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SORROW. 
UPON my lips sho laid lior touch divlno, 
And merry speech and cureless laughter died; 
She Uxed her melancholy eyes on mine, 
And would not be denied. 
I saw the west wind loose his cloudlets white, 
In flocks careering through the April sky ; 
I could not sing, though joy was at its height, 
For she stood silent by. 
I watched the lovely evening fade nwny— 
A mist was lightly drawn across t ho stars. 
She broke my quiet dream 1 heard her say, 
“ Behold your prison bars ! 
Earth's gladness shall not satisfy your soul— 
This beauty of the world in which you live; 
The crowning grace that sanctifies the whole,— 
That I alone can give.” 
1 heard, and shrankaway from her afraid 
But still she. held me, and would still abide. 
Touth's bounding pulses slackened and obeyed. 
With slowly ebbing tide. 
“ Look thou beyond the evening 8ky v " she said, 
" Beyond the changing splendors of the day, 
Accept, the pain, the weariness, tiio dread. 
Accept and bid mo stay !” 
I turned and clasped heroloso, with sudden strength, 
And slowly, sweetly I became aware 
Within my arms Goo's angel stood,at. length. 
White-robed and calm and fair. 
And now I look beyond the evening star. 
Beyond the changing splendors of the day. 
Knowing the pain Ho sends more precious far. 
More beautiful than they. 
--- 
FLIRTING DEFINED. 
Having asked what the very common 
social amusement termed flirting really is, 
the London Saturday Review tlius answers: 
“ It is more serious than talking nonsense, 
and not so serious as making love; it is not 
chaff, and it is not feeling; it means some¬ 
thing more than indifference, and yet some¬ 
thing less than affection ; it binds no one, it 
commits no one.; it only raises expectations 
in the individual, and sets society on the 
lookout for results; it is a plaything in the 
hands of the inexperienced, but a. deadly 
weapon against the breast of the unwary; 
and it is a thing so vague, so protean, that 
the most accurate measurer of moral values 
-would be puzzled to say whore it exactly 
cuds and where serious intentions begin.” 
And then, as if conscious that this defini¬ 
tion is vague and unsatisfactory, the Review 
again asks “What is flirting?” and pro¬ 
ceeds to speak of it as something undefinablo, 
adding, further, the following: 
“ Every one has his or her own ideas of 
what constitutes flirting; consequently every 
one judges of that pleasant exercise accord¬ 
ing to individual temperament and experi¬ 
ence. Faded flowers, who see impropriety 
in everything they are no longer able to en¬ 
joy, say, with more or less severity, that 
Henry and Angelina are flirting if they are 
laughing and whispering in an alcove to¬ 
gether, probably at the most innocent non¬ 
sense in the world; but the. fact that they 
are enjoying themselves in their own way, 
albeit a silly one, is enough for the faded 
flower to think they are after mischief, flirt¬ 
ing being to her mind about the. worst piece 
of mischief that fallen humanity can per¬ 
petrate.” 
We do not regard it difficult to give a 
definition of flirting which shall include 
all individual definitions, differ as widely as 
they may. Flirting is trifling. However 
indulged in, or to what extent, it is a using 
of real means in a trivial manner, for trivial 
purposes. All flirts, of both genders, will 
acknowledge this. The true smiles of love 
which they give could be no truer, yet they 
mean nothing; Ihe sweet, half tender words 
they speak could be no sweeter, no more full 
of smothered tenderness, if they interpreted 
the deepest affection, yel. they are no better 
than burlesque- They arc beautiful means, 
granted lor earnest and profitable uses,—the 
winning of a genuine love and the after- 
keeping of it,—perverted to uses frivolous 
and unworthy, and winning only unprofita¬ 
ble results. 
