family
THE WATCH AT THE SEPULCHRE.
■ THE < KISTIJEIOSr.
• ‘ . • "4
“From east to west I’ve march’d beneath ; the
W> ' : eagles; -■ ” .
From Pontus unto Gaul,
Kept many a watch, on which, by death ,sur
. rounded,
I’ve seen each comrade fall.
Feiar! I conld laugh until these rocks re
echoed, i . b <■
To think that I should fear— '
Who have 'met death in every form unshrink
-*■ ■ - - - -Uiing“.... ,v ...... ,
To watch this dead man here.
In Dacian forests sitting by our watch-fire
I’ve kept the wolves at bay;
On Bhetian hips escaped the ice-hillß hurling j
Close where Our legion lay.
On moonless nights upon the sands of Libya,
T I’ve satwith shield firm set
-And heard the lion roar; in this forearm
The tiger’s teeth have met.
I was star-gazing when he stole- upon me,
Until I felt his breath,
And saw his jewel eyes gleam ; then he seized
’■ . ...me
And instant met his death.
Myweapop in his thick-vein’d neck I buried,
My feet his warm blood dyed; ,
And then I bound my wound ana till the mofn
. ing - ! - -■ \ /
Lay coach’d upon his side.
,'Here, though, the stars are veil’d, the peaceful
, city
'- ,J Lies atour feet asleep. ’
Round us the still -more peaceful dead are lying
‘i, .... In slumber yet more deep.
A' low wind moaning glides among the olives
Till every hill side sighs.; .
But round us' here' the moaning seems-to muster
And gather where He lies. ;:
And' through' thellbarkneßS faint, pale gleams
• . are flying/ ■ . - •• ■ 'j .
That'touch the hill alone"; . ‘ "
Whence thesb unearthly lights'? and whence
.the shadows /
TJhat move upon the stone!
If the. Olympian Jove awoke in thunder,
His great eyes T could meet ;
But hisVifonoe again they'look’d upon me/ i -j
Would strike me to his feet. ! .
He look’d as if my brother hung-there bleeding,;
. And.pnt my soul to shame; -
As if my mother with his eyes was pleading, '
And pity overcame; ' -.'a ' .'
Bat corifii not save: He who in death' was
hanging
- On the accursed tree,
Washethe Son ofGofl? for so in dying'"'
1 :V ' M Heseem’d to die for me. 1 ,,
And all my pitiless deeds came tip before me,
.Gazed at me from Iris-face :
What if he rose again, and I, should meet hjm I
How is this place!" ' , ;:
—EdinbufghSunday Magazine.
TQ WHOM-IT MAY -CONCERN, i
Your sympathies aye not. tyith what
is termed Christian society.. You! pre
fer a greater latitude of thought, .
and action than Christian . society: is *
supposed .to....tolerate... You love the
Christian element in society so far as ;
it is required to secure decency and
propriety, but no further: and you
feel that a manly • carrying out -of your
1 ‘supreme” cld'fihs.of
Christianity" wquld lead to a sudS’en oi]
gradual severance frorh ; the meii'Whpse
society 'you prize the most ‘highly.
You cannot bear to incur the 'suspi
cion of being '‘‘ eohyerted;” : of being'
“thought' •womanish and 'weak, an ob
ject for charitable cohfempt. 5 Youde-'
light in praise, and* the' good-will of
everybody; and j'oii have 1 friends;
among all ’sorts' of people.' ‘ 'Thb'gopd'.
'p’eople’praiSe y'oii, and , febl U! t i ßat' : thcy
may elaiih’ ,a,maUof yo'ur upright hab-.
its and pure life.; THe bad
praise yOu, ! fbr yOdi-dife is.nbb&ndem-'
' najAOhr'of their own, ‘ahd u 'ybh :
their position the mcfre’ respectable by j
yOu practichr'dehiSl 'of‘dh'ey'ciainiis' : cSf :
religion: The last, &m'6hg , whoni you
•'•ißhd : ydur;mbst ! 'biph|iEmiid 'friends,; are 1
they whoSe bhhtersfhd |i>adihagei'whose.
' <j[uiet smiles and Cohtefh'pthous "cjom-'
'unsefation rise up in ypur ima’gi'nation
";fo shame and scare'you when'you are,
ulrdbst compelled fo yield/to ybur bbh : '
‘victions. : Mas, that'hiimah friendship,
so very sweet,' so glbriJ^irig; / tb* life,
" should sO often stand ■ih the’way of
' human’weal! A mah’S life flows-ulodg
"with ; the 'current of his friendships,
and'if he finds that his inostbonigeniali
associates'are men wh6 : 'are h’egatiyely;;
oir positively, irreligious] he need \ not,
test further the"'state of' his 'oivn J heart.
