OUR BABY. 
BY MBS. Q. H. 0. 
IN his little bed, all cosy, 
Sweetly sleeps our baby boy— 
Cheeks so plump, and round and rosy. 
Marked with dimples sly and eoy: 
And his ores have caught their luster 
From the softest summer sky; 
See! he's smiling at the whisper 
Of some angel passing by. 
Two little hands In quiet rest, 
Like folded rose leaves sweet and fair, 
Upon the tender waxen breast, 
That knows no thought of sin nor caro. 
lie in his baby beauty rests. 
Unconscious of the grief and wrong. 
That makes life troubled, and unblest. 
And robs It of Its sweetest soug. 
A damask rose bud kissed his lip. 
And left Its impress there— 
The tiny pearls behind, outstrip 
The gems Of ladies fair. 
Ills curling hair, like tine spun gold. 
Bests on a sinless brow— 
Son keep him through the years to come 
As pure as he is now! 
THE MATRIMONIAL MANIA. 
A Few “ Illustrious Examples.” 
Newspaper people are often asked iF the 
letters, inquiries, etc., that appear in print 
are genuine; and especially tllose character¬ 
ized by remarkable silliness. The answer 
given is invariably “ Yes,—and only a very 
small portion of the ‘silly’ letters ever are. 
noticed, farther than to toss them into the 
■waste basket,” or something equivalent. 
Before me are two letters from young men, 
who write from Pennsylvania. The first 
one has the merit of brevity, and it is given 
entire : 
** What would you do if you were in my place? 
Would you rather marry a rich girl with no 
health, or one with good health In moderate cir- 
cumstanoos? Both are good housekeepers and 
handsome.” 
If “ I were in your place,” 1 think I would 
jump head first down a well. As to the girl 
with “ no health,” and the one with "good 
health,” it is undoubtedly a waste of time for 
yon to attempt to decide, or desire a decision, 
as it is not at all probable that either would 
marry you, upon any condition whatever. 
If you will only follow my advice, the World 
will undoubtedly “ be the better for it.” 
Tlte next letter reads as follows: 
“I wondeer if Some of your manny Rural 
remleors could give mo a little information on a 
vary Important question, Miul or getting Mar¬ 
ried. I aui 83 years of ago have scon considerable 
o£ tbt> wourlU. Hot cannot think of making my 
homo aimy where except In my native state, 
Poniin, I lima Farmer and what I lie world might 
cull a well to do young man. Homo what inclined 
to rove not fueling contented in my own good 
home. 
Now, I wish to settle down but it is hard for a 
single man (o settle down unless ho gels himscir 
a wife. I have quite a liitloainn of mono v saved. 
Know will some of the many ltuitAi, readers, 
of which 1 am one give me the desired Infor¬ 
mation?” 
The beat ready advice oue feels inclined 
to give him is, to study the spelling hook, to 
begin with; secondly, to measure himself 
honestly with the first man of fair intelli¬ 
gence and observation he meets, in order to 
appreciate the depth, of his own conceit 
and the extraordinary range of his own 
ignorance. 
Alas, that these young men are nof excep¬ 
tional specimens I There are hundreds of 
others like them in every State in the Union. 
Every neighborhood has its representative. 
If all of them do not ■ :iant advice” on the 
“ vary important question of getting mar¬ 
ried,” they all need it, and i propose to give 
them some. 
I read that the aim and end of man is to 
“ glorify God and enjoy him forever.” How 
to do this best should constitute the business 
of life; and I hold that anything this side 
of honor , tends in nowise toward the glory 
of God. Moreover, I hold that whatever 
best developes us, or developes the best 
within us, tends to the glory of God, and 
rice versa. 
It is commonly supposed and accepted 
that marriage assists the best development 
of men—that a man is not ready to “ settle 
down,” nor prepared for the work of life 
until he is married; all of which is true in 
a general sense. With the exceptional cases 
I have nothing to do at this time. 
But the way in which the majority of 
men marry, is nothing short of a burlesque 
upon the “ sacred institution.” They set about 
looking for a wife as they would/or a horse. 
