Music by L. MARSHALL. Words by MARY A. COLLIER. "My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O, Lord; in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up."-Psalm 5, 3. 1st Soprano. Legato. 1. My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, Thou Lord of my life and my love! 2d Soprano. 2. My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, When joy is the sweetener of life, 3. My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, Whate'er be the lot of the day, Bass. My notes will I raise to thy glory, When sparkles the dew in the field, Nor less when the tempest clouds gather, And lightnings flash thro' the sky, THE RAISING OF THE DEAD. EDITORIAL. [See Engraving.] THE simple sentence uttered by Luke, in relation to our Saviour, "He went about doing good," contains a volume of meaning. In one of these excursions of mercy and love, he arrived at a place called Nain a small city of Galilee, situated a short distance from Mount Tabor, and about twelve miles from Capernaum. Accompanied by many of his disciples, or believers, and much people, he came near to the gate of the city, when he beheld a funeral procession, composed of many people of the city. They were bearing to his grave a young man, "the only son of his mother, and she was a widow." She was weeping, and was in great distress. The scene excited the compassion of the blessed Redeemer, and he advanced and spoke to her, and exhorted her not to weep. Urged by his emotions of pity and love, He felt that no time was to be lost in conversation, and He therefore stepped forward at once to the bier; upon which those who bore it stood still. He then said, "Young man, I say unto thee, Arise." "Then he that was dead sat up and began to speak." The Saviour then delivered the young man to his mother. The people were greatly astonished "to see a dead man start up alive out of his coffin in the street," and they glorified God. It was declared, on every hand, that a great prophet had risen; and the news of this miracle went forth throughout all Judea and all the region round about." "The evangelist has left us to conceive the emotions of the heart of the bereaved mother on this occasion, to which no words could possibly do justice." "What can exceed the beautiful simplicity of this narrative? In particular, the simple yet touching enumeration, in the following passage: Now when he came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. Common writers either overlook such circumstances, and fail to arrange them in the delicate order which gives them effect, or they dwell so much on them as to excite weariness." "This miracle was wrought the next day after the Saviour had cured the centurion's servant at Capernaum. Christ was doing good every day, and never was under the necessity of regretting that he had lost a day." COUNSELS FOR PARENTS. BY REV. J. W. GUERNSEY. THE books of a child should be selected with the utmost care. Children will read, and we are glad of it. But we rejoice with trembling when we reflect on the danger to which they are thereby exposed; for, while good men are employed with commendable zeal in providing good books, bad men are still more active in furnishing such as deprave the taste and pollute the morals. Such is almost the entire mass of fictions, from the sturdy volumes of the old romancers, down to the most insignificant modern novelette, which hides its pollution in pink and yellow covers, or spreads it out on the pages of a monthly magazine or the columns of a weekly newspaper. The design of the authors of these works is to furnish something which will sell well. To accomplish this, such subjects are selected as permit the imagination to range at will, without any restraint from reason or propriety. He who can work up a passion to the highest degree, no matter how fiendish it may be,— who can color his scenes most brilliantly, though his lights and shades be borrowed from the fire and smoke of the bottomless pit, is the hero of his day among the admirers of this kind of literature; and the vile effusions of his disordered head and rotten heart are commended to public notice in flaming hand-bills and laudatory newspaper paragraphs, written, probably, by the authors or publishers of the books; and these vile things, thus heralded to the world, depending on a large sale, are offered at prices which defy competition, and thrust upon us, with offensive eagerness, in the sacred privacy of our homes, in hotels, steamboats, cars, and every other place where the vendors of them can get access to us. If left to provide reading for themselves, the young will be most likely to select this, because it is the cheapest, most accessible, and most exciting. And where a taste for this kind of reading is formed, a young person is far on the road to intellectual and moral ruin. It will be hard, indeed, for one who has been accustomed to revel amid the exciting scenes of high-wrought romance, to give himself to those stern studies which discipline the mind by taxing all its powers to their utmost capacity; hard to come up from the deep hells of ideal woe