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ALUMNI ORATION AND POEM. A beautiful copy of the Oration and Poem delivered before the Alumni Association of Tufts College, July
12. 1865, lies on our table.
The Oration, entitled " The Demands of the
Country upon the Cultured Man," by Elmer Hewitt Capen, is a finished specimen of oratory - refined, classic, embodying severe truths in clear and beautiful language, and clothing the loftiest sentiments of loyalty in words burning with eloquence.
Brief, terse and comprehensive, are the sentences which glance backwards to the time when our forefathers sought these shores - the time "when the glorious divinities, Liberty and Learning, walked hand in hand, and the wedded pair took passage in the Mayflower," and forward to the sad, yet glorious events of later years, which are described in glowing words.
The long extract from the Poem, by George Curtis Waldo, which will be found in our present number, will, we trust, make our readers desire to peruse the whole poem. The tribute to our martyred President is beyond any thing we have seen since his death.
The Oration and Poem are bound in one volume, beautifully printed on fine paper, and in different styles of plain and ornamental binding. Published and for sale by the New England Universalist Publishing House, 37 Cornhill, Boston, at $1.25 per copy.
LESSONS ON THE SUBJECT OF RIGHT AND WRONG. Crosby & Ainsworth have published a neat little work for the use of Families and Schools, with the above title. Seventeen questions, at the end, are answered in the body of
"THE PRESIDENT'S WORDS." Under this simple and unaffected title, a book, small in size and attractive in appearance, commends itself to American readers, and embodies sufficient wisdom and good sense, to make it acceptable to our friends across the water.
His own record of his life, comprised in a few
Now, that the smoke and din of battle has
passed, we may well begin to count our gains
and losses. A man in the cars, the other day, affirmed, with foaming mouth and profane but an increase of tares! Have we gained speech, that we had gained nothing, by this war, nothing? Is it nothing that slavery has received its death-blow? Is it nothing that they who have so long been pining in bondage, have come out into the glorious light of Freedom? Free to choose the path of honorable labor - free to enjoy the sacred institutions of family rights and privileges—free to worship God? Is it nothing, that the overseer's lash is to be laid upon human backs no more? If not, then indeed have the martyred hosts lain down their lives in vain. In vain have the good and the brave fallen.
Thank God! there is not one true heart among us that will echo that intemperate speech. We know how vast has been the sacrifice. We also are learning to know how grand and glorious will be the result. Only learning? Yes, only learning. Great truths may strike us at first; but it takes time to incorporate their grandeur with our deepest thoughts — to take them in as a part of our very being. In after years,
it will be almost difficult to realize that the great, hideous blot of slavery ever sullied the fair fame of our nation. And when that time comes, it will be when every disloyal heart shall have renounced its sin and folly, and risen into the great principles of freedom for all.
O, waste not thou the smallest thing
For grains of sands the mountains make,
O, waste not thou the smallest time, "Tis imbecile infirmity;
For well thou knowest, if aught thou knowest, That seconds form eternity.
In a certain town in Connecticut, it was voted, against the wishes of the elderly part of the congregation, to tear down the old church and build a new one. One old lady was especially bitter on the subject. Finding that it was actually determined on, she waited upon the building committee, and charged them not to destroy the pulpit. They promised to take it into consideration, and, if the majority agreed to have it in the new church, they would cering tainly put it there.
Well," said the old lady, "they had best agree to it, for they'll never find sich a bit of sculpter as that agin!"
"A MOTHER" writes to the DRAWER thus My homopathic physician had furnished me with a list of articles of food, which he chose to prohibit while taking his medicine. It was read aloud, in the family. Little Frank was present at the reading, but no one supposed that he noticed it, as he was only between three and four years old. But, one day, as he sat at my feet, I bent my head to bite one of his golden curls.
THE aged deacon of a church being expostulated with, by one of the members, upon the impropriety of continuing his habit of taking a glass of liquor at certain hours of the day, answered, meekly, "Well, brother W., you know that we read in the Bible, What is one man's
"Mamma must not do that," he said, lookvery roguishly.
Why, pray?" I asked.
"Because Doctor G. says you must not eat young animals!"
