Mm' JO qi at intuit. 
( LOOKING OUT INTO THE NIGHT. 
BT JOHN G. SAXE. 
Looking out into the night, 
I beheld in space afar 
Yonder beaming blazing star; 
And I marvel at the might 
Of the Giver of the rays, 
And I worship as I gaze, 
Looking out into the night. 
Looking out into the night, 
I espy two lovers near, 
And their happy words I hear, 
While their Bolemn troth they plight; 
And I bless the loving twain, 
Half in pleasure, half in pain, 
Looking out into the night. 
Looking out into the night, 
Lo! a woman passing by, 
Glancing ’round with anxious eye, 
Tearful—fearful of the light; 
And I think what might have been 
But for treachery and sin— 
Looking out into the night. 
Looking out into the night, 
I behold a distant sail 
Roughly beaten by the gale, 
Till it vanishes from sight; 
And I ponder on the strife 
Of our fleeting human Life- 
Looking out into the night. 
Looking out into the night, 
I bethink me of the rest 
And the rapture of the blest 
In the land where all is light ; 
Sitting on the heavenly shore, 
Weeping never-never more 
“ Looking out into the night l” 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
HOW MARJORY WENT TO WASHINGTON; 
OR, THE WILL ANT) THE WAY. 
BY LIZZIE M. BOYNTON. 
IGoncluded from page 392, last number.] 
CHAPTER V. 
Marjory was just bidding good-night to the 
hostess, when a look, rather than movement, of a 
gentleman who had been attempting to speak to her 
for seme moments, detained her. With the ostensi¬ 
ble purpose of giving her a bouquet, he approached 
and said iu a low tone,— 
“ Will Miss May oblige me by giving a prompt 
answer to the note she will find awaiting her? ” 
Something in his tone and manner intimated what 
that note contained, and with a decided “ Yes," she 
left the rooms, knowing that she had a battle to 
light. 
Marjory May was ambitious. Even in child¬ 
hood, when at play, she never “ pretended ” that 
she was a poor woman, with a sick husband and 
several hungry children, — but rather that she was 
Queen Victoria, with subjects willing and ready to 
obey her commands. Once, when only ten years 
of age, an old gipsey had told her that she would 
marry a poor, inefficient man. “Very well,” an¬ 
swered Madge, “ then I must be rich and strong.” 
With a keen sense of the position and wealth it 
was Ills power to confer who asked her to be hia 
wife, Madge read the note containing this request. 
A PRIM A DONNA AT HOME. 
The Paris correspondent of Harper’s Bazar has 
paid a visit to Mile. Nilsson, the charming Swedish 
cantatriee who i s just now so very popular, and 
gossips thus pleasantly about her: 
She lives at 176 Rue de Rivoli, in a very modest 
suite of apartments on the fourth floor, in a mag¬ 
nificent house, however, and her little balcony looks 
out on the palace of the Tuileries, where she receives 
a hearty welcome whenever she is announced. It is 
a veritable bird’e-nest that holds the Swedish night¬ 
ingale—modest, elegant and chaste. The little 
drawing-room has a single window; it is not paper¬ 
ed, but is painted iu wide panels with gilt frescoes. 
The white marble mantel is adorned with a nymph 
in gilt bronze, and two blue and gold Sevres vases. 
The window is hung with white muslin embroidered 
with clusters of stars. The furniture Is of skyblue 
brocatclle. Over against the window stands a ma¬ 
hogany piano, the confidante and echo of that voice 
which is compared by its admirers to that of 
Malibran. 
The bedroom la hung with pink chintz sprigged 
with gray; the bed is canopied with white curtains 
embroidered with clusters of stare; the bedstead is 
white threaded with pink; an armoire a glace to 
match is in front of the bed, beside which is a little 
fur rug with a white fox in the middle, a souvenir of 
some rural hunting excursion. The whole furniture 
seems the realization of a young girl’s dreams. A 
few beautiful wreaths of fresh exotics hanging about 
the room, alone indicate the recent triumphs of the 
songstress. 
