‘abas' j30rt'Jf0licr. 
THE ROSE BUSH. 
A CHILD sleeps under a rose bush fair; 
The buds swell out in the soft May air; 
Sweetly it rests, and on dream wings flies 
To play with the angels in Paradise. 
And the years go by. 
A maiden stands by the rose bush fair; 
The dewy blossoms perfume the air ; 
She presses her hand to her throbbing breast 
With love's first wonderful rapture blest. 
.And the years go by. 
A mother kneels by the rose bush fair: 
Soft sigh the leaves in tin? evening air ; 
Sorrowing thoughts of the past arise. 
And tears of anguish bedim her eyo3. 
And the years go by. 
Naked and lone stands the rose bush fair; 
Whirled are its loaves in the autumn air; 
Withered and dead, they fall to the ground. 
And silently cover a new made mound. 
And the years go by. 
[From the German. 
A QUEEN’S LIFE. 
We wonder, sometimes, if those women 
whose lots in life seem lmrd, and are hard, 
and who long for the glitter of some higher 
sphere, would really he glad to take Vic¬ 
toria's place for a season and play the 
Queen. At the first thought, that queenly 
eminence she occupies seems worth t he hold¬ 
ing, and there are many who look upon it. 
with envious eyes. Tt has so much of luxury 
and magnificence which is denied to the 
common world ! About it cluster such rare 
possibilities of joy and joy-giving! So proud¬ 
ly noble must it he to stretch one's arm out 
in authority over the oldest kingdom now in 
existence! 
Ancl yet the more we read of England’s 
Queen, the more is our heart moved to pro- 
foundest pity for her. If she is a sensitive 
woman,—And we believe she is,—her life 
must he constantly cml/Utercd by reports 
that falsify her to the public. Almost daily 
some new story is started which libels her 
womanhood. Only yesterday we read a. 
paragraph that, written of any true-hearted 
woman in private life, and published in the 
most insignificant sheet printed, would over¬ 
whelm her with sorrow. That, paragraph i:» 
published broadcast oyer England and Amer¬ 
ica, and the royal victim of it can but feel its 
cruel sting. It represents her as far from the 
pattern wifi; the world has long supposed 
her, and says she made Prince At.hurt's ex¬ 
istence a very wretched one indeed. 
Is this a light thing to say? Is it compen¬ 
sated for by the glories attaching to royalty ? 
Let it la; said of good Mrs. Anonymous, 
who devotes herself zealously to the care of 
her household, and who is a very excellent 
■wife and mother, tUat she is a shrew, and 
her husband can take no pence in her so¬ 
ciety,—let it. ho said of her publicly, and to 
many who can only accept it as truth,—and 
see if she regards it as a light thing. But 
this is not the worst. More damaging libels 
than this have been publicly pronounced 
against Iler Majesty, a9 our readers can well 
remember,—libels that passed for true state¬ 
ments with thousands, and were super¬ 
latively painful. 
Bear in mind that the stinging things re¬ 
peatedly said of her are not said of Vic¬ 
toria the woman, but of Her Majesty the 
Queen. That is, they are said of her not 
because she is a woman, simply, hut because; 
she is the Queen. As the, latter she is con¬ 
tinually the pique of dissatisfied subjects 
and mortified ambition. But docs not the 
woman fool the blows struck at the Queen? 
Can she so far dissociate herself from her 
crown as to sit iu her splendid boudoir when 
queenly cares arc for a little put aside, ami, 
a happy, contented woman, muse upon her 
glory and be glad ? 
We cannot call to mind any Queen, out of 
the many who have wielded scepters, w hoso 
life was, in any true sense, a happy one. 
Human judgment may have erred, touching 
them; the liarrussiug cares they knew may 
have afforded sincere enjoyment; hut the 
possibility is not at all probable. With wide¬ 
spread domains to rule over, ami every glit¬ 
tering accessory to happiness, they yet dwelt 
without the real Woman’s Kingdom,—love, 
domestic peace and watch-care,—and were 
discontented, often positively wretched. She 
holds a surer good whose crown is a hus¬ 
band's reverence and whose subjects make 
up the family circle she binds together, than 
any to whom a uation cries “All hail!” 
-♦♦♦- 
SMALL WAISTS. 
