Gentle reader,—you who are in the habit of going to sleep among the dying echoes of the day's rumble and roar in the city, to be awakened at intervals by the rattle of a vehicle clashing over the cobblestones, or some vociferous engine snorting and puffing as it comes from a long trip,—I place you under obligation to me by giving you this exhortation: Try one night in the country, where you can open your windows, and, lying on your bed, can look up at the peaceful stars smiling down through an atmosphere untainted with smoke and dust. Listen to the song of the whip-poorwill over in the clump of trees where the water murmurs. Hear the gentle heart of Mother Nature beating against your own. Think of God, and light the altar-fires in the soul's dim sanctuary, and listening to the faint footfalls of the “loved and lost awhile” as they tread the halls of memory, you will fall into a childhood's slumber, and awake a better man or woman. Try it.—Raleigh Christian Advocate.