tle shy girl is on the knee
of the old man, all are listening reverently to the holy Word of God,
books and a vase of gay flowers are on the table, green boughs fill the
great old-fashioned fireplace. The whole picture wears an air of
serenity and calm happiness, and is an impressive plea that we 'remember
and keep holy the Sabbath day'--and we verily believe that such a
picture will do more to influence our children to love the Sabbath, than
any amount of parental restraint or lectures on moral obligation.

There is another picture in the same quiet room: 'The Mother's Dream.'
She is worn with watching, and lies dreaming beside the couch of the
child. Rays of light open a bright pathway into the skies, while an
angel is bearing the spirit child along it up to heaven. We think such a
picture is worth more to familiarize childhood with death and
resurrection, and will leave a sweeter and more lasting impression upon
the young soul, than the most learned dissertation or simplest
explanation.

Landscape painting exerts a mellowing influence, and leads to the
observation and love of nature, while historical pictures stimulate
research, and nerve the mind to deeds of heroism and virtue.

The influence of pictures in forming character and shaping the course of
life is illustrated with peculiar power in the history of the sons of a
quiet family in the interior, who all insisted upon going to sea. The
parents were grieved that none of their boys would remain at home to
care for the homestead, and be the comfort of their declining years.
They expressed their disappointment to a friend then on a visit to them,
and wondered what could have induced the boys, one after the other, to
embrace a life so full of storm and danger. Directly over the open
fireplace hung a picture of a vessel with fluttering, snowy sails,
tossing and rocking amid the bright, green, yeasty waves. The friend saw
it, read the mystery, and quietly inquired how long it had been there.
'Since we commenced housekeeping,' was the unconscious reply. Not
wishing to wound them, he was silent, and concealed his thoughts in his
own breast, but the solution of the choice of life in the absent ones
was clear enough to him: _that picture had sent them off, one after
another, to sea_.

How careful we should then be in surrounding youth and childhood with
pure, elevating objects of art, as means of constant home-culture! We
know we shall be told, 'This is all very good,