t ‘ , ' _ _ , i - _. hm man-.tnlmrnw‘ mun A x l Titration. _.._â€"-â€" THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL. BY THE REV. HORA'I‘IUS BONAR, D.D. Up and away ! like the dew of the morning, Soaring from earth to its home in the sun. So let me steal away, gently and lovingly, ’ ‘ Only remembered by what I have done. My name, and my place, and my tomb all forgotten The brief space oftime well and patiently rum So let me pass away, peacefully, silently, Only remembered by what I have done. Gladly away from this toil would I hasten, Up to the crown that for me has been wonâ€" Unthought of by man in rewards or in praises, Only remembered by what I have done. Up and away : like the odors of sunset That sweetens the twilight as darkness comes on ; So be my lifeâ€"a thing felt but unnoticed, And I but remembered by what I have done. Yes, like the fragrance thatwanders in freshness When the flowers that it came from are closed up and gone, So would I be to this world’s weary dwellers, Only remembered by what I have done. Necds there the praise of the love written record! The name and epitaph graved on the stone, The things we have lived for let them be our story, We ourselves but remembered by what we have done. I need not be missed; if my life has been hearing, (As its summer and autumn moved silently on .) The bloom, and the fruit. and the seed of its season. Ishall still be remembered by wliatlhavc done. I need not be missed ; if anothnrsuccecd me To reap down those fields which in Spring I have grown, He who ploughed and who sowed is not missed by the reaper, He is only remembered by what. he has done. Not myself, but the truth that iit lifc Iliave spolum ; Nutr-lnxywlf, but the truth that in life I have sown, Shall pass on to ages, all about me forgotten, Save the truth I have spoken, the things I have done. So let my living be, so be my dyingâ€"- So lot my name be unblazuned, unkuown~ Unpraised and unmissed, I shall yet be re~ momherod, Yes, but remembered by what I have done. I "0‘ c ii (iii A: A ROMANCEâ€"BY CAPT. (Continued) Neither Virginia nor I ever dream- cd of an inequality. The association was by us desired and sought. We were both too young to know ought of caste. In our friendships wc fol- lowed only the prompting of inno- cent nature ; and it ncvw occurred to us that we were going- astray. The girls ft‘cqucntiy accompanied us into the forest; and to this we, the hunters, made no objcction. We did not always go in quest of the wide-ranging stag. Squirrels and other small game were oftcncr the objects of our pursuit; and in fol- M. REI D' lowino these we needed not to r: ‘ ' stray far from our delicate comâ€" pauions. As for Maumee, she was a hunt- rcssâ€"â€"u bold equestrian, and could have ridden in tho ‘ drivc.’ As yet, my sister had scarcely been on horseback. I grow to like the squirrelshootiug best ; my dogs were often left behind ; and it became a rare thing for me to bring home vension. In the lake, there was a beautiful and angry. islandâ€"not that which had been the scene of the tragedy, but 'one higher upâ€"-â€"near the widening of the river. Its surface Was of large extent, and rose to a summit in the centre. For the most part, it was clad with timber, nearly all evergreenâ€"as the live-oak, magâ€" gnolia, illicium, and wild orangeâ€"â€" indigenous to Florida. There were zanthoxylon trees, with their conspicuous yellow blossoms; the perfumed flowering dogwood, and many sweet~scented plants and shrubsâ€"the princely palm towering high over all, and forming, with its wide-spread umbcls, a double canopy .of vcrdurc. The fair island lay about half-way between the two homes; and of- titen young Powell and I met upon it, and made it the scene of our sport. ‘There 'were squirrels among the trees, and turkeysâ€"sometimes deer were found in the gladcsâ€"andfrom its covered shores we could do exe- cution among the waterâ€"fowl that sported upon the lake. . Several times had we met on this neutral ground, and always ac- , companied bv'our sisters. Both de- lighted in the lo’Vely spot. They "used to ascend the slope, and seat ' themselves under the shade of some stall palms that grew on the summit ; while we, the hunters, remained in the game-frequented ground below, ‘ ~causing the