et us take Thomas for example, and see if it is his fault that now he is only a continued drain upon his mother, when he has arrived at man's estate, instead of resolutely earning his own livelihood. His mother looked upon the fine face of her darling and was determined that he should be a gentleman. Though she must economize and twist and turn every penny, he must live daintily, his feet be shod in soft leather, his body clad in fashionable clothes. Never must he appear soiled or tumbled; no healthy sports were allowed, because she could ill afford the rents and gashes that "hop scotch" or "leap frog" would make in the raiment of her boy. He must never go out in the rain without an umbrella, never bring in coal for fear of soiling those delicate hands.

Then, when large enough for useful employment, he must never learn a trade, that is "vulgar." She could not afford a collegiate course, therefore the counting-house was the only alternative. But the close confinement did not suit his nerves.

He thought it dull.

"I shall die of ennui over the musty books, mother, I must try something else." Funds slackened, but nice broadcloth must still be procured, spotless linen, silver forks, nice desserts for Thomas, dry bread for his mother. This is sad, the trying something else does not answer; the unsettled purpose will not make a strong man or a hero. Let us look at James. He has the same blood, the saine peculiarities, I might say, with his cousin Thomas. Proud and sensitive, desiring niceties, loving sweetmeats. Well! does he turn out such a boy?

We saw the danger and shunned it by the blessing of God; no dainties for poor boys. Strong muscles must be developed in cowhide boots, hard rain, no umbrella, no gloves but good fists; cheap, but nutritious food, plenty of work, early rest, and early rising. Lo! the result. He has literary taste, but can saw a cord of wood. He has invention, industry, is in a machine shop at fourteen years of age; and is prized almost too highly by his master. He says he does things right, knows just how to handle tools. Gumption, that is the word.' He earns his living already. It is not hard to bring a boy along so far and then turn him off. No indeed! The weight is off our shoulders, he is happy and contented. My father served his boys so, and often, when he was old and weak, a hundred dollars would steal into the homestead to add comforts to the scanty stock of the old people. I acknowledge that it would be a terrible thing to have children multiply, if one must dress them even in the cradle in the distorted fashions of these luxurious times, and foster their vanity and pride at the expense of their parents' comfort and strength, but, ob! if sensible maxims and endurance of hardship and vigorous example can save from ruin, my boys shall fight a good fight. So I took my hands out of the dough I had been kneading all this while, and took up my fourth boy out of the cradle to show aunt

Betsey his stout legs. 'My little blacksmith this is to be,' said I, laughing."

"Ah!" she said, "it may be as you say, though Eliza does say you are a curious woman with no ambition for your children to rise high in the world and move in good society; but what about the girls? You know girls are very encroaching after they begin to be young ladies and want e'en a'most everything they see in the shops. They tease and tease, and ery, and they will have finery. It's natural and I s'pose they can't help it. There's Almira's girl just come from New Orleans to make her a visit. I declare I was glad to see her take the cars for home. So self-indulgent, she thought of herself first of all; spent such hours fixing her pretty face before the glass, nothing suited her at home. The breakfast was cold a waiting for her, 'eggs were not boiled enough or too much, steak tough, cakes heavy, coffee thick, butter too salt.'. Even her mother, who adores her, was tired to death with her whims. For my part I made hearty meals and thanked God for my victuals. Dyspepsia,' that's what she's got. Folks did not have that when I was a girl."

"Did I ever tell you about my traveling to Buffalo with that celebrated Dr. of divinity and his two daughters?" asked we, willing to stop aunty in her tirade against Almira's daughter. "No! do tell about it."

some.

