnet „ .. 
cooler " Yee, sir," she archly rcpllei » , AGA “" eooYC^.-At one of oor p 
I show it to you r If j„„ please.” M8we ’ ?? ! T"*” “* kcd tko oklIdreD if 
the wooded,,, „„ to , i/olding op. ZlZ “! “**?*!**' 
in maturcr years to become a clanking chain of Whatever the workings of his or her mind may 
Intolerable bondage to one or both of the fool- l>e, they never develop into dreaming that is re¬ 
tell young creatures who so eagerly fastened it membered. But there is no proof that the 
upon their lives. The only way, therefore, for mind really ceases its workings. Anesthetic 
the young to avoid these licart-hrcaking disap- agents do not lull it to rest. Take ether, when 
{(ointments referred to is not to enter into mar- about to have a tooth extracted, and you do not 
nugo IIU g ^c. U p..l.l UUMI UU'-J' IMS OIU UlvugU W OIJUDI/ (Aio <JC «,» p„t yn>i 
make a wise choice and to know their own gome beautiful dreaming. Your physical sys- 
mlnds and hearts—about the last knowledge tem is under the influence of a soporific most 
attainable on earth. powerful, but your mental machinery works as 
-- actively as ever. 
A BEAUTIFUL INCIDENT. 11 18 not our purpose, however, to indulge in 
- argument for or aguiust the philosophy mon- 
Wn.i.iAM IV. expired about midnight, if we tioued. Whether mankind think much during 
remember right, at Windsor Palace. The Arch- sleep, or not, is of little account any way. Cer- 
hishop of Canterbury, with other peers and tala it is that in our waking hours we think 
high functionaries of the kingdom, were in at- enough to compensate for any odd moments, if 
tendance. As soon as the “scepter had depart- there he such, in which the mental maehinerv 
ed” with the lust breath of the king, the Arch- is idle. 
bishop quitted Windsor Castle and made his This every-day thinking is something very 
way, with all possible speed to Kensington curious, when we stop to consider it. Anamns- 
Palaee, the residence at the time ol‘ the Princess iug pastime is entitled, “ What is my thought 
—already by the law of succession Queen—Vic- like?” If we could so improve upon the social 
toriu. He arrived long before daylight, an- play as to introduce it in our daily round, and 
nonneed himself and requested an Immediate by it, determine What the thinking of those we 
interview with the Princess. She hastily attired come in contact with is, verily it would be 
herself, and met the venerable prelate in her worth the achieving. Coming down to the 
ante room. He informed her of the death of Rural sanctum, a few moments -since, the odd 
William, and formally announced to her that, she fancy suggested itself that if we could read the 
was, in law and right., successor to the deceased thoughts of the. people we were passing, it would 
monarch. “The sovereignty of the most pow- he better than a chapter in Vanity Fair. What 
ful nation luy at the feet of a girl of eighteen.” a strange conglomeration wc should discover, 
She was, dejure, queen of the only realm, in fact to he sure! Looking through each other’s eyes, 
or history, “ on which the sun never set." She and effecting an interchange of thinking, would 
was deeply agitated at “ the formidable words, open up au exposition scarcely behind the great 
so fraught with blessing or calamity.” The first Paris one in point of variety, 
words she was able to utter were these, “I ask Ail thought is not labor. And very fortunate 
your prayers in my behalf” for us is it, that it is not. If it were, the wear 
They kneeled together, and Victoria inaugu- and tear of tlR ‘ meutal machinery would soon 
rated her reign, like the young king of Israel in r0lldcr ^ unbl tot UbC - ^ ho mind has its regu- 
sideu time, by asking from the Highest who bir P^y-spells, and sometimes even amid the 
ruleth in the kingdoms of men, “an understand- rou ^' nc 01 work it acts the truant, and goes off 
ing heart to judge so great a people, who could hite-llying like a careless Bchool-boy. Reveries 
not be numbered nor counted for multitude.” aI e 1,6 what Saturday is to the children, 
™ . and Sunday to the toilers. They are our mental 
The sequel o( hcr reign has been worthy of . . * , ~ J meuuu 
„ k • t- . rests,— better than sleep, because we are not 
such a beginning. Every throne in Europe has , ... , 
tottered zincc that dny! Mod of fc. bm to onrtclT M ,-n„d tLcy do u s good. 
