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N. H.-Hanover Centre, collar and tatting from Miss Laura Smith.

Hanover, a package of children's clothing from Mrs Benson, also clothing from Mrs Daniel Blaisdell and Mrs B. Nichols.

Mass.-Becket, stockings and purses from Mehetable Huntington.

Conn. Meriden, parcel of clothing and basted work from the M. F. Society,

N. Y.-Wayland, package of children's clothing from Mrs Ira Patchin.

Seneca Castle, worsted scarf from Maggie Ann Morron. Middleton, box of clothing from Female Guardian Soc. Barre, box of clothing from the Juvenile Benevolent Soc. Sauquoit, box of clothing and dried fruit from Mrs Martha W. Royce, pair of shoes from Mr Mason, Norwich Corners, 17 lbs, dried apples from Mrs Susan Prescott. Richmondville, blankets, pillows and dried fruit from a few friends, per Mrs J. H. Rider.

Norwich Corners, parcel from Mrs R. S. M. Robinson.

Gloversville, box from Miss N. Z. Hayes, in which was a worsted tidy from Mrs De Witt Smith.

Maine, a box of clothing from Mrs Mary Thorn. Lyons, package of clothing from Mrs Fanny L. Hess, Somerset, bbl. of clothing, quilts, dried fruit, etc. from a few friends, per Mrs H. P. Williams. Maine, bbl. of dried fruit, beans, stockings and yarn. Rockland, box of clothing, cheese and quilts from friends. Nunda, box from the East Hill Benev. Association, 1 bedquilt, 1 cradle quilt, package of clothing, doll and toys from the ladies, Nunda, per Mary C. Barker. Brooklyn, 20 yds. of calico and pieces for patchwork from Miss Post.

Brooklyn, package of clothing from Mrs C. B. Davis. Package of clothing from pupils of Walnut Grove Sem, Malone. 3 doz, emery balls from M. W. Howard, jewelry and embroidery from Mrs C. J. Mears.

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* Bbl. of corned pork, beans, dried apples, flour and butter.

N. Y. City.-Package of clothing from Mrs Ward.
Package of clothing from Mrs McKonkey.

Spool cotton valued at $12 05 from Mr Wm. H. Smith, per
Mrs R. M. Buchanan.

White quilted skirt from Mrs B. Merrill, 6 book-marks from Jenny and Tilly Morrill.

Fancy paper for Gas Lighters, made and presented by the Home children to the Sanitary Fair, from Lindenmyer and Bro., 18 Spruce Street.

Pa.-Mercer, package from a friend.

Ohio.-Milan, quilts, caps, hoods, etc., from Esther Hathaway. Milan, and Catherine Goodman, Marion, per Joseph

Morris.

Elyria, bbl, of clothing, also fancy articles for Bazaar from the Ladies Home Miss, Society.

Oberlin, box of fancy articles for Bazaar from friends, per Mrs E. B. Clark.

Mich.-Vermontville, box of clothing and quilts from the Aid Society.

Important Legacies have been lost to the Home through informality. It is therefore earnestly requested of those who design to benefit the Institution by giving it a place in their last Will and Testament, that they would use the following: FORM OF A BEQUEST.

I give and bequeath to the American Female Guardian Society, incorporated by the Legislature of New York, in the year 1849, the sum of $, to be applied for the Benefit of the Home for the Friendless, or to other charitable uses of said Society,

The Will should be attested by three witnesses, who should write against their names, their place of residence, and state that they signed the instrument at the request of the testator, and in the presence of the testator and each other, and that the testator declared to them that it was his or her last Will and Testament.

Aims of the Am. Female Guardian Society. 1st. The Society aims to rescue from degradation, physical and moral, the children of want, homelessness and sorrow, wherever found, who may be committed to the Society in accordance with its Charter, and after a suitable probation in their institution, to learn to what they are best adapted, &c., to secure for them permanent country homes in Christian families.

2d. To reach as many as possible of this same exposed class of children, who, though prevented by surrounding circumstances, from becoming Home beneficiaries as inmates, may, nevertheless, be withdrawn from the education of the city street, taught habits of industry and propriety of conduct, the knowledge of the Bible, &c., and surrounded by influences that may be protective and saving.