"I looked up," I continued, "with awe to the venerable clergyman and author, the critic and philologist, a veneration spread over his bulky person and smiling, but thoughtful face. 'What happiness to be his daughters.' I thought, 'what advantages they must enjoy! I wished to hear them converse. The learned gentleman was deep in some abstruse subject with a professor of one of our colleges, and even the splendid scenery we were passing through failed to attract his notice. Presently the cars stopped at a way station and the two girls became animated. They called in a breath to their father, 'Pa! pa! there's a boy with candies, wretched stuff! but still we must have Do hurry! he is going off the platform." So the good-natured pa rose and hastened as fast as his weight would permit, to satisfy the taste of his daughters. I looked at them; they were both over thirty years of age. Is it possible that a morbid taste for sweetmeats can possess such people?' I asked of Jane who sat near me. 'Dear me! yes,' she said, Mary used to eat over a pound a week. It was a perfect passion, just as a man loves a cigar or a hand of tobacco. She went on so after she was married until her appetite was all gone; nothing suited her taste but sweetmeats, and she sank into an early grave.' Now the father returned, and the girls had eagerly seized the package, beginning to devour its contents. Soon we stopped again, and oranges were espied by the damsels. Again that drawling voice, 'Pa, Pa!' Again he was in requisition to attend to their wants. Ah! so it was the whole route. I

was astonished, for I was educated so simply and strictly that all this seemed monstrous I noticed that he never partook of their confections, nor did they offer them.“

"The greedy things!" cried aunt Betsey. "What are men about, to marry such girls! What a drag through life! I only wonder there are as many happy marriages as we see."

"But the children! ah, the lessons in selfishness they acquire so early in life! God forbid that mine should become pampered and spoiled!"

"No danger," sneered aunt Betsy, looking toward Mary peeling potatoes for dinner. "I guess yourn will have work enough to take the nonsense out of her."

"Well, we've gossiped enough," I said, apologetically, “and let us pray for humility. I am always afraid of a fall when I feel satisfied with my way of training the children, God bless them."

"Nevertheless," my worthy relative added. "It is mighty nice to have money, and a drefful thing to be poor and have a great family."

For the Advocate and Guardian. LESSONS BY THE WAY.

"It's a capital way to expand your chest." Three young misses were walking towards me, the speaker, with her arms akimbo, the hands placed upon her sides, while she taught her companions this needful philosophy.

We see too many crooked, contracted specimens going to a premature grave all for the want of that healthful expansion which the observation of a few simple rules would give.

Watch your little daughter, as she sits at her writing-desk, her face bowed almost to the paper, and her back curved ungracefully; observe your boy as he lies crookedly in his bed, his head bent down until his chin is buried in his bosom; take notice how the young ladies suspend a heavy weight of clothing upon the upper part of the abdomen, and gird their waists with corset and belt; and then think how all these postures and modes interfere with the respiration, embarassing the air-cells in their great work of purifying the blood and invigorating the systein. Remember how the slightest pressure upon these spongy lungs contracts the vessicles and lessens their healthy action, and how the weight upon the hips and abdomen prevents the proper flattening of the arch of the diaphragm in the act of inspiration, and therefore constrains the breathing apparatus.

Think how wonderfully and wisely God has provided for our health and comfort, adapting this curious part of our mechanism to the air, and the air to this delicate organization, and then, with the consciousness that it is a sort of suicide to tamper with the laws of our physical nature, set about a reformation in your own habits, and in the habits of your children.

Permit the baby to creep upon the floor to the detriment of its snowy garments but to the

vigor of its chest-give the boys and girls plenty of calisthenic exercises to develope the whole body, and especially teach them the importance of the free action of their lungs. Throw away the high pillows, put shoulderstraps to the heavy skirts, banish the lollingchairs, and adopt the straight backs of our grandmothers' day; then shall we have fewer lily-cheeked maidens pining with consumption, and fewer weak, miserable men doling out tortured days with pulmonary evils brought upon them by their careless disregard of vital laws.

It is pleasant to know that there has been a recent awakening in the community to the importance of this subject, and that in our public schools the children are frequently aroused from a drooping, dangerous position at their desks, by healthful and welcome physical exercises. But mothers, in their own little world of home, can wield a mighty influence by beginning with the infant this bodily training which has such an effect upon the mental vigor of a man.

