JC-NRLF 
 
 10 
 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 EDUCATION 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
TEACHER'S GIF T 
 
 TO 
 
 HIS PUPILS. 
 
11 
 
 va o 
 
 ^ s 
 
 , 
 
THE 
 
 TEACHER'S GIFT 
 
 HIS PUPILS. 
 
 WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 "He was constantly thinking of them." 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 GRAY AND BOWEN, 
 LINCOLN AND EDMANDS, AND N. S. SIMPKINS AND CO. 
 
 M PCCC XXXI. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, 
 
 BY GRAT AND BOWEN, 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts 
 
 LANCASTER PRESS: 
 CARTER, ANDREWS, &. Co. PRINTERS. 
 
 GIFT 
 
PREFACE . 
 
 THE following stories were written 
 during a long connexion with a Sun- 
 day school, in which part of the plan 
 of instruction pursued was a general 
 lesson delivered before the whole school. 
 In order to secure attention and pre- 
 vent repetition, the author was induced 
 to write down the heads of his little ad- 
 dresses ; and the increased interest ex- 
 cited in the minds of his pupils, by this 
 means, has fully repaid him for any addi- 
 tional labour it may have cost him. 
 
 His design in these exercises has been 
 simply to draw from the common events 
 of life, which every child must notice, a 
 practical illustration of the value and ne- 
 cessity of religion and virtue. He has 
 therefore taken for his subjects the daily 
 occurrences that presented themselves 
 IB 
 
 265 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 in the immediate circle of his acquaint- 
 ance ; and any thing, in short, which 
 might impress the youthful Christian with 
 this one great truth, that religion is essen- 
 tial to our happiness, and that there is no 
 situation in life to which it does not impart 
 new pleasure. 
 
 TO HIS PUPILS 
 
 He will only say, that in preparing this 
 little volume he was constantly thinking 
 of them, and he hopes that the incidents 
 related, which were witnessed by him* 
 may prove interesting and useful. On 
 presenting this token of his regard, he 
 cannot but repeat, what they have often 
 heard him say, that on reading these sto- 
 ries, they must not forget their de- 
 sign, which is to render them GOOD 
 CHILDREN; certain that they cannot then 
 fail to be as happy as the most ardent 
 wishes of their affectionate friend and 
 teacher could desire. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 "CHAPTER I. Pag. 
 QUARRELLING 5 OR, THE BIRD'S NEST 9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE GOOD OLD WOMAN j OR ; DEVOTION At 
 CHURCH - 17 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 LOVE TO GOD . . . , '23 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS TO THE DIFFERENT 
 PARTS OF THE WORLD 29 
 
 CHAPTER V, 
 THANKSGIVING VISIT 5 OR ; THE GOOD OLD MAN 38 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE POWER OF FAITH j OR, THE CHRISTIAN'S 
 DEATH 4 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE FAITHFUL GUIDES 5 OR, A WALK THROUGH 
 THE COAL MINE 52 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 THE TWO TEMPLES G2 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 THE UNKIND BROTHER ; OR, THE NAUTILUS . , . 69 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 SATURDAY AFTERNOON ; OR, A SABBATH IN THE 
 COUNTRY 79 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 SINGING ; OR, THE PRESENT TO A SCHOOL. MORN- 
 ING HYMN j EVENING HYMN 85 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 DISAPPOINTMENT} OR, THE BLIND ORPHAN BOY . 92 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 WATCH, THAT YE ENTER NOT INTO TEMPTATION 101 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE GRATEFUL WELCOME; OR, REWARD FOR 
 BENEVOLENCE 105 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 RESIGNATION} OR, THE PUPIL'S DEATH 113 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ABSENCE FROM HOME; OR, THE UNCLE'S VISIT 
 TO HIS LITTLE FRIENDS 118 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 THE PILGRIMS; OR, PERSEVERANCE AND PIETY 124 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 AFFECTION ; OR, LOVE TO PARENTS 129 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 THE TWINS 5 OR, HOW MUCH A CHILD CAN DO 135 
 
THE TEACHER'S GIFT 
 
 TO HIS PUPILS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 QUARRELING; OR, THE BIRD'S NEST. 
 IT was Saturday afternoon ; I was sitting 
 in an arm chair, looking out of my chamber 
 window. The sun was just setting, and all 
 was silent, except the little birds that were 
 flying about and chirping near me. It was 
 hot in the city, for there I should have heard 
 the noise of carts and carriages ; no, it was in 
 a country village, arid I could see, between 
 the trees that surrounded the house, the 
 farmers at a distance, raking hay and work* 
 ing very hard. By-and-by, I saw a little robin 
 fly to the tree, very near my window, and 
 observing more closely, I perceived that she 
 was standing on the side of a nest, in which 
 were four little birds, holding their mouths 
 wide open. She dropped something into 
 one of them, and then pecked the side of the 
 nest, as if to put things in order, and stood 
 a few moments looking at the little ones, 
 
10 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 It was a pretty sight to witness the ten- 
 derness and affection of this good mother, 
 and to see the little birds lying close toge- 
 ther, winking their small bright eyes. The 
 nest was high up on a large apple tree, and 
 its branches extended over the nest, so as to 
 shield it from the storms. How pleasantly 
 must they live in that safe hollow, thought 
 I, as I sat looking at them. When the 
 rain pours down it does not hurt them, for 
 their mother covers them with her wings, 
 and it beats only upon her. But she does 
 not rnind it, and never flies away, but sits 
 silently and patiently, covering over her lit- 
 tle ones ; and when the sun shines bright she 
 flies abroad and brings home their food in 
 her beak. In a few days after this, these 
 little birds began to fly, having gained their 
 strength, and we could have seen the good 
 mother, in pleasant weather, flying from 
 one bough to another, urging them to follow, 
 and when they did, we should have seen 
 how delighted she was. 
 
 Suppose that one day, when they had be- 
 come old enough to fly abroad in the fields, 
 and chase each other in the air, a man should 
 jump over the rail fence with something 
 
12 TEACHER'S GIFT* 
 
 hanging at his side, and a gun in his hand, 
 arid when he had come near this little group 
 of birds, they should fly to their home on 
 the tree, and the man should creep slowly 
 along, following them, and come under the 
 tree, and pointing his gun, fire, and imme- 
 diately a little bird fall, with its head down, 
 and its wings spread out. Should you see 
 this would you not exclaim, cruel man ! 
 to kill that pretty little robin. Oh ! you 
 should not have done so, you have broken 
 up the happiness of that little family. How 
 its poor mother will grieve when she misses 
 her little one, and the other birds will feel 
 very sad at the loss of their playmate. 
 Cruel, cruel man, to do this and make them 
 so unhappy. 
 
 You have, no doubt, seen such a bird's 
 nest as I have described, and have seen how 
 happy the little birds were, and how much 
 they seemed to enjoy the free air and the 
 fields. Did you ever see a little family of 
 children like this? Oh! yes, you will reply. 
 Did you ever see a good mother sitting by 
 the fire, and all her little children round 
 the table, amusing themselves by drawing, 
 sewing, reading, and painting ? I have ; 
 
14 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 and I have seen some one break up all this 
 happiness, like the cruel man who killed the 
 little bird. It was not a man with a gun 
 that did it; no, it was a little girl. What! 
 a little girl do such a thing? Yes. Pray 
 how ? you will ask me. Why, I have seen 
 such a little family sitting by the table, en- 
 joying themselves in the evening, and one 
 of the little girls began to be cross, and 
 speak ill-naturedly to her sister, and then 
 throw aside her playthings, and scold, and 
 become peevish, and perhaps contradict a 
 brother or sister, till very soon the harmony 
 of all the little group was destroyed, and one 
 began to cry, and the others to quarrel. 
 
 Did you ever see this ? I hope not , but 
 if you have, was it not a sad sight? Mark 
 what was the cause : why, one little girl 
 was ill-natured ; the rest were not kind and 
 conciliatory, and did not try to please each 
 other, and they became peevish and cross, 
 till one had to go out of the room, and 
 another was sent to bed. 
 
 My pupils, do ill feelings sometimes rise 
 in your bosoms? do you ever speak harsh- 
 ly to a brother or sister, till by one un- 
 kind word after another you bring on that 
 
QUARRELING. 15 
 
 most disagreeable of all things, a quarrel ? 
 I conjure you to reflect how much pain you 
 give. You blamed the man who killed the 
 little bird, you thought how much pain and 
 sorrow it would cause the bird's mother. 
 Did you ever reflect how much pain an 
 unkind, fretful, peevish disposition, would 
 give your parents ? Did you ever think 
 how painful it is to a good heart, to lie 
 down at night with an unpleasant feeling 
 toward a brother, sister, or playmate, or to 
 have them offended with us ? Think of 
 this a moment; think that when you are 
 older you will look back on the days spent 
 with your brothers and sisters, with a feeling 
 of interest you can hardly imagine; if you 
 can then recall a period when you were un- 
 kind to them, or injured their feelings, you 
 will regret it with heartfelt sorrow. 
 
 Still more, if they are no longer living ; if 
 death has deprived you of the power to 
 show them your remorse or love ; and if you 
 were separated at the time of a quarrel, 
 never to meet again ; if your thought of a 
 departed brother be clouded by the remem- 
 brance that you were unkind to him, and 
 that you will not see him again till the awful 
 
16 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 hour arrive when you will meet your God, 
 how sad, how painful would be the reflec- 
 tion ! 
 
 But no, it shall not be so, say to your- 
 selves now, and from this moment resolve, 
 that you will be unkind no more ; that you 
 will try each day to love your parents, and 
 brothers, .and sisters, more and more. 
 Check your bad passions whenever they 
 rise : pause and say, " Thou, God, seest 
 me !" and this thought will quell these ill 
 feelings; and follow the example of the 
 little birds, "who in their nests agree." 
 
 Ah ! do more ; remember, and try always 
 to follow the example of the good, kind, 
 and gentle Saviour, and like him, when you 
 are spoken unkindly to, speak kindly in re- 
 turn ; thus, 
 
 " God in heaven, with smiles will view 
 All you think and all you do ; 
 And when Jesus wakes the dead, 
 His right hand will crown your head." 
 
17 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE GOOD OLD WOMAN ; OR, DEVOTION AT 
 CHURCH. 
 
 WHEN I was a little boy, and went to 
 school, I used to pass through a street, at 
 the bottom of which was a large river, and 
 beyond it I could see the hills in the coun- 
 try, and the beautiful green trees. Often I 
 have walked that way with my satchel on 
 my shoulder, admiring, as I passed, the blue 
 water and the pleasant view, with the stee- 
 ples of the churches on the opposite side of 
 the river, glittering in the sun. This was a 
 great many years ago, but the pleasure I 
 derived from these walks I can never for- 
 get. 
 
 . A large part of the river has since been 
 filled up, but I love to go there in the 
 morning, and recall the days of my boyhood ; 
 and at night, and see the bright stars reflect- 
 ed on the water. There are no recollec- 
 
18 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 tions so pleasant in after-life, as those of 
 childhood. You are too young now to real- 
 ise this, but when you are older, you 
 will feel it. It was not long since that I 
 visited this spot at the close of the Sabbath. 
 The moon shone bright, the bells were call- 
 ing people to church, and I could distinctly 
 hear the village bell, as its sound came soft- 
 ened over the water. I walked there a few 
 moments, and then thought I would join the 
 multitude, and go to the house of God. 
 After going some distance, I turned into a 
 narrow alley, and there saw the people 
 entering a large old building, at the top of 
 which was hoisted a flag. I went in and had 
 sat but a few moments, when I discovered 
 that all around me were of a humble class 
 in life. The women sat on one side, and 
 the men on the other. Presently I saw some 
 sailors come in ; indeed, I observed by the 
 dress and appearance of those around me, 
 that nearly all the men were sailors, and 
 that this was a sailor's meeting house. 
 Their countenances were hardy and rough, 
 and their dress coarse, but they were very 
 attentive and orderly. 
 
20 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 The exercises commenced with singing a 
 hymn. No organ was heard, but all united 
 in it, and the little chapel resounded with 
 the song of praise. At length the minister 
 arose ; he was a venerable looking man, 
 and devout, as became his profession. His 
 sermon consisted of a simple and impressive 
 exhortation to his hearers, to seek above 
 all things those treasures which do not pass 
 away, but are eternal as their Giver. 
 
 The sermon being finished, a hymn was 
 sung. As they were singing, I saw an old 
 woman sitting in one corner of the church 
 her hands were clasped, her eyes clos- 
 ed ; she appeared insensible to all about 
 her, and seemed to hold direct communion 
 with her God. I wish you could have seen 
 her humble and pious posture ; and her 
 face, which expressed so well a resigned 
 and faithful soul. I could distinctly hear 
 her voice, and she appeared to feel that 
 it was their parting hymn that they were 
 singing, 
 
 I wish that I could give you an idea of 
 this old lady, her manner, her humble ap- 
 pearance ; and that you had seen the 
 tear fall over her furrowed cheek when she 
 
DEVOTION AT CHURCH. 1 
 
 arose. The benediction was given, and I 
 left the church, and separated from the 
 crowd, many of whom, no doubt, returned 
 to their berths in their vessels, and are now 
 perhaps rocking on the ocean ; and their 
 sturdy hearts are called to brave its dangers, 
 and acknowledge the protecting power of 
 that Being whom they went up that even- 
 ing to worship. As I walked home, I 
 could not help reflecting on the old woman 
 I had seen, and indulged myself with draw- 
 ing a* picture of her pitiable situation. She 
 was evidently poor, and I followed her to 
 some lonely apartment, where she wanted 
 all those comforts that age needs ; but faith 
 cheered that abode, and she did not feel 
 alone, for God was with her. During that 
 evening service, her thoughts had been with 
 her Father. She had lifted up her heart, as 
 well as her voice, in prayer and praise. 
 
 Is it always so with us when we enter His 
 holy temple ? In the prayers, do we always 
 unite and implore a blessing with the mi- 
 nister? Do we in singing lift up our hearts 
 to God in gratitude ? Do we, as we enter 
 that place, feel grateful for the privilege ? 
 Are our thoughts, when there, fixed on eter- 
 
1 TEACHERS GIFT. 
 
 nal objects ? Oh, I would that it were so ! 
 that when we sung, we sung with the spirit. 
 I would that our prayers were as heartfelt, 
 fervent, holy, as her's. I would that our 
 thoughts when we are there, never wander- 
 ed, that we looked not at those about us, 
 but upon our own hearts. 
 
 Let us resolve that it shall be so from this 
 time, and not forget, that 
 
 " When to the house of God we go 
 
 To hear his word and sing his love, 
 To offer praises here below, 
 
 With all the saints in heaven above, 
 
 Our God is present with us there, 
 
 And watches all our thoughts and ways j 
 
 Oh ! let us humbly join in prayer, 
 Let us sincerely sing his praise." 
 
 I shall not have told you this story in 
 vain, if, when we next enter a church to 
 offer our morning sacrifice of thanksgiving, 
 we try to be as sincere and fervent as this 
 poor old woman was, and realize as this 
 humble Christian did, that we are in the 
 temple of the Most High ; that we have 
 come up to praise him, and entreat his for- 
 giveness and mercy ; and like her "Keep 
 our feet with all diligence when we go to 
 the house of God." 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 LOVE TO GOD. 
 
