He died at the age of 37, having been for nearly six years a successful missionary among the spicy breezes which blow soft o’er Ceylon’s Isle.  A friend who had known him most intimately for many years while a student at Yale, and then tutor, and then a student of Theology, after his death, in writing to his bereaved mother, says, “We had hope that your son, from his rare qualifications to fill the station he occupied, his remarkable facilities in acquiring that difficult language, his cheerfulness in imparting knowledge, his indomitable perseverance, his superior knowledge, and love of the Bible, which it was his business to teach—­that in all this God had raised him up for a long life of service to the Church; but instead of this, God had been fitting him, all this time, for some more important sphere of service in the upper sanctuary.”

Here, as in thousands of other cases, we see that “The boy was the father of the man.”

Would any mother like to know the early history of that cheerful young traveler, we reply, as in the case of the prophet Samuel, he was “asked of the Lord,” and was, therefore, rightly named Samuel.  The Lord called him by his Spirit, when a mere child, “Samuel,” “Samuel,” and he replied “Here am I;” and his subsequent life and character were what might be expected from his obedient disposition and his lowly conduct in early childhood.

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A young prince having asked his tutor to instruct him in religion and to teach him to say his prayers, was answered, that “he was yet too young.”  “That cannot be,” said the little boy, “for I have been in the burying ground and measured the graves; I found many of them shorter than myself.”

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Original.

MUSIC IN CHRISTIAN FAMILIES.—­NO. 1.

It gives me much pleasure, in accordance with your suggestions, Mrs. W., to lay before the readers of the Magazine, a few thoughts on the subject of music in Christian families.  The subject is a very interesting one; and I regret that time and space will not allow me to do it more ample justice.

Music is one of those precious gifts of Providence which are liable to be misused and misinterpreted.  It has been applied, like oratory, to pernicious, as well as to useful purposes.  It has been made to minister to vice, to indolence and to luxury—­as well as to virtue, to industry, and to true refinement.  But we must not on this account question the preciousness of the gift itself.  The single circumstance that the Master of Assemblies requires it to be employed through all time, in the solemn assemblies of his worshipers, should suffice to prevent us from holding it in light estimation.

Other good things besides music have been abused.  Poetry, and prose, and eloquence, for example; but shall we therefore undervalue them?  Painting, too, has its errings—­some of them very grievous; but shall it therefore be neglected, as unworthy of cultivation?  Things the most precious all have this liability, and should on this account be guarded with more vigilance.