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HAP300D & ADAMS. urui BLOCK. VOL. 42, INT0. 1-3. & tBrrklq amilq Scurnal, Draotfb WARREN, TRUMBULL COUNTY, OHIO, WEDNESDAY, to mbora. irnltare, litrrafurc, duration, Xoral SuWligrnrr, anb ijjf Jta of NOVEMBER 11, 1 3 5 7. tjye Daq. TERMS' OSE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS, rem Asrca, i adtajtci. WHOLE NO. 2145. Poetry. ASK ME NO MORE. BY ALFRED TENNYSON. Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea; The clond may stoop from heaven and take the shape. With fold to fold, of moantain or of cape; But, O too fond, when have I answered thee? Ask me no more. Ask me no more: what answer shonld I glreT I lore not hollow cheek or faded ere: Yet. O my friend, I will not have thee diel Ask m no more, lest I should bid thee lire: Ask me no more. Ask me no more: tliy fate and mine are sealed; I strove against (he stream, and all in vain; Let the great river take me to the main; So more, dear love, far at a touch I yield: Ask me no more. TEMPT ME NO MOUC it rujsasca riser. Tempt me no mora; thy tones are sweet and deep. Yet they fall vainly on my weary ears; Pass on, and leave me here to dream and weep. Counting the foot-falls of the lonesome years; Tempt me no more! My wreath of lire holds no freh bloom for thee. Its Bowers are strewn on nnforsotten graves. Only its withered leaves remain to me. And they drift !arkty toward death's wintry waves: Tempt me no more! Gather not rose leaves I rampled in the dest: Ko kindness can their wasted bloom renew. Go. let them die unheeded, as they most. Seek thoa for blossoms fresh and bright with dew ; Tempt me no more! Choice Miscellany. From Peterson's Magazine. Lilian Floyd's Christmas Visit. BY CARRY STANLEY. "My dear," said Mr. Luke Floyd to his wife, "we never hear any thing from poor Tom's widow and her child. I really think we must write and invite them here. These family ties ought to be kept up, and Tom was the only broih er I had;" and Mr. Floyd scraped the back bone of the turkey on his plate with renewed vigor. Mrs. Floyd settled herself in her chair, Glliped the crumbs off her napkin with her delicate ring covered fingeis, and said, "I am sure, my dear, I have no ob jection, but had we not better leave it for awhile? Christmas is so near, and I suppose, poor soul, 6he would feel out of place during- so much gaiety." Mr. Floyd held up his glass of gener ous old port to the light, and gazed lov ingly with half closed eyes at its ruby oilinesss, as he replied, "I don't think Mrs. Tom will feel her self at all oat cf place, my dear, for she is a very respectable lady and has some money of her own" a sure sign with Mr. Luke Floyd that a person was re speclable. And so it was that the letter was written, that put Lilian Floyd in such a state of excitement. Mrs. Tom, as her broiher-in law des ignated her, declined the invitation for herself, but accepted it for Lilly, who with the unsubdued spirits of seventeen' danced about the house in delight. "Isn't it a good thing, mamma, that I didn't get a new bonnet and cloak last .winter?" asked she. "Mins are as fresh now as can be, and my garnet-col ored cashmere I have only worn two or three times it is as good as new;" and eo Lilian talked on, making the best of her small wardrobe. To Mr. Floyd's greater experience, however, her daughter's outfit, looked rery slender, but then her income was inconveniently small. And now, such altering and fitting, each making up of new. things, and do ing up of old, the little cottage had nev er before witnessed. First, there was the new dark blue silk, and the French chintz dresses to be made. Then there was the white mull, which had been bought for the last win ter's cotillion party, and had done church service during the summer, to be washed by old Matlie, and ironed by Mrs. Floyd's cwn careful hands ; and the short sleeves were to havenew thread edging and blue libbons on them; and the white silk stockings v. ere to receive a new flesh-lint, from a dipping in cochi neal water; and the one pair of white kid gloves (we are ashamed to confess it dear reader, but Lilian never had but one paii, )had to be cleaned with flannel, new milk, and white soap; and her colored ones had to be rubbed with stale j bread-crumbs and Indian-rubber: oh, altogether, Lilian never seccollected so pleasant and busy a time. She had no misgivings to mar the pleasures of these preparations. She looked upon her uncle Luke as a mod ern Aladdin, who possessed a magic lamp, that made him master of countless riches, and