MOORE’S  RURAL  NEW-YORKER 
tell  of  tlie  kings  of  AKsyrla,  of  Bahylon  and  Xine- 
Vali,  of  tlie  proud  Kinperor  whow  fell  down  at  tlic 
base  of  I’OMi'Ey ’8  statue,  and  gathering  the  folds 
of  Ills  mantle  over  his  face  ns  he  fell,  exclaimed— 
“KT  TU  bkute!” 
and  that,  other,  I'rlnee  of  the  lloase  ol  David  who, 
as  he  was  hung  up  on  t  he  cross  between  the  two 
.  rnalefaetors,  Iltllng  his  eyes  to  Heaven,  said— 
'  “  Father  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what 
they,  dot" 
Then  there  Is  the  story  of  the  tiueeus— of  Rs- 
THEK,  the  feast  of  Auasucekus,  aaid  of  AIordkoai 
t  he  Jew,  sluing  at  the  king’s  gate ;  of  Hkmiuamih, 
Dino,  IlKLEN,  (h.KOl'ATKA,  Ulld  laUir  of  I«AUKI,tA, 
(loveliest,  t^ueen  of  «paln,)  Maky,  t^ueen  of  Scots, 
JosKi-niNK,  not.  to  menuon  .joan  or  Air,  nor  foigot- 
tlug  ,Ma It V,  mother  of  JKses,  and  Maky  Ma«da- 
j.ENE,  and  Martha,  rtchost  crowned  In  glory  of  all 
the  queens  of  earth.  Xor  stopping  there,  our  story 
should  teu  of  all  the  noble  and  beautiful  queens 
who,  111  t  his  fair  hind,  so  Sit  beside  our  hearth¬ 
stones  and  make  our  homes  .so  many  palaces,  and 
bringing  to  us  Jeivels,  sons  crowned  with  glor,\ 
and  danglitcrs  clothed  In  grace. 
TIIE.SK  ABK  AS  KllHlES, 
and  their  praises  would  we  slug  were  the  story 
left  to  us  toU'll.  But  here  comes  (he  work  of 
kings,  the  iron  horse,  dashing  fuiiottsly  along  with 
ills  train  behind.  It  Is  number  twelve,  sounding 
out  tlie  whistle  down  ul  tkio,  and  we  must  u)) 
from  Our  Easy  Chair  and  hie  .aw.ay  to  the  city. 
Come.  Mix  Rasy  chair,  we  must  be  going.  Take 
the  old  hickory  throne,  my  son,  from  off  t  he  veran¬ 
da,  and  carry  It  away  to  the  garret  and  let  It  there 
remain  IJllthe  Rprliig-rime  and,  should  the  grass 
grow  and  lh<‘  llowcrs  bloom  lor  us  again,  aslii  each 
succos.slVft  spiiiig-tiliie  ot  Ibe  past,  we  will  return 
again  and  sit  lu  It  and  wriu*  on  till  all  oiir  w  rttlng  ’ 
Is  done.  But  should  we  not  come  back  to  again  | 
sit  In  Our  Easy  Chair,  and  should  our  scepter  piu'-  j 
Ish,  nor  again  ever  lie  taken  up.  tell  daughter  to  i 
gather  lininortelles  and  weave  the  garland  anew, 
entwining  the  iilcture  oh  thn  wall:  and  as  for  rlic 
vacant  throne,  let  it  be  kept  as  ah  lielrliKnn,  io  be 
handed  down  to  our  children  ami  children's  chil¬ 
dren;  nor  roiget  to  leii  those  w  ho  shall  come  after 
that,  as  their  grandfalher  went  aw'ay,  lie  did  so  ; 
IriisUngly  luiil  In  fallh  to  u  country  where,  await¬ 
ing  their  coming,  he  will  go  on  Ids  Joimiey 
AMONG  TIIK  KINC.S. 
