rAt familti (Mutt.
"WHO SHALL ROLL AWAY. THE
STONE?"
And they said among themselves. Who shall roll
ns away the stone from the door of the sepulchre?
And when they looked, they saw that the stone was
rolled away.— Await. xvi. 3, 4.
What poor weeping ones were saying,
Eighteen hundred years ago,
We, the same weak faith betraying,
Say in our sad hearts of Woe.
Looking at some trouble lying
In the dark and dread unknown,
We too often ask with sighing,
Who shall roll away the stone?"
Thus with care our spirits crushing,
When they might from care be free,
And, in joyous song out-gushing,
Rise in rapture, Lord, to thee.
For, before the way was ended,
Oft we've had with joy to own,
Angels have from heaven descended,
And have rolled away the stone.
Many a storm•clouud sweeping o'er us
Never poured on us its rain
Many a grief we see before,us
Never comes to cause us pain - .
Oft-times in the feared "to-morrow"
Sunshine coimes—the cloud has flown!
Ask not then in foolish sorrow,
"Who shall roll away the stone?"
Burden not thy soul with sadness;,
Make a wiser, better choke;
Drink-the wine of life with gladness;
. God (loth bid thee, man, "Rejoice."
In to-day's bright sunlight baiking,
Leaire to- morrow's cares alone;
Spoil not present joys by asking,
"Who shall roll away the stone?"
MARY ,ELLEN.
In the morning 'bloom of youth,
Mary Ellen was a lovely girl, joyous
in health and spirits, promising to her
self and friends increasing pleasure as
she advanced in years. But a fall
from her horse, for she was fond of
riding, laid her on the bed of pain and
weakness. She now seemed to be very
reserved and thoughtful, sometirhes
dull and gloomy,,and generally silent.
Her friends noticed the change, but
could not draw from her the real cause
of her sorrow, which seemed to arise
more from distress of mind than bodily
suffering. No means were neglected
by the fond parents to relieve their
beloved child; no expense Spared.
She was placed first under the care of
one medical man, and then another,
and another ; but One above had
Claimed her for His, and was gradu
ally preparing her, for a home above.
The.way was "through much tribula
tion," but the right way.
Failing health and failing strength
at last became more apparent. For,
months she was unable to speak above
a whisper; and a constant and. dis
tressing cough gave her little respite.
At length, after having been for some
time under medical treatment, she re
turned home in such a state of weak
ness, that those who, saw her felt per
suaded that she was not likely long to
be a resident of earth.
In a very short time after that, she
was no longer able to rise from her
bed, and knew that she, was passing,
away herself. And then, it seems as
if the reserve that had hitherto so
closely enfolded her began to relax its
rigidity. The heart, melted with love
to her Saviour, no longer strove to
conceal that lore. The spirit, yearn
ing for a brighter, fairer clime, visibly
betrayed that yearning; while the pre
cious,Bible, no longer secretly perused,
became the daily companion of many
a lonely hour. For she was spared for
weeks to testify that Jesus was her
Saviour, that in Him alone she now
trusted. Again and again were her
-sweet eyes upraised to hearcn„ -and
the thin white hands clasped t fervently,
as she exclaimed : " Ohlrwila should
Ido without Jesusmow ? Ah ! Jesus,
Jesus, is my only. hope."
On one of her sisters inquiring, when
she first began to think of these things,
she replied, (oh, for some time now;"
intimating that she had in secret been
-Seeking the Saviour, and had now
&mid him. Once her anxious father,
conscious that she would soon leave
them, told her that she would shortly
have done with earth and earthly ob
fecti, and earnestly asked her if she
elt prepared to die.
She answered, "Oh yes! I trust
alone in Jesus."
"I have done with earth," she once
exclaimed; Oh, what vanity it; seems
to nie`now I"
During the last week of her illness
'her sister Jane read much to her. She
was one day `reading some sweet hymns
of he,aveli and glory; among them,
."What must it be to dwell above," and
‘f Ori wings Of faith mount up, my soul,
ind rise" She listened with quiet
pleasure, and then exclaimed; " She
liked thena all." But the, one she liked
better than .all was her favorite
ea Rock of Ages, cleft fOr me,
Let me hide myself in thee."
