Hblje family [communicated.] A RHYME POE THE CHILDREN. BT M. E. M. THE BEST THAT I CAJT. “ I cannot do much ” said a little star, “ To make the dark world bright! My silvery beams cannot struggle far, Through the folding gloom of night! But I’m only part of God’s great plan, And I’ll cheerfully do the beat that I can ! “ What is the use,” said a fleecy cloud, “Of these few drops that I hold! They will hardly bend the lily prond, Though caught in her cup of gold! Yet am I a part of God’s great plan, ‘ So my treasures I’ll give, as well as j^can.” A child went merrily forth to play, But a thought, like a silver thread, Kept winding in’ and out all day, Through,the happy golden head; Mother said, “ Darling, do all you can! For you are a part of God’s great plan! ” She knew no more, than the glancing star, Nor the cloud with its chalice full I How, why, and for what, all strange things were ? She was only a child at school 1 But she thought “It is part of God’s great plan, That even I, should do all that I can ! ” So she helped a younger child along, When the road was rough to the feet, And she sang from her heart a little song, That we all thought passing sweet. And her father, a weary toil-worn man. Said, •< I too will do the best that I Can.” iOur best! Ah ! children the best off vis, ' Must hide our faces away, When the Lord of the vineyard comes to look, At our task, at the close of day 1 But for strength from aboVe', ’tis the Master’s plan, We’ll pray, and we’ll do the best that we can.. , ,DT THE HOSPITAL. The old town-clock struck twelve on Good Friday, which is the Friday before Easter-Sunday, when the children sprang out hastily from the doors bf all the school rooms, and fairly filled the streets and mar ket-places. At the first stroke of the clock, a pale and delicate woman, Frau Willers, laid down her knitting, and prepared a lit tle lunch for her daughter, whose name was Helen. This was Helen’s birthday, and her mother gave her two large oranges, a flower-pot containing a beautiful rose, and a nice portfolio. Never was little Helen happier than on that Good Friday, and never did Frau Willers look with morevgratitude and joy at her daughter than as they both sat together at the table and ate their lunch. “ Now,” said Helen, '• since you have been so good to me, mother, as to give me two oranges, I will take one.of them and. give it to one of the poor soldier's in the hospital a proposition which her mother was pleased to hear her make. That afternoon Frau Willers and little Helen- started for their regular weekly visit to the hospital. Though that kind woman was not obliged to go there, yet she felt it a duty,to attend to the suffering, add to re lieve their wants as far as she was able. . Helen looked at everything in the hospi tal with wondering eyes. She saw the large table in the middle of the principal room covered with sponges,- medicines, glasses, fruits, and all kinds of surgical instruments. An old woman was the principal nurse in that room, and though she did n‘ot seem to he a very pleasant person for the sick men to have around them, yet she bad a very good heart, and the soldiers loved her very dearly. .. \ The clock in the old Gothic church on the other side of the square struck four in the afternoon, and while Helen was reading the newspaper to one of the* soldiers, she heard another one, lying in a cot some distance off, say: \ ‘SOh! I have been' dreaming, and thought that I was away off home, where my dear parents used to live; where I used to go to school, and where I was so delighted to sail my little boat and turn ; my mill in the brook.” • t Poor man ! ho was not destined to have many more dreams on earth, as his wound was so severe that it was impossible for him to recover. « The newspaper which Helen read con tained a long account of the battle in which all the soldiers who lay there had been wounded, the result of which battle was a great victory for the army in which they were. When she finished reading, she sang a song, commencing: “I know not when I’ll die, But all mv sins I now lament ” She sang the whole song through, and it was one of the most beautiful She bad learned from her mother. By and by, Frau Wiliers and Helen fin ished their long visit of kindness to the wounded soldiers, and then left the hospital A soldier, lying in a far corner of the hos pital, asked the old nurse having charge of the room who 4 the lady and her daughter were, for the song which he'heard the little girl sing was one that was very familiar