BOASTING AND LAMENT 
BY EMM A S. SITE WELL. 
RotWo, round moon, in your heaven cf blue, 
Look in nt tny eiisomont now. 
And smile with me on my ehlltlren two,— 
My brave, brixlit FllKT) and my precious Lor, 
With the brown curls on her brow. 
Round, round moon, from your home of light. 
Truly toll me, I pray. 
Bid you ever see .1 fairer sight— 
At dawn of day or at noon of night— 
Thun my sleeping darlings, say? 
******** 
Round, round moon. I do not smile 
When you look in my casement now! 
My heart is lone, ftnil with bowed head 
I sit by my children’s empty bed— 
I’ve done with boasting now 1 
O pitying moon, with your tender smile, 
Shine soft on their empty bed. 
Then light my path the weary mile. 
Till I sit alone on the kirkynrd stile 
By the graves of my children (trad. 
-♦-*-♦- 
A CHILD’S REBUKE. 
“ Mother, may I go over and play with 
Lizzie Carlton a little while V” said my 
little blue-eyed daughter one morning when 
we were out calling on a friend. The little 
one had not been particularly interested in 
our conversation, and of course had become 
restless. So I gave her the required permis¬ 
sion, adding carelessly that she must, not stay 
long. 
“Only a few moments, mamma;" and 
away went the little velvet-cheek beauty with 
a skip-and-hop that was graceful, if not ele¬ 
gant. 
Five, ten, twenty minutes passed and I 
was ready to take my departure. But. Net¬ 
tie did not return. I began to feel some¬ 
what annoyed at her, to me, long delay. 
Fifteen minutes more were spent in fashion¬ 
able gossip, and then tue little one made her 
appearance, with a countenance beaming 
with pleasure; elm liad evidently had" a 
pleasant time with her little friend. I gently 
chided her for being gone so long when I 
had expressed a wish for her return in a few 
minutes, 
“ Why, mamma,” was her answer, “ I did 
come in a few minutes. May he they were 
long ones; hut they were like yours when I 
want something. You say in a few minutes, 
and i al’ays have to wait a half an hour.” 
Ah ! thought T, as I wended my way over 
the pavement, is it, any wonder that our 
children learn to tell “white lies,” and then 
those of darker hue if we arc so careless in 
keeping our word with them ? I lmd not 
been aware of the pernicious example I was 
setting before my child, until I received her 
unintentional rebuke. Then upon a close 
examination of my words and acts for a 
single day I found that, though I always 
prided myself on my truthfulness, I was in 
the constant habit of speaking cither by 
word or action those very untruths I so much 
abhorred. 
Mothers and teachers, let me entreat you 
to be more watchful over your own deport¬ 
ment; remember that those young minds 
are constantly expanding and receiving im¬ 
pressions of habits and principles that, must 
forever remain. Then let those impressions 
he of a character that shall lead them up out 
of the depths of sin into the presence of ce¬ 
lestial spirits. Let your example and your 
precepts be like guardian angels ever pres¬ 
ent, for good, around those you love. 
May Maple. 
-♦-*-*- 
VALUE OF CORAL. 
Ix a recent letter to the Springfield Re¬ 
publican, Dr. Holland refers to the coral 
workers in Naples, and gives some informa¬ 
tion in regard to the comparative value of 
coral, as follows; 
Naples is known, the world over, for its 
productions of coral jewelry; and everybody 
who goes there passes through the coral 
fever before he leaves the city. The shop 
windows are full of the, most exquisite pro¬ 
ducts in this beautiful material, and, as the 
prices asked arc considerably less than lu 
America, the purchases by Americans are 
very large. I do not know that I have any¬ 
thing of interest to say about these products, 
except to point out to my lady friends at 
home those qualities in coral which fix its 
value in Naples. 
I 11 a conversation with one of the manu¬ 
facturers, 1 learned that coral depends for its 
value upon three considerations—its color, 
its size, and the perfection of its texture. 
