Ot gantilli &rat., (COMM 17.71 ICATKO. THE °ROSS-BEARER. BY MI AS A. WARNER. When I set out to follow Jesus, .My Lord a areas held mit to me; Which I must take, and bear it onward, If I would his disciple be. I turned my head another way, And said, not this, my Lord, I pray Yet, as I could not quite refine him, I sought out many another kind, . And tried among those painted crosses The sardiest of them all to find. ' But still the Lunt held forth my own: This must thou bear, and this alone. Unheeding then my dear Lon Tis offer My troubles all on him to lay, I thought myself my cross to lighten, By Anil part of it away A nd still the. more firiet to 00, The rest of it more Mary grew. Well, if I cannot go without it, I'll make of it the most I may; Awl so I held my cross uplifted, In eight 61b1l1rhii came Ultra way. - - Alai, ihypiricre-taiind bitterly, i►ly_ osasat locked small toltli but me ! And there I was ashamed to bear it, Where others walked so free and light ; And Wailed it in the' dims behind me t And tried to keep it out of sight. Till VesuS said, Art-thou indeed Ashamed to follow as I lead ? No! no!—why this shall.be my glory,— All other things I'll count. but loss. And so I even fashioned garlands, And'hung het round about my cross. Atifoolish one! such works are . deatt Bear it for me, the Master Said. And still I. was not prompt to mioddhim, But let my self-will choose the way ; And sought me 'out new foims of.service, And would do all things but obey. My Lord !-I ble'se thee for the pain That drove my heart to thee again. I bore it then, with him hefore me, Right onward through the day's white beat; Till with the toil awl pain o'ermastered, I feinting fell down at his feet. But for his matchless care that day, I should have perished where I lay. But oh, I grew so very weary, When life and sense crept back once more! The whole horizon hung with darkness, And grief where joy had been before: Bkrer to die, I said, and rest, 'Loan live with such. a burden premed. Then Jesus spoke: Bring here thy burden, Antliind in 'me a full tettase ;,"; Bring all thy sorrows, all thy lengings,. AniT take instead lay' perfect peaoe. Trying to bear thy cross alone?— Child, the misto.kels,all thine own. And now my cross' is till supported,— • - Part on my Lord, and part on me: . But us he 18 "so much Iftgbnger, He seems to bear it—l go free. Ltough its weight just here and here,— Weight that woilleUdritsh, were he not .stear. Or if,at times:it seemetli heavy ; • 'And if I droop along the rood; The „Master lays hip, own. syeekpromise * Between my shouldet-itinli the - Wad : Bidding my heart look up, not down, Till thooross fades_before,tike Grown. " The pillow-of the prpixoe." LITTLE BLUE-STOCKING. Papa came into the sitting-room, and weary with his long walk " up town," threw himself into the arm-chair with a'" heigh ho V' At the same moment his eyes fell on his little girl, a-tip-toe at mamma's little writing table, and for the first time in her life, too busy to know that her papa had come in. " What are ye doing, Totty ?" "I'm writing ; pa dear; I'll- see you in a minute," raid 'Potty, with a demure air of basil:MSS. Mamma looked at papa with swat a-comi cal face, and speaking low, so that Totty should not hear, she said --L." She's been at it ever since she came home from school, and I guess in school too, perhaps.. I expect poor Tabby is to be immortalized and to have a monument suitable to her merits. Only the morning before bad Potty's beau tiful little tabby-kitten frisked through the house and up and down the grape-vine trel lis, aykd out to the little well-house, where she loved ,to sit on a- conyeniept..ledge, and look - over the fence at the passers by. She was in a very gay humor that morning, almost beside herself with the frolic she and Potty had been having with - pipa after breakfast., A rude boy, who - Often - pissed that way, and of whom she was much afraid stopped to lotik over the fence, and threw a stone at her just as she had settled herself tor a nap in the sunshine. She heard the stone rattle against the well-roof, and started wide awake, but she was so confused when she saw the boy that she turned to run, forgetting how harrow her footing was, and over she went, down, down into, the well. The bad boy ran off, and Totty 'Went to school, and.no one thought of poor Tab by again till Bridget went t,o draw . : some water and brought her up with it, very stiff and lifeless. Mamma thought Bridget had better hiary poor pussy before Potty came home, but, she came in while they were talking of it. How she cried 1 Well, to be sure, who wonders? Wasn't it just the dearest little kitty that ever was, and