possess, a dictionary and a copy of Shakspeare, any man by giving one hour every evening to the task may soon read like a clerk, and perhaps understand what he the last step. There is something higher than knowledge-there is religion, which is only another name for true wisdom. A man who neglects the duties which he owes to himself, will not be very likely to remember those he owes to God. He who is indolent in what relates to this world, cannot be expected to cast an eye upon the concerns of a momentous future. On this subject we shall only request the reader to think seriously and practically for himself; for ourselves we are con vinced that true piety and a regular discharge of the duties of religion, are very closely connected with every other kind of excellence. ment. On the contrary, everything wears an aspect of cleanliness, quietude, and comfort. Peep in again at the hour of evening, when those welcome shades have again dismissed the workman to his fire-reads better. But even this will not be side. There you are sure to find him; first with his children playing their last game around his chair before yielding to the standing orders of the house respecting bed; and, when their prattlings are hushed in slumber, in confidential chat with the partner of his joys and sorrows, or perhaps half-buried in a book from which he reads now and then the more interesting paragraphs for her amusement. She has toiled hard all day, not only with her hands, but with her head, to secure this hour or two of leisure in the evening-and she works daily, harder than he is aware; for how dull is masculine understanding in all that pertains to the management of a house?-but then, as we have heard her say, with a husband so industrious, so cheerful, so ever-indulgent, so willing to forego any comfort for her happiness, a wife must be something more or less than a woman if she does not strain all her energies to make him happy too. But the second step will not be the last. All who try will find that it is easier to go on than to begin. The more they do in the way of domestic improvement, the more easily will the work be done. It is the habit of reflection, and perhaps of dipping now and then into some useful book, which first makes them dissatisfied with their low condition, and the first result of any improvement in this respect will be the strengthening of that habit. Books will become a necessary article of existence, just to the mind what food is to the body. Perhaps they cannot read, or but imperfectly; but they have a mind, and a mind, perhaps, which in point of native power is equal to that of the first statesman or philosopher of the age. Not read! why reading is just the understanding of the signs of thought, and a person who can think himself, and wishes to know the thoughts of others, will surely master them. With five sound senses, such a judgment and memory as every good workman must When from any cause we are in cir cumstances of discomfort, our first im pulse is to throw the blame on others, or to soothe ourselves by thinking of ima ginary remedies. After all, how much has Providence put in our own power; how little dependent are we for the essentials of happiness upon any one except that influential but often-forgotten Being, whose lodging-place is our own head and heart. How much, too, is it in the power of any person to effect if he will only seriously set to work. If the reader should find in these remarks anything suited to himself, will he permit us to urge him with all our might to go and put the lesson in practice. We ask him to do it for his own sake. It is a serious thing for any man to live less rationally or less happily than he might do, and that for years. We ask him do 'so for the sake of his wife and children. They are his second self, for whose welfare he has entered himself as bail in the sight of earth and heaven. We ask him to do so for the sake of society both present and future, for he is one of its creatorshe does something towards making the moral world either better or worse, happier or more miserable. And, finally, we ask whether such powerful motives were ever yet presented to the mind of any man, and rejected without folly. MADAME DE STAEL'S MARRIAGE. Ar the age of eleven she was a forward child. Her father's guests, who were some of the most distinguished men of the day, such as Marmontel and the Baron de Grimm, historians of another generation, took great notice of her. On one occasion the Abbé