tle. Wagner serves as a temporary surgeon. The French are victorious. and so is Uncle Jacob Wagner. For it would be contrary to all the laws of affection and fiction, if the Dr's. grateful patient would not become Madame Theresa Wagner.

This is but a meager outline of the work. Everything is seen through the eyes of Fritzel, who with his youthful French imagination, leads you into the cellars, kitchens and bed-rooms of French households of the last century, and reports the fiery discussions of the common working people of that day, on the French revolutionary principles convulsing Europe. A humane spirit runs through the whole. Its religion is of course of the French style. Uncle Wagner says: "I am not conceited enough to refuse to believe in predictions and miracles related by such wise authors as Moses, Herodotus, Thucycides, Livy and many others. "Think of classing the inspired Moses with these learned pagans. The book reads like a romance of course. The simple, unaffected descriptions of Fritzel possess a charming interest telling you a thousand little things, which older eyes would not notice.

DAUGHTERS OF THE CROSS.*

This is a volume of 228 pages, published by the American Tract Society. It contains life-like sketches of five eminent Christian women— Monica, the mother of St. Augustine; Elizabeth of Hungary; Rosa Govona, the Piedmontes work woman; Mrs. Margaret Godolphin; and Maria Mathsdotter, the Lapland peasant. We know of few books which we can more cordially commend to the perusal of our lady readers than this. These five women are models of feminine piety. Every one is a heroine giving her life to Christ, as an offering for the good of others. The readers of the GUARDIAN have already read brief historical sketches of Monica, and have learned from her the power and beauty of believing persevering prayer.

E izabeth of Hungary, born in 1207, is a character which every Christian lady ought to become acquainted with. After 650 years, the sweet odor of her piety and of her many charities bestowed upon the poor, still lingers in the Castle of Wartburg, near Eisenach in Germany. For it is here that she spent a part of her short life.

"Being

At that time there were lepers in this part of Germany. missed one day from the Castle at an hour which was usually devoted to her children, her ladies of honor searched the grounds of the Castle, and found her in a retired part of the orchard, attending upon a leper whose hair she had just cut off with her own hands, as no barber would do it ; and she was busied in dressing his head when her maidens came upon her. To one of them, who freely expressed the surprise and disgust she felt, Elizabeth replied with a smile:

"Am I better than my Lord, who admitted the lepers to his presence, and was at last crucified among thieves? My own little ones may sometimes be in want. I would do to these little ones of Christ even as I would have others do unto them in their need.

Daughters of the Cross, or The Cottage and the Palace. Published by the American Tract Society, 150 Nassau street, New York.

One time her husband, the landgrave of Thuringia, being from home, a fearful famine occurred. Hundreds died of starvation. Elizabeth spent nearly $1,700,000 then in the State treasury, for their relief. Day and night the ovens of her Castle were filled with bread for the hungry. The Castle standing on a hill, some of the sick and infirm had not the strength to climb up to it. Every morning and evening Elizabeth, aided by a servant, carried provisions to the foot of the hill for such. She founded two hospitals at Eisenach. One of these was designed for sick and orphan children. She loved to visit this home of the homeless. Whenever the orphans would see their friend coming, they would crowd around her, catch hold of her robe, and call: "Mamma, our dear mama!" Often when she had not the means at hand to provide for the poor, she would sell her costly garments and jewelry wherewith to do good. And for the most time she would wear very plain clothing so as to have more means to serve her Saviour in the persons of his needy people.

THE YOUNG LADY OF PLEASURE.

This volume of 316 pages, likewise published by the Tract Society, contains the correspondence between two ladiesa teacher and her pupil. A series of 38 letters treat of a variety of subjects-such subjects as would be of interest to young ladies. "Home-life," "Dancing as an Amusement," "Plan for Recreation," "Fashionable ladies," "Novelreading," and many other subjects are herein familiarly discussed, from a common sense point of view. Letters are more easily read than elaborate essays. And the ladies have their own way of putting things in their letters. And in that way the things of this volume are put. The thread of argument is short and well spun. You can follow it more readily than the long circumvolved, subterranean, rock-penetrating logic of some of the ablest writers of the sterner sex. It is a gossippy book, chatting right sensibly and aptly on a variety of topics.

