young Irishman, the picture of strength and life, terribly wounded in the side, from which the blood had flowed over his blue clothes,

even down to his great, coarse boots-his right hand, stiff and powerless, hung down by the side of the stretcher, touching the ground. Long and agonizing had been the rough ride through the woods, in the jolting ambulance, and when at last the boat was reached, the spark of life, that had struggled against its own agony, went out forever. I had his pockets searched to find some clue to his friends, and there-received by him, when in South Carolina, under Gen. Gilmore was a letter, perfectly saturated, dripping with the warm life-blood! O Lord, do I need Thy forgiveness if, reading it under that burning Southern sky, with those death-booming guns in my ear, those open graves and lifeless forms before me, I pledged undying hatred to that vile, that accursed institution, for our sufferance of which, and our sins, Thou art chastising us to-day, and our land is deluged with blood?

It was addressed to Patrick Dalton, of a Connecticut regiment, and is as follows:

"Waterbury, Conn., April 20th, 1864.

Dear husband,-I received your kind and welcome letter. I am glad to hear that you are in good health; I don't feel very well myself. Mary got over the measles very well, but she has been sick since I moved. Get the order for the twenty-five dollars, from your Captain, in town-money, and send to Bellog. You must be careful about your money, and send all you can home. You will want it, when you come home; if you don't, we never can buy a little place, because places are so dear. All you can spare, we will want it, and all you send to me, I will take care of it. You must say your prayers, morning and night, and pray to God to send you home safe.

I tried all I could to get a place. It is not with a little money a place can be got now. Mary is a big girl-you would hardly know her if you saw her. She never stops calling you; she is the image of you. She gets the little stool and puts it under her feet when she sits on the chair. As for myself, I would not be living without her. I have no company, only her no one to come in or out to see me. * If there is anything that you wish for, I can send it to you. I can send a little of everything. Write, as soon as you get this letter, and let me know if you want anything.

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

Mary sends three kisses to you. Every day, when I ask her where are your kisses, she gives them to me. Your friends are well, or all I see of them. No more, at present. From your affectionate wife, until death, HONORA DALTON."

What a task was mine!-to crush such a warm, womanly heart forever by such tidings! Very different was the letter I wrote from the one to Leonard's mother. No soothing balm was there to infuse into her cup of anguish. I saw him only when life had departed, so my letter was brief enough. I enclosed the bloody letter he had faithfully carried, and a lock of light, short hair. To-day I received her reply.

BE YOUR OWN EXECUTOR. "URGE those who are stewards to be their own executors," said a friend, recently, who has learned by personal experience how much more blessed it is to give than to receive. Many are becoming suddenly rich, while others are suffering the loss of all things. Numerous objects of charity need now to be relieved. Present opportunities postponed, may not return. Disbursements left for oth

ers to make, may be made less wisely, and accomplish less than was designed by the donor. Circumstances may change, and precious opportunities be lost forever. As there. are also other considerations of equal moment, may we not bespeak for this practical theme the skill of some gifted pen.

our vast armies-the conflict waging, the numbers slain and in hospital, the appeals of refugees, the heart-anguish caused by the war, and still augmenting-and from such post of observation none can forget the Mercy-seat.

That God is moving in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform, is manifest in such events as that named in the following paragraph,

"THE ABOLITION OF SLAVERY IN MARYLAND. The Constitutional Convention of Maryland adopted, on Friday last, by a vote of fifty-three against twenty-seven, an article declaring free all slaves in the State, and forever prohibiting involuntary servitude, An instantaneous and complete sweep is made of every vestige of the institution. For the last year or two it has been clear enough that Maryland would adopt the policy of emancipation; but not until lately was it clear that she would make such swift and thorough work of it."

NO MOTHERS IN NOVELS.

WHAT harm is there in reading novels? is a frequent inquiry among the young. They are slow to believe that danger may lurk unseen within the lids of a book, whose table of contents seems most attractive.

