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sweet odor. Yes, yes : I see! If one would be content, he must not look at those who are more favored than he is, but at those who are less so."

Master Schmidt now pressed a gold piece into the hand of the blind Raphael, and took a friendly leave, with the promise to repeat his visit soon.

Original.

THE BIBLE AND MOTHERS.

THE BIBLE—what a book! a book divine; a book of light and knowledge, of peace and comfort; a book revealing God to man, and man to himself; a book of wisdom, containing instructions for all times and all occasions, whose precepts can never mislead, whose promises and threatenings can never fail, but will certainly all be fulfilled ; a book for all persons—for the old and youngfor parents, and children, and friends—for masters and servantsfor those in authority, and who are to command, and for those who are subjects of law and government, and are bound to obey : -a book which contains purer and more lofty poetry, and richer and more stirring eloquence, than all other books; a book of biography and morality; of piety and devotion!

Mothers, O Mothers ! teach the Bible to your children. Be familiar with it yourselves, not only that you may know its truths for your own salvation, but that you may impart your knowledge of them to others, and to your children in particular. Imbibe its spirit and its temper. Lay up select portions of it firmly in your memory, that you may repeat them and explain them, and enlarge upon them easily and familiarly, to the delight of your little ones, even while they are yet very young-around you in the nursery, and through the day by your side, in their infantile employments. Lay yourselves out to impress Bible truth upon them; and resort to means and expedients to make these impressions indelible. Teach them by prints and pictures of Bible scenes, as Doddridge's mother taught him, by the pictures on the tiles around their fireplace. Captivate them by every device in your power, and fill

their young imaginations with incidents and narratives, beautiful and impressive, from the Bible. Thus, by hallowed impressions from this blessed book, you shall lay a foundation for early piety; or, should you fail to realize this in your precious charge, yet what else could you have done for their salvation, so hopeful at any time in life? Mothers—mothers, learn the Bible for yourselves, and teach it to your children.

H. J. L.

Selected.

“MY MOTHER NEVER TELLS A LIE."

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Sarah, you

A Few ladies had met at the house of a friend in the city of St. Louis, for an evening visit, when the following scene and conversation occurred :

The child of one of the ladies, about five years old, was guilty of rude, noisy conduct, very improper on all occasions, and particularly so at a stranger's house. The mother kindly reproved her.

must not do so." The child soon forgot the reproof, and became as noisy as ever. The mother firmly said : “ Sarah, if you

do so again, I will punish you.” But not long after, Sarah did so again. When the company were about to separate, the mother stepped into a neighbor's house, intending to return for her child. During the absence, the thought of going home called to the mind of Sarah the punishment she might expect. The recollection turned her rudeness and thoughtlessness into sorrow. A young lady present observing it, and learning the cause, in order to pacify her, said :

“Never mind, I'll ask your mother not to whip you."

“Oh,” said Sarah, “that will do no good—my mother never tells a lie.”

The writer who communicated the above to the St. Louis Obsever, said :-“I learned a lesson from the reply of that child which I shall never forget. It is worth everything in the training of a child to make it feel that its mother never tells a lie.”

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Original

FAREWELL TO DONG YAHN.

BY ELLEN H. B. MOORE.

“There is a breathing influence there,

A charm not elsewhere found,
Sad-yet it sanctifies the air,
The stream,

the ground.”—Mrs. HEMANS.

KIND forest child ! away-away-
0! urge me not, I may not stay;
But, on your breast this tear-drop lay,
While now with bursting heart I say,

Farewell, Dong-yahn!

Farewell, high rocks! and caverns gray !
Farewell, sweet flowers ! that smile so gay;
Farewell, my birds ! in bright silk clad,
Ye, who oft sung my lone heart glad,

In blest Dong-yahn!
We part, we part, O, Tropia glades !
We meet no more your vermeild shades;
Dyed shells are on your bosom borne,
But ah, they fade, like joys I mourn,

In old Dong-yahn!
And must I leave that Enga grove-
That bow'r of prayer we loved to rove ?
Yes, yes, your drooping paly flowers
Sigh with me now, o'er by-gone hours,

In green Dong-yahn!
Leave, too, that pearly, citron stream,—
O’er which a halo seems to beam ?
Where ransom'd spirits oft have bow'd,
And in the solemn stillness vow'd,

In wild Dong-yahn!
Have we not met in joy, and pain,
On this green dimpled-island plain ?
And blended each the smile and tear,
While spirit-music trembled near,

Here, in Dong-yahn!

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And, can I leave that temple there,
Where oft your teacher knelt in prayer,
When softly rose each fervent voice,
And angels whispered round, “Rejoice !"

In our Dong-yahn ?
And more than all, my pupils kind
Round whom affection's tendrils twin'd-
Must I no more your warm smiles see,
But wander now, far-far from thee,

Youth of Dong-yahn?
I

go, I go-farewell, farewell !-
I leave thy lovely, Christian dell :-
Break, break, O, bands! that round my heart
Have wreath’d, until I seem a part

Of my lov'd Dong-yahn!
“ The cup my Father gives to drink,"
Oh, shall I, grieving, 'neath it sink?
No, spirit weak! rise-soar on high !
There meet thy loves, and no more sigh

“Farewell, Dong-yahn!"
Oh, Holy Saviour! bend thee o'er,
And this revolted vale restore !
That, in the fearful day of doom,
These, all, may hear thy welcome “ Come,”

All, all Dong-yahn!
Maulmain, India, Feb., 1849.

THE BERE AVED HUSBAND.

I saw a mourner standing at eventide over the grave of one dearest to him on earth. The memory of joys that were past came crowding on his soul. “And is this,” said he, “all that remains of one so loved, so lovely? I call, but no voice answers -oh, my loved one, wilt thou not hear? Oh, death! inexorable death! what hast thou done? Let me, too, die—I would not live always. Let me lie down and forget my sorrow in the slumber of the grave !" While he thought thus, in agony, the gentle form of Christianity came by. She bade him look upward, and to the eye of faith the heavens were disclosed. He saw the inef

fable glory of God—he heard the song and the transport of the great multitude, which no man can number, around the throne. There were the spirits of the just made perfect-there was the spirit of her he so deeply mourned. Their happiness was pure, permanent, perfect. The murmuring husband wiped the tears from his eyes, took courage, and thanked God. “All the days of my appointed time,” said he,“ will I wait, till my change come.” And he returned to the duties of life, no longer sorrowing as those who have no hope. A few months passed, and he was sleeping in the grave of her he loved.

Original.
EVENING CONVERSATIONS.-N0. II.

BY THE REY, ROBERT SEWELL.

I FEEL extremely happy, said the youngest of the Howard family, that we are to devote this evening to some useful conversation, especially as papa is at home, to aid us in so interesting and profitable an employment.

Papa. As our last subject was upon the events of the past year, and the great blessings with which we are surrounded, in our happy country, I propose now to occupy the present evening with the history of the discovery of this great continent, and the momentous results that already have, and will hereafter, flow from so important an event.

John. I have sometimes heard it said, that Columbus was not the discoverer of America, but that it had been visited by individuals from the north of Europe long before he was born

Mamma. Admitting this to be the case, it by no means detracts from the genius and merit of Columbus, nor was such an idea of any assistance to this great navigator, because he did not set sail with the object of finding a new continent, but supposed that he should arrive at the East Indies.

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