Readers of The Continental, your servant and faithful caterer has been a sad idler and vagrant for the last month, thinking more of his own pleasures than of your needs and requirements. Forgive him, he is again a working bee and seeking honey for your hives. Have patience, irate correspondents; we have absconded with no manuscripts, and are again at our desk to give bland answers to curt missives.

We have been among the Adirondacks; congratulate us right heartily thereon! We have traversed pathless primeval forests of larches, balsams, white pines, and sugar maples; we have floated upon lakes lovely enough to have mirrored Paradise; we have clambered down waterfalls whose broken drops turned into diamonds as they fell; have scaled mountains and seen earth in its glory, and looked clear up into the infinite blue of the eye of God.

We have seen the gleaming trout, changeful as a prisoned rainbow, lured from his cool stream; and the poor deer chased from his forest home by savage dogs and cruel men, driven into crystal lakes, lassoed there with ropes, throats cut with dull knives, and backs broken with flying balls. Immortal Shakspeare! had thy lines no power to awaken pity for frightened fawn and flying doe? Did they not see

'The wretched animal heave forth such groans That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat Almost to bursting; while the big round tears Coursed one another down his innocent nose In Piteous chase?'

Alas, 'poor hairy fool!' why should they seek thee in thy mountain homes?

We have sat by the side of fair fragile country girls, and heard the experiences of the stout pioneers of civilization. We have tried to keep step with city maidens, shorn of ridiculous hoops and trailing trains. We nave known them trip up the great sides of Tahawus, press through the trunked and bouldered horrors of Indian Pass, float over Lake Placid, and scale the long steep slide up the crest of White Face. Lovely as dreams and light as clouds, no toil stayed them, no danger appalled; panther, wolf, and bear stories were told in vain by lazy brothers and reluctant lovers; on they went in their restless search for beauty, their Turkish dress and scarlet tunics gleaming through the trees, to the delight of the old mountain guides, who chuckled over their Camilla-like exploits, and laughed, as they plucked the fragrant boughs for their spicy couch, over the ignorance and awkwardness of their lazy city beaux. These fair Dians shoot no deer, nor lure the springing trout. We blessed them as they went their thymy way.

We have sat in the hut of the farmer, the skiff of the oarsman, the parlor of the host of the inn; tried wagons, stages, and buck-board conveyances; we have disputed no bill, been subjected to no extortion, and, save the death of the 'hairy fools,' known no sorrow. We have sat by the grave of old John Brown, seen the glorious view from his simple home, heard his strange generosity extolled by his political enemies, and think we understand better than of old the sublime madness of his fanaticism. We have returned to our labor with a new love of country, a deeper sense of responsibility, of the worth of our institutions, and of the glory yet to be in 'Our Great America.' What a land to live and die for! Every drop of martyr blood poured upon it but makes it dearer to the heart.

PEERLESS COLUMBIA

A National Song

God of our Fathers, Smile on our land! Lo, the storm gathers— Stretch forth Thy hand! Chorus.—Shield us and guard us from mountain to sea! Make the homes happy where manhood is free! Brave is our nation, Hopeful and young; High is her station Countries among. Chorus.—Holy our banner! from mountain to sea Floating in splendor o'er homes ever free. Proud is our story, Written in light; Stars tell its glory, Victory, might. Chorus.—Peerless Columbia! from mountain to sea Throbs every pulse through the heart of the free. Up with our banner! Hope in each fold— Stout hearts will man her, Millions untold. Chorus.—Millions now greet her from mountain to sea, Hope of the toil-worn! blest Flag of the free!

The following thoughts on some of the uses subserved by Art, are from the pen of the Rev. J. Byington Smith. There is so much truth in their suggestions, that we heartily commend them to our readers.

ART AS A MEANS OF HOME-CULTURE

BY J. BYINGTON SMITH

Art is closely allied to nature in giving impress to character. The scenery by which a people is surrounded, will modify and almost control its mode of being. The soft, rich landscapes of Italy enervate, while the rough mountainous country of the North imparts force and vigor. Mountains and seas are nature's healthful stimulants. Man grows in their vastness and is energized in their strength. Whatever may be the scenery of a people, it will mirror itself in the mind, and stamp its impress upon character.

Art reproduces nature, arranging its illimitable stores in closer unity, idealizing its charms, and bringing into nearer view its symmetry and beauty. Bearing its lessons from afar, it colors the glowing canvas and chisels the stone to awaken the impressions it designs to make on the human soul. Thus art, like nature, becomes a means of culture. When the Lombards wished to give hardihood and system to the enervated body and enfeebled mind of the people, they covered their churches with the sculptured representation of vigorous bodily exercises, such as war and hunting. In the great church of St. Mark, at Venice, people were taught the history of the Scriptures by means of imagery; a picture on the walls being more easily read than a chapter. Such walls were styled the poor man's Bible.

A picture reveals at a single glance that which we would be otherwise forced to glean by a slow process from the scattered material furnished by the printed page; hence the delight taken in illustrations, the importance of pictorial instruction for the young, and the almost universal demand for the illustrated publications of the day.

The teaching of art through painting, sculpture, and engraving, finds its way into our homes, and while lessons may be duly read from books and then laid aside, the lessons in the niche or on the wall repeat themselves hour by hour, and day by day, looking even into the pure eyes of infancy, and aiding in the formation of the character of every child subjected to their ceaseless influence. Their power is none the less because they never break the home-silence; they mould the young life and stamp their impress upon it. How important then that all such objects should be chosen, not only as treasures of artistic beauty, but for their power to elevate and ennoble character.

How often will you find in the room of the scholar, the studio of the artist, the picture or bust of some old master in art or letters, as if the occupant were conscious of the incentive such presence offered to his own efforts—the guardian genius of the spot.

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