If your'most'intimatei t ’ffihn i d'sffips'; aje..
'' aiftopg such, ! and ! if yoii y ’shrink" frpm
thoSe ’whom 1 ' you ’know’ ’to
you that'religion in' which I 'your par
ents liybd holilv and diedtriumph'antly,
you 1 may be quite sure that^"ou 3priic
tically hold that religion in very light
esteem. ' " na : i.
'But ' you are-'held to your present
courge by at least another anchpr as,
strong as friendship hhd 'cbhgenial.gpr ,
ciety. ''Busiheri; ‘with all the'bbmplj.-
Cated interests it has introduced into
■ybdr life, dissuaded' yotf frpm yielding
to your '‘convictions. Here you are'
thrown ‘among men as ‘ honorable ' ais
yOurself, and upon whom. 1 you are, to
a certain extent, dependent,' who' hold
'Christianity,' and those who profess
Christianity, ’at the cheapest possible
rate. The faith 'Which ‘dwelti in
ybur mother is the object of a contempt
which you fancy you could hot bear
to have associated with yourownself.
Your ‘business associates, when they
do hot tempt you and accustom' your
ear to ebarse profanity, surround you
with' the stifling, poisonous atmosphere
df sordid, grasping, unmitigated world
lihesS, 'and with bhsiness thoughts and
schdmes, which break .in upon your
dondestic quiet and your Sabbath rest,
and your present anomalous position
renders you specially vulnerable to
such damaging influences, . Your busi
ness associates 1 know that you ' have
never declared yourself on the side of
Christianity, and they are not obliged
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 1865.
to respect it in your'presence. If eyray
word thev speak isnstabko ~your,ear-,
liestattdfng; §,u
musi;end|ir|it:;i _ Yok ait! 1 ile<3§mzpdVi
by them aaj6f ith&r fraternity, and yet, j
m\e whi®Pi aie to" make :
yourself believe that you are a Chris
tian. Yon, a man too honorable to
iDetray-anyuther-cause —ndtu ..
you yqurself identified,jhow
ever low it feirin the world’s esteem ?
Heanwliile iEe"greater part of the act
ivities of your nature are giv.enyto
business responsibilities, which are not i
soiiiicoiigeTiiai-to-yoTiTTiaxiire asungfiti
be, siigppsed, for-they offer, a Spiel ~;tpj
yourambition, as well ■ as the !■
mentis ; of, wealth-,,.Business, blendingj
with all' your waking thoughlis,' ob
trudMg itself eveiij£tmoiag yburTpbihl
enjoyictfents, and in' ypur ‘dreams, has
k monopoly pf your taldnts and' vital
ity,' and' practically fills your sbul.-
You are no longer the- man you were.'
The pursuit of.pelf, however the pur
suit is disguisedj. ip beginning to pat
,the sunshine and expansiveness,
of ypur nature. It is deadening ypur
better self,, and is shutting.out from your
health, blessed guesvcompelling Him
to sit in* the ante-rboih,
in the bold society of your slighted
convictions” ; 4 ••" •"■' ■'s. ■■~- ; Ci “
' r And thus your life "is narrowing,
'and your heart is hardening,-:and daily'
you axe*:more •impotent, (fora action,* in
the-right direction. Your old friend
ships jw»d yp,pr., business .asspeiatipns,-
;have. fasteppd to ypp, by : .
books ybiien ’you ’are less and less able
'to Tear' away u lbe pu/e’' sunny,"gen
erous boy/ with aspirations on which
an angel might’ smile, is growinginto
a man whb is nol ongershbeke'd by'Un'
oath, to 1 whom vulgarity is= r deereas-*
•ingly offensive,: whor, can tolerate the
ridicule.of purity and goodness*Mho'
looks yith s unwbplesome leniency of
(indiffergngGjUpon tihe vices of his?fel
lpwmen,;aml who. is, learning- to be-,
heye'tbat out ofThe dry barren soil jof'
worldliness some pleasant fruit mayyet
grow ; and all the * while that ypur
cohvictipfis'bFdufy are stronger than
'ybu‘ wohld-h r ave themj’your heart and'
life 'axe'beeoming more estrangeds&om s
yieldifig to them. Habits are strength- f
lening as difea-R.dyanoes^busine^i ; Garea?
