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THIE HOME aIBCL E.
LINES IN A LADY'S ALBUM BY WILLIAM BRUNTON. We have no choice of life's descent, No choice of fortune, form, or fate, And yet we judge 'tis wisely meant, And all occurs with good intent, And leads to Heaven's high estate, If we with patience work and wait. Behold what worlds outstrech above, Enough for largest reason's scopel Ro soar on pinions like the dove, Explore the realms of light and love, Then turn with circumstance to cope, With hopeful heart and heartfelt hope! Each wish for good that in us lies, Cannot be sent without its end, But broadens like the breadth of skies, And will to full fruition rise, As dummers on and onward tend, Each wish to us an angel friend. So let thy soul expand with pride, Rejoicing in its earthly lot Invisibles are by thy side, To lead thro' death's dark tide; In stately hall or lowly cot, Immortal souls are ne'er forgot! PICTURES SEEN IN THE LAMPLIGHT. The lamp of life, after burning for eighty years for one man, went out lately on the fair Pacific coast and we are left to consider the lessons that life has taught. We are told that lives of great men all re mind us that we ourselves may make our lives sublime ; a broader truth is that the lives of all men be they great or small have in them something we can learn and be the better for. The evening lamp so freshly trimmed, shines brightly this cool October night and in it, as in a mirror, we see the changes in each stage of this man's life. First as a baby on his mother's breast; loving, innocent, gentle, tender-eyed, soft handed, happy in the unconscious blissful ness of infancy. Of this period but little need be said. The picture as we see it is but as are thousands of pictures in quiet home circles. Next a child running in and out from his mother's presence, chasing the bird and the bee in the secluded Pennsylvania village, where he was born, in the summer time, 'gathering nuts and chasing squirrels in the brown-leaved woods in autumn, and gliding down hill slopes over the smooth white snow in winter. Who that has seen the pic ture of Whittier's barefoot boy but will see this one as it comes to us in the bright lamp light. Later a student-melancholy, like Shake speare's character, pouring studiously over .achool tasks. Quiet, reserved, with but few companions, fewer intimates and no friends. The years glide by aild knowledge enters. Now it is that his character is forming and the plastic clay is being moulded-for what ? In what direction are his inclinations run ning? Is his mind spreading out upon the table-land of the general good of humanity, or is it stepping rigidly into some single groove of selfish aims and ends ? Later we shall know. These pictures pass away and another comes. Hand in hand we see him, a young man, walking with the maiden of his choice up the broad aisle leading to the marriage altar to the sound of merry wedding bells, amid the fragrance of flowery wreaths, the smiles of many friends, the pleasant words of all. Bright shines the sun upon the hap py scene, as it has shone upon untold myr lads of similar scenes. But for him all the world is centered hin this solemn but inex pressibly blissful moment, "Love rules the court, the camp, the grove " and beautifies the humblest home. We linger lovingly over this picture; but it passes away as did those before it, as will those that come after. Now is reproduced a picture somewhat similar to the first. Nature renews itself ; a young child lies upon its mother's happy breast, and a fond father bends with throb bing heart above them both. Unseen angels hover over all, and could we but hear the songs they sing as they swing their shining fragrance-laden censers in the air we would realize better the meaning hidden in such words " Of such are the Kingdom of Heav en." But as it is not for us to trace the story of this latter life at this time, we watch the picture pass away and wait impa .ent for the next. This latest is in the form of a panorama, stretching over many years of life. There is much in it that we do not understand save in a general way; there are ships sailing down to tropical lands; we see palm groves and swarthy-hued Indians pacing shining sands; we see a man busy with the multi tudinous affairs of business, ever active, run ning hither and yon and always, always alone. We ponder for a moment upon this part of the picture; but as the picture rolls along we see him handling heaps of gold and silver, stowing them away in bags, hid ing them in secret places, and it dawns on us that it is the sole aim of this man's life to accumlate riches. We recall for a moment the student at his books and feel for a time a sad regret. Has he forgotten the lessons then learned? Has he forsaken the wife and child ot his early manhood ? Has he given himself up to the demon of cupidity and does he walk only as he is guided by this fearful and avaricious fiend ? In all the panorama as it passes by we do not see one single sign betokening a happy home circle; no hand laid lovingly on ten der shoulder, and no arms opening to take into their endearing embrace the child of love. Now a new scene presents itself. A trail, and an emigrant train winding over desolate plains, by quiet valley streams, through rock strewn gulches, over mighty