Earlier text: MEETINGS AT PETERBORO, N. HDrouth in Parts of Europe.
A DROUTH unparalleled since 1798 was, at our latest advice by steamer, prevailing in England, Scotland, and Ireland, and of a character so general and severe as to cause very gloomy apprehensions. In parts of France, Spain, and Germany, the want of sufficient rain is complained of, but it had not reached the proportions of a serious drought. The want of rain is attributed to the prevalence of polar, rather than of equatorial influences, by which the atmosphere of a rainless region has been distributed over England for a period of unusual duration. Whatever may be the cause, its effects on production, and the wants which may be supplied by food from more fortunate regions, will no doubt be carefully considered. The wheat harvest of England is being gathered in better order, so it is stated, than usual; but there is a great falling off in the crop of oats, barley, and hay, and, what is more important, the root crop, except what was planted early, and the pastures are nearly dried up. Its first effects upon our market were shown in the considerable demand a few weeks since for cheese and butter, and in the advance in the price of Indian corn. The supposed extensive crop of wheat harvested and being harvested in England has prevented any rise there in the price of wheat; but wheat came very slowly upon their local markets, and it will doubtless be found that the grain is very much shrunk. Our wheat is obtained by the English at all seasons, for the purpose of being mixed with theirs, as by the union better bread is the result; but whatever may be the extent of their crop of wheat, an unusual amount will be required to supply the loss of other crops. The quantity of land depastured in a country so diversified with hill and dale as England, is greater than the quantity under plow, and when the pasturage fails, whatever crop may be in excess of the usual production is called upon to supply this want, and that, also, of the crops which suffer from the same cause. “Nationally, in the longest sense,” says the Economist, in a late number, “nothing, it is said, matters but the wheat crop, and though the saying is exaggerated, the essence is true: Give us cheap bread for man, and the price of food for other animals matters but very little.” To this it may be safely answered, that when the other harvests all fail, cheap bread is an impossibility. A drought is one of the most serious calamities that can be visited upon a people; and although only about three-tenths of the English population are agriculturists, and the full amount of food produced there falls far short of the total consumed, yet it will be found that the effects of the drought—the English not being accustomed to it—are not accurately understood by those who urge that it may be compensated for in an unusual wheat crop. Strabo remarks of the climate of England, “that the sun generally shines only for a few hours, and that in the morning and evening it is hid in clouds or fogs.” The freshness and peculiar luster which vegetation almost universally exhibits, except in winter, are due not so much to heavy as to drizzling rains, and to frequent dews and fogs; but this season the English can boast of the brightness of an Italian sky. As the matter possesses unusual interest, we select some statements from our English files to show the duration and extent of this visitation. WALES.—“The farmers in the Welsh valleys are suffering severely, there being nothing for cattle to eat. The grass is literally burned up, and on being felt by the hand, crumbles into dust just like dried herbs. To make matters worse, there is no dew, the land being as dry at early morn as at noonday. The farmers on the hill-sides are still worse off, as water has to be carted up for all purposes, the springs and small mountain streams being completely dried up. The farmers are driving the cattle on to the mountains, which are usually more moist.” THE MOORS.—“On one moor it is said more than half of the young birds are gone for want of water, none surviving but those hatched near springs or burns. You may travel for miles on the high ground and not see a single grouse. In my opinion there will not be more than twenty brace killed by one gun this season. Crops of all kinds are gone here. I do not know what is to be done for want of fodder.” At the trial of the Leicester agricultural show, on the 13th of July, of steam and other plows, it is observed, “The leading feature of the day has been the immense number of broken shares, resulting of course from the baked state of the ground. Passing from one field to another, the visitor has come upon numberless heaps of disabled iron-work, and it has not been difficult to discover the history of their grief.” “Many wheat fields in this district (Newcastle) are now literally swarming with insects, much resembling the common flea in both color and size, which have located themselves in close proximity to the grain. Several large fields in the vicinity of Walker present a very remarkable appearance from this cause, the mass of insects imparting a dark tint to the summit of every stem, and the damage caused by their troublesome presence is likely to inflict heavy loss upon the farmers. It is one of the most destructive species of the Aphis.” “The harvesting time on this farm (the Prince Consort’s model farm at Frogmore) this year is considered to be six weeks earlier than the average of