The Colonel desired her to sing this hymn. Scarcely had the mother sung two lines of it, when Regina rushed om the crowd, began to sing it also and threw herself into her mother's arms. They both wept for joy, and the colonel restored the daughter to her mother. But there were no parents or friends in search of the other little girl; and it was supposed that they were all murdered; and now the child clung to Regina, and would not let her go; and Regina's mother, though very poor, took her home with her. Regina repeatedly asked after "the book in which God speaks to us." But her mother did not possess a Bible; she had lost every thing when the natives burnt her house. She resolved to go to Philadel phia and buy one there, but the pastor Muhlenburg, of that place, gave her one. It was most extraordinary that Regina still retained her early instructions, and was able to read it immediately.

In how remarkable a manner did the Lord realize his words, "Every one that asketh, receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh, it shall be opened."

And what reward did the mother, who had diligently taught her children while yet in infancy, the word of God, receive in finding her lost daughter, by means of those instructions? Why do so many parents forget to communicate this best of gifts to their children? To dress and adorn them, to leave to them earthly treasures, to advance them in their life to honor and dignities-these they trouble themselves much about: but to teach them to know their Savior, to pray to him, to believe in him, to love and obey him; how many forget these things! But what folly! For, "What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?

A Scottish Legend.

A MARRIED Couple of the Scottish highlanders had thrice st their only child, each dying at an early age. Upon the death of the last, the father became boisterous, and uttered his complaints in the loudest tones.

The death of the child happened late in the spring, when, in the more inhabited straths, sheep were abroad; but from the blasts in that high and stormy region, they were still confined in the cot. In a dismal, stormy evening, the man, unable to stifle his anguish, went out, lamenting aloud, for a lamb to treat his friends with at the wake (or funeral feast.) At the door of the cot he found a stranger standing before the entrance. He was astonished, in such a night, so far from any frequented place! The stranger was plainly attired, but he had a counte nance expressive of singular mildness and benevolence; and, addressing the father in a sweet impressive voice, asked what he did there, amidst the tempest.

He was filled with awe, which he could not account for, and said he came for a lamb.

"What kind of a lamb do you mean to take?" Said the stranger.

"The very best that I can find," he replied; "as it is to entertain my friends; and I hope you will share of it." "Do your sheep make any resistance when you take away the lambs ?"

"Never," was the answer.

"How differently am I treated," said the traveler, "when I come to visit my sheep-fold, I take, as I am well entitled to do, the best lamb to myself, and my ears are filled with the clamor of discontent by these ungrateful sheep, whom I have fed, watched, and protected."

He looked up in amazement, but

fled.

the vision had

Paine and the Bible.

"ABOUT twenty years ago," says one, "passing the house where Thomas Paine boarded, the low window was open, and seeing him sitting close by, I stepped in. Seven or eight of his friends were present, whose doubts and his own he was laboring to remove, by a long talk about Joshua commanding the sun and moon to stand still; and concluded by denouncing the Bible as the worst of books, and that it had occasioned more mischief and bloodshed than any book ever printed, and was be

lieved only by fools and knaves. Here he paused; and while he was replenishing his tumbler with his favorite brandy and water, a person asked Mr. Paine if he ever was in Scotland? The answer was, "Yes." "So have I," continued the speaker; "and the Scotch are the great est bigots about the Bible I ever met;-it is their school book; their houses and churches are furnished with Bibles, and if they travel but a few miles from home, thei Bible is always their companion; yet in no other country where I have traveled, have I seen the people so comfort able and happy. Their poor are not in such abject poverty as I have seen in other countries. By their bigoted custom of going to church on Sundays, they save the wages which they earn through the week, which, in other countries that I have visited, are generally spent by mechanics and other young men, in taverns and frolics, on Sundays; and of all the foreigners who land on our shores, none are so much sought after for servants, and fill places where trust is reposed, as the Scotch. You rarely find them in taverns, the watch-house, the almshouse, bridewell, or prison. Now, if the Bible is so bad a book, those who use it most would be the worst of people; but the reverse is the case." This was a sort of argument Paine was not prepared to answer, and an histo rical fact which could not be denied; so, without saying a word, he lifted a candle from the table and walked up stairs. His disciples slipped out one by one, and left the speaker and myself to enjoy the scene."