(Several hundred of this class receive food, raiment, instruction and watch-care through the agency of the Society.) 3d. To afford a place and means of protection for destitute respectable young women, without employment, friends or home, and within the age and circumstances of temptation. 4th. To aid and encourage destitute American widows with small children, to avoid a separation as long as practicable, by furnishing apparel, bedding, etc., at discretion: securing remunerative employment as far as it may be obtained, and also to admonish the unwary of the moral pitfalls that often abound in the pathway of the lowly. 5th. To use the Press to enlist the Public mind in behalf of the several classes and objects above named.

The "Home," since it was established in 1847, has sheltered, fed and clothed, temporarily, many thousand children and adults. It is sustained by charitable contributions, and is constantly needing donations of money, clothing, provisions, &c.

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THE carrier of this paper, Mr. JOHN E. LINE, is authorized to receive subscriptions to the ADVOCATE AND GUARDIAN and also donations to the A. F. G. Soc. and Home for the Friendless.

VALUABLE NEW BOOKS.

DORA HAMILTON, 65c.

PICTURES AND LESSONS, 65c.
THE MEDICINE SHELF, 65c.

TEMPERANCE TALES, 6 Vols. in a neat box $3 30.

PLEASANT TALES. 45c.

HOLIDAY TALES, 50c.

MY LITTLE LIBRARY, 60c.
FAN FAN STORIES, 70c.
JERRY, 60C.

REPOSING IN JESUS, 70c.
THE BLOOD OF JESUS, 35c.

Sabbath-schools supplied with all the new books.
Catalogues furnished and all orders promptly attended to.
JOHN G. BROUGHTON,
13 BIBLE HOUSE,

692,5

ASTOR PLACE, N. Y.

Only Prize Medal, awarded to MARSH & CO., by the Industrial Exhibition of all Nations, for their New

PATENT RADICAL CURE TRUSS. Reference, as to its superiority, to Profs. Willard Parker, John M. Carnochan and Valentine Mott. An extensive List of names of mercantile and other gentlemen, cured by this Truss, may be seen at the office. Surgical and Anatomical Mechanicians, Inventors and Manufacturers of all kinds of instruments for Physical Deformities. Silk and Cotton Elastic Stockings and Knee Caps for the radical cure of Varicose Veins. Also a new style of Suspensory Bandages and Suspender Shoulder Braces. Open from 7 A. M. till 9 P. M.

MARSH & CO., No. 2 Vesey Street, (ASTOR HOUSE,) NEW YORK. No connection with any other Truss Office of the same 692,4

name.

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POSTAGE ON THIS PAPER. By the new law, the postage on single copies of the A. & G. is now six cents a quarter, payable in advance, in all parts of the United States.

A package of four copies, which weighs 4 ounces, sent to one address, is subject to no more postage than a single copy, according to Instruction 36, which Postmasters will please see.

do

do

From 5 to 8 copies, to one address, 12 cents a quarter. From 9 to 12 do 18 do and so on, at the rate of 6 cents a quarter for every 4 ounces or fraction thereof,

In order to receive the paper at the lowest rate of postage, it is necessary to take them, not singly, but at least 4 copies; and so of clubs, they should be made up, if possible, of 8, 12, 16, 20 and so on.

As an inducement to those who now receive it singly, to make up a small club of four or eight, the Ex. Com. propose to put the subscription price for four copies, to one address, at 15 cents a year, and for eight copies, in the same way at 60 cents a year.

Tuelve copies, and over, will be at the rate of 50c. a year. At offices where there are several single subscribers receiving it to their separate addresses, by their uniting together and having it in one package, to one address, it will materially reduce the postage on each.

The postage must be paid in advance, either quarterly or yearly, at the office where received. POSTMASTERS and others, desiring papers to be discontinued, will please send the name of the P. O. as well as of the subscriber.

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EXTRACTS FROM CORRESPONDENCE.

Sorrowing, yet rejoicing.—I have had reason many times to bless God for the Advocate; its words of sympathy have often cheered my saddened heart, and made my burden lighter. Not alone for its words of sympathy am I thankful, but by reading of the sorrows and trials of others I see my own blessings plainer. Eighteen months ago God called me to lay my heart's best treasure on my country's altar: three months ago He took that loved one home to heaven. It has cost me many a struggle to say, "Thy will be done," but I can say it calmly now, though my widowed heart still bleeds. When I think of my loved one beneath the sods of a lone valley in Tennessee, it is anguish; but when I turn and view him among the bright host that surrounds the throne of God, joining with them in their glad songs of praise, I can but rejoice that earth's weary journey with him is o'er, and that at last he has reached the heavenly port so safely. He labored faithfully for God while in the army; his labors were blessed abundantly, and many, we trust, were led to Christ through him.

