kmmi a. 
iEW-1 
' 257 
TTf t\ / A. A V | t a ,4 v doubly explosive by association with Us kind. 
^ ji v ( t il V ill i iU V <> Do you attempt to control it by the strong hand 
of power ? Go and read your fate in the wars of 
Cromwell, the revolts of Hungary, and the 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. French Revolution. Does it attempt to govern 
DUCATION. THE BULWARK OF FREEDOM, itself blindly, ignorantly, and without knowledge 
of its wants and dignity? Behold the result 
If you will look down the checkered course of tnirrored in the melancholy tale of Greece, and 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
EDUCATION, the bulwark of freedom. 
human events, yon will see that every straggle, 
every revolution, and every mighty commotion 
of society, has furthered the cause of human 
progress. Howsoever blindly they may have 
been conducted,— howsoever ill-omened or dis¬ 
astrous they may have appeared at, the time,— 
each contest between light and darkness, truth 
and error, knowledge and ignorance, has bet¬ 
tered the condition of mankind. Slowly but 
surely have Christianity, education and liberty 
made their way up from the chains of tyrants 
and the iron heel of despotism. You can trace 
their course, small and undefined at, first, but , 
gradually increasing in brightness, till, in the 
nineteenth century, it presses forward with 
gigantic strides toward a point of perfection in 
the future. Human ingenuity, and the arts of 
fiends, have failed to crnsh them; they throve 
upon the tortures of the inquisition, and the 
blood of martyrs gave but new impetus to their 
growth. 
And where were these to be found in the 
greatest degree? In the American Republic,— | 
the prodigy of nations, and the wonder of the | 
world. With a history small in extent, but great 
in events,—with a commerce whose sails whit¬ 
ened every sea,— with its flag floating over an 
extent of territory almost as largo as Europe,— ( 
and with every element of prosperity and sue- £ 
cess, it was advancing with unparalleled rapid¬ 
ity, bidding fair to become the enduring home of 
freedom. There was but one blot upou its char¬ 
acter, and the times were propitious for its final 
extinction. But a change came over tills mighty 
country. The sounds of peaceful industry were 
drowned by the clamor of war. The energies of 
the whole people were diverted from their natu¬ 
ral channels, and the tide of emigration was 
turned from the Western prairies to the camps 
of hostile armies. Sectional jealousy gave way 
to open hostility, and brothers sought each 
others’ blood with mutual enmity. What was 
the cause of this civil strife which has broken so 
many heart strings, and made ao many hearth¬ 
stones desolate? The ignorance of the>Southern 
masses, it was planned by the South; and by 
the South hurried into existence with fearful ' 
precipitancy. We do not say that the Southern 
leaders went into this blindly, or unadvisedly; 
the experience of the past two years has bitterly 
demonstrated to the. contrary. But the want of 
education among the non-slaveholders,—the rank 
and file of Ihe rebel army; the back-bone ot the 
rebellion,—is all that keeps it in existence an 
hour. For what good can they possibly receive 
from it, whether successful or not, originated, as 
it was, to gratify motives of personal ambition, 
and perpetuate the institution of slavery? In 
the one they could have no posslblo interest, and 
the success of the other would work for them 
woe instead of weal. Did they desire to advance 
their own interests? Compare, for a moment, 
the condition of the poor, despised, down-trod¬ 
den, negroeless Southerner with that of the 
Northern mechanic, artisan, or laborer. On the 
one side yon see ignorance and dependence,— 
on the other, happiness, and a place in society. 
Did they seek for national greatness? Compare 
statistics of the two sections of the Union; and 
note the superior progress of the Northern Slates, 
in wealth, population and internal improvement 
And all this while they held the reins of govern¬ 
ment; and helped themselves to everything that 
could accelerate their growth and develop their 
resources. 
