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THE FIRESIDE.

RICHARD BAXTER, after he had spent many years in the advancement of the glory of God, by laborious and constant preaching, unceasing pastoral labours, and numerous publications from the press, was yet unwilling to give himself ease, even amidst the infirmities of disease and age. An old gentleman who heard him preach, related, that when he ascended the pulpit, with a man following him to prevent his falling backwards, and to support him, if needful, in the pulpit, many persons would be ready to say he was more fit for a coffin than for labour; but all this he would soon forget, and manifest the fervour and energy of youth in his labours. It was feared, the last time he preached, that he would have died in the pulpit; and yet, such was his humility, that when reminded of his labours on his death-bed, he replied, "I was but a pen in God's hand, and what praise is due to a pen ?"

"I AM ON THE ROCK."-A christian minister, who had been a devoted servant of his master, was asked in his last hours how he felt in prospect of death. His reply was, "I feel that I am weakness itself. But I am on the Rock. I have no transports of joy. But I feel that I can trust on the mercy of God in Christ. My religious peace began there, and I am willing it should end there. God in Christ is all in all."

The Fireside.

PRIDE AND PASSION KILLED BY KINDNESS.

HERE is an anecdote from New England that will do to tell in the old country, where such things happen sometimes as well as over the water yonder.

"A young woman in Vermont married a poor but worthy man against her father's wish. He drove them from his house, and closed both his door and his heart against them. They came down near Boston, went to work, and prospered.

After many years the father had occasion to come to Boston. He concluded to go and see his daughter, expecting a cold reception. His daughter and her husband received him kindly and lovingly. After staying with them awhile he went back to Vermont.

One of his neighbours hearing where he had been, asked him how his daughter and her husband had treated him?

'I was never so kindly treated in my life before,' said he, weeping. 'They have broken my heart-they have killed me; I feel as if I could not live under it !'

'Why, what did they do to you?' asked the neighbour.

'Oh! they let me see that they loved me more than I loved them. They almost killed me with kindness. I can never forgive myself for behaving as I did to my own child, who, after all, loved me so much.

THE PENNY POST BOX.

I feel as if I could never get over it; to think how I grieved her when I turned her from my door. Heaven bless them, and forgive me!' said he, sobbing as if his heart would break all the time."

Let us hope that the old man, though he could not forgive himself, asked God to forgive him for Christ's sake, and so became not only a better man but a christian. For had he been a christian when his daughter got married against his wishes, he might have disapproved, but he would have forgiven her. His pride and passion, shown by his bad temper, made him miserable. However, kindness subdued him, as it often has done; and no wonder, for it is the kindness of our loving Saviour, who died for us, that breaks our stubborn hearts, and reconciles us to our Heavenly Father.

The Penny Post Box.

THE VILLAGE GOSSIPS.

I THINK these lines may be the means of doing a little good; if you think so, put them in what you call your "Penny Post Box." J.D.

Oн, could there in this world be found,
Some little spot of happy ground,
Where village teachers might go round
Without the village tattling!
How doubly blest that place would be,
Where all might dwell in liberty,
Free from the bitter misery

Of gossips endless pratling.

If such a spot were really known,
Dame Peace might claim it as her own,
And in it she might fix her throne

For ever and for ever;

There like a queen might reign and
live,

While every one would soon forgive
The little slights they may receive,
And be offended never.

"Tis mischief makers that remove

And then they've such a cunning way
Of telling ill-meant tales-they say,
"Don't mention what I've said, I pray,
I would not tell another."
Strait to a neighbour's house they go,
Narrating everything they know,
And break the peace of high and low,

Wife, husband, friend, and brother.

Oh! that this mischief making crew
Were all reduced to one or two,
And they were painted red or blue,

That every one might know them!
Then would our villagers forget
To rage and quarrel, fume and fret,
And fall into an angry pet,

With things so much below them.

For 'tis a sad degrading part
To make another's bosom smart,

Far from our hearts the warmth of And plant a dagger in the heart

love,

And lead us all to disapprove
What gives another pleasure;
They seem to take our part-but when
They've heard our cares, unkindly then
They soon retail them all again,

Mixed with their poisonous measure.

We ought to love and cherish;
Then let us evermore be found
In quietness with all around,
While friendship, joy, and peace
abound,

And angry feelings perish!

F. C. G.

FACTS, HINTS, GEMS, AND POETRY.

Facts, Hints, Gems, and Poetry.

Facts.

GREEN GRASS EVERYWHERE.

THE grasses furnish a larger amount of sustenance to animal life than all other tribes of plants together; and so profusely have they been shed abroad in every conceivable variety, as climate, soil, and situation may influence their growth, that the earth has taken their colouring for a garment, and presents a firmament of green almost as unbroken as the upper firmament of blue, which is the only other prevailing tint in nature. No matter how elevated or how barren the spot, grasses of some kind will make themselves a home in it; and when every variety of soil and climate has been furnished with its appropriate kinds, others find for themselves sites in water, carpeting the bed of the brook, or binding the shingle together on the shore of the sea; others, on ruins, house-tops, and subterranean retreats, if but a glimpse of daylight reach them. In that remarkable work, "The Flora of the Colosseum," in which Mr. Deakin has described four hundred and twenty plants found growing spontaneously on the ruins of the Colosseum at Rome, there are no fewer than fifty-six grasses entered as flourishing in various parts of that venerable ruin. This universality of grass is one of the most poetical of facts in the economy of the world. There is no place which it will not beautify. It climbs up the steep mountain passes which are inaccessible to man, and forms ledges of green amid the rivings of the crags: it leaps down between steep shelving precipices, and there fastens its slender roots in the dry crevices which the earthquakes had rent long ago, and into which the water trickles when the

