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Oh how my heart ran o'er with joy!
I saw that all was good, And how we might glean up delight
All round us, if we would !
And many a wood-mouse dwelleth there,
Beneath the old-wood shade, And all day long has work to do,
Nor is of aught afraid.
The green shoots grow above their heads,
And roots so fresh and fine
'Mong them for mine and thine.
There is enough for every one,
And they lovingly agree; We might learn a lesson, all of us,
Beneath the green-wood tree!
THE POOR VOTER'S SONG.
They knew that I was poor,
And they thought that I was base ; They thought that I'd endure
To be covered with disgrace;
Who on filthy lucre doat,
Who would my conscience buy!
Not I indeed, not I!
FASHIONABLE FOLLIES. There are in the United States one hundred thonsand young ladies, as Sir Ralph Abercrombie said of those of Scotland, « the prettiest lassies in a' the world," who know neither to toil nor spin, who are clothed like the lilies of the valley,—who thrum the piano, and, a few of the more dainty, the harp, who walk, as the Bible says, softly,—who have read romances, and some of them seen the interior of theatres,-who have been admired at the examination of their high school,—who have wrought algebraic solutions on the blackboard, —who are, in short, the very roses of the garden, the attar of life, who yet, horresco referens,-can never expect to be married, or, if married, to live without-shall I speak, or forbear?-putting their own lily hands to domestic drudgery.
We go into the interior villages of our recent wooden country. The fair one sits down to clink the wires of the piano. We see the fingers displayed on the keys, which, we are sure, never prepared a dinner, nor made a garment for her robustious brothers. We traverse the streets of our own city, and the wires of the piano are thrummed in our ears from every considerable house. In cities and villages, from one extremity of the Union to the other, wherever there is a good house, and the doors and windows betoken the presence of the mild months, the ringing of the piano wires is almost as universal a sound, as the domestic hum of life within.
We need not enter in person. Imagination sees the fair one, erect on her music stool, laced, and pinioned, and reduced to a questionable class of entomology, dinging at the wires, as though she could, in some way, hammer out of them music, amusement and a hasband. Look at her taper and creamcolored fingers. Is she a utilitarian? Ask the fair one when she has beaten all the music out of the keys, “ Pretty fair one, canst talk to thy old and sick father, so as to beguile him out of the headache and rheumatism? Canst write a good and straightforward letter of business? Thou art a chemist, I remember, at the examination; canst compound, prepare, and afterwards boil, or bake, a good pudding? Canst make one of the hundred subordinate ornaments of thy fair person? In short, tell us thy use in existence, except to be conten;plated as a pretty picture ? And how long will any one be amused with the view of a picture, after having surveyed it a dozen times, unless it have a mind, a heart; and, we may emphatically add, the perennial value of utility ?”
It is a sad and lamentable truth, after all the incessant din we have heard of the march of mind, and the interminable theories, inculcations and eulogies of education, that the present is an age of unbounded desire of display and notoriety, of exhaustless and unquenchably burning ambition: and not an age of calm, contented, ripe and useful knowledge, for the
My vote? It is not mine
To do with as I will; To cast, like pearls, to swine,
To these wallowers in ill. It is my country's due,
And I'll give it, while I can, To the honest and the true,
Like a man, like a man!
No, no, I'll hold my vote
As a treasure and a trust, My dishonor none shall quote
When I'm mingled with the dust; And my children, when I'm gone,
Shall be strengthened by the thought, That their father was not one To be bought, to be bought ! O shame upon my betters,
Who would my conscience buy! But I'll not wear their fetters,
Not I indeed, not I!
sacred privacy of the parlour. Display, notoriety, he has sacrificed so much, finds that a servant must surface and splendor—these are the first aims of the be hired for the young ladies. mothers; and can we expect that the daughters will Here is not the end of the mischief. Every one drink into a better spirit ? To play, sing, dress, knows that mothers and daughters give the tone, and glide down the dance, and get a husband, is the les- laws-more unalterable than those of the Medes and son; not to be qualified to render his home quiet, Persians—to society Here is the root of the matwell-ordered and happy.