,inopease l fever. of qompeth"
tipn,andinoral conviction is growings
Weaker under the, influence of perpetj
ual insult’and' 'disregard. All' imngs;
are agitinst you. ' The ’world which
rushed'past you, but from which ypur
bonvictiohs have done their slighted
besttb-separate you, is a world .mad ’
iafter baubles, staking life carelessly
and gaily* content to eat and drink to
day, and die to-mqrrow; and just be
cause men are born, and die, and the
world is not seriously ,moved by either
event, and, because men sleep and eat,'
and' ioYe and hate, and indulge their
ambitib > n,'a.bd’display , theif wealth aS
'lFGfbd’si' Were fi really only 5 “a
sfage, and ' all the men ; and women
merelyplayers*” this life is comingtp,
be to you merely as a drama,; unreal,
brilliant, insignificant. ...And men die,.
and there comes back no voice to tell
‘‘whether they sleep with the brutes,
or wake with the angels.”, .
, ,: most truly object, for
pity—you> loved,
You. feel your’ 'fetters ; "anffThere ‘kre ;
'.times when the loye'-linked slier e<T
memories of your youth - have power '
iTo makfe‘you ! web]T ’ You fefel 5 a%lf j the
mtiS'heiiS of a : buge net'were closing
■toun d you, as' if obstacles were walling,
you; in, and that your own nature is,
'diverging from its early,training, and
is. accommodating itself to the life you.
lead. Yet yoUjare a. mpn pf
honor,, a ; ,man , tp. whopi a yneaii and'
unmanly ' spirit “is as repulsive as -'a”
’’mean apd'nnmaiiy L^ed. 1 Hf in! the 1
'late" election" k Tnan ‘ who,
for ahyTbasbu whatevbr'gave'Ms* ydtei'
at variance with his :, life4ong -political;
convictions, you despised himv > If a
man on anyngreat public question fails,
to plant himself ■ou the,: side,; ofnHjght,,
i pr ,to priyate in
terest, you thjnk him an . unwprthy’
man. - If a, ( man whom yon know to
be the subjejot 1 ©! strong cbnyictions on
any 'public subject pronounces’ thcmsp l
feebly that bbth paxties clhntohite*,iyqu.
think him a mean man!' By'iypur
own standard you : must be judged > and
condemned. * It is mean andunwbr-
/thy in you, with ; your strong ..convlc/
tions on the, ; .most;, important, subjeoti
which can occupy .the human so.ul, to:
refuse tp, stand, by and act up to these
convictions, It is unmanly in ydu'.tb,
refuse to identify yourself with the
C.hristiah .Church) 'aid',' to 'forward the
CausC of the ChHstian'rChgibn.,'while
you-' are Content’ to be claimed as.a
- Christian by those -whom yoh know
and feel ito be in the-right. There ire
mains nothing to be done; towards
shaping the judgment of your head
f and heart,,but .while your better na
ture. . dictates, , your worse, nature
flinches from obedience, and your
manliness succumbs to a-pitiful expe
diency and ldve of ease,—something
whispering all the' time that there is no
room in your present Crowded exists
ence fori those experiences and those
deeds which would accompany the
surrender of your life to your convic
tions. •
In these remarks there is no.attempt
to convince you of anything, or even,
to deepen your convictions—these com
victions which are still strikingto gain
the control of your life. The lapse of
every day renders it probahle that
you 1 will ultimately yield to them, and
helps to debase and deform that fine
i- jft
nature which God gave you. Rengioujs
. may .n|ge c you 4o .the' samf-
T by: supßf&
( they think appropriate ; to' yotir case.-
. another may urge you to 1 be true to
ySnr better nature, to hear the voice
Traw^froifl^ 8 to with
■tral ground which is exposed to the
full sweep of the Divine contempt and
indignation—to be _ a Christian, man,
and'to Mhel h;.consisfent, iha.nlyi un
t ..which,
Apart
| from all that -■creeds teacjh iconcerning'
i th.e .doctrine', of “ ,total djepravity;” we. ■
j know that it is -not mt<wmZ r ,;for,-us, to
lead rehgious iiYes>and.keep .ourselves
imspptted from'the,-vvoriil. The fasci
nations of thh■ visible are Jelt^ the at- ;
tfactioiihbfi thieUnvikiblel are only be-'
!; lieved, and it ih with but T lame hands
1 Of faith” thSt the best amtong us prac
tically grasp 1 the truth, that'the things
whichjare not-seen' are ethrnal. It is
hard to be swayed by the,unseen, hard
;to change the motive, aims, .and
; and.the direction of your life, even
with .the,, advantage of your strpng cpn-.
