El poetry. GODS WAYS Ohl It is hard to work for Cod, To rise and take his part Upon the battle-field of earth, And not sometimes lose heart Ile hides himself so wondrously, As though there were no God; lie le least seen when all thd powers Of ill ere most abroad. Or lie deserts us at the hour The fight is almost lost; ?- Anil seems toleave us to ourselves Just whon we need him most. 111 masters good good seems to change To tIl with greatest ease; ' ( 'And, worst of all, the good with good Is at cross purposes. It Is not so; but so it looks, And w e lose course° then ; And doubts will eome•if God both kept Ills prornises to men. Ah ! God is other that) we think ; His ways are far above, Far above reason's height. and reached Only by child-like love. The look, the fashion of God's ways Love's lifelong study are: She can bebold and guess, and net, When reason would not dare She has n prudence of her own Iter step Is firm and free, Yet there Is cautlrdis science, too In her simplicity. Workman of nod! (4W not heart, But learn what Chnt Is like; And in the darkest bat tle-field Thou shall know where to strike. Oh, hloss'd Is ho to whom Is given TIM instinct that can tell +That find is on the field when Ito Is most inclsible! And bless'd is he who ran divine Where real right doth And dares to take the side that seems Wrong to nutu's blindfold eye! Oh..learn to scorn the ways of men Oh, learn to live with Ood For Jesus won the world through sham And beckons thee his road. God's glory is n wondrous thing, Most strange in all its ways, And of all things nn earth, least like' What men agree to praise. Muse on Ms justice, downcast soul, Muse and take better heart; Ba-k with Woo angel to the field, Good luck shall crown thy part. God's justice is a bed where we Our anxious hearts may lay, And, weary with ourselves. may sleep Our discontent away. feltrt •Tait. Erma Graham's Magazine. THE BRIGGS' BABY By ELLA RODMAN CHURCH Lot well-enough alone.—OLD MAXIM It was a forlorn•looking little object, seem ing as though it had got into a tangle, and could not get. out again—an undistinguishable mass of nothing in ,particular, whose chief amusement appeared to be that of digging its eyes out with its fists—and yet the Whole house was in an uproar about it; and not only the house but the village too. The Briggs' Baby, to be brief, was an object of universal admiration. Martha Briggs was yet scarcely more than a child herself, and as to Sam every one knew that ho had only just completed his tweuty-first year. Uncles, aunts, and cousins, flocked in from all direc tions to gaze upon the wonder and detect in its ittle, shapeless features a striking resem blance to / father or mother, or both. Sam held his head at least three inches higher than be fore the advent of that remarkable In}by; and Martha evidently considered all the 'extrava gant praises bestowed upon the queer little piece of hUmanity as not the half of what it deserved. The large, old-fashioned house directly op posite the 13riggs', belonged to,Timothy Corn wall. Timothy, was a rich man; he owned other houses and numerous broad acres— nearly all of which had been acquired by hard work and careful saving. His better-Ina was a perfect mirror •of her husband; to work and to save find been the objects of her life. They had both done this for twenty years; and nowAhey were the richest people in Hornets ville. Every thing about the premises was neat, regular, and plentiful; and it, was the kind of place that a traveller in the stage-coach would have InVoluntarily noticed for its air of old• fashioned comfort and luxuriance; each sepe• rate apple,or pumpkin upon theJarm seeming to grow in a proper, regular way, and every Army leafing out in the most orderly manner. OneLeduld tell, at a glnuce > lhat there" were no chihtikm there to put things in disorder— no little, muddy feet to conic pattering in upon Mrs: CprnWalPs immacula - te floors—or childish band to dillarfange the methodically-placed tables and chairs., No, when l ids neighbors spoke of Timothy Cornwall to strangers, they nveriably added that he bad 'neither chick nor child;' and nerdiewe.and neices began to , be quite anxious about the extent of their fa vor with Uncle Timothy • ' Mrs. CornVall had been sitting' with Mar tha; and she crossed the road to her own dwelling with a thoughtful step, and sat down in her bonnet, by the sitting-room fire, in a complete state of abstraction. She had seen babies before—plenty of them; and yet, some how, the Briggs',baby seemed to arouse a new and unaccustomed train of thought. Yes, Timothy was now hard on to sixty, and she was hard on to fifty; they had worked, and saved and were rich; they could now fold their hands and do nothing, if they liked, for the rest of their lives. But for *hat had they been working and saving ? She didn't see but that it was to make their relations glad when they diedt'and hereyrs. Cornwall gave a large stick of wood - IV/unnecessary push with her foot. They h i nd an immense house, with no one in it but themselves and Sally, whose province was entirely confined to the kitchen; and, somehow or other, it began to seem kind of lonely. She didn't know as she got rid of trouble, either; for, when anything was the matter with anybody, they always sent for het:. 