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ful we have had his labors, his influence, and all the better that Nature has so long worn her his example so long, and pray God that he sullen garb. may be succeeded, in his corps, by another as brave, as good, and as faithful as the leader they have lost.

How wonderfully the war is developing this

kind of literature. Every week adds a new Opens upon a scene to-day that seems in uni- list to the already marvellously extensive ones son with the sad scenes now enacting in the gone before, and not a little of it is of a really far-off city of Butleytown, where they bear the superior order. The best of it has been probrave Birney to his rest. It is a dreary day, duced by the chaplains of the army, and they such an one, indeed, as we have, every day for have given us an inside view of the army and more than four weeks, looked out upon; for the war, which we should never have had with. during all that period it has been incessantly out them. They have thrown a more cheering dreary, and rain, rain, without one day's ces coloring over the aspect of some portions of sation, has been the portion of us dwellers in the Southern army than we have at all looked Central New York. As I look out upon the for. A work now before us—“The Color scene so beautiful in bright weather, I see noth-Guard” – really, in some of its pages, induces ing but weeping trees, their bright, autumnal us to believe that, by and by, “When this leaves bedraggled and faded like an old calico cruel war is over, we shall become hand in dress. They look like war-times and high glove with even the “poor whites," and find prices, and as if taxes and other burdens had them jolly brethren.

The author, a young quite put it out of their power to purchase prencher, learned to see more good in the hard, new attire, and they were sullenly holding on rough, barbarian “white-trash” than in their to their old rags like many a sentient human despotic rulers. Some goodness of heart, some creature. The stooks of corn stand up in the humanity ; and after meeting and talking with field, brown and limp, or, overturned by the them after the capture of Port Hudson, he felt storms, lie forlorn and moulding under the his“ hostility to those fellows much mitigated.” universal drizzle. The barnyard fowls go slink-Oh, it will do good in the end! We shall all ing about in their wet feathers, neither Chan- live, I trust, to see the good that will grow out ticleer por Dame Partlet having the least in- of this contest ! clination to cackle or to crow; while the ducks, though they bravely “quack, quack” about

A GREAT man of England, Canning, the the yard, evidently have enough of water with prime minister, is the author of the following out resorting to the puddles.

simple but shrewd lines :Well, it never did rain without stopping sometime, and so every morning and every

“ Tell me, tell me, gentle robin, evening we prophesy fine weather; and we

What is it sets thy breast a-throbbing ? have no doubt that, after a time, when it has

Is it that grimalkin fell done raining, our prophecies will be fulfilled,

Hath kille:l thy father or thy mother, and we shall pass for a wondrously weatherwise

Thy sister or thy brother, woman.

Or any other? These rainy autumns are undoubtedly in many respects a blessing. They fill the earth “ Tell me but that, with water, giving vigor to vegetation and

And I'll kill the cat. preventing the possibility of a winter-drought, But stay, little robin, did you ever spare that fearful calamity, when the springs disap- A grub on the ground, or a ily in the air?



was indeed no real flower before him, had re“ There is an angel in whose hand

stored his childhood, and every influence which There is a book which hath

could give strength to him in such an hour.

Another curious instance was related by one The names beloved enshrined to stand * In life — till death.'

of the survivors of that terrible catastrophe, Two names — we know not when

the loss of the steamer Central America, some He wrote unbidden;

years since, when four hundred persons were Lo! from the sight of men

drowned. The survivor relates, – No more are bidden.

“I guess I had been about four hours in the By no apparelled priest

water, and had floated away from the rest, The miracle was done ;

when the waves ceased to make any noise, and Love was the mighty alchemist

I heard my mother say, 'Johnny, did you eat Who made them one!

sister's grapes !' I hadn't thought of it for twenty years at least. It had gone clean out of my mind. I had a sister that died of consump

tion more than thirty years ago, and when sbe We do not realize, or know, how indelibly was sick - I was a boy of eleven or so — a impressions and thoughts may be stamped upon neighbor had sent her some early hot-house the heart, even when they may seem the most grapes. Well, those grapes were left in a room fleeting. They may disappear from the memory, where I was, and — I ought to have been skinand the brain may fail to have cognizance of ned alive for it, little rascal that I was — I de