LITERARY NOTICES.

HOURS AT HOME.-The January number of this popular and valuable monthly has the following contents:

Progress, by Horace Bushnell, D. D.; Bab and Babism, by Prof. E. P. Evans; The Chaplet of Pearls. Chapters XXXVIII.-XL. By the Author of "The Heir of Redclyffe;" My Tenants, by H. H.; Sackcloth under Velvet, by Mrs. Jane G. Austin; A chat with M. Berryer, Translated from the German for Hours at Home; Motherless Girls, A Story of the Last Century. Chapters IX.-XI., by the Author of "Mary Powell;" Human Eyes Again, by Prof. D. B. St. John Roosa, M.D.; The Sleeping Earth, by Mrs. Grace W. Hinsdale; Some Chinese Pictures, by Rev. George B. Bacon; The Morning Star, by Helen Brown; Leisure Moments; Books and Authors Abroad, by Charles Welford; Literature of the Day, 1. De Pressense on Christ; 2. Harper's Cyclopædia of Biblical, Theological, and Ecclesiastical Literature; 3. Kathrina, Illustrated; 4. Books of the Month.

TERMS.--$3 a year; Single numbers, 30 cents; Six copies for $15; Twelve copies for $30, and one free to the person who gets up the club. Clergymen and Students of Theology receive it for $2.50, strictly in advance. The Volumes begin with May and November.

Office of HOURS AT HOME, No. 654 Broadway, New York.

The Guardian.

VOL. XX.-FEBRUARY, 1869.-No. 2.

PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT,

BY THE EDITOR.

Of course only in a relative sense. For absolute perfection is an attribute of God, beyond the reach of mortal man. No one can learn to excel in any good or great attainment without practice. "Civilians " can never be relied upon as military officers. They lack the necessary education. And raw recruits are dangerous material with which to fight a battle. Only he who has been thoroughly drilled, whose head, limbs, and joints are perfectly under his control, makes a safe and an efficient soldier.

How easy it was for us to repeat the multiplication table in early boyhood. Not one of the many figures was wrongly stated. Now beginning in the middle of a column, and running backward toward the head of the table; then at the bottom of the table with "twelve twelves are one hundred and forty-four," and rapidly skipping up and down like a drill master before his company. How easy for children to acquire this readiness in reciting the table. It is the result of drilling-of frequent repetition. A a real pleasure it is to study English grammar, or the grammar of any other language, when one is thoroughly drilled in the rules, and by analysing and constructing sentences and frequent parsing, becomes as familiar with all the details and parts of speech as he is with the alphabet.

The other day I watched a little boy, scarcely eight years of age, skat ing on a pond. And a delightful treat it was to see him at it. Unconscious of any one looking at him, he careered hither and thither over the glassy ice, performing feats which I could never attempt without the risk of breaking a limb. With inimitable grace he moved along. Very pretty was the sight. But he had had on skates before, and now is on them every day. First on the icy pavement in the yard, at home; then on the street gutters, he practiced with untiring energy. True, many at tumble has he received, now thumping the back of his head on the ice, filling his head with dizzy blackness, then s rawling on all fours; but what of that? Heroically he endured the drill and drudgery of learning.

Now his nimble boy-limbs frisk merrily over the ice with ease and safety. Looking admiringly at the little fellow, methought he might teach many children of larger growth a lesson.

1.) Begin your drill early, when the limbs and joints are elastic. A man of thirty rarely learns to skate. Begin your studies early, then the memory is tenacious. Committing a page is often a pleasant amusement, especially after the memory has been somewhat trained. Begin to study and commit the Scriptures early. Begin to pray, and to form habits of church going and worship in early youth. Then it will be comparatively easy. Very few people begin a religious life after thirty years of age. It is said that not one in four, who have lived wickedly until they are twenty years of age, ever become earnest consistent Christians.

2.) The little skater has had many a mishap and bruising tumble. A lazy, thriftless boy would have said, "I shall quit this neck-breaking business. It does not pay." Not so he. At first, when he could not raise two skates, he would worry over the ice with one. When he fell, he got up and fought the battle boyfully over again. He drilled and drove toward the perfecting of his art with unconquerable energy. And now we older folks must be ashamed to see this little boy excel us in this pleasing acquirement.

