upon her, she required help herself, and at least she needed, what no wife can dispense with, but she least of all—­sympathy, forbearance, and all those tranquilizing virtues which flow from a heart of kindness.  She least of all could bear a harsh look; to be treated daily with cold, disapproving reserve, a petulant dissatisfaction could not but be death to her.  We will not say it was—­enough that she is dead.  The lily bent before the storm, and at last was crushed by it.  We ask but one question, in order to point the moral:—­In the circumstances we have delineated, what course of treatment was most consonant with a manly spirit; that which was actually pursued, or some other which the reader can suggest?

Yes, to love is to be happy and to make happy, and to love is the very spirit of true manliness.  We speak not of exaggerated passion and false sentiment; we speak not of those bewildering, indescribable feelings, which under that name, often monopolize for a time the guidance of the youthful heart; but we speak of that pure emotion which is benevolence intensified, and which, when blended with intelligence, can throw the light of joyousness around the manifold relations of life.  Coarseness, rudeness, tyranny, are so many forms of brute power; so many manifestations of what it is man’s peculiar glory not to be; but kindness and gentleness can never cease to be MANLY.

Count not the days that have lightly flown,
  The years that were vainly spent;
Nor speak of the hours thou must blush to own,
When thy spirit stands before the Throne,
  To account for the talents lent.

But number the hours redeemed from sin,
  The moments employed for Heaven;—­
Oh few and evil thy days have been,
Thy life, a toilsome but worthless scene,
  For a nobler purpose given.

Will the shade go back on the dial plate? 
  Will thy sun stand still on his way? 
Both hasten on; and thy spirit’s fate
Rests on the point of life’s little date:—­
  Then live while ’tis called to-day.

Life’s waning hours, like the Sibyl’s page,
  As they lessen, in value rise;
Oh rouse thee and live! nor deem that man’s age
Stands on the length of his pilgrimage,
  But in days that are truly wise.

SILENT INFLUENCE.

“HOW finely she looks!” said Margaret Winne, as a lady swept by them in the crowd; “I do not see that time wears upon her beauty at all.”

“What, Bell Walters!” exclaimed her companion.  “Are you one of those who think her such a beauty?”

“I think her a very fine-looking woman, certainly,” returned Mrs. Winne; “and, what is more, I think her a very fine woman.”

“Indeed!” exclaimed Mrs. Hall; “I thought you were no friends?”

“No,” replied the first speaker; “but that does not make us enemies.”

“But I tell you she positively dislikes you, Margaret,” said Mrs. Hall.  “It is only a few days since I knew of her saying that you were a bold, impudent woman, and she did not like you at all.”