They make an inventory of her "good 
points, ascertain the quickness of her move¬ 
ments, tlte state of her digestion, her capaci¬ 
ty for economy, the yielding quality of her 
disposition; if she "suits” they propose 
paitnersljip,aml women are such*- fools _ 
fools from the force of circumstance and cus¬ 
tom, as to say "yes,” when with all the 
thunder m their souls, they should say “no.” 
uc i offers of marriage are insults to the 
Trace toT l ° leCfliVe lhena * :i «»»rae and dis¬ 
grace to the men who make them, and rank 
dishonor to the Lord who created them 
riieie w nothing in the moral, spiritual 
or physical universe that makes marriage 
respectable, but. Love. Without it, there 
can be no marriage - only a wretched, 
miserable form that rapidly degenerates into 
a loathsome, demoralizing burden The 
time to marry is when Love demands it, 
needs it; and not .simply because the kitchen 
needs a cook, the dining table a figure-head 
in muslin or silk, or the cucumber vines 
somebody to kill tho bugs on them. Whom 
to marry, is the woman you love, and no 
other one. That, and that alone, should de¬ 
cide. Riches may take wings and tleo 
away; beauty may fade; good health is a 
very excellent, and desirable thing in man 
or woman, but the circumstance of an hour 
or a moment may ruin the best. A man 
who marries from " monied considerations,” 
usually gets what he deserves — its full 
equivalent in dissatisfaction and unhappi¬ 
ness. It demoralizes him by confining and 
belittleing his manhood. A man who mar¬ 
ries for beauty, learns, as no other man can 
learn, how hideous and loathsome it. may 
become. Finally, it is an ascertained fact, 
I believe, that a woman may be a most, ac¬ 
complished housekeeper, and at the same 
time be an abomination—a most destructive 
foe to peace of mind or Christian serenity. 
So, “my dear young men,” as the preachers 
say, take Love for your guidance in this 
matter, remembering that it demands the 
best and noblest in you—that it is sacred and 
holy, aye, and divine, for it is of God. 
Mary A. E. YVageu. 
MARRIAGE. 
Marriage —says Jeremy Taylor—has in 
it less of beauty, but more safety than single 
life; it has not more ease, but less danger; 
it is more merry and more sad ; it. is fuller of 
sorrows and fuller of joys; it lies under more 
burdens, it is supported by all the strength 
of love and charity, and those burdens are 
delightful. Marriage is the mother of the 
world, and preserves kingdoms, and fills 
cities and churches and heaven itself. Celi¬ 
bacy, like the fly in the heart of an apple, 
dwells in perpetual sweetness, hut sits alone, 
and is confined and dies in singularity; hut 
marriage, like the useful bee, builds a house 
anti gathers sweetness from every flower, 
and labors and unites Into societies and re¬ 
publics and sends out colonies; and feeds 
the world with delicacies, and obeys their 
king, and keeps order, and exercises many 
virtues, and promotes the interest of man¬ 
kind, and is that, state of good to which God 
hath designed the present constitution of the 
world. 
4 » »- 
HARMONY OF COLORS. 
Many ladies with a small fortune lavished 
on their dress, look dowdy and gawky, 
while olhers, with only a scanty purse to 
full back upon, outshine them in every par¬ 
ticular, because the harmony of colors was 
studied in the latter case and disregarded in 
the former. Women should study, individ¬ 
ually, the colors that are most becoming to 
them. The real secret of success in dress is 
to wear only those colors which harmonize 
with the hair, eyes, complexion and general 
appearance. It is not so much the style or 
texture of a garment as the colors. If only 
our American ladies would he more inde¬ 
pendent, and select for themselves whatever 
is most becoming, without regard for what 
is worn abroad, they would soon establish 
for themselves a reputation for taste in dress, 
which can never he attained by blindly fol¬ 
lowing the fashion set for them by the dames 
of the Continent. 
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL. 