But  be.  not  sorrowful  but  full  of  hope,  eonlldencc 
and  trust,  and  when  thn  .May  qiioeus,  clothed  In 
beauty,  shall  gather  around  them  (he  nymphs  of  , 
the  hills  and  the  rills,  the  king  will  return  again, 
and  sitting  on  the  banks  of  the  conesee  River—  1 
which  being  Inlcrpreied,  moaneih  ' 
THE  UBAlTin'L  RIVKK—  j 
f 
trill  again  sit  on  his  i  hroim  and  see  1  he  play  goon. 
.\nd  now  will  w'e  send  this,  onr  fli-sl  Easy  Chair, 
as  wTitten  for  the  Rckai..  away  to  Colonel  Moom? 
and.  If  ho  thinks  It  worth  w  hile,  he  may  print  It, 
and  then  shall  It  bo  rotid  by  tlioasands  sitting  pn 
the  banks  of  that  river,  all  the  way  from  where, 
bubbling  tint  from  eart  h  In  crystal  springs  among 
the  mountains.  Us  waters  running  along,  now  ' 
singing  and  hahliltng,  then  leaping  over  the  rocks 
falls  In  cat  aracts  or  circling  in  cdilv,  rindtiuinvay 
to  the  lakes  and  thence  on  to  the  oci'an.  A  Happy 
New'  Year  to  those  who.  yours  ago,  read  our  old 
OENESKE  VAl.kBV  IT<EK  PRE.SS, 
In  whose?  columns  we  used  to  tell  about  tbegallant 
Editor  Of  the  Rckai.,  wiio  with  us  so  loved  the 
fruits  and  the  flowers,  the  llelda  and  the  forc.si,s, 
that  he  was  only  at  home  on  the  fann  or  la  the 
garden. 
A  HArPY'  NEW  VE-AR! 
SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 
HEMINISCENCES  OF  HIS  EARLY  DAYS, 
[SKK  II.TnaTRATION  ON  PRECKDINd  I’AOE.J 
:  .and  frivolity,  as  mtich  a,s  he  pleased  him  hy  liLs 
Intelligence  and  talent. 
I  One  tale  which  Scott  ha.s  now  and  then  told  of 
I  his  school  days  is  this;— “  There  was  a  boy  In  my 
clas,s,”  he  says,  "wiio  stood  8lw.ay8  nt  (he  toj), 
and  with  all  iny  efrorts  I  could  not  get  alxive  him. 
Da.rii  passed,  hut  still  he  kept  his  place,  do  w  hat  1 
,  would;  but  at  last  1  nullced  that,  w'henever  u 
question  was  asked  him  he  fumbled  with  his  flii- 
,  gors  ata  purllculur  button  on  hli;  wai.stcoaU  In 
I  an  evil  moment  1  removed  It  with  «  knife.  When 
the  tsiy  was  again  questioned  liLs  tlngeis  sought 
!  the  button  in  vain;  In  his  distress  he  lookerl  dowm 
for  It,  but  It  was  not  to  be  seen,  and  a.s  ho  slood 
confon  tided  1  took  his  place,  nor  did  he  ever  guess 
who  Wins  the  author  of  hts  wnmg.  often  in  afler 
j  life  has  the  slglit  of  him  smote  me  ».s  1  paused  by 
him,  and  I  rr^iolvisl  to  make  him  some  reparation, 
i  but  It  always  ended  in  gixsl  resolution.’’ 
I  When  thirteen  yt*urs  old,  young  St'OTT  iii-st  read 
Percy’s  Rellqnes,  and  this  work  had  a  great  effect 
In  making  lilm  a  poii;  sllll,  before  this  (line  he 
I  had  tried  ids  hand  at  verse-niakiug,  .some  of  w  hich 
I  id  l^unpUs  were  found  In  uflcr  days.  'I'lie  niiitim; 
of  a  blood  vcs.sel  laid  him  on  Ids  bed  for  many 
I  weeks,  and  fboii  Ids  great  iiinuscmcnt  wa-sread- 
I  lug;  for  ho  tells  us  he  did  nothing  else  from  morn¬ 
ing  till  night*  unless  somo  one  was  charitable 
enougli  to  play  cluxs  with  him.  Fi-Ciin  a  elrcu- 
lattiig  library  In  Edinburgh  he  obtained  unany  old 
,  romances  and  play.s,  ari<l  when  Ured  of  these  he 
I  turned  to  hlstoile.s,  vo.vages  and  travels,  .and  Huih 
I  acquired  a  ipianiity  of  Ul-arrangfsl  information, 
wlileb  proved  useful  lu  tlie  literary  work  1o  which 
he  devol-ed  Ids  life,  and  which  has  made  Ids  name 
j  famous. 
