r* 11?tantilis Cirtts.
A BRIGHTER DAY FOR SPAIN.
BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.
The following verses were written in October of
1 he year 1867, about a twelvernonth before the over
throw of the reign of the Bourbons in Spain, and
were published about the same time. One part of
the prediction they contain has been fulfilled—the
downfall of the late tyrannidal government—and it
remains to see whether an era of rational liberty
and enlightened legislation will succeed it.—. New
York Evening Post.
Harness the impatient years,
0 time! and yoke them to the imperial car;
For, through a mist of tears,
The brighter day appears,
Whose early blushes tinge the hills afar.
A brighter day for thee,
0 realm I whose glorious fields are spread between
The dark, blue Midland Sea
And, that immensity. ,
Of Western waters whiclitonce bailed Shed , ' quecifi I
The fiery coursers fling .
Their necks aloft, and snuff' the.morniffiriiiidr
Till the fleet inoinedts bring ,
The expected sign to spring
Along their path, add leavc theee glooms.behifid:
Yoke them, and yield the reins
To Spain, and leitil l ,her_to.thaJojty,,seato. t
But, ere,shemountole chains
Whose cruel 'strength constrains
Her limbs, must fall in fragments at her feet.
• A tyrant brood have wound
Abopt'ker 'bery4es limbs the steely braid,
And toward a gulf profound
T• t heyAil:filtel,LaigectiydAngil,siv l
Down sloneiVittiefrtst Med shade
•
O Spain ! thou wert of yore
The wonder I:sfthieNnclitis ; in iiimider'yeitis
!Th i y;l;laughty: forehead lore,
What it shall wear no more,
The diadem of both thellethispheres.
thee ate tut d'een
Revealed his,. pleasant, undiscovered lands ;
From mines where . jewels sleep,
'Tilledliltan and
; Earth's.richest spoil was uttered to thy. hands.
Yet thou, when land and sea
Sent theallkeir tril..tute with each rolling wave,
'And kingdoms crouched to thee,
~ . IWert false3o Libefty; .
And therefore art thou now a shackled slave.
Wilt thou not, yet again, • -
Put forth the sleeping strength, that in thee lies,
li
And force the tyrant train
To flee before the anger ! in.. thine eyes? •
Then . shall-the hai'neseed years
Sweep onward with thee to that glorious height,
Which . even now appears,
Biiglit'tlireugli the.niist'of tears, .
The dwelling-place of Liberty and Light.
THE HARD SUM.
"I cannot do the, um ; indeed I canno+,"
mnrmuaed,Cecil Gray, in a tone of•despair,
mg he sat at the cottage door one bright
morning, with a slate in. his hand and an
arithmetic befdre'hirtt.' •
It wa's hdlidaY time, and 'that was the
reason why Cecil was not at school, as usu•
'al. His 'father had given him a sum to do
—partly because he did not like him to be
always at play, and partly because Cecil's mas
ter had complained sadly of his idleness and
inattention with regard to arithmetic. Cecil
wits neither a very dull nor a very bright
boy: his abilities were moderately good,
and he could get on very well if he chose
to exercise a little patience and persever
ance; but he was so indolent that he would
not do, anything that required trouble, if he
cou;d possibly avoid it. Ho disliked exer
tion> so much that he would rather suffer an
inconteitietiCe - than take pains to remedy
it. His father obserVed, with'' much con
'c;ern, this feature in his character
_; for he
.was afraid that Cecil would grow up one
of those indolent, useless men who neither
de good to themselves nor to others.
Cecil's mother 'was not living. It was
perhaps owing to her early management,
or rather mismanagement, that Cecil dis
played such a want of energy ,• for she had
always allowed him, , under the plea of deli
cate health, to do just as he liked. And as
Cecil liked idly lounging about and playing
far better than any active employment, he
generally did so. It was not until it was
necessary to, send him to school that his
father bedame fully aware of hislunwilling
nese to exert himself.
"I cannot d'ojt," was always Cecil's,com
ment on any branch of study to which he
was required to give his attention; and,
unless he was compelled to perform a task,
lie would not make,any effort to do it. How
unpleasant it is to have to instruct such
boys! It is like dragging a person who will
not rnoVe, if he can help it, up a steep' in.
