row, which this relation creates, is almost incalculable. And what is more becoming, more lovely, than the union of those little hands, and the mingling of those young hearts, who have been cradled on the same bosom, and are still sheltered by the same roof? And what so honorable and engaging, in after life, as brothers and sisters still affectionately united; most interested in each other's prosperity, and most happy in each other's pleasure? who, to the love of nature, instinct, and the nursery, have added the stronger and sacred bond of matured affection, and whose honor, and happiness, and safety, lie in continuing and strengthening it in riper years?

There is something always affecting in parental care, and in the warm glow of filial love; and yet there is an indescribable interest thrown around the fraternal affections, which often surpasses both, and which borrows from both a peculiar sacredness. As parental care must soon cease, and filial love find its objects no more on earth, the fraternal relation, where peace and mutual happiness are studied, exhibits the fruits of the one, and opens a broad and beautiful sphere for the exercise of the other. And whoever beheld a family, where this peace and happiness were sought, without an assurance of its continued prosperity and blessing, when parents shall be no more? And though their offspring are left tender and young, and exposed, in their mutual love, the parental blessing lives, and, through the eternal covenant, smiles the mercy of God. Let brothers and sisters study peace, and promote, as their own, each other's happiness; and so live, that their purest and highest joys shall be found in each other's society.

There is more than language can describe, in brothers treading hand in hand the path of life, and sisters resting in confidence and love on a brother's smiles, and leaning for protection and support on a brother's arm.

As, arm in arm, the forest rose on high,
A lesson gave of brotherly regard;
And, on the mountain brow expos'd,
Bearing the blast alone-the ancient oak
Stood, lifting high his mighty arm, and still,
To courage in distress, exhorted loud.

Nor should this interest and love be permitted to die away in after years, but be cultivated, with increased care, as new and more distant relations are formed; when fears, perhaps, begin to rise, that your love and interest may become estranged from those whose happiness has so long been in your hands. That sister is unworthy a husband's confidence, who can erase from her heart the affectionate remembrance of a brother left at home to cheer the parental fireside; and that brother is a brute, who, in a husband's love, can forget a sister's want and tenderness.

In these separations, which must occur in life, do not lose nor fail to express mutual and continued remembrance. Forget not that you are brothers and sisters still, and that, with all the relations you can form on earth, you can know no more of these. Often exchange the kind expressions of continued interest and affection. Pledge and extend aid and relief where needed, and carry to your graves the remembrance that you are "members one of another." United by nature, be united by grace, in the sympathies of a sanctified fraternity.

Where there are brothers and sisters, it is painful to see them always separate. It indicates a want of the finer feelings of our nature; of those delicate and affectionate sensibilities which are the surest pledges of future dignity and decorum. The eye of an intelligent observer here reads more of character and prosperity than you can imagine.

One of the finest writers on domestic prosperity and the fraternal duties says, "Seek your happiness in each other's society. What can the brother find in the circle of dissipation, or among the votaries of pleasure, to be compared with this? What can a sister find amidst the concert of sweet sounds, that has music for the soul, compared with this domestic harmony? Or, in the glitter and fashionable confusion, and the merry dance, compared with those pure, calm, sequestered joys, which are found at the fireside of a happy family? What can the theatre yield, that is comparable with this?"

O, evenings worthy of the gods, exclaimed
The Sabine bard: O, evenings, I reply,
More to be praised and coveted than yours,

As more illuminated, and with nobler truths,
That I, and mine, and those we love, enjoy:
Cards were superfluous here, with all the tricks,
That idleness has ever yet contrived,

To fill the void of an unfurnished brain;

To palliate dullness, and give time a shove.

There can be no spot more sweet, profitable, and enchanting, than that domestic circle, where wise and affectionate parents witness the fruit of their labors, in the love and interest to make happy, which pervade the hearts and actuate the lives of brothers and sisters. They now most amply repay the labor and the care bestowed, and give the pledge of mutual love and protection, when parental care and kindness shall be suspended by death.

Original.

TWO WAYS OF CORRECTING A FAULT.

"WELL, Sally, I declare! you are the worst girl that I know of, in the whole country!"

"Why, mother! what have I done?"

"See there! how you have spilled water in my pantry! Get out of my sight; I cannot bear to look upon you—you careless girl!"

"Well! mother, I couldn't help it."

This conversation I recently overheard between a mother and her daughter. Mrs. A., the mother, is a very worthy woman, but very ignorant of the art of family government. Sally, her daughter, is a heedless girl, of about ten years old. She is very much accustomed to remove things out of their proper places, and seldom stops to put them in again. On the occasion referred to above, she had been sent to put water into the tea-kettle, and had very carelessly spilled a considerable portion of it upon the pantry floor. After the above conversation, which, on the part of the mother, sounded almost like successive claps of thunder on the ears of her daughter, Sally escaped, in a pouting manner, into

an adjoining room, and her mother wiped up the slop in the pantry.

Well, thought I, my dear Mrs. A., if that is the way you treat your daughter, you will probably find it necessary to wipe after her a great many times more, if you both live! Such family government, as here set forth, seems to me to be liable to several serious objections.

The reproof was too boisterous. Children can never be frightened into a knowledge of error, or into conviction of crime. It is their judgment, and their taste for neatness and order, which need training, and not their ears.

It was too unreasonable. The child was, indeed, careless, but she had done nothing to merit the title of "the worst girl in the country." Children are sensible of injustice, and very soon find it difficult to respect those who unjustly treat them.

It was too passionate. The mother seemed to be boiling over with displeasure' and disgust; and, under this excitement, she despised her darling child; the very same, that in a very short time afterward, when the storm had blown by, she was ready to embrace in her arms, as almost the very image of perfection.

It was inefficient. Sally retired, under the idea that her mother was excited for a very little thing, which she could not help. Thus she blamed her mother, and acquitted herself.

Mrs. B. is another mother, in the same neighborhood. She is a very plain woman, of but few pretensions, yet gifted with an unusual amount of good sense. She has a family of very sweet children, who usually listen attentively to her directions, and obey them with cheerfulness and fidelity. Mrs, A. oftentimes wonders why Mrs. B. has so very good children. Says Mrs. A., "I talk a great deal more to my children than Mrs. B. does. I frequently scold them most severely, and I sometimes whip them, until I think that they will never disobey me again. And yet, how noisy, careless, and disobedient my children are! Mrs. B. says but little to her children, and I never heard of her whipping them at all. And yet her family moves like clock-work. Order, neatness, and harmony abound." "Tis even so! And I should like to tell Mrs. A. the grand cause of her failure. She

has not yet learned to govern herself, and it is not, therefore, surprising that her family is poorly governed.

Mrs. B. has a daughter Catharine, about the same age with the daughter of Mrs. A. Not long since, Catharine committed, in a hurry, the same act of carelessness as above related, and Mrs. B.'s treatment of it reveals her secret in family government. On going into the pantry, in a few minutes after, she sees the water on the floor, and immediately calls Catharine, with whom the following conversation ensues :—

"Catharine, my daughter! can you tell me how this water came on the floor ?""

"I suppose, mother, I must have spilled it a few moments ago, when I filled the tea-kettle."

"Why did you not wipe it up, my daughter?"

"I intended to return, and do so, but on getting engaged at something else, I forgot it."

"Well! my daughter, when you do wrong you should try to repair it, to the best of your ability, and as soon as possible. Get the mop, and wipe it up, and try not to do so again."

Catharine immediately does as she is bidden, remarking, “I will try to be more careful another time."

Mrs. A. may be found in almost every community. Mrs. B., though perhaps a more rare personage, yet graces, as we are assured, by her presence, very many families in our land.

W. E. L.

THE FIRST GREAT MISSIONARY.

JESUS CHRIST was the great Missionary, sent of God into our world. And what a missionary was he! He sought not high places among men, but appeared in the form of a servant, and humbled himself. He who was rich, for our sakes became poor. He was a sufferer all his days-a man of sorrow and acquainted with grief. He went about doing good. At length he died, in agony and blood-he died for our sins. Such was the condescension and love of Him who came into the world to save the guilty and wretched.