vicfions.' It is, cowardly and: wrong
for a mail of your convections* not to
be a s Chri’stian ; hiit' if it.bad been easy
to be one/God knows you'would hate
been'ohe' long ago-; ‘and bard : as itfis,‘
it is becoming harder every "day;/ It
is easy ifor a man to talk off the ease
and pleasantness of the path :of life, as
,if the antagonistic- will could;
be, readily subdjaed, b,ut of
of .God, .sphahsi’-differeritly. „There is
no ease .abourthe Christian life, lit is
h leif-Senial, Spd’rifiee,';hert | ismj*
fighting/ of ignoble defeats and* piftihl
yidtoiSSs, of stumbling tfell nigHf uhto;
falling^'buvfit is the* only way into ,
"God.’s: kingdom/fand ft is certain that,
Heso aids'-human weakness , witii Di
vine strength that none shall-itJterly;
fail.,. your cqnyjctione,i£fs un
manly, and cowardlk..ta,sbrlniß.from
the struggle. _ that .the*
fiWy £ ybu /mahe the jmanly.
decision aS to whom" * you will serve,:,
’will be L worth all the days that have,
gone ' before' it; and ‘ that : the things,
whicb in* that* day ydu for Christas sake'
bhall count; as loss, shall be exchanged’
for .glory, honor, and immortality, and
thgienduring.crown pf righteousnes in
great ,^>f v His . appearing.— -Dr.
mri&s Magazine. y
xiiilE hoi
Some, ten. qr more learsago, t I wa§j
eni^qTC^jtp ) {pxa t mmeJth.e,title. ? of a par-''
cel of land in ln mak--
ing my investigation, Ifoundthat one
of the prior grismfors, 'through whom
my -clieiitiderived his title,Chad,possess
ed only an estate, for' life, and could,
not,,. tnerefOjTe,. legally, convey, any
greater estate. .He had supposed,
however, that he possessed an estate in
’fee,. which ‘is* iff fawj ? a f larger eltat'e:
lie attempt
ed to’ convey if -as such to* bis<grafotee,
This transaction • occurred '< sw-Heni
the value of: the land .'was only. some
few hundred:dollkrs. .|.At the, : .timfe of
. however,., a =, large
to wn had bqen built up,,
aroun,d tpej&nd, and had greasy in-,
creased its value. i 1 ... ■
disepyenhg defect in?
iny ;cheht v s. : tlilbj ! ll becam’e v very' desirfs
hbletoknow'in wh'Pm fhW'dpgal title'
tofhC land - vested. ' "After many and.
carefuh inquiries, I found that a, young
man in Peterboro, !NxH., was the legal
owner; • <1 also. aseertaiued,: that the.
young man did not know that he was,
of|the ljand, i
, _ s After my client, I
\veht fo Beterbdro to ‘do the best for,
nim'thlLt ’I I sb‘6h bfeca'me ae-
’Wiffi fhe ;i y’6hng ; man, and
afteFCErcfully obslivihgi hiin,' and; re-'
fleeting onfall the cirbum'Stances oftlie !
case,- I felt convinced'that I could best'
promote the interest? of my client by
. unfolding-’ ; the<, whole; ? matter to thm
.young man, and leaving it to, him to
. aptj.a? he think jl ac-ij
ppr,flingiy. statebt tliC.Wh.oiecasp to.bim,,
‘‘'Well, what do you want me to do,?”
L replied that Mr. T.» my client,'would
him,, . “ Jlave you - such a deed , made
oufcfomme to sign he asked, “ Yes,”
T : ans'weredyEnd r prdd:u<sCd ; ' i it;' 1 -He rCaid
it' carefdlly ‘ through, " let
us.gp.ove'r to —', a justice of the
jpeacef ’ fW e did so; There he execut-;
; ed ; the deed, acknowledged' ‘it before
'’t'he„: justi.Ce, and delivered' to me.;
t‘,Hpw ; .’’ ; ,said he,,tell me what the
present-value of the. land is; .-? I would
nbt make this inquiry before I- sighed
th;e depd, lest I should be hindered
from doing what) was right; but notr I
should like to know the value of the'
property I have parted;with.’ ’ I told
him; it was* estimated at from fourteen
to twenty thousand dollars. He said
that he hoped that it would have made,
no difference with him in-signing the.
deed, whatever the value of the land
might'have been, but that be’ didnot
wish to inquire till he had placed him
self beyond the reach of temptation,
fPr he wanted to do whait Was right.—
Christian Register.