Mile. Nilseou, the worthy successor of her coun¬ 
trywoman, Jenny Lind, bears little resemblance to 
her Swedish sister; she is thinner, taller, and of a 
prouder bearing. She has a very beautiful face, and 
large, brilliant eyes, with a peculiar expression and 
of an undefinable shade, Her pale gold hair appears 
very abundant, and her mouth is grave and some¬ 
what disdainful. Her complexion has not the 
brilliancy usual to brunettes, for which reason she 
looks far better at evening embellished by the arti¬ 
fices of the stage. The prevailing characteristic of 
her physiognomy is extreme purity, united to great 
will. If there be a secret in her artist soul, it is an 
honorable one, and will be religiously kept. 
-—■ - 
OLD MAIDS, AND WHY. 
Plainly, neither wit, beauty, nor virtue is neeee- ' 
sary to the woman who would marry. We tre- 
qently see married ladles who are ugly or shallow; 
and the light woman seldom fails to win a husband. 
Neither is it needful to have been sought. We 
have all known matches where the men have suc¬ 
cumbed to a persistent courtship on the part of the 
women. Audacity does a great deal, particularly 
when accompanied by address. Many an old maid 
is the victim of her own delicacy, or of a too exo.lu- ^ 
slve reading of the romances of chivalry. But, 
whatever the cause may be, here is an army of ' 
women who were made to give and receive love, to 
feel the arms of children about their necks, to see C 
beings of their own fiesh and blood growing up 8 
about them, waxing as they wane, yet who are f 
doomed to perpetual loneliness and sterility, denied 
the crown of womanhood, fated to perish and be T 
forgotten. v 
Pitiable it may be, but scarcely laughable. What t 
shall they do with all the hoarded sweetuess which 
was to have welcomed the husband and taught the b 
babe?—what with the words of cheer and counsel 11 
IpstrUattg. 
THE SNOW AT FREDERICKSBURG. 
BT LAURA 0. REDDEN. 
Drift over the slopes of the sunshine land, 
O wonderful, wonderful snow! 
Oh, pure as the breast of a virgin saint 1 
Drift tenderly, soft, and slow, 
Over the slopes of the sunrise land, 
And Into the haunted dells 
Of the forests of pine, where the sobbing winds 
Are tuning their memory bells :— 
Into the foreBte of sighing pines, 
And over those yellow slopes 
That seem but the work of the cleaving plow, 
But cover so many hopes I 
They are many indeed, and etraightly made, 
Not shapen with loving-care ; 
But the souls let out and the broken blades 
May never be counted here! 
Fall over those lonely hero graves 
O delicate-dropping snow I 
Like the blessing of God’s unfaltering love, 
On the warrior heads below; 
Like the tender sigh of a mother's soul, 
As she waiteth and watcheth for one 
Who never came back from the sunrise land 
When the terrible war was done. 
And here, where lleth the high of heart, 
Drift, white as the bridal veil 
That will never be worn by the drooping girl 
Who sitteth afar, so pale; 
Fall, fast as the tears of the suffering wife, 
Who stretchel h despairing hands 
Out to the blood-rich battle-fields 
That crimson the eastern sands. 
Fall in thy virgin tenderness, 
O delicate snow! and cover 
The graves of our heroes, sanctified, 
Husband, and son, and lover. 
Drift tenderly over those yellow slopes, 
And mellow our deep distress, 
And put us in mind of the shriven souls, 
And the mantles of righteousness. 
-«■ »- 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
BEAUTY. 