to him when he was a child. Thq old lady very kindly took a seat by his side, and told him the interesting history of Frau Willers, which, as near as I can now recol lect, was as follows: « Theiady’s name is Frau Willers, and she is the daughter of a rich architect. She has had themisfoTtune to lose her husband, who was drowned, while on a voyage td America, five years'ago. After the death of her father, her brother forged a will, and got the entire estate of the wealthy archi tect into bis own possession. Frith Willers implored th’e dishonest man to give J>er at least enough property to educate her daugh ter ; but all her entreaties .were of no avail. He was cruel.enough to kedp all for-himself. THE AMEBIC AN PRESBYTERIAN THURSDAY, APRIL 30, 1868. This brother had an only son, whom he loved as only a parent can love a child, ihc unkind father wished to place all this pro perty in his son’s possession, and so not per mit his only sister and her little girl ever to have a share in it.” When the old lady finished her story, she found that the soldier to whom she was tel ling it had fallen asleep, but another woun ded soldier, lying near him, was very much interested in the account, and did not lose a word, though he was one of the most se verely wounded in the whole hospital, and the surgeon had declared that he could not live longer than a day or two. He tried to speak, but the old lady could not conceive of what he wished to say. So, without wishing to excite him, the old lady left him, and told him she would return again in the morning, and hear all that he had to say.. ■ The next morning the old lady came early, and went immediately to the cot where the poor soldier lay. He looked a ljttle brighter and fresher than the day before, but was still unable to carry 6n any conversation. The only words which the old lady could understand him to say, were i “ The song of yesterday 1” Just then it flashed upon that old nurse's mind that this very soldier was the son of the brother of Frau Willers; and yet she knew that, notwithstanding the lave which his father had for him, ho could live but a short time longer.; He succeeded in ’whispering again to the old nurse to send for the lady ana her daughter.' As soon,as,F.rau Willers afid Helen camp into the hospital that afternoon, they were led immediately to the poor sinking soldier, among whose last words were these, which he spoke to .Helen : . “ Oh! sing again tbe song which my mother taught me, afid which you sang yes terday : ‘ I know not when I’ll die, : But all my,sins I. now'lament.’” The poor soldier’s father, who lived a long distance from there; barely had time to reach the hospital before his son died, who in a few days was followed to his grave. As soon as ! the father heard that hiß own sister was living there, and that her daugh ter Helen had sung the beautiful song which had-been a favorite in the family -for-many generations,, he exclaimed: “ Oh ! how hard-hearted I have been ! how hard-hearted I have been! The very ones whom I .have,;treated most unkindly, have performed .the last offices of affection for my beloved son!” As the young soldier was, borne to the grave, Frau. and her daughter wept bitter tears or sorrow, for it was a relative that they were following to his lastresting plufie.; On returningp'the’brother of Frau Willers w with, ..her. to her home, .and what he said there will now be no surprise to you: “ I have been led in this wonderful way, to review my own conduct, and to see my unkindness toward you in its clear light., I have now no relative left to whom I- can leave my property, with the exception of you, my sister, and you, little Helen. ’So you must go away with me, and rhy house shall be your future home. It is -nothing more than my duty to you as my only rela tives. But it is doubly my duty when I re member that you have providentially, been the ones to comfort my dear son in his last hours—to point him to the Saviour; and- to fiulfil his last wish on earth.” ’ ‘ Frau Willers consented to the arrange ment, and she and her daughter soon be came the occupants of one of the-most beau tiful houses in all the Grand Duchy of Ba den. .Yet neither ceased,to love the.,s,uffer ing. ...x v a J.V- lx. Helen " could .lopk, back upon pleasant Good Fridays, i>ut to no Friday in all her life as upon .that one wh,en ,she sang to the poor suffefer in the hospital: ‘ “I know not when I’ll.die,’ ' ; But all my sins I now lament’-' LIFE LENGTHENED. 