seasons.” Wheat heavy and in fine condition, beans and oats cut, and above the average. The London Express of the 6th says: “The long-continued drought is becoming a matter of serious import to the country. The traveler by railway, through any part of England, reads the same story in county after county. Fields which should be green and fresh have an arid and rusty look, as if their vegetation were artificial, and had grown shabby. The soil is hard and droughty, and the hedges are bald and brown, while the grass of parks and pleasure grounds is burned down as completely as if it had been singed. London is suffering too. Our sewers and drains are abnormally offensive, and our streets have, over and above the general closeness and stuffiness of July, a fusion of foul flavors. The taints and odors are spreading from the courts and alleys over our handsomest and most spacious thoroughfares, and are intensifying and thickening in their native homes as well. Night after night does the sky give promises which the morning breaks. The sparse driblets of the last week have done little more than sharpen our sense of the evil. When will the rain come? is still on our lips.” The Daily News of the 7th says: “The want of rain is beginning to be seriously spoken of in Ireland. In consequence of the continued drought, the hay harvest is extremely light (though of the best quality), and the supply of milk and butter is necessarily curtailed, owing to the distress which cattle endure from want of sufficient moisture.” The Freeman’s Journal says: “Since the summer of 1798, such a season has not been known. We have had no winter, and March was only equalled in its genial character by April and May, in which we had nearly all sunshine and no showers.” The Mark Lane Express of the 12th inst. collects together reports from all parts of England, which confirm what we have thus presented. We give some specimens of these reports: FROM LINCOLNSHIRE.—“Intense heat continues. In many cases it is damaging the wheat, and as for barley, it is now past recovery, and is dying prematurely, to become, without doubt, bad in quality and in quantity. Pastures can never recover under any circumstances, so that fat meat, after a few weeks, must be scarce and dear, and the chance of a turnip crop is hopeless.” WARWICKSHIRE.—“The root crops in this district are generally very poor, and in not a few instances have been given up as entirely lost.” SUFFOLK.—“The drought continues, parching up every thing green, and rendering the country most dreary.” From the east coast of Scotland.—“We are still without rain so much needed by spring corn and root crops.” A correspondent of the Gardener’s Chronicle, in England, writes that he was then at an elevation which commanded a view of the country for thirty miles in extent, and that the hedges and trees which send their roots deep into the earth were alone green, and that the pastures were universally suffering. “The popular delusion,” he adds, “that grass is green, will soon be among the forgotten fallacies of the past.” The Manchester Guardian, of the 13th ult., says: “Rain has fallen on only three out of the last 104 days in the Manchester water-shed, and the fall on those occasions was so small that it was entirely absorbed in the ground, and the reservoirs received none.” Advice by telegraph shows that the drought was broken about the 24th of July. The fact that the existence of a drought “in the interior provinces of the north of Spain,” and in parts of Germany and France is also spoken of, shows its extension upon the Continent, but in a much less severe form than that prevailing in Great Britain and Ireland. In England the price of meat had fallen, because both cattle and sheep had been slaughtered in excess of what was usual, owing to the scarcity of hay, oats, and pasturage; but wheat has fallen but little, as the crop had reached the market much earlier than usual, although not in large quantities. The question whence the supply will be obtained to make up this unfortunate deficiency is one of great interest. The crop of wheat in California will amount this year to seventeen millions of bushels, such is the estimate; and as freights are low at San Francisco for outward-cargoes, competition from that quarter may be expected. In many parts of Europe the crop of grain promises to be full, and in the United States, a wheat harvest unprecedented in quantity is now being gathered. The law of distribution, by which the deficiency in one country is supplied from the excess in others, will soon be in full operation to the advantage of the United States as one of the countries upon which the favors of Providence, in respect to what is gathered and what is promised, have been bountifully bestowed.