M. D. L.

From the Army.-Dear Madam,—The enclosed draft for $20 for the benefit of the Home for the Friendless, is to be credited to D. R. Jr., 56th Reg. N. Y. S. V., Beaufort, S. C.

A Soldier's Orphan.-Dear Friends,-I feel deeply interested in the Home. Your work is indeed a mission of love, having saved many helpless little ones from much suffering and sin. We are glad to learn that you are making provision for the children of our soldiers, made homeless or orphans by this cruel war; they certainly have strong claims upon our sympathies. One such little one now shares the love and comforts of our family circle. Her father having been killed in the army, her mother, on her way south on board the Robert Campbell, was lost when the boat was burned at Milliken's bend in September last. The little girl of four years, apparently the only child, was cared for and sent to us by our son, Major J. F. Robinson. The mother's name was Hanson; nothing more is known of the child's relations. Any information in regard to her friends would be gratefully received by Rev. J. Robinson, Ashland, Ohio.

MARY W. ROBINSON.

Earnings of Lizzie and Hattie.-Dear Madam,-Enclosed you will find the sum of sixty cents, the earnings of Lizzie and Hattie F., for the relief of the suffering poor. You will please spend it in the direction which your best judgment may dictate. M. E. F.

Annual Pledge Redeemed.-Dear Madam,Enclosed find $45: $20 to constitute Mrs. McV. a life member of the A. F. G. Society, by E. D.

Judkins, and $25 by E. D. Judkins and wife, to redeem their annual pledge for the year 1864. Also, a dime from Thomas, our only child, one year old to-day. We purpose he shall continue an offering each birthday as long as he lives. We will do it for him till he is able to understand its object, and earn it himself, then teach him his own responsibility. As he advances in years, we hope his heart and means will enlarge. Is not this a plan worth the trial of many a parent, who desires to train up his children in the way they would wish them to go when old. E. D. J.

Eugene City, March 4, 1864.

DIED-in Fenner, N. Y., March 13, 1864, Clara Weed, aged 11 years. For years she had been a little sufferer, and for the last few months of her life her sufferings were severe; yet she bore them with Christian patience. She said to her weeping mother, "I am not afraid to die-I love the Saviour-I believe I shall go to heaven, and there meet my dear papa and other dear friends." She loved the Advocate and Guardian, and hailed its appearance with joy and delight. Her name is among the many "Children's Responses." Her mite was also contributed to help fill the box sent from this place to the "Home." She felt a strong interest in the children there.

But her sufferings are ended, and we will not repine, although we miss her sweet voice from among us. We will strive to meet her in heaven. L. M.

HOME CONVERSATION.-Children hunger perpetually for new ideas, and the most pleasant way of reception is by the voice and the ear, not the eye and the printed page. The one mode is natural, the other artificial. Who would not rather listen than read? We not unfrequently pass by in the papers a full report of a lecture, and then go and pay our money to hear the self-same words uttered. An audiance will listen closely from the beginning to the end of an address, which not one in twenty of those present would read with the same attention. This is emphatically true of children. They will learn with pleasure from the lips of parents what they deem it drudgery to study in the books; and even if they have the misfortune to be deprived of the educational advantages which they desire, they cannot fail to grow up intelligent if they enjoy in childhood and youth the privilege of listening daily to the conversation of intelligent people. Let parents, then, talk much and talk well at home. A father who is habitually silent in his own house may be, in many respects, a wise man ; but he is not wise in his silence. We sometimes see parents, who are the life of every company which they enter, dull, silent, uninteresting at home among their children. If they have not mental activity and mental stores sufficient for both, let them first provide for their own household. Ireland exports beef and wheat, and lives on potatoes; and they fare as poorly who reserve their social charms for companies abroad and keep their dullness for home consumption. It is better to instruct children and make them happy at home than it is to charm strangers or amuse friends. A silent house is a dull place for young people, a place from which they will escape if they can. They will talk or think of being "shut up" there; and the youth who does not love home is in danger. Make home, then, a cheerful and pleasant spot. Light it up with cheerful, instructive conversation. Father, mother, talk your best at home.

WHY NOT PRAY FOR EDITORS?-The True Witness appropriately raises this inquiry accompanied with the following pertinent suggestions:

"We have heard many prayers in the pulpit, in the prayer-meeting, and in the family circle-for parents and

children, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters-masters and servants, rulers and subjects, ministers and people -for all classes and conditions. But we do not recollect that we ever heard a prayer in our whole life for Editors. Why are they never thought of? And why is not the blessing of God asked for them and upon their labors? They have a great and a hard work, many trials, and solemn responsibilities. They not only need wisdom from above to guide, and grace to sustain them, but they need more than the patience of Job to endure all that they have to pass through. And yet men abuse, and find fault, and say all manner of evil against them, with or without causebut never pray for them."

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"Why, do you stay at home all day on Sunday?" said little Bob.

"Yes," said the old man; "don't you?"

"No; I go to church twice, and so does papa. It is wicked not to go to church if you are well."

It was only a little word, only a little voice that uttered it; but it went home to that man so old in sin, and it told him how wrong he was, and what a great sinner he was. Sunday came, and how astonished his wife and children were to hear him say he was going to church! and ever afterward he was seen at the head of his pew.

Remember little Bob, and that you are never too young to speak a word for God, never too small to help others to love Christ.

THE more we help others to bear their burdens the lighter our own will be.

For the Advocate and Guardian. LINES.

In reply to my absent boy, who asked, " Can I do anything for God."

RENDER Him now, in early days,
The offering of thy heart;
The tribute of thy love and praise,
And ne'er from Him depart.

At early morn, at close of day,

Seek his protecting power
To keep thee in the narrow way,
And in temptation's hour.

And when abroad, to scenes of joy

Thy youthful steps would roam,
Thou wilt not then forget, my boy,
Precepts of childhood's home.

By thy mother they were spoken,

Earnest hopes. and anxious fears;
Thou wilt keep their faith unbroken,
Sacredly in after years.

'Mid wonted haunts thy form ere long
Will not be sought in vain;
Thy voice in its accustomed song
May oft be heard again.

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the cause that I knew not I searched out."-Job xxix. 12, 16.

NEW YORK, MAY 16, 1864.

For the Advocate and Guardian.
WHAT CAN A YOUNG GIRL DO FOR HER
SAVIOUR?

LOUISA M. was a "dear little girl;" that
was her pet name in the family; dear always,
and little long after she had attained the stat-
ure of womanhood. There was nothing re-
markable in Louisa, but it speaks well for
one's disposition and behavior when brothers,
and sisters, and friends say so naturally and
spontaneously,

"dear Louisa."

Whole No. 694.

many times, immediate results from her efforts. She had heard and read so much of converting souls by individual faithfulness, and of missionary work generally, that it seemed to her no doing was of any account that did not prove itself by direct and apparent effects. This subject troubled her, and then she began to doubt if she could be a Christian at all and do so little for God:

There lived, not far from Louisa's home, a middle-aged woman, with a warm, motherly heart, and a deep religious experience. She had always known and loved the girl for her amiable, gentle ways, and since she had professed her love for Christ, had felt very tender

toward her as a lamb of the sacred fold. It had always been pleasant to Louisa to take her sewing and sit an hour with this pious neighbor. They had enjoyed many long conversations on important subjects, and now the young girl resolved to open her heart to this friend.

Our friend was a Christian; the love of
Christ had touched her heart, and she felt that
she wanted to be good and obedient for His
sake. Yet, she was not very strong; she didly
not know her own heart very well, and she
was often pained by mistakes she had commit-
ted, and discouraged by little failures in her
best endeavors. Like every true disciple, she
was hungry and eager for religious instruction.
She read, and thought, and listened when
older Christians talked about duty, and she
came at last to feel that if she were a child of
the Saviour, she must take up some heavy
cross, or do some great thing for her Master.
The girl was not by nature brave, or apt
to take a forward part in anything; she
shrank from making a revelation of her inner
life, and from speaking to others of her own
personal feelings. Still, she longed to do good
to others to do something directly to please
Christ, because she loved Him, and He had
commanded her to labor in His cause.

