as motherless, or homeless and exposed little ones. I soon learned of several-among them a bright boy of about twelve years-an orphan, whose only near relative-a sister, sixteen years of age, is an inmate of a house of ill repute, and therefore unfit to be his guardian. I am not without hope that the boy will be rescued.

Another case-a girl, fourteen years of age, represented as an orphan, and exposed to temptation, presented itself. In my search for her, I met with an interesting family I cannot forbear to mention that of one of our soldiers. The mother, a young woman, with three small children, was diligently exerting herself to maintain her family in independence, by her needle, her husband not having received his pay in several months. She was making shirts of a very heavy quality of union flannel, for which she is paid seven cents per shirt. She sewed, as we talked over her history of trials and anxieties since her husband "left for the war;" of the sickness and death of two dear children in that time; but, with tears and smiles blended, rejoiced, inasmuch as she believed the death of these children has been the instrumentality, in the hand of the Lord, in the conversion of her husband. In expressing her feelings in reference to the death of her baby, she could see that God had removed the idol of her heart, that no one should occupy His place there. It was refreshing to meet with this toiling, patient wife and mother, committing all her care to the Saviour as He who careth for her. Her children attend one of the Home Industrial Schools.

I continued my search for the girl fourteen years of age, and found her. She belongs to a large and unfortunate class of girls, who, having lost a mother, become the sole housekeeper for a father, and small brothers and sisters, and consequently have little or no opportunity of attending school. I endeavored to arrange her work for her so that she might attend "Home School No. 3," in the afternoon. She promised to do so. Wherever I go I find labor to be done constantly and in every direction; and everywhere within the influence of the "Home Industrial Schools," I find beneficial results. Yours, very sincerely,

left her a small sum for the present. Called again and found her out looking for sewing. The children who were at home said their father was very kind to their mother, and that soldiers told mother he fought bravely. We promised to call again.

Application for aid having been made by the wife of a returned soldier, we visited the family and found the father in a terible condition from rheumatism contracted in the bayous of Louisiana; he is obliged to walk on crutches His wife was a granddaughter of Major V., whose residence Washington Irving purchased and died in. They have several children, one of them an idiot from St. Vitus' dance. Gave the man two dollars and a pair of pantaloons. He belonged to the Metropolitan regiment.

Application was made in behalf of a family from Canada, ten in number, who had been very unfortunate. Visited and heard their sad story of loss by fire and one of the family had broken his leg. The aged father and mother came to New York with their daughter and through her misfortune became impoverished. We gave them something for present need, and reported their case to the Committee who voted additional aid for which the recipients thanked God on bended knees.

Mrs. N. was visited; wanted baby-linen, which we promised to furnish her, if it was to be had in the Dorcas-room, but the store of articles there is very low.

Were requested by a gentleman, at whose office down town, she is very troublesome, to visit Mrs. T., who said she lived at 198 First Av. After visiting sixteen families in the front and rear houses and finding no one answering to that name, came to the conclusion that she was an impostor, and so reported.

A lady left a number, hoping that a poor woman with seven children might be aided. Visited and found her a happy-hearted woman. In talking over her troubles, she said God had been good to her, that she had strength to combat with her trials. Her husband was wild, but fighting with him would not better the case. He was gone now to the coal mines, would come back when he pleased was not soldier enough to go to the war. We were sorry to tell her we had neither bedding nor clothing. Took her out and gave her some bread, potatoes, &c.

:

Found a Mrs. B. surrounded with a family of children. Fearing lest she drank, we inquired among her neighbors if it was so; they thought not. We fear she uses opium; she denied it, but there was a dreaminess about her we did not like. For her poor children's sakes we provided for their present necessities.

Another of the widows, to whose necessities we have ministered, has departed this life, rejoicing in the hope and trust of a home with Jesus. Her daughter will suffer much from her removal, being a poor infirm creature.

