tit fag tit*.
LITTLE ONES IN HEAVEN.
There's a band of brighest angels,
In celestial bowers,
Cherubs that were little children
In this World of ours.
Peacefully the breath of Heaven
Stirs the robes they wear,
*lory'a glittering garland gleaming
On their foreheads fair.
Hark! they strike their tiny harp-strings,
In a song of love;
Adding music to the praises
Of the hosts above.
Could our ears but catch the echo
Of their rapturous strain,
We who laid them down in sorrow
Should not weep again.
I, too, wept in voiceless anguish,
When, one April night,
Angels took my baby jewel
To their world of light; -
Closed his blue eyes up in darkness,
Chilled his brow of snow,
Leaving but the broken casket
Of my care below.
Oh, mothought the rushing river
Was so wide and cold,
Over which the angels bore him,
To the navenly fold.
Saw I but the grave's deep chasm
And the coffin's gloom,
While in white our hands enshrined him,
For the silent tomb.
Now a form of matchless beauty
Bids my weeping cease,
Pointing to the blissful mansions
Of eternal peace :
And my heart, now grown submissive,
Patiently shall wait,
Till for me the shining angels
Ope the golden gate.
tins. J. W. LANE.
EisT Pahinaces, N. Y., April 7th,18434.
PICTURES OF THE OCEAN.
We are but islanders. On every side
The ocean's universal rolling tide
Goes in perpetual compass and returns,
And'none his Anal boundary discerns.
Far to the north thy nameless waters roll,
And gird with icy barriers either pole ;
Vast , fields of desolation without form,
Turhaltuous silence , in:erfrozen storm.
And rouridand round, in endless circuit hurled,
Thy-restless arms, embrace the solid world.
Thy mysteries a thousand fathoms low,
The bases whence thy coral islands grow,
Thy fearful deeps, abyss within abyss,
Where, omit with central heat, thy waters hiss,
Thy monsters of the slime with cruel eye,
Are, secrets opened but to those that die.
Dread Ocean 1 peerless in thy wrathful hour
Where'er the incumbent element thy power
Invokes, and from heaven's gathering pitchy
crown
The wheeling squadrons of the storm come down
'On venturous man and thee; the echoing blast
And cries of men and thunders thick and fast
Thunders of heaven and thunders of the deep—
In dire confusion mingled, where unseen
But the Death Angel walks secure I wean.
For up as 'twerp to heaven the bark ascends,
Anon with all her ponderous freight she bends,
And points a moment towards the yawning
waste
Then headlong downward• leaps with frantic
haste.
'The ancient dread of ocean is no more,
The angry breakers die along the shore;
*The stormy winds have sought their hollow
cave,
And gentle airs shall kiss and curl the wave,
•And all the stars that wheel in quiet sphere
Each evening find their softened image there;
Or playfully from crest to crest shall glance,
And rival there the upper mystic dance.
And when the sun, dispensing twilight dim,
Darts his first ray above the Ocean's rim,
Then, kindling far around for many a mile,
The expanse shall glow one multitudinous
smile.
And angel craft shall cleave those peaceful
seas,
With purple canvas spread to woo the breeze;
And angel voices blending with the song
Of Winds•and waters as they glide along.
Oh, thus in that fair world that is to be,
Quiet and beauty shall invest the sea.
WEE DAVIE.
BY NORMAN MACLEOD, D. D
Davie was the most powerful and influ
ential member of the household. Neither
the British fleet, nor the French army,
nor the Armstrong gun, nor the British
Parliament, had the power of doing what
Davie did. They might as well have
tried to make a primrose grow or a lark
sing !
lie was, for example a wonderful stim
ulus to labor. The smith had been
rather disposed to idleness before his
son's arrival. He did not take to his
work on cold mornings as he might have
done, and was apt to neglect many op
portunities which offered themselves, of
bettering his condition ; and Jeanie was
easily put off by some plausible objection
when, she urged her husband to make an
.additional honest penny to keep the
- house. But "the bairn" became a new
motive to exertion ; and the thought of
leaving him and Jeanie more comfort
able, in case sickness laid the smith aside,
•or death took him away, became like a
new - sinew to his powerful arm, as he
wielded the hammer, and made it ring
the music of hearty work on the anvil.
