~.,6- l i t. l'faiit4..eirtls._
rWritten f)t. the American Presbyterian.]
THE STREAM OF LIFE.
ET EDWIN H. NEVIN
We are sailing on, brother,
Onward to the sea :
Thence there's no return, brother,
None for you or me.
Round our little boats, brother,
Tempests sometimes sweep;;;
But the sun breaks forth, brother,
And the tempests sleep.
Sometimes it is dark, brother,
As we sail along;
But the light soon shines, brother,
Night is never long.
Sometimes we are sad, brother,
Sorrow springs within;
"Then we, look above, brother,
And our joys begin.
Thoughour little boats, brother,
. Seem to be apart,
We can still be near, brother,
When we're joined in heart.
Brighter grows the clay, brother,
As we onward sail
Nearer to our home, brother, •
, Presses every gale.
Soon we'll shout " The Sea!" brother,
Blessed sea of love
Storms are never'there, brother,
All is peace above.
THE UNSEEN FRIEND.
";Do come, Ned, only this once, just
to, see how you like it; it is first-rate
fun, and not a bit of harm in it—do
°c r."
le boy thus addressed shook his
he d, and, removing the hand which
hik companion ho l d ; plaCed , entreatingly,
onlis shoulder, moved back from sajing, " No, George, I cannot; I
Ketnised I. would not play' billiards,
and I won't break my word."
Promised I" echoed several voices
"Who made you promise ? Your aunt,
ppose ? Who would mind. what
f;; oman says ? What 40, they .know
'lit billiards? YOu are too much
di's. man, Fairlie, to be in leading
strings to a woman, surely 1"
" Well, I hope I am too much of a
Min to think of ' going against my
aunt's wishes," was the spirited reply ;
" but I made no, promise to her. In
deed., I never heard her speak on the
subject; but my uncle asked me to pro
rfrise that I would not; and r did; and I
afii suit yciu would all,thirik 4rie a mean,
- wicked fellow to break my word."
Some of the boys, on hearing these
words, turned away, shrugging their
shoulders ; only George Miller lingered'
a moment. ",Didn't know, Ned, you
had an uncle," he said ; "I thought
you lived alone with your aunt in that
old-fashioned house."
.."-`So I do, George. My uncle is in
China. I never saw him in my life;
loi4, for all that, I love him =dearly, and
shall do nothing to "vex him, if I can
help it."
George gave a strange sort of laugh ;
he meant it to be one of-derision; but
aLlatent feeling in his heart that Ned
Fairlie was no •• object of 2 derision,
changed it into one of - dissatisfaction
WO imself. •
Wet', Ned," he said, if,yon are a
strange fellow, to care about offending
an uncle you never saw, and yet you
say you llve.delirlYdlCan!t raike out
how you can do that . , when you don't
know him." • ,
"0 but,. George, tdolknOw hix by
his. deeds.. lie is the very kindest
friend I, have.,, Why,, everything I
have I get frormihim. You can't thin
id costly presents he sends me; and•
tiglia his letters are so full of love ; and
*who have.-UO fatlier i ,oire , him much
foil 'all the kind 'advice he gives;ine
%yes, I do'love' him, though I. have
not seen him. I'll tell
,you what,
George ;'come and. speria
,they
with me. Aunt will. be glad to see
ibul' and I'll shoW you all my uncle's
presents. Do come; it will be far
better than going with these,boys to
play billiards."
George hesitated a .pioruot, then
eagerly aeopted* invitation, saying,
"Well, to pay , the ou have
shvned me ; for o l know qiiite w E ell
that4ny father would ,not 14ce, me to
plo r thqugh byead ,noitteliially made
prßmise nbt*to
The 'boys then set Off:itawartiNedis
home.,lt was, as George had said„:an
old-fasioned house, at some distance
frbm tbo town. Ivy seemed to abound
everywhere. It covered the heavy
pillars on each side of the massive iron.
gate; it encircled the old trees, and
imparted a fresh beauty • to their gnarl
trunics, and clung lovingly to the
wal)s of the, house itself. But if ivy
aliounded, so did roses and flowers;
and, with the golden sunshine streamirig
over all, George thdught he had never
seen a nicer place than N, 's
As they walked thrciug the park, a
beautiful pony scampered up to them.