woods to ring with the reports of our rifles. Then it was. our custom, when satiated with the sport, also to ascend the hill, and deliver up our spoils, particu- ' larly-when we had been fortunate enough to procure some rare and I SCARBoRo: .1'\/\/\4V\’/‘\/V\/ V01. Io And beyond this, beyond listening and looking, my love had never gone. No love-words had ever passed betWeen‘ 'us ; Ieven knew not whether I wasbeloved. My hours were- not all blissful ; the 'sky was not always of roseâ€" - colour. The doubts that my youth- ful passion was returned were its clouds; and these often arose to trouble me. . . About this time, I became un- happy "from 1another cause. I perceived, or fancied that Virginia took adecp interest 1n the brother of Maumce, and that this was re :i-, procated. The thought gave the surprise and pain. Yet. why l should have experienced either, I could not i tell. I have said that my sister and l were too young to know ottght of the prejudices of rank or caste ;i but this was not strictly true. I must i have had some instinct, that‘in this free association With our dark- skinncd neighbors we Wore doing wrong, else how could it have made the unhappy l I fancied that Vir- ginia shared this fooling with me.-â€"â€"â€" Wc were both ill at ease, and yet we were not confidants of each other. l dreaded to make known my thoughts oven to my sister, and she no doubt lclt a like reluctance to the disclosing of her secret. One day we were upon the island, all four as usual. The hunt was over, and Powell andI had rejoined our sisters upon the hill. We had stretchcd ourselves under the shade, and were indulging in trivrul conâ€" versation, but I far more in the mute language of love. My eycs rested upon the objects of tny thoughts, toodtappy that my glances were returned. I saw lit- tle besides: I did not notice that there was a similar exchange of ardent looks between the young Indian and my sister. At that mo- ment I cared not ; I Was indifferent to everything but the smiles of Maumee. There were those who did observe this exchange of glances, who saw all that was passing. Anxious eyes! were bent upon the tableau formed by the four of us, and our words, looks, and gestures were noted. The dogs rose with a growl, and ran outward among the treesâ€"~â€" Thc rustling of branches, and gar- mcnts shining through the foliage, warned us that there Were people there. The dogs had ceased to give tongue, and were wagging their tails. They were friends, then, who were near. ~ , The leaves sheltered them no , longer from our View : behold my ; fatherâ€"my mother l Virginia and I were startled byi their appearance. We felt some ap- prehension ofevilâ€"arising,no doubt, from our own convictions that we had not been acting aright. \Vei observed that thc brows of both were i clouded. They appeared vexed1 My mother approached ï¬rst.â€" Thcre was scorn upon her lips. She was proud of her ariccstrycvcn mare , than the descendant of the Ranâ€"l dolphs. ‘ What 1’ exclaimed sheâ€"J what,l my children? these your compo-l nionsl Indians l’ 9 Young Powell rose to his fect,but‘ said nothing in reply. l-Iis looks betrayed what he felt; and that be perfectly understood the, slight.. With a haughty glance tOWardS‘ my father and mother, he beckoned to his sister to follow him, and walked proudly away. " Virginia and I were alarmed and speechless. We dared not say adieu. We were hurried from the spot ; i and homewurd Virginia went with my father and mother. There were others in the boat that had brought them to the island. There were blacks who rowed ; but I saw white men too. The Ringgoldsâ€"both father and sonâ€"were of the party. I returned alone in the skiff-~- While crossing the lake, I looked up. The canoe wasjust entering the creek. I could see that the faces of the half-blood and his sister Were turned towards us. I was watched, and dared not wave an adieu, al- though there was a sad feeling upon my heart-21 prescntiment that we were parting for longâ€"-â€"perhaps for ever! Alas! the presentiment proved a just one. In three days from that time I was on my way to the far north, where l was entered as a cadet in the military academy of West Point. My Sister, too, was l richly 'plumed birdâ€"an object of sent to one of those, seminaries, in