Throughout the universe of space
To nothing am I long allied,
For flight of time and change of place
My strongest, dearest bonds divide.

Parents I had, but where are they?
Friends whom I knew, I know no more,
Companions once that cheer'd my way
Have dropt behind, or gone before.

Now I am one amidst the crowd

Of life and action, hurrying round; Now left alone-for like a cloud

They came, they went, and are not found.

E'en from myself sometimes I part,
Unconscious sleep is nightly death;

Yet surely by my bed thou art,

To prompt my pulse, inspire my breath.

Of all that I have done or said

How little can I now recall! Forgotten things to me are dead;

With thee they live, thou knowest them all.

Thou hast been with me from the womb,
Witness to every conflict here;
Nor wilt thou leave me at the tomb :
Before thy bar 1 must appear.

The moment comes, the only one
Of all my time, to be foretold;

Though when, and where, and how, can none
Of all the race of man unfold.

That moment comes, when strength must fail, When health, and hope, and comfort flown, I must go down into the vale,

And shade of death, with thee alone.

Alone with thee;-in that dread strife,
Uphold me through mine agony,
And gently be this dying life
Exchanged for immortality.

Be mine eternal portion this,

Since Thou wert always here with me,
That I may view thy face in bliss,

And be for evermore with Thee.-Montgomery.

THE AFFECTIONS.

THE cultivation of the affections comes next to the development of the bodily senses; or rather they may be said to begin together, so early does the infant heart receive impressions.

Kindness towards animals is of great importance. Children should be encouraged in pitying their distress; and if guilty of any violent treatment towards them, they should see that it gives offence, and is not approved of. But before showing any disapprobation, a very young child should be made to know when he really does hurt an animal; for young children are often cruel from the mere thoughtlessness of frolic; they strike an animal as they would strike a log of wood, without knowing that they occasion pain.

In the

I once saw a mother laugh very heartily at the distressed face of a kitten, which a child of two years old was pulling backwards by the tail. At last the kitten, in self-defence, turned and scratched the boy. He screamed, and his mother ran to him, kissed the wound, and beat the poor kitten, saying all the time, "Naughty kitten, to scratch John! I'll beat her for scratching John! There, ugly puss!" This little incident, trifling as it seems, had no doubt important effects upon the character of the child; especially as the mother who would do such a thing once, would be likely to do it habitually. first place, the child was encouraged in cruelty, by seeing that it gave his mother amusement. Had she explained to him that he was hurting the kitten, and expressed her pity by saying, "Oh, don't hurt kitten; she is a good little puss, and she loves Jolin," what a different impression would have been made on his infant heart! In the next place, the kitten was struck for defending herself; this was injustice to the injured animal, and a lesson of tyranny to the boy. In the third place, striking the kitten because she had scratched him, was teaching

him retaliation. For that reason, a chair or table, against which a child may have accidentally hurt himself, should never be struck, or treated in an angry manner. A grown up person knows, to be sure, that an inanimate object is not capable of feeling pain, but the infant does not know it; the impression made upon him is, that it is right to injure when we are injured.

A spirit of revenge is one of those evil passions to which our nature is most prone, and with respect to which we should most anxiously guard against the influence of habit and of example. The mind of a child is not like that of a grown person, too full and too busy to observe every thing; it is a vessel always ready to receive, and always receiving.

Every look, every movement, every expression, does something towards forming the character of the little heir to immortal life.

Does a mother regard it as too much trouble thus to keep a watch over herself? Surely the indulgence of evil is no privilege; the yoke of goodness is far lighter and easier to bear than the bondage of evil. Is not the restraint which the mother imposes upon herself good for the child, and blessed, doubly blessed, to her own soul?

The rule, then, for developing good affections in a very young child is, that he never be allowed to see or feel the influence of bad passions, even in the most trifling things; and in order to effect this, those who have the management of children should endeavour to drive evil passions out of their own hearts. Nothing can be real that has not its home within us. The only sure way, as well as the easiest, to appear good, is to be good.Altered from Mrs. Child.

ON GAIETY.

WHOM call we gay? That honour has been long
The boast of mere pretenders to the name.

The innocent are gay-the lark is gay,

That dries his feathers, saturate with dew,

Beneath the rosy cloud, while yet the beams
Of day-spring overshoot his humble nest.

The Cottager, a witness of his song,

Himself a songster, is as gay as he.
But save me from the gaiety of those

Whose head-aches nail them to a noon-day bed,
And save me too from those whose haggard eyes
Flash desperation, and betray the pangs
For property stript off by cruel chance;
From gaiety that fills the bones with pains,
The mouth with blasphemy, the heart with woe.
Cowper.

OUR COTTAGE.

THE brook is rippling gently by,

The breeze sends forth its plaintive sigh:
Care does no longer hover nigh

Our Cottage.

Our peaceful home from strife is free,
Then who can ever happier be,

While we with joy can daily see

Our Cottage.

Here peace and plenty reign around,

In ev'ry bosom love is found,

And God's best blessing spread around

Our Cottage.

No vile deceit shall enter here,
From scenes of crime we'll seek to steer,
Then tranquil joy will linger near

Our Cottage.

Let those who are to blessings blind
Be warned! The right path ever mind,
And then a heaven on earth they'll find

ON LANGUAGE.

Their Cottage.

Anon.

MAMMA. What book are you reading, Charles? CHARLES. Bingley's Animal Biography, mamma. MAMMA. Show me what part you were reading; and tell me if you quite understand it.

CHARLES. Nearly all of it, mamma.

Always ask

MAMMA. I wish you, my dear, never to pass over a single word which you do not understand. for an explanation of it.

CHARLES. Here is the place in the book, 'The Antelope tribe.'

MAMMA. We will take this then for our lesson. Read it, Charles, one sentence at a time.

CHARLES. "The antelopes are in general an elegant and active tribe of animals, inhabiting mountainous countries, where they bound among the rocks with so much lightness and elasticity, as to strike the spectator with astonishment.'

MAMMA. Stop there, Charles. What is the Antelope? LUCY. An animal.

MAMMA. Of what class.

FANNY. A quadruped.

MAMMA. What is meant by saying, 'they are in general active?' &c.

CHARLES. That they are most commonly so.

MAMMA. You are right. What do you mean by 'elegant?'

CHARLES. Graceful, well made, full of

grace.

MAMMA. Can Lucy tell me what 'active' means?

Lucy. Lively, moving about a great deal.
MAMMA. And what does a 'tribe' mean?

FANNY. A class, a race of beings.

MAMMA. Give me an instance by which this can be

proved.

CHARLES. Oh mamma, the hymn we transposed yesterday,

'Let every nation, every tribe

On this terrestrial ball,' &c.

MAMMA. What part of speech is 'active?'
FANNY. An adjective.

MAMMA. Lucy, tell me what your sister means by an adjective?

LUCY. A word added to a noun, to show its quality. MAMMA. Which is the noun, then, here?

LUCY. Tribe,' mamma.

MAMMA. What does 'an animal' mean?

CHARLES. Any living thing.

MAMMA. This is not a sufficiently clear definition. FANNY. No, because plants are alive; but they are

quite different from animals.