 I WISH to say a few words to you, on a 
 subject which interests me very much. It is 
 love to God. You no doubt remember that 
 on one occasion Jesus was surrounded by 
 a multitude of people, and uttered these 
 words: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy 
 God with all thy heart, mind, and strength." 
 This he repeated from the Law given by 
 Moses ; and he added on another occasion, 
 to his disciples : " If a man love me, he will 
 keep my commandments ; the word you 
 hear is not mine, but the Father's who sent 
 me." Let us consider what this love of 
 God is, and how it produces such perfect 
 obedience. This command of our Saviour 
 is given to us, and it is the first and the 
 great command, and this love is seen in 
 every true Christian. It is a principle we 
 cannot mistake, and one we can easily 
 understand. 
 
24 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 He who feels this love cannot be unhappy, 
 for, whatever happens to him from without, 
 his conscience is peaceful, and he knows 
 that God directs all he is therefore satisfied. 
 He who does not possess this love, though 
 he should have every other good that this 
 world can give, would yet be unsatisfied, for 
 it is this love alone that can fill the immortal 
 mind. I will explain this by an example. 
 
 Suppose there were two men whose situ- 
 ation in life was the same both of them 
 rich, both of them blest with every com- 
 fort life can afford. One of them has a 
 friend whose kindness and sympathy is ever 
 ready to aid him, a friend who is con- 
 stantly looking upon him with an interest 
 like that your parents feel for you. Now 
 when this man is in distress, he knows where 
 to go for relief; when in doubt, for advice 
 and support ; and if other friends fail, he 
 still has one remaining whose love does not 
 change ; or let his sorrows be what they may, 
 he is sure that he has one friend who views 
 him with the greatest affection. And if he 
 
 o 
 
 is happy, how much is his happiness in- 
 creased by the knowledge that his friend 
 feels with and for him ; and that every act 
 of self-denial, every good action, increases 
 
LOVE TO GOD. 25 
 
 the affection of his friend. He knows that 
 whatever may be his lot, there is one friend 
 of whose tender love he is secure, and that 
 nothing but guilt can ever change it. 
 Thus, in every change and vicissitude, this 
 man has a blessing that nothing but sin or 
 his own culpable indifference can take from 
 him. 
 
 Now take the other man who has the same 
 riches and power, but who has no friend. 
 He, too, has trials and temptations, but 
 where is the person to whom he looks to 
 aid him in overcoming them ? He has sor- 
 rows, but where is the friend to whom he 
 can tell his grief, and receive sympathy and 
 support ? He has prosperity, but the favours 
 or kindness he receives from those who are 
 not interested in him, give him no lasting 
 happiness. He is weak, and he can go to 
 no one to strengthen him ; ignorant, but he 
 has no one to advise him. Ah, how unfor- 
 tunate is such a man! he is indeed alone in 
 the world. He looks around, there is no 
 eye beaming upon him with interest; he 
 looks above, but no comfort comes to him 
 from thence. He has no father's care, no 
 mother's love, no brother's aifection, no 
 sister's tenderness. 
 
26 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 My pupils, is such a man happy ? Can 
 he be happy ? He has riches, it is true, but 
 he can live but in one house, can eat but one 
 dinner, can wear but one dress. He has 
 honours, but the highest offices or distinc- 
 tions cannot soothe the hours of loneliness, 
 of sickness, of death ! No. All the world 
 can do, all it can offer, could not, even for 
 a moment, still the aching head or support 
 his fainting spirit. 
 
 Do you say of such a man, How much he 
 is to be pitied ! Let me tell you, such is a man 
 without love to God. Behold, in the picture 
 I have presented, a contrast between the 
 man who has God for his friend, and him 
 who loves not that Being. Do you love him, 
 my dear pupils? do you often think of his 
 protecting care, his parental kindness ? He 
 is your Father in heaven. Your Father in 
 heaven ! what a claim to yourloveJ do you 
 think of him as such ? You know the love 
 you have for your parents, you know how 
 much you think of them, you know too how 
 cheerfully you do all they ask of you, and 
 remember what they tell you, because you 
 love them. 
 
 And will you not love God? Him who 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS TO THE DIFFERENT 
 PARTS OF THE WORLD. 
 
 DID you ever consider the goodness of the 
 Creator in the adaptation of animals to the 
 different parts of the world, and observe how 
 dependent man is upon them ? God, who is 
 good to us, is not good to us alone. No, he 
 is good to every thing that he has made. 
 The spot of earth that we inhabit is very 
 small in comparison with the world. And 
 is all the world alike ? Certainly not. In 
 some parts it is nearly the whole year very 
 hot ; the ground is sandy, and there are hard- 
 ly any trees. In other parts it is almost all 
 the year cold ; and the ground is covered 
 with snow ; and there are high mountains of 
 ice ; and plains where no man, animal, or 
 living thing is seen, for the cold air would 
 soon freeze them. What a difference ! 
 What a difference from the place we live in. 
 The year, you know, is divided into sea- 
 
30 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 sons ; and we call them spring, summer, 
 autumn, and winter. Now mark how won- 
 derfully God has formed animals to live in 
 these different parts of the earth. 
 
 In the first place, he has given us many 
 animals peculiarly adapted to our climate. 
 Suppose you had a parent or a relative sick, 
 an hundred miles from home, and you wish- 
 ed to see him what animal would carry 
 you swiftly over the ground ? It would be 
 
 THE HORSE, 
 
 And by this means God would enable 
 you to see them many days sooner than you 
 otherwise could. 
 
 Suppose there was any heavy weight to 
 be carried to a distance, or a loaded cart 
 to be drawn, it would not be the horse 
 
ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS. 31 
 
 that would be procured, but the slow and 
 strong 
 
 ox 
 
 would be brought out, and the heavy yoke 
 placed upon his neck; for though he can- 
 not go so fast as a horse, he can draw a 
 great deal more. 
 
 When you have been in the country, you 
 have perhaps seen the sheep grazing on the 
 rocks and hills. These give us their warm 
 fleece in the spring of the year for our win- 
 ter clothes ; and it is the kind and gentle 
 cow that gives a rich milk, which is in 
 some places an expensive luxury. 
 
 These are the animals God has given us, 
 and they all live here happily. 
 
 In some parts of the world there are 
 none of these animals ; parts where there 
 is little water, and where one may travel 
 miles before he will meet with any. In these 
 
32 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 dreary places, the green grass that we hSve 
 is seldom seen ; for the sun's rays have 
 great power almost all the year, and the 
 ground is dry, parched, and sandy. There 
 are few trees to rest under, and for miles 
 you may see nothing but a sandy desert. 
 Were we to see this spot, we should say it 
 would be a dreary one to live in. Yet there 
 are people who live there ; and God, who 
 is kind to all he has made, has given them 
 one animal which unites the various excel- 
 lencies of the many which we have, and ena- 
 bles man to inhabit this part of the world. 
 This animal is the 
 
 CAMEL, 
 
 and it is peculiarly adapted to this particu- 
 lar spot ; so much so, that the Arabs consider 
 the camel as a present from heaven, and re- 
 gard it as a sacred animal, without which 
 they could neither subsist, trade, or travel. 
 
ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS. 83 
 
 The camel is kind and gentle, is early 
 trained to bear burthens, rises and kneels 
 at the request of his master, and can travel 
 over the sandy deserts of Arabia from fifty 
 to one hundred miles a day with a thousand 
 pounds upon his back ; while the Arab, 
 with his family sitting upon him, sings to 
 cheer him on his way ; for the Arabians 
 say the Camel loves music. 
 
 God has given the feet of this animal 
 such a form that they spread out at the bot- 
 tom, and thus prevent him from sinking in 
 the sand. As his master is often obliged to 
 travel fifteen or twenty days without coming 
 to a spring, God has kindly provided for the 
 camel a stomach, with as many as twenty 
 bags, by which it can take in a great quan- 
 tity of water at once, and squeeze it from 
 these bags into the stomach when it is dry. 
 
 Consider, a moment, what a valuable ani- 
 mal the camel is. His milk gives nourish- 
 ment ; his hair which grows near the bunch 
 on his back, makes a delicate clothing ; his 
 flesh is food for the Arabian ; he can bear 
 long abstinence from food and water; he can 
 travel with rapidity over deserts impassable 
 to any other animal ; and he is docile and 
 
34 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 gentle as he is useful. Thus has God, in 
 one animal, made up to the Arabians for 
 the barrenness of their soil, and one that 
 supplies the place of those he has given 
 us. Without this animal, the people in 
 this part of the world would die ; with it 
 they are contented and happy. 
 
 We will consider now that part where it 
 is very cold ; where, instead of desert plains, 
 there are high mountains of ice, and the 
 ground is covered with snow ; where the 
 winters are very long, and we should hardly 
 think any one could live. In this cold 
 region God has placed an animal as 
 wonderful as the camel. It is called the 
 
 REIN-DEER, 
 
 and the place I have mentioned is Lapland. 
 
ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS. 35 
 
 To give you an idea of the value of the 
 rein-deer, I will mention, that there is 
 not a single part of this animal that the 
 Laplanders do not use. How do they keep 
 themselves warm ? it is by the skin of the 
 deer; and their caps, coats, and all their 
 clothing, are made of this. The skin is also 
 their bed, and when they build their tents 
 they cover them with it. Its horns are very 
 valuable. The rein-deer furnishes the Lap- 
 lander with food ; its milk is drank by them ; 
 and its tongue, when salted and dried, is 
 said to be a great delicacy. The feet of the 
 rein-deer are well adapted to glide over the 
 snow and ice ; and the animal goes with 
 great swiftness and care. 
 
 The Laplanders travel in a sledge, formed 
 something like a boat. They fasten a string 
 to the lower part of the horns, and take a 
 stick in their hands, and thus keep the 
 sledge from being overturned. The bottom 
 and sides of the sledge are of wood, and the 
 top is covered . with a skin like the an- 
 nexed picture, which represents a Laplander 
 travelling in a sledge. The Laplander fas- 
 tens himself in the slediiv, and the rein-deer 
 carries him with ease over mountains of snow. 
 
ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS. 37 
 
 I could go on and trace in other animals 
 an adaptation to the wants of man, equally 
 extraordinary with those that I have de- 
 scribed ; but we will pause here, and reflect 
 on the wisdom and goodness of the Creator. 
 You see that the burning sands of Arabia, 
 the frozen regions of Lapland, and the va- 
 ried seasons of our own country, are all 
 made habitable, and that God dispenses 
 happiness over the world that he has made, 
 in the very animals he has placed in its va- 
 rious parts. 
 
 Let us always delight to trace his good- 
 ness in all his vast creation, and adore his 
 power, and try to deserve his protecting 
 mercy, knowing that wherever we may be, 
 whether 
 
 " In wild Arabia's burning sands, 
 Or Lapland's frozen shores, 
 There, in majestic power, he reigns 
 An ever present God." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THANKSGIVING VISIT J OR, THE GOOD OLD 
 MAJf. 
 
 "VViiAT an interesting season in the year 
 is thanksgiving, when all our friends meet 
 around the family table, and happiness is 
 seen in every countenance. It is pleasant, 
 not only because our relatives meet from 
 every part, but because it is the season 
 when we remember the poor, and desire 
 that they may enjoy a portion of our 
 bounty. Our pleasures are always increased 
 by making others happy ; and no one is so 
 rich that he may not be indebted to the 
 humblest individual for something. 
 
 As I always wish, my pupils, that you 
 should participate in my pleasures, I will 
 tell you of a present that I received one 
 thanksgiving day; and I think you will 
 agree with me that it was a most valuable one. 
 
 When I was a little boy, an old man 
 
THE GOOD OLD MAN. 39 
 
 who kept a tailor's shop, lived near us, in a 
 small ten-foot building. I remember how 
 kind he always was when I went to his shop, 
 and how pleasantly he would talk with me. 
 I liked to go there, because he was so fond 
 of children. 
 
 Though this was a great many years ago, 
 I can well remember how the shop looked. 
 In winter he had a little stove and a chair 
 placed at the side of it ; and in summer I 
 often went there to sit on the door-step, 
 and gaze at the people passing, while the 
 good old man, seated on the bench above my 
 head, would push aside the shears for fear I 
 should hurt myself with them ; and when I 
 wanted a new suit of clothes, my father would 
 take me by the hand, and say, " Come, rny son, 
 we will go to the honest old man's shop, and 
 get measured for some new clothes ;" nd 
 when they were finished, often have I felt in 
 the deep new pocket for the bright cent this 
 good old man would put there for me. 
 
 You may possibly remember, that one or 
 two days before thanksgiving, a few years 
 ago, it rained very hard, and the weather 
 was exceedingly dull for many days. Amidst 
 the storm I went down one afternoon to 
 
40 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 A street, and turning into a narrow 
 
 alley, entered an old house, went up two 
 pair of stairs, and knocked at the door. Im- 
 mediately somebody said, " Come in." So I 
 went in, and saw an old man sitting on a 
 large trunk by the window. He knew me at 
 once, and said he was glad indeed to see me. 
 
 An aged woman was sitting by the fire, 
 upon which were a few sticks. She looked 
 very infirm, and was a true picture of old 
 age. She asked me very kindly to come 
 near the fire ; and upon my inquiring after 
 her health, she said that it was tolerable, but 
 that she had lost her memory, and it seemed 
 to her all the time, as if she was in a strange 
 place. 
 
 I told the old man that I had come to'see 
 what they wanted for thansgiving, and 
 if they were comfortable. He was very 
 grateful, and said, u how good my Father is 
 in sending such friends to me." " I am 
 now," he continued, " eighty years old, and 
 my wife is of the same age. Forty-eight 
 years have we lived together, and never 
 have we had cause to complain of each 
 other, I was born in a small parish in 
 Scotland, and I came to this country forty 
 
THE GOOD OLD MAN. 41 
 
 years ago. I have seen many trials, but 
 God lias never failed to support and comfort 
 me. Let me tell you how good he has 
 been. Twelve years ago, the man of whom 
 I hired my room sent an officer, and told 
 me to go out of the house, and threatened 
 to put my things in the street if I did 
 not pay him the month's rent which was 
 then due. In my trouble, a kind friend 
 came forward, and toll mj I might come 
 and live in this upper chamber ; and here 
 our friends visit us, and by their kindness 
 show that they have not forgotten us. 
 
 " A short time after we came here, my 
 wife was taken sick, and for nine years she 
 has not been down stairs, and you see how 
 childish and feeble she is. But mark, sir, how 
 good our Father is to us. He has, in our old 
 age, given me strength to take care of her, 
 and, feeble as she is, I can make her com- 
 fortable, though she can hardly move out of 
 her chair." 
 
 Well, said I, as I arose to take leave, I am 
 glad to see you so cheerful and contented. 
 " Contented !" said he, " dear me, sir 
 there are not two happier persons in the 
 city than we are. Our friends are very 
 
 cl 
 
THE GOOD OLD MAN. 43 
 
 good to us, and they send us now and then 
 some cold victuals, and often the little child- 
 ren come up and read the Bible to me, and 
 repeat their hymns, which I explain to 
 them. It is a pleasant sight, indeed, and it 
 warms my heart to see them play together." 
 As I looked round that small room, (the 
 only furniture in which was a bed, a table, 
 two chairs, and a few small books on some 
 old shelves,) and beheld this poor woman and 
 this venerable man, I could not but feel how 
 good is God " to those who put their trust in 
 him." I would that you had been there to 
 have seen him. As I was about to go, he 
 said, " I am glad that you have called upon 
 us. You see how happy we live, and how 
 good God is to us. We forget not our old 
 friends, but morning and night they come up 
 in remembrance as we offer our daily prayer. 
 Some of them have gone down to the grave ; 
 we are just on its brink, and soon shall meet 
 them in another world.' 5 Tears of joy and 
 gratitude flowed as he spoke ; and bidding 
 them adieu, 1 left the house, though I would 
 gladly have staid longer ; and I carried 
 thence a rich reward in what I had seen 
 and heard from this good old man. 
 