mountain passes. Men drop by the wayside, horses lie down and rise no more. White canvassed wagons are left deserted upon the road. But one man's face shows clear and distinct; it is brown and bearded, resolute and stern. Always alone, even in the bivouao, at the camp-fire. Always alone, even at the noon day meal. Always alone, though the crack of the driver's whip rings unceasingly in his ears. A new scene presents itself. A city by the sea. Full of an eager, bustling crowd, but no one so eager, no one so bustling as the man whose familiar face we saw in the marts of business, in the mine, in the mar ket, in the field. Ever with the one thought upermost in his mind. He walks over the plains about the city, and lo! a change comes over them and stately buildings rise like Alladdin's palaces at his beck. Slowly the canvass rolls on ; we see deeper furrows gathering upon his brow, a duller lustre shining in his eyes; age is creeping upon him and his step is growing feebler, his hand less firm. Always, always alone. Wrapping around him his mantle of reserve closer and closer as years go by. But the head and the heart -these restrain their strength all the time. There is no faltering here, for their firmness comes from the firm gold in which they are encased. Always alone, outwardly, but inwardly, what was there going on in the mind of this man? Who can tell? The scene changes and in the picture comes the last ot the eventful history. The old man lies a-dying; the hands that have worked so long lie motionless upon the cov erlidl ; the brain that has been active through three score of years grows more and more quiet; night and silence rest upon the scene and as the clock strikes one the soul releases itself from its tennement of clay and the fee ble, flickering lamp of life dies out. The hands that are about his bedside are not of his skin; no wife, no children kiss the cold lips as the damp of death gathers upon them. He died as he had lived essentially alone. lIe left behind millions upon millions of dollars; he took with him-what ? Dear reader, do you recognize the life we have thus briefly sketched? As we think it.over, what are the lessons of life? Will the light it sheds along the coast of time be a beacon light that shall show some storm tossed mariner, sailing over a stormy sea, the way to the harbor of safety ? Dear mother, do you think, as you sit so quietly sewing, with the light of the even ing lamp shining so brightly around you and with the knowledge of the innocent children of your love sleeping peacefully in the chamber above you, do you think you would like any one of these dear ones to grow up into life and to die the death of this man? God forbid, we say, as we think of the lit tie ones watching and waiting our coming in the home circle that is incomplete when we are not there. It cannot be-it is not-all of life to ltve as this man lived. "'' Solive that when thy summons to join The innumerable caravan that moves To the pure realms of shade where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death Thou go not like the quarry slave at night Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him and lies down to pleasant dreams. - W. E. Pabor, in Colorado Farmer. A PICTURE IN DOMESTIC LIFE. In the spring-time of life, two loving hearts are united in marriage. Dame Fortune, with her usual capriciousness, has been lav ish in the bestowal of sterling qualities of the heart, while their endowment of worldy goods is meagre. Life, with its sunshine and shadow-its vocissitudes, and stern re alities, visits them. The husband, naturally indolent and ease-loving, assumes the avo cation of the farmer; while the wife, enter prising and a good manager, performs her respective household duties. The first year teaches them adaptation. The second, the importance of forbearance and reciprocal affection. The third, that life is a much graver matter than they had imagined. And the fourth, is the occasion of their looking the great problem fairly in the face, forming a just estimate of their re sources ; and with a will, placing their shoul ders to the wheel. Amid perplexities, dif ficulties, financial embarrassment, depress ing influences, and hard labor-who is vic tor in the struggle for home and happiness? With due respect, for the executive ability of man, I answer-the wife. Her move-. ments and ultimated success, are established upon the broad basis of reciprocal affection. Her influence, strong and ennobling, is cornm plete. With the tact accorded all women, she understands how to lighten the load bring happiness to the one she loves. I never hear of unhappy homes arid dissi pated husbands, but what I feel assured that the difficulty originated in the nature of the influence exerted by the wife. This is a broad assertion, yet let us analyze it alittle : T'he~ i.aeee . of men, for good -orevil, is inestimable. Home being her peculiar do main-the married relation her natural ele ment-It is here her power is more fully recognized. The most effective weapon she can employ in the battle of life, is the affec tion of her husband. Armed with this pos session, she is ready for an emergency ; con sequently, her husband, children and home, will become what she chooses to make them. A woman never loses the love of her hus band, unless she has