The most beautiful girl in the United 
States (says The World) lives near Lincoln, 
Ill. Iler hair is of that peculiar hue that a 
field of ripe wheat throws toward the setting 
sun. Her eyes send forth a light so effulgent 
and magnetic that strangers become spell¬ 
bound under its influence and stand rudely 
gazing. Her checks bear a bloom like the 
sunny side of an early peach. A pearl would 
seem almost black beside her teeth. Her 
form is so graceful that men worship her be¬ 
fore seeing her face. Her hands suggest the 
idea of waxen fingers tipped with vermilion. 
Her smile seems actually to illuminate her 
presence, and when she laughs the listener 
fancies he hears sweet music In the distance. 
Den«l in Love* 
Nay, but you, who do not love her,’ 
In she not pure gold, my mistress ? 
Holds earth aught, spouk truth—above her? 
Aught like this tress, see. and tills tress, 
And this last fairest tress of all, 
So fair, see, ere I let it fall! 
Because you spend your lives in praising; 
To praise, you search the wide world over; 
So, why not witness, calmly gazing, 
If earth holds aught- speak truth—above her? 
Above this tress, and this, I touch, 
But cannot praise, I love so much. 
[Robert Browning. 
Marriage is to a woman at once the hap¬ 
piest and saddest event of her life; it is the 
promise of future bliss raised on the death of 
all present enjoyment. 
Mrs. W. C. Johnson is lecturing in Indi¬ 
ana, on “Man in the Raw.” This is Mrs. 
Johnson’s quaint way of speaking of good 
men; for it is the good men who are rare. 
A fair woman is the most beautiful of 
house ornaments. 
“GRA’MA ALAS DOES.” 
I wants to mend my wagon. 
And lias to have some nails; 
Jus’ two, free will he plenty, 
We’re going to haul our rails. 
The splendidest cob fences, 
Wo’re mailin' over was! 
I wis' you’d help us And ’em, 
Gran'ma al'aa does. 
My horse's name 1» Betsey; 
She Jumped and broke her head, 
I put her in the stublo, 
And led her milk and bread. 
The stable’s in the parlor; 
We didn't, multi! a muss. 
I wis' ynuM let It stay there, 
Grnn’jna al'as does. 
I’s goin' to the cornfield, 
To ride oil Charlie's plow: 
I spec he'd like to have me; 
I wants to go right now. 
Oh, won’t 1 gee up awful, 
And whoa like Charlie whoas? 
I wis' you wouldn’t bozzer; 
Grau’ma never does. 
I wants some bread and butter; 
I’s hungry worstest kind : 
But Taddle mustn’t have none, 
Cause she wouldn’t mind. 
Put plenty sugar on it; 
I toll you what, I knows 
It’s right to put on sugar; 
Gran’mu al’as does. I 
[A. JET. Poe. 
candy, became her most frequent visitor. 
But all thus while Lanny was rather shy 
However, last Valentine’s Day lie thought he 
would send Minnie a valentine. So he 
bought the prettiest one lie could find. It 
had a lovely wreath of flowers all around 
the edge, and a verse of poetry, and on the 
outside was a pink rose with a tiny bud. 
Lanny took a sheet of paper and wrote 
Minnie’s name oyer and over, trying to 
write it, nicely. Then he wrote it on the 
Valentine, anti then he sealed it up, — but 
somehow or other he had not courage to 
send it. So he went out., whistling " Sho 
Fly,” with his hands in his pockets. Then 
he found it was school time; so off lie went, 
telling Carlo to stay at home. 
Caui.o laid down on the door step and 
winked himself into a little nap; hut after a 
while, strolling round the house, he espied 
the Valentine, which Lanny had left lying 
on a chair. I hardly think Carlo could 
read writing, and this was the strange part 
of it; lie took up that Valentine, and trotted 
with it, in his teeth, to Minnie Sanford’s 
home. 
Afterward, when Lanny had managed to 
overcome his timidity, Minnie told him that 
she had always supposed he had sent the 
Valentine, and only made a postman of 
Carlo, o. s. f. 
OARLO T HE P OSTMAN. A GOOD ANSWER. 