We find the following sensible remarks in the Rural New-Yorker, and commend them to the special attention of mothers and daughters.

"No MOTHERS IN NOVELS.-The fact has recently been stated by a writer on modern

novels and novelists, that few authors of ficcharacter of a mother. Dickens has very few tion attempt to introduce into their works the in the many volumes which he has written. None of Miss Bronte's heroines have a mother; and even Sir Walter Scott and Miss Edgeworth rarely introduced the character. "The heroines of fiction have no mothers." There are The simple,

exceptions, but they are rare. natural relations of life furnish small scope to the inventive genius of writers, who aim not so much to instruct as to startle and amaze. No one can have read novels without having had the conviction forced upon the mind that secrecy and misunderstanding, not to say deception, underlie every work or fiction. By an outspoken word or candid avowal of the truth, the long-drawn, torturing array of circumstances would melt into air, and the romance be turned into the reality of daily life. This necessity of deception doubtless has much to do with the expulsion of mothers from the pages of novels. The heroine must remain the victim of attentions and sufferings from which no one has authority or power to set her free.

"Ir there ever was a time in the history of nations when every heart seemed compelled to call upon God, surely such a time is the present for the people of this country. Great issues are at stake for the nation, the Church, and humanity." Such is the voice of the religious press and such is the conviction of every Christian heart. Our readers doubtless learn from the daily But a still stronger cause for the omission papers, far better than from any other source, exists in the fact that a heroine must be suf how to comprehend the present situation offered to act out, without restraint, those

natural impulses and wild passions of her heart which any mother, however worldly, would grieve to behold exemplified in a daughter. Liberty of speech and liberty of action are inseparable from the brilliant heroine of a sensation novel. She coul1 never be subjected for a moment to the gentle check of a mother's presence and loving glance. Thus the mother is dispensed with as an element quite too dull and common-place to be compatible with popular taste."

mance.

In this lies the harm of the popular roThe sympathy of the youthful reader is enlisted, and the heroine of the tale becomes, to some extent, and perhaps unconsciously, an example for imitation. False views and unsafe principles are imbibed, temptation comes-is not resisted persistently-the counsel of the faithful, loving mother is not sought, and presently hopes are wrecked more precious than life.

But yesterday we had occasion to converse with two young women belonging to worthy families, and richly endowed with every native grace. They had enjoyed the advantages of education, pleasant social privileges, the love and protection of kind parents, and yet while in their teens they were victims of the designing, their peace marred, good name blighted, parents grieved and broken hearted by their indiscretion, and all the result of filial disobedience, and misguided self-confidenee. Said one of these, "I do not wish to live-O! if I were only prepared to die. What shall I do? Where shall I go?"

These are but representative cases-multiplied on every hand in a fearful ratio. The causes are found not only in the perusal of books that have "no mothers" in them, but in the pursuits, associations and neglect of faithful Bible instruction permitted in many families. Too many children mature too soon, are restive, if restrained, reckless of moral danger-sure that they can take care of themselves, till suddenly, and all too late, they see that this their way has been their folly, and deplore the indulgence that has only borne fruit for unavailing repentance.

We regard the early conversion of the young, their early love for the Word of God, and a constant desire to understand and obey its precepts, as their only safeguard from moral pitfalls, the only sure guarantee for their peace and happiness, both in this life, and far down the ages.

A PLEASANT INCIDENT.

A MEMBER of our Board has kindly handed us for perusal, a most interesting letter from her son, Rev. L. Baylis, who is spend.

ing a brief season at the Sandwich Islands in search of health. He gives a graphic picture of the wonders seen in this far-off land-contrasts its past and present history, describes the present appearance of its churches and their occupants, speaks admiringly of its missionaries and the blessed fruits of their lifelong toil, mentions one church that has 12. 000 on its entire roll, of whom 4.400 are now in connection with it, and says that last year this church contributed $3.210 for religious purposes. Verily "What hath God wrought !" Mention is also made of the agencies for evil still put forth in high and low places, showing that the conflict between the powers of light and of darkness is waged with ceaseless vigor.