"I cannot do thiS sum, indeed I cannot,"
was Cecil's mournful exclamation, as he sat
on the door-step with his slate and pencil.
These' , words were , answered lay a, pleas
ant voice from within; and that voice be
longed to his eldest sister, his sister Jane.
" Cannot do it, Cecil?? Why, you have not
tried for five minutes yet."
"I cannot do it," repeated Cecil; "so it
is of no usetrying."
" Yes; bUt it is a great deal Of use, deCil ;
fiki, if yowreally try, you will 'succeed, Ohe
figure at a,time, and you , will soon manage
the whole sum."
•But I cannot do it, I know I cannot,"
peristfd Cecil, and as he laid down his slate
and walked slowly up to the table where
la§ eis - ter wakironing. He leaned his elbows
on the table , and rested his head on his
hinds,. as if he did not mean to make any
turther attempt.
"
Come; Cecil,', said his sister, cheerfully,
" I am working for you,,ironing• your shirts,
so you ought not to be
' "Oh 'jt, is easy enough to iron," said
Cecil e iitthercentenriptuotisly; "besies, you
know how to iron very well."
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN THURSDAY, DECEMBER 17, 186 g.
" Yes," said Jane, " but I should not know
how if I had not learned. Mother used to
show me the proper way to fold, and starch,
and iron ; and then I tried to imitate her.
I could not do it very well at first, to be
sure; but practice makes perfect,' you
know; and now what a good thing it is that
I can'iron all the things, instead of having to
pay for their being done 1 It will be just
the same with your ciphering ; only set
about it in good earnest, and you will be
able to master it. Do not be conquered by
a sum, Cecil."
"But I do not like ciphering," grumbled
the boy, as he pushed his finger through
one of the button-lioles of his newly-ironed
shirt.
" And I do not like ironing," replied Jane,
quickly; " but that does not signify, when.
we see a thing to be our duty, we ought to do
it, whether we like it or not."
This reasoning was not exactly in accbrd
ance with Cecilia ideas, and he was about to
argue the patter • further; but *hen he
looked Up from the, ironing-board to his sis
ter's heated but cheerful countenance, he
felt ashamed to do 130 ; and after a few mo
ments' irresolution, he actually marched
back to • his seat at the door; took up his
glee and deteruiined to work out his tire
some sum. " lie would do it, that he would ;
and let Jane see that he,could conquer Ail_
culties as well as• other people:
He
He was in• the midst of hirrsum, and •just
calculating how-,-many, nines there are in
fifty-seven, when 41, 7 y one„of a his
schoolfellows and classmates, came past,
beating his hoop. He stopped short on see
ing Cecil ; and; on perceiving . what his{ em
-015.0-16nt 'wlett;loudly expressed his ttstonv
ishment and syinpitthk.
" What, do you %.hal , e do sums in the
holidays?: and lors such a beautiful• day; too?
It is too - bad- of your father, it• really is;
Cecil; and if'l were you, I would net put
up with it , Come, throw dcwnyour
. slate,
and get your. bOop and `beater, and have a
nice run with me."
Cecil dec,lined. theirryitation. His father
had desired him not to,leave the house until
he had finished the sum ; and Cecil, al
though, an, indolent, was net a disobedient
boy; yet, as he listened to the sound of
Harry's hoop. in. the :distance; hofelt vexed
and discontented to think that he could not
join -him.
"Never mind, Cecil," said • Sane, who
guessed what fiisSeelings were : " there is a
time for everything; and now is the time
for work, not play. Do not think of What
Harry •Mason says; but get on as fast as
you can with your sum." -
Cecil, made no reply, ; except a practical
one f fOr'lliaafster soon found, by the move
merit of his pencil and the repetition of his
figures, that he had applied himself his ;
work. . Presently,. Cecil came into the
kitchen with a bright smile and a well-filled
slate, announcing the successful termihaL
tion of his induAtiotts'attompt. 'lt Nvlo3
1 ,44 willing and vigorous endeaier fo wirer
come a difficultY ; and the satisfaction and ,
happiness which resulted from so doing can
be understood only by those who have made
a similar effort.
The Completion of that sum marked a
new era in Cecil's life. He had that morn
ing begun to re6rk. True; he had done a
sum before,.but he had, not done it, in that
hearty; earnest manner whiels is essential
to real labor. Now he felt how much more
pleasant, how much more manly it is. to
employ with diligence those faculties which
God has given us, than to let them lie' der_
mant,.aa if we didnot valtie.thein..l .
Cecil had gained the victory, not only
over his perplexhiginni; birt - over himself ;
and to conquer self ie. always a noble
achieiretneritt Life 413 cdritinuali 'struggle
between right and wrong, between , self.and
duty; and although one coriquest does not
win the battle, it is at least s:'Step 'towards
it.
Cecil found this to be the case; and so
will you, if you try, my dear reader.
BOASTING.
Anna Strong was a , sad little ,boaster.
Though she meant to speak the truth, she
was so vain 'and thoughtless that no one
could-believe her.
She always witv_ted a long lesson`; she
would say: "I can.learn it alit itis..not• too
hard for me ;" 'though when her class was
called out to xec:itt?, shexas very often sent
back to her seat to study.
If anything was to be done at home or at
school, Anna would say, "I.- know how,
please let inn do it;" even if it was a thing
she could not do at all.
Miss. Eaton was Anna's teacher. One day
she wished some one to point to the names
of the cities on a large map, so that all the
girls in •the class might know where te, find
them.
"Oh, let me do it," said Anna; "I know
how as well as can be."
"Yes, you may do it," said. Miss Eaton; but Anna could not point, to alsinglehanie
that Icer teacher called. ' ' '
" You are like a silly,liAls,,pizeon I used
to hear about when I was a little girl," said
her teacher. "The story is, that -when the
pigeon !List' eallw had ithe world, all the
other birds came, and 'offered' ddet to build
a nest.
,"•The cat-bird showed her ita neat-all
made of sticks and bark ; and the sparrows
showed her theirs, which were woven with
moss and hair. But the pigeon', walking
about in a very vain •way, and turning her
head from side t o o side, said, I know how
to build my nest as well aa the:heiit of you!'
"Then the blackbird showed his nest,
which was 'fastened to some reeds and
swung over the water; and the' turtle-dove
said hers was easier ' " to build than all, for it
was quite flat; and made only of , sticks laid
together. But the pigeon turned her pretty
head as before, and said- know•+how
"At last the_• birds left her. . Then the
pigeon found that she - did ntitlibolir at all;
and she went without a neat' until a man
took pity on her and built her a pigeon
house, and put some hay into it.
" Now children ; though the story of the
pigeon is only a fable, and not true, yet you
may learn from it a useful lesson.
" Little boys and.girlS Who are vain boast
ers, are laughed at by others, and only de
ceive themselves." Like the silly pigeon
they say, "I know . how !" but they often
find to their sorrow When it is too late, that
they do not.
" lleinemher when you once learn to do
anything well, you will not need to boast of
it
LITTLE OilILI)BEVS WORK.
We remember being intch struck, by. a
little story, showing that " a word fitly
spoken,' or, to use the expressive, Itobrow
reading, given in the margin, "a word spok
en upon wheels,",, even- by the weakest and
youngest, is precious as-gold and silver.
One day a boy was tormenting a kitten;
when his little sister said to him, with tear
ful, eyes; ."Oh !Philip ; dont do It; is,Grpd's
kitten."'
The word of the little 013 C was not lost ; it
was set upon wheels.'Pliilip left off torment
ing the kitten, but Many tholighti were
awakened in this mind Tegarding th 3, crea
tures he, had. before considered his own pro.
perty.! '
" God's kitten,
~Go- d s creature; for He
made it.," It wits .
Tphokeit dgy, he m"et!
one of his companionA;who.was,beatingsun-!
mercifully, a• poor, starved looking' dog.
Philip ran up to hill - , a 04 ,, almost uncon
sciously used his eisier's worfilti, id 4e, c tus t id,,
"Don't, don't; it is, God's,ereattire:''...
The boy looked abiashed, and:
that, the dog had. '
icever mind,n said " twit/ give
you mine, which I • have inssmy,:ihalskset.p9
and; 'Sitting, dowri tbgether,- the 'little ',l3ey's
anger was soon forgotten.,,,,, s
Again had a word , been unconsciously set
upon wheels. Two passers-by heard Philip's
words; one, a young marein predperoue'bril
mess in the ,neighhOri,ng town, and 'the
other a dirty and 'ragged being, whcyin.con
sequente' of his- inteillperate'habite;4adthit
morning been, dismnsed , by his , employer,
arid was now going home sullen'arsddbspair
ing.
" God's'eteaturel " said the poet. forlorn
one ; and it was a, new idea, to hiin also.
" If I, too, belong to God, be will take care
of me; though no one' else will."
Just then, ho came to a publio houtie; where
he had been in , the habit of drowning his
miseries, and then staggering home, to inflict
new ones on his wite.and children. He stop
ped—the temptation was, strong; Wit the
new` idea was stronger. "I am God's crea
ture!" and he passed oh.
His wife was astonished to, see him sober,
d
an still more when he hsirst intqleitis ?
blitring that he was a-niihed man, but :that
he was determined tb , tiVb up drinking, aucl
, totrust in God. •
At that moment a knock was heai'd at the
door, and the gentleman came in to whom
we have before alluded. He, too, had been
rebuked by the boy's words for the word
andlorittiug•ivhieti t ptithe miser
able object before him. " God's creature,
therefore entitled to hell) and pity."
We need not detail the *orb of hope and
comfort; :thee VorniffirAild pp - Nl:op:Vance of
active assistance, which in a, shortitime lift
, ed up the poor man's head, and made him
one of,'God'atkankful.,Aeyfel "creatures."
It Vciula be Well for he-till; old ah young,
to remember that. pur words and actions,
yea, our thoughts also,, are. set Alison never
, stopping; wheels, aid On into the
pathway' of eternity.
T-HE MUMMY,
The Belgravia Aisdourses at length upon
the Egyptian practice of embalming, the
dead,,and of the effect upon Egypt's civili‘-
tyo r n the piqictiCS and the *eligion of
which'it 'was typical wrought. Wei condense
a portion of thdpaper:
The Egyptyans have neve . l:.helen surpass
ed 'in the religious veneration and, Obseiv
allot) which they expended in, these integu
ments of flesh u.nd-bone, which we must all
shuffle off some day or other, and which a
Grecian philosopher 'desdribed, on 'seeing a
corpse, as the shell of a flown bird.
The, an'c'ient'. EgyPtiitin religiously rev
erenced the body as a sacred deposit which
the soul of , the departed had left behind •
a pledge of iminertality, whose 'preservation
and welfare were indissolubly connected
with that'of the spirit itself; whose . dishonor
would incur punishment, for, the living, as
well as torment `for the dead. The body, in
fact, was almost as diVine as the soul ; and
kings 6.rta 'chieftains were worshiped in:the
flesh, as much au in the spirit.
The greater part of the national exist
ence of Tggypt, it has been said, seems to
have been spent in a struggle against the
natural laws be corruption for about fonr or
five thousand years : and the long ranges of
paummy-cases, with their painted' decors,-
tions, with , their monotoneus uniformity of
alruorid-stiffped - eyes* and hieroglyph - les in
decipherable to the uninitiated, stowed away
in cduntless cifYptkratid vaults, like the rolls
of papyrus on the shelves of a Roman
library, represent well the interminable
Sirhilhrity'ethe yekt'S of Egyptian 'history.
This veneration of:the'rniimmy - , of death
in
,an artificial, monotonous ,for re,, was a
perniCiOnaly education for'" 'nation.
. . The greatness of the reign Hof a
monarch was measured by the size of the
pyramid he could raise or the depth of the
hypogeitin Which he sooopedout of the biotin
tain fbr the reception of his SibliVelled bitu
minous corpse. Egypt was little else than
a kind of tomb. The painsi and prodigality,
and expenditure of human life with which
a king endeavcired. to Wfthin
tain of stone one chamber-wbere his
Whiains might rest foreVei.' ilia
inviolable security, denote one of the most
singular psychological conditions ofhumanity
in the whole history of the race.'
' Not only were all human beings em
balmed after death, from the monarch, who
was richly adorned and placed in his lordly
resting place, to the slaves encased in dried
palm-leaves, but all animals, domestic or
will, consecrated by the fetish worship of
Egypt, were also subject to the process—
cats and dogs, ichneumons, crocodiles, sea
rabmi, and. serpents. Egypt, alr, we have
said, expended its existence in one inter
minable revolt against the tyranny'of death,
and undertook the defence, not only of
humanity, but of the brute creation, both
in its useful and its noxious members, against
the laws of corporeal dissolution ; and in
deed so mechanically fossilized became life
in Egypt that the infroMeAble inhabitants
of each gigantic necropolis must have
seemed almost, as ,much alive as their des
cendants, whose whole energies were ex
pended in makingprepaiatiOns for sepulchral
state when released from the • ennui and:
monotony of daily life.
For the whole land of ancient. Egypt
became but a kind of vestiktile of the se-.
pulchre—the people lived , in' , order, to diet
and the chief care of men and women infest,
have been to become decent mumtniest-tthe
hot/lies 'and pal..tces of the living.were- mere.'
temp'or'ary Objects compafdd, 'with . drat
eternal - resting - place n o which, :according
to the condition of each, all' the'
ait 'of. Egypt Were tO'be Tavi'Shed.'
LAA
During thwoCenpitucy'of thb
cow by the French.,arffot Tarty l of offi
cers.an& solALeis*iermined" to Vave a mili
tary lelveb`, awl" for 4. tti's - Purpose chose the
deserted,palace -of ,a r pobl, eman.fiThat T night
the city *Wit.' set 64-'444:.' As the went
001411ific.)tr:ibeg4Dit0 . 3 . 1313taAble..::!TheiwolinatTo
who .followed the fortunes of the French
army were decorate & foT . tile; occasion. The
gayest and noblest of the army were there,
d liciOttireletkt frei giyedi btir t - tblet, cr.-001,
During ;the ,danep the fire rapidly,,ap•
preached, they `saw it coming,',but
felt no fear. At len g th the building' next
the'ther'debbliie 4 tirtiS on fere.
to the,Winde*s, they gized, upen the hilrows
of fire which swept hci , .eity„ and theri ; re:
turned amusements. and
again they left tfieir pleasure's to watch' the
progriss of the flames. At length the dance
ceased, and the necessity of leaving the
scene of merriment became apparent to all.
They were enveloped ins,. flood of fire, and
gazed'on *Ali deep and`awfill solemnity.
At last: the fire, communicating to their
Own buildings caused 'them to prepare .for
flight; when a brave youngb officer, named
Oirnot, waved his jetteled hand above his
head, and., exclaimed:" One. dance more,
and deffai'delaVilYildes. 6 '.:tll i ctinght the
entlitibiasitiof the Moment; and " One datide
more, and defianoe"to the flanieb,"“hu'rst
from the lips ; ofail. The. , daAce cpmmenced;
louder andttotilfAr gieWthe - sound of music,
and 'fister and faster - fell 'the pattering foot
steps of dancing men and women,. when
sudderilyl hey) arday:4f' Tlie' fere has
reached the magazine..l Fly—fly . for your
life 1 ." One moment they stood transfixed
with terror ;, they did not know the magi,-
kine Wit's there and ere They reeotered from
their stupor the vault'exploded ; the build
ing was, shattered to pieces, , and the dancers
were hurried into a fearful eternity.
Thus will it be in the final day. Men will
be as dareleSS as these ill-fated revelers
yea, there are thousands and tens of thou
sands as• careless, now. We speak to them
of deaths the grave, judgment, and eternity :
They pause a moment in their search for
pleasure, but ElOOll dash into the world and
forgetfulness befiiie. God's hand ,is laid
on them in sickness; 'but no sooner are they
restored than they forget it all, and , hurry
on.. Death enters their homes, and the cry
is heard, ",Prepare to, meet thy Gbd !" but
soon, 'like Cannot, they say, " One dance
mores'and defiance to the flaineS," and hurt.
ry on. The Spirit o the , l4ng God speaks
powerfully bathe tdNheir Ilearts,„and they
shake, tremble, and aril amazed ; but earth
watts its` spell 'around' them, ante itngs - to
them its songs; and with the cry, "time
enough," " by and by," they speed on, stifling
the voice, till often, ere days or months have
passed, the bolt has sped, the sword his
descended, the JUdge has borne, and the
soul is lost for,ever—lost nosT, LOST! !
46 Then haste, sinner, haste, , t,here is mercy for thee,
And wrath is preparingflee, lingerer, flee'!"
TRUST IN GOD;
My father was, you know, a, bunter of
fi.ai
men, and'a er of men. He Used to hunt
sqiiirrels and Catch trout. And he carried
his - Ven'arY,, and piscatory instincts into the
pulpit—as he, ought to have done.
When Dr. Cornelius, who' 'was Secretary
of the American I3oard, died, father had a
hard day. cannot understand,' he said,
what the Lord means when His work
needs just such a than as Cornelius, and he
takeshim awayin the prime of life, at a 'time
when he is carrying on the work success
fully, and there is nobody to take his place.'
Yes there was. , Dr. Wisner took it. But
he carried it only a few years, when he died.
I very distinctly remember the morning
when father was preparing his sermon to
preach over Dr. 'Wisner . NtHeels drag
ged ITh - wr Erverfmuch east down..
TApugh T;' , Wq,siquite yonngf he said to nit.
done.l, islWifcloitte !ta
- cannot see what the Lord means. He is
making breach on breach. There is so'
mtioh~'tordo'aipt feFie it
taking the best of them'
mkarltdd as ;thbngli; he!
thought that if he stood from under, a part:
of the heavens at, least would come dow,p.
Istritigh
up, as though he were helping to carry thel
''uniderse. faney'it; *TS the in-:
'''bf work. ."ThOWVits'llie''t3Viitie ltft
work in him clear to the bone and marrow.
I think I love to work as well as he did;
but I got from my mother what be did not
from his. I have carried all my lifelong a
sense that the work was so vast that no
man, I did not care who he was, could do
more than a very , little; that he who could
raise us children from the stones to Abra
ham, could raise up men when he had a
mind to, and men of the right kind, and put
them in the right place; that after all the
Lord . was greater than the work, and that
it was of no use for me to fret myself, and
set myself up to be wiser than Providence;
all I was called upon to do was to work-" ; up
the meature of my wisdoin :and. :strength ;
and be willing to go wherever God sent me,
and then I was' to 'be - content.—H. W.
Beecher.
ABBREVIATIONS:
A much respected lady of our city, in the
prime of life, mother of an interesting fam
ily, recently lost her life from the fact that
her physician, in a prescription sent to an
apothecary, abbreviated a word, instead of
writing it out, as he ought to have done, in
full. For a slight nervous disorder, he pre
scribed the Use of assafintida, of which a
stated number of pills were to be taken
each morning. To designate the medicine,
li`c4e,ver, he Was . e.ontent, to employ only the
first two letters of the word, "0." and
even these were not legibly written. The
druggist , supposing them to be "At.," instead
of putting ust assaketida, sent the same
quantity' of altopia inoSt - ileiidijr . kOison,
from: the: ,efiects.oewibich, after having en
dured untold agony) the u n for tun at e woman
Wo have riev,cr, blenabie tb un
deisland ine senserWtlice p 5l ilirbsciiihy ? of so
many.abbreviated words, as some writers
are addicted toc.amt •no little annbyanco
and losli of *likable time db we eperienee
On thWitecorint, in Preparing for the Printer'
many, of the manuscripts sent ns. Wegive,
a.few samples. One correspondent. writes
" A new> El L. oh: Was' dud. on W. mbr. Nov.