didn't Potty want something to play with and love at. home besides papa and mamma, who were very nice indeed, but couldn'tjurup and run, and who didn't have soft, spotted fur? Papa didn't wonder at all ? He felt very sorry for the kitty, but more porry for 'his little girl, and though he couldn't help her cry, he said he could help her to biiry it in a nice place under the snow-ball bush, and would plant a root of catnip over it, and would try to get-her an ot....er kitty. --,7Rl4 . yierford, THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN THURSDAY, JANUARY 9, 1868. It was early in the spring, and papa had some difficulty in finding the catnip, for the leaves were scarcely out, but he did get some, and when he was setting it out, he said to the tearful little maiden who watched all his operations, " Totty, my love, hadn't I better put up a board, and write on it Cat-nipped in the bud?'" But Totty only smiled, because her papa cheered her up, and though she did not quite understand his fun, the idea of the board with something written on it, seemed to take her fancy. While-,papa talked with mamma, Totty had worked away at her writing. Present ly slte'raised her head and laid do 4n her pen with a satisfied " There rand came and climbed to her usual seat on her . father's knee. . " What is it, Pet? Arn't you going to let papa see it r 'Nay looked bashful and said, " I'm afraid you'll laugh. It is only a verse that I'm going to have Willie Weston ,Arrite' of a ,board for Tabby's , graie., , can only write printing-letters, but - Willie says he'll write it nice; 'in writing letter's with charcoal." . . Papa, indiscreet pan promised not to langla, se Totty broil-girt ,man, of paper to him, and this is what he saw on it, only I never can show you in print those queer little capitals that she made; for there ale no types to print such. However, here is the rhyme and - the original spelling : "Here lys poor Tabby Norton, the onnningest little thing That ever cant mice or played_with a string. A re sh " e hadent been so fond of sitting on the well, How long she might have lived I can never tell. Poor Totty's heart most broke When her dere Tabby dyd, And the More she thot of it thebiore lthe ,soa and cryd. Bat when things can't be helped,' no more' is to'be sed, So we'll leve her in pece with catnip on her bed!? Poor papa! He tried very .bard to re member his promise not to, laugh; bUt Some how the laugh_would come oat. It ran up into his eyes •and made them tremble like stars, then it spread into his 'cheeks and made the dimples show even tinder the whis kers, and at last his lips parted, and through his white teeth, like two files of soldiers, the laugh ran the gauntlet, and gave an excellent little chuckle before he could take it prison er. Then Tatty blushed, and, half vexed, snatched the paper and ran off through the garden : gate to see Willie Weston, who lived • next door. Then papa said. to : mamma-"Pretty well for a nine-year-old who can't writs yet, now wasn't it? How comical it 'sounds when children call their dolls and their pets after their.own family name, like Tabby. Norton. And that bit of philosophy on making the best of it, is so like her. I hope she may keep the spirit for greater, trials,"; Of course, it did not take long for Totty's little friends to learn that she had written what she called a verse on her'dead darling, which Willie Weston had suitably inscribed, and it was not many days before Libby Rice came to get her to write some lines, about her yellow-bird, which her' brother •caught, and which she had kept caged several weeks, but which,:ipining; alas I for; its: wild-wood home, had been found, dead. in the bottom of its cage that morning. Willie Weston's father was an editor, and as Willie's chief delight had long been to follow the same business in miniature, Mr. Weston taught him to set type, and furnished him. with Material for printing aff anylittle scrap he wished to see in .that shape. He bad even Made a feW editions of a little newspaper, in which were contributions from several of the boys whom he knew, but most of the paragraphs, were his own. He had promised Libby Rice that if she would get Tatty, or, more properly, Miss Evangeline Norton, to make some verses on the departed - yellow-bird,' they should ap pear in print•in the next •issue af the Young America, then " about going to press." • : ,So, 01 due time it happened that Totty ran to meet her father with a copy of Young America in' her hand,. and showed him, with -quite an exultant air, her name in print. Seated on one of the garden ,benches, papa read the lines, but this time he did not, laugh. They were 'much better thnn those she wrote about poor Tabby,. but I think ,pa,pa,saw•-something in them that made him a little sad, for, .as he arose to 'go into the house, he handed them back, only saying: " I'm afraid my little girl will be a blue stocking, if she don't take care." Here was a new idea. Blue-stocking! What could it mean ? Totty looked down wonderingly at her small ankles, encased in snowy stockings, as if expecting to see them turn suddenly to an indigo';slitide.