The history of the world in every age proves 
slavery to be a curse to a country, and especially 
to its non-slaveholding population. Then the 
Southern masses, in supporting this war, (and 
without their support, it would fall to the ground 
in a moment,) are fighting against their own 
interests. But ignorant of Northern laws, of 
Northern people, of the Constitution they so 
pretend to revere: duped by designing politi¬ 
cians, crammed with lies, and frightened by 
bugbears, they madly plunged into the vortex of 
rebellion. This is one result of ignorance; and 
what has been its cost, and it effects? Deserted 
villages, ruined fortunes, blasted prospects, or¬ 
phan's cries and widow's tears, give answer. 
Ask of those who fell on Shiloh’s bloody field, of 
Antietam'a dead, of the little mounds upon 
James river’s side. Set a price upon the lives of 
Lyons, Kkarnk v, Stephens. Mitchbl, Baker, 
Wixturop, and of thousands of others. 
A great calamity is upon the nation. We seek 
first to free ourselves of its baneful presence, 
then how we may avoid its repetition. There 
are those appointed to see to the first; and it is 
for the American people to effect the second by 
infusing throughout the land u high standard of 
education, and, consequently, a higher apprecia¬ 
tion of the value and beauties of a free govern-! 
ment. If ignorance has worked untold evil, and 
seriously threatened the life of the nation, edu¬ 
cation, its opposite, must effect a directly oppo¬ 
site result, now can you expect to retain the 
blessings of a government of equal rights, when 
a man who cannot read a line, and who must 
depend upon street talk, and hearsay, for his 
political belief, can balance the vote of a states¬ 
man. Should he then be deprived of his suf¬ 
frage? Perhaps not: but his children should, at 
least, be taught the principles of true govern¬ 
ment. — should be made enlightened citizens. 
And is education costly? It is often asserted, 
and without fear of dispute, that knowledge is 
power; but it is doubly certain that knowledge 
is wealth. True to whatever state of civilization 
we may arrive, ambitious knaves and discon- 
Rome, the German League, and in our own sad 
history. 
We arc living in the latest period of time and 
can profit by the past Patriots have died for 
freedom, wars have been fought, seas of blood 
have been shed, but no nation has ever yet been 
free, for no people have ever yet been highly, or, 
rather, generally enough educated to know its 
worth; America has more nearly approached it 
than any other country. The world is looking 
with the most intense interest upon the problem 
now being solved in this unhappy land. Millions 
of hearts are alternately elated and depressed by 
the. news of victory or defeat; and as many 
prayers are daily raised for the success of our 
cause and that of a suffering world. But though 
our flag shall yet wave over every Southern for¬ 
tress, and the authority of the government be 
undisputed, so long as the hallowed influence of 
education is not more generally felt, so long shall 
liberty sit insecurely upon our institutions. But 
when the American people shall have learned 
the worth of freedom, and its effects upon both 
the Individual and the State,—when they shall 
have acquired a just horror of war and all 
its attendant evils,—when they shall have been 
taught to look above more party ties to the prin¬ 
ciples of right and justice,—then, and then only, 
shall we have a nation that will be an honor to 
itself, to humanity, and to God. E. Taylor. 
Tocuraseli, Mich., 1803. 
TALKING AND WRITING, 
A man never knows what he has read until ho 
has either talked about it or written about it, 
Talking and writing are digestive processes which 
are absolutely essential to the mental constitution 
of the man who devours many books. But it is 
not every man that can talk. Talking implies, 
first of all, a readiness on the part of the speaker 
and next, a *ympathetic listener. 11 is, therefore, 
as a digestive process, the most difficult, if it is the 
most rapid in its operation. Writing is a different 
affair; a man may take his time to it, and not re¬ 
quire a reader; he can be his own rouder. Jt is 
easier, although more formal process of digestion 
than talking. It is in everybody’s power; and 
everybody who reads much makes more or less 
use ul it, because, as Bacon says, if ho does not 
write, then ho ought to have extraordinary facul¬ 
ties to compensate for such neglect. It is-in this 
view that we are to understand the complaint of 
a well-known author that ho was ignorant of a 
certain subject, and the moans by which ho was 
to dispel his ignorance—namely, by writing on it. 
