agreeable. Let the mother hold up rewards to vir¬ 
tue and obedience continually, toning up the child’s 
moral nature by daily Bible readings and family 
prayer, and she will have little need of the thunder¬ 
bolt of retribution. Love is a far more potent 
motive than fear; and where love abounds all the 
virtues and graces will follow in its train. Weeds 
can be shaded down as well as pulled up by the 
roots, and ofteu this is the best way to destroy 
them. If the tares are rooted up the wheat may 
come with them. 
I am interested in your account of your children. 
For Carrie, nothing can he better than constant 
employment. Aset of drawing cards or a book of 
slate pictures will afford her infinite diversion, and 
she is old enough to be exceedingly useful in assist¬ 
ing you. Let her have thimble, ueedle-boob, thread, 
and a work-basket of her own, and take entire charge 
of her doll’s wardrobe, both as to making it up and 
keeping it clean. From that she can pass by de¬ 
grees to the care of her own. Of course, yon will 
teach her everything yon yourself know about house¬ 
keeping, and as her capacity of learning and doing 
increases, you will have an assistant in your labors 
ever interested and reliable, relieving you in some 
measure of household care, and lightening your 
daily tasks. My oldest boy, just about the age of 
your Carrie, helps me when I have no servant, and 
can set the table and clear it away and sweep the 
kitchen as well as anybody. He will be a better 
husband by-and-byin consequence of the familiarity 
he is acquiring with the homely details of domestic 
employment. And if our girls receive special train¬ 
ing with a view of being good wives, why should not 
the boys be equally initiated into the way of becom¬ 
ing good husbands? 
But I must draw this letter to a close. My house¬ 
maid left me unexpectedly a day or two since, and 
so I must put my own shoulder to the wheel until 
I can procure another. Training children is easy 
compared with training and managing servants. 
When you get them trained, management fails 
somewhere and they leave. 
In haste, Mart. 
Tadics 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
CHICAGO DURING THE SiENGERFEST, 
Choice fffiorcUanir 
The under-current of enthusiasm and excitement 
that seems to perpetually flow through the every¬ 
day life of the residents of Chicago, was brought to 
the surface, and its volume greatly increased, daring 
the celebration of the recent German singing fes¬ 
tival Though peculiarly German iu its origin and 
inception, many Americans, actuated by fraternal 
feelings, as well as attracted by the novelty of the 
enterprise, gave it their heartiest sympathy and 
support. 
The streets were thronged with strangers whose 
oval features (and forms.) and the earnestness with 
which they discussed the merits of the Samgerfest, 
clearly indicated their nationality. Miniature trees 
planted in uncongenial auger-holes, decorated the 
street corners, and as the gentle wind rustled their 
withering leaves, seemed to eloquently protest 
against being thus ruthlessly sacrificed ; while beau¬ 
tiful garlands of evergreens and flowers lent an un¬ 
natural charm to dark stairways, leading to the vari¬ 
ous saloons and liquor vaults. 
Innumerable flags waved their welcome to the 
singers of the “Fatherland,” who came to exchange 
greetings with their countrymen, and participate in 
the festivities of the occasion: and substantial 
arches heavy with festoons, banners, and Chinese 
lanterns, were erected over many of the principal 
streets and avenues. The large skating-rink, which 
for the time was dedicated to the goddess of music 
presented a very brilliant appearance. Beasts, statu¬ 
ary, mysterious looking emblems, and banners, 
striped with mottoes of undoubted significance, 
adorned the walls, while the roof was entirely con¬ 
cealed by a mass of graceful drapery, illuminated by 
colored lanterns. 
The external features of the occasion may be 
methodically noticed, but the impression produced 
by the harmonious blending of hundreds of voices 
and instruments iu the performance of some of 
Beethover’s compositions, cannot be described. 
The festival has elicited much kindly feeling and 
Chicago considers it a compliment to be chosen as 
the theater of such exhibitions. f. s. j. 
Written for Moore's Rural New-Yorker. 
THE DYING POET. 
Written for Moore’s Rnral New-Yorker, 
RECOMPENSE. 
Br A. J. II. DEV, ANNE 
SUGGESTED BY ONE OF GOTTSCHALK’S “MEDITATIONS. 
How oft the weary way of life 
We walk with chilled endeavor, 
For right seems vanquished in the strife 
And wrong to triumph ever. 
