"Though first by thee it lived, on thee it smiled,

Yet not for thee existence must it hold,

For God’s it is, not thine!"

Given by its Creator in trust to her, it is her task to bring it up for God. Here especially do we see the holy mission of the mother. None but the mother’s heart and love can give security for this trust. The father is unfit by nature for the delicate training of infancy. The mother’s hand alone can smooth the infant’s couch, and her voice alone can sing him to his rosy rest. Her never-wearied love alone can watch beside him "till the last pale star had set,"

"While to the fullness of her heart’s glad heavings

His fair cheek rose and fell; and his bright hair

Waved softly to her breast."

She is the ministering angel of infancy, and the priestess of the nursery of home. She sets the first seal, makes the first stamp, gives the first direction, supplies the first want, and soothes the first sorrow. To her is committed human life in its most helpless and dangerous state. Touch it then with the rude hand of parental selfishness; let it grow up in a barren soil, amid noxious weeds, under the influence of unholy example; and the delicate tints of this blossom will soon fade; the blush of loveliness will soon give way to the blight of moral deformity.

TEACHING THE SCRIPTURES. J. Porter