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Ah, you never thought of it as part of a them crowding the deck and telling you of Divine arrangement, when, a litile while the rocks and shoals with all the confidence ago, you, the sick, invalid wife, said, “I of old sailors, while the shores of the know not what I should have dono if I bad Channel look gay in the sunlight, and a been as ill as I usually am, for when husband sweet breeze just freshens the sea? But was ill, and the children had the hooping. come up from below when the wind is cough, I seemed like a strong woman, and raging through the spars, and the spray was able to nurse them right through their sweeps in blinding sheets across the deck. sickness,” Every home has many a tale Where are all the fair-weather navigators? like that. When poor “ Aunt Mary” was Who is on the watch now?

Just one ill-Aunt Mary who was so tender a nurse, lonely figure, passing the raised board with and was always at hand in times of sickness his head bent to the storm. There the and sorrow—it happened the children were man has gained strength for all work, and all well and strong, and could be left for calmness for all emergencies. Ab, that is you to go and see dear “Aunt Mary”; and the lonely watch that our sorrows bid us then when Charlie had the croup, and every keep, if we learn the lesson well. breath had to be watched, and mother was It would not be a bad motto to write fairly done up, why, by that time “ Aunt over the homes of refuge for the homeless Mary” was well again; of course she was, poor in our great cities, “Night brings all ant was at the door with her box and wanderers home.” And thus, sorrowing smiling face, and new hope for Charlie's friends, the night and famine of the world speedy recovery in her very step. She bring us to the warmth and light of the insisted on sitting up with Charlie that “ Father's house." same night, and as you woke in the night But an end must come one day to all you were conscious that her vigil never our strife and trouble, and our circle be ceased. You heard her quiet step in the broken. “The pitcher that goes often to the dim, cold grey of the morning, when sleep well come home broken at last.” We and falls even on the sleepless, and you won- our little ones must come to the margin of dered, with a sleepy, shivering wonder, how the river like the pilgrims in the wonderful she could stand it, after so long a sickness; dream. The years hasten, and the days und so we wonder on, forgetting Him who when a better wisdom and a nobler households back the wind from the shorn lamb, hold life are possible to us, are fast passing who giveth strength when “the youths away. “ The water that's past the mill faint" and " the young men utterly fail.” grinds no corn; so with an earnest word

It is something to learn for ourselves and we bid farewell to our home readers. our little ones how to weather the storm, “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it

Every man," says an old proverb, “is a with thy might, for there is no device or pilot in fair weather.” Cannot you see labour in the grave whither we hasten."

Luton.

THE TIME IS AT HAND.

ANOTHER year is gone : renew,

Lord, with our days thy love:
Our days are evil here and few :

We look to live above.
We will not grieve though year by year
Earth's fading pleasures disappear:

Our joy abides in thee,

Our joy abides in thee.
For all the future, Lord, prepare

Our souls with strength divine;
Help us to cast on thee our care,

And make us wholly thine.
Life without thee is dark and drear;
Death is not death if thou art near :

Our life abides in thee,
Our life abides in thee,

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A STORY FOR THE NEW YEAR.

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Pauly ;

« WATCH-NIGHT.”

to Henry Gibson had he not been inflamed with wine-disturbed, though it did not

entirely break, the slumbers of the boy upon It was near midnight on the 31st of December, 184–, when two cabs, filled with the He is done up,” said one, as a long somewhat noisy revellers, drew up before a sigh and convulsive start made them all boarding-house in J

Street.

look round suddenly. “He can't stand it “We have had such a jolly time!" cried as we do, can he ?"* one, as, in answer to a loud ring and re- “No, and he makes such a fool of himpeated knocking, the proprietor himself self,” said Gibson. He spoke gravely now, appeared. “Such a jolly time!” he re- as well he might. “I could have thrashed peated, as if determined to have an answer him in the omnibus, with all my heart !”. of some sort : “don't you hear me?"

“But, after all, it makes fun," said The landlord smiled; and, being a good. another, laughing. tempered fellow in his way, made answer “Fun do you call it ? You would givo that he was happy to say "yes."

it another name if he was your brother." "Happy to say yes! You look like it, “ That might be; for I see that it bores don't you ?" said the lad—he was scarcely you dreadfully.” eighteen. Then, with a laugh, he added, “I should just think it did! To have “Give us something to drink, Bryce: I'm him here drunk every night of his stay in thirsty."

town, brawling with any fellow who may “Bring water, then," said a voice from chance to jostle him, and wasting his time behind the speaker: “he has had too much and money in low amusements, is a bore, brandy already."

no mistake about that!' "Have I, though ?” cried the boy : “But you wished him to come," re“what do you know about it?"

marked Pauly. “More than I like, Frank, I assure you. “I know; and a senseless fool I was to But go in and keep quiet.”

do it. He came up to spend Christmas, It was an order more easily given than and to see the world, and he has seen it, obeyed; but the tone of command in which with a vengeance!” the words were uttered was not without its “It is strange," said the other, “and so influence. Walking as steadily as he could, 'green' as he was when he came, too." poor Frank made his way to a sofa in the “And is still, spite of rows and tomdining-room, and, after a few feeble jests foolery,” replied Gibson. “I tell you, ever and unheeded calls for brandy, fell asleep. since that first night at Hudson's, when

Meanwhile the elder Gibson, or, as his two glasses of whisky-and-water made him " friends” called him, Gibbs, lounged wea- silly, he has been neither more nor less than rily in an easy-chair by the fire.

a disgusting idiot.” "I suppose,” said he, looking at his “ Why don't you send him back to his watch, " that our dear old Methodistical mamma ?” asked a young man who had friends down in the country are at this hitherto smoked his cigar in silence. moment on their knees ; for it is 'Watch- “Eh, sir ?” said Gibson, turning sharply night,' and on the stroke of twelve."

upon the speaker, “my mother is His companions laughed, and the young Dead, thank God!” said a voice from man, thus encouraged, proceeded to give the sofa. Oh, Harry, I did not think them a humorous description of the man- it would come to this!" ner in which he and Frank—both being The poor boy was awake. He had heard then, as he phrased it, “religious dogs”- all, and the hearing had sobered him. had been wont, in years past, to spend “ It would have broken my mother's heart," New Year's Night at their “maternal he went on bitterly, “to know that one of grandmother's." This occasioned much her sons led the other to the brink of ruin, mirth ; and the bursts of laughter which and then called him fool and idiot for followed every allusion to the venerable plunging in; so let us be very thankful Christian-whose memory would, for her that she is dead!” He ceased, and for a few own and his mother's sake, have been sacred minutes no one spoke; but at last, trying

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hard to shake off the heavy hand which at worthy-had pitied the younger because this moment conscience laid upon his soul, he was yet a novice in the ways of vicious Gibson said, “You are talking wildly." men? Had the guilt and folly of the last “ And speaking truth.”

thirty days been real? And, if so, how " That may be so, but before too many could he meet her at the judgment-bar of witnesses. You can tell me to-morrow." God? “ To-morrow!” said Frank.

“ It is

This was Henry Gibson's Watch-night. Watch-night, and to-morrow is New Year's He sat there thinking until he dared Day, is it not? I will begin the New Year think no longer. Then, hiding his face on by going home.”

the pillow, he tried to pray. He had sinned “ You are unjust,” cried Henry. “I from the very first against God's light. A appeal to the others, who can yll bear wit- voice within had remonstrated and reness that I have tried hard to prevent your proved, but he had steadily refused to heed making such a fool of yourself.” His its warning. Now, he thought, retribubrother laughed.

tion had begun. What if the boy should “ Yes, that was all! I might be as be lost, altogether lost ! wicked as I pleased, so long as I 'fell in While these thoughts passed through with the fashion.' Why, you drink three the mind of the elder brother, Frank times as much as I; but you have the wit dreamed of home. His mother-so his to conceal your vice, while I, poor dupe ! fancy told him-was still alive, sitting once make myself, as you kindly observe, a fool. more, on the first morning of a new year, Oh, it is wonderful to see how cleverly you beside his bed, with her cool hand upon manage to sin without attracting more at- the brow which had always been given to tention than is consistent with what the aching. They were talking of Henry, and world calls respectability ; to drink deep, she was saying that he, Frank, would most and yet not be, in the world's opinion, a surely have a kind and wise protector in drunkard ; to delight in secret wickedness, his brother. Then he thought she was and yet have a reputation for strict mo- kneeling down and praying that her boy rality ; to decoy the young and compara- might turn out well, and crying a little tively innocent into the snares of the when she spoke of her own probable refowler, and then scorp them because they moval, not because she feared for herself, know'not how to conceal their degradation! but for him who had more than once deWonderful!"

clared that she could not, should not, must He sat down, looking keenly at one and not die! Poor Frank! he awoke at last to another, as if expecting a reply; but none find that it was not all a dream ; for there was offered. One by one, and in silence, were tears upon his pillow this New Year's the spectators of that sad contest went morning, and whispered prayers met his out, and the two miserable Gibsons were ear, as, with his face turned from his bro. left alone.

ther, he recalled the touching picture The night wore on; the morning slowly which had suddenly been withdrawn from dawned ; twilight as slowly brightened his mind he knew not how. into day; but still these brothers were un- “May God, for Christ's sake, forgive, and reconciled. The New Year's first gleam of leanse, and guide me!" The voice was sunshine looked in upon them; the world Henry's. Oi him, on that first morning of awoke; but still the gulf between them was the year, it was said in heaven, "Behold he deep and wide. At last, overcome by prayeth.” fatigue, Frank fell back heavily upon his Frank lay still, for it seemed impossible pi lows, and slept the troubled sloep of the to interrupt that cry for mercy. But at unhappy. His brother watched him for a last, when his name was repeated more little while, then rose, bent over him, and than once with a humble confession of guilt, touched his hair-it was very like his and a prayer that rich blessings might be mother's — with trembling gentleness. poured upon him from on high, he could Looking down on the smooth young brow, not refrain from crying out, “ Harry! the long dark lashes, the flushed cheeks, Harry!" and the restless limbs, he asked himself A moment more, and they were reconmore than once how he had dared to in- ciled. vite such a boy to "see life" in London. My story might end here, did not the Could it be possible that he—the eldest interests of truth require the addition of son of a mother of whom the world was not

one short, sad paragraph. The two Gib

$

sons were reconciled to each other that New Year's morning ; but although nearly a score of such mornings have since come and gone, and although the elder brother is reformed, not only in outward practice, but in heart, the younger is still the slave of the intoxicating cup. Most willingly would Henry Gibson give his life to undo the work of those thirty days of December, 1844, or to rescue from his degradation and misery

'poor boy -as he still calls him who was once so worthy of esteem and love. Bat it cannot be. He can only pray, hope, and labour, humbling himself in the dust before Heaven and before all who know the story; for “none of us can by any means redeem his brother, or give to God a ransom for him."

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THE ANGEL'S TREASURE. It was midnight when the angel of light sprang from the earth to go upward. There were sobbings and groans as he left, for he came out of a half-lighted chamber. Upward and upward he flew, and soon soared out of earth's night. Then he saw the sun before him. Onward and onward he flew, leaving the planet Venus on the righthand, and then Mars, and Saturn, and Jupiter, and the great Şun himself were left behind, far behind. Still upward he bent his flight, through the Milky Way into the vast regions of space, passing worlds and systems of worlds, straight upward and onward. At length he met a fellowangel on his way to a distant part of God's creation, so distant that it would take many thousands of our years to reach it. The beautiful and noble beings paused to greet each other.

“Whither bound, my friend ?"

“To that far-off world never yet pressed by angels' feet."

“How long have you been in the Preeence since your last great work?”

“ About two thousand years; yet they seem only a few hours. Time with us is hardly worth mentioning. I may now be absent many thousand years ; but they are nothing a mere drop dipped out of eternity. What have you there so carefully folded

up,

and carried in your bosom so tenderly?

“A jewel from earth."

“Earth! Earth! O how much I have heard of that little world, since the Son,

who is on the throne, went there to do his great work. I have never yet had the opportunity to visit it, but I know all its history ; and I have the promise that I shall

go there some day before it is burned up and destroyed. Perhaps I may be sent on some errand of great mercy! I have seen multitudes who were created there, who came up to live with us in heaven. I have heard many songs, but none so loud or so sweet as theirs. They sing of redeeming love. How they sympathize with all that is done in their world! But I will not hinder you, nor will I inquire further as to your precious charge. Farewell.” “Farewell

, noble one. May every bless. ing attend you !

So they separated. Then upward still darted the angel, straight towards the heaven of heavens. As he entered the golden gates all made way for him, for they saw that he had brought something very precious. No one stayed him to ask å question. Through the ranks of glorious ones he passed, till he stood before the great white throne, where was light greater than a thousand suns would emit. As he bowed in awe and love, a voice came forth : “ Good servant, hast thou done thine errand ?" Carefully and gently the angel took from his bosom a beautiful thing. It seemed lighter than air, sweeter than the breath of morning, and seemed to float like music. The everlasting arms were stretched out to receive it. It was the soul of a little child!

• Suffer it to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven.”

The beautiful little thing uttered no sound, but it seemed to thrill with joy un. utterable. Then ten thousand voices broke forth into songs of praise, and all the barps of heaven seemed to awake, and the daughters of music came forth from every quarter, and uttered his praise.

For through all the courts the tidings spread, that another jewel had come to shine in the eternal crown of Christ.

On earth there was a funeral. That night the mother dreamed that her little one was with her, and stretched out her arms to take it, and it was not there, as she awoke in tears. The little coffin held the beautiful body. Friends had put white flowers in the waxen hands, as they lay folded on its bosom. The whole house was in deep mourning, for the sunbeam had been quenched. The mother sobbed, and kissed the cold face of her child, and called

it dead. And she thought of it as dead. She could not realize that Christ could love her child more than she did, or that anybody could take care of it as ehe could, or that any other world would be as good a place to educate and train it as this, or that any bosom could shield it as could hers, or that it was far better off than to be here. Will she ever meet it again ? Will she know it among the angels of day wben she next sees it? Will it have any. thing about it by which any one would know that it was earth-born ? Will it be her child to fondle and love? Who can tell? Ah! mother, if you are a Christian, when you come to see as you are seen, and to know as you are known, you will see and feel that this removal of your child was all right, and just as you are glad to have it. Dry up your tears, then, and trust all to the wisdom and goodness of your blessed Redeemer.-Rev. John Todd, D.D.

THE LITTLE CHIMNEY-SWEEP.

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the city, snatched up his well-worn broom, and darted down the chimney. He did not intend to slip away down to the hearth without some warning to the people ; but he did. As it happened, nobody was in the room ; and when he looked from the fire-place out into the chamber, his eyes were perfectly bewildered with the splendour before him. Right glad was he, then, to make as general an observation from the bottom as he had from the top of the chimney. He had been inside many houses, but never had seen the interior of one like this.

“ Many a time,” he softly said, “ have I longed to look within Count Rulman's great mansion. I have often passed by it, and have frequently swept every chimney in it, but never until this moment could I feast upon the beauties of it. I have just enjoyed nature; now I will enjoy art."

Scarcely had Gotfried finished these words, when he began to creep out from the fire-place and made a survey of the room. His first thought was to stay where he first found himself, but that was impossible. He could not see so many beautiful objects without getting a nearer look at them. Did you ever see an owl? Well, his eyes were almost as large as an owl's eyes when he glanced hastily from one splendid piece of ornament of furniture to another.

“ What comfortable things these are ! What cushions, and chairs, and vases, and books! I thought only a few minutes ago that I would rather be a chimney-sweep than anything else on earth; but a boy like I am would, after all, be more comfortable to eat and sleep in such a room as this, and read those splendid books too, than to live in people's chimneys, and be covered with soot until I am as black as an Ethiopian. I wonder if the count wouldn't exchange with me a month or two; I would take his bouse and he take

my brushes. But then I would get new brooms and brushes for him; I wouldn't be dunce enough to give him my old ones, And when he sees the sunrise from the top of a chimney, he would never think of giving up his new business. More than all this, he is an old man, and can't enjoy this great mansion much longer. I am young, and strong, and healthy. An old man might as well die in the chimney as on a bed. He would die as easy too. May be he would find some difficulty in climbing, and letting himself down; but I would go about with him for a week, charge him

FROM THE GERMAN, On the chimney-top of a high house belonging to an old and wealthy nobleman in the city of Brunswick, there sat a little chimney-sweep, who looked with those clear blue eyes of his over the great mansions that were now shining in the rising

The magnificent scene brightened every moment before him, until he became no longer able to restrain his feeling, but broke forth in the following language :

“ Just think of it; even a chimneysweep can be happy this glorious morning! Look at the parks, the river, those old bridges, the duke's garden ; it makes me feel as rich as the duke himself. Those people walking on the streets below me don't lmow what a world this is ; they have no idea of what a morning they are passing through. Some of them are great folks, Ī know; but it would be a blessing to every one of them to be chimney.sweeps this hour, if no longer. What a pity people don't live on the top instead of inside their houses! I believe I will have my bed put on the roof of my house, that

when I am rich enough to have a house." Gotfried made many other such novel expressions as these, and all in sober earnest too; but concluded with the positive declaration, that he would rather be a dirty chimney-sweep than Emperor of Russia. He then gave a good long look around

BUD.

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