glowed not with gratitude to the great Giver of the blessings he enjoyed. I visited a sick man on his couch of affliction, his countenance was pale, and his body wasted by disease. He was as feeble as a child, and could not sit upright without being supported by pillows; but the Bible lay beside him; his lips at times moved in prayer; his looks were resigned and tranquil, and his language was, "God is my refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble," Psa. xlvi. 1. I met one who had gained riches, and whose heart was lifted up on account of his possessions. Puffed up with pride he talked scornfully of those who had not fine houses and full purses, forgetful of the injunction, "If riches increase, set not your heart upon them," Psa. lxii. 10. Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth," Col. iii. 2. I fell in with a poor man, who worked hard to gain a livelihood for himself and family. No complaint was on his lips when I asked after his welfare. He was thankful for health that enabled him to labour, and praised God for the daily mercies that he enjoyed. I reflected on what I had heard and seen, and pondered on the characters that had occupied my attention. Two of them possessed what most of us desire, while the others seemed lowly and of little estimation. I compared the healthy and the rich with the sick and the poor, and the advantage was greatly on the side of the cast down and the lowly. The depressed felt their own weakness, and trusted in the Strong for strength, while the proud and puffed up leaning on uncertain health and riches, were unfit to encounter adversity, and still more so to meet their latter end. They were poor when they believed themselves rich; they were weak while they fancied themselves strong. And can it be that man, proud man, vaunting himself on his intelligence, can fall into such an error as to think himself wise when he is foolish, rich when he is poor, and strong when he is perfect weakness? Even so! But now, reader, put the question to thyself and ask if this error be thine? Art thou trusting in thine own strength, and putting confidence in aught below the skies? or knowest thou, of a truth, that thy life, with all that it involves, is a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away?" Jas. iv. Put thy trust in Him only who changes not, but is the same "yesterday, and to-day, and for ever." Heb. xiii. 18. 14. Trust in a prince-his word shall fail In health, and wealth, and world's regard― Trust thine own heart-'tis faithless all Thy life--'tis insecure: But he who trusteth in the Lord For ever shall endure. M. PLEASURE IS CHEAP. DID you ever study the cheapness of some pleasures? Do you know how little it takes to make a multitude happy? Such trifles as a penny, a word, or a smile, do the work. There are two or three boys passing along-give them each a chestnut, and how smiling they look! they will not be cross for some time. A poor widow lives in a neighbourhood, who is the mother of half a dozen children; send in half a peck of sweet apples, and they will all be happy. A child has lost his arrow-the world to him-and he mourns sadly; help him to find it, or make him another, and how quickly will the sunshine play upon his sober face. A boy has as much as he can do to pile up a load of wood; assist him a few moments, or speak a pleasant word to him, and he forgets his toil and works away without minding it. Your apprentice has broken a mug, or cut the vest too large, or slightly injured a piece of work; say, "You scoundrel," and he feels miserable; but remark, "I am sorry,' " and he will try to do better.. You employ a man-pay him cheerfully, and speak a pleasant word to him, and he leaves your house with a contented heart, to light up his own hearth with smiles of gladness. As you pass along the street, you meet a familiar face-say, "Good morning," as though you felt happy, and it will work admirably in the heart of your neighbour. Pleasure is cheap-who will not bestow it liberally? If there are smiles, sunshine and flowers all about us, let us not grasp them with a miser's fist and lock them up in our hearts. No. Rather let us take them and scatter them about us, in the cot of the widow, among the groups of children in the crowded mart, where men of business congregate, in our families, and everywhere. We can make the wretched, happy; the discontented, cheerful; the afflicted, resigned; at an exceedingly cheap rate. Who will refuse to do it? P. T. LUCK. THE REV. H. W. Beecher says in one of his lectures :"I may here, as well as anywhere, impart the secret of good and bad luck. There are men, who, supposing fortune, as they say, to have an implacable spite against them, bemoan in the poverty of a wretched old age, the misadventures of their lives. Luck for ever ran against them, and for others. One with a good profession, lost his luck in the river, where he idled away his time in fishing, when he should have been in the office. Another, with a good trade, perpetually burned up his luck by his hot temper, which provoked his employers to leave him. Another, with a lucrative business, lost his luck by amazing diligence at everything but his business. Another, who steadily followed his trade, as steadily followed his bottle. Another, who was honest and constant to his work, erred by perpetual misjudgments; he lacked discretion. Hundreds lose their luck by endorsing bills; by sanguine speculations; by trusting fraudulent men, and by dishonest gains. A man never has good luck who has a bad