'She hadn't any children,' th ey said; and on that account, she was expected to be at people's beck whenever they chose to call. Martha seemed so happy, and Sam looked so proud of her and the baby—she really believed that Tim would think a great deal more of her if they had children around them. She sat twisting the strings of her bonnet, nod gazing so intently into the tire that her husband entered unperceived; but, stealing round behind her, he bestowed Upon her still red lips a kiss, the warmth of which showed that his wife had certainly done him injustice, us he said— 'Why, mother, what.'n the mutter?' as he noticed the cloud upon her brow. Now this title of 'mother' bestewod upon his wife, was one of Tim's peculiarities that afforded an inexhaustible subject of mirth to his friends. By what species, of.mental hallu cination, he could ever regard her in thai light, was certainly a mystery; but it was known to be an undeniable fact, that within a week after their marriage, lie adopted that style of address, and be continued it ever since. To her husband's great surprise, :Nlrs. Cornwall burst into tears. She was rarely thus affected; and Timothy began to fear that something more than usual was the mat. ter. To all his entreaties, Mrs, Cornwall re mained for a long time silent; but when, nt length, ho had obtained a glimpse of her feel ings,.and found that she was actually jealous of Martha's baby, Timothy indulged in a hear• ty laugh, partly from a sense of relict' that it was no worse. But, observing, from his wife's clouded face, that she was in no laughing humor, ho good-naturedly elongated his own visage to a sober • expression: and proposed holding a consultation as to what was to -be done. The good man was extremely puzzled at the strange turn that his wife had taken; and thinking that she needed something to divert her mind, proposed a quilting-party. 'I aint agoin' to have any more - quiltin'- parties,' replied Mrs. Cornwall, with consider: able asperity; 'there's the house turned topsy turvy—lots of cake made, and eggs and cream. vaniallin' like wildfire—forward youngsters puttin' their noses in everywhere—Sally gt7um blin' for a fortnight afterwardand much thanks Igit for't all. Don't talk to Inc of quiltin' parties, or any other parties !' Timothy had made himself comfortable with his pipe; and now sat ruminating amid vast clouds of smoke. lie was not given to repin. ing, but his wife's words had set him a-thinkin; and ho became wrapped in a waking dream, that was infinitely delightful. Childish hands clasped his imp43 , —soft, childish cheeks were pressed close to his—and childish tones rang out in glee, diffusing unusual music through the old 1101113 e. Twenty—nineteen—yes, Timothy, Jr. would now be 'a likely young man, - who could take half the taro of the farnAlf his shoulders, and go on innumerable sleighi s ng parties with the prettiest girls in the county; and Rebecca, (ho would call her Rebecca after his wife,) he saw her a beautiful and dptilul daughter, on whose account the young men were troubling him continually—but be would be stern with them, and make them keep their distance— they were none of them half good ettougli'for Rebecca—he'd show them—but the pipe had gone out; and Timothy awoke to realities somewhat saddened, ma watched his wife as she silently arranged the tea-table, that looked so lonely only laid for two. There should be Some little, high-chairs there ; and china mugs whose gilt letters traced the wards, -To tny' Son;' or •Th my Daught er ! „ The meal was eaten more silently than,usual; and Timothy Cornwall and his wife began to feel a void in .9,toir hearts—an empty, aching void, that- woild not be silenced. Mrs. Cornwall went often to the oppoSito house ; ;iud sat'there tending the baby while gu`taki.zact ilsTa3-10)1 leonelntled not to cry; and amused itself paii• „ • , Martha, with 'her bright eyes and. rolled up sleeves, flitted hero and there—now, plunged ling at Mrs Cornwall's cap. up to the elbows in flour, in the manufacture Timothy gazed upon it with the utmost yearning ; lie fairly longed to take the child of one of Sam's favorite dishes, or singing in his arms, and 'yet ho didn't dare to say DD. through the house, broom in hand, as she swept and dusted rooms that seemed alre tidy Ile was afraid his wife would,.laugh at aim; he couldn't imagine