THE MOTHER AND HER FAMILY.

PHILOSOPHY is rarely found. The most perfect sample I ever met was an old woman, who was apparently the poorest and most forlorn of the human species: so true is the maxim which all profess to believe, and none act upon invariably; namely, that happiness does not depend upon outward circumstances. The wise woman to whom I have alluded, walks to Boston, a distance of twenty or thirty miles, to sell a bag of brown thread and stockings, and then patiently walks back again with her little gains. Her dress, though tidy, is a collection of "shreds and patches," coarse in the extreme.

"Why don't you come down in a waggon?" said I, when I observed that she was wearied with her long journey.

"We haint got any horse," she replied: "the neighbours are very kind to me, but they can't spare theirn; and it would cost as much to hire one as all my thread would come to."

"You have a husband: don't he do anything for you?"

"He is a good man; he does all he can but he's a cripple and an invalid. He reels my yarn, and mends the children's shoes. He is as kind a husband as a woman need to have."

"But his being a cripple is a heavy misfortune to you," said I.

"Why, Ma'am, I don't look upon it in that light," replied the thread-woman. "I consider

that I have great reason to be thankful that he took to any bad habits."

"How many children have you?"

"Six sons and five daughters, Ma'am." "Six sons and five daughters! Why, w family for a poor woman to support!”

"It is a family, Ma'am; but there aint one I'd be willing to lose. They are all as h children as need to be; all willing to work, a clever to me. Even the smallest boy, when h a few cents now and then for doing an errand be always sure to bring it to me."

"Do your daughters spin your thread?"

"No, Ma'am: as soon as they are big enough go out to service, as I don't want to keep always delving for me. They are always willi give me what they can; but it's right and fai they should do a little for themselves. I do a spinning after all the folks are gone to bed."

"Don't you think you should be better off, i had no one but yourself to provide for?"

"Why, no, Ma'am, I don't. If I had not married, I should always have to work as ha I could; and now I can't do no more than My children are always a great comfort to me I look forward to the time when they will d much for me as I have always done for them."

Here was true philosophy. I learned a le from that poor woman which I shall not forget. Miss Sedgwick.

LITTLE JAMES MONTGOMERY. JAMES MONTGOMERY was between four and five years of age when he left Irvine; but his recollections of his early years were extremely vivid, and on the occasion of his visit to his native town, he related some of them with great delight to a meeting of the inhabitants assembled to do him honour. One of these anecdotes was connected with his removal from Ireland to the Moravian school at Fulneck, near Leeds, in Yorkshire. He had received the elements of his education from Jemmy M'Caffery, the village-schoolmaster at Gracehill; and, being now between six and seven years of age, it was determined to send him to school in England. Taking a child's farewell of his mother, he and his father embarked in a vessel bound for Liverpool, and were overtaken by a The poet remembered how his childish terror was soothed by the affection of his father, and his confidence restored by his expressions of trust in the providence of God and the love of his Redeemer. The effect produced upon the boy attracted the attention of the master of the vessel, who, himself evincing considerable solicitude in the trying circumstances, observed, "I would give a hundred guineas for the faith of that child." Mr. Montgomery took great pleasure in looking back upon the incidents of the voyage, as having called forth memorable evidence of the simple faith and piety of his father. James was placed in the Moravian institution at Fulneck in October, 1777. Another of his early reminiscences related to this

violent storm.

school. It was visited on one occasion by the celebrated Lord Monboddo, whose figure the poe recalled as dressed in a rough closely-buttoned coat, with top-boots, and carrying in his hand & large whip, such as huntsmen use. He inquired i there was any Scotch boy in the school; and, the teacher having produced young Montgomery, Lord Monboddo looked the future poet sternly in the face, and, after addressing to him some counsels suitable to his years, holding the whip towards him, as the boy thought, in an unpleasant proximity, "Mind, Sir," he added, "that I trust you will never do anything to disgrace your country." "This,' said the poet, "I never forgot, nor shall I forget it while I live. have, indeed, endeavoured so to act hitherto, that my country might never have cause to be ashamed of me; nor will I, on my part, ever be ashamed of her." In 1783, John Montgomery and his wife, the father and mother of the poet, proceded to the West Indies, as Missionaries. The only allusion in Montgomery's poems to the place of his birth occurs in the verses written on revisiting Fulneck school in 1806; and the remembrance of Irvine recalled the image of his sainted parents, both of whom had died in the West Indies:

"The loud Atlantic ocean,

On Scotland's rugged breast,
Rocks, with harmonious motion,
His weary waves to rest;

And gleaming round her emerald isles,
In all the pomp of sunset smiles.

"On that romantic shore

My parents hail'd their first-born boy;
A mother's pangs my mother bore,
My father felt a father's joy;

My father, mother—parents now no more!
Beneath the Lion Star they sleep,

Beyond the western deep;

And when the sun's noon-glory crests the waves,
He shines without a shadow on their graves."

The boy remained for ten years at Fulneck, where he was carefully educated, it being the wish of the Brethren to train him for the ministry; but, he bent of his mind not being in that direction, the ntention was not persisted in. His first poetical mpulse was received from reading Blair's "Grave." At the age of twelve he produced some small poems; End his taste for poetry was cherished by reading xtracts from Milton, Thomson, and Young.-From Dictionary of Eminent Scotsmen."

ONVERSIONS AMONG JEWISH. CHILDREN IN FORMER DAYS.

The children crying in the temple, and saying, Hosanna to Son of David."-Matt. xxi. 15.

Lift up thy hands toward Him for the life of thy young dren."-Lam. ii. 19.

(From the "Friend of Israel.")

WHO has not read the simple and touching story "The Jew and his Daughter?" A dying child, ho had got some glimpses of Immanuel's coun