"Let us have them, then. Number one and number two." "Number one," Tino continued, "is this: always to be grateful to those who have done you a good turn, and to watch for the opportunity to do them another."

"Very well, Tino. I expected so much, and a good lesson too. There are many ungrateful people in the world, like those nine lepers in the gospel, who go away with the benefit they have received, and forget the benefactor. Now for number two.'

"Why," answered Tino, "what a good thing perseverance is. The mouse was not discouraged by thinking how small his teeth were, and how large the rope was; but he went at it at once, and so he succeeded." "So the mouse in this fable is like the raven we saw, filling the pitcher with pebbles. Now, I will add number three to your two lessons, Tino.'

"I wonder what?"

"It shows us how the least little people can do a great deal of good. The good that is done in the world does not depend on natural power, but on the grace and assistance of God. If people will only pray their best, and then go and do their best, they may remove mountains."

A CHILD OF MARY.

A JESUIT Father, who for many years was a prefect in a certain college, relates that one night when he went to the dormitory to see if all the students were in bed, he discovered a boy dressed and kneeling by his bedside. Surprised at this he inquired why he had not retired with the others.

"Please, Father," the young student answered, "I gave my Scapular to the tailor to be mended, and I hate to go to bed without it, for fear of dying in the night."

"Oh! don't be afraid, my boy," the Father said kindly; "go to bed and sleep soundly. "You will get your Scapular to-morrow."

"Oh! Father, I can't go to sleep without my Scapular; perhaps I might die," and he began to weep.

To pacify the boy, the Father went at once to the tailor, who lived in the College, procured the Scapular, and the boy put it on and went to bed. The last words he heard him say were the names of Jesus and Mary.

Next morning when the prefect went round to see if all the boys were up he found his young friend still in bed. He called him but there was no answer; he shook him, but he did not move; he was cold in death. One hand rested on his beloved Scapular, the prayers of which were probably his last earthly occupation.

No doubt our blessed Mother wished to take her child to heaven before his innocence would be tarnished by a sinful world.

He who lives for God is never sad, save at having offended God.

KIND-HEARTED ANNIE.

SOMEHOW all kinds of birds and animals seemed to love little Annie; cats and dogs would run to meet her, the rabbits would forget their natural timidity and let her fondle them to her heart's content; the doves would fly about her head, alight upon her shoulder, and feed from her hands; the canary sang loudly when she came into the room, as much as to say, Come, gentle Annie, come and play with me.' Even the parrot, that would bite any one else, would let Annie rub his head and play with him, and if he managed to get out of his cage and wander off to the trees, Annie's voice could always coax him to return.

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Annie had pets of all kinds; but the one she loved more than all the others was one you would least expect a girl to care for. He was devoted to Annie and she to him; Towser was his name, and he was a great, scraggy dog. Annie had begged his life from some boys who were dragging him along to the pond, where they intended to end his career by drowning. Their reason for this cruelty, as Annie called it, was because the dog had broken his leg. Annie took him home and bound it up, and nursed him until he could get about again, though he always limped. He was his little mistress's devoted and faithful friend, and when at last he died of old age, Annie declared she could never love the handsomest dog as she had loved poor old Towser.

HE COULD TELL.

FATHER CARROLL, S. J., of St. Francis Xavier's College, tells how, instructing some colored Maryland children in their catechism, he explained the function of a bishop by calling the attention of the children to a flock of wild geese flying over head - one to whom he compared the Bishop, "the leader of his flock," at their head. Shortly afterwards, Cardinal, then Archbishop, Gibbons paid the school a visit, and, proceeding to examine them in their catechism preparatory to confirmation, asked:

"What is a Bishop?"

There was a pause for an instant, and then an ebony midget shot up his hand and said:

"I know, I know."

"That's well, my child," said Archbishop Gibbons.

us what is a Bishop?"

"Now tell

"He's," answered the ardent youth, with a zest that betokened the confidence of superior wisdom, "the old gander what shows the rest of the geese how to fly."

It is a little curious that when you say a man is a hard drinker, you really mean that he drinks so easily that he does it all the time.

Some Defects in our Political and Social

Institutions.

(From the North American Review.)

IF our government and legislation are permeated and fortified by divine revelation and Christian traditions, we cannot ignore the fact that they are assailed by unbelief, impiety, and socialism. We have our moral Hell Gate, which threatens our ship of state, and which it requires more than the genius of a Newton to remove. If we have strong hopes for the future of our country, we are not without fears. The dangers that threaten our civilization may be traced for the most part to the family. The root of the commonwealth is in the homes of the people. The social and civil life springs from the domestic life of mankind. The official life of a nation is ordinarily the reflex of the moral sense of the people. The morality of public administration is to be gauged by the moral standard of the family. The river does not rise above its source.

We are confronted by a number of great evils - Mormonism and divorce, which strike at the root of the family and society; an imperfect and vicious system of education, which undermines the religion of our youth; the desecration of the Christian sabbath, which tends to obliterate in our adult population the salutary fear of God and the homage we owe him; a fraudulent ballot; and an administration of justice pernicious in its dilatory character. Our insatiable greed for gain, the co-existence of colossal wealth with abject poverty, the extravagance of the rich, the discontent of the poor, our eager and impetuous rushing through life, and every other moral and social delinquency, may be traced to one or other of the radical vices above enumerated.