In  li«‘2  he  was  called  to  the  bar  as  an  advocate; 
,  but  lie  had  very  little  practice.  His  Uleraiy  life 
j  HiiMi  really  began,  w  hich  laslcd  for  slx-aiid-thlriy 
ycara.  In  ISOR  he  gave  lo  the  public  the  “Lay  (if 
\  the  I, last  Minstrel,"  and  became  the  poetleal  lavor- 
itc  or  the  day.  “.Marmiou,”  the  "Lady  of  the 
l.ake,’’  and  other  poems  follow ed.  In  isu  he  jiule 
llshed  the  historical  novel  of  *’Waverley,’’  lad  for 
several  years  it  W'as  a  secret  that  he  the  aii- 
Hior  of  the  book,  who  wa.s  siioken  of  as  "(he 
flreat  I'nknown.”  in  the  next  few  years  he  pub¬ 
lished  with  Ids  name  several  similar  l•olllBlK•es, 
among  them  “Rob  Roy”  and  “The  Heart  of 
Midlothian.”  He  assisted  In  starling  “The  Quar¬ 
terly  Review.” 
'J’o  Ids  pen  he  ow’cd  Ills  land  and  casile  at  Ab¬ 
botsford,  and  from  1S20  to  Isirt  he  lived  tliere  like 
one  of  Ids  own  feudal  chlef.s;  hut  in  isvo  there  ' 
camo  a  commercial  cra.sh  and  the  publishers  of  j 
Ida  books  became  banknipt.  and  he  w  as  louiid  to  j 
bi' liable  fora  vast  debt,  .srorr  set  himself  nobly 
to  work  to  reiiiv.v  It,  lb-  overuiskisi  nis  strength  ' 
In  the  effori,  and  In  IS.'ia  breathed  his  last  .at  .Ab¬ 
botsford,  learing  behind  him  a  name  which  will 
never  be  foi^ottcn. 
SOUTHERN  "INDEPENDENOE.” 
Tire  Natchez  (Miss.)  Weekly  Democrat  Is  re¬ 
sponsible  for  t,be  tollowtng  excellent  sketch: 
“Hallo,  stranger;  yon  seem  to  be  going  to 
market’?" 
“Ye.s,  sir,  I  am.” 
“What  arc  you  caj-rying  that  plow  along  for?” 
“  Doing  to  send  It  to  lirtsburg.” 
“  To  Pittsburg,  In  Pennsylvania  ?” 
“  You’re  mighty  rlglit,  T  am.” 
“  iVhat.  are  you  going  to  send  it  tliore  for  ?” 
"  To  get  sharpened.” 
“  All  the  way  to  Plltsburg  to  got  sharpened  ?” 
“Voubet!  We’ve  slnrvcd  our  lil;ic.k.smltli  out. 
He  pulled  up  stakes  the  olher  day  and  went  to 
Tex  Its.” 
“Well,  that’s  ratliera  novel  idea,  my  friend— 
sending  a  plow  so  far  to  get  sharpened." 
“  Not  so  novel  as  you  lieard  It  was.  We  do  our 
milling  at  81.  I.onls,’’ 
“  Is  thatfsO?" 
