ANECDOTES AND SELECTIONS. At about that time there was also published, "The Spiritual Mustard Pot to Make the Soul Sneeze with Devotion;" "Salvation's Vantageground, or a Louping-stand for Heavy Believers." Another, "A Shot aimed at the Devil's Head-quarters through the Tube of the Covenant." Another, A Reaping Hook well tempered for the Stubborn Ears of the Coming Crop; or Biscuits Baked in the Oven of Charity, Carefully Conserved for the Chickens of the Church, the Sparrows of the Spirit, and the Sweet Swallows of Salvation." In another we have the following copious description of its contents: "Seven Sobs of a Sorrowful Soul for Sin; or, the Seven Penitential Psalms of the Princely Prophet David, whereunto is also added William Humino's Handful of Honeysuckles, and divers godly and pithy ditties, now newly augmented." THE FLOWERS OF PALESTINE.-"The hills in the region of Mount Tabor," says Dr. Bellows, “offer better pasturage than any we have met in the Holy Land, and yet there seem fewer flocks upon them. But the flowers have taken advantage of this absence of cattle and people, to spring up in a variety and beauty I have never seen equalled. We gathered bouquets in a few moments by the path which I defy any London conservatory to equal in beauty, and freshness, and variety, or in rarity. Such feathery things, such fairy shapes, such delicate colours, such exquisite contrasts, were never, it seems to me, combined in any nosegay, and I felt then, as I do now, ashamed that my feeble botany could not name and place them. I make their beauty the amende of a most honourable mention. Could I have sent one of those Syrian bouquets to each of my beloved friends at home, I would gladly have paid the largest price for a hundred; and a hundred might have been plucked from a rood of ground. But their frailty was equal to their freshness and delicacy. There is a solemnity in the houseless, treeless, unpeopled state of this fine country which is an affecting preparation for the approach to the great centre of Jesus' ministry, the Sea of Galilee. Nature seems to say there is no room for anything in this sacred region but the memory of Him whose glory fills the earth. The hills are green, and flowery, and fragrant, but they refuse any meaner service than that of acting as the witness of Him who, once putting their lilies above Solomon in all his glory, used them as His altar and His pulpit." WE SHALL BE LIKE HIM.-It is a blessed hope that we shall be like Him. The Bridegroom will come, and bring with Him all those that He took to Him. Those that were too good for earth, because ripe for heaven, and therefore gathered into everlasting garners, He will bring with Him. Those on whom the cold shadow of death has lain for many a long and weary year, He will waken from the sleep of death and bring with Him. The infant which dropped from a mother's lap, she thought into unknown space, she will find was laid in the lap of its Father in heaven; this infant He will bring with Him. The babes that fell from the tree of life, and the gray-haired men that THE FIRESIDE. withered by the wear of years by its branches, the fair, the beautiful, the holy ones that we would have kept because we loved them better, will all reappear, with not one blemish left upon a single brow; not one rude mark remaining on the spirit, not one sting in any heart; all sensations bliss, all sights beauty, all sounds music. "The bride shall receive the bridegroom, and she shall no more go out; and there shall be no more tears." How beautiful the apocalyptic passage; it is almost music to hear it: "And there shall be no more tears, nor sorrow, nor crying, nor death; all things shall be made new.” ONLY THE CHISELLING."—A Christian mother lay dying. Beside her a loving daughter stood, smoothing from the death-damp brow the matted hair. Prolonged suffering had made deep lines on the once beautiful face; but still there rested on those features a calm, peaceful expression, which nothing but a hope in Jesus could give. Tears fell upon the pallid face, from eyes that were closely watching the "changing of the countenance." Conscious of the agony that caused them to fall, the mother, looking heavenward, whispered, "Patience, darling, it is only the chiselling." Reader, the Master Sculptor "seeth not as man seeth." There are many deformities that must needs be chiselled off before thou canst find place in the gallery on high. The Fireside. HOW TO SPOIL A HUSBAND. A WIFE may love her husband and children; and may perform her ordinary duties faithfully, and yet ruin her husband by her foolish ambition. I say foolish ambition, for there is such a thing as a sensible, thrifty, and honourable ambition. It is a good thing to have an ambitious wife. A man is quickened, stirred up, and kept sharp. He is inspired to better his condition and to lift his children to a level far above that at which he started. But let a woman's ambition turn on show and seeming rather than on substance and reality, and she will drive her husband to ruin, unless he is made of uncommonly good stuff. She wishes to equal the best. She is ambitious of clothes, of a fine, but for him extravagant, table. She envies every one more prosperous than her husband is. She wishes a house a little beyond his means; she will have clothes not consistent with his income; she demands expensive pleasures which suck up all his slender earnings; she brings him in debt, keeps him feverish with anxiety, and finally poisons his very honesty. Many a man breaks down in reputation and becomes a castaway under the stimulation of his wife's dishonest ambition; for to live beyond one's means is dishonest, and to desire to do so is to desire a dishonest thing. THE PENNY POST BOX. Let a woman scatter faster than her husband can gather; let her notion of duty send her gadding