nines’ fiott-jfoliff. 
MAST, ODR DARLING. 
BY SHIRLEY CLAIR. 
Tearfully, tenderly lay her to rest; 
Fold down the snowy hands o’er the still breast; 
Sleepeth she sweetly the sleep of the blest,— 
Mary, our darling! 
Tearfully, tenderly In her brown hair 
Twine the pale rosebuds and lilies so fair; 
Sleepeth she peacefully, freed from all care,— 
Mary*, our darling! 
Sadly, so sadly our bosoms are swelling ; 
Up from our lone hearts the tear-drops are welling; 
She was our sunbeam, the light of our dwelling,— 
Mary, our darling! 
Tearfully, tenderly, smooth down the pillow; 
Lay her to rest ’neath the low, drooping willow, 
Ne’er to be tossed by life's turbulent, billow,— 
Mary, our darling! 
Tearfully, tenderly lay her to rest! 
On the still lips our last kiss has been prest; 
Dwelleth she now In the land of the blest,— 
Mary*, our darling! 
Cedarbongb Cottage, Ohio. 
- — »■»»- 
EUGENIE DE GUERIN’S JOURNAL. 
In tlie south of France, near the begin¬ 
ning of the present century, dwelt a brother 
and sister, belonging to a noble but hnpot er- 
ished family, who were not more gifted with 
fervid genius than wilh simplicity and purity 
of heart. Two fragmentary journals, it few 
poems and letters of strong and tender inter¬ 
est from the completeness with which they 
unfold the personality of their authors, fur¬ 
nish all we know of these rarest souls, whose 
every expression is filled wilh the harmony 
of pure spirits and illumined with visions of 
the ideal world that opened wide its gates foi 
the entrance ef their delicate tread. 
Let us first pause to note the sweet, wo¬ 
manly qualities and saint like faith of the 
elder one, who filled the place of mother and 
sister to the brother, though their friendship 
was so strong and unchanging, and their 
understanding of each other so perfect, that 
it seems unjust to separate them, even in 
thought. So similar were they in their aspi¬ 
rations, so united by every bond that can 
exist between sympathetic minds, that they 
seem but portions of the same soul. 
The Journal of Eugenie, in which we 
catch breaths of Eden’s freshness, as well as 
the sound of fulling tear-drops, was written 
in part to gratify her brother in his absence, 
but more in obedience to the still small voice 
that whispers, 44 W hut saith the King unto 
thy soul ? Use the eye which ITe has given 
to keep unceasing watch over thy thoughts. 
Lend thy ear to those tones of the spirit — 
the whisperings of the heavenly oracle.” In 
its pages the aaeredness of the Inner life 
is preserved in all its fragile beauty. She 
had learned to distinguish what fed the deep 
springs of her being, from the storms and 
cloud-shadows that touched but the surface; 
lienee the book is almost destitute of those 
outward, every-day events which merely oc¬ 
cupy or perplex, and is filled with thoughts 
of God, the wants and destiny of our natures, 
sentiments of friendship and raptures over 
the beamy which, to her watchful, reverent 
eye, existed even in the gloomy solitudes of 
La Cay la. 
There are records of days that began with 
the nightingale aud closed with the stars, in 
which the gliding hours were as sweet as a 
cup of milk. Like the quick, intuitive spirit 
of old, who saw *f sermons in stones, books 
in the running brooks,” she often found a 
subject for pages in a falling leaf, a flicker of 
the flames, an insect small as dust or a gust 
of wind Nothing was so trivial as to be 
without Its analogy* or suggestion; and she 
snatched from every fleeting moment its 
thought, from each event its lesson. Thus, 
a slight bum calls forth a page or two upon 
the heroism of the Christian martyrs and the 
probable effect of purgatorial discipline. A 
glimpse of a star through the shutter brings 
“ thoughts of Him who has made our prison 
so radiant, and of saints who have all those 
beauteous stars beneath tbeir feet.” “The 
earliest warbler of spring is like the first 
sweep of the bow of a grand concert.” Sun¬ 
light through moving leaves, curtains her 
walls and drapes her furniture with living 
tapestry. In the embers she hears 44 a little 
whistle like a singing voice, most exquisite 
and pure, as if some diminutive spirit of fire 
were chanting.” She watches the red feet 
of little birds “ like coral pencils drawing 
fairy patterns in the snow,” and brings from 
her walks “ the earliest flowers, whoso per¬ 
fume, like that of hidden virtue, betrays 
their home.” A little stream is “ strength 
for creatures that thirst, a bath for birds, an 
image of life, the mirror of heaven, a font 
of baptism.” 
