xVm' iort-jolia. 
THAT BABY OVER THE WAY. 
A8 I’ve *ftt »t tny chamber window, 
I’ve noticed, attain and a«aln. 
The sweetest of baby figures. 
At the opposite wfndow pane; 
Rosy cheeks daintily dimpled, 
Curls that, without any check. 
Tumble and twist in confusion. 
With the corals about Its neck. 
Eyes—but to mention the color 
I must wait for a nearer view, 
Though l think I may state, at a venture. 
They’ll match with the ribbons of blue. 
Feet with their tiny bronzed slippers. 
And the dearost of wee chubby lists. 
And arms, In whose foldings of fatness, 
You must search for the little one’s wrists. 
Sometimes 1 throw kisses to baby. 
And back come the kisses to me. 
And the Intricate game of " bo-peep” 
13 a source of infinite glee, 
That lights up the smiles and the dimples; 
So, I think, we may truth fully say, 
That 1 have an established flirtation 
With tbo baby jixst over the way. 
But how has that little one stolen 
A march on my foolish old heart ? 
And why, as I watch those bright eyes. 
Will the quick tear instinctively start? 
Ah ! because In the long ago years. 
Ere time mingled ms tresses with gray, 
I, too, hud a baby as lovely 
As the ltttlc one over the way. 
From the white robe and clustering ringlets. 
From that vision of Infantine Joy, 
Oh sadly, bo sadly 1 turn me 
To all I have left of my boy ; 
To the baby-clothes, yellow with age, 
To the the curl that once lay on his brow, 
To the old-fushioued cradle—the nest— 
So drearily tcnantless now. 
The first grief cornea back to me then. 
The longing that cannot be told. 
For the sight, of the doar little faoe, 
For my own darling baby to hold; 
And my arms ueho with emptiness so 
That I feel I am hardly content 
To wait for the summons to go 
The way that my little one went. 
And so. for the sake of the Joy 
That long ago gladdened uiy heart, 
For the light that once shone on my way. 
So quickly, alas : to depart; 
For the love that I bore my-onc darling, 
All babies are dearer to-day; 
And I think I must call on the mother 
Of that baby over the way. 
WOMEN AS DOCTORS. 
Gallileo was right; the world does move. 
In no respect is this fact more clearly proven 
than in relation to Woman as a candidate 
for medical degrees. Right iu the face of 
individual successes—lady physicians with 
large and increasing practice,—a class, in¬ 
deed the majority, of people have repeatedly 
asserted that women could not properly treat 
disease—that they were physically and men¬ 
tally disqualified for the work. Naturally 
enough, the medical profession in general 
has cried out against admitting women to its 
advantages, and in most cases the clamor 
ha3 been heeded. 
But a change is being slowly wrought out. 
Here in our own country several medical 
institutions have opened their doors to wo¬ 
men. The courtesy has been conceded un¬ 
der protest, to bo sure, and, as in the late 
disgraceful clinical scenes in Philadelphia, 
has not redounded wholly to the regular pro¬ 
fession’s credit; yet the concession has been 
made, and Its influence must remain and 
spread. Abroad, progress has been even 
more marked, because witnessed amid con¬ 
servatism of the most conservative stamp. 
At the Faculty of Medicine at'Paris three 
ladies,—one French, one Russian, and one 
American, — not long since passed tlieic 
examinations—right brilliantly, too, report 
says. 
More recently a signal triumph was won 
at Edinburgh University, the Medical De¬ 
partment of which institution is not sur¬ 
passed in all Europe. The University Court 
passed resolutions in favor of organizing 
medical classes for ladies, and at a meeting 
of the University’s General Council, or su¬ 
preme governing power, one Dr. Piiin, of 
the ohl-school illiberals, moved to set the 
audacious proposition aside. It was an¬ 
swered by the progressionists that if the 
medical profession was unsuited for women, 
they themselves would soon find out that 
fact, and would keep away from the dissect¬ 
ing rooms; with the adroit addenda that, if 
women who devote their lives to the treat¬ 
ment of disease go out of their sphere, heavy 
censure must fall on the head of Miss Night¬ 
ingale and the Sisters of Mercy who have 
undertaken the most forbidding part of the 
task. 