44 TEACHER S GIFT. 
 
 There he was, poor as he could be, depen- 
 dent on the charity of others, in a land far 
 from his home ; the friends of his youth all 
 gone, and he just ready to depart. Yet, 
 what a beautiful sight ! Here was a Chris- 
 tian whose soul was fixed on his heavenly 
 Father ; no poverty or distress turned him 
 aside, and it truly might be said of him, 
 that 
 
 " His heart did find delight in praise. 
 And seek relief in prayer." 
 
 This person was the same old man that 
 I used to go and see when I was a little boy ; 
 and this visit brought the question to my 
 mind, as I sat at my well-supplied table on 
 thanksgiving day Is my gratitude like his? 
 Is my love to my Father like his ? 
 
 My pupils, words are too poor a medium 
 to express the happiness this poor man en- 
 joys. I love to think of him in his garret ; 
 I love to go there to kindle my piety, and 
 increase my love to my Father in heaven ; 
 the thought of him and of the source whence 
 he derived his happiness, was the reward I 
 received for my visit. I present it to you ; 
 treasure it, and think often of it, and then 
 perhaps you may better understand the 
 
THE GOOD OLD MAN. 45 
 
 meaning of those beautiful words of the 
 Psalmist, " Mark the perfect man, and be- 
 hold the upright, for the end of that man is 
 peace," 
 
 ''Then, while with visage blank and sere, 
 
 The poor on earth we see, 
 Let us not ask what he is here. 
 
 But what he soon will be 5 
 And look beyond this earthly night, 
 To crowns of gold, and bowers of light." 
 
 c3 
 
46 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE POWER OF FAITH J OR, THE CHRISTIAN'S 
 DEATH. 
 
 ABOUT two weeks after my visit to the old 
 man whom I told you about in the last chap- 
 ter, a person called upon me, and told me 
 that he was very sick. I went to see him, 
 and took a servant man with me to carry a 
 few things to make him comfortable. I went 
 into the room, and there I saw him lying on 
 a bed. I was grieved to see him looking so 
 pale and feeble, and soon found that what 
 I had brought would be very acceptable, 
 and it was immediately prepared and given 
 to him. He then revived, and I told him 
 that I had not heard till a short time before 
 that he was sick, and inquired what was the 
 matter. He told me that one night as he 
 was raking up the fire, he had a faint turn, 
 and fell into it. His wife, who was in bed, 
 heard him fall, and called very loud, till the 
 
48 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 people came up, and took him out of the 
 fire, but not till his arm and hand had been 
 sadly burnt. His hand was dressed, but the 
 next day he felt unable to sit up. The doc- 
 tor came to see him, and told him that his 
 constitution was feeble, and that it required 
 strengthening, that he had not for some 
 time past eaten meat enough, and gave him 
 some medicine. " But/' said the old man, 
 "I know that my body is feeble; the pain 
 in my hand has extended through my 
 whole frame, and is gradually increasing; 
 I hardly slept two hours all last night. But 
 it was soothing to remember, as I lay on my 
 bed at midnight, the words of the Psalmist, 
 ' Because thy loving kindness is better than 
 life, my lips will praise thee : while I re- 
 member thee upon my bed, and meditate on 
 thee in the night watches. Because thou 
 hast been my help, therefore in the shadow 
 of thy wings will I rejoice.' 
 
 " It seems to me, sometimes," continued 
 the old man, " as though these dreadful pains 
 would draw my mind from God as if they 
 tried to make me peevish and forgetful. But 
 no, they shall not have dominion over me ; 
 soon they will overcome this poor feeble 
 
THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH. 49 
 
 body, but they shall not disturb my faith. 
 Sir/' continued he, " do you not remember 
 it is said of our Saviour, that he was taken 
 up into a high mountain, and shown all the 
 kingdoms of the' world, and he said, ' Get 
 thee behind me, Satan '? I too have seen the 
 world, its pleasures, riches, and all that it 
 can give ; but I would not exchange the 
 hopes I now have in the promises of my Re- 
 deemer, for ten thousand worlds. I must 
 stop," said he, " I have talked too much ; my 
 mouth is dry and parched, I can say no 
 more/' 
 
 These were the precise words he uttered, 
 as I stood by his bedside. I wished you had 
 been there to have heard him repeat these 
 and many other passages from the Bible, for 
 then you would have seen the power of 
 faith over pain ; then you would have seen 
 from that bed of poverty, the brightness and 
 glory of a holy life. An old friend who was 
 there kindly offered to stay with him, and a 
 faithful negro servant watched by him at 
 night. 
 
 A few evenings after, I called at the house, 
 and they informed me that he was very low ; 
 an hour previous to my visit, he called his 
 
50 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 aged friend near him, and said, " I shall soon 
 leave you." A chapter was read to him, 
 by his request, and he then for the last time, 
 in a clear and audible voice, offered his 
 prayer from that bed of death; and not long 
 after he closed his eyes in peace on the 
 things of earth. ' Thus by a severe and 
 rough way, a way trod by the steps of his 
 Saviour before him, God conducted him to 
 his journey's end.' 
 
 He is gone : how silent was his departure 
 how little known. Men missed him not in 
 their daily walks ; and those who lived near 
 him hardly perceived the difference, when 
 he was not in his chamber. No ; a few, very 
 few, miss him ; a few, a very few, mention his 
 death ; but we rejoice to believe, that his pure 
 spirit was welcomed and received into the 
 company of the just, and that his prayers on 
 earth are continued in heaven, with those of 
 angels and archangels, around the throne. 
 With delight do we recall the words of our 
 Saviour, " Blessed are the pure in heart, for 
 they shall see God." 
 
 My pupils, let us reflect a moment on 
 this good man's life arid death. I have re- 
 lated it to you to lead your minds to this 
 
THE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH. 51 
 
 point. You know we must all die ; this we 
 cannot escape ; and most of us must suffer 
 sickness, misfortune, old age, and perhaps 
 poverty. The utmost exertion of others, or 
 ourselves, cannot always insure us an ex- 
 emption from these evils. If this be true, is 
 it not natural that we should be anxious to 
 possess a power which will render us supe- 
 rior to them 1 If we must suffer as surely 
 as we live, should we not eagerly seek to 
 attain that strength of character which will 
 raise us above all suffering ? Yes, you will 
 say, tell us how we may gain it. By religion 
 and virtue only ; by love to God and obedi- 
 ence to the precepts of Christ. This only 
 will enable you to triumph over sickness, 
 poverty, and death. 
 
 Have you not felt the truth of this asser- 
 tion in the death of the old man I have told 
 you of? Let us strive to imitate his piety, 
 that we, like him, by " living soberly, righte- 
 ously, and godly" here, may " die the death 
 of the righteous." 
 
 " His duty done as sinks the clay. 
 
 Light from its load the spirit flies ; 
 While heaven and earth combine to say, 
 ' Sweet is the scene when virtue dies. 7 " 
 
5-2 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE FAITHFUL GUIDES ; OR, A WALK 
 THROUGH THE COAL MINE. 
 
 ONE pleasant morning in April, I was 
 sailing up the Ohio river in a steam boat. 
 As I sat at the breakfast table, I heard them 
 say on the deck, " There it is, there it is!" 
 I immediately went up, and found that the 
 object which produced this exclamation was 
 the city of Pittsburg, beautifully situated be- 
 tween two rivers. 
 
 The Alleghany flowed on one side, and 
 the Monongahela on the other ; and their 
 united streams formed the Ohio river. On 
 one side there was along range of high hills, 
 which looked very beautifully, as the trees 
 were in full blossom, and the grass was very 
 green. On my arrival, I went to see a friend ; 
 and after visiting a great many places, we 
 agreed the next day to go and see a coal 
 mine. 
 
THE COAL MINE. 63 
 
 Early the next morning we set out, and 
 having crossed the river by a bridge, we be- 
 gan to ascend a high mountain. After walk- 
 ing some time along a winding road, we 
 turned to the left, and came to some low 
 log huts, in front of which was a long plat- 
 form of boards covered with coal, and on the 
 lower side were some carts into which they 
 were shoveling it. At the end was a square 
 hole, cut into the mountain, of about five 
 feet high and four wide, which was the en- 
 trance to the mine. We stopped at one of 
 the huts and asked for a candle, when two 
 little boys, one five and the other about seven 
 years old, ran up and said they would show 
 us the way through the mine. The en- 
 trance at the side of the mountain was so 
 low, that we were obliged to take off our 
 hats and stoop, in order to follow our little 
 guides. After we had proceeded some dis- 
 tance, we stopped to look around us. On 
 all sides we saw coal ; and the roof, also of 
 coal, was supported by wooden pillars. The 
 light which our guides carried fairly illumi- 
 nated this subterranean abode, and the glit- 
 tering of the coal produced a novel effect. 
 
 We passed a great many avenues cut in 
 
r. 
 
THE COAL MINE. 55 
 
 the sides, which were entrances to other 
 mines, and which opened on different sides 
 of the mountain. Some of them were damp 
 and mouldy, as they had been dug many 
 years ; and in others we could hear them 
 digging a great way off. In a few moments 
 we heard a noise in one of the side mines, 
 and were told that one of the carts was com- 
 ing, and we stopped to see it. Presently a 
 little boy, twelve years old, came dragging a 
 small cart on four wheels, loaded with coal, 
 a woman and a young girl about fourteen 
 years of age, were pushing behind. As soon 
 as the boy saw us he pulled off his cap and 
 bade us good morning, and inquired if we 
 were going through the mine. We answered 
 yes; "then," said he, "I will go with you, 
 for Johnny and Willey do not know the way 
 well enough, and they will lead you wrong. " 
 So saying, he took a piece of candle from his 
 cart, and told us to follow him, leaving the 
 woman and girl, who were his mother and 
 sister, (which was a sad sight indeed to me) 
 to draw the cart out of the mine, which they 
 said they were perfectly willing to do. 
 
 Our new guide talked a great deal, and 
 very fast. As we passed the different ave- 
 4 
 
56 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 nues where they had dug in from the princi- 
 pal mine, he told us all about them. " Here," 
 said he, pointing to one avenue, " is where 
 uncle William digs, and the next is where 
 father digs, and the other, where John 
 works ; and this one was dug a great many 
 years ago. and they do not work in it now." 
 
 At last we came to a large open space, 
 which appeared like a room. It had been 
 dug out, and large pillars of coal had been 
 left to support the roof. It was about five 
 feet high. A man was digging at one side, 
 surrounded with coal, as we entered this 
 room. The coal glistened brightly around 
 us, reflecting the light of our candle, but it 
 appeared a dark and gloomy place. 
 
 We asked him what he was digging ; and 
 he replied, " that he had dug a large, narrow 
 strip near the floor, and was then making a 
 small hole above, and intended to put some 
 powder in it, and on the explosion, a large 
 strip of coal would be thrown down at once, 
 and fall in pieces, and thus a great deal 
 would be ready to cart out in a short time." 
 After talking a short time with the man, we 
 continued our walk. 
 
 In a few moments we heard a cart coming, 
 
58 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 and therefore stopped at an open place 
 where the passage would be wide enough to 
 let the cart pass, (for a great part of the way 
 it was only wide enough for the cart alone,) 
 and in a few moments it came up to us. 
 It was drawn by a very small horse, and 
 there was a man sitting on the front of the 
 cart. He stopped when he came up to us 
 and conversed some time, and told us how 
 many years he had worked in the mine ; 
 and related a great many things which I 
 have not time to tell you now. He then 
 bade us good bye, and we separated. 
 
 Soon after we came to a part, where a 
 large square place had been cleared away, 
 and a man was digging at the side, sur- 
 rounded with coal. At one place we saw a 
 small hole, and there our little guides got on 
 their hands and knees, and told us to follow, 
 which we did, climbing over a large heap of 
 coal. There was just room enough to allow 
 our creeping through. 
 
 It appeared, as we were told by our guide, 
 that some time ago, the top of the mine fell 
 down, and filled up the passage for some 
 distance, leaving only space enough to al- 
 low one to pass through by getting on his 
 
THE COAL MINE. 59 
 
 hands and knees. As we went through, we 
 came to a wide open place, where the coal 
 had fallen down, and there were then pieces 
 hanging loosely over our heads. We pass- 
 ed rapidly on, and most of the way it was 
 damp and mouldy, and appeared not to have 
 been entered lately, for the digging had been 
 commenced at this end many years before. 
 
 As we were hastening on, and inquiring 
 how much farther we had to go, we came to 
 a bend, when one of the little fellows ex- 
 claimed, " There, there is the end ;" and on 
 looking, we could distinguish a small light 
 at a great distance from us, and after walk- 
 ing some time, we reached the opening, 
 having passed, as the lad told us, one mile 
 in nearly a direct line, and almost through 
 the mine. 
 
 We paid our attentive, faithful little 
 guides, and bidding them good bye, they 
 ran back very happily the same way they 
 came. We walked a short distance, and 
 found that we were on the side of the hill 
 opposite to that which we had entered half 
 an hour before, during which time there 
 had been over our heads from fifty to sixty 
 feet of earth. After walking a little time, 
 
 4A 
 
60 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 we sat down by the side of a hut, and drank 
 some water that was handed us by a poor 
 woman. We rested upon this high hill, view- 
 ing the pleasant town on the other side of a 
 river flowing at the foot of the mountain. As 
 we descended and breathed the sweet fresh 
 air of spring, we could not but think of the 
 great contrast between these fine open fields, 
 and the dark confined place we had just left, 
 and pity the unfortunate beings who are 
 condemned to pass their lives in a mine. 
 
 Now, my dear pupils, have you ever 
 thought of God's goodness in thus providing 
 a substance for the use of man, even in the 
 bowels of the earth ? He not only makes 
 trees grow to furnish him the means of com- 
 fort during the winter, but he has also form- 
 ed another material to answer to his wants. 
 Wherever we look, we find proofs of his 
 wisdom and goodness, as well as his power. 
 
 I came out of that dark and unwholesome 
 place, into the bright light of day. The 
 sky, the air, the movement of the trees, 
 filled my heart with gratitude, and I thank- 
 ed God that our lot had not been cast with 
 those poor people. And yet if we fail to use 
 our privileges rightly, we shall be the proper 
 
THE COAL MINE. 61 
 
 objects of their pity. If we who have such 
 helps to goodness, happiness, and grati- 
 tude, we who have cheerful homes in the 
 blessed light of day, and indulgent parents, 
 and kind teachers, and are permitted the en- 
 joyment of every innocent pleasure, are 
 thoughtless and ungrateful; if when the 
 winter storm beats against our windows, 
 and we sit by the pleasant coal fire, we for- 
 get the Being who makes us thus comfort- 
 able, and how many there are working hard, 
 day after day for us, in order that we may 
 have this coal ; if we forget this, then these 
 poor children may look with compassion 
 on us. 
 
