The Hillsdale standard. [volume] (Hillsdale, Mich.) 1851-1909, 1855-11-27
SPICE ISLANDS.
rAssrp IN THE SEA OF READING.

The maplc-tress shook their golden boughs,
as if they had been boarding up sunshine for
months, and poured it in one rich deluge over
their billowy and restless leaves.
A man must possess fire in himself before
he can kindlo up the electricity that thrills
the great popular heart.
Home is emphatically the poor mans para
Disc The rich, with their many resources,
too often live away from the hearth-stone, in
heart, if not in person; but to the virtuous
poor, domestic ties are the only legitimate
and positive source of happiness short of that
holier heaven which is the souls home.
There are moments in human life when per
sons, linked together in a series of events,
may form tableaur which stand out from or
dinary grouping, like an illustration stamped
in strong light and shadow on the book Of
destiny. h4 5fe
The all seeing One, who judges tlietl' ,ught
as well as the act, will make DO distinction
between life drained drop by drop from the
soul, and that sent forth at blow with the
red hand,
Neither men nor women become what they
were intended to be by carpeting their pro-
gressiwith velvet; real strength is tested by
difficulties.
One night when it had been raining, in
the wintor--while the great trees were drip
ping wet--out came the moon and stars
bright, with sharp frost, and then all the
branches were hung witt, ice in the moon
shine, glittering and bending low towards the
ground, just as if the starlight had all settled
on the limbs, and was loading them down
with brightness, A.e,
"A light wind had followed the frost, and
all the mossy turf was carpcted with leaves
crimson, grcen, russell, and gold. Some
times a commingling OF all these colors might
be found on one leaf; sometimes, as they
looked upward, the great branches of an oak
stopped over their heads, ,haavy with leaves
of the deepest green, fringed and matted with
blood-rcd, as if tho heart of the tree were
broken and bleeding to death, through all
the veins Of its foliage
Could you have seen them slumbering be-
meath the humble root, smiling TRANQUILITY on
their pillows, you might have fancied that
those little rooms were swarming with invisi-
bic angcls-spirits from paradise that had
come down to make n little heaven of the
poor mans home. Indeed, am not quite
sure that the idea would have been all fancy
for Charity, that brightest spirit of heaven
WAS there, and what glorious troop she al-
ways brings in her tran Talk of flnging
your bread upon the waters, waiting for it to
be east up after many days-why, the very
joy of casting the bread you have earned with
your own strength upon the bright waves of
humanity, Is reward enough for the true
hcart
The barn was vast rustic bower that
fd htrsnmgg enc it6i "% neatly swept,
overhead, the raftcrs were concealed by hea-
Wy garlands Of white pine, golden maple
leaves and red oak branches, that swept from
the roof downwards like tent. Buttcrnut
leaves wrcstned their clustering gold among
the dark green hemlock, while sumach cones
with fiame-colorcd leaves, shot through the
gorgeous forest branches. The rustic chand-
cier was in full blaze while, now and then,
candle cleaned out through the garlands,
starring them TO the roof. Still the llumi-
nation was neither broad nor bold, but shed
delicious starlight through the barn, that
left much to the Imagination, and concealed
a thousand little signs of love-making, that
would have been venturcd on more silly had
the light been broader.
Occupation what glorious thing it is for
tho human heart. Those who work hard
seldom yield themselves entirely up to fan
ced or real sorrow. When grief sits down,
folds its hands, and mournfully feeds upon
its own team, weaving the dim shadows,
that little exertion might sweep away, into
funeral pail, the strong spirit is shorn of its
might, and sorrow becomes our MASTER
When troubles flow upon you, dark and hca-
Wy, toll not with the waves-wrestle not with
the torrent rather seek, by occupation, to
divert the dark waters to overwhelm you, in
to thousand channels which the duties of life
always present.. Before you dream Of it,
those waters will fcrtiize the present, and
give birth to fresh flowers that may brighten
the futurc-fowers that will become pure and
holy, in the sunshine which pcnetrates to the
path of duty, in spite of every obstacle
Grief, after all, is but selfish feeling; and
most selfish is the man who yields himself to
the indulgence of any passion which brings
no Joy to his fcllow-man.