The flesh of young animals was among the prohibited articles on the list.
OUR Small "two-and-a-half" walked into the nursery yesterday, with a very consequential strut, and, with a very contemptuous glance at his little frock, called out, "Nanny, bring me my long-tailed coat!”
AN old woman comes daily to our house, begging for food. She absolutely refuses everything but the most costly luxuries of the table. In vain, we offer her the best of bread, the freshest of vegetables, and all those nice little contrivances by which a well-ordered household is daily fed.
"Uncle John," said the visitor, "you are going home rapidly; you have only a few minutes to stay with us."
The dying man attempted to raise his head,
"No, ma'am," is her invariable answer. "I
but was too far gone. He feebly whispered, can't eat such things; but if you have some
"Jacob, which way is the wind?"
pies and cake, or a little preserve, I shall be glad of them."
She evidently thinks that plain fare is not worth begging for.
A COUNTRY friend writes to us:-"A reverend minister, who passed away half a century ago, was considered very effective in prayer.
IL believed that his forte was in praying at
THE CHOLERA. Sixteen years ago, the cholera made a brief visit to our shores, on its march from the East. Again, it is said, the same dread visitant may be expected. Are we prepared for its presence? Are our dwellings, our cellars, yards and out-buildings clean and in good order? Are there no hidden stores of unwholesomeness, that a little care and trouble will banish from our premises? If we look well to this- if we keep nothing about us to invite such a fearful guest, if we take no improper food or drink, if we bathe freely, live temperately, and keep a good conscience, we may await his coming, if come he must, with a calm, serene spirit, resigning ourselves to that Higher Power who will do all things well, and in His own time.
his manner and voice were solemn and impressive as ever.
He waited till the stir was hushed; then laying his hand upon the Bible, he continued, “My friends, you will find these words of my text in the thirteenth chapter of Nehemiah, twentyfifth verse."
A hundred hands were reached forth to the Bibles in the pews, and their owners were apparently satisfied that he had taken the text from a legitimate source.
We believe the pastor was not removed from the church until the hand of death severed the tie between him and his people.
A MORTIFIED ENTHUSIAST. A gentleman residing in an inland town is an enthusiastic admirer of Burns. When the birthday of the poet was about to be celebrated, he was desirous of being present. He had no wish, however, to partake of the feast, as he was a confirmed Grahamite; but he was bent on hearing the speeches, &c. He came to the city, and went to the Revere House, where he intended to pass the evening in his own room, until the "flow of soul" should commence.
A SOLDIER'S POLITENESS. A lady, who inks our soldiers entitled to much gratitude nd love, sends the following anecdote:One of our soldiers who has returned from he war, after a severe sickness at the hospital, hich still manifests itself in his pale face and maciated form, has been trying to get an onest living by travelling around with stationry and fancy goods to sell. He rang at a door he other day, and asked to exhibit his wares. haughty, gaily-dressed lady appeared, who ut the door in his face, saying:
No; I have no time to look at such things." Shortly afterward, the lady was out in a itter day, when the ice was really dangerous the streets; and she slipped and fell. Our oldier-boy happened to be passing at the moent, and kindly assisted her to her feet, saying leasantly,
"This is to pay you for helping me the other ay."
A haughty "Thank you" was the only notice he took of him; and, with a cold and angry ir, she turned away.
UNCLE DAN'S STORIES. Uncle Dan Hastings had a great ambition to be thought a wonderful sportsman, and related astounding stories in that line; although it was well known that the old fellow had a real fear of handling a musket, or any species of fire-arms.
He was descanting upon his exploits one day, and mentioned a very strange animal which he had encountered, but could not remember its
"Did you shoot it, Uncle Dan?" said his listener.
"Well, now, youngster, I did not kill him, but I treed him."
"Did you find out what he was?"
AUNT THANKFUL AND THE MIRROR. A weight." orrespondent writes,
Aunt Thankful, our next-door neighbor, who as lived very quietly all her days, was induced o go to Portland in the steamer. She had ever been on board of a steamboat before; nd, as it was very rough that night, Aunt Thankful was very sick. She crawled out of er berth, the next morning, with a feeling of gone-a-tive-ness such as she had never before known; and going towards the large mirror in the ladies' cabin, she encountered a haggardooking woman to whom she said,——
“Good morning, ma'am. Were you sick last night?"
