1 61jt famitij
SPRING.
Cry Holiday ! holiday! let• us be gay, '
And share in the rapture of heaven and earth;
For see! what. a sunshiny joy they display,
TO welcome the Spring on the day of her birth ;
While the elements, gladly outpouring their voice,
Nature's ptean proclaim, and in chorus rejoice!
Loud carols each rill as it leaps in its bed :
The wind brings us music and balm from the
South,
And the earth in delight calls an echo to spread
The tidings of joy with her many-tongued mouth ;
O'er earth and o'er shore, over mountain and plain,
Far, far does she trumpet the jubilee strain.
Hark! hark to the cuckoo! its magical call
Awakens the flowerets that slept in the dells;
The snow-drop, the primrose, the hyacinth, all,
Attune at this summons their silvery bells.
Hush! Ting-a-ring-ting! Don't you hear how they
• sing?
They are pealing a fairy-like welcome to Spring.
The love-thrilling hedge-birds are wild with delight;
Like arrows loud whistling the swallows flit by ;
The rapturous larjc, l as he soars out of sight.,
Sends us sun-lighted melody do'wn from the sky
In the air that they all the feathery throng
Taste the spirit of Spring that outbursts in a song.
To me do the same vernal whisperings breathe
In all that I scent, that I hear, that I meet.
Without 'and within me, above and beneath,
Every sense is imbued with a prohecy sweet
Of the pomp and the pleasantness ehrth shall as
sume
When adorned, like a bride, in her flowery bloom
In this transport of nature each feeling takes part;
I am thrilling with gratitude, reverence, joy;.
Anew spring of joy seems,to gush from my heart;
And the man's metamorphosed again to a boy.
0 ! let me run wild as in earlier years;
If my joy be suppressed I shall burst into tears.
HORACE SMITH.
A WIPE'S VIOTORY,
BY REV. DR. TEN°
Many years since a gay and fashionable
pair lived near me and attended my min
istry. The wife was beautiful, social, and ad
mired. The husband was rich and worldly,
and delighted in the admiration, which, in
society, his wife received. They lived a
reckless, gay and worldly life. Except in
the worship of an occasional Sunday morn
ing, they knew nothing of religion, and cared
for nothing they heard even then.
But in the wonders of grace this gay and
fashionable woman was converted, and in the
most open and decided manner renounced
her life of folly, and cast her lot among the
followers of the Lord. Her sudden change
of life and purpose .intensely enraged her
unconverted .husband, who had no sym
pathy'lfvith her, and 'could not understand
her. He tried in every possible Manner to
overthrow her plans, and drive her from
her choice. He forbade her union with the
church in any personal act. He watched at
the entrance of the church-yard to prevent
her entrance by force. So far was this hos
tility carried, that, at last she found access
to the church for her appointed baptism
onlythroiigh the window in the rear. Thus,
matters went on for weeks, every day bring
in& some new. tidings .of his, violence and
her sufferings. How much their domestic
affairs were known to otherS, Lnever knew.
The people. and the generation have since
-passed away. There young children are
now mature, and several of them parents
themselves.
Some weeks of this new history had passed,
when late, one evening,
,after I ~had retired
to my chamber for. the night, my door-bell
was violently pulled,And. the messenger said
Mrs.- desired to see me at once. I
dressed myself and went, anticipating some
new scene of violence. The streets were
solitary and - still. As I ascended the steps,
the door . was quietly opened to me, and I
was directed to the parlor, where to my
surprise, T found the two sitting together on
the sofa, with no other' person present.--:-
The man looked up to me in an agony of
tears, as in astonishment. I sat down by
his side and asked an explanation.
" Oh, sir," he cried, " can I be saved; can
I be saved ?"
Q Yes surely." I answered • "but you
amaze me—what has led you to this ?"
" This angel," he replied with eagerness.
" You know how I hated her religion. But
yon do not know how I hated you. I thought
you the blackest of human beings. You had
broken up my happiness; you had destroyed
my peace; you had separated my family ;
you alienated my wife from me. I.' laid it
all to you. I was, intensely,enraged with
you. I have several times watched for you
at night with the intention of killing you.
