-
, t
I --
Ni . ~.
. 3 -:t -vi - Daztra - aei& :.
7 , r' a r\j,)
' The Moraipg Sky.
BI W. 0 B.TON
„ e3 r of dawn -with steeds of light,
G raring - through the eastern air,
; i s & the stars in pale affright
vied before the morning glare.
t he floor of Paradise;
i g e the sea of lucid blue TA'.
7:{ eentle beauty of the skies
'Shams me with its hue. •
';” had my sizul the politer - to fly
; . 7 thy bosom, morning sky !
s; look towards the world no mote,
s ot glory in the shroud
tleh veiled a planet I abhor
Withit perennial cloud. '
ry'.nornig g sky ! Oh, morning sky
Ere the wild sun bath dashed
F t ascorching banner zenith-high,
',splendor unabashed,
q a ale out thy 'dawning eye,
.17.1 e is a look so free,
of love and grata and glee
Ali liberty serene,
1:t oh! thisburning heart of tine
-yearning for the hour divine
When it may seek thy scene.
could the grave were in thy breast,
insteaff-of on the earth ;
lie field - of an eternal rest
Should have a boundlcssi girth.
were a charnel fit for Ale;
ar nobler than our couch;of sods,
here outward bloom and inward gltom
Can never harmoniie ;
•t sweeter were an azure tomb
Among the,stars and skies. -
am the,Philaclelplaia Dollar NergFpaper.]
.The' Choice.
WE 3. LYTLE 6761:013.50:5.
WILL IT PROFIT IF RE GAIN
.oLt-won.LD AND LOSE HIS OWE SOUL?"
• this world. its pkmp, its pride,
who bieathe, to Death allied,
with a common fate? .
',lto store up wealth on earth,
ing . ioys of priceless worth,
:h the just man await ?
irked man, in princely halt,
lye obedient to his•call,
bid idle plea Sure ;
:en disease attacks his frame,
hed on his Led in racking pain,
boofs his swollen treasure?
)rtitless7proi.es the garnem'd wealth,
ircha3ed for him while in health
favor of the great; .
his fad approaches nigh,
les, with a moisten'd eye,
ggir at his gate!:
hours around hirrVerowd,
iyers and protestations loud,
.ultures round their prey ;
world of future bliss,
cantrated all in this,
❑ks from Death away.
hat - humble claristian's life !
-are, and Worldly strife, _
his peaceful way ;
lot fortune's smile or frown—
an immortal crown,
of endless day.
T enough of earthly store
iunt famine from his door,
his Mite can spare ;
.st the' vain world's empty praise,
his alms in - hidden ways,
of Heaven's care
imon;d•from this life away,
stern Death without dismay,
wiles at his behest; ,
with God and all mankind,
io lingering look-behind,
iraly sinks to rest.
en, would choose a life of care,
stew vain pleasures-here,
eternal bliss
am yield mybreath,
me die the Christian's death,
my end like his."
The Flight gt Time.
flow,.thy•falling river,
Le a dream that dies away,
ocean gliding ever,
thy calm; unruffled way
4th such a silent motion
is along, on wingsof air,
lily's dark ocean,.
iog . all its treasures there.
rim, and then they wither,
isare_iiight, then fade and die;
`light are wafted hither;
like
visions, hurry by ;
tiondrat evening driven'
many celored west,
.._,rtgue - talleaven.
'4,taf happiness and rest.
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ISH
. 4 1 . [From the Ladies' National Msgazine.J
The Christian Maiden.
BY MARY V. ST.EVENt.
" Away with her—she Blasphemes-the gods
—let her be cast to the lions."
It was a high day in Carthage. The
sun shone with'unclouded splendor on
the white palaces dial:glittered along
the beautiful bay of the,Numidian city.
The streets were throPged with the
populace in gala press; for it was a fes
tival in honor" of the gods. Towards
the great hall of justice a crowd poured
continually, though the avenues lead
ing to it' were blocked' up ; but the ru
mor had gone abroad that ,a N;aarine
maiden was that day to be tried, and
the public curiosity was alive to behold
the demeanor of her fate.