 But no, we will not be insensible to God's 
 goodness ; but each returning day our hearts 
 shall, like that of the Psalmist, exclaim, 
 " Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not 
 all his benefits, who crowneth thee with 
 loving kindness and tender mercies.' 5 
 
 4u 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE TWO TEMPLES. 
 
 MANY years ago there lived an old man 
 who was very wise and good, and he was 
 appointed king over the land where he re- 
 sided. In the course of time he grew aged 
 and infirm, and when he was about to die, 
 he called his son to him to give him some 
 advice before he should leave the world. 
 He told his son to be good; and above eve- 
 ry thing else, to love the Lord his God, for 
 the Lord made him, and gave him every 
 thing he possessed, and that he knew even 
 his thoughts and all his ways. He told him 
 also, that if he looked up and prayed to 
 that Being, He would listen to and help 
 him, and never forget him. 
 
 Not long after this, the old man died, and 
 his son succeeded him and was made king. 
 His son was a wise prince, and kept the 
 r>eor>le in peace while he reigned. He re- 
 
THE TWO TEMPLES. 63 
 
 membered what his father had told him, and 
 in the course of a few years he built a large 
 temple, or meeting-house, for the Lord, 
 where the people might assemble and praise 
 him together. 
 
 Now this temple was not a common one, 
 like ours, but was much larger. It was very 
 long, and in the middle of it was a steeple 
 that was quite high, and in front was a 
 very large portico and a flight of steps to 
 enter it. It was far more splendid than 
 any we have. 
 
 A large part of the house, and the altar 
 where the commandments on stone were 
 placed, were covered with gold ; and in 
 various parts were carved images and orna- 
 mental work, which made it appear very 
 magnificent. 
 
 They were seven years building this 
 temple, and when it was done, the king 
 called all the rulers and the chief officers 
 and governors of the land together, to dedi- 
 cate it to the Lord, (in the same manner as 
 we assemble the ministers and people to 
 dedicate our churches.) 
 
 There were thousands of people assem- 
 bled ; and it was the custom in those days 
 
64 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 to kill animals, and offer them upon an al- 
 tar as a token of gratitude to the Almighty, 
 and as a sign that they considered him as 
 Jehovah, and that there was no other God. 
 At the dedication of this temple, " the king 
 offered a sacrifice of peace offering unto 
 the Lord, of two-and-twenty thousand ox- 
 en, and an hundred and twenty thousand 
 sheep." 
 
 Now this temple was not dedicated in a 
 day, but the king kept the people together 
 fourteen days; and on the first day he made 
 an address, and told the people that this 
 was the Lord's temple, and that they must 
 serve him. 
 
 I was reading about this not long since, 
 and as I read of the carved work, the gold 
 and silver candlesticks, and the many splen- 
 did things that were there, I could not but 
 think what a beautiful building it must have 
 been, and how I should have admired to have 
 seen it. You have probably heard about 
 this before. The old man I have told you 
 of was named David ; and his son, the king 
 who built the temple, was Solomon, and the 
 temple was called Solomon's Temple, after 
 his name. 
 
THE TWO TEMPLES. 65 
 
 My pupils, you constantly attend a Sun- 
 day school, and do you know that you go 
 there to build a far nobler and more enduring 
 temple than that I have told you of? When 
 there, you rise up and look to your Father, 
 and ask him to help you do his will. What 
 is his will? His will is that we love 
 Him entirely, and each other as we do our- 
 selves ; that we should do as we would be 
 done by, and gradually add new and living 
 virtues to our characters, thus forming a 
 temple in our hearts, where God may de- 
 light to dwell ; an altar of love, where every 
 selfish and harsh feeling may be sacrificed, 
 and the commandments be there engraven, 
 not on perishable stone, but on the immor- 
 tal mind. 
 
 Yes, my pupils, we were placed in this 
 world to perform this work, to build this 
 temple, " to purify ourselves as he is pure," 
 to devote every faculty of our mind, every 
 feeling of our heart, to His service and to 
 His glory. If we do this, then He will dwell 
 in us, His spirit will be with us. 
 
 Where is Solomon's temple now ? Where 
 is the gold, where is the altar, where are 
 those stones that it took so many years to 
 
66 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 lay ? They have all gone they have crum- 
 bled to the dust. How strange it seems 
 that so beautiful and strong a building 
 should not have stood while the world lasts. 
 But it is otherwise ordered : every thing 
 here grows old, and disappears ; nothing is 
 fixed ; and in a few years every thing around 
 us will decay. The men, women, and child- 
 ren, now on the earth ; the houses, church- 
 es, and splendid buildings, now standing; 
 will pass away as those which have stood 
 in Solomon's day. 
 
 Yes, all that is mortal will pass away; 
 but not so the temple within our hearts, not 
 so the goodness and the virtues which adorn 
 the soul. When we see men labouring to 
 build great houses, and purchase rich fur- 
 niture, we, too, can say that we have an ob- 
 ject to work for ; one that deserves q.11 the 
 time and labour we can give. We, too, 
 have a master to serve, one who regards 
 our humblest efforts to do right, with bene- 
 volence and love. 
 
 All we do for Him is remembered, and 
 will not be lost ; no act of kindness, not a 
 word, not a feeling of affection, is overlook- 
 ed with Him; but every day, every hour, 
 
THE TWO TEMPLER. 07 
 
 adds something to those treasures which 
 will adorn the temple dedicated to God, 
 which we have raised in our hearts; that 
 temple, not built of stone, of wood, or of 
 brick, but piety, holiness, and goodness 
 must be its pillars, and its foundation laid 
 in love to God, and love to our fellow men. 
 
 Can we, you will ask, build this enduring 
 temple? Yes, we can, whatever our faults 
 may be, and none of us are without them. 
 Go with humility to God, tell him your 
 wants, ask him to assist you; keep a watch 
 over this temple you are building, examine 
 your conduct every night, and try to disco- 
 ver your motives. You will sometimes find 
 your best actions had an unworthy motive, 
 and that instead of congratulation, you de- 
 serve reproof. 
 
 The plan of examining at night what you 
 have done during the day, will lead you to 
 do well ; and when you discover any faults, 
 you must labor unceasingly to correct 
 them ; and you will often be surprised to 
 find how much you do that is wrong, and 
 often your sins will be difficult to overcome. 
 But, "fear not, little flock," says Jesus, "I 
 am with you." Fear not, rny pupils, his ex- 
 
68 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 ample is forever with you. His obedience 
 to his parents, his affection to his brethren 
 and friends, his courage in danger, his for- 
 titude in suffering, his gratitude to every 
 benefactor, are handed down to us yes, 
 his love offers us a guide on earth, and his 
 love has gained for us a home in heaven. 
 
 " ' Sec how he lov : d !' exclaim'd the Jews, 
 
 As tender tears from Jesus fell : 
 My grateful heart the thought pursues, 
 And on the theme delights to dwell. 
 
 See how he loved, who died for man, 
 Who labour'd hard, and much endur'd, 
 
 To finish the all-gracious plan 
 
 Which life and heaven to man secured. 
 
 Such love can we unmoved survey ? 
 
 O may our breasts with ardour glow, 
 To tread his steps, his laws obey, 
 
 And thus our warm affection show." 
 
69 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE UNKIND BROTHER ; OR, THE NAUTILUS. 
 
 A FEW years ago, I went to pass the Sab- 
 bath in the country. It was at the house of 
 a friend, who is the father of a boy and girl 
 whom he loves very much. They both at- 
 tend the Sunday school, but the boy is a 
 better scholar than the girl; he remembers, 
 said my friend, all that he hears, and often 
 repeats the good advice of his teacher 'at 
 home. My little Emily behaves well, how- 
 ever, said the mother, and from this, I feel 
 assured she profits by what is told her, 
 though she talks less about it than William. 
 The two children came in while we were 
 speaking, and we changed the conversation. 
 
 I rose early the next morning, to enjoy a 
 solitary walk in the garden before the fami- 
 ly were up. I love to rise early at all times, 
 for the. morning of the day is like the morn- 
 ingof life, full of freshness and sweets; but 
 
70 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 above all, I always rise early on the Sab- 
 bath. In these silent hours, I feel a more 
 intimate communion with God, and a deep- 
 er sense of my own unworthiness. 
 
 I had been walking up and down the al- 
 leys for some time, enjoying with grateful 
 heart the beauties around me, when I heard 
 the following conversation between William 
 and Emily. 
 
 "Do let me go with you, William ; I want 
 to see Sarah very much, and it is quite un- 
 certain, you know, when I can go if 1 do 
 not now ; to-morrow I shall go to Aunt's, 
 and then I may not be back for six weeks ; 
 do, William, take me with you." "No, 
 Emily," said William, " you will be a care to 
 me ; you will want me to walk to Mr. Par- 
 sons' with you." "No, I shall not," an- 
 swered Emily; "I merely want you to let 
 me go with you in the chaise to the meet- 
 ing-house, and then I shall see Sarah, and 
 go home and dine with her, and go in the 
 afternoon to the Sunday school. I will not 
 .give you the least touble ; and if I do not 
 go, you will ride alone, and all I wish is, to 
 #it by your side going and returning and I 
 
THE UNKIND BROTHER. 71 
 
 want very much to go, and mamma will be 
 willing, if I ask her, I know." 
 
 "You shall go some other time," said 
 William, " I will ask for the chaise, and 
 drive you some week day, and we will have 
 a good time." " But, William, you cannot 
 do this; you go to school on week days, and 
 you are not able to find a moment to do 
 the least thing for me now ; you know you 
 are always in a hurry, either studying your 
 lesson, or helping other boys, and you ne- 
 ver get time to be at home with me ; and 
 now this is such a good opportunity, and 
 papa is willing, and it will be so kind in 
 you, do, dear William," cried the affection- 
 ate little girl, in a tone of earnest entreaty. 
 " No," said William, " you will be a care 
 upon me ; I will take you some other time." 
 
 Here they perceived me, and stopped. I 
 bade them good morning, and we walked to 
 the house together. After breakfast, I ob- 
 served the servant bring the chaise to the 
 door, and William jumped in, nodded to 
 Emily, who stood at the window, and drove 
 off. A few moments after, Emily came 
 down stairs, dressed to go to the Sunday 
 school. " Where is William," said I. "He 
 
72 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 has gone to see a friend, and to visit a Sun- 
 day school, about five miles off father has 
 lent him the chaise, and he will be back to- 
 night." " And you wished to go too ; was 
 it not so, Emily?" She looked up to me, 
 smiling between tears, and said, "Yes, sir; 
 but it is no matter ;" and she passed out of 
 the gate, caressing the dog as she went. 
 " No, Rover, you must not come I am sor- 
 ry, Rover," said she, gently disengaging her- 
 self from him, and shutting him in, "you must 
 not come, I dare not let you, but I would not 
 refuse you if I could help it ;" and with a full 
 heart she ran off, while the faithful Rover, 
 as if understanding her, after looking wish- 
 fully a few moments, and wagging his tail 
 in token of obedience, laid down again. 
 
 Our day passed pleasantly ; little Emily 
 returned home in fine spirits; and immedi- 
 ately came to us, and began to tell what she 
 had seen and heard at the Sunday school. 
 
 " I have had a delightful day, father," 
 said she ; " Mr. told us about a won- 
 derful little animal, called the Nautilus. It 
 is a complete representation of a vessel, and 
 has sails, and oars ;" and here she related 
 all that she could remember of the lesson. 
 
THE NAUTILUS. 73 
 
 Just about sunset, we heard the chaise 
 coming ; Emily exclaimed, " William has 
 got home," and ran to the door. My 
 friend and I were standing there at the 
 time. Emily immediately ran to William, 
 and after inquiring how Sarah was, she 
 told him what a pleasant time she had at 
 the Sunday school. "Yes, I had a delight- 
 ful day, and Mr. was much pleased 
 
 with my answers to his questions;" and then 
 she began to repeat to William what she 
 had heard. 
 
 "Come here, Emily," said I, "I see you 
 want William to know about this curious 
 animal, called the Nautilus, and I will tell 
 him about it, and you can help me." 
 
 I remember reading some time ago, in a 
 volume of Buffon's Natural History, an ac- 
 count of this animal. It is called by sailors 
 the Portuguese man-of-war, and is one of 
 the most wonderful of the works of God. 
 It is a worm about six or eight inches long, 
 and has a white shell which is as thin as 
 paper, and looks like a snail. The inside 
 of the shell is divided into forty parti- 
 tions. Its body, when taken from the shell, 
 which it often leaves, resembles a number 
 5 
 
74 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 of soft pieces of flesh, and is divided into as 
 many parts as there are chambers in its 
 shell. All these parts of the body are con- 
 nected by a membrane or long blood-vessel, 
 that runs from the head to the tail, of which 
 there are forty, threaded as it were upon a 
 string. 
 
 There are two kinds of the Nautilus ; but 
 the one I now speak of is often found in 
 the Mediterranean, and few have ever sailed 
 on that sea that have not seen them. 
 
 The most singular thing about the Nauti-" 
 lus, is its sailing and guiding its shell like 
 a ship. I will endeavour to tell you how it 
 docs tliis. 
 
 God has furnished the Nautilus with eight 
 feet, which are near its mouth. A part of 
 fret are connected to each other by a 
 thin skin, like that between the toes of a 
 duck, but much thinner. The feet thus 
 connected are short, and when it wishes to 
 sail, it empties the water out of the shell, 
 and turns over on the back of the shell, and 
 kes that the vessel, and then holds up its 
 1 1 legs ; the partition between catches the 
 wind and answers for sails ; like the pic- 
 ture on the next page. These sails are 
 
THE NAUTILUS. 
 
 75 
 
 1 It is called by sailors the Portuguese man-of war," 
 
76 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 beautifully marked with pink and blue, and 
 many other colours. The other legs, which 
 are long, are held down, and serve as oars 
 to steer with. It has also two long fibres, 
 which are delicate and elastic, and these 
 serve as anchors, by which they fasten 
 themselves to rocks ; these are spiral, and 
 wind round like a cork screw, and are won- 
 derfully adapted for this purpose. 
 
 When the weather is calm, and the Nau- 
 tilus is pursued by any thing, it is then seen 
 with only part of its sails up, and rowing 
 with the others ; and whenever it fears any 
 thing on the surface of the water, it instantly 
 furls its sails, catches in all its oars, turns 
 its shell mouth downward, which soon fills 
 with water, and thus being too heavy to float, 
 it sinks to the bottom. The Nautilus has 
 been seen pumping the water out of its 
 leaking shell in an ingenious way, as men 
 would pump from a leaky ship ; and when 
 its vessel is not longer fit for sailing, it 
 leaves it entirely, and the forsaken hulk is 
 seen floating along, till it dashes upon the 
 rocks or the shore. Thus you see how 
 curious and wonderful is the formation of 
 this little animal. 
 
THE NAUTILUS. 77 
 
 Men have always regarded navigation as 
 one of the most wonderful discoveries ; one 
 of which they might justly be proud. And 
 that is certainly a wonderful power that 
 man is endowed with, which enables him to 
 take the trees from the forest, and build with 
 them the beautiful ship, and launch this 
 heavy mass into the water, and then guide 
 it over the sea to distant parts of the world. 
 
 But here we see a little animal, destitute 
 of mind, guiding and balancing on the 
 waves the vessel which God has committed 
 to its care. 
 
