heard the harsh and angry word from lips upon which the Saviour's name had just lingered. He had felt the unjust, quick, passionate blow from the hand which, a moment before, had been raised in supplication to heaven. He had seen the purse-strings relax at the bidding of worldliness, and tighten at the call of charity. He had seen principle sacrificed to policy, and duty to interest. He had himself been misappreciated. The shrinking sensitiveness which drew a veil over his most sacred feelings had been harshly construed into hardheartedness and indifference. Every duty to which his attention was called was prefaced with the supposition that he was averse to its performance. He was cut off from the gay pleasures which buoyant spirits and fresh young life so eloquently plead for; and in their stead no innocent enjoyment was substituted. He saw heaven's gate shut most unceremoniously upon all who did not subscribe to the parental creed, outraging both his own good sense and the teachings of the Bible; and so religion, which should have been rendered so lovely, put on to him an ascetic form. Oh, what marvel that the flowers in the broad road were so passing fair to see? that the forbidden fruit of the "tree of knowledge" was so tempting to the youthful touch? "Oh! Christian parent, be consistent, be judicious, be cheerful. If, as historians inform us, "no smile ever played" on the lips of Jesus of Nazareth, surely no frown marred the beauty of that holy brow. "Her Dear reader, true religion is not gloomy. ways are ways of pleasantness, her paths are peace." No man, no woman, has chart or compass, or guiding star, without it. Religion is not a fable. Else why, when our household gods are shivered, do our tearful eyes seek only heaven? Why, when disease lays its iron grasp on bounding life, does the startled soul so earnestly, so tearfully, so imploringly, call on its forgotten Saviour? Ah! the house "built upon the sand may do for sunny weather; but when the billows roll, and tempests blow, and lightnings flash, and thunders roar, we need the "Rock of Ages." OUR SON JO. REV. GEORGE ASPINALL, D.D. WE'RE old and poor, my Jane and I, Had both been cast, but one came nigh He works at yonder smithy where He gives us bit, he gives us sup, In summer, as we crutch about, And watch them in the meadows mow, As of the boy he was we think In winter, when the ground is white, Well, well! a brief space more and we (Copyright-contributed.) THE LABOURER. WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER. STAND up-erect! Thou hast the form, And likeness of thy God!—who more? A soul as dauntless mid the storm Of daily life, a heart as warm And pure, as breast e'er wore. What then?Thou art as true a man As moves the human mass among; As much a part of the great plan Who is thine enemy? the high In station, or in wealth the chief? The great, who coldly pass thee by, With proud step and averted eye: Nay! nurse not such belief. If true unto thyself thou wast, What were the proud one's scorn to thee? A feather, which thou mightest cast Aside, as idly as the blast The light leaf from the tree. No:-uncurb'd passions, low desires, These are thine enemies-thy worst; Thy labour and thy life accursed. Thou art thyself thine enemy! The great!-what better they than thou? As theirs, is not thy will as free? Has God with equal favours thee Neglected to endow ? True, wealth thou hast not-'tis but dust! Of both- -a noble mind. With this, and passions under ban, True faith, and holy trust in God, Thou art the peer of any man. BE KIND TO THE AGED. ANONYMOUS. Be kind unto the agèd Their many years respect; As kindness you'd expect, A gentle word, a loving act, Be kind to grandpa,—there he sits Be kind to poor old granny there But granny's eyes are growing dim - O help her when she fain would try Be kind to father, mother too, As down the hill they go, They bravely toiled through life's rough path That you a man might grow. Repay them now with grateful acts And kind, and tender words; Pierce not their ever yearning hearts |