Nature is full of compensations. She keeps a 
debt and credit account with all her works. Noth¬ 
ing is quite perfect, faultless; and yet nothing is 
without its perfections. She contradicts herself, or 
rather, she always supplements her badness with an 
over-balancing goodness : to the thorn she adds the 
rose, and to the plainness of the mignonette, a rav¬ 
ishing fragrance. A plain lace shows nothing of the 
noble, intellectual soul, that we find (as one dis¬ 
covers the trailing arbutus, by close scrutiny under 
brown, torn, autumn leaves) lying beneath; while 
the trifling, imbecile, often wicked heart, is fre¬ 
quently veiled by a countenance of “milk and roses.” 
Yet, beauty is the divine gift, as the ancients 
called it, and none but fool6 scoff at those who 
seek to obtain or preserve it. As individuals, and 
as a race, can we, by taking thought and trouble, 
become more beautiful ? Undoubtedly; but never, 
while the sun shines, by aid only of cosmetics and 
washes. We are not like houses that may be scoured 
and re-painted, and thus made to look young and 
fresh; but rather like shrubs and flowers that must 
be properly nourished and watered. If we improve 
in beauty, it must be “ by an inner and spiritual 
-»-- - — ' --O---uuv HUiUO L/l LUDCI UHU LUUuoci f . . * 
Conscious of her power to shine in gay society, and which were to have strengthened and encouraged ffrace * not by 8a o« Y^rd and visible sign.” 
_!iL_ 11 . 1 .__ . i ( At_ 4 __ . « nr. .. . ^ mi. _ J.A!_ ..i . <• , 
with an innate lore of admiration, this was to her 
no slight temptation. Suddenly there came before 
hex the prophecies of friends, that with her senti¬ 
mental ideas of love in a cottage she would walk 
through the wood and at last pick up that inevitable 
crooked stick. However, she hushed these memo¬ 
ries and calmly looked into her own heart; she 
looked, and realized that above all desire for 
position or wealth was the great, intense longing 
for a congenial, exalted love. Then she thought 
of him who asked her to be his wife; calmly she 
dispossessed him of his titles, fame and wealth, aud 
then asked, if she should meet him on the farm 
or in the counting-room would 6he recognize her 
true prince ? “ No,” answered her heart, and the 
battle was decided. 
those lov ed ones ? Where shall they employ all the 
little innocent feminine wiles with which they 
would have embellished home ? Where exercise 
that gentle authority which is the prerogative of 
the matron ? Whom can they be proud of ? How 
shall they get breath when all these clinging ten¬ 
drils, whose nature it is to grow outward, are 
turned hack upon the heart ? Of course the old 
maid perceives that many of her married friends do 
not lead enviable lives; but she regrets not what is, 
but what might be, what God meant should be.’ 
Moreover, reason and philosophize as she may, 
she cannot forget that the Mother of Sorrows was 
also the Mother of Love ,—The Bound Table. 
The foundation-stone of the whole temple of 
physical beauty is health. It is wonderful to trace 
the ravages that a few days’, and even hours’ illness, 
will make in the most perfect face. Our beauties 
and belles should remember this, and guard them¬ 
selves with “eternal vigilance” from colds and 
coughs, thin shoes, bare arms and late suppers; 
pass by rich pastries, gravies, preserves and pickles, 
as they would pass a dwelling signaled with the red 
flag of small pox. 
If to these precautions they will superadd sweet¬ 
ness of temper, which prevents wrinkles and frowns 
and infiltrates every pore with the sort of radiance 
that sunshine adds to vegetable life,—a neatness 
--a-- t learned from the rose-petals,— an unfailing supply 
A Seville Glove Shop.—T he counter is adorned ° l fresh air £ atbered Uv0 or three hours’ diligent 
Principle hud won the victory over ambition aud with a row of small cushions, the probable use of seareh through ?len ' forest and PWk — the same 
n J A A - Air. . . _ ! A ' * A m .Mit-i V- f iu4 ill 1 X? f _ _ A 1 i 11 
pride. As the forces were retreating, pride whis¬ 
pered, “ What if you never meet with your ideal ?— 
think of the lost opportunity.” Principle replied, 
“ Better live life alone than to sacrifice self-respect 
and love to position aud fame.” 
