FACTS, HINTS, GEMS, AND POETRY.

The man of energy is not old; it is only he who suffers his energies to waste away, and permits the spring of his life to become motionless, on whose hands the hours drag heavily, and to whom all things wear the vestments of gloom. There are scores of gray heads living to-day that we would prefer in any important enterprise to those young gentlemen who fear and tremble when shadows approach, and turn away at the first harsh word or discouraging frown.

Facts, Hints, Gems, and Poetry.

POETIC SELECTIONS. THE CHILDRENS' CORNER.

There are wrongers of subjects as well as writers on them,-Coleridge. The prime condition of a life ever found is a life ever lost.-R. Collyer.

The various sects are only different entrances to the one city.-Hindoo Pundit.

Better make penitents by gentleness than hypocrites by severity.—St. Francis de Sales.

Force is the queen of the world, and not opinion; but opinion is that which uses force.-Pascal.

A guilty conscience is like a whirlpool, drawing in all to itself which would otherwise pass by.-Fuller.

Conceit is to nature what paint is to beauty, it is not only needless, but impairs what it would improve.-Pope.

Despise a man, and you become of the kind you would make him; love him, and you lift him into yours.-George Macdonald.

It is only necessary to grow old to become more indulgent. I see no fault committed that I have not committed myself.—Goethe.

Poetic Selections.

THE GREAT HEREAFTER.
"TIS sweet to think, when struggling
The goal of life to win,

That just beyond the shores of time
The better years begin.

When through the nameless ages
I cast my longing eyes,
Before me, like a boundless sea,
The great hereafter lies.
Along its brimming bosom

Perpetual summer smiles,
And gathers like a golden robe
Around the emerald isles.
There, in the blue long distance,
By lulling breezes fanned,
I seem to see the flowering groves
Of fair old Beulah's land.

And far beyond the islands

That gem the waves serene,
The image of the cloudless shore
Of holy heaven is seen.
Unto the great hereafter-

Aforetime dim and dark-
I freely now and gladly give
Of life the wandering bark.
And in the far-off haven,
When shadowy seas are passed,
By angel-hands its quivering sails
Shall all be furled at last.

The Children's Corner.

HOW A LITTLE BOY WAS KEPT FROM FREEZING.

ONE winter, more than a hundred years ago, it was so cold, so very cold, that many persons were frozen to death. In a city in the north of France a poor little Savoyard named Francois, who loved and feared God, was nearly dying from cold and hunger. Being without shelter, he resolved to enter the hut of a tame bear, kept by the city for the king. This bear, who was called Masco, took Francois gently between his paws, pressing closely against him to warm him. So the little Savoyard lived, going out to clean shoes in the day-time, and returning in the evening to share the hut and supper of the bear.

Some one, discovering the child between the paws of the animal, and fearing that he might be hurt, tried to take him away; but the bear, who already loved Francois, licked him kindly, and would not suffer him to be removed. This was told to the king, who sent for the little boy to be brought to the palace, where he was cared for and supported.

TO BE A CHRISTIAN..

To be a honey-bee means more than to crowd into some well-filled hive, and live from the hard toils of others. It means to take an empty hive, and fill it full, and then fill all the extra boxes which may be given. It means toil in the morning dew, the hot sun at noon, and the damps of evening, when the wind blows and the dust flies-toil while there is honey to be gathered and cells to be made or filled. To be a Christian does not mean a well-chosen church relation, with perquisites of wealth to keep us there; nor simply to restrain our hands from wicked deeds, and occasionally the exchanges of evil thoughts from our hearts. However much negative good there may be in the absence of evil, this is not Christian life. To be a farmer means more than to sit at a wellfilled board and eat and drink in the bosom of his family. There are seeds to be sown, and weeds to be pulled; there are vines to be trained and fruit to be gathered; there is toil, and dust, and sweat, between the table of the farmer and the garner of his grain. It is more to be a merchant than to receive bills of lading and compliments for fine stocks. There are sales to be made and bills to be paid;, there are hours of anxious toil between the purchase and the pay.

Christian life has its table of plenty, but it has its fields of trials too. Seeds must be sown and weeds pulled in this field; and Christian men, women, and children, and not angels, must do it. It would be just as reasonable for us to expect angels to do our field or kitchen work as to expect them to do our Christian work. We might as well contract our breathing to another, and expect to live by their effort, as to expect another to do our Christian work.