“You’re  right  It  is.  We  used  to  have  a  mill  at 
In  the  year  1T71  tlieretvas  born  In  the  tityof 
Edinburgh  the  little  child  who  grewv  to  be  known 
througlioui  the  world  a.s  Sir  Wai.ter  sctiTT,  the 
great  w'rHer  and  poet.  Both  his  parents  were 
highly-educated  persoms,  and  perhaps  this  inlhi- 
enced  the  ta.stes  and  habits  In  which  thtii’  son 
grew  up.  -At.  about  t  he  age  of  elghWen  mont  hs  he 
lost  the  use  of  his  riglil  leg,  alter  a  severe  al  UitJi 
ef  fever;  but,  ulthoiigh  he  wa.s  ever  after  lame, 
lie  W'as  wonderfully  biave  and  active  ns  lie  grew 
older.  Those  earnest  da.V5  were  spent  in  his 
gian(lfather’.s  house  nt  Sandy -K  no  we,  and  while 
he  stayed  at  the  old  farm  he  would  go  with  the 
cow  bailie  and  roll  about  on  the  gnuss  for  hours 
among  the  henls  and  flocks,  making  friends  with 
the  sheep  and  lambs,  who  soon  knew  the  little 
lame  boy.  One  of  those  days  ho  was  forgotten 
among  the  crag-s  and  a  thunder-storm  cnjiie  on; 
but  when  his  aunt  remembered  where  he  was, 
and  hastened  heraelf  In  search  of  him,  she  found 
him  Ij  ing  hnpplW  on  htg  back,  watching  the  light¬ 
ning  aiul  crying,  ••  Bonny!  bonny at  every  fla.sU. 
His  graudmolher  ust-d  to  Udl  him  the  old  Bor¬ 
der  tales  which  she  h.ad  heard  lii  her  own  child¬ 
hood,  and  80  the  names  of  .Umie  'rEi.FRR  and 
other  heroes  were  familiar  to  lilin,  and  he  could  j 
repeat  long  places  bj'  heart  irom  tne  stories  and  ' 
ballads  with  which  his  Aunt  .1  axkt  amused  him, 
AVhen  he  was  about  four  years  old  Wai.ter  was 
taken  to  Bath,  with  tlic  hope  that  tlie  mineral 
waters  might  cure  Ills  lameness,  but  very  little 
change  took  place,  lu  1TT9  the  lad  returned  to 
Edinburgh  and  wa.s  sent  to  the  High  School  there, 
wiiei’C  he  Wins  placed  hi  tlio  second  rlas.s,  wiiich 
contained  some  very  good  schoLars.  among  tv  horn 
Scott  boetune  a  general  favorite,  from  lilsmlrih- 
fulueas  and  run;  besides.  In  wlntor  ho  could  tell 
any  number  of  talcs  us  they  sat  round  the  lire  hi 
a  circle  listening  to  him.  Of  himself,  he  says  that 
he  “  disgusted  his  kind  master”  by  Ids  negligence 
Puuklnvlllo  Creek,  but  the  owner  gol  too  poor  to 
keep  It  up,  and  so  we  turned  to  getting  our  grind¬ 
ing  done  at.  81,  Louis.” 
“  You  don’t  mean  lo  stiy  you  send  yonr  grist  all 
the  Way  to  St.  Louis  by  rail?” 
“  I  didn’t,  say  nothing  about  grlts-W'e  halu’t  ged 
no  grits  to  send.  But  we  get  our  flour  and  meal 
fuiiTi  St.  Louis.” 
“  I  see  )'ou  hiive  a  hide  on  your  w'ogou.” 
“Yes;  our  old  cow  died  la.st  week.  March  winds 
blowcd  the  lUo  out'n  her.  Senrtln’  her  bide  to  Bo.s- 
ton  to  get  tanned." 
‘  •  All  the  way  t  o  Boston  ?  Is  not  that  rather  ex¬ 
pensive,  my  friend?  The  freights  will  eat  the 
hide  up.” 
"  That’s  a  fact;  e.loauer  thaiJ  the  buzzards  did 
the  < >ia  ciiucr’.s  carcns.s.  But  wbat’s  the  use  bein’ 
laxed  to  build  railroads  ’thout  y'ou  get  the  goml  of 
’em  y  Fsed  to  have  a  Uinyanl  over  at  Llcksklllet 
and  a  shoemaker,  too,  Butlliey’rekerflummuxed.” 
“  Kei-flummuxed— what’s  that?” 
“  It  means  gone  up  the  spout.  And  ’iwlxt  you 
and  me,  that’s  mighty  nigh  the  case  with  our 
State." 
“  M'hen  do  you  expect  to  gel  your  leather?" 
“  Don’t  expi’ci  to  git  no  leather  at  all — expect  to 
get  shoes  some  day  made  at  Boston  or  therea¬ 
bouts." 
“  Ratber  a  misfortune  to  lose  a  milk  cow,  my 
frliuid.” 
“Not  .so  much  a  misfortune  as  you  heard  It  w'aa. 
Mon.strous  sight  of  almekln’  aud  uubbln’  in  a  cow, 
and  milkin’  her  night  and  moridn’,  and  gettiu’ 
only  about  three  quarts  a  day'.” 
“  W'hat  are  you  going  to  do  for  milk  ?” 
“  Send  Non  h  for  it.” 
“  Send  North  for  milk?” 
“  Yes,  concentrated  milk  and  Goshen  butter.” 
“  Gh !  1  see  the  point.” 
“Mighty  handy  things  these  railroads— make 
them  Yankee  fellers  do  all  our  Jobs  for  us  now'— 
do  our  smlthln’,  and  grlndln’,  and  tannin’,  and 
I  milkin’,  and  churnin’.” 
I  “  I  see  you  hav  e  a  bale  of  cotton.” 
“  Yw;  we  gooui’lxittem  nickel  on  cotton.  Send- 
In’  II  np  to  Mas-sachUBCtts  to  get  It  caixled.  .spun 
and  w  ove.  Time’ll  come  when  we’ll  send  it  there 
to  be  ginned— then  Weil  be  hajipy.  Monstrous 
sight  of  trouble  ninnlng  these  gins.” 
I  "  That  would  be  rather  expen.sJve,  sending  cot¬ 
ton  In  seed.” 
;  “No  more  so  than  them  Western  tellers  pays 
when  Llicy  Bond  corn  E.asl  and  gets  dollar  a  bushel 
and  pay  six  bits  freight.  Besides,  as  1  said,  what’s 
'  the  use  or  paying  for  railroads  ’thout  w'e  use  the 
roads?” 
j  “You  Ht:em  tx)  appiwlatc  the  advautagesof  rail¬ 
roads.” 
,  "  1  think  we  ought— we  pay  enough  for  ’em.” 
I  “  I  reckon  you  faitxui  your  own  pork  7” 
“  Well,  you  rix;kon  wrong,  stranger.  l  get  them 
,  minoy  fellei-s  (o  do  that  for  me.  ft’s  mighty  con- 
I  venlent,  too.  .ifoustrons  sight  of  trouble  toUng  a 
j  btg  basketful  of  corn  three  times  a  day  tx>  hogs  In 
a  pen-’.spc.clally  when  you  haln’t  got  none  to  tote 
It  to.” 
“  I  should  think  so,” 
“  There’s  one  thing  lacking,  though,  to  make  the 
bu.sine»i  complete.” 
“  What’s  that?” 
“ ’I'hey  ought  to  send  them  hogs  ready  cooked. 
Cookin’,  and  preparhi’  wood  for  cookin’,  takes  up 
a  heap  of  lime  that  ort  by  rights  to  l>e  employed 
In  the  cot  ton-patch.  I  wa.s  sayin’  to  my  old  woman 
the  other  dayi  ’If  we  Mls-siaslppi  folia  got  our 
cookin’  and  washln’  done  up  North  and  sent  hy 
cxpreiis.  we’d  bo  as  hajipy  ns  offlee-holdcra." 
Your  horse  In  the  lead  lluwc  seems (o be  lame.” 
“Ym- needs  shotin’.  If  he  wasn’t  the  only 
liorHe  rve  got,  and  I  canT  .spare  lilm,  T’ll  send  him 
Up  where  they  make  the  horseshoes  and  nails 
and  get  him  hIkkI.  Can’t  get  such  a  thing  done 
III  our  parts.  Perhap.s  I  can  at  the  depot.” 