The valuable colors, or tints, of coral are 
sufficiently well understood among American 
ladies; but they are not all aware that it is 
the imperfections of coral that determine, 
more than anything else, the forms into 
which it shall be curved. 
A large piece of coral, for instance, one 
side of which is sound and the opposite side 
ol which is imperfect, will be made into a 
Pompeian face, or some other face, either 
human or animal. Small pieces of coral 
with the same imperfections will be carved 
into flowers. 
It may at once be concluded, by any pur¬ 
chaser of coral, that those articles which rep¬ 
resent. faoes, with the hack side flat, or 
combinations of little flowers, belong to the 
second class, so far as their value is con¬ 
cerned, no matter how pretty they may be; 
and some of them are very beautiful iudeed. 
In fact, I think there arc many American 
ladies who suppose representations of flow¬ 
ers in coral to be particularly valuable and 
desirable. That was the popular opinion 
formerly, I know. 
The most valuable articles of coral jewelry 
are those which present coral in the largest 
perfect masses — masses symmetrical in 
form and having no imperfections in any 
aspect. So we have them made up into 
brooches, bracelets, etc., in combinations of 
bars, lobes, spheres, or sprigs of natural 
form, which bear examination upon every 
side. It thus happens that the best coral 
jewelry is the least ornate, and the least 
attractive to the uneducated eye. It. is as¬ 
tonishing how a few days of looking into 
shop windows sets one against all the prctli- 
nees of coral flowers and fruits and faces, 
and fastens one’s admiration upon the plain 
and massive specimens of the perfect coral, 
whoso value lies in its perfection. 
THE YOUNG GIRL. 
Have you never watched a young girl as 
she sits and thinks? The pleasant smile 
stealing round her lips; no frown or anxious 
care on her forehead; no pained look in her 
eyes. Oh, my poor, weary-hearted reader, 
who has, like me, gone through life’s strug¬ 
gle, what would you not give to he like her— 
to be as you once were? But that, with 
many another joy, has passed away from 
you forever. You are only too glad now to 
sit a while and enjoy to-day’s peace, and you 
have no trembling hopes, no feverish long¬ 
ings for to-morrow. It does seem too bad 
that as we grow old or all faith in the future 
vanishes, and anticipation, in itself a pleas¬ 
ure, leaves us. The time comes to us all 
when thinking is only pain, for it, is either a 
sad, sad retrospect, or a foreshadowing of 
coming trouble. You tluit arc young prize 
the sunny days that are passing like a breath; 
enjoy them while you can, for beyond there 
lies a dreary waste.— My Own Mori/. 
—--- 
FALSE BEAUTY. 
Every once in a while occurs a case of 
accidental poisoning among the young girls 
of our country, who arc anxious to look a 
little better than their Creator made them 
to iook. Not long since a young lady in 
California, possessed of “ more than a ruddy 
complexion,” determined to tone down the 
color of her face by the use of arsenic, a not 
uncommon practice with young ladies. In 
this case, the silly girl was unacquainted 
with the strength and effect of arsenic, and 
took at, a single dose about a teaspoonfi.il. Of 
course, she paid the penalty with her life. 
More of our American girls are wrecked, 
morally and physically, through their over¬ 
weening desire to be " pretty," than from all 
other causes combined. Any attempt to 
materially alter or improve the. Creator’s 
work, must end in failure. 
-♦♦*- 
CLEANLINESS. 
A neat, clean, fresh-aired, sweet, cheerful, 
well-arranged house, exerts a moral as well 
as physical influence over its inmates, and 
makes the members of a family peaceable, 
and considerate of each other’s feelings and 
happiness. The connection is obvious be¬ 
tween the state of mind thus produced, and 
habits of respect for others, and for those 
higher didies and obligations which no laws 
can enforce. On the contrary, a filthy, 
squalid, noxious dwelling, in which none of 
the decencies of life can be observed, con¬ 
tributes to make its inhabitants selfish, sen¬ 
sual, and regardless of the feelings of others; 
and the constant, indulgence of such passions 
renders them reckless and brutal. 