 " What a lesson of humility, my children," 
 said I, " does God teach us in this animal. 
 How little, how insignificant we are, even 
 when we know the most." I looked at 
 William, "yes, we are indeed nothing, and 
 less than nothing, in the universe where 
 God has placed us, and yet we have the 
 presumption to imagine ourselves too often 
 something very important. Our life is but a 
 moment, comparativelyspeaking, but instead 
 of improving it by making others happy, in- 
 stead of seizing every opportunity to give 
 pleasure, we often by our selfishness lose 
 these golden opportunities, which once lost 
 GA 
 
78 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 can never return. Our wisdom, even the 
 wisdom of the wisest, sinks into ignorance 
 before the worm we crush ; it is by being 
 good and kind alone, that we are allied to 
 the angels and children of the Most High. 
 
 The Bee, the Ant, and the Nautilus, have 
 a sagacity which men at best can only imi- 
 tate. But Jesus tells us, a cup of cold 
 water given to a sufferer, a kind word, a 
 request, perhaps trifling in itself, readily 
 granted, will be remembered in heaven, and 
 meet the approbation of our Father." 
 
 As I concluded, my eyes rested on Wil- 
 liam, and he deeply felt the reproof. More 
 than two years have passed since then, and 
 he tells me, that often when he has been on 
 the point of refusing to do a kindness, the 
 remembrance of the feelings of that moment 
 have come over him, and he has checked 
 the selfish emotion ; and now he is, I am 
 delighted to say, not only the most obliging 
 and estimable boy in school, but what is 
 even more important, the most disinterested 
 *imJ least selfish at hornr. 
 
79 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 SATURDAY AFTERNOON ; OR, A SABBATH IN 
 THE COUNTRY. 
 
 DID you ever think what an interesting 
 time Saturday afternoon is ; when your stu- 
 dies at the school are ended for the week, 
 and you have received the ticket from your 
 instructers, showing what progress you have 
 made ? How happy, too, is that hour when 
 your little associates meet to play with you, 
 and the time passes swiftly away, till some 
 one knocks at the door and tells you it is 
 time to be at home. 
 
 This hour is pleasant to all ; the day la- 
 bourer then returns to his home, with his 
 tools on his shoulder, and rejoices that the 
 morrow will be a day of rest : the merchant, 
 too, is glad when this time arrives, that he 
 may lay aside his cares of business and en- 
 joy a day of quiet and peace. Some leave 
 the noise of the city, and before the sun sets 
 
 5B 
 
TEACHER S GIFT. 
 
 on this day, they hasten into the country, 
 where all is still. There is no incident in 
 our lives from which we may not derive 
 some lesson of instruction ; and with this 
 impression, I will venture to relate to you 
 my Sabbath visit to a neighbouring town. 
 
 Early one Saturday afternoon I went on 
 board a steam-boat, and soon after we 
 started we saw the city with the spires of 
 its churches rising from every part. The 
 vessels lay at the wharves, and the hills were 
 seen rising at a distance far behind us. The 
 little boats were sailing about in every di- 
 rection, and some vessels were parting from 
 the wharves just ready to go to sea ; and oth- 
 ers were seen at a distance, returning from 
 different parts of the world. The cattle 
 were grazing on the islands, the sea-birds 
 were flying around the rocks near the 
 shore, and now and then a fish would jump 
 out of the water. It was a beautiful sight, 
 and such as I cannot fully describe. 
 
 How soothing is such a scene to the mind ; 
 if you have ever beheld the sun set at sea, 
 has it not calmed your spirits, and led 
 your thoughts on high ? I doubt not it has ; 
 let me tell you always to observe these 
 

82 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 scenes, for they will elevate your feelings 
 and raise your affections to the source of 
 all good. 
 
 It was nearly dark when our boat touched 
 the shore. The full moon was just rising 
 as I passed over the rock where some of 
 the first settlers landed when they came to 
 America, and I saw by the light, the church 
 they erected more than an hundred and 
 fifty years ago. 
 
 I arose early in the morning, and soon 
 the family assembled and the servants were 
 called. A chapter was read, the morning 
 petition was offered, and a father's blessing 
 implored. We then went to the Sunday 
 school, where there were many children en- 
 gaged with their teachers. In the after- 
 noon we attended church. There was some- 
 thing interesting to me, as a child was 
 there presented at the altar, and the minis- 
 ter took it in his arms and dedicated it to 
 the Lord, and we united in the psalmody 
 of the village choir. The minister who 
 preached, was quite blind. His sermon was 
 very interesting, and his misfortune added to 
 its impression as he stood there, the messen- 
 ger of God, and uttered his commands from 
 
VISIT IN THE COUNTRY. 83 
 
 the deep convictions of his heart. Yes, my 
 pupils, that good man was full of gratitude, 
 though his eyes were for ever closed against 
 this bright and pleasant world. And we, 
 who have this blessing ; we, who sq^ the sun, 
 the trees, the fields, and more than all, the 
 faces of our dear friends ; shall we not be 
 grateful ? There was something there that 
 touched the heart something that moved 
 the feelings ; and none who listened could 
 fail to learn. 
 
 When we left the house of worship, and 
 went forth and beheld the fair green fields, 
 and the rich fruit of autumn, oh ! who could 
 be indifferent to the lesson that came home 
 so powerfully to the heart? Do you ask me 
 what is that lesson? It is this : It will 
 no doubt be often the case, my pupils, that 
 you will spend a Sabbath in the country ; 
 and you may engage in the services in the 
 house of God with a similar interest, and 
 may go forth, and see the leaves falling to 
 the ground, the flowers faded, the fruits just 
 being gathered, and the whistling wind may 
 remind you that winter is approaching. 
 You, too, may see the sun set, and watch 
 the beauties of the ocean and the earth ; and 
 
84 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 should you, then let your thoughts be raised 
 to the author of all you see ; let these feel- 
 ings go with you from your meditation, and 
 mingle in all your pleasures and amuse- 
 ments ; let them lead your heart to Him who 
 is with you always, and who promises that 
 all his good and faithful children who de- 
 light to think of his goodness, and meditate 
 on his power here, shall enjoy his presence 
 hereafter. 
 
 " I hear it in the rushing wind, 
 
 The hills that have for ages stood, 
 
 And clouds, with gold and silver lined, 
 
 All still repeat that God is good. 
 
 The restless main, with haughty roar, 
 Calms each wild wave and billow rude , 
 
 Retreats submissive from the shore, 
 And joins the chorus, God is good. 
 
 The moon that walks in brightness says, 
 That God is good : and man, endued 
 
 With power to speak his Maker's praise, 
 Should still repeat that God is good." 
 
85 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 SINGING ; OR, THE PRESENT TO A SCHOOL* 
 
 How pleasant it is to unite in 
 
 i 
 
 Jit a Sunday school. It is delightful to hear 
 the soft voices of children joined in praise 
 to their Maker, and it cannot fail to touch 
 the hearts of all who listen. I have some- 
 times asked myself, as I saw a whole school 
 arise to sing their morning hymn, what is 
 the object of singing ? Is it simply to hear 
 those sweet and thrilling sounds ? or, to re- 
 lieve from fatigue and give a variety? No, 
 it is to arouse and animate to a closer at- 
 tention ; and by a variety of sound to pour 
 forth the sentiment of the hymn with a 
 warmer gratitude to God. 
 
 My pupils, it is important that this sub- 
 ject should be understood by you ; and 
 whon you do understand it, you will engage 
 in it with greater interest and pleasure. 
 Music animates and raises our devotional 
 
86 TEACHER S GIFT. 
 
 feelings ; but it is not excitement only that 
 is intended by this service. When you sing, 
 you utter words, and these words convey 
 thoughts, and to whom are these thoughts 
 addressed ? to God, or to those about us ? 
 
 When you rise up to pray, to whom do 
 you speak ? you know without my telling 
 you. If you will examine the hymns gene- 
 rally sung, you will find they mostly contain 
 a petition for some blessing, or the confes- 
 sion of some sin ; if so, is it not a part of 
 worship ? and do we not then address our 
 Father in heaven the same as when we pray 
 to him ? 
 
 Take the following verse of a hymn which 
 is so often sung before we separate at school 
 and church, as an example. 
 
 " Lord, dismiss us with thy blessing, 
 
 Hope and comfort from above, 
 Let us each, thy peace possessing 
 Trust in thy paternal love." 
 
 Now what do we ask when we sing this 
 hymn? We pray that we may have the 
 blessing of our Father when we separate ; 
 that the hope and comfort which comes 
 from above may be enjoyed by us ; that we 
 may possess a heavenly peace, and trust in 
 
SINGING. 87 
 
 our Father's love. You perceive at once, 
 that when you sing this hymn, you profess 
 to hold communion with the father of your 
 spirit. For you ask him to impart these 
 blessings to you. 
 
 That you may understand this better, let 
 us see what the Bible says about singing. 
 You remember Paul and Silas were cast into 
 prison ; and when there, they sung songs of 
 praise to God ; and when the children of Is- 
 rael passed through the Red sea, they sung a 
 hymn of praise on the banks ; and was it 
 not a hymn expressing their gratitude for a 
 safe deliverance ? If you will read the 
 Psalms of David, those that were sung at 
 the temple, you will see that they are all 
 addressed to the Deity, and speak of his 
 goodness, power, and wisdom ; and those 
 who sung them worshipped God. 
 
 Remember, therefore, that when you sing 
 you are addressing the Deity. Look at the 
 words of the hymn, and understand them, 
 and let your heart feel the sentiments of the 
 hymn while you utter the words. Perhaps 
 you say you cannot sing ; but this is no 
 matter : in the secret silence of your soul 
 
88 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 you can offer your hymn of praise ; as is 
 beautifully expressed in the following verse, 
 from one of Dr. Watts's hymns : 
 
 " Be earth with all its scenes withdrawn, 
 Let noise and vanity be gone 5 
 hi secret silence of the mind 
 My heaven and there my God I find." 
 
 It is not the sound that is observed by the 
 Being whom you address, but the earnest- 
 ness and sincerity with which you think of 
 the sentiments or thoughts contained in the 
 
 B 
 
 hymn ; and he knows this, for he is the 
 " searcher of hearts.'' When you engage 
 again in this service, my pupils, forget not 
 this, and you will soon perceive how much 
 this adds to its interest. 
 
 Great attention has been paid, in some 
 Sunday schools, to this part of the exer- 
 cises, and the children often meet before 
 commencing, and practise with some one 
 of the teachers. Not long since, the super- 
 intendent of a Sunday school explained to 
 the children the object and design of sing- 
 ing, to which they paid great attention, 
 and have since then engaged in this ex- 
 
SINGING. 89 
 
 ercise with great interest and true devotion ; 
 arid now you would be delighted to see this 
 little congregation all rise and join in the 
 hymn, with their eyes fixed on their books, 
 and hear their litlte voices mingling with 
 their teachers, in their morning and even- 
 ing hymn. 
 
 One Sabbath a gentleman came into this 
 school, and addressed the children, and 
 was so much gratified with the order and 
 attention, that at the request of the super- 
 intendent he presented him with the follow- 
 ing hymns not long after. They are in- 
 tended to be sung on commencing the ser- 
 vices in the morning, and before separating 
 in the afternoon. Read them, my pupils, 
 bearing in mind, that when they are sung 
 they are addressed to the Deity, and you 
 will see how much this adds to their inter- 
 est and power. 
 
 MORNING HYMN. 
 
 Our Father, here again we raise 
 To thee our morning hymn of praise, 
 For all the joys thy smiles afford 
 This sacred day thy holy word. 
 
90 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 We thank thee, Father, that to thee 
 Again we bend the lowly knee 5 
 That here in peace and prayer we stand, 
 Upheld by an immortal hand. 
 
 Deep may each word, with wisdom fraught, 
 Sink in each heart and fill each thought 5 
 Each sullying stain of sin restore, 
 And guide our lives till life is o'er. 
 
 Whate'er we do, where'er we be, 
 Keep us from sin and error free j 
 Thy Sabbaths may we so improve, 
 As best to win our Father's love. 
 
 That Father's arm our souls will keep, 
 Will guard our steps, will watch our sleep; 
 His thought each lighter thought repress, 
 His word will guide, his love will bless. 
 
 So shall we then, when life shall end, 
 A nobler, holier Sabbath spend ; 
 Where thy good children all shall be 
 Join'd in one family with thee. 
 
 EVENING HYMN. 
 
 As fades the evening light away 
 Along the glowing western sky, 
 
 May every earthly thought to-day, 
 Born of this world, in brighter die. 
 
HYMNS. 91 
 
 And may the teachings of thy word 
 This day received, through lite remain j 
 
 Their gentle influence still afford 
 To soothe each woe, to calm each pain. 
 
 Wilt thou be with us when apart, 
 Together, wilt thou be our stay j 
 
 And grave upon thy children's heart, 
 The lessons of this holy day. 
 
 So when temptation's evening rolls 
 Her shadows dim, o'er faith's pure sky, 
 
 Shall thy blest word steal o'er our souls, 
 And bid the gathering darkness fly. 
 
 In the calm twilight of the soul, 
 Let their blest influence be given, 
 
 Till far o'er earth and sin's control, 
 We leave this world ; to rest in heaven. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 DISAPPOINTMENT J OR, THE BLIND ORPHAN 
 BOY. 
 
 THERE are few boys or girls who have 
 not met with disappointments. But while 
 all meet them, how few remember that they 
 are ordered in wisdom ; how few see a Fa- 
 ther's hand in them, and consider that they 
 are sent to try their virtue. This remark ap- 
 plies to the most trifling, as well as to the 
 greatest disappointment. How often does 
 the least contradiction cause a general dis- 
 cord in a family ; how often does a shower 
 of rain make a little girl cross a whole after- 
 noon. When we are thus unable to bear 
 trifling disappointments, we are soon quite 
 unfit for great ones. Yet disappointments 
 will come, and if being impatient prevented 
 them, there would be an excuse for it ; but it 
 only makes us less able to bear them. Let 
 me assure you that we have that within us, 
 
THE BLIND ORPHAN BOY. 93 
 
 which will enable us to endure what now 
 seems impossible, and meet with resignation 
 that which seems too hard to be borne. In 
 order to show you something of this resig- 
 nation, I will tell you of a little boy I once 
 knew, and have often seen ; and you will see 
 how great a disappointment he met with, 
 and how trivial ours are in comparison 
 with his, though we frequently bear them 
 with less fortitude than he did. 
 
 His name was William ; he lived in 
 
 B , and when he was young his father 
 
 and mother died, and he went to live with 
 his aunt, who kindly offered to support him. 
 She was poor, but was desirous he should 
 be a good boy, so she sent him to a Sunday 
 school. After he had been there some 
 months, his aunt found it necessary, in 
 order that he might aid her in obtaining 
 a livelihood, to put him as an apprentice to 
 a book-binder, and shortly after this he left 
 the Sunday school. While he attended 
 there, he did not seem to try much to learn, 
 and appeared to pay but little attention to 
 what was told him. He had not been long 
 at his trade, before he began to feel a pain 
 in his eyes. Silent and uncomplaining, he 
 
94 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 went day after day to his business, and car- 
 ried home his earnings every Saturday night 
 to his aunt, until gradually his sight began 
 to fail him, and he became at last totally 
 blind. 
 