After speaking of a communion season in one of the churches, Mr. B. says:

"There are quite a number of old missionaries here, quite superannuated, but the most noticeable are an aged couple near the pulpit. The old man, with snowy hair and beard, yet standing erect, and singing with the rest, and the old lady with the sunburnt face and gentle eye, are Mr. and Mrs. Thurston, the very first missionaries who ever landed on this soil. Many sad and happy things they have seen, he has twice or thrice been paralyzed, but is quite hearty and happy still. wife is one of the notable women; before her children went East to be educated, she took them all with her around the island of Hawaii -at least 300 miles-on foot l"

Several noted individuals are also named who represent the native character, as molded by education and religion or the reverse, we quote the following:

"Keknanaoa is an aged man, and the father of the late and present king. He is a tall and splendid man, most courteous and elegant in his manners, and a Christian. One of his daughters, the princess Victoria, who is the next heir to the crown, plays the melodeon. She is tolerably faithful to the religion of the missionaries, and were she to reign as she may very soon, for the king is far gone with his vices-there might be a change for the better."

As we read the above, we thought, that was a pleasant incident and jotted down our caption. We could imagine the glad smile passing over the face of a good son finding his mother's name on such a pinnacle, and so As the Advocate is a far, far from home. great traveler, will not its Christian readers ask in its behalf that its influence, like a mother's love, may ever be potent for good, so that any son may be happy to see his mother's name upon its pages, though he should find it at the farthest verge of the green earth.

AS POLISHED STONES.

THE sun had gone down behind the western hills, when won by the clear blue of the sky and the snowy clouds that thinly veiled it here and there, we took our place by the window to watch the stars as one by one they should appear, for we knew that with unwonted lustre

they would sparkle in the crystalline air. They came but slowly forth, and our attention was soon divided between them and the people hurrying along the streets to their homes, some on foot, some in carriages. As they passed quickly by, mimic stars flashed for an instant on the pavement or sidewalk, struck from them by the hasting feet, and they set us to thinking on this wise.

These sparks we are watching are made in the day-time just as in the night, only like the stars, they are lost in the greater light of the sun, and only with the twilight do they become visible.

Mind strikes mind, and flashes of electric thought scintillate its emanations with a brilliancy the individuals had not shown before, did not themselves know they possessed. It is wonderful what an awakening there is at times, under such collision.

The diamond must be ground on the rough stone, and under the friction, reveals the unfailing light imprisoned in it. The dull metal, polished, becomes capable of reflecting everything. The most durable and valuable of all things, are improved by attrition and bear it long and well.

yet it is incomplete, and the stones from which the foundations shall be laid, and the shapely pillars cut; the goodly cedars to ceil it, and the fine gold to ornament it, are yet being and only wait until all is ready, to carry on wrought in stately homes or humble cottages,

the work to swift completion. More quietly, more perfectly than David's workmen wrought, is the Great Master-builder, by skillful strokes, of bereavement, of loss, of pain, of want, making ready those who shall yet be honored with a place in the glorious structure of which Christ Jesus, is the chief corner-stone.

Mary Lyon was polished by struggle with

poverty to attain intellectua. food, and her hunger and thirst, so hardly satisfied, led her to pity the many who, like herself, were debarred from high attainments in knowledge by want of means. So she thought and planned and prayed and labored until the Seminary which is so largely the result of her untiring exertions, was in successful operation. What enduring, what blessed work was hers; work which yearly sends forth many earnest, intelligent Christian workers into the world's wide field, adorned with that "meek and quiet spirit which is in the sight of God of great price," and as "corner-stones polished after the simili

tude of a palace."

Mrs. Hemans, the sweet poet

"Learned in suffering what she taught in song." Such a pure and beautiful life was hers, yet the keenest sorrow preyed upon it, and taught her to disregard all trifling griefs, to find no joy in flattery, and to delight only in giving pleasure to those she loved.

Fame was a

mockery to her woman's heart, and though cherished as few have been by brothers, sisters, children and friends, the one who should have shielded her from all the storms of life, stood aloof-dwelt apart in sunny Italy, and she sang her songs with a bleeding heart. Oh, what a dower is quick sensibility to pleasure and pain. We love thee, sweet songstress, and our hearts ache as we remember thy shadowed life. But 'tis all over now, and thy pure spirit is where no discord strikes the ear, no harshness pains thy affectionate heart; among the heavenly groves thou wanderest with angels for thy companions, for thy hope of heaven was well-founded, and with words like these thou didst go forth to meet thy Lord.

"Now aid, sustain me still! to Thee I come,

Make Thou my dwelling where Thy children are! And for the hope of that immortal home,

And for Thy Son, the bright and morning star, The sufferer and the victor-king of death,

I bless Thee with my glad song's dying breath!

I bless Thee, O my God!"

"Fanny Forester, " afterward the honored wife of Dr. Judson, missionary to Burmah, in early life was placed in a factory by her parents, that she might aid in furnishing daily bread for the household. Finding the occupation distasteful, and desiring to obtain a good education, she was soon engaged in more intellectual employment. But for years, hers was a thorny path. She pursued her studies and taught at the same time, and wishing to add to her limited income, she called her pen to her aid. She was destined to wait weary months, and learn how "hope deferred maketh the heart sick, " as most young writers must,-ere her patient efforts were rewarded. Then came the acknowledgment of her genius, and the quiet school-mistress became the popular and feted authoress. She was happy in her success, grateful for the welcome every where accorded her. Life grew sweet, the world a place of rest. Just then, a question that tested her piety, a question that must be pondered and answered, startled her from her dream of peace.

To her it meant: "Are you willing, for your dear Saviour's sake, to leave these pleasant scenes, to enter again a path of toil as a Will missionary's wife in a heathen land.

you take up and bear on the cross under which the devoted Ann Hazeltine and sweet Sarah Boardman fell?" She shrank from it, as one unworthy so to do, but when at last she consented, she faithfully fulfilled her vows. At last, a widow, she returned with her children to this country, to wait a little while, amid cares and pain, and then enter into the rest that remains for the people of God.

'Tis natural to murmur when disappointments chafe, to repine when our hopes are destroyed, to choose our own will rather than God's; but let us remember how the good have been chastened and purified, and take courage. The white-robed throng around the throne were they which came out of great tribulation.

O. E. H.

NEVER DESPAIR OF THE MOST HOPELESS.

THOSE who labor long to save the perishing, without witnessing satisfactory results, are sometimes tempted to feel that their strength has been spent for nought, and cease to make further effort. And yet, ever and anon, instances occur that rebuke such unbelief. The command is, "Be thou faithful unto death." We are permitted to cite the following, by way of encouragement to those laboring for the young, in mission, Sabbath and industrial schools.

The particulars were learned, through one of our faithful teachers, whose Christian sympathies had been awakened for this poor orphan. He had been in her day and Sabbath-school, in both of which his conduct was often exceedingly trying.

When first brought to her notice, he had been long a street-boy, exposed to the worst influences, addicted to ruinous habits; and no one had cared for his soul. Still, he was naturally affectionate and confiding, and the fact that he had become an object of interest with those whom he could respect, and who had no object but his good, in leading him to the place of instruction, seemed to touch a chord in his heart not before reached. At times, he listened to persuasions to a better life, with attention and some tenderness; then, again, former street-associates, and the power of habit, led him far astray, and, young as he was, he stood before his teachers the reeling inebriate, the unyielding offender.

Previous to the July riots, he entered the industrial school, one day, apparently bent Kindonly on mischief and disobedience.

ness or severity were alike futile, and there seemed no alternative but to dismiss him from the school. He was detained till all

had gone, for one more season of faithful admonition and earnest prayer. At first, he resisted, refusing utterly to kneel, and seemed desperate; but at length, yielded, became subdued, wept freely, asked to be forgiven and allowed to continue in school, making fair promises, &c. He was told he could be at the mission-school, on Sabbath, and would be remembered prayerfully, but his conduct had been such there, as to require, now, a season of probation.

After the riots, the teacher was pained to learn that this boy had been seen once with the rabble, and feared the worst. Soon, he came to her, and confessed that bad boys took him on with them; but, said he, "I did not kill or strike any one." "What kept you from doing so?" "The thought of that prayer, in the school-room; I couldn't forget that," he answered. He remained in the mission-school, giving indications that conscience had found a voice, till, suddenly, he was missed from his place, and next heard from in the army. His kind teacher followed him there, by frequent missives, and the following brief extracts are from sundry replies received:

Morehead City, Feb. 26th, 1864.

*

Dear Teacher,-I take my pen in hand to write a few lines to you. I am well, at present, and wish you the same. I have had some hard traveling. * I will try to find out the minister's name, and tell you in my next letter. I wish I had the picture of you, on a card; I would like to have it. Why did not Mr. A. write to me? I do read my Bible once a week, and that is on Sunday; I have no other time, as I have to go on guard. I have three years to serve in the army. Good-by. H. E. Co. C, 158th Regt., N. Y. S. Vols.

P. S. The name of the minister is Chaplain Bush.

"Did she tell you to come out and beg for pennies ?" "Yes." "Where did you say your "Up in the sky." "Isn't he in purgatory?" "Yes, that's the place." "How do you know?" "The priest said so." "How old are you "Nine months." "How old

is your brother?" "One month." Some one says, "You'd better follow up this case." Certainly, "Boys, where do you live?" "Twenty-eight St." "What number ?" "Don't know." Do children and fools always speak the truth?

Visit Mrs. S. as requested. Find her character good, she is nearly blind and has three children. We gave her such aid as she needed.

Our next visit was to a poor widow spoken of by a lady at the Home. The husband had met with a violent death and she really feared the consequences upon the wife.

The woman

We

was surprised at our calling, said very few knew of her troubles. She was trying to earn her bread by sewing on a machine. She had friends in the upper part of the city living in good style, but entirely regardless of her. urged her to make an effort to get the elder boy in some light business, where he would not be much exposed to temptation, and then asked if we could do anything for her. She said she was very scant of clothing, wanted a black dress badly, and would gladly accept of a dress or mourning bonnet. We made our appeal to Mrs. who had given us liberty at any time to call on her, and a nice black cashmere was placed in our hands for the poor woman, who was truly grateful. On our offering her a dollar, she refused it, saying she had for the time her share. When we called again last week, we found she had obtained a situation for her boy in a drug-store. We carried her a nice bonnet which had been given us for her; she wept for joy.

Went to Mrs. A.'s. She is a child of sorrow, her own health is feeble, her mother an invalid and her three children too young to aid her. Should her health fail, these little ones, who have no relatives, will be ours.

A colored woman applied at the Home for some clothing for her boy. We visited her and found her a worthy object of charity. She lost her husband, who was a grain measurer, during the riots, and has not heard from him since. When she spoke of those who had persecuted her race .during those terrible days, we were glad we could tell her of one Irish clergyman who said to the rioters. "Every negro you hurt in the street will shelter; if you tear the house down, I shall be in the nside. "

A sad story was told us by one of the Executive Committee, of a poor woman whose husband had been brought home to her a corpse, having been suddenly killed. The poor creature, then an invalid, and truly broken hearted, was soon after burned out of house and home, by a destructive fire which occurred on Seventh Avenue, last winter. Her child's features were prematurely old and haggard, bearing the evidences of its mother's consternation and woe. She was received into the Home Nursery, until such time as she should be better able to provide for herself and fatherless child, now but three weeks old.