"What can I do for Christ?"" was the
question she pondered a great deal in the day-
time; and at night, in her closet, it was the
burden of her prayer. She did not think she
possessed any especial gifts to serve God.
When she had ventured, in the love of her
heart, or from an urgent sense of duty, to
speak to a companion, she had not met with
such success in winning the friend to love
Christ as others talked of, it really appeared
to her that there was very little in herself
with which to accomplish any good.

I know Louisa expected very definite, and

"Mrs. S.," said Louisa, as she walked familiarly into the lady's sitting-room, "I am glad you are alone to-day; have you leisure to

talk a little with me?"

66

"Yes, dear, 1 suppose so," said Mrs. S.; though that might depend upon what you wish to talk about. I have not always time for common chat, but if any one has anything particular to ask or to tell, I can make leisure." "I want to talk about duty, Mrs. S.-a Christian's duty," said Louisa.

"O, dear child," said her friend, laying down the employment that had busied hand and thought, "I have always leisure for such conversation. A Christian's time is not his own, you know, and he must speak as he has opportunity, of the duty, the cross and the love, just as much as he must do with his might what his hands find to do."

"I thought you felt so, Mrs. S.," said Louisa, "and that is why I came to see you to-day. I felt as if I must talk with somebody- I don't know what to do."

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useful Christian; I want to do good, and I don't know how."

"What would you like to do, child?" "I don't know; anything I can, perhaps." "Do you wish to leave home? is it some such enterprise you have in mind?”

"I had thought of it, but mother needs me at bome; and then, my health is not sufficient for any great undertaking. I have thought of the charity schools in New York, and of the heathen in foreign lands, and of the sick in hospitals, and, oli! a thousand projects; but I know I am not equal to any such enterprise, and I don't feel as if I were good for anything."

And here Louisa burst into tears. Her friend was moved in sympathy; she had known all these longings, and when her heart's devices for good had failed, she had learned how to serve and to love in another way.

"My dear," said Mrs. S., "if you want to do good, do it at home, right where you are, in your everyday life."

"But that don't seem like doing anything for God," sobbed Louisa.

"You know, my dear," said Mrs. S., "that it is not the greatness of the thing we do, or the kind and quality of the work we lay onrselves out upon, that pleases God; but it is the spirit, and motive, and faithfulness with which we do the duties that come in our way, the trivial things of life, that makes us acceptable with Him. Now, we must all serve Him with just the talent and opportunity He gives

us.

You can't be a Mrs. Judson, or a Mary Lyon, or a Florence Nightingale; but you can be Louisa M., the dear little girl who makes her home happy, and her own life rich and sweet with love and faithfulness, you can be brave for God in the words and ways of your simple home life, and probably he does not require much more of you."

"But, Mrs. S." said Louisa, "I should do almost all I now do if I were not a Christian; don't you think I ought to do something

more

"You can do all your common duties from a purer, better motive, can you not? you were kind and pleasant before, I suppose, but is there not now a deeper love, a sweeter enjoyment in denying yourself for others?"

"O yes, Mrs. S.; I do a great many things with a kind of love feeling for Jesus' sake, when the doing would be the same if I didn't love Him."

"Well, child, do all your duties in that spirit, and your work, whatever it is, will be acceptable with God. And then, if He wants anything more of you, He will make it manifest. We are all apt to overlook our real duty and its opportunities, by reaching out for something beyond. To be sure, if we have talent and strength for service beyond our present attainment, we must step forward into another place; but the most of us need arousing still to the opportunities that lie now in our hands. Christ's mission to this world was to relieve suffering, to comfort the sorrowful, to give of Himself and out of His infinite love and tenderness, whenever there was a soul that had need and would accept of His helping. And His disciples, in their human sphere, must follow His example for His sake. You, dear child, if you would be like Him, must try, every day of your life, to add something to somebody's joy and take a little from somebody's burden. Your own heart will best tell you how to minister to another's comfort, aided, to be sure, by that direction which comes from fellowship with God. The world wants

love, Louisa; it is the world's one idea of Christ and of Christians, and to look it and live it out of your heart to all, suitably and earnestly is, in your little way, doing good as Christ did. I don't know as the worth of cheerful tones and kindly words, everywhere and for everybody, can be over-estimated; and, young girls like you, who want to do something for Christ, can bring more sunshine into the world than they ever dreamed of."

"O, Mrs. S.," said Louisa, “you make it seem as if my life were full of opportunities to do good for Christ's sake, instead of being so barren as I thought for. But, do you suppose He accepts the little things we do for each other in a common sort of way?"

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Certainly, if we do them lovingly, for the sake of doing good as He does. Only a few of us can do any great thing for Christ; but He is satisfied with faithfulness in such as we can do."

"It is hard for me," said Louisa, "to talk with people about religion. I want to, many times, and don't know how."

"It may be right, however, many times, asking God's direction and then leaving the result all with Him. But, dear child, it is not this constrained talking to others that does the good we desire; it is living well before them that speaks loudest, and deepest, and sweetest for Christ. And, you young girls, full of love, and mirth, and romance, can, if you will, make

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your daily lives better than sermons. mean by growing prosy, and solemn, and unnatural, but by letting out in your tones, and words, and ways, the new Christ-love as spontaneously and freely as you do the laugh and song of common mirth. If your religion is a part of yourselves, it will be so; and you will be, in words and manners, as pure and sweet as little children."

"O, Mrs. S.," said Louisa, "don't you remember when Bella Edwards was first converted, how sweet and beautiful it made her, with just that little child sweetness? I always thought of the angels when she talked even about common things; it seemed as if there was a spring of holy goodness down deep in her, somewhere, and all she said or did gushed said, the thought of Bella Edwards would keep up from it. John B., who visits her so much, him from temptation, all over the world. loves Bella, you know."

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"That case illustrates exactly what I mean about the power a pure, simple life has, in itself, to do good. Bella's religion is a part of herself; it pervades and governs all her being; it is in her very laughter as well as her prayers; and her presence, as I have heard her young companions say, is as good as a sermon."

"I know it, Mrs. S.," said Louisa, and you can hardly tell what it is in her that charms you so. I supposed it to be some natural grace; she was always pretty and winning."

"We may say, perhaps, that she uses her natural gifts in the best service; but the sweetness of her spirit is more of God's grace than her own nature. Her ability to do good is no more than yours; her influence with John B. is no stronger or purer than yours may be with some other John. Do you know, dear child, that true, good women, young girls often, before they have grown sad and weary with life's bitter experiences-are God's natural ministers and missionaries to the men who love them? You came here, to-day, to ask me what such a one yearning for good can do for her Saviour. And now, I am going to

talk to you as few advisers ever speak to their young friends.

:

"But wait, dear, we have talked a long time already come again to-morrow, and we will finish the subject only commenced to-day."

Louisa went home, and in her closet that night, thanked God that if he had given her no talent for great enterprises, he had not withheld the opportunity of sweet and humble service for her Redeemer.

"I have come again, Mrs. S. !" was Louisa's pleasant salutation, as she entered her friend's house at the hour appointed; you see I am anxious to learn my duty." "Yes, dear," said Mrs. S., "and let me remind you of that most precious promise to those who seek truth that they may obey it."

We were talking yesterday of what a quiet home girl may do for Christ. By your asking I have the right to answer, though the reply may seem very personal. In the first place you may be an especial good to your brothers by showing, in a pure, simple life, how piety makes a woman better for every thing. You can make for them a contrast to the worldly and superficial women that fill the majority of every community. Your brothers love you, Louisa; and you may, by being yourself just right, hold a moral power over them they can never wholly resist or throw away. What the mother and sisters of a home are, determines greatly what the brothers shall become."

"But, Mrs. S." said Louisa, "it does not seem as if I could influence my brothers so very much; they are stronger, and know more about the world; and certainly they feel a great deal wiser than I do."

"Yet they come to you with their confidences, do they not?-their troubles and enjoyments, and flirtations? Don't Will test you by a multitude of questions, and suppositions and brotherly teasings."

"To be sure, they all do that; they tease my patience away, sometimes. I never thought as I could control them so much, though mother says the boys will do more for me than any body. The other day Allen came and told me something that concerned himself and somebody else; and then he asked me what a girl ought to do in such circumstances. I told him what I thought a good Christian girl would do, and why she would do so. He began the talk with laughing and jesting, but he grew very sober and earnest at last, and said he would give more for one good, true woman, if she were very plain, than for the most beautiful, without religion. And then he stooped down and kissed me, and said he wished he was a better man. I could hardly help crying as Allie went out, and I had to go up stairs to pray that God would make him indeed what he aspires to be-a good and noble man."