The returned soldier mentioned by Mrs. P. for whom we sought so long without avail, we found at last, and were glad to have it in our

power to do something for him. He was a great sufferer, wounded severely, and dying with consumption. We could scarcely gain his attention to speak of his immortal part so intent were his thoughts on the state of the country. His voice was so weak he could barely whisper. We begged him to listen while we talked to him of something better than battles. When we called at his home the third time, he was dead. When dying, after taking leave of his family, he turned over so that he could see a flag floating from a window near by, and his last words were, "God bless the flag!"

Were asked to visit Mrs. M. Found that poverty and ill-health had so unsettled her mind that she had to be placed in a lunatic asylum. Visited an English woman in St. whose husband died last summer, leaving her destitute, and with five children to maintain. We suggested to her that it would be best for the children to place them in some institution where they would be tenderly as well as carefully brought up to make useful members of society, but she utterly repelled the idea, saying no child of hers should be brought up with the Irish. She called them out of the street to see us, and we could not refrain from telling her the very thing that gave her so much annoyance was taking place daily. We then took higher ground, that she was doubly accountable for their well-being now that she was left sole care-taker. She seemed a little more tender, and promised to think over our counsels.

Visited a family of refugees from Richmond. The husband, being conscripted, resolved he would never raise an arm against the glorious old flag, and determined on fleeing with his family. They left house, furniture everything, not daring to sell an article, lest their plans should be suspected and thwarted. They had a little silver in store which helped the wife in a stage to Washington. The man forcing his way to a dell some eleven miles from Richmond, made a fire and slept over night. Next day a negro gave him a ride for some distance. For forty dollars he was put across the Rappahannock, for fifty across the Potomac. His joy on seeing our flag, language could never describe. At Baltimore he unfortunately broke his ancle, and his high hopes were marred, his little property soon spent. His wife is a tailoress, thankful for work. A few articles have been given them for housekeeping: Mrs. M. gave them a pair of blankets, another friend a quilt, Mrs. H. clothing. Last, but not least, the committee heard our report with acecptance, and gave them a small amount.

Went to David's Island to look after the welfare of awounded soldier, but when we arrived there we found that he had expired a few hours previous. But there were other wounded, suffering soldiers there, to whom we strove to speak words of cheer and sympathy. One whose limb had been amputated above the knee was anxiously awaiting the arrival of his mother,

who, he said, was a noble Vermont woman, and a truly pious one. We doubt if the young man ever sees the green mountains again. Is it to be wondered at that the cry is, "How long, O Lord, how long shall desolation overspread the land.” It was with difficulty we bade good-by to those who had stood between our homes and a ruthless foe, for unbidden emotions choked our utterance.

For the Advocate and Guardian.
MY TURN TO PREACH.

I was once connected with a poor women's meeting, in which it was the custom for each lady who attended, to take her turn in addressing the audience. Being rather younger than most of the ladies and altogether unaccustomed to delivering such exhortations, I naturally shrank from what was before me; but there was no release, my turn had come, the evening was fast approaching, and I must be prepared. I took the passage, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." I thought it all over by myself, and when I went to the Saviour for assistance, He refreshed me and enabled me to present the truth acceptably to the poor creatures who had gathered around me.

Was it not a shame that I should shrink from such a task, and that I should fear to speak to a fellow-woman of the things which belong to the soul? And is it not a singular fact, that most Christians hesitate to speak of those things in which they profess to take most delight? They certainly do ; and shrink with the timidity of children from this duty which we owe to our brethren. I wish it were not so, and that we could see more of the spirit which I have lately met in one of the writers for this paper. She is a noble, whole-souled woman, whose piety is in her life and on her tongue, and is restrained by no fear of worldly censure, no dread of imputed vanity, self-righteousness, or egotism. She pursues the even tenor of her way, and lets her light so shine before men, that they "may see her good works and glorify her Father which is in heaven." In a word, it seems always her "turn to preach."

Another eminent example of this kind is the late Dr. Cutler, of Brooklyn, L. I. Not only in his own church and among his own people was his heavenly influence felt, but it extended to all with whom he came in contact. The whole world was his field, every church was his fold, and to the Saviour did he look as the one great Shepherd, unto whom all should be drawn; and his loving voice was ready to aid wherever there was vice to check or virtue to encourage. He has gone to his rest and reward. Let us imitate his example. This holy zeal is confined to no particular sect or creed, but may glow in the heart and life of every faithful, earnest, prayerful Christian, and the more we feel our religion, the more lively will be our interest in those about us, the more ready

shall we be to declare what God hath done for our souls, and the more likely to place our light upon a candlestick where it may giv light unto all who are in the house.