Wh at a beauty Ned, is he yours ?
Aso taroe, too ! Is he your own ?"
"Yes; there he is, a present from
uncle. I have had him for three years ;
he - ges first-rate, and yet so gentle,
thit'd child could ride h 4. m."
As they opened the house-door, a
pretty little King Charles spaniel, with
long ears, jumped 'upon Ned, in great
joy at seeing him. Another of uncle's
presents, George," said he ; "isn't he a
real beauty ? and so wep t trained, comes
at the slightest call, and is - up to so
rgioy tricks."
rale boys remained some minutes
amusing themselves with little .. F.ri4 ;
tikgt
~went into the .drawing-,room,
where they were kindly received by
, .
Ned's aunt, Miss Fairlin. " She asked
George-to.r , emain-td.tea r which would
soon be ready ; and, till then, advised
Ned to• take him to the library, and
shoW him some of his Chinese curi
osities. George thought there seemed
no end of these beautifully carved
bOx:eS, puzzles of all descriptions,
Chinese lamps hanging from the ceil
ing, Chinese mandarins on, the tables,
no end of chop-stinks; and 0 ! above
all, such a beautifully carved model of
'a Chinese junk, enough to gladden the
beart of any boY in the world 1
George felt no jealousy of all these
things, for Ned was so kind in show
ing them—not in a boastful way, but
for his friend's pleasure. "And did
you get all these from your uncle ?"
said he. "No - wonder jou likehim ; he
must be a kind"gentleman`; but it
seems so odd:to love any one yOU have
never seen. ), • , .
" Well; but, George; how can - I help
liking him ? Month after , month' '..1"
receive new proofs 'of his love for me.
` And then I seem, to know hint -fro
his letters also; and ,I hope,to see him
one day; for, when he wishes me, I am
to go to China, to, live with -him; and
already he writes to me that he has
prepared rooms forme;.and fitted:them
up with everyth ing;lae thought I would
like, like,so much to be
with him!"
." I'dare say you will," replied
George ; " you are a lucky fellow to
have such a friend. Still, I say it is
very odd."
"What is very odd, dear 2" said a
gentle voice ; and George started as be
saw Miss Fairlie, who had come into
the room. unnoticed, by either of the
boys. 4 :
"0, ma'am, Ned was, telling:me
about all his uncle's kindness to him,
and saying how much he liked him,
idthough,he had never seen him ; and
I said it was Very odd to love a person
you never saw 1"
" But, George," said. Miss Fairlie,
u
"do you. not - 7
Is there no Friend
whom you have never seep, and -yet
whom you love?"
"I ! p no, ma'am ! I love my
father, who. is very, kind to me ; but
then I see'him daily.,; and my mother
died when I was quite a baby, so I
don't even remember .her.,; And of
course there are several I like--
grandmamma, fdr one; but then I see
her often alsO. But I haVe no unknown
friend, like. Ned, who showers.presents
on me, or perhaps I, would love him,
even though I had never seen him."
Miss Fairlie laid her hand gently on
the boy's shoulder. " W Eat I tell
you that, you. have a' Friend in
.a far
country, who gives you many more
presents than Ned's uncle gives to him;,
who never forgets, you, never ceases to
do every thing for your good ; who
writes to you letters kinder even than
those Ned receives from his uncle, and
who is preparing a house. in the
far-off country for your reception; when
it is, His, will to take you to .
live with
Himself . •
At these words a light flashed on
the boy's,mind ; he saw; Miss, Fairlie's
meaning., Yes, he had such a Friend;
but could he say he h. - .dever ,thought
of Him in that.light ? God did indeed
lavish many gifts ,on him; yet how
little be had loved Him, how little had
be;striven to please Him, as ,11:9:1 did
his' Uncle; by
,obeying his commands,!.
Ned had crept close beside his aunt
—the lightin his eyes telling he knew
something of that - Friend ( ; also, and
loved to ji:ear gira spoken of.
~ " - Dear boys,," Miss , Fairlie said,
"'think one moment on God i s unspeak
al+ gift. , tHe gave his only Son,
ti4at, whosoever believeth on Hint should
not, perish, but have ever t lasting life.'