Mother came to me after I them for a lifetime, when suddenly, in the far-voured them all. away years, when death is approaching near

had gone to bed, when she couldn't find the us, they will flash like some bright picture be- fruit for sister to moisten her month with in fore our mind, and we live them all over again. the night, and said, “Johnny, did you eat sisWho can account for this? Who can tell us,

ter's grapes ?' I did not add to the meanness when the impression has lain dormant for half of my conduct by telling a lie. I owned up, a century, perhaps, to reappear in our weak- and my mother went away in tears, but without ness and exhaustion when the last vestige of flogging me. It occasioned me a qualm of conmental power seems dying out ?

science for many a year after ; but, as I said, Several instances bearing upon this mystery

for twenty years, at least, I had not thought of are related, which are full of interest. Two or

it, till, when I was floating about, benumbed three of them we shall transcribe.

with cold, I heard it as plain as ever I heard A young soldier in India, faint and weary • Johnny, did you eat sister's grapes?' I don't

her voice in my life, - I heard mother say, with the long march in the tropic heats, scarce

know how to account for it. It did not scare ly recovered from a dangerous wound, fell out of the ranks and sank down by the roadside,

me though. I thought it was a presage of my while his comrades moved on, apparently leav

deatis." him to die. As they wound along in the

We can all of us recall some incident of a distance, their music fading from his senses, he similar nature, when a voice or a vision seems leaned despairing against the tree at whose base

to return to us in a moment when most needed he sat, and resigned himself to his fate. But to give us strength and determination to bear just as he was closing his eyes, apparently for

on still. But what is the secret of the mystery the last time, a simple dandelion blossom met

who can tell ? his sight, and with it all the dear scenes of

We are glad to offer our readers something childhood, home, and mother swept before his from our associate, Mrs. Soule, who has fur vision as distinctly as if they had been really there. “Come, my son, come, try again!” low, over her initials, are hers.

some time been silent. The articles which folsaid his mother, when a strange and wonderful revulsion took place in his whole being. Strength returned to his limbs, and resolution The industry of the American people! Do and energy to his spirit. He rose to his feet, you ever pause, friends, in these exciting times, and walking vigorously on, soon overtook his and ponder on it? There is something beside companions, continuing with them through the war going on in this country of ours ; ay, a entire march, and living to return to his home good deal. Thousands after thousands of staland mother. The visionary flower, for there wart men have left their homes and business to


0. A.S.

follow the career of a soldier, mayhap to find unprotected, fearless and mighty, a Gibraltar long life and glorious honor, and mayhap to in the moral world, swaying no more to the die of lingerinz disease in camp or hospital, or dictates of policy, or the venom of slander, fall at some mad shot upon the battle-field ; than moves that huge rock when the winds roll and yet, how busy every workshop, mill, fac-over it, or the waves lash its sides. Cowards tory, store, office, place of business, name it what drop their weapons as he approaches ; enemies you will, continues to be. Industrious! Why, slink to the fence ; spies swallow their ciphers, We were never more so than now. We not and he returns a conqueror. “I will !” - ah! only plough and sow and reap our old farms, it is the synonyme of greatness. The boy but the present season sees millions of virgin grows into a man while he is speaking it, and acres inheriting the promise of seed-time and the man towers into a Hercules. harvest. We not only run our old mills, but new ones are being built in almost every bam

IF MOTHER COULD ONLY NURSE ME !” let, – mills to grind, and mills to spin and weave. Machinery of every kind is pressed

At the Sanitary Bazaar, held in Albany, N. into the most active service, while inventions Y., during the past winter, we were shown a are so common that nothing startles us any bullet that caused the death of one of the memmore. Our commerce, too, with uninterrupted bers of the Ninety-Seventh New York Regiment, success, is floating its white sails over every at Antietam. He was wounded by a ball passsea, and unfolding our starry banner in every ing through the upper part of both thighs, harbor. Steamboats, gorgeous as oriental pal. breaking the bone of one of them. He was aces, are running upon every river ; while the also shot through the flesh of his arm and in his iron horse, with Herculean tread, is making head, and in this condition was being carried tracks over every prairie. In a word, as an

from the field, when his comrades were forced

As he lay on the appreciative friend of America in England ob- to drop him and retreat. serves, we are “developing, at this time, greater ground with his head towards the enemy, this resources than any nation in Europe is capable ball passed under the right collar-bone and outof showing.” High, but merited praise !

side of the ribs about twelve inches. The man. ifest injury to an artery rendered death certain

within a few days; but he seemed determined I WILL."

