THE DREAM OF A LONDON APPRENTICE.

and beautiful in heaven, that 'eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither can the heart of man conceive the glory which shall be revealed.""

Now, as Francis had not been in the habit of hearing much on the subject of religion, he was the more struck with this discourse of the old porter. Especially he noticed the lively joy that he manifested in his look and manner, at the prospect of future happiness. For it was not mere talk with this good man: he really felt the unspeakable joy arising from a good hope of soon being in heaven. And he was most sincere in saying, that he accounted all the good and great things of this world as less than nothing in comparison of "that eternal weight of glory:" and O, how strange that every one is not of his opinion!

Francis and his old friend had many conversations after this on the same subject. Well would it be if such refined and high discourse were more frequently held in splendid drawing-rooms as that which often passed in the dark cellar. The result appeared to be unspeakably advantageous to young Francis. His mind was relieved of a weight of anxiety, and his spirits rose above their depression, so soon as he began to perceive that his real and ultimate happiness did not in the least depend on his condition in this world. He reflected with sensations of almost overwhelming delight, that boundless, endless, and even present felicity, was freely offered to his choice in the good news of the gospel. And as (most happily for him) he had no "great possessions" to distract his choice, he did not "turn away sorrowful," like that rich young man in the Gospel, but joyfully, thankfully, accepted of LIFE and HAPPINESS. Thus, without fortune, without friends, without any of those things which are sought after with such unceasing avidity by the men and women of this world, and to the attainment of which such tremendous sacrifices are made, this happy young boy found himself possessed of all wealth in the unsearchable riches of Christ.

"Why talk we now of earthly things,

The wealth of empires, crowns of kings,

Or aught below the skies?

Can crowns or sceptres be compared
With that exceeding great reward,

On which we fix our eyes?"

POETRY.-ANECDOTES AND SELECTIONS.

Poetry.

WHAT I THOUGHT AND SAW.

I THOUGHT upon my sins, and I was sad,
My soul was troubled sore and fill'd with pain;
But then I thought on Jesus, and was glad
My heavy grief was turned to joy again.

I thought upon the law, the fiery law,

Holy, and just, and good in its decree;
I look'd to Jesus, and in Him I saw

That law fulfill'd, its curse endured for me.
I thought I saw an angry frowning God,

Sitting as judge upon the great white throne;
My soul was overwhelm'd,-then Jesus show'd
His gracious face, and all my fear was gone.
I saw my sad estate, condemn'd to die,

Then terror seized my heart, and dark despair;
But when to Calvary I turn'd my eye,

I saw the cross, and read forgiveness there.

I saw that I was lost, far gone astray,

No hope of safe return there seem'd to be;
But then I heard that Jesus was the way--
A new and living way prepared for me.
Now in that way, so free, so safe, so sure,
Open'd for me through his atoning blood,

Will I abide, and never wander more,

Walking in fellowship with Christ and God

Anecdotes and Selections.

THE CLOTHIER'S APPRENTICE.-It is now more than sixty years ago that in a small town in the South of England, a clever lively lad stood at his master's shop door one summer evening, and seeing many people going by to a place of worship to hear a stranger, he went into the shop again and asked his master if he might go too. He went, but with no desire for religion, though his own good mother had often talked to him about it, and might, for anything he knew, be praying for him then. However he came away with an arrow, which the preacher had drawn at a venture, sticking fast in his conscience, and making him ery out, as he had never done before, "God be merciful to me a sinner! He now could not rest, and did not until he found in the blood of Christ the only balm that could heal his wounded spirit. Being a lad of ready

ANECDOTES AND SELECTIONS.

parts it was not long before he began to preach, and many were pleased to hear him. Having received some instruction, he was invited, while yet a very young man, to preach in one of the largest towns in England. He went, and became the minister of the congregation. Crowds came to hear him. A very large place of worship was built for him. He went on for more than fifty years in the same place, preaching, writing books, and doing good, until he was one of the most useful men in the world. Talking to a great number of young people once, he mentioned all this, and told them that all he was, and had, and hoped for, he owed to religion. This was the late JOHN ANGELL JAMES, of Birmingham, once an apprentice boy.

DR. DODDRIDGE, who was a pattern of industry, writing to a minister, said:" Pity me, and pray for me. O my poor, poor attempts of service!-they shame me continually. My prayers, iny sermons, my lectures, my books, my letters, all daily shame me." Some have thought, that, though this was sincere, yet it was an excessive effusion. But to this it may be answered, that, instead of its being excessive, it is only a proof of his increasing knowledge, for, in proportion as we receive light and grace, so shall we be led to see the imperfection of every thing we do. It was this that influenced Job to say, "Behold, I am vile;" Isaiah to cry, "Lo, I am undone;" and Paul to declare that he was "less than the least of all saints."

A MERITED REPROOF.-Some years ago a country parson, who was rather too fond of field sports, to the neglect of his duties, coming home one day after an unsuccessful chase, met a Quaker on the road. Immediately he rode up briskly to him, saying, “Obadiah, have you seen the hare?" "Why, neighbour, hast thou lost him?" said the Quaker. "Lost him! yes, indeed!" "Then," replied he, "If I were the hare, I would run where I am sure thou couldst never find me.' "Where is that?" said the son of Nimrod. 66 Why neighbour," the other answered, "I would run into thy study."

THE LATE HEARERS.-A minister observing that some of his people made a practice of coming in very late, and after a considerable part of the sermon was gone through, was determined that they should feel the force of a public reproof. One day, therefore, as they entered the place of worship at their usual late period, the minister addressing his congregation, said, "But, my hearers, it is time for us now to conclude, for here are our friends just come to fetch us home." We may easily conjecture what the parties felt at this curious but pointed address.

JOHN LAMBERT suffered as a martyr in the year 1538. No man was used at the stake with more cruelty. They burned him with a slow fire; for if it kindled higher and stronger than they chose, they removed it away. Just before he expired, he lifted up such hands as he had, all shrivelled with fire, and cried out to the people with his dying voice, these glorious words, "None but Christ! None but Christ!" He was at last beaten down into the fire, and expired.

LOVE watches over the cradle of the infant, over the couch of the aged, over the welfare and comfort of each and all; to be happy, man retires from the out-door world to his home. In the household circle the troubled heart finds consolation, the disturbed finds rest, the joyous finds itself in its true element. Pious souls, when they speak of death, say that they are going home. Their longing for heaven is to them a home-sickness. Jesus also represented the abode of eternal happi ness under the picture of a home, a father's house. Does not this tell us that the earthly home is appointed to be a picture of heaven, and a foretaste of that happier home? And is it not the duty of father and mother, and brother and sister, to make their own home as much like that as they can? Love, and love only, can make it so.

MY WIFE AN' MY WEANS.

BY A GLASGOW PORTER.

My hame is aye cheerie whene'er til't I gang,
Ance there I ne'er weary, or think the time lang,
For the bliss o' contentment and peace ever reigns
An' brighten the smile o' my wife and the weans.
My wages are sma', but I'm a'ways content,
An' thankfu' to God for the blessings He's sent;
It would dae me nae good t' indulge in complains,
They would only be fretting my wife and the weans.

"When my earnin's I get I hamewards repair,
An' as sune as I'm heard to put foot on the stair,
I meet a reward for my toil an' my pains,

In the loud loving welcome o' my wife an' my weans.
Then, when I'm set down, I take ane on my knee,
The ithers come roun' for the promised bawbee,
If the task's been negleckit, they're sure to get nane,
For I ne'er could encourage an indolent wean.

I've laid down a rule they maun strictly obey,
That forbids needless wark on the Lord's Holy Day,
For the wisest o' kings that on earth did e'er reign,
Says, in age man but walks as he crept when a wean.
Sae supper ance owre, and the day wearing dark,
Each gets his ain portion and share o' the wark;
Ane brushes the shoon, ithers clean the hearthstane,
Whilst their mither sits sewing, or rocking the wean.

B

THE PENNY POST BOX.

If my claes hae been torn, she gets needle and shears,
She patches the holes and mends up the tears;
An' to keep her in humour while pingling her lane,
I read some bit book or I sing to the wean.
Afore bedtime we kneel roun' the family throne,
Our sins to confess, an' our wants to mak' known,
To Him, who has promised the humble in prayer,
As aft as they meet, to be ane wi' them there.

I care nae a snuff what my comrades may think;
They may ca' me a miser because I'll nae drink;
I hae naething to spare when each ane gets his ain,
Unless I was robbing the wife an' the wean.
When I come to the close o' my earthly career,
An' the grim king o' terrors to me shall appear,
May Jesus be with me; then nothing remains,
But commit to my God my wife an' the weans.

The Penny Post Box.

JAMES MUNCE.

PATIENT SUFFERING AND GENEROUS SYMPATHY.

SEVERE trials often prove what sort of stuff a man is made of. It is so too with a nation; and every Englishman may now be more proud of his country than he ever was. I refer to the patience of the sufferers in Lancashire, and the generous help that has been afforded them. Perhaps no country in the world but England could have afforded such a spectacle. For no sooner was it found that hundreds of thousands of working men and their families would be without employment through the failure of the cotton supply from America, than hundreds of thousands of pounds were generously contributed for their relief. The Lancashire workmen are no vagabonds. Not they! They were willing to work, no men more willing; and they had none by no fault of their own. That accursed slave system in America did it all! But look at that Lancashire workman as he sits powerless in his neat cottage and sees his anxious wife take first one thing and then another away to sell, that she may buy bread for her hungry children. Does he think of plundering his richer neighbours? Not he; he would sooner die than do it. All honour I say to these noble-minded men! More worthy of our admiration are they than even the brave fellows who held their ground on the hill of the field of Waterloo against the fierce onsets of their mighty foes. That was for a few hours; this has been for weeks and months of hopeless days and sleepless nights! And now we ought to ask where did these men learn to suffer with such patience? There is only one answer-IN THE SCHOOL OF CHRIST. Sabbath schools,