after everbody's business but her own; let her religion be severe and censorious, and stand along the path of duty like a thorn-locust hedge on a garden walk, which pricks and tears everybody that goes near it; let her secure the art of making home uncomfortable, and of tempting her husband to prefer any other place to it; let her use her husband as seamstresses do pincushions, to stick pins in; and, with ordinary luck, she will ruin any uncommonly clever fellow in a few years. Having driven him to a drunkard's grave, she can muffle her martyred heart under funeral-smelling crape, and walk in comely black, until some victim helps her put on again her wedding suit. The Penny Post Box. MOTHERS, SPEAK LOW. I KNOW some houses, well built and handsomely furnished, where it is not pleasant to be even a visitor. Sharp, angry tones resound through them from morning till night, and the influence is as contagious as measles, and much more to be dreaded in a household. The children catch it and it lasts for life-an incurable disease. A friend has such a neighbour within hearing of her house when doors and windows are open, and even Poll Parrot caught the tune, and delights in screaming until she has been sent into the country to improve her habits. Children catch cross tones quicker than parrots, and it is a much more mischievous habit. When mother sets the example, you will scarcely hear a pleasant word among the children in their plays with each other. Yet the discipline of such a family is always weak and irregular. The children expect just so much scolding before they do anything they are bid, while in many a home, where the low, firm tone of the mother, or the decided look of her steady eye is law, they never think of disobedience, either in or out of her sight. O, mother, it is worth a great deal to cultivate that "excellent thing in woman,' a low, sweet voice. If you are ever so much tried by the mischievous or wilful pranks of the little ones, speak low. It will be a great help to you, to even try to be patient and cheerful, if you cannot succeed. Anger makes you wretched, and your children also. Impatient, angry tones, never did the heart good, but plenty of evil. Read what Solomon says of them, and remember he wrote with an inspired pen. You cannot have the excuse for them that they lighten your burdens any; they make them only ten times heavier. For your own, as well as your children's sake, learn to speak low. They will remember that tone when your head is under the willows. So, too, will they remember a harsh and angry tone. Which legacy will you leave to your children? FACTS, HINTS, GEMS, AND POETRY. Facts, Hints, Gems, and Poetry. Facts. LOCAL TAXATION OF THE CITY OF THE annual income of the Corporation of the city of London is between three and four hundred thousand pounds a year. About seventy thousand pounds were spent on the police establish ment. The paving of streets cost thirtyeight thousand pounds. The cleansing, twenty-one thousand pounds. The lighting, over fourteen thousand pounds. The sanitary expenses, salaries, and law expenses, amounted to nearly thirty-seven thousand pounds. About one hundred and five thou sand pounds were spent in public im Take heed of every sin ; count no sin small; and obey every command with your might. Those who would go to heaven when they die, must begin their heaven while they live. Whatever is of nature's spinning must be all unravelled before Christ's righteousness can be put on. Keep pace with the march of time in the improvement of thy heart. To fall behind is to fall into perdition. Worldly pleasures are no more able to satisfy the soul than the light of a candle to give day to the world. Liberty has no actual rights which are not grafted upon justice; and the chief duty of liberty is to defend justice. excuses himself. A lie always needs a truth for a handle to it, else the hand would cut itself which sought to drive it home upon another. Poetic Selections. THE WELL OF SYCHAR. SWEET was the hour, O Lord, to thee, Thither she came; but oh! her heart, Lord, 'twas thy power unseen that drew There Jacob's erring daughter found And, Lord, to us, as vile as she, POETIC SELECTIONS.-THE CHILDREN'S CORNER. That mystery of love revealed At Jacob's well of old. In spirit, Lord, we've sat with thee Of life and peace, and heard thee there Dead to the world, we dream no more No hope of rest in aught beside, And, like Samaria's daughter, seek THE BUILDERS. ALL are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. Nothing useless is, or low; Each thing in its place is best; For the structure that we raise, Our to-days and yesterdays Are the blocks with which we build. Truly shape and fashion these; In the elder days of Art, Builders wrought with greatest care Let us do our work as well, Both the unseen and the seen; Else our lives are incomplete, Build to-day, then, strong and sure, To those turrets, where the eye -Longfellow. The Children's Corner. I WISH I WERE RICH. "I WISH I were rich, I would buy everything," cried Charlie. "The sun, moon, and stars?" inquired William. "No; everything that can be had for money." "That's not happiness," said William. "Get your hat, Charlie, and come with me to Mr. Morrison's," said his father. "O! please not, papa, he is such a disagreeable, miserable old man, with his cross looks and gouty foot, hobbling about and groaning." "I think you would like to live with him!" said his father. "I, papa? I had rather live down a coal-pit !" "With him you would have all that can be bought with money." "I recant. I see it won't do," said Charlie. bought with money." "Health can not be "Nor good temper, nor friendship, nor life," said William. "Above all," added their father, "the favour of God cannot be bought with money. Be content with as much of it as God gives, and seek to use it aright." |