Within the hall - there was scarcely"
room to stir. A dense mass of specta
tors filled it to suffocation, and it was
with •difliculty that the officers could
keep from encroaching on the space re
served for the judges. The most in
tense excitement pervaded the apart
ment. The audience, as if impatient
of control, heaved to and fro. and more
than an ineffectual attempt was made to
rush on tha prisoner,. while ever and
anon the shout would rise from the
crowd
Away with her—she dasphemes
the gods—let her be cast to_the lions:"
The object of this angry cry was 'a
girl scarcely yet in her eighteenth sum
mer, and, vet' beautiful. She stood at
the bar with clasped hands-and - uplifted
eyes, her lips moved as if in prayer,
- apparently regardless alike of the howls
of the mob and the angry looks of the
'judges.
‘•• Wilt thou sacrifice? Again I - ask
thee, wilt thou sacrifice ?" said the
prwtor sternly : "_remember to refuse
is death—the emperor is inexplorable."
The maiden convulsively wrung
her hands and a large tear drop started
in. her eye. A breathless silence en
sued. Notwithstanding the cries for
blood, the spectators were aghated by
many and various emotions. Some
were secretly favorable to the religion,
and others pitied the youth on account of
her youth.and- beauty, but at least half
the audience were bigoted Pagans - and
thirsteth for 'her death. Those being
the most brutal had the ascendency, as
if
. in every popular tumult. But all
kept silence now, awed by the feelings
of suspense which ever attends the
crisis of another's fate or our own.
To, the maiden those few moments
•of silence were crowded with recollfe
tions. The events of her whole fife
rushed past her. She saw once more
the pleasant valley where she had spent
her childhood. She heard its cool wa
ters, the rustle of its palm trees, the
tinkle of its sheep bells on the distant
hill. Then other associations. rose up
before her. She saw herielt attacked
by an angry wild beast, and only saved
by an only javelin of a passing traveler,
a young Numidian hunter.
The gratitude, deepened into love
which ensued ; her mutual pledge of
fidelity to death ; their • separation in
consequence of his entering into .the
army,_ and being' ordered to the Ger
man frontier with his cohort, moved be
fore her like scenes in -a magic phantas
magoria. Then came her conversion,
to christianity, her secret baptism in an
upper chathber where the persecuted
sect met, her arrest and imprisonment,
and new this scene ! She felt that she
stood alone with no• friend nor relative
to advise; and orphan, poor, and of a
despised religion. Oh . ! if - her brave
soldier had been there, she .knew - she
would have one bosom to —, lean on in
this terrible crisis:. Bat _no pitying
eye looked on her frOm the crowd, and
seas rolled betwixt her and her lover.
'et, though thus deserted, her faith - did
not desert her. In earnest , prayers she
sought strength from heaven, and he
who stood by the Polycarp among the
lions heard the cry. The momentary
weakness brought on by her recollec
tions of how many ties yet bound her
to earth disappeared, and she looked
firmly at the judge, key form erect, and
her eye like that of Stephen which he
confronted his murderers.
Wilt thou sacrifice"? I ask' for the
third and last time," demanded the
prceter. " Cast incense on the altar of
Jupiter and thou shalt be saved. Re
fuse and thou diest ere.noon."
The spectators bent eagerly forward
and held their breath to catch the maid
en's answer.
lam a believer in Christ," she
said. calmly : " Him' whom ye call the
Nazarine. /canncit sacrifice to false
gods. Do with me as yoti will." •
There was something so meek, yet
dignified and ,courageous in - these words
Regardless of Denunciation from asp) Quarter. --Gov.
- P
OIITS.II
cII'OMYSE3I)I9 232ZDITCYM3 eiD:Mßthtst 1:P&o 9 MITMETLIIER; SOD 2,66.4.4
that the mob 4 s fury Was - for a Moment
choked in admiration.. But their hem
,
then prejudices and thirst for blciod
soon attained the ascendeney . of better
feeling. A low sullen murmur ran
through the.crowd like the half stifled
growl of a famished wild beast which
gradually deepened into a shout; and
then came execrations and cries for
venaeance.
