from all. No poet ever had a more brilliant fancy, no philosopher busier thoughts! It can create to itself an ocean from a cup of water, a ship from a bit of straw, and summon out of bits of paper, or out of nothing, men and women, kings and queens, to obey its commands and contribute to its amusements. It is planning, contriving, and enjoying all day long. With all this, God has placed it in His own school of providence; and in ten thousand ways, too many to number, and too deep to understand, He is educating this babe, and teaching it lessons innumerable. No doubt, a very wise and judicious parent can, from its earliest dawn, help to mould it gently and lovingly into many good habits, such as patience, obedience, kindness, &c. But this requires such tact and fine handling that few are fit for it. As a rule, I believe more harm will be done than good by attempting to apply any system of pruning and training to so tender a plant. If you must give it something, confine your generosity to wholesome plain food from your hand, love in abundance from your heart, with as much light, liberty, and air as every day beneath God's sky can afford; and it will educate itself better than you can do. Let these conditions be fulfilled as far as possible, even in one of our vile and horrid streets and lanes, and the child will thrive better in soul and body, than when confined like a hot-house plant in a splendid mansion, pampered with luxuries, or teazed and fretted all day long by some injudicious, vain, or sour-tempered parent or teacher, who insists on training them up to become wonderfully clever or wonderfully well-behaved. Watch, control, lead, mould your children from infancy if you will, but, oh! let them be free and joyous ! "Check not a child in his merriment. Should not his morning be sunny?" Let them skip like the lambs on the hill-side, and sing all day long like the larks overhead in the sky! Let them be happy! and the light of their morning will make their day more bright, and leave some golden touches on the clouds that may gather round them at evening! And here I cannot but express my sympathy with those Christian parents who are compelled to live in the miserable tenements which crowd the lanes and closes of our cities. It is not possible to conceive, in a civilized or Christian land, worse circumstances for the right upbringing of the young than those in which numbers of our respectable artizans are placed. The house is small and confined, because property is valuable and rents are exorbitant. There is little light and little air, order is hardly possible, cleanliness difficult, taste out of the question. All that meets the eye without is still more uncongenial. The common stair is coated with the mud of the crowded inhabitants of the various flats to which it leads. The street or lane is wet or dusty, and always filthy. The lark in the cage has some grass beneath his feet; but the children have none for theirs. The air is loaded with smoke and smells of every description, from what is contributed by the kennel below up to the tall chimney which vomits its vapours and black stream above. The blue sky is seldom seen in the narrow interval of roofs overhead or through the canopy of smoke. Is this a home in which to enjoy life and rear a family? Then again, any home is, in most cases, uncertain to the city workman. No attachment can be formed to its walls, such as even a prisoner forms, after years of confinement, to his cell; for he may have to quit them in a week. No attachment can be formed to its neighbourhood or its neighbours, for these are ever changing. The workman must follow his work, and if that fails in one place he must seek it in another. And thus, as the Arab, who has to move his tent when the pasture is consumed, requires to have such a tent as is easily and rapidly moved; so, many of our workmen hire their house from month to month; never burthen themselves but with the scantiest supply of furniture; and wander hither and thither, from street to street, from city to city, having no feeling of rest or home anywhere, and strangers everywhere. Schools, churches, neighbours, employers, are never two years the same. Why do I mention such things here? To awaken, bringing of immortal souls; and that such proprietors must have a care how, for mere money or convenience, a spot so sacred is emptied of its old inmates, or how they are treated when within its walls. If ever our home education is to be improved among the worst classes of the community, we must improve the while homes in which it is to be afforded; all classes would do well to remember how much, in every case, home education depends on the health and happiness of the children, which again are so much connected with a well-aired, clean, and cheerfully situated home. sympathy with the difficulties which many of our working classes have to contend against; to make those who take an interest in them see what an important bearing steady work, and a fixed and comfortable home, have upon the education and character of our population; to turn the attention of every reader to the consideration of whatever feasible plan is proposed for combining the freedom and independence of the country with the social advantages of the town to the workman; to make intelligent artizans careful what home they select, in which to rear their precious offspring to good and to happiness; to implore every man to whom God has given the unspeakable blessing of a home among the green fields, and the sunny skies, and cheerful scenes of our beautiful country, to beware how he lightly gives it up and exchanges it for a filthy village, or a den in some dark corner of our crowded cities; and, finally, to remind landlords, in town and country, that God has laid few more solemn responsibilities upon a man, than the power of assigning a home for the up "For character groweth day by day, and all things aid it in unfolding; And the bent unto good or evil may be given in the hours of infancy Scratch the green rind of a sapling, or wantonly twist it in the soil, The scarred and crooked oak will tell of thee for centuries to come; Even so may'st thou guide the mind to good, or lead it to the marrings of evil, For disposition is builded up by the fashioning of first impressions- Wherefore, tho' the voice of instruction waiteth for the ear of reason, Yet with his mother's milk the young child drinketh Education." ON THE ELEMENTS OF FAMILY HAPPINESS. "BEHOLD, how good and pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity! It is like the precious ointment that ran down unto the beard, even Aaron's beard; that went down unto the skirts of his garment." We have in these words high authority for the value of family bappiness. May they not also imply something of its rarity? That Christianity has greatly bettered our domestic condition, is too commonly admitted to require discussion. The individual Christianity of each member of a family must go farther still, to ensure the happiness of the whole; but that it does not always, nor perfectly ensure it, experience compels us to allow. It is a sad fact, but none the less a fact, that religious people do not always get on together very smoothly. The truth is, while there can be no solid happiness, no sincere confidence, without a firm basis of good principle and good intentions, it is very possible for people with the very best intentions to make each other very uncomfortable; and the well-being of our social existence depends less on the principles, than on the habits of our friends. We often offend others rather by our foibles than by our faults. This may apply also to affection. It is a common idea, that if we really love each other, all must go well. Now, we do not seek to draw affection from her cornerseat by the hearth. Where love is not, happiness must be wanting. We may find there all the polished refinement of high breeding-all the courteous amenities of social intercourse; but no true happiness. Still, love is not enough. Many families, whose members love each next-that quality by which we know other very tenderly, seldom get through the day without a quarrel. We must have yet other, if humbler, ingredients in the cup of family happiness. Good temper is one of the first. What endless troubles spring from temper! The jealous temper, the selfish temper, the unreasonable, peevish, sullen, or selfsufficient temper-how many heads this hydra has-we had almost said, that a bad temper causes more unhappiness than a bad heart. And what a blessing even one good temper is in a house! One who is always ready to do what she is asked or bidden, at the time and in the way required; one whose dignity is not always prepared to resent neglect to claims of its own imagining; one whom you can tell of your pleasures without the fear of jealous detraction, or of your weaknesses, without the dread of being afterwards taunted with them; one who always leaves you hopeful and cheery. When we see how much sunshine is brought into a house by one such bright unselfish temper, we may form some idea of what happiness there would be in families if all took heed to their tempers. As it is not so, we would recommend mutual forbearance. If there were less vapouring after sympathy for ourselves, and more endeavour to sympathize with others, we should be happier. If their habits and tastes are not to our liking, we may conclude that ours do not exactly suit their liking. Let us make the best of the matter as it stands. Above all, let us leave each other's opinions alone. We shall never make every one think in all things as we do; and the fine edge of happiness, perhaps even of affection, may be destroyed in constant discussions which at least look like disputes, We would say, in passing, that courtesy is too little regarded in the home circle. Loving a friend "better than any one in the world," is no good reason for speaking very impertinent truths to him, or taking very impertinent liberties with him. Good sense, discretion, tact, is the best name for that of which we would speak exactly what it is best to say and do at the present moment,-the genius of everyday life. Not that we would exclude any form of talent. We are not of those who think clever people must be disagreeable, or who would confine happiness within the bounds of prosy mediocrity. Far from it; so that affection fills, good sense mixes, good temper sweetens, and religion blesses the cup, we rejoice to see it coloured by imagination, and sparkling with wit. The more intelligence, learning, and accomplishments, the better, if these contribute, in the first place, to the sum of family enjoyment. We would mention one thing moreorder. If a family would be happy, every member must have a distinct place, and must keep it.. There must be no jostling aside, no disregard of due authority, and, above all, the egotistical vanity must be suppressed which is so subversive of all order and happiness by exaggerating the claims of self and overlooking those of others. Punctuality comes under this head. It sounds a trifle, but when onehalf of a family always make the other half wait for everything-when the younger members lounge down to breakfast after prayers, or drop in to dinner when the grace is said—even should this habit not be the source of perpetual remonstrance, on the one hand, and disobedience, not to say impertinence, on the other, it must greatly tend to destroy the spirit of order, which is one element of unity and happiness. We have many Let us not leave the subject with a sigh of despondency, with a secret feeling, that there is no family happiness. Thank God! it is not so. bright glimpses of it here, though here we enjoy it not in perfection. And let us bear in mind, that our family relationships are only hallowed and happy in so far as they shadow forth, however faintly, the relationships and joys of a higher state; and that we shall then know what family happiness really is, when, renewed by the Spirit of love and peace, as co-heirs with our Elder Brother, we take our place in the glorified family of our Father in heaven. C. M. THE FIRST SABBATH SCHOOL. Ir is both a profitable and interesting study to trace the development of the life of the Church from age to age. While the Word ever remains the same, while divine truth is absolutely immutable, the life implanted by divine revelation is a progressive one. The same truth may present itself to us in differ. ent aspects, or we may discover phases that are new to us; but it still retains its permanence, and the apparent development is only in reference to our mode of viewing it. The prism refracts light into its component colours, but it is still the same light, though seen under different hues; the prism can create no new property of light, it only exhibits those that have been hitherto latent. The human mind, when applied to divine truth, in like manner, may elicit new bearings and new shades of meaning, but the material of divine truth suffers no change by the process. The chemist, by arefined analysis, discovers wondrous pro--the objective truth not being received perties in bodies with which we were long familiar, but no new property is imparted to these bodies by the discovery; they all along possessed them, though hid from our view. By critical analysis we may, in like manner, elicit new meanings, and discover new bearings of doctrines in dealings with sacred text; but the system of divine truth, as revealed, was complete from the beginning, and the progress has not been in any self-developing power of the divine Word, but in the advance of our own intellect. into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature," be so long unheeded, even by a Church fully awakened to the grand vital points of Christianity? To this we can only answer, that there is a progress in the spiritual life of a Church, as well as in the individual Christian. How is it with the individual? Is it not the case that he may be long intellectually acquainted with some truth which has never touched the active springs of his being, but suddenly the value of the truth flashes upon him with the clearness of intuition and the force of a divine command? In reading our favourite authors, we often glide over passages which do not arrest our thoughts for a moment; but these very thoughts, when we take up the book at some future period, may startle and arrest us by the bright glimpses of truth they flash into our inner being. This can only be explained by a progress in our own being While it is all-important to recognize the fixed and stable character of divine revelation, it is equally important that we should look for a growth in the life of the Church. We have an illustration of this in the case of missions. It does appear strange that the conscience of the Church, and even of the Protestant Church, should remain so long unawakened to the call of the heathen. How could the sacred page be read without finding the duty of missions clearly inculcated? How could the great command, "Go ye into the depths of our soul till there is an inward preparation for it. The Word is the good seed to be sown in the soil of our heart; but seeds will not grow luxuriantly except in soil adapted to them. Seeds that will now fall in the soil only to wither and die, will, when the ground is suitably prepared, spring up with rapid and vigorous growth. It was thus with the Church; the missionary duty was not felt till about the close of last century, when the mandate to preach the Gospel to every creature came, as a new revelation from Heaven, on the awakening Church. As bearing out the spiritual unity of a Church, and the growth of its spiritual sensibilities, just as in the individual Christian, we may point to the distinctive features of the various Christian Churches at the present day. We shall find that each Church has its own type of piety, though there are the common features of Christianity underlying them all. The piety of the Church of England differs, in some respects, from that of the Methodists from both; and this is a proof of itself that Churches, as to spiritual life, have their individuality as well as the individual Christian. Church of Scotland, and the piety of the God in his day. The interest attached to this catechism consists in the fact, that it was compiled for the use of a Sabbath school, many years before the date usually assigned to the origin of Sabbath schools. It was in the year 1757 that he commenced his school, that is, twenty-four years before Mr. Raikes commenced his in Gloucester. Mr. Morison was a native of the county of Kinross, and studied divinity under Mr. Moncrieffe, minister of Abernethy, one of the four ministers who first seceded from the Church of Scotland. He was, shortly after license, called to the Presbyterian church at Norham. He continued there till the end of his days; and after a long and zealous ministry of sixty-eight years, he fell asleep in Jesus, with the words upon his lips: "Lord, deal bountifully with thy servant!" But not only is the life of the Church susceptible of development, the same holds in regard to Church organization and machinery. We find in tracing the chain of animal life, from the lowest forms to the highest, that for every addition of new instinct or capacity, there is a corresponding development in the animal organization. The higher the intelligence, the more refined is the apparatus by which that intelligence may be exhibited. In like manner, every development of the spiritual life of the Church necessitates a like development in the ecclesiastical organization through which the life may be manifested. A Church may remain true to its type, and yet be susceptible of this development. Indeed, we would regard it as the strongest proof of a Church being constructed after a scriptural model, that it is susceptible of this adaptation to the growing life of the Church. The Sabbath school ought to be regarded as a development of the organization of the Church, just as much as the missionary spirit is to be regarded as a development of the life of the Church; and they may both be traced very much to the same period and the same source. The larger our experience of the benefits of the Sabbath school becomes, the more are we convinced that it is no longer to be considered as a mere appendage to our Church organization, which may be dispensed with or not, as the humour suits, but that it must henceforth be regarded as an essential element of that organization; and we hope to see the day when a minister would as soon think of giving up preaching, as giving up his Sabbath school. We have been led to these reflections by accidentally meeting with a catechism by the Rev. David Morison, who was minister of Norham about the middle of last century. It was put into our hands by a descendant, who fondly cherished it as a memorial of one highly honoured of We do not, in signalizing the services of Mr. Morison, mean to dispute the claims of Mr. Raikes as the founder of Sabbath schools. Our only object is to direct attention to the early history of an institution which is characteristic of the times in which we live, and which, we have no doubt, is destined to tell, more powerfully than it has yet done, on the life of the Church of God. Raikes is the founder, inasmuch as the subsequent extension of the institution can be traced to his early efforts. The present movement can be proved to be direct sequence from the impulse communicated by him. He was favourably circumstanced for continuing the movement which he commenced, and preventing it from dying out, as a meteor flash in the heavens. He was editor of a newspaper, and, in the exercise of his functions, shewed how a sanctified press may prove the most powerful auxiliary to the Church of God. He was soon brought in contact with that noble band of philanthropists, to whom the missionary movement may also be traced, I mean the philanthropists known by the name of the Clapham sect, and of which the more active members were Wilberforce and Thornton. They saw how admirably adapted the Sabbath school was to the growing life of the Church and the wants of the times. They lent a helping hand, and soon the |