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C, Mag. V. 15. Soldier of Cochin China. p. 2 




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J. Collord, Printer. 

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University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 




Cochin China, the place to which our travel- 
lers were now directing their course, had been 
visited by them on their passage to Bombay, 
but their stay had been then too limited to 
allow them accurately to inspect it. It is the 
chief city of a district, as we have already men- 
tioned, on the western coast, and belonging to 
a native prince or rajah, who is under the pro- 
tection of the British. It is built in the form of 
a semicircle, on a small island, which stands at 
the mouth of the Gali Coylang river. The 
streets are wide and commodious, and the style 
of the buildings so like that of the Dutch, that, 
were it not for the oriental costume of its inha- 
bitants, and the vegetation about it, a stranger 
might suppose himself in a town in Flanders. 
The harbour is on the north-east side of the 
town, and though the approach to it is difficult, 
owing to the bar which the river makes, and 
which can be passed only at high water, it is a 
place of much commerce ; exchanging its com- 
modities with the whole coast of India, Arabia, 
Persia, China, and Bengal. This part of the 
Malabar coast is much visited by sharks, for as 


Captain Blisset and William walked over the 
green which adjoins the town, they saw a large 
collection of the fins and tail of this fish, ex- 
posed to the sun to dry, and which they were 
told was intended for the China market. 

In the course of their stay at Cochin, it was 
observed by our travellers that scarcely one of 
the natives had his legs equally paired. This 
is owing to a swelling to which they are subject, 
which commences at the knee, and descends 
to the ankle, but does not hinder them from 
walking about as well as if both were per- 
fect ; some impute it to the water, and others 
to the fish diet, which they principally use ; 
such a limb is known throughout India by 
the name of a Cochin leg. — Travels in Asia. 


Without genius, and with no great share of 
what, in a modified sense, is termed ability, 
James Lackington, the bookseller, has yet con- 
trived to write his autobiography to be read and 
remembered. The account he gives of himself 
shows nothing of the struggles of latent talent 
seeking to distinguish itself — no deep aspira- 
tions of heart and mind after what we may term 
heroic greatness — none of that burning sense 
of immortal powers, kept down and crushed by 
circumstances of poverty and obscurity, which 
gives such soul-stirring interest to the early 


confessions of those who have subsequently- 
risen to great literary distinction, and proved an 
honour to the country that gave them birth. 

The autobiography of Lackington illustrates 
little more than the desperate and deadly strug- 
gle of a man, surrounded by obstacles appa- 
rently insurmountable, for the means of exist- 
ence ; and prove subsequently how much in a 
worldly sense may be achieved by economy, 
hope, and that plodding industry which scarcely 
ever ceases, and never tires. In this view, the 
Life of James Lackington Js practically and 
highly useful. It reads a lesson about the com- 
mon world, and the way of succeeding in it, by 
which every man, without exception, and the 
young in particular, may profit much. 

Lackington wrote, as we have observed, his 
own memoirs. After stating that he was born 
at Wellington, in Shropshire, in 1746, and 
having detailed at some length the diificulties 
of , his mother in obtaining support for eleven, 
children, which she was obliged to do almost 
single handed, in consequence of the dissolute 
habits of her husband, (,a journeyman shoe- 
maker,) the author proceeds to speak of himself. 
His schooling, which was on a very small scale, 
and, according to the old-fashioned system, and 
his mischievous propensities when a boy, next 
occupy his pen. 

At fourteen years of age he was bound an 
apprentice to a Mr. Bowden, of Taunton, a man 
in the same business as young Lackington's 
father. And the space of seven years did he 


devote in acquiring the practice and secrets of 
the " gentle craft." At fifteen he appears to 
have been seized with a kind of phrensy for the 
study of theology, in consequence of having at- 
tended the discourses of a Methodist preacher. 
In his own words, " a religious fervour over- 
spread my mind and engrossed all my faculties." 
This, however, had one good effect — it led me 
to the study of the Bible. 

" In the fourth year of my apprenticeship," 
says he, " my master died, but as 1 had been 
bound to my mistress as well as my master, I 
was, of course, an apprentice still ; but after my 
master's death I obtained more liberty of con- 
science, so that I not only went to hear the 
Methodists, but was admitted into their society, 
and I believe they never had a more devout 
member. For several years I regularly attend- 
ed every sermon and all their meetings ; but 
alas! my good feelings at length suffered in- 

A general election took place at Taunton ; 
six months of young Lackington's time were 
bought out in order to give him a vote, and, 
although he refused direct bribes, he ate and 
drank at the cost of the candidates, and mingled 
in scenes of riot and dissipation, amid which 
he adds : 

" I had nearly sunk for ever into meanness, 
obscurity, and vice ; for when the election was 
over, I had no longer open houses to eat and 
drink in at free cost; and having refused bribes, 
I was nearly out of cash. I began the world 

HE child's magazine. 9 

with an unsuspecting heart, and was tricked out 
of about three pounds (every shilling I was 
possessed of) and part of my clothes, by some 
country sharpers. Having one coat and two 
waistcoats left, I lent my best waistcoat to an 
acquaintance, who left the town and forgot to 
return it." 

However, he continued to work hard at his 
trade, and in various towns, Bristol included. 

" I had not long resided a second time with 
my good Bristol friends, before I renewed 
my correspondence with an amiable young 
woman, whom I had formerly known, named 
Nancy Smith. I informed her that my attach- 
ment to books, together with travelling from 
place to place, and also my total disregard for 
money, had prevented me from saving any, and 
that, while I remained in a single unsettled 
state, I was never likely to accumulate it. I 
also pressed her very much to come to Bristol 
to be married, which she soon complied with ; 
and married we were, at St. Peter's Church, to- 
ward the end of the year 1770, nearly seven years 
after my first declaring my attachment to her. 

" We kept our wedding at the house of my 
friends, the Messrs. Jones, and retired to ready 
furnished lodgings, which we had before pro- 
vided, at half a crown per week. Our finances 
were but just sufficient to pay the expenses of 
the day ; for the next morning, in searching our 
pockets, (which we did not do in a careless 
manner,) we discovered that we had but one 
halfpenny to begin the world with. 


"We made four shillings and sixpence per 
week to pay for the whole of what we con- 
sumed in eating and drinking. Strong beer we 
had none, and instead of tea, or rather coffee, 
we toasted a piece of bread ; at other times we 
fried some wheat, which, when boiled in water, 
made a tolerable substitute for coffee ; and as 
to animal food, we made use of but little, and 
that little we boiled and made broth of. But 
we were quite contented, and never wished for 
any thing that we had not got. 

" Unfortunately, our health failed under these 
circumstances, and we were both together taken 
so ill as to be confined to our bed ; but the good 
woman of the house, our landlady, came to our 
room and did a few trifles for us. 

" I recovered without the help of medicine ; 
but my wife continued ill nearly six months, 
and was confined to her bed the greatest part 
of the time." 

His wife after a time recovered, and we next 
find them in London. 

Lackington, during all these years of trial, 
had sought some consolation in books. He ap- 
pears from youth to have had a particular love 
for literary recreations amid starvation and 
trouble, and to have searched the old book- 
stalls of his neighbourhood, in hopes of picking 
up some printed relic to console him in those 
deplorable days when he and his wife took 
roasted bread instead of coflfee. 

In 1774 he set up shop in Featherstone- 
street, his stock consisting of " a bag full of old 


books, chiefly on divinity, and some old scraps 
of leather, worth together about five pounds. 

" I lived in this street six months, and in 
that time increased my stock from five pounds 
to twenty-five pounds. This immense stock I 
deemed too valuable to be buried in Feather- 
stone-street, and a shop and parlour being to 
let in Chisewell-street, No. 46, I took them. 
This was at that time, and for fourteen years 
afterward, a very dull and obscure situation, as 
few ever passed through it besides Spitalfield's 
weavers on hanging days, proceeding toward 
Tyburn ; but still it was much better adapted 
for business than Featherstone-street. A few 
weeks after I came to this street, I bade a final 
adieu to the gentle craft, and converted my little 
stock of leather and tools into books." 

In 1775 his wife died: an event at which 
Mr. Lackington expressed himself "involved 
in the deepest distress." It was not so deep, 
nevertheless, as to prevent his very soon look- 
ing out for another. This was a young woman 
of the neighbourhood who kept a school, and 
had kindly attended his first wife in her illness. 

" I embraced the first opportunity to make 
her acquainted with my mind, and being no 
strangers to each other, there was no need of a 
formal courtship ; so I prevailed on her to be 
my wife, and we were married on the 30th of 
January, 1776." 

From this time we went on prospering. In 
1784 his shop contained thirty thousand 
volumes. He then lived in a superior style, 


12 THE child's magazine. 

having a country house, and a chariot to take 
him to town. In 1792 his profits amounted to 
five thousand pounds. Six years later he re- 
tired into Gloucestershire, leaving his business 
to a relation ; but subsequently he went to re- 
side in Alverstone. Some twenty or thirty 
years he had abandoned the Methodist connec- 
tion, and spoke very harshly of that body in his 
published memoirs. 

In his retirement he repented of this pro- 
ceeding ; and again joined that persuasion ; 
besides building and endowing various chapels. 
He died at Budleigh, SuUerton, in Devonshire, 
on the 22d November, 1815, aged 70 years. 


"A friend called on M. Angelo, who was 
finishing a statue. Some time after, he. called 
again. The sculptor was still at his work. His 
friend, looking at the picture, exclaimed, ' Have 
you been idle since I saw you last V ' By no 
means,' replied the sculptor. ' I have retouched 
this part, and polished that ; I have softened 
this feature, and brought out this muscle ; I have 
given more expression to this lip, and more en- 
ergy to this limb.' ' Well, well,' said his friend, 
' but all these are trifles.' ' It may be so,' re- 
plied Angelo, ' but recollect that trifles make 
perfection, and that perfection is no trifle."* - 

THE child's magazine. 13 


My chaise the village inn did gain 

Just as the setting sun's last ray 
Tipp'd with refulgent gold the vane 

Of the old church across the way. 

Across the way I silent sped, 

The time \ill supper to beguile, 
In moralizing o'er the dead 

That moulder'd round the ancient pile. 

There many an humble green grave show'd 
Where want, and pain, and toil did rest : 

And many a flattering stone I view'd, 

O'er those who once had wealth possess'd. 

A faded beech its shadow brown 

Threw o'er a grave where sorrow slept ; 

On which, though scarce with grass o'ergrown 
Two ragged children sat and wept. 

A piece of bread between them lay, 
Whfch neither seem'd inclined to take ; 

And yet they seem'd so much a prey 
To want, it caused my heart to ache. 

My little children, let me know 
Why you in such distress appear ; 

And why you wasteful from you throw 

That bread which many a heart would cheer? 

14 THE child's magazine. 

The little boy, in accents sweet, 

Replied, while tears each other chased, 

" Lady, we Ve not enough to eat ; 
And if we had, we would not waste. 

But sister Mary 's naughty grown, 
And will not eat, whate'er I say ; 

Though sure I am, the bread 's her own. 
And she has tasted none to-day." 

" Indeed," the wan starved Mary said, . 

" Till Henry eats I'll eat no more ; 
For yesterday I gofe some bread — 

He's had none since the day before." 

My heart did swell, my bosom heave, 
I felt as though deprived of speech 

I silent sat upon the grave. 

And press'd the clay-cold hand of each. 

With looks that told a tale of wo. 

With looks that spoke a grateful heart. 

The shivering boy did near me draw. 
And thus their tale of wo impart. 

" Before my father went away. 
Enticed by bad men o'er the sea, 

Sister and I did naught but play, 
We lived beside yon great ash tree. 

But then poor mother did so cry. 

And look'd so changed, I cannot tell ; 

And told us that she soon should die, 
And bade us love each other well. 

THE child's magazine. 15 

She said, that when the war was o'er 
Perhaps we might our father see ; 

But if we never saw him more, 

That God our Father then would be. 

She kiss'd us both, and then she died, 
And we no more a mother have ; 

Here many a day we 've sat and cried 
Together, on poor mother's grave. 

But when my father came not here, 
I thought, if we could find the sea. 

We should be sure to meet him there, 
And once again might happy be. 

We, hand in hand, went many a mile, 
And ask'd our way of all we met, 

And some did sigh, and some did smile, 
And we of some did victuals get. 

But when we reach'd the sea, and found 
'Twas one great water round us spread, 

We thought that father must be drown'd. 
And cried, and wish'd we both were dead. 

So we return'd to mother's grave, 

And only long'd with her to be ; 
For Goody, when this bread she gave, 

Said, father died beyond the sea. 

Then since no parents have we here, 
We '11 go and seek for God around. 

Lady, pray can you tell us where 
That God our Father mav be found ? 

16 THE child's magazine. 

He lives in heaven, our mother said, 
And Goody says, that mother's there, 

So, if she knows we want his aid, 

I think, perhaps, she '11 send him here." 

I clasp'd the prattlers to my breast, 

And cried, " Come both, and live with me , 

I 'U clothe you, feed you, give you rest, 
And will a second mother be. 

And God will be your father still, 
'Twas he in mercy sent me here 

To teach you to obey his will. 

Your steps to guide, your hearts to cheer." 


I 've stood to gaze on the sunset hill 

When the winds were hush'd and the waves 

were still ; 
As the sun sank slowly down the west, 
I thought of the good man dropping to rest 
When his race is run — he yields Ms breath, 
And softly sinks in the slumber of death. 
When I gazed on the gorgeous western sky 
I thought of those blissful bowers on high 
Whose brightness, blessedness serene. 
Ear hath not heard — eye hath not seen. 
When I saw the golden glories die, 
I thought on life's uncertainty. 
And as night came on in her ebon gloom, 
O ! I thought of the dark and the dreamless tomb, 
How soon man's fairest prospects flee, 
The curtain drops — " and where is he ?" 



The ichneumon is of the weasel kind, with a 
longer and narrower body than the cat. The 
ordinary colour of its coat is chestnut-brown 
and fawn, the nose and paws deep chestnut 
or black. It is about eighteen inches long, 
exclusive of the tail. The eyes are of a bright 
red : the ears small and rounded : the nose 
long, slender, and pointed. The legs are short, 
and each of its feet has five toes. Its tail is 
very long ; its teeth and tongue much like those 
of a cat. It is a very cleanly animal, very 
brisk and nimble, and of great courage ; being 
neither frightened by the anger of the dog, the 
malice of the cat, nor even dreading the bite of 
the serpent. It is quite inoffensive to mankind, 
being kept tame in Egypt, and running about 
the house, playing tricks like a spaniel. It may 
easily be tamed, and is then more affectionate 
and obedient than a cat, and more useful in de- 
stroying rats and mice. It is a great enemy to 
poultry ; and will often feign itself dead until 
the prey comes within reach, when it suddenly 
leaps upon it. 

Vol. XV.— 2 

18 THE child's magazine. 

When wild it cannot overtake any nimble 
animal, but it makes up for this defect by assi- 
duity. The legs being short, it is not much 
seen ; yet it has a way of concealing itself still 
more, by crawling with its belly close to the 
ground. But on the least noise it starts up 
erect upon the hinder legs. If the noise is 
made by any reptile, bird, or small beast, it 
observes whereabouts it is, places its nose 
directly in a line with it, and begins cautiously 
to move toward it. It often stops to hear, or 
look forward, and knows exactly where the 
creature is. When within about five feet it stops. 
Nature, which has denied it speed, has given it 
strength to leap beyond most other creatures. 
Having taken good aim, it leaps from the place, 
and falls directly upon the prey. 

Thus he deals with beasts and birds ; but to 
serpents he gives chase, and, to avoid their bite, 
always seizes them l)y the neck. If at any 
time it should be bitten by the serpent, as soon 
as it begins to feel the effects of their venom it 
goes immediately in search of antidotes ; parti- 
cularly a root that the Indians call by its name, 
and which they say is one of the most powerful 
antidotes in nature against the poison of the 
viper. It not only kills serpents, but feeds upon 
their eggs. It sucks the eggs and kills the 
young of the crocodile, when the latter are 
scarcely out of their shell. In a wild state they 
swim and dive in the fnanner of the otter, con- 
tinuing beneath the water for a great length of 
time, and supporting themselves by fishing. 

THE child's magazine, 19 

Gesnes tells us, the ichneumon hunts after 
and destroys the serpents' eggs with great dili- 
gence. How mercifully has God given this 
animal in such countries as Egypt, where ser- 
pents, particularly the terrible crocodile, abound, 
and which, without some arrangement of his 
providence to lessen their numbers, would be 
so overrun with them as to be uninhabitable. 

From the Lutheran Observer. 



Taulerus gives us an account of a certain 
divine who was engaged for eight years in un- 
ceasing supplication to God, that he would 
direct him to some person who could show 
him the way to heaven. At length he heard a 
voice which bade him go to the church, and there 
he would find a man at the church door who 
would give him the long asked-for direction. 
When he came to the church door, he there 
saw a poor miserably looking beggar with torn 
clothes and a haggard countenance. He saluted 
the beggar with these words : " God send thee 
a happy morning." 

The beggar replied, " I do not remember of 
ever having had an unhappy morning." 

" Well," says the divine, " I hope God may 
bestow upon you much joy ; what do you say 
to that ?" 

20 THE child's magazine. 

The beggar replied, " 1 have never had any 
sorrow !" 

The divine knew not what to say, but at 
length requested the beggar to explain himself. 

" That I will cheerfully do," says the beggar. 

