“And suppose everybody goes off to 
church,” replied the Deacon, “what’s to be¬ 
come of the children at home?” 
“There must be a golden mean, I suppose,” 
said Mrs. Geer. 
“ No!” said the Deacon; “there is no golden 
mean. Means are not golden. They’re brass, 
or lead, or pewter. Every man’s first duty 
is to his own home. He ought to invest his 
first money there, and put his first energies 
there, and concentrate his first thoughts there, 
and give his first time there. Then, if he has 
any left, let him give it to the church.” 
The Parson shook his head. 
“Parson,” said the DeacoD, energetically, 
“didn’t you think Mr. Wheaton did a good 
thing last year when he undertook to pay the 
expenses of young Whitcomb through col¬ 
lege and the theological seminary?” 
“Yes,” said the Parson; “I certainly did.” 
“But here’s Mr. Hardcap,” continued the 
Deacon, “ who is not only paying for the 
schooling, but for the food, and clothing, and 
shelter, all the expenses of four or five boys 
and girls, and that not for five or six or seven 
years—he has assumed the cost of each of 
them for fifteen years or so.” 
It was a sight to behold—the expression on 
Mr. Hardcap’s face at this unexpected dis¬ 
covery of his before unsuspected benefirence. 
“ But they’re his own children,” said the 
Parson. 
“Certainly,” said the Deacrn; “what of 
that? Somebody’s got to take care of them. 
And I should like somebody to tell me why it 
is not just as benevolent for Mr. Hardcap to 
take care of his own as for Mr. Wheaton to 
take care of somebody el«e’s child; and why 
it does not do just as much good.” 
“ I never thought of it in that way before,’’ 
said the Parson. 
“You may depend upon it, it is the right 
way,” said the Deacon. “God has given 
every man bis children to take care of—to 
feed, to clothe, to house, to educate. If we 
all did our duty, there would be ro need of 
philanthropic charity. That’s God’s way of 
taking care of everybody. Them n who neg¬ 
lects his own children to take care of some¬ 
body else’s children starts alt wrong. The 
father and mother who have reared, cared 
for, educated and put into life well endow<d 
for life’s work half a dozen children, have 
done a good life work, if they never do any¬ 
thing else. That’s the main thing: anything 
else they may do is extra, be it little or much.” 
BORROWING. 
“Neither a borrower nor a lender be, 
For loan oft loses both Itself and friend.” 
ri^HUS wrote the Bard of Avon, and I 
JL have found it true that the ‘loan oft 
loses itself,’ sighed I, as I sent Timothy out 
to make a circuit of the neighborhood in 
search of my quilting-frame, which I had lent 
last spring to Mrs, Brown, who had lent it to 
a neighbor, who had in turn lent it, and so 
on. I have always been free to lend, and 
Timothy says he spends most of his time in 
hunting up the articles from the borrowers 
who make a point, it seems, never to return 
anything. I was as willing to borrow as to 
lend until my mother-in-law, of blessed mem¬ 
ory, came to make me a visit a few years 
after my marriage. Seeing me about to send 
Norah to a neighbor’s for some sugar, she 
asked me how far it was to the store. “ Five 
minutes' walk,” said I. “Then,” said the old 
lady, “ why not send and buy it at once, since 
you must eventually do this, as well as make 
two trips to your neighbor’s house?” After 
that, when I had the impulse to borrow, I 
studied the matter first to see how really nec¬ 
essary the borrowing was, and I found that 
in nine cases out of ten it was easier and bet¬ 
ter to do without, or substitute something 
else for the required article, and that a little 
carefulness and restraint here helped me 
wonderfully in remembering to keep certain 
supplies on hand. 
Bull, although I have learned not to bor¬ 
row, and find borrowers a nuisance, I have 
not the courage to refuse to lend. When the 
Browns send their little boy in for next week’s 
Rural I shall lend it, although I know that 
it will either not be returned at all, or that 
when it comes back it will be soiled, dog-eared, 
and ragged. If they will read this, and if it 
sets them thinking, I shall be repaid, although 
I shall have to order another copy of the 
paper to keep my file entire. 
MRS. TIMOTHY HAYSEED. 