Upon this subject we make the following 
extract from a lengthy article in a foreign 
paper: 
It is true enough that a small waist is an 
additional grace to a figure that is otherwise 
symmetrical and graceful. No one can de¬ 
ny this fact. But there is no greater blunder 
than for the “ cultivator ’’ to imagine that a 
small waist, which betrays its artificial 
origin, can be regarded by men with any¬ 
thing less than derision or compassion. Is it. 
wonder, or pity, or contempt that is the pre¬ 
dominant feeling when one observes a wasp- 
like body tapering down to an abnormally 
small w r aist, the waist unnaturally round, 
the dress obviously strained, the whole body 
apparently balanced so as to prevent the 
compressed figure from breaking in two 
halves? A more absurd spectacle it is im¬ 
possible to conceive; and it is one which 
suggests some other reflections, not very 
flattering to the owner of the insect waist. 
We presume that, girls make fools of them¬ 
selves in this way in order to convey to 
others the notion that they are peculiarly 
sylph-like and graceful. They wish to ap¬ 
pear in the eyes of their male admirers as 
light, ethereal, angelic creatures, who are 
scarcely subject to the vulgar necessities of 
hunger; Unfortunately, the impression con¬ 
veyed is exactly the reverse. The lover 
cannot look at his mistress’ eyes for thinking 
of her waist, and wondering how she can 
smile under her tightly-clasping burs of cane. 
In spite of himself he becomes an anatomist. 
He mentally dissects lifer. lie cannot help 
thinking of those plates in books of physiol¬ 
ogy, showing the position of the ribs anterior 
and posterior to the practice of tight lacing. 
While he ought, to be looking at her face, In¬ 
is, in imagination, contemplating licr lungs. 
When she sighs, it is not of her affection he 
lliinks; lie is considering the action of her 
diaphragm. It, is impossible for the tender- 
cst and most idealistic of lovers to discern 
the poetry of a mechanical waist. 
- +++- - 
MARRIAGE AND DIVORCE. 
It is getting quite common for married 
people to meet their affinities, get divorced 
and re-many. One would suppose that hap¬ 
piness, according to their estimate, would 
then be secured. It is not, however. There 
is a sort of legal outlawry about the pro¬ 
ceeding. There is no mutual respect where 
! I,bora are such antecedents. Such can never 
he true marriages, unless actual crime has 
caused the separation, and, even then, how 
infinitely bettor to have endured to 1 lie end. 
“ But my husband was a drunkard.” 
“ Was he a drunkard when you married 
him?” “No!” “Then what determined 
him to that course? Did you bear with 
him kindly and gently ? Did you patiently 
try to save him ?” “ Yes.” “ Then the 
curse was inherited. Cun you not hear with 
him as you would with a Imd or deformed 
child ? Yon may not be accountable to 
Heaven for his course, but you certainly arc 
for your own.” 
There is so much heroism in the world— 
men who go home to careless, reckless wives 
and ill-kept homes, and utter no word of 
reproach there, and carry no complaint to 
the world ; women who screen their hus¬ 
bands’ faults even from tluiir children, and 
hear a burden of neglect and care with saint¬ 
like; fortitude. They ask no divorce. They 
love on, and hope on, to the cud, and when 
God sets his seal on their foreheads we shall 
know what heroism their silent lives con¬ 
tained. 
REFORMATORY. 
The Lancet, in sneaking of the women of 
the period, whom it describes as a race of 
chlorotic girls, acting wives and inefficient 
mothers, says that the scrofulous, consump¬ 
tive, pimpled women who crowd physicians’ 
waiting-rooms and swallow every advertised 
remedy from Parr’s Pills to Pancreatic Emul¬ 
sion, would he strong, vigorous and healthy, 
and need no medicine at all, If they followed 
a few simple directions. These are; to al¬ 
low their own hair to be just hound down as 
a natural covering to their heads when out 
of doors; to clothe their bodies sensibly, 
without pinching themselves hideously into 
unnatural shapes; to wear well-shaped boots, 
In which 'hay might walk comfortably and 
taste; the pleasure of exercise. These seem 
sufficiently simple to commend themselves 
to all; but is it not asking too much of 
women to require them to abandon bonnets 
and chignons, or to wear large boots and 
woolen stockings, or to abandon the use of 
corsets ? 
OUR SPICE BOX. 
Why gentlemen attend the fairs—to see 
the fair. 
A writ of attachment—A marriage cer¬ 
tificate. 
To be seen for nothing—The play of the 
features. 
Appropriate song for the cool nights— 
“ Come in and shut the door.” 
When lovers quarrel, what presents made 
on either side are hot returned ? The kisses. 
Lovers, observe! Before a man enters 
the abode of matrimony he should ring the 
belle. 
A lady need not be particularly prim lie- 
cause she is a rose. There are other roses 
than prim roses. 
The editress of a Western journal apolo¬ 
gizes for the detention of her paper “be¬ 
cause of the late arrival of an extra male.” 
