is nothing so ordinarily given to children in England, and nothing so destructive to them. They ought never to drink any strong liquor but when the doctor prescribes it, Be careful, therefore, to have your eyes upon servants and injudicious but well meaning friends, and restrain them with all the skill and industry you can, there being nothing that lays a surer foundation of mischief, both to body and mind, than children being used to strong drink."

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used; and a child, usually trained to patience, may be trusted to bear the evil well, if not misled by false promises and it is much kinder to him to let him rest on a quiet and steady tenderness, than to promise and offer him indulgences which will be longed for hereafter, but which wholly disappoint him now, and add another trial to the many which put his patience to the proof. -Miss Martineau,

MORAL TREATMENT OF
ILLNESS.

I THINK it a pity to lavish indulgence, privileges, upon a sick child, for two reasons: that such indulgenee is no real comfort or compensation to the suffering child, who is too ill to enjoy it; and that it is witnessed by others, and remembered by the patient himself when he has forgotten his pain, so as to cause sickness to be regarded as a state of privilege, a persuasion likely to lead to fancies about health, and an exaggeration of ailments. All possible tenderness, of course, there should be, and watchfulness, to amuse the mind into forgetfulness of the body; but the less fuss and unusual indulgence the better for the child's health of body and mind, and the purer the lesson of patience which he may bring out of his sickness. Illness is a great evil, little to be mitigated by any means of diversion that can be

AN UNGODLY HOME. IF there be a curse more bitter than any other to man, it is to be the offspring of an irregular home, of a home where the voice of praise and prayer ascend not to God, and where the ties of affection are not purified and elevated by the refined influence of religious feeling; of a home to which, if the cares or sorrows of life shall bring religion to the heart in after days, that heart cannot turn without bitterness of feeling, without anguish and vexation of spirit.

THE FAMILY CIRCLE.

THERE is nothing in the world which is so venerable as the character of parents; nothing so intimate and endearing as the relation of husband and wife; nothing so tender as that of children; nothing so lovely as those of brethren and sisters. The little circle is made one by a single interest, and by a singular union of affections. - Dr. Dwight.

ANN M'CONNELL was born in Sutherlandshire, in the north of Scotland, July 21, 1835; but at the time of her death resided in Elgin, whither her family had subsequently removed.

Perhaps there was nothing peculiarly striking in her sickness and death beyond what is found in many similar cases. Yet it is believed that there are few or no death-beds which are exactly alike, few biographies which have exactly the same thing to tell, and we invariably find in every death-bed some feature peculiar to itself, which may be, to those personally cognizant of the circumstances or the reader of the biography, for warning, for example, and encouragement.

The subject of this memoir, though naturally of a serious and thoughtful disposition, and while attaching a regard to religious matters, yet did not make it manifest that she felt herself a great sinner, and Jesus to be a great Saviour, till about the middle of the year 1854. According to her own account, the anxious solicitude of her parents about her spiritual welfare, and their earnest prayers on her behalf, together with the correspondence of a friend, and other salutary influences by which she was surrounded, were the means of her conversion. In January, 1855, she became a member of the Congregational church in the place.

About the end of 1855, consumption was found to have seated itself

in her system, and soon after she was entirely laid aside. Though naturally of a retiring and diffident disposition, and often disposed to doubt whether she really was in Christ or not, what surprised every one who came in contact with her at the time of her illness was the calm resignation with which she received the intelligence that in all probability her disease would be fatal. On her removal from the infirmary, of which she had been an inmate for several weeks, and after all hope of her recovery was gone, she said, "I am quite willing to die now, if it is the Lord's will, for I know his time is the best. I have no desire to form any further acquaintance with the world, for it might interfere with my resignation to his will." In a letter to a friend she said, in regard to her prospect of death, "Sometimes I place death before me in all its terrible forms. For a moment there seem to be dark clouds surrounding me, but which are quickly dispersed by the eye of faith beholding the Sun of Righteousness; and then, when I fancy I am on the other side Jordan, I can't express my feelings of joy. I can say :

'I leave the world without a tear,

Save for the friends I held so dear.' Yet," she said, "although these are only my feelings, I am steadfast on my Saviour's side."