That seemed to express her feelings
best.
Oh, how often has that sweet hymn
comforted the dying Christian 1 How,
often has it raised the failing hope of
the.weary pilgrim l~ How often has it
brOn'ght to the feet of Jesus the trem
bling sinner! How many times have
these expressive lines come from pale
UP%
"Nothing in my hand I bring ?,
Simply to thy cross I cling.
As Oe,ciosing scene drew near, the
~..fffith,and hope of thia - young Christian
gsgw krighter. So weak,' that when
. she slept her friends many timesbent
anxiously over her, fearing that she
had already left them; yet most of her
waking' moments were occupied in
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN, THURSDAY, JANUARY 26, 1865:
prayer. With hand meekly crossed
upon her bosom, and lips that amoved,
with inward aspirations, how fair she
loOked! Yet fairer still is she now,
white-robed, and glory-crowned, and
sorrowless; waving her palm-branch
with those who - ` through much tribu
liation" have entered, the kingdom of
heaven above.
On Christmas day, the day previous
to her departure, her father, looking
fondly at her, exclaimed, "This is the
last Christmas day for you, my dear'
Mary Ellen."
" Yes, father," she returned, a joyful
smile stealing into her face; "but next
Christmas I shall be the happiest of
you all."
A short time after she called fora
small looking-glass, and on its being
presented, she gazed fora few moments
earnestly at herself. .
"Yes, she presently said, " I am
changed! There- is death there! I
shall soon be gone."
So calmly does the love of God in
the - heart, His " Peace, be-still," on the
spirit, cause the soul. to look even Apon
the depths and billows of the dark
river of death!
More than once she -hadNthered
he*brothers and sisters together afFec
tidnitely urging the to < seek ' Christ
now, while youth, and health, and ,
strength remained.
To her brother Howard she tenderly
said, "You may live a long :time, - and
you may die very soon ;".but oh ! seek
Jesus now.'
Death came at last ; softly - , quietly
stealing over the fair features. Weep
ing friends gathered round. her, for
they kne* that she was going. They
watched her- fleeting breath, as it
scarcely moved. the bosom, ge;ntly and
more gently still passing , the pale lips.
The soft eyes were closed; their deep
lashes contrasting strangely with the
hues of the fair cheeks they rested
upon ; the transparent hands, in their
fa,vorite position, Were meekly crossed
upon her bosom. Life was ebbing
away; and yet so gently, it might have
been, as it was, only a sleep. Would
she speak again to the dear ones round
her? Would there le yet a word to
assure them she was happy, before she
had done" forever with earthly words.?
Yes; 'the soft eyes at last unclose;
and , With a sweet smile the, lips dis
tinctly whisper, "It is all right!" And
then the — spirit took its homeward,
happy 'departure.
"All right !" Yes, dear Mary Ellen.
Thy- parting breath set its seal to the
mercyof
. thy Heavenly Father. All
He doe's' is right. And glad thou hast
often eipressed thyself to be, that even
through tribulations He led thee to His
kingdom., Alit 1 who shall tell what
was risible to those 'closed eyes -in
those parting Moments? Who shall
`tell what reVieations weret being made
to theliparting Spirit that occasioned
the 'utterance of those last words, "It
is all right?"
"It is all right?" Help - us to feel
it so, 0 Jesus! however thorny our
pa.th. Be it our to exclaim with, our
dying lips, like this dear girl, "It is
all right!"
S'fIREWD RETORTS.
A gentlenian, travelling in a stage,
attempted_ to divert the company by
ridiculing the Boriptiires.,
."As to the
prophecies," said he, -"in- ; particular,
they were all written after the events
took t place." A minister in the coada,.
.wholiad,hitherto been silent, replied,
141,e,g leave to mention one par
tieUlar prophecy as- an ex - caption, 2
Peterli. 2, Knowing this first, that
there shall come in the last days scoffers.'
Now, sir, whether the. event be not
long after the prediction I leave the
company to judge.", The mouth of
the scoffer was stopped.