on her Aunt Floyd as the most lady-like, fascinating personage in the world; and on her Cousin Harriet, as the perfect embodiment of fine young ladyism, as ovely as laces and silk could make her. The warmth of her reception no way disenchanted Lilian. She was unusually pretty, lady like, and well educated; and her relations were too thoroughly 'bred to have expressed any disappoint ment, had she not been so; while she was of too healthy moral nature to imagine slights where none existed. The whirl, the gaiety, and the splen dor of the city perfectly bewildered her. Magnificent furniture, superbly bound books, gay silks, rich embroideries, jew elry piled in the windows in splendid confusion, which she in her innocent lit tie heart thought must be worth a king's ransom, made the store windows one long line of enchantment, till she almost fancied that the glories of the "Arabian Nights" were not fibu'ous; thai alabas ter sofas overlaid with gold, and floors inlaid with precious stones, must be com mon things. Lilian had never been dissatisfied with any thing in her life before, but it must be confessed that now she was in danger of thinking her little village home rather a dull affair. And so several weeks passed, but Lilly Floyd was beginning to be just the least bit in the world d'senchanted. She had been accustomed to all the hon ors of belle-ship in an humble way; the fiisl lobe invited to parlies, pic nics and sleighing excursions; the first in the dance, and the last at home after the revel; but here, after the novelty of crowded rooms, innumerable lights, stir ring music, gay dresses, and expensive ly set tables had worn off, Lilian discov ered that she had little share in the scene, except as a looker on. She wa3 too quiet and unobtrusive among so many strangers to be at all noticed, and though some "fast" young gentleman would pronounce her, "a pretty specimen of still life," or "a beautiful wall flower." Thev vowed she must be a fool, for she could not talk at all; in truth, the pure hearted girl had no sympathies ia com mon with them, so they went off to flat er and flirt with her more brilliant cousin. The plain or middle-aged gentlemen J to be sure were roost polite in askipg her to dance, when no more fashionable partners were to be had; but Lilly some times saw that she was a dernier resort. and often refused with a quiet, "ex cuse me, sir, if you please," when her feet were f.tirly twitching to be off, keeping time to the gay music. But Arthur Thornton, her cousin's ad mirer, or lover as she thought him. form ed an exception, for he was neither pl.iin nor middle-aged, but young, eminently handsome and very wealthy. He good naturedly sent Lilian bouquets, danced with her, and handed her out to supper, because he saw how lonely she some times seemed; and "Harriet loooked on, rather well pleased, for she feared no rivalry from her cousin, and it kept the gentleman's attentions from other quar ters. One morning as the jirls were prepar ing for a shopping excursion and prome nade, Mr. Thornton came in. "Just going out?" asked he, "well I'll not detain you. I only called to see if you would not go with me to-morrow night to hear Parodi, in Lucrezia Bor gia?" Lilian's eyes fairly sparkled with de light. Brindisi, and the other gems of tho opera were famiiar to her; but to see Parodi in the whole drama, was what she had not dared to hope for. She was passionately fond of music, had a correct ear, and exquisite taste, which her mother, who was a proficient herself in the art, had most carefully cultivated. It was not only the music, but the acting had enchanted her. Her ancle had taken her to see several of the best opera's, and here was now a chance for "Lucrezia." She almost held her breath from excitement, till Harriet aeswered, "To morrow night! Why you know we are engaged to Mrs. Lane. I hear the party is to be a most brilliant one." Lilian's countenance fell in a moment. She was so disappointed, that tears al most forced their way into her eyes. Mr. Thornton noticed this nnd said, 'Are you going to Mrs. Lane too. Miss Lilian?" "Yes, I expect I must," was the half petulent reply. "Well, if you do not care too much about the parly, suppose you accompany me 10 me opera, l do so dislike going alone; and you are so very fond of mu sic, that I think you will enjoy it." Lilian's spirits rose again. 'Oh, thank you," said she, 1 want to hear Parodi so much, in Lucrezia, and if I can convince myself that Mrs. Lane will not be miserable at my ab sence, I will send her a regret," continu ed she, laughingly. 