After all, there is not much difference 
between the followers and the opponents of 
Dr. Jenner. The ono are Vaccinators and 
the other are V accine-liaters. 
octal (fopice. 
HOMESICK. 
BY MARIE 8. LADD. 
'Tis idle to laud this river's flow, 
That babbles a weary song; 
I know of bright waters that come and go 
Aud murmur sweat music along. 
Ah! I dream of the river's rippling piny, 
Of the rocks nnd shining sand. 
And the graceful flowers that bend and sway 
In rny own dear native land. 
Bright flowers, I know, In the meadows throng, 
The springs uro pure aud clear. 
The rivers are wide, uml deep, and stroug, 
But my heart Is homesick here. 
Ah ! dearer to me the hawthorn row, 
Or the breath of the wild blush rose. 
Where the butterfly flouts In the dingle low, 
And the notched-leaf sweat-I'ern grows ; 
For there where the water drops pure as pearls, 
Or leaps into sparkling foam. 
And the faint gray smoke so gracefully curls. 
Oh, there is my native home! 
-- 
FARMERS WHO SEEK OFFICE. 
I5Y GEORGE W. BUNGAY. 
From ihe constable to the Member of 
Congress, there is a constant wrestle with 
parties to secure first a nomination, and 
then to make their election sure. Wo need 
men to fill the various offices of trust and 
honor at the disposal of the Government 
and of the people; but in nine cases out 
of ton, the men who think they need office, 
are not the men office needs,— the men who 
seek office arc not the men ollleo seoks. 
There are few places in the Post-Office, in 
the Custom House, in Ihe Navy-Yard, at tlu; 
National Capitol, that do not cost more than 
they are worth. Not. unfrequenlly they cost 
the sacrifice of a calling which insured a 
support, of habits that were exemplary, of 
character that was honorable, of health 
which was vigorous, of peace of mind which 
promised happiness nnd long life. Office, 
like the apple of Sodom, turned to ashes on 
their lips. That which had the lnilo of fame 
was the iynix-fatmis light of newspaper 
notoriety, culminating in merciless criticism 
and censure. 
The petty salary of an Assemblyman is 
scarcely sufficient to pay his hoard bill. 
When the unscrupulous lobbymun whispers 
of forbidden pleasures, avarice is apt to 
second the motion and say,—“ Your pay is 
insufficient; the stingy Stale owes you for 
honest service; no one will suffer by your 
acceptance of a present; you may as well 
have the game as the name of having it, 
and the latter you will he sure to have.” 
Unless a man lias a clean heart and stout 
resolution lie will yield to the tempter. The 
writer knows a man who was a deacon of a 
church and a leading light in the temper¬ 
ance reform, Ho accepted office, he accepted 
presents. He is no longer a deacon, no 
longer a temperance man ; but he has a 
bloated pocket and a bloated face. 
No political representative can possibly 
please all his constituents. He cannot vote 
consistently for every measure suggested by 
his friends, and when he returns he will find 
some prepared to honor him with suppers 
and serenades, renown and renominations, 
and some ready to give hint a leather medal, 
a livery of tar and feathers, and a free ticket 
for a sail up Salt River. What consolation 
can he derive from such manifestations of 
appreciation ? Will his wife and children 
he willing to have the personal and private 
history of the family raked over the coals ? 
Titles uml office cost a vast deal, and yet 
they arc not of lunch value. Who would 
not rather he king over a good farm than a 
public servant in the Legislature? Some 
one says it is better to be the head of a 
mouse than the tail of a lion; but he who 
can manage an estate and manage himself 
also, is a manly man,—kinglier than a king 
who cannot rule himself. It is a greater 
honor to raise good crops and good cattle, 
and make good butter nnd cheese, than to 
make bad laws. Mr. DANIEL Drew in 
Wall street is doing less for the welfare of 
mankind than his son whose empire is a 
splendid farm in Putnam county. Yet I do 
not disparage the former, nor under-value 
liis donations to aid education and religion. 
1 do not ask the farmers and oilier country 
people to decline office. Without the assis¬ 
tance of country legislators, we could not 
walk Broadway in safely in broad daylight. 
We need more farmers, and millers, and 
mechanics and manufacturers, in our State 
and in our National Legislatures; but we do 
not need the men, as a rule, who arc the 
most anxious to serve us. The love of office 
is one of our national vices. There Is a story 
told of an office-seeker who called on Gen¬ 
eral Jackson when ho was President, and 
asked him for a first-class foreign mission; 
there was no vacancy; he then asked for a 
second-rate appointment—no vacancy; for a 
consulship—no place for him; for a Custom 
House or Post-Office appointment—no place 
for him ; and he finally wound up the inter¬ 
views with a request for a pair of the Presi¬ 
dent’s cast-off breeches. Half the political 
hacks who importune the people and the 
Government for office have few, if any, of 
the acquirements or qualifications needed for 
the places they seek to fill—hence we find on 
every hand tomtits and sparrows in our 
eagle nests. 