It is foolish to suppose, as many excellent 
young people do, that there is a wide dis¬ 
tinction between flirting and trifling. There 
is in reality no distinction. We have said 
that the one is the other. Our statements in 
support of this declaration, carefully con¬ 
sidered, will have general assent. Jf there 
he no trifling there is no flirting, but only 
pleasant intercourse, meaning mutual enter¬ 
tainment,— no more. There are no itncon- 
sious flirts. Flirting is an art,— perhaps a 
line art, surely a dangerous art; and ever 
and necessarily artful. The simple, friendly 
association of those of opposite sexes bears 
a stamp of natural friendliness which cannot, 
he mistaken, while the association of flirts is 
wholly different, and to the keen observe! 
advertises itself unerringly. 
flic world would he very dull without 
dial innocent kiud of nonsense which often 
goes by the name of flirting — that pleasant 
something which is more than mere ac¬ 
quaintanceship and less than formal lover- 
hood that bright, and animated intercourse, 
which makes the hours pass so easily, yet 
w hich leaves no bitter pang of self-reproach; 
that indefinite and undefinablc interest by 
which the one man or the one woman be¬ 
comes a kind of microcosm for the time, the 
epitome of all that is pleasant and all that is 
lovely. The only caution to he observed is, 
not to go too far.” 
Thus further discourses the Review. But 
does it use terms correctly? Flirting may 
be nonsensical, but is it only nonsense to em¬ 
ploy a semblance of the purest and tenderest 
rcaehiugs out of one’s nature solely as 
snares? Is it not rather a crime? It is 
well that the Review gives a caution “not to 
go too far.” Yet when all trifling, and espe¬ 
cially all that which relates to the most sa¬ 
cred things of heart and life, is wholly 
wrong, and tends only to evil and unhappi¬ 
ness, it becomes a serious question how far 
one can go in triviality without danger. We 
advise all to ponder it. thoughtfully. 
Plioirf jllisccllatio. 
TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW. 
BY GERALD MASSEY. 
DOMESTIC LIFE IN INDIA. 
Of domestic life in India Mr. Coffin, in 
his “ New Way Round the World,” gives 
some painful yet interesting details. The 
following, which wc quote, is suggestive : 
Think of your little rosy-cheeked dar¬ 
ling who climbs upon your knee for her 
good-night kiss being affianced in marriage 
at the age of five, and at twelve being a 
bride, shut up for the rest of her days with 
nothing to do—no knitting - work, no bed- 
quilts to make, no knowledge of needle¬ 
work ; surrounded with books, yet not know¬ 
ing a letter; her room a blank wall; her 
daily duties for the remainder of her life be¬ 
ing the performance of her daily paojsa —a 
worship of a little brass or stone, image in 
I he; form of a monkey, or a figure with six 
arms and four faces; hanging flowers round 
its neck, sprinkling it with water, bowing 
before it, walking around it, talking to it as 
little girls do to their dolls, lighting little 
wax tapers; nothing hut this, except to 
dawdle her children, bring food to her hus¬ 
band, and oat her own, and re-arrange, ihe 
folds of cloth which answer for a garment; 
doing this-, and sleeping the rest, of her lime, 
from morning till night, from night till morn¬ 
ing, through the twenty - four hours, the 
weeks, the months, the years, from child¬ 
hood to old ago. 
Such is the daily, unvarying life of the 
Hindoo women of the upper classes. Tho 
Baboos, who read Shakspeare, who know 
what is going on in America, even to the 
rappings of the spirits, who will discuss the 
theisms of Theodore Parker with you, are 
beginning to foel that there is an awkward 
gap in tliuir system of life. 
Tho Hindoo upper classes, who are too in¬ 
telligent, to he grossly sensual Baboos, repu¬ 
diate Brigham Young. They are not polyga¬ 
mists; they are fond of their wives, and 
treat them with respect, and love their chil¬ 
dren especially if they are sons. But there 
is no Eve In their paradise. They come 
home from their counting-room when the 
day’s work is done, read a play from Shak- 
speare, or an article from Blackwood, or 
Longfellow’s last poem, and then comes the 
reflection that the wife, so far as this is con¬ 
cerned, is an idiot. 
-♦♦♦- 
GOSSIPY PARAGRAPHS. 
Woman shows her fondness for unity by 
always wanting to be won. 
Retrace your steps when you have done 
wrong; it is nobler too retract than sustain a 
bad cause. 