—Harper. The following brief but comprehensive synopsis of the doings of the Fortieth Congress, which has just closed its sessions, will be of interest to all our readers, especially to such as have not been able to devote much attention to national matters as they have been passing. We copy from the Methodist. The Fortieth National Congress closed its second regular session last Monday, July 27th. A brief synopsis126 of the work performed by this Congress, principally in its efforts to reconstruct the civil governments of the Southern States, will present an encouraging view of the progress made in the last two years. The first regular session, which closed March 30th, 1867, was characterized chiefly by the passage of the Military and Sherman bill, forming the late rebel States into military districts, and consigning them to the care of district commanders until such time as each State should, by a vote of all loyal male citizens, without distinction of color, adopt a constitution in conformity with the laws of Congress. It was enacted that such constitution should be adopted by an affirmative vote of two-thirds of the registered voters of each State. This became a law by being passed over the President's veto, March 2d, 1867. On March 18th, a bill supplemental to this was passed, providing that the aggregate vote upon the question of calling conventions, and the adoption of the new constitutions, must, in each State, be equal to one-half of the registered voters, and that a majority of those voters should decide these questions. Early in the year 1867 the Tenure of Office bill was passed. This bill provided that the President should make no removal of any officer previously appointed by him, and approved by the Senate. As at first passed by the Senate, Cabinet officers were excluded, but afterward they were included in the bill. This was passed over the President's veto, March 2d. It seemed when Congress adjourned, March 30th, that its work was well guarded; but June 12th, Attorney-General Stanberry delivered an opinion that the Southern Military bill conferred no jurisdiction upon military commanders except in case of riot or violence, and the President issued a circular order to district commanders to regulate their action by this opinion, and to interfere in no respect with the civil governments of the Southern States. The order of President Johnson necessitated a special session of Congress, which met July 3d, 1867, and adjourned on the 19th. On the first day of the extra session, various bills, explaining, amplifying, and modifying the previous bill, were offered in both Houses. From these the Conference Committee prepared, and, on July 13th, reported, a bill declaring the authority of Congress to be paramount over the whole subject of reconstruction in the late rebel States, and also the authority of the commanders to be supreme in their districts in civil as well as in military affairs, subject only to the control of the commander-in-chief. This Supplemental bill was passed by both Houses, and on July 19th was again passed over the President's veto, after which Congress adjourned. On November 21st, 1867, the second session was begun. During the vacation, General Sheridan, commanding in Louisiana and Texas, had been removed, and General Grant had been appointed Secretary of War ad interim in place of Secretary Stanton, removed by Presidential order. On November 25th, resolutions favoring and opposing the impeachment of President Johnson for high crimes and misdemeanors, were reported to the House by the Committee on Impeachment, and were made the order of the day for December 4th. The President's message was received December 3d, and evinced such a spirit of hostility to the measures and plans of Congress as called forth strong manifestations of disapproval in both Houses; but the impeachment project was, after a spirited debate, voted down December 8th, by a vote of 108 to 57. In January of this year, Congress repealed the tax on cotton grown between April 1868 and April 1869, and removed the duty on imported cotton. The Senate, January 13th, declared Secretary Stanton to be still Secretary of War. Another Supplemental Reconstruction bill was passed January 21st, enlarging the powers of military commanders, and still more strongly guarding against interference by the President. On February 7th, a bill amending the Tenure of Office law passed the Senate, and subsequently the House. It requires all the special acts of departments to be sent to the Senate for confirmation. On February 26th, an amendatory reconstruction act was passed, allowing a majority of votes cast to decide all elections in the Southern States. February 21st, the removal of Secretary Stanton by the President, was made known to the House, when it was resolved at once to present articles of impeachment against the President. The trial—the first of its kind in our national history—is fresh in the minds of all. On May 16th, a vote was taken on the eleventh article, and on the 26th, on the second and third articles—the vote on each resulting 35 to 19, being one vote short of a two-thirds majority. Recently, new articles of impeachment have been submitted to the House and referred to a Committee. Arkansas, North and South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Florida, and Louisiana, have been restored to membership in the sisterhood of States, and, within their bounds, military law has given place to civil rule. Congress has decided that the fourteenth amendment to the Constitution has been adopted, having received ratification by twenty-nine of the thirty-seven States. A bill, continuing the Freedmen's Bureau until July 16th, 1869, has been passed. In addition to these, a bill for funding the national debt; a national currency act; a bill reducing the tax on whisky from $2 to fifty cents, and providing for its better collection; a bill providing for the better protection of American citizens abroad; the confirmation of the treaty with Russia, by which we acquire possession of Alaska, and the ratification of a treaty with China through the Burlingame mission, are among the leading acts of the Fortieth Congress. A Case of Abduction.
