make what was styled his maiden | GET INTO THE SUNSHINE AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE. "Speak gently; it is better far mar, The good we might do here: Speak gently to the young, for they Will have enough to bear; Pass through this lite as best they may, 'Tis full of anxious care." "I wish my father would come home," said little Richard. speech. Touchingly he spoke. He said in substance as follows: -"I cannot make much of a speech. It is not long since I was converted. Then I could not read; indeed, I did not know my letters. However, I longed to enter the Sunday School. I was resolved to learn to read. I had a little boy who could read, and I got him to teach me a bit of a night. When he used to ask me what such a letter or word was, and I could not tell him, he would say: A fadder, and does not know that!' This used to sting me, but I said no- "Your father will be very thing, and went on; so with angry," said his aunt, who was what I picked up at home and sitting in the room with a book in the Sunday School, I now in her hand. The boy raised manage pretty well to teach himself from the sofa, where he those who know less than my-had been lying in tears for half self." Take heart, then, my an hour, and with a touch young friends, in all your at- of indignation in his voice, tempts to do and get good. answered,― A youth named Gibson next told us how happy and grateful he was in being amongst us; "for," said he, "being young and strong, I have a natural prospect of spending a long life in the best of causes." Brothers Horsfall and Jackson then spoke in a very neat and feeling manner; and after a few words of encouragement and advice from the writer, one of the most refreshing school meetings it has fallen to my lot to enjoy, came to a close. The voice that said this had a troubled tone, and the face that looked up was sad. "He'll be sorry, not angry." For a few moments the aunt looked at the boy half curiously, and let her eyes fall again upon the book that was in her hand. The boy laid himself down upon the sofa again, and hid his face from sight. "That's father, now!" He started up, and went to the roomdoor, as the sound of a bell reached his ears. He stood there for a little while, and then came slowly back, saying, with JOHN SIMPSON. disappointed air,— a "It is'nt father. I wonder what keeps him so late. O, I wish he would come!" the boy left the sofa, and went to the sitting-room door. "It is my father!" and he went gliding down stairs. "Ah, Richard!" was the kindly greeting as the father took the hand of his boy. "But what's the matter, my son? You don't look happy." "You seem anxious to get deeper into trouble," remarked the aunt, who had only been in the house for a week, and who was neither very amiable nor very sympathizing towards children. The boy's fault had pro- "Do come in here!" And voked her, and she considered Richard drew his father into a him a fit subject for punishment. room. The father sat down, still "I believe, aunt, that you holding Richard's hand. would like to see me whipped," said the boy, a little warmly; "but you won't." "I must confess," she replied, "that I think a little wholesome discipline of the kind you speak of would not be out of place. If you were my child, I am very sure you would not escape." "I'm not your child; I don't want to be. Father is good, and loves me." "If your father is so good, and loves you so well, you must be a very ungrateful, or a very inconsiderate boy. "Hush, will you!" ejaculated the boy, excited to anger by this unkindness of speech. "Aunt!" It was the boy's mother who spoke now, for the first time. In an undertone she added, “you are wrong. Richard is suffering quite enough, and you are doing him harm rather than good." "You are in trouble, my son. What has happened?" The eyes of Richard filled with tears as he looked into his father's face. He tried to answer, but his lips quivered. Then he turned away, and opening the door of a closet, brought out the fragments of a broken ornament, which had been sent home only the day before, and set them on a table before his father. "Who did this, my son ?" was asked in an even voice, while over his countenance there came a shadow of regret. "I did it." "How?" "I threw my ball in there, once -only once, in forgetfulness." The poor boy's tones were sad and tremulous. A little while his father sat controlling himself, and collecting his disturbed thoughts. Then he said cheerfully, "What is done, Richard, can't Again the bell rang, and again be helped. Put the broken pieces away. You have had trouble that anger may act as a whole enough about it, I can see; and reproof enough for your