ter, the spring of bitter waters. Here is the origin It is notorious, that there will soon be no interme- of the complaint of hard times, bankruptcies, greedidiate class between those who toil and spin, and ness, avarice and the horse-leech cry · Give ! give!' those whose claim to be ladies is founded on their Here is the reason why every man lives up to his being incapable of any value of utility. At present, income, and so many beyond it. Here is the rease we know of none, except the little army of martyrs, why the young trader, starting on credit and calling yclept school-mistresses, and the still smaller corps
himself a merchant, hires and furnishes such a house of editorial and active blue-stockings. If it should as if he really was one, fails, and gives to his credi. be my lot to transmigrate back to earth, in the form tors a beggarly account of empty boxes and misapof a young man, my first homages in search of a wife plied sales. He has married a wife whose vanity and would be paid to the thoughtful and pale faced fair extravagance are fathomless, and his ruin is explain. one, surrounded by her little, noisy refractory sub- ed. Hence, the general and prevalent evil of the jects, drilling her soul to patience, and learning to present times, extravagance-conscious shame of the drink of the cup of earthly discipline, and more im- thought of being industrious and useful. Hence the pressively than by a thousand sermons, tasting the concealment by so many thousand young ladies, (who bitterness of our probationary course, in teaching
have not yet been touched by the extreme of modern the young idea how to shoot. Except, as aforesaid, degeneracy, and who still occasionally apply their school-mistresses and blues, we believe that all other hands to domestic employment,) of these, their good damsels, clearly within the purview of the term deeds, with as much care as if they were crimes. lady, estimate the clearness of their title precisely Every body is ashamed not to be expensive and fashin the ratio of their uselessness.
ionable; and every one seems equally ashamed of
honest industry Allow a young lady to have any hand in the adjust
I cannot conceive, that mere idlers, male, or sement of all the components of her dress, each of male, can have respect enough for themselves to be which has a contour which only the fleeting fashion comfortable. I cannot imagine, that they should not of the moment can settle; allow her time to receive morning visitants, and prepare for alternoon appoint-blank in existence, as would be written on their
carry about them such a consciousness of being a ments and evening parties, and what time has the forehead, in the shrinking humiliation of perceiving dear one to spare, to be useful and do good ? To lao that the public eye had weighed them in the balance, bor! Heaven forfend the use of the horrid term! The and found them wanting. Novels and romances may simple state of the case is this. There is some say this or that about their etherial beauties, their fine where, in all this, an enormous miscalculation, an ladies tricked out to slaughter my lord A., and play infinite mischief-an evil, as we shall attempt to Cupid's archery upon dandy B. and despatch Amaryshow, not of transitory or minor importance, but lis C. to his sonnets. I have no conception of a beau• fraught with misery and ruin, not only to the fair tiful woman, or a fine man, in whose eye, in whose ones themselves, but to society and the age.
port, in whose whole expression, this sentiment We have not, we admit, the elements on which to does not stand imbodied :—“I am called by my Crebase the calculation; but we may assume as we have ator to duties; I have employment on the earth; my that there are in the United States a hundred thou. sterner, but more enduring pleasures are in dischargsand young ladies brought up to do nothing excepting my duties." dress, and pursue amusement. Another hundred Compare the sedate expression of this sentiment thousand learn music. dancing, and what are called in the countenance of man or woman, when it is the fashionable accomplishments. It has been said known to stand, as the index of character and the " that revolutions never move backwards." It is fact, with the superficial gaudiness of a simple, goodequally true of emulation of the fashion. The few for-nothing belle, who disdains usefulness and emopulent who can afford to be good for nothing, pre-ployment, whose empire is a ball-room, and whose cede. Another class presses as closely as they can subjects dandies, as silly and as useless as herself. upon their steps; and the contagious mischief spreads Who, of the two, has most attractions for a man of downward, till the fond father, who lays every thing sense ? The one a helpmate, a fortune in herself, who under contribution, to furnish the means for pur-can aid to procure one, if the husband has it not ; chasing a piano, and hiring a music master for his who can soothe him under the loss of it, and what daughters, instead of being served, when he comes is more, aid him to regain it ? and the other a paint. in from the plough, by the ruined favourites for whomed butterfly, for ornament only during the vernal and
BY FRANCES ANN BUTLER.
