To the Editor of the Christian Observer. I AM the father of a numerous family of children, whose minds I desire to make it my first care, under God's blessing, to form to the love and practice of piety. In the prosecution of this design I have often experienced great difficulty from the want of a sufficient number of juvenile books, uniting innocent amusement with sound instruction, and conveying right views of God and of themselves by means which may present religion under an attractive form to youthful minds. I have often wished, Mr. Editor, that you would employ a page or two in your useful miscellany in pointing arents proper books of this descr on; and if some of your correspondents would furnish from time to time notices on this interesting subject, they would render an essential service to many a parent who is placed in similar circumstances with myself.

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It would be altogether inexcusasable, were I to omit on this occasion to express the obligations I am under to Mrs. Hannah More, and the other writers of the Cheap Repository Tracts, for the invaluable aid which I have derived from their labours; nor can I too anxiously recommend them to all parents who have at heart the religious improvement of their infant progeny. Other works might be mentioned of a similar tendency, and to which I may, on a future occasion, call your attention. At present I mean to confine myself to the notice of three little books of youthful poems which have lately fallen in my way, and which furnish delight to my chil

dren of all ages, from two years old to ten. These are, "6 Rhymes for the Nursery;"" Original Poems for Infant Minds," in two volumes; and "Hymns for Infant Minds *" These are all the work of the same authors, associate minstrels, whom I suspect to belong to the fair sex; and who certainly deserve the praise of the good for the use to which talent. I do not mean to intimate they have applied their rhyming that that talent is of a superior description, but I think that its effusions are, nevertheless, well adapted to their object; and I beg to produce a few specimens in support of my opinion. If I cannot carry your perhaps too fastidious judgment along with me, I am sure that I shall have on my side all those juvenile readers to whose minds these works are directed. The worth of any production should be estimated by its suitableness to fulfil its purpose, if that purpose be in itself a good one. Tried by this rule, these little books have certainly considerable merit.

I shall not think of detaining you, Mr. Editor, with the "Nursery Rhymes." These must now sound strangely in your ears, even if you ever mingled so much in domestic life as to hear such notes as

Dance, little baby, dance up high, Never mind, baby, mother is by; Crow and caper, caper and crow. There, little baby, there you go." &c. But the moral of that which follows may reconcile you to its insertion.

"Dear Mother, said a little fish,
Pray, is not that a fly?
I'm very hungry, and I wish

You'd let me go and try.

“Sweet innocent, the mother cried,

And started from her nook,
That horrid fly is put to hide

The sharpness of the hook!

"Now, as I've heard, this little trout

Was young, and foolish too, And so he thought he'd venture out, To see if it were true.

* Published by Conder, and by Darton and Harvey.

"And round about the hook he play'd,

With many a longing look,

And Dear me,' to himself he said,
'I'm sure, that's not a hook.

I can but give one little pluck:
Let's see, and so I will.'
So on he went, and lo! it stuck
Quite through his little gill!

"And as he faint and fainter grew,
With hollow voice he cried,
Dear mother, if I'd minded you,
I need not now have died!'"

Rhymes, &c., p. 68, 69.

One which contains a similar lesson I will transcribe from the Original Poems; it is entitled" the Pond."

"There was a round pond, and a pretty poud too;

About it white daisies and butterflow'rs grew, And dark weeping willows, that stoop to the ground,

"So, why should not I swim as well as a duck?

Suppose then I venture, and e'en try my luck;

For,' said she (spite of all that her mother had taught her),

I'm really reinarkably fond of the water.'

"So in this poor ignorant animal flew, But soon found her dear mother's cautions were true;

She splash'd, and she dash'd, and she turn'd herself round,

And heartily wish'd herself safe on the ground.

"But now 'twas too late to begin to repent,

The harder she struggled the deeper she

"The ducks, I perceiv'd, began loudly to quack,

ou its back,

And by their grave gestures and looks 'twas

apparent,

They discours'd on the sin of not minding a

parent." Vol. ii. p. 28-30.

From the Hymns I must beg to be allowed to present three or four specimens, which I think will not fail to interest at least a part of your readers; and with these I shall conclude this paper.

"A Child's Lamentation for the Death of a dear Mother. "A poor afflicted child, I kneel

Before my heav'nly Father's seat, To tell him all the grief I feel,

And spread my sorrows at his feet. "Yet I must weep: I cannot dry

These tears, that trickle while I bend, Since it has pleas'd thine holy eye

To take away so dear a friend.

"And now I recollect with pain

The many times I griev'd her sore;
Oh! if she would but come again,
I think I'd vex hier so no more.

Ir requires an effort, even in abstractive minds, to contemplate Christianity simply as exhibited in the Scriptures, and not as combined with human creeds and formularies; and there may be still greater difficulty in ascertaining what proportion of error may be held by a man who professes to love truth, and who will possess its ultimate rewards.

The connection of these remarks with Fenelon, results from our discovering in the portrait of an Archbishop of the church of Rome, not merely those strong features of excellence which the prejudices of a protestant, as such, would exclusively look for among the saints and martyrs of his own communion; but a sublimity of character, which seems identified with the Gospel itself, as delivered by Jesus Christ, pure and unmixed; and before the doctrines he taught had been systematized,or even examined by the good or ill intentions of mankind. While reading these attractive volumes, and indulging the reflections inspired by their subject, all the vulgar attributes of a Romish dignitary were expunged from our recollection. The pomp and circumstance of the Mass, the reliquary, the vestments, the clouds of incense, the tapers, the crucifix, the throng of subordinate attendants, and, lastly, the childish and absurd dogmas of a religion of shreds and patches, disappeared before the native greatness of Fenelon, rising ascendant

over all the trifles in which the interest, the ambition, or the vanity of his church compelled him to take a share.