Too Often So-—Let the inmate of
a family be too sick to come, *to the
table, an anxiety is felt for him; but
let him for years not come to the com
munion table, and no concern is ex
pressed. Let his spirit desert his body,
and the family put on mourning; but
lCt him be as dead to divine things as
if His spirit was deserted by the Holy
Spirit, and there is no lamentation.
' ' THE OLD MAN ENTERTAINED. "
* 'The day was
'winds rushed furiously, d|
the earth was covered-with ice, ana-the
sbene was one offtsheerless- jdesoliitioiK
In the sweet country, where roses and
verdure had filled the air of summer
mer away, and with his .chilling breath
had frozen every beautiful thing."
- The -gusts“of wind causedridie "bKndr
tpccreakjand loose hoards ato swing,
w ! heh”a ‘lady opened her front ddor to
}sBaK?rfcatWw^
mighty, tempest, She looked, out, she
hardly knew 'why, but. jthe sight' she
saw tran; fixed her gaze.
“ There h ! thl§ : strdet before her door
stood an fid : man> with his silvery’hair
streaming in the wind, his clothes thin
and old, khileby the aid of a cane he 4
was struggling to stand on the smooth
ice,with [that fearful . wind sweeping
against Him., As.jthe lady opened;,her
door, hejturned towards her. and en
deavored to step that way. She watched’
him a; motnent as he tried to speak to
fier and to come towards'her. ‘
'“■He is certainly intoxicated;” the
lady thought; and suddenly closing'
her door, she wentbackintd her warm
sitting-room; When she reached the;
window, she saw that he hadstopped,.
and;was,lo,oking at the closed door; in
.despair. . N f o .anger was,,in. his thin
face, but a’, look, of suffering, and of
disappointment '■ Putting Jhis/cane
upon 'the hard ice ' again, he turned 1
back?tb 3 ttie toad:' ■■ 1 : • •' 1 V ‘ l • \ 55
The lady watched his uncertain; steps,-
and soon she;,, pitied him. His frame ■
shook with the cold, and hisbenumbed .
hands could scarcely grasp his heavy- ,
staff. It wits more than a quarter of a
: mile to the next house, arid' every step
of' the way was “ glare ice.” How
• could ,;he/ever get there ? The lady 1 s
grew; .ashamed. - "Of what am I
.afraid ?”,—she asked -herself—" Of; &
poor pld who is .so.feeble. h e nan
scarcely.stand?” „,.. 7 ,;
. “ But,” something whispered, “tper-,
haps he is no't so‘feeble as he pretends.
Hemay beintCxicateti; that"'is ivhy ;
‘hb f is on this retired rSad bn adbylike j
this. 5 ‘lf you. take him ; in and warm
him; he‘ may prove to be-ugly.” The'
;evil counsel prevailed,? and the. lady ;
watched him till she saw him nearly
fall. Then spoke again, “ Poor
old man; he,.can neyer?walk to the >
next house; he will surely-perish, and
I sHaU be responsible for bis death. < I
* must not iekve iifia' ioi die arid go into
[’eternity Unprepared.” 1 f-,
Again she opCned 'the &obr> and
again'the? old’ man tumed tbWardS'ber.
He:tried to walk> but the ice; and: the
wind.were against\him.‘ The ■fiady’M 1
pity,grew strong, and flying doym^her l
path, she offered him her ~ hand,. „ BEe
took it, and she. was.shocked at M 3 be T
nuinbed situation. ‘ Tendeyly sne ied :
him into the house dud placed him in ■
ajpbalr 'before th'e f warib * Then !
khe removed his 1 cap-khd thihbfi.tte‘ns,
and Sat 'down beside him, watching; io
see whefcherbewas'really-intoxicated,
as she had imagined. vb'.-ro %
, >. "Ithank you,-lady,” .he said,; ip ‘a
Igeptlpybice. i/'l.thpjaghtli'ssas about'
~tp,,perish, but,the^or£ > .has: provided
.for me. - The Lord brought me to your
door that you might help me.”. V
A How the. lady’s heart;■ rebuked ■ her.:
Instead of being ’a drunkardj he r was
one' 'of " the’ Lor d’e chosen' ones. • * Wibat.
if skc‘hadTermitted ! hiM tb ! die? ; SHe‘
-_ n :l^[fei4''c6id-%r , Vbtf ) lto l^, but;tb- 1!
;day,”:jsirb|p.id;.‘' •.
V.[ “I .know,j it, madam, [but;,T .have
.cpme aTlb i pg @l way.rio’'.see s prd.[%ieiB!k
The stsige leftime iat.tbecorner-,baeki
, Jiere, andjl have.walked .tjie, rest of -the)
way. IjEsupppse Xhayp reached
my friend’s "house.*. He .is old,'tike
m'e, and'lor’many.years I’liave not;
«
! 1 '; " l ‘W'hat’ ; ik s'bur"friShd’s : naine?” I
'■ ;
I “’Witiiam: Smitti !”• the ladyl
jl Wihy<-he lives inoithe rvpiy uext
J house? ‘ He is a dear; .good old-man':”--
, yes,”: answered;-thej visitor,, “he:
was always . Perhaps you,.have,
heard him.speak of me. ily naineids.
Jacob Snow!’’ /" !
, The lady held her breath.. “'Jabcib,
Show'!” she, repeated, “ Are you the
former benefabtor ’of John Towle, iny’
'husband’s father'?” 5 ■ •. - v
EOT. '
“'Yes," the old man replied, “I
knew John Towle ; ; but 1 •: could not
befriend any one now; for, I have lost
my property, and I am too old tp, get
more.” f ,
“ Stay with us. then,” said the lady,
overwhelmed at the thought that; she
had been tempted to let the good man
perish.' " , 5 . ’
' ' Soon her husband came' inland the
next day, when' the : old mail went to
visit'his Mend/he 'was carried in a
nice sleigh/ and lovingihands adminis
tered to his wants. His gratitude, his ,
fervent piety and deep humility were
a rich reward for the lady’s kindness.
She loved to listen to his holy conver
sation, and felt that she had indeed en
tertained “ an angel unawares.”
“ Cast thy bread upon the waters/
and thou shalt find it after many days/” 1
said the .old man. “ Little did I think
when I saved the farm of John Towle,
in the time of his distress, that his chil
dren would nourish me in my old age.”
“ Never close your doors upon way
farers,” the lady often observed to her
friends, “ nor judge them too harshly,
for by your kindness to them a great
blessing jxfsy come td ,J! you, as there'
haffb-me.' Theblessihg of the Lord’s
poor is better than gold.”— Messenger.
GRANDPA’S j
.Sk®Jjathfered,aroitods|hej;opd man! a chair, ■“
Charlie andrftobby and Vfcll McNfcr,
Annie' and Gracie and bfell i^^utere^
Wifli Jessie, the pet/of the cipa|.hawf
Who climbed upon grandpa-s knee.
“Tell ns a story, please, grandpa, doy 1 ’"
Said Annie, behind his chair ;
“ Something 'wonderful; ssmething - hew,
And I’ll braid your hairin a Chinese-queue;
“ But let the story be All,'all true,'”-
—Said. Charlie and Will MpNair.
Dear grandpa’s brow had the amber glow
' Of Indian-summer time,
Ere life t| in_the glass rnns 10w;... ,
"Ere-daffineas-comes with the winter snow, ; ?
Qr t glad_ ear catehes jhejmurmurTow,
That "tells ofa brighterclime.'
■■ her
He told the .tale that all Hearts shonld more,
Of the-tlor'd bf'life and light-;
How he left his shining home" above
To save the lost by his, wondrous love ;
How’the Spirit came as a holy 36ve,
[ v With her wings of spotless white:
Of prayersithat hallowed l Mount Olivet; 1;
, jHbWithe.storm surge,., ,
And pldwed.the barquejlwith her torn sails wet,,
The‘ , w#athfdl 7 BreaS¥df i ljFeiihisaret;-
And sterol hope inthe lleartriiad set,
’While the wild winds shrieked a dirge:
.: j l j
Of,the Form, that walked jthe waves will,
As erst ’heath'the. olive shade; ,
Till the gentle whisper, “ Peace, be still/”
Sends, gudden joy, yet of ’■
And Jesus’ accents the rapt s.onl fill—
; “'lfis' sr<nB/” aJ !?;! J
He told how the worn 'fij&t'paused at last
;onOfi Calvhry’s awftl teow;;ii;
t ,Ofjaepff and.jeer,,atfthe gjptogjfrCffitHnh)-
How heaven and earthlooFed on aghast^
' How ; tajdess night'o’er the visibh passed * i
That gladdens pur spirit now,, f -
o’ei; our ; younglhej|rts fell
As the death scene rose to new;
We lingered’ long ’neath the hallowed spell—
“ For Jhe dear luord’s-Fakewho loved - bo well,
: Dear children,, trust thfit ; tele I tell
Is a truth: He 'died, for ijou. ”
YOUR-SISTERS.
Boys, whether'large or small, ought
to' be very 'lcind'tp their sisters, espec
ially if ! the sister is : younger than they
1 are. Girlsare not so “Strong as boys,
and theyhave more gentle dispositions;
andiso they diould Jbe'tneated tenderly.
i IBa boy and; hisj-jlittle sister are
.coming into the, ,r L o,om; jogetber, is it
right for the ; boy run forward and
; get ,the ; best seat?" No, no. He should
goTorward and offer" it to his sister. If
picifare-T>obkcomes, into the
house/ is it right forthebby to seize it
first; because be is the largest and
strongest, and in’ake his sistet WSit-un
.til he has seen it as much as he wishes
itobefore he gives it to her ?' Surely noi
If his .sister is out in< the yard play-:
ing with him,, and she’s afraid of the
dog, t is it nght ' ior him to ’make be
lieve set the dog on on purpose to
tease/her? No,' no. Such obnduct is
Vbrjb thoughtless and cruelr He should
take her byßhehand, and^show her
how pleased Rover- is to be patted on
thebead. biw n "■
! Boys -should always be very con
siderate of, their little-; sisters. . They
should wait for, them, and help, them,
apd speak kindly to them, and remem-,
‘her that God. has made them stronger
’in [order to betlieir protectors,— Child's
p'gpK\"...
WE' TENTH bOMIMNiMENT.
x • .
' ■' Thou shalt hot covet/” said all the
boys'in a breath; and then each
repeated-it from beginning to end. ■
- . “-That means .you-musn’t ;wish for
things that- don’t belong to; you,” said
Frank, ;
Ifdon^see hoiy you can help it!”
. exclaimed Sam, “ I see heaps of things.
everyday* that I yrant.” ' '
. ‘ “Tbere/are - two ways of wishing,”
exflaimOd rs the' 'tbacher.'- “W<j may
wish for things which we cannot' gOt
! but -in an 'imptbper and , 'dishonest way,
! or wre may wish for'things which l <We
•can askfor,i or buy, or team: 1 ’ lOne way
•is .wiongpiahduthe* other .right. One
.way wilL-.make us industrious . and.
careful,..in order to obtain- what ,we
,wanj; ;r otth,er, will lead to dis
_ I.will tell ypu'a
sfcorjr to. explain tins. ‘
l‘was /tehehihg' scbiool litf
one hflerbobtfl piif sdmCThbiey'
into irijf desk. 2 There wasa bill; aiid a
‘silver-fi'vh'-eenti pi'eoei '- At recess the
jschdlars' vplayedatoijch-ahd-runini the
jroomirlwMyt dfesk was a little way open; :
.and|thetboys, as. they ran past it, could
, see. .that, little,, piece of iQjpney, which
was new and bright. One boy, named
Waldo, sfppped and looked atit. That
made him Want it, I supposej for after'
: He' had 1 run* past the desk three 1 of four
times, I saw him put in his hand slyly,
and take it out, and slip it into his
pocket. What, commandments had he.
broken, so ..far, boys ?”
“He coveted,and broke the tenth;
and stole, and broke the eighth,” said
Sam. / - j-'i. ..
. “I had'seen him'take the money;
mit I wanieil him'a chance to
he sorry, ; £fnd bdnfess his fault; and so,
'before 1 sehbol w'a's ’ dbne; I tbld the
scholars of the'money I had lost, and
talked, to them of the great sin of steal
ings.. And. ..then I told them that I
wpulclwait after school, that the child
who had done the. wicked act might
come to me and own it, and return the
five-centpiece. But Waldo did not
come. He made his bow, put on his
’'cap, and walked off just like the l others.
©id he break any commandment
then?” -.LX : :
“The ninth,” said. Frank;
“ But he did not speak a word.”
“Never mind; he lied though.”
“ I thought I would go then to his
mother’s, and tell her abont it; for 1
felt sorry for Waldo, and was
wb'uia go on to steal more
and'more; T forurd her
It -was’ h6Tfr^te , ’&hdSl/4n& i thb 1
child had not got home yet, and, said
, shi,^ lt' is'rdf ’rulh fairmm- tbrfemae
i straight home from school, and he
i knot's it.-V/B.oyFha:d he?b F9^K> an^
I otfieforGod/s commandments? _ A „
I “ Tire fifth,” answered all the boys,
j "Yes, he had disobeyed his mother.
! Pretty’ soOn fe came in, his ! face- and
1 hands all' dan&C#itß%6lassescaudy.
|' Where / Vbii‘ ; fpJt candy ?’ asked his
1 mother. ' it .tome,
:haid Waldd^^^fehot chdd^
’ I am sure,’ said, I
i .believe you..bought,aß . with. the.. iiye
er’lhesk this afternoon.
“ He broke the ninth commandment
OVethgaiit/’isaid ii,. J>• ■ * -
“Certainly. Waldo looked at his
mother ahdthCnarmeVandburst out
i crying. ■ Boot fci&l! how sorry I felt
: for him, that he should have been led
j into so many sfcsJJ iAnd> dear boys,
| remember tbis story. If you break the
, i tenth commandment y6u‘will be Sure
■. to break others. JL good* -man., once
j said wo must neverwish for-aliything
! which we could not kneel down-and
i pray for. If we do thisTit’will bbsiire
ito keep us frojn usingjany wicked
. means to , obtain it.”— Freeslmdri. ■.
*. THE FAIRY PERSIE;
There was once a youth who/-Vith
several: of Ms . -companions,
to ;go on a long and difficult journey,
at itjtie- end; jof which they expected
high honors as a reward of their toil.
. Knowing the dangers and obstacles
in ‘ their way, before they: set forth
they invoked the aid of the Queen of
Fames. She hearing their invocations,
appeared and listened to their requests
for assistance. Calling, td,her servants
to appear she said, “ I will giveqnto
.each of you an attendant, who, thppgb
invisible, will alwaysbe at hand,, and
will render such assistance as may be
within her sphere. 'Choose
you, therefor^,'’as ! ihay seem to 1 you
best.” The youth who was' to be -leader
of the band’, chose the lfairy Persie.
One of his comrades . chose-.cthe jfairy
Gilda, who.was capable of showering
gold 8 on.thpse whom,, she-seryed ;
another chose . Couragia; mid so .on,
ea,ch chposing as pleased him ..best.
When ‘ they bad all * .chosen, wishing
them good luck; "the. at
tendants became once mdfe
and the youth and his comrades went
on their way pleased their good
fortune. They traveled bravely on
for a few days. The woods echoed
with their;.merry songs,; or rung yith
their joyous shouts. But the novelty
of the scenery now failed to please
them, ana the way became more
difficult. Then he who had chosen
Gilda received the benefit of his
His purse was overfilled with ‘gold,
and when weary he hired some peasant
to carry them on their way-; if hungry,
food was always forthcoming forvthe
glittering coin. But at last he became
weary of the journey, and, aidedr by
Gilda, be built, Mm a splendid pajace
by the wayside., . , ..I,‘ .
fie who choose Couragia soon be
came tired of this monotonous life,
and joined a company of soldiers who
were going to th’e'seat of war. Thus
one by one they gave* r up the journey
and at last he who had chosen Persie
was left plodding on his way alone.
He alone, after conquering the difficul
ties and dangers of that longand weary
, rway,, arrived safely, at his destination
and attained the high honors he strug
gled for so jwrseveringly.
Now, my young readers, would you
like to knoW ? who the fairy wad who
helped him ? I should like to tell ’you
more of the way she did so, in all* the
perils he encountered, so you might
guess. That 'fairy was Perseverance,
i and her aid: wer must, have in all our
undertakings, or fail. By persevering,
General. Grant, conquered Bee. “I
mil fight jt ojit on this line,” he said,
and fight it out he did, till surren
dered lus army, which other's less jper
'S&b'eririg had failed to cohqtler. - What
ever you' undertake, ‘persevere; and
sooner or later success will crown your
efforts.— Christian Mirror.
~ THE EARNEST USE OF LIFE.',
Let us think how little we use. life
thoroughly, how little we really live
our life, how seldom rie;&re in the hu
mor to carry out life’s great and solemn
purposes, how we let ita opportunities
fly by us, like thistledown on the wind."
Why are we not always denying our
selves, taking up the cross and follow
ing Christ ? Why. are ,we not always
on the watch for every occasion in
which a word may be said, or , a deed
done, or a thought thought, that shall
be a protest for. Christ, in this vain
and sinful world?" Why is God’s love
but a rare wintry gleam, and never a
steady summer in our soul? Think,
for instance, of such thing as prayer:
_what a wonderful and beautiful thing
it is! To kneel, an atom in creation,
at the throne of the Almighty; to be
able to bare our hearts to Him, and to
feel sure that the least throb, as well as
the greatest spasm, is perfectly appreci
ated, felt, understood, sympathized
with by that awful yet loving being.
_ And yet how wintry our heaTts are
in our prayers! how seldom they burst
into cheerful praises! how constantly
the sky above us seems: pale and heavy,
and dull and impenetrable, and our
hearts beneath abiding in their winter
slpep! Or ,if a snowdrop here, and
there.wanders oat, and now and then
a punched primrose, there are not flow
ers'enbdgh to fashion unto even the
poorest garland, x