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rugged pathways of the place, until he brought him in front of a high rock, near the top of which an eagle had built her eyrie. “Why has the eagle builded her nest yonder?” said the dervise. “Doubtless,” replied the king, “ that it may be out of the way of danger.” “Then imitate the bird,” said the dervise; “build thy throne in heaven, and thou shalt reign there unmolested and in peace.”

Now the king would have willingly given the dervise a hundred pieces of gold, if he would have accepted it, for this precious piece of advice; and here am I giving it to you for nothing. It may be as useful to you all as it was to the king, for you are all as much interested in being happy as he was. As the eagle built her nest on the rugged rock, build your hope on the “Rock of Ages.” As the dervise told the king to erect his throne in heaven, so I tell you to “seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth,” Col. iii. 1, 2. Do this, and you will be above the reach of danger for time and eternity.

Farewell, my boys, farewell! I hope that I leave you all as happy as I found you. The pleasures of youth have been mine, and the cares of manhood have been endured by me;

but if you were to ask me at this moment what makes my heart at ease, my spirit cheerful, and my hope bright, I would answer, Because I believe that “Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners," 1 Tim. i. 15; and that, when flesh and heart fail me, God will be the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever.

CALL ON A PARTY OF GIRLS. Well, my little maidens, your tongues are going like a watchman's rattle, and you are skipping about like so many lambs in a meadow, on a May morning. A good game at play now and then is an excellent thing, and a cheerful spirit, a thankful heart, and a light pair of heels, are worth having. Now let me tell you that if you had a holiday all the year round, you would possess neither happy hearts nor cheerful spirits, for too much even of a holiday is good for nothing.

When you are at work in school, most of you are good girls, and those who are not, will I hope soon become so; therefore I do not grudge you the holiday you so much enjoy. Jump about, then, with your skipping-ropes and your shuttle-cocks, for it is a pleasant sight to see young people innocently happy.

I see that all of you can play; but stop just for two minutes, while I ask if you are equally clever at other things. Dearly do I love young people to be useful: can you make a fire, clean up a house, and rub chairs and tables?

Can you sew, knit, mend stockings, and put a patch on a garment quickly and neatly?

Can you wash, iron, and fold linen? Can you cook a mutton-chop, or a beef-steak? and make a pudding, a cake, and a pie-crust?

Can you tie up a cut finger properly? put leeches on a person who requires them ? and dress a burn or a scald ?

Can you nurse carefully and kindly, never losing your temper, nor neglecting the child under your care ?

There are things more important than these, but you are all too light-hearted for me to enter upon them now. Let me hope, however, that you can reply in a satisfactory manner to the questions I have proposed; for, if you cannot, the sooner you learn to do these things the better—not one, but all of them, for they form a part only of what young girls ought to know. All of you have not the same opportunities of acquiring knowledge ; but where there is among young people a desire to be useful on the one hand, and a disposition to render assistance on the other, no one need be altogether ignorant of these things. But I will now take my leave, for I see that you are on the tip-toe for your amusements. May your most cheerful moments be free from sins, your youth and your age be spent in God's service, and the pleasures of earth be succeeded by the joys of heaven.


You must not take it amiss that I look in for a moment, as I make my accustomed call on some of your neighbours. Your habit of reading infidel books makes me feel uncomfortable on your account; for though you may not fully believe them, no one can handle pitch without being defiled. I will tell you an anecdote that I have just read, and as you have children of your own, perhaps, for their sakes, you will take heed to the lesson of instruction it contains.

Colonel Allen, of the United States of America, was an active infidel, and while his daughter received from her mother the lessons of Christian instruction, the colonel endeavoured to fill her mind with infidelity.

This daughter was taken ill, and while the colonel was looking over some infidel publications in his library with Doctor Elliot, a message summoned him to her bed-side. She was

evidently drawing near her latter end. “Father,” said she, “ I am dying; tell me, am I to believe what you have taught me, or what I have learned from my mother ?”

The colonel dearly loved his daughter; he paused; he fixed his eyes on his dying child, and changed countenance, while his whole body appeared to be convulsed. At last his quivering lips uttered the words, “ Believe, my child, what your mother has taught you.”

Now, in reading your infidel publications, and allowing them to lie about within the reach of your family, ask yourself this question : “ If my children were now on their death-beds, which should I wish them to believe — the blessed truths of the Bible, which are full of hope, and peace, and joy; or the hollow-hearted creed of infidelity, which is made up of doubt, darkness, and despair ?”


Do not trouble yourself, Sukey, to reach a chair; for I am in too much haste to sit down. How does your little garden go on? Come, the rose-tree is a beauty, and the mignonette smells as sweet as a May morning. This little border of flowers gives you more pleasure than

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