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worth, exist unknown, and are never called forth to adorn human nature, and to bless and save mankind. Shall not an effort now be made to bring into action all the available intellect and piety in the country?

“What immense tides of immortal life are to sweep over this country into the gulf of eternity ? We are called to think and to act on a grander scale than ever fell to the lot of man! We are the representatives of millions. We are acting for masses of human beings. To live simply as isolated beings is a great error, and a serious injustice to posterity. We must set those great wheels in motion, which, in their revolution, are to spread light, and life, and joy, through the land.

“We must take no middle ground. We must bring to the great work of illuminating this country, and of blessing mankind, every capability of mind and of heart which we possess, every possibility of the power which God has given us.”

For the Mother's Magazine.


A little boy, about six years old, was permitted to visit in the family of his uncle, who was a man of prayer. While there, he heard his uncle pray, and ask a blessing at his table. This was all new to the child. On returning home, he said to his mother, “Why does not pa sing, as uncle does? Uncle sings when he comes to the table, and when he has done eating he sings again. Mama, wont pa sing?The little boy did not know by what other name to call prayer.

He then turned to his father, and said, affectionately, “Wont you sing? Uncle sings; wont you, pa?” The father was pricked to the heart. This was loud preaching to one who never prayed.

Soon after this occurred, I was called to labor in a revival of religion in the northern district of Oneida county, in the immediate neighborhood of this family. One day, while conversing with a family in a log house, this same father came in and seated himself with the little group, who were listening to the gospel plan of salvation. I inquired of the stranger if he had a hope that he was a Christian. He replied that he had not, but expressed some feeling on the subject. After some further conversation with him, I warned him of his danger, and pressed upon his conscience the claims of the gospel, and urged him to come to an immediate decision, believing this to be my duty, as I never expected to see him again till we should meet at the judgment.

By my request he attended meeting in the evening, and solicited the prayers of Christians. A few days after this he was hopefully converted. The next evening his wife hoped she gave her heart to Christ. Family prayer was immediately commenced, and at first the little boy kept his seat. The next time prayer was made in the family, he knelt with his parents without being requested. Now this father and mother could sing together with their little son, who formerly urged them to sing as his uncle did. It was with much emotion that this fact was related to me by the father after his conversion. Utica, 1333.

E. B.

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O'er wayward childhood wouldst thou bear firm rule,
And sun thee in the light of happy faces,
Love, Hope, and Patience, these must be thy graces,
And in thine own heart let them first keep school.
For, as old Atlas on his broad neck places
Heaven's starry globe, and there sustains it, so
Do these uprear the little world below,
Of Education; PATIENCE, Love, and Hope.
Oh! part them never! If Hope prostrate lie,

Love loo will sink and die.
But Love is subtle, and will proof derive,
From her own life, that Hope is still alive;
And bending o'er with soul transfusing eyes,
And the soft murmurs of the mother dove,
Woos back the fleeting spirit, and half supplies;
Thus Love repays to Hope what Hope first gave to Love.

Yet haply there will come a weary day

When overtasked at length,
Both Love and Hope beneath the load give way;
Then, with a statue's smile, a statue's strength,
Stands the mute sister, Patience, nothing loth,
And both supporting, does the work of both.


For the Mother's Magazine.


BY K. B.

Who watches o'er the bed of pain,

And soothes the feverish pillow; And when the clouds of care remain, Can still the angry billow?

And when the sun hath veil'd its beams,

Or lost its pristine beauty,
Whose heart is that where virtue gleams
In rays of love and duty ?

A Mother's.
When all the scenes of life do fail,

And every hope's departed, Whose tongue is it that cannot rail Upon the broken hearted ?

Who turns aside the shaft of woe;

Attends the bed of sickness?
And when the tears of sorrow flow,
Supports the frame of weakness?


When every cloud is dark and drear,

And o’er each hope reposing; Who watches with an angel's tear, As the dark vail is closing?

A MOTHER Whose love is that no storm can blast,

Or tear it from its dwelling? Whose heart is that that dies the last, When misery's tide is swelling?

Who prays for us in every breath,

That we may be forgiven?
Who watches at the couch of death,
With eyes upturned to heaven?

Whose voice is that that's ever kind;

Whose breath is ever healing? Whose image dwelleth in the mind, A thousand joys revealing?


A man who gives his children a habit of industry, provides for them better than by giving them a stock of money.

An infallible way to make your child miserable, is to satisfy all his demands. Passion swells by gratification; and the impossibility of satisfying every one of his desires will oblige you to stop short at last, after he has become headstrong.

Let your conduct be the result of deliberation, never of impatience.

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In a preceding number of the Mother's Magazine, it was attempted to be shown that the exercise of sanctified maternal influence is intimately connected with the everlasting welfare of children, considered as candidates for the retributions of eternity, and connected also with the prosperity of the church in all time to come; as upon them is ultimately to rest the desence of the gospel against any and every assault which infidelity may make upon it.

