voice, bade me do as I did; a duty, whose omission would have pained my heart forever after-whose fulfillment, brought its great reward.

and my alms, wherever I see the silvery signet on its brow. On earth, save God, I reverence nothing more. I never see it, but I think of the children who mocked at Elisha, and against whom God sent a vengeance.

HOPE ON-HOPE EVER.

I looked not upon that old man as a beggar: No, he had been a happy boy, had felt the spring breezes kiss his spotless cheek and toss up his glossy bright hair. He had been a light-hearted youth, had touched his lips to the fountain of life when it was clear, Though friends may deseft, and fortune and sweet, and had been happy with high frown upon us, let us not despair.aspirations, and dreams of faithful love. Who ever gained anything by sitting down Finally, he had grown to manhood, passed and repining over his hard lot? It is true, the Rubicon, and seen in the distance before that some may thus, for a while, excite symhim, transcendently beautiful, the Mecca of pathy-but unless they exert themselves to life. Around him clustered his flock, beam-rise superior to their misfortunes, that syming their bright eyes upon his sobered face. pathy will soon degenerate into contempt― shedding a halo over his home. Happy than which no earth-barbed dart were man! a child, a youth, a man and a father, worse. We detest a drone or a mope-we blessed in affections that refined and puri- despise him who is ever repining over the fed him, and with affluence sufficient for past, nor stretches forth his hand to gather all the desires of life, could he ask for more? the blessings and enjoyments of the presCould he say to felicity, "Come nearer ent, and looks into the future with lack-lusto my soul?" tre eyes. They are their own tormentorsno worse punishment is needed.

upon

But hold! change and blight hang the issue of an hour. The wife of the happy man died, misfortune came upon him, and before the storm, passed away much that was bright. The old oak, shorn of the protecting forest, caught the lightning, and stood charred and blasted against the sky.The stout heart palsied and the hand with

ered at its task.

As for us, God has implanted in our heart, that Angel of earth, Hope, and amid the darkest conflicts of life, she whispers soothingly, "the future holds for thee, garlands rich and rare-repine not, but go forth with a strong and upright heart to meet thy fate, however dark it seems; it is

all for the best. Your reward is sure. I Did the fond, beaming eyes of children will never desert thee." And she has then smile upon the old man-the father? kept her word. Dark clouds and angry Nay! but with bitterness and reproach, his storms ever and anon burst upon us, and own blood thrust him forth, alone, into the still hang threatening above, yet her pleasworld! He went forth, he knew not whith-ant voice still urges us on to triumph and to er; not a beggar, but a venerable old man, cursed by the sting that is "sharper than a serpent's tooth." He was Lear, without the memories of a king. And this was not among savages, but in a Christian land!

bear.

We possess within ourselves, the germs of present and future happiness or misery, just which we choose to nourish and call into exercise. Every new idea, every generous and There are souls rude enough to mock at noble action-every conquest gained over old age like this. Who can ridicule even ignorance and vice, possesses charms for a grey hairs? I cannot. Mendicity nor rational, thinking mind, which gold cannot erime could stay in my heart the rise of a purchase, nor its myrmidons with tyrannitender feeling toward one so clad in liverycal arms take away. What though friends has my sympathy have proved false and deserted us-we care

for the

grave.

Old age

not.

We bless the wind that has blown the with this miserly miniature Lake. chaff away.

It was

always ready to receive, never to give. The stream which carried the mill whenever its strength was sufficient for the purpose, came winding its way through the forests and at length turned around the base of the hill, which was the barrier of the waters of the pond, as though it would seek acquaintance with the waves, which were ever dashing at

Turn we then to the converse of the good, the wise and the gifted of all ages, as they look down upon us from the shelves of our well-filled library. In such company, we can cheerfully forget them, and our sorrows also. In such company we will grow wiser and better too—can we say as much for the the top of the hill. Some wise-acre became

beau monde?

"Let us then be up and doing,

With a heart for any fate,

Still achieving still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait."