sunny months of prosperity; and then not becoming But our paths might all be smoother
FAITH. We are obliged to avail ourselves of severe language in application to a deep-rooted malady. We want words of power. We need energetic and stern ap Better trust all, and be deceived, plications. No country ever verged more rapidly to And weep that trust, and that deceiving; wards extravagance and expense. In a young republic, Than doubt one heart, that if believed like ours, it is ominous of any thing but good. Men of Had blessed one's life with true believing. thought, and virtue, and example, are called upon to
Oh, in this mocking world, too fast look to this evil. Ye patrician families, that croak,
The doubting fiend o’ertakes our youth! and complain, and forbode the downfall of the re
Better be cheated to the last public, here is the origin of your evils. Instead of
Than lose the bl.ssed hope of truth. training your son to waste his time, as an idle young gentleman at large,-instead of inculcating on your daughter, that the incessant tinkling of a harpsi
THE LAST WISH. chord, or a scornful and lady-like toss of the head, or dexterity in waltzing, are the chief requisites to Wilson, the ornithologist, requested that he might make her way in life,—if yon can find no better em be buried in some sunny spot. This, some one has ployment for them, teach him the use of the grub- finely expressed as follows : bing hoe, and her to make up garments for your ser In some wild forest shade, vants. Train your son and daughter to an employ. Under some spreading oak, or waving pine, ment, to frugality, to hold the high front, and to Or old elm, festooned with the gadding vine, walk the fearless step of independence, and suffi Let me be laid. ciency to themselves in any fortunes, any country, or
In this dim lonely grot, any state of things. By arts like these, the early Romans thrived. When your children have these No foot intrusive will disturb my dust;
But o'er me songs of the wild birds shall burst, possessions, you may go down to the grave in peace,
Cheering the spot.
Not amid charnel stones,
May rest my bones;
But let the devy rose,
The snow-drop and the violet, lend perfume
Above the spot where, in my grassy tomb,
I take repose.
Year after year,
Within the silver birch tree o'er me hung,
The chirping wren shall rear her callow young,
Shall build her dwelling near.
And ever at the purple dawn of day
The lark shall chant a pealing song above,
And the shrill quail shall pipe her hymn of love That others sigh to bear;
When eve grows dim and gray.
The blackbird and the thrush,
The golden oriole, shall flit around,
And waken, with a mellow gust of sound,
The forest's solemn hush.
Birds from the distant sea
Shall sometimes hither flock on snowy wings,
And soar above my dust in airy rings,
Singing a dirge to me.
VOICES OF THE TRUE HEARTED.
TO THE PURE ALL THINGS ARE PURE.
The birds have ears that hear my spirit's voice,
And I am glad the leaping brook to see, He was not armed like those of eastern clime,
Because it does at my light step rejoice. Whose heavy axes felled their heathen foe;
Come, brothers, all who tread the grassy hill, Vor was he clad like those of later time,
Or wander thoughtless o'er the blooming fields, Whose breast worn cross betrayed no cross below; Come learn the sweet obedience of the will; Nor was he of the tribe of Levi born,
Thence every sight and sound new pleasure yields. Whose pompous rights proclaim how vain their Nature shall seem another house of thine, prayer;-
When he who formed thee, bids it live and play,
Thine own companions born for harmony.
Thou hast not left the rough-barked tree to grow
Without a mate upon the river's bank ;
Nor dost thou on one flower the rain bestow,
And burst the prison where the captive lies; His glow of health to paint the livid cheek. And one by one, new born shall join the strain, They borrow words, for thoughts they cannot feel, Till earth restores her sons to heav'n again. That with a seeming heart their tongue may speak : And in their show of life more dead they live, Than those that to the earth with many tears they give.
Is there no hope of better things for our world, THE GRA VE YARD.
and must that, which hath been, still be ? Is our My heart grows sick before the wide spread death, life really a lie, and can it, by no possibility, come That walks and spreads in seeming life around; true? 'Twere painful inexpressibly to think thus. And I would love the corse without a breath, 'Twere to make the universe a chaos and our life a ridThat sleeps forgotten ’neath the cold, cold ground ; dle. When, stepping forth in one of these perfect For these do tell the story of decay,
June mornings, we find ourself so gloriously com. The worm and rotten flesh hide not, nor lie; passed that magnificent vault above and this proBut this, though dying too, from day to day, digal earth under us-yon ever-stirring sea kissing With a false show doth cheat the longing eye; its shores, and the fresh early breeze wasting a And hide the worm that gnaws the core of life, blessing unto us—and then think, for a moment, on With painted cheek, and smooth deceitful skin ; the falsities, the disorders, the everlasting clash and Covering a grave with sights of darkness rife, unrest, the disunion and disharmony of this our soA secret cavern filled with death and sin;
cial condition, we cannot believe 'tis to endure as And men walk o'er these graves and know it not, now. We must needs dream of man, the nobler For in the body's health the soul's forgot.
being, harmonized with nature, the meaner creation.
Sprnng from the same original, one wisdom and love , brightest often, has found at last its destroying supervises both.
