« PreviousContinue »
able, where ail, even the wayfarer and By E. Louisa Mather.
stranger might feel at home, where How few there are, comparatively, who nothing is too good for use, and yet worstand
up bravely in the conscious right of thy of a cherished care, then, let the their own individuality, and give forth writing-desk with its manuscripts and noble sentiments concerning what seems
letters, and the table with its newspapers to them the greatest and the best, the and magazines, and the work-table with purest and the truest. All honor to
its materials of use and beauty have a those who do so; whether they speak and place. Let the sunlight consecrate all act before the eyes of the public, or utter the room ; let the breath of flowers and their thoughts in the sanctity of home. shrubs enter in as a benediction, and let Every individual soul, being a spark of the little children come with their books the Divine Mind, has an inalienable right and their games, and let all feel it as a thus to speak and act, and yet not to in- hallowed home and not a splendid one. fringe upon the rights of others, – those would that each one of us followed the others to whom we are so intimately al- dictates of conscience and duty in everylied; for the chain of love and afinity thing the greatest and minutest exunites us to all humanity.
How much pressions of our lives; would that each better and less hypocritical is it to be woman had her own standard of beauty ourselves than servilely to copy the ac
and taste, to which she religiously contions or the sentiments of others; to ap. beautiful or becoming to trail their skirts
formed! If any consider it neat or ply our own reasoning powers to the pursuit of knowledge instead of merely be- a quarter or half a yard after them, I ing the echo of somebody who seems to would wish them to have the privilege ; stand high in a social, intellectual, or re
if any wish to wear a bonnet of four stoligious position. Fully honoring and re- ries in height and a flower-garden at the specting whatever seeins good and lovable summit, they certainly should be entitled in many, very many, of all creeds and to the extra expansion. But those who parties, still we are not bound to merge do not really admire such a style, should and lose ourselves almost, as distinct, sep
be , arate individuals, in the existence of
fashionable. May the golden days of
any other person or persons.
progression dawn, when each soul shall This imitating others in various ways, that, and that only, which seems consistent
assert its heaven-born prerogative to do in expenditure, in furniture, or apparel — has been a very fruitful source of
and reasonable, something to advance evil, as well as a binding slavery. If themselves and all humanity; to make us your neighbor wishes to furnish his house fuel that we must not be idle spectators so expensively and nicely that nearly in the great work-shop of life, but artieverything in it is too good for common
sans, fashioning and moulding with the use, let him do it. Let his richly-adorn- implements given us here our habitation ed parlors be as dark and gloomy as a
in the eternal; and, perchance, in our tomb; let him tremble all the while busy work, some spark from our souls any one is occupying a seat there for fear may set aflame something good and noble some sacrilegious touch
in our fellow-worker, a brother or a sisdesecrate
may some of the fine things there enshrined ; ter, and lead them to a realization of the let him and his ensure themselves in the truth, beauty, and use underlying all
She had beard the cruel tidings
THE GIFTED DEAD OF THE LAST YEAR. That made her life eo baré.
By Mrs. S. M. C. Perking. “ Bury me in the sunshine," were
the She was hopeless ; had God loved her,
last words of Archbishop Hughes, of He'd not taken him away.
New York, who died Jan. 3, 1864. I Vaidly talked the good old pastor
have often pondered those words of this Till he said, “Then let us pray.”
Clinging to the decaying
forms and emblems of the superstitious Kneeling closely down beside her,
past, blindly groping amid the ceremoTo his Father then he spake,
nies of the Romish Church after the Asked him to console this mourner,
true God, may we not hope that in his For the blessed Jesus' sake.
last hours he caught a clearer vision of
the dear Saviour, the light which shineth “Let her see," he said, “in wisdom in darkness, which he had never before
Thou diilst cause her love to fall; fully comprehended, and “ bury me in Let her know thou hast a purpose,
the sunshine” meant that long enough Eternal through it all,
had he been shackled by his creed, and
the cravings of his heart were at length “ Through the groanings and the strivings, satisfied by the clearer light of heaven? The bloodshed, pain, and tears,
No king or emperor ever swayed as pow. That mark the solemn footsteps
erfully the hearts of his followers as did Of these warworn, vengeful years ; this archbishop his poor, untaught Irish
followers throughout our whole country, “ So that we, thy chastened children,
But he was a friend to his country, a May, by pangs of sacrifice,
true patriot, and sweet be his rest in the Drawing nearer, see thee clearer,
sunshine. With our grief-anointed eyes."
weeks of the New Year had passed, when a steamer from Europe
brought us the tidings that a gifted EngThus he prayed till o'er her spirit
lish poetess, Adelaide Ann Procter, had God's peace fell like the deep
chanted her last And tender dew of twilight
and had gone to
song On the flowers it lulls to sleep ;
Then before the winter months had gone,
before the rocks of our New Till she said, her voice was silvery
England hills had thrown off their fleecy As the echo in a shell,
covering, he who named them, and endur“I can see it now, my Father ;
ingly carved his name upon them, had I can say that it is well!”
passed to the army of the immortals. Thousands of scholars who 'never saw
him are his mouruers ; they will think of A LIFE of mere pleasure! A little him in their quiet studies, and in their while, in the spring-time of the senses, in walks with nature upon the hillsides and the sunshine of prosperity, in the jubilee in the valleys. The celebrated geologist, of health, it may seem well enough. But author, teacher, Prof. Hitchcock, died at how insufficient, how mean, how terrible Amherst, Mass., February, 1864.
of heaven were opened wide for him, and “ As time passes, I am more and more his weeping friends caught a large impressed with the nice harmony that glimpse of that celestial region as he exists between nature and the revealed went away chanting the sweet Psalms of religion of the Bible. It seems very David. The dew of his youth was con clear to me and gives me comfort.” secrated to God, and to the work of Old man of science, I thank thee for righteousness and humanity he gave the those blessed words! I will quote them strength of his manhood. Nevermore when the sceptic comes to me with his will that telegraph bring us more wretch- worldly wisdom and sneers of Him who ed tidings. Then before the month had spake as never man spake. gone, another patriot had passed away.