howthe held it so nicely ; swept and dusted to the last degree of ,neat and he sat. there watching and endeavoring to ness. Sltd found her neighbors extremely use learn something. I .lle tried all manner of de -611; and the baby became so accustomed to Mrs. Cornwall, that it was.perfectly satisfied vices to attract the child's attention ; but it to remain in her charge. -loolted upon his efforts With such evident con 'l do wish Martha, wouldn't be so dreadful tempt, that Timothy really felt hurt. choice of that baby !' exclaimed Mrs. Timothy At length, watching his opportunity, he . to her husband, on her return from one of snatehed'it suddenly from his wife's arms, and these visits; 'she really seems to be afraid began dancing. s violently around the room with that we'll eat it, or do something with it! I it. But Timothy was not accustomed to ba wanted it over here to spend the day--I ,hies ;,,ho handled the child awkwardly ; and thought it would be vo nice to have it her e by his violence, it set up a cry that fairly ter• for once—it's a dear little thing, and knows rifled him.. . h me as well as it knows its Mother; but Martha Timothy listened meekly to his wife's reproof and sat down in a cool perspiration, while she opened her eyes as wide as saucers, and said that she et uldn't think of such . a thing at pros- endeavored to sooth the fractious infant. But it...would not be soothed; its feelings had been out!' v 'lt would be nice,' said Tim, re fl ect i ve l y ; very much injured; and it tried so loud and he having a vision of a.model baby that nev- steadily, that they began to fear Martha would of hear heir it, and come posting back to execute er cried, behaved with all the consideration of' , a grown person, nail went quietly to sleep summary vengence upon them. ' when people were too busy to attend to it.— I declare,' exclaimed poor Mrs. Cornwall, 'Yes,' said he, 'I should really like to have it -panting with her exertions, filter trotting, and hero.' walking, and tossing the child, until she sank Mrs. Cornwall eat nursing her wrath iu the rocking chair; and thinking what nn migrate. ful creature Martha was, that she wouldn't lend them the baby for a little while ! The months wore on, and the Briggs' baby had got to be quite an old story. It now seemed like a kitten that has commenced growing, and lost its, prettiness; except, that 'it 1V11,9 a fat, good natured little thing, and daily increasing in strength and beauty. It was now ten months old ; aspired to eat and drink like other people ; and, as its father said, behaved in all respects, like a christinii.' Sam and Martha were not much given to jaunting—it took time and money ; but quite suddenly one morning, they made up their minds to attend a State Fair, about fifty miles off ; for, as Sum said, •lie jest wanted to see if them pumpkins, and squashes, and things, recta any such great shakes, after all.' They would be gone but one night,—and af ter considerable hesitation, Martha listened favorably to Mrs. Cornwall's proposal of ta king charge of the baby. Sam laughed at his wife's fears, and declared that .the young one was well enough in such hands ; the only danger was, that having tried the delights of, having a baby in the house, they might insist upon keeping it altogether ' And Martha ful ly agreed with him in the latter idea. They would take the afternoon train, and return the next evening; and it was a settled thing that•the baby was to be left with Mrs. Cornwall. . When Timothy came home to dinner, he found his wife radiant with MUG'S. She in formed him that they were going to have a visitor, and told him to guess who it was. 'l'm sure, I don't know,' he replied, half :lbsen tly. 'Well, guess,' rejoined his wife, quite pro voked at his indifference. 'l'm sure you're Yankee enough for that !' ''"But Timothy's perceptions were very much clouded : and, when in despair, his wife was obliged to divulge the secret, he seemed fairly staggered,by it. 'Me baby.' he repeated. 'are you sure it's quite well? Maybe it'll have a tit, or some thin'.'. 'Nonsense,' replied his wife; 'all babies don't have fits—Martha's never had n fit in its life.' Timothy was rather fearful ; but, being re assured by his wife, bo ventured to giro him self up to all the pleasure of the anticipated enjoyment. But buddenly his anxiety assumed a new form 'How are you going to feed it? he inquired; 'wont it want a teapot or somethin' The expression of intense contempt in Mrs. Cornwall' eye, as she repeated the word 'tea pot,' effectually silenced her husband, who meekly admitted 'he didn't know much about babies.' Martha came over herself, frith the baby care - fully bundled up, - to reiterate her charges; and almost bewildered good Mrs. Cornwall with the multiplicity of diwtion L s. Timothy listened in considerable stirs; at first, gazed upon the baby as though afraid that it might hurt him. The object of all this solici tude looked remarkably well satisfied with`the arrangement, and parted from its mother without a single . whimper. ;Didn't I tell you it was a darling ?' said Mrs. Cornwall, as-she sat down to untie its cloak and hood. ' The, baby laughed and crowed, gazed from Timothy to the fire, and from the fire to Tim othy, nod sucked its thumb in perfect content ment. The old gentlemen shook his newspaper at It, but the baby started at the sudden noise; find then Timothy .started because the baby did, and looked no frightened, that his wife laughed at him. The child was playful, how ever, and after puckering tip it(mouth a little, down from sheer exhaustion, 'this is worse than ehurnin'-day even, or bakin' day either! I couldn't feel more badly, if I'd done the hardest day's work I ever done in my life.' The baby was tired out, too, nod lay sob bing on her knee—:Timothy regarding it with a rueful conntenance, anki wondering what in the name of common sense possssed it. Af terwhile, the sobs nearly ceased—the tearful eyes were closed— and with an ejaculation of thankfulness, I%lrs. Cornwall deposited 'he child in its cradli., which had been brought over from the other house. She rocked it and ' hushed it twice as much as was necessary, for fear that it was not really asleep ; and frown ed down nll her husband's attempts at speak ing, until be became quite impatient, and looked upon the baby as something of a bore. Timothy obeyed his wife's: beckoning nod, and stood beside the cradle. 'lsn't it lovely ?' she whispered—and he gave a fervent assent. The round cheek was flushed with its late excitement—one or two tear-drops still trem bled on the long lashes— and the tiny, dim pled band rested, like a rose-leaf, on the cov erlet. The childless couple stood regarding the sweet picture with a feeling of indescriba . - ble tenderness; and the infant slumbered on, undisturbed by their low whisperings. Leaving the cradle and its precious con contents in her husband's charge, Mrs. Corn wall went to the kitchen 'to superintend some arrangements for feeding the baby. Martha had brought over a paper of arrow-root, the boiling of which had been entrusted to Sally; but that damsel, having cooked it with a most homcepathic allowance of water, had manufac tured a compound that tasted like burnt pud ding. Mrs Cornwall was fairly discouraged. 'lt's a great bother, that baby,' muttered Sally, 'cookie' up messes jist to throw away— and then to hear this little varmint squeal! My sakes why the pigs is nothin' to it!' Timothy sat meditating by the cradle, until, to his great delight, the baby opened its eyes. It was now perfectly good-natured, and smiled at him and sucked its thumb, ns though it had quite forgotten its late wrongs. He held out hands—the baby manifested a decided dispo sition to accept them—and the next moment, the delighted Timothy, with the child tightly grasped in a highly novel and astonishing man ner, paraded up and down the room with all the feelings of a conqueror. The baby was satisfied, and looked at him approvingly. It seemed to be particularly fond of snatch ing at thitigs, rind, having cornered Timothy somewhere near the fire'Lphice, made frantic griieps at an ancient china bowl, that had de cended to Mrs. Cornwall from her great grandmother. Every morning did the good woman dust 'and polish it with'-f 'reverential care ; it was so thin as to be almprt transpar ent, and an oh z ject of especial admiration to all their visitors. Timothy gently disengaged the baby's hands, and tied to divert its attention but the little tyrant twisted its lip in such a manner that made its guardian shake in his shoes, and he felt very much in the same predicament as does a man who is perched on a fence with a tiger Riveting him on one side, and a lion on the other. The baby struck the first notes, and and Timothy coward as he was, with a nervous drew near again to the enchanted spot. The catastroi ho soon followed—and Timo thy awoke from his blindness, to hear his wife exclaiming— , 'I wouldn't have it, broken for the world I' as sho gazed sorrowfully upon the shattered fragments-Land thcbaky screaming over the ru ins! drelare,' continued she, half crying, almost Fish that Martha had taken the baby with her-LI had no idea'of its behaving in this way_!' • 'That's jilt tho tricks of babies,' observed Sally, who' had been drawn from the kitelte9' by the uproar, 'you never know , how they tisr goin' to behave sometimes,. or ,inoWlimes, utter a•eutlin' us like Old Scratch, himself-- and then pretendin' to look .o wart, as if butter wouldn't molt in their mouth. I know 'em—Miss Briggs' welcome 7 to her t , aby, for all me.' But Martha would have said that Sally was a souredspinster of