THE TRUANT POND.

possessed of the idea, that water could be
borrowed from this pond to swell the mill-
stream and make the mill a summer as well
as winter laborer. This doubtless might
have been done, had suitable precautions
been taken and proper locks preparel
But the nature of the soil was unknown, or
little attended to, and some two or three
persons undertook to make an outlet for the
waters above, and train them for the mill-
This was but the work of an hour.
race.
But the hard pan, which was the basin of the
lake, resting as it did upon a light sandy
soil, was hardly broken through before the
waters seemed to rush towards the opening,
and in a few moments began to wash away
a resting
the light soil which served as
place and support to the sides of the pond,
and were absolutely necessary to sustain the
edges of this mighty pan. As soon as this
was removed the weight of water would
break down the barrier, now made too weak
to bear up against a force, which it had re-
sisted for ages and the power becoming
stronger every moment, it was soon per-
ceived that no force could again pen up the

A few years since I was a spectator of a most novel scene in the Northern part of Maine. I was stopping at the time at the house of Dr. Blake in the village of Phillips, on the banks of the Sandy River, a branch of the Androscoggin. About six miles above this village, and a few rods from Sandy River, there was situated a valuable flouring mill on a small stream which emptied itself into the River, after having expended all its energies upon the mill before named. Quite unfortunate for the owners of the mill, the waters of the stream were insufficient for their purpose, for months during the summer season. And it was very desirable that they should have more power, than was afforded by the unassuming and unnamed stream. A half a mile from their mill was a very beautiful pond of some sixty or seven-waters which madly leaped through this ty acres in extent, and in the middle some forty or fifty feet deep. This pond was fed by a small stream. But though it swallowed up this tiny tributary, it did not seem to increase its proportions, nor was it disposed to yield a tribute itself. How it preserved this unsocial position, it is impossible to show; but such, I am assured was the fact. Whether its inlet, swollen by rains, or the melting of the snow, poured into its bosom many times its wonted supply of waters, or diminished to the tiny stream, it yielded its feeble but ceaseless tribute, it was the same

new channel. The cry was given to those occupying the mill and the houses adjacent, and the operators and occupants had barely time to escape when the mighty waves reached the buildings, which with all their strength, could not resist for a moment the onward rush of the waves. It not only swept the mill with a dwelling house contiguous, but it cut a deep channel, where the mill and house had stood, and not a stone of the cellar nor one of the huge boulders on which had rested the mill were to be ound. All were swept away into the chan