- After tea, when papa was reading his Pa per, he felt a round, curly head thrust under his arm and up towards his face, and a sinkl voice said : " When you have done reading the paper, will you tell me what a blue-stocking is?" " Yes," said papa;; and lifted her up to his knee, where she laid her head against his breast, and kept as still as a mouse for so long that he thought she was asleep, but as he leaned down to look into her eyes, she started•up, with " Are you ready, papa ?" "A blue-stocking ? It's a poser to make my little daughter understand it, but I'll try. In old, old, times, there was a very fine gentleman, who wore blue stockings and dressed like some of the men in that old fashion-book of mamma's, and this gentle mit) used to meet with a companrof equally fine ladies, who read and wrote and talked a great deal, and who, I am afraid, thought more of having people listen to and admire them than they did of a true woman's life and duties. It came to be the fashion to call all such women blue-stockings." I "And were they not good, papa?" "I cannot say, dear; I am afraid they were such women as would rather meet to gether to talk than to take care of their own homes and children; and try'to make a hap py place for their fathers and hnsbands• - and brothers. lam afraid they were so, eager to be yraised and , talked about, and to 'see their names in books and papers ; __ that, forgot to be kind to the poor, and sweet and gentle to those who needed them far more than the great world did." "And would I be like them if I were to write things some day to print in books?" "No, darling ; I don't think you would, if you didn't think about praise, but only whether it would do good. But I hope my little girl will find some other employment for her time and mind; for those who write books are not the happiest people of this world., They mostly have learned to suffer before they learned to write. They have sorrow and their hearts are full, and • they find relief in writing and telling to those whe'maY be have had sorrow too; greater ScirtoWs, little one, than losses of kittens and birds." All this talk with papa happened a good while ago, more than four years, and Potty had grown into a large girl, almost a young lady. She had learned to write she had studied patiently at school and helped. her mother at home. A quiet, thoughtful girt, she seemed, and /fipple said she read too many books, and ought too much, but she Seemed happy enough. - Down in the little brown cottage at the foot of the street, lived a little maiden: who had never walked at all Beautiful she was too, and as cheery as the canary-bird that Totty / gave her., With the .books she read aloud, the charming dolls she made, the songs she sung, she was the life and joy of the children who came to see her abd bring their little offerings of love. Pictures, candy, fruit and play-things they brought, but never an unkind word or look to the little.cripple. She had_ a . sweet low voice, and many were the songs she taught to , them word by word. She and Potty had been . fast friends a long time, and Potty spent many an hour -with her learning fancy-work and songs. Many Other things she was learning of her all the time while she scarcely knew it. She was _learning patience, perseverance and helpfulness from a lot far leas fortunate than her own. !DERN The dear, blessed Christmas time _was drawing near, and such a bustle and plan ning as there'was on all sides. For weeks before that time Willie Weston and 'Potty held frequent meetings and Whispered con versations and were too busy for any play time. There was to be a Sunday-school Festival and. Christmas Tree, reason enough for ex citement among the juveniles who could talk of •nothing•else. The joyful evening came at last, and the little folks, in their bright winter gariAnts, gathered is the vestry of ,the church with theirparents.