By H. Mattison
I HAVE been surprised that the case of abduction recently brought before the courts of New York, has awakened so little interest on the part of the Protestant pastors and churches. Even the religious press seems either to have overlooked it, or to have regarded it as a matter of but little consequence. Some, even, who were furnished with an early and authentic account of the whole procedure, have not so much as alluded to the matter in any form! All this is, to me, unaccountable. If a member of one of our churches can be kidnapped by Roman Catholics, and locked up for months, and when her whereabouts is ascertained, and an effort is made to release her, no word of sympathy is uttered, or notice taken of it by the Protestant press, where are we to look for sympathy or aid? But my object in this communication is not so much to complain of the indifference of others as to furnish to the readers of The Methodist a synopsis of the principal facts in the case. About the middle of January last, a young girl living in a Methodist family in Newark, N. J., went to the Franklin-street M. E. church, Rev. James Rogers, pastor, and was awakened and happily converted to Christ. Her own story is that, being burdened with a sense of guilt as an awakened sinner, and while at the altar praying to the Virgin Mary without finding relief, something seemed to whisper to her, “Why not pray to Jesus Christ? Mary is away up in Heaven, and, maybe, she does not hear you. And if she does, maybe she cannot relieve you. Jesus is everywhere—why not pray to him?” And she did pray to him, and thus obtained a sweet relief from her burden, and a precious assurance that he had heard her prayer, and forgiven all her sins. She then went to the South Market-street church, which was nearer to where she lived, told her experience, and united with the church on probation. She was then in her fifteenth year, a bright and active girl, and of more than ordinary personal attractions. Her mother died some years since, and neither her father nor step-mother can read or write. But, at the time of her conversion, poor Mary Ann, a young woman, raised in this country, and, with nothing to indicate her Irish descent, was trying to learn to read in the family where she was serving. Soon after her conversion, “Father Doane,” a young Catholic priest, tried to get her away from the place where she was serving, on a writ of habeas corpus, but his Catholic judge being out of town, he failed to obtain it. It is in evidence that she is a modest, industrious, and excellent girl, who has earned her own support since she was nine years of age; that she was living with Mrs. Fitzgerald (mother of Rev. Mr. Fitzgerald, of the Newark Conference,) at the time of her abduction; that she was decoyed away by representations—first, that a cousin was dead, who is still living, and then that a child, which she dearly loved, was very sick. Thus induced to go to the house where it was, she was met by Father Doane, who, finding her unwilling to renounce her Protestant faith and experience, advised her father to keep her secure till they could send her to a nunnery in New York. Doane himself was compelled to testify that he so advised, and, in an article which he published, and was reluctantly compelled to father under oath, he declares that all this was done on account of her religious belief. She was accordingly locked up in a house in Newark, and kept in close confinement till she could be taken to a nunnery. To get her from Newark to the nunnery, they persuaded her to “go and see the place,” under the solemn promise that if she did not wish to enter the “institution” after she had seen it, she might come home with them. But once there, they turned the key upon her, and she has seen the verdure of the opening spring only through the iron gratings of this New York bastile for the last three months. Having thus suddenly disappeared from Mr. Fitzgerald’s, where she was earning eight dollars per month, and was highly esteemed, and her trunk and clothing being left there, it was reported first that she was in Jersey City, and then that she was in Brooklyn. At another time her step-mother told Mr. Fitzgerald that she was at home. But all this time she was confined in the “House of the Good Shepherd” (?) with abandoned Catholic women, washing and ironing, and living upon mush and molasses, as she testified before the judge. Learning something of these facts, the Preacher’s Meeting of Newark appointed a committee to sue out a writ, and bring her before a judge in New York, where the nunnery is located. This was done by her pastor, Rev. J. S. Gilbert, and the “Lady Superior” was required to produce Mary Ann before his honor, Judge Ingraham, of the Supreme Court, to show why she should be thus imprisoned against her will. After a few witnesses had been examined, Doane’s counsel moved a dismissal of the case, on the ground that she was a minor, and her father had a right to place her where he pleased. The judge told him that it was in evidence that she was a pure-minded young girl of sixteen, and that the “House of the Good Shepherd” was filled with abandoned women, among whom she is obliged to labor and sleep; that no father had a right to place his child amid such corrupting associations; that Mary Ann was taken there and kept there against her will, and unless these facts could be lighted up in some way, she would not be remanded back into such a prison. This served greatly to disconcert Doane and his lawyer. At the outset of the matter the sole excuse for her abduction and confinement was, that “her faith was being tampered with,” and it was feared that she might fall into evil habits—although she was living at the time with a most exemplary Christian family, and leading a regular and Christian life. But as soon as it was found that she could not be held upon the plea first set up, two men were found (both of whom were obliged to testify that they had each been in jail twice, though one was only eighteen years old), who were ready to swear that Miss Smith was a dissolute person in September previous to her being converted in January. At this time, however, she was a devout Catholic, and neither