Theseus, and life looks greener in expectancy of It needs not many years to teach us how at odds this deliverance. Madness, that thing of horrid mysis the unsophisticated spirit with the social order tery, before which, as 'twere a fiend incarnate, whereunto 'tis born. Where lives he, to whom the other days have qnailed in helpless awe, has by revelation of what the world truly is was not a shock modern benevolence been looked steadily in the and an anguish unspeakable ? Evermore 'tis by a eye and tamed. Nor has the “prisoner” been fordownhill path one reaches the platform, whereon the got. No more, like the old time, leprous, are they world's tasks are to be executed and worldly suc- shut out from sympathetic interchange with the cess achieved. Were the whole truth to burst at sound, and branded irrecoverable, so left to die once upon us, we were overwhelmed. But one uncared of. 'Twas remembered that a condemned beauteous illusion after another fades away-one one accepted the Christ of God while the people's principle after another is surrendered as romantic honorable ones” flouted and murdered him—that and impracticable-compromise after compromise to one cut judicially off was “Paradise opened," is struck with absolute verity—lash on lash of the while over the self-complacent, who settled and torturing scourge of necessity drives us into the witnessed his fate, a doom impended so appalling as beaten ways and bows us to “ things as they are”- to draw tears from the guiltless victim of their bar. ray by ray goes out of our birth star, till
barity. That most illustrious of chivalrous banners, “ At length the man perceives it die away,
the ensign of Howard, the Godfrey of the crusade And fade into the light of common day.”
for the redemption of the outcast, has gathered about Yet no time, nor custom, nor debasement itself, it a host of congenial spirits, and many a prison of can utterly destroy our inwrought impressions of ours, like that of Paul and Silas, has echoed with the existence of a somewhat purer and nobler than hymns of the « free"-of those born into the “ glori. actually greets the sense, the possession whereofous liberty of the sons of God.” 'tis man's prerogative to achieve. Manifold and un But grateful as these movements are to the phi. mistakable are the intimations thereof. of the lanthropic heart, 'tis impossible not to see, that, myriad things, that recall our youth, not one but after all, they are neither central nor permanent. remembers us of youth's high purposes and hopes. 'Tis but shearing off the poisonous growths, the Music bears witness to us of a more exalted than roots whereof are left intact and vigorous. The our wonted sphere. And nature, with its undying hour has come, we think, for assaying that radical harmonies and ever fresh beauty, hath perpetual re- reform, wherein all reforms else are comprised. buke for our disorder and deformity. But especially Our social order itself rests on principles unsound does poesy, the ever-living witness of the Divine to and pernicious, and why not strike at the root of the man, point unceasingly to an ideal, challenging our tree? It pains us to witness so much of honorable, real aspirations.
and faithful endeavour little better than flung away From all which causes it is that reform is mea in tasks, which still must be renewed at the instant surably a demand of every age. However self. of completion. Might we but live to see even the content and however absorbed by its own immediate corner-stone laid of a right Christian Society! schemes, it cannot evade the thought of a possible What now be we but suns of Ishmael ? Of a huge advance. Our own time is one altogether unwonted majority 'tis the anxious, everlasting cry, “ how in this regard. The reform-call is universal. One shall we exist ?" Not, « how shall we achieve the inalfeasance and defect after another has been as noblest good ?" Not, - how shall we unfold niost saulted, till no mountain-side but hath echoed back, completely the godlike within us ?” And can it be and no remotest valley that hath not been startled, God's unrepealable ordinance that the great mass of by the vehement demand for new and better life them bearing His impress shall drudge through their con litions. Governments, once keeping afar the life-term to supply their meanest wants, perpetually inquiries of the mass by pompous awes and terrors, overtasked, shrouded thick in intellectual night, have at last felt the pressure of the common hand uncognisant of the marvels of wisdom and beauty on their shoulders, and been fain to render, as they testifying His presence in our world, unparticipant might, a justification of their existence. The Church, of a joy above that of the beasts that perish? Must no longer the Ark, the touch whereof is death, has war and pestilence and famine, must crime and vice been, mayhap, even rudely handled, and anywise and sickness and remorse still hound this poor life been moved to asssign men's largest good as the of man through the whole of its quick-finished cirsole reason for its surviving. And throughout all cle? Must the gallows yet pollute, and the prison departments of social life the same movement has gloom, and the brothel curse, and madhouse and gone. Intemperance itself-earth's coeval and uni- poorhouse shadow the green breast of earth? Wo versal curse--that foul, prodigious birth, to which for our wisdom, that to labor, the first great ordithe world, desperate of resistance, has been fain to nance of Heaven, we have discovered no better yield an annual sacrifice, from its hopefulest and instigation than the insufferable goad of starvation !