nothing seemed to go right with him. She persevered in her endeavors to please him, until her tears would flow, in spite of all her exertions to repress them. With an almost breaking heart she arose to leave the room, saying to herself, "What shall I do with this boy? Must I give up? O, thou God of mercy, come to my aid, I entreat thee!" At this moment the Mother's Assistant was brought in. Without even looking at it, she told her little girl to carry it to her brother; he had looked over some of the numbers with apparent interest, and she thought it might, perchance, amuse him for a moment. He took the book, and eagerly cut open the leaves; the first article he looked at was "Harry Beach," by Mrs. S. S. Allen. He commenced reading it, and read it carefully through; then he went back to the beginning, and read it again. "Mother!" exclaimed the little girl, as she rushed into the kitchen, "mother, do go and see what ails brother! " "What does ail him, dear?" said the mother, thinking, perhaps, he might be ill. "He is crying," said the child; "he reads that book, cries on it, and it is all wet." This was said in the simplicity of childhood; but the words fell upon her heart with thrilling power. Hope sprang up in her bosom once more, and she thanked God for the grace which enabled her to persevere. When she again entered her son's room, she carried him his supper; he looked up, and, with eyes swimming in tears, said, "Mother, I thank you!" More he could not say; tears stopped his utterance. She burst into tears, and threw herself upon her knees beside him. He clasped his arms around her neck, and sobbed out, "Can you forgive me, mother?" It was long before she could command her voice; and then she exclaimed, "O Lord, I thank thee for this hour! Many months have gone by since this affecting scene transpired; but as yet all is quiet, gentle, and harmonious in Mr. B.'s household. The warring elements are hushed to peace, and discord is now unknown in that happy family. A few weeks after this event, Mrs. B. says, in a letter to a friend, "O, help me to praise the Lord for his mercy to my children. Last Sabbath, for the first time since my marriage, they all went with us to the house of God, and a happy family we were, I assure you. James has just obtained a hope, after a long season of conviction, and I believe that Edward, too, is a Christian, but he does not indulge a hope. Sometimes he is almost in despair. His health is yet delicate. I hope, as his strength returns, light will break in upon his mind. I dare not encourage him, for he reads his Bible a great part of the time, and I think the spirit of truth will guide him aright. I am truly grateful for the aid I have derived from the Mother's Assistant. My children take great pleasure in reading it. Sometimes, when I have supposed they were out at play, I have come upon them suddenly, seated together in some corner, reading those interesting pages. One article, in particular, they read with great delight. It is the Pastor's New Year's Salutation to his Flock, by Rev. Edward F. Cutter. If I could see that gentleman, I would thank him for writing that article. "Come to me, my friend, and see what a change there is in my family. In view of it, I can only exclaim, 'What hath God wrought!" " VIRTUE. BY REV. E. P. DYER. "Add to your faith Virtue." VIRTUE is the modest blush, Maiden cheeks suffusing, When pure thoughts indignant rush, Virtue seeks not to be seen, Though so pure and holy. Virtue is the spouse of Faith; Bring forth fruits which even death Has no power of blighting. Virtue is true godly fear, Sweetest of those graces, Which, like stars in yonder sphere, Gild their separate places. Virtue is the Christian's crown, When, his sins forgiven, He his mortal life lays down, And awakes in Heaven. MASTER BENJAMIN PIERCE. BY REV. HENRY E. PARKER. "Egregium forma juvenem : Sed nox atra caput tristi circumvolat umbra. Heu miserande puer ! siqua Fata aspera rumpas, VIRGIL. "Suffer little children to come unto me, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven." JESUS CHRIST. How often does the reader of the ancient classics and of the Bible notice very striking contrasts between the selectest views and ethics of heathenism and the disclosures and sentiments of the Gospel. Especially is such contrast visible in what each presents pertaining to man's spiritual nature and his immortality; and there are none, perhaps, more striking than those which relate to children; their nurture while living, and their destiny, if numbered among the early dead. This contrast is very forcibly presented in the quotations we have placed above; those beautiful lines from the bard of Mantua; those blessed words from the Prophet of Nazareth. The young Marcellus, whom the poet bewails, heir to Augustus, the favorite of the imperial court, the darling of all the Romans, was as happy a specimen as could be found of childhood's excellence under the choicest heathen culture; and the choicest culture of heathen genius sings his eulogy. The strains make allusion to the education the royal boy received; to the great prospects before him; and to the large hopes and assurances he had inspired. That education was for arms and for rule; to give him power over the hearts of his future subjects, and a capacity to sustain and extend the imperial sway; those prospects and hopes were limited entirely to his anticipated earthly position. Precluded by his early death from all earthly eminence, for him the poet has nothing further to offer of hope or good; all his genius and culture do not even attempt to throw one ray of light into the sad sepulchre; they can consign the departed to sullen Charon and gloomy Acheron, but send back no comforter. The poet can say no more than "hadst thou lived thou wouldst have been a Marcellus, full worthy of the honored parental name; but now, wretched, ill-starred child, all has been blasted by the inexorable Fates; and even the praises which we bring, the flowers which admiration and affection scatter upon thy grave, are all a bootless task." No wonder, that, as the bard finished his strain in presence of Augustus and his empress, who listened to its recital, that Octavia swooned at such sad reminiscences of her beautiful and beloved boy, so untimely taken, with not one gleam of a glory beyond the grave. The only wonder is, how any heathen mother, of sensitiveness and affection, ever herself survived, when bereaved of her children. The lines of Virgil concerning the young Marcellus have a very happy appropriateness when applied to the appearance, character, prospects and promise of the dearly lamented lad whose name is at the head of this article; but the words of Jesus also have an especial applicableness, and suggest the chief delight and comfort friends have concerning him. The terrible casualty at Andover last December, which removed him from the embrace of his fond parents, touched the hearts of this nation in a peculiar manner, and parents and children have everywhere been interested in any information which could be given concerning the noble boy so mysteriously taken. Young Benjamin Pierce (Benny, as we familiarly called him), named for his grandfather, an officer in the Revolution, and subsequently governor of New Hampshire, was the second son of President Pierce, but for many years before his death an only child; his elder brother, Frank Robert, a very beautiful boy and of great promise, having died in 1843. Benjamin was born in 1841, and was but eleven years of age at the time of his death. In personal appearance, he was of light and slender frame, and rather taller than most lads of his age. His remarkably fine head, and fair, handsome face, would attract any observer. He had the same speaking countenance, winning mien, and frank and open bearing which are so characteristic of his father. But he reminded most, perhaps, of his mother, in the large, expressive eye, the chiselled features, their paleness, and those general indi cations of an apparently frail constitution. He reminded me of that exquisite flower (sanguinaria Canadensis) which may be found at this season by the woodside and in the corners of our pastures, a flower of very short duration. Though loving Benjamin so much, yet it was often with a degree of pain that I looked upon him, thinking that probably his parents' hearts were to be lacerated by his early death. "A something shadowy and frail Was even in his mirth; He looked a flower, which one rough gale Might bear away from earth." Just, however, at the time of his removal, his appearance had assumed a ruddiness and robustness that were new to him. In intellect he had more vigor, naturally, than belonged to the body. He had a mind that promised to mature well; bright, inquiring, intelligent, and advancing successfully under the ordinary advantages of instruction afforded by our New England schools, seconded and superintended by his mother's attentions at home. In character, though not a faultless child, and in many respects a boy like other boys, yet he was different in some respects, well worthy the attention and imitation of the youth who may read this sketch. He was a boy of rare politeness. This was evinced in his general deportment; in every message he bore from his parents to others, and in all his approaches to older people, they were never pained and offended by the rudeness so common to boys. Long shall I miss the respectful recognition, the hand lifted to his cap, the invariable bow, and his courteous salutation as I met him from day to day. He was a very considerate boy. have been the polite boy he was. Indeed, otherwise he could not This was one of the most interest ing features of his politeness; his regard for others, and what was due to them. There are many interesting incidents treasured in the family with whom his parents and himself were boarders, illustrative of Benny's considerateness; his efforts to make himself agreeable and actually useful in the family, to avoid everything like presuming, or which would make inconvenience and trouble, or add to others' care and work. He was a dutiful boy, addressing his parents respectfully when in their presence, and never speaking disrespectfully of them when out |