father nor priest took any notice of her alleged waywardness. But as soon as she professes conversion, and, as they do not deny, is leading a blameless life, save that she is a “heretic,” she is kidnapped and locked up in a convent. And to justify her confinement, and keep her there, priest and father and false witnesses unite to prove her a monster, and consign her reputation to infamy. And as showing the utter falsity of all that has been said of her bad character, and the need of putting her in a nunnery “for reformatory purposes,” her father has told her more than once since the trial began, that if she would “renounce her heresy” he would take her out of confinement. It is for her Protestantism, then, that she is placed behind iron bars, and not because she is, or ever has been, dissolute. Her father told me himself that he never supposed she was a bad girl. Her great and only crime is that, being of Catholic parentage, she has become a Protestant. For this she has been immured behind grated windows, and with abandoned women for the last three months, till brought before Judge Ingraham, on a writ of habeas corpus, on the fifteenth of last month. Messrs. Lord and Skidmore have had charge of the case on the part of the plaintiff; and, after having been adjourned from time to time, and shifted from one judge to another, the following decision was rendered by Judge Sutherland on July 10: “This is an embarrassing case, and not free from doubt; but, upon the whole, I think the writ must be dismissed, and the prisoner remanded to custody.” But the case is to be appealed, and will go before a full bench at Albany. Meanwhile this young Christian, who is as firm as a rock in her purpose never to renounce Christ, is confined in a Roman Catholic bastile, half-starved, and compelled to attend mass, while the reader enjoys his freedom. “Remember those that are in bonds as bound with them.” We have done with slavery and the kidnapping of negroes, and have now to deal with the aggressions of Romanism, and the kidnapping of young Protestant girls for nunneries. This case ought to arouse every Protestant in the land. The question to be decided is, whether, when-ever a Catholic who is under age becomes a Christian, he may be lawfully placed and kept in close confinement, at the instigation of a Romish priest. In Austria, papal as it has been, and is nominally still, every child of fourteen years of age can choose its own religious faith; but, if the decision of Judge Sutherland is to stand, then religious liberty in this country is confined to adults of eighteen or twenty-one years; and the Roman Catholics can lawfully seize and imprison all minors who depart from the papal faith. Before such a principle should be conceded, or such a precedent established by the Supreme Court, every Protestant pulpit and press in the land should utter its protest; and, if need be, thousands of dollars should be expended in procuring legal counsel to contest the matter to the utmost. It is a case that reaches far beyond Mary Ann Smith, and, if settled in the interest of Romanism, is the virtual establishment of the Inquisition upon American soil. Will Americans submit to have persons, young or old, kidnapped and imprisoned on account of their religion? That is the question now being settled in the Supreme Court of the State of New York.—H. Mattison, in Methodist, Aug. 1, 1868. I WAS very much impressed with the account of the little boy's being shot. What distress is brought upon the family by the foolish practice of boys' taking guns into the fields where they work. I have seen them do it. What for? To shoot the birds. But for what do the boys want to shoot the birds? They are pretty, and they are innocent. You say they eat our cherries. Well, the cherries were very wormy this season, and if the birds did not eat them, I fear we would soon have no cherries at all. They are your friends in this case. But some of them pick holes in our trees. Well, there are worms in the trees, and, if left alone, will kill the trees. You cannot find them—you could not hire a man to get them out; but the bird knows just where to find them. Who taught him to find the worms in the trees? God, who made them, gave them this knowledge, and for exercising this knowledge that God gave him, and for your benefit, too, you shoot the poor bird. In Testimony No. 15, page 49, are these words: “Those who profess to be fitting for translation should not become butchers.” Why not? “It has a tendency to lower, to debase the man, to make him more animal in his propensities.” If it is wrong for men who are looking for the Lord, to butcher—if it debases them to kill animals, though they may think it is of use to do so—is it not wrong for boys who keep the Sabbath to kill birds? Will it not harden their hearts, and make them base and low, and more animal in their propensities? I should feel very sorry, indeed, to have my boy shoot a bird. They may take all my cherries before I will kill them. Just think of a boy's shooting at a little bird so sweetly singing in the tree. What joy fills its little breast as it sings its Creator's praise. Now the gun is discharged, and away flies the bird. No; it cannot fly far. See how it flutters and falls in the bushes or high grass. The boy looks for it, but cannot find it. So there it must lay all day and all night, with a leg or a wing broken, suffering terribly, with no kind friend to bind up its wound, or bring it food. At last it dies from its wound, or of starvation. Oh, how sad! Do you not think the family that lost the little boy would have felt still worse if their dear “little Willie” had been shot in the breast by some bad man, or had a leg broken, and he left in the woods to suffer and die alone? But the bird may have young ones in its nest. Think how they cry for food, and for the dear, comforting shelter of the parent bird, all the long, dark, chilly night. At last they starve to death. Poor little things! Did any body see them or hear their cry? Yes; God saw and heard it all. The kind Saviour says, “Not one of them is forgotten before God.” May God forgive the cruelty of the boys who uselessly kill his little innocent creatures. J. H. W. To the Young.
