through hereditary law may come to her 
again through suffrage; and so, while now 
she only graciously hands man his letters 
from a Post-Office window, in time she may 
perform the duty of hanging him for non¬ 
appreciation, or some equally heinous crime! 
to the household, — where words of reproof, 
when needed, are so full of love that rebel¬ 
lion dies away and heart clings closer to 
heart ? Did it never occur to this father that 
his parental care should not cease when the 
child was a child in years no longer? Does 
he not know that ho loses a precious gill 
when he turns from his a heart that longs for 
his sympathy ? 
Alas, for the many who thus shut out hap¬ 
piness from their own souls, and estrange, 
the affections of their children. 
La Feutlle. 
hater jmscrllamt 
afcbatb 
BETWEEN MY DREAMS. 
TO MARY A. E. WAGER 
MY HOME 
DT CLIO STANLEY 
BY HELEN L. SMITH 
WEDDED LOVE, 
I heard a voice fall through the starry night; 
It jarred the music ot a happy dream: 
" Malden," It Htild, •* your path Is fair and bright 
As sunlight’s gleam; 
Yet low. lean low, 
Do you forget the dream of long ago ? ” 
0 Memory's voice I O (incident waking hour! 
O vision of a mulshed Paradise! 
I know my dream was but the subtle power 
Of sinful eyes; 
Ah, low t lean. 
And blesB the voice that fell my dreams between 
O happier dreams of far-off, flotshed years, 
Come back, and rest upon my aching heart; 
Come, though ye bring mo only grief and tears, 
And no’er depart: 
Some day the door 
Of Life will open to that faco once more! 
O beautiful homo far away In the skies, 
My spirit la longing for thee. 
Impatient on ungviic pinions to rise, 
Thy glories lmmori.nl to see. 
I have read of that city, so poneofnl, so fall', 
And I dream of It through the long night; 
O glorious I know it must, bo to bo there, 
And dwell with the ransomed in light \ 
When, when will life's wearisome Journey ho o'er. 
And when shall I enter thy rest? 
Will the time over come when I’ll sorrow no more 
Rut sing In tho land of the blest ? 
O, beautiful visions of love, vast, aud home 
Are flooding my soul with delight, 
While yet as u pilgrim and Htrangor I roain 
In the darkness and gloom of earth’s night. 
My Father, how long ero my life work Is done l 
How long ore I lly to Thy breast ? 
How long must I light ore the victory's won/ 
How long must 1 toll ero I rest ? 
O beautiful homo far away In the skies, 
My spirit Is lunging for thoo, 
Impatient on angelic pinions to rise 
Thy glories immortal to soe. 
Wheaton, PL, 1SW. 
In Glory’s halls, wlioro History calls 
The roll of those not born to die. 
Among tho names which now are Fame's, 
May thine bo written proud and high ! 
II. 
At thy sweet call, may Muses all 
Thy fancy and tby pen Inspire! 
And if a Muse should e’er refuse, 
May e’en Apollo touch thy lyre ! 
nr. 
Should Slander’s broatb,—a blast of death 
Blow chill aud cold upon thy heart, 
May friendship true thy soul renew. 
And faith Its Joy and peace Impart! 
If there be any one thing most thought of, 
talked about, and dreamed over, It surely is 
love. It is in the heart, on the tongue, and 
smiles out of the face. It is the diviner in¬ 
fluence within one’s nature, warming to 
better things. So long us man or woman 
can lovo anything, — father, mother, wife, 
child, dog or memory,—there is hope for him 
or her, however debased. We come to look 
out of ourselves through love. And there is 
so much of beauty and joy all around us, 
that when we look away from self we can¬ 
not help seeing somewhat of it, and being 
profited. 
Some one who has thought earnestly on 
this subject, — it sounds very much like 
Beecher, whose large heart is in near sym¬ 
pathy with all humanity,—has written thus 
of wedded love: 
My young maiden friend, love Is not a 
passion, but a growth. The heart is a lamp, 
with just oil enough to burn for an hour. If 
there be no oil to put in it again, it will go 
out. God’s grace iB the oil that fills the 
lamp of love. If there be ono tiling above 
all others that every woman should say to 
herself, in the beginning of her married life, 
it is this:—“ I cannot be respected aud loved, 
as I must needs be, to be happy, unless I can 
bring something more thnu myself. It must 
be God in me, that shall maintain mo in that 
dignity and fullness of influence and impres¬ 
siveness that shall wlu and keep tuy hus¬ 
band’s lovo.” A Godless woman entering 
into the marriage relation, goes as n lamb to 
the slaughter. Wreaths of flowers may be 
around her neck, but the knife is not far off 
Desecration of love Is the saddest thing on 
earth. There is nothing, it seems to me, 
that touches tho contemplative heart more 
than this: to see what love might ho, If its 
early days be prophets of possibility, and 
then see what it is. More than for Anything 
else in the world, lovo fails for the want of 
food, and no other food is there for love but 
goodness. Love can no more burn without 
goodness than the flame without fuel. The 
sorrows that must go with you through all 
your life, or break constantly upon you, 
somewhere, cannot be borne without God’s 
ministering angels. As your household 
grows around you, and your children begin 
to feel tho tides of life, and you become, lu 
turn, their guides, as your parents were 
yours, you will find that no one can bear 
life well who lias not, somewhere, the pres¬ 
ent “ help in time of trouble." 
