» elle Tl Bi iii. ee ai - aS oe sonere a ee ee ea aoe RP get = 6 tit yay ane ea ae eee te OL Lat ttt ei Then might we ho'd unsoiled the mental 52 ; ia THe Pn te Ohm ne saan Pe are EE PORT. ee Gave me music—soft, sweet music, Mor its cadence is to me As dew-drops to the drooping flower Or blossoms to the bee. It soothes my fevered, burning brain, It calms my troubled heart, And bids, in tones of melody, My anxious cares depart. (live me music—low, faint magic, And as its echoes rol), In \ones of thrilling tenderness, Across my raptured sou]— I'}) dream again as once | dreamed, Of bappiness and love. When hope, in wreaths of budding joys, My life's bright textures wove, Give me music—sad, low music, And, while its sweet tones swel| And fall upon the ear like words Of low, heart-rending farewell, My thonghts on Fancy’s wing shall To the dreamy pest. return, And muse among the relics there, “In Memory's sacred urn.” Give me musie—mournfu) musie, , And my soul in fervent prayer Shall rise tpon the dying note That vibrates on the air. I'll pray for those whom well I love, That their lies may pass away As calinly and as gentle as The tones of that swect lay. ‘Give me music —joyfal music — {.et me feast upon ihe sound, Tall my spirit bursts the chain By whic. it now is bound, ved soars on that trinmphant strain Up to ite native skies, ‘To jain with angels in te song, \W hose echo never dies. SING NOT OF THE PAST. Sing not in those glittering halls Songs of former years; ¢ bach remembered note recalls Life’s young hopes and fears. Win me not to dwell] on days I‘ar too bright to last ; ‘Touch thy late to careless lays— Sag not of the past. When the moon is shining bright Over lawn and sea, Come, and in the silvery. light, af those sonys to aw. SoMFingcalmness then each sound er , soul shall cast ; Bet when strangers smile Siag not of the past. around, ~< a ne ne een nen a — SONNET. BY CALDER CAMPBELL... . {f we could hiearthe growing of the grass As we can hear the filling of the rain: | if we could see the wind strike on the | pane, As wé can see. the cloud and shadow pass. glass, Prom scentic stain, ¢ And bid the dangerdus syren sing in. vAIN,. Who tempts with songs of unbetief— | Alas ! Y'he heart is credulons bat of evil !- Doubt Bars ont the good, bars out the angel- guest, Wiile in atereek andcranny fues ad- vance — " Let us believe in brightness, nor shutout The creed, thar eyes will see an afier- ‘ rest i ‘ Where tloavea leads strength to help the, human. glance. xv ts, its purity that; UNFADING FLOWERS. BY Fe 8. ABraeue Thirty years ago,a smal) barefooted boy, paused to adimve the flowers in a eli culuvated garden. ‘The child was ab orphan, and had already felt how hard was an orphan’s lot. The owner of the garden, who was trimming a boarder, noticed the Jad and spoke kindly to him. “ Do you Jove flowers?” said he. The boy replied, * Oh yes, We used to have such beautiful Howers ia our gar- dep.” The man laid down his knife, and ga- ihering a few flowers, took them to the fence, through the pannels of which the boy was looking, and banded them to him, saying as he did so, * Here’s a little buneh tor you.” A flush went over the child's face as he took the flowers. He did not make any reply, but in his Jarge eyes, as he lifted them to the face of the man, was an expression of thankfulness, to be read as plain as words in a book., ‘The act ou the part of the man wes one of spontaneous kindness, and scarcely thought of again; but by the child was acver forgotten. Leirs went by, and through toil, pri- vation and sutfermg both body and niuad, the boy grew up io manhood. From or- deals like this, come fori our most eflec- tive wen. {ff kept from vicious associates, the lad of feel.ng and mental activity be- comes ambitious, and rises in society adove the common level. So it proved in the case of this orphan boy, Hie had battew advantages of education, but such as were vilered were ail improved. It happened that his lot was cast in a print- ing office; and the young compositor soon became interested in tis work. Le did not set the types agy @ mere mechanic, but went beyond the duties of his calling, entering into the ideas to which be was giving verbal expressions and making them his own, Attwenty one he was a young manofmore than ordinary intell- yvence and furce of character. At thirty tive he was the conductor of a widely circulated ard profitable newspaper, and us aman, respected and esteemed by ali who knew him. During the earnest strnggle that all men emter into, who are ambitious to rise in the world, the thoughts do not often go back and rest meditatively, upon the earl.er tine of life. But afier success has crowned each wel! directed effort, and the gaming of a desired posiiioa no longer remains a suodject of dour, the mind o'ten brings up trom the far oif pas viril recollections of incidents and iin- }ressions that were painful or pleasure- able at the time, ang which are iow seen to hive an influence, more or less decided, upon our whole after iife. fathis state of reflection sat one day the main whom we have introduced. After musing 4 Jong tine deeply abstracted, he took his pen and wrote hastily—and these were the sentences+ he traced upon ie paper that Jay before him:—* How indelibly does alittle act of kindness, performed at the right moment, inpress itse!f upon the ind. We meet, as we pass through the world, so moc of rade selfisiiness, thet /we guard ourselves avainstit, and scarce. ‘ly feel its effects. But spontancous kindugss comes sq rarely, that we are surprised when if appears,.and delighted and refrested as by the perfume of fow- ers in the dreary winter. When we were a small boy, am orphan, and wih ‘tie memory of a hocae for ever lost, too vivid in our young jieart, a man into wose beautiful garden we stood looking, pulled a few ftowers, and. handed them as he did so. {le did not know, and per- haps never wili kuow. how deeply we were touched by this act. From a_ little prrents—fell ns, we also hved among them. pea An ancient wriier venarke: “If gil,ptveen us avd and all thuse teader assi- tye world were paper, and the sea ink, sad ali the trees and plants were pens, and ev ‘ry ‘yan.in the world were awriter, vet tity were not abe, with all their ta- cixtions and affections that to the hearts ‘bour and @utnins, to et dowaa'l tie croft. dogeuts of woman.” - 2 * ae Petey r*; ee Pach <a RP RRR SIO IE a ete to sg se ‘EXABIBER. Abe. one. dE ce noe ee ae elite es t, « ee ee, | c unes furth. tirough the fence, speaking a kind word boy we loved flowers, and eré that heavi- | est aff ction a child ever knows—!oss of | how delightful it is to see ereen things But death separated be-. ; 4 of children are like dew to the ‘tender beilisoold fellows and green moist mea- grass, we entered the dwelling of the! dows; tie star of Bethlehens gieams in st-anger, aad. were treated hepcefyrth as, wouis and shady placessthe celandise if we had, or. -cught to: have, no. feeling, . glow in all their golden lustre; the daisy ‘no hops, na. weakaesses,. The harsh. onc> more greeta’. ue, and the, CTOCN3, | EITC Me OT command came daily to our ears; and not even for work well done, or faithful service, were! we cheered by words of commendation. “One day—we were not more than eleven years old—sowething turned our thoughts back upon the earner and hap- pier time when we had a true home, and were luved aud cared for. We were once more in the garden and among the sweet blosoms as of old,and the mother on whose bosom we had slept, sat under the grape arbor, and we filled her lap with flowers. There was a smile of love on her face, and her lips were parted with some kind word of affection, when to scatter into nothing these dear images of the lonely boy, came the sharp command of a mas- ter,and in obedience we started forth to perform some needed sewice, Our way was by the garden of which we hare spoken; and it was on this occasion, and while the suddenly dissipated image of our mother among the flowers was re- forming lself in our young imagination, that the incident to which we have allu- ded occurred. We can never forget the grateful perfume of those flowers, nor the strength and comfort which the kind words und manner of the giver imparted to our fainting spirit, We took them home, kept them fresh as long us water would preserve their lifeand beauty; and when they faded, aud the Jeaves fell, pale and withered, upon te ground, we griev- ed fur their loss as if a teal friend had been taken away. é : “It isa lung, long time since the inci- dent cccurred; but the flowers which here sprang up in our bosom ere fresh and beautiful still. They have neither faded nor withered—ibey cannot, they ure (afauding Flowers. We never look- ed upon the man that gave them to us that our heart did not warm toward him. ‘Twenty years ago we lost sight of hin; but, if still among the dwellers. of the earth, and in need of a friend, we should divide with hiss our last morsel.” SPRING. Spring is come! She may, perhaps, at first be mistaken for Winter! She may not at once have taken off her travelling garb and rough wrappings, but here she is. As she begins to throw off one dark aud shacgy babiliment afier another, we see not our old fashioned. friend, Winter, with his bardy, wrinkled face, and keen eye, full of cutting jokes, and those Lorny hands thatin bis mere play- fulnéss, nipped us merciless by the ear and often by the nose; but we desery the graceful form of the geaotle and gra- cious Spring. We. feel the thrill of her presence, kuowing xl) the beauty and the love that she brings with her. Spring is come! Itis Mareh; rough, yel pleasant, vigorous and piping Mareb. tis the month,of life, of strength, and hope. Ve shail soon hear his voice aad “ihe soundwl lis golng I the tops ot the trees.” [his gaies shalh come rushing over forest and Jea and shake the old trees aDdout our bouses..with a merry sirepgta, Oh! how different. to. the sviemu fulness of antuun, or the wi'd wraih of winter, and we shall lie im our beds st midnight—and shall we not pray fur safety tothe thousands of out fellow men at sea: Peoplare all their eurdens." } eager to be at work in Phe eat tras*np tresh and mellow, and there jsa beanty in its very Diaekness that charms the eye. Fiowers are fast springing in the boarders, geneady ofa delicate and poeue beanty, asthe Alpine violet, the dog-tooth violet, defivdils, hyacinths, squils, and saxif. rages. The snowdrop still hifis. its gracetul head, and the talley snowflake Almond-trees blassown a brijiiant 6pectabie while the trees are yet leafless. ‘The tacahamac Shows its long catkins ; the mezeron exhibits its clineter- ed blossoms, and the first red China rose unfolds iselfto the fresh air, in the woods and on the warm banks vigorously bursting through the moald, aud sweet flowers. noddiag to ng as old friends, Coltsfoot and cardamine em- FEM Le TA EA BBL RP LS nn Tra A A nape i te spreads like apurple flood cver those meadows which it hes beautified fur aver. But, above 8}), the favourites of the field, the violet white or purple, now diffuses its sweetness tinder our hedges and slong the banks which we have known from our chiidhood, And how muny scenes of that happy childhood does the first sight of them recall), how the mind fites back 16 the spots which we may perhaps never again Visit, and where they who made so much of the delight of those years have long ceased to exist. Still to the very lust, in spite of sorrow and care, and desolating memories, spring and the first violets bring poetry with them all the world over. We have already observed with what eagerness as if chil- dren, the Germans set forth, in groups or alone, to hunt for the first March violets... Vhroughout woods and vineyards, over- hanging far stretching scenes they go; knowing of old where the purple strangers first appear. But ihe boys lave been so eurely before them, and meet them with little odorous boguets at all turns and courses, Weil! a thousand welcomes to Spring: though she cannot bring back, with ait the tlowers, the flower of youth ; though she cannot with ali her poetry, bring back the poetry of early love ; thongh she cannot repaint the rose on cheeks that are” pillowed beneath the yew, nor enable us to offer the first guthered violets to the dear souls who are in heaven. Yet she brings joy to the earth still. ‘The bees are once more out; the hare runs forgetting lier fears, acrogs the ver- dant fields; the harmless snake comes forth and basks on the primrose bank.. All nature is full of motions. The fowh of the farm yird lay; the pheasants crow in the copse; the ringdove coos; the linnet and the goldfinch sing; and man is busy at fence aud drain, is ploughing and sowing, and pruning and planting, while he talks of the guod years pone, and hopes (or more. Spring stirs everything with her influence—the depths of the sor’, and the depths of the heart: and makes us more than all other seasons, in lore with hfeand full of longings afer those who are dear lo us in time and eternity. It is then that we’are most sad, vet happy; most fearful and prayerful: most baunted by memory, and discursive in hope. We live more lovingly in ihe past, the present, and the future. ‘There js a spring in the spirit asin Nature: and tie eon! puts - furth all its buds of anticipation, is most delicate blossoms of affection: and every leaf of a higher and tendered conscious - ness in our nature unfolds itself, and we find that God and heaven are bot far off! — Howitt. A GOOD STORY, An old Jawyer of the ety of NewYork telis 9 vood joke about one of les ehents. A feliow had been arraigned before the police for stealing a setof silver spoone. The articles were found upon th® culprit, and there was no use ip attempting te deny the chor-e. G. was apphed to by the prisoner as Counsel, ani! secing 10 esenpe for his client, except on the plea « f inzan- ity or idiotey, he instructed the fe low te put on as silly a look »s possible. aud when any question was put to him, to ure in a drawing. manner, the word ‘spoors’? Tf successful, the fee was to be twenty doi lars. The Court proceeded to trial, the Charge was read, and the question was putto the prisoner: ‘Guilty or not eri ty?” * Spoons,’ ejaculated the ealprit. - The Court put several questions to hin but * spoons, spoons,’ was al] the “answer that it could elteit. ‘The fellow ta a fool? said the jndge: ‘Jet hin go abont his bosiness.’ The prisoner left the rocm,and the law- ver followed close in his wake, and when they had got inte the hall, the counselor tapped his client on the shoulder, saying * * Now wy good felluw, that twenty doi- lars.” : The rogne looked the Inwver full in the fuce,ind putting on a grotesque aud sill¥ exoression, and winking wit his eyes, éx- claimed. Spoons, aad thew sande acke. —N. OY. Picryune. MANAND WIFE QUARRELS, ; It is often said that the most. ser iors dissensions between married peoples whe. if t fi ee sicsitullthtes ena SP a Ee Syren as