curiosity or admiration. whicltthe cities of the Puritan pen- .2 I i r - graduate comes forth a scholar, not, Ismooth prosodiun, mechanic rhym- .ist of living tougucsnone who has .gist, ustrt‘ninitnrr. t‘ii_.;;niccr, soldierâ€"â€" “all; in short, :i man ï¬tted for the 'VVcst Point :1 littlc harder than clse- . image ofpicturcsquc beauty outlined had not forgotten the tableau on the ,t‘lot to be outdone by the ciâ€"devunt .stitutc worldâ€"~among other things, how to "day. .mirth appeared to me a little artiï¬- ‘all, her gentleness of heart. Perhaps YORK, MARKHAM, VAUGHAN, KING ‘\/V_W1W , VVWm./“\/W\.f " ./\1" AND WHITCH “ Let Sound Reason weigh more with us than Popular Opinionâ€, ple abound. It was long, long bc-l fore eith :r. of us again set eyes uponl the floWery land. CHAPTER XVII. \VES'I‘ POINT. The military college of West Point is the ï¬nest school in the worldâ€"â€" Princes and priests have there no power; true knowledge is taught,i and must be learned, under penalty of banishment from the place. The as from Oxford and Cambridge, the pert parrot of a dead language, stcr of of ldyllic rcrsc‘; lot a lingu- stu‘dicd science, and not neglected art-â€"a botanist. draughtsman, geoloâ€" highcr dutics of social Miceâ€"capable of supervision and command~~ equally so of obtzdicucc and execu- tion. The details of a cudct’s .cxpcricnce possess but littlo interestâ€"~21 routine of trnmotonons duticsâ€"Jmly at whereâ€"sat times but slightly differ- ing from the slave-lilo of a common . soldier. I bore thou) bravelyâ€"not that I was inspircd by any greatmi- litary ambition, but simply from a feeling of rivalry : I scorned to be‘ the laggard of my class. Long hngcrcd in my heart the love of Maumccâ€"long timc unaf- fected by abScncc. lthought the void caused by that sad parting , RICHMOND III would never be ï¬lled up. No other object could replace in my mind, or banish from my memory the snvcet souvenirs of my youthful loveâ€"â€" Morning, noon, and night, was thati upon the retina of my mental eve, â€"â€"by day in thoughts, by night in dreams. During all my :adetship, I never saw l‘lCrâ€"-llCV€l‘ even heard of her. For ï¬ve years I was an exile from homeâ€"and so was my sister. At intervals during that time we were I visited by our father and mother, who made an annual trip to the fa-1 shionable resorts of the north-â€" Ballston Spa, Sai'utogu, and New-i port. There, during our holidays, wejoincd them ; and though I longed , to spend a vacation at homeâ€"4‘ believe so did Virginianthe ‘mo- ther was steel and the father was stone,’ and our desires were not gratiï¬ed. I suspected the cause of this stern denial. Our proud parents dreaded the danger of a mesolliancc. They island. The Ringgolds mct us at the wa-‘l tcrtng-places; and Arcns was stillt niu. He had become a tashionablc quursrte, and spent his gold freelyâ€"â€" tailors and stock-brokers, who con- the ‘uppcr ten’ of New York. I liked him no better than over, though my mother was still his backer. l How he sped with Virginia, I could not tell. My sister was now quite womanâ€"a fashionable dame, a bollc~â€"un(l had learnt much of the conceal her cinotionsâ€"â€"one of the. distinguished accomplishments ofthc She was at times merry to an extreme degree ; thdugh her cial, and often ended abruptly.â€"â€" Sometimes she was thoughtfulâ€"not unfrequen'tly cold and disdainful. I fancied that in gaining so many graces, she had lost much of what was in my eyes more Valuable than I was wrongiug her. at: is as a as Five years soon flitted past, and the period of my cadetship was ful- ï¬lled. With some credit. I went through the ordeal of the ï¬nal exa- mination. A high number rewarded my application, and gave me the choice of whatever arm of the ser- vice was most to my liking. I had a penchant for the rifles, though I might have pitched higher. into the artillery, the cavalry, or engineers. Ichose the ï¬rst, however, and was gazetted brevet-lieutenant, and ap- pointed to a rifle regiment. with leave of absence to revisit my native home. A At this time, my sister had also ‘graduated’ at the Ladies’ Acaâ€" demy, and carried off her ‘ diploma ’ with credit ; and together we jour- neyed home. ' .There was no father to greet us on our return: a weeping and LE1, i « w. FREDAY, JUN