• The little lame girl was there, too, the children had gone for her them selves with a nice little boy's sled, and she sat.among them smiling and, happy to be hold, for the first-`time in'her life, ft" Christ mas tree. Stich a tree-as it was! It reached from floor to ceiling, and was weighed .down with its varied treasure. One by one names were—called and the eager pos sestvr of a gift flitted among the crowd to ple&surft with his friends. All the smarm articles were taken down, but some thing still remained- -ir - the' , back,ground. The superintendent drew: it to the front of the platform and read from a card : FOR FANNIE WOODLEIHE FROM FRIENDS WHO All the little ones looked at once towards' their little crippled friendAo see and enjoy; her_surprise. , Could she believe he'r eyes ? Was that beautiful cushioned chair, with wheels and arms by which to move it wher- , everitbe owner wished, really meant for Jag? They scarcely gave her time to think, but carried her and Placed bei in it in a buzz of eagerness and affectionate delight. Poor little Fannie ! She lonked helplessly ii•orn one to another of the loving faces and bowed her own upon her hands to had lui.ck the fast flowing tears. A little paper book hung on one• of the wheels of the chair and taking it up to see what it might be, itr. Norton read upon its title page: •,When Papa Norton had read that, he' 'opened - his eyes pretty wida and began-to look further: 'Here in this pretty primer, WM' a story about a fairy named Cheerful ness, who'lived in the house with. Love, and ,how they worked together to make happi ness, and how, even in the midst ofpoverty and misfortune, they succeeded in making such large quantities of it, that they had even much to give, away. Besides the story, there were, several of the pretty songs which Fannie had taught to her friends. Just then'Mamma Norton came to Papa, with beaming face and said : " Only think, dear, how those children have worked, and how carefully they have kept their, secret! Mrs. Weston bas told all about it. Eva wrote the story and copied VIA he songs, and'Willie printed the book, and each of their school-mates bought one, and Willie sold other copies at the pninting.office, and so theygathered togeth er thirty dollars for this beautiful chair. All their own idea, too! Bless their little hearts!" A little band WAS slipped into Papa's arm, and somebody whispered : "Am I a blue-stocking now, papa ?" But papa did not say anything, he only caught Totty round the waist and hugged her—so close I—Liberal Christian. When a saint dies, heaven above is as it were moved to receive and entertain, him; at his coming, he is received into everlast ing habitations, into the inheritance of the saints in •light. When an unbeliever dies, we may say of him, "Hell from beneath is moved for him, to meet him atlas coming; if stiitetli up the dead for him." LOVE.HEB FAIRY,.- and • HER WONDER-WORKING, Published by WILLIE. WESTON AND EVA NORTON GRANDMOTHER'S SPECS. "Well, I think that is polite! Grandma expects me to sit still while she takes a nap instead of telling me stories. Ilow selfish some people are." As she spoke, little Patty looked angrily from the old lady nodding in her chair to the book in her lap, and felt very much in jured because she couldn't have her own way. The rain pattered on the window pane, the wind blew dismally, and the win ter afternoon was fast deepening into twi light. lb wasn't a cheerful scene citber inside or out, and Patty couldn't decide whether to cry and - wake grandma, Or to go and do some mischief.. ,As she sat thinking ' about her wrongs, her eye wandered to the book 'again. • "Stupid old, pictures, I've seen 'em a doien times, and am tired of 'ern. But there is no other book here, and I mustn't leave the room. I wonder how they'd look through grandma's specs." Putting the glasses on her little nose, Patty turned a leaf and looked. Dear me, how very odd it -was to-be su in ite ago she saw a cat and4ittep page, andßow,there was a picture she ad neverseen, ksweet, pale-faced lady lay in a bed and was putting a little baby into the 'firms of an old lady who seemed promising some thing with a tender yet sorrowful look. " Why that's the way .my dear mamma did when she gave me to grandma, the• day she- died!'Papa, told me about it," cried Patty, very muck stirpriped. Wondering what' had comther book, she eagerly `turned over another leaf and there was :a new picture. , This was a-still more curious one, for the figures seemed to move. The same old lady was teaching" the same baby to walk, so kindly, so, patiently;' and the baby seemed to love her dearly, for it ran to, her with eager, tottering little feet, and laughed with delight when it was safe in her motherly arms. Several other pictures showed the good old . lady caring, for the same pretty baby in many ways; watching over it when ill; tending, teaching and amusing it ; taking 'many steps for it, thinking, working and praying for it, and devoting herself to it as