E.

For the Advocate and Guardian. MONTHLY CONCERT.

As there is sometimes a dearth of matters of real interest for the Monthly Concert of prayer for Foreign Missions, the following painful stories are gathered from a recent letter of a missionary to Africa. Details of facts have far more effect upon us than mere general statements or moral reflections. "

There are those who question the value and expediency of missions, and would leave the heathen to their "beautiful simplicity and innocence." To such we recommend the statements here made, for consideration; and, by way of contrast, we may give at another time some particulars of the lives and works of Christian Zulus.

The Scripture of Truth saith, “The dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty."

ZULUS.

If you were to come into our Sunday-school any Sunday afternoon, you would see among the infant scholars two little girls about six years of age, who would attract your attention by their bright faces and beautiful eyes. They

are the children of one of the best and richest men at the station, and his history is most wonderful and interesting.

During the reign of Dingaan, the great and cruel chief of the Zulus, the natives were slaughtered, far and wide, at his will. So cruel was he, that every year having sent through the whole country and collected all the young girls, he selected a certain number of the prettiest for his wives. Having brought them to his kraals, he gave orders to his chief men, and they sent out and killed all those he had chosen the year before. So, year by year, great numbers of young Zulu girls perished.

The father of Kalo and grandfather of these two little girls in our infant school, was one of Dingaan's head men. But one day suddenly he was charged with witchcraft and dragged away to be killed. His wife, fearing or rather knowing her fate would also be death, fled in the night from her kraal, with her baby-girl on her back and her little boy Kalo by her side. She traveled far, across plains and rivers, but having gone during two days with out food, was ready to lie down and die. Then she remembered having heard there was a missionary six miles off, who was a man of mercy." Leaving her little boy in the bush, as he was too weak to travel further, she crept slowly on and finally reached the station. Going to Mr. G., she said, "I am starved and dying, but I give myself and my children to you to do as you please with us. They say you are merciful." Having taken food, she

66

hastened back to the bush and found her boy. The three were then taken under the care of the missionary and are now all Christians.

The old mother totters to church on Sunday, bringing with her the baby of her daughter, who is married to a young man, and they live in a pretty little house up on the hill. Kalo lives across the river, and when I went over there the other day, I was struck with the exceeding neatness of everything and the air of prosperity on every side. He is zealous in his work for others and gives abundantly of the money which he says God has given him. And so to each of these clothed and Christianized natives the missionary has proved "a man of mercy," and the gospel of Jesus Christ a message of salvation, temporal as well as eternal.

SUPERSTITIONS.

Quite an important part of the Zulu community is the body of witch-doctors and raindoctors, who are generally men, though occasionally a woman is considered "divinely called." They are very shrewd and sharp, and wonderful are the stories told of them, and of the ways in which they secure the faith of this people. They discover those who are bewitched and the king causes them to be put to death. They detect those who steal and those who kill; they also bring rain and cure diseases by their medicines, their fires and incantations. At least all these things they claim to do, and the means by which one of them here recently detected a thief, shows no little shrewdness and ingenuity. The "doctor" collected all the tribe and having emptied a hut, told the people it was a bewitched place, and the chicken which he placed in it would be the spirit of their fathers. Having taken a fowl he rubbed it all over with grease and then smeared it with red clay. One by one the men were ordered to go into the hut and place their hands upon the fowl when it would speak and accuse the man who stole, of being the thief. Each went in and being conscious of his innocence did not fear to handle the chicken with confidence. The real thief, however, fearing to touch it, so superstitious was he, did not put his hands on the fowl. When all had been into the hut, the doctor pretended all were innocent, and then suddenly called upon them to raise their hands and cry to the spirits. Of course all their hands, save those of the thief had some remains of the red clay from off the fowl; and when the doctor spied his clean hands he rushed upon him, and the poor, frightened fellow confessed his guilt; while all the people more than ever believed in the inspiration of the wondrous doctor.

