are aroused by our unwise or unskilful management,-a kind of management that we are led into, by very wrong feelings; which we express perhaps in restrained and gentle tones, but which are very wrong notwithstanding, and which utterly vitiate the moral effect of all that we do.

The effect of keeping the heart of the parent always in a state of communion and sympathy with that of the child is not only to clothe him with great moral power,-it tends to add to his happiness. Childhood is the season of happiness; by sympathizing with childhood we share its joys, we bring back, as it were, the sweet influences of early days over our minds again, and share in the hilarity, the romance, the lightheartedness of our glad companions. The cares and anxieties of life, which would otherwise be our ceaseless burden, relax their pressure. The restless dissatisfaction with the past and the striving after something future, which impel us to nearly all the toils and labours of life, give way to a quiet enjoyment of the present hour. The dull, sober, sombre hues with which the world comes to be decked after forty years' experience of its emptiness and vanity, are replaced by a far more cheerful colouring when, by joining our children, we take our view from their position, and see, as it were, with their eyes. Thus it is that the spectacle which would be dull and irksome to you alone, is a source of great pleasure when you go to it in company with your child. Your juvenile companion is the life and soul of your journey; his presence is the great element of pleasure in your walk or your ride. It is not so much that he says or does anything which is directly a source of enjoyment to you, but by being with him and observing his thoughts and feelings you enter yourself into the spirit of them while in his presence, you see the world with his eyes, you share in his admiration, you catch the spirit of his romance, and your heart becomes young again. This effect is unfailing and universal. Even in showing the moon to an infant we share his wonder at its brilliancy and beauty, and the grandfather spinning a top for his grandson revives in his own heart a capacity for a kind of pleasure which has perhaps lain dormant for fifty years; and which nothing but sympathy with a boy's delight could have ever awakened again. Let him, therefore, who loves care, solicitude, and anxiety, give all his hours to business-but let him who seeks for happiness give a part of every day to his children.

In conclusion, I must remark that I should be very sorry if anything that I have said on the importance of a kind, and

gentle, and sympathizing treatment of the young, were to be considered, by any one, as encouraging a relaxation of that efficiency of government, which the parent ought to exert over the child. I think these views have no such tendency. There must be a most decided and efficient government over the young, or they are never safe. They must be required to submit, not to the mother's reasons, but to her authority. In all your free and familiar intercourse with your child, you must remember that you are his parent still, the vicegerent of God, entrusted with a very absolute power over him, which you are bound to preserve and to exercise, mildly indeed but firmly. I have urged you to act the part of his counsellor and friend,-in doing it do not forget that you are his parent, and that while you endeavour to lead him by the influence of affection as much as you can, you are still bound to preserve your authority unimpaired, and to keep him at all times under an efficient and complete control. But I am sure that on the principles which I have now advocated, this may be done far more easily and effectually than in any other way.

CHRISTIAN SCRIVER'S THOUGHTS.
From the German.

INFIRMITIES.

A PIOUS man was complaining of his many infirmities. He said, "I am like a child, which readily gives a thing, but soon takes it back. I often purpose to give up many things to my God, and then resume them for myself. When he rebukes and chastens me, I make many resolves, but alas, I soon forget, and fail to keep them. Here tears stood in his eyes. "Well," said Gotthold, "if you are like a child, remember, God is a father who pitieth his children," Psa. ciii. 13. I never yet saw or heard of a father, who would, for one single offence, turn his child out of doors, or even cast him into the fire or water. It is impossible to train or bring up any child without parental patience, and much tenderness; and without much forbearance and tenderness from God, no man could enter heaven. Shall we, sinful men, think our selves to have more patience than the gracious and longsuffering God? The moon has some spots even when her beams are the brightest, and Christians, in this world, are never without sin. They have indeed forsaken their sins, but their sins have not forsaken them. Remember, that you are under the care and leading of a good and gracious God, who knoweth well whereof we are made, and whose wisdom and

goodness are the most clearly seen, in bearing with our infirmities, and turning them to our profit, with the tenderness of a father. The blood and merits of his crucified Son Jesus, are never forgotten by him. You have not to appear before God as you are in yourself, but as you are in Christ, and as he is in you.

Do you know, why God permits us to have these many infirmities, and to struggle with them day by day? Doubtless it is that Jesus and his blood may be the more precious to us, and that we may seek him the more earnestly, and be compelled to cling the more closely to him. Let your infirmities and evil thoughts make you humble, but not unbelieving or discouraged, in mind. If God gives you grace to mourn for them, remember, that while your tears flow, the blood of Jesus also flows, to cleanse us from all sin. Daily contend with your faults, and as far as you can, keep them down, in the strength of the Lord. But if you are overcome by them, Christ has never yet been overcome.

"Ah," said the other," that is a comfort, but it is one that ungodly and careless people often abuse."