INDOORS AND OUT. 
E XCEPTION has been taken to the cartoon 
in theThanksgiving Number of the Rural 
because the woman is placed two or three 
steps lower than the man and on a level with 
the animals. The critics evidently forget 
place where the man should lead and govern. 
In the subsequent banquet in the spacious din¬ 
ing-room, the farmer’s wife presides and leads 
the welcome music of the tea-kettle with an 
accompaniment of delicious perfumes from the 
well roasted turkey and hot mince pies. Here 
the man very properly gives way to the wom¬ 
an and she reigns supreme. 
Whv is it that so many women are “always 
and eternally” dissatisfied with their position 
in life? Every one knows that all institutions, 
including the smallest family, must have a 
bead. It is ordained of God that man shall 
be at the head of the family and no earthly 
power can change the divine decree. The 
only result of dissatisfaction and carping criti¬ 
cism, is the injury of the family and the 
home: the institutions which lie at the very 
foundations of our national structure. The 
highest type of womanhood is that of the wife 
and mother and as such she must be subordi¬ 
nate to man out-of-doors. j. h. g. 
essays or talks read or given extempora¬ 
neously, at what we call our Sunday evening 
devotional exercise, by the different members 
of the Rural circle, who, as our old readers 
know, live in a lonely country place and 
some distance from a church. These exercises 
consist of Bible reading, discussion of the 
matter read, reading and explanation of tho 
International Sunday-school Lesson, reading 
of the paper prepared by a previously ap¬ 
pointed member, and singing, ending with re¬ 
petition in concert of the Lord’s Prayer. 
Our readers will kindly consider that our 
extracts are taken alike from young and old. 
While we intend to quote from time to time 
trom these talks, many of them are of too per¬ 
sonal a character to allow of so doing. As a 
matter of course, the Rural New-Yorker 
does not hold itself responsible for the princi¬ 
ples advocated or denounced in these talks. 
significance and application I know, but how 
can we reach the divine but through the 
human ? 
GOLDEN GRAINS. 
M OODY says that there is something 
better than a revival, and that is a 
Christian that does not need to be revived ... 
The R°v. Dr. Denner says if we are going 
to apply the doctrine of averages to our 
Christian life, let us make it a high one. Let 
us not use our extra piety of the Sabbath to 
fill the UDgodly holes and gaps in our conduct 
on other days. What we have done will 
never level up what we have left undone. 
This sentence from Herbert Spencer is as 
good religion as it is politics: The man who 
plumes bimself upon his wisdom in minding 
his own business, is blind to the fact that bis 
own business is made possible only by main¬ 
taining a healthy state . 
Kate L. Brown chinks it is a good thing to 
fall sometimes. It has the effect of anelectri¬ 
cal shock, starting the life currents into new 
activities. But let us take care that these 
falls be “falls upward,” and that new grace 
and wisdom are fruits thereof. 
Beneficence is a running stream, says Dr. 
Edwards. If cash flows rut of a Christian 
man’s pocket, it will almost miraculously flow 
in again, just as wat°r rushes into a channel 
whose waters have to gush out. Many a 
good man’s purse is like a syphon, the very 
emptying of which insures its refilling. 
A writer in the Philadelphia Ledger says 
it is useless to talk of sacrificing self to others 
unless there is something in self that others 
need. It is the full and rich life, not the poor 
and empty one, that can fill and enrich otbers. 
True benevolence, then, must obtain that 
which it would give. To acquire honorably 
money or leisure or power, to cultivate 
health and happiness, to gain knowledge and 
wisdom, to develop interest in human affairs, 
to cherish just principles and generous im¬ 
pulses, to fill the mind with pure and noble 
thoughts and the heart with tender love and 
sympathy—these things are essential if we 
would pour out olessings and benefits upon our 
fellow-men, while at the same time they en¬ 
noble and gladden our own lives. We are all 
influencing others in the direction in which 
we ourselves are tending. 
Ruskin said that childhood often holds a 
truth with its feeble fingers, which the gra«p 
of manhood cannot retain, which it is the 
pride of utmost age to recover. 