'Come, ladies," said Thornton, when they had reached the hall door, "do let me accompany you on your shopping expedition, I am somewhat curious to know how expensive a luxury a wife is going to be." And as store after store was entered. he watched with some amusement the indifference with which the brilliant Miss Floyd turned over the gay goods, and the astonishment with which Lilian heard the prices. "Well, ladies, lam almost frightened at the thought of maltimony, after all these extravagances. Suppose we have a promenade now; as the day is fine." But the walk in the direction which they were taking, was suddenly stopped by falling bricks, dry mortar and dust, from an old building which was being torn down, so they turned into a crowd ed but less fashionable street. In passing a toyshop, they saw look ing eagerly in at the window, three bright faced, happy-looking little girls, very commonly dressed, with their cchool satchels on their arms, each with a loud voice, pointing out to the others what she would buy if she only had the mon ey. "I'd have that burecu,"saiJ one. Oh! that ain't pretty, I'd lake that box with chairs and sofas in," answered the second. 'I wouldn't," said the third: if I had money enough, I'd buy that doll with with curly hair, for Aune, she's lame yon know." Mr. Thornton and the cousins had been walking very slowly, and Lilirn had heard the children's conversation. Their sparkling eager little eyes affected her powerfully. Oh! how she longed for just a little more money, that she might feel justified in gratifying them, and when the little lame Anne was men tioned, she thcught to herself, "well, I'll do without a pair of gloves, then I can afford to give thera the money, it will yield them so much pleasury;" and as Thornton and Hirriet were eagerly debating the merits ofsome acquaintance, she clepped back to the little group at the window, and hand each a peice of silver, said, "Kan in, now, and buy what you want with it;" and turning to the last speaker, she said, "do you get the doll if you can for Anne." Wrh these words i-he again joined her cousin. The children looked at each other, and then at the retreating figure in amazement. The luxury of fairy tales was unknown to them; but they were nevertheless inclined to believe that there was something supernatural ia the lady who Had just leir teem mi " i .t . t t . l ne mile gin wmi inc lame sister was the first to recover speech. She ran af- ter Ionian, ana taking noid 01 ner dress sai-1. "I am very much obliged to you, good lady, indeed I am." "So em I," and "so nm I," reitera ted the others. "Why Lilian, what is the matter? have you been playing the Lady Bounti ful to those monkeys?" asked Harriet. "Oh, no, only I heard one of them say she wanted to buy something for a lame sister, and I gnve her a little mon ey," was the reply, "1 love so to see children happy." Alter impatiently counting the long hours, the lime for the opera at last ar rived. Lilian had been dressed since the middle of the afternoon; her hood, cloak, fan, and her cousin's opera glass, were all lying on the bed in readines; she was giving the last touch, for fiftieth time, to her collar and the black velvet on her wrists, when Mr. Thornton was announced; aud throwing on her cloak and hood in haste, she went down stairs. At the parlor door she met her aunt, who exclaimed, "why, where are your gloves, Lilly?" "I was going to wear my black lace milts, auut, will they nat do?" "Why no, child, jeople always go to the opera in full dress, you know." "Well, I am very sorry. I hope Mr. Thornton "till not be ashamed of me, for really I have no white gloves fit to wear, and I shall cot put on soiled ones." "But I thought you bought a pair yesterday," said Mrs. Floyd. No, I was too poor," replied Lilkn, laughingly! "this living in the city, and going to parties and the opera, I take to be rather expensive." Now Mrs. Floyd was a very good na lured woman, but she would not have violated the proprieties of the opera, by going without white kid gloves, or an elegant head dress, for the world; and she really felt annoyed, (earing the ele gant Arthur Thornton would be equally so. Poor Lilly entered the drawing-room with all the happy expectation banished from her face, for this trifling contretemps had suddenly dashed all her pleasure. Mr. Thornton had heard the whole conversation through the open door, and shrewdly suspecting that Lilian could have afforded to have bought a pair of new gloves, if the little lame Anne had gone without a dell, he said, as Lilly proceeded to draw on her mits. "In how muoh better taste those black . ! ; j i 1 lace mitts are than white gloves, at least for young ladies." Lilian's face bright enen in a moment. 