"There is a great difference between them and the godly," answered his friend, "as there is between a child that falls from carelessness and weakness, cries out for help, and when picked up runs in haste to its mother to be made clean, and the sow that delights to wallow in the mire. If the sow should not be compared to such a child, neither should the impenitent and careless boast of being like the sinning but repentant child of God."

WEAR A SMILE.

WHICH Will you do-smile and make others happy, or be crabbed, and make every body around you miserable? You can live as it were among beautiful flowers and singing birds, or in the mire, surrounded by fogs and frogs. The amount of happiness you can produce is incalculable, if you will show a smiling face and a kind heart, and speak pleasant words. On the other hand, by sour looks, cross words, and a fretful disposition, you can make a number of persons wretched almost beyond endurance. Which will you do? Wear a pleasant countenance; let joy beam in your eyes, and love glow in your face. There are few joys so great as that which springs from a kind act or a pleasant deed, and you may feel it at night when you rest, at morning when you rise, and through the day, when about your daily business.

"A smile! who will refuse a smile,
The sorrowing breast to cheer,
And turn to love the heart of guile,
And check the falling tear?
A pleasant smile for every face,
Öh, 'tis a blessed thing!
It will the lines of care erase,
And those of beauty bring."

TRACT ANECDOTES.

TRACTS IN FRANCE.

THE following account is given by a tract-distributor (colporteur) of the Toulouse Tract and Book Society.

"Thanks be to God for having given me to taste of the fruit of my humble efforts during a long course of evangelization. You will learn this with pleasure, and it will gladden your heart.

"Some weeks ago, I arrived in the faubourg of Fontenay, towards the close of day. The evening was beautiful, and nearly all the inhabitants were seated at their doors, to breathe the fresh air, after the fatigues of the day. One woman arose as I approached; I bowed to her in passing, and she began to converse with me, begging, at the same time, that I would go into her house and rest. I accepted her offer, and entered a cabinet-maker's workshop. An old man was kneeling in one corner, praying with his beads; he rose as soon as he saw me, and seated himself by me. I made some observation on the interruption I had caused in his devotions, to which he answered, that he had already said his beads nine times during the day, and that there was quite time enough to say them again before going to bed. I asked him if he knew all the doctrines of the Catholic religion, for that I had a book explaining them all, and if he liked, I should be very happy to lend it to him. He accepted it eagerly, and I left him the tract Instructions of the Romish Church,' promising that, if the Lord pleased, I would return to see him in a week's time. "At the appointed time I returned; he had read all the book. The consequence was, his faith in Romanism was shaken, and his wife had borrowed a Bible, in order to examine if what she had read was there confirmed, and of this she was fully persuaded. However, faithful to the precepts of her religion, she declared at the confessional both her reading of the Bible, and her doubts as to the true religion, which had entered her mind; but in spite of the prohibition of the confessor, she had already read too much to stop in her

researches after gospel truth. The old man was not more at ease than his wife, and he told me that he regretted having read my book, as he had no longer any confidence in his religion; yet he still clung to it, and a scruple of conscience led him to avow all to his confessor. Such was the state of affairs on my second visit, and they neither knew whether they ought to receive me, nor what to say to me. I read to them John iii., and explained it familiarly, to which they listened attentively. Having finished with prayer, I asked them to give me back the book which had caused them so much trouble, but they begged I would give them time to read it once again.

"Ten days afterwards, I paid them another visit, and found them very indignant with their priest, who had revealed their confessions to one of their neighbours, who had repeated it to many persons.

"The old man's confessor had advised him to leave his wife, who was now perverted by the Protestants;' this had made him resolve never to return to confession. Their reading, with the help of the Spirit of God, had shown them their blindness and their errors, and they were now conquered by the gospel. The woman, more advanced than her husband, had already destroyed her beads, and she wished her husband to do the same. 'No,' said he, 'I shall give them to Mr.

in order that if I should ever be weak enough to fall again into the errors which have so long blinded me, he may reprove me by reproducing the pledges of my new faith. Here, sir, take these beads, with which I have prayed or rather made vain and useless repetitions for more than fifteen years. Here is also a miraculous medal, in which I placed all that confidence which ought to be given to God, the only protector.' I took home these trophies of a victory over Romanism, and I left instead of them a New Testament and 'The Commencement and Progress of True Piety,' which he read with eagerness, with prayer, and edification.

"On my fourth visit this good old man told me that he had forgotten to give me an idol which he had carried for forty years next his heart, and which he had valued more than his life. It was a piece of the true cross, all wormeaten; but to complete the sacrifice, he had thrown it into the fire, and had seen it consume away without regret. His greatest pleasure now, is to converse about the gospel; and his wife has received the power to believe in the sacrifice of Jesus, and to receive him as her Saviour. Your good books, with the help of God's grace, will strengthen these converts