sunbeams strike the hoary snows above. There it leaps and twines in the morning light, and flings its sweet laughing greenness to the sun; there it creeps and climbs about the mazes of solitude, and weaves its fairy tassels with the wind. It beautifies even that spot, and spreads over the sightless visage of death and darkness the serene beauty of a summer smile, flinging its green lustre on the bold granite, and perfuming the lips of Morning as she stoops from heaven to kiss the green things of the earth. It makes a moist and yielding carpet over the whole earth, on which the impetuous may pass with hurried tread, or the feet of beauty linger. And from this universality of growth grass derives its specific name.-Hibberd's "Brambles and Bay Leaves."

Hints

A MAN'S COUNTENANCE will often, not always, tell you what he is. As a rule, however, doing good makes a man look good, as doing evil makes him look evil.

CURIOSITY.-The indulgence of a sinful curiosity ruined the world. And now it is a kernel of the forbidden fruit, which sticks in the throats of some men, to the danger of choking them.

LOW CUNNING is the road to roguery which some men take to gain bad ends. But it is a slippery path, along which, after all, none but fools would choose to walk.

HABITS AND CUSTOMS, good or bad, adopted in youth, and indulged in riper years, become a kind of second nature in old age. Good or badmind that. Which are yours? See after them.

A DECEITFUL MAN is a fool for his pains; for if found out, as he mostly

FACTS, HINTS, GEMS, AND POETRY.

is, no one will trust him again; and who would like to be in such an awkward fix as that?

FEMALE LOVELINESS is never so attractive as when adorned by neat simplicity of dress. Only think, if you can, of an artist painting the graceful form of an angel in a crinoline!

Gems.

BIBLE THOUGHTS.

On Man.

MAN was made to be a king and a subject. He was to touch the sceptre of heaven, and sway the sceptre of earth. Man was crowned in creationuncrowned in temptation-re-crowned in salvation.

In the beginning of the Bible he is a lord, in the middle a slave, at the end a king.

Sin reduces man to slavery-salvation exalts man to royalty.

The man who kneels at a throne in penitence, shall sit on one in power. Sin brought to man a curse-and to the Saviour a cross.

Man's greatest enemy is his pride. He that has no pride has no poverty. The spirit emptied of self shall be filled with the riches of heaven. When man cries lost, heaven echoes found. When man says shadow, heaven answers substance.

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and the soul which clothes herself in the sable garments of sorrow, shall be finally clad in the shining garments of salvation. G. H.

Poetic Selections.

POEM ON THE PATTERN PRAYER. Or this old specimen of curious composition, only two manuscript copies are known. It is said to have been written by Bishop Andrews. Ir any one be distressed, and fain would gather Some comfort, let him haste unto Our Father;

For we of hope and help are quite bereaven
Except thou succour us
Who art in heaven;
Thou showest mercy, therefore for the same
We praise Thee, singing,
Hallowed be thy name.
Of all our miseries cast up the sum;
Show us thy joys, and let
Thy kingdom come.
We mortal are, and alter from our birth;
Thy will be done on earth;
Thou mad'st the earth as well as planets
Thy name be blessed here

Thou constant art

seven

As 'tis in heaven.

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THE CHILDREN'S CORNER.

The Children's Corner.

STOPPING AT THE SABBATH SCHOOL.

WALTER BURNS was fifteen years old. Although early deprived by death of a mother's love and care, his father had watched over him and given him good advice. Walter had been for several years in a sabbath school class in which were eight or ten boys of about the same age. These had dropped off one by one, until now but three were left.

"Father," said Walter, one sabbath morning, “almost all the boys have left our class. They think they are too old to be in it. Only two or three of them are there now, and I wish to leave too."

Mr. Burns looked in his son's face a moment, and then said sadly— "Walter, there are some things of which I have never spoken to you, because there has never yet seemed cause for me to do so. The time has now come when I ought to speak.

When you were three years old you lost your mother. You have never known how great is such a loss. Among your mother's last words was the request, that as soon as you were old enough, I would place you in the sabbath school; and she said it was her prayer for her dear little boy, who would soon be motherless, that he might continue a scholar in it till he should learn to love the Saviour, and be prepared, if it became his duty, to be a teacher.

I need not tell you what my own wishes and prayers, since then, have been. And now my son says he feels too old to remain longer in sabbath school, though he has not yet found Christ."

Walter saw the tears gathering in his father's eyes, and turned away. Nothing more was said about leaving the class. He remembered his mother's dying wish, and the earnest longings of his praying father, and went until he found the Saviour in the sabbath school.

He is a man now, an active christian, and the beloved superintendent of a large sabbath school in one of our cities; and I have seen the eyes of both parents and children grow moist with tears as he has told them this story of his boyhood.

Boys, are any of you beginning to think you are too old to be sabbath scholars? Remember Walter Burns, and think of the matter very seriously before you decide to leave such a good place.

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