E 3, l \vidowed mother alone spoke thel A vile frontier press, ever rea melancholy Welcome. CHAPTER XVIII. I THE SEMINOLES. that the cloud of war was gather- ing over my native land. 5 soon burst, and my ï¬rst essay in mi-L litary life would be made in the defence of hcartli and home. I was not unprepared for the news. W is aquys the theme ofintcrest with- in the walls ofa military college; in no place are its probabilities and, prospects so fully discussed or with j so much earncsu‘icss. For a period of ten years had thcl United States been at peace with! all the world. The iron hand ofl ‘ Old Hickory ’ had awed the savage, foe of the frontiers. For ‘morcl than ten years hadithc latter desisted from his chronic system ofrctalia-l tion, and remained silent and still.i But the pacific stalu qua came to an i cud. Once more the rod man rose to assert his rights, and in a quarter most unexpected. Not on the fron- tier of the ‘far west,’ but in thc heart of the flowery land. Yes. Flo. rida was to be the theatre of opera- tionsâ€"the stage on which this new war-drama was to be enacted. A word historical of Florida. for" this writing is in truth a history. , In 1821, the Spanish flag disap- peared from the ramparts of San Augustine and St. 'Marks, and Spain yielded up possession of this fair provinceâ€"~onc of her last foot- holds upon the continent ofAmcrica. Literally, it was but a foothold that the Spaniards held in Floridaâ€"~a inch nominal possession. Long be- fore the cession, the Indians had ldrivcn them from the ï¬eld into the fortress. Their haciendas lay in ruinsâ€"their horses and cattle ran wild upon the savannas; and rank weeds usurped the site of their once prosperous plantations. During a century of dominion, they had made many a fair settlement, and the» ruins of buildingsâ€"far .more mass- ive than aught yct attempted by their Saxon successors~altcst the former glory and power of the Spanish nation. It was not destined that the In- dians should long hold the country they had thus rcconquercd. Another race of white men---thcir equals in courage and strength~wcre moving down from the north : and it was easy prophecy to say that the rod conquerors must in turn yield possessron. There was a treaty,but what cared they for treaties? Adventurers~w starved-out planters from Georgia and the Carolinas, ‘niggerâ€"tradcrs ’ from all parts of the south; what lassiduous in his attontions to Virgiâ€" i were covenants In their e} 63- esl’e' cially when made with red-skins 'lâ€" The treaty must be got rid of. The ‘Great Father,’ scarcely more scrupulous than they,approved their plan. ' ' ‘ Yes,’ said he, ‘ it is goodâ€"the Seminoles must be dispossessed ; they must remove to another land ; we shall ï¬nd them a home in the west, on the great plains ; there they will have wide hunting-grounds their own for ever.’ ‘ No], responded the Seminoles; ‘ we do not wish to move ; we are contented here : we love our native land ; we do not wisl: to leave it ; we shall stay.’ ' Then you will not go willingly? Be it so. We are strong, you are weak ; we shall force you.’ Though not the letter, this is the very spirit of the reply which lack- son made to the Seminoles l The Indians remained obstinateâ€"â€" they liked their own landâ€"they were reluctant to leave itâ€"no won- der. Some pretext must be found to disposscss them. The old excuse. that they were more idle bunters,and made no proï¬table use of the soil, would scarcely avail. It was not true. The Seminole was notexclu- sively a hunter ; he was a husband- man as well, and tilled the landâ€"â€" rudely, it may be, but was this a reason for disposssessing him? Without this, others were easily found. That cunning commissioner which their ‘Great Father" sent On my return to Florida, I found, l . lothcr Side? It wouldl l. and 1 Drive him out l l l to give tongue to the popu furor, did not fail in IIS duty exaggeration. vocations, the r‘etalliations. the wrongs and cruelties inflicted by the All these were care- fully concealed. ' ,A sentiment was soon created URCH ADVERTISE \/vW\_/- R. W\7,mp\,W\/ TERMS: $1 50 In Advance. ‘ No. 27. with us. The chieflaid down his weapons and came into ourcampt .when our wife used the ï¬ne comb on his head till his gratitude was as But who Was to gazette the pro- lively as his head was, and he was so tickled that he offered to marry my wife, and show me where gold. plenty. Ilove my wifeâ€"you know that, George; but thinking I might die before I get rich, and feel- 5W young man never afterwards?!