The progressionists reasoned farther that 
practical men, even if unmoved by such con¬ 
siderations, canuot be blind to the fact that, 
by hook or by crook, women are determined 
to acquire medical knowledge; that,almost 
by stealth, and through enormous persever¬ 
ance, several English ladies have already fit¬ 
ted themselves for the treatment of disease; 
and that we have to choose between a sys¬ 
tem which must render the education of 
such students comparatively imperfect, and 
„ a system which shall make it complete. “ If, 
therefore,” said they, “ we are to have female 
doctors, let us have good ones.” 
In the force of this Dr. Phln’s proposition 
could not stand its ground, we are glad to 
say, and as a consequence women are lience- 
I forth to enjoy as freely as men those oppor¬ 
tunities for acquiring practical knowledge 
which are oflered iu the Edinburgh dissect¬ 
ing rooms. And why should they not? As 
the medical adviser of her sex woman 
should, by virtue of her sexship, be far su¬ 
perior to* man. There are arguments num¬ 
erous and weighty going to prove that as a 
practitioner she is almost infinitely more fit 
to be employed by all her kind lhan the 
male physician. Moral reasons, the which 
we have not now lime or space to speak of 
particularly, but which will readily occur to 
the reader, are of sufficient strength, if ade¬ 
quately regarded, to limit man’s practice in 
nearly all cases to males entirely. Let the 
prejudice against women doctors, then, be 
blotted out; and let one of the good things 
of the near future be what some distant day 
will surely witness—medical practitioners 
among womankind of womankind, for there¬ 
by will the sex bs profited. 
■-- 
TWO CURIOUS NEEDLES. 
The King of Prussia recently visited a 
needle manufactory in his kingdom, in order 
to see -wliat machinery, combined with the 
human hand, could produce. He was shown 
a number of superfine needles, thousands of 
which, together, did not weigh half an 
ounce, and marveled how such minute ob¬ 
jects could be pierced with an eye. But he 
was to see that in this respect even some¬ 
thing still finer and more perfect could lie 
created. The borer—that is, the workman 
whose business it is to bore the eyes in these 
needles—asked for a hair from the monarch’s 
head. It was readily given, and with a 
smile. He placed it under the boring ma¬ 
chine. made a hole in it with the greatest, 
care, furnished it with a thread, and then 
handed the singular needle to the astonished 
king. 
The second curious needle is in the pos¬ 
session of Queen Victoria. It was made at 
the celebrated needle manufactory at Rcd- 
ditcli, and represents the column of Trajan 
in miniature. This well - known Roman 
column is adorned with numerous scenes in 
sculpture, which immortalize Trajan’s heroic, 
actions in war. On this diminutive needle, 
scenes in the life of Queen Victoria are rep¬ 
resented in relief, but so finely cut and so 
• small that it requires a magnifying glass to 
see them. The Victoria needle can, more¬ 
over, be opened; it contains a number of 
■ needles of smaller size, which are equally 
adorned with scenes in relief. 
locial (Topics. 
GRATITUDE. 
If a pilgrim has been shadowed 
By u tree that I Uhto nursed; 
If a enp of clear, cold water 
I have raised to Ups athirst; 
If I’ve planted one swoct flower 
By an else too barren way; 
If I’ve whispered In the midnight 
One sweet word to tell of day ; 
If In one poor blooding bosom 
1 a woe-swept chord have stilled; 
If a dark and restless spirit 
1 with hope of heaven have filled; 
If I‘ve made for life’s bard battle 
One faint heart grow brave and strong. 
Then, my God, I thank Thee, bless Tbee, 
For the precious gift of song! 
-<»»■»- 
‘MYSTERIOUS PROVIDENCES.’ 
THE TARA BROOCH. 
A child playing near Drogheda, Ireland, 
found a curious piece of metal and gave it 
up to an old woman; she took it to a dealer 
in old iron and marine stores, who allowed a 
shilling for her “ find.” Examining a little 
more closely, he suspected he had a prize; 
wonderful workmanship showed itself, and 
he was shrewd enough to think that though 
the metal was not gold or silver, the work 
was something uncommon. Accordingly he 
raised its price, and at length parted with it 
for ,£2 10s, The time came when £300 were 
offered for it by a public museum, and £500 
by a private collector. 
It was the celebrated “Tara” brooch, one 
of the most remarkable pieces of goldsmith’s 
work known to exist. It is formed of white 
bronze—this probably saved it from the 
melting pot to which countless treasures of 
gold and silver have been consigned—the 
surface overlaid with gold filligree work of 
surprising intricacy and marvellous delicacy 
of execution. Such is its excellence, that 
one of the most accomplished living gold¬ 
smiths declared that ho could not find a 
workman, with every apparent advantage of 
modern knowledge and appliance, compe¬ 
tent to make such another. It is now de¬ 
posited—having been obtained from its pos¬ 
sessor on very favorable terms—in the mu¬ 
seum of the Royal Irish Academy in Dublin. 
—-- 
CURRENT GOSSIP. 
The “ coming woman ” in St. Louis is a 
contractor for public works, aud she has 
just been awarded a $12,000 job of street 
macadamizing. Her name is Mrs. Rigney. 
In Iowa a Miss Julia C. Addington has 
been elected a County Superintendent of 
schools. The question of her eligibility un¬ 
der the law being raised, the Attorney- 
General decided it in her favor. 
“ There, now 1” said a little bit of a thing 
while rummaging a drawer in a bureau, and 
turning the contents all topsy-turvy, of 
course, — “there, now! gran’pa has gone to 
heaven without his spectacles. Won’t you 
take ’em with you, gran’ma, when you go ?” 
A lady at sea, full of apprehension in a 
gale of wind, cried out, among other pretty 
exclamations:—“We shall go the bottom! 
Mercy on us, how my head swims 1” 
“ Zounds, madam, never fear,” said one of 
the sailors,” you can never go to the bottom 
while your head swims!” 
There is a deal charged upon the Great 
Director of all events which is wrongly at- .1 
tributed. Man us a fi'ec agent works out his ' 
own status, In a largo degree. Ho is not so 1 
much the creature of circumstances as he is * 
the creator of them. Much of the so-called ; 
unaccountable iu life or death is not unac- 1 
countable at all, but can be directly traced : 
to individual and personal doing or undoing. 1 
It is, therefore, only honest in men and wo¬ 
men to accept the responsibility, rather than 
endeavor to shirk it. 
This is a matter which requires careful 
consideration. It is not a light thing. Life 
and death are not trivialities. How to pre¬ 
serve the one and properly meet the other 
are momentous questions. To what t he loss 
of tbo first, and the hastening of the latter, 
are really attributable, should be clearly un¬ 
derstood. Some writer unknown to us speaks 
thus concerning the subject: 
“ Wlmt, a strange Providence that a mother 
should be taken in the midst of life from her 
children?” Was it Providence? No! Provi¬ 
dence had assigned her threescore years and 
ten—a term long enough to rear her children; 
but she did not obey the laws on which life 
depends, and, of course, she lost it. 
A father, too, is cut off iu the midst of his 
days. He was a useful and distinguished cit¬ 
izen, and eminent in his profession. Agenc- 
ral buzz arises on every side, “ What a strik¬ 
ing and mysterious Providence!” The man 
has been in the habit of studying half the 
night; in passing his days in Ids office, in the 
courts; of eating luxurious dinners, and 
drinking various kinds of wine. He has 
every day violated the laws on which health 
depends. Did Providence cut him off? The 
evil, alas! rarely ends *tftro. The diseases of 
the father are often transmitted ; and a feeble 
mother rarely leaves behind her vigorous 
children. 
It lias been customary in some of our cities 
for young ladies to walk iu thin shoes and 
delicate stockings in mid-winter. A healthy, 
blooming young girl thus dressed, in violation 
of heaven's laws, paid the penality—a check- 
edcirculution, colds, fever, anti death. “ What 
a sad Providence 1” exclaimed her friends. 
Was It Providence, or her own folly ? 
Look at the mass of diseases that are incur¬ 
red by intemperance in eating and drinking, 
in study or business; by neglect of exercise, 
cleanliness, and pure air; by indiscreet dress¬ 
ing, tight lacing, etc.; and all is quietly im¬ 
puted to Providence! Is there not impiety 
as well as ignorance in this? Were the physi¬ 
cal laws strictly observed, from generation to 
generation, there would be an end to the 
frightful diseases that cut life short, and of 
long-list maladies that make life a tormentor 
a trial. It is the opinion of those who best 
understand tbo physical system, that this 
■ wonderful machine, the body—this “goodly 
temple"—would gradually decay, and men 
would die as if falling asleep. 
practice it, a clever fellow. There was com¬ 
pliance with the spoken word, legal honor, 
veracity. The force of the teaching one ac¬ 
tually gets in the business world, is, that 
money got legally is for that reason honora¬ 
bly got. Gold-gambling in Wall street is 
legal. The next siep is easy; the conscience, 
suffocated witli law, has little voice left 
against actual fraud. City and country are 
nearer together lhau they used to be, and so 
the farmer soon learns to water his hay and 
milk, and ask himself if there is not some 
way in which to live by wit rather than 
work. To do that is to be sharp, and to be 
sharp means money and some local fame. 
Rum-selling is a money-making trade—not 
half the work of plowing and pitching hay, 
and ten times the money. The legalized 
conscience opposes but a feeble remonstrance. 
All this sometimes comes to pass iu this 
wav -.—The father has too much regard for 
labbatl? If caking. 
justice and truth to do a downright illegal 
or dishonorable tiling, but he does so clutch 
the dollar that his boys, born with the pro¬ 
clivity and in the midst of everything to 
strengthen it, come at last to regard that 
dollar as the chief end of man. He who 
gets most is their model; who shaves keen¬ 
est and cuts sharpest between profit and 
penalty is their hero, Their intensest delight 
is in listening to the not oycr-modcst ac¬ 
counts which keen money making men are 
ready to give of their exploits. 
Now the father that, intentionally or 
otherwise, teaches his sou such mammon 
worship that all the sheaves of honor and 
principle must make obeisance to that sheaf, 
must not be surprised to find himself the. 
target of that same boy’s sharp shooting. 1 
The society that makes its members gam¬ 
blers and misers by its owu relentless cent- 
per-cent, and its haul, sharp legality, must 
expect plenty of occupants for poor-houses 
and prisons. But let children be taught, that 
justice, honor and worthiness are the prime 
elements of manliness, aud that a*, a sober 
estimate life with these is worth infinitely 
more than everything else besides, and we 
may reasonably hope to see an end of this 
despicable “ sharpness,” often meaner than 
crime, because of its impudent claim to re¬ 
spectability. J. W. QutNBY. 
-»♦ »- 
CONCERNING NAMES AGAIN. 
WHAT IS IT TO BE SHARP? 
Ln this age of universal commerce veracity 
in trade comes to occupy a prominent place 
among the virtues. Theoretically, It is beau¬ 
tiful ; practically, it is apt to degenerate to a 
mere trick of words. 
There is a story in Spanish history in point 
here. In the prosecution of the war against 
the Moslems the Spanish sovereigns, Ferdi¬ 
nand and Isabella, had taken the city of 
Malaga. The place had surrendered at dis¬ 
cretion, and Ferdinand had pronounced 
upon the assembled people the doom of per¬ 
petual slavery. But the city was rich, and 
the King feared that in their desperation the 
inhabitants might destroy or conceal their 
immense possessions of gold and silver plate, 
jewels and other treasures. So he caused 
proclamation to be made that if a certain 
immense ransom — knowing full well that it 
was more than could possibly be collected in 
so short a time—should be paid in to him at 
the end of nine months, the people of the 
city should he free. By this device he so 
deluded the inhabitants of Malaga that they 
gave in an inventory of all Iheir effects, 
but failing at last, as lie knew they must, to 
pay the stipulated sum, the doom of slavery 
fell upon them with all its unmitigated 
horrors. 
That in these days would be called sharp, 
and the minion of the Devil who should 
In a late issue of the Rural there is an c 
outburst from Mint wood, which, while it is 
quite refreshing to read, is subject to criti- ( . 
ciam in the matter of names. 1 allude to an s 
article headed “ Naming brides and cliil- v 
drcii,” I cannot, help thinking that while j 
some names would go harmoniously to- j 
gather, as for instance the “Willis How- t 
aud” mentioned, others would make a * 
shor/any combination, and would he a sore * 
infliction on the first-born son. But what if f 
the first-born were a daughter? (As will 
sometimes happen iu the best of families.) 
Another grand difficulty which the fashion ( 
would soon bring about, would he the “ con- 
linuosUy " of names from one generation to 
another. Supposing little Annie Willis* 
Howard should grow up aud he married to 
a man having some such name as .Toiin , 
Sullivan-Jones ! You see by the time the 
names were dovetailed together, it would 
come to be something fearful! One or the 
other must drop the family name to save 
confusion. Perhaps for the benefit of in¬ 
quiring friends it might be a. good idea for 
women to drop all middle names on the 
marriage day, and substitute the maiden 
name. To illustrate: Miss Amanda Isa¬ 
bella Linton is married to Hunky Thomp¬ 
son, and ever after signs herself Amanda 
Linton Thompson. 
As lor children, I suppose the present cus¬ 
tom for them to take the father’s name, is 
quite as good as any other would lie. It 
certainly is very simple ; while the copartner¬ 
ship mode, insisted upon by our friend, seems 
only to need “ & Co.” to make it quite like a 
business firm. I don’t know but what strong- 
minded women are preferable to the oppo¬ 
site. But I think the matter of “ swallowing 
up” the name of a woman is hardly worth 
contesting for, if the weightier matters of 
the law were all right. 
And now having had my say, I atn quite 
willing to allow Mintwood to add on any 
other name that suits her, if it won’t pre¬ 
vent her from writing spicy paragraphs for 
the Rural. Moreover, I am quite certain 
that neither she nor any other live woman 
will ever be considered of no importance, 
save as the wife of some noted man! But 
will of necessity, shine in her own individ¬ 
ual light, no matter who stands beside her. 
I hope that many objectionable things in the 
laws and customs of our day will pass away 
and give place to right and reason. Mean¬ 
while, I am quite content to sign myself, 
Mrs. John Smith. 
--*-♦-♦- 
One Painful Consequence. —At one of 
the medical college clinics in New York, 
the other day, there was exhibited a young 
lady in a most lamentable slate of deformity, 
caused by wearing high-heeled boots, certain 
muscles in her foot having contracted, 
, thereby converting the transient illusion of 
the Grecian bend into a stern reality. 
THE ANGEL OF PATIENCE. 
To weary hearts and mourning homes 
Goil’s meekest, Angel gently comes; 
No (lower has lie to banish pain, 
Or give us back our lost again, 
And yet In trndorpst love, our dear. 
Our Heavenly Father sends him here. 
There's quiet In that Angel's glance. 
There's rest in hit still countenance; 
He mocks no grief with idle cheer. 
Nor wounds with words the mourner’s ear; 
What Ills and woes ho may not cure, 
He kindly trains us to endure! 
Angel of Patlonco, sent to calm 
Our feverish brows with cooling balm; 
To lay the storms of hope aud fear, 
And reconcile life’* smile and tear; 
The throbs of wounded prido to •tilt, 
Aud make our own our Father's will. 
O! thou who mourn cat on thy way, 
With longings Tor tho close of tiny; 
He walks with thee, that Angel kind, 
And gently whispers, ” Be resigned ; 
Bear up, bear on, the end shall toll, 
The dear Lord ordoreth all things well.’ 
-- 
HUMANITY’S DANGER. 
Bin is degrading, and its consequences arc 
terribly sad. In its manifold forms it is 
telling fearfully against the weal of man¬ 
kind. It, cannot bo too zealously crushed 
out. It cannot be too faithfully fought 
against at any time and at all times. 
Yet the great danger of humanity is not 
in sin. The most dangerous danger of all 
that besot the human heart is in unbelief. 
Siu drove the first pair out of Paradise; sin 
banished Lucifer from Heaven; but there is 
a paradise to-day for all who will seek it, 
just ns surely ns though siu had never ex¬ 
isted, and they can find heaven just as cer¬ 
tainly as though no sinner had ever been 
expelled therefrom. 
There has been atonement for sin, and 
what remains is for all to accept that atone¬ 
ment. In the way of such acceptance stauds 
unbelief. It takes possession of all hearts. 
Secretly, or with a bold front, it dominates 
over nearly all lives. In ways subtle as 
varied it is spreading its baleful influence 
abroad, and is seeking the overthow of all 
truth. Preached kora popular pulpits, dis¬ 
seminated through popular periodicals, it is 
gaining an established foothold in Christian 
communities. 
Open infidelity is not half so fatal in its 
effects as this vague, subtil unbelief. Men 
shrink iu alarm from atheistic denials of God 
Who dally willingly with questionings which 
in the end load to something not a whit 
better. “ The fool hath said in liis heart 
there is no God ;” many accounting them¬ 
selves wise have asserted throughout life, 
“There is no Saviour —for me," and have 
finally met the fool’s fate. Sin did network 
their final condemnation,'—neither sin in the 
abstract, nor any particular sin, save the sin 
of unbelief. Faithful believing would have 
gained them that, the existence of which they 
so unwisely denied. 
“How oft would 1 have gathered you,” 
was said of those stubborn and rebellious of 
old. It Is a live saying to-day. Under the 
wings of protection and preservation we may 
lie gathered, if wo will. But will we? Do 
we so much fear an end past all hoping as 
to accept the kindly offer? Or are we stiff' 
necked and obstinate in our unbelief, and do 
we utterly refuse all tenders of mercy be¬ 
cause, in our short-sightedness, we may not 
see clearly just how those tenders come to us, 
or just what is the character of Him who 
makes them ? 
“ONLY THE CHISELING.” 
A Christian mother lay dying. Beside 
her a loving daughter stood, smoothing from 
the death-damp brow the matted hair. Pro¬ 
longed suffering had made deep lines on the 
once beautiful face; but still there rested on 
those features a calm, peaceful expression, 
which nothing but a hope in Jesus could 
give. Tears fell upon the pallid face, from 
eyes that were closely watching tho “ chang¬ 
ing of the countenance.” Conscious of tho 
agony that caused them to fall, the mother, 
looking heavenward, whispered, “ Patience, 
darling, it is only Urn chiseling.” Reader, 
the Master Sculptor “ seelh not us man 
seeth.” There arc many deformities that 
must needs be chiseled oil before thou canst 
find place in the gallery on high. 
-- 
FREQUENT PRAYER. 
Bishop Taylor beautifully remarks: 
“ Prayer is the key t,o open the day, and the 
bolt to shut in the night. But as the clouds 
drop the early dew, and the evening dew 
upon the grass, yet it would not spring and 
grow green by that constant and double fall¬ 
ing of the dew, unless some great shower, at 
certain seasons, did supply the rest; so tho 
customary devotion of prayer, twice a day, 
is the falling of the early and latter dew ; but 
if you will increase and flourish in works of 
grace, empty the great clouds sometimes, 
and let them fall in a full shower of prayer; 
close out the seasons when prayer shall over¬ 
flow like Jordan in time of harvest. 