A preacher of the gospel, on being
introduced to a. sceptic, with the ex
planation that the man was a sceptic,
in the midst of an extended circle of
friends, said to him, "I suppose, then,
you do not believe anything." ,;‘.‘ 0
yes," replied the sceptic, "I do believe
many things;" " Will you, then,"'said
the preacher, "he, so good as to tell us
what you believe ?" The
,sceptic-re
plied, "I do not believe that old story of
the Bible, about Cain obtaining, a wife
in the land of -Nod, where there was
nobody living." "Never mind what
yOu don't believe," said the preacher,
"no doubt there is much of that;:but
tell us what you do believe.' The
sceptic rallied and said, " Well, I will
tell you ; I don't believe,
.the account
given by Moses, that. God commanded
the Midianites to be, destroyed." 'I I
am not inquiring for what you don't
believe, but. what . you do believe.
Tell us what you ,O believe." -Re
covering himself a little and clearing
up. his voice; he . made a desperate
effort, - saying, (11,-,don't believe - that
old fable, of the Bible, that God com
manded the Cananites to be destroyed."
His 'belief was- all 'dishedilf._, J , It corn
-meiaces all the time with _."/ don't le
A Romanist =once said to a . Christian,
"You Protestants could not prove your
Bible, if it were not for the 'Holy Ca
tholic Church and her great men."
"True,'.':said the Christian, " for the
Bible predicted that there would be
just such an apostate church and priest
hood, and here you are, just as the
Bible said. - "viiisw- -
After'hearing a discourse in which
much was said by-the preacher 'about
God, a sceptic said to him, "What is
this God, about whom you hare been
saying so much?" The preacher re
plied, "God is a spirit." The sceptic
fiercely followed up: " What is a
spirit ?" The preacher quickly turned
on him, and inquired, " What is a
cornstock ?" " Why—Vty—why—it
is a cornstock ?" "Yes, sir," replied
the preacher, "a spirit is-a spirit - and
if you cannot tell what a cornstock is,
whieh you have seen thousands of
times "and' know has an existence, why ,
do you ask me to tell you what the
Infinite Spirit is, or doubt his exist
lence ?"
A sceptic once said to a preacher,
"If the human body, after death, de
composes and returns o its original
elements, how is it raised from the
dead and identified:?" The preacher
replied, " And if the child seven, years
old has not one particle of, the, matter
. -
in it when it was born, and if there is
not one particle of the matter in, it
. ,
when it is fourteen years old that *as
in it when it was seven, ,and if all 'the
old matter is superseded by neW'once
every seven years till the Person is
seventy years,old, or if all, the matter
has been superseded by new matter
ten times, as, scientific men maintain,
and the, identity is not lost, why- rav
not the- person go through one more
change, in death and the resurrection,:
and not lose his identity, and why may
not this change take place, as it. Will
require no more power or wisdom to
accomplish it, than any'of the former
changes ?"—A. C. Review. -
RIGHT WORDS FOR. THE YOUNG.
Dr. Peabody,'at the opening of the
academie, yeas; preached a sermon on
the duties of students to their, parents.
The discourse abounds in "rise and
timely truth which applies with equal
force to the young.man who leaves his.
rural 'hearthstone to begin life in. the
city, or the patriot, who bids farewell
and marches forth to battle for, his
country. Alike in the; academic hall,
in `the-counting-room ; the._ , Nv-shop i .
or the camp, the absent should remem
ber their duties to the dear , ones at
home;' especially to those who ,have
watched, toiled, and. prayed - with the
fidelity and solicitude of parental love.
As, then, - this-page arrests the atten
tion of the student, clerk, apprentice,
or soldier, do not pass thoughtlessly
the words which fall from the univer
sity preacher:' They are as true
Boston, ProllOnce, Salem; Worcester,
on the deck, in the camp, while out on
picket, or on the weary march—as
true on the banks of the James, at
Port Royal, near Savannah, at the
siege of Nashville, as in the quiet halls
of old. Harvard.--C hr. Register-.
"YOu are entirely aware w'hat deep'
and enduring anguish You will inflict
on your pare,fits by any known depar
ture from an `honorable career. You
are aware, that those beginnings of
evil to which appetite, passion, oppor
tunity, example, and social influence
tenant you so strongly are looked upon
at home with stern 'disapproVal, , and
that you cannot indulge in them with,
out sending the keenest 'sorrow where
you are sacredly bound to be the min
isters 'of comfort and joy.