We turn away,—with scorn we say 
“ Life’e weapons mnEt be carnal; 
Who in the fray, would win lhe day 
Must tread on bands fraternal.” 
We see the greed for sordid gain, 
We see men vanquish honor. 
Till earnest truth seems, dead, in sooth, 
With contumely on her! 
And hearts for gold see bonght and sold, 
And love crushed by ambition, 
And friendships old grown strange and'cold 
And trust chilled by suspicion I 
But O, my friends, wbate'er portends, 
Keep we onr sonls unspotted; 
No brothers pain their whiteness stain, 
God counts the wrongs allotted! 
Whom men call vanquished in this life,— 
Judged by warped humaD vision,— 
God crowns as victors in the strife, 
In realms of life elysian I 
O, faith in man! 0, hope and trust I 
O, charities the purest 1 
Ye are not dead; each heath the dust 
Of earthliness endurest t 
Have faith sublime; in God’s good time 
Will unto those he given 
Who in the fight wear garments white, 
The recompense of Heaven! 
Van Buren Center, N. Y., June, ’68. N. 
I kissed her in the eves of May. 
As on her mother’s breast she lay; 
Her breath was sweet as new-mown hay 
A babt, in whose blessed eyes 
Still lingered, as in soft surprise, 
Borne recollections of the skies. 
I saw her, as, with dancing hopes, 
She lift ed up the morning slopes — 
Her young neck like an antelope’s : 
A child, whose life was like the play 
Of fountains, that, with suuny spray, 
Make music all the livelong day. 
Then, underneath the rosy noons, 
1 heard her murmur loving tunes, 
With heart as passionate as June’s; 
A maiden, o'er whose llfc’e repose 
The wondrous heaven of love arose, 
To rale its tender ebbs and flows. 
When summer's amber grain was mown 
A round the golden harvest throne, 
I saw her girt with virgin zone; 
But, through the autumn’s ruddy round, 
She walked, in wifely graces bound, 
With motherhood supremely crown’d! 
And in the pleasant moms of May 
A babe upon her bosom lay; 
Its breath was sweet as new-mown hay. 
Thus Woman’s holiest life she learns: 
From Innocence to Love it yearns— 
From Love to Innocence returns! 
ET OLOFFE THE DREAMEB, 
Resting at last,— never more to be tasting 
Water that words cannot turn into wine,— 
Pillowed in quiet that seems everlasting, 
Struggling no more to make human, divine. 
Resting at last.—with the shadow of sadness 
Soothing the eyelids to languid repose; 
Calming the scorn that has robbed life of gladness, 
Kissing the tears that have jeweled Its wees. 
Chant the Te Deum.'— let no miserere 
Waken the symphonied anthem of song; 
What if the poor heart be wasted and weary?— 
Minor-keyed closes will tone the soul wrong. 
What is a poet?—ah, learning to suffer, 
Dwelling with sorrow that helps to be strong— 
Climbing the crags that grow sharper and rougher 
Up to the star-heights where silence is song. 
Only a singer, with heart-strings vibrations 
Swept by some roughness or touched by a breath 
Wailing. AJolian-like, soul's desolations, 
Pajaning triumphs for victory’s wreath. 
— Into each poem is life interwoven, 
Woven with faces 1 never have seen— 
Woven with kisses no fond lips have given— 
Woven with love-tones I list for in vain. 
Dying at last 1 —and while summer’s rich blessing 
Glad songs will marranr to woodland and wave, 
Wasting its wealth like a lover's caressing,— 
I shall know God, and the gift that he gave. 
Thicker and closer time’s night-shadows gather, 
Watching for gleams from eternity’s sun— 
Into the valley still further and further, 
Trusting and resting: life’s poem is done. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
THE ETERNAL WORD 
A SERIES OF LETTERS ON HOME TRAINING. - NO. TV. 
No fragment of any army ever survived so many 
battles as the Bible; no citadel ever withstood so 
many sieges; no rock was ever battered by so many 
Btorms. And yet it stands. It has seen the rise and 
downfall of Daniel’s four empires. Assyria be¬ 
queaths a few mutilated figures to the riches of our 
national museum. Media and Persia, like Babylon, 
which they have conquered, have been weighed in 
the balance and found wanting. Greece faintly 
survives in its historic fame: “ ’Tis living Greece no 
more;” and iron Rome of the Ckosars is held in 
precarious occupation by a feeble hand. Yet the 
book which foretells all this survives. While 
nations, kings, philosophers, systems and Institu¬ 
tions have died away, the Bible engages now men’s 
deepest thoughts, is examined by the keenest in¬ 
tellects, stands revered before the highest tribunals, 
is more read, and sifted, and debated, more devoutly 
loved, and more vehemently assailed, more defended 
and more denied, more industriously translated, 
more freely given to the world, more honored and 
more abused than any book the world ever saw. 
It survives all changes, itself unchanged—it moves 
all minds, yet is moved by none; it sees all things 
decay, itself incorruptible; it sees myriads of other 
books engulfed in the stream of time, yet Is borne 
along triumphantly on the wave; and will be borne 
along till the mystic angel shall plant hla foot upon 
the sea, and swear by Him who liveth forever and 
ever, that time shall be no longer. “For all Ueshis 
as grass. The grass witheretk, and the flower there¬ 
of falleth away; but the Word of the Lord eadureth 
forever .”—Christian Observer. 
BT MRS. LAURA E. LTMAN, 
Dovecote, June, 1868. 
Dear Mart : — How strange it is that children of 
the same parents, born In precisely the same circum¬ 
stances, so far as we can see, will yet be so totally 
unlike each other! My three children are as differ¬ 
ent in every respect as though they were no kin. 
And I find that in food, in clothing, in government, 
they each require quite a separate system of man¬ 
agement. Carrie, the oldest, and in her eighth 
year, is a warm-blooded, active, restless, sunny- 
tempered child, whom my sister Em. calls “ an 
incessant tornado.” Every minute she must be 
doing something. “Ma, may 1 knit? Ma, may I 
sew? Ma, may I play with my doll?" I am often 
puzzled as to the best mode of directing her activity, 
and controlling her will, for she is extremely fond of 
having her own way. Sometimes I fear I am not 
6trict enough with her, for she is always so pleasant 
with all her persistency that my good nature yields 
to her wishes in spite of my judgment. 
Nettie, the second daughter, is totally different 
from Carrie. She sllpB about the house quietly as 
a kitten, Is always amused with her blocks, her doll, 
her little toys, and a word or a look is sufficient to 
check her whenever she requires restraint of any 
kind. J a m ie, the baby, is like neither of the girls; not 
so restless as Carrie, nor as quiet as Nettie, 1 can 
already see that 1 shall have something to do to sub¬ 
ject his will to mine. 
I want to study my children, and understand them 
thoroughly, so as to give them just that training and 
development which will form in them the most per¬ 
fect character, I shall he very thankful If you will 
make any suggestions that may rise to your mind as 
you read this letter. And I wish, too, you would 
give me your ideas as to punishment in families. 
Have you tried the sugar plumming system recom¬ 
mended by Henry Ward Beecher ? Is that old 
Scriptural instrument Solomon speaks of to be reck- 
a relic of feudal barbarism like the 
A BIRD IN THE HAND IS WORTH TWO IN THE BUSH. 
Contentment has been much written of and talk¬ 
ed about, and times without number has been held 
up before the world as a virtue mankind ought eara- 
eetly to cultivate. But content is, after all, only a 
very conservative element in human nature. It 
would never build ships, and discover continents, 
and people wildernesses. In fact, contentment iB 
but another name for conservatism ; and conserva¬ 
tism, considered apart from all political significance 
whatever, Is the enemy rather than the friend of 
what the Rural has so Long made its watch¬ 
word—“ Progress and Improvement.” Conserva¬ 
tism clings to the old ways, and distrusts every¬ 
thing savoring of change. All the law it kaows is 
comprised in possession; to all suggestions regard¬ 
ing conquest it replies by a firmer grasp on that 
which it holds, and an emphatic quotation of the 
old saw—“ A bird in the hand is worth two in the 
bush." 
We protest, then, against too implicit trust in 
this proverb, and others of a similar tenor. “A 
rolling stone gathers no moss,” 6omo conservative 
old wiseacre once declared, and descendants of his 
are continually echoing the declaration. What if 
it he true? 16 It the sole purpose of a stone to 
gather moss ? Is a moss-covered stone any better 
or handsomer than one bright and smooth from re¬ 
peated rollings? Is not moss, in short, an out¬ 
growth of conservatism ? But it is not true, in the 
sense intended. We could name many, who are 
classed as “rolling stones” among mankind, who 
have gathered mopr; 1 ‘ moss” than our conservative 
proverb maker and all his descendants ever dreamed 
of. Their success is due wholly to the fact that they 
let go of possession and cling to faith. A promise of 
splendid realizations was by them considered of 
more value that a certainty of holding what they 
had. Their faith saw the two birds in the bush and 
believed they could be caught; they dropped the 
one in hand,—and the birds were caught. 
It is not truest wisdom to educate ourselves up 
to the line of proverbs like these. The rather 
should we seek to broaden our lives in all their 
outreach. Educating by faith opens new avenues 
for us, and enables us to grasp whatever of an im¬ 
proving nature they may contain. And educating 
by faith is a very easy thing. It is the most natural 
education, too, which we know anything of. The 
farmer who sows his grain is realizing it, for him¬ 
self, and for his children. He sows in faith, and 
his faith in the sowing begets faith in the young 
minds around him. They see precious kernels com¬ 
mitted to the earth, and know that the quickening 
mold will develop therein a hidden life,—that the 
harvest will return an hundred fold. 
The supreme lessou of the harvest-time is one of 
faith. It demonstrates completely the fallacy of 
the bird-in-the-band theory. What if the husband¬ 
man were to say “A seed in the hand is worth two 
in the earth ?” He would live on possession until 
his supplies were exhausted, and would then be 
compelled to borrow from the granaries of his 
more sensible neighbors. It is barely possible that 
his faithless theory might survive through one sea¬ 
son, but we imagine he would bury it the next 
spring, with his buried seed, and that, unlike those, 
it would never find a resurrection. 
Our good old Solomons who penned the world’s 
proverbs were doubtless men of knowledge, but— 
and we would do their memories no irreverence— 
their conservative tendencies were far too strongly 
marked. Their teachings, taken literally, are not 
exactly what the present age and generation re¬ 
quire. Construe them liberally,—giving an oppor¬ 
tunity to act comparatively upon them,—and they 
are all well enough Say to a man “A bird in the 
hand is worth two in the bush— if yon can't climb," 
and we will subscribe to the sentiment. Bat the 
majority of men can climb, A great many more 
could if they only had faith in themselves. What 
the latter need is less of such u proverbial philoso¬ 
phy” as they have always listened to, and more of 
an active, aggressive kind, bom of an earnest, sin¬ 
cere belief iu the future. 
A faith in the possibilities will, in the round of 
years, win a large contribution from the apparently 
impossible. The Nineteenth Century has done more 
to educate this faith than any other since the world 
began. What man can do it has shown in a marvel¬ 
ous manner; and the vision of what man may do, 
which it opens before us, is grandly sublime. De¬ 
cades are telling more wonderful stories now than 
centuries used to, and simply because the idea of 
possession is subordinated to that of faith. Lazy 
Content sits down with its conservative friends, 
and waits to see if the future will bring anything 
to its door; but active Ambition beckons the future 
on, and with ready hand wrests from its embrace 
the rich successes it were slow to yield! 
A delicate and beautiful hand is considered as 
the especial privilege of people of leisure. It is 
seldom found among those women who are obliged 
to work hard, though they may be endowed with 
fine eyes, a beautiful mouth, or all other female 
charms. We are told that small and delicate hands 
are more common in the United States than else¬ 
where; but. perhaps we should hesitate in accepting 
this compliment to the good looks of our women at 
the expense of their industry. 
A well-made hand should be delicate and some¬ 
what long. The back should be just plump enough 
to prevent the veins from being too prominent. The 
fingers must be long, pulpy and tapering, forming 
little graduated columns of perfect proportion. 
When the hand is opeD there should be little 
dimples at the knuckles, which should be slightly 
prominent when the hand is closed. 
Each finger ought to be gently curved on the 
back, and somewhat flat on the palmar side. The 
thumb should not pass beyond the middle joint of 
the fore-finger, which should terminate when ex¬ 
tended precisely at the base of the nail of the middle 
one. The ring-finger ought, not to extend more than 
half-way up the nail of the same, and the little finger 
should be exactly of the length of the two joints of 
its neighbor. The palm of the hand, when open, 
should be somewhat deep, and bordered with a 
slightly eurved and pulpy cushion of flesh. The 
skin of the whole should he delicate, Bmooth, 
mostly white, but here and there slightiy tinted 
with rose color. The fingers must have an air of 
ease and flexibility. The common habit of stretch¬ 
ing their joints with the view of making them suap 
is fatal to their regularity of proportion and beauty. 
— Harper's. 
One’s pleasure, after all, is much affected by the 
quality of one’s neighbors, even though one may 
not be on speaking terms with them. A pleasant, 
bright face at a window is surely better than a dis¬ 
contented cross one; and a house that has the air 
of beingjinhubited is preferable to closed shutters 
and unsocial blinds, excluding every ray of sunlight 
and sympathy. 
We like to see the glancing, cheerful lights 
through the windows, of a cold night, or watch 
them, as evening deepens, gradually creeping from 
the parlor to the upper stories of the houses near 
us. We like to watch the little children going in 
and out the door, to play, or to school. We like to 
see a white-robed baby danciug up and down at the 
window in its mother's arms, or the father reading 
Ms newspaper there at evening, ®r any of these 
cheerful, impromptu home glimpses, which, though 
we are no Paul Pry, we will assert go to make a 
pleasant neighborhood to those who live for com¬ 
fort instead of show. 
Sad, indeed, some mornings, on waking, it is to 
see the blinds down and the shutters closed, and 
know that death’s angel, while it spared our thresh¬ 
old, had crossed that of our cheerful neighbor. 
Sad to miss the white-robed baby from the window, 
and 6ee the little coffin at nightfall borne into the 
house. Sad to see innocent little faces pressed at 
eventide against the window pane, watching for the 
“dear papa” who has gone to his long home. 
It is a sweet, a joyful thing, to he a sharer with 
Christ in anything. All enjoyments wherein He is 
not, are hitter to a soul that loves Him, and all suffer¬ 
ings with Him are Bweet. The worst things of Christ 
are more truly delightful than the best things of the 
world; His afflictions are sweeter than their pleas¬ 
ures, His “ reproach” more glorious than their hon¬ 
ors, and more rich than treasures, as Moses account¬ 
ed them. Love delights in likeness and commun¬ 
ion, not only in things otherwise pleasant, but in 
the hardest and harshest things, which have not 
anything iu them desirable, but only that likeness. 
So that this thought is very sweet to a heart pos¬ 
sessed with this love. What does the world by its 
hatred and persecution, and revilings for the sake 
of Chri6t, but make me more like Him, give me a 
greater share with Him in that which He did so wil¬ 
lingly undergo for me ? “ When He was sought for 
to be made a king,” as St. Bernard remarks, “ He 
escaped; but when He was brought to the cross, 
He freely yielded himself.” And shall I shrink and 
creep back from what He calls me to suffer for His 
sake? Yea, even all my other troubles and suffer¬ 
ings I will desire to have stamped thus, with this 
conformity to the sufferings of Christ, in the hum¬ 
ble, obedient, cheerful endurance of them, and the 
giving up my will to my Father’s .—Archbishop 
Leighton. 
oned obsolete 
ordeal by fire, the pillory, the whipping - post and 
slavery? Yours, Julia. 
The chief distinction in society between the “ at¬ 
tentions” of the thoroughly graceful gentleman, 
and one who simply knows the rules, is that the 
former pays them without attracting notice. A lady 
hardly realizes that anything is done for her — she 
only knows that the gentleman is agreeable. 
Does the young man ask how he shall cultivate 
this unconscious gracefulness? Some men, the 
reader says, have the the gift by nature. True—but 
with rare exceptions, nature declines to make her 
gifts available without culture and care. There is 
but one way to cultivate the ease of which we speak. 
Never willingly allow an opportunity to pay a grace¬ 
ful attention to pass without taking advantage of it. 
Never, we say—not even with the sister, or mother, 
or most intimate cousinly friend. It is a mistake to 
regard these things as “ too formal ”—they are for¬ 
mal only when they are awkward. There is not a 
single polite attention called for in society which is 
not appropriate at home. If a sister drop a hand; 
kerchief, do not give her an opportunity to pick it 
up herself —unless you wish to be constrained and 
slightly awkward when you are called upon to pick 
up a handkerchief in the drawing-room. If a mother 
is getting into a carriage offer her a hand, even if it 
be purely a matter of form. 
Nor are these attentions from young men to their 
near relatives valuable and called for only as matters 
of practice. Genuine politeness demands them at 
home as truly as it demands them in society.— Even¬ 
ing Mail. 
IRISH WOMEN 
Home, June, 1368. 
Dear Julia : —The last topic of your letter I will 
take up first, so as to have done ■with it. It is like 
rhubarb and quinine in the nursery, always bitter 
and disagreeable, but sometimes requisite, and when 
skillfully administered very beneficial. But the skill 
with which it is given has as much to do with the 
cures it effects as the drug itself, I like Mr. Beech¬ 
er’s plan of “sugar plumming” children into virtue, 
and can testify to its wonderful efficacy; yet, I think, 
and I presume the reverend gentleman will agree 
with me, that sometimes a different regimen is called 
for. The old dispensation is passed away. We are 
not come to the mount that might, not be touched, 
and so terrible was the sight that even Moses did 
■exceedingly fear and quake; but we are come to the 
new gospel of peace, which, though it has threaten* 
ings reserved for the ungodly, relies upon love more 
than fear; wins by its attractive virtue and infinite 
mercies rather than commands by its terrors. 
Though I find rewards powerful in securing the 
best results as to obedience and general good be¬ 
havior, yet occasionally I do find it necessary to 
resort to Solomon’s corrective; and when such sad 
ceremony must occur, I generally preface it with 
the question, “What does the Bible tell children?” 
The answer to which is prompt, though not always 
cheerful, “Obey your parents.” “What did Solo¬ 
mon say?” “Whip him, make him mind.” And 
thus the correction comes as from Divine authority, 
and is proportionably efficacious in its effects. 
Perhaps the writ of habeas corpus and the trial by 
jury are as great proofs of advancement in civiliza¬ 
tion as are the printing press and the locomotive. 
Let the mother be as modern in her ideas of disci¬ 
pline as she is in those of ordinary usage. No soli¬ 
tary confinement, no setting in the pillory of a dark 
closet, no Inquisitorial rod hung up ever in view to 
terrify the child into obedience. Keep it, but have 
it hid away in a dark closet to he brought forth on 
rare and solemn occasions. The code of Draco, 
which prescribed death as the penalty of every 
offense, was long ago abolished. Capital punish¬ 
ment is now reserved only for willful murder; so 
let corporal punishment be visited only upon willful 
disobedience; and judicially administered — not be¬ 
cause you feel like it. Better that teu guilty persons 
should go unpunished than that one innocent man 
suffer—and better let ten faults go uncorrected than 
punish once unjustly. The recollection of the one 
The most remarkable element, the richest, and 
certainly the most full of life, of this land, so life 
full, is the population itself. No European race, 
that of the Caucasian excepted, can compete with it 
in beauty. The Irish blood is of purity and distinc¬ 
tion, especially among the females, which strikes 
all strangers with astonishment. The transparent 
whiteness of the skin, the absorbing attraction, 
which iu France is but the attribute of one woman 
in a thousand, is here the general type. The daugh¬ 
ter of the poor man as well as the ti ne lady, possesses 
an opal or milky tint, the arms of a statue, the foot 
and hand of a duchess, and the bearing of a queen. 
In Ireland there are as many different physiogno¬ 
mies as individualities. Rags, misery and manual 
labor have no effect on those native endowments. 
Even beneath the thatched cabin of the poor peas¬ 
ant, in the midst #f the potato fields, which yield 
the sole nourishment, those traits at times develop 
themselves with unmistakable vividness. In the 
most -wretched streets of the olden quarters of 
Dublin, the most ideal tintings of the pencil would 
grow pale before the beauty of the children; and in 
the compact crowd which each day occupies the gal¬ 
leries of Merrion Square, there Is certainly the most 
magnificent collection of human beings it is possible 
to meet. Bloudes, with black eyes, brunettes, with 
blue, are by no means rare. The race is as strong as 
it is handsome, as vigorous as it is charming. The 
girls of Connemara, with their queenly shoulders 
and eyes of fire, would put to shame at this day 
those dau ghters of the East from whom they are said 
to be descended.— French I'ancr. 
Worldly Mindedness.— It is our great unhappi¬ 
ness that the soul is always in the senses, and the 
senses are always upon the world; we converse with 
the world, we talk of the world, we think of the 
world, we project for the world, and what can this 
produce but a carnal frame of spirit? We must 
meditate on heavenly things; we must have our 
conversation in heaven; we must accustom our¬ 
selves to inward aud heavenly pleasures, if we will 
have heavenly minds. We must let no day pass 
wherein we must draw ourselves from the body, 
aud sequester ourselves from the world, that we 
may converse with God and our own souls. This 
wiil soon enable us to disdain the low and beggarly 
satisfaction of the outward man, and make ns long 
to be set free from the weight of this corruptible 
body, to breathe in purer air, and to take our fill 
of refined and spiritual pleasures. 
The higher circles—The rings around the moon. 
The Lover’s Revenge—Marriage. 
The hardships of the ocean—Iron-clads. 
Open-air services—Police duties. 
The strength of cheese—Its mite. 
The spirit of the press—New cider. 
Tables that are always being turned over—Time¬ 
tables. 
Something you’re always coming to blows with— 
Your nose. 
The most worthless of all purses is that filled with 
borrowed money. 
The leaves of the forest are ill-bred. They are 
always whispering in company. 
Like cures like. Sulphur comes from Vesuvius, 
therefore it is good for eruptions. 
■? 
Eve is said to be the only woman who never 
threatened to go and live with her mother. 
“ 0 for a thousand tongues ” — as an urchin re¬ 
marked when inside a molasses hogshead. 
The difference between a miller and a sexton is, 
the one tolls for a living, and the other for a death. 
Why is the letter “ u” of more value than cream to 
a dairymaid? Because it makes “better" “butter.” 
The more a woman’s waist is shaped like an hour 
glass the quicker will the sands of her life run out. 
It is not until the flower has fallen off that the fruit 
begins to ripen. So in life it i6 when the romance is 
past that the practical usefulness begins. 
Balzac says women at forty-five often have new 
and stronger affections than ever before, and their 
love is deeper aud more disinterested than when 
they are young. 
Queen Isabella is unable to find a Prince that 
will marry her eldest daughter, a young beauty with 
dark flashing eyes. All Courts decline respectfully 
to enter into the bonds of relationship with Her 
Castilian Majesty, although the young Princess is 
rather good looking, and is said to be a very amia¬ 
ble girl. 
Mb. and Mrs. Howe of Vermont, one 90 and the 
other 89 years old, have lived together the remarka¬ 
ble period of 71 years. Of their eight living children, 
the oldest is 70 and the youngest 42, and they have 
42 grand children and 45 great-grand children. 
What a family gathering they might have! 
Monograms are the rage now. We see them on 
cards, note paper, envelopes, pocket handkerchiefs, 
etc. The wealthy and fashionable have monogram 
carpets, and a rich New York lady has recently in¬ 
troduced a monogram China set. To exhibit it to a 
circle of ardently-devoted but exceedingly serious 
friends, she gave what she called a “monogram 
party,” the other day. 
Humility. —Beware of that pride which makes a 
parade of being humble, and avoid all occasions of 
showing thyself before men; feel thyself as nothing, 
and then wilt thou act as if self were quite put aside; 
speak not of thy sins; do not distinguish thyself by 
any unusual plainness of dress or of manner, but 
seek to behave in that way which will attract the 
least notice from others; the test of thy sincerity 
will he the feelings with which thou bravest, not the 
taunts or the scorn of others, but the neglect—the 
being entirely passed over by persons of whom thou 
thinkest with respect.—Mori Meditations, edited by 
Dr. Hook. 
^ afterwards brought up, so when the correction is 
£3 over let there be no reference to it again, no upbraid- 
& ing, no twitting, nothing but cheerful tones and 
kindly words. We must discipline our children as 
i God does Ills,—not in anger or resentment or irri- 
tation of temper, but in -wisdom and love. And 
Cy stripes heavily weighted with moral disapprobation 
and administered with judicial calmness may be 
otherwise light. 
!§% The other side of the question is vastly more 
Live to be useful. Live to give light. Live to 
accomplish the end for which you were made, and 
quietly and steadily shine on, trying to do your 
duty. For those who are enabled through grace 
to shine Os lights here, shall Bhine as suns and stars 
for ever and ever. 
Wicked men stumble over straws in the way 
to heaven, but climb over hills in k the way to 
destruction. 
The greatest glory is not in never falling but in 
rising every time that we fall. 