1. Cultivate an equable temper ; many a man;has;fallen dead in a fit of passion; 2. Bat regularly, not over., thrice a day, and nothing between meals. 3. Go to bed at regular hours..! Get up as soon as you wake of yourself, and do not sleep in day-time, at least not longer than ten minutes before noon. 4. Wort always by the day, and not by the job. 5. Stop working before you are very much tired, —before you are “ fagged out.” 6. Cultivate a, generous and an accommo dating temper. - ' * . 7. .Never cross a bridge before you , come to it; this will save half the troubles of life. • ; '/• 8. Never eat vfhon you are not hungry, nor drink when you are not thirsty. \ ! 9. Let your appetite always come unin vited. TO. Cool off in a place greatly warmer than the one in which you have been exer cising ; this simple rule would prevent in calculable sickness, and save millions of lives every year. 11. Never resist a call of nature for a sin gle moment. 12. Never allow yourself to be chilled “throughand through;” it is this which de stroys so many every year,, in a few days’ sickness, from pneumonia, called by some lung fever or inflammation of the lungs, 13. Whoever drinks no liquids at meals will add years, of pleasurable existence to his life. Of cold or warm driDks, the form er are most pernicious ; drinking at meals induces persons to eat more than they other wise would, as any one can verify by ex periment, a,nd it is excess, in eating.which devastates the land with sickness, suffering and death. 14. After fifty years of age, if not a day laborer, and sedentary persons after fort}’, should eat but twice a day, in the morning and about four in the afternoon ; persons can soon accustom themselves to a seven hour interval between eating, thus giving the stomach rest; for every organ without adequate rest will “ give out ” prematurely. 15. Begin early to live under the benign influences of the Christian religion, for it has the promise of the life that now is and of that which is to come.”— Rail’s Journal of Health. A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCE ON VESUVIUS, An adventurous lady who has ascended Vesuvius, and braved the dangers of an approach to the crater, writes the following sketch of her experience to the Philadelphia Bulletin: “A half au hour of fatiguing journey over a desert more dreary and terrible than im agination can possibly picture, with Pom peii; Herculaneum, Torre del Greco, and dozens of buried and ruined cities and vil lages painfully oppressing our sense of the supremacy ot" man’s ingenuity over natural accident, and. inspiring a dread of the awful fiery,monster we were so recklessly approach ing, ;and not in theileast modified by the fact that seventy-five thousand souls were actual ly clinging to their old homes on the moun tainside, down which rivers of fire rolled and surged, uphoaved and turned in great blocks of crimson paste, as if the cauldron of hell were boiling over, and seeking vic tims beyond its limits. “Now we dismounted; our skirts were tied close»arourid ! us to prevent their being torn off by the ‘ sharp edges of hard lava, and with a guide to drag us by the hand, eveiyone of the party being furnished, with a stout, stick, w.e started toward- the lakes and streams of liquid fire. At. every step the heat became more intense. We were passing over lava that had rolled down only twelve hourfl before. We dared not pause an instant, dr our feet were burned; if we stepped one inch aside from the spot point ed by the guide’s; staff, we must plunge our feet into fiery paste; sometimes the crust under our feet cracked; we sprang from it, and sulphurous flames issued from the cre vices. At last, I found my strength exhaust ed ; my guide, perceiving it, cried out, \GourageMadame; avancezplus loin! ’ ‘Not a step,’ I answered, and all scenes appeared to recede, when a glass of . bright wine flash ed between my eyes'• and the light, and' ‘ Drink! it is the wine of Yesuvius! ’ “We were so near the, flowing lava that our faces were all . crimson with the heat; but we dared to remain while coins , were thrown into it, and.then fished out with the metal sticking to them; eggs were roasted, arid; on the place'inhere we-stood,-holes were made, only one inch de'ep;,'through which papers were lighted for the gentlemen’s ci gars- ... ■ . ~ “ Soon ;we returned to our. ponies, began the descent, and will never forget, that aw fully grand scene! A black mountain, sigh ing, groaning breathing out fire and smoke. Ruined cifies, new villages, illuminated by its flames. ' The snowy mountains, rearing their white peaks to the clouds that caught tjie- golden , r glo w- of , Vesuvius, ,apd T fs;qke into silvery, light as the full moon rose tri umphant, when ' tfie volcano sunk -into gloomy, smoky darkness. -Nkples, beautiful white orescent City; lying '■ati-ourfeet ; the bay, gleaming with the thousand.lights that lay like a radiant coronet on the dancing waves; the deep blue belt of the Mediter ranean stretching out, an illimitable line, beyond,; and J.; awe-struck, weary; and sub dued, pondering on the Majesty that ‘rides on the clouds, and holds the seas in the hol low of His hand !”