 Such was the situation of his aunt, that it 
 was often not in her power to do more than 
 give him his meals in bed each day, and he 
 was obliged to lie there some times many 
 days together. Thus confined, and depriv- 
 ed of exercise, after having been accustom- 
 ed to a great deal, he grew weak very fast, 
 and pined away, and this was not all ; long 
 confinement deprived him of the use of his 
 limbs, and he was unable to sit up without 
 assistance. It was an affecting sight to look 
 at him on his sick bed, with a bright, cheer- 
 ful countenance, his eyes now gazing round, 
 and now apparently fixed on surrounding 
 objects, and yet covered with an impercep- 
 tible veil, which shut the light for ever from 
 his view. .t 
 
 William had a little cousin who l : i / 
 far from him, who felt very much f*. 
 and used to go every day, the moment his 
 school was out, and sit by his bedside and 
 read to him, and try to amuse him. He was 
 
THE BLIND ORPHAN BOY. 95 
 
 with him nearly all the time, so that his 
 friend feared that if he did not play more 
 out of doors, he would be sick. " But no," 
 said the little boy, " I can run about and 
 can see, but poor William is blind and can 
 hardly sit up, he is so weak, and I want to 
 make him as happy as I can ;" so he kept 
 faithfully by his little friend, and made eve- 
 ry effort to amuse him. 
 
 One day a lady who lived in the next 
 house happened to hear of William, and 
 went in to see him. After conversing with 
 him some time, she inquired if he had ever 
 attended a Sunday school, to which he re- 
 plied, yes, and added that Mr. B was 
 
 his teacher ; and on being asked if he would 
 like to see him, he was very much delighted, 
 and said that he should. The lady went to 
 the teacher and told him, and soon after he 
 went to see him. William conversed with 
 him a long time, and told him all that had 
 happened since he left the Sunday school; 
 was very evident that the instruction 
 dvice of his teacher had not been for- 
 gotten by him, by the simplicity and plea- 
 sure with which he related it. And never 
 shall I forget his meek and gentle reply 
 GA 
 
9G TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 when I asked him what he desired most: 
 "That if God were willing, he prayed that 
 he might see again." You can better ima- 
 gine the feelings of his teacher, and how 
 sad he was, than I can tell you. It was not 
 for him to look idly on and see him in this 
 situation. Some exertions were necessary, 
 in order to see if his sight and his strength 
 could not be restored ; and these exertions 
 were made. His teacher thought it would 
 be a good plan to have him go to the hospi- 
 tal, where they would be more likely to do 
 him good, than any where else ; and he 
 went and saw some gentlemen, and after 
 much trouble, succeeded in getting permis- 
 sion to have him go there ; and William's 
 little* heart beat with joy, when he was told 
 that he was going to the hospital where 
 they hoped to cure him. And while one 
 and another stood round his bed, he repeat- 
 ed this joyful news to them again and again, 
 and said that he hoped " soon to be there." 
 His wishes were granted ; and soon, b/ 
 the active exertions of his teacher, he was 
 comfortably and pleasantly situated there. 
 He received every medical assistance the 
 institution afforded. Soon after he had 
 
98 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 been there, an operation was performed, 
 which was attended with little pain. It was 
 then that his friends were each day anxiously 
 expecting to hear how much better he was, 
 and were not without hope that when the 
 bandage should be taken from his eyes, he 
 would be able to see a little, and that he 
 would gain strength enough to walk again. 
 Day after day and week after week 
 passed away, and he gained but little : still 
 they hoped ; but at length the time arrived 
 when he was to leave, and, sad to say, 
 all expectation was gone, and he was 
 carried to his home, which he left with 
 such hopes, as blind and feeble as when he 
 first left. How sadly was he disappoint- 
 ed, but he did not grieve, and no murmur, 
 no complaint escaped his lips. His teacher 
 did not forget him ; but witnessed with de- 
 light his resignation, and loved him more 
 than ever. His aunt, finding that he would 
 not get well, and being unable to support 
 him, wrote to a brother who lived in a neigh- 
 bouring town, and told him the situation of 
 the lad, when he requested that he might 
 come and live with him. His teacher heard 
 this with sorrow ; but knowing that it was 
 
THE BLIND ORPHAN BOY. 99 
 
 for the best, he improved the short time he 
 had to be with this little boy, arid learn from 
 him a lesson of resignation in disappoint- 
 ment. And the little heart of his pupil, 
 which beat so high with hope before, though 
 it had been sorely tried, melted with grati- 
 tude at the thought of his faithful friend, 
 who, when called to bid him farewell, could 
 only breathe in silence the prayer, " May he 
 who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, 
 protect this orphan boy." 
 
 Yes, my pupils, " if God were willing, he 
 prayed that he might see again," were the 
 words of this little boy ; and when he return- 
 ed sadly disappointed, not a murmur es- 
 caped his lips ; there was no complaining, 
 no repining heard from him. Let us re- 
 member this when we are disappointed, and 
 let no ill feelings rise in our hearts, nor 
 murmur escape our lips ; but let us say all 
 things are ordered in wisdom, and are best. 
 Yes, best ; for the Being who guides the 
 stars in the heavens, and the sun in his 
 course ; who takes care also of the birds 
 in the fields, arid the smallest insect, does 
 not overlook us, but orders all in mercy ; 
 and what He does promotes our happiness, 
 6c 
 
100 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 though we, who are short-sighted and know 
 not what is best for us, may be disappointed. 
 Let us give our hearts to Him, and though 
 others may disappoint us, He will not, for 
 He is unchangeable, "the same yesterday, 
 to-day, and for ever." 
 
 " But, Lord, whatever grief or ill 
 
 For me may be in store, 
 Make me submissive to thy will, 
 And I would ask no more. 
 
 What sorrows may my steps attend, 
 
 I never can foretell; 
 But if the Lord will be my friend, 
 
 I know that all is well." 
 
101 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " WATCH, THAT YE ENTER NOT INTO 
 TEMPTATION." 
 
 THERE is a verse in the Bible that is very 
 interesting, and one the Christian often re- 
 peats. Do you not remember when our 
 Saviour was with his disciples at Gethse- 
 mane, he told them that his heart was ex- 
 ceedingly sorrowful, and he requested them 
 to stop, while he went apart to pray. He 
 soon returned to them, and found them 
 sleeping. He then uttered these impressive 
 words, " Could ye not watch with me one 
 hour ? Watch, that ye enter not into 
 temptation." 
 
 And these words he says even now, at this 
 distant period, tp us. Yes, my pupils, you 
 must watch. Yes, watch when at play with 
 your companions, lest you begin to feel 
 cross, and to contradict one another, and 
 insist upon your own way. Or, if your little 
 
103 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 associates are in the wrong, and use unkind 
 words, then watch the opportunity, by con- 
 ciliatory and affectionate words, to restore 
 peace; instead of unpleasant looks, give 
 them smiles ; and let every one see that 
 you watch to be good. 
 
 Has it ever happened that your parents 
 have requested you to do something, and 
 you refused ; and on their repeating the re- 
 quest, has your bosom swelled with passion, 
 and you have forgotten that little children 
 must always be gentle and obedient? "for 
 of such," as our Saviour says, "is the king- 
 dom of heaven. If this has ever been the 
 case with you, watch yourself, and the next 
 time you feel disobedient, think of God who 
 sees you, and who will reward or punish you 
 according to your behaviour. Be silent 
 when ill-natured, until you have conquered 
 your temper, and can speak with calmness. 
 
 Have you ever known the time when you 
 wished to do something, but a voice within 
 seemed to say you must not ; when you 
 were earnestly desired by jfplaymate to go 
 to some place, but conscience said no, you 
 must not ; when you were just on the point 
 of doing wrong, yet doubted, and hesitated ? 
 
WATCHFULNESS. 103 
 
 At such moments as these watch ! watch, 
 lest you be led into temptation. 
 
 It is particularly at those moments when 
 ill feelings begin to rise within you, that you 
 must watch. But even when joy and glad- 
 ness fill your hearts, and every thing seems 
 happy and pleasant around you, it is even 
 then you must watch, lest you forget God, 
 the giver of all your blessings, and your 
 minds be withdrawn from the Being you 
 should serve. Yes, watch, for the hour will 
 corne when pleasure will fade. 
 
 Be then moderate in the enjoyment of 
 your pleasures, and place not your happi- 
 ness in these alone, but realise that there 
 is another world, for which you should be 
 preparing every moment. Always act so as 
 to please God, and not as if you were seen 
 only by man. In this spirit enter upon all 
 your duties. In solitude and silence watch, 
 that no impure thought dwell in your bo- 
 som. In the world watch, that it do not 
 allure you from duty. With your associates 
 watch, that passion be calm, and that you 
 give offence to no one. And in the solemn 
 hour of your devotion, when you look up 
 to your Father, oh ! then let the language 
 
104 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 of your hearts bear witness, that as you pray 
 in sincerity, so you have watched faithfully, 
 and thus have become prepared to enjoy 
 the promised glory and honour of an im- 
 mortal life. 
 
 ft Oh, watch and pray ! thou can'st not tell 
 
 How near thine hour may be j 
 Thou can'st not know how soon the bell 
 
 May toll its notes for thee 5 
 Death's thousand snares beset thy way, 
 Frail child of dust oh, watch and pray ! 
 
 Fond YOUTH as yet untouch'd by care, 
 
 Does thy- young pulse beat high ? 
 Do Hope's gay visions, bright and fair, 
 
 Dilate before thine eye ? 
 Know, these must change, must pass away 
 Fond, trusting youth oh, watch and pray ! 
 
 Oh, watch and pray ! the paths we tread 
 
 Lead onward to the grave j 
 Go to the tornbs and ask the dead, 
 
 Ye on life's stormy wave ; 
 And they shall tell you even they, 
 From their dark chambers WATCH AND PRAY I" 
 
105 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE GRATEFUL WELCOME ; OR, REWARD FOR 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 A GREAT many years ago, there lived in a 
 large city some persons who became dissa- 
 tisfied with their rulers and their laws ; and 
 thinking that they could live more happily 
 elsewhere, they resolved to leave their home 
 and go to another place. They met toge- 
 ther and talked over the subject, and agreed 
 to start at a certain time for a new coun- 
 try. Men, women, and children assembled 
 at the still hour of night, and silently de- 
 parted. 
 
 They embarked, and after sailing many 
 days and months, wearied and fatigued 
 they reached at last their new country ; but 
 when they looked around in the tent they 
 had built, they missed many of their associ- 
 ates who had died on the way. They were* 
 strangers in a strange land, and they knew 
 
106 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 not the people they met, and could not 
 speak their language ; but they handed to 
 them the green sprig of a tree, as a sign of 
 peace and friendship, arid the people then 
 understood them and shook hands with them. 
 
 They suffered much for a long time, but 
 at last other persons went to live with them, 
 and carried with them tools and articles that 
 tlu y wanted. This they did every year, till 
 in a few years they formed quite a colony 
 by themselves, and had their own laws, and 
 lived as they desired. But at length the 
 mother country sent governors to them, who 
 oppressed them with taxes, and they rose in 
 rebellion. They were but a handful of men, 
 comparatively speaking, unarmed and not 
 regularly trained for battle ; and they had 
 little more to support them than their good 
 cause. 
 
 At last an army was formed and sent to 
 this new country, to make the people obey 
 the governor, and they were all prepared to 
 go to battle. In a distant country there liv- 
 ed at this time a young man who was very 
 rich; he heard of the sufferings of the poor 
 people in this new country, and he resolved 
 to take his money and go to them, and give 
 
REWARD FOR BENEVOLENCE. 107 
 
 it to the people, and offer his services to aid 
 in their army. Not long after this he car- 
 ried them his money, and offered to fight 
 himself, and soon th^y put him among the 
 chiefs of their army. He remained many 
 years with them, and fought many battles, 
 till at length the people were victorious ; 
 and then, after losing a great part of his 
 property and running great hazards, he re- 
 turned home. 
 
 After many years, when the young coun- 
 try he had assisted had become, from a bar- 
 ren waste, a populous and well cultivated 
 region, and when he had grown aged, and 
 those that had fought there with him had 
 become old, and a few only of these remain- 
 ed, he thought he should like to go arid see 
 the people ; though he expected a few only 
 would remember him, and that most of them 
 would know little about him. But he was 
 mistaken. 
 
 The people, as soon as they heard of his 
 coming, grateful for his kindness, urged him 
 to visit them, and see what use they had 
 made of the liberty they owed in part to him. 
 They immediately sent out their largest ship 
 to bring him ; and when he had reached the 
 
108 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 shore, they displayed flags upon their ships, 
 and the military companies, dressed in their 
 beautiful uniforms, were ready to receive him. 
 The bells rung, the cannon roared, and the 
 aged and the young all shouted, hail, hail to 
 our friend ! The banners waved at every cor- 
 ner, triumphal arches were thrown across 
 the streets, and his name was written in 
 large letters over them, and the multitude 
 that crowded round his chariot, shouted and 
 liiiz/Hcd with grateful joy, as he was drawn 
 through the streets. What a happy sight it 
 must have been to have seen the gratitude 
 paid this good old man, and how delightful 
 must have been his feelings, and their's too ; 
 for gratitude is one of the sweetest feelings 
 the heart of man can experience. 
 
 History tells us that he went to one city, 
 and amidst the sound of trumpets and drums 
 that greeted him, there appeared a long line 
 of little children dressed in white, which, 
 when he had reached, the procession stop- 
 ped, and a little girl came forward and was 
 taken into the carriage. She then repeated 
 some poetry very prettily, and while the 
 tears rolled down the old man's cheek, she 
 placed a wreath of flowers upon his head, 
 
110 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 and uttered those familiar words, '' Wel- 
 come, welcome Lafayette !" 
 
 Upon the mention of this name, you may 
 perhaps remember that happy day, and the 
 gratitude and affection that then filled your 
 bosoms, as you looked at this good old 
 man, and thought how much he had done 
 for your country. And now I have oi^e 
 question to ask : who was it that sent La- 
 fayette to our fathers? who was it that in 
 those days assisted us so much ? You an- 
 swer, the wise Governor of the world. Yes, 
 yes, it was that great and good Being. And 
 it is not Lafayette alone that he has sent to 
 us: he has sent us his son Jesus Christ, to 
 teach us our duty, to tell us that we are to 
 live for ever, that we are to be judged ac- 
 cording to our deeds, and to point out to 
 us by his own example the way to be good 
 and happy ; and it was this Saviour whom 
 he sent, that suffered and died for us. 
 
 My pupils, as we think of these many 
 and precious gifts from our Father, and of 
 this great love in his Son toward us. do we 
 feel the same gratitude to him for sending 
 us that Saviour, as we do for sending Lr.- 
 fayette. Does the same feeling of sorrow 
 
ttEWARD FOR BENEVOLENCE. Ill 
 
 fill our bosoms when we recall the suffer- 
 ings of our Saviour, as when we hear of 
 Lafayette's imprisoninent and sickness ? 
 Do we feel the same affection of love to- 
 ward our Saviour when we contemplate his 
 character, his mildness, gentleness, and pa- 
 tience amidst his enemies, as we do when 
 we think of the courage and activity of La- 
 fayette ? 
 
 Remember the great difference there is 
 between the two : one was an earthly bene- 
 factor, and aided our fathers in handing 
 down to us that which will promote our 
 temporal comfort and happiness ; the other 
 was a spiritual, heavenly benefactor, and 
 has imparted to us that which will give us 
 not only happiness here, but happiness be- 
 yond the grave. 
 
 Look but a moment around you, and see 
 the bounties of creation spread out for our 
 comfort by your kind Father. Look at the 
 heavens above and the earth beneath, and 
 see his wisdom, power, and goodness, and 
 all these wonderful works moving on in 
 beautiful order, and all, all made for us, and 
 contributing to our happiness. Think, too, 
 of the precepts of that Saviour, of the holy 
 
11*2 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 truths he taught, and of the importance and 
 value to us of those words he once uttered, 
 " I am the resurrection and the life : as I 
 live, ye shall live also." Think how differ- 
 ent this world appears to us from what it 
 otherwise would in the promise he has 
 given us of another, where goodness, piety, 
 and virtue shall be rewarded. 
 
 Where is our gratitude, if these great 
 gifts will not excite it? for what can com- 
 pare with them ? Let our heartfelt thanks 
 be given to him who has done so much for 
 us. Do we say we will give them ? that a 
 warmer gratitude shall glow in our hearts 
 for our heavenly than for our earthly bene- 
 factors ? That nothing shall go beyond our 
 grateful love to our Father, and the Son of 
 his love ? Never forget, then, that he has 
 given us a test by which we may know our 
 love, and a way in which we can show 
 it. " Whosoever loveth me," saith Jesus, 
 " keepeth my commandments." May we 
 daily exhibit this love in the obedience of 
 our lives. 
 
113 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 RESIGNATION J OR, THE PUPII/S DEATH. 
 
 I HAVE endeavoured to show you, in some 
 of the stories I have related, that religion 
 can enable us to bear old age and poverty, 
 as well as death. But you know that death 
 is not confined to the old ; the young die, 
 and they too need to be sustained by faith. 
 Yes, even in youth, when we have parents 
 and friends, and every wish gratified, we 
 must not live without preparation for death ; 
 without remembering God, who will call us 
 to himself we know not how soon. 
 
 If you were told that you should be obli- 
 ged to leave your home, and to go and live 
 for ever with a new father whom you had 
 not seen, would you not be anxious to hear 
 about him, to send him messages, to be- 
 
 ' O > 
 
 come acquainted with his character, and to 
 learn what would please him ? Surely you 
 would. Now this is exactly your case. 
 
 TA 
 
114 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 True, you do not know when your Father 
 in heaven will send for you ; it may be to- 
 morrow, or it may be next month, or it may 
 not be for many years. Be ready, then, 
 seeing that you "know neither the day nor 
 the hour." Your case may be like the lit- 
 tle boy I once knew, who was taken sick 
 after a few days' illness, and died. I trust, 
 if it should be so with you, you will be as 
 well prepared as he was, that you will have 
 Jong known and loved your Father, and 
 that you will be glad to go to your home in 
 heaven. 
 
 But I will tell you more about this lad. 
 One day he complained to his friends that 
 he had a headache. Little was thought of 
 it at first ; he took some soothing medicine, 
 and retired to rest. He awoke in the morn- 
 ing, and still complained. He did not get 
 up that morning; a physician was sent for, 
 and he gave him more medicine, but it did 
 not relieve him. Every noise disturbed him, 
 and his sufferings increased. Another phy- 
 sician came, but alas ! his disease was in a 
 remote and small organ of the head, hid 
 far from the reach of medicine. No eye 
 could penetrate there ; the skill of man was 
 
THE PUPIL'S DEATH. 115 
 
 baffled, though only a small organ was af- 
 fected. To ease his pain was all that could 
 be done. 
 
 Two Sabbaths passed away, and the Sun- 
 day-school teacher missed his little scholar. 
 He inquired for him, and learned that he 
 was sick. Re went to his home, and saw 
 him, but how he was changed ! That eye 
 which had been so often fixed with the 
 deepest interest and affection on his teach- 
 er, was now dull and insensible. He heard, 
 neither the kind inquiries of his teacher, 
 nor his mother's sobs, as she told him how 
 he had suffered, and how patient he was. 
 But he had been obedient to his parents, 
 and kind to his playmates ; he had told the 
 truth, and had been honest and just in all 
 his little affairs ; had delighted to pray to 
 his Father in heaven, for he knew that one 
 day he must go to that Father, and so he 
 tried to please him ; and now that he was 
 suddenly called from this world, he was 
 prepared. He had no fears his only regret 
 was occasioned by the thought of leaving 
 his parents ; and it might with truth be said, 
 that this was the only sorrow he had ever 
 caused them. 
 
 TB 
 
116 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 His teacher left him, and in the evening 
 of that day he died. And on the next after- 
 noon his classmates, of both his daily and 
 Sunday school, paid him their tribute of 
 affection, and in company preceded his re- 
 mains to the grave, followed by his teachers. 
 They arrived at the spot, and stood with 
 uncovered heads while the body of their 
 little friend was deposited in the tomb. 
 
 My pupils, what an impressive lesson 
 does he give us. A few days before his 
 death, he was with his schoolmates, listen- 
 ing to his teacher. Now his example speaks 
 to us, what does it tell us ? not merely that 
 the young may die, but that in every period 
 of life goodness and virtue excite our ad- 
 miration and love. 
 
 He was but a little boy, yet his docility, 
 his industry, his truth, and his piety, had 
 rendered him old in virtue, and must strongly 
 impress you with the remark of the wise 
 man, that life is not to be valued for its 
 length, but its usefulness ; his days " were 
 few, but full.' 1 May we follow his example, 
 and if it please our heavenly Father to re- 
 move us like him to another state of exist- 
 ence, may we, like him, be fitted for our 
 
THE PUPIL'S DEATH. 117 
 
 new home. Remember that death does not 
 change the character, it only changes the 
 world in which we are to live. This little 
 lad I have told you of once lived with us ; 
 but he now lives in another world, and his 
 piety and devotion are engaged in a holier 
 community, in the presence of that Being 
 to whom they have here so often been di- 
 rected. Forget not that Jesus says to his 
 true disciples, c< I go to prepare a place for 
 you, that where I nm there ye may be also ;" 
 let us constantly be preparing to meet him, 
 that when the last hour comes, and come it 
 must to all, it will find us ready to meet 
 our Saviour and our God. Then, after a 
 blameless life, a peaceful, happy death, 
 
 " Our's will a joyful resurrection be." 
 
118 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ABSENCE FROM HOME ; OR, THE UNCLE'S 
 VISIT TO HIS LITTLE FRIENDS. 
 
 NOT far from the city of Boston, there 
 lived a respectable farmer and his wife, and 
 with them boarded three little girls. Their 
 father was dead, and their mother was 
 obliged to be separated from them a short 
 time ; so she sent them to this good man's 
 to board, and they went every day to school 
 from his house. Their house was quite old, 
 painted red, but very pleasantly situated, 
 and the honeysuckle was trained round the 
 door. 
 
 It was not only a pretty place without, 
 but a neat one within. The land round it 
 was very rocky, and near it was a high 
 mountain, which extended many miles 
 along the edge of the village. Had you 
 passed by it at sunset, when the week 
 days' work was done, and seen the two 
 
120 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 little girls sitting near the door, the old 
 gentleman and lady at the window with 
 their children near them, you would not 
 only have said as you passed by, " Oh, what 
 a pretty place !" but you might have said al- 
 so, " what a happy family." 
 
 As I was well acquainted with them, I 
 will tell you how they passed their time. 
 They rose early in the morning, said their 
 prayers, learned their lessons, and went to 
 school ; and when night came, they returned 
 home, and after their supper of bread and 
 milk, as they heard the cows coming from 
 pasture, they would run out to see their fa 
 vourite little cow, which was their pet. 
 
 Now this favourite cow had grown up 
 since they had lived in the farmer's family, 
 and was so gentle that she would stand quite 
 still while they stroked her white nose, and 
 brushed her brown hair. After caressing 
 her some time, they would next visit their 
 birds, for they had found a nest on the 
 ground, and fearing some bad boys might 
 find it out, they had carefully concealed it 
 with grass. 
 
 Then after a walk, they would return 
 home, and run up to the old farmer, and 
 
THE UNCLES VISIT. 
 
 tell him all they had seen, and he would 
 patiently listen to them, and answer all their 
 questions. Presently, as night set in, a 
 candle, the bible, and spectacles, were put 
 on a stand, and placed before the venerable 
 old man ; a chapter was read, and all the 
 family knelt as he offered his evening prayer. 
 The "good night," and the kiss were mu- 
 tually given, the Sunday clothes were nicely 
 laid on the chair, at the side of the bed, and 
 our little friends retired to taste the peaceful 
 slumbers which a well spent day always 
 gives. 
 
 One day, as they were returning from 
 school, they observed a stage stop before 
 the cottage, and presently a gentleman got 
 out, and when he turned round, they all 
 exclaimed, " it is our dear uncle." The 
 meeting was a joyful one, for they loved 
 him tenderly ; and Anne and Sarah took 
 his hand, while Elizabeth went dancing on 
 before. They entered the house and intro- 
 duced him to the farmer's wife. 
 
 The next morning they took him to see 
 the cows, the oxen, and sheep ; and related 
 while walking, all the news they could think 
 of. They then showed him their books, and 
 
122 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 read to him, and he was quite satisfied that, 
 though away from their mother, they had 
 carefully improved their time, and not 
 wasted it as some little girls do. On the 
 contrary, each had found leisure in the play 
 hours to make a little present, to give their 
 mother and uncle. I need not say that 
 their uncle was pleased with these tokens 
 of regard. 
 
 After a short time, the uncle was obliged 
 to leave them. They felt sad at the separa- 
 tion, and could not prevent a few tears from 
 falling. They were not unhappy because 
 they could not go with him to their home, 
 for they remembered it was their mother's 
 and uncle's wish, that they should remain 
 there, and after he had left them, they 
 returned to their lessons and daily duties 
 with new zeal and increased interest. 
 
 Perhaps, my pupils, some of you are se- 
 parated from your parents ; and you may 
 sometimes feel sad and discontented, and 
 loiig for the comforts of home. If you are 
 not away from home, be grateful that in 
 this respect you are more highly blessed 
 than many children if you are, remember 
 these little girls, and knowing that it is the 
 
THE UNCLE'S VISIT. 123 
 
 wish of your parents that you should be 
 separated from them, seek by diligence 
 in your studies, and docility to your 
 teachers, to improve every moment of your 
 precious time. Let the remembrance of 
 your parents stimulate you to be, and to do 
 all they wish, and then, believe me, you will 
 not find the time of absence long ; and you 
 will not wish to return home till your pa- 
 rents wish you to do so. You will then be 
 happy, for the good and amiable are always 
 happy ; and you will gain at once the ap- 
 probation both of an earthly and heavenly 
 parent. And forget not, my pupils, that 
 wherever you may be, as the little hymn 
 says, you are never alone oh, no ! 
 
 " If you could but find some cave unknown, 
 
 Where human feet had never trod, 
 Yet there you could not be alone, 
 On every side there would be God. 
 
 To those who seek him, he is near ; 
 
 He looks upon the heart ; 
 And from the humble and sincere 
 
 He never will depart. 
 
 He sees our thoughts, our wishes knows, 
 
 He hears our faintest prayer j 
 Where'er the faithful Christian goes, 
 
 He finds his Father there." 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE PILGRIMS J OR, PERSEVERANCE AND 
 PIETY. 
 
 IT was on a dark and dreary night in Sep- 
 tember, ahat one hundred and twenty men, 
 women and children, stood anxiously watch- 
 ing on the shores of Lincolnshire, in Eng- 
 land. At length the long wished-for boat 
 arrived, and shivering with cold, and with 
 many sad feelings, they crowded into her as 
 many as could go; and was pushed off 
 for the vessel that was waiting in the stream 
 to take them to a far distant land. The 
 boat \vas no sooner off than they saw a 
 band of horse, and a body of armed men 
 hastening towards them on land. 
 
 The boat at last reached the vessel ; a 
 part only of those who were to leave were in 
 it, and that boat was to return and take the 
 remainder, and also some of the provisions 
 there, that was left on shore. But alas, the 
 
126 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 sight of the horsemen had at once filled 
 them with fear, and they did not dare to 
 return. Parents who had united to share 
 their fate together, were by this means sepa- 
 rated, and families were thus torn asunder, 
 never to embrace each other again. The 
 horsemen appeared with the officers of jus- 
 tice, and led those on shore away, and put 
 them in prison ; and when they released 
 them, their friends and protectors had gone, 
 and they had no houses or homes to go to, 
 and were thrown on the world objects of 
 charity and pity. 
 
 The vessel set sail. A storm had long 
 been gathering, the sky was dark and lower- 
 ing, and the vessel began to rock violently. 
 It was now the month of December, and 
 they had not found their new home, and 
 had suffered much from cold, anxiety, and 
 sickness ; but they kept up their spirits 
 they looked up to their Father in heaven, 
 and implored his blessing. 
 
 A storm arose, their little vessel was turn- 
 ed out of its course, and they nearly lost 
 their way, and were in danger of being ship- 
 wrecked. At last, after tossing about some 
 time, they saw land, and all hailed the spot 
 
THE PILGRIMS. 127 
 
 they had chosen for their home. At length 
 the vessel reached the shore. It was a wil- 
 derness, inhabited by savages. 
 
 An Indian approached them, and was 
 soon followed by others. The strangers 
 went to meet them, and by signs showed 
 they were friends ; and peace was soon esta- 
 blished between them. They cleared away 
 a little spot, and built their tents, and made 
 a small settlement. But soon many of their 
 number died, their hardships were so great, 
 and they were called to follow many to the 
 grave. How sad they must have been in 
 that dreary spot. How they must have wept 
 at the thought of the home they had left. 
 How they must have felt, thus solitary, 
 friendless, and alone, in that wild wilderness. 
 
 You will ask me if all this is true ? who 
 were these people ? where did they go ? and 
 when did this happen ? Yes, it is true. 
 The persons I have been telling you about 
 were the Pilgrim Fathers, who landed two 
 hundred and ten years ago, on the rock at 
 Plymouth, on the 22d day of December. 
 
 It was this cold month, when the ground 
 
 is white with snow, arid the trees hang with 
 
 icicles, and the water is frozen, that our 
 
 forefathers landed ; v it was then that they 
 
 8 
 
128 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 first set their feet on this shore. Shall this 
 season come and pass by, without notice ? 
 No, when we meet at this season, my pu- 
 pils, in the enjoyment of so many blessings, 
 let us recall the sufferings and trials of our 
 fathers ? of those whose courage and forti- 
 tude gave us our happy home. They, amid 
 sickness and sorrow, were not discouraged ; 
 they felt and acknowledged that the Lord 
 is good to all, and that not a sparrow falls 
 to the ground without his notice. 
 
 My pupils, when you gather round the 
 comfortable fire on a winter's evening ; when 
 you climb up a parent's knee, and receive a 
 parent's smile ; ask, oh ! then ask, who 
 were the Pilgrim Fathers? Let the cold 
 north wind bring them to mind ; and go to 
 the books that contain the history of their 
 sufferings, and you will there trace the 
 goodness and power of that Being, whose 
 tender mercies are over all his works. 
 
 Let the thought of that goodness inspire 
 you with the spirit and perseverance once 
 exhibited on the dreary shores of Lincoln- 
 shire ; and with the piety and devotion wit- 
 nessed on the rock of Plymouth, that you, 
 too, may leave a name that will be cherished 
 and honoured like that of the pilgrim fathers. 
 
129 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 AFFECTION ; OR, LOVE TO PARENTS. 
 
 IT is an excellent plan to think in the 
 evening upon what we have performed or 
 neglected to do during the day, We shall 
 feel most like meditating at this time, and 
 we shall always have enough to think about. 
 One evening, as I was sitting in my room, 
 I fell into a train of thought. I called over 
 many things, and among others I remem- 
 bered that the next day would be Sunday, 
 and that I should meet my class at the Sun- 
 day school. I asked myself, what shall I 
 say to them ? what lesson shall I give them ? 
 Has anything taken place the last week 
 that made me think of them ? Yes, there 
 has. I saw this afternoon a gentleman who 
 had just lost his good mother, and he was 
 sad, as you may well suppose. He con- 
 versed with me some time ; and as he 
 thought of her past affection and kindness 
 to him, he wept. "Oh," said he, " I trust 
 
130 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 I have been a dutiful son, but she is now 
 gone." 
 
 We are too apt to forget the many bless- 
 ings we enjoy, till we are deprived of them. 
 We complain sometimes because we have 
 to go to school or to work ; but if we were 
 taken sick and were confined to the house, 
 we should long to go out, and think any la- 
 bour better than the pain and privations of 
 illness. When our parents ask us to go on 
 an errand, or to do some favour, we some- 
 times answer " I am tired, or busy, and can- 
 not go ; can you not get some one else to 
 go;" but were we unable to walk, how 
 quickly should we tell the girl or boy who 
 should say this, ri How gladly i would go if 
 I could." 
 
 It too often seems to us a matter of course 
 that we should run home after school, and 
 sit by a goo 1 fire, and have a bountiful table 
 spread before us ; it is a common thing 
 with us, perhaps, when our father returns 
 at night, to run to meet him to receive his 
 smile of approbation, and to hear him in- 
 quire of our mother if we have been good 
 children. All this is pleasant, is delightful; 
 and our hearts beat with joy when we think 
 
LOVE TO PARENTS. 131 
 
 of it. Bat sometimes this picture changes 
 for a very different one, and when our father 
 returns he sees pouted lips, and red eyes, 
 and ill-natured countenances. Sometimes 
 he asks a favour, and the answer is, " I do 
 not want to do that, father ;" and our good 
 mother is unkindly answered, and the loud 
 voice is heard, and tears are seen. 
 
 My pupils, why is this, how does it hap- 
 pen ? Listen, and I will tell you. Among 
 many reasons that may be given, one is that 
 you do not consider sufficiently how good 
 your parents have been to you; if you did 
 you could not be so insensible to their affec- 
 tions, you would not do anything that would 
 pain or grieve their hearts. Did^you think 
 of this as you ought, unkindness would ne- 
 ver be shown by you. 
 
 Who, in the helpless days of infancy, 
 watched you night after night, as you lay in 
 the cradle ? Who played with you, carried 
 you in their arms, and kept you from ten 
 thousand dangers, day after day, long be- 
 fore you could take care of yourselves? It 
 was your mother. Who, at midnight, when 
 you cried, was with you in a moment to see 
 that you were safe and warm ? Who brought 
 SA 
 
13*2 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 home the little books and the playthings for 
 you, and asked only your love and a kiss? 
 Who is it that has often taken you upon his 
 knee, and while you listened^with profound 
 attention, told you the pretty story? And 
 who, when you had grown older, and went 
 to school, got everything you wished that 
 was proper for you ? Whose love is it that 
 your daily faults cannot wear out? who lis- 
 tens to all your little troubles, shares in and 
 soothes your griefs, and is never wearied 
 with your complaints? Is it not your pa- 
 rents? And can there be disobedient chil- 
 dren ? If there be, it is certainly owing to 
 their not having reflected on these things 
 before. 
 
 My pupils, be not thus neglectful of and 
 unkind to those who have done so much for 
 you; devote every moment of your lives to 
 them, for you know not how soon they may 
 be taken from you ; and then you will bit- 
 terly lament every act of disobedience. Are 
 there any ofcyou who weep alone, who have 
 no tender mother or kind father to sympa- 
 thise with you in sorrow, or participate in 
 your pleasures ? You know, then, how dif- 
 ferent all other love is from that you once 
 
134 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 possessed. And could it be restored, could 
 you see them and enjoy their love and so- 
 ciety again here, oh ! never would you be 
 guilty of disobedience or unkindness again, 
 but you would rejoice to suffer and labour 
 for them ; experience having long since 
 taught you that your happiness is consulted 
 by no one as it is by them. 
 
 Remember, now, their advice, and place 
 your hope and trust in God, who never 
 changes, who will be your father and friend 
 for ever. To some of you, now is the ac- 
 cepted time. Go to them with softened 
 hearts, and ask them to forgive you for what 
 you have done wrong, and show your affec- 
 tion by the obedience of your lives. To 
 them you owe existence : make it a blessing 
 to them and yourselves, by striving con- 
 stantly to do the will of your parents on 
 earth, and your Father in heaven. 
 
 " My father, my mother, I know 
 I cannot your kindness repay, 
 But I hope that as older I grow, 
 
 I shall learn your commands to obey. 
 
 For fear that I ever should dare 
 From all your commands to depart, 
 
 Whenever I 'm saying my prayer 
 I will ask for a dutiful heart/' 
 
135 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE TWINS ; OR, HOW MUCH A CHILD 
 
 CAN DO. 
 
 " WHA.T can such a little boy as I do, for 
 mother?" said a lad of my acquaintance the 
 other day. The question struck me at the 
 time as one that children sometimes ask, 
 when they seek an excuse for being negli- 
 gent in their duty. A few days after, this 
 remark of the boy was recalled with pecu- 
 liar force, by the following circumstance. 
 I called at the store of a friend, one warm 
 afternoon in June, when I saw a woman sit- 
 ting near the door, with her two little chil- 
 dren, about four years of age, at her sidej? 
 They were twins, and were dressed exactly 
 alike. I was attracted by their neat ap- 
 pearance and smiling countenances, and as 
 I love good children very much, I began to 
 ask their names, and many other questions, 
 in order to hear them talk. My friend, 
 8c 
 
136 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 seeing me so much pleased with them, told 
 them to sing one of their hymns to me, and 
 instantly they both began to sing their little 
 song of praise ; and their voices were so 
 soft, that I was quite delighted. 
 
 In a few moments I took my friend aside, 
 and inquired about them ; for, though they 
 looked comfortable, I could easily see that 
 they were poor; and I had no doubt they 
 had called upon this gentleman to procure 
 some assistance, as I had long known him 
 to be the " poor man's friend." Immedi- 
 ately on my asking him about them, he told 
 me that a little more than four years ago, a 
 person came to his store on a cold day in 
 winter, and told him that there was a wo- 
 man in F street, in a destitute situa- 
 tion, and was deserving aid from the bene- 
 volent, and requested him to call and see 
 her. He did so, and went in the evening, 
 and found her, as the gentleman described, 
 in a small but comfortable chamber in the 
 back part of the house. 
 
 There were three boys in the room ; and 
 these two twin children, then a few days old, 
 were on the bed in one corner of the room. 
 After telling her the object of his visit, 
 
THE TWINS. 137 
 
 and inquiring respecting her wants and her 
 situation, she told him that her husband 
 was a carpenter, that a few months ago, he 
 had an excellent offer made to him, if he 
 would go to a distant part of the country 
 and do some work, and return again in a 
 few months. 
 
 So large was the sum offered him, and 
 business being very dull, he was induced 
 to accept the proposal, in the hope that he 
 should return in a short time, and bring 
 home with him money enough to support 
 his family for some time. With these hopes 
 he left his home. Some months passed 
 away, and nothing was heard from him ; 
 and having expended the little money that 
 was left, and not being able to earn any 
 herself, her infants requiring much care, she 
 made known her wants to a neighbour. 
 
 Her boys attended school regularly, and 
 constantly employed their leisure in assist- 
 ing their mother by taking care of the chil- 
 dren, going of errands, and picking up 
 chips. By the kindness of friends she re- 
 ceived assistance ; but often, said my friend, 
 have I gone to her house and found her des- 
 titute of food, though the benevolent neigh- 
 
138 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 hours did not leave her to suffer when they 
 knew it. During this time, these good 
 children, instead of being a burthen, were a 
 comfort; instead of teasing and disturbing 
 her, they were always ready to give a part 
 of their scanty meals to each other. 
 
 Soon the two eldesl boys were sent where 
 they could earn a living; one was sent to a 
 farmer, and the other to a paper-maker. 
 But though separated from their mother, 
 they did not forget her, but often wrote 
 to her, and seemed very anxious to grow 
 old enough to get some money to give her. 
 Joseph, the younger boy, who was at home, 
 tried all in his power to help his mother, 
 and was very attentive and kind to her. 
 
 Three years p:isscd a\v;:y, the latter part 
 of which she obtained work enough to 
 main little fami'y ; and the children, 
 
 as t! older, grew more mindful of 
 
 all her wishes. About this time, the poor 
 wiman received intelligence of the death of 
 her husbijnd. Thou she felt that she was 
 left alone, with no other support than God, 
 and she felt more anxious than ever to re- 
 new her efforts. 
 
 It was often her custom to sing as she 
 
THE TWINS. 139 
 
 sat rocking her twins to sleep, or watched 
 them playing on the floor at her feet. Once 
 or twice she observed that they began to 
 join her song, and caught here and there 
 a note or two right ; so she repeated them 
 very often, and in a little time they learned 
 to sing a whole hymn. 
 
 A few weeks since, continued my friend, 
 I stopped in to see her towards evening, 
 and found h,er sitting by the window, her 
 day's work being over. Every thing round 
 her was neat, and all was still, except the 
 little twins who were sitting in the rocking 
 chair at the side of their mother, singing 
 to her. How prettily they sing, said I; 
 " oh, yes," replied the mother; " when the 
 evening comes, I place them at my side, 
 and let them sing to me, and I seem to for- 
 get for a time my cares and troubles ; and 
 when I hear their sweet voices singing their 
 hymn of gratitude in the evening, young as 
 they are, they amply repay me for all the 
 anxiety they have caused me." 
 
 Some days after this, the mother received 
 a letter from one of her sons, in which he 
 mentioned that his mother must not think 
 he had forgotten them, for he remembered 
 
140 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 them every day; and he hoped when he 
 was free that he should be able to have a 
 farm ; then his mother and sisters and bro- 
 thers, should come and live with him ; he 
 said he was saving the money his friends 
 gave him, and intended to send it to his mo- 
 ther to buy something for the children ; and 
 he closed with giving some good advice to 
 his younger brother. You would have been 
 pleased to have seen how delighted his mo- 
 ther was on reading this letter, and how 
 much pleasure it gave her to see that he 
 tried to be a good boy, and though absent 
 from home that he had not forgotten her. 
 
 As my friend related to me how happy 
 this mother was on receiving this letter, and 
 also his visit to her in the evening, I could 
 not but think how much a little child can 
 do. Even these little twins who could hard- 
 ly speak plain, made their good mother hap- 
 py ; and the kind and affectionate letter 
 from her son bade her hope that his wish 
 would be realized, that one day when he 
 was older they all should live at his house in 
 the country ; and she might hope this if he 
 continued to be what he then was, a good, 
 dutiful and affectionate son. 
 
THE TWINS. 141 
 
 My pupils, do you not wish to be as good 
 and affectionate as these children? "But," 
 you may perhaps say, " these children were 
 poor, and my mother does not want me to 
 pick up chips, or give up a part of my din- 
 ner." Perhaps not, yet you will, if you ob- 
 serve, find as many things to do, let your 
 situation in life be what it may. 
 
 I once knew a little girl, who from being 
 much indulged, found that it cost her a great 
 effort to give up her own will on every oc- 
 casion. She grew very selfish, and as she 
 loved nice things, she frequently took the 
 best piece of cake or pie herself. Her mo- 
 ther told her of it, and made her sensible 
 that in seeking her own gratification only, 
 she obtained but a short lived pleasure ; 
 whereas when she yielded her wishes to an- 
 other, she felt happy by remembering it a 
 long time afterwards. 
 
 Anne, (for that was her name,) was anx- 
 ious to be good, and as she loved her mo- 
 ther, she resolved to conquer her selfish 
 propensities. Her mother was an invalid, 
 and the only fruit she could relish was 
 grapes. Now Anne loved grapes very 
 much herself, and as they lived in the coun- 
 try this fruit was not often to be procured. 
 
142 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 A day or two after Anne had resolved to 
 reform, her mother sent her to a neighbour, 
 who gave her a fine bunch of grapes. It 
 was a great temptation, for she had not seen 
 any before for a long time ; but instead of 
 eating them she asked for a sheet of paper 
 to put them in, and carried them home, 
 without taking one by the way. She took 
 them immediately to her mother, and beg- 
 ged her to accept them. At first her mo- 
 ther desired her to take a part of them, but 
 she said no, for she had begun to enjoy the 
 pleasure of self-government. Her mother 
 therefore took them, and from this time 
 Anne was on all occasions the last to think 
 of herself, and she found opportunities fifty 
 times a day to do something to oblige others. 
 
 She had saved all the money that had been 
 given her for a long time in order to buy a 
 doll. As her parents lived in retirement, and 
 had few visitors, she had very little money. 
 One afternoon a poor child, of about eight 
 years old, came in from the road to ask 
 charity ; the child's feet were cut by walk- 
 ing without shoes, and she cried bitterly. 
 Anne soon found out the cause, and whis- 
 pering to her mother, said, " how much will 
 
THE TWINS. 143 
 
 a pair of shoes cost ?" <v -Her mother told 
 her ; " it is just about the sum I have saved 
 for my doll," returned she. "Mother, let 
 me give her my thick shoes, and buy me a 
 pair with this money ; I can do without a 
 doll." Her mother consented, and Anne 
 had the pleasure of seeing the little child 
 go away full of gratitude towards her little 
 benefactor, while she felt also the truth of 
 that remark of our Saviour, " it is better to 
 give than to receive." 
 
 And now, my pupils, are there any among 
 you, who feel animated by the desire to be 
 useful to others like these children ? If so, 
 the very wish shows you will soon have the 
 opportunity ; for when we feel a strong in- 
 clination to do any thing, we are not long 
 without finding the way. A thousand times 
 in your past life you have omitted pleasant 
 duties because you wanted inclination, but 
 now that you sincerely wish to be useful, 
 every hour of the day will present an op- 
 portunity. 
 
 Did you ever consider that time is so pre- 
 cious that " God never gives us but one mo- 
 ment at a time." Improve your hours there- 
 fore well ; be humble, obedient, affectionate, 
 
144 TEACHER'S GIFT. 
 
 V 
 
 and constantly try to do the will of God and 
 of your parents, with simplicity of heart. Be 
 gentle and docile ; like the angels of God, 
 full of sweetness, purity and love. What 
 sight is more sad than a passionate, self- 
 willed, disobedient child ? We expect from 
 youth, those who enjoy the advantages of 
 good education and kind parents, all that is 
 lovely, innocent and good ; and Jesus, you 
 know, says, " of such is the kingdom of 
 heaven." On parting with you, therefore, 
 now my pupils, I would say " be faithful ;" 
 yes, "be faithful even unto death," and the 
 promise of your heavenly Father to you is, 
 
 " I WILL GIVE THEE A CROWN OF LIFE." 
 
04GCj