nel of the Sandy, and soon its swollen wa- | slime, both to him who has sought their aid, ters gave us at the village the assurance, and to those who afterwards mark his that something unusual had taken place stained and blackened appearance. But above us, on the river. The Dr. proposed not to moralize, we soon came in sight to me a ride up the river, which was at once of the mighty channel which an hour or accepted. We had gone but a short dis-two previous had no existence. On one tance when wrecks of buildings and furni- side of the chasm we saw trees suspended ture was seen covering the singular looking by their roots from above, whose tops hardly river, the waters of which were now nearly reached two thirds the way down to the dark black with the sediment from the pond, as rolling waves below. The trees thus suswe afterwards discovered; but it sadly puz; pended were the white birch and the popaled us at the time. We hurried up to the lar. The bank on that side, was, as near as place where the mill had once stood, and we could judge, seventy-five feet high, on witnessed here the devastation which the the side on which we stood, it was about waters had wrought. Here we left our team sixty. After contemplating this scene for a and hurried up the stream towards the place few moments, filled with emotions its granwhere the waters, which were now astonish- deur was calculated to inspire, we were ing us with their power, once lay quietly.- seized with the desire to go up into this baThey were now nearly exhausted; and were sin, whose side had so wonderfully fallen much lower than they had been at this out. It was impossible to pass up the chanpoint, some few moments before. We now nel, for the water was still several feet deep saw on the banks what we supposed were and ever and anon, the bank was caving black stones, scattered by hundreds along from above,and a mighty avalanche of earth the margin of the now fast narrowing and trees, and stones were pouring into the stream. We soon had abundant evidence channel below. The stream here was worn that real and seeming are not always the some ten or fifteen feet lower than the botsame. For we came to a place where the tom of the pond, and a channel had already water made up into a small creek; it was been worn some rods up into the lake, the very difficult going round it, as in that case, sides of which were caving in, so that it was we must make our way through the bushes, constantly working up farther into the which were very thick, and what was worse great basin, acres of which were even now very wet. We saw with joy that these sup- uncovered with water. As we conceived the posed stones were peeping up through the desire to see more of the inside of this holwater at such convenient distances, that we low, now partially drained, than we could conceived it an easy task to pass over on see by looking up this channel, we turned them. No sooner thought than attempted, and took a circuitous route up the hill, until as we supposed by this course we could not we came to what was once a shore. What only clear the water here, but gain the mar- a sight did we now behold! Who can desgin of the stream inside the world of alders cribe the scene which was presented before that skirted it. Judge then what was our us? It is impossible to convey to the mind disappointment and chagrin, when stepping of one who did not witness this sight, any upon the first stone, we sunk nearly to our adequate idea or conception of the sublimi knees in a black slimy substance which we ty and grandeur of the scene before us. afterwards discovered had formed a part of From the bank on which we stood a line of the bottom of the lake. We had enough of a hundred feet would hardly reach to the our stepping stones, and could not help opposite bank, which, but a few hours be thinking of the politician, who has his step-fore, was connected with that on which we ping stones to power, many of them like stood; now there was a broad impassable ours having but the specious appearance of gulf between them. When we considered the stone, but giving abundant evidence of the vast amount of earth so sudden ly dis

SO

placed and regarded the agent of this great the life-current of the race. All the sympawork, we could but think of the insignifi- thies which cluster around the human heart cance of man, How long might he have are aroused at the alarming encroachments labored here to have compassed what the which disease is making upon the human waters have effected in mere pastime. If family. The character of disease is changthis agent has a power so transcendent, what ed; those of older date and type excite is the power of Him "who holds the waters nothing of the dread which their more modin the hollow of his hand, who makes the ern rivals create. Ship fever, cholera and dysclouds his chariot and rides upon the wings entery-dread triumvirate—have enshroudof the wind. Who weighs the mountains ined the globe with their victims. Nations scales, and the hills in a balance." An hour's have been decimated by their ravages, and meditation here, could not fail to impress their black wing has hovered along the man with a sense of his nothingness, and fill highways of commerce. The strong man him with wonder and admiration at the trembles at the doubtful tenure of his life. greatness of him whose agents are It is evident that long-continued violations mighty. I have never had an opportunity of the physical laws of our being have weakto view this place, after the novelty of the ened the vitality of the race, and to that scene has faded. But I believe that the cause can we trace the premature decay of facts as related above are soberly stated, cer- the citadel in which we dwell. It would be tainly there can be no exaggeration in a case sacrilege to charge the vast evil and its efso unique, and yet so grand. Q. fects to nature, for nature is kind. Her efforts are always for health-from the gathering of the dew-drop on the tiny floweret, to the raging of the tempest when the stormking is abroad. If man is responsible for the fearful increase and malignity of disease, the clarion of alarm should be sounded. hardihood of the race depends upon our efforts. What is needed? It is not medicines, for their profusion has long been deleterious. We must return to the noble, invigorating customs of the Greeks and Romans. We must establish the gymnasium and the baths.

HEALTH.

BY D. WELLS RANNEY.

WHAT an important interest does HEALTH sustain in social life. Not a friend meets

friend, but the first inquiry is about health. The foundation of beauty-the arbiter of our destiny-it controls the enjoyments of the human family. A boon as precious as that contained in the golden shores of the Pacific; yet its attainment is but idly regard ed. We are intrusted with the keeping of a temple "fearfully and wonderfully made." Should ever the "silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the wheel be broken at the cistern," from our violation of the laws of our being, we shall be held responsible for such trangression. A rapid declension in the life and health of man has taken place; for how few there are who do not mourn the early dead. Two-thirds of the human race have some chronic ailments which they have inherited, or entailed upon themselves.