thoughtlessness; so I shall not add a word to increase your pain." "O father!" And the boy threw his arms about his father's neck. "You are so kind, so good!" A few minutes later, and Richard entered the sitting-room with his father. The aunt looked up for two shadowed faces, but did not see them. She was puzzled. some discipline, but because we are unwilling to forgive. Ah! if we were always right with ourselves, we should oftener be right with our children. "Speak kindly, speak kindly! ye know not the power Of a kind and gentle word, As its tones, in a sad and weary hour, By the troubled heart are heard. "Speak kindly, then-kindly. There's nothing lost By gentle words; to the heart and ear Of the sad and lonely they're dearhow dear! And they nothing cost." "PRAYING FOR THE In the year 18-, I travelled in "I think Richard was a very to preach afternoon and night at nanghty boy." "We have settled all that, aunt," was the mild but firm answer she got; "and it is one of our rules to get into the sunshine as quickly as possible." S-, I went in the morning to visit the Sunday-school. As I made my inquiries at the different classes, I met with smiles, and "We are glad to see you,” from both teachers and scholars. 'Into the sunshine as quickly Giving words of encouragement as possible!" O! is not that the or advice, as the case seemed to better philosophy for our homes? require, I passed on till I came Is it not true Christian philo-to the senior girls' testament sophy? It is selfishness that class taught by Maria C—, a grows angry and repels, because God-fearing soul-loving young a fault has been committed. Let us get the offender into sunshine as quickly as possible, so that true thought and right feeling may grow vigorously in its warmth. We retain anger, not the teacher kindly gave satis woman. Here were fourteen girls, varying in age, from nine to fifteen years. I first inquired after their health, and then their progress in learning, to which factory answers, while the scho- Directly after, a revival broke out at S-, and Maria's prayed for ones, were amongst the first to find the Saviour. Teachers, not only pray for your scholars, but let them know If you are praying for them. some have been converted, give God the glory, and continue "Praying for the rest." CELATUS. A LITTLE CHILD'S APPEAL IN BEHALF OF THE SABBATH SCHOOL. DEAR Friends, you have met us on this festive day, To hear us sing hymns, speak pieces, and pray; At which we have each and all done our best, And to Almighty God we must now leave the rest. But suffer a child an appeal just to make, For only one minute or two it will take; Our school needs your help, your sympathy, aid, For its funds have got low through the debts we have paid. Which teaches young children the way they should go? Of the soul-cleansing blood that speaks us justified; We are told of sweet peace, of pardon, of love, A heaven, a mansion, a city above. We are told of a hell, a place of despair; And warn'd by our teachers lest we should go there. In the Bible Christ says (which by reading you'll see) "What ye did unto these, ye did unto Me." And now, my dear friends, if you have no objection, Our teachers are going to make the collection; Gold, silver, or copper, whatever you please. But you that are poor, and can nothing afford, R. ROBINSON. Missionary Matters. A LETTER FROM A LITTLE out sugar, which he did for a BOY. whole year, and gave the amount to the missionary cause at the next meeting. As soon as I heard it I promised to do the DEAR EDITOR,-I received five shillings, with the following note, while the collection was being made at the missionary same, and I have kept my promeeting, Willimoor, in the mise up till now, and I now Whitchurch Circuit. If you think it worthy of a place in the Juvenile Magazine, it is at your disposal. I am yours truly, G. PEAKE. "Sir,-Being at the last missionary meeting, held in this place, I took notice of one speaker especially who spoke of a little boy who went to a missionary meeting and had nothing to give, but a thought came into his mind that he would drink his tea with bring you the sum of five shil- Miscellanies. THE TINKER'S DAUGHTER. | and pans. I soon found him ON a fine afternoon, some years inclined to chat, and from his ago, I was walking thoughtfully along a country road from one appointment to another, when I was overtaken by a man who was armed with a box, a soldering iron, and the other requisites for mending or marring kettles respectful expressions, I was induced to form a favourable opinion of him. I inquired if he loved the Lord Jesus; and he quickly replied he had done some time. Being wishful to learn how he came to the know |