BY JAS. CLARK.
[From the Union Magazine.]
Christ in the Glarden.
BY MRS. C. L. M. MILLS,
He trod the garden—sad and lone—
fie, whose whole life was one of pain—
And in His agony h. prayed,
While sweat-drops fell like summers rain.
Those drops, oh, man ! thy life-long tears
Would scarce repay the treachery—
And yet He pardons, He who died,
Who suffered to atone for thee !
He trod the garden—Those who came
At His command, together slept,
Ay, those whose task it should have been
To wake and Weep, no vigils kept.
How sad—how sad ! to find the few,
The chosen of His little band,
Sluinh'rim4 thus softly, when His words
'Foretold the final hour at hand.
Twice to the sleepers' side He drew,
Rebuking them in gentle tone;
But heavier weighed their eyelids down,
And still He watched and prayed alone.
An hour passed by—He call'd—again—W
But no rebuke His words expressed ;
4 , Sleep on," in music strains Ile said,
Sleep on, sleep on, and take your rest."
The time bud come—the garden fair,
Where that meek sufferer humbly prayed,
Became the scene of strife and blood,
And basely there he was betrayed !
Offending man, strive, strive with faith,
To make atonement for thy guilt,
For 'twos for thee, and thee alone,
The Saviour's precious blood was spilt.
'[From Grahatn's Magazine.]
LUCK IS EVERY THING,
BY JOSEPH U. CHANDLER
The ctitirse of true love, it is said, did never
yet run smoth ; and those who have had expe
rience on that turnpike of the aff,ctions, or rath
er railroad, as it is soon run over, bear testimo
ny to the jolts, "running nit," and mashing up
alive, of al! which the pots speak. We have no
great taste, in this time of politics and perplex
ities, to dabble in "fancy stocks," and risk our
reputation ror gravity; yet the illustration of an
aphorism of admitted truth, may be considered
seasonable, and the moral deduced from the il
lustration may compensate sonic for the trouble
of reading it.
In the year 1811—we remember the time
well, b2canie a part of the incidents of the story
were conroeted with a great event, an event not
likely to be forgotten—well, in the year 1814
a young man, who to a visionary mind, and a
consequent want of employment, added a most
desperate affection far a young lady, quite too
good for him, if business pursuits were alone
considered, but just his match, if confiding affec
tion, purity of mind, and innocence of purpose,
are the reward of large endowments, strict in
ttgrity, and desire for honest competence, with
out the means of obtaining it.
There was no mare pleasing young man in the
thriving village than Henry Bradford; and eve-'
ry body agreed with his neighbors, that he was
the most agreeable person and the best educated
about. But he did not stu.ly law, he despised
medicine and did not take to the church ; he had
frequently thought of “merchandize," but that
required a capital, which he could not raise, and
so he did not go ahead though he Was forever on
the brink of Some wonderful success, which he
certainly would have secured, if he had only en
tered upou the enterprise.
Mary Carver evidently loved Henry Bradford;
for knowing that, excepting his handsome person,
pleasing manners and good character, he had
nothing to offer, she would not have been deaf
to the offers of so many young men, whose char
acter and position rendered them desireable to
the family. These offers were repeated so of
ten, and hints so strong were given to Mr. and
Mrs. Carver, that it was deemed proper after a
serious deliperation in cabinet council, toadmon
ish their daughter that henry was in nn business,
and was not likely to be in a way to maintain a
family.
Mrs. Carver opened the diplomacy with the
daughter, and, after two or three conferences
retreated under the laugh of itlary, who declared
that she did not doubt that Heurywould one day
be rich enough to tette care of both, for he had a
dream that lie should be. Mrs. Carver had no
disposition to laugh in such a serious mission,
and no desire to be angry with her daughter.
Mary, however, knew that when her father
came to nefotiate, she would have to use other
arguments than laughter, and therefore she ad
monished Henry of the approaching storm. 'Hen
ry thought of it two or three days, an unusual
time for him to devote to any thing like his per
tonal affairs.