“  How  do  you  manage  to  live  In  yotir  parts,  my 
old  friend  7” 
"  Why,  we  raise  cottxin.  .My  road  t  urps  off  here, 
stranger.  Gee,  Ball  1  back,  Brandy.  I’m  glad  1 
seed  you,  stranger.” 
- - 
THE  CALIFORNIA  WINTER. 
The  most  deligbtful  weather  In  Cnllfornlu,  from 
January  to  December,  Is  Mial  w  inch  we  enjoy  In 
the  Intervals  between  the  winter  rains,  or  win¬ 
ter,  In  the  olil-fashluned  sense,  Ave  know  nothing 
In  Han  Francisco.  We  have  no  winter,  and  what  j 
we  oonveulontly  call  a  winter  is  .simply  a  season 
In  wiiich  a  few  days  of  steady  and  iim-sLstenI  rain  j 
are  aitcruatx'd  with  days  of  bright  blue  skies,  of  I 
cbeeiTul  sunshlno,  and  of  an  atmosphere  more  dc- 
llclotts  than  that  of  Indian  summer  in  Now  Kn- 
gland.  (II  the  stem  and  terrible  rigors  of  winter, 
as  they  an;  I'xpciienced  lu  less  favored  liimea,  we 
know  noiliing  In  San  l-Tanoiseo,  except  from 
hearsay  oi-  tradlUofi.  AVhlulor's  “ Snowbound, ” 
and  the  stxiry  of  Uio  old  homestead  covered  up  to 
the  second  floor  with  the  snowfall  of  a.  single 
night,  of  the  trees,  laden  with  the  weight  of  the 
flaky  deiioslt,  of  (he  gables  adorned  with  gigantic 
IclcloH,  seems  almost  as  strange  to  us  as  a  tale  out 
of  the  “.Arabian  Nlght-s.”  Of  .such  wiutera  as 
f  iKvso  the  southern  porUons  of  California  have  no 
pruLllcal  know  hsige.  There  are  some  localit  ies  of 
the  Stale,  It  Is  t  rue,  where  In  December  and  Janu¬ 
ary'  snow  falls  to  the  depth  of  from  five  to  llfteeu 
feel,  and  ii  avcl  is  utterly  impracticable  except  by 
Hie  aid  of  snow  slioe.s.  But  In  ili««  iiclghburhooil 
of  Han  Francisco,  and  to  Hie  south  of  H,  all  along 
the  coa.st  range,  the  wintere  are  more  dellglitfiil 
and  more  salubrioas  than  any  tjeason  known  in 
the  AtlanUc  Slates.  AS’e  siveak  of  “the  climate  of 
I’aUforjila;”  but  Hie  fact  Is  tliiil  California  biif;  a 
score  of  cllm.ates.  Rlgbl  here,  wllbln  a  circuit  of 
thlrly  mUes  from  Han  Francisco,  an  hour's  travel 
will  carry  a  man  from  one  climate  to  anotJieras 
dlveiw  as  t  ho.se  which  In  other  countries  have  an 
interspace  of  liuudrcds  of  miles,  san  Francisco,  j 
Oakland,  San  Rafael  and  San  Jose  h:»vp  climates 
eiisenf  tally  dlsUnct,  and  all  dellghttul.  It  U  not 
to  be  w  ondered  nt  iljat  as  the  facw  in  regard  to 
the  State  are  becoming  knowui  the  number  of  Im¬ 
migrants  and  visitors  In  search  of  health  la  stead¬ 
ily  Increasing.  Di  Uio  month  of  October  last  tin*  j 
largest  number  of  pa,ssengprs  that  ever  roax’hed 
the  State  since  the  opening  of  the  rallrOHd  In  18C9 
anived  liera.  iiie  total  number  wa-s  7,495.  In 
October  of  last  year  t  he  arrivals  were  r.,(ii9.  There 
Is  no  iloubt  at  all  Miai  as  the  manifold  advantages 
wlili'h  California  citn  hoa.sto>'er  the  less  favored 
States  on  Hie  Ailaulic  seaboard  become  more 
widely  known  the  Immigration  will  steadily  In-  i 
crease. — Han  Francisco  Chronicle.  | 
»  »  »  —  .-■■■- 
WASHINGTON’S  HORSES.  I 
-  -  I 
AcooBDiNo  to  G.  w.  P.  CusUs’  recoliccuons,  the  | 
grooiuhigof  Geo.  Washington^  white  horacs  was 
sometliliig  surpiisUig.  The  idghl  before  these 
lioraes  w  ere  expected  te  be  ridden  they  were  cov- 
pivd  entirely  over  with  a  paste,  or  wiUch  whiting 
was  the  principal  oompouenl  piui.;  then  the  ani¬ 
mals  were  swatned  In  body  ciotiie.s  and  left  to 
sleep  ntion  clean  straw.  In  the  moniing  the 
composition  laad  bci?ome  hard,  was  well  rubbed 
lu  and  curried  aud  brushed,  which  process  gave 
to  the  conks  a  beautiful,  glossy  and  satln-llke  ap¬ 
pearance.  The  hoofs  were  then  blackened  and 
polished,  the  mouth  washed,  teeth  picked  and 
cleaned,  and  the  leopard  -  skin  housings  being  ' 
properly  adjusted,  the  white  chargers  were  led  out. 
for  sendee.  j 
" - -  i 
Things  arc  uot  lo  be  done  by  the  eflfort  of  the 
moment,  but  by  the  preparation  of  past  moments. 
.I'lRWI, 
i 
^abliatl)  ‘|{fa{iiiui, 
CONSECRATION. 
Take  my  life,  and  let  it  Ik* 
Con.'tecrated  all  to  Tliee , 
Take  lui'  handh,  and  let  them  move 
At  the  imimlMf  of  'pRi-  lo^-e  ; 
Take  mj'  feet,  ami  let  tliom  l)e 
Hwift  and  boantlful  for  Thee ; 
Take  my  voioe,  and  let  me  i!lu>f 
Only  for  my  Lord  the  Kin? ; 
i  ake  my  lipB.  and  let  them  be 
Filled  xvith  iniagf..8  from  Thee ; 
Take  my  silver  and  my  Kold, 
Not  a  mite  wmdd  I  withhold ; 
i’ake  my  inumentH  and  my  days. 
L<-t  them  flow  in  cTetiseless  praise ; 
Take  my  infelleet,  and  use 
Even-  l>ower  iis  Thou  wilt  choose ; 
Take  my  will  and  make  it  Thine, 
It  shall  be  no  IpuRer  mine ; 
Take  my  heart,  it  is  Thine  own, 
It  shall  be  Thy  royal  throne ; 
Take  my  love,  my  Lonl,  I  pour 
At  Thy  feet  Its  treasured  store ; 
Take  no  self,  and  1  will  Ik- 
E\  er  only,  Lord,  for  Thee. 
A  CHILD’S  PRAYER. 
Hue  was  hardly  able  to  talk  plainly,  and  an 
I  offleer  had  to  give  her  his  hand  to  a.ssist  her  up 
the  steps  Into  the  Central  Station. 
“  inu  you  put  my  mother  in  jmi  ?”  she  askeil  as 
'  she  pushed  her  min-bonnet  back  and  looked  from 
one  to  another. 
They  had  uiTested  a  red-faced,  langled-halr 
'  woman,  who  fought  (ho  offleers  and  made  use  of 
foul  Language,  No  one  dreanied  that  the  child 
was  liers,  but  It  was.  i'he  lliilc  Hdug  w-as  jki 
innocent  ami  pure  that  theydldui  want  her  to 
oven  sec  the  iron  bars,  but  the  mother  heard  her 
voice,  called  lx)  her  and  llie.v  opened  the  corridor 
door.  The  child  gewsped  the  iron  door,  looked 
Into  the  oelL  and  cried  out: 
“  Wiij ,  mother,  you  are  In  jail !” 
The  motlicr  crowded  back,  ashiimed  of  heraelf, 
and  the  child  kmii  dowm  on  tlm  stone  floor,  clung 
to  the  Iron  bars  of  the  door,  and  prayed : 
"Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep,  and  I  hope  my 
mother  Will  be  let  out  of  j.aii 
The  men  had  tears  in  tbeir  eyes  as  they  geuily 
removed  her,  and  when  the  woman  came  Into 
court  in  the  morning  to  he  tried,  the  Judge  told 
her  to  go  home  and  try  for  that  child's  sake  to  be 
a  mother  instxmd  of  a  wretch. 
- - 
HEAVEN. 
A  I.ITTLE  boy  was  walkhig  In  the  fields  with  his 
mother,  one  day.  lie  looked  up  to  the  sky  and 
sjild,  “O,  mother,  Heaven  la  so/ar  of,  I'm  afraid  I 
shall  never  get  there.” 
“My  dear,”  said  his  mother,  “Heaven  must 
rowe  to  u»  before  w  c  can  go  to  it.” 
He  didn't  underatund  what  she  moairt.  Then 
she  told  him  what  Jesus  said  wiion  He  w-as  on 
fajHi.  These  were  Ills  wonis;— "  If  anj  man  love 
Me,  my  Fntlier  will  love  him,  aud  w'e  will  come 
unto  him  and  make  our  aliodu  with  him.”  .Je.sus 
Is  wUling  tx)  cojnc  into  your  heart.  He  Is  standing 
and  knocking  for  you  to  let  Him  In.  Ajid  when 
He  comes  in  Hu  bi'lng.s  Heaven  with  Him,  He 
will  make  a  Heaven  m  .voiir  heart,  if  you  w  ill  let 
Him  come  and  dwell  ilicre.  But,  if  we  don’t  let 
lilm  come  and  dwell  in  our  hearts  here,  He  won’t 
let  ns  go  and  dwell  with  Him  lu  Heaven  hereafter. 
Heaven  must  come  lo  us  before  we  can  go  to  it. 
■ - - 
TKE  GARDENER’S  LESSON. 
i'wo  ganlencrs  had  their  craps  of  peas  killed  by 
the  frost.  One  of  them  was  very  impatient  under 
the  10.S8,  and  Q-ctted  about  It  V(*r>'  much.  Thu 
olher  went  pauently  to  work  at  once  to  plant  a 
new  croj).  After  a  wiille  the  Impatient,  fretting 
man  tvenl  txi  his  neighbor.  To  hla  surprise,  he 
found  another  eroj)  of  peas  growing  flnely.  He 
a-sked  how’  this  could  be. 
“  These  arc  w  hat  l  sow’etl  while  you  tvere  frei- 
llug,”  8.aid  Ills  nelghlxir. 
“  But  don’t  you  ever  fret?”  he  asked. 
“  Y'es,  I  do;  but  f  put  It  oil'  tUl  1  have  repaired 
the  inlscblef  that  has  been  done.” 
“  AYhy,  then  you  have  uo  need  to  fret  at  all.” 
“True,”  said  his  friend,  “and  that’s  the  reason 
J  put  it  off.’’ 
a  »  » - - 
I’RAYKR.— Pra.ver  Ls  Hu;  rustling  of  the  wings  of 
ihuangeLs  tlmt  araon  their  way  bringing-  us  the 
l)Oons  of  lieaven.  Even  as  a  cloud  foreshadoweth 
ram,  so  jirayer  foreshadoweth  the  blessing;  even 
nslhe  green  blade  is  the  beginning  of  the  hanest, 
so  Is  prayer  the  prophecy  of  the  blessing  that  Is 
about  to  come. — Hpurgeou, 
- - 
Love  is  Ita  own  perennial  fountof  strength.  The 
strength  of  affection  Is  a  proof  not  of  the  worthi¬ 
ness  of  the  object,  but  of  the  largeness  of  the  soul 
which  loves.— /foiefcwK?  hui. 
- ■"  ■»»»- . 
With  men  the  heait  is  known  by  our  words; 
but  with  God  onr  words  are  weighed  by  our 
hearts.- Rw'nard. 
- 
God  sees  hearts  as  w-e  see  twees.— George  Herbert,  J 