Every man that has the welfare of his country at heart, cannot fail to view with alarm the existence and the gradual development of Mormonism, which is a plague-spot on our civilization, a discredit to our government, a degradation of the female sex, and a standing menace to the sanctity of the marriage bond. The feeble and spasmodic attempts that have been made to repress this social evil, and the virtual immunity which it enjoys, have rendered its apostles bold and defiant. Formerly they were content with enlisting recruits from England, Wales, Sweden and other parts of Scandinavia; but now, emboldened by toleration, they send their emissaries throughout the country and obtain disciples from North Carolina, Georgia, and other States of the Union.

The reckless facility with which divorce is procured is an evil scarcely less deplorable than Mormonism; indeed, it is, in some respects, more dangerous than the latter; for divorce has the sanction of the civil law, which Mormonism has not. Is not the law of divorce a virtual toleration of Mormonism in a modified form? Mormonism consists in simultaneous polygamy, while the law of divorce practically leads to successive polygamy.

Each state has in its statutes a list of causes, or rather pretexts, which are recognized as sufficient ground for a divorce a vinculo. There are in all twenty-two or more causes, most of them of a very trifling character, and in some states, as in Illinois and Maine, the power of granting a divorce is left to the discretion of the judge.

The second evil that bodes mischief to our country, and endangers the stability of our government, arises from our mutilated and vicious system of public-school education. I am persuaded that the popular errors now existing in reference to education spring from an incorrect notion of that term. To educate means to bring out, to develop the intellectual, moral, and religious faculties of the soul. An education, therefore, that improves only the mind and the memory, to the neglect of moral and religious training, is at best but an imperfect and defective system. According to Webster's definition, to educate is to "instil into the mind principles of art, science, morals, religion, and behavior." "To educate," he says, "in the arts is important; in religion, indispensable."

It is, indeed, eminently useful that the intellect of our youth should be developed, and that they should be made familiar with those branches of knowledge which they are afterward likely to pursue. They can then go forth into the world, gifted with a well-furnished mind and armed with a lever by which they may elevate themselves in the social scale, and become valuable members of society. It is also most desirable that they should be made acquainted, in the course of their studies, with the history of our own country, with the origin and principles of its government, and with the eminent men who have served it by their statesmanship and defended it by their valor. This knowledge will instruct them in their civic duties and rights, and contribute to make them enlightened citizens and devoted patriots.

But it is not enough for children to have a secular education; they must receive a religious training. Indeed, religious knowledge is as far above human science as the soul is above the body, as heaven is above earth, as eternity is above time. The little child that is familiar with the Christian Catechism is really more enlightened on truths that should come home to every rational mind than the most profound philosophers of Pagan antiquity, or even than many of the so-called philosophers of our own times. He has mastered the great problem of life. He knows his origin, his sublime destiny, and the means of attaining. it a knowledge which no human science can impart without the light of revelation.

We want our children to receive an education which will make them not only learned, but pious men. We want them to be not only polished members of society, but also conscientious Christians. We desire for them a training that will form their heart, as well as expand their mind. We wish them to be not only men of the world, but, above all, men of God.

A knowledge of history is most useful and important for the student. He should be acquainted with the lives of those illustrious heroes that founded empires-of those men of genius that enlightened the world by their wisdom and learning, and embellished it by their works of art.

But is it not more important to learn something of the King of kings, who created all these kingdoms, and by whom kings reign? Is it not more important to study that uncreated Wisdom, before whom all earthly wisdom is folly, and to admire the works of the Divine Artist who paints the lily and who gilds the cloud?

The religious and secular education of our children cannot be divorced from each other without inflicting a fatal wound upon the soul. The usual consequence of such a separation is to paralyze the moral faculties, and so foment a spirit of indifference in matters of faith. Education is to the soul what food is to the body. The milk with which the infant is nourished at its mother's breast, feeds not only its head, but permeates at the same time the heart and other bodily organs. In like manner the intellectual and moral growth of our children must go hand in hand; otherwise their education is shallow and fragmentary, and often proves a curse instead of a blessing.

It is

Guizot, an eminent Protestant writer of France, expresses himself so clearly and forcibly on this point that we cannot forbear quoting his words: "In order," he says, "to make popular education truly good and [socially useful, it must be fundamentally religious. necessary that national education should be given and received in the midst of a religious atmosphere, and that religious expressions and religious observances should penetrate into all its parts. Religion is not a study or an exercise to be restricted to a certain place or a certain hour; it is a faith and a law which ought to be felt everywhere, and which, after this manner alone, can exercise all its beneficial influence upon our mind and our life."

The remedy for the defects of our system would be supplied, if the denominational plan, such as now obtains in Canada, were applied in our public schools.

The desecration of the Christian sabbath is another social danger against which it behooves us to set our face, and to take timely precautions before it assumes proportions too formidable to be easily eradicated.

The custom of observing religious holidays has prevailed both in ancient and modern times, and among nations practising a false system of worship, as well as among those that have professed the true religion. They have set apart one day in the week, or, at least, certain days in the month or year, for the public and solemn worship of their Creator,. just as they have instituted national festivals to commemorate signal civic blessings obtained by their heroes and statesmen.

The Hebrew people were commanded by Almighty God to keep holy the sabbath day, or Saturday, because on that day God rested from His work; and we have warrant for asserting that the sabbatical observance was anterior to the promulgation of the Mosaic law, and derived from the primitive law given to Adam.

With what profound reverence, then, should we view an ordinance which was instituted to draw man closer to his Maker, and to inculcate on him humanity toward his fellow-being, and compassion for even the beast of burden; an ordinance whose observance was requited by temporal blessings, and whose violation was avenged by