Hearing no answer, yet seeing the pale lips move, she continued, in a sympathizing tone,— Oh, you poor critter! I know exactly how you feel. Sit right down and rest your stomach." And she reached a chair for the poor woman. But somehow, when Aunt Thankful grasped the chair, the haggard woman did the same, and it was some minutes before she found that it was her own image, reflected in the mirror, that she had been talking to.
LITTLE Ida, a dear little girl of five, earnestly regarding a funeral procession, asked her mother if dead people were not lighter than live ones.
"No, dear: they are usually heavier than when alive, as they are what we call a dead weight whereas persons who are alive help themselves, as you do when you spring into my lap. If you were asleep, you would be a dead
Now, mamma," persisted the little one, "dead people must be lighter; because you know their souls are gone out of them, so that weight don't have to be carried."
And no reasoning would persuade her to the contrary.
A LADY having had the misfortune to upset a jug of cream over a satin dress at a tea-party, a gentleman present, a paper-maker by profession, consoled her for the mishap by saying that she had only "converted a satin-wove into a
A MARRIED man who was recently at a whist party, when he proposed to go home was asked to stay a little longer. "Well," he replied, "perhaps I may as well; my wife is probably as mad as she can be."
RAPID INCREASE. A New Gloucester correspondent writes:
Little Mary B- was a very sickly, delicate child. She had been ordered by a physician to take a glass of new milk with a teaspoonful of brandy, every morning. Her mother who was with her in the country, was writing to her father in town, and asked Mary what she should 18 Em hat
EDITOR WITH THE CHILDREN. | the articles she had lost, and found them in her
WE are is glad to believe that our monthly interview with the children is giving pleasure to the little people whom we greet. Turning from graver and more severe toil, it is pleasure to enjoy the simplicity and freshness of our young friends to cull the fairest and sweetest flowers for them, and to feel that their fragrance is enjoyed and appreciated. Heaven bless the children! What should we do without them? And, as we cannot do without them, by all means, let us strive to make them as innocently happy as we can.
Feeling thus, we are resolved to prepare a monthly treat for our little friends and we invite them cordially to partake of it. We do not believe in giving them the refuse, or that which other people reject; but will try to give them good, simple, wholesome food for their minds, just as sensible and judicious parents give healthful and nutritious food for their bodies.
KEEP YOUR TEMPER. "I never can keep anything," cried Emma, almost stamping with vexation. "Somebody always takes my things away and loses them." (She had mislaid some of her sewing implements.)
There is one thing," remarked her mother, “that I think you might keep if you would try." "I should like to keep even one thing," answered Emma.
Well, then, my dear," resumed her mother, "keep your temper;' if you will only do that, perhaps, you would find it easy to keep other things. I dare say now, if you had employed your time in searching for the missing articles, you might have found them before this time; but you have not even looked for them.
A CHEAP MICROSCOPE. Almost everybody knows the utility of a microscope, or magnifying glass, as it is more familiarly called; but there are but very few persons who can construct one as cheaply, and in as short a space of time, as can be done in the following manner:-In the first place, buy a piece of lead (white lead is the best) as follows:-one inch and a quarter in length, half-an-inch wide, and one-sixteenth of an inch in thickness; and then, in one end-first with the sharp and then the blunt end of a pair of scissors — drill a small hole, varying in diameter, from one-quarter to one-sixteenth of an inch. Then drop into this last, a globule of the purest water, and then you will have a microscope of high magnifying power, and almost as perfect as can be made
You have only got into a passion a bad way of spending your time- and you have accused somebody, very unjustly, too, of taking away your things and losing them. Keep your temper, my dear; when you have mislaid any article, keep cool, and search for it. You had better keep your temper, if you lose all the little property you possess; getting in a passion never brings anything to light except a distorted face; and, by losing your temper, you become guilty of two sins, you get into a passion, and you accuse somebody of being the cause. So, my dear, I repeat, keep your temper.'"
Emma subdued her ill-humor, searched for by art. This will save many a juvenile the ex