—2suenin<7 Bulletin. GRANDFATHER'S PET. This is the room where she slept, Only a year ‘- ,v ' Quiet and carefully swept, - • , Blinds and curtaips,like;snow., , There, by the bed, in the dusky gloom, She would "kneel with her tiny clasped hands, and pray!' ; Here is the little white rose of a-room, With the fragrance fled away. Nelly, grandfather’s pet, With her wise little face, — I' seem to hear her yet Singing about- the-place; But the crowds roll on, and the streets are drear, And the world seems hard with a bitter doom, And Nelly is singing elsewhere, and here Is the little white rose of a room. Why, if Bhe stood just there, As she used to do, With her long, light yellow hair, And her eyes ot blue, — If she stood, I say, at the edge of the bed, And ran to my side with a living touch, Though I know she is quiet,,and buried, and dead, I should not wonder much ; For she was so young, you know, — 'Only seven years old; AndAhe loved-me, loved me so, Though I was gray and old ; And her face was so wise and so sweet to see, And it still looked living when she lay dead, And she used toiplead for mother and me By the side of that very bed! I wonder, now, it ehe • Knows I am standing here Feeling, wherever she .be, We hold the place so dear? It cannot be that she sleeps too sound, Still in her little night-gown drest, To hear fiiy lieaVy footsteps round y In the room where she used to rest. I have felt hard fortune’s, stings, And battled in doubt and strife. And never thought much of things Beyond this human, life ; But I cannot think that my darling died Like great strong men, with their prayers untrue— Nay! rather she sits at God's own side,’ ' And sings'as she used'to do I 1 ’ Chambers' Journal. Gen. Grant’s brother Orville, like him spif, is very reticent. Last week, he was in (Galena, 111, when, 4 friend drew from his pocket a splendid kqife, and presented it to Mr.-Grant, making a, speech, which, for the spout of the thing, she spun out to consider able length. Mr. Grant responded as fol lows : “ Colonel, this is just what I wanted, thank you.” NECESSARY RULES OF SLEEP. There is no fact more clearly established in the physiology of man, than this, that the brain expends its energies and itself du ring the hours of wakefulness, and that these are recuperated during sleep. If the recu peration does not equal the expenditure, the brain withers—this is insanity. Thus it is that, in early English history, persons who were condemned to death by being present ed from sleeping, always died raving maniacs; thus it is also, that those who are starved to death become insane. The brain is not nour ished, and they cannot sleep. The practical inferences are three :—lst. Those who think most, who do most brain-work, require most sleep. 2d. That time “saved ” from neces sary sleep is infallibly destructive to mind', body, end estate. Gave yourself, your chil dren, your servants —give all that are under you, the fullest amount, of sleep. they will take, by compelling them to go to bed at Some regular hour, and to rise in the morn ing the moment they awake; and within a fortnight, nature, with, almost the .regularity of the rising sun, will unloose the bonds of sleep the moment enough repose has been secured for the wants of the system. This is the only safe and sufficient rule. And as to the question, how much sleep any one re quires? each must be a rule for himself. Great nature will never fail to write it out to the observer under the regulations just, given. WHAT,MUST YOU DO? Header, do you feel the slightest drawing toward God, the smallest concex-n about yOur immortal soul? Does you conscience tell you this day that you are not yet for given, and have not yet felt the Spirit’s power, and do you want to know what to do? Listen, and I will tell you. You must go at once to the Lord Jesus Christ in prayer, and beseech him, to have mercy upon you, and send you the Spirit. You