Men for a time ovortnrncd. That of England A •^■vnlunlB intcrUcnd them more or , m 
ran never so linnly rented In tbe loyalty and love ^oir every d», thinking. Those of the 
If the people nt this bonr. Qnccn Victoria Pnmhenl min m»y be of « different char- 
nijoys personal i„e„c„ee, too,-the heartfelt ^ ^ those indmged m by the sentiment, 
lomage paid her n Christian womnn-lneom- *""> “">(->«■“«« #>« 1«» reverie.. They 
inrably wider nnd greater thun that of an, Mon- “ e (*»*'*“■ of 
irch now reigning. Much of our evfry-day thiuking is 5ntangible, 
_ _ ___ if, indeed, thouglrt may be said to have tangi- 
-» _ bility at all. It fis as though we grasped at 
From a Cottage to a Throne.—T he Empress ... . ,1 .. r . r . b " 
r ,, . .. , ,,, , “ ’ something impalpable. It is not reverie, nor 
>f Morocco is a native of Chaley, near Dole, n A ,. - , „ 
, , , , ’ dreaming, but thought in embryo. Perhaps it 
(’ranee, wliere she was bom on the 20th of No- , .. , . r : ,, 
.• . “ may develop itself, by-aud-by. It would, surelv. 
■emBer, 1830 In n poor thatched ootutgo. Her jf notlMdgod io by nor, = deioUe and nnUri'j , 
none »» Virgime Lnterme,. 81,e went with fhe moot tannUAtl tl.onghtof u.epoet 
ler parents ,,, 1884 to Algeria md the whole i, a uhe Unit only n Jim, fleeting fancy, ca,tht , 
r LTr^'MlT"^ , J “° r « C ‘" 8 - on the wing; nnd then apnuded into the Fall 
ter father was bflied, and her mother died a baiot of p erf< .„, ion 1 
hort time afterward. The captors, dazzled by _,. . . , . , , . 
, y The character of one’s daily thinking isde- 
he great beauty of Virgime, spared iier. and bv , * . , , ^ 
“ - b .’ : 11 y pendent mainly upoal the surrounding circum- 
, concurrence of romantic circumstances, the . ,,,, • . ( 
v , .. „ . , “ ‘ » l ut stances. The mind .3 the subject of habit. Yet 
imperor s son fell in love with her and made . . . . . . . . ’ 1Vb 
.. mi > i. . . mauy minds are put under training. A straight 
er his wife. This Empress has since souuht • , . , •„ , . } 
, , , ,, , ^ jacket, now and then, will be beneliml to manv r 
ut and brought her three sisters to the Moroc- ... . . „ „ '-i T 
,, , , ,. , ,, V 11101 are never circiunBcnbed to fixed limits 
an Court, to which they are now attached. u , .. . , - , 
• Every-day thinking lias its sinning, quite as 
much as has every-day doing. Indeed we mav B 
A g. A TY-- „ __ A A /< . .. . . * 
if breathed forth, would be blasting in their 
influence as the Bimoon itself. If wc could but 
put to every man the question—What is your 
thought ?— and receive a truthful reply, there 
would be such an unraveling of every-day think¬ 
ing as would absolutely startle us all! 
Written for Moore'g Rural New-Yorker. 
THE TELEGRAPHER. 
This Summer’s day is bright and beautiful. 
The canopy above is clear— Dot a cloud visible 
above the horizon — and as far as the eye can 
reach it rests upon interminable space—reach¬ 
ing far into the calm blue depths of the sky. 