By Joseph Clarke
MANY have desired that the Youth's Instructor be issued weekly. That being thought inconvenient, it is very wisely decided that a page of the REVIEW be set apart for the young. This is, we believe, the best way, and it is to be hoped that the children and youth will realize how much this adds to their privileges; and not only so, but that they will find much besides, in the REVIEW, to interest them. Very many interesting articles in the REVIEW are easily appreciated by the young; especially the reports of ministers and the excellent poetry. By reading these, your minds will enlarge, and you will soon understand more, until all will be as interesting to you as to older persons. I know of young people who delight in the REVIEW as much as their parents do, and this is very much. Dear children and youth, Do you love the present truth? I know that some of you love to think of the truths now proclaimed which show the Advent near at hand, and the necessity of keeping all the commandments. Let every one meditate upon these things. LITTLE Bessie had a present of a new book, and she eagerly opened it to look at the first picture. It was the picture of a boy sitting by the side of a stream, and throwing seeds into the water. “I wonder what this picture is about?” said she; “why does the boy throw seeds into the water?” “Oh, I know,” said her brother Edward, who had been looking at the book; “he is sowing the seeds of water-lilies.” “But how small the seeds look!” said Bessie. “It seems strange that such large plants should grow from such little things.” “You are just sowing such tiny seeds every day, Bessie, and they will come up large and strong plants after a while,” said her father, “Oh! no, father; I have not planted any seeds for a long while.” “I have seen my daughter sow a number of seeds to-day.” Bessie looked puzzled, and her father smiled and said, “Yes, I have watched you planting flowers, and seeds, and weeds, to-day.” “Now I know that you are joking, for I would not plant ugly weeds.” “I will tell you what I mean. When you laid aside that interesting book, and attended to what your mother wished you to do, you were sowing seeds of kindness and love. When you broke the dish that you knew your mother valued, and came instantly and told her, you were sowing seeds of truth. When you took the cup of cold water to the poor woman at the gate, you were sowing the seeds of mercy. These are all beautiful flowers, Bessie. But I hope my little girl has been planting the great tree of ‘love to God,’ and that she will tend and watch it, until its branches reach the skies and meet before his throne. A wise man once said, “Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.” But many people who are continually telling their children how to do right, but who do not thus themselves, appear to wonder why they do no better after all their good advice to them; but the truth is, those who would train up a child in the way he should go, must go that very way themselves. Aye, an ounce of example is worth whole tons of precept. I was forcibly reminded of this, while walking down street a few days ago, I observed six or eight little school-boys by the side of the road, and though the utmost good nature appeared to prevail among them, one of them was swearing, and not stopping to swear by rule either. Said I, Tut, tut, little boy, does your pa allow you to swear? “Oh no,” said he “pa swears when he gets angry, but he whips me when I do so, he whipped me this morning for it, and now I’m out of his sight I’ll pay him for whipping me, for doing just as he does.” People should learn to govern themselves, before they try to govern others. Be a living lesson in your own individuality, and there is but little fear but that those who look up to you will follow in your footsteps; but if you undertake to coerce children into the practice of virtues which with you are matters of theory only, the success of the experiment is doubtful, to say the least of it; for they are much more apt to act as you act, than to act as you say; and you will often find them to be like a mirror, in which your own faults are reflected, it may be even with exaggeration. Go, therefore, in the way in which you would train up a child.