If there be anythiug that young wedded 
love should liave as its first vision, it should 
be a vision of a ladder between tho earth 
and heaven, and the angels of God ascend¬ 
ing and descending, and God, over all, bless¬ 
ing it. Thru there ‘Is hope. Begin your 
household life—begin your wedded life with 
a firm hold upon God, and purity, and 
heaven, and there is hope for you; other¬ 
wise sad is your fate ! 
THE CHRISTIAN GENTLEMAN, 
IIe is above a mean thing. He cannot 
stoop to a mean fraud. He invades no secret 
in the keeping of another. He betrays no 
secrets confided to his own keeping. He 
never struts In borrowed plumage. He never 
takes selfish advantage of our mistakes. Ho 
uses no ignoble weapons in controversy. Ho 
never stabs in ihu dark. He is ashamed of 
inuendoes. Ho is not one thing to a man’s 
face, and another behind bis back. If by 
accident he comeB in possession of his 
neighbor’s counsels, he passes upon them an 
act of instant oblivion. IIu bears sealed 
packages without tampering with the wax. 
Papers not meant for his eye, whether they 
flutter at liis window or lie open before him 
in unguarded exposure, are sacred to him. 
He invades no privacy of others, however the 
sentry sleeps. Bolts and liars, locks and keys, 
hedges and pickets, bonds and securities, 
notices to trespassers, are none of them for 
him. lie may be trusted alone, out of sight 
—near the thinnest partition—anywhere. 
He buys no offices, he sells none,he intrigues 
for none. He would rather fall of his rights 
than win them through dishonor. He will 
eat honest bread. lie tramples on no sensi¬ 
tive lW'liug. He insults no man. If he have 
rebuke for another, ho is straightforward, 
open, manly. He cannot descend to scurrility. 
Tn short, whatever he judges honorable he 
practices towards every man. 
May Famo be Uilne! May Glory twtno 
A laurel ivreatli to deck thy brow ! 
Though thin wo »e«\ thou still wilt be 
As gentle then, In heart, ns now. 
Tompkins Oo., N. V„ 18fi). 
CLEVERNESS AND MANLINESS, 
BY L. D. BURDICK 
A thought ! a thought! for the rosy morn, 
That oomos through the gates of dew! 
But I’ll keep a kinder, huppler thought 
For twilight and for you. 
A word! a word! for tho humming bird, 
Atilt on tho jessamine new, 
Will my Up let slip, but my heart will keep 
Its softest words for you. 
A song ! a song! for tho mocking bird, 
In answer to his so true! 
But you know right woU I will always keep 
My sweetest song for you. 
A kiss! a kiss! for the sweet red rose, 
And one for the violet blue! 
But standing hero ut tho garden gate, 
I ’II keep ooo hack for you. 
A sigh ! a sigh ! for roy pale white rose, 
That tho elillllng night wind slow t 
But I answer you when the lilies say, 
I am sighing most for you! 
—Pearl Rivera. 
LOOKING TO JESUS 
BY J. L. KENNELL 
WOMAN IN OFFICE 
No little sensation has been created of late, 
in certain circles, by die appointment of a 
lady to an important Post-Official position, 
by the Government. Ladies have held 
jurisdiction, heretofore, over the mails, (no 
pun intended,) in certain little hamlets 
dignified by a Post-Office, and no great 
enthusiam wits awakened or much fault 
found ; but now that a City so important as 
Richmond has a Post-master (or mistress?) 
all womankind is in ecstasies, and all man¬ 
kind wonders if manly prerogatives are not 
in jeopardy. 
We are not quite sure that authorizing 
Miss Van Lew to append “ P. M.” to her 
name will fully settle the vexed “ Woman 
Question.” But may it not in some degree 
influence public opinion ? We think it will. 