The meaning of benefit-clubs, sick-socie
ties and penny-banks, was fully explain
ed by "wee Davie."
One failing of William's had hitherto
resisted Jeanie's silent influence. The
smith had formed the habit, before he
was married, of meeting a few compan
ions, "just in a friendly way," on pay
-night at a public-house. It was true he
was never what might be called a drunk
ard"—" never lost a day's work"—
"never was the worse of liquor," &c.
But, nevertheless,
when he entered the
'r uggery in Peter Wilson's whiskey-shop,
with the blazing fire and comfortable
atmosphere ; and when, with half-a-dozen
talkative; and, to lira, pleasant fellpws
asstOld',4oinpanione he sat around the
fire, and the glass circulated; and the
gossip of the week was discussed ; and
racy stories were told ; and one or two
songs sung, linked together by memories
of old merry-meetings; and current jokes
were repeated, with humor, of the tyran
nical influence which some would pre
sume to exercise on " innocent social
enjoyment"—then would the smith's
brawny chest expand, and his face beam,
and his feelings become malleable, and
his sixpences begin to melt, and flow out
in generous sympathy into Peter Wilson's
foxy hand, to be counted carefully be
neath his sodden eyes. And so it was
that the smith's wages were always les
sened by Peter's gain. His wife had
her fears—her horrid anticipations—but
did not like to tell " even to" her hus
band anything so dreadful as what she
in her heart dreaded. She took her own
way, however, to win him to the house
and to good; and gently-insinuated wishes
rather than expressed them. The smith,
no doubt, she comforted herself by think
ing, was only "merry," and never ill
tempered or unkind,—" yet at times—"
" and then if—!" Yes, Jeanie, you are
right The demon sneaks into the house
by degrees, and at first may be kept out,
and the door shut upon him ; but let him
only once take possession, then he will
keep it, and slut the door against _every
thing pure, lovely, and of good report,
—barring it against thee and "wee Davie"
ay, and against One who isibest of all,—
and will fill the house with sin and shame,
with misery and despair ! But " wee
Davie," with his arm of might, drove
the demon out. It happened thus.
One evening when the smith returned
home so that " you could know it on him,"
Davie toddled to him; and his father,
lifting him up, made him stand on his
knee. The child began to play with the
locks of the Samson, to pat him on the
cheek, and to repeat with glee the name
of dad-a." The smith gazed on him
intently, and with a pecular look of love,
mingled with sadness. "Isn't he a bon
ni.e bairn ?" asked'Jeanie, as she looked
over her husband's shoulder at the child,
nodding and smiling to him. The smith
spoke' not a word, but gazed intently upon
his boy, while, some sudden emotion was
strongly working in his countenance.
"It's done ! " he at, last ,said, as he put
his child. down. " What's wrang ! what's
wrang !" exclaimed his wife as she stood
before him and put her hands round his
shoulders, bending down until her face
was close to his. " Every thing is wrang,
Jeanie !" " Willy, what is't ? are ye no
weel ?—tell me what's wrang with you ?
—oh tell me !" she exclaimed, in evi
dent alarm. "It's a' richt noo !" he
said, rising up and seizing the child,
lifted him to his breast, and kissed him.
Looking up in silence, he said, " Davie
has done it, along wi' you, Jeanie.
Thank God, lam a free man !" His
wife felt awed, she knew not how. "Sit
loon," he said, as he took out his hand
kerchief,. and wiped away a tear from
his eye, " and I'll tell you a' about it."
Jeanie sat on a stool at his feet, with
Davie on her knee. The smith seized
his child's little hand with one of his own,
and with the other took his wife's. " I
havna been what ye may ca' a drunkard,"
he said, slowly, and like a man abashed,
" but I hae been, often as I shouldna
hae been, and as, wi' God's help,
I never, never will be again !" "Oh 1"
exclaimed Jeanie. "Let me speak,"
said William ; "to think, Jeanie,"—
here he struggled as if something was
choking him,—" to think that for
whiskey I might beggar you and wee
Davie; tak' the Claes aff your back;
drive you to the workhouse; break your
heart; and ruin my bonnie bairn that
loves me sae, weel ; ay, ruin him in saul
and body, for time and for eternity !