But the hours of the Old Year are Owen Lovejoy, a distinguished member now rapidly waning. A large harvest of Congress from the West, had gone to and a precious one has the great reaper the other shore. He rejoiced at the gathered in our beloved country. The dawn of a better day to our country, but God of Israel hath a controversy with lived not to see the clearer light which this people, and “There is not a house is slowly breaking. But now from Pis- but there is one dead.” But we adore gah's heights he looks over into the his wisdom for this chastisement. A few promised land, a land soon to be free
years ago when the prayers of Christians from the foul curse of slavery.
arose to heaven for the oppressed, faith In April, Mrs. C. M. Kirkland, of blindly groped in the dark, human law New York, the gifted woman and talent- was so powerful on the side of the oped writer, suddenly died in the midst of
But now it seems all as clear her incessant labors for the welfare of the as the rays of the morning sun. The soldiers.
very stars in their courses are fighting Another eminent author quickly fol. on the side of freedom, and to Him who lowed. Nathaniel Hawthorne was tray- ruleth the universe be all the glory. elling with his best friend and benefactor, Depart, then, Old Year, with all thy sorand went calmly at night to his couch ; rows and thy joys; for thou makest but in the morning he was not; for God haste to bring in the thousand years of had taken him.
freedom and of peace. Morris and Park Benjamin have both laid aside their pens, and their hands are WE
in artistic culture, we grow now quietly folded beneath the coffin. in ripeness and delicacy of taste, as we Dr. Winslow, the missionary, whose stand before the great masters, and drink whole life was given in obedience to the in the fulness of their genius, rather than command, “Go ye into all the world and by perplexed efforts to find out the propreach the gospel to every creature,” has cesses of their work. So our sense of also passed to the reward of the righteous. beauty and of grandeur grows, as
Among the innumerable host of soldier lean upon the breast of nature, and let heroes, whom no man can number, who its moods and aspects pass into us, until have fallen like the leaves of autumn, we morning and midnight and noontide may mention, with reverence, the names splendor and flushes of sunset and rock of Generals Wadsworth, Sedgwick, Mc- and woodland and the vast old sea be
Not in the golden tongue, but in
The old familiar speech ;
My poor earth-knowledge cannot reach.
IN MEMORY OF A SABBATH-SCHOOL SCHOLAR.
By J. C. C.
We feel no lasting pain ;
And wish them back again.
Forget thy new name, and answer
To the old one all the same ; And I will forget how long I wept,
And sadly, before you came.
And thus when death, God's harvest-chief, Bears home the fully-ripened sheaf,
We feel, though sad, 'tis well ; But when his hand in ruthless power, Snatches away some cherished flower,
Our sorrow who can tell ?
Kiss me, dearest, and make me know
That in to-morrow's beam, Thy coming, thy voice, thine eyes, thy touch,
Shall not farle into a dream. Pittsburg, Penn.
He from our school plucked such a flower ; 'Twas one in boyhood's gunny hour,
Acd dearly loved by all ;
How grieve his early fall !
And ready for that shore
“Not lost, but gone before.” Livermore, Oct., 1863.
By E. A. M. DEAREST, hear me call thee, come !
Not in thy celestial state, Beloved, but in the form I knew ;
Come but once, ere it be too late. I did so love thy humanity ;
Come ere I go to thee !
I may be less dear to thee.
Come and take thy wonted place Here beside me in the pale starlight,
And let me look upon thy face. Close holding my hand so I may feel
That thou art surely here. Oh, sister, I have missed thee sore,
Nor knew thou wert so dear. My heart hath so hungered for thee ;
Lay my head upon thy breast, So I can look up in thy fece ;
And talk to me while I rest.
By Hermeone, Much has been said and written upon this subject, and still there is need of more. No parents can look forward to the manhood of their sons and wish, or even tolerate the thought, that they should become otherwise than good and honorable men; yet how can they reasonably expect them to become such, if no effort is made to inculcate in their young minds principles of virtue and truth ; no heed paid to the early impressions made upon their plastic and susceptible natures, which impressions generally form the character, and make the man for good or bad.
If our boys are permitted to hang about the shops and saloons evenings, where tobacco and beer, the coarse jest and coarser laugh, with the usual accompaniment of profanity and vulgar bywords, prevail, will they be likely to learn anything pure and good from such a company and such surroundings? Or, in the street, led on by a few bad boys, all sorts of mischief is conjured up under the name of fun.
fun. The neighboring gardens are rifled of their cucumbers, melons, and plums, vacant dwellings are battered with stones and clubs till not a whole pape is left in the windows, and suchlike games, till the citizens complain of them and tell their annoyances; but still the remedy is not apprehended.
If parents really understood the importance of making home attractive to their children, there would be a greater