How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it,

As, poised on the curb, it inclined to my lips!

I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to The purest and sweetest that nature can

yield.

How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing!

And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell;

Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing,

And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well;

The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket, arose from the well.

leave it,

Though filled with the nectar that Jupiter

sips.

And now, far removed from the loved situation,

The tear of regret will intrusively swell, As fancy reverts to my father's plantation, And sighs for the bucket which hangs in

the well;

The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket which hangs in the well.

DRESS REFORM.

T. DE WITT TALMAGE.

CONVENTION has recently been held in Vineland, attended by the women who are opposed to extravagance in dress. They propose, not only by formal resolution, but by personal example, to teach the world lessons of economy by wearing less adornment and dragging fewer yards of silk. We wish them all success, although we would have more confidence in the movement if so many of the delegates had not worn bloomer dresses. Moses makes war upon that style of apparel in Deuteronomy xxii. 5: "The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto man." Nevertheless we favor every effort to stop the extravagant use of dry goods and millinery.

We have, however, no sympathy with the implication that women are worse than men in this respect. Men wear all they can without interfering with their locomotion, but man is such an awkward creature he cannot find any place on his body to hang a great many fineries. He could not get round in Wall Street with eight or ten flounces and a big handled parasol, and a mountain of back hair. Men wear less than women, not because they are more moral, but because they cannot stand it. As it is, many of our young men are padded to a superlative degree, and have corns and bunions on every separate toe from wearing tight shoes.

Neither have we any sympathy with the implication that the present

LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER.

551

is worse than the past in matters of dress. Compare the fashion-plates of the seventeenth century with the fashion-plates of the nineteenth, and you decide in favor of our day. The women of Isaiah's time beat anything now. Do we have the kangaroo fashion Isaiah speaks of-the daughters who walked forth with "stretched forth necks"? Talk of hoops! Isaiah speaks of women with "round tires like the moon." Do we have hot irons for curling our hair? Isaiah speaks of "wimples and crisping pins." Do we sometimes wear glasses astride our nose, not because we are nearsighted, but for beautification? Isaiah speaks of the "glasses, and the earrings, and the nose jewels." The dress of to-day is far more sensible than that of a hundred or a thousand years ago.

But the largest room in the world is room for improvement, and we would cheer on those who would attempt reformation either in male or female attire. Meanwhile, we rejoice that so many of the pearls, and emeralds, and amethysts, and diamonds of the world are coming into the possession of Christian women. Who knows but the spirit of consecration may some day come upon them, and it shall be again as it was in the time of Moses, that for the prosperity of the house of the Lord the women. may bring their bracelets, and earrings, and tablets, and jewels? The precious stones of earth will never have their proper place till they are set around the Pearl of Great Price.

For sore dismayed, through storm and shade

His child he did discover;

One lovely hand she stretched for aid,

And one was round her lover.

'Twas vain-the loud waves lashed the shore, Return or aid preventing;

"Come back! come back!" he cried in grief, The waters wild went o'er his child, And he was left lamenting.

Across this stormy water;

PER PACEM AD LUCEM.

ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTOR.

DO not ask, O Lord! that life may be I do not ask, O Lord, that Thou shouldst

For one thing only, Lord, dear Lord! I plead: Joy is like restless day, but peace divine

Lead me aright

Like quiet night.

Though strength should falter, and though Lead me, O Lord, till perfect day shall