Never wait for a thing to turn up. Go 
and turn it up yourself. It takes less time 
and is sure to he done. 
Model wives formerly look a “ stitch in 
time,” now, with the aid of sewing machines, 
they take one in no time. 
A sagacious observer says;—“ When I 
sec children going to their father for comfort, 
I am sure there is something wrong with 
their mother.” 
“ Won’t you take half of th is poor apple V” 
said a pretty damsel. “ No, I thank you; I 
would prefer a better half.” Eliza blushed, 
and referred him to papa. 
An old bachelor having been laughed at 
by a bevy of pretty girls, told them that they 
were small potatoes. “ Wo may be small 
potatoes,” replied one of the maidens, “ but 
we are sweet ones.” 
A widower, having taken another wife, 
was, nevertheless, always paying some pane¬ 
gyric to the memory of his late spouse ill t he 
presence of the living one, who one day added, 
with great feeling, “ Believe me, my dear, 
nobody regrets her loss more than I do.” 
To he a woman of fashion is one of the 
easiest things in the world. A late writer 
thus describes it:—“Buy everything you 
don't, want and pay for nothing you get; 
smile on all mankind but your husband; be 
happy everywhere but at home.” 
If a well bred woman is surprised in care¬ 
less costume, she does not try to dodge 
behind the door to conceal deficiencies, nor 
does she turn red or stammer confused 
excuses. She rema ins calm and self-possessed 
and makes up in dignity what she may want 
in decoration. 
High hopes that burn like stars sublime, 
Go flown the heavens of Freedom, 
And true hearts perish in the time 
We bttterliest need them; 
But never sit we down and sny, 
“There’s nothing left, but sorrow.” 
Wowalkt.be wilderness to-dnjr, 
The Promised Land to-morrow. 
Our birds of sonn an* silent now. 
There are no flowers blooming, 
But life boats In the frozen bough, 
And Freedom's sprint; Iseomitut; 
And Freedom'S tide comes upulwuy. 
Though wo may stand In sorrow; 
And our good bark,aground to-day, 
Shall float again tu-iuorrow. 
Though hearts brood o’er the past, our eyes 
With smiling futures glisten ; 
Lo! now the dawn bursts up tho skies,— 
Lean out your souls and listen! 
The world rolls Freedom’s radiant way, 
And ripens with our sorrow ; 
And t,is the martyrdom to-day 
Brings victory to-morrow. 
Through all Ihe long, dark night of years 
The people’s cry ascended; 
And earth was wet with blood and tears 
Ere their meek sufferance ended. 
The few shall not forever sway, 
The mnuy toll In sorrow,- 
The bars of bell are strong to-day. 
But CHRIST shull rise to-morrow. 
O youths, flame earnest, still uspire. 
With energies Immortal: 
To many a haven of desiro 
Your yearning opes a portal; 
And though ago wearies by tho way, 
And hearts break lathe furrow. 
We’ll sow the guidon grain to-day, 
The harvest comes to-morrow. 
-- 
LEARN TO STOOP. 
“ Learn to stoop, and you'll nave yourself 
many a hard bump. ’ 
“ Poor Rickard” lias said many a worse 
iliing. A Franklin may tame tho light¬ 
ning, and pave the way for a Morse to 
teach it to do our bidding, but it will take a 
greater than they to tame tho “ unruly mem¬ 
ber,” or touch tho bulk of mankind that the 
small courtesies of life arc things not to be 
ignored. 
We say at the outset, never swerve one 
inch where an enlightened conscience says 
go straight ahead. But in the thousand 
things that are matters of form, uud matters 
of taste, and matters of opinion, why affirm 
that wo am right, and all the world beside 
are wrong? Why always insist on turning 
n square corner and standing on a crack? 
Why take all ihe rough^lilcos in life square 
abreast, when It is so easy to avoid some of 
tho sharp corners ? 
I lntvo been so tried with this tenacity of 
opinion in-iny friends; I say, as for me, let, 
me incline a little fonvaht, or a little back¬ 
ward, or a little to either side—anything hut 
standing bold upright! There is not the 
slightest doubt that when wc gel, to heaven, 
we shall learn, if not before, that we have 
all been mistaken about a great many tilings. 