Wherefrom we are to learn to defy failures. In beginning to learn a lesson, whether it be a lesson in business or in religion, we must expect an unpleasant slip here and there. A worldly-minded youth may find it difficult at once in all respects to lead a godly life. One accustomed to spend his Sundays in silly and simple amusements, may find it burdensome at once to spend them in acts of worship and edifying reading and proper conversation. Possibly he may here and there fail at first. Shall he yield to the failure-say within himself: "It is of no use. I may as well give it up; for I cannot keep my resolutions?" Or shall he do as did the little skater; get up when he falls, and pray and strive, and defy failures?

The best and only way to learn to do a thing is to begin to do it, and ever afterwards continue doing it. In order that we may learn to drill, we must drill. To learn to pray, we must pray. To learn to go to church and worship God, we must go to church and worship God.

We are never too old to learn, and never too old to drill. "Exercise thyself unto godliness," was Paul's advice to Timothy. Piety is a habit —a daily habit. So is wickedness a habit. Through what a drilling ceremony drunkards, profane swearers and liars are continuously passing. They have a skillful drill-master, who keeps them at their distinctive lessons every day. The best Christians stand in need of daily practice in the art of godly living. Paul prayed to the last. Even our Saviour prayed with his dying breath. Men the most learned in the Scriptures, read the most therein. Dr. Gouge used to read fifteen chapters every day-five in the morning, five at noon, and five in the evening. Jeremiah Whittaker usually read all the epistles in the Greek Testament every two weeks. Joshua Barnes is said to have read a small pocket Bible, which he usually carried with him, a hundred and twenty times through. Robert Cotton read the whole Bible through twelve times a year. By searching the Scriptures, we learn to search; by habitually

worshipping God, we learn to worship. By constant assiduous training the ancient athletes became experts in their art. As soon as they ceased to engage in this their powers began to abate.

In like manner we become strong or weak in our Christian graces, in proportion as we strive to carry them into daily practice.

As an apt illustration of this, we give the following, for which we are indebted to Hugh Miller:

The

A Scotch Highlander, who served in the first disastrous war with the American colonies, was brought one evening before his commanding officer, charged with the capital offence of being in communication with the enemy. charge could not well be preferred at a more dangerous time. Only a few weeks had elapsed since the execution of Major Andre, and the indignation of the British, exasperated almost to madness by the event, had not yet cooled down. There was, however, no direct proof against the Highlander. He had been seen in the gray of the twilight, stealing out from a clump of underwood that bordered on one of the huge forests, which, at that period, covered by much the greater part of the United Provinces, and which, in the immediate neighborhood of the British, swarmed with the troops of Washington. All the rest was mere inference and conjecture. The poor man's defence was summed up in a few words. He had stolen away from his fellows, he said, to spend an hour in private prayer.

"Have you been in the habit of spending hours in private prayer?" sternly asked the officer, himself a Scotchman and a Presbyterian.

The Highlander replied in the affirmative.

'Then," said the other, drawing out his watch, "never in all your life had you more need of prayer than now; kneel down, sir, and pray aloud, that we may all hear you.'

The Highlander, in the expectation of instant death, knelt down. His prayer was that of one long acquainted with the appropriate language in which the Christian addresses his God. It breathed of imminent peril, and earnestly implored the Divine interposition in the threatened danger-the help of Him who, in times of extremity, is strong to deliver. It exhibited, in short, a man who, thoroughly conversant with the scheme of Redemption, and fully impressed with the necessity of a personal interest in the advantages which it secures, had made the business of salvation the work of many a solitary hour, and had, in consequence, acquired much fluency in expressing all his various wants as they occurred, and thoughts and wishes as they arose.

You may go, sir," said the officer, as he concluded; "you have, I dare say, not been in correspondence with the enemy to-night."

"His statement," he continued, addressing himself to the other officers, " is, I doubt not, perfectly correct. No one could have prayed so without a long apprenticeship; fellows who have never attended drill, always get on ill at review."-Hugh Miller.

my

The Breton mariner on putting to sea, touchingly prays: "Keep me, God! my bark is so small, and thy ocean is so wide."