It is in this view that the monitorial system of in¬ 
struction has ils great value—to the monitors it is 
the best sort of teaching. It Is from the same 
point of view that Sir William Hamilton used to 
lament the decay of toeehlng&B a part of the edu¬ 
cation of students at tl ■ universities. In the old¬ 
en time it was necessary to the obtaining of a 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
TOBACCO - REFORMS 
Discussion is well if conducted for worthy 
ends, aud iu a proper spirit. The remarks made 
on a former occasion under this head seem to 
have stirred up a hornet's nest, judging from the 
apologetic note of the Rural, and the tone of K. 
A. W. Nor is this surprising. There is nothing 
wo think more of than we do of our own works. 
We are ready to do a great deal of “ good,” are 
inclined to very “ active exertion In the cause of 
humanity," if we can thereby glorify ourselves. 
The so-called “ Reforms” are little gods of ours, 
their professed object being to benefit, our species, 
while their real object is to magnify ourselves by 
enabling us to say. Lo, see whatu’elmve done! 
It is needless to say that in the Divine economy 
the world is to be reformed only by means and 
doctrines that tend to human abasement rather 
than to creature exaltation; and, therefore, that 
the various schemes of human contrivance for 
stopping sin, aud makitig men better must miser¬ 
ably fail, because their success would but min¬ 
ister to and Inflame the natural pride of the 
human heart. The Almighty has empowered no 
man, or society of men, or women, to reform 
their fellows, or even themselves; and has not 
ordained that reformation is to come nf our own 
efforts, or of the contemplation of our own 
works, but of His. tt is because of this that we 
denounce the so-called “Reforms,” point to tho 
failure of such us have ripened, and predict with 
a faith immovable that all similar schemes will 
end equally disastrously. 
Your correspondent soberly asks, u can a man 
bo pure who indulges in the use of tobacco?” 
Wo answer, No. Neither can a man be pure 
who does not thus indulge. It wilt be- true of 
both that “ from the crown of the head to the sole 
of the foot there is no soundness.” How any one 
can imagiD© a great difference in the purity of 
tho two, when according to high authority there 
is no moral soundness in either, we do not under¬ 
stand. But if the writer means only that tobacco 
occasions physical impurity, we grant the point 
at once. But that objection applies with equal 
force to a groat many things arid employments. 
Look at, rhe mechanic as he emerges from his 
Bhop, at the farmer as he comes in from his field, 
swarthy, sweaty, the dust from without combin¬ 
ing with the perspiration tram within to “dis¬ 
color” him all over, and make him an object 
“disgusting to tho sight” of all such “reform” 
exquisites as think that physical cleanliness and 
moral purity are one and tb>) same. We do not 
understand that the soot the chimney in 
any measure blackens tbe character of the sweep, 
nor that discolored teeth, whether occasioned by 
tobacco or calomel, at all affect a man’s charac¬ 
ter in this life, or his hopes for the next. There¬ 
in we seem to differ from E. A. W. 
Let us not be understood as recommending the 
use of tobacco or ruin, —far from it. We believe 
the young man makes a mistake who falls into a 
habit of indulging In either; and the man who 
reaches the down-hill of lifo with his taste not 
degree that the graduate should give evidence of vitiated has reason to congratulate himself 
not bear. Not only must the plow let in the air 
from above, but a porous subsoil or frequent 
drains must, give it an exit from beneath, or you 
win only grudging gifts from the smothered soil. 
Choose a flower-vase of wedgewood ware and 
without an opening at the bottom, and the rose 
folds its green calyx in despair about its stifled 
buds. Nay, let the pores in the stems aud loaves 
become choked with dust, and the plant dwin¬ 
dles and dies of voiceless vegetable catarrh. The 
ocean breathes in the trade-winds aud laughs in 
the shout of the tempest. Its slow beating pulses 
are in the tides; mountain billows are the heav¬ 
ing of its lungs. Tho kiss of tho breeze gives it 
health aud purity; both are strangled by the 
leaden weight of a breathless calm, and 
“Slimy thinarn «h> crawl with legs 
Upon the slimy sea.” 