The general incidents of the Archbishop's life may be ound in his former memorialists, and in the popular compends of biography, and need not here be repeated, farther than may be necessary to cement and illustrate our details.

In August 1689, Fenelon, then in his thirty-eighth year, was appointed by the Duke of Beauvilliers, recently selected by Louis XIV. as governor of his grandson the Duke of Burgundy, to be that prince's ceived the congratulations of his preceptor. On this occasion he re

friends, and the usual blandishments of flatterers; while M. Tronson, whose pupil he had been at the seminary of St. Sulpice, wrote to him as follows:

"You will, perhaps, Sir, be surprised, at who have felicitated you upon the recent not finding me among the crowd of those mark of royal favour, which has been bestowed upon you. But I entreat you, very humbly, not to condemn me for this little delay. I thought that on an occasion which so greatly interested me, I could not do better than to commence, by adoring the designs of God towards you, and to implore, for you, the continuation of his mercies. I have endeavoured to do both according to the best of my ability: and I can assure you that I felt, afterwards, a sincere joy in reflecting that you had been chosen. The king has given, in this choice, a proof of his piety, and a striking testimony of his discernment; and these are surely very consolatory truths. The education which his majesty has thought fit to confide to your care, has such an important connection with the welfare of the state, and the good his country must unfeignedly rejoice, that it of the church, that every sincere lover of

is committed into such hauds; but I very candidly confess to you, that my joy is considerably mingled with uneasiness, when I consider the perils to which you are exposed; for it cannot he denied, that in the

ordinary course of events, our elevation only renders our salvation more difficult. It opens the door to the dignities of the earth; but we should tremble, lest it shut us out from the eternal greatness of heaven. It is true, you may perform much good in your present situation; but you may also become guilty of great crimes. There can be no medium in such a post; the good or the bad success has, almost always, unceasing results. You are in a country where the Gospel of Jesus Christ is hardly known; and where they who do not know it, use it only as a means of recommendation among men. You live now among persons whose language is Pagan; and whose example leads too often towards things that are perilous. You will behold yourself surrounded by a variety of objects which flatter the senses, and which are only calcu. lated for awakening the most dormant passions. A more than ordinary degree of grace, and an uncommon portion of faith, must be necessary to enable you to resist such violent and such seducing temptations. The dark mists which cloud the moral atmos

phere of a court, are capable of obscuring the plainest and most evident truths. It is not necessary to remain there long before we learn to consider as unnatural and excessive, those very truths which had been so often felt, and so often acknowledged, when they have been meditated at the foot of the cross. The most established duties of life become gradually, either doubtful or impracticable. A thousand occasions will present themselves, in which you will consider yourself as bound by prudence, and even by benevolence, to concede something to the world; and yet,

what a strange state it is for a Christian to be in, and still more for a priest, to behold himself obliged to enter into a compact with the enemy of his salvation! Truly, Sir, your post is a dangerous one: confess with sincerity, that it will be a difficult task to remain unweakened, and that it will require a most consummate virtue to resist temptation. If ever the study and meditation of the sacred writings have been needful to you, they are now so in an especial manner. Hitherto, you have needed only to cultivate viuous thoughts, and to nourish the love of truth; hut henceforth you will have to shield yourself from evil impressions, and to avoid falsehood. It is certainly of the greatest consequence to you, that you forget not the hour of your death; that hour when all the glory of the world will disappear as a dream, and when every creature in it, who may have been your support, will sink from beneath you. Your friends, пр doubt, will console

you, because you have not sought your employment; and this is indeed a source of just consolation, and a great mercy of God towards you; but you must not rest too much upon it. We have often more to do with our own elevation than we are aware of. It is very seldom that we see the path that conducts to it, and that we fly from it with sincerity. Few persons have arrived at this degree of self-denial. We do not, indeed, always seek for our promotion with our usual eagerness: but, at the same time, we seldom fail to remove the obstacles which are in our way. We do not, perhaps, solicit very urgently those persons who might be able to serve us; but we are not sorry when we exhibit ourselves to them under' the most favourable aspect; and it is precisely to those minute discoveries of human qualities, that we may attribute the commencement of our prefer ment; and thus no person can be quite certain that he has not influenced his own promotion. This way of evincing the talents we possess, is often done without much reflection; yet it should be avoided, and it is always useful to obviate its effects by contrition and humility. Perhaps you will consider this letter as being somewhat too true, and a little too long: or you may regard it as a sermon, injudiciously made, instead of a judicious compliment. I should certainly have been more laconic and more reserved, if I had been less anxious about your salvation. Read it as the language of my heart, which cannot be otherwise than tenderly interested about your real welfare. I entreat you to believe, that I shall unceasingly implore God to fill you with an inviolable love of him, in order that no temptation may change nor weaken the pious sentiments with which he will inspire you. Such is the prayer made by the church to obtain the

love of God for its children. I am, with respect, &c." (Vol. i. pp. 47—50.)

Nearly allied to these exhortations, was the speech made by the Marquis de Fenelon to M. de Harlay, upon his nomination to the Archbishopric of Paris. "There is, Sir, a great difference between the day when such a nomination procures you the compliments of all France, and the day of your death, when you will appear before God, to render him an account of your office." (Vol. i. p. 6.) This faithful remembrancer was Fenelon's uncle, and the Mentor of his early youth.