The

Our fragile and delicate ladies must take to the open air. Health must be wooed in long rambles on the hill-tops, in equestrian journeys, and in the cultivation of flowers,

whose roseate tints will reflect their hues on the pallid cheeks. The perpetuity of the race depends largely upon those who are to fill the places of our once hardy mothers.

Out-door plays and pastimes, as the gracehoop, battle door, jumping rope, and skating and sleigh-riding, in imitation of Northern Europe, must become universal. Immediate attention should be paid to the subject of ventilation. All public and private rooms should be well ventilated, for every adult

Scrofula, in some of its hydra forms, taints person requires over two hundred thousand

cubic inches of pure air every twenty-four hours to properly oxydize the blood; while in that time is expelled forty thousand cubic inches of carbonic acid gas, which is des tructive to life. Bathing, as conducive to health, should be religiously performed. The Mahomedan, who, to fulfil the requirements of his religion, will bathe in sand when he cannot find water, ought to be an example to us. The skin is an important waste organ to the system, and its million of pores need a daily ablution to perform their health preserving office. Too much attention has been paid to the intellectual, to the neglect of the physical faculties. Our lunatic asylums are crowded with those whose physical energies were unable to sustain the excitement of the intellectual organs. Insane asylums are a modern necessity.

We must vie in the noble athletic games which endowed the Greek and the Roman with Herculean strength. If needs be, the tourney and the joust must be established, and the age of Iron must give place to that of Chivalry.

For the Miscellany.

REST AT TWILIGHT HOUR.

BY M. A. RICE.

Hie thee maiden, to thy bower,

Dream of truth and love,
Closing is the "sweet blue flower,"
The stars look out above,
Rest thee at the twilight hour,
And its enchantment prove.
Manhood, in thy noble prime,
Rest at set of sun,
Heavy are the toils of time,
But this day's work is done.
Labor is the art sublime,

Of Nature's noblemen.

Mother, with thy infant fair
Sleeping on thy knee,
Rest thee, for this quiet hour
Brings peace for even thee.
Thou art watchworn, pale with care,
Yet now let thought be free.

Blooming child, that all the day
Hath played where violets lie,

Or sought in innocence to stay

The fleeting butterfly,
Rest, while blissfully you may,
With half-closed angel eye.

Furrowed man of many a year,

With thy thin grey hair,
Let this hour thy spirit cheer,

Though life be hard to bear,
Twilight brings each loved one near,
Rest in thy old arm chair.

Christian, hath temptation sore,
Vexed thee with the light,
Hast thou seen on earth the power

Of sin, and wept the sight? •
Rest thee, not a grief deplore,
All above is bright!
Grand Blanc, 1852.

THE CONTRAST.

BY B. W. CHESEBRO.

Some years since I became acquainted with two men who were then teaching in Albany County. They were of the same age, the same condition in life, apparently of the same mental capacity, and both had fair prospects of being useful in their day and generation; but the one had acquired the habit, pernicious and debasing to any one, and especially so to a teacher, of spending his time, out of school hours, in gossiping with tavern-haunters; sometimes playing the violin for convivial parties, and sometimes in the destructive pleasures of the wine-cup, with no more thought of improv ing his mind, than if he had no such thing in his possession.

He continued to teach, but bad habits engendered in our younger days, seldom fail to assert their supremacy as years advance; and I will remember the prostrating blows I received from the hands of this drunken schoolmaster. Presently he would be found by the road-side in a helpless condition, loathed and shunned even by the swine that wallowed in the gutter. Debased, dis pirited, and unkindly treated by the world, one cold winter morning found his mortal remains a stiffened corpse, with a rum-bot