Though some few of them have become Christians, these doctors, as a class, are hard and wicked, and do more harm than can be imagined. One of them, not long since destroyed a great tribe of people. The chief had a plan of attacking some kraals near by, and his people not entering into it, he applied to the doctor for the means to make them all unite zealously in the work of plunder and destruc

tion. The doctor told them, without revealing his object, that the spirits ordered them to slay all their cattle and plant no grain that year. He told them also that the spirits said they would raise all their cattle to life again. The people doubted him somewhat, so in order to assure their faith, he determined to practice a deception upon them. His object in having them destroy their cattle and their fields was to make them hungry and desperate, and then they would be ready to join the king in his attack and work of devastation on the enemy.

On a certain day he called them all to assemble at a large pond of water and reeds. Taking the heads and horns of many cattle, he placed them on men's shoulders among the reeds. He then found a girl who was a ventriloquist, and having hidden her, he muttered and burned incense, and then called out for the spirits to speak. The girl called out, "I am the mighty spirits of the dead, I rest not, and at my bidding the cattle that are dead shall rise again." Many more things she said while the doctor muttered and moaned and performed rites too numerous to mention, and at last the voice of the spirits cried, "Come forth,"

and out rose from the water and the reeds the heads and horns of the cattle, and moved in various directions.

The superstitious people were at once convinced; they slew their oxen and cows by thousands, and when the time was past, they were without food. The witch-doctor was among the first to perish, for the people, instead of being desperate, were too weak to move, and so they died miserably. A few staggered off, hoping to reach a neighboring tribe and obtain food, so the road was strewn with the bodies of the dead as they fell by the way. A few, the chief among them, reached a place, and were fed and cared for, but the whole tribe of the Amaxosa perished from the face of the earth.

Some of the natives around, to whom the gospel had been preached, cry out that God sent this as a judgment upon the tribe, because they had driven out and even killed missionaries who had been sent to them, and had clung

to their wickedness and heathenism with de

termination, until they perished and fell by the way. Truly, God "broke them in pieces

like a potter's vessel."

Children's Department.

For the Advocate and Guardian. BEWARE OF SCARS OF DISOBEDIENCE. "I HAVE a scar on my arm," remarked a lady in a sewing-circle, "the mark of disobedience." When a little girl she had climbed a cherry-tree, contrary to the wishes of her mother, and had fallen from it and been caught on the picket of a fence. There she had hung till some one saw her and took

her off. Her father and mother have long since died. The playmates of her childhood have passed the meridian of life, but this "mark of disobedience" remains to remind her of her fault, and will remain so long as life continues. The pleasure of gathering the cherries lasted but a few moments; the pain of disobedience has not all gone yet.

All the scars left by disobedience are not external. There are those no human eye can see, as real as this scar upon the arm. The inner eye perceives them and they remind the scarred one of past sins, and fill the heart with shame and vain regret. Every sin leaves its mark; every sin impairs the beauty of the soul. Beware of doing that which shall leave the mark of disobedience, which shall cause grief and pain so long as life endures.

COBWEB SALOON.

"WILL you walk into my parlor ?" Said the spider to the fly; ""Tis the prettiest little parlor That ever you did spy."

A. H.

I SUPPOSE the children have all sung this little song many a time, and wondered at the fly that was so stupid as not to see through the deceitful invitation of the spider, before it was caught in the net. But there are a great many people more stupid than was that fly. And that spider was more cunning than some people are. The spider called his trap of ruin a parlor, but it was in reality only a "Cobweb saloon."

alive. The bite of the spider is said to be very poisonons, causing tormenting pain, and certain death. Look at the drunkard; how bloated is his face! how blood-shot are his eyes and how he raves when that terrible disease, delirium tremens, comes upon him; he imagines that scorpions sting him-snakes dart their tongues at him, and wind their coils about him. Ah, he is in the web of the spider, and she is stinging him to death.

Remember, children, when you see these drinking-saloons, that they are cobweb saloons; boy-catchers-man-catchers, from which there is no escape.

