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your questionings, the inexpressible manner which such an appreciation inevitably produces,- and you have penetrated to their hearts, and won a hold upon them that nothing else in the wide world could give you, and of which nothing in the world can supply the place.

Thus have I endeavored to say, in a plain and direct manner, what I deeply feel that it is most important at this period should be uttered and believed. I have exaggerated nothing. What I have said, I hold to with my whole heart. I magnify my office in the Sunday School, just as I magnify it in the pulpit. For I measure its greatness by the loftiness of its principles, the grandeur of its purpose, the vastness of its possible success.

And have I spoken anything to dismay and repel any soul among you? Have I presented such a portraiture of the Sunday-school ideal, or of the requisites for successful teaching, that there are those who will be led to shrink from continuance in the work in which they have hitherto been engaged, and dissever themselves from the Sunday School? Let me not believe it, I beseech you, of a single teacher among you! Rather let it be our earnest course, if we be conscious of vital deficiencies, to seek the footstool of the Infinite Love; to pour out our soul in prayer for light and life and consecration; to sit at the Saviour's feet until we enter into his being; and so to be lifted up and enlarged and vivified and glorified, that the holy greatness of this cause shall break on our grateful sense, and in humble sacrifice, yet glowing zeal, we shall prosecute in resolute persistence our hallowed toil.

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I. THE BRIDGE.

WHEN rosy twilight filled the west,
Upon the bridge I stood;

Before me lay the hills at rest,
Below me rolled the flood.

Up from the sea, behind the town,
Rose the full moon; and far
Down the steep sky, and farther down,
Dropped the dear evening star.

The fretting waters smote the piers,
And faintly lashed the shore;
A sound as if of falling tears
Swelled sadly evermore.

But in the light the small waves leapt,
And seemed alive with glee;
The city, bathed in silver, slept,
And silver shone the sea.

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Clogged with a fleet of fallen leaves,

Launched by the tempest's thousand hands, Where now the naked forest stands,

And here and there a linnet grieves

For sweet mates flown to other lands; ·

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The western rose of twilight seemed to freeze
Before the breath of Night.

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SINCE "One Side of the Question" presents the great difficulties which lie in woman's path in finding for herself a remunerative field of usefulness, when it is a matter of necessity that she should do so, and "Mistaken Methods" are brought forward to show what she must not do, though the latter side of the question is somewhat suggestive of what she may do, still it seems there is a sphere which has thus far failed of being well filled, and which few, if any, fit themselves regularly for, though the remu

neration would be far more satisfactory than that of the needle.

The field which is thus comparatively unoccupied will at once be recognized by any one who has attempted the almost hopeless task of finding a person competent to fill, even temporarily, the mother's place in a household, when sickness, death, or necessary absence have made that place vacant. A nurse, indeed, can minister to the sick, and ignorant servants can perform the coarse manual labor; but who shall do the thinking, and planning, and economizing? Who shall preside at table, and shed sunshine in the house, and care for the deserted little ones, physically, mentally, and spiritually? I said spiritually, for many little feet have gone astray when the watchful mother's care has been suspended or removed for ever.

"Educate one's self for a housekeeper," says some fastidious milliner's apprentice (just now out of work), “and to keep other people's houses!" And why not, indeed? It is unfashionable, certainly; but it is to be hoped that, when females are obliged to earn their own support, they will be brave enough to be unfashionable; and why should it be more unfashionable to keep your friend's house, than to make her bonnets or dresses, or teach her children, or sew for the shop-keepers?

It certainly would be more healthful than plying the needle, and ought to be more agreeable than teaching to those individuals who are not so "oddly constituted " that they find no "bitterness in school-keeping."

In many households there are grown-up daughters whose chief joy and duty it should be to minister to a suffering member of the family, and to preside when the mother is providentially removed; but too often they are found useless in a sick-room, unless it be to "fan the sufferer, or smooth the pillow, or bring fresh roses or the cup of cold water." They have read in the magazines that these are beautiful privileges and duties; and so indeed they are.

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