taken no pains to re tain it; nor does she degenerate into a drudge, or slattern, with her husband's con sent. Men are not brutes; far from it. Touch the right chord and you will see. Try the virtue of a smile. If you have per mitted your husband to contract the wretch ed habit of fault-finding, take him unaware, and when his frown is heaviest, manage to touch your lips to his brow. You will find the effect electrical; and I doubt not your little device, would discover a suspicious quivering of the manly lips, and a moisten ing of the eyes, that regarded you with sur prise and affection. There is but one mode of dealing satisfactorily with a husband, and that is, with his heart, as well as under standing. Every wife understands how to levy such attacks, and to come off more than conqueror. Following the lortunes of the youthful pair, we find them, at the ex piration of twenty years, in a comfotbrtable home, which has replaced the modest frame. Acres have increased the dimensions of the farm, its thriftness, bespeaking skillful iman agement. The interior of the dwelling is brightened by the serene countenance of the matron of forty, wlhile the glad voices of the merry group around her, testify to the fact -that home is not only dear but attractive. It is Friday evening, and the trio (two daughters and a son, aged respectively six teen, fourteen and twelve) have taken pos session of the parlor, and are devoting the time to music and conversation with papa. The mother and oldest daughter occupy an adjoining sitting-room, engaged in sewing. One of her flock is soon to be withdrawn from her loving care, and she feels it her duty to plant her young feet iu the straight path-of right-doing. " Keep your husband's love in tact. Iden tify yourself with all his interests. Per form your duties,.promptly and thoroughly. Economize both time and labor. Leant to avail yourself of the moments, that you may avoid haste. Interest your husband in your pursuits; encourage him in his. If your house be ever so plain, render it and your self sufficiently attractive to cause him to prefer a quiet evening at your side, to the enjoyment of questionable pleasures." "I don't think Willis could ever think leo of me." "Possibly. An uncombed head, and a worse than soiled dress, would not contrib ute in the least, to his regards. A man's wife is the last woman he wishes to see um tidy." A word more, my child, before we lay aside our sewing for the night-a word re. specting the right of women. "It is the right of the wife to share her husband's un divided affection; to bring joy to the heart; to render his home tasteful and happy; to set an example of piety, fortitude and cheer fuhiess; to elevate and encourage; to bring discordant elements into harmony ; to point out to the young immortals entrusted to her care, the road to holiness and God, walking therein herself. She need not step beyond her threshold to acquaint herself with all the right heaven has accorded her. In short, the mission of woman is, to trust in God, elevate mankind, and by the power of ex ample, to guide the beings to whom she has given birth, to the foot of the cross."--LeMN in Rural World. GOLDEN SHEAVES. What is man ? A foolish baby. Vainly strives, and fights, and frets; Demanding all, deserving nothing; One small grave is what he gets. -It is onward and upward with the right. eons. -Everybody can detect an error, but not a li.e -God only looks to pure and not to full hands. -Search others for their virtues, thyself for thy vices.-Fuller. -For hopeits Ibutlie dream of those that wake.-Mathew Prior. -The night is past-joy cometh wilth the morrow.-Bu lwer Lytton. -One must leave certain minds in undles turbed possessions of their idiosyncrasies. -A sure penny a day saved, is better, than a possible guinea which is never found.., -If the best man's faults were written on his torhead, he would draw his hat over his eyes. -Joy descends gently upon us like the evening dew, and does not patter down like a hail-storm. -Though a taste of pleasure may quick en the relish of life, an unrestrained indul gence leads to inevitable destruction. -Every man is born for heaven; and he is received in 'heaven who receives heaven in himself while in the world and he is ex eluded who does not. -Justice claims what is due, Polity what is seemly. Justice weighs, and decides; Polity surveys and orders. Justice'refers to the individual, Polity to the community. -Be not ashamed to confess that you have been in the wrong. It is but owning what you need not be ashamed of, that you now have more sense than you had before to see your error; and more humility to acknowl. edge it. -We shall find difficultiesin all great en terprises, if we are sure we have begun them from God, we may securely cast all events upon his providence, which knows how to dispose and how to end them.-Bish. op Halt. -Works of a certain order are now pro duced which are null and void without be ing absolutely bad; null for want of sub. stance, yet not xbad, as their authors had the general outline of good models in their mind's eye. -For some are too proud to forgive them selves till the forgiveness of God has had its way with them, has drowned their terirs ot repentance and make their heart come back again like the heart of a little chUd.--G~erge Mac Donalsd,