Still another harrowing tale came to us. Our narrator had received a note from a wellknown lady in a city not far distant, commending to her sympathy and aid, a young woman, some nineteen years of age, handsome and prepossessing, but suffering under the most crushing sorrow, which might be best described in her own significant words, accompanied with a burst of grief-"I have a brute for a husband." She had married this man without her

Mrs. B. whom we first met through Miss A.'s report, and whom we have faithfully watched over since our first visit, has been kindly cared for and placed in St. Luke's Hospital. She is a truly pious woman, in communion, when in health, with Dr. A.'s. mission. She came to this country, thirteen years ago in full hope of leading a happy life. Her husband was clerk in a store, neither drank nor was quarrelsome, furnished his house comfortably. She was the mother of three children, when he told her he was about to accept a clerkship in Philadelphia. He purposed that she should remain here, and he would send her monthly supplies. For six months he faithfully fulfiled his promises. Another child was added to their family: she never heard from him after its birth. When we first saw her, we found her strength rapidly failing; consumption was making sad inroads. We spoke of the necessity of making some provision for her children's future welfare. The subject was very trying to her. A family of her acquaintance had adopted her oldest child, the second, owing to the mother's state of health, parents' consent, and learned only too soon, had become unmanageable, and been placed in her fatal mistake. In addition to her mental an Asylum. The little boy and girl her heart sorrows, she also suffered acutely from disease. clung to tenaciously, but at length she decided On the following Wednesday, we visited the it was best to give them up to the Home. Home," but found little of sufficient interest The parting was heart-rending. She desired to occupy our pages. One case, however, init entered on the record of her children's terested us too deeply to be passed over. It history, that she and all her relations resided was that of a young and prepossessing woman, within three miles of Frankford on the Main, dressed in mourning, who told us that she reGermany. Her father was bailiff to a baron, cently came hither from San Francisco, where her grandfather and great grandfather having she had resided with her husband until he had filled the same office, and two brothers in sucfailed in business, when he left her to try his cession since her father's death. She is a fortune in gold mining at Idaho. Here he Lutheran by profession, believing in God was attacked by putrid sore throat, which through our Lord Jesus, for the remission of all proved fatal almost immediately. His young her sins. We could not but be moved, to see widow left to provide for herself and one with what care she had preserved the Bible and child, sought the States, in the hope of finding hymn-book she had received in the Sunday- suitable employment. Reaching New York, School in her youth. How many painful she became alarmed at the exorbitant prices of thoughts must have risen in her mind as food and clothing, and after seeking work from memory reverted to her mother and sisters, day to day, with her child in her arms, she who opposed her coming to America, and to felt herself constrained to accept the argent whom she has revealed none of her troubles. offers of a lady who had seen her little girl and was anxious to adopt it as her own. She would probably have hesitated still longer to part with the child, but for her most trying circumstances. And now having given up the child, she set forth again in quest of something which would enable her to be prepared for the future. In her wanderings, she was directed to the "Home." Notwithstanding her dislike of public charity, she stated her sorrows to patient hearers, who counseled her where to seek a refuge.

HOUSE COMMITTEE'S REPORT FOR JUNE, An unexpected absence from home during the first week of June, prevents a formal commencement of our report, as our work, during that space of time, fell upon hands too much occupied with other details of business, to keep any record of passing events. Among the items of interest occurring during this week, was the reception of a dear little girl, two years of age, whose grandmother committed her to our Society. The mother of this little one was but a child herself, being only fourteen years of age when the babe was born. She had subsequently deserted it, leaving the grandmother with a burden which she was unable to bear. This little blossom was so sweetly affectionate and winning in all her ways, that she immediately became the pet and plaything of our Home Nursery.

On Friday of the same week, our Committee spent a very quiet day; one woman with a young babe found a good situation with a kind family in the country, who did not object to her bringing her infant with her.

On Wednesday, the 15th, we were led to wish most earnestly that we might find more families like the one last mentioned, who would not refuse to take a worthy and useful