PENCIL.

For the Advocate and Guardian.

HOW MAGGIE GETS A LIVING.

SHE is a poor little girl only seven or eight years old, and yet, day by day, she trudges quite a mile to the ferry, and crossing alone to the larger city beyond, she goes to a work-room where there are many sewing women, and watches to pick up scissors, and thread, and bits of the work that the busy hands drop, that it would hinder them to hunt for. For this service she receives a few pennies which she carries home to mother at even

ing, to help buy bread for hungry mouths. This is a fact, and it ought to make many a strong man and strong woman blush for shame, as they stand idling away the hours for which their Lord will call them to a strict

account.

The disposition to work will surely be followed by the effort to find employment, You know what a saloon is? Children in and the effort is seldom unrewarded. There cities and villages know, and I am afraid is enough even for little hands to do in this some of the larger ones are sometimes tempt-work-day world. Let us see to it that we ed to go into them.

are not among the idlers.

FAN FAN.

For the Advocate and Guardian.

I was not long since passing along a street in one of our western cities, and read in large glowing letters, the sign, "COBWEB SALOON." "Cobweb Saloon," I repeated to myself, "that is a very singular name for a saloon." I kept thinking, "Cobweb Saloon! what can it mean?" I knew that "Saloon " was often but a soft name posted over the doors of drinking rooms, while behind their blinded doors or red curtains, were sold the fiery drinks that make demons of men-ay, of boys and women, too; that they often proved the mere pass-ways to gambling and other and worse vices, leading to infamy and almighty strength, and to cheer us, under it

complete ruin.

I thought of all these and then I said, "The name is just as it should be-it tells the whole story." Look at a fly in a spider's web, and then tell me if it is not a pretty good representation of a man fairly caught in one of these saloons. His legs have become so entangled in the cobwebs that he cannot walk; his brains all so covered over with the cobwebs that he cannot think straight; his tongue is so wound around with them that he cannot talk plainly. Yet he has

"Gone down the winding stair,"

he is in the "parlor" of the spider, and unless some friendly hand tears off the webs and takes him away, he will never come out

HOW SHALL WE BEAR TROUBLE? THIS depends very much upon how we come by it. Some troubles the Lord sends upon us, and some we bring upon ourselves. Now the first is far easier to bear than the last, for two reasons. First we are sure that it will never exceed our strength, for God has promised that He will never give us trials above that we are able to bear; and in the second place, he has promised to help us, to endure by His own

with the consolations of His grace. Surely then, troubles which we know are but the healthful discipline of a Father's loving hand, and which He so kindly alleviates, are easily borne. We can almost see how the humble, affectionate, docile child of God, who longs to grow in grace and into the image of Jesus, and who fully believes that his trials are wisely appointed to bring about such a result, may "count it all joy "when he falls into divers temptations-how he may even come to" glory in tribulation," to welcome suffering, and to feel honored by the cross, how ever shameful and heavy it may seem in the eye of men. He has only to lie still in the hand of God, as clay in the hand of the potter, and let the Divine Molder do His whole holy will, and perfect that which concerneth him. Though the process be rough and disagreeable in the extreme-though

in the turning upon the wheel, in the pressing and cutting, and trimining, the sensitive earthly nature be constrained to cry out with pain and terror, the spirit is quiet, assured of the happy ending, when it shall stand in its place a chosen vessel to bear the name of the All-perfect workman before the admiring eyes of men and of angels.

These troubles are of many kinds. Some come to us directly from the hand of Divine Providence, but many more through the intervention of second causes-through human mediums. Some sweep by with the rush of the tornado, or shake and shatter our earthly hopes with an earthquake shock, and others are like the keen raw blast of an easterly wind, or the tormenting flutter and venom of the summer insect. But none come that are not known and permitted of our Heavenly Father; and all are equally designed to work together for our good.

Whatever we meet with, therefore, while we are walking in the plain path of duty, and can truly feel that we have conscientiously sought, and are receiving the Divine guidance, we may be sure comes either directly or indirectly from our Father's hand, and will not destroy or harm us. We have only to be still before God and let him do what seemeth to Him good; bear patiently all that he inflicts, with the eye of faith and hope ever open to the brightening prospect beyond; and comfort ourselves continually with the sweet device engraven on the everlasting foundations, "The Lord knoweth them that are His."