'I am glad," said she, "that you are not ashamed of me, I did not know how strict opera etiquette was here, till Aunt Floyd told me. However, I suppose the music will sound just as well with these," continued she, holding up her round white arm, looking whiter than ever, from the contrast with the black lace. She reached the opera house in high spirits, and once there, her annoyances rere all forgotten! She listened with sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks, and her warm breath came pantingly, till the last scene, where the mother acknowl edges herself to her son, and at the ter rible "si son quella," heightened by Parodi's inimitable acting, she sprang from her seat, and would have shrieked from excitement, had not Mr. Thornton? who had been watching her, laid his hand on her arm to recall her to herself. Thornton was amustd, as well as in terested; her had never seen quite such a natural young lady, and seldom as pretty a one. In truth, to the fashion able man, Lilly Floyd was delightfully refreshing and piquant. And now the day before Christmas had arrived. The display in the store w'ndows was so tempting, that the purse clasps of the veriest miser flew open as if by magic. J Lilian and her cousin were going home from a walk that afternoon, and Lilly almost returned to her belief in the re ality of the riches of the Arabian Nights; jewelry, splendidly finished work boxes, writing desks, books in all the gorge ousness of green and crimson, blue, purple and gold bindings, faiily bewil dered her. The fathers of families were hurrying home with well filled baskets, where plump turkeys, and crimson cran berries, and crisp celery, and rosy cheeked ajples lay in most tempting con fusion. The mothers were bending un der huge dolls, prancing horses, whole menageries of animals, and locomotives which never went except by gravitation; laughing half-grown school girls, had their muffs filled with pretty toys, and inviting bon-bons for younger brothers and sisters, so delighted with the pleas- ure they anticipated giving, that ihey could scarcely keep their own secret; and little boys stood gazing into the shop w.nJotfs. with their hands in their pock- ........ els, and their chins in their comforters, debating in their own minds which of the articles before them tlipy would coax i papa to buy. It was a perfect carnival of mirth and happiness. Crowds cf happy-looking children, and as happy-looking parents filled the street; the very dogs (risked and jumped about, and run between your feet, as if Christmas time was a matter of importance even to them; the middle of the streets were filled with light sleighs, uicu skiminea aiong like origin colored birds; the excited horses dancing and prancing to the voice of the driver, and to the silvery music of the tinkling bells. iwnigiit had arrived, and the stars i came out, and yet still the crowd did not diminish. Parlors were beginning to be brilliantly illuminated, and through the undrawn curtains could be seen gay pictnres in gorgeous frames, and large mirrors giving back light for light to the heavy chaudeliei. In some, festoons of evergreen, from which gleamed the crim son of the holly berry, were gracefully drooping on the walls, and the happy faces of dear little children were pressed against the window panes, peering at the gay groups in the street. As Lilian and her cousin were ascend ing the steps of their own house, a little boy about nine years of age acosted them. There was something so wan and sad in his pale face and sunken eyes, that Lilian slopped, though she had been much laughed at by her uncle's family, on account of her sympathies for street beggars. Harriet entered the door, saying, "Come, Lilian, he is an imposter, you may be sure." But hr cousin was listening to the child, who Eaid, in an imploring voice, "Oh! won't you please give me some thing, Miss?'' "Do you want some money for Christ mas?" was Lilian's smiling answer. "No, Mies, but my mother's very ill, and my little sister died to day, and I ain't used to begging, Miss." As he spoke this, he burst into tears. "Do you live far from here?" ques tioned Lilian. "No, Miss, only ft little way around the corner, up Greys court." "Come, then, I'll go with you;" and forgetting the lateness in the impulse of the moment, off she started. When Harriet