This, with the landscape beneath, rich with fra¬ 
grance and beauty, reveals to the delighted eye 
Nature’s unfolding wonders. 
To one shut up in an ojjlec from early morning 
until “mother” sun has sunk to repose in the 
west, what a privilege to be free from labor and 
permitted to partake of the. world’s pastimes 
and pleasues — to atroll out in tire cool shade or 
yonder grove and listen to the sweet songs of its 
feathered Inhabitants, and have a good “romp; ” 
or, what, would bo better, stroll over to “ BuRy- 
wild Farm, ” cultivate the acquaintance of 
Jennie and the “farm bands,” assist to milk 
the cows, and feed the pigs, chickens aud ducks, 
and then, after partaking of the delicious farmers’ 
breakfast prepared by Jennie’s hands, to have a 
walk with Rose and Franc, away over green 
pastures and meadows, nnd “lend a helping 
hand" to gather in the new-mown hay, and 
when the cool shades of evening came, to saddle 
“Doll,” “Fan” and “Bill,” and have a quiet 
ride. What a splendid relish for meals! and at 
night, Instead of nervous wakefulness, wouldn’t 
sleep come, refreshing to body and soul, and 
carry one away to happy dream-land ? 
But we are compelled to remain indoors and 
listen to the constant click, click of our instru¬ 
ment, day after day and week after week, except 
Sunday, and even then tbe “Telegraph Opera¬ 
tor” will, in imagination, hear the click, and Ills 
hand will involuntarily move as if to answer a 
“call.” Yet, with al) the disadvantages attend¬ 
ing the position of an operator, there arc many 
privileges and pleasures that those in other walks 
of life cannot enjoy. Our workshop is vast, ex¬ 
tending far, over and under land and sea, North, 
South, East, and West; and althongh separated 
by wide distances from each oilier, we arc in 
constant and immediate communication — con¬ 
versing os accurately and readily as though in 
the hearing of each other’s voices. Then, too, 
we are the constant recipients of varied mes¬ 
sages of great loss, and the grief attending it; 
of the committal of some horrid crime, the es¬ 
cape of the culprit, and then his final arrest 
JXOw, of \Wo *nfo Hrrival nf soran 1°>»K <*x'JM<cteti 
ship, containing all that is dear to a fond mother's 
heart; now, of trade and the condition of 
SaWalJj HeaHag. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
A8PIRA TION. 
O, that mv feet might seek that spot 
Where while on earth the Saviour trod— 
When to remove from ns the blot 
Of sin, lie left benveu’s fair abode. 
O, could I through that earden go, 
Where to prepare for Death He went,— 
Where with a heart surcharged with woe 
A night of agony He spent; 
Or view the scenes of Galilee, 
Or quench my thirst at Jacob’s well,— 
Where to Samaria's daughter He 
Did of the living water tell; 
O, then niethlnks a holier lire, 
A {rarer love than fills It now, 
This worldly heart would then inspire 
A nobler life on earth to show. 
It may not be, but belter far, 
Believing Christians yet. may find. 
The Saviour, by the means of prayer, 
Is still as near, as true, as kind. 
No need to visit holy land 
To ieel His precious presence near, 
He leads His children by the hand, 
In darkest hour the friend most dear, 
Klkhorn, Wis. B. o. D. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
SHADOWS GATHEE ’MID SUNLIGHT. 
Are we ever so perfectly happy that there 
does not a cloud of sorrow obscure the sunlight 
of existence? I think not; and yet there may 
he moments when the sky seems serene and 
cloudless—when our desires and plans appear to 
be furthered by' an invisible hand—when friends 
are apparently as true- as truth Itself, and all 
things arc so favorable to our wishes, and so 
much after onr own notion, that we are ready to 
assert that this is a very good and happy world, 
and we are well satisfied with it and its’inhabi¬ 
tants in general, ourselves not excepted. But 
even while we arc reveling in the bright sunlight 
of almost perfect happiness, shadows are gath¬ 
ering “ in the far off, uncertain dim,” which will 
sooner or later find their way to our hearts, and 
take the place of the light which so lately illu¬ 
minated our pathway with its golden glory. 