In coMparison with that gift, all others.
Seem as nothing. Kind, loving Jesus
to leave the glory and , come to ;earth,
to suffer anddie for us ! Surely when,
we think of that; we can, say from our
Whom having not seen,, we
love "
Sorne_days, after the events.-we have
written of, George received a small
parcel, which, on anfoldißg; he;lfound
to be a prettily bound Bible=a gift
from 'Was Fairlie. A rnark,,in. theform
of an anchor, was slipped in at the first
chapter of first Peter, and underlined
were 'the Nv orda ;. " Jesus Christ ; whom
having not seen, ye love."
Readers, do you love Jesus ? He
has loved yctu with an everlasting- love
'-loved you so as to die for you. DO
you love Him in return 7 Earthly
friends may be kind, but He is far
kinder. " Eveiy good gift and-every
perfect gift is from above." He is pre
paring a house for you in the far
country. He has purchased it for you
with His own b ‘ lood. purely, unseen,
you must love Him, who bath done
Such great things for you. Hear his
words " Thomas, because thou bast
seen me,
that
bast believed.':" blessed
are they that have not seen, and yet
have believed."
One day we shall see Him face to
face, and, through His' merits, shall
enter the home and the land that is
now afar oft:
" There, beside you crystal river,
--There, beneath life's wondrous tree,
There, with.nought to'grieve or sever,
Ever with the Lamb to be
Heirs of glory, that shall be
For thee and me!
—Christian Tredsury.
THOSE who quit their proper *tr
ader to assume what does not belong
to them, are, for the greater part, igno
}lint both of the character they leave
and of thAlOaracter they assume.
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN, THURSDAY, JUNE 7, 1866.
[One of our 'Southern exchanges
contains a circular purporting to come
from an establishment for the manu
facture and sale of excuses. It is very
well gotten up, and calculated to set
the reader to thinking. We give the
concluding paragraphs, with the names
of the firm.]
Send us a notice, as explicit as pos
sible of the duty, and the correspond
ing excuse will be promptly for
warded.
One of the firm will always be in,
and customers will be• waited on at
their homes, when preferred. All
communications strictly confidential.
Terms easy. •
We have .a list of some of the more
common excuses, such as we: always
keep on ; hand, and; we subjoin a few
of those: most likely to be needed by
.your readers ; premising th a t
_ we a re
ready toprepare, ata short notice, any
others that, may be ordered.
.1. gor ••failure to attend church,
especially in unpleasant weather, or at
prayer, conference,, or other minor
meetings --twenty-five select excuses,
well-arranged and indexed.
2. For not joining the Sunday
school, Missionary Society, etc.—fif
teen excuses in package.
3. For dinking—one .hundred and
fifty excuses, mainly new.
4. For neglecting family worship—
seven good and sufficient excuses,_ well
tried and warranted.
5. For not becoming a Christian—
three packages, one marked " World,"
another " Flesh," the third with the
name of one of the firiir, each contain
ing twenty choice excuses selected
fro/n. 4 a large number, and every one
of guaranteed excellence.
6. A miscellaneous assortment; `con
among others,'excuses for not
giving • for inattention in church 7 • for
preaching poor sermons ; for not visit
ing the sick ; for Sunday visiting,
sleeping or strolling; for worldly con
formity ; and • Many more, beside a
few standard excuses of wide applica-
bility, for-wrong doing in general.
Bear in mind that we can furnish
an excuse suited to any case whatever;
and when you find it hard to do right,
remember that next to doing right is
the being able to present a good excuse
for doing wrong, and give us a call.
- B. ZEBUB, Prince, &c.
• DIA BOLUS, M. D.