" In the first place," says he, " you wished 
me a happy morning. I replied, I never ex- 
perienced an unhappy one, and this is actually 
a fact : for when 1 am hungry (which is often 
the case) I praise the Lord ; — when the bleak 
storms of the north bend upon my thinly clad 
body, I praise the Lord ; — when the rain de- 
scends in torrents, and the snow falls rapidly — 
when the thunders roll tremendously in the hea- 
vens — when the vivid lightning blazes from 
the clouds — and, in short, let the weather be 
what it will, I always praise the Lord ; and 
this is the reason why I have never seen an 
unhappy morning ! 

" In the second place, you wished that God 
might bestow upon me much joy. I replied to 
that, that I never had any sorrow, and that too 
is certainly true ; for I know how to confide in 
God, and I know too that every thing he does 
is right. Whatever, therefore, God suffers to 
befall me, be it sweet or bitter, joy or sorrow, 
adversity or prosperity, I consider it all for the 
best — all things shall work together for good 
to them that love God." 

Unjust resentment is always the fiercest. 


THE child's magazine. 21 


If our modern matrons would look with more 
intensity and^vith greater self-reliance on their 
own powers, and their own sources of happi- 
ness — if they would live with greater desires 
for the enlargement of and perfection of that 
holy nature of the soul which is oftentimes 
like an unopened bud, they would be like, not 
the renowned Roman matron Cornelia, but the 
latter of those ladies mentioned in the annexed 

Three Roman ladies being met, whereof 
Cornelia, great Scipio's daughter, was one, the 
other two were of Campania, but lived in Rome, 
there fell out a contest between them, which 
of them had and kept the rarest and richest 
jewels. The day was appointed to visit one 
another. Coming to the first, she showed her 
diamonds, carbuncles, gold bracelets, ear-rings, 
collars, and coronets of rubies and precious 
stones, set in gold, together with her rich and 
various attires and perfumes ; and these are all 
mine, says she. So coming to Cornelia's house 
she showed them her children at their books, 
with their schoolmaster, and here are mine, 
says she. But going from thence to the third 
lady, she showed them a large room full of poor 
men's children, while she kept her own in good 
order and industry ; and here you see mine ; I 
will not lose them nor change them, for all 
yours, said she : and the truth is, she deserved 
the praise and honour, for relieving so many 
poor orphans. — Hartford Pearl. 

22 THE child's magazine. 


London is one of the largest and ricliest cities 
in the world, occupying a surface of thirty-two 
square miles, thickly planted with houses, 
mostly three, four, and five stories high ; it 
contained, in 1831, a population of 1,471,941. 
It consists of London city, Westminster city, 
Finsbury, Marylebone, Tower Hamlets, South- 
wark, and Lambeth districts. In the year be- 
fore last there entered the port of London 3,786 
British ships, 1,280 foreign ships ; 2,669 were 
registered as belonging to it, with 32,786 seamen. 
The London docks cover 20 acres. The two 
West India docks cover 51 acres ; St. Catha- 
rine's dock covers 24 acres. There are gene- 
rally about 5,000 vessels and 3,000 boats in the 
river, employing 8,000 watermen and 4,000 
labourers. London pays about one-third of the 
window duty. In England the number of houses 
assessed are about 120,000, rated at upward of 
five millions sterling ; about one-third are not 
assessed. The house rents are probably seven 
or eight millions, including taverns, hotels, and 
public houses. The retailers of spirits and 
beer are upward of 10,000 ; while the dealers 
in the staff of life are somewhere about a fourth 
of this number. Numbering all the courts, 
alleys, streets, lanes, places, and rows, they 
amount to upward of 10,000. 

London Trades and Professions. — 4,700 pub- 
lic houses, 3,000 tailors, 2,800 boot and shoe 
makers, 2,500 attorneys, 2,000 bakers, 1,700 

THE child's magazine. 23 

butchers, 1,600 schools, 1,600 apothecaries, 
1,600 green grocers, 1,100 barristers, 1,000 
ciieesemongers, 1,000 coal merchants, 490 
pawnbrokers, 450 fishmongers, 400 confection- 
m%, and 250 physicians. 


Men stand in groups about the doors, and in 
the yards of the church, talking often about 
what they should not, gazing at every passing 
object, and plainly entertaining themselves in a 
manner unbecoming the Sabbath and the sanc- 
tuary. Such persons are unfitting themselves 
for the devotional exercises in which they are 
in a few moments to engage ; they embarrass 
others and injure the church where they attend. 
The modest female shrinks from their ungenteel 
gaze, and, perhaps, seeks to worship where she 
can have an unmolested entrance into the Lord's 
house. How much more becoming and profit- 
able, did such persons enter the sanctuary as 
they come to it, go each one reverently to his 
own seat, aiid there employ his moments 
before pubHc service in reading the Bible, in 
reflection and prayer — prayer for himself, for 
the minister, and for the whole congregation ! 
" Keep thy foot when thou goest to the house 
of God, and be more ready to hear than to give 
the sacrifice of fools, for they consider not that 
they, do evil." 


24 THE child's magazine, 


Perseverance is one of the surest ways of suc- 
cess in any thing that we may undertake. That 
man will never be rich who begins an employ- 
ment, but soon becomes discouraged, and so 
changes from one occupation to another, with- 
out continuing in any one long enough to give 
it a fair trial. The boy will never get his lesson, 
or become a wise man, who stops at every diffi- 
culty, in despair, instead of trying and per- 
severing, until he overcomes them all. Men 
have become great astronomers, painters, chy- 
mists, or whatever else they have been eminent 
in, by long, patient toil. They did not allow 
difficulties to discourage them. On the con- 
trary, the greater the difficulties, the more ear- 
nestly were they determined to keep at their 
work. It is because they have done hard 
things that they have become so celebrated ; 
and they learned to do them by trying and 

Youth should acquire this habit in the very 
beginning of their lives ; for it is a habit, and 
one that is easily gained. Make up your mind 
to study out the difficulties of your lessons, and 
when you have thought, and tried, and laboured, 
till you are ready to throw away your books, or 
paper, or slate with impatience, try it again, 
and if you do not accomplish it — try once more. 
The pleasure of doing things by ourselves, or 
finding out things by ourselves, is in proportion 
to the trouble they have given us. 

THE child's magazine. 25 

Apply this advice to your character as well 
as to your mind. Persevere in your resolutions 
to conquer bad habits, and to form good ones ; 
to avoid evil company, and to do that which is 
right ; to keep from sinful and silty words, and 
to speak the truth, and to say nothing that is 
not proper. In all your attempts to persevere 
in what is right, you should remember that God 
alone can make them successful, and therefore 
forget not to look to him, while you use the 
strength he gives you. With this understand- 
ing, let me advise you to learn the following 
lines, and to recollect them whenever you are 
disposed to give up in despair. 

'Tis a lesson you should heed, 

Try again, try again ; 
If at first you don't succeed, 
Try again, try again ; 
Then your courage should appear, 
For, if you will persevere. 
You will conquer, never fear — 
Try again, try again. 

Once, or twice, though you should fail, 

Try again, try again ; 
If you would at last prevail. 

Try again, tiy again ; 
If we strive, 'tis- no disgrace 
Though we may not win the race ; 
What should you do in the case ? 

Try again, try again. 

26 THE child's magazine, .^iv 

If you find your task is hard, 
Try again, try again ; 

Time will bring you your reward, 
Try again, try again ; 

All that other folks can do, 

Why, with patience, should not you? 

Only keep this rule in view. 
Try again, try again. 

Youth^s Friend. 


Norway. — The peasantry live on bread and 
gruel, both prepared of oat meal, with an occa- 
sional intermixture of dried fish. Meat is a 
luxury they rarely enjoy. 

Sweden. — The dress of the peasantry is pre- 
scribed by law. Their food consists of hard 
bread, fish, and gruel, without meat. 

Russia. — The nobles own all the land in the 
empire, and the peasantry who reside upon it 
are transferred with the estates. A great 
majority have only cottages, one portion of 
which is occupied by the family, while the 
other is appropriated to domestic animals. 
Few, if any, have beds, but sleep upon hard 
boards, or upon parts of immense stoves, by 
which their houses are warmed. Their food 
consists of black bread, cabbage, and other 
vegetables, without the addition of butter. 

Poland. — A recent traveller says, " I have 
travelled in every direction, and never saw a 

THE child's magazine 27 

wheaten loaf to the eastward of the Rhine, in 
any part of North Germany, Poland, or Den- 
mark." The common food of the peasantry of 
Poland — the " working men" — is cabbage and 
potatoes ; sometimes, but not generally, peas, 
black bread, and soup, or rather gruel, without 
the addition of butter or meat. 

Austria. — The nobles are the proprietors of 
the land, and the peasants are compelled to 
work for their masters during the day, except 

Hungary. — The nobles own the land, do not 
work, pay no taxes. The labouring classes are 
obliged to repair all highways and bridges, are 
iiable at all times to have soldiers quartered 
upon them, and are compelled to pay one-tenth 
of the produce of their labour to the church, and 
one-ninth to the lord whose land they occupy. 


Moral ballast that often prevents our cap- 
sizing. Where we have much to carry, God 
rarely fails to fit the back to the burden ; 
where we have nothing to bear, we can sel- 
dom bear ourselves. The burdened vessel 
may be slow in reaching the destined port; 
but the vessel without ballast becomes so 
completely the sport of the winds and waves, 
that there is danger of her reaching it at all. 

28 THE child's magazine. 


Elizabeth Queen was left by her mother, 
when only seven weeks old, to the care of an 
aged woman with whom she lodged, in the 
neighbourhood of Chatham. Instead of return- 
ing in an hour, as she promised, she was never 
again heard of. The poor woman became so 
attached to the helpless infant, that she de- 
termined not to part with her. At an early age 
she sent her to a Sunday school, because she 
could not afford to procure any other instruction 
for her. Elizabeth soon learned to read re- 
markably well, and, by the teaching of the Holy 
Spirit, was made wise unto salvation. 

When she was about thirteen years old she 
was seized with illness, and entirely lost her 
sight ; then, indeed, appeared the value of her 
instruction in the Sabbath school. It had been 
her delight to commit large portions of the Holy 
Scripture to memory, and never will those who 
visited her forget the interesting manner in 
which she used to repeat whole chapters. She 
had learned a great many psalms, several chap- 
ters in Isaiah and the New Testament; indeed, 
nearly, if not the whole, of the gospel of St. 
John. She said she had always learned those 
parts she had found most precious ; and she saw 
and acknowledged the goodness of God in thus 
disposing her, while she had her sight. She 
also delighted in repeating and singing hymns. 

When in health the aged woman had em- 
ployed herself in the fields to procure daily 

THE child's magazine. 29 

bread ; but now tbey were in great poverty, so 
much so that at length they were removed to 
the poor house. It was thought advisable to 
take her to London, and have an attempt made 
to restore her sight : the operation was per- 
formed, and she exclaimed with delight, " I can 
see ;" but darkness again returned. Her strength 
rapidly declined ; and, before her friends knew 
of her return to Chatham, her heavenly Friend 
removed her from the parish poor-house, to 
dwell in a mansion above, prepared for her by 
the Saviour whom she early sought and found. 
The poor woman who acted toward her a 
mother's part died soon after, at the age of 
eighty-four. * 


Many in this nation are rapidly becoming in- 
fidels, and why ? Not because infidelity makes 
Sabbath-breakers ; for men must first cast away 
all reverence for that day, before they can dis- 
believe the Bible, ridicule its truths, aud con- 
demn its author. All those who habitually 
trample on this institution must, from self- 
respect, or love of consistency, profess to dis- 
believe in the claims of those precepts which 
condemn them. . Therefore, having learned, 
by national sanction, and individual and state 
examples, to desecrate God's holy day, they fly 
to infidelity, in self-justification, waxing worse 
and worse ; and contaminating almost every 
thing that comes within their reach. 



Should it be asked, Who are becoming infi- 
dels ? the answer is ready — stagemen, boatmen, 
carmen, post-masters and their clerks, custom- 
house officers, toll-gatherers, forwarding mer- 
chants, innkeepers, their families and domestics, 
porters, barbers, milkmen, and others, who, by 
any means, or in any way, violate this day^ — 
they, to appear consistent, must say there is no 
law by which we are obliged to suspend our 
labour one-seventh part of the time. 


Among the. prairies of the west are frequently 
found large enclosures. A man owning many 
hundred acres of them, if a good, industrious, 
and wise manager, does his utmost to surround 
them all with a good and substantial fence ; 
such a one as shall ensure the protection of all 
his crops from any thing without it. And within 
this large enclosure are a number of smaller 
ones, all of which are guarded by a temporary 
fence, or something known to be insufficient 
against any thing without : but, under his watch 
and care, the animals within can be kept from 
destroying his crops. But his great dependance 
is upon the large fence. If this be broken down, 
all his hopes are gone, unless it can immediately 
be repaired. He knows too much to set him- 
self about guarding or repairing the smaller 
fences, to the neglect of 'the larger, but without 

THE child's magazine. 31 

delay clears his fields of all animals from 
without, and never rests mitil his principal de- 
pendance is made perfectly secure. 

Now apply this to the Sabbath, which, like 
the outward fence, is the safeguard against all 
encroachments upon the Christian religion. 
Your Bible, tract, missionary, and other bene- 
volent societies are like the insufficient fences 
within. Without the Sabbath all these socie- 
ties will unavoidably fail. Not one of them 
can be made of much use while the Sabbath is 
profaned. For a little time they may have the 
appearance of life, but their vitality cannot long 
be maintained. Imitate then the good and wise 
farmer alluded to, and fly to the rescue of the 
Sabbath ; and rest not until its wastes have 
been fully repaired, and every enemy to our re- 
ligion driven from within the sacred enclosure. 
But if you neglect to do this, be assured all 
your beloved objects will sink into as deep a 
grave as that which entombs the Sabbath. 


Born unto sorrow is each child of dust, 
The portion of the evil and the just. 
"While dwelling here, the diflference between 
The good and bad is not distinctly seen. 
Yet there 's a solace for the righteous here : 
His griefs will ever claim the good man's tear. 
His sorrows work the end for which they're 

And his affections lead from earth to heaven. 

32 THE child's magazine. 


" Let there he light P^ th' Eternal spoke, 
And from th' abyss where darkness rode, 

The earhest dawn of nature broke, 
And light around creation flow'd. 

The glad earth smiled to see the day. 
The first-born day, come blushing in 

The young day smiled to shed its ray 
Upon a world untouch'd by sin. 

" Let there be light !" O'er heaven and earth 
The God who first the day-beam pour'd, 

Whisper'd again his fiat forth. 

And shed the gospel's light abroad : 

And, like the dawn, its cheering rays 
On rich and poor were meant to fall, 

Inspiring their Redeemer's praise 
In lowly cot and lordly hall. 

Then come when in the orient first 
Flashes the signal light for prayer , 

Come with the earliest beams that burst 
From God's bright throne of glory there. 

Come, kneel to Him who through the night 
Hath watch'd above thy sleeping soul. 

To Him whose mercies, like his light, 
Are shed abroad from pole to pole. 

THE child's magazine. 33 


In a review of B.ucke on the " Beauties, 
Harmonies, and Sublimities of Nature," which 
is the first article in the Gentleman's Magazine 
for the present month, there is the following 
passage : — 

" All our readers not living north of Lincoln- 
shire, or west of Wiltshire, have heard the 
nightingale ; but none have ever read their 
written song in Mr. Bucke's work, which we 
give as a curiosity. It was made by a Ger- 
man composer on a bird esteemed as a capital 

Tiou, tiou, tiou, tiou. 

Spe, tiou, squa. 

Tio, tio, tio, tio, tio, tix. 

Coutio, coutio, coutio, coutio. 

Vol. XV.-^3 

34 THE child's magazine. 

Squo, squo, squo, squo. 

Tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu, tzu 

Corror^ tio, squa — pi pi qui. 

Zozozozozozozozozozo zozo — zeshaoling. 

Tsissi, tsissi si si si sisisis. 

Dzorre, dzorre, dzorre, dzorre, hi. 

Tzatu, tzatu, tzatu, tzatu, tzatu, tzatu, dzi. 

Dio, dio, dio, dio, dio, dio, dio, dio, dio. 

Quio tr, rrrrrrrr itz. 


Charles Augustus M'Calla died in the 
eleventh year of his age, beloved and lamented 
by all who knew him. This little boy. who, 
although not eleven years of age, was still far 
advanced in the experience of God's goodness 
and mercy to the perishing children of men. 
He was naturally endowed with strong intellect- 
ual powers, and employed them in frequently 
meditating on the plan of redeeming love — on 
the benevolence which induced the Saviour of 
sinners to leave his throne of light and glory to 
visit this dark world of wo, to rescue fallen man 
from his ruined condition. He was early led 
to attend the Sabbath school, by the example 
and precept of his parents ; and, as he grew in 
years, his attachment to the Sabbath school 
became stronger and stronger. It was a plea- 
sure to him to join in singing the hymns of 
praise and gratitude that arose from many a 

THE child's magazine. 35 

youthful bosom to the great Giver of every 
good and perfect gift ; and in offering up his 
infant petition to the throne of grace that God 
would bless the instruction imparted. In the 
class, as a general rule, he was very attentive 
to what was said, and his questions and answers 
clearly proved to his teacher that his mind was 
deeply exercised about eternal things. Nor 
was the Sabbath school the only place that 
afforded him pleasure — the sanctuary, the social 
prayer-meeting, and the Youths' Missionary 
Society, (of which he was a member,) were 
alike places he loved to visit. Indeed, wherever 
the people of God assembled for his worship, 
there he wished to be. After being deprived 
of the privilege of meeting in the Sabbath 
school and sanctuary by disease, he would oc- 
cupy his time, when his strength would permit, 
in reading religious works ; and among the 
many books which he read, the Bible was his 
favourite. From it he drew the promises on 
which he built his hope of being accepted of 
God, through the atonement of Jesus Christ. 
He was deeply sensible of the total depravity 
of the unsanctified heart, and sometimes he 
would be found with his cheeks bathed with 
tears. On being asked why he wept, he would 
reply, " O, my heart is so wicked !" Frequently 
has he desired his father to pray that God would 
" create in him a clean heart and a right spirit." 
At other times, his hope of heaven appeared 
firm and bright : his faith was strong and vigor- 
ous, and joy lit up his countenance. The most 

36 THE child's magazine. 

prominent feature in his illness, the one that 
shone most brilliant, was patience. During the 
most severe stages of his disease he manifested 
submission to the will of his heavenly Father. 
When asked if he would be willing to leave all 
he loved here, if it was God's will to remove 
him, he answered, " Yes." Often have I stood 
at his bedside, or looked at him as he lay in his 
mother's arms, and seen his wasted form racked 
with pains, and never did I hear him murmur 
or complain of his lot, but willingly waiting the 
time when God would bid him " come up higher." 
A short time previous to his death, as he lay on 
his mother's lap, the warm tear of parental love 
left her eye, and, as it fell upon his cheek, he 
raised himself up and told her not to weep. She 
said she could not help it, it Avas natural ; but 
if she Avas confident that he had made his peace 
with God, she would be satisfied to give him 
up. He replied, " I have — Jesus is precious." 
And in that sweet frame of mind he left this 
world of sin and sorrow, and the mouldering 
body of disease and pain, to receive his crown. 
In view of this dispensation of Providence, 
it becomes his survi^dng relatives and friends 
to be resigned, knowing that 

" God moves in a mysterious way 
His wonders to perform." 

