and their roots the other. Next came a network of timber, beams of houses, broken doors, fragments of mill-wheels, shafts of carts, handles of ploughs, and all the wreck and ruin of the numerous villages which the torrent had first torn to pieces and then swept down the valley in one confused mass. What a melancholy picture is thus presented to the mind!

In circumstances free from such calamities as those now described, there are other and very serious evils. What ignorance and superstition prevail at this hour in many parts of the earth! The people of Esthonia, for example, are remarkably given to the arts of magic, and every other superstition. The trees, caverns, groves, and hills, which their forefathers accounted sacred, are considered especially so among their descendants. At Easter they bring gifts of sticks, branches, and garlands, in some cases; and meat and coins in others. They venerate certain trees as the abodes of great and powerful spirits; and so far do they go, that they will not allow a single berry or flower to be picked which grows beneath their shade, much less a branch to be broken off from them. They

see the "kurrar," or evil spirit, at work in every nook and corner; and it is not uncommon for the whole peasantry of a village to arm themselves with scythes, flails, and whips, for the purpose of driving him out.

Many days are considered unlucky, of which Thursday is one. They never point at the moon with their finger, because if they did they say it will not hereafter turn to dust. They throw every calamity for a month to come on the moon. Nor is it among these people only that such evils prevail. Grievous superstitions are apparent in other places. And you might have lived in the midst of them. And though your lot is cast in England, even here, be it remembered, there are multitudes whose necessities and sufferings are very great.

In a Sunday school, opened for children in the most destitute circumstances in London, a lad was asked by a teacher where he lived, but he made no answer, and turned his head away. A little boy in the same class said that this lad lived nowhere. The teacher, surprised at such a statement, inquired what it meant, when the little boy told him that the father and mother of the other were dead; that no

one had taken care of him for two years; that he was accustomed to sleep under carts, or in sheds, or in a pig's-sty, which was sometimes granted him, but which could not always be allowed. The bereaved lad made no remark while this explanation was given; he stood still and wept. He was at this time nearly naked; the upper part of his body only being covered with a small piece of brown holland. Another boy here remarked, "He always comes down our street at night, and I give him a bit of my supper, or he would have none at all.” "That's true," replied a third; "and, though he is so poor, he always keeps himself clean, for he goes down every morning early, and well washes himself in the Thames."

Ought not you, then, to be thankful? Thankful for your preservation from a thousand evils? Thankful for the comforts with which you are favoured? Thankful for the privileges which every day, and especially every sabbath day, brings before you? May God give to every one of you, my dear young friends, and to me also, a spirit of gratitude!

PLAY.

Come, play when you play with hearty good cheer;
As children, you may have some fun;
Such gambols so pleasant and healthful appear,
Your friends cannot wish you had none.

Should any wrong feeling arise in your breast,
To trouble a sister or brother,

Then let this great evil at once be repress'd,
And prove that you love one another.

Nor ever forget that the weak and the ill
Have to kindness and succour a claim;

It is thoughtless and cruel to indulge your own will,
And always a sin and a shame.

"WHAT can be the matter now? Come, dry up your tears, and tell me what has happened." Such are the words of many a mother, as she sees one of her children returning from the place of their usual gambols, crying and murmuring.

She finds from the reply, that Susan has pinched Mary, that John struck Thomas, or that little Edward was pushed down. It might be supposed, so loud is the screaming, so frequent the sobs, and so abundant the tears, that great harm had been done; and yet, after careful examination, no bruise nor scratch is found. As violent showers are soon over, so in these cases the angry feeling quickly subsides, and when the redness of the eyes is gone, no trace of the mischief remains.

It is, however, worth while for a careful parent to find out the cause of the complaint, in order to guard against its being repeated. In doing so, it will appear, perhaps, that the pain felt was owing entirely to accident, and that the little boy or girl who caused it really suffered more than the other who made so much noise. But it may have been otherwise. Some children, when offended by their playmates, pinch, or scratch, or strike, in a moment; and I have known instances when, from sudden and violent passion, anything near has been seized to increase the blow. Great mischief may thus be done, as by a heavy stone or a knife.

An ape called Ungka may suggest a lesson

H