entered the parlor alone and Mrs. Floyd asked for her cousin, she replied, "Oh! the is at the door, talking to some beggar. Her Quixotism is perfeot- ; ' ! ' ' j ly absurd. She is not as used to impos tors as we are," continued she, on see ing Mr. Thornton seated on the sofa. "Well, the hall door must be closed, at least, partially, for too much cold air comes in," said Mrs. Floyd. Permit me to do it for you, madam," said Thornton, as he arose and went to the door. But Lilian was not at the steps. "She should not be out herself, at this time of night," thought the gentleman, and straining his eyes as he looked up and down the street, he thought he recogniz ed her figure as she passed under a gas light some distance ahead. To go back in the hall, snatch hi3 hat from the table and pursue her, was the work of an instant. As she turned the corner, he hastened hi j pace, fearing to lose sight of her. He beheld her now enter a dark, dirty-looking court, lighted by one lamp, with two coal heavers plodding sullenly along, and a drunken man staggering home over the hard trodden snow that crunch ed under his feet; the whole presented as strong a contrast as possible to the street which he had just left. The place looked as if the Christmas festival had never been instituted for its inhabit ants, as if (he great event which the next day was to commemorate brought no amelioration, no glad tiding3 to them. The only sign of the happy jubilee was a group of children standing under the light, examining with eager, almost envious eyes, a small drum and a clum sy yockei knife, exhibited by two of their triumphant companions. Just as Lilian and her little guide reached the door, they were joined by Mr. Thornton, who said, "You are very imprudent, Miss Lil ian, to go out at so late an hour; I had to come after you." "Oh, I didn't think about it, Mr Thornton; and I suppose I am; but there is a poor womm very ill here, and her baby is dead." The boy opened the door, and they entered a room, tolerably clean to be sure, but with none of the comforts, and scarce any of the necessaries of life. A tallow candle, running in huge gutters. standing on the rude mantle shelf, threw a dim, worrying kind of light through the room; the floor was bare, and the furniture consisted of a broken stove, two dilapidated chairs, a deal table, and a camp bedstead, with a most scanty sup ply of clothing. Lilian was far from rich herself, but she had nevca seen anything to equal this. None, except those living in large cities, have an idea of the extreme pov erty of some of the poor there. On the bed lay the living mother and me oeau miant logetuer. A coarse, Lard featured woman was at work on the piece of white muslin, that was to robe ti,e little form for its last resting place:' and the poor mother wept as she thought 0f the bright Christmas day that would pass so happily to so many little children, Bnd to so many fond mothers, and of the cold winter storms that would howl around the grave of her child: and of the white winding sheet of snow that would cover it; and of the violets and birds that would be there in the spring- tine. She wept, too, as "one without hope," for the poor human love of the mother could not yet look up with the ' eye of faith, and see her babe with the white winged band around the Great Throne. Arthur Thornton stood by the door in j silence. He had never witnessed a scene j like this either. A new phase of life was revealed to him He knew that there were such poor, 6uch very poor people, but a fortunate life had never before brought him in contact with them. He was not a sel fish cr unfeeling man, only prosperous and thoughtless one; but as Lilian Floyd bent over the bed and with the sympa thetic tenderness of a truly kind heart, talked to the woman, as if she had been used to the haunts of poverty all her life, he silently vowed that hereafter, the talent committed (o his care should cot lie unproductive. Lilian, in the meanwhile, was gather ing the history of the sick woman. "I am a widow, and used to sew, Miss, for the shops," said she, "till I got a cold in the fall, carrying some work home in the rain; then I was laid up. and it camo dreadful hard on us; for I didn't get enough money to put by, Phil ip only got a dollar a week, for being errand boy in grocery store. And his money, Miss, I had to take for rent ." "Was the baby sick long?" asked Lilian. "Yes, Miss, about two months. She took the fever from want of food and fire; it was that that killed her," and the mother burst into a passion