We cannot now see why he was permitted 
to tarry with us so long — why the bond of af- 
fection was allowed to grow so strong but to be 

THE child's magazine. 37 

severed. But we shall know hereafter ; and 
we should be content, and rejoice, that God 
rules and reigns, and that " all things work to- 
gether for good to those that love God." 

Philadelphia paper. 


Tyndale was of a noble family, and was born 
at Nibley, Gloucestershire, England, about the 
year 1477. He was educated at Oxford, and 
was ordained as a Catholic priest in 1502. He 
became a truly pious man, and imbibed the 
principles of the Reformation. He soon at- 
tracted the attention and incurred the displea- 
sure of the Catholic clergy. One of them told 
him one day, " We had better be without God's 
laws than the pope's." Tyndale's indignation 
was roused by this impious declaration, and he 
replied, " I defy the pope and all his laws ; and 
if God give me hfe, ere many years the plough- 
boy shall know more of the Scriptures than 
you do." 

In pursuance of this resolution, he translated 
the New Testament into English, from the 
Greek, the version of Wickliffe, in 1520, having 
been made from the Vulgate. He was, how- 
ever, forced by persecution to leave England. 
He went to Germany in 1523, where Luther 
encouraged him to proceed in his design. In 
1525 or 1526 he printed the first edition at 
Worms or Wittemberg. Two copies only of 

38 THE child's magazine. 

this edition are known to exist. One of them, 
the best and most complete, is in the Hbrary of 
the Baptist Seminary, at Bristol, (England,) 
having been bequeathed to it by Dr. Gifford, the 
librarian of the British Museum. From this 
latter copy this new edition was printed. 

Great efforts were made in England to pre- 
vent the circulation of Tyndale's Testament. 
The bishop of London interdicted the sale and 
reading of it in his diocess, and he sent a sum 
of money to Germany to purchase all the copies 
which could be found. Tyndale himself sold 
the books to the bishop's agent, and employed 
the money in preparing a more correct edition. 
The books were publicly burned in England, 
but in vain ; for they increased rapidly in num- 
ber, were widely circulated, and eagerly read. 

Tyndale continued his labours at Antwerp, 
and elsewhere, on the continent. He published 
new editions of his Testament, translated a 
great part, if not the whole, of the Old Testa- 
ment, and wrote a number of books in defence 
of his principles. His popish enemies in Eng- 
land succeeded at length in arresting him. He 
was seized by their emissaries in Holland, and, 
after an imprisonment of nearly two years, he 
was strangled, and his body burned at the stake, 
at Vilvoord, near Brussels, in September, 1536. 
His last words were, " Lord, open the king of 
England's eyes!" The biographer adds: — 

" It rests on very tangible evidence, that his 
voice was hardly hushed in death, before his 
last prayer was answered. The king's vision 


became so clear as to issue an injunction, 
ordering that the Bible should be placed in 
every church, for the free use of the people. 
In this year (1536) were published seven or 
eight editions of the New Testament in 

The whole Bible, in English, was printed for 
the first time, in 1535, by Miles Coverdale. A 
part of it was the work of Tyndale. This 
venerable reformer and martyr deserves to be 
held in everlasting remembrance. His Testa- 
ment is the best monument. 

From the Sunday School Friend. 

Children are good hsteners as well as acute 
observers ; and we should therefore be careful 
in every conversation carried on in their pre- 
sence. Many a passing remark, forgotten as 
soon as uttered, by the person who spoke, and 
by those to whom it was addressed, has sunk 
deeply into the mind of childhood, and wrought 
an influence upon it, either for good or evil, 
little suspected. 

We were forcibly struck by the necessity of 
taking this heed to our words before chilcGren, 
by the following little incident. 

A week or two since, a gentleman, being in 
his son's store, found a few pictures among 
some waste paper. He put them into his 


40 THE child's magazine. 

pocket for his grand children, and, upon taking 
them out, at home, some one asked him if he 
bought them. " No," said he, jestingly, " I 
stole them." No notice then appeared to have 
been taken of it by the children ; but when one 
of them, not quite five years old, was going up 
stairs to bed, he said to his aunt, 

" Did'nt grandpa say he stole these pictures? 
It is not right to steal, is it ?" 

Upon the aunt's attempting to explain the 
sense in which the word was used, that his 
grandpa did not mean that he stole them — 

" Then," said the child, " grandpa told a 
story, aunt, did'nt he ?" 

Most of the inhabitants of Europe begin their 
hours of the day at noon, from whence they 
reckon twelve to midnight, and twelve more at 
noon again. The Italians begin the day at sun- 
set, and reckon twenty-four hours from thence 
to the following evening. The Turks begin 
their day at a quarter of an hour after sunset. 
The Jews, on the contrary, begin their day at 
sunset, from thence they reckon twelve equal 
hours to sunrise, and as many to sunset, con- 
sequently their hours of the day are longer and 
shorter than those of the night, in proportion to 
the length of the day and night. They also 
divide their days into four equal parts, called 
watches ; the first watch from six to nine o'clock, 
the second watch from nine to twelve o'clock. 



St. Paul, in all his writings, is remarkably 
clear and explicit in regard to the particular 
kind of behaviour which should characterize 
the life of Christians. There is one passage in 
his Epistle to the Ephesians, which struck me 
forcibly, and made an indelible impression on 
my mind when quite a youth, and has followed 
me up to manhood ; and has, doubtless, often 
checked my inclination to engage in " trifling 
mirth," when in the company of the thoughtless 
throng, surrounded by the gay and giddy multi- 
tude. The passage to which I refer is the one 
that follows ; and O ! listen to it ye vain and 
unthinking, ye unwary and unsuspecting. After 
warning the Ephesians in their intercourse not 
even to mention certain gross sins which were, 
and stiU are, prevalent in the world, he pro- 
ceeds to say, " Neither filthiness, nor foolish 
talking, nox jesting, which are not convenient." 
And throughout this whole epistle it seems to 
be St. Paul's chief aim and intention to impress 
upon the minds of those to whom he was 
writing, nof only the importance, but absolute in- 
dispensahleness of a strict, undeviating, and un- 
compromising adherence to that propriety of 
conduct, in word and action, which should mark 
the life of every follower of the meek and lowly 
Saviour, who was never seen to laugh, " but the 
whole world has frequently seen him weep." 

Here are some of St. Paul's expressions ; 
and they may serve as a test, by which pro- 

42 THE child's magazine. 

fessing Christians may try their words and 
actions, and thus know whether or not they 
live in accordance with the precepts of the gos- 
pel. Let none refuse to bring their conduct to 
the test, through fear of being " found wanting," 
for, unless we are acquainted with our disease, 
it is impossible to apply the proper remedy ; 
and we cannot deceive the " Physician of 
souls," although we may deceive ourselves. The 
apostle thus writes to the Ephesians : " Speak- 
ing the truth in love — walk not as other Gen- 
tiles walk, in the vanity of their mind — put off, 
concerning the former conversation, the old 
man — ^be ye angry and sin not — ^let no corrupt 
communication proceed out of your mouth — and 
evil speaking be put away from you, with all 
malice — ^have no fellowship with the unfruitful 
works of darkness, but rather reprove them ; for 
it is a shame even to speak of those things which 
are done in secret." 

The above quotations are, it appears to me, 
sufficient to convince all who are in search of 
truth, of the great impropriety and sinfulness of 
professing Christians who are guilty of ^^ foolish 
talking" or "jesting." — Sunday School Friend. 

Never apply twice for the same favour, un- 
less the circumstances of the case are changed. 
A second refusal is always more bitter than 
the first. 


From the Sabbath School Messenger. 

Said a gentleman in Boston who does not 
believe the Bible, to a, young Sabbath school 
teacher one day, not long since, 

" Do you know how Jesus Christ learned to 
work his pretended miracles ?" 

" I have no doubt they were real miracles," 
answered the youth ; " and that they were 
wrought by the mighty power of God." 

" Nonsense ! superstition !" said the gentle- 
man — " nothing but superstition. Why, he 
learned it of the Egyptian magicians. Do 
you not know that he spent all his early life 
in Egypt ?" 

" I know he was there a short time, when 
he was quite young," answered the teacher, 
" but not long." 

" You cannot prove," said the gentleman, 
" even from the Bible itself, that he did not live 
there till he was about thirty, except that he was 
at Jerusalem once, when he was about twelve 
years old." 

The youth drew his Bible from his pocket, 
and opened to the fourth chapter of Luke's 
gospel, at the sixteenth verse, and asked the 
gentleman to read it. 

" No," said he, " read it yourself, if you 
please ; I do not wish to take the trouble." 

So the youth proceeded to read as follows : 
" And he (that is Jesus) came to Nazareth, 

44 THE child's magazine. 

where he had been brought up; and as his cus- 
tom was, he went into the synagogue on the 
Sabbath day, and stood up for to read." 

" Well, what of that ?" said the gentleman, 
who did not perceive the drift of the passage, 
or else feigned ignorance ; "what do you make 
of that?" 

" Make of it ?" said the youth, " why, if he 
was brought up in Nazareth, he was not 
brought up in Egypt, surely." 

The gentleman turned on his heel, and went 
away. Thus it is with many cavillers at the 
Bible. They have never examined it for 
themselves. They take their arguments, many 
of them, at second hand. A mere boy, who 
is a thorough Bible student, can often foil 
them with their own weapons. 


" Now Jane, you had better get up, you can*t 
sleep," said a little girl to her sister who had 
got into bed without praying— and she added, 
" I have done so, and I found I could not sleep, 
until I had got up and said my prayers on my 
knees." And it was so with little Mary, she 
thought it would do as well as if she said her 
prayers after she was in bed, but she could not 
sleep — something troubled her and kept her 
uneasy until she had risen and fallen on her 
knees by her bedside and prayed. And how 
cpuld she expect to feel comfortable and go to 

THE child's magazine. 45 

sleep sweetly, when she had neglected her 
duty or thought of doing it lazily? And how 
could she expect to have God's blessings 
through the night when she treated him so 
unkindly? Little children as well as grown 
persons depend altogether on God ; it is he who 
keeps the breath in our bodies while we sleep, 
who preserves us from all harm, and who 
awakens us in the morning. What an awful 
thing would it be, for any persons, either large 
or small, to sleep away their lives and find them- 
selves in eternity without having prayed? What 
a dreadful night would that prove to such? And 
should not every one who goes prayerlessly to 
bed fear that this may be the case with him ? 
should he not fear that God is angry with him 
and should say, " This night shall thy soul be 
required of thee ?" My dear children, have you 
never been troubled when you went to bed with- 
out prayer, and found it difficult to get to sleep ? 
What was this ? why conscience in your heart 
disturbing you, seeking to raise you to your 
duty. Beware how you trifle with conscience 
— beware how you trifle with God, whose voice 
within you conscience is. God commands us 
to pray — and how much do all who love God 
love to pray ? It is delightful to see children 
growing up with a love for prayer. We may 
expect good things of such children. God will 
take care of them and make them his dear chil- 
dren. My little reader, will you forget to pray 
to God to-night — will you pray every night? 
Let us see ? — Christian Intelligencer. 

46 THE child's magazine. 


1. Never violate your pledge. 

2. Keep away from public houses which sell 
intoxicating drinks, and from all dram-shops. 

3. Discountenance all the causes and prac- 
tices of intemperance. ^ 

4. Endeavour to make your family temperate. 

5. Take and read some temperance paper. 

6. Be punctual at temperance meetings. 

7. Be generous in circulating temperance 
tracts and papers. 

8. Boldly advocate the temperance cause on 
all suitable occasions. 

9. Patronize temperance grocers, taverns, 
and labourers. 

10. Exercise charity to your fellow-mem- 

11. Never fail to remember the temperance 
cause at the throne of grace. 

Temperance Journal. 


A clergyman whose congregation pride them- 
selves in being intellectual has been known to 
say that he has repeated a discourse within one 
year after its first delivery, and not a person 
among his hearers has been conscious of ever 
having heard it before ! 

'' The truth so intellectually embraced, 
Soon lost its credit, and was all effaced !" 

THE child's magazine. 47 



I heard the forests as they cried 

Unto the valleys green, 
" Where is that red-brow'd hunter-race 

Who loved our leafy screen ? 
They humbled 'mid those dewy glades 

The red deer's antler'd crown, 
Or soaring at its highest noon 

Struck the strong eagle down." 

Then in the zephyr's voice replied 

Those vales so meekly blest : 
" They rear'd their dwelMngs on our side, 

Their corn upon our breast ; 
A blight came down, a blast swept by, 

The cone-roof 'd cabins fell. 
And where that exiled people fled 

It is not ours to tell." 

Niagara of the mountains gray 

Demanded from his throne, 
And old Ontario's billowy lake 

Prolong'd the thunder tone, 
" Those chieftains at our side who stood 

Upon our christ'ning day, 
Who gave the glorious names we bear, 

Our sponsors — where are they ?" 

And then the fair Ohio charged 

Her many sisters dear, 
" Show me, once more, those stately forms, 

Within my mirror clear ;" 

48 THE child's magazine. 

But they replied, " Tall barks of pride 

Do chase our waters blue, 
And strange keels ride our farthest tide, 

But where's their light canoe ?" 

The farmer drove his ploughshare deep — 

" Whose bones are these ?" said he ; 
" I find them where my browsing sheep 

Roam o'er the upland lea ;" 
But startling sudden to his path 

A phantom seem'd to glide, 
A plume of feathers on his head, 

A quiver at his side. 

He pointed to the rifled grave, 

Then raised his hand on high, 
And with a hollow groan invoked 

The vengeance of the sky ; 
O'er the broad realm, so long his own, 

Gazed with despairing ray. 
Then on the mist that slowly curl'd 

Fled mournfully away. 


The hinges in the wings of an earwig, and 
the joints of its antennae, are as highly wrought 
as if the Creator had nothing else to finish ; we 
see no signs of diminution of care by multipli- 
city of objects, or of distraction of thought by 
variety. We have no reason to fear, therefore, 
our being forgotten, or overlooked, or neglected. 




The least reflection on the products of the 
different parts of the globe compels us to admire 
the goodness of that Providence which, in each 
climate, has regulated its bounties according to 
the wants of its inhabitants. In the burning 
regions of the tropics, the animals destined for 
the subsistence of man are few in number, and 

Vol. XV— 4 

50 THE ^hild's magazine. 

their flesh is of a very inferior quaUty to that 
of the same species in the temperate zones. 
Belzoni relates that, in the country which ex- 
tends between the Nile and the Red Sea, the 
weight of a sheep does not exceed fifteen 
pounds. All who have paid attention to this 
subject know the pernicious effects of a too 
great indulgence in animal food in these hot 
climates ; and it is doubtless for this reason 
that Providence has not permitted such nutri- 
ment to be abundant there. 

The different species of grains distributed 
over the face of the earth follow the same law ; 
a truth of which the subject of this article is an 
example. Rice, by its natural dryness, is less 
liable to fermentation than either wheat or bar- 
ley, and therefore an aliment more suitable to 
hot countries. The same may be said of Indian 
corn, the qualities of which bear some similarity 
to those of rice. The culture of this grain oc- 
cupies a large part of the population of the 
east, especially in India, China, Sumatra, and 
the neighbouring isles ; at the Philippines, also, 
rice is extensively cultivated. Rice grows 
abundantly in Egypt, Spain, and parts of Italy. 
In America it is an important product of some 
of the southern states. 

The nianner of cultivating rice varies accord- 
ing to climate and local circumstances. We 
shall give the details of the method employed 
in China, where vast tracts of land, in the mid- 
dle and south of that great empire, are devoted 
to the culture of rice. Each year, the low 

THE child's magazine. 51 

lands are overflowed by the Kiang and the 
Yellow River, when those streams are swollen 
by the abundant rains of the Hilmalaya Moun- 
tains, where they have their source. When 
the waters abate, they leave a thick bed of mud, 
which fertilizes the soil as much as the best 
manure. The patient and laborious Chinese 
begins his toil by surrounding the tracts which 
he intends to cultivate with raised banks 
of clayey earth. It is necessary that the rice- 
field should be in the neighbourhood of a rivulet. 
The earth is then harrowed several times over, 
and while it is undergoing this process, the 
seed-rice is macerated in water, mixed with a 
certain quantity of marl. The growth is thereby 
quickened to such a degree, that the young 
shoots sprout above the soil in two days after 
they have been deposited there.- — Am. Mag. 