Rum Selling.

DURING the last month, I called at the shop of a deacon in this city, and the following dialogue ensued between

us.

"Pray, deacon," said I, "do you continue to sell rum?" "Why, yes, sir;" he replied, "I sell a little."

"I looked over your bills last evening," I continued. "and I find I paid you more than $400 for grain last year, and I have paid you nearly that amount annually for seve ral years. I must quit, deacon, unless you give up the sale of spirits."

"Really, Mr. Sargent, I don't sell much. I should be very sorry to lose your custom."

"It is of no importance, deacon, how much or how little you sell. It is a scandal to the cause of religion to have deacons selling rum. I had rather ten common persons should sell it than one deacon. You have confessed to me that your clergyman disapproves of your conduct, and has talked with you on the subject."

"Why, Mr. Sargent, it would be a great loss to me, to give it up, my grain customers would go to other stores, and-"

"Deacon, I am astonished to hear you talk in this manner. I should have quitted you long ago, but for the hope of prevailing upon you to give up this ugly business. We have talked upon this subject frequently. I at one time supposed you would give it up, when poor Johnson died."

A

"Well, I don't know as t'was ever proved he had his liquor at my shop."

"No, deacon, it was never proved except by his dying declaration. Johnson was not a very intemperate man; he had money laid up in the Savings Bank; he was driving a load of manure into the country, and bought a bottle of gin at your shop. He drank till he was drunk, fell over the tongue of his wagon, in attempting to jump upon it, and was crushed beneath the wheels. This happened within a few rods of my own residence, in Roxbury. This poor fellow was removed to the poorhouse, and died there a few days after !"

"I really don't want to lose your custom, Mr. Sargent." "Well, deacon, I will not drive you to a decision in this sudden manner. Think of it seriously, and I believe you will give it up. It is a horrible occupation for a deacon. I will call to learn your determination in a few days."

At the end of three days I called again. The deacon came readily to the side of my chaise, as I drew up before his door.

"Well, deacon," said I, "what is your decision?"

"Why, I've pretty much made up my mind to give that up."

"Really, deacon," said I, "I am rejoiced."

"Oh, sir," cried the deacon, hastily interrupting me, not the traffic, but my office in the church!"

A Thoughtless Husband.

ONE of our pious neighbors, says a correspondent of the "Tract Magazine," had a poor woman working at her house, with whom she took occasion to converse respecting the salvation of her soul. The woman appeared much interested in the conversation, but expressed her regret that she was not able to read. In the course of the day some portions of the New Testament were read to her. "Dear!" said the woman, "what a nice book that is how I should like to have a copy of it for my husband; he can read, and if you will procure me one, I will pay you by a little at a time." "Verry well," said the friend, "take this home with you." In the evening, she retuaned to her husband, and showed him the prize. "What is this?" said the man. "A New Testament."

"Have you bought it?" "Yes."-"Ah! I wish you had not; it is a waste of money. The book is not worth any. thing." "Quite the contrary," replied the wife; "there are good things in it, I have heard them myself, and if you will search for them you will find them-they are there." The earnest persuasion of his wife prevailed. He opened the book, and providentially, the first passage that caught his eye was, "A certain blind man sat by the way-side begging; and hearing a multitude pass by, he asked what it meant; and they told him that Jesus of Nazareth passeth by; and he cried, saying, Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me!" This was irresistible; the attraction fastened him to the book, and he continued reading for hours; and when he finished for the night, he said, "Well there are good things in it indeed; the book is above all price."

What a hint is this to pious women, whose husbands are not religious! And what a rebuke does it furnish to many professors of the gospel, who have poor ignorant people working in their houses, or gardens, or shops, or factories, to whom they have never read a chapter, and to whom they have never spoken a word respecting the sal