God forgive me I I canna stand the
thocht o't, let alane the reality !" The
strong man rose, and little accustomed
as he was to show his feelings, he kissed
his wife and. child. " It's done, it's
done !" he said ; "as I'm a leevan man,
it's done ! But dinna greet, Jeanie.
Thank God for you and Davie, my best
blessings." "Except Himsel' !" said
Jeanie, as she hung on her husband's
neck. "And noo, woman," replied the
smith, " nae mair it about; it's done.
Gie wee Davie a piece, and. get the sup
per ready."
J. W. M
The street in which the smith lived
was as uninteresting as any could be.
A description of its outs and ins would
have made a "social science" meeting
shudder. Beauty or even neatness it
had not. Every ' close" or " entry" in-I
it looked like a sepulchre. The back
courts were a huddled confusion of out
houses ; strings of linens drying ; stray
dogs searching for food; hens and
pigeons similiarly employed with more
apparent success and satisfaction ; lean
cats creeping about; crowds of children,
laughing, shouting and muddy to the
eyes, acting with intense glee the great
dramas of life, marriages, battles, deaths,
and burials, with castle-building, exten
sive fanning, and various commercial
operations : and an utterly uncomfort
able look. But in spite of all this, how
many cheerful homes, with. bright fires
and nice furniture, inhabited by kite],
ligent, sober, happy men and women,
with healthy, lively children, are every
where to be found in those very streets,
which seem to the eye of those who have
never penetrated further than their out
side, to be " dreadful places ;" and who
imagine that all their inhabitants must
be pigs in pig-styes, or steeped in wretch
edness and. whiskey.
A happier home could hardly be found
than that of William Thorburn, as he
sat at the fireside after returning from
his work, reading, the newspaper, or
ftoike book of*reightier literature, , &debt-,
PHILADELPHIA, THURSDAY, APRIL 21, 1864.
ed from his well-filled shelves in the
little back parlor ; while Jeanie was sew
ing opposite to him, and, as it often hap
pened, both absorbed in the rays of that
bright light, " wee Davie," which filled
their dwelling, and the whole 'world, to
their eyes ; or both listening to th'e grand
concert of his happy voice, whibh min
gled with their busy work and ; silent
thoughts, giving harmony to alli How
much was done for his sake ! He \vas the
most sensible, efficient, and thdroughly
philosophical teacher of household econo
my and of social science in all ith depart
ments who could enter a work% man's
I
dwelling !
FAILURES IN FAMILY TRA4ING.
vir4o Is TO BLAME.? k„ ,
You point to many good men, praying
men,
whose children seemed to be ti.:Led
with much care, but have turne out
badly. The fact is indisputable,asVp is
mournful. But who is to blame ? Do
you charge it upon God ? Has his Po ra
t\s
ise failed ? Does he break the covens t'?
Or did those good men fail to duly e
God's enjoined instrumentalities ? .14w
was it ? Did they begin in time ? or did
they permit the enemy to sow the fist
seed ? Were their children needless
exposed to temptation ? and did til
-1
neglect, a part of God's instructions
and did they remit, or relax their labo
while a part of their work was yet undone
Were those children trained really, an
truly, in the way in which they should
go ? Eli of old was a good man, a prayink
man. He gave excellent council and a(li i
ministered wholesome reproof. But he
did not duly exercise authority. II
i
did not make his words of wise , trectio
effective. '" His sons made themselv i
vile, .and 'he restrained them not;'' - - - -Elq
: also was David ' a good man ;''but 10'
failed in family government. 'llencd
sorrow came to his house. He 'had not
a happy home. Be admonished then.
If you use not God's appointed means
timeously, and in , their fullness, and to
the end, your hope is presuMptuous; and,
in such a case, to complain of a failure
is to charge God foolishly. Then, ac
knowledge your responsibility ; justify
God ; do your duty ; and receive the
blessing. McKinney' s Family Tr ea
su,r e. . -
GLEANINGS FROM THE FOREIGN MIS
SIONARY FIELD.
THE WORD OF GOD ON NEW ZEALAND.
Acts xvii : 11. They received the word
with all readiness of mind, and searched
the Scriptures daily whether those things
were so.
On the arrival of the krst printing
press, in 1835, upon the island 'of New
Zealand, the printer to the Mission
wrote back to England: "WheTt i, was
explained to the people that I had' come
to print books for them, they wedgy be
side themselves for joy. No hero of
the ancient times could have been wel
comed by his soldiers with greater re
joicing. The 2d of January, 1835,
was the memorable .day in the annals of
New Zealand, when the first printing
press reached the country, and I was
obliged to take every thing apart on
the beach to explain the matter to them.
They danced, they screamed, they threw
themselves into the water, they gave
vent to the wildest expressions of, joy.
Great excitement , prevailed over the en
tire island. From remote tribes they
came to procure teachers and books. I
myself have seen them joyfully bring
ing heavy loads of potatoes to get a
single book."
The great desire for books to read
and as a means of self-instruction, is
for the most part altogether peculiar to
this mission. The Missionaries often
found schools and chapels in, districts
never yet visited by , a white man; and
native teachers whom no one had sent,
teaching, as well as they were able,
from the New Testament, which they
had procured from the mission stations..
In the dark' wilderness, they liave come
by night upon the hilts — of the, natives,
where after supper, a chapter of the
Bible was read, and that by persons
who had never seen a foreign missionary,
and who had never been baptized. Thus,
a missionary once heard in the wilder
ness, in the heart of New Zealand,
which he was traversing, a sound. as of
a bell, which was produced by gunbar
rels hung upon a string, and which was
the signal of worship to a savage tribe,
where the New Testament was read to
the unbaptized people, by one himself
unbaptized.
HUNGERING AFTER THE WORD OF GOD
Amos viii H. Behold the days come,
saith the Lord God, that I will send a famine
in the land, not a famine of bread, nor a
thirst for water, but of hearing the word of
the Lord.
The first portion of the Scriptures
which was printed in Tahitian language
was the Gospel of Luke. The natives
came many days' journey to procure
this precious treasure.
One evening, five men from Tahiti
landed on Afaraitu and hastened to Mr.
Ellis, who was standing in the doorway
of his house. He. asked them what they
wished. As with one voice,
they all
answered, " The Gospel of Luke; and
pointed to their bamboo flasks of cocoa
nut oil. • Ellis told them that his stock
was exhausted, and that they must wait
until morning, when a number more
would be got out. He directed them,
for the night, to a friend in the village;
but what was his surprise, upon looking
out of his window the next morning, at
sunrise, to find the men lying before the
door of his house ! They were fearful
lest other purchasers should . come 13.efore
daAil'ealt ancl:l4,-/Fie : . PFotailed Vedif
away from them. "For this reason,"
said they, "we could not go from the
place till we had received the books."
HIGH ABOVE THE WAVES.
Jer. xv: 16. Thy words were found and
I did eat them; and thy word was unto me
the joy and rejoicii of mine heart.
One day several Tahitians had gone
out in a little boat, and were in immi
nent peril from a storm, which filled the
boat with water. With difficulty they
were rescued. When the missionary,
Ellis, asked them, " What did you think
of when the water filled your vessel ?"
they replied, "We thought of nothing
but our books, and had but one care—
to keep them dry." With that they
pointed to the mast-head, where their
gospels; wrapped in cloths, were firmly
fastened. Thus they only took care of
their Bibles, while their clothes and other
matters were ruined with the sea water.
THROUGH THE FIRE
Another lay on his mat one evening,
reading in his Gospel by the light of a
lamp which he had made from a cocoa
nut shell. At length he fell asleep; and
'the lamp burned up. The house, built
of wood, took fire, and the flames
circling around him awoke him. He
jumped up and ran. out of the burning.
house. But scarcely had he got out
when he remembered that he had left
his book lying upon the mat. He sprang
back again into the flames, and though
considerably burned in different places,
he did not come out until he had the
book, which had remained uninjured.
All his property was destroyed, but he
was cheerful ; he had saved his dear
Gospel.
A COSTLY BIBLE
calm; 127. I love thy command
ments above gold; yea, above fine'gold.
,A Christian islander upon Orosonga
desired to possess a New Testament. It
wq the object of his most earnest wish
' s.l But how was he to get it? He re
°lied what to do. He hedged around'
piece of land, planted it with arrow
oot, and in due time loaded . up his
anoe with the product, to, carry it, in
lace of money, to thee - Mission station.
hen near the end of his journey, a
s orm arose, his canoe was- upset, and
t e labor of a whole year, and with it
s cherished hope, lay at the bottom of
t e sea; yet by swimming.he saved his
lire and his canoe. Under the erro
n,6ous eupposition that without pay he
ceuld get no. New Testament, he re
tu\med sadly to his home. But what
did he determine on nest.? He again
tilled his little field, waited once more
until harvest, succeeded in another at
tempt to bring the pay to the desired
spot, and the treasure to his house.
THE LOANED TESTAMENT.
Ps. exix.: 24, 123. Thy, testimonies also
are 'my delight. Mine eyes fail for thy sal
vation:. arid for the word of -thy righteous—
ness.
A Missionary, while traversing the
wilds of Canada, fell in with a poor In
dian woman. He addressed her with
words of exhortation, and scarcely had
she discovered him to be a preacher of
the Gospel when she earnestly besought
him to give her a Bible. She had only
heard a little read from it, but that little
was enough to convince her that that
book and that alone, could heal the
wounds of her heart ; hence her eager
ness to improve the present opportunity
for procuring a Bible. But, alas 1 the
missionary has nothing with. him but his
own Testament, and that he cannot part
with. But he cannot refuse the impor-,
tunate entreaty; he lends it to her uponf,
condition that she shall bring it back to`
him in that place in a month.
The month, is gone. The missionary
has again reached the place, and soon he
perceives the woman approaching, with
tardy steps and a troubled look. He
, can tell from a distance - that she brings
no good news. " . Have you - the book ?"
be asks. "No," she sadly answers.
" Why, wimt have you done with it—
sold it?" "Ah, 'no," sh 6 replies, "I
took it with me to my wigwam and read
from it, to my neighbors. But when
they heard the glad tidings they all
wanted to have the book. I could not
withstand their urgency and their re
quests ; I had to give each a piece,
and
here is my share." With that she drew
forth a couple of leaves from the book !
So precious, dear reader, to these
awakened heathen is the Word of God.
And you and I ? We have it ; and is it
as precious to us ?
SOIENOE AND THE ARTS.
I PII.EaSED FOR oim. cow/Imq
THEORIES OF THE GLACIAL EPOCH.
Much difficulty has been experienced
in accounting for the existence of gla
ciers in the temperate region ; unmis
takable traces of which have been found
in so many cortntries.
To account for the advent and subse
quent disappearance of such vast masses
of ice, var.ous hypotheses have been
propounde6. It has been suggested that
the temperature of space is not uniform,
and that. our solar system, in perform
ing its proper motion among the stars,
sometiilies passes through regions of
compw'ratively low temperature ; accord
ing tc, this hypothesis, the glacial epoch
occurred during the passage of our sys
tem. through such a cold portion of
space. Some have imagined that the
heat emitted by the sun, is subject to
variation and that the glacial epoch
happened during what may be termed a
cold solar period ; others, again, believe
that a different distribution of and and
water would render the climate of
localities colder than it is at present ;
and OtlfortV thiii; Vie time of
cial period the mountains were much
higher than at present—Mt. Blanc tlr
instance, 20,000 feet—and last, that
the water of the ocean was once much
warmer than at the present time, and
that large quantities of vapor were con
densed by the higher atmosphere, pro
ducing sufficient cold to foam these im
mense masses of ice, which were received
upon the mountain sides. Thus the
ocean being the evaporator, the higher
atmosphere was the condenser, and the
earth the receiver.
VALUE OF COAL AS FUEL.
Three hundred thousand men are en
gaged in mining coal in Great Britain.
They mine about 100,000,000 tons' of
coal. This contains eighty per cent. of
carbon, or 80,000,000 tons of carbon..
Liebig informs us that every acre of
fertile land will produce yearly about two
tons 'and a half of wood, or other crop,
which.contains the same quantity , of car
bon (80 per cent.) as one ton of coil.
To produce the equivalent of the above
amount of coal in wood would require
one year's growth of (in round numbers)
100,000,000 acres of land; or' about
four times the extent of the arable and
pasture lands of England; yet this sup
ply of fuel, if it existed in the form of
wood, would be practically useless as a
substitute for coal. The laboring popu
lation of the kingdom would be unable
to cut and prepare it ; and all the, rail
ways and canals would not suffice to
trartsport it.
INCOME FROM FARMS AND RAILROADS IN
GREAT BRITAIN.
The land occupied by the railroads of
Great Britain is under two hundred
thousand acres, inchiding stations - and
other conveniences. The land used for
agricultural purposes is about 40,000,-
000 acres. Yet the railway system
pays nearly as large an amount of in
come and property tax as all the farmers
of Great Britain. The railroads occupy
less than half of one per cent. of land as
compared with the'Tarms.
IMPROVEMENT IN TRANSPORTATION
Two hundred years ago, in England,
coal was 'conveyed from the Mines tkithe
shipping place on pack-horses, 3 cwt.•
being the load. As soon as a road
suitable for wheel carriages was made,
carts were introduced, and by this me
chanical improvement, the same horse
would convey 17 cwt. When the roads
were further improved, by laying 'wood
en bars or rails, the load was increased
to 42 cwt. Now, with a further im
proved road (the railway) a locomotive
will draw 200_ tons, at a cost 'for fuel
about equal to the price of the feed of
the original pack-horse.
MECHANICAL ENERGY IN A POUND OF
A pound of coal used in a. well con
structed steam engine, will produce a
power 1 - ,to one milTion pamds raised
one foot high. This is a duty rarely
realized in an engine. Yet it can be
demonstrated that the ,mechanical en
ergy resident in . a pound of coal and
liberated by its combustion, is capable of
exerting a power ten times as great.
EFFECT OF THE AQUEOUS VAPOR SUS--
PENDED IN THE AIR
- The minute quantity of water sus
pended agjnvisible vapor in the air,
being flit% of aqueous vapor to 200 of
air, will absorb thirty times as much
heat as the collective 200 particles of
air. If this aqueous Vapor were removed
for a single Summer night, the radiation
of heat from the surface of the earth
would be so great as to destroy all vege
tation by frost before morning.
LATIN HYMNS OF THE FOURTH AND
FIFTH CENTURIES.
By means of Latin hymns such as
these, if all other sacred literature of
the period had perished, might we not
trace the course of Christian life in the
fourth century from hour to hour, and
from day to day thro . ughout the year ?
An ideal life this would indeed be,
rather than one led in full by any sinful
man on earth. But the ideal is the
standard of the actual; the aim shows
the direction of the effort, though it may
not indeed show how nearly the object
was attained.
In the morning, then, these hymns
would awake those in whose hearts their,
melody lived to the shining of an eter
nal Sun, serene in changeless and life
giving light; and illumined by Him,
spurning sloth, and casting off the
worlis of darkness," they would go forth
as children of the Day to the day's work.
The third hour reminded them that then
Jesus had been crucified; the glow of
the southern noon, that then the light
of the world had hung in darkness on
the cross for their redemption ; at the
ninth hour, the cloud had passed from
the cross. At - evening they lay down
in peace, Christ, at once their light and
their day, shining through the thickest
darkness ; and in Him they found rest.
Midnight also had its radiant cluster of
sacred memories; the Paschal Lamb,
the praises sung by Paul and Silas in
the prison, the cry " The Bridegroom
cometh !" Thus the round of sweet and
solemn recollections brought them back
to the cock-crowing, and they were re
minded of that unutterable look with
which the Lord turned and looked on
Peter, and melted all the ice from his
heart. Day after day bore its own
story of the creating and redeeming
work of God. The manger of the in
fant Saviour, and the star of Bethlehem,
shone through their winter. Spring,
with the singing of birds, and the splen
dor of flowers, and all its visible dawn
ing of new life, brought also the morning
of ,th6restirreationi :the Easter joruf
•
nature and of the Church burst forth in
harmony. Summer led their hearts
up through its radiant depths of light to
the surpassing glory of the throne where
sitteth the ascended Son of God, restored
to the right hand of the Father. And
with the fulness of life in the natural
world, came the fulness of life in the
spiritual, as Pentecost recalled the de
scent of the life-giving Spirit to abide
with the Church for ever.—Ohri 4tian,
Life in Song.
HUGUENOT REFUGEES.