The disease which was finally to cut her off kept her entirely confined for more than six months.

During that time, she was a "living epistle, known and read of all" those who had the pleasure of her company and conversation. It was not so much in what she gave expression to in words that impressed those who saw her, as the peaceful and happy expression she always had on her countenance, and her delight in the conversation and dedevotional exercises of Christian friends; and few who visited her came away without receiving good to their own souls. No visits were more welcomed by her than those of her Sabbath-school teacher, under whose instructions she had received much benefit. To the conversation and devotional exercises of this truly pious and devoted lady she always looked forward with great pleasure. She was a diligent student of the Word of God, and in her sickness drew largely from its treasures, especially dwelling and relying on the promises of God; John xiv. was especially a favourite. She also delighted much in repeating and hearing repeated many of the beautiful hymns which are contained in the Congregational Hymn Book and Wardlaw's and Wesley's Collections. Especially she delighted in those beginning, "Behold, a Stranger at the door;" "I'll praise my Maker with my breath; "While on the verge of life I stand;" "Ye fleeting charms of life, farewell;" and, "The hour of my departure's come."

To say that she had no doubts nor conflicts with Satan and her heart during her illness would be to misstate her case, and state a rare case in the experience of the

Christian. She had doubts, and struggles with sin, yet she was always enabled to come off victorious. These were comparatively few, although severe when they did come. There are few cases which occur in which there is to be found more implicit and unwavering confidence in the Saviour than was to be found in this young woman. Gradually, as her end drew near, she increased in communion with God and alienation from the world. When her mother would happen to be absent from her bedside, and her father enter the room, remarking, "And you are alone?" she would reply, "Yes; and not alone, for my Saviour is ever with me." "You will have enjoyment, then, even in your loneliest hours? "Yes," she would reply, "such enjoyment as the world cannot give."

Though surrounded by some of the strongest earthly ties, and having the prospect, if she lived, of spending a life of usefulness in the cause of her Saviour, yet she was perfectly resigned, and willing "to depart and be with Christ, which is far better." She manifested an anxious solicitude about the spiritual welfare of her relatives. Her earnest hope was that they should all, as a family, meet each other in glory, where there should be no more separation.

On the 23rd July, 1856, she entered into her rest, a few days after completing her twenty-first year; among her last words being, "I am safe with my Saviour."

Edinburgh, Dec., 1857.

J. R.

JOHN GONEE, one of our infantschool children at Burdwan (Hindostan) was removed from among us. He was the son of very pious parents, and during his illness he often asked his mother and grandmother to pray with him, and spoke in the most encouraging way to their hearts of heavenly things. I never attended a death-bed in a Hindoo cottage where the parents manifested such a sweet spirit of resignation to the will of Jesus.

or

The next morning I was summoned to the dying bed of another promising boy, called Peter Kartik. As I entered the cottage, the sun was rising in all his eastern brightness, and reflecting his image on a large sheet of water, on the borders of which the cottage stood. I rejoiced to think that this was no inappropriate emblem of Kartik. I had reason to believe that the image of Jesus, the Sun of Righteousness, was reflected in the dying boy, as that of the natural sun was in the lake before his dwelling. I kneeled in prayer beside him; and I believe it was a blessed hour, which his young companions, who were by, will not easily forget. Poor Kartik had been long ill, and, though tenderly nursed, his disease advanced; but during its progress it acted as the refiner's fire. A few days before his death he was uneasy about his sins, not feeling sure of their pardon; and I told him of the willingness of Christ to receive all who come to him by faith, even the weakest and most unworthy. He listened to me with intense interest, and repeated several passages of Scripture after me, showing by the expression of his countenance that they were as manna to his hungry soul. The day before he died he was peaceful and happy, and spoke with joy of going to heaven.