-*^*- 
A GOOD RESOLVE. 
A story is told of a temperance man 
being at a wedding, who was asked to drink 
the bride’s health in a glass ot wine which 
was offered him. He refused to partake ot 
the intoxicating liquid, and said when he 
drank her health it, Would lie in that which 
resembled her most in purity, and lift knew 
nothing better than water—pure water, lie 
then drank to her health in a glass of God’s 
beverage—sparkling water. The ladies as¬ 
sembled on the occasion immediately stepped 
forward, and, making a respectful courtesy, 
thanked him for the beautiful compliment 
he had just paid the fair bride, when it was 
resolved that all intoxicating drink be banish¬ 
ed from the room. 
- +++ - 
A PROPER OATII. 
" Do you.” siild Panov, t’other day, 
"In earnest love me as you say? 
Or are those teruler words applied 
Alike to fifty K irl! * beside?” 
“ Dear cruel girl,” Dried I, “ forbear; 
For by those eyes, those lips I swear.” 
She stopped me, as the oath I took, 
And cried, ’* You’ve sworn, now kiss the book /” 
Over the white, bleak, barren land, 
Level arid golden, has dropt. the sun; 
Down on the wild shore’s loy sand 
Boom the loud breakers, one by ono. 
Out. from the bluo cast, fierce atul round, 
Thu rod moon greatens n or Jostling waves; 
And now with impetuous, dreary sound. 
The voleo of the sweeping night-blast raves. 
And angrier, louder the billows wulte. 
Whither its mighty footstep shocks, 
Tossed Into surixes that momently break, 
Biifiuung on precipitous rooks. 
There. In the empty, solemn house, 
Blttdth a woman while shadows fall. 
Harkening mutely, with bended brows, 
To the clonk that tlcka from the lonesome hall. 
A feeble monotone, vague to hear, 
While turbulent, waters clash below ; 
Yet evorv stroke to the listener's ear 
Is sweet with tho music of long ago. 
For the ancient utoek Irom the Corner dim 
(Jan deal with Um« in marvelous ways, 
And tieu, whoa the mood so pleases him. 
Buck through a thousand yesterdays. 
And to her who llaten* al honrs like these, 
"Tin the same if abroad 00 tumult or rest— 
Thunderous battle nt wintry seas. 
Or ImundlesM calm on ocean's breast. 
How often fpo'rahnnce with dreams to weave 
Of the undent clocks In our lonesome hulls) 
The tempest and clamor of life we leave. 
When memory's magic whisper oalls. 
- +-*-* - 
WHY BOYS LEAVE THE FARM. 
A smart Ohio boy, who evidently has 
some opinions of his own, and who can ex¬ 
press them very well, withal, writes us as 
follows: 
“ In perusing the. Rural, and other pa¬ 
pers, 1 have frequently encountered articles 
urging the hoys to stick to the farm. Vos, 
editors and writers for agricultural papers, 
all urge upon us the necessity of doing what 
they would not do themselves, nor urge their 
own boys to do. You tell us that the world 
is in need of farmers. Granted! but, unless 
you can show * the hoys’ that they arc to he 
directly benefited, tho world will cry for 
farmers for some time. 
“ We like fanning, in many respects. We 
like the independence. The work keeps our 
muscles hardened. The pure air sends the 
blood just bounding through our veins, and 
the ' bread and milk uurobbed of cream,’ are, 
to say the least, delicious. But then, we want, 
in the first place, a good education; next, a 
business which shall bring us iu contact, 
with society, and liiruish mouey enough to 
buy more hooks than farmers generally 
have, and give, us lime to read them. We 
admire physical and moral culture ; but give 
us a chance for more mental culture, and 
we, will, some of us,' stick t* the farm.’ ” 
Our young friend manifests such a spirit, 
as we should like to sfie more common 
among boys. Aud he is right, on tho main 
question, which lias been so much talked 
about all over the country, and which is 
proving a puzzle to so many in the rural dis¬ 
tricts. Boys will leave the farm,—and why ? 