Strengthened by the victory, Madge added a 
deeper shade to her writings, and thus, unassisted 
and alone, entered the other thorny path that 
ascends to the Temple of Fame. 
The successful politician read her earnest, honest 
reply, and after his first intense surprise, rather 
congratulated himself, since he discovered by her 
note that she would be “ no submissive wife.” 
That night a letter, containing these words, was 
addressed to Gut Gordon : 
“Year letter, with its strong proofs of friendship, was 
a real, good gift to me. Be my best friend, since now, 
more than ever before, do I need sympathy and aid, lest 
in my attempts to walk alone I faint by the way-side. 
Conscious that life for me means work, I sometimes 
shrink from the thought that Providence intends I shall 
solve the problem alone.” 
Such, however, was not to be her destiny. Having 
gone to Washington by the use of her needle, she re¬ 
turned by the use of her pen. At home, she asked 
God for “patience,” and so commenced her life- 
work, i. e,, “ the doing with her might whatsoever 
her hand found to do.” 
Two years passed, and without fear or misgiving, 
before God and man, she promised to be a true, lov- 
ing wife to her best friend and most congenial 
companion, Guy Gordon. 
As you will remember, it was in her own beautitul 
home that I first heard this story. In conclusion 
she said: 
“ I have traveled much, since then, but never have 
I experienced the same intense enjoyment as during 
that first journey, whose first stages led through the 
prosy route of a rag carpet. God has given me 
much, very much to he thankful for; but never have 
I so realized His goodness as I did a year agone, when 
I read that the ‘ Honorable M. C.’ had sacrificed all 
principle and betrayed the party who placed him in 
power. Better a thousand times live life -with a 
pure, true ideal, than to be hound irrevocably to 
a reality that one may not respect." 
Re-echoiuj^her thought, we conclude our story. 
/ Girls, If you would be successful, be not deterred 
5 by slight obstacles, and never sacrifice principle or 
^ self-respect to wealth or position. Better, a thou¬ 
sand times, be the loved and loving wife in some 
i cottage home in an obscure Western village, than an 
<L unloving wife in the White House, with a nation 
t of admirers. 
/ -- 
S, Velvet suits are fashionable aud elegant, whether 
n I in entire suits or with an underskirt of some con¬ 
s' trusting color. 
which gives rise to a variety of wild conjectures on 
the part ef a stranger. These are intended for 
ladies’ elbows to rest upon, while the shop assist- 
tan ts (always men) pull the gloves on for them. 
No lady would dream of fitting herself with gloves 
any more than with shoes. As sonoras rather pique 
themselves upon not wearing the same gloves more 
than once, the glove fitting operation has to be 
often repented. Whenever a row of women are 
seen undergoing the operation, the picture is sure 
to be garnished with a fringe of admiring cavaliers. 
-»■> ♦«» -- 
GOSSIPY PARAGRAPHS. 
The belle of Dresden is a Chicago girl who sings 
divinely. 
A new style of panier is talked of It is to be 
made balloon fashion, with a patent inflator. 
It is said that Adalina Patti, on the occasion oi 
her first appearance in Russia, will have a fur man¬ 
tle, costing 30,000 francs, thrown over her shoulders 
by the Emperor. 
Br one decisive argument 
Tom gained liis lovely Kate’s consent 
To fix the wedding day. 
“ Why in euch haste, dear Tom, to wed ? 
I shall not ebauge my mind,” she said. 
“ Bnt. then,” says he, “I may," 
A pretty woman is like a great truth or a great 
happiness, and has no more right to bundle herself 
up under a green veil or any other similar abomina¬ 
tion, than the sun has to put on spectacles. 