We don’t, avo can’t, all see things from the 
same standpoint. 
I Avcll remember when I was a child, that 
a schoolmate and I broke friendship for a 
whole day, because avo disagreed as to the 
color of a house. It. was located at some 
distance from both our homes, yet in plain 
sight of each; still, neither of us had hap¬ 
pened to notice the house Avhen at, the other’s 
home. 
At night, when we went lo our mothers 
with the quarrel, didn't our little heads droop 
with shame, as our mammas said, “ You silly 
pots; did it never occur to you that one side 
of the house might be red, and tho other 
Avhite?” — Avhich Avas really the case. 7 
couldn’t sleep till I had permission to go 
to Kittie’s house and ask her to excuse me. 
Wc met half Avay, and parted the happiest 
little girls in Christendom. Whenever Kit- 
tie and I disagreed after that, it avus only 
necessary to glance in the direction of Mr. 
Flint’s house; that settled it. i wouldn’t 
take gold for that lesson. Hannah. 
-*-4-*- 
ADVANTAGE OF TRAVEL. 
Speaking of the advantages to be de¬ 
rived from travel, a Avriter in the Northwest¬ 
ern Christian Advocate thus wisely remarks; 
Educate a man as highly as you please. 
He may he happy in the exercise of his 
mind, or the contemplation of his knowledge; 
but throw him into society, or upon the 
stream of travel, and be feels painfully awk* 
ward, lie sees that he is sadly deficient in 
a kind of knowledge every Avay essential to 
bis comfort, and which seems to be abun¬ 
dantly possessed by everybody else. Just in 
proportion as you increase the book knowl¬ 
edge, you enhance the difficulty. The only 
way to obviate it, is to make a trip. 
Every person ought to make it a point and 
duty to do so, at. least once a year. It im¬ 
proves and increases our knowledge vastly, 
from observation of men and things. We 
see humanity in all its phases. A little of 
the Avorst, for that kind don’t travel much, 
and much of the best, for that kind travels a 
great deal. I hesitate not to say that the 
very large majority of our travelers is com¬ 
posed of the best and most intelligent of our 
people. The better and more intelligent, they 
arc, the more taste they have for this most 
rational nnd profitable Avay of improving 
personal qualities. 
As to manners there is nothing compar¬ 
able to it. It rounds, polishes and finishes 
our behavior. Pick up a pebble from a 
gravel bank. It avus once an angular, un¬ 
sightly fragment, that no one would care to 
see or touch. It is now rounded, smooth and 
beautiful, just such a thing us every one ad¬ 
mires, and children love to play with. This 
w as effected by change of place. It has 
traveled far and Avitli much company, until 
its rudeness is gone, and the true beauty of 
its nature appears. Travel Avill have the 
same effect upon our mind and manners. 
—--- 
INSTINCT WITHOUT BRAINS. 
Long ago it Avas ascertained by naturalists 
that worms and insects arc. without a brain, 
and yet they pursue a course of activity 
Avhieli borders on the domain of reason ; so 
wc are accustomed to say that they act from 
instinct, Avhich is no explanation at all of 
phenomena in the highest orders of organic 
life which have their origin in the brain. If 
that organ is severely injured, so that its 
normal functions arc no longer performed, 
consciousness and orderly manifestat ions of 
its influence are interrupted or suspended. 
But the insect world swarms with beings 
of the most delicate construction, Avithoul 
hearts and without brains, Avhose movements 
and habits, independently of thousands of 
contingencies to which they are exposed, 
prove, in the most satisfactory manner, that 
their acts arc a. near approach to elements 
of a reasoning faculty, If they do not indi¬ 
cate reason itself. When, by accident, the 
thread of a spider’s Aveb is broken, the little 
Avcavcr examines the misfortune with ex¬ 
treme care, anti by taking different positions 
surveys the damage, and then proceeds art is 
tically to repair it by splicing or inserting' 
tm entire new cord. 
