in long glittering lines! Then are we led to exclaim with the Psalmist, "When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers; the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?"

Likewise, the winter season is varied by the brilliant coruscations of the northern lights, those unexplained wonders of the polar regions; and by "ice-times," when every tree and shrub, even to the smallest shoot, is encased in ice, glittering, with magical brightness and beauty, in the morning sun, like a scene of panoramic, or fairy land; showing us that nature, under the plastic hand of Deity, can, in a few hours, exceed the most gorgeous conceptions, and the longest exerted art of man; building herself a "crystal palace," with unnumbered millions of hanging lights, while men, for whom she thus adorns herself, sleep away the fatigue of a single day.

Indeed, he who has an eye open to the variety and beauty of winter, cannot fail to be impressed with the infinite resources of nature, bringing relief and delight out of the dreariness and death of the year.

All God's works praise him, and winter not least of all.

THE SABBATH.

AND when, with mingled sighs of love and fear,
His suppliant vows have wooed Jehovah's ear,
Serene the thoughts that o'er his bosom steal,
As home he wanders for the Sabbath meal;
There shall kind plenty wear her sweetest smiles;
There shall his rosy children play their wiles;
And there the meek-eyed mother muse and joy,
And court with frequent kiss her infant boy.
At noon a ramble round the burial-ground,
A moral tear on some lamented mound,
Or breezy walk along the green expanse,

Where summer beauty charms the lingering glance;
These are the wonted blessings of the day,
That all his weekly toils and woes repay.
And when aerial night hath veiled the dew,

Some elder boy beside his father's knee

Shall stand and read the holy history;

Or peaceful prayer, or chanted hymn, shall close
The hour that woos him to a sweet repose.

R. MONTGOMERY.

BE FRIENDLY.

BY REV. WM. C. WHITCOMB.

"There's naught on earth

More beautiful, or excellent, or fair,

Than face of faithful friend; fairest when seen
In darkest day. And many sounds are sweet,
Most ravishing and pleasant to the ear;

But sweeter none than voice of faithful friend."

No assertion has ever been made, by inspired or uninspired lips, more strongly corroborated by experience and observation, than this : "He who would have friends must show himself friendly." As much as to say, If a man would act merely on the self-interest principle of securing the friendship of others for its own sake, but especially if he would do so for the sake of disinterestedly promoting the good of the world, there is no surer or pleasanter way of accomplishing his object, than by cultivating a friendly disposition, and by cherishing and manifesting an affectionate interest in the welfare of all.

Friendship begets friendship. A little girl, when asked why everybody loved her, artlessly replied, "Because I love everybody." There is much of true philosophy in Tupper's "Proverbial Sayings," for instance, in the following:

"Those hours are not lost which are spent in cementing affection;

For a friend is above gold, precious as the stores of the mind.

There be some who never had a friend because they be gross and selfish;
But one who meriteth esteem need never lack a friend.

"How often in thy journeyings hast thou made thee instant friends;
Found, to be loved a little while, and lost, to meet no more;

Friends of happy reminiscence, although so transient in their converse,
Liberal, cheerful and sincere, a crowd of kindly traits.

I have sped by land and sea, and mingled with much people,

But never yet could find the spot unsunned by human kindness;

And a man may travel through the world and sow it thick with friendships."

Duty is herein conjoined with privilege. For, says the great teacher of our race, "Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness." And if we ought to be friendly to the unrighteous, and secure their friendship in return, how much more must this be

true respecting the righteous, who are to be loved with the love of complacency and approbation.

God, our heavenly Father, is the most friendly Being in all the universe. His friendship extends to every creature He has made. The best Friend is He, whom even the wicked have. He is

"The sinner's Friend,
But sin's eternal foe."

The works of creation, the indications of Providence, and the pages of inspiration, are full of evidences of his unbounded friendliness to the children of men, while his Son Jesus Christ, our Saviour, has proved himself to be "a Friend who sticketh closer than a brother." His is friendship which "many waters cannot quench, nor the floods drown." O, how desirable to square our lives by the heavenly pattern, the divine model, and warm our hearts by contact with such celestial fires as burn in the bosom of the Infinite!

Dear reader, it is your duty and mine, your privilege and mine, by the expression of friendliness and good-will, by cheerful looks and a loving spirit, to find favor with those with whom we mingle from day to day. "If our ways please the Lord, He maketh even our enemies to be at peace with us."

Numerous essays, poetical and prose, have been written on the sweets of friendship and the worth of true affection. But the interesting theme is by no means exhausted. The half hath never been, and never will be told. There are some pleasures which result from cultivating the intellect and storing the mind with useful knowledge; but pleasures and benefits greater by far result from the enlargement of the heart, and from the exercise and reciprocation of those friendly feelings recommended in this brief article.

66 O, tell me not

That every kindly look and tone of love

Is prompted by mere selfishness! 'Tis false.
I've wandered far and near, and ever found
Warm-hearted friends, with sympathy and aid
For every time of need, when not one thought
Of recompense impelled their kindness.
If our souls o'erflow with love to all,
We shall ever meet a generous welcome.
O, sacred, heavenly plant of human love!
How many fibres from its root have twined
Themselves around our inmost soul! Alas!

That these should e'er be torn away, and leave
Our bleeding hearts in agony to mourn!

Why should we meet, and then be forced to separate?
Shall loving hearts be doomed for aye to breathe
The parting sigh? to shed the bitter tears
Of deep regret, and bid the sad farewell?
There is a better land, thank God, where friends
Will meet to part no more; where every ray
Of friendship true, which hath been lent to cheer
Our way through this our earthly pilgrimage,
Shall be recalled to swell the light of heaven!"

A WORD TO MOTHERS.

BY MRS. M. J. M.

CHRISTIAN mother, are you ever sad? Almost discouraged by the trials of the way, do you sometimes feel that a mother's responsibilities are more than you can bear? As you have seen each child laid quietly at rest for the night, and, wearied with the cares and labors of the day, have laid your own head on your pillow, (and the dear little one at your side nestled closely to you, as if half conscious, even in its slumbers, that mother was near;) have you ever, at such a time, let busy and faithful memory go back and recall the scenes of the day? And then, has conscience brought to mind some, ay, it may be many an impatient word, or the indulgence of a wrong spirit toward your children? Have the bitter tears of repentance fallen at such times? And would you not have resolved to make greater effort to do right, if the thought of broken resolutions had not hindered you ? And have you not, almost in despair, felt that by your own short comings in duty you might be the cause of your children's destruction? Come, then, and let us mingle our sorrows, and together look to the "everlasting hills, whence cometh all our help." God is our all-sufficient aid. It is reliance on human power which makes thee so weak. You feel that you "cannot do your duty;" but what is his name who has promised to be righteousness, strength, and wisdom to his people? Is it not an Almighty arm on which you are invited to lean? Who has said, "Without me ye can do nothing?” Put your whole trust in God. Strive continually to feel that Christ is more than able to help you, and your feeble efforts will meet an abundant reward.

4

MUSIC COMPOSED FOR THIS WORK, BY S. HUBBARD.

Poetry from the German.

Beside the Stream of Tears with branches low, And bitter leaves the The branches flow, like the dishevelled

hair Of

women in the

region, and, be- hold, The ground is bright with blossoms manifold!

Where fall the tears of love the rose appears,
And where the moss is wet with friendship's tears,
Forget-me-not and violet, heavenly blue,
Spring, glittering with the cheerful drops like dew.

The souls of mourners, who no more shall weep,
Float, swanlike, down the current's gentle sweep,
Go up the sands that shine along its side,
And in the Paradise of Tears abide.