—But it is all over now. I am thankful
to see,, you. But this angel wife—l have
cursed her ; -I have persecuted her in ever
way; I have beaten her; I have pulled her
down by her hair; and she has received it
all in silence and meekneas. She has never
said
,one-unkind word in reply ;• but she has
prayed for me, and loved me. And I can
stand it no longerl tam-miserable, because
lam so guilty. I have rebelled so horribly.
I have been loVed and . treated so affection
ately.—Can I'be saved?"
The wife sat silently and heard the whole,
and then gently said:
"My dear husband seemed so distressed
to-night, that I took.the liberty send for
you.
How fresh and vivid is that whole scene
before 'me ad I write, and all its incidents
and details, which I will not describe.
With what: delight did- I preach the Sa
viour's love to this lost one, thus aroused by
that love to see his own voluntary and ag
gravated guilt."
..We passed more ,than an hour :thus to
gether,, and closed our cenversation with
earnest. prayer. Blessed, indeed, was the
result!. The strong man armed had found a
stronger than he, who h ad taken from him all
his , armour wherein he trusted, and spoiled
his goods. Ile was subdued by love, con
THE. A.MEt . tICAN . . PRESBYITRiAN, I'HURSDAY, MAY 9,.1867.
verted by Divine Power. He, too, came
unto the Saviour's flock, and on the side of
Jesus.
How changed the mad one became, " sit
ting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his
right mind." He witnessed among us for
years
. a good confession, he was honored
and beloved in the church ;—a pattern of
gentleness and fidelity at home and abroad.
After some years of earnest Christian life
on earth, his course was finished and his rest
obtained. I have since hardly passed the
house in which they lived without recalling
to my mind this whole remarkable scene—
that powerful display of grace—that volun
tary wanderer, and the wonderful love and
mercy which in so much rebellion he re
ceived. He assumed all the responsibility
of the guilty wandering upon himself. He
learned to give all the glory of his recovery
to that amazing grace, which had plucked
him as a brand from the burning, and loved
him when he was dead in sins.
POWER OP A GENTLE REBUKE.
There is a power in. Christian words,
spoken in gentleness and love, that rarely
fails to impress itself, even on - wicked or
reckless men. If Christians had more cour
age and fidelity in speaking them, good re
sults - would be oftener witnessed. An ex
change tells an incident for whose truth it
vouches:
A number of passengers were discussing
the exciting questions of the day on board
a steamboat on one of our Western rivers.
Oaths were frequently heard; and one man
in particular,
in almost every sentence used
the name of his Maker in a most irreverent
manner.
Away from this excited party, but within
hearing distance, sat a young lady with her
husband and friends. The profanity was no
ticed by them, and they seemed shocked by
its boldness.: They could talk, but the timid,
shrinking lady could act. "I can bear it no
longer," she said, As she left her seat and
glided into the circle of the now 'loud and
angry disputants. Placing her hand on the
arm of the one who had shocked her by his
oaths, and trembling with emotion, she beg
ged him not to take the name of God in
vain; to think how soon he might be called
to meet Him in eternity. She said a few
more words, and, frightened at her boldness,
she burst into tears and left them.
The next day before the boat reached its
destination, the man came to this lady, took
her by the hand, thanked her earnestly for
her reproof, and said, " I will not forget
your kind words; I will try and be a differ
ent man, and live for the eternity awaiting
me" A few months after, the lady was•call
ed•from earth. The influence of that open
and decided rebuke will only be known
when the secrets of all hearts shall be re
vealed.
• Many of us can shudder, and deplore the
open wickedness about us, but how many of
us have the decision of Christian character
to enable us to reprove sin in the right spirit
when the'opportunity is given us?
WHAT SEVENTY BOYS BEOAME.