faithfully as any mother. Next came pictures showing the baby a little girl, and the -.old lady still older, but as kind as ever. Judging from the pictures, - the child was rather a careless, selfish little girl, for she seemed not to obey, and to leave many things undone. One of these pages showed this child running away and getting lost, because she was bid to •do something she didn't like; and the old lady was seen going after her and bringing her brick and forgiving the naughty little girl. Another was where the child appeared to be nearly run over,• and the old lady saved her, but was much hurt herself. When Patty saw that, she looked very sober, and .the pettish expression left her( face, as she said-softly,— " Yes, that's what grandma did for me and' - that's how she got so lame. Poor. grandma, J. wish got her cane for her when, she. asked ; me." ~_,l 1 1 The last picture showed. the old lady lying dead, and the child, a tall girl now stand ing by her with a very sorrowful thee that said as plainly as words, "Oh,'why wasn't I kinder to her when 'she did so much for me I" As Patty looked,her eyeagrew so dim with tears that the page was a blur, and, put ting up _her hand to wipe -the drops away, the spectacles fell off and the strange pic tures vanished. Patty sat quite still for several minutes, thinking of all , the unkind words she had said, the duties she had tke'glpgted, l the loving acts she had left undone, and all she owed dear, kind, patient, grandma. She covered up her face and cried till her little handker chief was , quite wet, so full of repentant sorrow was she. Suddenly she thought, "Itisn't too late; she'isn't gone, and there's time to be good to her pew. What shall I do to show herimi sorny AM. r • Wiping up her tears sbe looked about the room and saw plenty to do. The fire was. nearly out, .because: Patty had forgotten.to tell the maid to bring *ood, ' and had lost; grandma's , cane without which she couldn't walk a step. Patty's playthings lay all about in the untidy way that troubl_ed• grandma. The yard -she 'had been asked to wind, hung in a tangle on the cbair where she had left it. Grandma's knitting had dropped down and the stitches were half out, for Patty didn't bring _the spec facies and without them she could not pick them up. Grllndma's shawl was spread over Patty's doll, and the poor old lady had quietly gone to sleep and never asked ' for it though she looked chilly even in her. nap. "How • naughty I am to be so lazy, and: selfish, and disobedient Dear grandma is too kind to punish me, but I ought to be punished, ha"rd," saidClatty,-sliaking herself and wondering how, any one could be patient with her. Fnly gOod'resolutias i she: felLtb wore arid' Fell` over-'a - neWlea.f at - "once, not' waiting , a minxite.or saying. ‘c lii! be good by and by." She cleaned up her play things,t found the cane and leaned it against grand m c h air . allTreidy She put - hick the spectacles, picked,up the stitches and laid the knitting en the-old lady's lap; she folded the - shawl - softly - round her, and grandma gave a - little - 131kb - as - if the corn fortOtc 'wa-rtAth plca l secr Iraq C:ThtgiPPtftty buiit up a grand fire, swept the hearth, and . sat down to wind thc,yarn. Darker, and darkBf, 47 grew outside as night came on; harder 'blew the wind and ; faster fell the rain, but within it was bright and warm, for the fire-light danced on the pleasant room, the placid.old lady sleeping in her chair and the busy little girl patiently viinding the tangle, tat the`great smooth ball was done. 17: el i rthitiughtful-was Patty's rosy face. as she sat .solitilL; but that half, virus hour. did her mach goo( forAthe theßght what she e andWhitt" 'to lie and! prayed a very sincere little prayer titat miglit keep bar resolutions. and be a taitl t;; loving eund to grandma. Wben the Malady woke, she rati o } h,„ eyes and looked abi.,t her, feeling a it good fairies had beet, a t wor k w hit e slept. And so they had, for the best am] loveliest of household fairieb are LOV42 ant Cheerfulness. Patty had dra wn „p th ,2 round table and.quietly set out the, little tea tray with the tiny cups and plates, tin fas hioned 'spoons and funny plump teapot that grandma liked; had toasted the bread h er . self, just brown and nice, and got everythi n ready in the most cosy, tempting order on e can imagine.. " Well, deary, what does it all moan ?" cried grandma, smiting with surprise anti plea Sure, as she looked abbut her. "It means that I'm trying to be a goo' child and do 'my duty as I haven't done it for re 10/Ig, long while;".and Patty put her arms round: grandma's neck with a little quiver iniber voice that went