to the past with bitter self upbraidings, but they must be forthwith given up, or both baby Mr. Duncan, with his charateristic kindness, and mother would concur in raising a domes bids her cease to reproach herself, always tic storm. If an important paper, or any avering that it was his own fault in consent- thing else of peculiar value was missed, when ing, in the first instance, against his con- inquiry was made for it, the chances were science, to the purchase of that superfluous twenty to one that it had been given to the piece of furniture, the crimson damask win-baby-and on such occasions Mr. Vincent's dow curtains. "If the baby was asleep, no one was allowed to speak except in a whisper, on pain of instant banishment; the piano was closed, the guitar was tabooed, boots were interdicted, and the bell was muffled. If Mr. Vincent wished to enjoy a quiet segar, he must go out of the house, lest the smoke might hurt the baby'-and, lest the street door might disturb its slumbers, he must make his exit by the back way, and reach the street by the garden gate. The Doctor was scarcely ever out of the house; not because the baby' was ill-for indeed it was most alarmingly healthy-but because she was afraid it might be taken with some dreadful disease, and no doctor near.' If coal was placed in the grate, either Mr. Vincent must put it in lump by lump with his fingers, or Thomas must come in on tiptoe, leaving his boots below, lest the noise should disturb the baby.' Mr. Vincent might lie in one posture until he was full of aches from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot; he must not move or turn over, for fear of waking the baby.' And yet he must not take a bed in another part of the house, because the baby' might be attacked by the croup, or might cry to have some one walk up and down the floor with it in his arms, and then he would not be within call. In short, when the baby' slept, the whole house was under a spell, whose enchantment consisted in profound silence and unbroken stillness, and all who came within the magic circle were at once laid under its influence. "On the other hand, when the baby' was awake, the household was equally subject to the tyranny which seemed to be a condition of its existence. If Mr. Vincent's watch chain attracted its attention, the watch must come forth, and be delivered over, at the imminent risk, and to the frequent smashing of crystals and face. If the baby' cried for the porcelain vases on the mantel, or the little Serves card basket on the table, they were immediately on the floor, or in the crib' beside it, and were soon afterwards in many pieces. If it wanted papa's papers, either chagrin or vexation was treated with merited indifference. If, as often happened, after obtaining every thing within its mother's reach, and breaking every thing that could be brok en, the baby' still cried immoderately and annoyingly, it was quite as much as Vincent's life was worth to express the least vexation or impatience. He might be roused from a sound sleep, and forced to get up in the cold ten times in the night for something for the baby,' and yet a murmur and a natural wish expressed to know the necessity of all these things, was high treason to the household sovereignty. The lawful master of the premises had sunk, like a deposed monarch, to utter insignificance, and become the lowest servant to the young usurper. The mother was the Grand Vizier of the little Sultana, and in her name ruled every one, herself included, with an iron rod. There was no law but the will and pleasure of the despot, and no appeal from her determinations." LOVE THY NEIGHBOR. FOR others' weal let good men labor, And not for fame or paltry pelfAnd mind the maxim, "Love thy neighbor, As much as thou dost love thyself." Deal gently with thy erring brother, Forgive, as thou wouldst be forgiven, If here we love not one another, How can we dwell in love in heaven? And should thy feeble brother stumble, And often fall upon the road, Though poor, despised, deformed and humble, Just raise him up, and point to God. Crush not the heart that's almost broken, But light up hope and banish fear; Will heal the wound and dry the tear. [From the St. Louis Reveille.] TO MY BABY SLEEPING. BY DORA. SLEEP on, my babe, sleep sweetly on, Thy mother guards thy slumbers, And breathes into thy sleeping ear Music's soft soothing numbers. Sleep on--let thy transparent lids Over thy dark eyes close; Those eyes that yet may learn to weep Over more than infant woes. Yet while thou canst, sleep peacefully, My own, my darling one— A brilliant flower, a singing bird, Oh, what a beam of radiance, Rests on thy snowy browMethinks a white-winged angel throng Are whispering to thee now. They kiss thee for thy lashes dark, That slept as o'er a lake The soft rich shadows now are partedMy Dora is awake! BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS. "ALTHOUGH the loss of a friend often afflicts us less by the momentary shock than when it is brought back to our minds some time afterward, by the sight of some object associated with him in the memory-of something which reminds us that we have laughed together, or shed tears together; that our hearts have trembled under the same breeze of gladness, or that we have bowed our heads under the same stroke of sorrow. one behold the sun sink quietly below the horizon, without leaving any thing to betoken that he is gone, while the sky seems to stand unconscious of its loss, unless its chill blueness in the east be interpreted into an ex So may These are the sights and sounds that charm pression of dismay. But anon rose-tinted And bind thee like a spell. Sleep on, loved one, sleep sweetly on- That loves a home 'mong twining bow'rs I do not ask that thy young heart Sleep on, my babe, thy pillow is What joy to clasp thee and to catch That steals from out thy rosebud lips, clouds-call them rather streaks of rosy light -come forward in the west, as it were, to announce the tidings of a joyous resurrection." "There is healing in the bitter cup. God takes away, or removes far from us, those we love, as hostages of our faith, (if I may so express it;) and to those who look forward to a reunion in another world, where there will be no separation, and no mutability except that which arises from perpetual progressiveness, the evening of life becomes more delightful than the morning, and the sunset offers brighter and lovelier visions than those which we build up in the morning clouds, and which appear before the strength of the day. Faith is that precious alchemy which transmutes grief into joy; or rather it is the pure and heavenly Euphrasy, which clears away the film from our mortal sight, and makes affliction appear what it really is, a dispensation of mercy." "In thy silent wishing, thy voiceless, unuttered prayer, let the desire be not cherished that afflictions may not visit thee; for well has it been said, 'Such prayers never seem to have wings. I am willing to be purified through sorrow, and to accept it meekly as a blessing. I see that all the clouds are angels' faces, and their voices speak harmoniously of the everlasting chime.' "The sorrows of a pure heart are like May frosts, the forerunner of a fervent summer time. The tears of the compassionate are sweeter than dew-drops falling from roses on the bosom of the earth." PROUD AND POOR. "What was that?" "She gave Tom Higgins fifty dollars when he drove her back, but there was something better than that, sir." "Indeed! what was that?" 66 While THE family of Mrs. Brown, a poor and good widow, consisting of six daughters, had the misforune to be poor and proud. Above the gross vulgarity of manual labor, though Why, sir, as we came back, we passed a not above its necessity, they lived "stuck up" little wood and she stopped the carriage and in idleness, and depended on the hard earn- stepped out with the rest of the party, and ings of the mother for support. Finally, Ma- Tom Higgins and I, and went into the wood. ria, who was the youngest, and rather pret- It was toward sunset and the wood was beauty, managed to win the heart and hand of the tiful, sir. She walked about a little, and village physician, and got married. The al- picked up leaves and flowers, and sang, like liance being considered as a decided step up to herself, as if it were pleasant. By and by in the world" by all the family, the single she sat down on a rock and began to sing sisters grew lazier and prouder than ever, loud. She sings some, sir, and it sounded a while the docter's wife took a new and im- great ways. But before she stopped, a little proved set of airs to match her advancement bird came and sat on a bough close beside us. in the scale of "good society." Being com- I saw it, sir, with my own eyes, the whole of fortably bestowed in her new house, she be-it-and when Jenny Lind had done, he began gan to feel the need of somebody to mind her to sing and shout away like she did. pots and kettles; and seeing a neighbor, (a he was singing she looked delighted, and thrifty mechanic, who used to be "boss" to when he stopped she sang again, and, oh! her father in the same shop) going past the it was beautiful, sir. But the little bird door, she called out to him in an affected man- wouldn't give it up, and he sang again, but ner, to know where she could find a servant not until she had done. Then Jenny Lind -expecting to get an offer of one of his sang as well as ever she could. It seemed daughters. "Well, I don't know," said the to fill the woods all up with music, and when carpenter; help is a little hard to be got just it was over the little bird was still awhile, now; but there is the widow Brown's girls but tried it again in a few moments. He who I should think you might get, as they couldn't do it, sir. He sang very bad, and are dreadful poor and seem to be always out then the foreign gentlemen with Jenny Lind of work. Some neighbors who overheard the laughed, and they all came back into the carsolloquy say that madam retreated into her riage." house with a precipitancy that was quite alarming to behold, and never spoke of the carpenter afterwards, but as a vulgar person, who knew nothing of the proper distinctions of society. MUSIC IN MAN. THE universal disposition of human beings, from the cradle to the death bed, to express their feelings in measured cadences of sound and action, proves that our bodies are con structed on musical principles, and that the harmonious workings of their machinery depends on the movements of the several parts being timed to each other, and that the destruction of health, as regards both body and mind, may be well described as being out of tune. Our intellectual and moral vigor would be better sustained if we more practically studied the propriety of keeping the soul in harmony, by regulating the movements of the body; for we should thus see and feel that every affection which is now connected with social enjoyment, is also destructive of individual comforts, and that whatever tends to harmonize, also tends to promote happiness and health. |