Two days after, another little member of our infant-school left us for a better home. He was very

THE INFIDEL AND THE CHRISTIAN CHILD. "UNCLE Bob" was a great scholar. He had taken degrees both of "physics" and of "divinity," and was a student of many books besides those handled in colleges. He could quote texts from the Scriptures, as well as from the infidel writers. I am sorry to say that he preferred reading the infidel. His little niece, Nettie, about twelve years of age, was a Christian, and she felt truly sorry for her uncle Bob, and for all the people who do not love God.

She said to him one day, "Uncle, why don't you love God?"

"I do love my god," said the infidel.

"Who is that, uncle ?"

"It is the beautiful-beautiful objects in nature and in art.”

"Do you mean the Falls of Niagara and the Crystal Palace?" Well-yes."

"Who made the Falls, uncle?" "I don't know, Nettie."

"If you could see the One that made the Falls, uncle, would you love him?"

"If that could be, I should adore him."

"I love him, uncle," said the little girl, "just as well as if I could see him, and I love all who love him. You must read about him in my new Bible, uncle."

"I know the Bible, Nettie. It is nothing but a piece of Jewish mythology. You might as well believe in any other mythological history."

"Are there any prophecies in other mythologies, uncle?" "Well-no.'

"All the world knows, uncle, that Bible prophecies have been fulfilled; and I should like to know if any kind of mythology has ever been spread all over the world, and created love, and peace, and joy in people's hearts, like the history of our Saviour."

Uncle Bob made no reply.

ALLIGATORS' NESTS. THESE nests resemble haycocks. They are four feet high, and five in diameter at their basis, being constructed with grass and herbage. First, they deposit their eggs on a floor of mortar, and having covered this with a stratum of mud and herbage, eight inches thick, lay another sort of eggs upon that, and so on to the top, there being commonly from one to two hundred eggs in a nest. With their tails they then beat down round the nest the dense grass and reeds five feet high, to prevent the approach of unseen enemies. The female watches her eggs until they are hatched by the heat of the sun, and then takes her brood under her own care, defending them and providing for their subsistence. Dr. Lutzemberg, of New Orleans, once packed up one of those nests with the eggs in a box for the Museum of St. Petersburg, but was recommended before he closed it to see that there was no danger of the eggs being hatched on the voyage. On opening one, a young alligator walked out, and was soon followed by the rest, about a hundred, which he fed in his house, where they went up and down stairs whining and barking like young puppies.

"GOOD TO MAKE MEN OF." A GENTLEMAN once asked a company of little boys what they were

good for? One little fellow promptly answered, "We are good to make men of."

Think of that, young friends; you are all good to make men and women of. We do not mean-nor did that little boy-that you are merely good to grow up to the size of men and women. No, we mean a good deal more than this. You are good to make persons that will be respected and useful-that will help to do good in the world. No one who is not useful, and who does not seek to make the world better, deserves the name of man or woman.

You should not forget that, if there are to be any men and women -any that deserve such a nametwenty or thirty years hence, they are to be made of you who are now children. What a world this will be, when you grow up, if all of you only make men and women! Will you not ponder this subject, and show yourselves men?

WHO TAUGHT THEM?

WHO taught the bird to build her nest
Of softest wool, and hay, and moss?
Who taught her how to weave it best,
And lay the tiny twigs across?
Who taught the busy bee to fly
Amongst the sweetest herbs and
flowers,

And lay her store of honey by,
Providing food for winter hours?
Who taught the little ant the way

Her narrow cell so well to bore,
And through the pleasant summer day
To gather up her winter store?
"Twas God who taught them all the way,
And gave these little creatures skill;
And teaches children, when they pray,
To know and do his heavenly will.

TO LITTLE MARY. LISTEN, Mary, papa's coming, Gladly we his footsteps hear; Little feet will haste to meet him, When we know that he is near. Mary loves her papa dearly;

Papa loves his daughter too: When he says, "God loves her better," She can scarce believe it true. "May she love her heavenly Father, Praise and thank him for his care, Be his little child for ever,"This is papa's constant prayer.