Every page o! the book is hallowed and 
individualized by the light of faith. It was 
this that gave vitality to every* moment, ear¬ 
nestness to every action, It was faith which 
extracted from prayer that, rapture whose 
utterance trembles in golden silence, hushed 
and holy, and which aroused a love for 
friends and kindred that would have en¬ 
dured martyrdom for their sake. To this 
celestial eye all nature was transparent, and 
literature glowed beneath it with a light that 
not only informal, but exalted. 
Faith sustained her, too, when the beautiful 
soul of Maurice was withdrawn from earth; 
aud it echoes in the sweet, sad “ In Memori- 
am” which falls as twilight dew to freshen the 
wreath woven by Ids own genius. Though 
in sorrow and bereavement she cries “ 0, 
Maurice, O, brother with God! thou 
wast to me the source of being; from thee 
to me flowed friendship, sympathy, sweet 
possibilities of life springing from our con¬ 
verse. Thou wast the leaven of my thought, 
the sustenance of my soul. Lost friend 
divine! would to God I were with thee 
where thou artyet Faith comes, with ten¬ 
der, consoling touch, and soon, in calmness 
of soul, these words are written:— “Mau¬ 
rice filled a large portion of my heart; he 
being removed, God more and more takes 
possession of that empty space, and all will 
soon he filled by Him, and everything within 
me upborne like the ark on the waters,— 
all that "emnins from the deluge.” 
In 1848 she,—a type of love visible, — went 
home. T. 
East Avon, N. V. 
-♦«♦ ■ 
ROUGE STORIES. 
The Italians tell a story of a lady who 
acknowledged to her father confessor that 
she rouged a little—in order, she said, to be¬ 
come more handsome, and to please the 
young men. He at once gave her absolu¬ 
tion, on the ground that the result was pre¬ 
cisely the contrary. A lady ohec asked an 
artist, who was painting her portrait, where 
he bought his colors. He told her it was tit 
the same shop where she bought hers. 
When Lord Chesterfield was asked what he 
thought of the Indies in Paris, lie replied 
that he was “no judge of paintings.” The 
Marquise de Beauveau was noted for her 
unceasing experiments in the use of rouge 
of different kinds, which led to the doubt¬ 
ful compliment being addressed to her: 
“Madame, I discover some fresh beauty in 
you every day.” A sermon by 8t. Vincenzo 
Ferrer! is preserved, in which he uses the 
following strong language on the subject: 
“ Women, when you come to appear be lb re 
your Lord on Tib throne, He will say, ‘ Ye 
are not iny creatures. I made your faces 
white; ye have made them red. Why have 
ye dared to touch up a picture painted hy a 
master’s hand? Think ye that I know not 
bow to paint, or that I need to be instructed 
by you? If ye have been to a painter who 
you fancy handles the pencil better than I, 
go to that painter! 1 will have none of 
you; I know you not! Ve are not women, 
but children of the devil.”— Under the 
Crown , February number. 
-- 
THE QUEEN’S LITERARY LABORS. 
i - 
Her Majesty is about to renew her con¬ 
nection with the literary profession. Very 
shortly will bo published two handsome and 
costly volumes upon the Highlanders of Scot¬ 
land. This interesting work is issued under 
the auspices of ihc Queen, who commanded 
Mr. Kenneth Mucleay to execute the thirty 
or more original drawings of Iler Majesty’s 
retainers of the Royal Household at Balmo¬ 
ral. The portraits have great merit as works 
of art, and are full-lengths with accessories, 
which greatly enhance their interest. Each 
portrait is accompanied by descriptive and 
biographical letter-press, which has also had 
the advantage of being revised by Her Majes¬ 
ty. It appears that each retainer represent¬ 
ed is a member of one or other of the fa¬ 
mous clans of Scotland, so that the scries 
will have historical, and what may fairly be 
termed ethnological, interest .—English p 'uper. 