In order to get an office, we find the busy 
office - seekers packing caucuses, forcing 
themselves into nominating conventions, and 
suggesting that they are the best men for the 
places, and the only men who can be elected, 
and hinting indirectly that unless they get 
the favors tbqy ask for they will go to the 
opposite party, and, like Lucifer falling 
from heaven, take two-thirds of their friends 
with them. Coarse and uneducated, as many, 
of the mere politicians are, they know enough 
of human nature to call every man by his 
title about election time. They take the 
stump,and in ungrammatical speech promise 
to reduce taxation—to increase the price of 
produce, and to provide a place for every 
tenth constituent. Even good men who ex¬ 
pose their consciences to such fearful wear 
and tear, will soon find themselves growing 
gross while seeking office. The heart once 
soft and impressible, becomes bard as ada¬ 
mant, and the man who was spiritual be¬ 
comes worldly, careless, reckless. 
Let us have farmers in our Legislative 
halls; but let them be men so honest, intel¬ 
ligent and resolute that no scoundrel dare 
approach them with a bribe. Give us farm¬ 
ers to represent, farming constituencies; hut 
select men whose past life is a guarantee of 
future fidelity. It. is an honor to represent, 
an intelligent people faithfully. As Leoni¬ 
das and his hand held the mountain pass, we 
ask our country legislators to hold the gate¬ 
way of our advancing civilization, not to 
hinder progress, but to prevent the raid of 
robbers. And the inarch of peace shall be 
as harmonious as the rhythm of a river, 
while our heroes are crystalized into statu 
osque distinctness above the ashes of forgot¬ 
ten demagogues who misrepresented the 
people in high places of trust. 
■-♦♦♦-- 
SCOLDING NEVER DOES GOOD. 
Tins is my text, of four words. In the 
family, in schools, in the pulpit, in the news¬ 
paper, scolding is an evil only, doing no 
good, but much harm,— evil to the scolder 
and to the scolded. It is a nuisance that 
ought not only to he abated, but abolished, 
plucked up by the roots, and driven out of 
every house and home, and consigned, with 
all other offsprings of total depravity, to 
outer darkness and destruction. It. is the 
worst, possible mode that can lie adopted to 
improve the habits of children, and no parent 
who indulges in it ever lias the satisfaction 
of knowing that scolding benefits. It irri¬ 
tates the objects at the very moment when 
their hearts and minds should bo conciliated 
towards good resolutions to amend. It sets 
them up in opposition to the wishes of their 
parents, and fills them with aversion. 
There is no sense in scolding. It is a weak¬ 
ness and a folly, as well as a sin, to fret and 
scold at children to make them good. Tt, is 
labor in vain,—yea, infinitely worse than 
that. It is just as absurd and foolish in the 
school-room as in the family household. A 
scolding teacher ought not to ho allowed in 
the school-room. The same qualities are 
needed in the 9 ehool-rnorn as in the family 
household, to govern and improve the young. 
Every well ordered household or school 
has its fixed rules, and to these rules (if 
violated,) penalties arc essential. 
In a well governed household or school¬ 
room, correction is inevitable upon trans¬ 
gression, but should be. administered in a 
spirit of meekness, kindness, gentleness and 
regret; that, tells more powerfully than 
blows and scoldings. “ Whip me, father, but 
don’t cry,” was the heart-burst of a hoy who 
loved the parent about to punish him for his 
fault. Correct or punish the child who does 
wrong; but do not scold hint. 
Amber, N. Y. Aunt Lucia. 
-♦♦♦- 
PERSEVERANCE. 
Perseverance is a virtue much talked of, 
but little appreciated. What might he ac¬ 
complished in the menial and moral world, 
as well as in the material one, if people 
would only put perseverance to the helm ? 
Who is there who has not felt this in Ins or 
her experience? 
IIow many times when we are all alive to 
the beauty of good deeds, we yearn to per¬ 
form them, we resolve that hereafter we will 
he more vigilant, more faithful in the per¬ 
formance of our duties; but the glow of our 
feelings dies out, because the little virtue 
above mentioned is not practised, and we 
full back into our old way of acting on the 
impulse of the i.oment, and not according to 
our highest conviction of right. 
