The New Morality, 1874.

THE NEW MORALITY , 1874 .

Though Time ' s great glittering stream has hurried on , And many startling hours are past and gone , Since in another age , an ahler pen Essayed to teach and warn his fellow men ; TUo' seasons many and . Uvo' changes great Have served to modify our social state ,

It yet may be , that in this restless age , In vivid colours and in friendly page , Some Mentor still , may seek in solemn strain The thoughts of mortals to recall again To ancient wisdoms unpolluted store , To true philosophy ' s ennobling lore , And to the glad truths of a better day , To turn in loving trust and faith away

From all the follies which enchain us now , from broken promise and forgotten voiv , From idle luxury ' s unshamed disgrace , From that all hopeless , that all heedless race , In which the giddy throng so hotly run , To fall before their noontide course is done . And if alas ! to-day the pensive muse With keen but too surely choose

regrets , may To think of other time ' s and brighter hours , More tranquil memories and more chasten'd pow ' rs , Uixhilled by time , to bask in summer ray , Or linger 'mid the ilowery bloom of May , Oh who can blame her ? surely it is given To man on earth , though far from heaven riven , And tho' surrounded by these scenes of time ,

To dwell ' mid hig her joys and hopes sublime , To throw around this state of toil and strife , The glowing prospect of a higher life ! In the same way , when now in accents bold Advice is tendered , or the truth is told , Oh let not these life ' s denizens to-day , From friendly warning turn in haste away ,

Simply because they think they know full well , All that the moralist or sage can tell , And long have left their antiquated page , For all the wisdom of this wiser age . Oh may these words all lovingly unfold , Truth ' s better message , yet for young and old , May some brave heart , some tender gentle mind Both food for thought and . e ' en for fancy find ,

And learn in all the wisdom of her light , To scorn the base and to uphold the right , When thus in feebler words and humbler lay , Your poets seek that Truth to tell to-day .

Yet where begin ? how rash , how hard the task , To seek with sternness to remove the mask , Which grovelling interest or which lucre base , Has thrown to day o ' er ancient friendship face , So that those features once so bright and fair , Alas , no more their loving impress hear , Which once could charm , could soften , could beguile ,

Life's darker cares , with soft affection's smilo . Or flow recall what changes life can make , Diverging views the links of love can break , How those who ' ve once stood dear friends side by side , And sought to breast together the stormy tide Of earthly trouble , of trials great and sore , Part often here and part to meet no more ? Or how proclaim'd this life is " alia cheat ?"

i ' ts boasted pomp , or rage , a dread deceit ? That ' mid its hours of plenty , gifts of ease , Those hopes which lure us , and tho ; e joys which please , Upon them all delusion ' s gloomy shade Still throws its spelt , on all man's heart has made Of trust and peace , for all this side the grave We are forbid to keep and impotent to save .

Surety some hearts can still be touch'd ! of yore They meekly listened to that tender lore , Which told of human wrong and love divine , Of earthly frailty and of grace benign , Which served to throw around a sacred spell On scenes and hoars they all once loved so well , And as their steps mov'd onwards day by day , Seemed like a guardian friend to guide their way .

How peaceful then were all those happy years , How few were all their doubts and all their fears , Their sleep was innocence , their life was peace , And joys and years seemed only to increase ; Theirs was the heart without a thought of guile , Theirs was the merry laugh , the gladdening smile , For then they walked as ever in God ' s sight , And theirs were tranquil hopes and aspirations bright .

Is there no Mentor nigh ? no potent word Of kindly wisdom which will now be heard By those who swelling in tumultous strife . The noisy crowd of this all-hurrying life , Go on their way . unheeding without fear , Nor ever seek to dream that danger ' s near ? Oh , wondrous love of gold , what power is thine , To lure thy votaries to some guilty shrine :

How strange it seems , that none content remain , But risk their life itself in search of gain . To them this world is but a fitting scene For every gaudy gift , and glittering sheen Of money ' s golden brightness , for to be sure , The greatest , curse of earth is to be poor ! Hard is . indeed , the task of mine to-day , Harder perhaps the truth in truth to say ,

And calmly bold , and yet in utterance clear To bring conviction to some listening ear . Mentor . ( To he continued . )

THE bridesmaids at a recent wedding in Georgia are thus described by a local paper ; "It is no idle compliment to say that they are like three Graces , their faces mirroring back the purity and softness of the skies , their eyes floating in a lig ht of dewy tenderness , or throwing radiant flashes from the inner shrinea

of thought , like jewel-tinted sparkles caught from broken rainbows . " A telegraph messenger hoy in a Western State got his dispatches mixed , the other day , and handed a horse-jockey a telegram which read , " Can you supply our pulpit next

Sabbath V And to a well-known clergyman in town a dispatch was read . " The trot is p ostponed till Monday . Can't you come down and spend Sunday ?"