When public measures receive the sanction of the civil government, which are deemed destructive to the best interests of the nation, and in utter hostility to every principle of morality and religion,--disheartening as the fact may be, this consolation still remains to the humble and sincere believer in the superintendence of an overruling Providence, that truth and virtue will eventually be signally triumphant. This cheering conviction, where there is a consciousness of duty faithfully performed, will gild with radiance the most gloomy prospect. The present is emphatically the season of genial feelings, and nothing imparts a livelier relish for its beauties, than that amiable temper of mind which on all occasions delights to dwell on the most "_favourable side of things_." FOR THE RURAL MAGAZINE. THE VILLAGE TEACHER. The three great periods of life have each their natural and appropriate characteristic. The eager expectation, the buoyant hope and elastic energy, which lend their own joyous brilliancy to every object around them, and build in the unknown future so fair and beautiful a fabric of happiness, last not beyond the period of youth. The anxious brow, the cold and untrusting prudence, which succeed, but too surely indicate how many of our fairy visions have become dim in the reality; while the steady industry and calculating foresight with which manhood pursues more practical and perhaps grovelling objects, stamp upon it a peculiar character of strength, and seriousness, and sternness. As this relaxes in the course of years, our ability and inclination for active pursuits give way; and as the termination of our journey is approached, the hope of future distinction ceases, and we naturally fill up the void which is thus left in the mind, by a retrospect of our past actions.--Thus it is that the seasons of life, like those of the year, are each most beautiful in its own proper adornings, and that there is none more delightful or endearing than reverend age. The long experience which has tried the worthlessness of so many empty and vanishing hopes, and which can pronounce with certainty respecting that which remaineth; the knowledge of those past events, that form the link as it were between us and history, and which not only aids us in deciphering the past, but is endued with a prophetic gift; the attempered zeal, the tranquil repose of the passions, so finely and happily compared to the decline of day--impart their pure and elevated feelings to the mind of the beholder.