WHAT A SINGLE, SAPBATH-SCHOOL
ACCOMPLISHED,
In 1814-, two young ladies opened a
week-day, mission-school at Norwich
Town. The following year, a class, of
colored boys was taught in a room
near the present centre of Norwich
City. In, 1816, the First Church Sab
bath-school was commenced by two
young ladies, one of whom was, later,
the wife of Rev. Dr. MYron Winslow,
the missionary to India, and the other,
the wife of Pelatiah Perit, Esq. A
visit to New York had interested them
in the newly-opened Sabbath-schools
of Divie Bethune and Ferguson,
and they hastened , on their return, to
organize similar schools for the chil
dren of their neighborhood. Associ
ated with them in their good work
were the present. Mrs. William C: Gil-.
man, .and the wife of Rev. Dr. William
A. HalloCk, of New York. Suchari.
innovation on the old - Sabbath routine,
as the gathering of a school of home
neglected children, was not likely to
Pass unnoticed in a New England
community, and the young disciples
had to encounter positive opposition
from the church to which they be.:
longed, and: even lacked the sympathy :
of - their excellent pastor, in - their new
and yet doubtful enterprise. They
Were, at. one time, lockedlbut of the
school-house, and ; as they went about
inviting the ehildren: of the poor to
come and, be taught, they were jeered;
at as ".female select-men.",L But they
persevered in their Christ-like work ;
and when at length their pastor, Rev.,
Dr. Strong, gave to them his confi
dence, prayed for a blessing on their
enterprise, and stopped: on his way
home from church to say a word of
commendation to teachers and chil,
clren,, they tkanked God and took
courage, and as one of thein - afterward
remarked, ~"_almost felt that the mil 7
leninrn was near." .
Out of that humble. beginning, of
seven children taught by two young
ladies, God bath brought great. things.
Ambng other, fruits, twenty-six minis-1
ters of the Gospel are shOwn to have
been, at one time or another, scholars
Of teachers there. lncluded, in , this
list are Rev. 'Dr, , Kyronl Winslow;
Rev. Dr. Erastus .Wentworth, formerly
superintendent of Methodist Missions
in China; Rev. Dr. Augustus C.
Thompson, of Roxbury, and Rev. Dr.
William Thompson, his brother; Rev.
William F. Arms, for a time a mis
sionary in Turkey ; Rev. Robert Aik
man, pastor of a Presbyterian Church
in Elizabeth, New Jersey ; Rev. Fred
erick Charlton, pastor of a Baptist
Church in Sacramento, California;
Rev. Zebadia Mansfield, an Episcopal
clergyman; Rev. Henry Case, who
distinguished himself as Colonel of an
Illinois regiment during the late war;
and Rev. Mesers. Thomas L. Shipman,,
Daniel W. Lathrop, David R. Austin,
Edward W. Gilman, Myron N. Morris,
Daniel W. Havens, and other Well
known clergymen of New England.
Of laymen, there appear, such names
as Hon. Henry Haven, of New.
London, whose praise is, the
AN EXCUSE AGENCY.
Churches; George E. Porter. for a time
superintendent of the Sabbath-school
of Mount Vernon Church in Boston;
Alfred Thomas, now superintendent
of a Sabbath-school in Columbus,
Ohio; George E. Sterry, active in mis
sion-school movements in New York
City ; Jared W. Tracy, also of New
York, and other earnest workers for
the Master. Miss Fanny M. Caulkins,
the historian and poetess, was an early
and tried friend of, and teacher in, the
school; and the lamented Mrs. Sigour
ney was a member of the church, and
may have been in the Sabbath-school,
although her name is not mentioned
in its records.
When it is considered that Miss
Lathrop (afterward Mrs. Winslow),
the founder of.the, Norwich school, was
brought to Christ in childhood, con
necting. herself. .with the church at thir
teen years of age, the importance of
yolithful conversions is magnified in
every . thoughtful .mind. Her parents
were not. previously church members.
They came with her to Jesus. She
founded this school. for all time, and
became, herself, a pioneer in the foreign
mission work, into which she was fol
lowed by three. of her sisters. A
brother devoted himself to the Chris
tian ministry, a - ud is the laborer, who
reported the church and school in Ohio
growing so speedily out of the Norwich
enterprise, while another brother died
in college; preparing for the ministry.
T,he entire family of Miss Lathrop—
parents, brothers and sisters--all en.
rolled themselves under the banner of
Jesus. "Are there any," says Dr.
Arms, " who can still speak disparag
ingly of the conversion of children, or
of labors which look to this end, when
One of the founders of our' school fur
nishes, in her own history, such an
illtistration, of what one child may ac
complish, who enters the vineyard in
the early morning ?"--S S. Times.