wife. I never knew an early-rising, hard-working, prudent man, careful of his earnings and strictly honest, who complained of bad luck. A good character, good habits, and iron industry, are impregnable to the assaults of all the ill luck that fools ever dreamed of. But when I see a tatterdemalion, creeping out of a beershop late in the forenoon, with his hands stuck into his pockets, the rim of his hat turned up, and the crown knocked in, I know he has had bad luck,-for the worst of all luck is to be a sluggard, a knave, or a tippler." CHILDREN. OH how freely are blessings shed around us! Sunshine, and fresh air, and pure water, and glowing skies, and green leaves and blooming flowers, and birds, and bees, and butterflies, and young children! Where can you go that the bright, blue eyes of young children are not seen? That the music of their lisping voices is not heard? Young children are seen and heard in the city, but in the sweet, sunny air, and the quiet of country places, their baby prattling finds the nearest way to our hearts. The laughter of a child is yet more cheerful than the lay of the singingbird, and a butterfly, with silvery wings, is less pleasant than an infant's smile. Go to the valleys, rich with murmuring streams; go to the thousand hills where blow the balmy breezes, and rising up from the cottages around will come the joyous sounds of sporting children, telling the grateful truth that little things can make little folks happy. Lambkins at play, with all their lively gambols, have not half the charms of guileless, sportive childhood! Think you that the babe, rocking in the cradle of the peasant's cottage, has a less sweet smile than the one that sleeps in the palace of the prince! No! The sunny light of childhood's eyes is as common as the air we breathe; like the sunshine of the skies it falleth every where. Some have met with "angels unawares," and the nearest to this I have sometimes fancied is to partake the spiritmirth of guileless and exulting children in the moment of their joyous ecstasies. Oh that such heralds of happiness, such bright shapes of delight should ever be stained with Love them! Guard them! Guide them and train them up for heaven! sin! The simplicity, the meekness, and the docile spirit of childhood are qualities that man may well strive to obtain. Again, I say, that the laughter of a child is yet more cheerful than the lay of the singing-bird; that the butterfly with silvery wings is less pleasant than an infant's smile, and that lambkins at play, with all their gambols, have not half the winning charms of guileless, sportive childhood. No wonder that the wise, the kind, and the good, love children, and how delightful that the Redeemer should say, "Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven." HEAVENLY CONVERSATION. Or what description is the conversation of heaven? Hark! Is that holy angel relating a tale of slander? That group of heavenly messengers, almost lost to our view in ethereal brightness, are they busied in whisperings, and backbitings, and revilings? Those out-spread celestial wings, returning from their earthward mission, are they gladly bearing the tidings that a saint has fallen, or that a sinner is confirmed in his iniquity? Oh no! The joy of heaven is over the sinner that repenteth, and over the backslider reclaimed. That council of the hosts of heaven with attention rivetted on earth, are they watching for the faults and failings of its inhabitants that they may report them in heaven? No; they are bending all their faculties to understand the manifold wisdom of God made visible in his church. Christian brethren and sisters! are we indulging either from malice or idleness, in talebearing, in calumny, in evil reports? Then our conversation is not heavenly. It cannot be admitted there, for its holy gates exclude all that loveth or maketh a lie, Rev. xxi. 27. The talebearer and the slanderer are classed with the liar and the murderer, Prov. vi. 16, 17; Rom. i. 29, 30. If our conversation be indeed heavenly it will resemble, in its measure, that of the spirits of the just made perfect. Thoughts and words of malice, of covetousness, of envy, of selfishness, are for ever banished from their pure intercourse; and the deeds and the purposes of the Lamb that was slain and hath redeemed them by his blood furnish an untiring theme for their unwearying tongues. Christian brethren, let our conversation be thus heavenly. 0.0. BIBLE COLPORTEURS IN FRANCE. ONE colporteur, or Bible distributor, relates, "I waited on the priest of the parish. I showed him a Bible. He would not buy it, saying, he had one which was better than mine. I took out a New Testament, requesting him to examine it, and see. He refused, saying, he had known it long. At last, I asked his opinion respecting my books." He said, "I consider them very bad. Shall I tell you what I do, when I find these books among the young people of my flock ?" I said, "Do you encourage and recommend them to read the word of God?" "Ha ha! (said he,) I burn them as soon as I meet with them." 66 What, sir! do you burn the word of the living God? and are you not afraid that he will punish such conduct?" He turned away. "Sir," continued I, "this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil." He turned round to me, and said, "Nevertheless, I will burn your books, if they come across me, among my congregation." "Beware, sir, was my final answer, "the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who hold the truth in unrighteousness.' دو |