forty, viewed other peo ple's happiness through a perverted reedimn, and was prompted entirely by mile -J. in her unamiable reflections. Sally banged the high chair, which i,ad also . been sent over for the baby's acconnubdion, as she drew it np to the table ; and 1001, r•d with ill-concenled scorn upon Timothy, who Wbe mlutlting his wires thimble on n pair of vcissors, foi the amusement of thirresponsibili ty. llaby graciously recoveted from its displeas ure at the china bowl for being broken, and requested by signs, that the sugar-dish and preserves should be banded to it immediately. Mre Cornwall answered this demand by pla cing. it carefully in the high chair, and her husband seated himself beside it with ranch satisfaction. What should the baby have to eat, was the next question: Mrs, Cornwall was very much at a loss what to substitute for the arroir-root, and the child seemed in a fair way of getting no supper nt all.' At length, a bright idea :truck her, while regarding a dish of apple sauce—that tills soft enough, in all concience— and Timothy imme diately heaped a liberal allowanq upon the young visitor's plate. The baby liked it, that was very evident—Mrs. Cornwall was famous for her apple-sauce—and it drbblei in the plate with its - little fat fingers, and colliveyed the palatable compound to its mouth with as tonishing rapidity. The two old people sat gazing upon the child in a sort of delighted surprise.:w though they had not expected to see it eat; nod final ly, 'Fitnothy placed a crust of brewd in the little hand, in order to diVersify the perfor mances. Poor man! what ever he did, was done with the best intention, but somehow or other, it-always seemed to be the thing that lie should not do; for, after putting the crust into its mouth, and attacking it in a manner that delighted its entertainers, the youthful scion of the house of Briggs suddenly became grave, awl exhibited symptoms of choking. Timothy's evil genius again beset him,•and he lifted the cup of milk and wafer tn the child's lips—it was swallowed the wrong w and the baby began to grow black in aid; face. 'For mercy's sake!' exclaimed 'Mis. Corn wall, as the child gasped for breath, 'pat its buck, quick, or it will choke to death!' Timothy putted with frightened vigor, his wife patted, and Sally, too, lent her services With a zeal that looked very much us though she considered this a fine opportunity to re venge herself upon the baby. been pounded within au inch of its lite, lie child ~ntupped elwking iu self-tlOeuee; but rimothy coutinued to pat, as though resolvl.d to pre vent all future accidents. Mrs. Cornwall wiped the perspiration from her face, and at down consideratill sobered. •For pity's sake,' said she, •give it nothing but apple-sauce—!hat's safe enough, b r 1 took out all the cores myself•. I wish to gracious Maitha'd collie and take it, while it. is alive Another supply of apple•suuce was placed before it, and baby finished its supt.tr without any more mishaps. When the candles were lighted, the visitor became sleepy and cross; and, after sending Sally up and „down, much to that damsel's displeasure, to be sure that the room w as warm and comfortable, Mrs. Cornwall wrapped the baby.in its cloak and hoed, and ht r husband conveying the cradle, they proceeded up stairs to put their charge to bed. A roariiig fire, a luxury to which they were quite timieustomed in their sleeping apartlitent, had been made on baby's account; and Timothy deekired-that the room felt like an oven. The undressing was a complicated business; first, Mrs. Cornwall took Things off, and then upon bolding a consultation with Timothy, she put them on again, fearing that it n6glit take cold; and baby, indignant at being, thus trifled with, rubbed its eyes with its fists, ;iii squirm ed about in nit uncontrollable fit of passion. •There—there!' said Mrs. Cornw:dl sooth ingly, 'hush, now—that's a darling!' But baby wouldn't hush, and kicked and screamed: while the husband and wife sat re .. gatding it in perfect bewilderment. ..I know what that young 'on vants,' ob served Safly, whO stood by the doCr with an expression 'of interme - disgust --- upon - ber - fea= -- tares; 'a few good slaps would bring it to its serves mighty quick!' This, however, was not to be thought of; Mrs. Cornwall rocked vigorously, with the baby on her lap—Timothy keeping up - an in dustrious accompaniment to hei. cobsiant t}t len i gth,, the' baby became too sleepy to cry, and dropped oft' 'liken it 'was , deposited in the cradle in triumph; and mini a sigh of weariness, its nurses sank into their respective seats by the fire. '1 feel dreadful tired,' said Mrs. Cornwall, 'kind, of aching like the rheumatism.' 'So do I,' rejoined her. husband; 'and yet (Continued on seventh pnge.)
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