Since then our life is but a breath, let it at least 
be strong and pure, and let us not attempt the 
futile experiment of seeking It in exhausted re¬ 
ceivers .—Springfield Kepubticnn. 
EXTREMES IN GOVERNMENT. 
Some one has said that there is just as much 
family government now as formerly; only it 
changed hands. Parents once governed their 
children; now children mle their parents. There 
is truth as well as pith iu this remark. In many 
families there is scarcely the semblance of pa¬ 
rental control. A false kindness suffers the 
caprice and whims of cbildreu to sot aside tho 
rightful and necessary authority of the parent. 
As an excuse for such ruinous Indulgence, it is 
gravely urged that children feel the pang of dis¬ 
appointment in there ambitions and plans just as 
keenly as adults, and that individual liberty is 
just as precious to them. If a boy takes a notion 
that marble-playing is more pleasant than going 
to school, it would be cruel to force him to go 
“ against his will!” If a bouncing girl does not 
like to work, the mother should make a slave of 
herself, least she makes labor a task to the child ! 
Little hearts should not be made to ache by 
being sent to bed at an early hour, or by being 
reqniredtoHpoak respectfully to superiors ! Wben 
children wish to talk,parents should listen, other¬ 
wise they may interibre with the < rights’’ of 
childhood ! 
This state of things, far too prevalent, is in part 
t he resultofa strong reaction against that heartless 
barbarity which characterized tbe old English sys¬ 
tem of family and school government Theindig- 
nities heaped upon childhood under this system, 
even when tempered by parental love, were a dis¬ 
grace to Christian civilization. In the early part 
of the last century, the great public school of Eton 
was little btitter than a slave plantation or hostile. 
So dreadful was tho master's severity that Steele, 
though “ not, remarkably unlucky.” having been 
severely punished only about ** once a month,” 
dreamed of him, at least as often, twenty years 
after ho had felt his heavy hand ! He states that 
ho has seen many a white and tender hand whip¬ 
ped till it was covered with blood, perhaps for 
smiling, or tor going a yard and a half out of the 
gate, or for writing an o for an a, or an a for an 
o. But we need not go backjto the last century to 
find children subjected to relentless tyranny aud 
cruelty. A letter now before us bears personal 
testimony that “man’s Inhumanity to”—boys 
GOOD NIGHT, MY CHILD. 
Goon night, my child .'—good night! 
May angcla bright, 
With goldon wings outspread, 
Surround thy bod, 
And gently aeal thy closed eyes 
Till morn arise 
With its refreshing beams of light— 
Good uight, tny child I—good night! 
Good night, my child!—good night I 
May He whose sight 
Extends from polo to pole, 
Watch o’er thy soul, 
And keep thee guileless all thy days 
From evil ways. 
And loam to walk His holy ways upright— 
Good night, my child I—good night I 
Good night, my child!—good uight I 
Let tliy delight 
Be in the constant love 
Of Him above I 
And always, In thy daily prayer, 
Implore Him there, 
That He would still uphold thee in His might. 
Good uight, my child!—good night I 
♦ «+ 
THE LITTLE BUILDERS. 
Children are apt to fancy that U isn'tof much 
consequence what they do. Other people do the 
work and they do the play, other people cook and 
they eat, other people stitch aud they wear. They 
are liko pet rabbits or Guinea pigs, kept to be 
looked at, and to be funny. This might be very 
true if they were always to be children, with 
middle-aged fathers and mothers to lake care of 
them, aud pet or punish them, and pay their bills, 
frills and forage. But some day the door of the 
rabbit-hutch will open, and out will walk the 
full-grown men and women, to step into the 
places of those who have laid down to rest. 
What kind of men and women will theyib© ? 