Away with her—she blasphemes
the gods—let her be cast to the lions P'
roard the angry multitude.
.“ Thou hast chosen thy fate," • said
thevjudge rising, away with her to
the lions:"
The maiden turned deadly pale, but
though only a weak woman,she evinc
ed no other sign of horror or , fear.—
When the soldiers approached to seize
her, she shuddered for an instant, as if
she already felt ' the-fangs of the lion ;
but immediately this trace of emotion
vanished, and she signed for them to
lead on. Yet there was still left one
mortal feeling in, her bosom. As she
stepped from the bar she shrouded her
face in her veil to conceal it from the
gaze of the crowd.
"To the lions with het ! Let her
be cast to:; them at once. Ho " for
the ampitheatre !" shouted the crowd,
rushing tumultuously after theconderon
ed maiden jtruggling and fighting with
each other th get near, that they might
spit' tupon the prisoner, and now and
then lashing themselves into a fury so
great that it was with difficulty the sol
diers could keep the mob from tearing
her limb from limb.
The slight frame of the maiden shook
perceptibly with terror, for though she
had neved herself to face the 'tons, her
virgin delicacy shrunk from being made
the victim of the cdarse and brutish
rabble.
In this manner her conductors strug
gled through the streets, until in sight
of the anapitheatre. Here at the cor
ner of one of the ways, they were met
by a vast crowd composed of the low
est mob of the city, who hearing of the
condeumation of the Nazarine kad ga
thered'tegether ripe for mischief. Led
.on by some of the vilest of their dema
gogues, they had resolired to assault
the officers in charge of of the prisoner,
that they might sacrafice her more sum
marily than by the lions in the arena.
Stand back !" said the . Captain of
the guard, unsheathing his sword as he
saw the threatening aspect of the
crowd.
Down with him !" cried one of the
rabble,,hurling a missile at his head.—
Give us the prisoner or die with her."
" Close in men, close in !" shouted
the officer undaunted. " You pay
with your lives for the safety of the
prisoner."
The little band gathered in a com
pact circle round the maiden, and pre
pared to maintain the unequal contest.
.‘ Down with them all ?" shouted one
of the most prominent of the rioters,
soldiers and prisoners—they are all se
cretly Nazarines. Down with them."
With these words he headed a rush
of the crowd, that bore back the scanty
band of the soldiery like feathers that
are swept.by the gale. Stones and
bricks, meanwhile, filled the air, and
though the soldiers were defended .by
shields, several were wounded. The
prisoner, in this onset would have fall
en a victim to the missiles of the moly,
but for two of the more humane of the
soldiery,, who covered her with their
buckles. Thus pushed back by the
rabble, the guards retreated against the
wall of a neighboring house, and being
now . covered in the rear essayed with
more hopes of success to make good
their stand until succor should arrive
from the city legionaries.
But the futility of this hope was soon
apparent. The, mob swelled rapidly,
extending far down the thoroughfares
on either hand. The whole city seem
ed-up.---There were doubtless many
among. tllie crowd who were secretly
favorable to the prisoner, and a still
greater number who wished not to'see
her perish except by a lawful death—
but the more violent, if not most nu
merous, had attained temporary ascen
dency, and the others uncertain of their
power; were afraid to move in her be
half.
More than half of the guard had no*
fallen ; the others were worn out and
wounded. The soldiers began to mur-
EMI
Why should we die to protect the
life of a Nazarine?" said.one of then..
Comrades', let - us surrender her to the
peeple:".
A sullen.murtnur of assent ran along
the scanty -ranks, and tho mob, now
hearing the mutinous words. desisted,
and broke into- huzzas. The maiden
saw that her hour had come, and sank
shuddering to her knees, lifting her
,igonized eyes to heaven in a last ap
peal. Suddenly over the deep roar of
the hozzas, rose the larinpet of the
cavalry, and the pavement seemed to .
the kneeling girl to rock beneath her,
under tile tramp of many horsemen.—
She started to her feet with sudden
hope. The shouts of the populace had
ceased simultaneously, and now was
heard close at hand, the clatter of hoofs
and the shrill sound of the trumpet.—
Like a flock of sheep awaiting the ap
proach of wolves stood. the latariotous
mob ; now silent, ivith black laces, and
sanding aghast at the sudden apparition
of the horsemen. Down they came,
the solid earth Shaking under them—
while for in the vain, on a barbed horse,
rode their leader.
Disperse ye knaves !" he cried,
in,a tone used to command, as he rose
haughtily t o his stirrups. •" Disperse,
or we ride ye down." And turning to
his troops he waved his sword and
shouted.
Charge !"
The word struck terror into the popu
lace. For one instant they hesitated,
but for one instant only. Up the long
avenue to where it turned to the left,
they beheld the glittering line of caval
ry advancing at a gallop, each file
wheeling around continually as if count
less numbers yet remained behind, and
at the sight the stoutest hearts gave way.
The cry "fly far your lives," rose on
every hand, and darting into the by
streets or rushing headlong down the
main thoroughfare, the crowddispersed
with the rapidity of magic. By the
time the. leader of the cavalry had come
up, the streets were entirely empty.
Throwing leis mud steed back on
his haunches as" he reached the guard.
the commander of the cohort addressed
his brother officer.
"W e are just in time I see. I heard
on landing that there was a riot in the
city and the cause, and I galloped at
once thither. We are to-day come
from Italy ; and I bring important news.
Diocletian is dead and the persecutions
against the christians arelo be stopped.
It is well we came up as we did,"
He would have spoken farther. but
his attention was arrested by a shriek
from the prisoner and the mention of
his own name. He quickly turned
round, and for the first time his eyes
fell on the maidens Quick as lightning
Ire leaped from the horse throwing the
bridle to the nearest by-stander, and
rushed towards her.
" Lorette !" " Anthony !" were the
mutual exclamations of the lovers as
they fell into each others arm : for it
was the Numidian hunter now- risen to
high rank who thus opportunely arriv
ed to rescue his mistress.
Language would be too week to de
scribe that meeting. In haste the lov,
er ordefed a chariot to be brought for
Lorette, and by his commands she was
conveyed the house of the
whose wife took charge of the orphan
girl. The intelligence of Diale,lian's
death spread with incoriceivable,apidi;
ty, and those who were favorable to
the christians now spoke boldly out.—
The great mass of the influential citi
zens•as usual, aided with the - new or
der of things: The tide of opinion
turned; and ihe'moh, finding their as
cendency over, sullenly submitted, like
wild beasts cbnfined to the limits of
their cage and restrained from harm.
The young officer himself soon became
a christian, his conversion to that-faith
being doubtless attributed to the exam
ple and arguments of Loretto.
On the ple4ant shores of the Numt
dian bay stands the ruins of a once
splendid palace. Tradition says that
there lived the ciiristian maidk and
puissant husband, the hero and heroine
of our story. •
It would seem from the following
the Reveille " entertain the same ap
prehensions of the influence of widows,
as Tony Weller : ' •
BEWARE OF THE • Wtnows.---Young
widows are always blithe. They ever
meet one with a smile and flattering
word., Can any one tell why ?•
, Young widows pay very scrupulous
attention to dr6ss. None knows so
well as they what colors, bliick, or
otherwise, are best suited to their com
plexion, nor what tricks of millinery
best serve to heighten the beauty of.
their form. Their knowledge on this.
subject they will put in practice. Does
any one know why ?
Young widows are better pleased
with bachelors than with widowers.—
W hat can be the reason ?
Young widows arp the most charm . -
ing part -of creation the envy.of one
sex, and the beloved of the, other—rand
w !iv
A Sketch Founded on Fact.
What. wonderful changes there are
in life," observed a•stage passenger to
his seatmate, - as the °carriage was pass
ing through a small village in the wes
tern part of N. York ;:.. Do you see
that miserable, half-decayed dwelling
on the left?" Oil being answered in
the afirmative, he thus proceeded
:
You are a stranger in these parts,
and I suppose, do not know the histo
ry of the unfortunate family who re
side there ; but I will give you a sketch
of it. as you are very young in life, and'
the lesson it affords may be a useful
one, if well treasured up in your mem
ory. The fine brick mansion situated
on yonder little eminence, surrounded
by beautiful gardens, orchards and
pleasant fields, was but a few years
since the estate of Doct. N., now the
occupant of that miserable cottage.
He had acquired a genteel compe
tency, by close industry to his profes
sion, and although he sometimes drank
too freely of the adder's milk. still he
was kind, amiable and laborous; and
the world pronounced him the niost
promising man in his parts. At length,
however, his besetting sin was found
to be growing fast . Upon him. and the
certainty was truly painful to his rela
tives and the large circle of his friends;
but their advice, their prayers, their
admonitions and their tears were alike
unheeded, and an amiable wife and
two lovely daughters were soon re
duced to poverty and wretchedness, by
the increasing dissipation of their dear
est earthly friend'.
" He is now a most despicable sot;
and the amiable daughters, by-their un-
Oring industry, procure a maintenance
for their heart-broken and feeble moth
er. and, their degraded and wretched
father.'
" 04, woman,
many
eanst thou
look on the many ,}vrongs and •suffer
ings of thy sex ; canst thou see the
misery to which they are often reduc
ed, and perhaps even feel in thine own
bosom the bitter rankling of the thorn
planted there by intemperance—the
in temperance of some dear friend, and
fold u 2 thy hands: and weep. and say
thou hast nothing to do! Dost thou
not see that this field of the g reat mor
al reform is whitening; anddost thou
refuse to labor there because the son of
public vice is blazing in the sky ; and
thou fearest its scorching rays may fall
upon thine head, or because thine arm
is feeble ?. Dream not of such objec
tions; but draw over thee-the beautiful
soothing shelter of self-approval before
God; lilt up thy sickle in his strength,
and go into the field; and if thou canst
not cut down the heavy (Train, thou
can'st pluck up that which b is tendel:
at least thou mayest follow the reaper,
and glean carefully, that - nothing be
lost—as did the excellent Ruth of old,
the immortal heroine of he age.—
Come: to this resolution, thou Wilt soon
find That thou cans: do sprn4thing—
thou canst dp much—LadiW Tem.
Mirror.
The Mother.
Heaven has imprinted on the , me•
ther's face something which claims
kindred with the skies. The:waking,
watchful eye, which keeps its tireless
vigils over her- slumbering child; the
tender look, the angelic smile, area
jects which neither the pencil or chisel
can reach, and poetry fails in attempting
to portray. Upon the eulogies of the
most ;eloquent tongue We should find
Tekei. written. It is the sympathies
of the heart alone where live the holy
picture, and the eye may look abroad
in vain for its counterpart in the works
of art !
A mother's love,! Oh what joy i in
the sound. Entwined around our very
soup in our earliest years. we Cling 'to
it in{ manhood, and , almost Worship - at
its shrine in old ;age. To use lan
guage of a celebrated writer, we say
that he who can approach the cradle of
sleeping innocence without thinking, 'of
suehi is the kingdom of heaven," or
view] the fond parent hanging over its
beauties, and half retain her breath lest
she 'break its slumbers. Without a
venei•ationbeyondiall common feelings,
is to)be avoided inc very intercourse in
life, and is tit 'only for the Bhadow of
darkness and the solitude of the desert
~ §ally," said a lov r ecto Ois intend
ed, • give us akitis, ‘villyon Sally
•• No. I shent,7 said &Hy ; '•help
yourself."