He answers the interrogatory. Because,, to 
sensible youths like himself, who thirst for 
knowledge and desire mental improvement, 
the farm does not offer sufficient inducement 
for them to remain. They ask for assurance 
“ that, they are to lx; directly benefited.” 
Such assurance should be given. It is not 
enough that they may succeed to the home¬ 
stead when “ the old people” die. Boys of 
a dozen or fifteen years do not. often look to 
the immediate pecuniary interest so much as 
they do to the present or prospective oppor¬ 
tunities for enlarging the outreach of their 
life. To it lively, ambitious boy, the confine 
of a farm is small, and it embraces little that 
is very desirable. Beyond it is the great 
world, — a world untried, —a region hound- 
less in its riches, its beauties, and its possi¬ 
bilities. And the great, world calls loudly. 
Unless the limits of the. farm be. broadened, 
so to speak, they bear the call, and the old 
homestead, exists for them thereafter but in 
memory. 
If the direct benefit which boys desire 
were alone of a pecuniary nature, we who 
urge them to stick to the farm could readily 
show it. We could point to thousands on 
thousands of prosperous farmers, who have 
won competences from the soil. We could 
prove, by living illustrations in sad numbers, 
that they who forsake the farm for the work¬ 
shop or the store oltencr fail than succeed. 
But its the. desired good is more than pe¬ 
cuniary, it does not belong to editors wholly 
to elucidate it. A large part of the matter 
rests with tho form-owners—the parents. 
They must seek to rentier the farm toil less 
slavish, and more ennobling. They must 
introduce elements into the liome-life which 
shall make it attractive. They must show, 
by every means in their power, that the farm 
is the best place from which to look out up¬ 
on the world, and that while no other occu¬ 
pation is so sure in ils pecuniary results as 
that of the farmer, none other offers so excel¬ 
lent, opportunities for self-culture. 
Of course such a showing as this on the 
part of the parents will necessitate care, and 
perhaps sacrifice. It will require that chil¬ 
dren be not always closely confined to drudg¬ 
ery,—that considerable money be spent for 
books, and for occasional journeys here and 
there; and that time be given regularly for 
reading and Intelligent con vense. This, aside 
from the regular attendance at school, which 
will be liberal. Home beautifying will also 
be required; because to beautify one’s sur¬ 
roundings is to cultivate one’s self. All this 
may be expensive, as to time and means, but 
it will assuredly bring its reward. The 
fathers and mothers will grow old us grace¬ 
fully as all people should, in the glad eon 
sciousness that their children are expanding 
mentally as well as physically; ancl as “old 
folks" they will sit round the hearthstone in 
the twilight, blessed with sweet content, and 
the ministrations of those truly manly souls 
who, being made to see their best interests, 
shall have “ stuck to the farm,” 
-♦**- 
A THOUSAND YEARS AS A DAY. 
Not long ago, a friend handed us, for 
perusal, a boat, morocco-covered pamphlet, 
of eighty pages,— an American edition of an 
English work, entitled “ The Stars and the 
Earth,”—containing some old and some¬ 
what familiar astronomical truths, very 
beautifully and poetically told, and made to 
illustrate very interestingly and poetically 
some of the grandest ideas. 
It is a well known, demonstrable fact that 
light travels about two hum-red thousand 
miles per second; that it requires about 
three years fin' the light from a Star of the 
first magltudc to reach us, about one hundred 
and eighty years from a star of the seventh, 
and about four thousand years from a star 
of the twelfth. 