must go direct to that open fountain of living waters,.the Lord,Jesus Christ, and you shall receive the Holy Ghost. (John vii. 39.) Begin at once to pray to Jesus for the Holy Spirit. Think not that you are shut up and cut off from hope. The Holy Ghost is promised to them that ask him. Give the Lord no rest till he comes down and makes you a new heart. Cry mightily unto the. Lord; say unto him, “ Bless me, even me also; quicken me, and make me alive,” ■ ■ I dare not, for my part, send anxious souls to any one but Christ: I cannot hold with those who tell men ,to pray for the' Holy Spirit in the first place, in order that they may go to Christ. In the second place, I see no warrant of Scripture -for saying so. l only‘see that if men feel they are needy, perishing sinners, they ought to apply first and foremost, straight and direct, to Jesus Christ. I see that he himslf says, “If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink.” (John viii. 27.) I know it is his special office to baptize with the Holy- Ghost, and that “in him alj. fulness dwells.” I dare not pretend to be more systematic than the Bible. I. believe that Christ is the meetings place between, God and the soul, and my first advice must always be, Go to Jesus, and tell your wants to him. ■ ' Header; remember this. I have told you what to do. You are to go to Christ if you want to be saved. — J. G. Ryle. FLOWEES IF THE PTJLPIT, I have seen a judge fake his seat, both in banco and at nisi ptivs, .witii a bunch of flowers before' him; but neyer, till last Sun day, do I remember seeing a bouquet in the pulpit. A bright spring morning, and the recollection of many,a pleasant and useful sermon. delivered by Mr. Lynch, tempted me to walk some miles, to the little unpre tending iron chapel in Morrington-road, where he ministers. And I was well repaid' by a characteristic sermon, at once genial and thoughtful, hearty and suggestive. Though delivered extemporaneously, it was evidently ,the result of deep . thought. But the introduction was as spontaneous as it was novel. A little bunch of spring flowers had been given him just before he went in to the pulpit, and with these in his hand he commenced his sermon. His text was 1 ■John i. 7, “ If we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His, Son cleanseth us from all sin." “ A friend,” he said, “ has brought me to church this morning a country offering— snow-drops and ■.violets, creatures of the light: scentless purity, touched with green: sweet color, and sweeter, fragrance. ¥e feel the spring before we see it, some, of us, indoors, and others yet happier out of doors have felt the spring these last few days; and the heart feels' an entry within itself of the purifying Word, the Word of Light. The heart itself shall be a garden abounding in creatures of light. In the first purity of the heart thereis, as it were, an aspect of cold ness, a blanched, infragrant whiteness; but presently there is color and fragrance too. Our first offering to Go.d from the darkness is, aB it were, a mere blanched, infragrant white; but our next offering—and so soon that, the two may be spoken of even as, coming.together—is the violet, of fair color and sweetest smell; often hidden in the green, but having powers in its life which will not let it be hidden,, so that the sweet ness carries us on to the sunny, southern bank, and we find it,, and take it, and hold it up joyously in our hand, or keep it in our bosom,.or put it on our work-table, or rest it upon a book, even upona Bible, as the old Scotch-lady- said with a touch- of super-. stition, which is often wiser than science, — 1 Nothing should lie upon a Bible but a flower.’ Can w& put a fragrant flower upon our Bible ? Can we offer unto God a heart that feels the coming spring, very wishful that it should come ? Can we offer unto God as a product of that heart a. desire to be pure, with a hope that He will blanch away the darkness of the old corruption ? that He will give unto us thoughts and acts in which there is beauty,.and which may have a savour even of Heaven ?” Christian World. CONVERSION OF CHILDREN EXPECTED. It cannot be God’s purpose that for four teen or sixteen years, children should grow up unregenerate —children of the. devil, and then by a violent revolution, a conversion, great change of heart and life, become his children. If they have grown up in sin; we cannot be too thankful for the grace that converts them. But why Bhould they grow up in sin ? Is it not God’s injunction that we “ bring