But alas, alas, if we bring our trouble upon ourselves; if it comes to us as the inevitable consequence of pride, obstinacy, selfishness and disobedience, where is our refuge? What hope is left us? Can we hide from the breaking storm in His pavilion from whose commandments we have wilfully departed, and whose warnings and entreaties we have alike disregarded? Can we say, "The Lord is on my side," when we are conscious that we have gone astray from Him, and refused to walk in the paths of His appointment? Shall we cast our care and sorrow upon Him whose heart of love we have consciously pierced, and whose mild accents of affection we have spurned? No-all this is denied us, and without refuge, without help, we stand all exposed to the pitiless beatings of the cruel tempest.

Must we perish thus? No, thanks be to God, there is yet one door by which we may

enter into the stronghold and be saved. It is the door of repentance. We have sinned, and our sin has found us out, and is pursuing us with the relentless rigor of law and justice but yet there is hope. We may repent, and at once the heart of God is thrown wide open. Our punishment is heavy, but like the conscience-stricken child, we must bow to the hand that smites us, saying, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and in Thy sight and am no more worthy to be called thy son; make me as one of thy hired servants." "It is the Lord, let Him do what seemeth Him good." Blessed be God! in a godly sorrow we have hope.

Oh, the transmuting power of repentance! It changes anger into mercy, and punishment into a healing medicine. Let the suffering soul, suffering from its own misdeeds, but place itself in the attitude of humble penitence before God, and at once the dark clouds of a just and holy indignation are chased away before the tender rays of Divine compassion. I forgive,

says the Father, but though my laws must avenge themselves, and the punishment cannot entirely be averted, I will mingle with it the healing and sanctifying element of pardoning mercy, which restores the wounded soul, and diffuses peace, and even a chastened joy, over the spirit.

Let our trouble then, be as the candle of the Lord, with which to search the innermost heart. Let us know whence it comes, and wherefore, and set ourselves to receive the lessons it would convey. Let us sit at the feet of the great Teacher, that we may learn how to bear it. It never comes in vain. If endured rightly it will never destroy us. There is a medicinal quality about trouble, and a recuperating, saving influence which the hand of our Heavenly Father ever imparts to it, which conveys life, and health, and vigor, and eternal salvation to the soul. Whether, then, it comes as a gift or a necessity, as the expression of a Father's love or displeasure, let us submit, accept and profit. "Hear ye the rod, and Him that hath appointed it."

COMFORT.

Advocate and Guardian.

NEW YORK, DEC. 1, 1864.

Will our friends, in sending on renewals of Clubs always state in whose name they were taken, during 1864. The omission to do so, causes much confusion on our books. See Important Notice, on page 278, concerning the advance in club prices.

INCENTIVES TO GRATITUDE.

EMOTIONS of gratitude. Who that loves his country and her great Preserver, has not felt them thrilling the heart, as he has dwelt upon the many incentives to a national

Thanksgiving? Who has not felt that new motives for gratitude were marking his own. pathway and looming up in the future? pathway and looming up in the future? The fruits of the earth have been garnered, food for man and beast has been graciously and abundantly provided, by the hand of Infinite Love. The drouth of mid-summer was not extended into autumn. Calamities,

apparently foreshadowed, were averted. No sweeping pestilence has spread over our cities. The lawless and disobedient have been restrained from instigating a reign of been restrained from instigating a reign of terror among peace-loving and law-abiding citizens. The torch of the incendiary has not fired our dwellings, and while a fearful civil war has been in our borders, touching us

most deeply in the sufferings of multitudes it has been restricted to diminished limits, and we may hope is rapidly nearing its close. With all its exactions, abroad and at home, instead of sealing up the channels of benevolence, it has but opened them more widely.