The converse of this is equally true. The 
light, therefore, reflected from the earth, 
which strikes the eye of an observer on a 
slur of the third magnitude, would show, at 
this time, the condition of things terrestrial 
about tho first year of Johnson's administra¬ 
tion. A dweller on a star of the seventh 
magnitude would look upon us as WO were 
(luring “King William’s war;” while an 
inhabitant of u twelfth mugitudo star would 
behold the earth as it was tour thousand 
years ago, and, perhaps, witness the confu¬ 
sion of tongues at the tower of Babel. 
Imagine, now, a being of unlimited power 
of vision and comprehension, and suscepti¬ 
ble of being transported in an inconceivably 
short space of time, from earth to a star of 
the twelfth magnitude, aud you spread before 
fi lm a panorama of the world’s history for 
four thousand years. 
We can readily understand, therefore, 
how it is that, to an infinite being, whose 
omniscient eye looks forth, at. the same in¬ 
stant, from all the planets and stars, all the 
doings of the ages past are ever present, 
and “ A thousand years are as one day." 
We present another homely condensation 
of a beautiful thought, and leave the work 
to delight our readers to a greater extent. 
Could we, for once, he gifted with the 
power of locomotion with as great rapidity 
as light moves, and start upon our journey 
at the instant a buttcrtly passes us so swiftly 
that we C-iin hardly distinguish its colors, we 
might, then, at. our leisure, count the grains 
of colored dust upon its tiny wings; or, if 
our journey began at the moment a flower 
hud began to unfold, or a. flash of lightning 
gleamed across the sky, we might, devote 
unlimited time to an examination of the 
phenomena. l. d. b. 
-♦-*-♦- 
OLD AGE AND YOUTH. 
In the course of his after-dinner speech at 
the late Commencement of Williams Col¬ 
lege, the venerable poet, William Cullen 
Bryant, drew Ibis beautiful yet sad con¬ 
trast between old age and youth as typified 
in himself and the young men about him: 
It has occurred to me, since 1, In the de¬ 
cline of life, came to visit once more this 
seat of learning in which our youth arc 
trained to succeed us on the stage, of the 
world, that I am in the situation of one who, 
standing on a spot desolate with winter and 
dim with twilight, should be permitted by a 
sort of miracle to look upon a neighboring 
region glorious with the bloom of spring and 
bright with the beams of morning. On the 
side where I stand are herbless fields and 
leafless woods, pools sheeted with tee, a 
frozen soil, and the shadows of approaching 
night. On the side to which I look are- 
emerald meadows, fields of springing wheat, 
orchards in bloom, transparent streams and 
a genial sunshine. 
With me, it is too late for any further 
hopeful tillage, and if the plough were put 
into the ground, its colter would be ob¬ 
structed by the ice-bound sods. On the side 
to which i look I see the tokens ot judicious 
cultivation and careful tendance, recom¬ 
pensed by a free and promising growth. I 
rejoice at the kindly care thus bestowed, and 
my hope and prayer Is that under such 
auspices all the promise which meets my 
eyes may he amply fulfilled, and that from 
these luxuriant fields a harvest may be gath¬ 
ered richer and more abundant than lias ever 
yet been stored in the granaries of our land. 
SORROW’S JOY. 
BY CHRISTINA ROSSETTI. 
Tht, thornsnmsliart*, yet 1 oun troaU or) them; 
Tho oilp Is bitter, yat Ho makos it Hwoet; 
My tuco is Htoadl’ast toward Jerusalem; 
My heart remembers tt. 
I lift tho hanging hands, tho feeble knees— 
L precious more tlmu rovon-tlmos motion gold— 
Until tho day when from llis storehouses 
God shall bring now and old. 
Beauty for ashen, oil nf Joy for Brief, 
Garment, of pralso for spirit of heaviness; 
Although to-duy I fade us doth a leaf, 
J languish and grow )e»s. 
Although to-duy Ho prunes my twigs with pain. 
Yet doth Ills blood nourish aud warm my root; 
To-morrow I shall put forth butts again. 
And elotho myself With fruit. 