to sympathize with real misery; hard to come down from the high heavens of imaginary bliss to find pleasure in the simpler scenes of real life, and in the details of business often unexciting and laborious. The indulgence of a child in such reading should be guarded against with Argus-eyed vigilance. But the only effectual method to exclude this is to preoccupy the mind with wholesome literature; to furnish it with a full supply of useful books, adapted to its capacity; and, when a taste for sound literature has been formed, there is little danger that the child will ever relish the senseless reveries of the romancer. The associates of a child exert an almost omnipotent influence over its character. If they are depraved in their morals and vicious in their habits, no amount of parental care and instruction can counteract the evil they will do. We have in mind melancholy examples of the destructive influence of evil companions. We know children of virtuous, high-minded parents, who were trained with scrupulous care at home, that have become monsters of sin in early life, from this cause. These sinful courses are often so effectually concealed from parents that they are far gone toward ruin before they are suspected of vice. We recall a youth who was in the habit of drinking daily, and frequently to intoxication, and yet concealed it for years from his parents, though he was living with them, by his own cunning and the adroitness of his drunken associates. - Parents often do irreparable injury to their children, by employing vicious workmen. We know whole families which have been corrupted, and well-nigh ruined, in this way. The parents looked with dismay and anguish on the desolation of their households, and the blighting of their hopes, but never dreamed of the cause till it was too late to counteract it. When a man can take fire in his bosom and his clothes not be burned, when one can go on hot coals and his feet not be burned, then may a parent hope to bring vicious persons into his family and his children not be contaminated. We may also mention the danger to which parents expose their children by locating their families where they will be among the vicious as soon as they enter the street, in the centres of business, where congregate the vile herds, the offscouring of humanity. It may accommodate a man in his business to do so; but what parent, who has a parent's heart, or is fit to bear a parent's name, would peril the welfare of his children for dollars and cents? Intimately con nected with the companions of a child are its haunts; for a child will seek those places where its chosen companions are to be found. Those who are obliged to bring up their families in cities or villages have need of all care to prevent their loved ones from being decoyed into the snares which are set for them. Where every nook and corner has a trap skilfully set and temptingly baited to catch and destroy men, where everything is said and done and displayed to captivate the young, and lead them to ruin,-no eye can be too vigilant, no guardianship too strict. In cities and villages, no child can be safely trusted to run at will in the streets, especially in the evening; for it will almost inevitably fall among vicious companions, and be led into the haunts of sin. From the gilded and mirrored saloon, furnished with all the appliances of aristocratic drunkenness, down to the lowest shanty, where poverty can forget its destitution, wretchedness its misery, and degradation its shame, in the excitement or stupidity of intoxication, for a few cents,- from the gorgeous theatre, with brilliant lights and splendid decorations, with its captivating music and pompous actors, who point out, with unerring certainty, the paths of virtue which they never saw, and of which they hardly know the name, down to the dark and filthy alley where dirty and ragged children roll marbles and hustle coppers,every intermediate and collateral point is filled with the haunts of sin, and somewhere in this diabolical series every one may find a place and companions suited to his depraved tastes, and within reach of his means. Into these vile holes the current sets so strong that the young, unless powerfully restrained, will be swept along by it; and, once fairly ensnared, their ruin is almost inevitable. But, while parents guard their children against vicious amusements, they must be careful to supply such as are safe and useful; for children must have amusements. Their nature demands them; and if parents do not comply with the demand, they will furnish themselves with such as are within their reach; and these will be much more likely to be sinful than wholesome. When the child comes home with his imagination all excited, and his desires awakened, by reading the show-bill of the theatre, the circus, the juggler, or song-singer, or any other of the vile crowd of fun-makers who offer to amuse or deceive the gaping multitude for an hour, in return for a liberal bonus of cash, when he urges that his companions are going, and pleads for indulgence, instead of peremptorily refusing him, in such a |