There are two modes of estabUshing our repu- 
tation ; to be praised by honest men, and to be 
abused by rogues. It is best, however, to se- 
cure the former, because it will be invariably 
accompanied by the latter. His calumniation 
is not only the greatest benefit a rogue can 
confer upon us, but is also the only service he 
wiU perform for nothing. — Lacon. 

Drunken porters keep open gates. 



Genius of any kind, or in any age, is a being 
of an extremely tender and susceptible nature ; 
its strength, temper, and dimensions depend 
much on external accidents ; it may be stifled in 
its birth, enervated in its nonage, or curtailed of 
its fair proportions by defect of education ; it has 
no irresistible tendency toward maturity, it has 
an indefeisible claim upon immortality. Whe- 
ther itself shall be consummate, or its creations 
everlasting, rests upon other causes besides the 
power of its own physical essence. It is not 
merely a tree, the fruits of which maybe sweet 
or sour, according to the measure of its cultiva- 
tion ; it is also not unfrequently a flower, which 
dies or blooms as it is visited with light, or 
fostered by dews and gales from heaven. — 
H. N. Coleridge. 


A good newspaper taken in a family seems 
to shed a gleam of intelligence around. It 
gives the children a taste for reading — it com- 
municates all the important events that are 
passing in the busy world — it is a never-failing 
source of amusement — and furnishes a fund of 
instruction that will never be exhausted. Every 
family, however poor, if they wish to hold a 
place in the ranks of intelligent beings, should 
take at least one newspaper. And the man 

THE child's magazine. 53 

who, possessed of property sufficient to make 
himself easy for life, and surrounded with chil- 
dren eager for knowledge, is instigated by the 
vile spirit of cupidity, and neglects to subscribe 
to a newspaper, is deficient in the duties of a 
parent or a good citizen, and is deserving ~of 
censure from his intelligent neighbours. 


To render the family state what it should be, 
pains must be taken, constant and unwearied, 
by the heads of the family, to make, it the 
scene not only of subordination and good order, 
but of improvement in interesting, useful know- 
ledge, and of rational, innocent enjoyment. 
Home, to be an attractive spot to the buoyancy 
and cheerful vivacity of youth, must be made 
pleasant and delightful. It must have a hal- 
lowed charm shed over it, so that, even amid 
the novelties and fascinations of the fresh, and 
fair, and beautiful world around him, the son, 
the clerk, the apprentice, may turn to it at all 
hours with fond anticipation of its quiet joys. 
Are effectual means used by parents and heads 
of families to make it so 1 

He who teaches religion without exemphfy- 
ing it loses the advantage of its best argument. 

54 THE child's magazine. 


That the rook is the benefactor of mankind 
is now pretty generally known, and to the rook 
must be added the starling. The great useful- 
ness of this bird is well known in some quar- 
ters, and the husbandman is not wise who 
pennits rooks and starlings to be wantonly 
killed. We are under very great obligations 
to both these kinds of birds ; and though the 
rook may sometimes take a few grains of corn, 
and the starling occasionally invite himself to a 
little fruit, yet their public services, in freeing 
the ground from vermin, which would, in spite 
of the efforts of man, go on increasing in 
numbers, till famine would be the result, do 
entitle these pretty creatures to the kindest 
treatment. Let the farmer content himself with 
employing children to frighten away their 
friends when the seed is newly sown, or when 
the crop is approaching to maturity, but let the 
lives of the rook and starling be religiously 
spared. — London paper. 

[The sparrow and the robin of this country 
serve the same purpose, and are the husband- 
man's best friends ; yet with what wantonness 
and cruelty are they destroyed by those brave 
huntsmen who think they have performed an 
exploit when they have shot one of these little 
harmless creatures.] 

THE child's magazine. 55 


When I was a child, I knew an old gray- 
headed man. Age had given him wisdom, and 
I loved him, for he was kind as well as wise. 
Once he said to me, " I know a way to be 

" Who taught it you ?" I inquired. 

And he answered, " I learned it in the fields." 

Then I drew near and entreated him to teach 
it also to me. But he replied, 

" Go forth into the fields, among the living 
things and learn it for thyself." 

So I went forth and looked attentively upon 
all that was moving around. But no voice 
spoke to me. Then I turned to the gray-headed 
man. And when he asked, " What hast thou 
seen in the fields ?" I answered : 

" I saw the brooks flowing on among sweet 
flowers. It seemed to sing a merry song. I 
listened, but there were no words to the music. 
The sparrow flew by me with down in her 
beak, wherewith to hne her nest, and the red- 
breast, with a crumb she had gathered at the 
door to feed her chirping young. The duck- 
hngs swam beside their mother in the clear 
stream, and the hen drew her chickens under 
her wings and screamed at the soaring hawk. 
The spider threw out her many threads like 
lines of silver, and fastening them from spray to 
spray, ran lightly on the bridge made from her 
own body. The snail put his horrid head 

56 THE child's magazine. 

through the door of his shell, and drew it sud- 
denly back. The ant carried a grain of corn 
in her pincers, and the loaded bee hastened to 
her hive, like a labourer to his cottage. The 
dog came forth and guarded the young lambs, 
frisking fearlessly by the side of their serious 
mother, who cropped the tender grass. All 
seemed full of happiness. I asked them how 
I also should be happy. But they made no 
reply. Again and again I asked, 'Who will 
teach me to be happy V Yet nothing answered, 
save the echo ever repeating my last words, 
' happy — happy,' but not to tell me how to be- 
come so." 

" Hast thou looked upon . all these, young 
man," said the aged, " yet received no instruc,- 
tion 1 Did not the brook tell thee that it might 
not stay t6 be idle, that it must be in haste to 
meet the river and go with that to the ocean, to 
do the bidding of the ocean's king, and that it 
had pleasure by the way, in refreshing the trees 
that stretched their roots to meet it, and in 
giving drink to the flowers that bowed down 
to its face with a kiss of gratitude ! Thou 
didst see the birds building their nests, or flying 
with food to their little ones ; and couldst thou 
not perceive that to make others happy is hap- 
piness 1 The young duck gave diligence to 
learn of its mother the true use of its oary feet, 
and how to balance its body aright in the deep 
water; and the chickens obeyed the warning 
to hide under the broad wing, though it knew 
not the cruelty of the foe from which it fled. 

THE child's magazine. 57 

And did they not bid thee seek with the same 
obedience the lessons of thy mother, who every 
day teacheth thee, and every night lifts up her 
prayer that thy soul may avoid the destroyer, 
and hve for ever ? When the spider's silken 
bower was swept away, and she began another 
without ill temper or complaint, and the snail 
wilhngly put forth all her strength to carry her 
house upon her back, and the ant toiled with 
her load of corn to her winter store-house, and 
the bee wasted not the smallest drop of sweet- 
ness that could be found in the honey cups — 
came there no voice to thee from their example 
of patience, prudence, and wisdom ? Thou 
didst admire the shepherd's dog, minding so 
readily the word of his master, but fail to un- 
derstand that faithful continuance in duty is 
happiness. From all these teachers of the 
field, came there no precept unto thee? When 
they all spake with different voices, wert thou 
deaf to their instruction ? Each in his own 
language told thee that industry was happiness, 
and that idleness was an offence both in nature 
and to her God." 

Then I bowed dowTi my head, and my cheek 
was crimsoned with shame, because I had not 
understood the lessons of the fields, and was 
ignorant of what even birds and insects know. 
But the man with hoary hairs smiled on me 
and comforted me. So I thanked him for the 
good teachings of his wisdom. And I took 
his precept into my heart, that I might weigh it 
and see if it w^ere true. And though I was 

58 THE child's magazine. 

then young and am now old, I have never had 
reason to doubt that industry is happiness. 

L. H. S. 

From the Christian Watchman. 

On casting my eye over the piece headed 
" Truth and Fiction" in your paper of the 18th 
ultimo, it brought immediately to my recollec- 
tion the impression made on my mind, when 
quite young, by commencing, for the first time, 
the reading of a novel. I had proceeded to read 
the book until my feelings were deeply inte- 
rested in the subject, and my curiosity much 
excited to know what would be the end of the 
story. Perhaps I had got half through the 
book, and was obliged to lay it by until a proper 
time to finish it. In the meantime, as my ex- 
citement began to abate, my mind became re- 
stored to its natural equilibrium. Left to cool 
reflection, I was led to reason thus with myself: 
" How foolish I am to get so excited with this 
story, which is not founded on fact !" This was 
the first impression made on my mind, and it 
was so deep and lasting that the book was 
never finished, nor have I ever read a novel 
since. I mention this to show that the mind 
of a child, in its first openings, naturally seeks 
for the truth, or things real, and will not be 
satisfied with any thing short of it. If ever the 
child loves fiction, or untruth, it is because he 

THE child's magazine. 59 

learns it from others ; and not because he has 
any natural relish or desire for it. 

How often is it the case that when a parent 
presents a book to his child, the voluntary, 
honest, and simple question is asked, " But, father, 
is it a made-up story ? If it is, I shan't like it." 
Teachers should be able to say to the scholars 
that the book is true ; then it will be read with 
deep interest, and have a good impression on 
the mind, which will not be easily forgotten. 
Truth is immutable like its divine Author, and 
will abide and prevail, while falsehood and fic- 
tion will pass away or leave a bad impression. 


, Mr. Buckingham gives it as his opinion that 
there are not less than one hundred millions of 
mummies entombed in Egypt; and he describes 
three singular uses that are now made of them. 
For fuel. The peasantry of Egypt procure 
them, break them in pieces, and use them for 
fuel — and as they have little or no wood, those 
dried human bodies serve them in its stead. 
The resinous matter and spices which were 
used in embalming them, render them quite 
inflammable, and the odour which is given out 
at the period of burning is said to be quite de- 

For medical purposes. In most of the bodies 
there are found solid portions of the bitumen, or 
resinous drug, which was used in embalming. 


60 THE child's magazine. 

This is taken out of the bodies and sold in large 
quantities to merchants at Cairo, and from 
thence it is sent to Portugal, Italy, France, and 
England even, where it is pulverized by the 
apothecaries, done up in small papers, and sold 
as a most excellent drug to cure inward bruises. 
And for this purpose hundreds of pounds of this 
stuff is eaten every year, taken from the inside 
of Egyptian mummies. 

The other use made of them is, for painting. 
A celebrated painter in London informed Mr. 
Buckingham that the back bone of an Egyptian 
mummy, when it was ground sufficiently fine, 
made the most excellent brown colour of any 
material known. 

Among the ancient Egyptians the practice of 
embalming was universal. And Moses informs 
us, that Jacob and Joseph were embalmed, ac- 
cording to the ancient custom. For its preva- 
lence among the ancient Egyptians Mr. Buck- 
ingham gives the following reason : — 

They believed in the transmigration of the 
soul : and that after the soul left the body and 
had finished its transmigration, that is, after it 
had lived in the bodies of the cat, dog, monkey, 
ox, or what not, at the end of three thousand 
years it would return and re-occupy its first 
body, provided it should be found in a suitable 
state of preservation. And to preserve the body, 
so that it might be a fit receptacle for the soul 
at the end of three thousand years, it was em- 
balmed and stowed away in the large subter- 
raneous vaults which abounded in that country. 

THE child's magazine. 61 


Pride is a common and fashionable vice ; 
instilled into childhood, nurtured in youth, and 
matured in age. There are various ways in 
which it is manifested in individuals : — some in 
authority — in power ; and others in dress. The 
child is proud with some trifling object ; the 
hero, in the achievement of some splendid vie- 
tory ; the politician, when his party gains the 
ascendancy ; the ambitious and aspiring, when 
successful in their enterprises. 

How many have been ruined by pride ! — 
ostentatious display ; superfluity of dress ; arro- 
gance of manners ; distortion of the human sys- 
tem — to conform to the alamode of the day. 

Kings have been lifted up by pride to their 
own destruction ; princes have been crushed 
by its unhallowed car ; the rich are made poor 
by it, and the poor made poorer ; the wise are 
not honoured, and the foolish are disgraced 
by it. On the high mountains of pride but little 
grows, while in the valley of humiliation every 
virtue blossoms and never to fade. The high 
are liable to fall, while the lowly may be ex- 
alted. " Pride," said an early writer, " is the 
never-failing vice of fools." Pride is an empty 
bubble, likely every moment to burst ; it is like 
a vessel with all sail and no ballast. " It costs 
us more for pride," said President Jeflerson, 
" than it does for meat and drink." To be humble, 
is a virtue — to be proud, is a sin. Men of worth 
are seldom proud. . J. A. 

62 THE child's magazine. 

From the Sabbath School Messenger 

The spring is here, with its warbling throng, 

And the robin is on the tree ; 
Through grove and garden he speeds along, 
He comes with a song, — he comes with a song, 
And he 'U be a neighbour to thee. 

See, that is his mate by his side, I ween. 

And who are so happy as they ? 
Their chamber is shaded with curtains green, 
Three little blue eggs in its bed are seen. 

And their rent with a song they '11 pay. 

She broods o'er the nest, while his wing is 

Wherever her food may be found ; 
'Tis to her that he hastes with that morsel of 

bread : — 
The shot of the fowler ! — alas, he is dead ! 
He lies bleeding on the ground. 

And all day long that widow'd bird 

For her partner call'd in vain, — 
At midnight, the rustling branches stirr'd. 
And she thought 'twas his well-known wing she 

But he never return'd again. 

Half famish'd, she sped, in her deep despair, 

To search for a crumb, or seed. 
When a truant boy, with a reckless air, 
Climb'd up to her nest, — but I cannot bear 
To tell of his cruel deed. 

THE child's magazine. 63 

She hasted back, but what met her view, 

As she soar'd with an eager eye ? 
Her home was wreck'd, and its treasures too, 
And round and round, in her anguish she flew, 
With a loud and frantic cry. 

And so, through many a summer's day. 

Her piercing wail was heard, — 
Till once, near that desolate nest, there lay 
A poor, dead robin, as cold as clay. 

And I knew 'twas that mourner-bird. 

Then I thought of the boy who had rifled the nest, 

How bitter his tears must flow, 
When conscience should wake in his sinful 

And trouble his dream and break his rest. 
With the cry of that robin's wo. 

Mrs. Sigourney. 


There is a flower, a holy one, 

That blossoms on my path. 
No need of dew or daily sun. 

Or falling showers it hath ; 
It blooms as brightly in the storm 

As on the cloudless day, 
And rears unharm'd its humble form 

When others fade away. 

That plant is Faith ; its holy leaves 

Reviving odors shed 
Upon the lowly place of grief, 

Or mansions of the dead. 

64 THE child's magazine. 

Grod is its sun : his living light 
In happy hours he lends, 

And silently in sorrow's night 
Religion's dew descends. 

Plant of my soul, be fading things 

By other hands caress'd. 
But through life's weary wanderings, 

I '11 bear thee to my breast ; 
And when the icy powers shall chill 

The fountains of my breath. 
Thy loveliness shall cheer me still, 

E'en in the hour of death. 


When courting slumber, 
The hours I number, 
And sad cares cumber, 

My wearied mind ; 
This thought shall cheer me, 
That thou art near me. 
Whose ear to hear me 

Is still inclined. 

My soul thou keepest, 
Who never sleepest. 
Mid gloom the deepest. 

There's light above. 
Thine eyes behold me ; 
Thine arms enfold me ; 
Thy word has told me 

That " God is lover 

THE child's magazine. 65 

From Wellsted's Travels in Persia. 

" The pearl bank extends from Sharja to 
Biddulph's Group. The bottom is of shelly 
sand and broken coral, and the depths vary from 
five to fifteen fathoms. The right of fishing on 
the bank is common, but altercations between 
rival tribes are not unfrequent. Should the 
presence of a vessel of war prevent them from 
settling these disputes on the spot, ihey are ge- 
nerally decided on the islands where they land 
to open their oysters. In order to check such 
quarrels, which, if permitted, would lead tc 
general confusion, two government vessels are 
usually cruising on the bank. 

Their boats are of various sizes, and of vari- 
ous construction, averaging from ten to fifty 
tons. During one season it is computed that 
the Island of Bahrein furnishes, of all sizes, 
three thousand five hundred ; the Persian 
coast, one hundred ; and the space between 

Vol. XV.— 5 

66 THE child's magazine. 

Bahrein and the entrance to the gulf, including 
the Pirate coast, seven hundred. The value 
of the pearls obtained at these several ports is 
estimated at forty lacks of dollars, or four hun- 
dred thousand pounds. 

Their boats carry a crew varying from eight 
to forty men, and the number of mariners thus 
employed at the height of the season is rather 
above thirty thousand. None receive any defi- 
nite wages, but each has a share of the profits 
on the whole. A small tax is also levied on 
each boat by the sheikh of the port to which it 
belongs. During this period they live on dates 
and fish, of which the latter are numerous and 
good, and to such meagre diet our small pre- 
sents of rice were a most welcome addition. 
Where polypi abound, they envelope themselves 
in a white garment ; but in general, with the 
exception of a cloth around their waist, they are 
perfectly naked. When about to proceed to 
business, they divide themselves into two par- 
ties, one of which remains in the boat to haul 
up the others who are engaged in diving. The 
latter, having provided themselves with a small 
basket, jump overboard, and place their feet on 
the stone, to which a line is attached. Upon a 
given signal, this is let go, and they sink with 
it to the bottom. When the oysters are thickly 
clustered, eight or ten may be procured at each 
descent, the line is then jerked, and the persons 
stationed in the boat haul the diver up with as 
much rapidity as possible. The period during 
which they can remain under water has been 

THE child's magazine. 67 

much overrated ; one minute is the average, 
and I never knew them, but on one occasion, to 
exceed a minute and a half. 