HOW TO CONDUCT FAMILY WORSHIP
From a recent tract called "The Family
Altar," by Rev. If. R. Vincent, published
by our Publication Committee.]
We discover in much of 'our family
worship a want of tact and adaptation.
Many most excellent parents, with the
clearest appreciation of the duty of
household devotion, succeed in making
it one of the most unedifying of all
religious duties. Bear in mind that
it is not enough to make this exercise
barely tolerable, or to save it from
being positively unpleasant. On the
contrary; the family altar ought to be
a shrine to which the youngest of the
household should daily turn with joy,
and round which should gather the
sweetest associations of the day. But
look at a picture of it which has too
many counterparts in reality. The
family assemble solemnly and deliber
ately. This, at least, is well under
stood, that the 'housebold worship is
no trifling matter to be hurried through:
There is a deep and awed silence.
Even , the little prattler feels the influ ,
ence, and is hushed for the time. Then
the father. turns to the. family Bible,
and proceeds to read in regular course.
go-day he has happened upon the
kwenty-fourth chapter of Chronicles,
of the divisions of the sons of Aaron;
Nadab and Abihu, Eleazar and. Itha
mar ; how there were sixteen chief
men of the house of their fathers, and
eight among: the sons of Ithamar ; and
how they were divided by lot ; and
how , . the first lot came to Jehoiarib,
and the second to Jedaiah, and so on
through the whole twenty-four. Or,
it.may be, he . has come round to one'
of 'those strange prophetic visions in
Etekiel,,of.cherubim, coals and wheels
and wings and faces ; or 'to the Sub
lime and mysterious imagery of the
apocalypse; .or to one of those subtle
doctrinal disquisitions in the epistles.
To him it is all a field of ripe ears.'
Straight through it he goes, entering
with .the utmost zest into discussion,
or kindled, by the imagery, walking
resolutely over the hard names, with
just emphasis and due deliberation;
without a word of comment or expla-
nation, never imagining' that' every
one is not as much interested as him
self. The servants sit in reverential
ignorance. The older, sons and daugh
tera interchange amused glances , when
Borne unusual name or word occurs.
The children are lost at "once, and,
may be, ..fall into some by-pla,y among
themselves, which results in a smoth
ered laugh and a solemn reproof. Fi
nally the chapter is ended, and the
father kneels and offers a fervid, sol
emn prayer, expressing, perhaps, the
wants of most of the, adults present,
but dealing in a range of subjects and
expressions, of which the children
have little more conception than of
the chapte:r read.
BUt it will here be said at once, that
all men cannot be expected to render
their family services equally interest
ing. That many havo not the requi
site knowledge nor the ability to,
impart entertainingly what they have.
This objection is not without weight,
but is far from conclusive, since much
of it' rests on a misconception. The
interest and value of faibily worship
do not depend solely upon the learn
ing or ability of him who conducts it.
Nor should its interest be made to
centre in the gifts of a single person.
It should be diffused. The desired,
end will be much better secured by,
causing each one to feel that, he has
personal share in the matter; that the
devotions touch him individually, as
well as the family at large; that he
has something to do to contribute to
its interest and profitableness. Family
worship need by no means be confined
to reading and prayer, though these,
reverentially performed, are invalu
able in their effect. Why cannot the
family altar be made a place for the
mutual interchange of thought ? Why
cannot the superior advantages of cer
tain members of the household be
turned to the common good ? Why
should not the head of the family, as
well as the rest, be quickened by these
streams of fresh thought? Why may
not the very difficulties raised awaken
an interest that shall set even the chil
dren at consulting books, or convers
ing with their pastor or Sabbath-school
teacher, so that they may bring their
knowledge to bear at the next hour of
worship?
To-morrow, perhaps, you will read
the account of the healing of Jairus's
daughter, or the, parable of the ten
virgins. Set that bright-eyed boy or
girl at looking for some information
on oriental . weddings or funerals, and
when you, come together again, let
them tell you about the hired mourn
ers,. with , their clashing instruments
and hideous wailing, or show how our
Lord's parable finds its perfect coun
terpart in the marriage ceremonies of
the East. Make their common-school
education tributary to this. Press their
geography and history and grammar
into service. Make that lad of sixteen
or seventeen, well advanced in his col
lege studies, bring his Greek, Testa
ment into use, and give you the in
spired word fresh from its original.