The one prudence in life is concentration, 
the one evil is dissipation, and it makes no 
difference whether our dissipations are coarse 
or fine—property and its cares, friends and a 
social habit, or politics, or music, or feasting. 
Keep This Fact in View, —Thatcher’s 
Orange Butter Color is to-day the strongest, 
cheapest and most natural color in the world 
and can be found with nearly every dealer 
throughout the dairy belt of U. S. Thatcher 
M’fg. Co., Potsdam, N. Y.— Adv. 
CONDUCTED BY MRS. AGNES E. M. CARMAN. 
He who bestoivs nothing, receives nothing: 
he who sows not , reaps not , and he who 
bears not the burdens of others, is usually 
crushed under his own. 
EXTRACTS FROM SUNDAY EVENING 
TALKS AT THE RURAL GROUNDS. 
I 
]^ORthe enlightenment of our new sub¬ 
scribers, we will again state that the 
that it is an out-of-door scene. It is in a extracts under this heading are taken from 
“Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of 
the least of these my brethren, ye have done 
it unto me.” Matthew, 25: 40. 
It occurred to me some time ago, that my 
next production for our Sunday evening ser¬ 
vices should be based upon an incident of my 
life, which has influenced me probably more 
than any other one thing. I know of no more 
appropriate text than the one I have read 
The summer I was 16 years old was the 
happiest, in the sense of freedom from care, 
within my remembrance. Yet toward the 
close of that summer I was guilty of the act 
to which I have referred. One night during 
the last week in August, I attended a party or 
“sociable,” as such meetings are sometimes 
called. Having returned home at a late hour 
1 was tired and sleepy. It seemed as though i 
had ju-t gone to sleep, when I was awakened 
by my little brother who shared my room, 
and was always my especial favorite. 
“Sister, I am so thirsty, I want a drink of 
water.” 
Half asleep I went to the water-pitcher, but 
found it empty. I said to him: 
“There isn’t any water up here; you’ll soon 
go to sle a p,” thus summarily dismissing the 
subject from my mind, believing that his 
thirst would soon be forgotten and he soundly 
asleep. The next thing of which I was con¬ 
scious was of hearing the following conversa¬ 
tion. 
“ Mamma, are you awake?” 
“Yes, dear; what is it?” said the mother, 
springing out of bed, and running to the 
stairs where the little fellow stood, half-way 
down. (The mother’s room was on the first 
floor). 
“Will you give me a drink of water, please ?” 
You may be sure that the little boy had not 
long to wait for his drink then. 
“Why didn’t you tell sister?” 
“I did; but there wasn’t any wa‘er up¬ 
stairs, and sister was so tired and sleepy. 
Thank you, mamma. Good-night.” 
“Good-nigbt, little boy; be careful, don’t 
fall!” (The hall was very dark.) I heard the 
little fellow patter up the stairs and across 
tbe floor. He climbed into bed, and nestling 
close up to me, I heard him say: 
“Poor sister, so tired and sleepy!” 
Can you imagine my feelings? No. I don’t 
believe any one can know how I hated myself- 
For hours I lay there unable to close my eyes 
in sleep. “Inasmuch ai ye have done it unto 
one of the least of these my brethren, ye have 
done it unto me,” came to my mind time and 
again. Also this passage from St. James, in 
which it seemed to me that “tone” should be 
substituted for “faith." “What doth it profit, 
my brethren, though a man say he hath faith 
and have not works ? Can faith save him? 
Faith, if it hath not works, is dead. 
Yea, a man may say, Thcu hast faith and 
I have works: shew me thy faith without thy 
works, and I will shew thee my faith by my 
works.” Surely my faith, my love were 
“without works.” There was "my own little 
boy” (as I called him), whom I loved with all 
the love of which I was capable, yet self-in¬ 
dulgence had come before that love. 
That lesson taught me what I fear I should 
never have learned otherwise, and it has since 
seemed as though I “ did evil that good might 
come.” 