They will bo just such men and women as they 
have made themselves during all those years of 
fun and play. You have seen little girls busy 
making dolls, stuffing and shaping them and 
painting their cheeks Mid putting on their 
dresses. Now every litllo girl was making her¬ 
self at the same time, for though a great many 
women make dolls yet tho little girls make all 
the women. 
You have seen workmen building a brick 
house; some men bring bricks and some mortar, 
and the mason lays every brick in its place and 
Is very careful to make it lie true and firm. 
Now every one of you. is building up his own 
character, just as the mason builds a house, only 
you are not quite so particular about your bricks. 
Every good resolution you make is a broad stone 
for the underpinning; and if you break your re¬ 
solutions your fine house will rest upon broken 
stones. Every lessou you learn, every piece of 
faithful work you do, lays a fair, smooth brick In 
the right place; all the Imperfect lessons and 
slighted work, utt the idleness and mischief, 
buildup the wall with refuse bricks and stones 
and rubbish. When the house is done, yon have 
got to live iu it all your life, and if it, looks badly 
his capacity as a teacher; and in the very titles of 
his degree, as m agister, and doctor, he was desig¬ 
nated steadier. "A man never knows anything,” 
Sir William used to say. “until he has ta.igbtitin 
some way or other; it may be orally, it may be 
writing a book.” 11 is a grand truth, and points a 
flue moral. Knowledge is knowledge, say tho 
philosophers; it is precious for its own sake, it is 
an end to itself. But nature says the opposite. 
Knowledge ia not knowledge until wo use it; it is 
not ours until we have brought it under tho com¬ 
mand of the great social faculty, speech; we exist 
for society, and knowledge is nnll until wo give 
It expression, and in so doing make it over to tho 
social instinct. 
■ -- - t »♦ ■ ■ ■ 
EDUCATION IN TURKEY. 
The Star of the East , a journal published at 
Constantinople, affords the following particulars 
of the Christian Schools in the Turkish Empire. 
Those are derived, according to that journal, from 
the bureau of the Ministry of Public Instruction 
in Turkey: 
At Constantinople and in the environs: schools 
LM; professors, -172; pupils of both sexes. 1(1,217. 
Subjects of instruction: general history, sacred 
history, philosophy, tbe catechism, grammar, 
mythology, geography, arithmetic, geometry, 
physics, theology, ethics, calligraphy; of lan¬ 
guages, the Greek, French, Turkish, Latin, etc. 
Iu Rotuneliu and tho Isles of the Archipelago: 
schools, 1,002; professors, 1,747; pupils of both 
sexes 87,231. Subjects of instruction: the Greek 
and Bulgarian languages, and in certain schools 
arithmetic, geometry, geography, history, calli¬ 
graphy, and the French and German languages. 
In Anatoila and Arabia: schools, 720; profes¬ 
sors, 003: pupils of both sexes, 34,050. Subjects 
of instruction: the Gospel and the Psalms; of 
languages, the Arabic, Turkish, Chaldaic, Syriac, 
Greek and Armenian; history, geography, music 
and manual labor. Total: schools, 1,502; profes¬ 
sors. 3,122; pupils (both sexes included,) 138,387. 
In Constantinople itself, and hi the suburbs, 
there are counted 127 schools, of which 77 are 
Greek, with 0.477 pupils; 37 Armenian, G.52S pu¬ 
pils; 5 Protestant, 82 pupils; and 8 Catholic, 500 
pupils. The Greek schools are divided into two 
categories. 45 inferior or “allelodidactic,"’ so 
termed from the system of mutual instruction 
adopted in them; and 25 Hellenic schools or 
gymnasia, in which the principal subject of in¬ 
struction is the Greek language .—Massachusetts 
Teacher. 
Teaching is essentially a co-operative act. 
an intemperate use of these or any other things 
is not to be defended. On this point there can 
be no dispute. We but combat the position that 
a temperate use of either makes a man morally 
impure; arid the further and more important 
position that moral evils can be cured by human 
means and agencies. 