Can you not have a map hung in your
room, or a. well-selected volume of
plaes and descriptions, such as Dr.
Thompson's "Land and Book ?"
Music, too, is a most powerful aux
iliary to the interest of family wor
ship. It will be strange if you .cannot
put your piano or cabinet organ to
gooduse here. The value of this ex
ercikikapparent in many ways.
Ist. It, is always attractive. There
are very few who do not love to sing,
or to hear singing when they cannot
sing themselves. ,
2d. Most of the members of a family
can join in it. Care should be taken
to facilitate this by the proper selec
tion of books, hymns and tunes. The
simpler the better. Where the family
is composed chiefly ollyoung children,
their Sabbath-school and even infant
class hymns are to be preferred to all
others. I
3d. We have the authority of Scrip
ture for making this a part of all our
worship. We are exhorted to praise
Jehovah with songs, with stringed
instruments and Organs.
4th. This is the best possible prepa
ration for harmonious, and intelligent
participation in the music of the sanc
tuary, especially in those churches
where this part of the worship is not
let out by contract to a quartette club,
and where, the one who - ",sings in
church" is not made the focus of the
frowns of the entire congregation.
The friends of that most salutary re
form of congregational. singing can
lay no surer foundation of success
than in encouraging family music at.
worship. ~
But, we cannot leave this subject
without a special word for the little
ones—the children. of four, five and
six years of ~ a ge. 01, how, seldom
does the family worship touch them
at any point. How many years do
they kneel each morning beside the,
mother, studying the pattern of her
dress or the figures of the carpet, or
peeping between their fingers at the:
gambols of the household pets, before
they grow into . a , consciousness that
the family devotions have any rela
tions to them.
Hence there, should, in all cases, be
a part of the family worship especially,
for them; and if the family consists
of little, children only, it would be
well to conduct the devotions chiefly
with a reference to them. Instead of
reading a chapter, simply because it is,
is course, select for the- little ones
the more picturesque poitions of the
Scriptures. Tell them some Bible
story. Have some picture at hand to
illustrate it. Always try to draw
some simple moral lesson from the
story, respecting those great element
ary truths which even very young
children can understand, the greatness
of God, how he sees and knows all
things, how he loves us, and loves
little children, is pleased when we do
right, and displeased when we sin;
the wickedness of disobedience and
falsehood and the like. The smallest
child must be made to feel that he has
a part in the family devotions. In the
prayer, it will be well to embody
some simple and comprehensive peti
tions, in the simplest possible lan
guage, which may make the children
feel that they are brought close to
God at the family altar. A good prac
tice is the uniting of the whole family
in the repetition of the Lord's _Prayer.
These things will work. We have
seen them tried. We have been in
families when the little child of four
years would come bringing the Bible
in its arms, and begging to hear some
thing from it, and when it was one of
the greatest of the day's disappoint
, ments to be refused. And the story
of the morning has lodged in the little
heart, and been carried into its plays,
and been made the subject of its talk,
showing that the blessed. seed of the
word was resting in the tender fur
rows, giving hope of a preCians har
vwkAn the future.
THE CLOSING SCENE.
BY THOMAS BUCHANAN READ
The following is pronounced by the Westmin
ster Reams to be unquestionably the finest
American poem ever written :
Within the sober realms of leafless trees,
The russet year inhaled the dreamy air;
Like some tanned reaper in his hours of ease,
When all the fields are lying brown and bare.
The gray barns looking from their hazy hills
O'er the dun waters widening in the -vales,
Sent down the air a greeting to the mills,
On the dull thunder of alternate flails.
All sights were mellowed and all sights sub
dued,
The bills seemed further and the stream sang
low,
As in a dream the distant woodman hewed,
His winter log with many a muffled blow.
The embattled forests, erewhile armed with gold,
Their banners bright with every martial hue,
Now stood like some sad, beaten host of old,
Withdrawn afar in Time's remotest blue.
On sombre wings the vulture tried his flight:
The dove scarce heard his singing mate's com
plaint;
And, like a star slow drowning in the light,
The village church-Vane seemed to pale and
faint.
