feudal ages, he is strong and mighty of himself in prosperity, but let adversity come, he clings as for very life to the grand morale of woman: it is the poesy of his life. He may assume to ignore it, but it is dear to him as his own soul, and he can not separate himself from it without doing violence to his better nature. Even though he be venerable, worn out-like a weather-beaten wreck stranded on life's voyage-he dies with the holy word of mother' upon his tongue. Woman is the complement

to his ideal existence.

"In order that you may be all that he imagines you to be, it is plainly your duty, and should be your pleasure, to cultivate those qualities and attributes with which he so chivalrously endows you. The homage of a manly heart is no idle thing. His ideal of home is holy, and woman is the genius of the shrine; and yet I grieve to say that I know many women who possess and exercise the diabolical art of making man unhappy, and eliciting all his more gloomy and unamiable traits of character, which should be allowed to slumber in oblivion. Who has not, some time in their lives, experienced the benign chill of a soulless household, where the mistress was ever on the alert to entertain strangers, but sedulously niggard of all sweet, genial homesympathy? Alas! it is too common to need description. Your talents, far from being solely the ministers of an idle hour, are godlike boons committed to your charge, and it should be your pleasure to voluntarily exercise them for the benefit of your family and friends in preference to strangers.

of the mind of youth, and guides his tottering footsteps in the path of learning? And what so grateful to the ear of man as the poems of our own grand bards repeated by the gentle voice of woman?

"Are you beautiful? Beauty is a priceless dower when physical perfection is a type of the beauty of the soul; but mere faultless physique, unaccompanied by equal moral and mental endowment, does not rank you above a pretty doll.

"But are you plain and retiring? Then you of all others should cherish those amiable qualities that mutually endear the home-circle. Some of the most brilliant savans of the past century, perfectly insensible to the enchantments of physical beauty and mental brilliancy, became fettered for life by the insidious charms of an amiable woman with quiet tastes. But all the vaunted accomplishments sink into naught when compared to the inestimable value of a 'meek and quiet spirit.' There is no sphere in life, no worldly position where woman can not work out her immortal destiny if she wills it. America, more than any other country, should have just reason to glory in her women. To them is given a position and latitude of action withheld them elsewhere. Yet do not foolishly envy those of your sex who have made their marks in the annals of fame, many of them were only struggling for what you have already: Home and friends around them.' Seldom has any sordid motive been the instigator of public action in woman, and for her to go forth into the world she must previously have undergone a process of mental naturalization similar to that of the ten"Do you sing? Many a care-worn man has been der, tropical vine, which in its natal clime is beauindebted to a familiar song, fraught perhaps with tiful and graceful, seeking support and putting forth the pleasing reminiscences of his youth, for saving delicate tendrils and fragrant flowers, becoming an him from hours of dark despair; for the heart gets ornament to the trunk which sustains it. But transshriveled up, like a seared and withered leaf, like plant this delicate vine of the sunny south to an unthe page when a flame has swept the scroll, in our genial atmosphere, withhold from it its wonted supfierce encounters and wars with the outer world; port, let it be swayed to and fro by the piercing blast, and if heaven-born music restores the spirit's tone, and you will find, if it survive the ordeal, that your why should not we be ministered to by those we graceful, clinging vine is now a sturdy shrub, capalove? It is not the grandest strain, nor the most ble of not only sustaining itself, but in some instances, melodious voice that deepest touches the heart; the by the adaptative law of nature, of even putting familiar tones of those we love can awaken far deep-forth thorns for its protection. Who would now er emotion. But you are not always gay. You have your annoyances-petty they may be, when compared with ours; and man ofttimes forgets that because of their pettiness they are the harder to bear, and to you they are great annoyances. The spirit braces itself up for the shock when it comes in contact with a tangible evil; but the petty trials of woman's life are frequently invisible to man's material eye. Yet, beware of 'household eclipses.'

"Do you converse? Conversation is a gift, a glorious gift, usually ignored by American women. While a Parisienne prides herself on her talent of conversation, an American lady usually ignores it. But what is conversation? The direct, vital communication of Thought-that godlike boon-'the knell of a dead emotion' without the obtrusive intervention of any medium of art. You are not obliged, like the artist, to have recourse to the pencil; nor, like the writer, to assume the pen; nor yet, like the professed musician, to be familiar with the gamut. You have but to be mistress of your native idiom to make others the sharers of your mental wealth, and of the more valuable riches of your heart as well as of your brain.

"Are you a good reader? Few women are; yet who should better know the art of proper enunciation and correct utterance than woman, who, in every clime and age, has more or less of the formation

recognize the tender vine? Its gentleness, its grace, its beauty are gone, and gone forever! The sturdy shrub, with its obtrusive thorns, can exist in the ungenial atmosphere, but the original plant has sustained a cruel metamorphosis.

"And thus it is with many of your sex who have made their mark in the annals of fame. The mental history of the distinguished women of either your own or ancient times is too heart-rending to be told. Be happy in your homes and in the genial society of loved ones. If you say that you fail to realize the latent Poesy of Home that we prate so much of, be satisfied that others do. We would not have you to weary in well-doing;' you are perhaps artistically too near the picture to perceive its merits. You will gaze with a more appreciative eye upon the present when it shall have become sublimated into the 'irrevocable past.”

hood" over a few sheets of paper, I rung the bell Having thus scattered my "Ideal of Womanand sent for my critics. And they entered, no longer giddy girls, but with the demure steps of womanhood, and quietly seated themselves beside me. And then I read them what I had written, including all that you have been perusing thus far, oh patient reader! and paused for an expression of their opinion.

They were both in tears.

Calico looked as though she would have liked to have thrown her arms about my neck and have a good crying spell upon my shirt-bosom; which would undoubtedly have rumpled the well-starched fabric sadly, so that I am very glad she did not, as I am rather particular about the appearance of my immaculate linen. The countenance of Chatterbox was perfectly blank with amazement. She was first to speak.

"Why, Mr. Tupper, did you lie on the lounge in the back parlor the day I called, and listen to all my wild rigmarole about the beaux, and-" "About the stern necessity of taking up with an old bachelor for a walking-stick, now that they all had deserted you for Columbia; and how you had read all my fine writings and didn't understand a word of them? And then you and Calico formed a famous 'Gunpowder Plot' to blow up the genius and reduce him to common sense. Certainly, I heard it all, and barely survived the fiery ordeal. And now that you have had your fun out-taming the lion-how do you like a bachelor's ideal of womanhood ?" "Oh, very much."

Chatterbox was silent; but the little hand I held in mine trembled violently.

"Chatterbox, when you left the room an hour ago, why did you ask, repeatedly, 'What does he mean?' Did you fear me?"

"Not exactly; but a vague thrill, an expectation of something strange came over me."

"And did you talk all your girlish secrets over with Calico-all about the absent beaux, whose haversacks you packed so bountifully-eh, Chatterbox ?"

"Oh, we talked over our affairs, of course; girls always do when they meet together in their own room; but I didn't say any thing about my beaux, for I didn't happen to think of them."

"But of whom did you think, Chatterbox? Come, be honest, and tell me what occupied your thoughts to the exclusion of those terrible beaux."

"Why I thought-of you, Mr. Tupper, and wondered what you meant by saying that, 'When next you chat together you may have something else to talk about.'”

"Oh, you remember it, then? a foolish speech of mine. You know, Chatterbox, that a genius "Thank you, fair Chatterbox; it embodies is the next step, either above or below a fool."

common sense.

"More than I ever read in any story."

"And you found no difficulty in comprehending it?"

"None whatever."

"How is it with you, Calico? Do you understand your enigmatical uncle any better than you did?"

Chatterbox blushed crimson, and stammered, "But I do not think you are a fool now; and I am very, very sorry I ever said that."

"You are forgiven, dear Chatterbox; and now to prove to you that I am neither a fool nor a Mephistopheles, I will honestly tell you what I meant by those strange words. I think you and Calico have about done with your girlish

"I am ashamed of myself, dear uncle, that I frolics; that you have finished up this very evennever comprehended you any better."

"Then I am to be a 'ladies' man,' after all." Just then the door-bell rung and my niece was summoned. The folding-doors were quite shut this time, and my niece entertained her visitor-whoever he was I took no trouble to ascertain-while I, taking the little hand of Chatterbox, commenced speaking in a somewhat lower key.

"Chatterbox, I sometimes have a headache, and sometimes I have a cold which makes me very cross; and sometimes I am in the humor to be 'doctored,' though it would be difficult to say whether I was ailing mentally or physically. Now, I know a young lady who, above all things, likes to play the nurse: do you think that I could engage her to take care of a cross old bachelor?"

ing, and that now, suddenly, you are no longer giddy young girls, but WOMEN. You can not go back and be what you were before you heard my 'Ideal of Womanhood.' Confess that it has awakened deeper emotions within your young breast than you have ever before known."

"Yes, it has; I never thought before what a glorious thing it was to be a woman. I always thought that to be happy we must always remain giddy young girls."

"Precisely; a mistake most American ladies make. They seldom learn until too late the art of 'growing old gracefully.' Now, Chatterbox, I have come to the conclusion, for some time past, that you would make somebody an excellent wife; but it is a long time to wait for those beaux to come home from the wars."

"Oh, they were not my lovers-only my beaux."

"Very good. But I happen to know somebody you intended to impress into your service when affairs were getting desperate, who pertinaciously refuses to serve you as a walking-stick unless he can volunteer under the banner of Love. I think he had begun to love you before he had even seen your fair face; but you was then so full of fun and mischief that you would have laughed at the idea of a crabbed old bachelor making love—"

"Love!" screamed Calico, bursting into the apartment through those provoking folding-doors

like a seventy-four pound shot through a redoubt. "Uncle Frank, are you talking common sense?"

The pidinest of common sense. Annie; then the junction of the Baltimore and Ohio

ly forms bustle about them. The ship-biscuit | beam out of the timber have answered it," in and milkless coffee are soon swallowed; and the honor of the perpetual valor of this most patriotic soldiers, wrapped in their coats and blankets, of towns. In no less than three of the historic recline upon the dewy grass. But hardly has pictures which cover the walls of the Rotunda the murmur of the camp died away when the are representatives of Marblehead. The new shots of sentinels and the alarm-cry of "Balti-pictures which shall reproduce this holier war more!" breaks the silence. The long roll sounds. We leap to our feet, seize our guns, fall into rank, and rush up the steep hill-side to the camp ́of the Sixth, and halt to load and prime. The rattle of ramrods and the click of triggers smite the still air. We sweep down the road to the spot whence the cry had come. The alarm was connected with the arrest of Ross Winans. He had been taken from the train coming from Frederick. Some show of resistance had been made, but the affair is soon settled, and we return to our damp couches.

will not be without her heroic presence. Beverley and Gloucester-wonderfully given to fun, frolic, and letter-writing-occupy the next street. Loquacious Lynn and conservative Newburyport share the last two streets. It would never have done to place all the argumentative shoemakers together: there would be no knowing how, with rifles and revolvers in their hands, they might have concluded to carry on their discussions. So Conservatism and Progress were hitched together; and the staid bearers of the name of Cushing and the lively followers of the Senatorial Next morning the brow of the hill opposite Crispin balanced each other. Outside of the the mansion was appropriated to our use; and last street was Pittsfield, looking north and here, in the soft May air of Maryland, the white west, protecting the camp on its most assailable canvas town of "Camp Essex" rose like an ex- side. So seven hundred men were housed withhalation. The camp was not arranged precise-in four-and-twenty hours after leaving the Capily according to "regulation," yet nearly enough | tol. to give an idea of the ideal law, which in the army, as elsewhere, is fully realized but rarely. Close to the trees was a row of tents-the dépôts of the Commissary and Quarter-Master, and the hospital quarters. The next row was that of the Colonel and his staff; next, the tidy quarters of the Major; then those of the Surgeon and his assistants. The yellow flag of the Surgeon was followed by the white one of the Chaplain, with whom tented the Paymaster. Arms, gold, and the Gospel seldom come into such close conjunction as they did in this tent. At night the Chaplain slept between a box of rifles and a box of money. The third and last of the official rows was that of the Captains. At right angles to these were the streets of the privates, more closely built and more densely populated than those of the officers. Yet crowded into these tents were many who in wealth, culture, and position were fully the equals of their military superiors. The son of an Ex-Senator of the United States, and the son of a “Bell-Everett" electoral candidate-himself a Boston lawyer-the green mounds beneath. But these are aldo duty with the musket, each enjoying his undivided fifteenth part of the canvas ten-footer with fishermen and shoemakers, carpenters and sailors for comrades.

Our flank companies are representatives of the flanks of the State. Pittsfield on the left, and Salem on the right. Next to the brilliant Salem Zouaves come the Marblehead fishermen. One of these companies deserves special mention, as the first in all the land to respond to the call of the President. At sunrise, the very next morning after the summons left Washington, this company marched from home through a storm of driving sleet, and Faneuil Hall welcomed them first of all to the service of patriotism with which it is identified. As they entered its honored walls, bound on a grander mission than any to which their fathers had responded, the "stone must have cried out of the wall, and the