Many people begin the education of their
children with an exhibition of toys, marvel
lous tales, silly romances,
and wind up with
the circus and theatre. The degrading in
fluences and sorrowful consequence of this
mode of education will be best illustrated
by stating a few facts that have passed under
my own observation. So far as my memory
goes, about thirty boys educated in this way
e., in contempt of all useful knowledge
and occupation, spent their days in reading
novels, the lives and .confessions of pirates
and murderers, &c., and their nights in the
streets, dram-shops, gambling Saloons, circus
and theatre: at the age of forty-five, one
had been hung for murder, one for robbing
the mail, and three as pirates; five died in
the penitentiary, and seven lived and died
as useless vagabonds about the streets; three
were useful mechanics, and the fate of the
remainder is unknown.
Of about forty educated with me by a
really moral and scientific teacher, under
the old fogy Puritanic system of restraint,
as it is now called by young America, at the
age of fifty-five, one was a member of Con
gress, one judge of the Supreme Court, two
judges of the Circuit Court, three physicians,
five lawyers, fourteen were dead, and the
remainder farmers and mechanics, and, so
far as known, not one of them ever was
called before the bar of his country on a
criminal charge, and they all had comforta
ble homes except, two or three, and every
one was passably respeetalole.—Dr. Lowton.
THE FOX, THE GOAT, An THE CARROTS
A fox and a goat were walking together
on the main road. After having advanced
a few yards, they saw a bag lying at the
side of the hedge..„.
wonder what there may be in that bag,"
said the goat.
" sec," said the fox; and putting his
mouth to the string with which the bag was
tied, he bit it through in a moment. Then
seizing the bottom of the bag with his teeth,
he shook it, and the most splendid carrots
rolled out.
" Those are for me," said the fox, " for I
have opened the bag."
" You sha'n't touch them," answered the
goat, " else I'll batter you with my horns
till your ribs crack."
The fox looked at the large horns of the
goat, and showed his teeth. The goat seeing
the fox's teeth, thought within himself, "I
don't like those sharp fellows." And the
fox thought, "I don't believe my ribs would
stand those horns."
So they kept standing over the carrots,
and looked at each other, but neither had
the courage to touch the spoil.
After a pause the fox said :
" What's the use of our standing here ?
Let us see which •of us is the stronger.
Yonder are two heaps of stones. Take you
one of them and I'll take the other; he who
first throws down his heap shall have the
carrots."
" Very well," said the goat." So they
went each to his heap.
The goat pladed himself on his hind legs,
and knocked with his horn till the ground
rebounded, but the heap kept immovable.
"You don't hit hard enough," said the
fox. " Take a run at
The goat went a few steps back, and ran
at the heap as violently as he could. Crack
crack ! and both his horns fell to the
ground.
When the fox saw this he commenced
dancing on his hind legs.
"Ah, my dear fellow," cried he, "the car
rots are now for me."
" Not yet," said the goat. " You haven't
thrown down your heap, and if you touch
the carrots before then, I'll fight you with
the stumps that are left on my head."
The fox looked at the goat's stumps, and
thought, " One of them is very sharp; he
might rip up my sides."
"Very well," he said, " I'll throw down
my heap; it's a, trifle to me."
The fox began digging round with his
forefeet till there was a large hole in the
ground. The heap tottered and fell; but,
halloa Z it fell on the fox, and broke his left
hind leg.
Jump at the carrots," said the goat, ma
liciously. "I now leave them to you."
"I can't," sighed the fox; " my leg pains
me too much. You may take them."
" Very well," said the goat, and ran to-.
ward the bag. But, 0 dear, there was
neither bag nor carrots, for auring their
quarrel a peasant had passed by and picked
up both.
" Alas!" cried the goat, " What fools we
are I Had we divided the treasure in peace,
I should have saved my horns, you your leg,
and each of us would have had enough of
carrots.?—De Liefde.
BONG OF NATURE,
The harp at Nature's advent strung
Has never ceased to play;
The song the stars of morning sung,
Has never died away.
And prayer is made, and praise is.given,
By all things near and far ;
The ocean looketh up to heaven,,
Arid mirrors every star.
Its waves are kneeling on the strand, -
As kneels the human knee,
Their white locks bowing to the sand,
The priesthood of the sea!
They pour their glittering treasures forth,
Their gifts of pearl they bring,
And all the listening hills of earth
Take up the song they sing.
The green earth sends her incense up
From many.a .mountain shrine; •
From•lolded : lcaf and dewy pup
She pours her sacred wine.
The mists above the morning rills
Rise white as wings of prayer;
The altar curtains of the hills
Are:sunset's purple air.
The winds with . hymns of praise are loud,
Or low with sobs of pain.
The thunder-organ of the cloud,
The dropping tears of rain.
With drooping head and branches crossed,
The twilight forest grieves,
Or speaks with tongues of Pentecost
From all its sunlit leaves.
The blue sky is the temple's arch,
its transept earth and air,
The Music of its starry march,
The chorus of a prayer.
So Nature keeps the reverent frame
With which her years began, -
And all her signs and voices shame
The prayerless heart of man.
--IVhittier'e "Tent on the Beach."
THE 'SHEPHERD BOY AND HIS DOG.
Ralph's mother, one Saturday evening was
taken very ill. The cottage they lived in
was far away from any path, among the
mountains. The snow fell in large, heavy
flakes, and Malcolm (that was the shepherd's
name) took down his long pole, with the in
tention of setting out to the village to pro
cure some medicine for his wife.
" Father,"-said little Ralph, "I know the
sheep-path Better than you, and with SLag
who will walk before me, I am quite safe;
let me go for the doctor, and do you stay
and comfort. my mother." Malcolm con
sented.
Ralph had been accustomed to the moun
tains from his early infancy; and Shag set
out with his young master, wagging his
tail, and making jumps and grimaces. They
went safely on. Ralph arrived at the vil
lage, saw the doctor, received some medicine
for his mother, and then commenced his re
turn with a cheerful heart.
Shag went on before to ascertain that all
was right. Suddenly, however, he stopped,
and began snuffling and smelling about.—
" Go on Shag,'% said Ralph. Shag would
not stir. " Shag, go
. on, sir," repeated the
boy ! "we are nearly at the top of the'glen."
Shag appeared obstinate for the first time in
his life ; and at last Ralph advanced alone,
heedless of the warning growl of his com
panion. He had proceeded but a few steps,
when he fell over a precipice, which had been
concealed by a snow-wreath.
Malcolm was waiting patiently for his son;
but no son came. At last he heard- the bark
of his faithful dog Shag. "My 90n, my
son !" cried both parents at the same mo
ment. The cottage-door opened, and Shag
entered without his master. " My brave boy
has perished in the snow !" exclaimed the
mother. At the same moment the father
saw a small packet round the 'dog's neek,
who was lying panting on the, floor. "Our
boy lives," said the shepherd ; "here is the
medicine tied with his handkerchief. He has
fallen into some of the pits, but he is safe :
trust in God. I will go out, and Shag will
conduct me safely to the rescue of my child."
In an instant Shag was again on his feet,
and testified the most unbounded joy, as
they both issued from the coitage. You may
imagine the misery the poor mother suffered
while her husband was absent. She felt that
both their lives depended on the sagacity of
a poor dog, but she knew that God could
guide the umb creature's steps to the sav
ing of both.
Shag went on straight and steadily for
some yards, and then suddenly turned down
a path which led to the bdttom of the crag
over which Ralph had fallen. At last Mal
colm stood at the lower edge of the pit into
which his son had fallen. He hollooed; he
strained his eyes ; but could not see or hear
anything. At last Malcolm succeeded In'
getting to the bottom, and Shag scrambled
to a projecting ledge of rock which was
nearly imbedded in snow, and commenced
whining and scratching in a violent manner.
Malcolm followed, and, after a long search,
found what appeared to be the dead body of
his son. He hastily tore off the jacket, which
was soaked with blood and snow,
and 'wrap
ping Ralph in his plaid, strapped him across
his shoulders, and with much toil and diffi
culty re-ascended. Ralph was placed in a
bed, and with great exertion roused from his
dangerous sleep. lie was much bruised and
his ankle dislocated, but he had no other
hurt; and when he recovered his senses, he
fixed his eyes on his mother, and his first
words were : " Thank God; but did you get
the medicine, mother?" When he fell, Shag
had descended after him; and the affectionate
son used what little strength he had left, tied
the medicine round the dog's neck, and di
rected him home with it.
THE DOOR OF HEAVEN.
It was a fearful time, when the steamboat
Tyro was lost. It was a long time ago and
almost every one has forgotten-it, except the
few who had friends on it, and they are al
most gone. The Tyro was a small boat, and
the passengers were few and poor, so it has
passed from the public mind. All the day
the bright sun had shone down on the peace
ful lake, and everything seemed safe and
secure. The passengers had no thought of
danger as the night was coming on.
A little boy kneeled down to say his even
ing prayers, and as he looked out and saw
the western sky all aglow with the glory of
the going day, he asked
"Mamma, isn't that the door of heaven
with bright curtains all around it?"
"Yes, my boy," said the mother, "heaven's
doors are all around us"
'"Well that is the one I want to go in at,
because it is the prettiest." And the child
prayed his prayer and went to sleep.
It was never known how, whether the pilot
fell asleep at his post, or the lights went out,
but when midnight came there was a crash,
a shiver, and cries of terror. The steamer
had come in collision with a schooner and
was sinking.
The little boy awoke. IN cried, "Mamma,
where are you?" And his mothers arms held
him fast, even while they sank together in
the dark waters.
They camo to the surface, and the mother
caught something floating and held fast to
it.
"Jamie ! Jamie !" she said, "hold me very
tight."
"Mamma, are we going to heaven ? I don't
like this way—l'm afraid."
"Never fear, child, God will meet you;"
and with all her strength the mother lifted
the child upon the floating bale, then dropped
it, and went home through the flood-gates
below.
"Mamma, mamma, where are you?" cried
Jamie, but there came no answer. No one
noticed the child afloat, for every one sought,
to save his own life; and the day was born,
ran its race, and was dying again, when Jamie
floated on shore. The little fellow was hun
gry, but there acrain was the glorious gate
of heaven, and famie thought it was wider
open than it was the night before, and as
soon as he could crawl off from the bale to
the land, he began to run as fast as he could,
straight toward the west.
Jamie's feet tottered. He was to week to
run, so he walked straight on a long, long
way, until the west began to grow dim in his
sight.
Jamie saw a man coming toward him, but
he did not stop. The man noticed that the
child's clethes were wet and that he had been
in the water.
"Little boy, where are you going?" ho
asked.
"I can't stop now," said Jamie, "I'm
afraid I shall be too late."
"Too latel where are you going that way?
there is no house there," the man cried after
him, for Jamie did not stop an instant.
"Yes, there is,' said Jamie; "I am afraid
the door will be shut."
"Whose house, boy ?"
" Why, God's beautiful house, to be sure.
Don't you know it? It is in heaven. See it
grows dark ;" and Jamie made one more
effort, and fell to the ground, fainting with
hunger.
in .
The man lifted. him up
.his arms, and
Jamie lisped, "Mamma said God would come
to meet me;" and then he fell, asleep. When
he awoke he found himself in'a strange place,
with strangers about him.
" Come, my darling, you must eat some of
this," said a soft voice, and the light of the
candle was carefully shaded from Jamie's
eyes.
Jamie's "last thought was of heaven, and
his first question was, "Did I get there ?
Did He meet me ?"
And a little girl standing by the bed
answered, ,
"Yes,.little boy,fathermet you an d ,brought
you. home." •
"God's your father, too, is he?" asked
Jamie, not yet fully conscious of his present
state; "then,we'll go home together."
Jamie recovered and grew to manhood—.
grew to a good and glorious manhood, a n d
to the time when his Redeemer called him
home Jamie never forgot the western door
for which
he had striven. He never looked
. ..
upon the gorgeous purple, golden, and crim
son glory of the sunset without hearing
again, in his mind, the words of his mother:
"Yes, my boy, heaven's doors are all about
us." And Jamie's wish was granted Min. One
night the shining light came airmail the
• , p
curtains, and Jamie went borne with the,
day, and Jesus met hini i —Jesus, who long
years before had gone ,down to the dark
flood-gates below to meet Sitinie's Mother—.
Jeans, who always watChes and waits to hear
the coming feet of those who seek the gates
of Heaven.—Tract Journal.
DON'T ACT A LIE.
When I was quite young, I once 'acted a
lie, and my heart is sad whenever I think of
it. One daywhen ray motker bad company,
she took a, china sugar-b Owl to the kitchen
to fill it. I stood beside her While she was
cutting up the large pieces., For a mo
ment, she left her work, I Titnew I ought
not to do it, but I thought I would try to cut
a little. but as I brought down-the knife to
strike, I hit the handle of the sugar-bowl,
and'down' it fell; andin a moment"l put the
handle in its place andpnshed it against the
wall, so that it need not fall off. I had hardly
done so when mother came baCk. Oh, if I
had only told her, the truth then,; but Some
thing whispered, don't tell yet, Wait 'a:little.
. Mother went on, with her work s ; but soon
a heavy blow jarred the boWl, and down fell
the handle. If mother had looked into my
face, she would not have said, "Why, can it
be that such a jar should break the handle?
But I see I was careless in setting it against
the wall."
, I was on the point of sa.ying, "No mother,
it was I that was careless, I did it`;" but
something said, don't tell at - all now; it can't
be helped; so I kept still and acted a lie. I
did not say I did not do it; but by saying
nothing, I made believe I did not, and I let my
mother be deceived. I meant a lie, and it is
the thought that we have in the heart that
God looks at.
Not many months after that, my mother
was taken sick. I was sent away from home
to stay most of the time. When father came
for me, and told me that she never would get
well,—that she must soon die,—that lie came
up before me, and I felt as though my heart
would break. Now, I thought, I will tell
her. But when I reached home, she was so
sick and weak she could. only see me for a
few moments, and they hurried me away be
fore I could tell her. She died that night.
Oh, what bitter tears I. shed as I looked upon
that sweet, cold face,, and remembered how
I had deceived her, .
Many years have passed since then; but
when I go home and see that sugar-bowl still
without a handle, my sin comes up before me.
I never think of it but my heart -is heavy.
And when I see a child trying to deceive, even
in sport, only "making believe," I always
want to beg him•never to deceive, ;Lever to
make believe a lie.
TAKE ME.
04e day the Superintendent of a Sunday-
School in Philadelphia, waa,gßing along near
Third and Dock streets. H saw one of the
large boys bClonging to his school coming
out of a drinking saloon. The boy's name
was George Simpson. As the superinten
dent Rased by, he raised his finger, and
shaking his, head, he said, in a kind, but se
rious way:
" Take care, George; take care !"
Some ten or twelve yeard passed away,
and he had forgotten all, about it, when one
day a very genteel-looking man came up to
him in the street, and bowing, said :
"I think, sir, this is Mr. P—, who used
to be the superintendent of such a Sunday
?"
" That is my name, but I donTremember
you."
" Don't you remember a boy named George
Simpson, who used to belong to your
school."
"No, I can't recollect the name."
" Well, sir, don't you remember meeting
him one day, coming out of a drinking place
near Third and Dock streets, when you
shook your finger at him and said, ' Take
care, George !' "
" 0 yes, I remember that."
"Well, sir," said the young man, "I am
George Simpson, and I want to thank you
for what you did and said that day. It was
a little thing, but it saved me from ruin. I
was just beginning to go the drunkard's
ways. But something in your words and
manner made a great impression on me. I
quit drinking. Not long after I joined the
Church. Now lam living in the West, and
am quite well off; but, -my dear sir, I owe it
all to you."
It is just with God to destroy that health
with disease, which he sees we would cast
away in sloth and idleness. Think with
thyself, had such a soul as Timothy's or
Gains's, been. blest with such a body as
thine,
so strong and vigorous, so apt and
able for service, they would have honored
God more in it in - 6a, day, than perhaps you
do•in a year.
,We'are generally more solici
tous to live long, .than to live usefully and
serviceably; and may be, our health had
been more precious in the eyes of God, if
it had been less precious in our own eyes.