" most' or all of your homes,
the moral delinquencies that may be
thought lightly of iri some circles into
which you are thrown, are regarded
with rigor;yet with no more that just
severity. Before you left home :you
thought of these things as your pa-
Yeats think of theth now. Were you
then in the - , 'right ? Are they in the
right? Is' the question of right or
wrong a question Of place 7 - Does 'the
moral character of an act vary, lik - e
the tidei, or the - sunrise, with the meri
dian under which you may chance to,
be? You know that the right has no
'variation with meridian- or latitude..; .
that your home-lessons of.sobriety and
modesty, of purity in speech and
deed, of reverence for sacred names
and objects,, are God's. lessons, God's
commandmento, and that, if you 'are
false to Ahem here, you are no less
guilty than if you had been .eq - u.ally
false to them under the roof and ward
of your parents.
"Many years ago, one of our most
venerable - Massachusetts, , > statesmen,
nthen in Congress, on receiving a chal
lenge, for words spoken in debate, re
plied, 'My wife is as much concerned
in the answer as I am; I will write
home and, ask her, leave - And it
•seems to me that this response , implied
a very high style of nkanhood,—a cou
rage far superior to the foolhardy:
bravery which arms the duellist. Had
he been selfish and, cowardly, he would
have accepted the challenge, and -be
come zuilty of suicide or. of,murder.
There, is a close analogy between your
case and his.,
- "Let me now;say to ,you,that for,
yourselves there, is no : more- perilous'
- trait of character than, the reckless
ness whiCh- is ready, for the most
frivolous -inducements, to betray so
sacred a trust as a , father's or is
mother's happiness., The fault, itself
may be comparatively slight or venial;
it may in itself imply no settled ma
lignity or viciousness; but the filial
impiety, inyolVed in it admits of no
easy palliation. It is at once a malig
nant symptdni of present charac
ter, and a sign of evil portent for the
future. As one is in his native home
and household, so is the In the great
family of the State; in the world-wide
'family of =the children of God. From
One's relations as a child= grow his
characteristic principles and habits in
every other relation, both manward
and Godward."
SKATING. --
A pair of skates is a pair of wings!
How the gliding iron rings!
Like a bird that at once both flies and sings. -
Onward we'rush
Past hillock and bush,
Racing and chasing_
And facing the wind,
- Every nerve - bracing, '
Evolving, revolving, ,
Each one resolving -
- Not to be lefibehind,
And not to be outdone
Clangor and Shouting and fan!
And many a - manly tellow,
With honest hearts as,mellow
As - their handsare tough,
And their voices rough
Draw little sleds behind them,
With little girls fast. clinging,
And gallantly they mind them,
As they join their merry singing
Till the solemn woods are ringing, •
And the ice-king's palace-floor
Shakei With'the wild 'uproar!
vSo thegallii*nights of old '
A -,,Witen they tea a castle bold,
"Drank: the wine of its captive king,
..Made it merry with their bouts t
Made its dull-walls.crack'and nng
' 'With theiij laughter and their shouts.
—Edward Hopper
EVERY: DAY LIFE.
Mylriend Goodeno4h, is an accom
plished ,man. His appearance ,in so
ciety is unexc,eptiona,ble, he is regarded
as,aanodel. He once told Me his ex
periences, and they may I fyinish my
young friend . a hint or two - Which will
help himtell you, 'Squire Pencil,
I Was once as 'green and bashful as
anybody. . But I had a sensible sister.
She knew just what society was, made
of,, and what a perverse old coward.
Mrs. Grundy is, when she finds she can
not rule. So my - sister said to me—
she was `older than I—`=Tames, remem
ber that you are just as much entitled
to your opinion in society as any one
you find there is to bis or hers ; that
your ideas of good manners are quite
as likely to be correct as theirs. So,
do not sneak, nor cringe, nor be timid.
Act as'w - ell•and as naturally as you do
at home, and you will act well enough.
not be bold, but be manly. If you
want to ,speak to a y,oung lady, do so.