It is virtually pronouncing in favor of 
Woman’s eligibility to office. All that 
remains is to give her tho ballot; and when 
that is done there will be a Woman Party, of 
course, and a Woman’s Ticket; and as all 
gallant gentlemen will vote for the fairest of 
the candidates wc shall have a very lovely 
Government indeed! 
Tho siiuation will not he excessively dis¬ 
agreeable, except to some crotchety old 
fogies who believe egotistically in themselves 
and their sex. And as neither the ladies, nor 
we who appreciate them and who arc very 
truly their humble servants, will care a pica¬ 
yune for such egot ists, the world—our goodly 
portion of it—will wag on as aforetime. Our 
foreign relations will be satisfactory in 
general, because Woman, long used to diplo¬ 
macy in love, will prove a match for 
diplomats the world over; and we sha’n’t 
have any war with England, in particular, 
because England’s Queen will sympathize 
with our Presidentess, aud it is well known 
that the sisters always cherish most amicable 
feelings. 
It remains to be seen how Woman will, 
deport herself in office, under a Republic. 
Sim lias tlono well in a Queenly way, over 
the water. She has held other positions than 
a throne, moreover,— though this fact is not 
generally known,—and there being no facts 
upon which to found an opinion we are fain 
to infer that she. acquitted herself creditably. 
Isabella de Vetripont, born in 1254 and 
married to Roger, Lord de Clifford, in 
1269, became on the death of her husband in 
1283 hereditary Sheriff for the county of 
Westmoreland, England, and executed the 
duties of that office in person until her death. 
Thus she assumed official dignity u hen 
about thirty years of age, and wore the 
honors about eight years. The old chronicles 
say that she “satt herself upon the bench,as 
Ueridetarie Sheriff of Westmorland, upon 
tryals of life and, death, an hon’or which no 
woman in this kingdom has hitherto attained 
bat herself." Anne, Countess of Pembroke, 
was -also hereditary Sheriff ofthc same county, 
alter the death of her second husband the 
Earl oi Pembroke and Montgomery in 1650, 
but in her case the duties of the office were 
performed by a male deputy. 
We have evidence, therefore, that Woman 
has done official service in other capacities 
than those of zealously swaying a scepter, or 
idly wearing a crown; and surely what has 
been, may be. What eamu down to her 
LOVING AND HATING, 
If you love, love more. If you hate, hate 
less. Life is too short to spend in hating uny 
one. Why war against a mortal who is go¬ 
ing the same road with us? Why not 
expand the flower of life and happiness by 
learning to love, by teaching those who arc 
near aucl dear the beautiful lesson! Your 
hands may be hard, but your heart need not 
be. Your form may be bent or ugly, but do 
you not know that the mo-st beautiful flowers 
grow In the most rugged, unsheltered places ? 
Tho palace for care, tho cottage for love. 
Not that there is no love in a mansion ; but 
somehow, if we are not very careful, business 
will crowd all there is of beauty out of tho 
heart. This is why God has given us tho 
Sabbaths and Saturday nights, that we may 
leave business and have a heart-cleaning. 
SANDWICHES 
An aching void—The socket from which a 
tooth has just been drawn. 
Tine newest thing out is velocipede candy. 
Is it. worked with the feet? 
W rat is the best thing for a dead-lock ? 
A skeleton-key, we presume. 
Best time to get a mouthful of (resit air— 
When the wind is in one’s teeth. 
Watering-places that remain open all 
winter—The mouth of milk caus. 
Tins prayer of the office-seeker—“ O that I 
were an event that might take place.” 
Not arrested—Tho reporter who took notes 
on the occasion of a recent bond robbery. 
A lock of hair from a young woman’s 
head is often a key to a young man’s heart. 
Why is a skating carnival like a confla¬ 
gration ? Because the belles call and the 
sparks lly. 
When is a lane dangerous to walk in? 
When the hedges are shooting and the bull 
rushes out. 
Why hermits should never reform—Be¬ 
cause if they do they will lead an ex¬ 
pensive life. 
“ Patrick, do you know the fate of the 
drunkard ?” “ Fate! don’t I stand on the 
most beautiful pair you ever see ?” 
ABOUT HANDS 
TREASURES IN HEAVEN, 
Arsene Hocsaye says in his latest essay 
on female beauty:—“ Irish girls have the 
most beautiful hands. English girls have too 
fleshy and plump hands. The hauds of 
American girls are too long and narrow. 
The fingers of German girls are too short and 
palms too broad. Next to the Irish girls, the 
daughters of Poland deserve the palm, so far 
as the beauty of the hand is concerned. The 
hands of French, Italian and Spanish girls 
may not he called indifferent, though there are 
more beautiful hands to be seen In France 
and Italy than in Spain. The Parisietmes 
bestow a great deal of care on their hands, 
and the consequence is that superficial and 
inexperienced observers will believe that 
they have finer hands than the women of any 
other part of France or any other country.” 
We read of a philosopher, who, passing 
through a mart filled with articles of taste 
and luxury, made himself quite happy with 
this simple yet sage reflection :—“ Ilowmany 
things there are here, that I do not want 1" 
Now, this is just the reflection with which 
the earnest believer passes happily through 
the world. It is richly furnished with what 
are called good things. It has spots of honor 
and power to tempt the restless aspirings of 
ambition of every grade. It has gold tfhd 
gems, houses and lands, for the covetous and 
ostentatious. It has innumerable bowers of 
taste and luxury, where self-indulgence may 
revel. But tho Chirstian whose piety is 
deep-toned, and whose spiritual conceptions 
are clear, looks over the world and exclaims, 
“ How much there is hero, that I do not 
want! I have what is far better. My treas¬ 
ure is in heaven.”— Dr. Tung. 
A SAD TESTIMONY 
A young friend of mine was speaking to 
me the other day of his business, of difficul¬ 
ties that seemed to him insurmountable. 
“ Have you told your father of this ?” said 
I, as he finished. 
“ No,” was the brief reply. 
“ Wouldn’t It be best for you to speak to 
him freely about it?" I suggested, “lie 
would help you to see your way through, 
I’m sure.” 
“Ah, cousin!” he replied, “1 could ask 
help of a stranger easier than of my father. 
You don’t know how stern he was with me 
when 1 was younger,—how severely he pun¬ 
ished my faults; and as for praise, he never 
gave it to me. I could have loved him once 
if he had allowed it, but now it seems as if 
he grows more and more absorbed in busi¬ 
ness every year. He eats and sleeps at home, 
and reads the paper there on Sunday even¬ 
ings. He wants us to take care of ourselves; 
he says that we needn’t look for help from 
him; but I would give every cent I expect 
to have if I had a real father. I do not 
care for money, but I do care for trust aud 
affection." 
What a sad comment upon a father’s life 
were these words from his son! I doubt not 
that he loves his family, yet how imperfect 
is the love that amasses earthly wealth and 
fails of the more satisfying riches. Where 
is the home life that should be so delightful 
Pabt Troubles. — Don’t harp on past 
troubles. When we sec a pale, nervous 
woman in the midst of her friends preferring 
to entertain them with a list of the racking 
pains she has suffered to a saunter in God’s 
free air and sunshine, we cannot wonder that 
the rose returns not to her blanched cheek. 
Why is it that to some these memories are 
very meat and drink ? They consume them 
—the bitter agony is acted over and over 
again, the tears thrice shed, the place cherish¬ 
ed where such a dreadful thing occurred—the 
scar fondly petted that tells of the almost fatal 
knifc. They gasp over and yet cling to them. 
Purity of Character. —There are in 
youth abeauty and purity of character which, 
when once touched and defiled, can never be 
restored; a fringe more delicate than frost¬ 
work, and which, when once torn and broken, 
can never be re-embroidered. He who hath 
spotted and soiled his garments in youth, 
though fie may seek to make them white 
again, can never wholly do it, even were he 
to wash them with his tears. 
“ Since I have found the Lord," said Lady 
Flora Hastings to a young friend, “ I have 
been as happy as an angel." Her words 
were like an arrow to the heart of her gay 
and pleasure-seeking companion. From that 
hour she could not rest amid the empty Joys 
of wealth, and pride, and rank, and pomp, 
and pleasure. She bought the Lord, and 
since tho days of the Marys who wept around 
Christ’s bleeding cross and rejoicod before 
his Opened sepulcher, we shall hardly find 
such a life of holy, burning, unselfish Chris¬ 
tian love and labor as was lived by that 
young lady, Selina, Countess of Huntingdon, 
for so many years tho fellow-worker and 
supporter of Whitefleld and liia associates. 
It iB much easier to think right without 
doing right than to do right without thinking 
right. Just thoughts may, and often do, fail 
of producing just deeds, but just deeds are 
sure to beget just thoughts. 
Kinder is the looking-glass than the wine¬ 
glass ; the former reveals our defects to our¬ 
selves only, the latter to our friends. 
Charity in the heart will brighten the 
life, and add new beauty to all around. 