Again, when a Avandewng fly becomes en¬ 
tangled in the net, tho owner of the trap, 
lying patiently near by for game, Indicates 
calculation in regard to the character and 
strength of tho victim. Does it not. strange¬ 
ly resemble reason when all its movements, 
under such an aspect of affairs, show beyond 
a doubt llm spider considers tho matter in 
all its relations before venturing to seize the 
prey ? And yet spiders arc Avithout a brain. 
-♦♦♦- 
ECHO-MEN. 
Tiiere is no greater bore than an echo 
that repeats, usscnlingly, Avhatever one sug¬ 
gests or asserts. 11. is a nuisance to be always 
coincided with. A man of sense likes to argue 
his points and prove his positions. Tim 
whet-stone of opposition sharpens his wits; 
but if he meet Avith a continual affirmative 
iteration of his own words bis game is block¬ 
ed, and he is, so to speak, dumbfounded. On 
the contrary, a sententious “No, 1 don’t think 
so,” puts a man on his mettle. If wrong, lie 
has a chance of being set right; if right, of 
enjoying an honest triumph. 
To he in company Avitli one avIio has no 
opinion but. your Opinion is as bad as being 
caged Avitli a jackdaw. If you ask an in¬ 
dividual in the habit of agreeing with every¬ 
body the reason of compliance, he may tell 
you, perhaps, that, he hates controversy. 
Hates controversy! t lo might as well say he 
hates truth, for disputation is the crucible in 
which the gold of truth is separated from the 
alloy of error. 1 low ninny things Averc taken 
for granted in former ages that modern argu¬ 
ment lias shown to he mere fallacies. The 
grand object of a man of mind is to acquire 
knoAvledgo; but lie can learn nothing from 
those avIio are always ready to pin their 1'aiih 
on his sleeve without taking the trouble to 
think for themselves. We detest the suavity 
that is too polite to doubt, and the difference 
that is too phlegmatic to argue. 
---- 
A Horse’s Helping Hand. —A blind 
horse wandered into White River at Indian¬ 
apolis, and getting beyond his depth, swam 
around in a circle, trying to find his AVayout. 
His distress attracted another horse not far 
away on the bank, who first Avent to the 
water’s edge and tried to direct the blind 
horse by neighing. Failing in this he took to 
the water, and swam out to his relief, and 
after swimming around ldm for nearly a 
quarter of an hour, lie finally got the blind 
horse to understand in what direction the 
land lay, and the two horses came to shore 
side by side, amid the cheers of upward of 
one hundred persons, who hud become 
spectators. 
-- 
Receipt fora Happy Home. —Six things, 
says Hamilton, arc requisite to create a happy 
home. Integrity must, he the architect, and 
tidiness the upholsterer. It must be Avanned 
by affection, and lighted up with cheerful¬ 
ness ; ami industry must lie the ventilator, 
renewing the atmosphere and bringing in 
fresh salubrity every day; while over all, a 
protecting canopy of glory, and nothing will 
suffice except the blessing of God. 
<ryo 
jfcJblmfl) llrabtng. 
MY EARTHLY WINGS. 
BY A. ir. LINTON. 
Do T wait for niy wings? All, yes! 
For I crawl in tho dust of earth, 
Ami tho powers upliftiug I would possess 
W ill beam on u bettor birth. 
There is oily a weight ou tuy spirits hero,— 
A heaviness tilling the atmosphere.— 
And the days are the same through the live-long year, 
Dull, dreary, and barren of worth. 
Do I wait lor my wings? All, no I 
Though I crawl In the dust to-day, 
There are times when above all the dross I go, 
On my earth-wings borne away ; 
AVlieti above all the wearying cure l rise. 
And my being laughs out In n glad surprise 
At the glory that goldens the upper skies 
Wh0i'e the beautiful sunbeams slay I 
Do you atilt of my earthly wings? 
Do you wonder wliato'cr they bo ? 
They are commonest e von of common things, 
And not given alone to mo. 
They are only tho words of soino tuneful air. 
Or the syllables sweet of an earnest prayer. 