"So you have found one way, Louisa, dear, haven't you, to do something for your Saviour?" "Still I don't know, Mrs. S." said Louisa," as it is so much because I love Christ, as because I love my brother."

"But why do you wish Allen to be noble and good, instead of rich and fainous ?" "O, because I love goodness, and I want-yes Mrs. S. I do want my brothers should be true and good for Christ's sake; that is the real motive, when I look far down in my heart."

"And you are willing, are you, darling, to live carefully, prayerfully, for their sake, to influence them in all things to obey whatsoever is lovely and of good report?"

66

Certainly, Mrs. S., just as far as I possibly

can."

"Not only, dear child, to be a restraint upon the grosser forms of sin, as drunkenness, profanity, and the like, but to help them by word and example, to be thorough, practical Christians. I mean a great deal, Louisa, by the term practical Christian; it signifies that the tone, and aim, and character of life is in all sorts of things, true and upright: it is to be pure and just in all business dealings, in all social enjoyments, in love, in patriotism, in everything. Wouldn't it be doing something, Louisa, worth the best efforts of a lifetime, to help those precious brothers serve God and His truth? Child, it is not in great things your power or your duty lies; but in being always patient, and loving, and sweet tempered; by making home attractive, and by a thousand words and ways your womanly intuitions and Christian heart will teach you. You see, dear, there is a great amount of missionary work to be done in this world, and Christians who want employment need not go out from their owu roof to find work to do for God."

"I never thought so much about these things before," ," said Louisa, "and I don't think I have always understood mother when she said I could do the boys more good than any one. But I will try, Mrs. S.; I will, with Christ's help, be a home missionary. O, you have done me so much good; you have comforted me so, dear Mrs. S.!"

"There is another duty still," said Mrs. S., "for the dear little girl who wants to do something for God. It relates to your gentleman friends generally, and especially to such friends as are called beaux. You know, don't you, darling, that you have influence with more than one young man in some way?"

"In some way, perhaps, Mrs. S., my brothers' friends and my own are very polite to me." "Of course they are polite, and often more than that. You know, dear, that girls are apt, in their conversation with young men, to fall into a frivolous, jesting, nonsensical strain, that never leaves the talkers in any better or stronger frame of mind or heart; in truth, it lowers the tone of all. Would it not be doing something for God to guard against this weak tendency, and so lead others to sober, sensible themes and words? But there is one, Louisa, among your gentleman friends, you can influence more than all the rest. Don't blush soI know about it, and am not sorry, either. Mr N. has the elements of a good and earnest character; it will depend very much upon the woman he loves how his energy and talent shall be developed and expanded. Especially will her influence decide how deep, and noble, and practical his religious life shall be."

"I am sure, Mrs. S.," said Louisa, "you overate my influence with Mr. N., we are only very good friends."

Well, whatever you are or are to be to each other, if you keep this warm, earnest love for Christ in mind, and act it in all your communications with him, it will tell more strongly on your friend than you can be aware of now. You came here to ask me what one can do for her Saviour. Crosses you know, are of various kinds; and it is not always the lightest one to open one's heart and show a sad history for warning or admonition. To disclose a personal experience we would gladly withhold may be at a suitable time a duty we owe for Christ's sake to another disciple; so I tell you what has been a great pain to me for many years.

"I had a lover in my youth to whom I was strongly attached. We first met when I was

about your age, and became friends at once. He was a bright, attractive young man, and as such always are in the circumstances, was very susceptible to the strongest social influence. He had the hope of a Christian, and was, when our intimacy commenced, very thoughtful and tender upon religious points. I was also a professor of religion, but had grown lukewarm in my love to Christ. Conscience had a great deal to say to me about singing so many gay songs and the habit I had of thoughtless jesting wherever I was. At that time I was a good deal flattered by a sort of reputation I had for wit, and I liked to try its power whenever anybody would be astonished or amused. I do not mean I did anything very bad, but my ungoverned mirth quenched all the spirituality of my religion. I felt always condemned for it, and uneasy, and of course unfit to speak and act as a Christian should in many different ways.