The sentinel cock upon the hillside crew—
Crew thrice—and all was stiller than before;
Silent, till some replying warder blew
His alien horn, and then was heard no more.
Where erst the jay within the elm's tall crest
Made garrulous trouble around her unfledged
young ;
And where the oriole hung her swaying nest,
By every light wind like a censer swung ;
Where swung the noisy martins of the eaves,
The busy swallows circling ever near—
Forboding, as the rustic mind believes,
An early harvest and a plenteous year 5
Where every bird that waked the vernal feast
Shook the sweet slumber from its wings at
morn,
To warn the reaper of the rosy east—
All now was sunless, empty, and forlorn.
Alone, from out the stubble, piped the quail;
And croaked the crow through all the dreary
globm
Alone the pheasant, drumming in the vale,
Made.echo in the distant cottage loom.
There - was no bud, no bloom upon the bowers ;
The spiders wove their thin shrouds night
by night;
The thistledown, the only ghost of flowers,
Sailed slowly by—passed noiseless out of
sight.
Amid all this—in this most dreary air,
And where the woodbine shed upon the porch
Its crimson leaves, as if the year stood there,
t Firing the floor with its inverted torch ;
Amid all.this—the centre of the scene,
The white-haired matron, with monotonous
tread,
Plied the swift wheel, and with her joyless mien
Sat like a fate, and Instated the flying thread.
She had known sorrow..-:He hextwalked with
her, • •
Oft supped, and broke with her the ashen
crust,
And in the dead leaves still she heard the stir
Of his thick, mantle trailing in the dust.
While yet her cheek was bright with summer
bloom,
Her country summoned, and she gave her all
And twice War bowed to her, his sable plume—
Re-gave the sword to rest upon the wall.
Re-gave the sword but not the hand that drew
And struck for liberty the dying blow ;
Nor him who, to his sire and country true,
Fell 'mid the ranks of the invading foe ;
Long, but not loud, the droning wheel went on,
Like the low rnurmnr'of a hive at noon :
Long, but not loud, the memory of the gone
Breathed through her lips a sad and tremu
lons tune.
At last the thread was snapped—her head was
bowed;
Life dropped the distaff through her hand
serene;
And loving neighbors smoothed her careful
shroud, „
While death and winter closed the autumn
scene.
A JEWISH MARRIAGE SERVICE.
Sabbath afternoon we stepped into
the, new and magnificent Jewish tem
ple, and found ourselves so favored as
to see a marriage ceremony performed,
which we might, doubtless, have seen
in America just as well, but which had
never falren to our lot. It was not
very peculiar in many respects, but
in others quite laughable. It was still
broad dayiight, but there were some
dozen lights burning on either side the
altar, which doubtless belongs to the
ceremony. In the altar stood the
"'marriage canopy," a kind of square
tent covered over with crimson damask,
printed with gilt and huna ° with gold
fringe. Under this stood bridegroom
and bride, with several attendants, the
priest with a peculiar cap on the head,
and an assistant who wore a three
cornered black hat and seemed to be a
kind of leader of ceremonies. Not
only all the men wore their hats, but
the bridegroom retained his also.
After a long speech, a mixture of Ger
man and Hebrew, to the bridegroom
and bride respectively, and the placing
of the ring on the finger of the bride,
all of which was nothing peculiar, the
priest began singing and chanting
some long ceremony, to which ever
and anon the choir of male voices re
sponded, often with a prolonged amen,
and sometimes with a longer response.
But the priest continued loud and long,
and one could but feel that his main
effort was to sing or rather halloo at
the very top of his very strong voice,
so that often the sound of his voice
alone seemed too much =for this great
temple. There was considerable sly
convulsive laughing about me—likely
from gentiles—and I felt not a little
like participating. The frequent re
sponses of the choir were beautiful.
After the priest pronounced a blessing
upon them and a few friends had greet
ed them, the couple, preceded by the
officer with the three-cornered hat,
walked down the middle aisle, follow
ed by a group of very handsome and
richly-dre,ssed Jewish maidens, with
splendid. black eyes.— Correspondent
Pittsburgh. Advocate.
EVERY temptation is an opportunity
of getting nearer to God.