But my soul o’er tho barrens of earth they bear 
Till tho gardens of God I see I 
AA'hen within tho church walls I sit, 
AVrapt around by the twilight dim 
Where the dawn and tho dark, alternating, flit, 
Borne nlnrtg by some tender hymn 
I have loftnll tho hush of the service low. 
To he thrilled by un anthem no mortals know. 
And to gladden my eyes with the wondrous glow 
Of the pictures uo brush can Hum ! 
So I wall, for my wings In peace, 
And I Hud them sometimes In Joy! 
By-und-by when my sorrows shull have surcease, 
1 shall ever my wings employ l 
Not. always lo creep, Is It mine, In dust. 
For tho Giver of wings Is the Good and Just, 
And 1 wait In my bondage of elny. and trust 
That my bonds will ere long release! 
EVERY-DAY PHILOSOPHY. 
There arc silent educators in every life. 
Each new experience is a teacher ; each."olcl 
and fhmiliar experience hut, repeats an old 
and familiar lesson with a new emphasis. 
Anil the intent of all this is wliat? To take 
uAvay the superfluous in our natures; to 
crush out certain inordinate desires; to dis¬ 
place impatience and over-auxioty Avith a 
quiet, calm philosophy ivhich can meet all 
disappointments Avitli resignation, and which, 
is a more sure guarantee of happiness than 
any outward circumstance. 
More than any other influence docs the 
Christian religion conduce to this every¬ 
day philosophy. Skepticism, in exceptional 
cases, may wear a peaceful, unimpassioned 
front, and may manifest less impudence over 
the daily vexations than the average Chris¬ 
tian does; but in the majority of instances 
unbelief is over troubled at heart, is not at 
peace with itself, ami so cannot be at peace 
with ordinary surroundings. Moralism may 
Surround itself with an air of serenity, hut 
the first storm-breath disturbs it, and all the 
outgrowths of its being sway to and fro like 
young tree-tops in a storm. 
And yet greatly as a fervent Christian faith 
tends to give placidity to one’s nature, there 
are many more than passable Christians who 
have no particle of this excellent philosophy 
of which we arc speaking. At the least trifle 
they are off their balance. At a word they 
fret, scold, worry, fume. A disappointment 
sets them nearly Avild. A greatsorrow makes 
them frantic with grief. A deep wrong mad¬ 
dens them Avith pain. They arc the touch- 
me-nots of the human family, and fly all to 
pieces at the slightest provocation. 
Arc there excuses for such? Doubtless. 
Nature is responsible for their unfortunate 
condition in a largo measure. But nature 
can be greatly made over; one must, blame 
One’s self mainly for any lack in self disci¬ 
pline. Moreover, love of Christ in the heart 
is the power which re-moulds the natural 
man, and which if but, aided in its work will 
accomplish noble things. In most cases the 
lack of every-day philosophy arises simply 
through personal carelessness. Men don’t 
try to check natural impulses. The first 
thought of the mind, the first promptings of 
the heart, are yielded to. Afterwards the 
penitence may be deep, even unto tears, Imt 
it brings no fruit That is the trouble. To 
err and then repent of it is the daily experi¬ 
ence of every one who fails to acquire Chris¬ 
tian philosophy, and it, is sorrowful to think 
that such experience, repeating its teachings, 
impresses no lasting lesson. 
- +++ - 
DISCOURAGEMENT. 
We doubt not that there will be seasons, 
even in the happiest Christian pilgrimage, 
when the soul Avill be “ discouraged, because 
of the Avay ; ” when difficulties which tve 
thought had passed over, will reappear; 
when temptations which avc hoped Imd been 
forever vanquished, will again rise up against 
us; and these will lead us to feel a deep sense 
of despondency; avc shall be tempted to 
think God cannot pardon delinquencies so 
frequent and unprovoked, and that wo shall 
certainly perish on the journey, and never 
arrive at that journey’s blissful end. Let us 
be careful that such feelings lead us not into 
temptations! that they do not close our eyes 
and our hearts against the infinity of God’s 
mercy in Christ Jesus. 
