I cannot make the vacant eye
To beam with intellectual light;
Nor reason's beams anew supply,
To chase the clouds of mental night.

But I can spare the thoughtless jest,
The cruel shout, the laugh of scorn,
That would the idiot's peace molest,
Or harass one to misery born.

To dry the tear on sorrow's cheek,
To hide the faults I can but see,
The good of all mankind to seek,
This, Saviour, is to follow Thee.

JANE P.

A FEW WORDS ABOUT NEWSPAPERS. CHILDREN, I hope that as you read this, or have it read to you, you will fancy all along that I am speaking to you, just the same as though I were sitting with you under the apple tree in the garden, or by the old brook, or in the shop. I dare say you have often noticed your father as he read the newspaper and smoked his pipe when he came home from work, and you have wondered what he could be reading about, all the while that he sat looking down those long columns. Perhaps you have sometimes asked him to read you a bit, and you were sorry when he told you that it was not for children-that it was all about business and politics, and judges, and great and little people of all sorts, that you knew nothing about yet. And perhaps you have wondered whether you would ever be able to read it, and turn it over as he does, with that great crackling noise; and you have thought it too bad that there should not be even one column spared for you.

What your father says about the paper though, is quite true; though I am sorry for it, and should very much like to see a place always kept in it for something that would be interesting to you, so that when your father comes home from work, and you see the end of the paper peeping out of his pocket, you should be the first to be glad. Some day, when you get old enough, it will be all for You will take it in for yourselves, and, some of you may even have a share in making one. Little Charley who got the prize last Christ

you.

mas, just before the breaking up, will write something for it some of these days; you mark my words; nimble-fingered Jack, who cuts out such funny figures with his pocket-knife, may help to set up the type; and fiery Fred, there, who does his work so willingly, and keeps on working so well at the shop, will have his name in it one day as a town councillor or alderman, which, though a great honour, may, I am sorry to say, be a great pity, because he may learn to say such naughty words, and be a great deal more ill-tempered than he is now.

Because, then, I know that some day you may have a great deal to do with newspapers, I want you now to know just a little about them-as to what they are, and how they first began.

Now, of course, you know that everybody likes to hear what is going on in the world about them, both in England and far beyond the seas. You have sometimes seen a servant of a morning leaning over the garden wall or the rails in front of the house, to talk to the servant next door or over the way. They are telling each other the news. Uncle John, too, who sometimes comes in of an evening, does so to hear or tell the news, quite as much as to see how you all are, or to give you a penny. Perhaps he brings a newspaper in his pocket to read to your father about something of importance; and you may have wondered lately to see how solemn they looked, as they read and talked about what they called "The great robe question," and other matters. Please not to ask your father, or even good-natured Uncle John about that great question I have named. Some day you will read all about that solemn subject in the History of England.

You see, then, how very strong people's desire is to know what is going on in the world. They could not get on without news. Now a good many years ago there were no newspapers in England; and people, if they wanted to hear the news from France, or even from distant parts of England, had to go out and find it where they could. They used to meet a great deal in coffee-houses, and places called clubhouses, which were provided almost on purpose to give people an opportunity of meeting each other to talk over the affairs of England and the world. Almost all the news came from London then, and the people who lived there used to

send it by way of written letters all about the country. At last they began to think that all this was a very troublesome way of hearing and sending the news, and so they began a newspaper, to save them the time and trouble of so much writing. Now, you must not think that the first newspaper was anything like those we have now. It was very different indeed. It was a very little one-about as big as the large sized slate that Charley takes to school; and the paper was something like the rough paper they put sugar in at the grocer's, only it was not quite so thick. At first the King was editor, and put in just what he liked, and kept out just what he did not like, and so it was of very little use to the people, because the kings in those days liked to keep the true news away from the people, that they might have all the power in their own hands. But when the people got more liberty they got more newspapers; and, what was better than all, they at last got it into their own hands, and the King was obliged to let them put in nearly what they liked, and so a great many little newspapers were printed and sent all over the country. At last, instead of only one newspaper, they got several, for the people soon began to find how convenient it was, and how much cheaper and easier it was to buy a newspaper than to go to a coffee-house, wasting time and spending money there. And in like manner, when people wanted to send the news to their friends in the country, they soon found how much more pleasant it was to send the newspapers they had bought, than to write such long letters as they used to do. And so, in time, there came quite a cry for newspapers, and everybody wondered how England had so long done without them. Newspaper-making then became quite a trade, and, instead of a few being published once or twice a week, hundreds of thousands came to be published every day. And now, not in London only, but all over the country, the fresh big sheet is published every morning; and for a penny everybody may know something about almost everything that is going on in the world.

But I must bring this letter to a close. I will only say now:-Never forget that the newspaper is one of the things we ought to be the proudest of. Your fathers are proud of the laws, and most of the grand old customs of this land, but they will tell you that they care more for a free newspaper

than almost anything else. And they are right, for where there is no free press all talk about liberty is a cheat, and can never be anything else.

The people who make the newspapers watch the conduct and gather the opinions of all sorts of people, that all the world may know what things are being done and thought all round us. If judges be unjust and do not give people their rights, it is the newspaper that tells the world all about it; and so on with all other things, so that even kings and queens are very careful about what they do, because they know that if they do anything wrong, it is almost sure to be told, in the same way, to all the world.

You see, then, what a fine thing it is to have newspapers at all, and as you get older you must be sure to stand up for them with all your might and main. Believe me your friend,

Sheffield.

JOHN PAGE HOPPS.

A CLEVER CROW.-In the island of Ceylon there is to be found a very cunning and sensible crow, somewhat smaller than our own native one, having a glossy back, and altogether rather an engaging, pretty bird. Now, in the yard of the Governor of Ceylon, a dog was amusing himself by gnawing a bone, the scraps of meat upon which attracted the attention of one of these crows. It alighted on the ground, hopped around the dog and the bone, and evidently waited for an opportunity of seizing the latter. The dog, however, was on his guard, and by certain growls, and probably angry looks, which the bird understood, no doubt, protected his property. The crow was too cunning and too hungry to be baffled. He flew away, but soon returned with a companion. They hopped up to the dog, when the fresh arrival watched his opportunity, and gave a sudden pull at the dog's tail. being used to such an insult, he suddenly turned round, in order to see who had taken this liberty with him. The bone was for a moment left unprotected, and was immediately seized by the first cunning crow, who flew away with it, joined by his companion; and they, doubtless, had a merry feast upon it. Once a Week.

Not

Give light, and the darkness will disperse of itself.Erasmus.

DEER SHOOTING ON ST. GEORGE'S LAKE.

There is one peculiarity among these Indians, however, that they also entrap deer by fire, and shoot them from their canoes at night. This curious mode of hunting is only customary in the musquito country. The deer and stags are driven into the lakes and rivers by these little tormenting insects. They will stand at night for hours in the shallow water refreshing themselves, or will walk some distance up the stream. The Indian hunters drift down with the stream towards them; and, in his canoe, an Indian will make less noise than in his soft mocassins on the snow. In the bows burns a light or torch, which they make very neatly of birch bark. The light throws its beams forward, while the hunter cowers in the shadow of the boat. When the hunter has so managed that the animals cannot scent him, he can come close up to them, and kill them at his ease as the light shines on them. The animals are so little startled by the light, that they will, on the contrary, rush towards it; and cases have been known in which they wounded the hunter with their antlers.--Kohl's Wanderings Round Lake Superior.

Washington's secretary one day pleaded as an excuse for want of punctuality, that his watch had deceived him. "Then," said the statesman, "either you must get another watch, or I another secretary."

There is a crystal door to the child's soul, which opens widest towards home. The golden key to it is in the keeping of father and mother.-Religious Educator.

Ah!
spare yon Emmet, rich with hoarded grain ;
He lives with pleasure, and he dies with pain.

What I spend I lose: what I save I leave behind me: but what I give to the poor, remains with me for ever.— Addison.

The old dispensation of Moses forbade evil: the new teachings of Christ inculcate good.

It would be better for Christians to say more about living well, and less about dying well; for the last is the consequence of the former,