Let the candid man but consider. Probably 
nowhere else in tbe civilized world has there 
boon a tithe of tho “ reform” efforts put forth to 
stop sin and make men better than have been 
employed in this country the last twenty-five 
years. Societies ad infinitum have been organ¬ 
ized, and men and women have studied and 
devised, and run to and fro, heller skelter, all 
determined to do “good" and make the world 
better, and all this while,—who shall deny it?— 
we have grown worse aud worse, until to-day we 
stand the hissing and scorn of the nations of the 
earth, and tho wickedest and the bloodiest acting 
people that the sun shines upon. Whether the 
faith of tho people in “ Reforms” will continue, 
time will determine. “ There is a more excel¬ 
lent way.” w. b. p. 
only forty years ago. led the writer to wish that you will find it a very hard task to take the bad 
all schoolmasters “ werethang at tho first lamp spots out of the wall and fill them up with good, 
post." W© can also testify that this race of inbu- acceptable work. It will take twenty years > 
man “floggers” was not extinct atalnter period, build vour house, (though it mig it buiu < own 
Our first schoolmaster, his name and mien are one hour,) and twenty more to fill it with 
happily alike forgotten, was cruelty incarnate, choice furniture and books and triends. 1 hope 
Among his devices to keep little children stlllon all you little builders will like your work when 
backless seats, wore “gagging,” car pulling, and it is done. Springfield Republican. 
holding out weights at arm’s length ! Tho blows 
of las heavy ruler gave no uncertain Hound. 
Wo have thus referred (to these two extreme 
practices in the government of children for the 
AFRAID OF THUNDER. 
“Shall I tell you what I heard Uncle Gillette 
purpose of condemning both. Neither is govern- saying to one of the little girls at school who was 
merit; the one is license, and the other a harbor- afraid of thunder?” 
_. .. - . . . n »■ n « v l _ 
tented spirits may still exist, but tbe public The mind of tho teacher and the mind of the 
mind, no longer so easily swayed, would be un- scholar must both act, and must act together, in 
affected by them. The human mind is a maga- intellectual co-operation and sympathy, If there 
zine ot fire, rendered doubly dangerous and is to be any true mental growth.— Prof. Hart. 
THE BREATH OF LIFE. 
Whatever lives must breathe. Whatever 
shelters or feeds life must breathe also. As is 
the breath so is the life, for health is but a pulmo¬ 
nary function, and happiness a castle in the air. 
The blood, stifled with ill-supplied or incapable 
lungs, blackens and curdles; the hair, stifled be¬ 
neath an impenetrable hat, dies and falls away; 
the skin, stifled by garments too many and too 
Close, or smothered by its own unremoved excre¬ 
tions, yields its duty as guardian of the outposts 
of life and betrays the citadel to the enemy. 
It utters its mute protest against rubber boots 
and air-proof coats, which, unless briefly and 
loosely worn, are portable death. Houses, too, 
must breathe as well as garments. A breathless 
house is suicide made easy. The asthmatic com¬ 
plains of his labored breathing, but forgets that 
his bouse wheezes worse than he through its list¬ 
ed windows and doors. He shuts the casement 
because It admits cold; he shuts tho stove damp¬ 
er because it allows the escape of beat. Mow is 
his house to catch its breath with mouth and nos¬ 
trils closed ? Mamma folds ber sleeping little 
ones in blankets, and tucks them into their close 
cribs with impenetrable Marseilles, of a texture 
fit for a balloon: if the chicks are lioiid they 
draw the white drapery over tboir heads, shutting 
out any quantity of bugbears, but shutting in a 
veritable nightmare of exhausted poisonous air. 
Warmth Is essential to comfort, but pure air 
and rich blood are the healthiest healers known. 
The earth itself floats in an air-bath forty-five 
miles in depth. The soil must breathe or it will 
ous despotism. We beliave in government, both 
In the family and in the school-room. We hold 
that the. cardinal right of childhood is to be gov¬ 
erned—humanely, tenderly, Imt firmly governed. 
