CASUAL COUNSEL.

When the witch looks out from a wanton's eye,

Or up from the ruby bowl,

Then, if thou would'st not to Virtue die,

Stand firm in thy strength of soul !

"Ghosts!' Ah, my child! dread spectres they
That tell of our wasted powers;
The short-lived elves of Folly's day;
The ghosts of our murdered hours;
Of friendship broken, love estranged,
Of all that our hearts condemn;
Of good repelled to evil changed;
Beware, my boy! of them!"

179

THE MAIDEN AT CHURCH.

SUGGESTED ON SEEING A MAIDEN LADY AT CHURCH, WHOM THE AUTHOR HAS SEEN THERE EVER SINCE HE CAN REMEMBER.

So do the aged say;

a blooming Miss,

Though e'en in youth, I think she must
Have had an old-like way.

How prim, and starched, and kind she looks,
And so devout and staid!

I wonder some old bachelor

Do n't wed that good old maid!

She does not look so very old,
Though years and years are by
Since any younger she has seemed,
E'en to my boyhood's eye.

That old straw bonnet she has on,
Tied with that bow of blue,

Seems not to feel Time's cankering hand,

"T is "near as good as new."

The old silk gown -the square-toed shoes,
Those gloves-that buckle's gleam;
That silver buckle at her waist,

To me, like old friends seem.

THE HOMES OF NEW ENGLAND.

BY REV. A. A. LIVERMORE.

Was it a chance culture, an accidental education, that developed the minds and characters of the last century, and changed one unbroken wilderness into a highly civilized land, and reared the noblest institutions in the world? No. There was a cause. And we ought to learn it and ponder upon it. I say there is a cause for the virtue, and activity, and happiness of our people. And that cause, I hesitate not to say, lies here. The people of this community have, with few exceptions, been trained up in happy, virtuous, holy homes. We sat, in infancy and youth, in heavenly places, and rich influences brooded over our pliant spirits, as dew upon the tender plant.

True, here in New England, and especially here in Wilton, Nature has lavished her fairest scenes, and breathed from the Most High the breath of life into our souls. Yes, blessed be these hills and valleys for the choice, sweet influences they have shed upon the young communities springing up here. Blessed be these granite mountains, that stand like vast citadels of safety around the blue ring of the horizon, and, gilded by the glories of the setting sun, carry up the thoughts to sublimity and God. Blessed be the fair skies which bend over us here with all their sparkling hosts of light and glory. Blessed be the pure breezes which sing from the northwestern hills, and bear health and exhilaration on their wings. But thrice blessed be our homes ; our homes, where love and happiness wove a charm and a spell for our hearts, never, never to be unloosed. There "heaven

lay about us in our infancy." The blue sky was more dear to us, because it arched proudly over the cherished roof of home. The sun and wind and rain and snow were loved because they brought their treasures and laid them at the feet of our sanctuary. The forests and vales and roaring brooks have been sweet in association from this great central attraction.

And what made our homes in this great wilderness so happy and genial so fitted to tempt forth both heart and mind, and develope the elastic energies of a free people? I will name only two things, not because they are the only two, but because they are the most important - Woman and Religion.

Much has been said of the part woman played, or rather worked, in the grand drama of these settlements. But the theme is an inexhaustible one. What would have been the Pilgrim Fathers without the Pilgrim Mothers? Shaggy barbarians of the woods. But woman came to cheer and refine the rude settlers. She bravely dared the terrors of the wilderness, to plant the pleasant amenities of social life in the log cabin. She forded rivers and penetrated forests to come hither. She came to dwell under the shades of the vast and savage woods. Her employments were humble, but her aims lofty. "She looked well to the ways of her household, and ate not the bread of idleness." Through long days and sleepless nights, she watched over her tender children. And when distant labors, or still worse, the trumpet of war, summoned her husband away from her side, she steadily plied her lonely tasks, watching his return, or learned, dreadful news! that he would return no more for ever. We have often read of the horrors of the wars of that period, and got by heart the story of the labors, dangers and sufferings of our forefathers. It would be unjust to forget that

those who staid at home often endured far more than those who braved the flaming lines of battle far more in heartsickness, hope deferred, hope destroyed, and all the nameless, haunting terrors of the deep woods, where the wild

THE HOMES OF NEW ENGLAND.

183

beast and wilder Indian were their only neighbors for miles and miles. But why need I say more? The subject has already been anticipated. I will only say, let us never forget what heroic, much enduring woman has done for the happy homes of New England.

But there was yet another agent that helped to make us what we are as a people, that consecrated our homes as holy places, and nerved our fathers' and mothers' hearts to do and dare nobly. It was religion. They brought with them the word of God as the ark of their safety, the shechinah of the Divine presence and favor. Morning and evening they offered praise to heaven from their forest dwellings. The house of God gathered them, from near and far, weekly to pay their adorations to the Great Guardian of their exposed lives, and hallow their minds with the influences of the Sabbath and the sanctuary. Every thing around and within them tended to keep alive their sense of dependence on God, and their value of the gospel of Jesus. Endangered, tempted, weary, suffering, alone, they looked to the source of comfort and strength, and found rest and courage and patience unto the end. With them religion was first, religion last, and religion midst. Other lands may boast richer soils, other climates may be more bland, other mountains may yield more precious minerals, other skies may shine with softer hues, but where shall we look for homes as pure and religious, as free and happy, as in our dear New England? These have been the glory of the past century; they are the hope of the new one. Woman and religion have made them what they have been; they alone can make them what they ought to be. Guard well our homes from evil, and our nation is girded round about with a munition of rocks, and a wall of fire.