At length the family was honored by a for
mal offer from a clergyman in a neighboring town.
Ile was learned, pious, rich, and respected, and
such an offer was not to be slighted. It was
not slighted. Old Mr. Carver took the subject
to heart, and Mrs. Carver gave her sheer muslin
a double clear starching upon the very idea of
her becoming mother-in-law to a minister.
Mary pondered these things in her heart. She
saw the improbability of Henry's ever attaining
a situation that would warrant matrimony. She
was listening to her mother's account of his
ward of application to business, his apparent dis
regard of attaining competence, and of his sifter
luck of what is called common sense; and the
old lady concluded her homily with a remark,
that she believed Henry Bradford would think
more of a dream of 'wealth twice repeated, than
of the best prospeets that ever presented for bus
iness preferment.
‘,°A.Aldingbon
"Mother," said Mary, "Henry is not a fool."
"No," said Mrs. Carver, hesitatingly, "he is
not a fool, certainly."
"Why, then do you talk so of him?" asked
Mary. "But he is coming•now," continued the
girl.
"Speak no him, plainly, my child," said Mrs.
Carver.
Henry came with his usual pleasant humor
and sat down by Mary, and, after a few words,
he perceived that something was wrong.
Mary made no answer, for she was a little
mortified at the ludicrous turn which her moth
er had given to Henry's rather dreamy proposi
tion, though she had never heard him build any
castles in the air out of any such materials.
"Mary ," said he, "have you been reading the
Sorrows of Werther V'
“No, Henry, but I have been listning to moth
er's sorrows—her lamentations over you. She
says—"
"Never mind what she says, Mary, as I per
ceive it is not very good, just listen to what I
have to tell."
what is it, Henry? I hope it is
good."
"Excellent, capital ; it will be delightful."
"Do, then, tell me what it is."
"Why, last Sunday night I Dreamed that—"
"Dreamed!" exclaimed Mary, with a most
dolorous sigh.
"Aye, dreamed."
“—Well, go on."
"I dreamed that I had drawn ten thousand dol
larsin the Ply mouth Beach Lottery."
"Well, what then'!"
"Why, I dreamed the same on Monday night
and on Tuesday night, and the number was 5,4,
3,2. Well, I sent right to Boston on Wednes
day, and purchased the ticket, and here it is;
you shall keep it, Mary, and when I go up to
Boston for the prize, you shall go with me."
Poor Mary smiled mournfully and reproach
ingly. Henry left the house and went home,
satisfied that he had made a right disposition of
the ticket.
Day after day did Henry watch at the Post
Office, to read the first report of the drawing;
but day after day passed without the desired in
formation.
At lenght one of the young men was heard to
remark, that Henry Bradford had shot out of the
Post Office, as if he had received some special
intelligence.
"Mary," said Henry, “here is your tether's
paper, and look at the returns. No. 5,4,3,2,
TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS !"
Mary turned pale—the news was unexpected
"Let's go to Boston," said Henry, "and get
the money."
"The prizes are payable thirty days after
drawing," said Mary, looking at the bottom of
the ticket.
That night Mary told her mother of Henry's
luck.
Mrs. Carver seemed rather startled.
, Are you not pleased, mother 7" asked Mary ;
“do you wish to oppose other obstacles to our
union
"Mary," said Mrs. Carver, "do you not rec
collect the most uncompromising hostility which
your father has to lotteries—his utter abomina
tion of money thus distributed I This prize will
be worse to him than poverty. Ever since they
refused to make him manager in the Plymouth
Beach Lottery, he has set down the whole as
gambling, and every prize as the devil's gift for
mischief; and to say the truth most people be
gin to hold opinions with him."
"Why, mother, every body did not ask to be
made a manager, in the lottery."
“Islo,no ; but people may, like your father, ar
rive at correct conclusions from selfish consid
erations, and good opinions may become general
without any special motive for the change."