We can see neither reason nor humanity iu suffer¬ 
ing a child to become a prey to its own bandit 
appetites and passions. We see no kindness in 
permitting a morbid rellahjfor dainties and rich 
food to fill a child’s adult years with the torments 
of dyspepsia. 
Children should be trained up in the habits of 
respect for the presence, person and judgment 
“ O do 1” said Lucy, “ I am so frightened when 
it thunders.” 
Lucy nestled closer to her sister’s lap, and 
Rosa began: 
“There was once a mighty king who was so 
terrible in war that all his enemies were afraid of 
him; the very sound of his uame made them 
tremble. His turn was so strong that the horse 
and his rider would sink under the one blow of 
his battle-axe; and when he struck with his 
sharp sword, his enemies fell dead at his feet. 
This mighty king had a little fair-haired daugh- 
of their superiors and of obedience to all proper w j 1() watched him as he prepared for battle, 
authority. In onr judgment that system of gov- g| u> aaw iq in pu t on his helmet, and laughed as 
ernmentis best that secures these high ends effi¬ 
ciently with the least possible reliance upon the 
rod. We admit, that there must be punishment 
where there is law, but we scout the monstrous 
idea that the vindication of the teacher’s authority 
demands bodily suffering for every know n misde¬ 
meanor or disorder. In a future article, we hope 
to proeent our views ou punishment in a more 
satisfactory manner .—Ohio Educational Monthly 
-- - ♦ »-» - - • 
Colonists.— How simple are the manners of 
tho early colonists ! The first ripening of any 
European fruit was distinguished by a family 
festival. Garcilasso do la Yega relates how his 
dear father, tho valorous Andreo, collected to¬ 
gether iu his chamber seven or eight gentleman 
to share with him three asparaguses, thu first 
that ever grew on the table-lundof Cusco. When 
the operation of dressing them was over, (and it 
is minutely described,) he distributed the two 
largest among his friends; begging that the com¬ 
pany would not take it ill if he reserved the third 
for himself, as it was a thing from Spain. 
Association.— Every man, like Gulliver in 
Lilliput, is fastened to some spot of earth, by the 
thousand small threads which habit and associa¬ 
tion are continually throwing around him. Of 
these, perhaps, one of the strongest is hero al¬ 
luded to. When the Canadian Indians were 
once solicited to emigrate, “ What!” they re¬ 
plied, “ shall we say to the bones of our fathers, j 
‘ Arise, and go with us into a foreign land V ” 1 
the jilumes nodded above his brow. She saw 
tho stately battle-axe brought forth; she saw him 
take his keen sword in his hand: he tried ita 
edge, and then waved it about his head in the 
sunlight.. She laughed as its sparkling glanced 
in the sunlight; and even while it was upheld, 
she ran toward her father to take a parting kiss. 
Why was not tbe little child afraid of the mighty 
king with the fierce weapons? Because ho was 
her father; she knew that he loved her—loved 
her as his own life. She knew those dangerous 
weapons would never be raised against her, un¬ 
less to save her from worse peril. Do you un¬ 
derstand what Uncle Gillette meant by this 
story?” 
“Not exactly,” said Lucy. Wont you tell 
me ?” 
«ii a meant,” said Rosa, “ that God is like that 
mighty king; sickness, lightning, danger, trial, 
death, are all his weapons; bat wejneed not fear 
them, if we are truly his children. When the 
sharp lightning flashes in the sky,',we can look 
calmly at its beauty, for it is in our Lather's 
hand; sickness may be aroundjus. but our Father 
can keep ns safe. Death may come, but it will 
only be to send us to our Father’s arms.” 
Mix, the individual, and man, the race, must 
press on! Neither has yet attained. Both must 
go forward! “And tbe Lord said unto Moses, 
speak unto the children of Israel that they go 
forward.” 