My friend felt the influence of this very much; I saw it and was sorry, but was so fascinated with the thing myself, and so pleased with the admiration, that I compromised with conscience and reverence and that clear, urgent sense of right which lies deep in every Christian's breast. I did not intend to lead my friend away from God; neither had I any purpose of helping him to be steadfast in pious endeavor. My religious ideas and aspirations were not very definite, and obedience to Christ was not the living, purifying motive of my whole life. Still I believed myself a Christian, and had many struggles with these sinful inclinations. You must know, Louise dear, that this coldness and indefiniteness were contagious to one who loved me with all his heart. talked about everything, as lovers always do, for mutual understanding and appreciation; we spoke of religion often in a sort of general way, and I know that at times he would gladly have shown me all his heart, and drawn out my own upon the most sacred points relating to God and our own souls. But I did not encourage such confidence and communion. I had not the courage and the love to Christ which should have set me right, and kept us both right in religious and spiritual life. And so we drifted along, very much taken up with each other and our worldly prospects, farther and farther from God.

We

We were young, and not ready to be married for some years, and, after a time, my friend went away to seek his fortune far from home. It grieved us sadly to part, but even then I had no earnest, soul-full, Christian words that should sound through his heart in all the days of absence and distance. I promised to pray for him, and then came the great sense of lack. What were my prayers worth when the tone of my life had lowered the tone of his piety, and he knew and felt that I did not stand in sweet, holy nearness to God. That was where I had done him wrong, Louisa; while in morals the world called him good, I had, for all that makes the Christian, by my gaiety and indifference, brought down the tone and quality and excellence of his character. By and by he engaged in some speculations that made me anxious for the effect upon himself. O, if I could then have reasoned and pleaded as a Christian should, the snare might have been broken; but I had no power-the golden day had passed from me. Once, in the simplicity and integrity of his youth he had, as it were, laid his soul in my hands, and I held it lightly, for the want of Christ-love in my heart, and thus let it go, I did not know all my privilege,

and was untrue to the opportunity I was aware of.

He came home after a long sojourn, a cold, worldly, world-tainted man. I loved him still and he loved me, but not with the purity and beauty of an upright Christian soul. No matter for the rest, or how we parted at last. The sad truth stands before me in all its mournfulness to-day, that I did not help my lover to be a Christian-did not hold him by the strength of a firm and spiritual piety to the Vows of his covenant with God. He is now a worldly, hardened man; but I am persuaded that if I had been, in the years of our intimacy, faithful and consistent in my Christian profession, he might now be an advocate and an example of manly piety and excellence.

"Louisa, dear, is it not now clear to you what a young girl may do for her Saviour?"

"I did not think-I did not dream before;" answered the earnest girl: "O, it seems such a solemn, holy thing to live when we are so responsible for what we love!"

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Yes, child," said Mrs. S., "life is a sacred, fearful trust, but if we do not live for self, we do not live of self, and the strength by which we live is sufficient for our weakness. One word, darling, let me repeat: it' is not in great deeds or in great sacrifices that a wo man's duty or her power often lies; it is rather in the faithfulness and tenderness of a well-ordered life through the most common and ordinary circumstances."

Louisa went home with a new hope and a new prayer in her heart, and we trust the records of eternity will show what one humble, earnest life may accomplish for its God.

E. L. E.

For the Advocate and Guardian. CONTRASTS.

"Ir is a drefful thing for poor folks to have such a parcel of children," said aunt Betsey, as she took an extra pinch of snuff, and slowly rocked the cradle, where my fourth was smiling and sleeping by turns.

"Now! I should like to know what you will have to give your children to start 'em in life? It takes your little pinched up salary to give them bread and butter, now they are little. When they grow up there's no capital for the boys, no finery for the girls. How will your boys get a living, how will your girls get husbands? Depend upon it, it is not wise or best for poor people to have large families."

"Now there's Eliza. If she's spent a cent on her Thomas, she's spent ten thousand dollars. I heard her say so the other day, and what is he now? Just leans on her like a reed; knows how to do nothing but dress up fine, wear kids, sport a cane, be out late nights, poor appetite, looks sallow, no exercise, won't even cut his mother's wood."

"Aunty," said I, putting in a word as she stopped for want of breath, not having by any means exhausted her subject; "I read in the last magazine this sentence, 'Oh! ye mothers, how ye mold your boys. Ye make us just what we are by your precept and example.'" "Allow me to draw a little contrast between two boys trained by parents in the same station in life. Without any censorious feelings

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