There are various reasons for the shadows 
gathering. Knowing that one wc hold dear by 
the ties of blood, or of friendship, has gone 
astray from the path of integrity and honor, for 
the time being will exclude very much of the 
sunlight from our hearts, aud make us feel that 
life is hardly wortii living for. But Time, the 
great consoler or ail trihulatlous, will, in lt« own 
good season, disperse the heavy clouds, or ar¬ 
il nally, of the visitation of the angel of death to 
some loved ones, bearing them away to their 
long home. 
Night, at last relieves ns from the toils of one 
day; for outsiders cannot understand the ten¬ 
sion of nerves, the close attention, the ready 
comprehension demanded of the Telegraph Op¬ 
erator, or the weariness caused thereby. But 
we catch the wide world’s thought and action as 
they speed past on the lightning’s wings, and 
every click of our instrument Is a pulse - beat of 
civilization, sweeping in its broad tide from 
Constantinople to the distant Pacific. 
from us by death, it is very hard to see the rays 
of sunlight that are piercing through them in 
every direction, telling us that “ all tilings work 
together for good to those who love God,” and 
“ He docth all tilings well.” When our mental 
and physical abilities arc prostrated by illness, 
and our ambition tells us how much we might 
accomplish if we only hud health and strength, 
we feel that the shadows arc very dense, and are 
ready to exclaim, “ Who could have thought 
such shadows lay concealed within thy beams, 
0, Sun?” 
But however thick and heavy the clouds may 
Thus, like others, we have our compensations bu whScb occasionally overshadow our path of 
parabiy wider and greater than that of any Mon¬ 
arch now reigning. 
From a Cottage to a Throne.— The Empress 
of Morocco is a native of Chaley, near Dole, in 
France, where she was bom on the 20th of No¬ 
vember, 1820, in a poor thatelied cottage. Her 
name was Virginie Laternicr. She went with 
her parents in 1804 to Algeria, and the whole 
family were taken prisoners by the Moroccans. 
thought may be said to have tangi- 
11. It Ite as though we grasped at 
impalpable. It is not reverie, nor 
ns well as our toils, and can but work ou hoping 
to win a better field. Will. 
Conneaut, Ohio, August, 1867. 
MUSIC AS A STIMULANT. 
Alfieri, often before he wrote, prepared his 
mind by listening to music: —“Almost all my 
tragedies were sketched in my mind either in 
the act of hearing music or a few hours after”— 
a circumstance which has been recorded of many 
others. Lord Bacon had music played in the 
room adjoining his study; Milton listened to his 
organ lor his solemn inspirations; and music 
was ever ueecssnry to Warburtor. Tbe sympho¬ 
nies which awoke in the poet sublime emotions, 
might have composed the inventive mind of the 
great critic in the visions of his theoretical mys¬ 
teries. A celebrated French preacher, Bourda- 
loue or Massillon, was once found playing on a 
violin to screw his mind up to the pitch prepar¬ 
atory to his sermon, which within a short inter¬ 
val he was to preach before the Court. Curran’s 
favorite mode of meditation was with his violin 
in his hand; for hours together he would forget 
himself, running voluntaries over the strings, 
while his imagination, in collecting Its tones, 
was opening all his faculties for the coming 
emergency at the bar. 