It made me considerate to an extreme 
degree, I believe, of a child’s or of children’s 
wants—even notions. I can say, with all 
truth, that never since has a child’s appeal, 
request, or desire been unheeded by me. Not 
that 1 gratify every little whim, for I know 
that children are apt, to have a great many, 
which, if indulged would result in material 
injury to both body and character. I mean 
that I give it a reasoning thought and act ac¬ 
cordingly. I feel that I would make any per¬ 
sonal sacrifice, or undergo any hardship in 
order to grant a child’s request, or to save a 
child from disappointment. 
The divine in my text appeals not to me so 
much as the human. That is not the true 
All right-minded people will, I think, agree 
with me that education and morality alone 
should be the levtlers, so to speak, as to so¬ 
cial equality, and that they alone should de¬ 
cide whether a person be your equal or your 
inferior, or whether he be a suitable person to 
introduce into your home or one whom it 
would be better to avoid. Now, I do not wish 
to be misunderstood as not attaching impor¬ 
tance to what is called “ blue blood,”or “good 
family,” for such is not the ease; but what I 
wish to assert is that if a person is morally and 
intellectually your equal, he is your equal, 
notwithstanding the fact that his mother takes 
in washing or that his father drives a cab. 
What is the difference between servant and 
master, maid and mistress? What draws the 
line and where is it to be drawn? Morally I 
have known girls superior to their mistresses, 
and I have known some maids and mistresses 
of such a character that, were their positions 
changed, each would have been better fitted 
for the situation. 
If your girl is as refined as you are and 
morally your equal, then she should be treat¬ 
ed as your equal—she is not your servant, 
neither will she long occupy a seivant’s posi¬ 
tion. 
Associations, lack of education, refinement 
and often a dulled or warped moral sense, 
these are the inheritances that compel your 
servant to occupy a lower place than you 
grace or disgrace; these the inheritances that 
draw the line. G< d forbid that I should feel 
that any human being was beneath me, but 
because I feel thus, is it any reason why I 
wish to eat with my man or maid servant? 
Is it auy reason why I should wish to talk 
over my private affairs with Peter or Jane, or 
to he “bail fellow well met” with them? * * 
Caste nowhere shows its disreputable side so 
well as in the so called fashionable society of 
our times. It is held together not by any 
high grade of intelligence, not by any moral 
principles. A love of display and the gratifi¬ 
cation which springs from tbe adulation 
which wealth inspires are the lodestones that 
hold it together and make it what it is. It 
is a life, senseless, aimless and worthless, if 
viewed from an elevated point of view 
Fashionable people give to intellect and 
morality a secondary place; refinement they 
assume to manufacture for themselves. * * * 
It has often occurred to me that tbe class of 
human beings, known as the nobility, will ex¬ 
perience au altogether novel sensation in the 
world beyond, where rank and precedence 
dissolve before the just but inexorable judg¬ 
ment of Him who hath said: “For he that 
is least among you all, the same shall be 
great,” and again, “Many that are first shall 
be last and the last shall be first.” 
But the great question that concerns us indi¬ 
vidually, my friends, is whether we be first or 
last when judged by the Eye which knoweth 
the innermost secrets of the heart. 
Not long since I read an interesting little 
book entitled “A Child’s Influence” which 
made a deep impression upon me. How many 
of us stop to consider the meaning of the 
word influence, and how few of us realize 
that in our every day life we are exerting an 
influence either for good or bad? Are we Jet¬ 
ting our light shine as it should? A thought¬ 
less, unintentional act on our part may be the 
means of leading some one astray. It is well 
to realize this. 
A WORD TO CHAP. TY SWEETHEART. 
A MOST estimable lady of my acquain¬ 
tance made it a regular practice to air 
her domestic grievances every time she at¬ 
tended the class-meetings of her church, and 
while it may have been edifying to her own 
mind, it was rather rough on her auditors 
So, Charity seems to think it a duty to tell the 
Rural readers all about her own tribulations. 
If this would have any good effect, the dear 
soul would be justfied in publishing abroad 
her troubles; but in the present case she 
seems to be somewhat afflicted by that dread 
disease— cacoithes scribendi. Charity would 
have had her father to go behind the barn for 
pimUiUHW gulvertteing. 
When Baby was sick, we gave her Castorla, 
When she was a Child, she cried for Castorla, 
When she became Miss, she clung to Castoria, 
When she had Children, she gave them Castor! 