DO not stop to prepare a pretty speech,
butTay what you have got to'-say to
her: just a's you would say the: same
thing to your sister. Be frank, con
siderate, kind. Seek to, do : favors, but
do .not be of6.ciou,s. If, you are re
quired to d.O . anything which you do
not . know how to' do, seek the most.
accomplished.' lady in the room, tell:
, her frdnkly that you are ignorant; and
ask her to teach you. She will do it,
if she is a true lady; and if she does
not, seek some one else Whb will.
Do not shrink from anything society
reqUires you to do—that is honorable,
of C - ourse,--and if you do not know
how to attempt it, confess it, and, ask
.to be taught. You will soon learn all
that. needs to be ;; learned, and the re-,
-stranat of inaction arid' eMbarrassment
will quiekly - be removed. Try, try,
try,' said:she, and if yell make mis
takes, laugh at them with those. who
laugh,and try again. Cultivate kind
feelings towards all. Do)iot look for
other people's faults. Search for and
emulate and commend what you see
that is good in them. Always try - to
relieve Others of embarrassment when
you see they are embarrassed. Do it
,consid.erately, kindly. Keep your
heart green anci. your, mind pure and.
clear, and act yiurself, JAMES.
"So talked my sister, and so I acted
and that is all ;the training I ha - ve had.
'But there, is one t,hing ought 'always
to be remembered a ,person. should
act at home precisely as he ought to
.abroad. The habits_ of his every-day
life should be, correct, and then he will
need no especial training to fit hiralor
society." -
And, after all, LEAD _PENCIL, Esq.,
thinks the,home the best place - 6 learn
and. practice what will render one re
spectable in ; socieiy. The eyery-day
life of young men and women should
not have two faces.. There should 'not
be a society-face distinct from the home
face—no Society-tone distinct from the
tone of *the ,home-voice—no home
habits which should, be changed, or re
strained, or masked in ,society, If you
want to know how to appear in society;
learn :"how,to appear well at home.
Practice ha,bitu ally at, •honse r in , inter
course with those you should love and.
respect most, precisely what you learn
is etiquette - outside the home circle.—
Moore's Rural New Yorker.
CHUBBY CHILDREN.
It should be kept before - the people
that babies ought to be plump. A.
leiter from Berlin contains the follow
ing : "To one who has, just come from
America, I think hardly anything is
So striking as to see such niultiades
of children, from six years of age down
to six weeks, all ruddy, plump, and
healthy Look at the first five hun
dred you meet, and that universal
American nuisance, - a crying baby, is
not. to be seen. Why should they cry?
They have plenty of simple food—no.
devouring of pound-cake; if 'the child:
asks for bread, they do not give him
sucE a stone ; have plenty of fresh air
and play here, and Sleep in their plump
nurses' arms, and - wake - and sleep
again. The children certainly do not
look so delicately beautiful as with us
—fairies, but frail as fair—still, were I
a parent, I should thank God for the
honest, round, rosy, plump faces of
these children."
There is somethmg_s wrong about
'children that are not chubby, and
something wrong about children that
are not ful of fun and good humor.—
Buyalo Christian Advocate.
SINGULAR INCIDENT.
A gentleman belonging to Greenock,
who was among the saved from the
wreck of the ill-fated screw steamer
Anglo-Saxon, describes, in a letter to a
relative residing in town, a remarkable
circumstance connected with_ the land
ing of one of the boats belonging to
the ship.. The letter Is dated." at St.
Johns, May Ist. He-says:-
" The last time I saw Captain Bur
gess (the commander of the Anglo-
Saxon) he- was assisting-to lower .the
small boat, in which were einbarked
twenty-two men, one lady, and myself.
We left without food, compass, or
sufficient clothing. We were knocked
about in a fog all day, not knowing
whither we were, drifting. Towards
eve, however, we espied a cliff, off
Belle Isle, when we steered for Cape
Race, which we made. Approaching
the shore, we saw a man carrying a
gun, accompanied by two large New
foundland dogs. He evidently saw
us, and made .a signal for us. to ap
proach the shore cautiously. We fol
lowed his course for "some time, till he
was hid from us by a large cliff, which
it was impossible he could descend.