TnERK never was a dog that knew so “ Sir,” said a lad coming down a wharf 
much as Carlo. Carlo Parker he was in Boston, and addressing a well known 
CARLO CARRYING THE 
generally called, because ho belonged to 
Lanny Parker. Mrs. Parker used to say 
it she had any secrets she “should never 
dare speak of them before Carlo. It was 
true he could not repeat them, but then he 
looked so knowing.” 
Carlo was generous to a fault—that is, lie 
had a way of taking things that did not be¬ 
long to him, aud giving them round to the 
neighbors. If any one spoke kindly to him, 
or gave him a hit of meat or a sweet cuke, 
Carlo would trot off home and get one of 
Lanny’s slices, perhaps, and carry it buck as 
a present. Carlo always received many 
thanks for his generosity, and then was 
directed to carry the gift home again, which 
he did with the air of oue who has done the 
very handsome tiling, 
Lanny was about fourteen years old at 
this time, and all at once lie began to be very 
particular to brush his hair nicely, and keep 
his hands and his finger nails quite clean. 
And this, I have a strong suspicion, was be¬ 
cause there bad lately come to the school a 
young girl, with long, golden curls and blue 
eyes. Lanny had hardly ever spokcn.to her; 
indeed, I am sure if he had seen her coming 
down the village street, he would have run 
across to the other side, or else round the 
corner. But Carlo had no idea of doing 
so; he always ran right up to Minnie San¬ 
ford, and never minded in the least if he 
left the marks of his muddy paws upon her 
dress. 
Minnie always had a caress and a great 
many affectionate words for Carlo— and 
often, down in a corner of her pocket, she 
found a few sugar plums, which were ex¬ 
actly to his taste. Very soon indeed Carlo, 
attracted by Minnie’s kind words and sweet 
VALENTINE TO MINNIE. 
merchant, “ have you any berth for me on 
your ship? 1 want to earn something.” 
“What, can you do?” asked the gentleman. 
“ I can try my beat to do whatever 1 am 
put to,” answered the hoy. 
“ What have you done?” 
“ l have sawed and split all mother’s wood 
for nigh two years." 
“ What have you not done,” asked the 
gentleman, which was a queer sort of a 
question. 
“ Well, sir,” said the hoy, after a moment’s 
pause, " I have not whispered ouce in school 
for a whole year.” * 
“ That’s enough,” said the gentleman, 
“ you may ship aboard this vessel, and I 
hope to see you master of her some day. A 
boy that can master a wood pile and bridle 
his tongue must be made of good stuff.”— 
Selected. 
BOYS, DO YOU HEAR THAT? 
A. New Orleans paper tells of a printer 
who, when his fellow workmen went out to 
drink beer, during the working hours, put 
in the hank the exact amount which lie 
would have spent if lie had gone out to 
drink. He kept to this resolution for five 
years. He then examined his hank account 
and found that he had on deposit $521.86. 
In the five vonrs he had not lost a day from 
ill health. Three out of five of his fellow 
workmen hail, in the meantime, become 
drunkards, were worthless ns workmen, and 
were discharged. The water drinker then 
bought out the printing office, went on en¬ 
larging his business, and in. twenty years 
from the time he began to put by his money 
was worth $100,000. The story, whether 
new or old, teaches a lesson which every 
boy and young man should Jay to heart. 
Sabbat^ 1 cubing. 
a <W 
LIFE’S TRUE AIM. 
TO GEORGE WILLOUGHBY.—BY ItEV. T. N. B.* 
You are standing, while tha morning brightens to a 
ruddy glow. 
At the crossing in life’s pathway, knowing not which 
way to go; 
Up the mountain steep and rugged winds the path 
that leads to fume,— 
On its summit in the distance you can see a noblo 
name; 
And a glittering crown of honor .1 nstloe holds toward 
you now, - 
11 you galu the top In safety, sho will place it on your 
brow. 
Oh ! her kindly smile brings courage to your proudly 
beating heart; 
Pauso and let mo whisper, brother, u low warning 
e’er you start. 