of tears. "And the doctors didn't care, Miss," continued she, "to come to see us poor people, when there ain't much chance of j their being paid. They tell us to go to the dispensary physician, but when we get too ill to go to them, we generally go to the grave next." "But have you had no help, all this time?" again asked Lilian, almost ap palled. "The neighbors have been very kind, and gave us all they could, but they are most as poor as us," was the reply. Thornton, during this conversation, had sent the boy for a physician for the moth er, and taking a bill from his pocket book, had ordered him to procure what ever was wanted from the grocers. After slipping some money into the hand of the sick woman, Lilian arose to go, promising to call the next morning. "Isn't it horrible," said she, when they got into the street, to her compan ion, who seemed buried in thought, "isn't it horrible to think that a little child should die from want in sue a a great city?" "I never before realized it myself," replied Thornton, "I have always wrap ped myself np as in my own comforts. that the cold winds of poverty could not pierce them." As he spoke, he again fell into thought for Lilian Floyd had nnconciously, by her benevolence that night, sown seeds that were hereafter (o bring forth fruits for the great harvest of eternity. Mrs. Floyd scolded her niece in a lady like way for running home with all the beggars who might choose to impose up on her, and after hearing Lilian's story, said that she would order the housekeep er to put up some wine and other thiDgs and send them by a servant, but that it was not proper for her to go there again. Harriet laughed contemptuously and somewhat spitefully, and slid it was a new way to create an interest in the heart of a fashionable gentleman. .Notwithstanding these insinuations, Lilian was early with the bereaved moth er on that bright Christmas morning. She now thought the coarse, hard-featured woman, whom she had seen the night before, absolutely beautiful, when she discovered that the little grave dress had been purchased from her own hard earnings, and sf w her place the stiffened form of the dead child in the cofin with j such motherly tenderness, and drop I tears on the waxen fingers when she crossed the little hands. Oh! death, and poverty, and sorrow, that come in such terrible guises, how little do we know, when we tremble at your piesence, that we "are entertaining angels unawares." The little coffin had been borne away, and the poor mother lay on the Led in all the agony cf inconsolable grief. An old worn Bible was on the mantle shelf, and Lilian, who had determined 10 la7 tl:e neiS,lbor should return, took " down ED(1 commenced reading. "Suffer liuIe children to come un unto me, nnd forbid them not, for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven." And then she turned to the fifteenth chapter of Corinthians. Gradually the sobs from the bed became less frequent and loud, while in a low reverential tone tbat Sradually rose 10 one of exulting, Lilian read on "So when this corruptible shall have Put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that ls written, death is swallowed np ia vic-j otj. Oh, death where i thy sling? Oh, grave where is thy victory?" Unnoticed by the young reader, Thorn-1 ,oa had entered and stood with bowed head, such tears filling his eyes as he had ( not shed since he stood by the grave of j his mother, and there seemed to come him the same child like peace there j to, when he knelt by her knee when a little boy and prayed, "God bless me and make me good." j A few days after this, Lilian took her j departure for her village home, but not ' til! Mr. Thornton had told her that he had procured more comfortable lodgings . for her protege, and a more lucrative sit uation for her son. The glorious summer weather had ... one reiuneu irom a wait one uny, when her mother said: j "A friend from the city was here whilst you were out, Lilly." j "A. menu oi mine irotu toe city: wuu ; was it, mamma? "The Mr. Thornton, whom you used to write si much about, as being polite ; to you " j "Mr. Thornton." exclaimed Lilian, inj surprise, "why who does he know here? Q i What did he come for?" "To fish, he says," responded the! mother. "To fish!" But Lilian made no oth er comment. The hotel keeper, with whom Mr. come again, and lle meadows were green, and the waters sparkled, and the leaves msllcd around Lilian's ' home. . j Thornton boarded, said it was strange that he always went down the street to go fishing, for he had to!d