-- 
ABOUT MRS. GRANT. 
Mary Clemmer Ames wiites thus very 
entertainingly concerning the wife of our 
lately inaugurated President“ Few women 
ever bore the perilous test, of sudden fame 
and fortune with a more hearty happiness or 
more unassuming grace. Is she pretty? No. 
She is a roly-poly little woman, with beauti¬ 
ful neck, hands and feet, Hci features are 
well cut, bufcher eyes are crossed. Some of 
her friends wished her to have them straight¬ 
ened. 1 No,’ she &aid, 4 Mr. Grant had loved 
her ever since she was a little girl with her 
eyes crossed. He had said that she would 
not be herself to him if they were straight. 
Crooked they should remain. If he was sat¬ 
isfied, what mattered it to other people ? ’ ” 
-»»» — 
The Little Ones.—D o you ever think 
how much work a little child does m a day ? 
How, from sunrise to sunset the dear little 
feet patter round — to us—so aimlessly; 
climbing up here, kneeling down there, run¬ 
ning to another place, but never still, twist¬ 
ing and turning, rolling, and reaching, and 
doubling, as if testing every bone and muscle 
for their future uses. It is very curious to 
watch it. One who does so may well and 
easily understand the deep breathing of the 
rosy little sleeper, as, with one arm tossed over 
its curly head it prepares for the next day’s 
gymnastics. A busy creature is a little child. 
TOBACCO DRUNKARDS. 
BY JAMES O. CLARK. 
Recently, while walking on one of the 
principal streets of Auburn, N. Y., I came 
in sudden contact with a man who was look¬ 
ing in another direction, and who did hot 
see me till our shoulders collided. He turn¬ 
ed and said, “Excuse mo, sir" 1 excused 
the accident, but could not excuse tlie con¬ 
dition of tlie man. He was drunk,— not on 
alcohol, but on tobacco. The violent Jar 1 
gave him served to bring the accumulated 
essence of the weed instantly to the surface. 
The whole atmosphere was poisoned with 
the sickening odor. It seemed for the mo¬ 
ment as If the man’s akin was filled and dis 
tended with strong, concentrated old juice, 
and that the vessel containing it had sud¬ 
denly given way at every pore, and slopped 
over at the nose, ears, eyes and mouth. This 
defiled fraction of humanity was a tobacco 
drunkard. 
I wish tic might be an isolated case; but 
he is not. There are thousands in tlie same 
condition, and hundreds of thousands approx 
imating to it. We meet them daily. They 
are among our Christians, and our lending 
public men, scarcely less than among sinners, 
and men in humble life They blow tobacco 
smoke in our faces on the streets. They 
cover the floors of cars and other public 
conveyances with filth, and what is worse, 
shatter their nervous systems till they only 
represent one-half or one-fourth the original 
design of their Maker. They advertise their 
bondage in their breath, and in their luster- 
less, expressionless eyes, which say “ to¬ 
bacco" in every lazy wink. 
If such breath and such eyes as many 
a Christian tobacco-user carries, were be¬ 
queathed to a decent woman, she would be 
termed a “ bruiser,” and society would ban¬ 
ish her in disgust. Yet the practice would 
Injure her womanhood only as it. degraded 
mid brutalized her humanity. 
It is a great mistake, and one that stands 
in tlie way of reform, to suppose that any 
physical habit which injures woman is less 
injurious when indulged in by man. Tlie 
distinction is not in the real difference, but in 
our assuming a difference, and then getting 
used to it. Too many good people act as 
though coarseness were manhood, and weak¬ 
ness womanhood, filth is filth in either 
pcx. Abase of miml and body is followed 
by a penalty which knows nothing of sex. 
This theory, so reasonable, so simple, and 
so unanswerable, covers the entire ground 
upon which the user of tobacco defends the 
practice. The matter is so plain thut moral 
and religious teachers and reformers of all 
kinds arc inexcusable in failing to compre¬ 
hend it. 
Not many months since I visited a. village 
in Northwestern Pennsylvania, and stopped 
with a wealthy Spiritualist. It happened 
that a man of the same faith was there at 
the time from Chautauqua Co., N. Y. The 
latter was an inordinate consumer of tobacco, 
llis mouth was an overflowing spittoon,— 
his breath an Insult to God’s pure air, and 
his presence a stinking burden in the room. 
The tobacco question came up during the 
afternoon, and I did not modify my opinion 
on account of the “ present company." Tlie 
host, perhaps through sympathy for liis guest, 
said: 
“ Mr. Clark, I think yon are too intolerant . 
My motto is, Let every man act according to 
the dictates of his own ‘individuality, and do 
what he thinks right and beat tor himself." 
“ Pardon me, sir,” I answered, 14 if I take 
another view of this sulyect. When a man’s 
4 individuality ’ develops itself into some¬ 
thing unsavory and repulsive to a largo ma¬ 
jority of his fellow beings, he must either 
withdraw himself from society or reform 
If he will do neither, then society should 
expel him. Your liberality carried into ex¬ 
treme practice, would allow a person to 
attend public gatherings with u decomposed 
kitten in every pocket, so long as his taste, 
and sense of smell were not outraged.” 
The Young Men’s Christian Associations 
of America are accomplishing great good, 
and arc* deserving of the encouragement and 
support of all who work and pray for the 
elevation of humanity. It is for this very 
reason, and because I sympathize warmly 
with their mission, that I regret the adop¬ 
tion, at their last National Convention, of 
the following resolution -. 
"Resolved, That the Intricate question ol the 
use-of tobacco be decided between each individ¬ 
ual and his Saviour, after much prayer.” 
That able and untiring anti-tobacco Apos¬ 
tle, Rev Geoboe Trask, who w ill yet ex¬ 
change the curses and sneers of his fellow 
man for tlieir praises and benedictions, has 
recently embodied in a tract it lucid, kind 
and complete review of this resolution. I 
will not take up his points and repeat them. 
He exhibits a fatherly and forbearing spirit, 
which proves him a better Christian than 
myself, or at least one more closely related 
to Jon. 
The resolution displays an amount of au¬ 
dacity and cant which deprives me ol all 
patience when I allude to it. It unblnsh- 
ingly proposes to ask the Saviour’s advice ; 
concerning indulgence in a practice so vile 
and unbecoming that any half-way respecta¬ 
ble sinner would unhesitatingly condemn it 
in a mother, wife, sister, or daughter. And 1 
if it indicates anything more or less than > 
spiritual stupidity, or moral cowardice, it 
amounts to a public insult to the character 
and memory of Christ. 
We would naturally expect that an associ¬ 
ation assuming tho name of "Christian," 
ought, iu its public manifestos and theories, 
to profess harmony with the moral example 
and teachings of Jesus. When we remem¬ 
ber that He condemned sin without regard 
to ac.tr,- -that lie fastened crime upon the self- 
righteous judges of woman, no less than 
upon the woman who was to be stoned,— 
that we would all be more than shocked and 
disgusted at the mere suggestion that He 
would, if on earth to-day, clothed In His 
pure and radiant humanity, use tobacco in 
any form,—we cannot avoid the conviction 
that the tobacco resolution adopted by the 
Young Men’s Christian Association in 1808, 
w as an outrage on the jewel consistency. 
