It is cheering to hear a man like Ex-Secretary Seward raise his venerable voice above the melancholy hootings and skeptical screechings of infidel demagogues. in favor of the maintenance of Christian nurture, as something essential to the civilization of Society and the Race. Just in that strain every enlightened head, with a good heart under it, will feel compelled to utter its sentiments, whether the populace will then incline to elevate such a man to the Presidential chair or not.

All honor to Governor Seward. In the name of the Christian Public we thank him for his words. As the scars, which the backing knife of an assassin have caused, are the signs and seals of his Patriotism-no matter what party spirit may say-so are we willing to accept his late Address as the badge of a Christian Statesman.

"STRIKING PASSAGES FROM THE NEW ATMOSPHERE.”

BY THE EDITOR.

Strolling leisurely through a certain public Library recently, skimming over titles from shelf to shelf, my eye happened to fall on the "New Atmosphere, by Gai! Hamilton." When the thermometer ranged from 90 to 95, one might well be pardoned for seeking a new atmosphere to breathe in. I found this a very spicy book, indeed allspice; little sugar and much pepper. Many hard things does the writer say about the wrongs and woes of women. Instead of giving my own impressions of the book, I will give those of sundry unknown readers; who with a fair hand underscored certain passages, and drew lead-pencil marks along the margin. Very sorry I am that the fair readers did not append their names, or at least initials to their marks-which would enable me to give them the proper credit, and introduce a list of new, although involuntary, contributors to the readers of the Guardian. These margin marks, though consisting mostly only of straight, and sometimes too of crooked lines, are after all an expression of their approval, and in a certain sense make the passages marked their own. Little do they expect to find their productions in print. Like a certain English poet-they awake from pleasant slumbers some Autumn morning and to their surprise find themselves authors.

Here is a pencil mark carefully drawn around the following passage : "I have seen girls-respectable, well-educated, daughters of Christian families, of families who think they believe that Man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever, who profess to make the Bible their rule of faith and practice, to eschew the pomps and vanities of the world, and consecrate themselves to the Lord,-who are yet trained to think and talk of marriage in a manner utterly commercial and frivolous. Allusions to and conversations on the subject are of such a nature that they cannot remain unmarried without shame. They are taught not in direct terms at so much a lesson like Music or German, but indirectly and with a thoroughness, which no Music Master can equal, that if a woman is not married, it is because she is not attractive, that to be unattractive to men

is the most dismal and dreadful misfortune, and that for an unmarried woman earth has no honor and no happiness, but only toleration and a mitigated or unmitigated contempt."

It is true, every word of it. And I am not at all surprised that an earnest soul, chafing under the tyranny of this false public sentiment, should pause at this passage to draw a line around it.

The following has a pencil mark on both margins.

"Another, less fatal but sufficiently cool and more vexatious, is the injury that is inflicted upon natural and healthful association. Men and women are not allowed to look upon each other as rational beings; every woman is a wife in the grub, every man is a possible husband in the chrysalis state. If young people enjoy each other's conversation, and make opportunities to secure it, there are dozens of gossips, male and female, who proceed to fore-cast 'a match.' Intelligent interchange of opinion and sentiments between a man and a woman for the mere delight in it, with no design upon each other's name or fortune, is a thing of which a large majority of civilized Americans have no conception. A man and woman find each other agreeable, they cultivate each other's society, and anon, East, West, South and North goes the report that they are engaged.' It is easy to see what a check this gives to an intercourse that would be in the highest degree beneficial to both sexes, beneficial by giving to each a more accurate knowledge of the other, and by improving what in each is good, and diminishing what is bad."

The following is enclosed in pencil-brackets, most likely by the hand of some underpaid female teacher, of whom there are not a few. "Teaching is free to her (to woman) with the disadvantage of being miserably, shamefully, wickedly underpaid, both as regards the relative and intrinsic value of her work; but this is an argument which does not degrade her, only the men who employ her."

Parents have strong claims upon their children-their daughters. Gail Hamilton thinks too much is made of these claims. And a disciple of Gail marks the following passage in her book:

"If one may judge from popular ethics the duty seems to be chiefly on one side. Lions we are told, would appear to the world in a very different light if lions wrote history; so filial and parental relations, described as they always are by the parental part of the community, have a different bearing from what they would if looked at from the children's point of view. In our eagerness to enforce the claims which parents have on children, we seem sometimes ready to forget the equally stringent claims which children have on parents. Much is said about the gratitude which parental care imposes upon the child; very little about the responsibility which his involuntary birth imposes upon himself."

Had not the author of this book better advise parents to put themselves under the government of their children; let papa and mamma learn the A, B, C, of good manners and obedience of Charlie riding his broom handle, and from Mazie playing with her doll?

The following has truth and point to commend it:

"A man receives immediate and definite results from his work. He

has a salary or wages-so much a day, a year, a job. His wife gets no money for her work. She has no funds under her own control, no resources of which she is mistress. She must draw supplies from her husband, and often with much outlay of ingenuity. Some men dole out money to their wives as if it were a gift, a charity, something to which the latter have no right, but which they must receive as a favor, and for which they must be thankful. They act as if their wives were trying to plunder them. Now a man has no more right to his earnings than his wife has. They belong to her just as much as to him. There is a mischievous popular opinion that the husband is the producer and the wife the consumer. In point of fact the wife is just as much a producer as the husband. Many a woman does as much to build up her husband's prosperity as he does himself. Many a woman saves him from disgrace. And as a general rule, the fate and fortune of the family lie in her hands as much as in his. What absurdity; to pay him his wages and to give her money to go shopping with." "A sensitive woman is fully alive to her relations. There is need that every gentle and tender courtesy should assure and convince her that the money she costs is a pleasure and a privilege."

"Her work is in point of fact incomparably fairer, finer, and more difficult, more important than his. A man may work up to his knees in swamp meadows, or breathe all day the foul air of a court room; but if, when released, he turns naturally to sunshine and apple-orchards, and womanly grace, swamp mud and vile air have not polluted him."

On the margin of the last sentence is written in a very fair ladies' hand (I mean a fair hand-writing, for ought I know, the writer and her hand are fair too)-but here is written :-

"Why apple orchards?" How grateful and refreshing the shade of an apple orchard these sweltering summer days. And how luscious their fruit which will ripen by and by. An impressive figure of the paradise which the over-worked husband finds in the bosom of his family, after the day's work and worry is ended.

The following little lecture to a worldly husband, who makes his business a pretext for neglecting his wife and children, is marked, perhaps, by one who knows whereof she affirms:

"Will money give you the saving influence over your boy which might have kept him from vicious companions and vicious habits,-an influence which your constant interest, intercourse and example in his boyish days might have established, but which seemed to you too trivial a thing to win you from your darling pursuits of gain? Will money make you the friend and confident of your daughter, the joy of her heart and the standard of her judgment, so that her ripening youth shall give you intimacy, interchange of thought and sentiment, and you shall give to her a measure to estimate the men around her, and a steady light that shall keep her from being beguiled by the lights that only lead astray? Will it give you back the children who have rushed out wildly or strayed indifferently from the house which you have never taken pains to make a home, but have been content to turn it into a hotel, with only less of liberty? Will money make you the heart as well as the head of your family-honored, revered, beloved? A family's needs are not gay clothing

and rich food, but a husband and a father. It is the great duty of his (the husband's) life to be acquainted with his children, to know their character, their tastes, their tendencies, to know who are their associates, and what are their associations, what books they read, and what books they like to read, to gratify their innocent desires, to crop off their excrescences and bring out their excellences, to know them as a good farmer knows his soil, draining the bogs into fertile meadows and turning the water courses into channels of beauty and life. He may furnish his children opportunities without number, but the one thing beyond all others which he owes them is himself. He may provide tutors and schools; but to no tutor and no school can he pass over his relationship and its responsibilities. If he is a stranger to his children, if they are strangers to him, he shall be found wanting when he is weighed in the balance."