†against the Japanese, in my hearing- There was one old. man, who» lived at a short distance, Who took. a particular liking tome, and. often made signs that, ,he' wanted: me to go With him. Istarted» one‘l'day, and he took. me under convoy, and showed me round the neighborhood. He led me among ï¬elds ahd‘ houses, aed into a temple, or‘pla-ce of} roll» gious worship, where-he tried: hard to explain to me what I. saw; but I could not make out his meaning at, all. and shook my head, and told him he had better give it up as a. bad job. As he had free access to! the building, and the people about it: seemed to treat him as if he had .some authority in it, I judged that he was keeper, or sexton, as we might call him. The old man then insisted my going home .with him, who “e be introduced me tohisi wife, one of the most friend‘y. neat and notable liousckeepersl ever saw. She set before me the best food she had, and, although I could form no idea what some of it was made of, throughout the countryâ€"a scnti- ing that I must make some property arid was not hungryil thought In)?" Titus was the sentiment These became the pcâ€" the west l’ expreSsed. pular crics. It would be easy. all supposed, to accomplish the pepular will, to dis- possess the savage, hunt him, drive him out. Still there was a treaty. The world had an eye, and there was a thinking minority not to be despised who opposed this clamor- ous desire. The treaty could not be broken under the light of day; :‘how, thcuf was this obstructive t covenant to be got rid of? (To be continued.) A RICH LETTER FROM PIKE’S PEAK. From the Milwaukee, (\Visconsiu,) NeWS. We give below a letter written from Pike’s Peak by a well known citizen of Horicon, now at Pike’s Peak. Every word can be relied on as true, as the writer is well them could soon invent pretexts.‘ He was one who well knew the art of muddying’the stream upwards and well did he practise it. The country was soon ï¬lled with rumours of Indian outragesâ€"of horses and cattle stolen, of planta- tions plundered, of white travellers robbed-and murderedwâ€"all the work of those savage Seminoles known, in Wisconsin, as a man who has the greatest regard for truth. There is evidently gold thereâ€"â€" Pike’s PEAK, March 8, 1859. dug Dear Brother :â€"â€"-I promised to write you a good, long letter. as soon. as I arrived here ; and I take my pen in hand to let you know that we are all well, and hope these Away with him to taken the ï¬ne iment of bitter hostility towards the to leave my Children, ICOIISGMCd'IO 3" l Seminole. . self bound to eat a little, and this, t l the match, and she has gone offwith with my talking a little Englile comb with" her. Come out with your wife, and bring a ï¬ne comb, brother George. I am going to leave these dig- gings for a better one. It is too much trouble to tug and pry up the great big chunks of gold t“that. weigh half a ton or so, and are so thick you cannot get them out without danger of breaking your legs, and ‘Kill the savage! Hunthim downl the Indian, Who Is a gl‘eatChlef, and Pomtlng at things around me With .an enquiring look, and new and, then. giving a hearty laugh, seemedi to pay them for all their trouble. It was pleasing to see that the common people did not, conï¬ne their kindness or good manners to stran- gers. They seemed to practice them equally towards each other. In all their conduct and language, so. far as I had an opportunity to judge, am going up to a ravine, where all I have to do is to go to the top of a high mountain and roll it down to the river. The country here is true, butgtthcr My boys got so winds are awful. # light with eating roots thatI can only keep them by me or together by piling lumps of gold about as big as mallets on their shirt-tails as the little innocents sit down on the grass to play. Everything grows here. I can raise twenty bushels of wheat to the acrc. Oranges, lemons and all such colored fruits grow wild here; while melons, pears, apples, peaches and apple-dumplings are so plenty that they ï¬nd no market. Sell off what you have in Wiscon- sin. and come out here. You can get rich in a little while, and go‘ back in such styles that will astou- ish the nativ s. ,. Give my love to all the folks around the corners. and put a no- tice 0n ghe school-house that they few lines will ï¬nd you enjoying the can get an outï¬t in Chicago for $200. Same blessing. You know we left â€"-Qome out here, dear brother, by Horiconofor the land of gold about 3†me‘ï¬US. thclst of February, and we arriv~ ed here yesterday. My wife stood the journey ï¬rst rate, but my ï¬ve Oldest boys were nearly tired out when they reached here. June, the little sis, is happy as a lurk, and says, “ Tiss Uncle Georgefor me,†God bless her sweet heart. ' We had all the hardships in the world before we got here. We lost our horses at Dubuqucâ€"they were stolen from us. We got some oxen and lost them one hundred miles from Onaha.â€"â€"Wc then tried wheel-barrows, my wife and I wheeling by turns, till the Indians stole our barrows. We then walk- ed, till the Indians stole our provi- sions, and my family got sick, so I had to carry them all on my back. Our money gave out long before and for two weeks we travelled through a wilderness where the foot ofman never trod; in this condi- tion, seeing no living being, and without money to purchase even a cracker at any of the groceries along the line, we all lived on roots till my children all looked like pigs, from rooting so long, and Ihave carried my family on my back till I am so round shouldered that I can only see the blue sky and bright sun by looking between my legs up to. heaven’s canopy that way. I lost two hundred pounds offleshâ€"horse meanâ€"when I started from Dubuâ€" que, or we should have got along better. I read in the Milwaukee news that Pikes Peak was a humbug. But it ain’t, and the News knows it as well as I do. We got here inl the morning, after walking all night, and though we were tWGnty-four hours in the country, we are not well off, but have a good prospect. There is gold here-lots of it._ The gophers digit out ofthe ground by the bushel, and in the moonlight the whole earth for miles around looks like heaven when with its3 myriad stars, or like a pretty girl with yellow freckles. The wood- chucks dig out bushels and bushels of it, and the snakes in this country look like solid gold ones, from crawl-‘ ing among gold chunks.-â€"It is found, in all-sized pieces, from the size of a hcn’s egg up to the bigness of a large stone, and of the finestquahty. \Vc have raked together what lay ioose on an acre of ground, and have twenty-two piles aboutas big as a large sized hay~stack. Last night two hundred Indians came to rob us of a set of silver spoons and a ï¬ne comb that my wife had to use on the children, and we barricaded our house with rocks of gold until they could not gain admittance, and were forced to beg 4:0 make friend . - Yours, a‘ï¬â€˜cctionatcly, » JOHN SMITH. A FEW DAYS IN JAPAN. I was in Commodore Perry’s sqadron, while he was at Japan, and was once sent ashore to make some observations ofthe coast. interesting to navigators, with a small party of men, who remained with me sever- al days and nights. We were all very ignorant of the character and condition of the people ; and I soon discovered some traits and pecu- liarities in them which surprised and gratiï¬ed me. At the ï¬rstintcrview _wc had with those who lived near- cst the spot where we landed, we were treated with kindnessand good manners. They expressed plea- sure at seeing us, and showed a cordial wish to gratify us, mingled with a cautious care‘to avoid the appearance of obtrusive curiosity. _We had brought a number oftools and instrments with us, as we in- tended to erect a temporary shelter near the sewbeach, and required in- struments to make cerain observa- tions. Having brought all these from our boats, and laid them upon the grass. they immediately became objects of curiosity to the group of natives who had assembled around us. We soon observed that several individuals among them felt a much deeper interest. than the others, and, from their manner of handling and examining now this thing, now that, we easily perceived that they were mechanics or men of science. And during much of the time we spent there, their interest continued, being frequently eXcitcd anew, by seeing us ‘usc our tools and instmments. l I could not but be struck by the « su- perior intelligence which they dis- played in this, to most. and indeed I may truly say to all, the uncivilizcd people I had ever 'seen, in the many parts of the world which Iliad ever visited. One of our party, who was fond of underrating everything not his own, or in some way or other con- nected with himself, one day spoke contemptuously of the Japanese. I said to him : " Will you be so kind as to inform me where. in your ex- tensive navigation, (it was his first voyagc,) you ever found a better- behaved 0r kinder people? Let me ask you further, whether, if youi were now at home, you would bet willing to leave a set of tools, and a collection ofinstrumcnts like these, spread out exposed, without any- body to guard them, by night as well as by day, where your own neighbors could come, if they pleas- ed, and help themselves 2†The they were polite and friendly. I could not. but admire the simpli- city and chcapness of the Japanese houses. The climate, it is true, is. so mild as to render our thick walls substantial roofs, strong foundations and large appartments in a great moasurc unnecessary ; but yet it seems as if they displayed wonder- ful ingenuity and an extraordinary share of good sense, in making con- venient and cheap substitutes for all-i these. The houses are small, and often thrown into one or two rooms, but these may be, in a moment, di~ vided into half a dozen, or perhaps. a dozen, by sliding in thin partitions, formed oflight frames, covered with, paper, Thesc make a separation between the little apartments, comm ‘ pletc in all respects except with ten gard to sound, which, ofcourse, can. pass more readily through a thin. than a thick partition- And. their families generally present a cheerful. appearance, one important advan- tage being everywhere observableâ€"- they are perfectly neat- ‘and cleanly, rich and poor, old and young, great. and small, down to the youngest little children. OUT IN. THE FIELDS- If one Would study a marvelous- ly beautiful revelation ofthe power and goodness of the Creator, let; him go out in the ï¬elds, just now clad in all the splcndors of the Spring, and to beyct more glori-v ously garmented under the breath of Summer. In this season of the- renewal ofthc life of natureâ€"this time of endless bud and blossom: types of resurrection and immorâ€" tality, what other page so fraught with teachings, to cheer and in» spire the soul? Who can go out in the ï¬elds and, read the lessons of the grasses, and leaves, and flow-e ers, and listen to the ean-ticles of the brooks and birds. and drink in the fresh. air and the joyous sun~ shine, and not feel that there is a. God, ever-loving and bountiful, who bestows upon man, even here upon the earth, only a little less than paradise! Who can go out in the ï¬elds, where every verdant. sod is an altar redolent of music, and incense, and not feel to wer- ship and adore the great Father, who has made the world so beauti-- fuli Out in the ï¬eldswâ€"Q weary, busy, strife-cugcndering man, go. thither and feel the tender, chastcn- ing inspirations ofthc daisies and the Iillies~â€"of the lillies, “which neither toil nor spin, yet Solomon. in all his glory, was not arrayed like one ofthese.†God be thanked for the unspeakable riches that lie- out in the green and flowery ï¬elds. Kane Goon COMPANv.â€"Inter- course with persons of decided virtue and excellence is of great im- portance in the formation of a good character. The force of example is powerful; we are creatures of' imitation. and by a necessary influ- ence, our habits and tempers are very much formed on the model of those with whom we familiarly associate. If men could find the fabled foun- tain that is said to restore youth and health and beauty, with what eagerness they would rush to drink its waters. Yet with scarcely less eagerness do they now rush to drink of waters that bring upon them pre- mature old agc and disease and loathsome ugliness. That is indeed a twofold know- ledge which proï¬ts alike by the wisdom of the wise and the folly of the foolish. It borrows its securit from the darkness, and its confl - ence from the light.