GEMS OF THOUGHT, 
Against Polygamy.— At one of onr public 
schools, the inspector asked the children if they 
could give any text of Scripture which forbade 
having two wives. One of the children sagely 
may develop itself, hy-aud-by. It would, surely, Idleness is the stupidity of the body, and 
if not hedged in by nore definite and material stupidity the idleness of the mind.— Seume. 
matter. The most bamtiful thought of the poet The most l.appy man is he who knows how to 
is at the first, only a aim, fleeting fancy, caught briuir into relation the end aud beginning of his 
on the wing; and then expanded into the full life —Geelhe, 
beauty of perfection.! ’ , . , . 
The character of daily thinking i, dc . "Th ‘ f ° T . f Pr T■«?' 11 
pendent maiuly open the .unrounding cirdm,. * not , “° dec !'”f <■» 
stances. The mind it the subject of habit. Vet da T of ‘“'“"“'‘Hy.-J/adnn,. * Stof. 
many minds are put under training. A straight t,batl I ,rcacbeB gratitude pleads the cause 
jacket, now and then, will be beneficial to many bo tt> °f t’ 0( t and man; for without it we can 
that are never circumscribed to fixed limits. ne 'tl' er he sociable nor religious.— Seneca. 
Every-day thinking lias its sinning, quite as A truth which one has never heard causes the 
much as has every-day doing. Indeed we may surprise at first, Which touches It kindly; 
assert that mental transgressions are largely in hut wheu it is accustomed to it, it becomes very 
the majority over all others. There are “ walk- insensible there.— Nicole. 
ing sepulchres,’ and not a few, who outwardly Row not into debt, either for wares sold, or 
conform to all Jaw, and the usages of good ' money borrowed; be content to want thin us 
a baby, she said, blushing, “This is the sprirnr ! A , , 1 cmidrcn 8a ? e ^ conform to all Jaw, and the usages of good I money borrowed; be content to want things 
bonnet I was waiting for; did I do ri^ht ?” & fi uu e 1,1 icply the text: “No man can serve ( society, whose daily thought Is a daily sin, we that are not of absolute necessity, rather than to 
two masters. 1 ’ might almost say a daily crime. Their reveries, run up the score.—Air M. Hale. 
. life, we ought not to repine, for sooner or later 
the 6un will pierce through them, and, scatter¬ 
ing them to the four winds of Heaven, leave the 
sky calm, serene and cloudless. 
“ Shadows gather ‘mid the sunlight 
Wander wheresoe'er we may, 
Light and darkness intermingled 
Ever o’er Onr pathway play. 
Change seems written all around us, 
All tilings earthly fade and die— 
But no flower ever fadeth 
In that home In jood the sky. 
May the star of hope e'er guide us 
Through life’s dark and stormy night, 
Till we gain those heavenly portals 
And behold unfading light. 
Light proCeedeth from God’s glory, 
Light w hich never groweth dim, 
Light which Jesus died to give us, 
Light alone is found in Him.” 
Lxnie Hall. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
SOUL PICTURES. 
Engraven deep upon the tablet of the soul 
lies some hidden picture, some loved one whose 
voice uo longer thrills us, who has passed on to 
the unknown shore. Easel aud pencil fail to 
bring out life such as is hidden deep in the re¬ 
cesses of fond, loving hearts. Time cannot 
erase these pictures; every expression lives, 
and they often flash across us. Sometimes we 
read them in the countenances of others, 
when the soul illumined gives life and anima¬ 
tion to the face. It is then that the loved one 
stands before us, clothed in the flesh. Blessed 
pictures! You tell us that love is immortal 
aud undying. You point us to the better laud. 
You tell us of re-unions when our earthly work 
is done. You loosen our hold on earth and give 
us aspirations after things not perishable. 
Log Harbor, August, 1867. ‘Mattie. 
They are rare Christians, indeed, who hold 
their goodness and grow in goodness where 
wickedness sits on the throne. To be wheat 
among tares, corn among chaff, pearls among 
cockles, and roses among thorns, is truly excel¬ 
lent.— Spurgeon. 
Though true repentance be never too late, yet 
late repentance te seldom true. 