Surely the review of the year is full of incentives to gratitude. Its dark days-and they have not been few-have reflected more clearly the rays of light upon the morrows

brighter than the yesterdays. There have been seasons when all hearts were oppressed. Uncertainty and suspense and the rumbling of the moral earthquake, have hung their black shadows athwart the moral heavens.

But in His own good time our Father has spread over them all, the bow of promise. A little patient waiting, and lo, the darkness was almost past. Weeping hath endured for a night, but joy came in the morning. Amid the strife and, turmoil and combined opposition to truth and right, the march of Freedom has been onward. On the banner of one noble state is now inscribed for the first time, "Free Maryland," and there is every reason to hope, that ere the leaves fall in 1865, Missouri, Louisiana and Tennessee, will like their sister state, by their own voluntary choice, break every yoke, and say to the oppressed, "Go Free !"

A few weeks since and the problem remained unsolved whether at this date we should still have a country, loyal and worthy in its purposes, with its civil, religious and benevolent institutions preserved inviolate. But as time rolled on, a moment came when doubt ceased, and in the still hours "past midnight," suddenly the solemn silence of the great metropolis was broken by the voice of an assembled host, ringing out the majestic strains of Old Hundred in the words,

"Praise God from whom all blessings flow,
Praise Him all creatures here below,"

followed by a few moments of silent prayer, noted we doubt not by the Recording Angel, as widely in contrast with the conduct of the nine of whom it was once said, "There hath not returned to give glory to God, save this stranger."

With the Christian philanthropist, men and measures have been of little moment compared with the assurance that we are truly a loyal people, still adhering to the great principles that ruled the exiles of the May flower, loyalty the rule, disloyalty the excep tion. In the demonstration of this fact dur

ing the solemn crisis of November 8th, are found incentives to gratitude of no common moment. Should it be seen in coming time, that one of the issues of that crisis was the more speedy opening of the prison doors to all that are bound, the planting of the school in place of the slave-pen all through the

sunny region,

"Where every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile."

the more speedy introduction of a higher civilization, a higher type of morals and a religion leading its adherents to obey more implicitly the precept, "As ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to

them," incentives to gratitude may multiply with the returning anniversaries of that crisis till the full dawn of the coming day, when "all shall know the Lord from the least unto the greatest."

"A PRESENT HELP."

WE have the assurance that God is a

present help in every time of trouble; and ever and anon examples come before us, showing that this gracious declaration is abundantly verified. Smitten households are all abroad, with whose griefs a stranger intermeddleth not. To know how repeated strokes are borne, one must have access to domestic altars, and hold fraternal communings with stricken hearts. Yet even when these opportunities are offered how often are we reminded that

"In the shadow of a great affliction,

The soul sits dumb."

These thoughts are suggested by a letter. from a bereaved friend, just laid upon our table, and we felt so impressed while reading its contents, that the divine support manifestly given to the writer, would be an encouragement to many of our dear Home friends passing through similar trials, that we venture-without permission to give the follow. ing extracts. May those who have drank of the same bitter cup, be comforted with like precious faith.

November 14, 1864.

How very kind it was of you to write me such a sweet, consoling letter. The sympathy of friends is precious, and to know they bear us to a Throne of grace in the arms of faith and prayer is a gratifying reflection; and we know it is not in vain—we have been, and are supported. The Hand that smote has sustained, we are cast down, but not destroyed. And though the clouds have been very dark, and the storm beat heavy upon us, there was a silver edging; a ray of light and hope, that reached from the great white Throne, even to us-for our three noble sons died Christians.

After F. was wounded he lay several hours before he could be taken off the field, and when at length his men bore him away it was through a shower of bullets. It was soon seen he must die. He desired to have his revolver taken off and given to his brothers-neither of them had arrived then-his epaulettes to be sent to his wife. He said he knew where he was going, and should be better off. Life ebbed fast away, he named us-his parents-his wife and child, but was too weak to be understood. Soon the weary wheels of life stood still, and his precious form was laid to rest in Virginia soil. E. lies in Maryland. H. in Cypress Hills Cemetery, Brooklyn. How scattered in death; but I try never to think

of them as dead and in the grave, but as alive, in Heaven

"Far from a world of grief and sin,

With God eternally shut in."