"Mens sana in corpore sano" is a condition which should be the effort and the prayer of every parent for his beloved children.

F. B. S.

Children's Department.

For the Advocate and Guardian. MY CHARLIE,

Ir was near nine, the time in the morning when I must open the school. Suffering with sore throat, I had slept but little the night before; had risen late, consequently the morning work was unfinished. After the day's toil it is pleasant to come to an orderly home, and I felt chafed at the thought of leaving things in utter confusion.

Charlie must be washed and combed and started off to school before I could go. The rain was falling and would spoil his good cap, he must wear his old one, and now the cry was raised, "Where is my cap; where is my cap?"

I had no time to aid in the search; he must look alone. Rushing out of the room, and racing down the hall, he called out to one of the lodgers, "Have you seen my cap, where the can it be?"

I stood perfectly astonished, mentally asking, "Can it be, that my child will use such language?"

In a moment the school-bell would ring; there was no time for a lecture now. Many times during the day I looked at my little one, and thought of other years when I had planned to rear him in the seclusion of our cottage-home, where he should be shielded from unchristian and vulgar influences. had prided mself upon the lovely character which I would mold. In a certain sense I felt my dependence upon God; still there

I

was much of pride in my anticipations. The predominant feeling was that my influence and companionship would develop both heart and mind, above what we usually behold in children of his age.

God had thwarted all my plans. The same blow which made me a widow and my child fatherless had deprived us of our earthly support. Upon entering the school-room, I was obliged to take Charlie with me, thus throwing him into the society of boys older than himself. It had been my prayer, and hope that a correct home influence might counteract the temptations to which he was exposed. I flattered myself that I had been successful. Several times I had been called upon to correct swaggering ways and slang which the reproof was ever accepted, gave expressions, yet the penitential air with me strong hope for the future of my boy.

Never, until this morning, had I dreamed that my child conld become profane. The shock which this thought gave me, gradually yielded to these reflections. My child must hear these things either now or when he is older. It is better he should pass through the temptation with me to strengthen him, than meet it alone when I am gone. I will trust in God and hope for the best.

For the Advocate and Guardian.

THE DEAF BOY.

OH, if she could but hear

For one short hour, that I her tongue might teach
To call me mother!"

I KNOW a pleasant boy
Through whose cerulean eye
There speaks, in silent eloquence,
A soul of order high.

"The deaf boy," he is called,
For pealing thunder loud

Is all the sound, save village bell,
He seems at all to heed.

Nor has he power to tell

If ever to his ear

There came the sound of human voice, To break the stillness drear.

In every view save one

He seems a mute indeed; No noisy laugh, or gibberish E'er from his lips proceed. Yet is that else closed door To one fond word ajar; For late his doating mother said "He always lisped mamma.'

KATE CARROL.

For the Advocate and Guardian.

A HAPPY HOME.

"My dear friend, whatever you do, make your boys happy at home," said a man to me, a man who had large experience in the ways of the world. I happened to know how it had been in his home, where a pattern housekeeper, his mother, had sacrificed everything to keep

In a moment the little arms were about my neck. "Mamma, what was it?" eagerly asked my child. I repeated the expression. asked my child. I repeated the expression. Why, mamma, all the big boys say that. I did'nt know it was very bad; I am so sorry."

I explained the meaning of the word, and before I had done, the little face, all drenched with tears, was nestled on my shoulder, and the trembling child cried out, "O, mamma, I have grieved Jesus, do you suppose God will forgive me?" "Yes, dear," I replied, "God will forgive you, if you are sorry and ask to be forgiven." Mamma, I am afraid He won't." "He has promised," I continued, "to forgive all who repent and turn away from their sins." 'Well, mamma, let's kneel down right now and you ask Jesus to forgive me, and make me a good

boy."

We knelt down and Charlie wept on my hand, while, with my arm about him, I prayed that Jesus would shelter my lamb in His fold. When my Charlie was tucked up in bed, he drew my face down beside his own as he said, "Mamma, dear, I am so glad that God will forgive, I hope He will help me to do what is right, so that I will not grieve Jesus any more; and not make mamma's heart ache any more."

As I brushed away the tears, I said, "Thank God, my child has been tempted, and been delivered. In years to come he will be stronger for this."

A. B.

neatness. The consequence was, that the boys were driven away from their home to find their pleasures, and no thanks to their mother that they were not all ruined. Some of them

were.

I knew another family where the mother took care that the boys should have the means of enjoyment at home; one room was set apart for them, they were encouraged to invite their young friends to visit them, and there was no frown if one came in at dinner or at tea. The care was repaid by their love and devotion to their parents, both of whom had their confidence and sought their happiness, &c.--they prosper in the world.

I knew another family where each member was too busy to have any time for "the boys." There was no common meeting-room for the

family, the mother was in her room, the daugh

ters in theirs, they were all occupied,-in good works, in religious duties it may be but all too busy to take any time to make a happy home. All I know is, that some of them went with bad companions, and I was not surprised, notwithstanding abundance of prayer on their behalf. "Faith without works is dead."

It is not sons alone who need a happy home; many girls are driven to society for enjoyment, because there are no resources at home, and some take the first opportunity to escape by marriage, from uncongenial surroundings. If our children are happy with us, they will be the less ready to leave us.

I would not imply that we should make the happiness of young people the first object in life, if it be, they are not slow to learn the lesson, and I have seen children grow up utterly and entirely selfish, from this constant endeavor to make them happy. It is possible to make home bright, and pleasant, and cheerful, without making the happiness of the children the avowed object. This may involve some effort and care on our part, but the object to be gained is worth the effort.

A jarring, uncomfortable state often becomes chronic in a household--perhaps without any real intention, and each one feels the effect. But such a state of things may be remedied by the spirit of love and a fair observance of the golden rule.

We are apt to forget that we once were young, and to feel that once having seen the folly of things, our children may profit by our experience. They cannot do so; that boy spoke the feelings of many who said, "I want to see the folly of it too."

Our children have rights as well as ourselves, and one of them is, "a happy home." Of course circumstances vary infinitely, but the power of parents' love and kindness may make cheerful, pleasant surroundings, even out of materials the most plain and simple, and as we value our children's welfare, let us make them happy.

For the Advocate and Guardian.

A LIVING FAITH.

VOLUMES have been written on this subject, but what avails the most correct and beautiful theory, if the living principle be wanting?

One of the clearest illustrations we remember to have seen of simple faith, is that of a single plank, bridging a horrid chasm. When the traveler ventures upon it he believes it will bear him safely over, he trusts his all upon it; and thus we should trust in the great atonement. It is not enough to say we believe in Christ. Letting go every other hope and dependence, we must absolutely trust all in His hands, knowing that although the stake is a fearful one-that our eternity depends upon it-yet it is safe, for the word of the Holy One is pledged for our salvation. How blessed the calm, peaceful trust of those who have this living faith! Sickness may assail and death seem near; our Father knows all about it, and life and death are in His hands, therefore we need not fear. Wealth may take to itself wings and fly away; "the earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof, and His children shall not want any good thing." Friends in whom we have trusted may forsake us, but we know there is one Friend who will never leave us, and He is better than all the friends of earth. Our country is torn and bleeding; the Juggernaut Slavery has called for blood, and it has flowed like water. Our fathers, sons and brothers have gone forth to hew down this horrid idol, and many have fallen in the

strife. Can we trust God now? Yes, for amid the smoke and carnage of battle we know God reigns. Above the moldering ashes of the heroes, whose graves make sacred southern soil, the tree of liberty shall wave, and the oppressed of all nations shall rest beneath its branches.

Amid the sorrows and temptations of life as well as amid its fairer scenes, a living faith is the great safeguard, and down by the river of death it shall not fail us, but open to our ravished vision "the joys He has prepared for them that love Him."

EFFIE JOHNSON.

Advocate and Guardian.

NEW YORK, MAY 16, 1864.

WORKING BY PROXY.

The writer of the following note has our warm thanks, with the assurance that the gift shall be appropriated in accordance with her wishes.

Irvington, Westchester Co., April 16th, 1864.

"My Dear Madam,-I herein inclose a check for a hundred dollars, to be spent by your Visiting Committee on the poor on their list. That you may continue to be blessed in your noble efforts to relieve the wants of the poor and sick in New York, is the prayer of one much interested in your CAROLINE M. PHINNEY."

Institution.

This is a tangible token that it has been put into the heart of another of the Lord's stewards to work by proxy. Another free will offering, giving encouragement and aid to those who search out and minister to the poor, "always with us."

An aged visitor, who responds to many applications made at the Home, states, that among three hundred and fifty-seven outside cases recorded upon her list, and visited, the past year, are seventy-one poor widows, many of whom are worthy mothers, doing their utmost to keep a shelter for their little ones, and maintain respectability. Some are pining in sickness and know not but the morrow may find them penniless. To such, a small amount, so bestowed as to meet emergencies, is often an unspeakable blessing.

A case that we had recently the privilege of aiding may illustrate. The mother had given her children to the Home, having first done for them all that her strength allowed, sometimes fainting in the effort to meet their daily wants. For many days that she lingered between life and death, the frequent visits of those who could tell her of the welfare of her children, minister to her necessi

ties, and speak to her of the Saviour she loved, was her greatest earthly comfort. The little delicacies that the sick require, were received as being sent by the good Shepherd; and thus her way to the dark valley was cheered, and suffering mitigated, till she entered that land where sickness and sorrow are unknown.

In a city like this, work like this is abun dant, and opportunities are not wanting to work wisely by proxy. Home visitors, tract visitors, Sabbath-school teachers and Biblereaders, all find them, and those who work through them by proxy, will have the blessing and the prayers of many ready to perish.

WHAT CHEER!

RECENT events in the progress of the war have not been of a nature to bring a feeling of triumph to loyal hearts. We have heard of a repulse of our troops here and massacre there, and partially successful attacks on the part of our foemen in other directions, on water and land. Our strength, which should be integral, has its weak points, because of avowed sympathy on the part of those who think slavery the normal condition of the black man, with their Southern brethren. We hear of brazen-faced iniquity in the capital of our nation, we read the traitorous or compromising words of some of the unworthy members of Congress, we see justice long delayed.

Yet have we hope. Why? Year after year of this war, as the spring-time came, has gloom settled down upon our hearts, yet, after long waiting in it, suddenly, swiftly some long-deferred hope has come to pass and sure progress been made.

For years, good men, who longed for the advancement of Christ's kingdom on the earth, prayed that with other wrongs, this system, which fostered so many sins, might be removed, yet they knew not how it could be done. And now God has arisen to "shake terribly "the nation, and shackles are falling off, and wherever there has been marked complicity with slavery there has war showed itself in some phase of horror, in riot, raid, massacre or battle.

From visiting our armies, people return and tell us of the noble and successful efforts of the Christian Commission, of chief officers who heartily encourage its work, of hardened men, who by direct personal appeal from Christ's ambassadors, are led to become active co-operators with the excellent chaplains, tract distributors, &c. They tell us of soldiers who crowd the temporary chapels, hungering and thirsting for the words of life,

and receiving them into their souls with gladness; of their uncompromising patriotism and brave endurance, and their prayers for the President and all in authority, that they may trust in the Lord Jehovah as their leader, and, guided by Him, win victory.

Are not the bondman's prayers for us also? And hath not God promised, "For the oppression of the poor and the sighing of the needy, now will I arise; I will set him in safety from him that puffeth at him."

And every

Thousands of wives, and mothers and children are hourly pleading as the days of danger advance, "Shield our loved ones in the day of battle, and speedily give us a righteous, enduring peace." Christian heart joins in this prayer. It is no thirst for brother's blood that nerves the people to give body, and soul, and money to prosecute the war. It is that the unity of the nation may be preserved, for if it once begins to break up, where will the end be? If, in this struggle, the one sin whose throne of iniquity is still in some measure establish ed by law, is banned, we shall have cause for gratitude to Almighty God. Other wrongs exist here, but what others are propped up by our laws?

THE following article from a valued correspondent, contains suggestions eminently practical. We earnestly hope every mother of a family will read and mark for reference the simple plan named by the writer, and just for one year try the experiment. Should they do so, we think they would continue it unsolicited. The present is a time when, if we would, like the good patriarch, "deliver the poor that cry, the fatherless, and him that hath no helper," new expedients must be devised to gather up the fragments, that nothing be lost.

We thank the writer for putting the good thought given her on paper, and sending it to the Advocate. Let the course she suggests be adopted, and its results for one, five or ten years carefully noted, and we are assured that both the gladness of heart thus imparted to the poor, whom we have always with us, and the reflex influence upon the home circles who unite in the effort will prove an ample reward.

“HE THAT GIVETH, LET HIM DO IT WITH SIMPLICITY."

How often do we hear the expression, "If I were only rich, how much good I could do, and how I would delight to give." And I may say that such feelings are not altogether strangers to me. But on devoting more thought to the subject, I can see nothing in the Bible, nor in the impulses of any benevo lent heart, that would substantiate the common opinion that we must wait until we are rich before we can enjoy the pleasure of giving.

There certainly is a very instructive and impressive lesson to be gleaned from the account of the "poor widow casting in her two mites ;" and I have thought that if we, who are not the possessors of wealth, could only dwell in the simplicity of Christian faith enough to be willing to give the "two mites"-the few cents, if not dollars, which we were able to give occasionally, and do it "heartily, as unto the Lord," might we not experience the reward which the approba tion of the Saviour can give?

I think there are those among the laboring class of people, who, although frequently surrounded by the comforts of life, know what it is to submit to the rigid law of econ Notwithstanding this, would not some act of omy, to make income and expenses meet. self-denial enable such to give a little into the treasury of the Lord? and, although it may not elicit praise or commendation from the public, yet, if it is done prayerfully and with simplicity, it would not be unnoticed by looketh on the outward appearance, but the "Him who seeth not as man seeth; for man

Lord looketh on the heart."

A beautiful illustration of what I have expressed may be found by turning to that page of the Advocate which contains the list of acknowledgments, particularly the responses from the children. They remind us of the little drops which make the refreshing showers; of the little rivulets which swell the mighty ocean. We rejoice to think of the mite-offerings from the warm, young hearts, and little purses, which often swell the sum to twenty, thirty, and even fifty dollars. We rejoice to think of the little shivering forms that are clothed and fed by them; of the little new Readers, and Spellingbooks, and Bibles which they place in the hands of eager children, who will one day be men and women, and without which they would grow up ignorant and depraved.

have long thought of, and one which I think But let me here suggest a plan which I will prove beneficial in establishing a more systematic way of giving alms. I believe there are many mothers in our land whose hearts often beat with ardent desires to do

good and lend to the Lord "by distributing to the necessities of the poor and perishing,' but who, living in their humble homes, with but a moderate income from their farms perhaps, and not feeling able to keep domestic help steadily, find that all their time, energy

and ingenuity are in demand to supply the comforts of their families. To such I would say, let us not be discouraged, but let us do cheerfully what little we can do for the cause of benevolence. Let us each have a charity-box in our house, into which we can place the gleanings from the family wardrobe for the more destitute. If this were so we would then know just what we had to give, and not have to say, as we often now do when solicited for clothing for the poor, "Well, I do not know whether I have anything in the house to give or not; may be I might hunt up something." Let each member of our family understand that a certain drawer, box, or trunk is devoted entirely to that purpose, and that all are expected to contribute something to it, be it ever so small a donation.

Such a box would soon prove itself the safety-valve of the benevolent energies of the children's warm hearts. There is Johnny, who will love to brush up his outgrown pants, coats, or shoes perhaps, and with his own hands place them in the box. Mary will love to employ her leisure in piecing a quilt from the scraps or bits of calico which are almost too good to put into the rags, or repairing the little laid-aside aprons or dresses &c., which will help to fill up the box and do somebody some good. Jenny's little heart will bound with delight as she packs away the little apron which she has bought with her own money and made with her own hands for the poor baby somewhere. Eddie will have a bag of dried fruit or beans to add, and Ann a pair of stockings or mittens to put in. We shall see little Ida's eyes sparkle as her dimpled hands place her little pink dress among the rest, because it is "too 'ittle for me, and poor baby hasn't got any."

And

Thus will the habit of sharing our blessings with those less blessed soon establish the principles of true Christian benevolence in the hearts of our dear children which will ever shine forth in their future lives. then to the poor mothers who are mourning the loss of some dear little ones who were so near to their hearts, I would say, dwell not on the outward. Do not treasure up their little wardrobe where moth and rust doth corrupt and thieves break through and steal," but with a prayer that a blessing may go with them place it also in the box, remembering that your darlings are now clothed with garments of everlasting praise, in exchange for the little robes you wrought.

Let us all seek to know our duty in relation to these important things, and knowing let us strive faithfully to do it with that simplicity which becomes every ChrisI.

tian.

"ASLEEP IN JESUS."

THE recent announcement of the death of Mr. B. R. Barlow, for the past seven years Superintendent of the Five Points House of Industry, brought sorrow to the hearts of all

who knew of his untiring, self-sacrificing ef forts, like his beloved Master, to "seek and save that which was lost." We doubt not the angels have many times rejoiced over repenting sinners whom he first taught the way of life, and that they gave him a glad welcome to their bright home, when his Lord called him from his labors of love to his rest and reward. 'Twas fitting for mortals to place a cross of fading flowers upon his coffin, while the Master placed upon His faithful servant's head the unfading crown of life.

Among the last precious words that fell from the good man's lips, were these: "My God, my God! the children, the dear children; train them up for Jesus, train them up for Jesus!" The sobs of the children of the mission, as his remains were borne from the church where his funeral was attended, the poor who gathered about its entrance, the tears that fell from "eres unused to weep," all testified to the strong hold he had upon the respect and affection of all classes. Of such as he, may it be said, with emphasis,

Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord, for they rest from their labors, and their works do follow them."

There was an article in the April number of the "Record," which we think must have come from his pen, so well did his life accord with the Christ-like sentiments therein expressed. Through it, "being dead, he yet speaketh" to every Christian heart, in behalf of the many little ones yet ungathered into the fold of the Good Shepherd. We copy it entire,

"I WOULDN'T WORK MYSELF TO DEATH HERE!"

You would not, perhaps, because you do not realize the necessity that somebody should devote themselves to the work in the love of it, not merely at the Five Points, but wherever there are neglected and ignorant chil dren to be found. I tell you unless Christian people consecrate themselves to the work with a full intention to take the consequences, sickness or health, life or death, if necessary, there is little good to be expected from their efforts, more than stopping the gnawings of hunger, and replacing rags with better clothing. Any one can do that.

You would not, perhaps, because you are not acquainted practically with the wretchedness and sorrow of the ignorant and vicious. You would be willing to work for the loving and lovely poor; but you do not realize how much more pitiable is the present and future condition of the vicious, the hateful, and hating. Somebody must stand in the way and stop the heedless and turn their feet from the pit of destruction. Somebody must be willing to risk their health and life

to rescue souls and bodies from everlasting perdition.