The next day Mary gave back to Henry his
ticket, with an account of her conversation with
her mother.
Henry was mortified at the result; lie under
stood and appreciated the feelings of the "old
folks" and, in any other person's case he might
have approved of it.
"But what does your father want I" said Hen
ry. "Does he suppose that the mode adopted to
build churches, endow schools and finish public
works, is too impure to supply the needy purse
of one who wishes to be his son-in-law He is
much more nice than wise."
"My father," said Mary, "may not think him
self called upon to be as particular about what
concerns the public charities, corporations, or
different individuals, as he is and is bound to be,
in what concerns the respectability of his own
family."
“But if I acquire wealth by lawful meams- , -"
“Henry, father never asked that you should be
wealthy: he thought it proper, and he makes it
a condition of our marriage that you should have
some respectable business, since you have not
wealth."
"And your father is right," said Henry "but
bow am Ito get clear of the odium of my lotte
ry prize, I can neither see nor guess."
"Perhaps you will dream it through," said
Mary archly.
"I can dream of nothing but schooners, brigs,
and ships," said Henry.
44 011, if you only owned a good vessel," said
Mary, "I do not know but father would almost
forgive its coming as a prize."
"A prize to a privateer," said Henry, "but
not in a lottery."
Henry wandered down toward the wharvesand
HUNTINGDON, PA,, TUESDAY, MAY 29, 1849.
unoccupied ship yards. The war allowed of lit
tle or no work among the ship builders. The
hull of a fine brig lay at the wharf. She had
been launched a year and there was none to pur
chase her. She was too clumsy for a privateer.
"Mr. Holmes," said Henry, "what is that ves
sel worth 1"
"She is worth twenty thousand dollars," said
the owner and builder, "she cost that as she is,
and will bring twenty-five thousand the very
hour peace is declared."
"Would you like the money for her at a cash
price 1"
"Nothing could be more acceptable. But there
are not fifteen thousand dollars in the county."
The remarks of Mary about her father's re
spect for a ship owner had been running in Hen
ry's head ever since they were uttered, and he
beckoned aside the owner.
"Mr. Holmes," said Henry, "I have a com
mission to fulfil, and, as you kuow I am not
much of a business man, I must ask you to con
sider a proposition which I am about to make to
you, and to answer me explicitly."
"Let me hear your proposition."
"1 will give you ten thousand dollars for the
brig as she now hes."
"And the time of payment?"
"Within forty days. You cannot want the
money sooner ; the river is frozen over, and
you could not make use of the cash, before that
time."
Mr. Holmes turned to Bradford, and said:
"You know, Henry, that I am aware that you
have not the means of payment, and also that
yon are a person not likely to be employed as an
agent in such business, and yet I have every con
fidence in your word."
Henry explained fully to the ship owner the
state of his affairs, an exhibited to him the lot
tery ticket, No. 5,4,3,2.
"But," said Mr. Holmes, "there may be
some mistake about the matter, or some failure
of the lottery, by which I should lose."
Henry explained his motives and wishes, and
in two hours he held in his hand a bill of sale of
the brig Helvetius, which, as the papers were
not obtained, he immeidately named MARY.
The condition was, that Henry was to hold the
vessel forty days, and if, within that time, he
should pay ten thousand dollars, she was to be
his; if not, she was to revert to Mr. Holmes,
who, in the mean time, held the ticket as a sort
of collateral. The bill of sale as I saw it bore
date the sth of Febuary, 1815. Henry felt like
a new man.
Ile was ship ownerin a place where that char
acter was a sort of aristocracy. He went day
after day to look at his brig, wishing for the time
to pass away for the price to be paid ; but he
said nothing to Mr. Carver.
One evening, while Henry was talking to Ma
ry, she asked him what he intended to do when
the forty days were up.
"Rig her, bend her sails, nail then sell her, or
send her to sea."
