A WORD ON CRUELTY. BY OLD ALAN GRAY. Of all the evil propensities that disfigure the character of young people, hardly is there one more unlovely, more forbidding, or more hateful, than that of cruelty. Adorn a young person with a hundred good qualities of the head and the heart, make him as much like an angel as you can, and then give him the vice of cruelty, and you put a blot on his forehead, a black, Cain-like mark upon his brow, that degrades him in the opinion of every generous mind. Keep, my young friends, on the watch against this vice. Your heavenly Father has been very kind to you; why, then, should you be cruel to his creatures? Never inflict an unnecessary pang upon the meanest thing that God has made. He that will spin a cockchafer when a boy is in a fair way of becoming a cruel and a brutal man. Some time ago, when on board a steam-packet, I was much annoyed by one of my fellow-passengers, who, throughout the whole of the voyage, amused himself in shooting sea-gulls. To ruffle the plumage of these ocean wanderers, and to see them fall wounded, and sink beneath the surface of the heaving billows, was his delight. Every shot he fired sank him as low in my estimation as it raised him in his own. If God, in his goodness, has given us the lower creatures for our use, he has not given them for our abuse; and it is a sad abuse of our power, whenever we wantonly and needlessly take away life. If I thought that any argument of mine would set this subject in a strong light, willingly would I do my best with my pen; but believing as I do that nothing which I could say would be half so likely to impress the minds of my young readers with the cruelty of needless destruction as the following affecting story, told by one well worthy of credit, I shall relate it at once, without one word of comment on my part. "A relation of mine," says the teller of the story, "always better satisfied at succeeding in his aim than in the result of his shot, brought down a monkey from a high tree. The poor creature, mortally wounded, was able to catch at the branches as it fell, and having so reached the ground, my relation was shocked to see it as large as a child of three years. He put away his gun, and hastened to it. The monkey, placing its hand on the wound, looked up into his face with an expression that seemed to imply, 'What have I ever done to you, that you should kill me?' He took it in his arms, and tried to stop the bleeding; while the creature, growing weaker, yielded itself to the comfort that he gave. 'And the big round tears Chased one another down his innocent nose, In piteous courses.' "Still there was the expression of reproach, heightened by the misery of my poor relative, who at that moment would have given much for the recovery of his victim. He then took it gently to a pool, to put a period to the protracted sufferings of nearly an hour, and exerted his resolution by immersing it in the water. Holding it during the brief struggle, he turned from the sight; but when all was still, and he ventured to look, there were the monkey's eyes wide open under the water, with the same sad, reproachful expression, and fixed upon his. From that day he never used his gun, and that hour's experience embittered his life." HOMELY PAPERS. BY UNCLE HARRY. A VISIT TO C. THE SABBATH. school. And as we sat at table, and * * * ''Tis like a little heaven below.' But the time arrived for school; and my young friends, who, I am glad to say, were always in time, hastened to their classes. Before they left, SOME months ago, I paid a visit to some country friends. I arrived on the Saturday. The following morning was bright and cheerful; the little birds ushered it in with a lively chorus; "And every gentle sound which broke however, I promised to visit the school the hush Of morning's still serenity was sweet: The sky-lark overhead; the speckled thrush, Who now had taken, with delight, his seat Upon the slender larch the day to greet; The starling, chattering to her callow young; And that monotonous lay which seems to fleet Like echo through the air, the cuckoo's song, in the afternoon. The service of the house of God was delightful, and we felt, I trust, that it was "good to be there." My young friends, too, had paid much attention, and could tell much of what they had heard. This every child should do; and be anxious to be doers of the word, and not hearers only. The time hastened on, and Uncle Was heard at times far off, the leafy Harry might be seen on his way to wood among." It was the sabbath morn; God's holy day: and there was everything in the morning to cheer the heart and animate the soul in notes of lively gratitude to Him who appointed a day of rest for his people. We had an early breakfast; for some of the young folks were teachers, and some scholars, in the sabbath the sabbath school. As you were not there to hear the address, I will write it down for your benefit. "Dear young friends,-In nothing do I delight more, than to stand up amid a crowd of smiling faces and glowing hearts, to speak a few kind words to them, with a view to interest and instruct them. I imagine that some may be tempted to inquire, 'I The road that leads to hell.' wonder who he is?' I will satisfy Who hates the sinner's path, and fears your curiosity. A teacher in a Sunday school in London: when a little boy, I was a scholar. But let me inquire of you, my children, 6 "Who are you? We were all born,' you may say, 'in C-; our parents are of different trades; and we have been some years, or months, or weeks, in this sabbath school.' Very true: but, at "What are you? and where are Though humble your lot, With only a crust. "The Bible says we are all sinners, We "Where are you going? are all journeying either in the road to heaven or hell. Thousands of young people are walking in the broad road, because it is easier to human nature. How foolish! It is easy to run down hill; but would you not think him mad, who should run, with his fingers in his ears, heedlessly down a steep hill, at the bottom of which destruction awaited him, just because it was easiest, while his friends cried, Stop! stop! By running thus, he would attain such a speed, as not to be able to stop before he should fall into the pit at its base, unless rescued by some kind hand. This is the way many are acting; they put their fingers in their ears, and will not listen to the voice of friends, who warn them not to go in the way of transgressors, profane, and pleasuretakers, and sabbath-breakers." Such was my address, with the following close, which I address to you, and leave you to think how in a sinful world; but it says, 'Be-happy a sabbath I spent at C- "Where are you going, then, young friends? 