them up in the nurture and ad monition of the Lord ?” And if we obey, shall we not, as a rule, realize the great promise of their pious manhood ? As a rule, we say—-for exceptions there will be, as there are to every law-; no culture will al ways ensure goodness^ —the tenderest father may mburii /andjheartless pro digal; tbe holiest Lome may be forsaken for the far country of riptous , living : but the exception does'not abrogate, the,law; piety will'be th e general issue'bf a pious and. wise education. Children trained for God will be found Gpd’s children; children nurtured forheaven will be found in heaven. May not our want, of faith .inthis,-issue be one great reason why we so frequently fail to realize it? Do we not almost take for granted an unspiritual childhood ? Is not our commonest idea of a child’s piety connected with a conversion in advanced youth ? And where this is the expectation it will almost necessarily color our feeling, give a hesitating character to .our efforts, and dash our prayer with latent-unbelief.' Gh if we fully expected that ouV Children would be consecrated from the womb, 'and trained them and prayed for them in the strong, glowing enthusiastic faith of such an. ex pectation, how much, more of heart, and vigor, and .joy, there, would be amour train ing, and how much oftener we should see its blessed result! Assuredly nothing can be more unscrip tural, more unbelieving, more godless; than morbid fears, and almost expectation, that the children whom G,od gives as.his “ heri tage” will be the children of the devil, — sinful and reprobate, that they will break the heart of the mother that' bore them, and “ bring down their father’s grey hairs with sorrow to the. graye.” This is the spirit of fear, and not of faith.; — Rev. Menry Alton. Advantage of pious parentage. David makes it his boast and , plea, “ O Lord, truly I am. thy servant and the son of thine handmaid.” “ Give thy strength unto thy servant, and save the son of thine hand maid.” It is surely something to be, as it were, born God’s child; to stand in the suc cession' of spiritual blessings. Surely the children of the godly have, humanly speak ing, vast advantages over others. Is, there not a stronger presumption and. guarantee that they too will be God’s ? Surely God mustregard them with special favor. Surely they are the better for the prayers offered over their cradle, —that bless their uncon scious life, that follow their dawning re sponsibility, that accompany, every step and ‘teaching of their course.; Monica prays, and though for a awhile her prayers seem disregarded by God and neutralised by her son, yet at length the influences of mater nal piety prevail, and her Augustine is given to her faith. “ The promise, is to ub and to our children.” We transmit our name, our physical constitution, our, property;—may we not transmit also our holy spirit and habit of life —our love to. God and goodness ? And then all that iB hereditary is ministered to by the myriad subtle influences of a parent’s love and authority. There ’is no pastor like a pious mother, to whom her child confesses every fault, and by. whom its every feeling is nurtured. .There, is no preacher like a pious father, whose words of wisdom arid example of holiness are an ever-present ministry. Parents regard your child as the heir of God’s blessings given to you, as a partaker with you of the Divine covenant, as a, beneficiary of the Divine promises. Let your home be its first church. Let the church be its second home. — Itev. Henry Allon. FAITH WOBKING BY LOVE. All true and lively faith begets love; and thus, that heavenly light is the vehicle of heat. Arid as, by this means, true faith has a tendency to the practice of obedience, so all true, obedience depends upon faith, and flows from it. All knowledge of mysteries is vain and of no value; unless it have an in fluence upon the affections, and thereby, upon the whole coinduct of life. The'lumi naries of heaven are placed on high ; but they are so placed, that they may shine, ; and perform their periods, for the benefit of this earth.-— Leighton. A clergyman, while sittingdn the gallery of the Connecticut legislature, when that body was putting through divorce cases, wrote the following impromptu : “ For eirf-ting all connect- ions famed Conriecl-I-cut is fairly named; I twain connect in one, blit you Out those whom I connect in two. Bach legislator seems to say, ‘ What you conjiect-I-cut away.’ ”
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers