sustain the great objects of benevolence. You should be ready, as temperance committees, to go from house to house on embassies of mercy. As collectors, you should be ready to take up the cross to solicit aid for the funds of Zion. If God has given you the requisite talent you should be ready, in the choir, to contribute to the interest of the services of the sanctuary. And you should rejoice in the opportunity in the Sabbath school of guiding children to the Saviour.

Oh, it is a wide field which God has opened for woman's occupancy. And many have gone from the faithful improvement of these opportunities to join the assembly of the saints on high. And no one who is acquainted with the present condition of the Church, or who is familiar with its past history, will hesitate to say that the sisters have done, and are now doing, at least as much to promote its prosperity as the brethren. And they have accomplished this great good, by cultivating that wide field which God has assigned to the mother, the sister and the daughter. The more you cultivate delicacy of mind and manners, a modest and unobtrusive deportment, the more powerful is your influence over every man's mind. And you cannot more effectually disarm yourself of woman's power, than by abandoning your own peculiar and expansive field of labor, and entering the more exposed and conspicuous field appropriated to man.

Original.

A BAD TEMPER.

ONE of the worst traits of character a person can possess, which occasions himself and others much inconvenience and unhappiness in the present life, is a bad temper. This may arise, to some extent, from the original physical constitution. Much depends, however, upon the treatment to which the temper is subjected in infancy and childhood. If its first developments are properly checked-if during the forming period of life it is restrained from violent outbreakings, its

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strength will be greatly diminished. But let the temper be unsubdued—let no effectual restraints be put upon it, and it will increase with the increase of years, until it has acquired a giant's strength and a giant's courage. The ungoverned passion of the child will make a slave of the man. He can never know when he will be his own master. Parents, then, have an important duty to discharge, in this respect, towards their children. They must endeavor properly to mould the temper by avoiding all unnecessary excitement, if possible, and by controlling it in every stage and degree of its development. In this way they may save both themselves and their children from a great amount of evil that must otherwise be experienced.

Original.

NURSERY LESSONS.

WE, as mothers, are often apt to speak of our children, especially in the early stages of their lives, as "very troublesome"" very tiresome"-"great charges," &c. This, it cannot be denied, is very often, if not always true, occasionally; perhaps more so with some children than others. But we must expect this, and when we do, we shall prepare to meet these circumstances as we do other events of our lives, which, though they may seem greater, are to us not more important.

A mother's home is her empire; there she reigns for the greater part of her time without rival, her children being her lawful and willing subjects. To them she must be, not only a queen to reign over them, but a judge to decide all their disputes; a counsellor, to assist them with her advice, and plead on their behalf; a governess, frequently, for many years of their lives; a physician and nurse in sickness and weakness, and a spiritual instructor and director at all times. And who, we may ask, who is sufficient for these things?

Not one, I would say, unassisted from above; it is there. we must look for help. But we shall not be disappointed, for to them that have no might he increaseth strength-and though we may be conscious of our total inability to perform duties so arduous, so complicated, yet with Christ strengthening us, we can do all things. I have lately thought, that while looking for this teaching from above, and endeavoring to impart it to the circle that are daily gathered around us, they, in their turn, may become our sweet and lovely instructors. This may not at first be apparent; but if we watch for those lessons, they will daily be presented to us. And can they fail to benefit? coming from such a source, returned back to us with a fourfold blessing, so that while endeavoring to cultivate and train up those little plants for the paradise above, we shall ourselves, through their instrumentality, be watered from on high.

As I may not be quite understood without entering more into detail, I shall mention a few of those lessons, as they have been from time to time presented to myself, in order that mothers may understand me when I say, that when they visit their nurseries, or when their little ones are permitted to visit them, they may often obtain, as well as impart instruction. "What is in that box?" said my little daughter to me one day, as she looked up to one which had been placed out of her reach. "Nothing," I replied. "Mamma, I should like to see," said the unsatisfied little one. But, said I, "Mamma said there was nothing in it, and that ought to be enough for her little girl. Mamma always tells truth to her little daughter." This was scarcely uttered when the monitor within whispered, what a lesson is here for me! God has said, may be prefixed to many things applied to ourselves; but though he is a God that cannot lie, this does not satisfy us we will not take his word for it-we must look in ourselves-we must see if he is speaking truly, and thus virtually imply a doubt in our belief of what he has told us, unless our eyes behold what he, perhaps, sees fit to keep out of our sight.

I punished my little daughter this morning for holding something more firmly in her grasp when I reached my hand for it. This I believe I felt to be a duty, but what a lesson did I see for myself in this circumstance! How often do we hold with a firm grasp whatever we see our heavenly Father reach forth his hand, as it were, to remove from us, lest we should injure ourselves, or were making an improper use of it. We must become as little children ought to be, before we are fit to enter into the kingdom of heaven. Arbitrary parents, are we to expect more from our children in their unrenewed state, than we, who profess to be the children of God, show towards him?

"I have got a knot on my thread," said a little girl to her mamma, after she had long tried, in vain, to remove it herself, which only made the task more difficult. "Come to me at once, the next time, before you give yourself so much trouble," said her mamma, as she gave her back her sewing, after having put all to rights. Here, I thought, is a lesson for me. A knot came on my thread lately, from reading a work in which dangerous and erroneous doctrines were introduced, which appeared to coincide with some isolated texts of Scripture. I could not untie it myself, and was made unhappy; but I brought it to Him who can make "crooked things straight," and he soon removed the difficulty, untied the cunning perplexity, and gave me light to see, which I should in vain have looked for without such assistance.

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"You shall not have anything you cry for," said I a few days since to one of my little ones. When I had uttered the words they seemed to be echoed in my own heart, and I paused to listen to the lesson I was to learn from it there. I thought of my last parting from my angelic mother. thought of the last kiss I impressed on her sweet lips, and the look she then gave me. I thought of my long and dreary voyage from my home and from my country; but worst of all, from my idolized mother. I recalled the time when night after night I watered my pillow with my tears, while "my mother's last kiss" seemed ever sounding like a death

knell upon my heart. I remembered that when I would try to say that sweet and lovely name, grief would choke my voice and refuse to give it utterance. I pined like a weaned child, and my heart-strings seemed as if breaking by this afflictive separation. Instead of meditating on the God who gave her to me, in the silent night-watches, I mourned and sinfully repined for being separated from her, allowed pettish and angry feelings to take possession of my heart, and neglected to look for submission under this trying bereavement.

I feel that I deserve the chastisement under which I am now suffering. It was "my mother's last kiss"-I shall never see her more in this world. I long hoped that I might have returned to my father's home before she was gathered to her people, but it seemed as if the Lord had said, “Let it suffice thee, speak to me no more of that." I heard of her triumphant departure, but was not permitted to see it.

“My trembling spirit owns it just,

But clings yet fondly to the dust."

A MOTHER.

Original.

THE VOICE OF THE WATCH.

My early years were full of serious joy. I was fatherless from infancy. I never knew a sister's love. But nature was parent and playmate, sister and mother to me, and my heart was an image of her unsorrowing face, far back as I can remember. Yet even nature taught me the need of grace. When I complained to her of the aching void the world could never fill, and asked for happiness, she frankly answered, "it is not in me." It was then soft and mournful music stole over me from Calvary and the cross, and drew me to the bosom of the Saviour; and I did not love nature less, but Jesus more. Many years I professed the faith of the gospel, and dwelt in the gates of Zion. Zion was my