straight to the ladfit i heart.' Standing Standing so she told all that had happened, andma laughed and said it was.onl But Patty was sure , waa.trais,, y the spectacles wouldn't show_ any, more of the strang e pictures when she tried again. " ;Never mind, my darling, they show me the dearest, most dutiful little daughters. and I'm quite satisfied," said grandma, kissing the childish face,. which from that day made summer sunshine for her through the.winter of old age—Mercy's Museum. GODPS-WtoRD HID ni THE HEART. Children, there was once a little boy who went to Sundipsehool regularly, and learned all his leSsons well, so - that be 'bad a great many Bible verses in his mind. He wati temperance boy. This boy was on a steamboat making a journey. One day as be sat alone on deck looking - down into the water, two ungodly gentlemen agreed that one of them should go and{-try to Tersuade him to drink . So the wicked Mari drew near to the boy, and in a very pleasant voice and manner in vited him to go and drink a glass of liquor With,him. "1 thank you, sir," said he, "but I never drink liquor." "Never mind, my lad, it will 'not hurt you;come and drink with me." " ine is a mocker--strong drink is rag ing. Whosoever is deceived thereby is nut wise," was the boy's ready answer. You need not be deceived by it. I would not have yon drink too much. A little will do you no harm, and will make you Werpleasantly." " At the /as( it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like an adder," said the boy. I feel Safer, and I think it wiser not to play with adders." "My fine little fellow," said the crafty man, putting on his most flattering air, I like you; you are no child; you are fit to be a companion of gentlemen. It will give me great pleasure if you will come and drink a glass of the best -wine with me." „ The' lad looked him steadily _in the eyes and said, "M Bible says, qf sinners en tice thee, consent thou not' " That was a sinning blow to the tempter; and be gave up his wicked attempt and went back to his companion. " How did you Succeed ?" said he. "0, the fact is," lie replied; 'rthat little fellow is so full of the Bible you can't do anything with him." t . - - Children, that is just what we are trying to .do in this Sunday school. We wish to get every boy's mind, and every girl's mind, so full of the Bible; that wicked tempters can not do anything with them.. ' Now children , there is ,ono Bible verse which shows that this is, just the right use to make of the recite I. wish you all now to learn it, and recite *it `with me. I will say, it alone twice, and then you all say it with me. • "-Thy word have I hidin my heart, that I might not sin against thee." Children, hide just as much of God's pre cious word in your hearts as ever you can.— Dr. Nelson at the' St. Douis ,S'. S. Institute. .—A .MIDNIGEIT MEETIN G. MGVEMENTt the Quarterly Meeting of the workers and friends of this Institution, held on Thursday, October 4, in the large hall, Red Lion-square, London, the following statement was made: From the commencement of the movement, in February, 1860, 105 meetOgs have been held in London, Attended by 13,421 unfor tunates, of whom 530 have been restored to friends, 1,800 sent to service, 57 married, 5 reconciled to their husbands, 4 emigrated, 4 sent home to the Continent, 2 placed in business, 300 sent to hospitals, 400 assisted to obtain an honest living,_ and very many are now in the homes. In the present year 25 meetings have been held in London, at tended by 2,000 unfortunates, of whorl L!V have been rescued; in addition to —which two meetings have been held in Bristol, at tendid'Jay 110 poor girls=lo . rescued. The above statement gives a very inadequate idea ofthe benefits arising from, the move .Ment, which ? daring the,last six years, has awakened the;a4ttention of the country, and led to strenuous efforts to remove the evil. In many, large and influential towns meet thugs bai z e been held, and in London many poor girls have been,heard of; who-never at tended the meetings, buewleusought a refuge in the various institutions. The general re sult may be stated thusmany new homes have been opened since MO, and above 1,000,p00r. girls rescued annually in the me tropolis, besides a large. number 'in other parts of the country. gereover, the pro moters-have given their attention to the cause of the evil, to the necessity of enforc ing the law against bad houses, and the fear ful traffic in this-sin , andTtheir efforts in this direction have not been ; vain. Lectures `have also been tgiven. to fast young men, tnd suitable4Ablications diatlibuted among hem.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers