The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1873-11-06
HAPPY THOUGHTS.

Ill buhJ WHICH ID sdll III any COufols"-
tion. II broods over every society, and
men unconsciously seek for it in each
other. Emerson
TAKE ton cents and 60 to II leather
dealer and get pound or two OF shoe
pegs, and boil them we'll in molasses,
and let them stand until cold, and they
are just as good as barberries in fact,
no one can tell the difference.
A MAN is known to his dog by the
smell to his tailor by the coat to his
friend by the smile; each of these
know him, but how little or how much,
depends on the dignity of the intelli-
gence. That which is truly and indeed
characteristic of the man is known only
to God -RuSkin.
Because you flourish IN worldly AFFAIRS,
Don't be hauty and put on airs,
with ngolent pride of station
Don't hC proud and turn up your nose,
At poorer people, in palmer clothes,
But learn for the sake of your minds reposc
That woah's bubble that comes and goes?
And that all proud flesh, wherever it grows
IL subject to irritation. Sgr,.
To BE sick is to enjoy monarchical pre-
rogativos. Compare tho silent tread and
quiet ministry, almost by the eyes only,
with which he ls served, with the care
less demeanor, the Unceromonious Go- 90
ings in and out (slapping Of doors, or
leaving them OPEN Of the very same
attendants, when he is getting a little
| better, and you will confess that from
| the bed of sickness (throne let me rather
call i0 to the elbow chair Of GONZALES
cence, is fall from dignity amounting
to deposition. Charles Lamb.
\ TINE divides itself into these three
continents, yesterday, to-day, and to-
morrow, each grand, ..and each peculiar.
and each measureless. The divinity
that presidos over tomorrow is called
| Hope; the present has no guardian by
name, and the divinity of yesterday is
called Memory. There is no eloquence,
no poetry, no process of reasoning that
can do justice to the beauty and infu.
once of any one of these periods. Look
ing backward and forward the heart
becomes overwhelmed with The weight
and mystery of the theme. me.-DaVid r.
ring.
Roars there ever beast IN his forest den,
Hear thunder In heaven, horn among men,
On the hillRepaa maiden now and then,
Sound what may,
Answer through space thou makest again
With small delay.
Aware of the thunder's rattling roll
OF the winds aud the waves, when without control
OF the cries where the village shepherds stroll,
Reply thou giyos;
Yet thou thysclf without one answering soul.
poet liyest. From N. Russian.
A POWERFULLY imaginative mind, says
Ruskin, seizes and combines at the
same time, not only two, but all impor
tant ideas of it's poem or picture, and,
while it works with one of them, it is
at the same instant working with, and
modifying all in their relations to it,
never losing sight of their bearings on
each ssother. This faculty is indeed
something that looks as if man wers
made after tho image Of God. Is it in
conceivable, admirable, altogether di-
vine and yet, wonderful as it may
seem, it it palpably evident that no less
an operation is necessary for the pro
duction of any great work.
THERE is sort of homely truth
and naturalness in some books which is
very rare to find, and yet looks cheap
enough. Homeliness is almost as great
a merit in book as in a house, II the
roodsr vould abide there. 1t is next to
Tea''er "'"i' very atsyr.n1Un w 81
beauty, and Il ,.-high art. Some
have this merit only. Very few men
can speak of nature, for instance, with
any truth They overstep her modesty,
somehow or other, and confer no favor,
They do not speak good word for her.
The suriness with which the wood
chopper speaks of his woods, handling
them as indifferently as his AK, is better
than the mealy-mouthed enthusiasm of
the lover of nature Woreau.
"Thshlls
Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun, the Oas
Stretching in pensiye quetness between;
The venerable woods, rivers that move
In majesty, and the complaining brooks
That make the meadows green; and, poured
round all.
Old oceau's gray and melancholy waste,
Are but the solemn decorations all
OF the great tomb Of man. The golden sun,
The planets all the intimate host Of heaven
Are shining on the sad abodes of death
Through the still lapse Of ages. All that tread
The globe are but handful to the tribes
That sumber in It's bosom. Take the wings
OF morning, and the Barcan desert pierce
Or lose thyself in the continuous woods
Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound
Save his own dashing, yet, the dead are there.
Bryant
CHEERFULNEss AND MIBrH.-l have
always preferred cheerfulness to mirth'
The latter consider as an act, the for'
mer as habit of the mind. Mirth IS
short and transcient, cheerfnlness fixed
and permanent. Those are often raised
into the greatest depression of mslan.
cholly ON the contrary, cheerfulness'
though it does not give the mind an s1'
ouisite gIadness, prevents us from fall
inc into any depths of sorrow. Mirth
is like q flash of lightning that breaks
gloom Of cloudA and glitters
for moment; chess<afness Keeps ups
lind of dayliehsfn the mi.l- and 6lls
! with steady andpsrpesnal sereaisy'~
addison.