The view from our camp was charming. At our feet lay a narrow valley through which crept the slumberous Patapsco, covering its face with willows. It had been hard at work miles above driving mills and factories, and seemed to enjoy its release from labor: only temporary, however, for it is soon caught again, driven into sluice ways, and broken upon wheels, ouly finding lasting peace when it melts into the bosom of the placid Chesapeake. Just at our feet nestled the little village of Elk Ridge Landingonce a port of entry and a haven for ships. But the washings from the hills have choked up the channel, and choked off the trade. Now it seems devoted to the imbibition of whisky, of which, judging from the number of shops, enough is sold to reopen navigation, were it judiciously applied to that purpose. From the hill-top the village had a pleasant aspect, with its two churches, one embowered in trees, and the other standing in a field of blossoming clover, the white tombstones casting a moonlight lustre on

most the only adornments of the village. The main street is a collection of wood and brick houses, with no sidewalks, and few gardens and

trees.

The walks around the camp were as delightful as its out-look. Deep ravines, heavily shaded, covered the northern and western sides. Through each of these trickled a tiny brook dancing down to the river. Threading the way through these glens one enters the upland, which opens into varied vistas. Above the viaduct the Patapsco runs through a deep gorge, scattered along which are mills and the dwellings of the workmen. The summits are crowned with the dwellings of the landholders and their tenants. Looking from these eminences the landscape spreads out in those softly undulating lines which rich soils only can exhibit. A hard thin soil requires mines of imported wealth and generations of

culture to give it character. But this rich earth enriches every thing. It thickens and deepens the age of the trees, softens the hard edges of the hills and gives to the whole landscape a roysweep and fullness.

Such was the ous-look from our camp. Let is now look within it, and observe the regular putine of its everyday inner life:

said backward, and the dish is spiced with unseemly execrations.

After breakfast comes the everlasting pipe. At eight is guard-mounting-quite an imposing duty. The band takes its station in front of the camp, and the sections detailed for that service march thither. About one-fourth of the regiment are usually employed. They are formally reviewed, and a portion marched to their ap

Pre

The are of a sciter is one of real and regular His hours of rest and labor may not in-pointed posts, while the remainder is reserved red be form, but they are none the less reg- for relief. At nine the whole regiment is called Lei Es not the n-acur system of the together. When in line a company is selected Satry, but didous system of the ship. The to march to head-quarters for the colors. jë the programme of a day in camp ceded by the band and the color-guard they mas xvi en ter forms of labor; move in silence. The flags are brought forth, et is generi Alines are the same day after saluted by the band in an enlivening air, carried to the front of the line and waved before the toos te mirties. A differ-, troops amidst presented arms, saluting swords, * Me, maar sumisis appeinted for each and ringing music. This exciting ceremony La alls of the is -em vale to taps. shows how completely the army is taught to maux accus B our recognize the standard as the centre of its life. HATA TATAMANI, ISTIM TE Luppy mor- It is the symbol of authority and power. Mi sem mu vien ci- The regiment is now formed into a hollow ar Audios & is neil us sammens square, officers and band standing within the semanga cur lines. Behind the piled-up drums, and under eng in siders at the - the banners, the Chaplain leads the devotions of Var's ar astmy made. the camp. At the close of his brief prayer the er sambers band gives forth the wild warblings of "St. Sas Martin's," the plaintive yearnings of "Sweet Home," the quick step of "Coronation," or the grand march of "Old Hundred." Pre-eminently martial and fitted for the field are these last We never tire of them. Only the last sought to be performed in its original movement, has a le which is more rapid and vigorous than the slow step into which it has been drawn out. No God save the King," or "Marseillaise," or Star-Spangled Banner" can compare with reicus airs in inspiring soldiers with that subme force and fury that makes them as insensibe as martyrs to the fear of death. One can - vik easy understand how the psalm-singing soldiers đi tới nhiều formwelland Gustavus Adolphus were roused APUR & D an almost divine rage by the passionate remen- fsins of the religious hymns to which they marched to battle.

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The service closed, the troops are sometimes swas ani pun ried as a regiment, sometimes in companies or squads, and sometimes dismissed till afterToon. Going round the camp near mid-day, one an see almost every conceivable form which the #as seeing of ease can assume. The trees in our rear were our favorite resort in the heat of the BONES day; for a tent is a furnace under the central A? - ires of a July sun. The oaks spread their cool i roof over the loungers. Stretched on his rubber anet lies the sleeper, wearied with his last sught's march and watching. A Sartor Resarus repatching his patch proves himself a greator than Carlyle in reducing to practice what he nere preached. Others are scanning the mornsig papers or the New York pictorials, or shuffle sad study lesser pictorials, with that intense soety of countenance which is always seen on is ces that are indulging in questionable sport. & Others yet, prone on the belly, are making a

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