This too is marked-alas the mark gives us room to fill up a sad picture in the back-ground.-"Many and many a man would be amazed at learning that in the tame household drudge, in the meek, timid, apologetic recipient of his caprices, in the worn and fretful invalid, in the commonplace, insipid domestic weakling, he scorns an angel unawares. Many a wife is wearied and neglected into moral shabbiness, who, rightly entreated, would have walked sister and wife of the gods."

"The deportment of children to their parents is very largely influenced by the deportment of parents to each other. It is of small service that a child be taught to repeat the formula 'Honor thy father and thy mother,' if by his bearing, the father continually dishonors the mother. Monday courtesy has more effect than the Sunday commandment."

The

"It is much better to be the wife of an honest and respectable American citizen than to be Empress of the French-even looking at it in a solely worldly point of view."

Alas for poor Eugenie!

LETTERS TO CLARINDA LOVELACE.

NORWOOD, AUG. 4th, 1870.

MY DEAR CLARINDA :

It has been a long time since I have written to you, but when you have a husband, and five boys to care for, I do not think you will find much time for letter writing. This morning, as I was ironing in the dining room, I heard your Uncle Charles laughing very merrily in the next room, laughing again, and again, until my curiosity was so much excited, that I opened the door, to see what he was enjoying so much. The moment he saw me, said he, "My dear, I was just coming to read you a letter- Here's richness." And then, he read me your Aunt Betsey's letter, and laughed again right merrily. After a time, however,

he grew thoughtful and said, "Katherine-I think you ought to write to Clarinda, it's too bad, to let your Sister be filling the girl's head, with all her XVIth Amendment notions. Prince Albert, and your Brotherin-law were exceptional cases, and had to be wooed in queenly fashion, but tell Clarinda from me, that a man who can't do his own wooing, isn't worth winning, or marrying either. I always have believed in the old couplet,

'He either fears his fate too much,

Or his deserts are small,
Who puts it not unto the touch,
To win, or lose it all.'

Write that to Clarinda, with love from her Uncle Charles, and don't delay it long, my dear, for I consider your Sister Betsey's teaching very pernicious indeed. I should think Job had written the letter himself, if I did not know what very peculiar ideas your Sister has about these things."

Having relieved his mind, your Uncle returned to his work, and I, to my ironing; I felt that he had laid rather a heavy responsibility upon me; but concluded that he knew best what ought to be done in the

matter.

I do feel as if I was "stepping out of my sphere," in writing for the press; but have concluded to direct my letter, to the care of the Editor of the Guardian; hoping that he may be able to send it to you privately, without letting the public know, how greatly Sister Betsey and I differ, in regard to matrimonial affairs. You are old enough now, to know something of family affairs, and perhaps at any day, may be called upon to decide whom you will marry; and as Sister Betsey has taken the initiative, I feel less reluctant to write to you. Long ago, when I was a young girl, I was going away from home on a visit, and there was a gentleman in the family where I was going to visit, of whom I had heard a great deal, but whom I had never seen. Before I went away, a relative of his, an old lady whom I respected very highly, said to me, "My dear, if you marry Edward N-, you'll have to push the boat." I was amused at first, and then a little indignant, that she should class me, with the young ladies who went about seeking some one to marry, but I've often thought of her words since, they always recur to me, when I meet your Uncle Job. Good and estimable as he is, your Aunt Betsey certainly, does "push the boat." As for taking an oar, in case of necessity, and helping with "a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogether," I don't object to that; but I think it is a man's privilege to "push the boat," and if he does not do it, I never could respect him enough, to promise to "love, honor, and obey him."

As for telling you, "how to go about falling in love," as Sister Betsey says, I think Clarinda, such directions are beyond the ken, of wiser women than your Aunt, or I.

God has placed you in the world, and given you a work to do here for Him. Try to do it as well, and as heartily as you can. Love God with all your heart and your neighbor as yourself, and you will not have much time to consider "how to fall in love."