not to die, and he assured the surgeon that " if

his mother could only nurse him, he would reIt is a strong expression, but we like it. It cover.” On the eighteenth day, the artery burst, has the ring of true metal. It isn't the pigmy's and he quickly perished by hemorrhage. No phrase, but the giant's. “Well, I don't know, mother could have saved him ; but was not his perhaps I may; I'll see about it,” says one faith the same childlike one that sooner or later man, and you may set him down as a skulking comes to us all in seasons of doubt, trial, and wretch, - one of those degenerate specimens of emergency, - that if mother were only here, we humanity who would rob orphans of their could live through it all ? father's legacy and take the bed from under a sick widow,- one of those miserable cowards who trembles at the lightning and shudders at the thunder. “I will,” says another man,

On hearing of the slaughter of the Thirtyand you look up into his face and feel at once

Second Iowa, at Pleasant Hills, La., many of there is something to be depended on in him. them my own brave townsmen. There's energy in his blood, there's strength in Cold are the sleepers, his muscle, there's power in his brain, and if Wrapped in their shrouds ; his heart's in the right place, there'll a force

C. A. S.

0. A. S.


Pale are the weepers

on on from the 11 mal

The bottle bon bowed

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There is no flock, however watched and echo, even, from the far blue depths above. tended,

Are the mysteries of heaven too much for huBut one dead lamb is there ;

man understanding that thou, too, art mute, There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, like all the hosts who have gone forth before But has one vacant chair."

thee? - gone forth, launching their frail barks

- Longfellow. upon unknown waters, bound for that haven One day, there came to me, from dear friends from which no voyager ever returns. far away, a sorrow-laden missive. It bore

We have thy folded robes, thine empty couch ; these mournful words :-—“Our little Minnie

we have thy tiny grave, in which was laid, Josephine has just breathed her last. Oh, it with bitter weeping, the marble image of thy was so hard to part with the dear child ! so

lovely self, - all, all we have of thee, save lov. hard to see her die!" I could read no further. ing memory! Oh, may the heavenly Father My tears were falling like rain, and my heart pour his balm of Gilead into the wounded hearts pierced to its tenderest depths with the keen that yearn, and yearn in vain, for thy dear presarrow of pain. My precious little niece, mine ence! Oh, may he make us fully understand and my sister's namesake, was dead !

thou art not lost, but that at last, in a better From our wide family circle, the first dear home, we'll find thee gladder and more beautilamb had been snatched away forever ; from ful than ever here ! among all the little ones we cherished as immor

But tell us, cherub bright, wilt know thy tal flowers, the first bright spring blossom had mother there? thy father, thy brothers, and been taken. We knew our lamb was safe in the thy sister? Wilt know the kind friends that heavenly fold, perhaps borne upon the very love thee so fondly? Shalt thou forget, and we bosom of the loving Saviour ; but, oh! to miss remember? Nay, nay, for love and memory ber, and nevermore to take her to our yearn

are immortal ! ing hearts ! We knew our beauteous blossom

Then cease these idle questionings. One said was transplanted to delightful gardens, where of such as thou, “ Their angels do always death and night and anguish cannot come ; but, behold the face of my Father which is in oh, to look upon her vacant place, to miss the heaven.” This is enough for us to know, unsweetness of her presence, to be denied the til the veil is rent aside. sight of the lovely flowret's rare unfold.

Oh, dear, sad friends! May our tears enrich ing!

our hearts ! May this sorrow make us better ! A brief span, indeed, was her life with us,

Let us wisely learn the lesson which this hard, only thrice twelve months, – and yet, eternal hard parting teaches, the lesson of humble years cannot obliterate from memory her meek submission, of faith in God, of patient waiting, and gentle ways, the vision of her fair and and triumphant hope of immortality with Jelovely face, nor the accents of her voice of mu.

sus Christ! sic. She was an angel with her pinions folded ; alas ! all too soon she spread those szowy wings and soared away, away, up to her native

In two Series. skies!

Oh, thou dear one! our yearning hearts go out after thee with questions of infinite import.

I. Ought it to be done? Who opened the pearly gates for thee? Who

II. Ought it to be done now? led thee through the glorious portal, and point

III. Ought I to be the one to do it? ed out to thee the wide, fair fields of heaven ? Who first told thee that thou wert safe at home in th Father's house ? Say, little one,

T. Ought it to be said ?
did thy

II. Ought it to be said now?
fred, long dwellers in that bright III. Ought I to be the one to say it!

M. S. D.




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