"Why Henry it took the whole of the ticket
to buy the hull and the, standing spars, and it
will take half as much more to rig her and find
canvass ; and, besides that, how can you sell her
for more than Mr. Holmes could."
Henry hesitated, he had not thought of that ;
but he did not doubt but it would all come right
yet.
Henry was sitting the next day on the quarter
rail of his brig, looking at the'masts, well cover
ed with snow and ice, and thinking of the better
appearance she would make when the rigger had
done his duty.—At lenght he felt the hand of
Mr. Holmes upon his shoulder.
"Henry," said the latter, "I am sorry to have
bad news to tell you. Read that paragraph in the
Boston Sentinel."
"Conanc•rio:.—The ticket which drew the
highest prize in the Plymouth Beach Lottery
was 4,5,3,2, and not as our compositors stated
last week, 5,4,3,2. We understand that a gentle
man of wealth in the southern part of this town
is the fortunate holder."
"What do you say to that, Henry 1"
"Only that the old gentleman will not now
say that I have the wages of gambling."
"No, nor will he give you the credit of being
a ship owner," said Mr. Holmes. "You have
been unfortunate, Henry, and I am sorry for
you," continued Mr. Holmes, changing his tone
considerably; "and regret my own loss, as I
have need of the money ; but, as you cannot pay
for the brig, you would better hand me the bill
of sale and I will destroy it."
Henry drew from his pocket the precious doc
ument, and while he examined it from top to bot
tom, he said to Mr. Holmes "This atlbir has
been to me like a pleasant dream, not only on ac
count of my aspirations for Mary, which you are
acquainted with, but day after day I have felt a
growing energy for business, a sort of outreach
ing of the mind, a determination, with such a no
ble beginning, to proceed cautiously but steadily
to do what I ought to have done long since. Then,
Mr. Holmes, as the bill has yet some days to run,
before 1 can be chargeable with violatidu of con
tract, I will restore it to my pocket-book, and if
I cannot dream as I have done, I shall not, at
least, be awakened too suddenly."
Mr. Holmes, of course, consented, as he real
ly had no right to claim the vessel until the for
ty days should have expired; and Henry went up
to tell Mary of the new turn his luck had taken.
Though Mary respected her father too much
not to feel pleasure in Henry's new possession,
yet she loved Henry too much not to feel deeply
grieved at his bitter disappointment.
"That dream," said Henry, doubtingly
“that dream has not yet come to pass."
Some days after that them was, as usual, a
gathering at the post office, at some distance
from the ship yarn, awaitiug the arrival of the
mail. The stage, at the usual hour drove np,
and the driver said, as he handed the mailbag
into the house, that he guessed there was better
news to-day than he had brought since the vic
tory on the . lakes.
„ Another victory, Mr. Woodward I”
"No, not another victory, but PeAcs!"
"Can you tell me," said a dapper looking
young gentleman, as he slipped from the stage,
"where I can find Mr. Holmes, the owner of
brig Helvetius I,'
"Mr. Holmes lives on the bill yonder," was
the reply, "hut it is thought he does not own
the Ilelvetius now."
"Has he sold her I"
"Yes."
"I am very sorry for that—who is the own
er 1"
"Mr. Bradford—the young man whom you
see reading the newspaper."
The stranger stepped into the house, and in
quired of Henry whether he would sell the brig.
Henry said he would most cheerfullly part
with her.
"At what price 1"
"At the peace price."
" Stagg is ready," said Mr Woodward, the
driver,
"We will ride over to the village," said Hen
ry, “and converse on the matter as we go
along."
Henry soon emerged from the stage coach and
hastened to Mr. Carver's.
"You look cheerful," said Mary,
"I have drawn another prize 1"
"Not another I hope !"
"Yes, and a large one ; I have sold the brig
for twenty thousand dollars to a Boston House
and I an to be in Plymouth at three o'clock, to
get my pay at the Bank."