"The two dogs, however, soon ap
peared, descending this dangerous head
land, arid, upon reaching the water,
dashed precipitately into the sea, howl
ing dreadfully. Having swam out
close to the boat; they then turned to
ward the shore, keeping a little dis
tance ahead of us, indicating - that we
were to follow them. Our singular
pilots seemed to understand the danger
of our 'position, as we did not deviate
from the course they were leading us
without a loud howl being uttered by
them. At last we arrived in a natural
creek, where a safe landing was effected.
No other similar creek was to be seen,
- Which caused us all to wonder at the
sagacity displayed by these dumb ani
mals. No doubt our preservation was
in a > great measure attributable to
these noble dogs. An alarm having
been raised, a, rope was let down by a
Pulley, and we were taken up the cliff,
which 'is one hundred and fifty feet in
height. We were shortly after enabled
to reach the light-house, where every
attention was paid to us."
ECONOMY' IS WEALTH.
There is nothing which goes .so far
towards placing young people beyond
the reach of poverty, as proper eco
nomy in the management of house
affairs. It matters not whether a man
furnishes'little - or much for his family,
if there is a continued leakage in his
kitchen or 'parka.; 'it runs away, he
knOwa not how - , and the demon. Wait 6
cries "More P' like the horse-lee,ch's
: daughter; until he that,. provided has
,no more to give. It is he husband's,
'duty to bring into the house; and it
`is the 'duty of the wife to see that
none' goes wrongfUlly out of it.
-than = gets a wife to look after his
affairs, and to assist him in his journey
through life, to educate and prepare,
their children for a proper station
in life ; and not to dissipate
.his pro
perty. The husband's interest should
be the wife's Care, and her greatest am
bition to carry her no further than his
welfare or happiness_ ; , together 'with
that of her children. This should be
her" sole aim, and the- theatre of her
exploits is the - "boican of her family,
where she may do as much. towards
making a fortune as he Can in the
counting-room or the work-shop. It
is not the, money earnell that makes a
man wealthy, it is what he saves' from
his earnings. Self-gratification in dress,
or indulgence in appetite, or more
company than his purse can well
entertain, are equally pernicious.
Scientific American.
;PRAYER A CHARACTERISTIC OF MAN.
Alone of all beings here below man
prays. Among his moral instincts
there is none more natural,' more uni
versal, 'more unconquerable than,
prayer. The`child' inclined to it with
a ready docility. The old man recurs
to it as a refuge against decay and iso
lation.. Prayer ascends from young
lips;ich can hardly 'murmur the
name of GOd, and ficim dying lips which
have scarcely - strength to pronounce it.
Among every people, famous or ob
scure, civilized or barbarous, we meet
at every step with acts and forms tof
invocation. Wherever men live, in
certain circumstances,' at certain hours,
and under influence oflicerta,in im
pressions of soul, the eyed are elevated,
the hands join themselves, the knees
bend, in order, to implore or render
thanks---tondpre or, to appease. With
transport or .with :trembling publicity,
or in the secret of his "'heart, it is to
-
prayer that man'apphes as lastthee
source to fill the void of his soul, or to
help him to bear the burden of -hiss
destiny. ;; It is in - Prayer that he seeks,
when, everything else fails him, .sup
port for his'iteakness,' c,onsolation in
his sorrows, hope for his virtue.—
Guizot. -
WHAT A DUMB GIRL SAID ABOUT
PRA.YER.-A little deaf and dumb girl
,was one day asked by a lady, who
wrote the question on a slate, "What
is prayer?"
The little girl took her pencil and
_wrote in reply, "Player is the wish, of
the hear, t." .
And so it is. All fine, words and•
_
beautiful - verses said. to' God do not
make real prayer without the sincere
wish of the heart.
ARCTURUS.
.BY REY. J. E. ALEXIS
Arcturus, radiant, treads his round
Among the camp-fires of the sky;
I, pacing oaths frozen ground,'
For home's forsaken pleasures sigh.
Arcturus sees what I cannot, -
The country town where I was horn;
The lamp within my mother's cot;
Theefield-that lately waved with Corn.
Aretnrui sees the parish spire
That glimmers in the - wintry noon";
TheThell; tliat rings for church and fire
For nine at night, and twelve at noon.
Arcturus re eta a =Oen eye,
Who gazes till her
,eheeks are wet;
Who wonders ifTlive or die,
And prays that I may 'love her yet.