No more fighting, no more sorrow, no more pain. Surely it would be selfish to wish them back. They could not desire it, dearly as they loved those left behind, they love Jesus better, and with Him they will abide forever.

When the order came to go forward, F. was leading a prayer-meeting with his men, and had just given out the hymn beginning

"A charge to keep I have. A God to glorify,

A never-dying soul to save, And fit it for the sky."

When the fatal charge was made, he led on his men, singing "The Battle Cry of Freedom."

Had the Chicago platform prevailed, I should have considered my boys murdered, and every other noble man, that has fallen in the dreadful struggle. But now, I consider it part of the great price paid, in the cause of justice, truth and freedom. And though our sorrow is deep, and our bereavement great, we will strive to bear, as cheerfully as we can, assisted by Divine grace, our share. We may go to them, if they cannot come to us, and I trust our steps will be quickened heavenward.

There is my home, my portion fair, My treasure and my heart are there." And there I hope some day to join them. You will be pleased to present my grateful acknowledgments to the ladies of the Board

for their kind remembrances of me.

Tell them

I am still their fellow-laborer, and only grieve I cannot be a more efficient one. But your cause is mine, and I hope to live and die a worker for the Home. How it would cheer my heart to be one among the multitude on Thanksgiving Day. I shall be with you in spirit.

Our F. is a good, sensible, industrious young woman, and I feel amply repaid for all my care and anxiety respecting her. I am thankful I ever tried to save one homeless child from destruction. With earnest prayers for your welfare, believe me to remain, yours, sincerely, M. w.

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DISCOURAGING TIMES.

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"THESE are indeed discouraging times," we heard a lady say, and a sigh escaped her lips as though she were indeed in circumstances of great trial. We looked at her plump face and form, her fair, smooth brow, her elegant attire, and thought if such as you, call these discouraging times, what shall they say who, with all the efforts they can put forth, cannot keep hunger and cold away from their humble homes; whose hearts must ache because their children plead for the bread they cannot give them and the warm clothing they have not to wrap around the tender forms of their little ones, whose thin, care-worn faces reveal the struggles they have with care and want whose scanty and well-patched garments tell of close

economy and the conflict between taste and need.

O, mothers, wives, daughters, who are not satisfied with the comforts of life, but are sighing for luxuries, go visit some tenement-house not far from your own home. See a family of five or six members living in one or two scantily furnished rooms; hear the widowed mother tell of her need of work and the difficulty she finds in earning even bread enough for her children. Hear her say she would like to go to church if she had suitable clothing. See her little ones huddling together around the stove in vain efforts to keep warm. See not only one such family but dozens.

Then return to your large, well-furnished, well-warmed rooms, throw off your furs and warm cloak, draw up your easy chair before the glowing grate, and think of the kind, strong protector God has given you: listen to the merry voices of the happy-hearted, amply-fed and clothed children beneath the roof that shelters you: think of the church to which you love to go on the hallowed Sabbath day, and you will realize as never before that though you have not every thing that heart could wish, you have enough for which devoutly to thank God and to make you ashamed of one murmuring thought at the gifts withheld from you. More than likely, too, you will begin to think of some half-worn garments, your own or your children's, which you have laid aside for better, newer ones, which cast-off garments would add much to the comfort of those you have just left in the dreary tenement-house, and you will in some way convey them to the needy

ones.

Then, like good old Job, you can thenceforth say, "When the ear heard me, then it blessed me; and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me: because I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready, to perish came upon me: and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy."

Times will cease to look discouraging: new fountains of joy and comfort will open in your heart as you more and more grow into the likeness of Him who "for our sakes became poor, that we through His poverty might be rich," and came แ not to be ministered unto but to minister."

C.

THE BEST WAY TO CARE FOR THE CHILDREN.

WE find in the Times of November 16th, an article of some length, relative to the care of homeless children, contrasting the measures adopted in our own and foreign countries. We quote as follows:

POOR RELIEF IN PARIS AND IN NEW YORK. At the last meeting of the Social Science Congress, at York, England, Mr. Blanchard Jerrold presented a paper containing observations on some of the plans