Accidents do not very frequently occur from 
sharks, but the sawfish (the Antiguorum of Lin- 
naeus) is much dreaded. Instances were related 
to me where the divers had been completely 
cut in two by these monsters, which attain, in 
the Persian Gulf, a far larger size than in any 
other part of the world where I have met with 
them. As the character of the fish may not be 
familiar to the general reader, I will add a few 
words in the way of description. They are of 
an oblong rounded form, their head being some- 
what flattened from the fore part, and tapering 
more abruptly toward the tail. They usually 
measure from thirteen to fifteen feet in length, 
being covered with a coriaceous skin, of a dark 
colour above, but white beneath. The terrific 
weapon from whence they derive their name 
is a flat projecting snout, six feet in length, four 
inches in breadth, armed on either side with 
spines resembling the teeth of a shark. 

Diving is considered very detrimental to 
health, and without doubt it shortens the life of 
those who much practise it. In order to aid 
the retention of the breath, the diver places a 
piece of elastic horn over his nostrils, which 
binds them closely together. He does not enter 
the boat each time he rises to the surface, ropes 
being attached to the side, to which he clings, 
until he has obtained breath for another attempt. 
As soon as the fishermen have filled their boats, 

68 THE child's magazine. 

they proceed to some of the islands with which 
the bank is studded, and there, with masts, oars, 
and sails, construct tents. They estimate the 
unopened oysters at two dollars a hundred." 

From the Sabbath School Messenger. 
THE fisherman's BOY. 

On the border of a sea-port town in England, 
near a cold and blustering shore, stood a small, 
low, yet comfortable cottage, in which lived a 
poor but honest fisherman. He had a number 
of children, and among them was a little boy 
named George, who was a scholar in the Me- 
thodist Sunday school. 

Little George was only about ten years old, 
but his father being poor, he was obliged to go 
with him and assist him in fishing. This was 
very hard for so small a boy, as they had to g6 
out early in the morning, when it was some- 
times extremely cold ; and poor George often 
trembled and shivered as he sat in the boat and 
blew his benumbed fingers to keep them from 
freezing. But he loved his parents and his 
brothers and sisters, and was willing to suffer a 
little pain, that he might assist in earning money 
for their support. This was right, and thus far 
George was a good boy. 

But children have other duties besides loving 
their parents. They ought to keep the Sabbath; 
study their lessons ; love their teachers ; refrain 

THE child's magazine. 69 

from all naughty practices, such as stealing, 
telling lies, quarrelling, or calling bad names. 
No boy can be truly good who does not attend 
to all these things. 

George seemed to forget this, for he some- 
times said wicked words, often quarrelled with 
his playmates, and even at Sabbath school was 
veiy idle. 

As you may suppose, his teachers were very 
sorry to see these things, and they used to talk 
to him, and pray that he might become good ; 
but it all seemed in vain, for he grew worse 
and worse, so much so, that they thought of 
turning him out of the school, lest he should 
make the other boys as bad as himself; for 
they knew that 

" One sickly sheep infects the flock, 
And poisons all the rest." 

Perhaps my dear young readers wonder how 
it could be that George could love his parents, 
and yet be so wicked in other respects. But 
they will not wonder so much, when I tell 
them, that he was not favoured with pious 
parents ; they did not care about religion, and 
it is said that his father sometimes used profane 

One Sabbath day, one of the teachers ad- 
dressed the children upon the sufierings and 
death of the blessed Jesus. He told them of 
his being a little babe, cradled in the manger at 
Bethlehem, of his painful hfe, and cruel death 
on the cross, and also that all this was endured 

70 THE child's magazine. 

that little boys and girls might be saved from 
sin and made happy in heaven. George was 
much affected by this address ; he wept much, 
and, on leaving the school, was uncommonly 
quiet and orderly. 

He now became an altered boy. He left off 
swearing and quarrelling ; he was no more idle 
George, but behaved himself so well that every 
body admired and loved him. 

One morning, his father having called him 
up very early, and he not being ready as quick 
as usual, his father went up stairs to his cham- 
ber, supposing him not to have heard his call. 
As he came to the door, he heard a low mur- 
muring, and, on listening, he found that his 
little son was earnestly praying for his parents, 
brothers and sisters, and for his schoolmates 
and teachers. Ashamed of himself, this prayer- 
less father retired. How severely must he 
have felt reproved. So you see, my little 
readers, how it was George became so good. 
He learned to pray, and praying boys are 
always good. 

It happened one morning that he was ^sent to 
moor his father's boat, when, falling overboard, 
he was unfortunately drowned. No doubt his 
soul went* to Jesus, for he loves all praying 
children. He was buried soon after, when a 
large number of Sunday school scholars attend- 
ed the funeral, and a great many tears were 
shed over his grave ; for all the scholars loved 
him very much. 

If any of the readers of the Messenger are 

THE child's magazine. 71 

wicked and idle, I hope they will do as George 
did. O let them begin to repent, let them pray, 
and, like him, they will become good and happy, 
and, when they die, their souls will be admitted 
into heaven, to dwell with Jesus and to become 
kings and priests unto God for ever D. W. 
Hingham, Mass., May 9, 1838. 


The following remarks of the editor of the 
Southern (Columbus, Miss.) Argus, apply, we 
are sorry to say, to our own city : — 

" In passing through one of our streets a few 
days since, our attention was arrested by two 
little boys, one apparently about ten, and the 
other about eight years of age, who were 
playing together, but who, it seems, could not 
utter a sentence without accompanying it with 
an oath that would do credit to a West India 
pirate. We were surprised that children so 
young should have thus early learned to take 
their Maker's name in vain, and to use so 
adroitly so large a number of vulgar and pro- 
fane exclamations. Our surprise, however, 
was lessened, when it occurred to us that so 
many ' children of a larger growth' in our city, 
daily — nay, hourly set them the example, and 
that even in some of our public prints — the oaths 
of political opponents, in all their unblushing 
depravity, are printed, letter for letter, for poll- 

72 THE child's magazine. 

tical purposes. Children hear oaths and pro- 
fanity from those they are taught to look up to 
as being high and respectable in society, and 
so ardent are their aspirations to become men, 
that they imitate the very errors of those whose 
virtues only they should copy : and seeing em- 
blazed in public prints the most profane oaths, 
they soon begin to think that it is all right to 
' curse,' and that they never can become men 
until they are expert in this disgraceful vice. 
If the rising generation is thus taught, what will 
our country become in a few years ? How 
important then is it that parents who are in the 
habit of using profanity should deny themselves 
the privilege of indulging in it, and that those 
who are not addicted to the vice should exhibit 
it to their children in all the horror of its wick- 
edness ; — and how careful should the conduct^ 
ors of the public press be to exclude even the 
abbreviation of a profane oath from their 

From the Sabbath School Messenger. 
THE wanderer's RETURN. 

It was one summer evening of 1833, that a 
cautious step upon the floor of my study made 
me aware of the presence of a visitant, who 
had entered, unperceived, while I was immersed 
in a page of Bridge's Conic Sections. The 
result of my first hasty glance was any thing 
but complimentary to the stranger. His coat 
was a thing of mere shreds and patches ; and 

THE child's magazine. 73 

his youthful features were deeply marked with 
the traces of dissipation ; but there was still in 
his demeanor, in his anxious but subdued ex- 
pression, something which stirred my sympa- 
thies, and seemed to say, like those Greeks in 
sacred story, " Sir, I would see Jesus." 

" I have seen you once before," he began, 
" and I have felt that I must come and tell you 
my story. Yesterday, for the first time after 
an absence of more than three years, I touched 
this, my native shore." 

" You have friends, then, in the city " 

" Not one, sir ; every face is a stranger's. 
My father has been dead many years ; but I 
have a mother and three younger brothers still 
living, I hope, in a neighbouring state. My 
mother used to pray and go to the class meet- 
ings, and the preachers would sometimes visit 
our cottage home ; but I chose the company of 
wicked boys like myself. Instigated by these, 
one night, while all those who ever loved me 
were sleeping sweetly, I stole away to a ship 
bound for the South Seas — I need not tell you 
what a miserable life I have since led. If it be 
in suffering and remorse to atone for ingratitude 
and folly, surely I have made ample amends 
for mine. These rags, this crippled arm, and 
these scars speak to you of my sufferings and 
degradation. My captain treated me with mer- 
ciless severity, and my shipmates rarely spoke 
to me except in cursing and bitterness. For 
three years I had heard no prayer — known no 

74 THE child's magazine. 

" But you spoke of once seeing me — where ?" 

" I was just coming to that. Last night, as 
I wandered down Cherry-street, my ear caught 
some sounds — now strange, but once most 
familiar. They made me think of sweet home 
stud my sorrow-stricken mother. Would that 
she could have seen her boy as he stood before 
that house of prayer — not daring to enter — ^un- 
willing to go away. I never felt so before. It 
was a class meeting, and I suffered not a word 
to escape me. What would I not give to feel 
like those whom I heard speak of salvation 
and heaven. You, sir, were the leader ; and 
now tell me, I pray you tell me, if there be 
any hope for the most miserable of sinners ?" 

It might have been three or four weeks after 
this affecting incident that I was accosted in 
one of the public streets by a quite decent 
looking young man : " Have you forgotten the 
poor sailor boy ?" he asked ; " how much I 
have wished to see you and tell you all about 
it! The next evening after I saw you, I went 
to the prayer meeting you told me of; and, 
when the minister began to call upon sinners, 
I Was instantly on my feet to let them know 
that I felt the utmost need of a Saviour ; and it 
was not in vain, for then and there I found a 

"But your mother — surely you cannot have 
forgotten her ?" 

" O no : I wrote to her the next morning, 
praying her to forgive me, since God had done 
so. I would myself have been the bearer of 

THE child's magazine. 75 

the blessed tidings ; but I had no money. I 
have now found good employment, and, if you 
have no objections, I should like to join your 

His name was accordingly enrolled, and he 
proved one of the most exemplary and devout 
members of the church I have ever known. 

Trivial as the above incident may seem to 
some, it may certainly claim the prime charm of 
truthfulness, and affords a practical commentary 
on that primal truth of our holy rehgion, " By 
grace are ye saved." H. 


We have somewhere seen it stated that there 
is a litttle parish in England, where the Bible 
is not read, which pays for the support of the 
poor $5,772. There is also a parish of the 
same size in Scotland, under the influence of the 
Bible, which pays for the same purpose $106. 
A Roman Cathohc bishop, in a certain district 
of South America, proclaimed to the people, 
that they must not read the Bible, and promised 
that he would feed all their poor. One morn- 
ing before breakfast he counted 1,700 beggars 
before his door. — Christian Register. 

Ridicule, though trifling in appearance, is often 
found to spring from great depth of malice. 

76 THE child's magazine. 


Some years ago an Indian hired out in a 
place called Mohegan, in Connecticut. He 
was a professor of religion, and he was parti- 
cularly opposed to what is called close com- 
munion or shutting the door of the kingdom 
against each others — a curse which Christ re- 
buked as an abominable practice in the sight of 
God. He thought if the Lord should treat him 
in heaven as they treated each other on earth, 
heaven would afford them little enjoyment. At 
a certain time he undertook to describe the 
situation of the sectarians, and of himself in 
heaven, allowing that they and he were treated 
according to their conduct here. 

Now, said he, supposing you get to heaven ; 
the Lord Jesus asks you who you be ? you say, 
A Presbyterian; then, says he, You sit there on 
that little seat, and there you stay. Don't go 
any where else ; keep your place. 

Another comes to heaven. He asks, Who 
are you? He says, I am a Baptist. Then 
you sit there on "that" little "narrow" seat; 
let no one sit or eat with you, or come near you ; 
have all your seat to yourself; keep all your 
singing and rejoicing to yourself. 

Another comes. He says. What are you? 
He replies, I am a Methodist. Then, he says, 
You sit in that corner, and let one stand to 
keep all away that do not make as much noise 
as you do in your worship. 

Another appears, and he says, What are you? 

THE child's magazine. 77 

He answered, I am a Quaker. Then Christ 
says, You sit away out yonder alone, that the 
noisy ones may not disturb you, while you wor- 
ship by thinking. 

Indian comes. The Lord Jesus asks him 
who he be ? He says, I love the Lord Jesus 
with my whole heart and soul, and love all who 
love him with sincerity. Then the Lord Jesus 
says to him, " You may sit where you please ; 
walk all over heaven ; eat when and what you 
will; enjoy all the liberty heaven affords, be 
equal to angels, and not be ' confined' to any seat." 


A little girl of my acquaintance, about twelve 
years of age, was taken sick and felt that she 
must die. She began to be alarmed about her 
soul, and asked her father to pray for her. 

" My child," said the father, " I never prayed 
in my life." 

" Then I will pray for myself," said the Httle 
girl. She died soon after, but I hope her 
prayer was answered. . What a father that 
must be! Never prayed in his life! — then he 
never prayed for his children. How thankful 
should children be who have parents to pray for 
them. Yet, children, you must not depend on 
their prayers. Na, like the little girl, you must 
pray for yourselves. This little girl's father has 
since died as he lived — without praying. P. 


78 THE child's magazine. 


It is supposed by many who have studied 
the operations of the human mind, that impres- 
sions made on the memory can never be 
effaced ; and facts confirm this opinion. Im- 
pressions made years before often come unbid- 
den to our minds. A person who indulges 
impure thoughts, or listens to improper conver- 
sation, will be Uable, as long as he lives, to 
have these impressions renewed in his mind, 
however unpleasant they may be ; and they 
will often come to him at times and seasons 
when most unwelcome. 

Strive then earnestly to maintain purity of 
mind; which occupies the same place in the 
cause of moral reform as is occupied by the 
pledge of total abstinence in the temperance 
cause. It is the gateway which, if kept closed, 
will secure the citadel. But there is no safety 
when it is left open. But, to accomplish this, 
you must keep a guard over that unruly faculty, 
the imagination. Remember the words of the 
wise man, " He that hath no rule over his own 
spirit, is like a city that is broken down and 
without walls." Here is no defence against 
the enemy ; any one that pleases may come in, 
and take up his abode there. So with the 
mind. If the fancy is permitted to roam with- 
out control, the wall is broken down, and the 
mind becomes the " cage of every unclean bird." 

THE child's magazine. 79 

We copy the following from the Maine Wesleyan Jour- 
nal, the editor of which has good reason to congratulate 
himself on the possession of such a correspondent. 

child's morning song. 

Soft is the morning dew , 

Resting on flowers ; 
Gentle the balmy breath 

'Mid summer flowers ; 
Green is the moss couch, 

Spread for repose ; 
Sweet o'er the heather hill 

The wild flower blows. 

Dew on the bright flowers 

Soon glides away ; 
Calm breath of summer 

Speeds on its way — 
Yellow the moss bed, 

Bleak is the hill, 
Gone are the silver buds, 

Hush'd is the rill. 

Days without number. 

Thus on the wing, 
Fly as the shadow 

Glides o'er the hill ; 
Star of the morning. 

Gilding our bloom, 
Lights up at evening 

Our path to the tomb. 

80 THE child's magazine. 

Not this our Eden home 

Rock'd by the blast — 
Not this our beacon star 

Fading so fast ; 
^' Dark though the stormy hours, 

Fleeting and short — 
Bark of our pilgrimage 

Soon is at port. Mary. 


How beauteous is the sight 

Where little children meet, 
How rich is the delight, 

Their youthful songs how sweet ! 
And Jesus loves his name to hear 
When children round his throne appear. 

How happy is the place 

Where children meet the Lord, 

And banquet on his grace, 

And learn and love his word ! 

The place where they received their birth, 

The happiest spot on all the earth. 

A holy Bethel this, 

Which Sunday schools do prove ; 
How pure indeed the bhss, 

How sweet the youthful love ! 
And cherub hosts with children join 
To mingle praises all divine. 



Of this animal there are three distinct kinds : 
the brown bear of the Alps, the black bear of 
North America, and the white bear, famous in 
the Icy Seas. These, though different in their 
form and appearance, were, doubtless, originally 
of the same race, and owe the distinction which 
now marks them merely to the effect of climate 
and food. 

The brown bear, in its nature, is both savage 
and solitary ; and either resides in the hollow 
of a tree, in some unfrequented wood, or takes 
up its abode in those mountainous precipices 
that are so difficult of access to the human foot; 
in these solitary retreats it passes several 
months in the winter in a state of torpidity, 
without motion or sense, and never quits them 
until it is compelled by hunger to search for a 

Vol. XV.— 6 


fresh supply of food. At the commencement 
of the winter, the bear is so fat that for six or 
seven weeks it sleeps without a supply of food ; 
but the nutritious covering of fat being exhaust- 
ed, it is again compelled to seek for more. 

Savage and surly as this animal is in dispo- 
sition, when taken young, it submits, in a cer- 
tain degree, to be tamed : and, by being taught 
to erect itself upon the hinder legs, moves about 
to the instrument in an awkward kind of dance ; 
though, at the method adopted to produce this 
motion, both feeling and humanity ought to 
blush ; for the poor creature is set upon plates 
of hot iron, and, from the agony produced, 
naturally withdraws its paws. 

In Canada, where the black bear is very 
common, they reside toward the top of some 
old tree, where they would bid defiance to 
every kind of molestation, did not the hunters 
judiciously set fire to their retreat ; the old one 
is generally foremost to make her escape, while 
the hunters watch her appearance with their 
muskets cocked ; and, in attempting to escape 
from one danger, she falls into another, from 
which there is no retreat. The young ones, as 
they descend, are caught in a noose, and are 
either tamed to be exhibited, or killed to eat ; 
their paws are considered a great delicacy, and 
their hams are universally known to be good. 