We may hope for better things when these 
Associations for moral and benevolent objects 
are composed of both sexes. Certainly, 
young women who arc 44 strangers in our 
cities and \ iliages, without homes or employ¬ 
ment,” need a helping hand and kind sym¬ 
pathy as much ns, if not more than, “ young 
men" similarly circumstanced. No one dare 
deny this. It lias practical common-sense 
in its very face. But will the next conven¬ 
tion of the Young Men’s Christian Asso¬ 
ciations dare to give the subject as much 
consideration as the last one did that absurd 
tobacco resolution ? We predict that it. will 
not. And we further predict that until these 
Associations are changed to 44 Young People's 
Christian Associations,” composed alike of 
both sexes, Dr. Fisher’s complaint that the 
Young Men’s Christian Association of Utica 
44 flourished for a time, but was then suf¬ 
fered to decline and become extinct,” will 
find a thousand echoes in ail parts of tho 
land. But probably the “young men” will 
guard against this dangerous innovation, ns it 
would give woman the 44 unwomanly” right 
to vote, and deprive man of the manly right to 
chew and smoke. 
The tobacco-user violates all law, in that 
he, no less than tho drinker of alcohol, daily 
pursues a course which, through physical 
prostitution, stupefies and deadens the spir¬ 
itual sensibilities, ami defaces the tablet upon 
which ull law relating to humanity is writ¬ 
ten, and without which law is a dead letter. 
[i is safe to assume that the voluntary usu of 
auy foreign agency, which from being at 
first useless, if not repulsive, at. last becomes 
a tyrannical necessity to mental and physi¬ 
cal action, is a high crime against Nature 
and hence against God. 
We ure created in God’s image; and if 
there is an unpardonable sin, that sin is the 
deliberate blotting of His image from our 
being. Perhaps we do not hold any too 
sacred the laws which prevent men from in¬ 
juring each other; but we consider too lightly 
the law which underlies all these, and 
which forbids us to injure, to defile or 
destroy ourselves 1 think tlie delegates 
of the National Convention of the Young 
Men’s Christian Associations overlooked the 
44 first and great Commandment;” — “first 
and great," because to love God is to yield 
our obedience to His law. We cannot do 
this if we dishonor His image iu us by will¬ 
ful aud continued indulgence in a filthy, 
slavish practice which impairs our spiritual 
perceptions and deprives us of physical and 
mental strength. 
-- 
COURTSHIP. 
A moderate time for courtship is from 
twelve to eighteen months. This, of course 
greatly depends on other circumstances, but 
its length should not be unnecessarily ex¬ 
tended. It is this sort of fashion—namely, 
that of an interminable wooing—that gave 
occasion to the young man’s objection to 
matrimony, when tlie same was urged upon 
him by his lady love:—“ My dear,” said he, 
“ if we were married, I don’t know where I 
could spend my evenings 1” 
Many a young lady becomes weary of the 
tedious delay of her suitor, and many an 
anxious suitor grows weary of the unneces¬ 
sary scruples of the fair one. There is a story 
told of a young couple who began to court 
at an early age, who went on courting when 
they wore out of their teens; the gentleman 
ventured to propose a settlement, but was 
begged to wait a short time longer, and so he 
went on waiting, and youth departed, and 
the pledged couple, still courting, began 
occasionally to notice a gray hair, or an un¬ 
mistakable wrinkle, but still went on as of 
old, till more than half a century had passed; 
in a word, they courted all their lives, and 
lived to be old, but unmarried.— Exchange. 
-♦♦■*-- 
The first ingredient in conversation is 
truth, the next good sense, tho third good 
humor, and the fourth wit. 
OUR GUIDES. 
13V A. A. UOPKINS. 
In a pillar of cloud l>y day, O God, 
And a pillar of lire by night, 
Thy presence did guide on the way they trod 
Tfiy poopln of old Ip flight, 
And tho wilderness way that wo walk to-day 
Morn dreary and dap; would sootn, 
If through the deep night or tho twilight gray, 
Thy presence uhuuld ucier ulc.au. 
1 am glad that they waited In days of old, 
With npromUo of belli rthings; 
For my heart it b stirred when the tolo is told 
By the hope and the cheer it brlnps. 
I am glad that they Journeyed those forty years, 
In trouble, and doubt, and pain ; 
For the gloom of my wilderness disappears 
At thought of their Until gain. 
We mny never quite perfectly understand 
Why the wilderness waits lor oaeli 
Vet wo know that the beautiful Promised Land 
la beyond It without out- reach ; 
But whatever the burdens wo have to boar, 
Or however wo shrink and faint, 
Wo shall carry ourselves and our burdens there. 
If a prayer Is our solo complaint \ 
Hod they only looked down. In tho olden time, 
As they Journeyed with fiiU’rlng tread, 
They would never hare known of the guides sublime 
That forever their fool tops led. 
And I pray, though we walk in a faithless way. 
Though wo seldom look up for light, 
We mny never lose sight of the cloud by day, 
Or the pillar of tire by night. 
Now Y’ork, March, 18C9. 
»♦»- 
“THE CUP.” 
BY MAY MAPLE. 
“The cup which ray Father gtveth mo, shall I not 
drink It ? ” 
Whf.n the body is racked with pain, when 
fever scorches the blood and the skin becomes 
dry and parched, we find that not all the 
pleasant draughts in tlie world will cure tlie 
disease. Tlie physician is called, aud Imme¬ 
diately he prepares a potion so bitter and 
nauseating that tho invalid turns from it 
with a sense of loathing and disgust But it. 
is only for an instant. lie is willing to trust 
to the bettor judgment and knowledge of 
bis physician as regards the disease. And 
trusting him completely—with ills Ufa it may 
be - he takes the bitter cup without a mur¬ 
mur, believing it to be for Ids present and 
future good. Thus, his system is purified, 
and health and vigor arc once more restored. 
It is the same with the diseased soul. Lux¬ 
uries and pleasures do not purify it, any 
more than sweet draughts do the decaying 
system. Tim privations, crosses and trials 
of which we complain, are only so many 
bitter medicines to cure the soul of the many 
diseases to which it is heir; such as envy, 
malice, selfishness, avarice, self-conceit, and 
the want of truthfulness. 
ft is that these terrible diseases may be 
rooted out of the heart, and in tlieir places 
may grow tlm Christian graces—Faith, Hope, 
Love, Charity, Patience, Meekness, and a 
host of other beautiful flowers—thut our 
Heavenly Father reaches out to us 44 the 
cup, w r e should be thankful to receive, but 
which we take wilh distorted countenance, 
and bitter lamentation, forgetting to trust 
Him as we would an earthly parent, or even 
a friend, 
Our Saviour teaches us a lesson of per¬ 
fect trust, and a ready obedience when ho 
utters the words, 44 The cup which my Father 
givelh me, shall I not drink it ?” Even 
though 44 the cup” was giving up every earth¬ 
ly pleasure, yea even life itself, and the joys 
of Heaven also, for a time, all for those who 
were determined to despise Him and Ills 
teachings—for those who scoffed at Ilia hum¬ 
ble birth ami mocked Him because Ho claim¬ 
ed such close allegiance to the Allwise God. 
No murmur escaped His lips because ho 
could not live in a king’s palace, as was His 
right, and enjoy ull the luxuries of wealth 
and titled nobility. He could claim God ns 
His Father; and by His submissiveness in 
taking “ the cup” which was given Him to 
drink, the same blessed privilege came down 
to us complaining mortals. With Him we 
may claim an heirship to the 44 mansion not 
made with hands,” if we will but do the will 
of the Divinity and drink of “ the cup” which 
He prepares for each of His children. 
+ ♦ »- 
IS DELAY WISE? 
Dr. Spencer, in a sermon upon delay of 
conversion, says •*—“ Make up a congregation 
of a thousand Christians. Divide them into 
five classes, according to tlie ages at which 
they became Christians. Place in the first 
class all those converted under twenty years 
of age; and in the fifth class all those con¬ 
verted between fifty and sixty. Of your 
thousand Christians there were hopefully 
converted under twenty years of age five 
hundred and forty-eight. Between fitly and 
sixty years of age three. But you ask, Why 
stop at sixty years old ? Ah ! well, then, if 
you will have a sixth class—converted be¬ 
tween sixty and seventy years of age— one. 
Just one out of a thousand Christians con¬ 
verted, over sixty years old! What a lesson 
on delay! VVliat an awful lesson l” 
- ♦ ♦ ♦- 
Carefully avoid those vices which most 
resemble virtue; they are a thousand times 
the most ensnaring of all vices. 