Could I but take his beat to -night,
And he exchanging coineto mine,.
No radiant star should shi more bright.
Or more reluctantly decline. .
THI HONEST MORAVIAN.
In the last war in Germany v a cap
tain of cavalry was out .on a - foraging
party. On perceiving a cotteg,ein the
midst of a solitary valley, he went up
and knocked at the d.oor. Out came
one of the Moravians, or United.
Brethren, with a beard silvered by age_
"Father," says the officer, " show me
a field where I can set my troopers a
foraging." " Presently," replied the-
Moravian. The good old man walked
before, and conducted them out of the
valley.
After a quarter of an hour's march,
they found a fine field of barley.
"There is the very thing we :want,"
says the captain. "Have patience for
a few minutes," replied his guide;
"you shall be satisfied." They went
on, 'and at the distance of about a
quarter of a leagne farther, they ar
rived at another field of barley. The
troops immediately dismounted, cut
down the grain, trussed it up, and
remounted. The Officer,. upon this,
says to his conductor, "Father, you
have given yourself and us unneces
sary trouble ; the - first field was much
better than this. •"Very true, sir,"
replied the good old man, "but it
was not mine."
GOD'S PLAN OF YOUR LIFE.
Never complain of your birth, your
employment, your hardships; never
fancy that you could be something if
you only had a different lot and sphere
assigned you. God understands his
own plan, and he knows what you
want a great deal better than you do,
The very things 'that you most depre
eate as fatal limitations or obstructions,
are probably, what you most want.
What you call hindrances, obstacles,
disCouragements, are probably God's
OpPortunities• and it is nothing new
that the patient should dislike his me
dicin:ei, or any certain proof that they
are poisons. No! A truce to all such
impatience. Choke the envy which
gnaws at your heart, because you are
not in the Sallie, lot with others; bring
down your soul, or rather bring it up,
to receive God's will, and do his work,
in your lot and sphere, under your
cloud of obscurity, against your temp
tations, and then you shall find that
your condition is never opposea to
your good, but consistent with it.—
Dr. Bushnell.
LADIES' ,NAMES.
Mary, Maria, Marie, (French,) signify
exalted. According to some, Mary
'means lady of the seas; Martha, inter
preted, is bittern6ss; Isabel signifies
lovely; Julia and Juliet, soft-haired;
Gertrude, all truth; Eleanor, all fruit
ful ; Ellen, originally the Greek Hellen,
changed by the Latins into Hellene,
sio - nifies alluring, though, according to.
Greek authors, it means one who pities.
The intrpretation of Caroline is - regal;
that of Charlotte is a queen; Clara,
bright or clear-eyed; Agnes, chaste;
Amanda, amiable; Laura, a laurel ;
Edith, joyous ; Olivia, peace ; Phoebe,
light of life; Grace 7 favor ; ; Sarah or
Sally Sophia 'isdom •
'ally, a princess; aophia, wi —,
kitelis: and Amy, beloved; Matilda, a
noble maid;' Margaret, a, pearl; Re
becca, plump; Pauline, a little one;
Anna, Anne, Ann, and Nancy, all of
which are the same original name, in
terfireted; means gracious or kind;
Jane signifies dignity; Ida, the morning
star ; Lucy, brightness of aspect ; Louisa
or Louise, one who protects; Emma,
tender; Catharine„ pure; Frances or
Fanny; frank or free; Lydia, ''evere;
Minerva, chaste.
PUNCTUAL WORSHIPPER'
In the published journal of the late
Mr. George Richardson, of Newcastle
on-Tyne England, we find a pregnant
,
hint that:ought to be attended to by
thok who 'allow theruselVes in a habit
which is, in most 'cases, so inexcusable
and So ..easy of correction:—
",Those who cone late to the house
of God deprive - .themselves of that
covering of divine love with which the
meeting may have been favored. They
also disturb the quiet of those who have
come 'punctually. There is reason to
fear that the practice proceeds from
the want of true love to God, and of
zeal for the promotion of His glory.
Hence,, when snehpersons do come, no
Wonder if they-Nave to sit in a dry,
barren:frame of mind, without deriving
much comfort, refreshment, or strength.
Let us examine the cause wherefore
it is thus."