How often we fed the ability to perform 
something with the talents given us, and we 
promise ourselves 'hat we will rouse and try 
to make the most of our gifts! But the en¬ 
thusiasm passes, and lack of time or energy 
prevents our carrying out our plans, and 
when we next review ourselves we fed un¬ 
mixed regret at our luck of perseverance. 
B. C. D. 
SUtbbufi) U cubing. 
SHADOWS. 
BY FRANCKS E. KINGSLEY. 
A field of grain, breeze-freshened. 
Waved in the morning suu,— 
A sea of mottled bounty, 
1 loved to took upon. 
A cloud the fluid o'ershndowed, 
Dark grow Its waving gold, 
The fdi.'idu the passing broozo made 
I cured less to behold. 
I thought how like oiu- lietng 
To this while passing by; 
For light and dark alternate. 
Through sunshine shadows fly. 
The sunshine Is (ion's favor, 
The shadow is our sin; 
On it our gaze we fasten. 
Can suiislitue enter iu ? 
The breeze that moves the grain field 
Is grief sent from above; 
May we so bow to Tils will. 
And thank Him for liis love. 
OUR LITTLENESS. 
In the midst of our manifold doing, and 
exultant over the successes wo gain, we 
are prone to self glorification. Nor is this 
strange. It becomes a man to think well of 
himself. It is fit that he should take some 
pride in the things he accomplishes. Unless 
ho docs this, lie will very likely lose all 
heart in his work, and, thoroughly discour¬ 
aged, will fall away into idleness and in¬ 
anition. 
But when wc come to [nit, ourselves and 
our accomplishments first and foremost in 
our thought continually,-—wlicn we are un¬ 
duly uplifted in the belief that our power is 
mighty and our doing irresistible,-—then are 
we in most positive danger. Then should 
wo pause and measure ourselves by? a truer 
measurement than the little successes wo so 
much magnify. Then should wo go out 
somewhere amid God's marvelous works, 
and sec how in comparison our own doings 
dwindle into insignificance. 
Human greatness is a little thing, at the 
best. Exalt it. as we may, if we judge it as it 
ought to bo judged it seems of small import¬ 
ance. It is pleasant to think of—some deed 
done that wins a world’s applause and the 
nations’ honor; but what avails It, after all? 
Does it render ns any the less creatures of 
mortality and victims of the grave? Will 
it help us to make light against Time and 
defy his ravages ? Sad indeed is it for the 
man who can stand out under the stars, or 
pace the vessel’s deck alone in mid-ocean, 
or look up at stupendous mountain-piles, 
and glorify himself in his own heart. Sad, 
because some time there will come such a 
sense of individual littleness into liis soul as 
shall well-nigh crush him. Sad, because in 
his mistaken ness, he will walk on in his 
feeble strength and at length fall hopelessly. 
Bad again, and doubly so, because trusting 
in himself so implicitly lie will miss the truer 
strength which trust in divine Greatness will 
surely bring, and at the last in his weakness 
and littleness will bewail his foolishness with 
howailings all the more touching for being 
futile. 
-v-*-*- 
FEAR OF JUDGMENT. 
Jerome used to say that it scorned to him 
as if the trumpet of the last day was always 
sounding in his ear, saying, “Arise ye dead 
and come to judgment.” The generality, 
however, think but little of this awful and 
important period. A Christian king of Hun¬ 
gary being very sad and pensive, his brother, 
who was a gay courtier, was desirous of 
knowing the cause of his sadness. “ Oh, 
brother,” said the king, “ Iliavebeen a great 
sinner against God, and I know not how 
to (lie, or how to appear before Him in 
judgment.” 
His brother, making a jest of it, said, 
“ These are but melancholy thoughts.” The 
king made no reply, but it was the custom 
of the country, that if the executioner waste 
sound the trumpet before any man’s door, he 
was presently led to execution. The king, 
in the dead hour of the night, sent the exe¬ 
cutioner to sound tlie trumpet before his 
brother’s door, who, hearing it anil seeing 
the messenger of death, sprang into the king’s 
presence, beseeching to know in what he had 
offended. “Alas! brother,” said the king, 
“ you have never offended me. And is lint 
sight of nty execui inner so dreadful, and shall 
not I, who have greatly offended, fear to be 
brought before the judgment scat of Christ?” 
--- 
IIow much all our divisions and disputes 
arise out of our unfaithfulness to Christ? 
Each one seems anxious to justify his own 
little selfish reserve from the Lord, rather 
than to seek to he helped to employ his whole 
body, soul, and spirit in his most worthy and 
loving service. 
- +++ - 
Bickersteth states, upon careful ox-ami 
nation, that at least one verse in thirty of 
the New Testament points onward to the 
resurrection life. 
. -("»■> __ _ 
7 * 