The white Greenland bear differs, both in 
size and proportion, from the two former ani- 
mals already described ; the brown bear of the 
Alps is seldom above six feet, and the black 
' s 

THE child's magazine. 83 

be ax never is equal in size ; while that of 
Greenland, and the icy regions, is often known 
to be thirteen feet in length. The brown bear 
is formed strong and sturdy like the mastiff; 
while the figure of the white one, though con- 
cealed under its long hair, is infinitely more 
slight and slender, and rather resembles the 
greyhound in shape. All other species of ani- 
mated nature diminish in figure as they ap- 
proach the poles ; but the bear, being unmolested 
in those desolate climates, increases in size 
from the abundance of its food. As they en- 
tirely live upon fish and seals, their flesh has a 
strong and unpleasant taste ; and, though their 
destruction is attended with great danger, the 
skin, which is valuable, is the only reward. 



1. To lift up the heart to God, in thankful- 
ness, for renewing my life. 

2. To renew my covenant with God in Christ 
— ^by renewed acts of faith, receiving Christ, 
and rejoicing in the height of that relation. 
Resolution of being one of his people, doing 
him allegiance. 

3. Adoration and prayer. 

4. Setting a watch over my own infirmities 
and passions, over the snares laid in our way. 

84 THE child's magazine. 

Day Employment. 
There must be an employment. Two kinds : 

1. Our ordinary calling, to serve God in it. 
It is a service to Christ, though never so mean, 
Col. i, 3. Here, faithfulness, diligence, cheer- 
fulness. Not to overlay myself with more 
business than I can bear. 

2. Our spiritual employments. Mingle some- 
what in God's immediate service in this day. 


1. Meat and drink, moderation, seasoned 
somewhat of God. 

2. Recreation, first, not our business ; second, 
suitable. No games, if given to covetousness 
or passion. 

If alone. 

1. Beware of wandering thoughts ; fly from 
thyself, rather than entertain these. 

2. Let thy solitary thoughts be profitable ; 
view the evidences of thy salvation, the state 
of thy soul, the coming of Christ, thy own mor- 
tality ; it will make thee humble and watchful. 


Do good to them. Use God's name reve- 
rently. Beware of leaving an ill impression or 
ill example. Receive good from them, if more 


Cast up the accounts of the day. If aught 
amiss, beg pardon. Gather resolution of more 
vigilance. If well, bless the mercy and grace 
of God that hath supported thee. 

THE child's magazine. 85 

From the Sabbath School Messenger. 

As two little girls were returning from school, 
before me, the other day, I heard one of them 
say to the other, " I wish I lived in England ; 
then I would go to see the queen. O ! I would 
give any thing to be at her coronation. I should 
so Hke to see how a queen does look." 

" So should I," said the other ; "I do not 
really know what ' coronation' means, but I 
heard some one call it a ' splendid event.' " 

" My father," said the first, " was telling me 
about it last night ; he said it was the ceremony 
of placing the crown upon her head, in token 
of her royalty. And then, you know, she will 
be a queen always; her dress all gold, and 
rubies, and diamonds ; and every body will 
bow themselves as she passes ; and the whole 
nation be anxious to gain her favour, and do 
her some service. I should like to be a queen — 
would not you ?" 

And the other replied, " Yes, if I knew how- 
to govern well, I should." 

And I would like to have said to them, as I 
now say to these little readers. You may be 
queens. I do not mean that you can ever hold 
the sceptre of a nation, but you can govern 
yourselves. Be queen of your own heart, that 
you may banish every evil thought or wish, as 
a queen would a rebellious subject ; nor would 
this be without its glory and reward. 

We may imagine, in part, the scene of the 

86 THE child's magazine. 

coronation as it will occur — the long galleries 
of that stupendous building — the old Westmins- 
ter Abbey — filled with all the beauty, wealth, 
and nobility of the nation ; the throng of horse- 
men and officers, their armour gleaming in the 
sunbeams, reflecting light upon the diamonds 
of their gold and crimson dress ; jewelled 
coronets sparkling in profusion amid waving 
plumes ; then the music, loud and deep, as it 
rolls above the crowd — the prayer — the queen 
kneeling before the altar, while upon the still- 
ness of the ceremony we often hear the shouts 
of the people as they echo and echo through 
the high arches of that ancient edifice. 

But let us remember, these " splendid events" 
are not the things " into which the angels de- 
sire to look." These afifairs which so agitate 
the breasts even of a nation, calling forth the 
long, loud acclamations of a multitude, break 
not upon the still rapture of heaven. From 
His holy presence no hasty glance, no truant 
thought wanders back to earth, for scenes like 
these. The magnificence which so dazzles 
our eyes is dim and valueless when we remem- 
ber how soon the light of eternity will be shed 
upon it. 

Life's journey is short and soon accomplish- 
ed. Our errand here is not with the " pomp 
and circumstance" of earth ; a destiny is ours 
higher than an earthly throne ; more glorious 
than the gifts of gold and diadem ; more en- 
during than the world itself. 

The mighty and the loftiest of other ages 

THE child's magazine. 87 

have passed like the noiseless mist from earth ; 
they have forsaken their kingdoms and gone to 
lie down in the grave ; whence they return not 
to rekindle the light of their fame, extinguished 
in the shadows of mortality, nor revisit their 
palaces in which the dust of centuries has 

But from these comes a voice, saying, " God 
alone is great." If humble, we are his chil- 
dren. Though the place of our repose be un- 
known ; though our names are unwritten in 
treasured records, yet we are not forgotten be- 
fore God ; for we know that " when he shall 
appear we shall be like him ;" by his word bom 
again from the dust, with which we may have 
mingled for ages, to receive an inheritance 
" in his presence where is fulness of joy, and 
at whose right hand are pleasures for ever- 
more." H. M. T. 

From the Rev. Mr. Ely's Jownal at Marseilles. 

A very genteelly dressed and quiet young 
gentleman called upon me a little after candle- 
lighting, and introduced himself in a manner of 
most winning modesty, as a clergyman. He 
was on his way to Italy, and hearing of the 
work in which I was engaged, he wished to 
give me a trifle toward our chapel, and to inquire 
if he could preach on the coming Sabbath. Our 
conversation took a spiritual turn, and developed, 



on his part, a soul full of piety, and well versed 
in the Scriptures, and in the knowledge of the 
heart. After a pretty long conversation he gave 
me a Napoleon, and was about taking his leave, 
when I asked him to favour me with his card, 
that I might have the pleasure of calling upon 
him. As he handed it to me he was a little em- 
barrassed, and held it turned up that I should not 
see the name ; to relieve him I did not look at 
it, but laid it upon the mantelpiece, and accom- 
panied him toward the street door ; but he would 
not allow me to go farther than the head of the 
stairs. On returning to my room I looked at 
the card, and was not a little surprised to read, 

written on a very plain card. Rev. Lord A 

H There was so much sweetness and de- 
licacy in his manners, and so much refined 
feeling in his soul, as well as piety, that I be- 
lieved him to be a nohle man, before I knew him 
to be a nobleman. Wherever he passes, on 
his journey toward Italy, he seeks the oppor- 
tunity of preaching the word, and to afford 
pecuniary aid to every good work. May the 
great Head of the church reward him, and 
make him an instrument of turning many to 
righteousness ! In watering others may he be 
abundantly watered himself! Would that tra- 
vellers of this description were multiplied a 
thousand fold ! That they are increasing, is one 
of the joyful signs of the times. Did Christian 
travellers know how much it cheers and 
strengthens the servants of God labouring in 
lonely fields, and the little flocks that surround 

THE child's magazine. 89 

them, they would never pass through the places 
where they are to be found without stopping to 
salute them in the name of the Lord, and to bid 
them God speed. But alas ! how many minis- 
ters as well as laymen, like the priest and the 
Levite, " pass by on the other side." 


The laws of electricity are now pretty well 
understood, and it is just as reasonable to live 
in accordance with them as with any other laws 
of nature. To remove from a strong current of 
aia* to escape a stroke of lightning is just as 
philosophical as to step aside to shun a preci- 
pice ; it is equally as wise to insure your build- 
ing from lightning, by a good conductor, as to 
insure it from our common fires, at a premium 
of one and a half per cent. To betray symp- 
toms of fear in any case is unmanly, but to use 
one's reason to avert danger is altogether a 
different thing. The best safeguard against 
lightning is a good conductor kept in complete 
repair, and next to this a group of lofty trees ; 
but where a dwelling is protected by neither, it 
is highly prudent for its inmates to betake them- 
selves, during a heavy thunder storm, to the 
safest place in it. As the air is a very bad 
conductor of electricity, it always seeks to move 
in and with the current, and hence it is always 
dangerous in a thunder storm to sit between 

90 THE child's magazine. 

two windows or at the entrance of a door. 
Again, the air in a chimney being rarified by 
the heat below, the electric fluid often enters a 
house in this direction. Hence persons should 
never seat themselves immediately before a 
fire-place in a dangerous storm. When the 
electric fluid does not enter the door or chimney 
of a house, it usually strikes one corner of the 
roof, and passes the rafters, timbers, or sides of 
the building, until it enters the earth. On 
this account it is unsafe to sit in the corner 
or to lean against the side of the room, during 
heavy electric discharges. It is also dangerous 
to stand before a mirror ; the quicksilver and 
gilt of which is a good conductor of lightning ; 
indeed the presence of all metallic substances 
should be avoided on the same principle. The 
safest position in a house as regards lightning, 
is in bed, the feathers of which it is composed 
being a bad conductor of electricity. It is said 
that no person has ever been struck by light- 
ning in this position, unless their limbs were 
in contact with the frames. As a proof of this 
remark, we once saw a house, containing 
twenty-five persons, literally torn in pieces by 
lightning without injury to any one. They 
were all in bed. Next to a bed, the centre of a 
room, closed up on the windward side, is the 
safest position in which we can place ourselves. 

Those only go under God's protection that 
follow God's direction. 

THE child's magazine. 91 

I don't like to see boys wasteful. 

1. Books. — Books are cheap; so Alexander 
is always saying ; and he knocks his geography 
about, and strains it open, and soils it, and tears it, 
so that in six months he must have another. Thus 
he has two in a year. John sits next to him and 
takes care of his, and when Alexander has worn 
out two, John's is almost as good as ever. Now 
yonder, on the upper end of that low seat, sits 
Peter without any book ; for his father is either 
too poor — or thinks himself too poor — to buy 
him one. Suppose Alexander had been as 
careful as John, and, instead of buying the 
second new book for himself, had bought one 
for Peter, and made him a present of it : would 
it not have given him pleasure 1 

2. Clothes. — Lucius is ever tearing his 
clothes. I do not pretend that accidents can 
always be avoided. Clothes are not made of 
iron or copper, and they will sometimes get 
torn. But Lucius seems to take no pains to 
avoid tearing his. " My father is able to have 
them mended, or get me more," he is apt to say 
or think ; and, if we may judge by his be- 
haviour, there is reason to think that he is as 
willing to tear and injure his coat as not, in 
order to have another more new and handsome. 
He does not appear to remember that Mr. N.'s 
family suffer every winter both for clothes and 
shoes ; and that what he might save would do 
them great good. 

2. Food. — I have seen many a boy waste his 



food. Does he not know that there are multi- 
tudes around him in the world hungry, and per- 
haps starving? By what rule, then, does he 
allow himself to waste things ? Is it because 
he does not happen to see any body who is in 
want ? Why, we may not see any body that is 
sick ; and yet there is no day, or hour, or 
minute, when somebody is not sick and dying. 
Nay, there is not an hour that can be named, 
when there are not more than one individual 
in a large city who feels the pangs of want ; 
and to whom a few cents to buy food or medi- 
cine would not afford relief. 

4. Money. — Thomas and Robert have twelve 
and a half cents a month each to spend as they 
please. It is given them by their father. Thomas 
says to himself, when he receives his, " This 
I'll save, and use it better than I did the last. 
I'll buy nothing but what I want." Well, he 
goes out to the common in the evening, and 
meets a boy with candy. His mouth waters 
for some of the candy. Says he, one cent is 
but little; I have eleven and a half more. So 
down his throat goes the candy. Next day h,e 
meets the orange man. " Cheap oranges ! cheap 
oranges! only two cents apiece." Well, an 
orange is at last bought. The month is but 
half through, when lo! he spends. the last cent. 
It goes rather hardly, but then he thinks, " Why, 
it is only a cent, and not worth much alone, if I 
keep it : so I'll spend it." The rest of the 
month he goes without any money at all, 
sometimes much to his sorrow. 

THE child's magazine. 93 


They that will, with profit, make use of the 
proper instruments of virtue, must so live as if 
they were always under the physician's hand. 
For the counsels of religion are not to be ap- 
plied to the distempers of the soul as men used 
to take hellebore ; but they must dwell together 
with the spirit of a man, and be twisted about 
his understanding for ever ; they must be used 
like nourishment, that is, by a daily care and 
meditation, not like a single medicine, and upon 
the actual pressure of a present necessity. For 
counsels and wise discourses, applied to an 
actual distemper, at the best are but like strong 
smells to an epileptic person ; sometimes they 
may raise him up ; but they never cure him. 
The following rules, if they be made familiar 
to our natures, and the thoughts of every day, 
may make virtue and religion become easy and 
habitual ; but, when the temptation is present, 
and hath already seized upon some portion of 
our consent, we are not so apt to be counselled; 
and we find no gust or relish in the precept ; 
the lessons are the same, but the instrument is 
unsttung or out of tune. 

He that gives alms does best not always to 
consider the minute and strict measures of his 
ability, but to give " according as God hath 
prospered him." A man must not weigh grains 
in the accounts of his repentance ; but for a 
great sin have a great sorrow and a great seve- 
rity, and in this take the ordinary advices, 


though, it may be, a less rigour might not be 
insufficient. Arithmetical measures, especially 
of our own proportioning, are hut arguments 
of want of love, and of frowardness in reli- 
gion, or else are instruments of scruple, and 
then become dangerous. Use the rule heartily 
and enough, and there will be no harm in the 
error, if any should happen. — Dedication of 
Holy Living. 


" He is King of kings and Lord of lords," Rev. xix, 16. 

Lord of the sterile wastes. 

The sands, the rocks, the snows : 
Or flower-crown'd sods, or fruitful fields, 

Where rich luxuriance grows. 
All that we see, — the forest king, 

The cedar, and the pine — 
Each shrub, each leaf, each blade of grass, 

Lord of the world ! is thine. 

Lord of the raging main. 

The boundless and the deep. 
The foaming cataract, or the lake 

Which rude winds never sweep ; 
Each murm'ring rill, each little stream 

That leaps unto the sea — 
The beautiful and bright, belong 

Lord of the world ! to thee. 

THE child's magazine. 95 

Lord of the trackless air, 

The pure, free air of heaven — 
The rushing blast, the gentle breeze, 

The low, sweet breath of even : 
Earth's melodies, the nameless ones, 

The glad, or dirge-like tone. 
Alike are songs of praise — and all, 

Lord of the world ! thine own. 

Lord of the frozen north — 

Of evening's pensive star — 
Of all the myriad lights that gem 

Earth's canopy afar, — 
Hast thou not fashion'd orb and sphere, 

And taught all things to raise 
A voice of melody, to hymn, 

Lord of the world ! thy praise ? 

From the Poughkeepsie Telegraph. 

There is an hour most lovely 

In this sad vale of tears ! 
Where hope, alas ! can only 

Dispel our rising fears ! 
'Tis when from friends we're parting, 

We heave the heart-felt sigh — 
The tear unconscious starting 

From the love-beaming eye. 


Not pearly drop of morning, 

Nor diamond's glittering light, 
Nor stars the sky adorning, 

Shine so divinely bright, 
As does the tear drop falhng, 

That native gem of heaven ! 
When shed at friendship's calling, 

A tribute to her given. 

In humble strains and lowly, 

Sweet friendship ! thee I sing ; 
Thou art as pure and holy 

As balmy breath of spring ! 
Yet still thou art deceiving 

As blush of orient morn ; 
For when our friends we're leaving, 

We feel thy sharpest thorn. 

But hope in voice consoling 

Does promise not in vain. 
While onward time is rolling, 

That we shall meet again ; 
Then hush'd be every sorrow. 

And calm'd be every fear. 
Peace from reflection borrovi^, 

And dry the glist 'ning tear 

Poughkeepsie, May 30, 1838. 

The wise and prudent conquer difficulties 
By daring to attempt them. Sloth and folly 
Shiver and shrink at sight of toil and danger, 
And make th' impossibility they fear. — Rome. 




In walking through the streets, particularly 

"When evening draws her crimson curtain round," 

a person cannot fail being struck with the ill 
behaviour of the boys who crowd about the 
corners, cellar doors, engine houses, and other 
conspicuous places. It is really shocking to 
pass within ear-shot of these wicked urchins, 
and hear them discourse on all the mysteries 
of vice. There is something truly awful to 
witness such early perversion of all the best 
and noblest feelings of our nature ; to listen to 
the language of the tavern and theatre poured 
forth by voices which, from their childish mo- 
dul^ion, should utter nothing but the accents 
Vol. XV.— 7 


of sweetest innocence. If these boys have 
parents, they are highly censurable for this 
utter neglect of the temporal and spiritual wel- 
fare of their offspring, whom they thus allow to 
grow up a nuisance to society and a future tor- 
ment to themselves. If any of these lads have 
some rational employment during the day, they 
should not for that reason be turned loose upon 
the streets at night. Why not improve their 
minds by acquiring the elements of sound 
knowledge, and learn their catechisms, which 
would teach them the evil of their ways ? We 
would not deprive them of healthful exercise ; 
but is it conducive to health to lie on damp 
cellar doors, smoke abominable segars, and 
learn the first rudiments of the gin shop ? O 
when shall we have a municipal establishment 
under which quiet citizens can walk along the 
streets unmolested, and old age can drag its 
feeble steps along without irreverence being 
shown to its gray hairs ! 


