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Preface.

MY DEAR CHILDREN,

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OVE ONE ANOTHER.-This is my motto for the present volume. And I say unto you again, "Love one Another," for Love is the heart's sunshine, and when days are dark and short, and nights are long and dreary, it is then, above all other times, that warm feelings and bright thoughts ought to cheer us. Our affections are like flowers, offering up daily incense towards heaven"Silent Hymns," and our deeds of Love, are as birds flying to and fro in the earth, making it joyful with their songs. Can birds sing any other but songs of love? can flowers breathe anything but hymns of Love? can the bright sun, the beautiful moon, the blue skies, the balmy airs, tell any other tales than those of Love? And what shall little children do who are in the jocund morning of life-the sweet bloom of existencelike birds newly fledged with joyousness? To them, air, and

light, and beauty, are full of heavenly talkings, and the rainbow of hope and faith is ever above them with its most glorious teachings. The heart beats like a merry tabor in the breast of youth, and all nature seems to dance to the sound in perpetual holiday. Then let Love be your motto, my little ones. Love all that is loveable on earth. Love all that is worthy of Love-your parents, your relatives, your playmates, your friends; aye, and even your enemies. Christmas is the Season of Love-it celebrates Peace on earth and Good Will towards man; and in this everlasting Song of Love and Mercy, make merry. Forgive those that may have wronged you: ask forgiveness of those you may have wronged, and be united with the tenderest ties of affection, that you may be the children of Him who is Love itself, and thus glorify him.

Believe me your old loving friend,

Poler Parley.

THE NEW YEAR.

aus Beo.-With these words, our forefathers, at least those of them who were tradesmen or merchants,

used to begin their Books-Books vastly different to PARLEY'S ANNUAL; equally useful, it is true-but not quite so entertaining; for they abounded in nicely-written figures -not of fancy, but of arithmetic. The words were good and proper-"Glory to God "-should be the motto with which we should begin everything. "LAUS DEO," poor old Peter Parley now says-and he can say it—and write it, too, with a sincere and heart-felt gratitude to the Giver of all Good, for mercies past; at the same time, he looks forward to the future, with "Hopes" that are not born of earth. "LAUS DEO," then, be the opening of this volume; and as we take further note of things material—of the heavens—of the world

-of men-of boys and girls-and the thousand "ills that flesh is heir to," and the thousand joys to which it is also born-let "LAUS DEO" be our motto. It shall be the burden of our song through all, and be with us in every varied posture, place, and hour.

It has often seemed to me as peculiarly fit and proper that the opening of the New Year should, in most countries (and

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particularly in those countries calling themselves Christian) be attended by the exercise of the most generous feelings; in the interchange of love between the members of families, or between our friends and acquaintances; and in "benevolence" to the poor and wretched. And it seems providentially ordered, in the latter case, that the time of the greatest cold and the greatest need, the greatest want and the greatest sorrow, should also be the time of the greatest love, the greatest warmth of heart, the greatest generosity, and the best cheer. God, in his tender mercy, has given to man the feeling of sympathy; and it is almost impossible for us to behold suffering and misery without being affected by it; and being affected by it, we seek to relieve it; and the relief of it is, according to the constitution of things, ordained by our beneficent Creator, attended by pleasurable emotion, sufficient to take away the bitter sting we experience in beholding wretchedness or sorrow. So that in doing all the good we can, we do ourselves a service; and thus reflecting, we are obliged to say, "LAUS DEO,"-"Glory to God,"—again.

Now, my dear young friends, let me say a word or two more to you on this "constitution of things." Do not resist the good impulses that spring within you; for every good and benevolent thought, every thrill of sympathy, every yearning for the poor and wretched, are of God. What we have in ourselves, as mere creatures of dust and ashes, is but poor stuff; but what we have in us of the heavenly and spiritual is of a glorious and eternal nature, born of God, and a witness of Himself within us. Quench not, then, the warm and delightful sunshine of the heart, but let it diffuse itself to all around. Let it revive the tender plant, bring forth the

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