I would tell you that the jewels In that glittering 
crown of light 
Crumble into dustuud ashes when they feel the breath 
Of night; 
That the name which Justice gives you, if ’tis won In 
gaining fame, 
Like the jewols also l’adeth, there is nothiug in a 
name. 
For ticroaa the mystic river every deed is plainly seon, 
Nothing In that land of sunlight can bo bidden by a 
screen. 
Where, then, Is the fruit of tolling up the rugged 
mountain side, 
Since the labor counts as nothing when we cross the 
river wide? 
Now your eyes are slowly turning to the path that 
leads away 
From the crown that Justice ofl'ers ; ’tis where weary 
waml'rers stray, 
And It leads In lowly places; oh ! the clouds arc thick 
and dark 
Round your foot, but just above them gulden beams 
the passage rntiik, 
And it leads among tbo briars, and the weary pain of 
night,— 
Yet the way Is ever open, guided by the gleams so 
bright. 
You can reach unharmed the river rolling rapidly 
along,— 
If you listen In your Journey you can hour Us 
whisp'ring song. 
Yes, my brother, in this pathway there are weary 
hearts to cheer; 
Fear not! strength to all is given, for the angels 
hover near, 
And with white hands they are pointing to that 
bright and blissful shore. 
Where across death ’m rapid river wo will sorrow never 
more. 
There arc many fallen brothers who liavo lost Hie 
opon way; 
’.Mong the thorny paths of m.r.’ry the misguided 
Waml’rers stray. 
From the dungeon and tho gallows, and the crowded 
city streets— 
From the hand of cruel tyrar.t us with lash his slavo 
he greets: 
From the spell of that dark tempter, who with sweet, 
enticing call, 
Crushes hearts so pure and guileless, as they see 
their Idols fall. 
You can guide the weary waml’rers, you can point 
the blessed light, 
Help to lieul ilia wounds of nations and to guide the 
soul aright. 
You cun trend the path of honor, though ’tis not the 
path of fame, 
And among the bUmsod angels you will find a noblo 
name. 
Oh! it Ih a glorious mission ! When the race of life 
is run, 
You will tlrnl n crown awaiting bearing words,-‘"Tis 
nobly won.” 
Thero nro little deeds of kindness, words of gentle¬ 
ness and lovp, 
Which on earth are scarcely noticed, yet arc written 
down ubovu; 
By the bedside of tho dying thero Is oft a place (o 
stand, 
Speaking words of hope and comfort us you hold iho 
the stllfnlng hand. 
’Tis a work that Oiikw has given, nobler far than 
wealth or fame, 
And its fruits can never perish like the glory of a 
name. 
When we meet to part, no never, all these treasures 
we shall see— 
O’er the bright "Ethereal Ocean” home uwatteth 
you and me. 
Bowling Green, Ohio, Jan., 1871. 
+ In reply to a poem which appeared In the Rural 
Nkw-Yohker of Dec. 10,1870,entitled ” The Ethereal 
Sea,” written by George WILLOUGHBY uml dedica¬ 
ted to Rev. T. N. B. 
A STRING OF PEARLS. 
After tho storm, the rainbow comes, 
After disease, a glow of health. 
So after life, though poor and weak, 
The good will earn eternal wealth. 
Every day is a lilllu life, and our whole 
life is but a day repeated. 
Let the object of love be careful to lose 
none of Us loveliness. 
Tiie rays of happiness, like those of light, 
are colorless when broken. 
The character of the soul is determined 
by the character of its God. 
Little trials, when improved, become 
great mercies. 
We are always looking into the future, 
but we see only the past. 
Let every minister, while he is preaching, 
remember that God is one of his hearers. 
Death ejects the Christian from a decay¬ 
ing collage, and carries him to an eternal 
palace. 
He wants the best taste and best sense a 
man can have who is cold to tho beauty of 
holiness. 
A good conscience is the best looking- 
glass of heaven ; in which the soul may see 
God’s thoughts aud purposes concerning it 
reflected as so many shining stars. 
Every end of religion requires that man 
should be brought face to face and heart to 
heart witli a loviug God. For it is this di¬ 
vine heart-power that is our whole hope. 