"But the brig was not yours, Henry. Surely
you are not deranged—you could not hold the
brig after the mistake of the prize was correc
ted."
"There is just where you are mistaken, Mary.
There is a bill of sale which allows forty days
from date for payment.. Sarnothing to any one,"
cried Henry, "and I will see you before I sleep.'
"What's the matter with henry?" said Mrs.
Carver as she entered the room; "has he drawn
another prize 1"
"I guess not, mother," said Mary, "only drea
ming again, perhaps."
At nine o'clock, Henry arrived from Ply
mouth, with an accepted draught for ten thousand
dollars in favor of Mr. Holmes, and a bank
book in which he had credit for an equal sum :
and the brig Mary Made sum of the most profita
ble voyages that were ever projected in Boston.
She was in the East India trade, and as her
return was noticed in the papers, (and it was
usually announced about the Caine time that the
very respectable familly of Bradford had an in
crease.) Henry was wont to exclaim, "luck
is every thing."
Sonic years after that, twenty-five at least,
as I was riding out into Plymouth, with Brad
ford arid his grand-daughter, I refered to the
anecdote, and the conclusion, that "lock is
every thing."
"There may be something in luck, but the
HOPE which I gathered while I held the ticket,
with the belief that I had a prize, the resolu
tions which I formed while sitting and gazing at
the lofty spars of my brig, and the confiding
virtue, the filial piety, and the perfect love of
Mary did all for me, and I should have been
rich without the brig; so you see it was Hope,
contemplation, and woman's virtue, woman's
piety, and woman's love, that made me what I
am. And let me add, friend C., that you and I
owe more to woman than the world credets to
her. Let its at least do her justice."
Courtship and Marriage.
The difference between Courtship and Mar
riage, was never more forcibly explained than
it is in the following
What made you get married if you don't
like it'?"
"Why, I was deluded into it—fairly deluded
—I had nothing to do of evenings, so I went
courting. Courting is fun enough—l have not
got a word against it. It's about as good a
way of killing an evening as I know of. Wash
your face, put on a clean dickey, and go and talk
as sweet as sugar and molasses candy for an
hour or two, to say nothing of a few kisses be
hind the door, as your sweetheart goes to the
step with you.
4 , When I was a single man, the world wag
ged well enough. It was just like an omnibus ;
I was a passenger, paid my levy, and hadn't got
nothing more to do with it but sit down, and
didn't care a button for any thing. Sposin' the
omnibus got upset, well, I walks oft; and leaves
the man to pick up the pieces. But then I
must take a wife and be hanged tome. It's all
very well for a while; but afterwards, its pla
guey Eke owning an upset omnibus."
How To Fix 'Est.—Mrs. Swissheld, of
the Pittsburg Saturday Visiter, goes for
horse-whipping drunkards to reform
them, and in answer to those who charge
her with want of womanly sympathy,
quotes the passage: "Whom the Lord
loveth be ehasteneth, and scourgeth ev-
ery son whom he receiveth."
fkO , ri
nn,4,i
The Mothers Fatal Mistake.
Who among the children of men requires so
Much wisdom as the mother of a family 1 The
statesman requires wisdom that he may so ad
vise or direct as to secure the happiness and
prosperity of the nation ; but shotild one states
man act unwisely, another may step in to repair
the evil, and so his country may be saved from
impending ruin. The merchant needs wisdom,
and foresight, and tact, that he may guide his
affairs with discretion—but should his plans be
all frustrated, and riches make themselves
wings, and fly away at one period of his life, he
may have them restored at another, so at the
close of his lire he may have his family in case
and comfort. The farmer needs wisdom in cul
tivating his land or arranging his stock, so as
to bring him the best return for his labor and
toil ; but should he fail one year to realize his
hopes, the next may make up the deficiency.—
The navigator needs wisdom to guide his frail
bark over the trackless deep, so that he may es
cape the rocks, and quicksands, and whirlpools
which may be in his way ; but should he be un
fortunate and become a wreck, he has a chance
of being saved by holding on to the rigging or
escaping in his boat, and in this, painful situa
tion may find timely help from another voyager.