him several! times that the trout streams were in quite a different direction; but when, in the next autumn, a handsome travelling n AF s nf . carnage whirled oil whu isirs 10m Floyd and Arthur Thornton, and little Lilian as a bride, to the city, the good mm nodded his head, and laughed one of his full, mellow laughs, as he said to a neighbor: 'This comes of trout fishing, and Miss Lilly's Christmas Visit. METHODISM AND MUSIC. fact above the pews. This will never do over Methodists will make grand good wor used shipping Christians if they are not aham- deot oy its service oi nnsi, anu we uave a right in it, and an interest in it, as com young mon Christians, too great to suffer us to see signs of degri eracy in it without Rev. Hexrt Ward Beecheb, during his summer vacation, preached at one of the Methodist churches at Mattewan, on the Hudson, and gives us, in one of his letters, the effect produced on him by the backslidings of the congregation from "old Methodism" in the matter of sieg ing. He says: By the way. yesterday morning I was at the Methodist church here. A very pleasant room it is, and I am told that a very worthy society occupy it. But I have a most weighty charge to bring against the good poople, of musi cal apostacy. I had expected a treat of singing. There were Charles Wesley's hymns, and there are the good old Meth odist tunes, that ancient piety loved, and modern conceit laughs at! Imagine my chagrin when, after reading the hymn, up rose a choir from tha shelf at the other end of the church, and began to sing a monotonous tune of the modern music book style. The patient cougre gation stood up meekly to be sung to, as men stand un-Ier rain where there is no shelter. Scarcely a lip moved. No one seemed to hear the hymn, or to care for the mucic. How I lenged for the good old Methodist thunder! One good burst of old-fashioned music would have blown this modern sinking out of the window like wadding from a gun! Men may call this an improvement, and genteel! Gen tility has nearly killed our churches, and it will kill Methodist churches if they give way to this false and pernicious am bition. We know very well what good old-fashioned music was. It had faults enough, doubtless, against taste. But it had an inward purpose and a religions earnestness which enabled it to carry all its faults, and to triumph, in spile of them! It was worship. Yesterday's music was tolerable singing, but very poor worship. We are sorry tLat justasourchurche are befinnirrrtoimitfttetheformereximnle of Meihcdist churches. , and to introduce melodies that the people love, and to en courage universal singing in the congre gation, our .Methodist breihera should pick up our cast-eff formalism in church It will he worse with them than music. null us. It will mark a greater length of decline. We could hardly believe our eyes and ears yesterday. We could not persuade ourselves that ire stood before a Methodist church. We should have supposed it to be a good solid Presbyte rian or Congregational church, ia which the choir and pulpit perforraod every thing and the people did nothing. Our brethren in this church mast noM take these remarks unkindly. They are presented in all kindness and affection. The choir sung better than many choirs in city churches, but no one sung with them. The people were mute. They used their cars and not their mouths, But alas! we missed the old fervor the good old Methodist fire. We have seen the time when one of Charles Wesley's hymns, taking the congregation by the hand, would have led them up to the gate of heaven. But yesterday it only led them np as far as the chcir, about ten ed of their own ways, but very poor ones if they aie. Brethren, you are on the wrong way. It will never do for you to silence the people. Your fire will go out if you rake it up under ashes of false re- Dement. Let an out sider, but a well- wisher, say these plain words to you with out offence. The Methodist Church has laid the christain world under a great; ...... ' t r - . 