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a chord in the heart of every child of Adam, that responds to the evil around it. It is true that the conscience of a well-instructed child will not approve of the particular act of evil; but when next betrayed into the commission of a fault that is similar in kind, he will try to pacify his conscience by calling to mind how many grown-up persons do much worse things. The habit of men's "measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves,” is acquired at an early period of life; and clings to them continually, until the opposite habit of comparing themselves with the perfect standard afforded by Christ, is fully formed in them.

It is a sad presage for the future, when the natural guardians of youth are themselves the ministers of evil example. I one day asked a little girl to whose parents I was paying a visit, where her mamma was. 'I left her in her dressing-room,' said she, 'storming and raging at Walter, about a piece of lace poor Walter had burnt with an iron that was too hot.' The flushed countenance of her mother, who entered the room soon afterwards, induced me to believe that the daughter's account was not exaggerated. On another occasion, a little boy horrified his mother and myself, by pouring forth on his younger brother, a volley of names and epithets not often heard within the precincts of a drawing-room. His father, who that moment entered at the open door, and had heard his extraordinary performance, seized him roughly by the shoulder, and said: 'How dare you use such abominable language, you naughty child!' The little boy, nothing daunted, said to his father very coolly Papa, these are the very words you say to coachman and groom when you are angry with them.'

I fear there are too many teachers of youth, who over-rate the power of divine instruction, and take but little into account the almost irresistible influence exercised over the youthful mind, by the words, the tempers, and the actions of those with whom they dwell. Yet to suppose that a daily task of set lessons, and a due portion of sage advice, can counteract the effect of our opposing influence continually around them, is about as reasonable as it would be to imagine that a few grains of medicine could keep the body in a healthful state, while its daily food was mingled with a large portion of poisonous ingredients.

MARTHA MARKWELL.

GOD is my strong salvation,
What foe have I to fear?
In darkness and temptation
My light, my help is near:
Though hosts encamp around me,
Firm to the fight I stand;
What terror can confound me,
With God at my right hand?

Montgomery.

A CHAPTER ON SHADOWS.

A LIGHT was shining from the windows of an upper chamber in a crowded part of London, during the twilight of a bright summer's evening. It was the nursery of little Emma T, a child of three years old, who was lying sick of the measles. Near the crib in which she lay sat her mother, trying by every method in her power to compose her child to sleep. Imagining that she had at length succeeded, by the stillness and silence of the little sufferer, she quietly took up a book, and read at intervals. The shades of evening deepened, and the different objects in the room could only be seen indistinctly, by the faint. glimmer of the lamp. The watchful mother had just begun to take an interest in the book which she had hitherto perused mechanically, when a slight movement in the crib caused her to look instantly that way. To her surprise, she saw one little hand lifted above the sides of the crib, and reflected in distinct outline upon the wall of the chamber. It was almost instantly withdrawn; then held up again, and presently the head, shoulders and bust of the little girl appeared, and as quickly disappeared within the little dormitory.

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Emma, what is the matter?' said she, rising and advancing to the bedside.

'Oh, mamma, what is dat?' exclaimed the child in accents of alarm, again raising her hand, and point

ing to the wall, which once more exhibited the shadow that had frightened her.

'My dear child, that is only the shadow of your hand: look! now I stand here, you can see the whole of my shadow; it reaches from the top to the bottom of the wall almost; and there is my hand and my fingers, all of them: see, as I move them, how the

shadow moves upon the wall!'

'What is dey saddow, mamma?' said the terrified child, more alarmed than ever by the exhibitions which were intended to allay her fears.

'It is the reflection of any thing that comes between the candle and that which the candle shines upon, my dear. When I stand between the lamp and the wall, then you see my shadow.'

'Are you not 'faid of dey saddow, mamma?' 'Not in the least, my dear.'

'Is papa 'faid of dey saddow?'

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'What makes it come, mamma?'

Mamma was just beginning to feel a little puzzled how to answer her child's question satisfactorily, when a second interrogatory followed.

'Does dey lamp make dey saddow come, mamma?' 'Yes, my love, we should not see the shadow if it was not for the lamp.'

'Den take dey lamp away.'

'Nonsense, Emma, we should be quite in the dark.' It was however vain to expostulate, and Emma's mother, dreading lest her present excitement should increase the fever that was running high in her veins, summoned an attendant, and had the light removed; then seating herself by the side of the crib, she held the hand of the little girl in hers, and watched hour after hour,

till her deep and regular breathings betokened that the child had fallen into a profound sleep. The grey light of early morning had dawned ere the little sufferer awoke to a sense of pain and weakness: but the crisis was past, and in a few short days, health again returned to the couch of the invalid, and little Emma T saw no more of shadows, for in conformity to the simple habits of childhood, she was always laid upon her pillow, and wrapped in rosy slumber,' long ere the purple of the summer sunset had faded into night.

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The recollection of little Emma's alarm had passed away from the mind of her mother, and, as the latter imagined, from that of her child also, when one evening in the ensuing October, the little girl and her brothers were playing quietly in one corner of the somewhat gloomy dining-room. The father of this family had returned home from a distance, and having dined at an earlier hour than usual, was enjoying a comfortable siesta in an easy chair. The children had been hushed into whispers by their mother, and, unwilling to disturb her husband by the entrance of candles, the whole party continued in comparative silence and darkness, till they were at length illumined by the light which suddenly burst forth from a brilliant street-lamp nearly opposite to the window. In a moment, an exclamation of alarm broke from the lips of little Emma, and running towards her mother, she exclaimed, ' Oh, mamma, dere it is again!' 'What? my dear,' said the astonished parent. 'Oh, mamma, dey saddow!'

"You foolish child, have you not forgotten that?' Then taking her on her lap, and addressing her husband, who was roused by the commotion which

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