Year: 1876

L FOR the democratic Press.


AT REST.


/ Two little words. and yet how full OF


meaning. They, came into my mind


and sank deep into my heart this eve


ming with a deeper significance than


they have ever before borne to me. AS


sit gazing out over almost bonndless


stretches Of prairie which seem to be


sleeping peacefully this twilight hour,


and then as raise my eyes to the


vaulted sky above, silent and pure, I


cannot forbear exclaiming, ailnature


is at rest, and heaven is smiling over
its perfect submission and subdued re-


pose. " All day the winds have sighed


along the lea, = and moaned and shriek-


ed about the walls of this pleasant


home like mad spirit which has been


condemned to eternal punishment.
"All day the useful trouble of. the
rainp has fallen INCREASINGLY over hin


and plain, but at eventidel there has


come light" y the wind is lulled to sleep


like tired child, and the rain falls no


longer. cannot even hear the patter,


patter, or tinkle, tinkle, now and then


upon the roof. The light is shining


with softened radiance over all the


western sky, Frightening the whole


dark scene with a glorious beauty
Ct So shines good deed in a naughty


worldly All is grace, peace and holi-i
ness, and as my soul drinks in the


heavenly benediction, my heart ex-
pands with joy and peace, good will to


man, until ! feel that I could take the


whole world in my heart and forgive
all debts, as God would wish us to.


Oh! for the charity which "endureth


all things, suffereth long and is kind"
so that we might be enabled to say to
all that have ever wronged us, /" Peace


be with you" Sometime perhaps that


grace may be oiirs, for, if not, our
words and works of love were but
sounding brass and etink ling Gym
bals." If by charity and kindness we
can save ONE soul, even, is it not better
to forgive than to go on our way with


hardened heart and sneering lip +? May
God help and direct each one of us,
and bring us at last to His eternal rest
and peace. As / look to the south ward


can trace the winding of the river by
the timber bordering it, and + know
that the Wapsipinicon is, sleeping
peacefully under the roseate sky, which
seems bending in watchful prayer
above it. 10. the poor Indian still
returns and ssts upon its banks, but
cannot invest him with the romance
which is, perhaps, his due, because 1
have seen him in his dir" begging
something for poor old squaw," and
it seems that takes away all the ro-
nance and dignity with which he has
by some been endowed. II all could
be Tecumsehs, or, like brave Pocallon-
tas, perform some, bright deed, we could
better tolerate them, methinks, but
then the poor Red Men cannot all be !
noted characters, any more than we |
can all be George Washingtons, for
much az we would like to initiate the |
Father of our, country, we are apt to
fail, for poor, human nature is frail, |
and will tell lie now and then. I |
wish it were not SO. AS look again
to the southwark, I see, not garden
of roses, although in color they might |
be compared to that fafrest Of flowers
in the Vale of Cashmere in Araby the
blest; but what I see is field filled I
with nice cattle of varied 9colorAI
red and white predominating-i in I
number 250-and they are fine sight,
and should they feel like warfare and /
commence battle, would call it the
War of the Roses, in imitation and re-
membrance of the York and Lancas-
ter feuds of long ago. All the winter
the earth has been resting, preparing
to give its life and strength to the hus-
bandman in the coming spring. Soon
the fields will be filled with laborers
putting in the crops, which they hope
will bring them an abundant harvest
in the Autumn to come. Last fall
they garnered many sheaf which has
helped to secure their comfort during
the past winter, and enabled them to
rest in q measure from their wearying
toll When the fertile soil again ava
kens to new life and vigor, we cannot
know how many rich sheaves will then
be grown thereon; but may those who
garner them remember to thank the
Giver of all good things for the harvest,
whether much or little, and bless Him
for the rest which He gives them
the winter days.


AS write my eye fails upon a letter
lying on the table beside me. The lit
tie "white winged messenger" :" came
to-day, bringing me sad news from my
far off home, of tile departure of her
whom we have all known and loved
so long. / may not write a brilliant
eulogy upon her life, for 1 have so
many times heard her say she wished
no one to eulogize her after she was
tribute. She needs no lengthy obitua-
ry, for those who have known and low
ed her, know what her life was, and
the dearest wish of my heart is that /
might be like her. All! the poor, wea-
ry body is at rest now which has borne,
SO much pain; the feeble hands which
have labored so much for others are
stilled; those dear hands that have
scattered SO many blessings through
life,and gathered up SO many sunbeams
through years of toll and care. Is it
possible that when / return to the old,
familiar scenes, 1 shall find you no
more, dear Aunt. in the "places that
have known you?' How my heart
will yearn to go to the old home and I
so long been wont. to see her dear face,
aud hear her kind voice bid us q CHEEKY
welcome; but l know that :. our loss
is her gain" and the weariness Of earth
has found sweet rest in Heaven, for