68, inthe vil. of co : of
ele*. NC. E . of the L 13 , and W R"
These letters, rekr,
,of coarse, to some
church dedication, which.took place on soine
day, in, some village, located in somer county
and state, on some rail=way. Another
writes : "The an. of the lid: rad Iteh Sys.
is warmly appd, by all true - fis: of tlid - G. S."'
Another writes : " Con con!. purs. to adj.'
and el. a Pr. She; Tr. ilnd 'es.`-to adj. to the
lst,Wed:preo. the Ist Fr. •in the-m.'of No.,
.y.'69" Now;
to print an article in that
way, would not be endured: Then, why not
in all oases write out the.worde full; and
spare us the trouble of guessing at their
meaning, or abeertaining it froM other
Sources ? Are peri, ink, and pap er , so scarce
that they must be thus economized ? We
will.•,esteem,•it, a favor, therefore„•if,corres
pondents will avpid this style ,of writing,
aa our best correspondents, do,, and adapt
their manuscripts more to the character of
the C 1 1387:RVI&R; as , it , lies - prftrled s before
them.--Lutheran Observer.
"THAT' WE I"
A peer Hottentot, in Sontliern Africa,
lived with 'a . giSed''Diltelirckari; wli& kept up
&billy piiyer daily. One day lie read, "Two
met tristitnil to the Willa 'to thiLy." The
poorsaiage, whose heart Was already
awakened;` diaidstV• at the reader,
and whiSpieked, " Nu* ' I'll leh'en to pray."
The Datehriiiin read I .Lord, I thank
thee that lam tat aiiTithek men." "No, I
am n'ot, but I ain worise,"'Whispcired the
H ottentOt 'again. The Dutchman read : " I
fast twice in the week, I give thithes of all
that I possess!' ~" dore,t,dn,that s ;,l don't
pray in that manner, ...What shall I do ?"
said the , distressed savage. Theigood man
read on until he came to the' publican , who
" Wcialdnot=lift ., so much as .hiliv-a.yea tto, hea
ven." " That's 'rah," dried his hearer.
"'Stood far off,"' read the andr. "That's
where I aria," Shia the H'itittentrit. "Bat
infote God 4 ki4). sin-
rier!' ," That's me; that% • litayer,
mercifid to me," cried the poor savage, and
smiting on his dark breast i , he prayed "God
be merciful to me a sinner,' until, like., the
poor cpublican, he lient down to his house a
saved'and happy man.
A TEACHER'S TAOT:
A lawyer in Philadelphia, fifteen 'years
ago, took a clasp of lioys,,w)io, , ,irery sudden
ly became youn g men, and refused to attend
the , school. They , formed themselves into a
curb-stone, or lamp post class; and this good
man saw •th'atif they shouldfpassifinally be
yond the restraints of the sanctuary , , they
would go fast to destruction. , Ile did not go
to them and say; " Boys't ytki"Olti dinturb•
in g the congregation, you ii,Pe great' iinis
ance I" and pass them, sternlyrand piously
by No;, he .said,t to them, ".Young men,
'would ydit not like; to meet .the , this after
noon, and spend a pleasant hour of" so to
gether?" " : Yen;"'tii+?'''";" Ilniebre shall we
go?"" Therfound , a room• up in the belfry
of the church. There 'they met him all
summer, long. 0110` the writer has seen
them,, and kilined theinin,their lusty choru
ses of praise, viten igt; swift, perspiration
would pilfsu'e 'its , way down fromromp their
broWs„ in. their earnest interent and effort
i n, ' Bingirig i the ''Only two of
tnone more than a - aoien boy:Ouriied out
badly. The secret of that good teacher's
success '""was in bier understandingb oy-nature,
and in his making
_himself one with them
and of them. , ,
. •
I'r haiing been hinted to the barrister,
who was worrying -the court with a long
anti kitilintgattienk t titlit- he _Aught to. bring
it to a,olose,,
-e. 'angritYi replied : I will
speak- as long 1111 I please : ll ”Aiou.ikaile spn
'ken longaAr.than ‘yon alueadyi" said his
antagonist. ,