There is nothing that adds so much to a woman’s 
beauty as a neat and tasty hood. Many a bachelor 
has lost hia heart when gazing at the sweet features 
of some passing lady, as they peep forth from the 
surrounding fur of a close-fitting hood. But there 
is a hood that disfigures the features of the most 
attractive face, and that is falsehood! 
A Paris fashion writer tells of a new kind of 
head-dress: a garland of flowers so contrived that 
as heat of the dancing room increases, the petals 
gradually open aud fall into the hair, disclosing a 
diamond or ruby heart in each. Thus the crushed 
flowers alter a dance will be replaced before the 
close of the ball by a second head dress. 
A romantic pair in Pennsylvania arc blessed with 
a number of daughters. The eldest was called 
Caro-line; the second, Made-line; tne third, Eve¬ 
line ; the fourth, Ange-line; when lo! the fifth 
made its appearance, and no name could be found 
with the desired termination. Determined, how¬ 
ever, to “fight it out on that line, if it took all 
summer,’ the parents pounced upon a name very 
popular in their neighborhood, and forthwith Lhe 
baby was called Crino-line! 
amouut of intellectual stimulus taken by reading, 
writing and conversation,—with strict observance ot 
the holy table ot “ Laws oi Life " laid down by the 
Infallible Teacher, — we may hope that our race in 
the present and coming generations may draw near 
and nearer the Beautiful One, in whose image and 
likeness inanimate earth became a “living soul.” 
Jefferson City, Mo., 1868. Amelie Pettit. 
-- 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
MENTAL ALIMENT. 
Physiology, like other sciences, is being more 
fully developed in these latter days. Man is be¬ 
ginning to inquire how he may best preserve and 
build up the body; what kinds of, in what propor¬ 
tion and at what intervals, food is to be taken to 
accomplish the greatest possible good. 
The mind requires analogous training for its per¬ 
fect! on. Food for the mind should be selected with 
the utmost discretion. Different mental constitu¬ 
tions require different kinds of nourishment. It 
should be the care of each to know his own peculiar 
wants, and minister to them wisely. 
Intellectual cramming is no more conducive to 
mental growth than gluttony to the highest bodily 
welfare. Omnivorous reading Is a serious fault. 
The world is literally crowded with books, and he 
who thinks he most read all is chargeable with no 
less folly than he who, sitting down to a sumptuous 
repast, thinks he must devour all that is before 
him. Select that which will easily assimilate and 
strengthen. 
Exercise is an indispensable aid, as well for men¬ 
tal as physical digestion. The mind must not only 
be a receiver but a producer. It is well to learn 
what others have thought, but better to originate 
thought within ourselves ; or rather to comprehend 
for ourselves the thought of God expressed in His 
works, and the true philosophy of His dealing with 
the children of men. 
We should not be discouraged at the illimitable 
fields oi knowledge yet before us. It will be the 
delightful employment of heaven to traverse these 
unknown regions. We should rejoice that the 
fountain head of all truth is inexhaustible , that 
through all the ages we need never thirst. In the 
meantime let us improve all our powers according 
to the best of our ability, Time is not long enough, 
and eternity too short, for wasted opportunities. 
Diana. 
- ■ ♦• > 4 |. »- 
The most important truth cannot be too early 
learned, nor the journey that leads heavenward too 
soon begun. The enemy is awake while wc slumber, 
aud if we neglect to cultivate the good seed, his 
tares will cover all the surface. 
UNCONSCIOUS SELFISHNESS. 
There is not a little unconscious selfisimess in 
the matter of politeness. Although there is on the 
froth of what is called politeness a great deal that is 
foolish; yet politeness, in its true signification, is 
only another name for Christianity socially applied; 
and good sense and etiquette are, in point of fact, 
Christian equity and kindness. In the code of po¬ 
liteness there are many things forbidden, and many 
things enjoined, which men who do not consider 
themselves to he disciples of the school of polite¬ 
ness need to have told them. Wc that stand in 
favored positions of society, often judge those that 
have no position, as if they could act as we act. We 
do not consider that their circumstances make'it 
hard, if not impossible, for them to do things that 
we can do easily. The position a man is in mokes a 
difference in little things. A robust man that is 
healthy in every bone and muscle, must take care as 
to what he requires of those that are sick and weak. 
If a man’s nerves are like whip-cords, what con¬ 
tempt he has for a nervous and hysterical person. 
And yet, I take it that persons who are hysterical 
and nervous are not so because they like it, bat be¬ 
cause they cannot help it. A blind man is not so 
well off as if he could see; but if he is blind, what 
are you going to do about it? It is a fact that a 
man who has no skin over his nerves, ha* no skin 
over his nerves, and that he suffers; and you that 
wear rhinoceros hides are not to despise him be¬ 
cause he cannot bear as much as you can. 
There is unconscious selfishness, likewise, in the 
U8e of language. The pain inflicted by the tongue 
is far greater, I think, than the pleasure imparted 
by it. Rudeness of every kind in language is lia¬ 
ble to produce great and unnecessary pain All the 
good there is in decisiveness, directness or brevity, 
is perfectly compatible with being essentially kind. 
But persons who do wrong from iguorance and in¬ 
experience are often censured. Many a word drops 
a seed from us and grows up a thorn-bush m the 
soul on which it falls .—Henry Ward Beecher in 
Herald of Health. 
JfaMatJt £* ending. 
ADVICE TO THE MARRIED. 
Zchokke, in one of his tales, gives the following 
excellent advice: 
In the first solitary hour after the ceremony, take 
the bridegroom and demand a solemn vow oi him 
and give him a vow in return. Promise each other, 
sacredly, never, not even in jest, to wrangle with 
each other—never to handy words or to indulge in 
the least ill-humor. Never—I say, never! Wrang¬ 
ling in jest, and putting on an air of ill-humor 
merely to tease, becomes earnest by practice. Mark 
that! Next, promise each other sincerely and 
solemnly, never to keep a secret from each other, 
under whatever pretext, and whatever excuse it 
might be. You must continually, and every mo¬ 
ment, see clearly into each other’s bosom. Even 
when one of you has committed a fault, wait not an 
instant, but confess it. And as you keep nothing 
from each other, so, on the contrary, preserve the 
privacies of your house, marriage state, and heart, 
from father, mother, sister, brother, aunt, aud all 
the world. You two, with God’s help, build your 
own quiet world. Every third or fourth one you 
draw into it with yon will form a party and stand 
between you two. That should never be. Promise 
this to each other. Remember the vow at each 
temptation. You will find your account in it. 
Your souls will gTOw, a6 it were, to each other, and 
at last will become as one. Ah, if many a pair had, 
on their marriage day, known this secret, how many 
a marriage were happier than, alas, they are! 
THE EYE. 
The eye—the study of which alone, old Sturmius 
telle us, is a cure for Atheism—is perhaps one of 
the most marvelous constructions in nature. Its 
movements, its expressions, Us protection, its cham¬ 
bers, its lenses, and the great delicacy of all its 
component parts, have been -the study of the anat¬ 
omists of all times. How I wish I could show to 
the readers of this paper one single portion of the 
human eye—that part called the vitreous humor! 
It resembles half molten crystal in its purity and 
brilliancy. And, above all, could I show you the 
beautitul adaptation of every structure to the office 
it performs in the animal economy you would prob¬ 
ably be lost in amazement. Imagine yourself for a 
single moment standing on a mountain eminence 
with an autumn landscape of twenty miles in ex¬ 
tent before you. Every constituent which goes to 
make up the beauty and the harmony of the sceue 
is fully appreciated by your sense of vision: the 
great variety of color, the fields, the hedges, the 
foliage, the cottages and the village spire in the dis¬ 
tance, the river as it curves around the gentle slopes 
and the clouds that float overhead. That landscape 
of twenty miles yon take in, and are able to see 
entire, through an aperture an eighth of an inch in 
diameter.— Atlantic Monthly. 
-•♦-«-♦ «■ --- 
SANDWICHES. 
The “ best illustrated paper out” —a baaknote. 
The lay of the minstrel is getting to be a golden 
egg- 
A flower for Queen Isabella’s bouquet—Prim 
rose. 
To get out of debt, pay up — to keep out, pay 
down. 
Why is a mouse like a load of hay ? Because the 
cat’ll eat it. 
Levity of behavior is the baue of all that is good 
aud virtuous. 
Does a dead language come under the head of 
dried tongue ? 
An obstinate man does not hold opinions, hut 
they hold him. 
To Adam, Paradise was a home; to the good, 
among his descendants, home is a Paradise. 
One swallow does n’t make a summer; but young 
men should remember that too many swallows are 
certain to make a fall, 
A French officer, quarreling with a Swiss, re¬ 
proached him with his country’s custom ol fighting 
for money, “ while we Frenchmen,” said he, “fight 
for honor.” “ Yes, sir," replied the Swiss, “ every 
one fights for that which he wants most! ” 
Evert hour, life’s sands are sliding from beneath 
incautious feet, and with sin’s fatal flower in the 
incautious band, the trifler goes to his doom. 
Tne requiem of each departure is an echo of the 
Saviour's question:—What shall a man give in ex¬ 
change for his soul ? [ 
The vices of Americans are brief:—1. An inordi- i 
nate passion for riches. 2. Overwork of the miud i 
and body in the pursuit of business. 3. Undue 1 
hurry aud excitement in all the affairs of life. 4. 1 
Intemperance in eating, drinking and smoking. i 
5. Disregard of the true laws of life and health. : 
THE TIMES OF PRAYER. 
BT JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
Come to the morning prayer. 
Come, let us kneel and pray; 
Prayer is the Christian pilgrim’s Btaff 
To walk with God all day. 
At noon, beneath the Rock 
Of Ages, rest and pray; 
Sweet is that shadow from the heat 
When the son smites the day. 
At eve shut to the door; 
Round the home altar pray; 
And finding there “ the house of God,” 
At *• heaven's gate ” close the day. 
When midnight seals our eyes. 
Let each in spirit say, 
“ I sleep, bnt my heart waketh, Lord, 
With thee to watch and pray.” 
-4 * 4 
Written Tor Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
SEEK FIRST THE KINGDOM OF GOD. 
How very few are the persons who evince, by 
their daily walk and conversation, that this precept 
of the blessed Bible has not merely been read but 
practised in their every-day lives. Very many have 
imbibed the erroneous idea that religion is some¬ 
thing very easy to obtain; that when they become 
wearied with the deceitful smiles and bitter-sweet 
pleasures oi this world, and desire to disburden 
themselves of the gilded but oppressive shackles 
which the “god of this world" has thrown upon 
them, they have only to send up a formal petition 
to the God of Love, become a member of the church 
militant, and sail smoothly onward across the sea of 
life to the bright, shining shore of the Celestial 
City. But, our Father says, “Seek ye first the 
kingdom of God." Whatever else may occupy our 
minds and engage our attention, let this be. first,— 
religion the chief concern, holiness the acme of our 
aspirations. 
The Christian has the greatest incentive to seek 
after heavenly things, for with the seeking is given 
an exceeding great promise,—“ And all things shall 
be added unto you .’’—all things needful in this life. 
And who can conceive the glorious treasures that 
await every follower of the Lamb, just beyond 
the river, in the Summer Laud ? O, mortal! “thine 
eye hath never yet beheld its splendors, nor thine 
ear heard its deep songs of joy!” 
Few of those who profess to have come out from 
the ranks of sin and Satan, and enlisted under 
Jesus, the captain of our salvation strive iu all 
things to make religion the great work of life. 
How small the number who send up the holy music 
of prayer and praise from the family altar, and 
strictly obey the command,—“Remember the Sab¬ 
bath day to keep it holy,” by entering His courts 
with loving hearts, and returning to meditate and 
pray, thus becoming more meet for the Crown of 
Glory, which shall shine with ever-increasing splen¬ 
dor as eternal age& roll around. 
O what has earth to give, in comparison with 
neaven ? What do the devotees at pleasure’s shrine 
receive, compared with the lovers of Jesus? A 
few more suns shall rise and set, when the sound of 
the archaugel’s trump shall suddenly fall upon the 
living and the dead. Ye who worship at Mammon’s 
shrine, what will it avail you then, that your path¬ 
way through life was strewn with rose6, that you 
reveled in voluptuous pleasures ? The remembrance 
of them will be cruel thorns of remorse in your 
bosom. Mary E. 
Pleasant Valley, Nov., 1868. 
-■»«4 4»<» 
ONLY A LITTLE WHILE. 
“ Well, Molly,” said the Judge, going up to the 
old apple woman’s stand, “don’t you get tired sit¬ 
ting here these cold, dismal days?” 
“ It’s only a little while,” said she. 
“Aud the hot, dusty days?” said he. 
“ It’s only a little while, sir,” said Molly. 
“And your sick, rheumatic days, Molly?” said 
the Judge. 
“ It’s only a little while, sir,” said she. 
“ And what then, Molly?” asked the Judge. 
“I shall enter into that rest which remains for 
the people of God,” answered the old woman, de¬ 
voutly, “and the troublesomeness of the way there 
don’t pester or fret me. It’s only a Little while.” 
“All is well that ends well, I dare say,” said the 
Judge; “ but what makes you 60 sure, Molly?” 
“ How can I help being sure,” said she, “since 
Christ is the way, and I am in Him ? He is mine, 
and I am His. Now, I only feel Him all along the 
way. I shall see Him as He is iu a little while, sir.” 
“Ah, Molly, you’ve got more than the law ever 
taught me,” said the Judge. 
“ Fes, sir, because I went to the Gospel.” 
“Well, Molly, I must look into these things,” 
said the Judge, taking an apple and walking off. 
“There's only a little while, sir,” said she.— Amer¬ 
ican Tract Society. 
-— .. - 
“LO I AM WITH YOU ALWAY.” 
A mother one morning gave her two little ones 
books and toys to amuse them while she went to 
attend to some work in an upper room. 
A half hour passed quietly, and then a timid voice 
at the foot of the stairs called out: 
“ Mamma, are yon there ?” 
“ Yes, darling.” 
“All right, then,” and the child went back to its 
play. 
By-aud-by the question was repeated— 
“ Mamma, are you there ?” 
“Yes.” 
“All right, theu;” and the little ones, re-asaured 
of their mother’s presence, again returned to their 
toys. 
Thus we, God’s little ones, in doubt and loneli¬ 
ness look up aud ask, — “My Father, art thou 
there ?” and when there comes in answer the assur¬ 
ance of His presence, our hearts are quieted. 
-♦ •. - 4 ««» - 
Many men pass fifty or sixty years in the world, 
and when they are just going out of it, they bethink 
themselves, aud step back, as it were, to do some¬ 
thing which they had all the while forgotten, viz :— 
The main business for which they came into the 
world, to repent of their sins and reform their lives 
ana make their peace with God, and in time to 
prepare for eternity.— TiUotson. 
-» <♦ ■»>■»- 
Man is designed for an active being, aud his 
spirit, ever restless, if not employed upon worthy 
aud dignified objects, will often rather engage in 
meau aud low pursuits thau suffer the tedious and 
listless feelings connected with indolence; and ( 
knowledge is no less necessary in strengthening the , 
miud, than iu preserving the purity of the affections J 
and the neart. 