1 t We hope God means sorrow anu aiarui to do great things by it yet, for our land. But it will not be by giving up heart and soul, zeal and popular enthusiam in woisuip, tor me sa&e ui su.nu propriety and tasteful formalism, that the Methodist Church will become yet further efficient. We hope to see such a revival of relig ion among them as shall come like a freshet uPon .ur churches, and sweep out the " J J dead wood and trash which has already damned up the current of song, and made the congregation stagnant. Oh, that there may be a rain of righteousness upon them, which shall swell to overflow ing, and cleanse their sanctuary from all formalism, and especially from the form alism of pedantic music 1 ! For the Farmer. THE KITCHEN. Talk of the parlor with its touch-me-not elegance we care nought for it. Let its covered magnificence rot in darkness. its red velvet lie in shrouds if pictures gazs dimly througa crape, its splendid piano stand, dumb in its linen cover its orsted roses and pinks, and gilt flowers remain unplucked in dark corners, its carpet bloom unseen. Let shutters and double curtains exclude every ray of light; it is welcome to its darkness and its solitude, while we can have the pleas ant, airy, yellow floored, uncarpeted kitchen. This is the place for real enjoyment; the kitchen with bright shelves and clean white tables, white with time. 1 he kitchen with its comfortable old easy chairs and broad shining hearth, and crackling blazing fire. We do not mean the kitchen of the great house, where lazy servants have entire control, and the lady of the house never sets her foot within its precincts, but the homely, comfortable kitchen of the well-to-do-working man, where the tea kettles sing together, and the little children prattle- around their mother, while her hands set the table for tea. There may be snow ia the gloaming, or sun arrows lodged in the tops of the trees there may be city walls about, or blue water and undulating hills. It mat ters not in such a place, everything smacks of pure comfort. Make the kitchen attractive and pleas ant by all means. How absurd to keep one room in a constant state, as it were, for the pleasure of a chance call, or a few party going friends. We wish not fur ther evidence of a bad house keeper, than to see her parlor in full dress, her kitchen down at the heel, and her cham bers in confusion. Make your home place the most agreeable, or if your many duties allow not lime to attend to them as thoroughly as you wish to its adornment and refinement, throw open the door for your family to enjoy it. Pray, who should not? Boston Culii-tivator. VALUE OF FALLEN LEAVES. No manure is so well worth the sav ing, in October and November, as the : now Wulag leaves ot the season. Ae- -M5 to 1'ayne, liiey contain i nearly three times as much nitrogen as ordinary barn-yard manure; and every farmer who has strewn them in his trenches late in the fall, or in December, must have ! noticed next season, how black and moist the soil is that adheres to-the thrifty young beets he pulled! No vegetable substance yields its woody fibre and becomes soluble quicker than leaves, and from this very cause they are soon dried up, scattered to the winds nnd wasted, if not now gathered and trenched in, or composted before the advent of severe winter. As leaves are poor in carbon, and rich in alkaline salts, as well as nitrogen, they are especially valuable in compost with menhaden fish manure, and dead animals, poor ia potash, but abounding in carbon and lime phosphates. But the great value of leaves, is ia the extra ni trogen they contain. - Prof. Jackson truly says, that the compounds of nitrogen not only decompose readily themselves, but they also induce the elements of other organic matter with which they are in buuLdub iu bkuuic new lurms, w enter into new chemical combinations ; and according to the long continued and va ried Rothnmsted experiments of the inde fatigable Lawes and Dr. Gilbert, nitro- ' gen in its compound form ammonia, alto I exeris the same potent influence on the j inorganic or miners! elements of the soil, rendering even sand into the soluble food of plants. Yet every farmer or gardener ought to know that his own mechanical aid in trenching or plowing, in order to kerp his soil peimable and absorptive. is iudispensabie to aid nature in devel oping her chemical process. Ftaniford Ilendd. Wistex Apples. Now i the time to tk care of jour apples for winter keep ing. Pick them carefully from the trees by hand, in a dry day, put them in open barrels or boxes to go through the first sweating process, after which they are ready for final packing away for winter. If you expect apples to keep well, do not be too stingy of your pains in putting them up. Avoid every bruise, and fmra first to last handle the fruit as carefully as you would a delicate baby. A good apple in the spring is a greater luxury than an orange, which will cost from fire to ten cents. And if the same care in saving is exercised, they can be had ia perfect order for a good deal less money, OAto Cultivator.