By some this may be thought to be taking strong ground. It is granted. But strong as it may appear, it is tenable, and a position deemed of so much importance, that it must not be lightly surrendered. Mothers have never yet realized, to any adequate extent, what a power God has placed in their hands; what a fearful obligation he has imposed upon them; what an amountof good, with the promised aid of the Holy Spirit, they may accomplish. The world has slept upon this subject. True, a few like Mrs. Hannah More, Mrs. Graham, and some sister spirits, with several of the other sex, have appeared to feel the importance of the subject, and have occasionally attempted to obtain a hearing; but how few have heard, and fewer still have felt and practiced. But whatever apathy has been indulged, there is scarcely, at the present time, a subject which can be named, of more vital importance to the church of God, to the interests of mankind, than this. Ministers may preach the unadulterated truths of the gospel; they may urge sinners to repentance, and Christians to a holy life, and to zeal in the great and noble work of spreading abroad the glad tidings of salvation; they may come forth in the flowing eloquence of Cicero, and bear down in the vehement strains of Deniosthenes; they may be fired with the zeal of Peter, and be animated with the moral courage of Paul, and yet it is questionable whether they can accomplish what God has put it in the power of mothers to bring to pass. Thoroughly examined, it will be found, it is believed, that they hold in their hands the eternal destinies of millions of their



dear offspring; for, if they would do their duty, if they would enter upon the training of their children in season; if they would pursue it as a business, as the great business of life, steadily, prayerfully, perseveringly; as a labor from which they desire not to escape; as a duty, which, next to working out their own salvation, is paramount to all others; if for this they would toil, as they now toil for the form and fashion of the present world, who can estimate the results ? Those results would roll up, as time passed on, in a ratio exceeding all calculation. Small at first, they might be, like the incipient ripple on the placid bosom of the deep; but they would rise higher and higher, until, in magnitude and momentum, they would be like to the billows of the ocean.

Were the influence of mothers fully exerted for a few years, and were that influence consecrated to a strictly holy end, would our churches long want for ministers? Would our missionary societies lack for heralds to send forth, as the messengers of joy and salvation to the heathen? And as to converts to righteousness, who believes not that they would become as “ numerous as the drops of morning dew”? We should see then our sons and our daughters crowding the temples of God; * our sons appearing "as plants grown up in their youth, and our daughters polished after the similitude of a palace."

And what, in respect to the spread of the gospel, would not a generation thus educated ultimately accomplish? Look at their training; enter the nursery, and see the mother at her “ task divine,” letting in light, a few pencil rays


may be, into the opening intellect of the child which still nestles in her bosom, and gathering about her the older of her little flock, and telling them about the little heathen children of other countries, who have no Bible, and no Sabbath, and no Savior, and no hope ; and doing all this for the purpose of making an impression which shall last to future years, with a design to lay the foundation for pity and compassion, which may, by and by, come forth in benevolent action.

I imagine to myself that I see such a mother. She has collected her little circle ; and as they cluster around her, methinks I hear her say,

“Do you know, my children, that in India there is a large and deep river, in which some parents drown their children?” “ Drown them, mother !” exclaims a little girl,

Yes, they take them to the river Ganges, and cast them in there.” “ But why do they drown them, mother ?" inquires her boy.

“It is a part of their cruel religion, my children. They worship idols. And they think it will please their idols to have children sacrificed to them."

“ But don't the children cry?"

“ Indeed they do ; but their ignorant and cruel parents push them off into the deep water, and see the little sufferers struggle and drown without a tear.”

“Do parents ever drown their children in America ?

“No; we are taught better. Here we have the Bible, and that Bible tells us of the only living and true God, and how we should worship him.” “ But why are not parents in India told better ?”

They have no Bibles there, no Sabbaths, no ministers. Had they these, they would know that God is to be worshiped in spirit and in truth,' by prayer and praise, and not by drowning poor little children.”




“ Mother, I am glad that I was not born in India. Had I been, would you have drowned me?"

“Ah! my dear child, now it seems impossible ; but had I been a heathen, who can tell what I should have done? But be thankful to God that we live in a Christian land. Do you recollect the pretty hymn, “ I thank the goodness and the grace"? You may repeat it if you can.

I thank the goodness and the grace, I was not born as thousands are,
Which on my birth have smild,

Where God was never known;
And made me, in these Christian days, And taught to pray a useless prayer
A happy Christian child.

To blocks of wood and stone.
My God, I thank thee, who hast planned

A better lot for me,
And placed me in this happy land,

And where I hear of thee.


“But, mother, why do not the people of India purchase Bibles ?”

My dear child, in India, there are no Bibles to be sold. Our Bible has never been sent there."

“But could not the people in America send them some ?"

“Yes, indeed, they might; we have money enough in this country to send a Bible to every family in India ; and it is our duty to do so. I will tell

you, my children, what you must do. You are little children now; but by and by you will be grown up; you will get money.


think of what I tell you? Will you think of the poor little children there? Will you try to assist theni ? You must contribute to send them the Bible and missionaries. Before you are grown up, I may die, my children, and then I cannot tell


I shall be in the cold grave; but when you visit my grave, you will think of what I told you. You will contribute to the Bible Society, and to the Missionary Society"

• Mother, why may I not give my dollar now ?" And I mine ?" 6. And I” —" And I”- &c.

“ You may all give your money. I am glad that you prefer disposing of it in this manner, to spending it for trifles. I will send it to New York, and will write to the managers to have it laid out for Bibles to be sent to India."

What a delightful spot; I may appeal to the mothers who may chance to peruse

these pages; what a delightful spot is that where such scenes as the above are acted over! But how few they are! Were every habitation blessed with one ; were every mother in this land, called Christian, thus devoted to the spiritual instruction of her children, would not the results I have named, soon be realized ? Would not our children soon break forth in hosannas ? Should we not soon see them seated with us at the table of the Redeemer ? And by and by, and at no distant day, should we not see them setting in motion benevolent enterprises, which, blessed by God, would soon cover the mountains of India, and the plains of Africa, with temples consecrated to Jehovah's praise ?

Ah! when will this long neglected duty be begun! When will mothers feel for the souls of their children as they now care for their bodies ? What is the fashion, the gay attire, the adulation of the present world? What orna. ment will grace so much as the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit? What

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