Although to-day t walk in tedious ways— 
To-duy Ills staff Is turned Into a rod,— 
Yet will I wait for Him the appointed days, 
And stay upon my God. 
[Words of Hope. 
-<♦♦♦- 
CHRISTIAN HUMANITY. 
Is there not. a lesson for Christian church¬ 
es, and Christian people generally, in the 
close sympathy which is manifest in curtain 
secular organizations known as “ eetret so¬ 
cieties V" in these organizations member is 
bound to member with a nearness null faith¬ 
fulness which Is not often seen among those 
whoso Christian humanity ought to be the 
closest linking on earth. Surely tho spirit 
ot Christ should be more warming in every 
heart claiming it than any other influence. 
Did Christians cling to each other with a 
heartier grasp, this old world of ours would 
wear a new smile. There would be fewer 
bickerings in communities, more happiness 
for families and individuals, and a stronger 
reaching^ out toward the ungodly of that 
subtle something which makes every church 
more or less a blessing, every Christian more 
or less a missionary. Human love and sym¬ 
pathy are the two great tilings which mor¬ 
tals crave; and if the vilest can turn loan 
organization of Christians and say “ See how 
these people love one another," the desire to 
be of them will avail for good. 
Man’s humanity should over he his strong¬ 
est, bond to man. Never should the prompt¬ 
ings of any organization, religious or secu¬ 
lar, he in Ore powerful than the cry of tho 
human which is within him, going out to 
answer the cry of every oilier human. What 
are societies but agencies for bis humanity? 
And back of all societies, all organizations, 
this humanity is of an individual nature, 
and, if the world is to he widely benefited, 
must assert itself individually. 
The world never needed this- Christian 
humanity more than it needs it to-day. So¬ 
ciety is disintegrating. Unholy influences 
are at work, dividing it into little sects, and 
cliques, each with aims and desires antago¬ 
nistic to the general welfare. Only tho 
broadest, humanity on the part of churches 
and individuals can stay the disintegrating 
process, and preserve anything like a unity 
of mankind. Unless it, be exercised, selfish¬ 
ness and greed will choke out all sweet 
charities, and man’s supreme pleasure will 
consist in feeling that, he is not. “ a man and 
brother,” but, a man and master ! 
- 4 -*-»—- 
THE COMFORTER OF THE NEEDY. 
“Come unto me,” says the blessed Jesus, 
“ all ye that, labor and are heavy laden, and 
I will give you rest.” And herein 1 le ex¬ 
actly fulfils the appointment of His Father, 
and acts in the most perfect conformity to 
tlie commission He received from Him; of 
which we have a fair copy in Isaiah In i. 1,— 
“The Spirit of tho Lord God is upon me, 
because the Lord hath anointed me to preach 
good tidings to the meek ; he hath sent mo 
to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim 
liberty to the captives, and the opening of 
the prison*to them that are bound.” From 
this passage it plainly appears that humbled, 
convinced souls are his peculiar charge; He 
is the physician, not of the whole, hut of the 
sick; not of those that justify them selves, but 
of those who are perishing in their own 
apprehension, who feel their need of Him, 
and know something of the worth of that 
salvation which He brings.— Walker. 
-♦»♦ 
Meditation. —It is not hasty reading but 
seriously meditating upon holy and heavenly 
truths that makes them prove sweet and 
profitable to the soul. It is not the bee’s 
touching on the flowers that gathers honey, 
hut her abiding for a time upon them, and 
drawing out the sweet. It is not he that 
reads most, but he that meditates most on 
divine truth that will prove the choicest, 
wisest, strongest Christian .—Bishop Ilall. 
-- 
Not to believe that the Bible is God’s mes¬ 
sage is voluntarily to deprive one’s self of all 
true, well-founded knowledge about God and 
our future state. It is returning to darkness 
—it is to ruin our own prospects, and perhaps 
also the welfare of many others with us.— 
Merle 1)' Aubigne. 
