the unpaid bill! Her husband was nothing of a man or he would have paid it for her. How she reasoned and quivered and thought, if Charley should die, until she was nearly thrown into hy. sterics again.

At length came the time for action. Her conscience would not allow her to send for her old family physician, without an explanation. She wrote a note desiring the Doctor to take her furni. ture which was purchased at his expense, and attend her son,-promising faithfully for the future to liquidate all his claims. It is needless to add he did so, and Mrs. Hoxie is now one of his best customers.

This narrative is merely related, (being a true incident,) to show how reluctantly we admit the physician's claim, when the danger is over. often quibble over the amount charged-pro

We

"Such is the power of love and kindness over those even from whom reason has fled. Now, can you tell who is the greatest person ?”

"I think I can tell you," said William. "The person who does all the good he can is the greatest, no matter how humble he is; for Christ said the poor widow had put more into the treasury than all the rich, because she had given all she had." "You are right, and learn from this to be great by being good, the only true greatness, and the only lasting happiness."

der and admiration at the traits of infinite skill which are everywhere displayed.

It has been said, no bills are more reluctantly paid than those for a lost law-suit, and a dead friend! But I suppose this means when they have left no property!

66

There is a great deal of fancied sickness in this world. It frequently arises from indolence,-an indulged lassitude,—a want of energy, which if manfully resisted would cure itself, independent of powders or pills. If," said an eminent physican, (in confidence to a friend,)" if all my patients were really sick, I could cure them without so long attending them ; but many are slightly debilitated, nervously predisposed, inactive in mind, and use no bodily exertions to become well; consequently my presence rather increases than diminishes fancy diseases."

If the laws of health were but properly observed languor and debility would be less imposing in the catalogue of mortal ills.-Rise early, live temperately, exercise vigorously, bodily and mentally, retire early, sleep soundly and my word for it, you you will seldom have a " Doctor's bill "to pay.Yankee Blade.

From the Student.

WHO IS THE GREATEST. (HARLES WEST and William Jarvis had

just begun to study History, and they were much pleased with the stories of kings, whose riches and power were the wonder of the world, and whose armies conquered all opposing nations.

They were delighted with the account of the splendid cities, with their huge walls, their vast temples filled with gold and silver vessels, and their stately palaces.

"O, what great men there were in those days!" said Charles. "There were Cyrus, and Xerxes, and Alexander the great, and I can not tell how many more. We do not have such kings now, do we?"

"No, Charles," answered William. "Do you remember the funny story about the Persian king, Xerxes, who wrote a letter to Mount Athos, commanding it to remove out of the way of his army, and who ordered the sea to be beaten because it destroyed his boats?

"He was a mighty king, but I do not think that the mountain obeyed him, or that the sea became

soned her little brother, who had been appointed king; but it is not certain that she did. She was wicked enough, however, to do such a thing, if she had any reason for wishing him out of the way.

"Alexander was one of the greatest drunkards in the world; and having made a foolish bet that he would drink a large bowl of wine, he brought on a fever, from the effects of which he died. He was a tyrant of the most cruel kind.

"At one time he became enraged at one of his faithful old soldiers, for having told him that his father, Philip, had done greater things than he, and, seizing a spear, he killed him on the spot. And yet, this same old soldier had once saved the life of the cruel king in battle.

"But there is one woman who will be remem. bered with love and respect when kings and queens, with all their splendor, are forgotten. They may build monuments of marble, and brass, and iron; but they will decay, while hers will last forever, and its touching inscription time can never efface. "She has done what she could,' says the Saviour; and if you will read the twelfth chapter of Mark, I think you will agree with me, that this woman is more worthy of our remembrance than Cleopatra, with her silken sails and silver oars.

And no doubt you will remember one who said to the waves, Peace; be still;' and even the winds and the waves obeyed him."

"O yes, Miss Orne, I see what you mean," said Charles; and it was foolish for me to be so charmed with splendor that is mingled with so much wickedness. To be good is to be great; and we should have thought of that, William, when we were studying our history."

To the casual observer all things in nature may appear one complicated mass, indescribable and unknown; but investigation will prove the above assertion. In every flower, in every rippling stream, in every "rock-ribbed" hill, is this lesson, this beautiful lesson, indelibly written. From the tiny bud that lifts its meek brow to the soft caress of spring, up to the frowning Alps, hoary with the storms of countless ages, we may read-simplicity, simplicity.

Who would think, while looking at the everlasting mountains, that their ingredients could be the same as those of the pebbles we tread heedlessly beneath our feet; and yet, so mighty, so wonderful, so grand, are they, that we are lost in their overwhelming sublimity, and forget that it is by an accumulation of sand, and grain after grain, that they have attained their almost fearful size, and that their giant heads are upreared to heaven by the mighty internal action of the earth, the result of that simple law-the expansion of bodies by heat.

Do you ever think when we lift a cup of water to our lips, or listen to the pleasant murmur of the rill, or to the sullen roar of the unresting ocean, that to the combustion of two simple elements we are indebted for the cooling draught, the dancing streamlet, and the wayward sea? And when we admire the beauty of the little cascade, the grandeur of the mighty cataract, the sublimity of the majestic river, do we pause to consider how simple, yet how vast, the cunning workmanship of nature?

"At this time, there is a lady by the name of Miss Dix travelling through our country, visiting jails, prisons, and asylums for the insane; and it is said, that when she talks and prays with the poor lunatics they are perfectly calm and quiet, and seem almost rational.

that it contains the embryo of the towering oak, the pride of the surrounding forest. The blessed air! how it lifts the locks from the toil-worn brow of labor, and softly fans with its invisible wings the fevered cheek of sickness! A simple, but a wonderful thing; now whispering sweetly to the trembling leaflets, now hoarsely shrieking in its wrath, prostrating the forest monarchs, and toss. ing them like the foam of the billows.

From such reflections, O man! cans't thou not see the wisdom and power of Him who is the author of existence?

Go forth into the green fields, or seek that bles. sed retreat in the shady wood; go forth at the holy twilight hour, go talk to the majestic mountains,

or hold sweet converse with the flower at thy feet, still, wherever thy walks may be, thou wilt plainly see graven on every object-" Simplicity and Vastness mark the works of God."-ANGELINE.

RURAL LIFE.

THIS primeval enjoyment of man is the most

Thealthful of all occupations; healthful for the body and the soul. What other pursuits by which men obtain honest bread afford such vigorous training for the physical powers, such various and extensive ranges of mental exercise? •

And where may the moral nature of man be preserved unsullied from vice, and grow and expand more, than in the rural scenes beneath the purest air of heaven?

The farmer's life is not to scratch with the pen, or rap, rap, with the hammer, nor an everlasting unpacking and repacking of another's labor. He walks forth under the open sky, his broad acres spread out beneath his feet; the blue concave, sunlit or starlit, or shrouded in clouds, is still above him. Health claims him as her favorite child, and the glorious sun loves to kiss a cheek that is not ashamed to wear the ruddy imprint of such affection. Nature's own inimitable babbling brooks, birds, brecze, or rustling foliage, enter his ear on their glad mission to his heart. He listens to instructive voices continually speaking from the universe around him. His eyes gather truth from pages of wisdom every where open before him. Each day, each month, season after scason, year after year, these teachings are given to him, infinite in variety, and endless in extent.

When toward the close of a sultry day the summer's blessing comes pouring down, as says the beautiful poetry of the sacred volume, the trees of the field clap their hands, and the valleys covered with corn shout for joy, the farmer, retiring from his labors to the friendly shelter of his cottage roof, improves his leisure hours with measures of wis

dom.

So, too, while his fields are sleeping beneath frost and snow, what profession affords more available opportunities for self-culture? Where was the lyric poetry composed that makes Scotland prouder of her Burns than of all her ancient race of warlike kings? Was is not between the handles of the plow ?

GENTLE HINT.

I was amused the last morning watch that I kept. We were stowing away the hammocks in the quarter-deck nettings, when one of the boys came with his hammock on his shoulder, and as he passed, the first lieutenant perceived that he had a quid of tobacco in his cheek.

"What have you got there, my good lad-a gumboil? your cheek is much swelled."

No, sir," replied the boy," there's nothing at all the matter."

46

boy was made to open his mouth, while the chew of "WELL, my lad, that is small corn you are of tobacco was extracted with this rough instrument. hoeing." "Yes," said the boy, while he contiu"There now," said the lieutenant, I'm sure ed his labor," we planted small corn." "But it that you must feel better already, you never could looks rather yellow," "Yes, sir, we planted the have any appetite. Now, captain of the after-yellow kind," returned the boy. "But I do not guard, bring a piece of old canvass and some sand believe you will have half a crop." "No, sir, we here, and clean his teeth nicely." planted it on shares," halloed the youugster, as the traveller rode away.

The captain of the after-guard came forward, { and, putting the boy's head between his knees, scrubbed his teeth well with sand and canvas for

BREAKING THE NEWS.-Cuff had been out with the cart and oxen, and returning, his master asked him what was the trouble.

"Why, massa, de wheel is broke." "Is that all, Cuff?"

"No, massa, de tongue broke too." "What, did the oxen run away ?" "Yes, massa, and kill de nigh ox." "Is it possible, Cuff?"

"And de off ox, too, massa."

"So you black rascal, you have made a perfect smash up, and that is the reason why you came back; why didn't you tell me so ?"

"Why, massa,' ," said Cuff, scratching his wool, "I s'pose dat one wheel broke be 'ficient of itself individooly, widout proceeding into de entire argument ob de cart and oxun."

SIGNS OF CHARACTER.

SOME people seem to think that children have no character at all. On the contrary, an observ. ing eye sees in these young creatures the signs of what they are likely to be in future life.

When I see a boy always looking out for himself, and disliking to share good things with others, I think it a sign that he will grow up a very selfish person.

When I see a little boy willing to taste strong drink, I think it a sign that he wi!! be a drunkard. When I see a child obedient to his parents, I think it a sign of great future blessings.

BETTER AS GOOT.-" Mynheer Von Shmitz, if I may be allowed the question, how long have you been married?"

"Yaw, dat ish you shall say how long time ish it when I says to the minister dat I shall pelong to mine yrow, and tell me no question?'

"Yes, that is what I mean; which is the same as asking how long you have been married." "Vel, dis is a ting vot I seldom don't likes to tank apout, but ven I does, it seem to be so long

THE JULY NO. OF" GODEY."

This is indeed a gem, but not for the Ladies only, we gentleman think we can admire it almost as much as the fairer sex. True, the fashions, receipts, embroidery patterns are not

quite so interesting to us, as the engravings, Cottage-designs,

etc.-but the remainder of the contents we think we can fully

appreciate. The Lady's Book improves as it advances in age. gravings, besides numerous smaller ones-contents written entirely by American Ladies. Sarah J. Hale, Mrs. E. F. Ellet, Mrs. E. Oakes Smith, and Alice B. Neal, are authoresses too well known for any doubts respecting the merit of their contributions. This No. commences a new volume and is a very fitting time to subscribe. Terms $3,00 per annum. Address, L. A. Godey, 113 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia.

The July No. is exceedingly beautiful-six fine full page en

Original Poetry.

For the Rural Repository.

THE THRONG OF THE GAY !

BY ISAAC COBB.

AY! join if thou choosest the throng of the gay!
But canst thou thereby fling thy sorrows away ?
Will care and its burthen depart from thy breast,
While noise and confusion afford thee no rest?
Can a smile on the lip, or a gleam in the eye,
Avail in removing the cloud from the sky?

Far better, methinks, in some shady retreat,
Where the waters are clear, and the flowers are sweet;
Far better, alone with some trusting, fond heart,
For the mornings to dawn, and the days to depart,—
Than spending one's life in the midst of the crowd,
A companion, perchance, of the worldly and proud!

Far better to live in some beautiful dell,
Where the minstrels of Nature in harmony dwell,
Than forever to languish with pain aud distress,
No partner, no friend, to encourage or bless;—
Nay! better to roam o'er a desert of sand,
Than to join for a moment the boisterous band!
Hudson, June, 1851.

LET US LOVE ONE ANOTHER.

LET US love one another,

Not long may we stay;

In this bleak world of mourning
Some droop while 'tis day,

Others fade in their noon,
And few linger till eve;
Oh there breaks not a heart
But leaves some one to grieve;

And the fondest, the purest,
The truest that met,
Have still found the need
To forgive and forget!
Then, ab though the hopes
That we nourish'd decay, A
Let us love one another

As long as we stay.

There are hearts, like the ivy,
Though all be decay'd
That it seem'd to clasp fondly
In sunlight and shade;
No leaves droop in sadness,
Still gayly they spread,
Undimm'd midst the blighted,
The lonely, and dead :
But the missletoe clings

To the oak, not in part,

But with leaves closely round it-
The root in its heart,
Exists but to twine it.-

Imbibe the same dew,-
Or to fall with its loved oak,
And perish there too.

Thus, let's love one another
Midst sorrows the worst,
Unalter'd and fond,

As we loved at the first;

Thongh the false wing of pleasure

May change and forsake,

And the bright urn of wealth
Into particles break,

There are some sweet affections

That wealth cannot buy, Tha cling but still closer

When sorrow draws nigh And remain with us yet,

Though all else pass away; Thus, let's love one another As long as we stay.

WHY DO I LOVE HER SO?

A WEARY life is mine, at best

Few pleasures mine that others share-
And oft, by lonely thought opprest,

It seems that I might well despair;
But when my "Little Friend" I see,
A pleasant thing is life to me.
To know that she is at my side,
To hold her hand in mine,

To watch her eyes that fondly shine,
Her cherub face, that brightens up

With love's intelligence divine-
With this my soul is satisfied,
And drains a pure, refreshing cup

Of calm and quiet happiness:
In sweet content I then repose
From sorrow's pangs and passion's throes,
Without a wish, save not to stir

From one whose very look can bless!
Some wonder what I find in her

My heart so strangely to impress--
A clever child, they must confess,
But nothing more, for all they see,

Than other children of her age,
Who scarce one thought of mine engage.
Whence cometh, then, the witchery

That sways me in her sweet control?
They know her not-and none of earth,
Save I, may ever know her worth;

For we have spoken soul to soul,
And met in spirit face to face,
When all her mind's immortal grace,
Love, truth and goodness, seem revealed
In beauty from the world concealed.
'Twas in an hour of bitter pain,

When the long agony of years
Was crowded in a moment's space-
When friends seemed false, and love as vain—
And the wrung heart and burning brain
Could only find relief in tears-,

For I despaired of earthly good

She came-1 scarce knew whence or how-
A light and glory round her brow:

Sublimely beautiful she stood;

For all of earth had left her face,
And all of heaven I there might trace,
Her look sustained my heart, and cheered ;
Her words my wounded spirit healed;
The child, the mortal, disappeared,

And God's own angel stood revealed!
Then did we soul with soul combine-
So, I am hers, and she is mine-
Forever hers! forever mine!

Forth in the world I see her go,

A common child to common eyes-
To mine a star of Paradise,

Unearthly, beautiful, divine!

No wonder that I love her so

JAS. NACK.

STEADY PURSUIT OF HEAVEN.
BY THOMAS MOORE.
THE bird let loose in eastern skies,
When hastening fondly home,
Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies
Where idle warblers roam;

But high she shoots through air and light,
Above all low delay,

Where nothing earthly bounds her flight,
Nor shadow dims her way.

So grant me, Lord! from every stain
Of sinful passion free.
Aloft, through virtue's purer air,
To hold my course to thee!

No sin to cloud, no lure to stay,
My soul, as hotne she springs,
Thy sunshine on her joyful way,
Thy freedom on her wings.

From the Waverley Magazine. LINES TO MY DAISY. DAISY mine! thou art a flower, Fair as ever graced a bower; And though others I have seen, Blossoms pink and leaflets green,

None so beautiful appear,
None so lovely, none so dear.
Flourish thou while Sum.ner last,
And endure till Autumn's passed;
For thou wakest in the breast,
Thoughts that tend to peace and rest-
Peace from tumult and turmoil,
Rest from trouble, care, and toil.
Memories of friends and home,
Ere I left them all to roam,
Rise within my pensive heart,
From which may they ne'er depart,

Till the June of life be o'er,

And its pleasures come no more.

THE GRAVE.

How pleasant the thought that when life shall have passed,
The shadows of sorrow no more shall be cast,
Surrounding the soul with the deepest of gloom,
More terrible far than the shades of the tomb;
That care shall no longer o'erburden the breast,
Or hinder the weary from taking their rest;
And never the voice of contention be heard,
By envy and anger incessantly stirred.

New Volume, October, 1850.

RURAL REPOSITORY,

Vol. 27, Commencing Oct. 19, 1850,

EMBELLISHED WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS. Price $1-Clubs from 45 to 75 Cents.

THE RURAL REPOSITORY will be devoted to Polite Literature, containing Moral and Sentimental Tales, Original Communications, Biographies, Traveling Sketches. Amusing Miscellany, Humorous and Historical Anecdotes, Valuable Recipes, Poetry, &c. The first Number of the Twentyseventh Volume of the RURAL REPOSITORY will be issued on Saturday the 19th of October, 1850.

The Repository" circulates among the most intelligent families of our country and is hailed as a welcome visitor, by all that have favored us with their patronage. It has stood the test of more than a quarter of a century; amid the many changes that have taken place and the ups and downs of life, whilst hundreds of a similar character have perished, our humble Rural has continued on, from year to year, until it is the Oldest Literary Paper in the United States.

CONDITIONS.

THE RURAL REPOSITORY will be published every other Saturday in the Quarto form, containing twenty six numbers of eight pages each, with a title page and index to the volume, making in the whole 208 pages. It will also be embellished with numerous Engravings, and consequently it will be one of the neatest, cheapest, and best literary papers in the country.

TERMS.

No subscription received for less than one year. the back numbers furnished to new subscribers during the year until the edition is out, unless otherwise ordered.

WILLIAM B. STODDARD. Hudson, Columbia Co N. Y.

NOTICE TO AGENTS, &C.£

The present Post Office Law, will probably prevent our sending & Large Prospectus as heretofore, in consequence of the extra expense; but the matter contained in one, and af the necessary information concerning Clubs, etc. can be ascer tained from the above We respectfully solicit all our subscribers to endeavou: to get up a Club in heir vicinity for the next Volume.

EDITORS, who wish to exchange, are respectfully requested to give the above a few insertions, or at least a notice And receive Subscriptions.

M

ARY STUART, queen of Scots, was the third child of James V. and his wife, Mary of Guise. That lady had borne him previously, two sons, both of whom died in infancy. Mary was born on the seventh of December, 1542, in the palace of Linlithgow. She was only seven days old when she lost her father, who, at the time of her birth, lay sick at the palace of Falkland.

wards of two years, it was thought espedient, by those who had at the time the disposal of her future destiny, that she should be removed to France. She was accordingly, in the fifth year of her age, taken to Dunbartou, where she was delivered to the French admiral, whose vessels were waiting to receive her; and attended by Lords Erskine and Livingstone, her three natural brothers, and four young ladies as companions, she left Scotland.

The thirteen happiest years of Mary's life were spent in France. She was received at Brest by order of Henry II., with all the honors due to her rank, and royal destiny. She traveled by easy stages, to the palace at St. Germain en Laye; and to mark the respect that was paid to her, the prison gates of every town she came to, were thrown open, and the prisoners set free. Shortly after her arri. val, she was sent, along with the king's own daugh.

The young queen was crowned by Cardinal Beaton, at Stirling, on the ninth of September, 1543. Soon after her birth, the parliament nominated commissioners, to whom they intrusted the charge of the queen's person, leaving all her other interests to the care of her mother. The two first years of her life, Mary spent at Linlithgow, where it is said she had the small pox, but the disease must have been of a particularly gentle kind, having left behind no visible traces. During the greater part of the years 1545, 1546, and 1547, she re-ters, to one of the first convents in France, where sided at Stirling castle, in the keeping of Lords Erskine and Livingstone. She was afterwards removed to Inchmahome, a sequestered island in the lake of Monteith; where, after remaining up

fest themselves. She made rapid progress in acquiring that species of knowledge suited to her years, and her lively imagination went even the length of attaching a more than ordinary interest to the calm and secluded life of a nunnery. It was whispered, that she had already expressed a wish to separate herself forever from the world; and it is not impossible, that had this wish been allowed to foster itself silently in her bosom, Mary might ultimately have taken the veil, in which case, her life would have been a blank in history.But these views were not consistent with the more ambitious projects entertained by Henry, and his uncles of Lorraine. As soon as they were informed of the bent which her mind appeared to be taking, she was again removed from the convent to the palace. The tears which Mary shed, how. ever, on leaving the nunnery, proved the warmth of her young heart; and that her feelings were not of merely momentary duration, is evinced by the frequent visits she subsequently paid this asyluni of her childhood, and by the altar piece she embroidered with her own hands, for the chapel of the convent.

lu no country of Europe was education better understood at that time, than in Frauce. Francis I., who remodeled, on a magnificent scale, the university of Paris, only followed the example which had already been set him by Louis XII. The youth of all countries flocked to the French schools. A competent knowledge of Latin, Greek, Hebrew, mathematics, moral philosophy, and medicine, could be acquired in France for literally nothing. The cardinal of Lorraine, who was at the head of the Parisian University, quickly discovering Mary's abilities, directed her studies with the most watchful anxiety. Before she was ten years old, she had inade good progress in the French, Latin, and Italian languages. French was all her life as familiar to her as her native tongue; and she wrote it with a degree of elegance which no one could surpass. Her acquaintance with Latin was not of that superficial kind, but too common in the present day. The young queen's attention was likewise directed to rhetoric, to history, and to the delightful study of poetry, for which her genius was suited, and for which she retained a predilection all her life.