'We hope to go to heaven, when we die,' some reply. But you must have a good hope. 'Heaven is a prepared place for a prepared people.' Seek Jesus Christ 'Happy the child whose youngest years Receives instruction well; - love him-obey him, and fear to offend him. Pray for pardon and peace through him; and so live and act, that people may see what a change has come over you. Always be afraid to sin; then shall we have a hope concerning you, that you are walking in the road which leadeth to life eternal-to heaven. | Saviour. Meekly, and without even And you will be able to say, "I am but a stranger here,-heaven is my home."" Who are you? A child of Adam, born in sin, Unless my heart be changed by grace, I ne'er can see the Saviour's face. What are you? An exile from my Father's home, 'Midst sin and misery I roam; a complaint, he suffered the scorn and malice of men. They buffeted him, spit upon him, smote him with a reed, bowed the knee in mockery, crowned him with thorns, and nailed him to the cursed tree. "He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is From this time forth, my prayer shall be, dumb, so he openeth not his mouth.” "Set me, a captive exile, free." Where are you? I wander in a desert drear, Oh may I reach the heavenly land, Where are you going? I journey in the narrow way, SUCH A SAVIOUR. So lovely. "Who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth." Of whom else can this be said? We find some persons who are very amiable. They are very cautious in conversation. They are especially careful to say nothing unjustly of others, and wish to avoid all appearance of deceit. They are open, frank, ingenuous, and we love them. But we cannot say of them that they have no sin, and never use guile. Such meekness. 66 Who, when he was reviled, reviled not again." Of how many can this be said? How natural is it for us, when unjust and evil things are said to us, to retort, or show resentment! So did not the Is there any parallel to this? Such patience and forbearance. "When he suffered, he threatened not." He might have threatened, and executed his threat, could it have been in his heart to do such things. He could have prayed to his Father, who would presently have given him "more than twelve legions of angels;" but he did not so pray. He suffered his enemies to do the worst that their evil hearts could devise, or wicked hands perpetrate, when a word of his power could have dispersed them all, or have laid them prostrate in death. And such patience he now exercises towards us. How often do we sin against him! In how many instances have we torn those wounds, and caused those sacred hands to bleed afresh! How multiplied and aggravated have been our sins against this almighty, and patient, and forbearing Saviour! Still he forbears, and we yet live. Such tenderness. "A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench." No, but he will nourish and strengthen the fragile and bruised reed, and he will cherish the expiring flame. Where he sees even the feeblest purpose of holy living, where he hears one sigh of godly sorrow for sin, sees the first tear of penitence, there his heart of tenderness yearns, and there he speaks peace, comfort, and hope. How many have found him "a refuge in distress, a very present help in trouble!" In the hour of despair he flew to their relief. So ready to forgive. If he were not, who of our race could be saved? How unlike men was he in this! It is hard for us to forgive those who slight, ridicule, or maltreat us. Our proud hearts seek opportunity to retaliate. It was not so with Jesus. Greater wrongs were never done than were done to him. Fouler indignities, or baser cruelties were never heaped on any, than those which were laid on him. But how did he receive them? He prayed for his murderers: "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." And he still forgives. The chief of sinners he forgives. Such love. Love to his enemies and persecutors. Love to the most unworthy creatures on earth. He came to seek and to save that which was lost. And that he might save such, his soul was made an offering for sin. He "bore our sins in his own body on the tree." "He was wounded for our transgressions, and he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed." 66 DANGER OF INDULGING A ALMIRA, bring down your muslin frock. The weather is getting warm, and it is time to have a thin dress fitted up for the season." "Fitted up, mother! You are not going to make me wear that old dress this summer, I hope. I thought I was to have a new frock, and a splendid one, too, like Ann Maria's." "I am more anxious that you should have a splendid mind than a splendid dress, my daughter. Let your outward adorning be neat and simple, and you have no farther occasion for any anxiety for it. A fondness for dress has to many been the cause of great temptation, and finally has resulted in the loss of character, of health, and life. I could mention many who have brought ruin upon themselves in this way. One, in particular, I now have in my mind. When quite young, like many other foolish girls, she was very fond of dress, and became acquainted with a wicked man, who flattered her, gave her a great deal of money, brought her into Boston, supported her very "Oh, for such love, let rocks and hills Their lasting silence break!" Sinner, can you resist such love? genteelly, gave her a carriage to ride |