There is an efficacy in the bended knee, in 
the uplifted heart, and outstretched hand, — in 
the accents of prayer arising from the lips of a 
mother, supplicating God to bless her child, 
which faith may interpret for its encouragement, 
and the future will one day bless. — L. Richmond. 


THE child's magazine. 99 


I had heard of Yankee clock pedlars, tin 
pedlars, and Bible pedlars, especially of him 
who sold Polyglot Bibles (all in English) to the 
amount of sixteen thousand pounds. The house 
of every substantial farmer had three substantial 
ornaments, a wooden clock, a tin reflector, and 
a Polyglot Bible. How is it that an American 
sells his wares at whatever price he pleases, 
where a blue-nose would fail to make a sale at 
all ? I will inquire of the clock maker the se- 
cret of his success. 

" What a pity it is, Mr. Slick," (for such was 
his name,) " what a pity it is," said I, " that you 
who are so successful in teaching these people 
the value of clocks, could not also teach them 
the value of time." 

" I guess," said he, " they have got that ring 
to grow on their horns yet, which every four- 
year-old has in our country. We reckon hours 
and minutes to be dollars and cents. They do 
nothing in these parts, but eat, drink, smoke, 
sleep, ride about, lounge at taverns, make 
speeches at temperance meetings, and talk about 
' house of assembly.' If a man don't hoe his 
corn, and don't get a crop, he says it is all 
owing to the bank ; and if he runs into debt and 
is sued, why, he says the lawyers are a curse 
to the country. They are a most idle set of 
folks, I tell you." 

" But how is it," said I, " that you manage to 
sell such an immense number of clocks, (which 

100 THE child's magazine. 

certainly cannot be called necessary,) among 
a people with whom there seems to be so great 
a scarcity of money ?" 

Mr. Slick paused, as if considering the pro- 
priety of answering the question ; then looking 
me in the face, said, in a confidential tone — 

" Why, I don't care if I do tell you, for the 
market is glutted, and I shall quit this circuit. 
It is done by a knowledge of soft sawder and 
human natur. But here is deacon Flint's," said 
he*; " I have but one clock left, and I guess I 
will sell it to him." 

At the gate of a most comfortable looking 
farm-house stood deacon Flint, a respectable 
old man, who had understood the value of time 
better than most of his neighbours, if one 
might judge from the appearance of every 
thing about him. After the usual salutation, 
an invitation to " alight" was accepted by Mr. 
Slick, who said he wished to take leave of Mrs. 
Flint before he left Colchester. 

We had scarcely entered the house, before 
the clock maker pointed to the view from the 
window, and, addressing himself to me, said, 

" If I was to tell them in Connecticut there 
was such a farm as this, away down east here, 
in Nova Scotia, they would'nt believe me — 
why, there aint such a location in all New- 
England. The deacon has a hundred acres 
of dyke"— 

" Seventy," said the deacon, " only seventy." 

" Well, seventy ; but then there is your fine 
deep bottom, why, I could run a ramrod into it." 


" Interval, we -call it," said the deacon, who, 
though evidently pleased at this eulogium, 
seemed to wish the experiment of the ramrod 
to be tried in the right place. 

" Well, interval, if you please, (though Pro- 
fessor Cumstock, in his work on Ohio, caUs 
them bottoms,) is just as good as dyke. Then 
there is that water privilege, worth three or four 
thousand doUars, twice as good as what Gov- 
ernor Cass paid fifteen thousand dollars for. I 
wonder, deacon, you don't put up a carding 
mill on it : the same works would carry a turn- 
ing-lathe, a shingle machine, a circular saw, 
grind bark, and" — 

" Too old," said the deacon, " too old for all 
those speculations." 

" Old !" repeated the clock-maker — "not you, 
why, you are worth half a dozen of the young 
men we see now-a-days ; you are young enough 
to have" — 

Here he said something in a lower tone of 
voice, which I did not distinctly hear ; but 
whatever it was, the deacon was pleased ; he 
smiled, and said he did not think of such things 

" But your beasts, dear me, your beasts must 
be put in and have a feed," saying which, he 
went out to order them to be put into the 

As the old gentleman closed the door after 
him, Mr. Slick drew near to me, and said in 
an under tone — 

"That is what I call soft sawder. An 

102 THE child's magazine. 

Englishman would pass that -man as a sheep 
passes a hog in a pasture, without looking at 
him; or," said he, looking rather archly, "if he 
was mounted on a pretty smart horse, I guess 
he'd trot away, if he could. Now I find" — 

Here his " soft sawder" was cut short by the 
entrance of Mrs. Fhnt. 

" Jist come to say good by, Mrs. FUnt." 

'' What, have you sold all your clocks ?" 

" Yes, and very low, too, for money is scarce, 
and I wished to close the consam — no, I am 
wrong, in saying all, for I have just one left. 
Neighbour Steel's wife asked to have the re- 
fusal of it, but I guess I won't sell it. I had 
but two of them, this one, and the feller of it, 
that I sold Governor Lincoln. General Green, 
the secretary of state for Maine, said he'd give 
me fifty dollars for this here one : it has com- 
position wheels and patent axles — it is a beau- 
tiful article — a real first chop — no mistake — 
genuine superfine ; but I guess I'll take it back. 
And besides. Squire Hawk might think kinder 
harder, that I did not give him the oflfer." 

" Dear me," said Mrs. Flint, " I should like 
to see it — where is it ?" 

" It is in a chest of mine, over the way, at 
Tom Tate's store ; I guess he can ship it on to 

" That's a good man," said Mrs. Flint, "jist 
let's look at it." 

Mr. Slick, willing to oblige, yielded to these 
entreaties, and soon produced the clock, a 
gaudy, highly varnished trumpery looking affair 

THE child's magazine. 103 

He placed it on the chimney piece, where its 
beauties were pointed out, and duly appreciated 
by Mrs. Flint, whose admiration was about 
ending in a proposal, when Mr. Flint returned 
from giving his directions about the care of the 
horses. The deacon praised the clock. He, 
too, thought it a handsome one, but the deacon 
was a prudent man. He had a watch, he was 
sorry, but he had no occasion for a clock. 

" I guess you're in the wrong furrow, this 
time, deacon ; it aint for sale," said Mr. SUck ; 
" and if it was, I reckon neighbour Steel's wife 
would have it, for she gives me no peace about 

Mrs. Flint said, that Mr. Steel had enough to 
do, poor man, to pay his interest, without buy- 
ing clocks for his wife. 

" It's no consarn of mine," said Mr. Slick, 
" as long as he pays me what he Jias to do ; but 
I guess I don't want to sell it — and, besides, it 
comes too high : that clock can't be made at 
Rhode Island under forty dollars. Why, it aint 
possible," said the clock-maker, in apparent sur- 
prise, looking at his watch, " why, as I'm alive, 
it is four o'clock, and if I hav'nt been two hours 
here — how on airth shall I reach River Philip 
to-night? I'll tell you what, Mrs. Flint, I'll 
leave the clock in your care till I return on ray 
way to the States. I'll set it agoing, and put it 
to the right time." 

As soon as this operation was performed, he 
delivered the key to the deacon, with a sort of 
serio-comico injunction to wind up the clock 


104 THE child's magazine. 

every Saturday night, which Mrs. Flint said she 
would take care should be done, and promised 
to remind her husband of it, in case he should 
chance to forget it. 

" That," said the clock-maker, as soon as we 
were mounted — " that I call human natur ! Now 
that clock is sold for forty dollars ; it cost me 
just six dollars and fifty cents. Mrs. Flint will 
never let Mrs. Steel have the refusal — nor will 
the deacon learn, until I call for the clock, that 
having once indulged in the use of a superfluity, 
how difficult it is to give it up. We can do 
without any article of li^bcury we have never 
had, but when once obtained, it is not ' in human 
natur' to surrender it voluntarily. Of fifteen 
thousand sold by myself and partners in this 
province, twelve thousand were left in this* 
manner, and only ten clocks were ever re- 
turned ; when we called for them, they invari- 
ably bought them. We trust to ' soft sawder* 
to get them into the house, and to 'human 
natur' that they never come out of it." 


Fenelon, archbishop of Cambray, being told 
that his library was burned down, immediately 
exclaimed, " Thank God, that it is not a poor 
man's cottage destroyed !" and on no occasion 
was a murmur ever heard to escape his lips, 
although he met with much opposition in the 
discharge of his episcopal functions. 


An intimate friend of his, who highly admired 
his virtues, one day asked the prelate "if he 
could communicate the secret of being always 

" Yes," replied the good man, " I can teach 
you my secret with much facihty : it consists 
in nothing more than making a right use of your 
eyes !" 

His friend begged him to explain himself. 

" Most willingly," returned the bishop. " In 
whatever state I am, I first of all look up to 
heaven, and I remember my principal business 
here is to get there : I then look down upon 
the earth, and call to mind how small a portion 
I shall occupy in it, when I come to be inter- 
red : I then look abroad into the world, and 
observe what multitudes there are who are, in 
many respects, more unhappy than myself. 
Thus I learn where true happiness is placed, 
where all our cares must end ; and then see how 
very little reason I have to complain." 


It is wonderful to consider how a command 
to be liberal, either upon a civil or religious 
account, all of a sudden impoverishes the rich, 
breaks the merchant, shuts up every private 
man's exchequer, and makes those men in a 
minute have nothing at all to give, who, at the 
very same instant, want nothing to spend. — 
Dr. South. 

106 THE child's magazine. 

From the Sunday School Journal. 


This is the name of a flourishing town in 
Michigan, situated on each side of the River 
Huron, a small river emptying into Lake Erie, 
about twenty miles below Detroit. It is thirty 
miles west of Detroit, The Detroit and St. 
Joseph's railroad passes through this village ; it 
is completed as far as Ypsilanti, and has been 
in operation since the first of February last. 
The settlement of Ypsilanti was commenced 
during the year 1827, at that time a desert 
place ; few, if any, white inhabitants, and no 
communication with Detroit, except by an In- 
dian trail. Let me tell you here, as perhaps 
some of you may not know, that an Indian trail 
is a narrow footpath, often worn to the depth 
of twelve or fourteen inches and not a foot wide 
at top. The Indians, in travelling, whether on 
foot or horseback, follov^r one after the other, 
and though, as is now the case, roads have been 
made, yet they prefer their own narrow foot- 
path, winding along among the trees or across 
the open space, so but they pursue their own 
beaten track — a striking example of the force 
of habit, showing us the importance of forming 
good habits in early life. The lady of the 
house where I board has given me many par- 
ticulars of the early settlement of Ypsilanti. I 
will give you an account of the first Sunday 
school established here in her own words. 

THE child's magazine. 107 

She said, — " We came here in the spring of 
1828 ; at that time there were but two frame 
houses in the town. There was no regular 
school of any kind. There was no meeting 
for worship on the Sabbath. Quite a number 
of families and many transient persons were re- 
sidents here, but all seemed indifferent to every 
thing of a religious nature. The Sabbath was 
a day of resort to the only tavern in the place, 
where games of all descriptions were practised 
with impunity. Horse-racing and card-playing 
were prevalent, and some who came from other 
and better society were fast sinking in charac- 
ter, and becoming as depraved as those around 
them. About two months after we came here, 
(July, 1828,) I found a pious female who felt 
on this subject as myself; we agreed to make 
an effort to collect the children on the Sabbath 
to read the Scriptures, and give them such in- 
struction as we were able. About ten were 
thus assembled at first, but afterward increased 
to twenty or more ; but in the whole place not 
a man was found who could pray in our little 
Sunday school. Yet, with the assistance of 
our heavenly Father's aid we persevered and 
found our reward in the moral improvement of 
the children, and, in some instances, of parents ; 
for, there being no religious meetings, many 
came to hear and see the improvement of their 
children. Thus commenced our first Sabbath 
school in Ypsilanti." 

I might add there is indubitable evidence, 
that from that date commenced the moral im- 

108 THE child's magazine. 

provement of the people. The next year they 
were encouraged by the labours of a circuit 
preacher, and the little Sabbath school steadily 
advanced. In 1831 the school became auxili- 
ary to the American Sunday School Union. A 
donation of books was granted, and the first 
Sunday school library was established, which 
gave new interest to the cause. It has received 
additions from time to time as the population 
has increased, and its friends persevered. There 
are four churches gathered here, viz. : Presby- 
terian, Methodist, Episcopalian, and Baptist, 
each of which, except the Baptist, now have 
Sunday schools. The one at the Presbyterian 
church is the original Union school, and num- 
bers (including the adult classes) over two 
hundred scholars. I consider it one of the first 
schools in the state. There have been, since 
its commencement, more than twenty conver- 
sions among the scholars, some of which were 
very interesting. The superintendent is a con- 
verted Jew. He came to this country from 
Germany some three or four years since ; had 
been educated in all the strictness of the cere- 
monial law, had never even read a chapter in 
the New Testament. During a revival in the 
church, two years since, he came out decided, 
and publicly professed faith in that neglected 
Saviour so much abused by his people and kin- 
dred, and now displays a commendable zeal in 
the cause of Sabbath schools. 

liast summer I proposed to the Ypsilanti 
Sabbath school and others, in the adjoining 

THE child's JVIAGAZINE. 109 

towns, to meet on the 4th of July, in the village 
of Ypsilanti, to celebrate the day with appro- 
priate religious services. The plan was most 
cordially adopted ; at nine o'clock might be 
seen the wagons coming in at all the avenues 
of the village, freighted with parents and chil- 
dren of all ages, and I might say of almost 
every variety of costume. From one town 
alone, (Superior,) twenty wagons, each with 
two horses, carrying from eight to ten indivi- 
duals, came in in a line, one after the other, 
affording a cheering evidence of the interest in 
the cause. 

Clergymen from the different denominations 
were present, and united in the services of the 
day. The children occupied the body of the 
house during the exercises. The children were 
then formed in procession, and walked to a 
grove, where suitable refreshments were gra- 
tuitously provided by the ladies of the village 
and vicinity, for all who wished. 

Could you, my young friends, have seen this 
interesting collection of children, numbering 
more than seven hundred, the youngest seated 
in the centre of the circle, and the larger ones 
arranged in the rear according to their size, and 
the parents and friends surrounding the whole ; 
could you have seen their smiling intelligent 
faces, and taken a view into future years, see- 
ing in them the hope of the state, I am sure 
your hearts would have received a new impulse 
in your benevolent zeal for Sabbath schools in 
he west. Think of Ypsilanti ten years since, 


110 THE child's magazine. 

and the two female friends of Sabbath schools, 
with their ten or twelve children assembled in 
the log cabin on a Sabbath morn, and see it now 
with its increased population, its moral renova- 
tion, and all its cheering prospects, and well 
may we exclaim, What hath God wrought ! 


Child. — This world is very beautiful, 
And sweet and fair to me ; 
They say that heaven is fairer still ; 
Tell me how this can be. 

Tutor. — ^O yes, heaven is all happiness, 
A summer day of joy ; 
This bright glad earth, that better world, 
God made them both, my boy. 

Child. — O, then, if God is wise and good, 
And heaven is bright and fair. 
Tell me, dear friend, of God and hea- 
And show me where they are. 

Tutor. — Know, God is like a Father kind 
And merciful to thee ; 
Serve him in life ; and, after death, 
Heaven shall thy portion be. 

Child. — When you and I together stood 
In that still burial ground, 
You told me they were dead who slept 
'Neath those cold stones around. 

THE child's magazine. Ill 

Were their hearts ever bhthe as mine, 
Their limbs as Ught and free ? 

And shall I die, and sleep like them ? 
Say, what is death to me ? 

Tw^or.— Dear boy, these things are deep and 
Too deep for such as thou ; 
We'll talk of them in future years. 
Thou couldst not bear them now. 

The child a moment paused, and o'er 
The infant cheek and brow 

A shade of doubt and wonder past. 
Then with a sudden glow 

Of quick intelligence, he spoke, — 

" O, no, that cannot be. 
For 'midst those lonely grave stones 
^- Is many a one I see. 

(For I have measured them myself) 
They're shorter much than I : 

Tell me of God, and heaven, and death ; 
I'm not too young to die !" 


O let me never, never dare 

To act a trifler's part, 
Or think that God will hear a prayer 

Which comes not from the heart. 

112 THE child's magazine. 


Once on a time Christ's little band, 

To escape from ruder company, 
Resolved to leave the solid land, 

And brave the dangers of the sea. 

The evening came and it grew dark, 
And Jesus was not with them there ; 

The wind blew hard upon their bark, 
The sea tumultuous did appear. 

Now hard they row, and careful steer, 
While still the howling tempests rave ; 

When lo ! they see approaching near. 
The Saviour walking on the wave ! 

Peter then cried, Bid me, Lord, 
On the rude billows walk with thee ; 

He bade him come", and at his word 
Assay'd to walk the dangerous sea. 

But soon his trembling faith gave out, 

And he fell sinking in the main ; lH 

His Saviour said, " Why dost thou doubt ? 
I will thy sinking feet sustain." 

Then he with kindness reach'd his hand, 
And Peter walk'd upon the deep ; 

The winds were hush'd at Christ's command, 
And the rude waves were luU'd to sleep. 

Alas ! how often we essay 

To venture the unruly wave ; 
And sink, imless the Lord display 

His gracious readiness to save. 

THE child's magazine. 113 


In dependance on the promised grace of my 
covenant God and Saviour, through continued 
prayer for the presence and aid of the eternal 
Spirit, I will carry into effect the following 
resolves : — 

1 . I will value rny soul more than my body, 
consecrating both to the service and glory of 
Almighty God. 

2. I will improve my mind in the knowledge 
of the doctrines and duties of the gospel. 

3. I will supplant the evil propensities and 
affections of my heart, and cultivate the same 
to high attainments in personal holiness. 

4. In my conversation I will introduce sub- 
jects of a religious nature, seeking to make them 
experimental and searching. I will not allow 

Vol. XV.— 8 

114 THE child's magazine. 

myself to spend time in idle and frivolous 

5. I will avoid conformity to the extrava- 
gances, fashions, and follies of the world ! 

6. I will, when invited to places of amuse- 
ment and parties of pleasure, ask myself. Shall 
I, by complying, increase my spirituality, and 
benefit the souls of my impenitent friends ? 

7. I will improve the opportunities to pray 
with my Christian and impenitent friends. 

8. I will be constant in attending the means 
of grace, the sanctuary, the prayer meeting, the 
conference, the monthly concert. Sabbath school, 
teachers' meeting, and other occasional meet- 
ings. I will allow myself no excuse, extraor- 
dinaries excepted. 

9. I will be active in benevolent objects, and 
will engage in none that render me censorious 
and suspicious. 

10. I will seek to retain truth which I hear 
from the pulpit, and which I gain by reading. 
I will converse upon it, and pray that it may be 
sanctified to myself and others. 

11. I will read portions of the Bible, and 
perform the duty of secret prayer daily. 

12. I will speak evil of and hate no one — 
will be kind to all — looking upon and treating 
every human being as a neighbour and a friend. 

13. As I may die suddenly and soon, I will, 
in the secret place of prayer, peruse these reso- 
lutions on Saturday evening of each week — or, 
if prevented doing it then, will do it on Sabbath 
morning or evening. Trusting in the blood of 

THE child's magazine. 115 

sprinkling, and in the grace of God, the Father, 
Son, and Holy Ghost, the God of the everlast- 
ing covenant, I will seek to be ready for death 
and the judgment. 


There are two ideas generally connected 
with the word " light" in Scripture, when used 
in a spiritual sense ; one primary idea, know- 
ledge, because light shows us things as they 
are ; and then a secondary idea, joy, because a 
right knowledge of spiritual things imparts joy. 
When, therefore, we are told that there is light 
in heaven, that God dwells in light there, that 
the inheritance of the saints there is an inherit- 
ance in hght, we are to understand that heaven 
is a word of knowledge as gives rise to pleasure 
and joy ; that we shall not lose our character as 
intellectual beings there ; that our rainds and 
understandings will go with us to heaven, and 
be called into exercise in heaven, and have 
every thing brought before them that can ex- 
pand, and elevate, and delight them. Here on 
earth the Christian is not a creature of mere 
feelings and sensations, of joys coming he 
knows not whence nor how ; he is not a mystic 
or enthusiast ; he is a sober-minded, rational 
man, more so in his religion, perhaps, than in 
any thing else. In heaven he will rise higher 
still in spiritual understanding. He will com- 
prehend the happiness that fills him. It will 

116 THE child's magazine. 

all flow from knowledge imparted to him, from 
knowledge received by an active, vigorous un- 
derstanding into a clear, holy, and enlarged mind. 
But whence is this knowledge to come ? The 
text tells us. It traces it, observe, to the glo- 
rified Jesus as its source. God in Christ, it 
says, and in Christ as the Son of man, is the 
author of it. " Christ the light of heaven." — 
Bexleifs Practical Sermons, vol. ii, 1838 


In the winter of 1809, Mr. Wilberforce, 
meditating a trip to Bath, wrote to Mr. Per- 
ceval to ascertain the day of the meeting of 

" Parliament," was the reply, " will not meet, 
unless something unforeseen should occur, until 
Monday, the 16th of January. I hope, there- 
fore, you will lose no time in getting your health 
well set up at Bath." 

His watchfulness for public morals at once 
suggested to him the amount of Sunday travel- 
ling which such a day of meeting would create ; 
and he begged, in answer, that it might, if pos- 
sible, be altered. 

" I thank you for your note of yesterday," 
rejoined the conscientious minister, " and am 
really sorry that I have given occasion for it. 
I feel myself the more to blame, because, upon 
the receipt of your note, it brought back to my 

THE child's magazine. 117 

recollection (what I had till then forgot) some 
observations which the speaker made to me 
some time ago upon the same subject ; if they 
had been present to mind when we settled 
the meeting of parliament, I would not have 
fixed it upon a Monday. We were, however, 
almost driven into that day. * * * Notwith- 
standing all these considerations, however, if I 
had thought, as I ought to have done, of the 
Sunday travelling, which the meeting on Mon- 
day will too probably occasion, I would have 
preferred meeting on a Friday in the sessions 
week, with all its inconveniences. You have 
the whole state of the case before you. I am 
open to yoiu: judgment — for inadvertence is 
certainly never felt by me as any excuse." 

Two days later he wrote again. 

"Dear Wilbefforce, You will be glad to hear 
that it is determined to postpone the meeting 
of parliament till Thursday the 19th, instead 
of Monday the 16th, to obviate the objections 
which you have suggested to the meeting of 
that day. Yours, very truly, Spencer Perceval." 

Mr. Wilberforce has, in his diary, without 
any allusion to the part he had in it — 

" The House put off nobly by Perceval, be- 
cause of the Sunday travelling it would have 
occasioned." — Wilberforce^ s Life. 

Envy cannot exist in perfection without a 
secret esteem of the person envied. 

118 THE child's magazine. 


A remarkable instance of this is related by 
Bryan Edwards, in his History of St. Domingo. 
It occurred during the revolution of 1791. 

" Amid the scenes of horror, one instance 
occurs of such fidelity and attachment in a 
negro, as was equally unexpected and affecting. 
Monsieur and Madame Billion, their daughter 
and son-in-law, and two white servants, residing 
on a mountain plantation about thirty miles from 
Cape Fran9ois, were apprized of the revolt by 
one of their own slaves, who was himself in the 
conspiracy, but promised, if possible, to save 
the lives of his master and his family. Having 
no immediate means of providing for their es- 
cape, he conducted them into an adjacent wood; 
after v^^hich he went and joinail the revolters. 
The following night he found an opportunity of 
bringing them provisions from the rebel camp. 
The second night he returned again with a far- 
ther supply of provisions ; but declared it would 
be out of his power to give them any farther 
assistance. After this, they saw nothing of the 
negro for three days ; but at the end of that 
time he came again, and directed the family 
how to make their way to a river which led to 
Port Margot, assuring them they would find a 
canoe on a part of the river which he described. 
They followed his directions, found the canoe, 
and got safely into it, but were overset by the 
rapidity of the current, and, after a narrow es- 
cape, thought it best to return to their retreat in 

THE child's magazine. 119 

the mountains. The negro, anxious for their 
safety, again found them out, and directed them 
to a broader part of the river, where he assured 
them he had provided a boat ; but said it was 
the last effort he could make to save them. 
They went accordingly, but not finding the 
boat, gave themselves up for lost, when the 
faithful negro again appeared like their guardian 
angel. He brought with him pigeons, poultry, 
and bread ; and conducted the family by slow 
marches in the night along the banks of the 
river, until they were in sight of the wharf at 
Port Margot ; when, telling them they were 
out of danger, he took his leave for ever, and 
went to join the army. The family were in the 
woods nineteen nights." — History of St. Do- 
mingo, page 74. 


There was a very small boy who lived in a 
village in New-Jersey. His name was John. 
One day his mother sent him into the woods 
to look for the cow. She said to him, " Now, 
John, you must be sure to go no farther than 
the brook ; if you go on the other side of that 
brook, I think you will be lost." 

John told his mother that he would not go 
over this brook. He put on his hat and set off 
to look for the cow. As he walked along he 
picked a great many red and blue flowers, and 
stuck them in his hat. 

120 THE child's magazine. 

John went along a great way, but could not 
see any thing of the cow. Sometimes he stop- 
ped to listen and try to hear the cow's bell, for 
she had a large bell hung to her neck. Then^* 
he looked in the soft muddy places, to see 
whether there were any cow tracks. At last 
he came to the brook, where his mother had 
said he must stop. There was a log over the 
brook. Something in his breast seemed to say, 
John, you must not disobey your mother. But 
John thought he heard the cow's bell on the 
other side. He sat down and thought. At last, 
he said, I will go over a little way. 

It was wrong for John to do so. Children 
ought to obey their parents. Little boys are 
not able to tell what is right for themselves. 
John walked and walked, and at last he came 
to a place where there was another brook. He 
could not find his way back. He ran till he 
was out of breath, but he could not see any 
path. Then he sat down and cried. He was 
in the woods all day, and then it began to be 
dark. He was very cold and hungry. His 
limbs ached, and he was frightened. He said, 
" O what a wicked boy I have been to disobey 
my dear mother." 

John was very sorry. He thought he might 
die in the woods that cold night. Then he 
remembered that God is everywhere, that he 
also forgives sinners. He remembered that 
God hears prayer. He knelt down under a 
bush, and put up his hands. The tears ran 
down his face. He prayed to God to forgive 

THE child's MAGAZIxN'E. 121 

his sin, for Christ's sake, and to bring him back 
home. Then he arose, and tried again to find 
the path. After he had walked a Httle, he heard 
the cow's bell ; then he saw her ; he knew in a 
minute it was his mother's cow. The cow 
went straight home, as she did every evening. 
And John followed her, and so got back. — 
Sunday School Friend. 


The Christian life is like a journey. The 
road lies through a wilderness. It is difficult, 
narrow, steep, and rugged ; intersected at every 
point with well-trodden paths, beautifully stud- 
ded with flowers, cooling brooks, and gurgling 
waterfalls, for the refreshment and repose of the 
weary traveller. No sooner has the unwary 
pilgrim set foot in these by-paths, than he loses 
sight of the straight and narrow way. For a 
while he wanders on, perhaps unconscious of 
his error, till suddenly the clouds gather black- 
ness ; the thunders peal, and the lightnings 
play over his head ; the serpents hiss, and his 
ears are stunned with the bowlings of savage 
beasts of prey. Terrified and affrighted, he 
turns to seek the " good old way." But alas ! 
he knows not whither to flee. He is enveloped 
in midnight darkness. He wanders farther 
still. Affrighted and wounded, he gives up in 
despair ; till at length, by the "kind hand of him 

122 THE child's magazine. 

who first directed his feet to the narrow way, 
he again finds himself at the entrance, to begin 
his journey anew. The traveller, entering 
upon such a journey, would rejoice to find 
some one who had passed that way before, 
and could point out to him its difficulties and 
dangers. We suppose this to be the case es- 
pecially with young people, who have recently 
entered upon this journey. We propose, 
therefore, to give them such hints as we sup- 
pose to be adapted to their circumstances and 
wants. We shall greatly rejoice if we may be 
able to afford any aid to those who have deter- 
mined to give the warmth and freshness of their 
early affections to the Saviour. We look on 
such young persons with delightful emotions ; 
and though we may not flatter them, yet we 
may say, we love them, because they have 
" chosen that better part, which shall not be 
taken from them." And O, why should they 
not choose it? Is not Jesus worthy of their 
first and best affections ? Who has such a 
claim upon the supreme devotion of their hearts ? 
Let them not, therefore, live unto themselves, 
but unto him who died and rose again, that 
they might live. 


I have read of many wicked popes ; but 
the worst pope I ever met with is Pope Self. 
— Johfi Newton. 

THE child's magazine. 123 


An important discovery has been made in 
Paris, if we may rely upon a statement in the 
Commercial. According to that, a Mr. Sorrel 
has found out a means by galvanizing iron to 
prevent its undergoing the process of oxidation. 
No description is given of this method, which 
seems to be a secret, but that a galvanized pow- 
der is employed. It is affirmed that the experi- 
ments of several members of the Society for the 
Encouragement of Art have fully confirmed the 
statements of M. Sorrel, and that there is a 
strong hope that his process may be applied to 
every species of iron employed in machinery or 
in the arts, however large, which it is desirable 
to preserve from rust. Cannon balls, and even 
the cannon themselves, may be preserved ; and 
a statement is made of the saving it would cause 
to the French government were only the can- 
non balls which rusted away in twenty years 
saved from the effects of the air. Watch springs 
and jewelry of polished steel are said to have 
remained perfectly bright though they were a 
long time immersed in water, saturated with a 
galvanic powder. The experiments of Sir H. 
Davy in preserving copper from the effects of 
salt water by galvanism are noticed, and those 
experiments give countenance to the statement 
that it may be possible by galvanism to guard 
iron from rust. 

124 THE child's magazinb. 

' From the Maryland Temperance Herald. 

E. Taylor, Esq., — I have often observed with 
sorrow that the poor drunkard's family have 
been unjustifiably neglected, and, although his 
wife may be ever so amiable, as soon as her 
husband becomes a drunkard, she and her chil- 
dren must be consigned over to infamy, and 
that too without a crime, when it should have 
been our pleasure to carry consolation and com- 
fort to this unfortunate family. Lately observ- 
ing something of this kind, the circumstance 
prompted the following lines, which, if you 
think worth publishing, please give them an in- 
sertion. Yours, truly, J. P. Coffin 

0, pity me lady, I'm hungry and cold ; 
Should I all my sorrows to you unfold, 
I'm sure your kind breast with compassion 

would flame. 
My father's a drunkard — but Fm not to hlame. 

My mother's consumptive, and soon will depart — 
Her sorrows and trials have broken her heart. 
My poor little sisters are starving ! O shame ! 
Our father's a drunkard — hut we're not to hlame. 

Time was we were happy, with plenty and peace, 
And every day saw our pleasures increase ; 
O, then with what kindness we lisp'd forth his 

name — 
But now he's a drunkard — yet, we're not to blame. 


Time was when each morning around the fire- 

Our sire in the midst like a saint would preside, 

And kneel, and for blessings would call on 
God's name — 

But now he's a drunkard — can we he to blame ? 

Our father then loved us, and all was delight, 

Until he partook of this withering blight, 

And sunk his poor family in misery and shame — 

yes, he's a dnmkard — hut we're not to hlame. 

Yet we must be censured and shunn'd by man- 
kind — 

Trodden down with contempt and to sorrow 

Our friends all forsake us and leave us ! O 
shame ! 

1 own he's a drunkard — but we're not to hlame. 

My poor dying mother, must she feel the scorn? 
Must she be forsaken, to perish forlorn ? 

grief! when I call on that affectionate name, 

1 might well ask the world — can that saint be to 

My sisters, poor orphans ! O, what have they 

done ? 
Why should you neglect them, or why will you 

Let not foul disgrace be attached to their 

name, — 
Though their father's a drunkard — they are not 

to blame. 


126 THE child's magazine. 


O thou, who dry'st the mourner's tear, 
How dark this world would be, 

If, when deceived and wounded here. 
We could not flee to thee ! 

The friends who in our sunshine live. 

When winter comes, are flown ; 
And he who has but tears to give. 

Must weep those tears alone. 

But thou wilt heal that broken heart, 
Which, like the plants, that throw 

Their fragrance from the wounded part, 
Breathes sweetness out of wo. 

When joy no longer soothes or cheers, 

And e'en the hope that threw 
A moment's sparkle o'er our tears. 

Is dimm'd and vanquish'd too — 

O, who would bear life's stormy doom. 

Did not thy wing of love 
Come brightly wafting through the gloom — 

Our peace-branch from above ! 

Then sorrow touch'd by thee grows bright, 

With more enraptured ray. 
As darkness shows us worlds of light 

We never saw by day. 





Anecdote 76 

Archbishop Fenelon, anecdote of - - 104 
Affliction, advantages of - - - 126 

JBoy and the Infidel - - - - 43 
Bible, the source of temporal comfort - 75 

Bear, the 81 

Cochin China ----- 5 

Children good listeners - - - - 29 

Child's morning song - - - - 79 

Coronation ------ 85 

Christian, for the young - - - 113 

Child, the lost 119 

Christian life, the 121 

Day 40 

Disciples on the sea - - - - 112 

Egyptian mummies - - - - 59 

Fragments, from the German - - - 19 
Faith ------- 63 

Fisherman's boy - - - - - 68 

Gospel, a nobleman preaching the - - 87 
Heavens, intellectual - - - - 46 

Ichneumon - - - - - -17 

Indians, American - - - - 47 

Lackington, James . - - - 6 

128 THE child's magazine VOL. XV. 


Ladies, the three Roman - - - 21 

Loungers, church •=■ - - - - 23 

Lightning - - - - - - 89 

Light - - . - - - - 115 

Lord's day, observance of the - - 116 

Morning hymn - - - - - 32 

Matthew Hale's rules - - - - 83 

Mind, purity of- - - - -78 

Nightingale's song - - - - 33 

Nature's teacher - - - - - 55 

Nature's homage - - - - - 94 

Negro affection 118 

Orphans, the - - - - - 13 

Orphan, the blind 28 

Pride — an extract 61 

Persian Gulf, fishing in the - - - 65 

Rice, culture of - - - - - 49 

Robin, the 62 

Religion a continual exercise - - 93 

Sunset thoughts - - - - - 16 

Sabbath-breaking makes Infidels - - 29 

Songs in the night - - - - 64 

Swearing, profane - - - - 71 

Sunday school - - - - - 80 

Trifles make perfection - - - - 12 

Trials 27 

Tyndall, WilUam 37 

Temperance admonitions - - - 46 

Tear of friendship - - - - 95 

Wanderer's return - - - - 72