A dandy with a cigar in his mouth,
entered Van Awburg's menagerie,
when the-proprietor liolitelyi requested
him ito take the weed from his mouth.
lest he should teach ttKi. othe monkeys
had habits," !,
•
, • "
- • '
49. '
[O4 Lao Eto cdumazmui t 3 Itrixt,*
Work for Children. I
There is no greater defect in educat
ing children, than neglecting to accus
tom them to work. It is .an evil that
attaches mostly to large towns and ci
ties. Children suffer much from it.—
The parent never considers whether
the child's work is necessary or not to
the child. Nothing is more uncertain
than their future independence , and
comfort—much depends on being ac
customed to work—accustomed to pro
vide for the thousand constantly recur
ring wants that nature entails on
If this were not so, still it preserves
them from bad habits--it secures their
health—it strengthens both mind and
body. it enables them better to bear the
confinements of the school-room, and
it tends more than any thing else to
give them just views of life.
It is too often the case that children, _
provided they spend a-half dozen hours
of the day at school, are permitted to
spend the - rest as they please. Thus
they grow up in .the world without a
knowledge of its toils and cares. They
view it through a false medium. They
cannot appreciate the favors you bestow,
as they do not. knOw the toils they cost:
Their bodies and minds.re enervated.
and they are constantly exposed to
whatever vicious associations within
their reach. The daughter probably
becomes that pitiable, helpless object.
a novel reading girl. The son, if he
surmount the consequences of your
neglect, does it probably after his plans
and station for life are ifsed, std when
knowledge, for one of its important ob
jects, comes too late.
No man or woman is fully educated
if not accustomed to manual labor.—
Whatever accomplshment they possess,
whatever their mental training, a-de.
duetion must be made for ignorance of
that important chapter in the world's
great book.
It is easier to bring up a dozen chil
dren right, than to reform one block
head.
MAXIMS OF BISHOP Moutrrox...--
Maintain dignity without the appear
ance of pride.
',-
Persevere againsl discouragements.
Keep your temper.
Be punctdal and methodical in busi
ness, and never Kocrastinate.
Preserve self-possession, and do not
be talked out of conviction.
Never be in a hurry.
Rather tet than follow example.
Rise early and be an economist of
time.
Practice strict temperance . .
Manner. is something with .every
bcdv, and every thipg with some.
Be guarded in discourse, and atten
tive and'slow to spealc.
Never acquiesce-ia immoral or per
nicious opinions.
Be not forward to assign reasons to
.
those who have no right to ask.
I„i...*Think nothing in conduct unimpOr-'
I tant and indifferent.
In all your transactions, remember
thefinal account.
How TO GET A FEATHER am—The
following 'is an extinct. from Lover's
Handy Andy :"
" In carrying off eveu the small.thing
of a feather bed, Jack Tate, the bowld
burglar, showed the skill of a high prac
titioner. for he descended the stairs
backward's."
Backwards l" exclaimed LaiTv
Flagon ; what's that for ?"
You'll ice by and by," said Grog
gins. He descended backwards,
when suddenly he heard a door open
ing, and a faymale voice excLiiited—
• W bite are you going with that
bed ?"
going.up stairs with it, ma'am.
said Jack, whose backward position
favored his he; and he began to wan:
pp again:
..!Come tlown, , said the lady. 6 , we
want no bed here„man."
*Mr. Sullivan, ma'am sent me
home with it himself." said Jack.
1 tell von," said the '
lady in rage, ".there's.ne Mr. Sullivan
lives here."
beg your pardon. my lady," said
Jack Tate, turning round, and march
ing off With - the bed,fair and aisy.
Well, there was a regular shillo in
the house when the thing was foohd
out; and.cart ropes wouldn't 'howl(' the
lady for the rage she was in."
A Musty MAN.—NanCy, 'you must
have my things read to-morrow morn
ing early—the, boat starts at i7.o t eloek.
dear, husband ! With you it is
always rmist,. "must, must -yon are the
most m'iestztinan.l ever knew."
-
"Beat again CLAT,
El
EMI
Ell
EINE
ri
M.Do 110,2