But the Mother! if slag makes a mistake in her
mighty work, the probability is that it will prove
fatal. Her little bark, which has just been
launched upon the ocean of life, will find many
rocks, and quicksands, and whirlpools in its
way—she, the ?nether, is to be the pilot for the
most important part of the voyage, and if she
fails to guide it aright, dreadful will be the
wreck when it dashes over the precipice of
time into eternity. There will be no kind hand,
no returning season, to repair the injury; the
work is done, and clone badly ; and eternity will
echo and re-echo the dreadful tale of a chilil
lost through its mother's neglect !
]From the National lntelligencer.]
ARGUM ENTUM AD HOMINUM
Gen. T., 01 New York, a gentleman of known
wealth and liberality, was not long since called
upon by a person to obtain his signature on a
petition for the abolition of capital punishment.
The person unfolded his papers and documents,
and presented and enforced his arguments in
rnther a tiresome set-speech, stopping ; sear
sionally to deposit a mouthful of tOtaTco-jitice
upon a nice parlor carpet. Gm. T. was in lavor
of diminishing capital punishments, but doubt
ed the propriety or expediency of abolishing
them in all cases. At the expression of this
opinion his visiter began to bridle up and pre
pare to lay down his arguments with greater
force; and, in order to give greater facility to
his enunciation, he took from Isis mouth a huge
quid of tobacco and threw it upon the white
,marble hikrth, saying he wished the General
would be g'S good as to inform him in what cases
capital punishment could ever be justified or
defended.
Well," said the General, r 0 it strikes me
that, if we are going to abolish capital punish
ment, there are two cases which should be made
exceptions."
Two cases, am there?" said the petitioner.
Well, sir, I should like to hear them stated,
and the arguments for them."
The first," said the General, is that of
clear, cold-blooded, premeditated murder. I
think the person who lies in waiting or ambush
with malice prepence, and takes the life of his
fellow-creature, ought to forfeit his life in re
turn, He deserves to be hung."
Well, I haveabundance of arguments to meet
that ease," said the visiter. Now I should
like to know what is your other case."
The other case," said the .3eneral,. is that
of the animal that walks on two legs, calls itself
a man, and carries a mouthful of disgusting filth
into a clean house, and there pours it about the
carpet, and scatters it over the hearth. Such a
being is certainly not fit to live in decent socie
ty, and I do not know of any better or more
ready mode of getting rid of him, than to hang
him. With these two exceptions, I think I
should be willing to sign your petition for the
abolition of capital punishment.'
The visiter gathered up his papers, thrust
them into his pocket, and, with a very. blank
look, hastily withdrew. He has not called since
to receive the General's signature.
Splitting the Difference.
The author of the following atrocious
libel on the ladies has escaped. A sharp
look-out should be kept for him. A nice
young, man, not a thousand miles from
this, after a long and assiduous court
ship, found himself, one bright evening,
the betrothed of a very pretty girl, the
very pink of modesty. One night he
was about to take his departure, and af
ter lingering about the door for some
time, in n fidget of anxiety, declated he
would not leave her until she kissed him.
Of course, Miss Nancy blushed beauti
fully red, and protested,• in turn, that
she could not and would not do that—
she never had done such a thing, and
never would until she was married, now
he had it. The altercation became deep
and exciting, until the betrother buffed
outright, and declared if he couldn't kiss
her ha couldn't have her, and was
marching off. She watched him nt the
gate, and saw " the fat was in the fire"
unless something was done.
" Come back, then!" said she coax
ingly, "11l split the difference with you
—you may squeeze my hand !"
VOL. XIV, NO, 20
The Dance of Life.
Humen life is a mere dance—the nur
sery a bawl room 1 Old maids and
'
bach
elorst fur want of partners are compelled
to exhibit in apes seul. Knavery prac
tices the shuffle, while pride; prudence
and experience are professors of the art
of cutting. Courage tenches the "en
avant," and discretion ("the better part
of valor") the "en arriere." Some are
happy in their choice or "partners," and .
many are doomed to go through tho
whole "dance" with the dowerless and
disagreeable Miss-Fortunes and Miss-
Chances.
The ambitious and would 4)e great are
constantly struggling to showh off in if
particular "set ; ' but, notwithstanding
the pains they take in their "steps,"
frequently experience the mortification
of a "doe a dos," when they are anxious
ly exerting all their efforts for a smiling
"vie a Ins."
These are the "ups and downs" of the
"dance." The "lords of creation," (with.
few exceptions) are very awkward and
ungainly ; while, "loVely woman" is
most generally perfect in the "figure."
Love is generally "master of ceremo
nies ;" but being rather par-blind, makei
the most ridiculous mistakes in intro
ducing "partners ;" and, although A 11-
rice (who officiates in the higher circles)
is lynx-eyed, he commits as many errors
in "coupling" the company, as his coad
jutor.
Hope illnrninates the "festive scene,"
and away they bound on the "likht fan
tastic toe"—hands across—down the
middle—up again—till Time steps in
and throws a damp upon their merri
ment—the piper stops for "want of
breath," and—the dance beds !
Exercise of the Mind:
Persons who are much employed in
pursuits involving manual labor are apt
t 3 undervalue the necessity of exercising
their minds more fully than the mere
thinkingS immediately connected with
their purSuitS. To such we would say;
your power of applying your mind in
•tently to any subject will be in exact
proportion to the amount of exercise you
have giVen it.
The arm of the blacksmith, or the leg
of the dancing master, increases in size
by its exercise, and the brain of the law;
yer gains activity and strength from a
similar cause.
Even the eye may be improved in the*
exercise of its functions by use. Tline
the artist and the dealer in dry goods
both remember and observe colors with
greater exactness than those not so em ,
ployed.
Go to our prisons and observe those
who have worked in silence for many
years at some monotonous occupation,
without the opportunity of listening to
conversations, or of refering to books,
without change of scene or other cause
for exercise of thought, and you will in
variably find that they have lessened in
the power of thinking ; their memories;
and indeed every quality of their Minds,
will be found to have deteriorated.
With sorb facts as these fairly liner: ,
mined, is it not both slothful aid Sinfut
for farmers to doze away their evenings
in a sort of half concionstiess, and then
retire to bed like beasts of burden, in
stead of spending g single hour, at Jeast,
each evening, in a healthy and proper
exercise of their minds.
Married Life.
The following true sentiments ere
from tho pen of the charming writers
Fredericka Bremer, whose observation§
might well become the rule of life, so tip;
propriate arc they to many of its phases:
Deceive not one another in small
shines nor in great. One little single
lie has, before now; disturbed a whole
married life. A small cause has often
produced great consequences. Fold not
your hands together and sit idle. Lazi
ness is the the devil's cushion. Do not
run much from your home. One's own
health is worth more than gold. Many
a marriage, my friend, begins like the
rosy morning, and then falls away like
a snow wreath. And whyl Because
the married pair neglect to be as well
pleased with each other after marriage
as before. Endeavor always, my chil
dren, to please one another, but at the
same time keep God in your thoughts.
Lavish not all your thoughts on to-day,
for remember that marriage has its
to-morrow, and its day after to-mor.
row, too,' spare,' as we may say,
fuel for the winter.' Consider, my
daughter, what the word wife expresses:
The married woman is the husband's
domestic faith; in tier hands must he
be able to confide house and family, be
able to trust her with the key of his
heart, as well as the key of his eating
room. His honor and his home are tin
der her keeping, his well being is in her
hand. Think of this ! Arid ye sons,
be faithful husbands and good fathers of
fatnilies. Act so that your wives shall
esteem and love you.