The Office of this Publication is removed to No. 21, Cornhill, on the right, passing up. BINDING. The subscriber will bind The Mother's Assistant and Young Lady's Friend, in handsome cloth, for 25 cents. Two volumes in one, in half morocco, for 42 cents. Binding of any kind, also, neatly done. No. 21, Cornhill. WM. C. BROWN. WANTED.. Twenty-five energetic men, of pleasing address and good moral character, are wanted as agents to obtain subscribers for this work, to whom a liberal premium will be given. WM. C. BROWN, Editor and Publisher, No. 21, Cornhill. Boston, Nov. 1, 1846. NOTICE.-No returned numbers of this work are taken out of the Post Office, unless the postage is paid. Each person who obtains a new subscriber will be entitled to have his own copy bound gratuitously. CONTENTS. MOTHER'S ASSISTANT. Page. HOW CHILDREN MAY MAKE THEIR PARENTS HAPPY, [Prize Essay,]-Miss Mary A. Bright, ON THY KNEE.-Lyman W. Hall, .... LEADING CHILDREN TO GOD.-N. Y. Evangelist, LITERARY NOTICES, MUSIC,. ...... 121 ... 139 140 141 143 144 See third page of cover. [OBTAINED A PRIZE OF TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS.] HOW CHILDREN MAY MAKE THEIR PARENTS HAPPY. BY MISS MARY A. BRIGHT, OF BANGOR, ME. THERE is something more than magic in the word HOME. There is an inspiration in it which few other words possess. It comes to the heart linked with the tenderest scenes and enjoyments of life. Its very sound the mere sight of it on paper brings up from the soul's hallowed depths, memories which never slumber, associations the dearest and purest which belong to earth, and such as give to earth whatever it possesses of the harmony and bliss of heaven. Who that has ever known the blessedness of a Christian home, needs to be told, that there alone is found 'The only bliss of Paradise, Which has survived the fall'? Occupations the most delightful, pleasures the most satisfactory and refined, relationships the most endearing, sympathies the most tender, and influences the most ennobling and holy, belong to its economy. To the young, the paternal home is emphatically the paradise of earth; the birth-place of their hopes, the sanctuary of their hearts. And it is in their power to do much toward rendering it all, and more than all, that their vivid imaginations, in their happiest moments, sometimes portray it. There is a satisfaction in addressing the young which is not felt in addressing any other class of persons; for, however it may be with those who have long been accustomed to repel all impressions from without, and seal up all the fountains of emotion within the young, we know, have hearts willing to feel; and they are not slow to recognize a friend in the individual who comes to them with the aspect and language of kindness. Among them I never feel myself a stranger. The face, the voice, the forms, and movements of childhood are to me the poetry of life. They come home to my heart like the music of Spring's earliest bird; like morning showers upon the leaves of summer. Permit me, then, my young friends, as one of yourselves,—for I have not yet advanced so far in the pilgrimage of life as to be quite separated from you in years or sympathies, permit me to converse with you a few moments about that little world, your HOME. It is, as I have said, a delightful spot, and it may with propriety be called your world. For is it not nearly all the world to you? Where will you look for hearts as fond, as faithful as these, 'The early, loved, and true'? What scenes so happy, what hopes so inspiring, what joys so satisfying as those which cluster round your childhood's home? When absent from it for a little season, where do your thoughts most love to wander? And whither does your heart turn with the most earnest longings? No matter how humble the paternal roof, or how obscure the group it shelters, there are the ones who love you best, and who of all the world are most beloved by you. That cherished spot you desire should ever be the abode of happiness; and surely, if there any soil this side of Paradise where that heaven-born plant may flourish, it is here: but happiness, you know, is not a plant of spontaneous growth on earth; it must be cultivated with care by all who would possess it. be Allow me, then, kindly to ask my young readers, what efforts are you making to render happier the beloved ones around you? In your intercourse with your parents, do you make it an invariable rule to yield your own preferences and opinions to theirs? Do you cheerfully conform to all their family regulations; confiding in their superior wisdom and experience, even when you fail to un derstand the reasons that actuate them? Are you careful to avoid whatever would give them pain? Do you take pleasure in anticipating their wishes, and, by the thousand ways which an affectionate child so well understands, continually strive to make them happy? To make your parents happy! Does not your very soul, my young friend, kindle at the thought? I will not ask if you love your parents. I know you do, and that you feel at this moment there is nothing you would not do to render their future years prosperous and happy beyond all the past. The joy which lights up their features is readily caught and reflected by your own. When you return from school, from the pleasant visit, or delightful walk, to whom do you seek, before all others, to communicate your happiness, that they may share it with you? And, oh! with what saddened feelings do you sometimes witness the shade of anxiety or sorrow gather over their brow, and think that you would give the world, if you might, to know and remove the cause! Affection is skilful in making such discoveries. The face we are used to gaze upon in love, be it that of a parent, a brother, or sister, If any of my young read or whatever friend, is easily read by us. ers have not learned thus to study a father's or a mother's countenance, it is because they have not yet loved them as they might and ought. It is not a skill belonging to age, but to affection. Many of you, I know, perhaps the most of you, possess it. But while you thus sincerely desire to see your parents happy, have you sufficiently reflected how much it is in your power to render them so? If you have heretofore thought less of this subject than its importance demands; if you have been less desirous of contributing to the happiness of your father and mother than to secure your own; I would most earnestly request you now to ponder seriously the past and present, and see if there may not be some room for improvement. It is possible some of my young readers may have thought so little about it, that it has never occurred to them, there is any thing in particular for them to do to make their parents happy. It may be presumed, that the larger part of the faults of the young results more from inadvertence than from any deliberate intention to do wrong; hence, there is every reason to hope, that an ingenuous young person, who is accustomed to reflect upon his conduct, and has been taught to feel in some degree his moral responsibilities, when convinced of his faults, will at least desire to reform. And I have no doubt that many such who may read this, will not only detect and regret delinquencies in their past conduct, but will sincerely resolve to attempt an improvement. Do not suppose, however, my young friends, that it is the more glaring defects of character only, or chiefly, against which I am anxious you should be on your guard. If you should, the principal design of this article will be defeated. If your faults have been only those of omission, if you have but neglected to do what you might have done to lessen a mother's cares, or increase a father's comfort, even then you have cause enough for repentance and reformation. But it is not my purpose to employ the language of accusation or reproof; for it is not in the grave character of a teacher, you will recollect, that I have come before you, but as a sister; an elder sister, indeed, but one who can enter into your feelings, and understand your difficulties, and sympathize in whatever affects you as children of kind parents, and in the relation you sustain toward brothers and sisters. My simple object is to awaken remembrance, and help you to furnish an answer to a question, which I doubt not many of you have already felt desirous to have answered, namely, 'In what way can I increase the happiness of my parents?' This question supposes that you not only wish to see your parents happier than they now are, but that you are willing to do something for their sake. Instead of answering the inquiry by a set of abstract rules, which you might think difficult to remember, and more difficult to apply, I will try to give you a very simple illustration of what I mean by doing something to make your parents happy. And perhaps your own observation, and the experience of some of you, I hope, may furnish similar illustrations. 'Mother,' said Julia, as she returned from school, 'Sarah Jones is going to have a little party this afternoon, and has invited me to go home with her. She has called for me, and I told her I should like very much to go if you were willing. But, dear mother, you look sick. Is there any thing I can do for you?' 'Yes, my dear,' replied her mother, 'your little brother has been quite troublesome to-day, and I have been obliged to hold him in my arms ever since you went to school; and my head is aching very |