—Advocate and Guardian. A PERSON with not very ample means of support, had a large family; and being informed that a friend had drawn a prize in a lottery, he exclaimed, peevishly, “God sends meat to others—children to me.” It afterward occurred, that the Being at whose government he had so impiously murmured, sent him those riches which he had so eagerly and wickedly longed for. But as he sent him the wished-for wealth, he deprived him of the children he had complained of. He saw them, one by one, go to the grave before him; and in advanced life, and great affluence, when his last beloved daughter was taken from him, he painfully remembered his former rebellious murmurings against God. The benevolent Dr. Wilson once discovered a clergyman at Bath, who, he was informed, was sick, poor, and had a numerous family. In the evening he gave a friend fifty pounds, requesting him to deliver it in the most delicate manner, and as from an unknown person. The friend said, “I will wait upon him early in the morning.” “You will oblige me, sir, by calling directly. Think of what importance a good night’s rest may be to that poor man.” A little boy was one day sitting on the steps of a house. He had a broom in one hand, a large piece of bread and butter, which somebody had given him, in the other. While he was eating it and merrily humming a tune, he saw a poor little dog quietly sleeping not far from him. He called out to him, “Come here, poor fellow?” The dog, hearing himself kindly spoken to, got up, pricked up his ears, wagged his tail, and seeing the boy eating, came near him. The boy held out his piece of bread and butter; and as the dog stretched out his head to take it, the boy hastily drew back his hand, and hit him a hard rap on the nose. The poor dog ran away, yelling most dreadfully, while the cruel little boy sat laughing at the mischief he had done. A gentleman, who was looking from a window on the other side of the street, saw what the wicked boy had done, opening the street door, he called him to cross over, at the same time showing him a dime, which he held between his finger and thumb. “Would you like to have this?” asked the gentleman. “Yes, if you please, sir,” said the boy, smiling, and ran over to seize the prize. Just at the moment that he stretched out his hand he got so severe a rap on the knuckles from a cane, which the gentleman had behind him, that he screamed out like an Indian. “What did you do that for?” said the boy, making a long face and rubbing his hand. “I didn’t hurt you, nor ask you for the piece of money.” “What did you hurt that dog for, just now?” said the gentleman. “He didn’t hurt you, nor ask you for your bread and butter. As you served him I have served you. Now remember that dogs can feel as well as boys, and learn to behave kindly toward poor animals in future.” A little lamb, one afternoon,
Had from the fold departed;
The tender shepherd missed it soon,
And sought it, broken-hearted. Not all the flock that shared his love,
Could from the search delay him;
Nor clouds of midnight darkness move,
Nor fear of suffering stay him. But night and day he went his way,
In sorrow till he found it;
And when he saw it fainting lay,
He clasped his arms around it. And, closely sheltered in his breast,
From every ill to save it,
He took it to his home of rest,
And pitied and forgave it. And thus the Father will receive
The little ones who fear him;
Their pains remove, their sins forgive,
And draw them gently near him. Commendable Example of Honoring Parents.
When John Tillotson was Dean of Canterbury, a remarkable scene took place in the hall of that worthy man's residence. From some cause or other, the dean's father had not risen out of his country obscurity by his son's elevation; so, visiting the dean in London, he presented himself in his usual dress of a simple countryman. “Is John Tillotson at home?” he asked, on the door's being opened, after a single knock, by one of the dean's servants. “John Tillotson!” growled out the servant; “and don't you know better manners? The dean is at home, but not to see the like of you. So you had better be off.” “But he'll soon see me,” replied the father, coolly, “for all you can say.” And Mr. Tillottson was right; for after the servant had dealt out a good deal of insult, which he thought very appropriate to a man shabbily dressed, another servant went in to the dean and told him what was taking place at the hall-door. “It is my worthy father,” exclaimed the dean, after hearing the description of the strange visitor. And then, instead of being ashamed to acknowledge his relation to one so meanly clad, he ran out to the door, and fell down on his knees, in the presence of his servants, to ask his father's blessing. LEARN to control your temper now, children, or by-and-by it will control you.