Raynal held her little hands for a long time and talked to her as if she had been a woman; and, little doubt, she answered him in the same strain. She amused herself, even at this age, with writing comedies and tragedies, and, like every great writer, began her vocation very early in life. But the girl grew into a woman. In England, she might have come out early as an authoress, have captivated a man worthy of her mind, and been happy or unhappy, according to the measure of her dreams. In France she was spared the necessity of choosing. Probably, as Necker's only daughter, she might have had an embarras de choix. Anyhow, she was not allowed to interfere in the matter. Now Paris or France contained scores of men of good means, and good possition-nay, if the Neckers had cared for it, of rank-who would have been happy to offer their hands to the minister's daughter. Will any one doubt it, when he is told that her dot was the enormous sum of eighty thousand pounds, and reminded that the tenth part of that is considered a good marriage portion for a French girl even in the present day? But it was not equally easy to find a young French Protestant combining these advantages-for such the Neckers, with all their Calvinism, considered them; and indeed it may be observed that worldliness and other-worldliness often unite in the same individual. One would have hoped from Necker, with his love of English institutions, and from Madame Necker, with her high Spartan principles, that they, at least, would have regarded marriage in some nobler light than as a mere contract of mutual commercial benefit; and if any one plead that this view of the sacred tie was so completely that the whole French nation, that to take any other would have been con sidered as ultra-romantic, it must be remembered that whatever the general ideas on the subject, the changes which preceded the Revolution introduced a greater freedom even in the matter of marriage, and that about this time it was much more customary than it had ever been to allow girls when of a reasonable age to make a choice among their suitors. These thronged around Madlle. Necker with her eighty thousand pounds in cash and large expectancies; but as we have said, the religion was an obstacle with most. Among the Protestant members of the corps diplomatique was a young Swede, named Eric Magnus, Baron de Staël-Holstein. He was secretary to the Swedish embassy; he was a great favourite with Gustavus III. of Sweden, who encouraged his suit, and promised to make him his ambassador on the first vacancy, if he succeeded in winning the hand of the daughter of a powerful minister like Necker; further, he was young and handsome; and further, he had no quality, but an easy--too easy-temper to recommend him. When we remember the romantic, one may say sentimental, character of the author of "Corinne " and "Delphine;" when we find in her works an almost English tone of feeling in regard to domestic matters, we may well wonder that she should have consented so easily to the proposition of her father to marry a young man for whom she felt no kind of affection. But though some people have called Madame de Staël more than half English, looking at her works, we have only to examine her life to be persuaded that she was perfectly French. She took a French view of the sacred bond of matrimony. Filial love has always held a higher place in France than conjugal affection. Madlle. Necker was wrapped up in her father, whom she regarded as the greatest man of his day, and she accepted the husband he proposed as a matter of course. There was only one condition to be made-he was never to ask her to leave France. To this the young baron readily consented, and the marriage took place in 1786. For the L stitches round the Large Oval.Make 1 long in about the 3rd loop from the join; 5 ch 1 L in every alternate loop, with 5 ch between each L till there are 22 L, then 5 ch 1 L in 3rd Loop of next oval; 5 ch 1 L in each alternate loop till there are 6 L; 5 ch; Repeat, but make only 5 L in next; 5 ch and 4 L in next 2 ovals; 5 ch and 3 L on next 3 ovals; 5 ch and 9 L round the top oval; then make both sides alike. This trimming is very pretty for gathering the front of a sleeve into. KNITTED COUNTERPANE IN Materials.-Messrs. Walter Evans & Co's No. 6, Explanation of Terms.-T f, thread or cotton in front." K, knit plain. P pearl. 1st Row.--Cast on one stitch on needle. 2nd Row.-Cotton in front, knit the 1 stitch (2 loops on needle). 3rd Row.-Cotton in front, knit 2 (3 loops on needle). 4th Row-Cotton in front, K 1, T f; K 1, T f; K 1. 5th Row.-T f, K 1; 6th Row.-T f, K 2; 7th Row.-T f, K 2; 8th Row.-T f, K 3; 9th Row.-T f, K 3; 10th Row.-T f, K4; 11th Row.-T f, K 5; stitches). Pearl 3; K 2. 12th Row.-T f, K remainder plain (20 stitches). 13th Row.-T f, K. 5; Pearl 9; K 6. (21 stitches). 14th Row.-T f, K remainder plain (22 stitches). 15th Row.-T f, K 6; Pearl 9; K7 (23 stitches). 16th Row.-T f, K remainder plain (24 TRIMMING FOR THE SIDES OF CHILDREN'S TROU- stitches). SERS, OR FOR THE FRONTS OF CHILDREN'S Largest Oval, No. 10 Cotton.-Make 29 ch; work two long stitches in each loop. For the next Two Ovals.-Make 25 ch and work L in each loop. For the next Two.-Make 21 ch. For the next Two.-13 ch; there will now be nine ovals; these are to be sewed together as in engraving, but each one overlapping the other. With 24 Cotton make bars of button-hole stitch across. 17th Row.-T f, K7; Pearl 9; K8 (25 stitches). 18th Row.-T f, K remainder plain (26 stitches). 19th Row.-T f, K 8; Pearl 9; K 9. 20th Row.-Tf, K9; K 2 together; K 5; K 2 together; K 9. 21st Row.-T f, K 9; Pearl 7; K 10. 22nd Row.-T f, K 10; K 2 together; K 3; K 2 together; K 10. 23rd Row.-T f, K 10; Pearl 5; K 11. 24th Row.-T f, K 11; K 2 together; K 1; K 2 together; K 11. 25th Row.-T f, K 11; Pearl 3; K 12. KNITTED COUNTERPANE IN SQUARES. 26th Row.-Tf, K 12; K 2 together; K 12. | 27th Row.-T f; Knit remainder plain (28 stitches). 28th Row.-T f. The same (29 stitches). 29th Row.-Pearl row (29 stitches). 30th Row.-K 2 together; remainder plain. 31st Row.-The same. 32nd Row.-Pearl 2 together; pearl remainder. 33rd Row.-K 2 together; K remainder. 34th Row. The same. 35th Row.-Pearl 2 together; pearl remainder. 36th Row.-K2 together; knit remainder. 37th Row.-The same. 38th Row.-Pearl 2 together; Pearl remainder. 39th Row.-K 2 together; K remainder. 40th Row.-The same. 41st Row.-P 2 together; P remainder. BY MRS. WARREN. 42nd Row.-K 2 together; K remainder. 43rd Row.-The same. 44th Row.-P 2 together; P remainder. 45th Row.-K 2 together; K remainder. 46th Row.-The same. 47th Row.-P 2 together; P remainder. 48th Row.-K 2 together; K remainder. 49th Row.-The same. 50th Row.-P 2 together; P remainder. 51st Row.-K 2 together; K remainder. 52nd Row.-The same. 53rd Row.-P 2 together; P remainder. 54th Row.-K 2 together; K remainder. 55th Row.-The same, Three stitches now on needle which knit together in one. Knit 3 more of these small squares, and with some cotton sew the four together in each loop formed by bringing the cotton forward in each row; this will now make one square composed of four divisions. G ORIGINAL POETRY. FAREWELL. Tis sad to say farewell to youth, 'Tis sad to say farewell to friends But oh! 'tis sadder far to say, Farewell for evermore To those who're leaving us for aye For Heav'n's far distant shore. "Tis sad to say a last farewell To miss the now deserted chair 'Tis sad to look for the last time Tis sad to press a farewell kiss With Death's seal on them now. Ah me there is a world of care E. B. THE SONG OF MY CHILDHOOD'S DAYS. THERE is a song I heard in youth Whose every accent breathed of truth, And now it comes with magic power To soothe in many a lonely hour; 'Tis dearer than love's fondest lays That song I heard in childhood's days. In infancy it bade me sleep, And checked my tears when wont to weep, In gayest hours of joy and mirth, When flowers sprang round my path on earth, I heard it only 'mid the rest, And hearing was supremely blest; "Tis dearer than love's fondest lays That song I heard in childhood's days. But oh! I feel it dearer yet For cloudless skies and summer flowers; THE FALLING LEAF. I WANDERED in a shady grove Poured sweetly forth their songs of love, And pensively I lingered there, Whose murmuring did seem the air All Nature looking, everywhere, One single thing amiss: For all the earth, it seemed to me, I thought, "How thankful we should be Just there, I saw a wither'd leaf Fall from a stately tree; Strange! it should cause me so much grief This trifling thing to see; It made me think, that falling leaf, "Earth's pleasures soon will flee!" "Yes! all," I murmured, with a sigh, "That unto us is dear,All that is pleasing to the eye, All that our homes can cheer, Too soon they'll disappear." But be ye ready, every one, For the great Judgment Day!" W. H. H. EVENING THOUGHTS. WHEN the rosy clouds of evening O'er my heart it seems to linger, CONDOR. |