"Present a patient and courageous breast to the poisoned arrows of life; without weakness or defiance go on thy way."

Any influence for evil or for good, cannot be confined to this world of change and death; even the "word fitly spoken" leaves its impress upon the soul, after death has set his icy seal upon the lip which breathed it, and hushed the gentle voice in his silent land.

A strain of some loved melody, a word, a look, or Nature's unwritten music, "touches the electric chain with which we are darkly bound," and, in a moment, we are carried mournfully, though sweetly, into the past. Again we hear the murmuring of the stream which sparkled in the sunshine, just by the door of the dear old homestead, and the music of the bee amid the woodbine's clustering foliage. Old familiar faces pass before us; eyes long ago dim in death gaze lovingly into our own, while, as in a dream, we give and receive glad greetings from these spirit visitants. Ah, blessed Memory! speak often to our weary hearts these "kind words" of the loved and unforgotten; and if, as child, sister, or friend, we have ever caused a sorrow to the heart of parent, brother or companion, now cold and still-ah! then, thrice blessed Memory! let every ungentle word come thronging back and "be heard knocking at the door of the soul," that our tears may not be unavailing; but that, morning and evening and at noon, the voice and words may be gentle when we speak to those beloved ones whom our Father hath given us.

It is in the domestic circle, especially, that gentle words control the heart by a tender and subduing power. Speak gently then, dear reader, if you would have a holy influence associated with your memory, if you would win those you love to the heaven you hope to enter.

Mothers! speak gently to those who gladden your heart and home; let no harsh, impatient word find its way to the sanctuary of home. Sister! let your words be kind to the companions of your childhood and youth. The time cometh soon when change and death will separate you; but let the chain of affection be bright which connects you with the

past. Your young and happy brothers will soon step out alone upon the stage of life. O let them carry fresh in their "heart of hearts" sweet memories of a sister's gentle words and kindly teachings! There are few better safeguards from temptation, save the grace of God. And the poor and sadhearted, and those whose feet have wandered away from the path of virtue, how shall we speak to them? Gently, O gently let it be! Let love and pity send their prayer upward through the clouds of sin and ignorance which darken our beautiful earth! But, thanks to our Father! "not wholly lost is this evil world of ours, for upward through its blood and ashes bloom afresh the Eden flowers."

WARMTH OF AFFECTION TOWARD CHILDREN.

THERE is a good deal of truth in the following extract on the manner of treating children. Many persons suppose it necessary to preserve toward the young in their families, an aspect of dignity and coldness; thus, as they imagine, repelling undue liberties, familiarity or disobedience. But really one gets more from a child by developing his affections, of which all children have an ample store, but they often remain hidden:

"Above all mistakes is that of supposing, that the better nature of the child is to be drawn out and raised into the strength which we should desire to see in the man, by making him pass through a cold and cheerless youth. The very contrary is the case. A system of petty restraints and privations, of severe looks and incessant chidings, only results in depraving the feeling and perverting the reason of a young person. He is, in such circumstances, entirely out of harmony with nature. He is like a flower, which requires light and warmth, placed in a cold cellar, where it never can acquire its proper proportions, or color, or vigor. It is quite impossible, that a child so treated can ever attain to the proper characteristics of a well constituted man or woman."

THIS branch of natural science treats of the feathered tribe. The symmetry of form, the beauty of colors, the adaptation of structure which fit birds to their peculiar modes of living, constitute sources of admiration to the student of nature.

In order to render them buoyant, and assist respiration during the rapidity of flight, their lungs are placed against the ribs and enveloped by a membrane pierced with holes, which conduct the air into cavities of the body, and even into the bones. Their sight is very acute, and is equally adapted to distinguish near and distant objects. It is only nocturnal birds who have an external ear. The internal ear is, however, large, and the sense of hearing exceedingly quick. The musical powers which are so remarkable, belong only to the male. The seasons of migration, when most birds remove from one place of residence to another, are observed with wonderful accuracy. Hence the prophet says: The stork in the heaven knoweth her appointed times; the turtle, the crane and the swallow observe the time of their coming; but my people know not the judgment of the Lord.

Christ would have us learn from them a lesson of trust in the divine providence. Behold, says he, the fowls of the air; they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, and yet your Heavenly Father feedeth them.

THE FATHER'S VETO.

EDITORIAL.

THE family is often compared to a kingdom, and the father of the family to a king. Both Nature and Revelation suggest this comparison; and they alike sustain the absolute authority, in many important particulars, of the father. His will is often law, and from his word there can be, at times, no appeal. Neither wife nor friend can reverse his firm decision, and the child must abide his judgment. Whilst such authority results from the paternal relation, the father needs no ordinary measure of wisdom to exercise it with safety, and especially in those instances when the judgment of the wife and mother may conflict with his own. There may be seasons in the administration of the affairs of the household, when the mother's course in regard to the child is unwise, and when her indulgence is untimely and portentous of evil to the being who is the cherished object of love of each of the parents. At these seasons, the father may feel invoked by all the sacredness of his paternal responsibility to interpose, and divert the child from the course directed by maternal feeling. When placed in such circumstances, the father is bound to pause long before he acts, and most diligently to inquire, if in reality the course of the mother be wrong, and if the child would be slightly or essentially injured should such maternal course be unresisted and undisturbed. The mother, it must be remembered, has an equal interest in the child with the father, and that she is as much inclined as he to bring to her aid, in the course she adopts in regard to this being of their common affection, considerate judgment and mature deliberation. The father must remember that the mother would not, on any consideration, direct or indulge the child to his hurt, and that her liability thus to do, is not, in any wise, greater than his own. When, therefore, he is moved to the exercise of his special interposition in arresting the child from the path marked out for him by the mother, he should ever exercise the veto power with which he is

intrusted with the greatest self-distrust; for he must know, that the necessity of such veto but very seldom occurs. Very generally, the mother, in her judgment of things proper for the child, and of the course which it would be safe for the child to pursue, is as correct as the father. When the father is, however, compelled to dissent from the mother, with a slow and most self-distrusting feeling should he proceed. Never should he thus do in the exercise of passion or caprice, and never should the child know that the father had interposed, and that such interposition was the reason why the the mother's course had been changed. To preserve him in ignorance of this, let the father's voice be hushed before the child, and let the mother herself be allowed to speak, and alter the course which she has prescribed. If this be done, the mother's dignity is saved, and nothing appears by which her authority is weakened, or in the least impaired.

If the child be aware that the authority of the mother is disturbed by the father, and that she is dependent for this authority on his will, the feeling of insubordination to the mother is at once excited, her government is paralyzed, and she is reduced to a level with one whom God and nature and the best interests of the family demand should be under her control. The father, too, eventually suffers from this course, for the child soon learns the instructions of the great Creator of all in relation to parental authority, that both father and mother are to be obeyed; and if the mother's authority be set aside by the father, the father's power is ere long demolished by the child, and there is recklessness around the domestic fireside, which will increase and strengthen to despoil the family of its beauty, and make it the scene of frequent turmoil, and, at length, of perfect wretchedness.

To save the family from such ruin, let the authority of both parents be unimpaired. Never let the child know that the mother's power can be annihilated by the father's will. Never let it be apparent to the child that there is disunion in parental control, and never let the knowledge of the father's veto on any of the mother's precepts come to the ears of the child.