A little child heedlessly crawled upon a railroad track, striving for something that attracted its notice, all unconscious of the train which approached with lightning speed. The scream of the engineer's whistle startled not the child. The brakes were put on, to prevent, if possible, the dreadful calamity now so palpable to every beholder. In vain; it was too late to stop the train and the child was unable to save itself. Would they all sit still and console themselves by saying: "It is sad, but cannot be helped?" Not so. The engineer reverses his engine, and applies the brakes; then quickly, but cautiousy passes forward along the side of the engine, down upon the cow-catcher. One false step, one palpitation of fear, and all is lost. Calmly and bravely he grasps the coupling-bar, and braces his feet, then stooping forward close to the fleeing ground, just at the moment between life and death he grasps the child, and lifting it from the track, springs headlong from his perilous standing place, and rolls down the embankment with the rescued child in his arms! "Brave fel low! noble man!" you exclaim; and he certainly was. Some one standing by would have exclaimed: "I wouldn't risk my life in that manner!" No, nor would that some one have been instrumental in saving that dear little child.

Dear reader, you may not be called upon to endanger life or health, ease or comfort for the sake of God's creatures. But it is not all of life to you to live in endless routine of social enjoyment, comparing yourself with your equals in life, and satisfied with the elevation to which you have attained. There is a good degree of moral, religious, social influence granted to each one; and it is a pleasant duty to cause that influence, like rays of sunlight and heat, more or less powerful, to be felt by those below you in life, or who are less favored with worldly blessings.

Wherever your benevolence or your religion prompts you to go, go; and do not fear that the Master will sacrifice the strength of His laborers for naught. Our Great Captain never sends His soldiers on a forlorn hope, where certain destruction and no good

are to result.

You "would not work yourself to death," even with such an assurance, or such a faith in a divine overruling Providence? I am sure you would, if you could see the darkened spirit grow bright, if you could see the hardened spirit soften; if you could observe the child of error turn into the ways of truth; if you knew that cursing lips had learned the accents of prayer; if you found the wretched and hopeless, and had been instrumental in leading them to the Friend of the helpless and despairing; if you had found many a spring of pure affection beneath the mass of beggary, ignorance, and uncleanuess which you had to penetrate. Yes, you would, if, instead of the wild, untutored, reckless and faithless thing with which you first became

acquainted, yon now see an intelligent, trusting, hoping child of God, and remembered that you are to pass a long eternity of joy and gladness with that child saved and glori fied through your instrumentality.

If you could picture the long array of forty thousand children in this city who never attend Sunday or day school, and are growing wild in the street; if you could see the vast congregation of twenty thousand uncared-for ones who are learning the way to destruction, and imagine the wail of woe sounding from the deep of destruction, and feel that you might do something toward rescuing one soul at least from such a fate, I am sure you would feel like risking your life to save that one.

LIFE'S WAY AND END.

GOD's chosen people, wandering and weary, murmured often against Him who had led them forth from the land of oppression and sighing, into the wilderness, on their way to the promised Canaan. The trials of the way made them often lose sight of its glorious end. What a hard path indeed they made it, sinning and suffering again and again, until they were made ready, worthy to enter upon their inheritance; until the sons of those who had feared when their late masters pursued them, exclaiming, "It had been better to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness," were manly and grave, and ready to obey God's command to smite the wicked Canaanites and take possession of the goodly land.

Oh! how should those that now fear the Lord, take courage from these things. Though the way seems long and rough, and enemies are near, God watcheth and guardeth ever. He is the pillar of cloud by day and of fire by night, to lead them on through unknown paths. The enemy may pursue until some barrier impassable as the Red Sea stretches out before the pained vision; their hearts may fail, but God fails never; He will make them triumph over their enraged pursuers.

If His people hunger, He will send manna from heaven; if then they murmur, He will send affliction. If they thirst, from the flinty rock He will bid refreshing waters flow. If they forget Him, He will leave them to their own hearts' devices, until, in shame and repentance for some heinous sin they have committed, they acknowledge with gratitude the power and riches of restraining grace. Having at last put their whole trust in Him whom they have learned is the Rock of their salvation, and the Source of all wisdom and strength, they will enter into a rest which is