In whatever branch of business or of
labor, in whatever profession, whether
of peace or of war, we find these refu
gees, they almost invariably take a
leading position, and leave impressions
for good that remain for generations,
and even yet appear in the life, ,the
thinking, the_ pursuits, and the social.,
order of men. They turned the current
of speech in Europe to the French lan
guage, and-largely aided in the: -move-
went which for a time put French in
place of the native tongues of Holland
and Germany, and which even, yet
maintains it as the polite languages of
Europe. They changed entirely the
channels of 'trade and the course of
exchange. When the news of the Revo
cation of the Edict of Nantes was re
ceived at Amsterdam, the consternation
on 'Change was so great that no one.
would lend money to a house which
dealt with French merchants. Those
French merchants, with multitudes of
tradesmen and artisans, were soon' in
Amsterdam and other Protestant cities,
and France ceased to be the great mart
for.: European traders. Holland, Ger
many, England, and Switzerland, under
Huguenot industry, were rescued from
commercial dependence on France, and
became producers instead of mere. con
sumers, of all kin ds of valuable menu.
factures. Berlin, Magdeburg, and
Frankfort became commercial placeS.
The Elbe and the Oder were covered—
with ships. All the great roads were
'thronged with carriages importing for
eign merchandise and exporting the
Manufactures of the country.. Rnssia.`
and Poland came to Berlin to purchase-
I the woollens, the silks, the velvets, iandf;
the laces, of the refugees, which they
-formerly bought inFranee.
Such a reputation did the various
manufactures of the refugees gain, that
they thrust out of'the market even su
perior articles of French make. Manu
facturers in other countries went SO far
as to send their goods to Holland, brink
them back again, and then offer them'
for sale as products of the industry of
the French refugees in that country.
Even French manufacturers sought to
imitate the work of their exiled country
men, in order to procure purchasers for
their wares.
.Thus a new life was given to the slug
gish people of Europe, enfeebled with
long wars. The cheerful hum of Hugue
not- industry filled the air, and , the
surrounding populations were instructed
in new --- prrrsui - tas --- and astonished Av4,h
new visions of thrift, good taste, recti
tude, and prosperity. The Huguenot
farmers drained the marshes of Hesse-
Cassel, turned sterile tracts into bloom
ing. orchards, taught the .Danes the
secret of the rotation of crepe; intro
duced the culture of flax and hemp in
the bleak soil of Iceland, and everywhere '
planted gardens, and added to the salt
meat and fish and dry beans of the
Prussian diet the almost unknown luxu
ry of vegetables. They opened mines
of coal and iron; they set up forges;
they more than doubled the whale fish
eries of the Dutch. They built the first
paper-mill in Prussia, and their mills in
Holland after the Revocation furnished.
paper to German, French, and English
publishers ; they gave an extraordinary
impulse to . the book-business, which at
that time was carried on by the Dutch,.
and they filled France with a religion&
and doctrinal literature which to some
extent supplied the place of the living
teachers driven away by persecuting
hate, and which perhaps helped so won
derfully to preserve the Protestant,
leaver in that country. To-day, in spite.
of St. Bartholomew, in spite of dragoon,
ings, and in spite 'of the Revocation and
the exile of half a million of Protestant&
from France, there are just about as
many of this faith, in proportion to the
population, as there were in 1685.
The great skill of these workmen and
farmers, the taste and elegance display
ed in the products of their toil,. their
honesty, their purity of character, their
high repute for piety, their habits of
order, and their devotion to their work,
brought about a result of greater impor
tance to the working-man, perhaps, than
any we have named. The mechanic
arts and industrial' pursuits grew in pub
lie esteem ; seen in such ennobling asso
ciations' people could not any longer
despise them as they used to do; and.
thus, through Huguenot influence, the
condition of the middle and working
classes was elevated, and that great
movement which is ever going on under
the influence of a pure gospel, to dignify
honest toil and.to bless the working-man,
was greatly promoted by these true
confessors. Palissy, the Huguenot pot
ter, a century earlier, felt that in pur
suing his calling to the best of his abili
ties he was acting in accordance with
the divine will, and expected and re
ceived God's blessing as a working-man.
He honored and adorned his calling in
a remarkable degree: the potter's art is
a nobler one since his day. And the
high-toned. Huguenot workmen of a later
day kept up and spread abroad similar
views about this whole class of man's
activities. God will not suffer this
course of opinion on the subject of labor
to be interfered with. All who seek to
degrade labor and to enslave the work
ing-man are at some period most terri
bly rebuked and punished. --Martyrs of
Prance.
HE that would be little in tempta
tion, let him be much, in prayer.---John