There are rich bills of lading coming in for the Christian, with every incoming toil of thought, and he is happy, and rich, and full. But there are taxes to be paid, exchanges to be made, and statements of stewardship rendered. A Christian life is one steady effort to do, and dare, and die, if need be, for the Master. Unfinished work lies at his door with every sitting down. burden is always on his heart. "I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how am I straitened till it be accomplished." Yet this burden is not painful to him who bears it. He lives with a sweet approval of a life of usefulness.

The

KILLING WHALES.

To be a Christian does not mean the farthest emigration from earth and its society, but a busy, pure life just where you are. It does not imply any change in you which should demand an immediate translation, but simply a change in human quality from bad to good, and does not contemplate your removal until the work is done where you are. To be a Christian does not imply that some one great act must redeem the past, and then pension us for ever. We may not have been capable of many great deeds before we were Christians, but a multiplied host of little ones. These little wicked ones made up our lives then, and may have limited our capabilities for greater deeds.

To be a Christian is to be Christ-like. There are busy scenes to be visited, where Christian life must not be bartered; there are hungry ones to be fed, who want to have the bread broken from our hands; there are mourning ones watching for the tear drop from our eye, and waiting for words of comfort from our lips; there are publicans to be mingled with and instructed in the way of life. Wicked, but not heartless-great, deep souls have they, but oh, how empty of the water of life. Thirsty ones by the wellheads, who must be taught that Samaria may be saved; fallen ones, condemned by others, standing by us, waiting words of kindness, and to have their faults written in the sands of memory, and not in glaring lines upon the rock. There may be a cross at the foot of some object somewhere for us, but if there be, there is a resurrection morning three days beyond, and there is a home and a mansion in that "sweet by and by." No weary toil, "for they rest from their labours" "over there." No grief nor sorrow, for

"Earth has no sorrow heaven cannot heal."

KILLING WHALES.

THE inventive genius of America has of late years been directed very largely toward improved modes of capturing fish, in which, not satisfied with the comparatively rude methods of hooks and lines, spears, and even nets, an effort is made to destroy them in a much more wholesale manner. Even the whale fishery, which for so long a time has been carried on by means of the harpoon, has, as is well known, lately been prosecuted by firing explosive substances into the body of the animal with shoulder-guns or with cannon, and thus disabling it very quickly. This method has been adopted by many whalers in the Greenland seas, and has been especially

KILLING WHALES.

applied of late to the taking of the large finback whales of the Norwegian coast. These animals have hitherto been but little disturbed by whalers, as, although of enormous size (from sixty to ninety feet), they possess comparatively little blubber, and are so active as to be rarely, if ever, successfully attacked by the harpoon. A recent writer in Land and Water recounts a late visit to the establishment of Herr Foyen, in the Varanger Fiord, where, from a small island, the fishery is prosecuted by means of two small steamers of about seventy tons each. The special apparatus employed consists of a harpoon, inclosing in its head half a pound of gunpowder, and with jointed or hinged barbs containing some percussion powder between them. When the whale is within gunshot, this harpoon, attached to the end of a long cord coiled around a drum, is fired into the animal from a cannon about the size of a four-pounder. As the flukes penetrate the side of the whale they are naturally brought together or pressed down toward the shaft, and in so doing ignite the percussion powder, which sets fire to the gunpowder, causing an explosion in the body of the animal that usually produces a mortal wound. The whale, of course, starts off under the stimulus of the pain, and the rope is carried out for a time, being uncoiled from the drum precisely like a fishing-line from the reel of a fishing-rod, the steamer following after so as to prevent any undue strain. If necessary, a second discharge takes place, which almost invariably produces death.

The steamer then tows the animal back to the station, where the blubber is taken off in a long strip by means of properly constructed apparatus, after which the flesh is removed in a somewhat similar manner, and finally the bones are separated and hauled out. It is the intention of the proprietor to prepare a fertilizer by drying the flesh and reducing it to powder, and a brisk trade has already sprung up in Germany in this article. The bones are likewise to be ground and utilized in various ways; so that the entire animal -blubber, flesh, and bones-will be put to economical purposes. The carcases of over thirty whales were heaped up on the island at the time of the visit referred to, forming a red hill of very considerable magnitude, visible at a great distance. The proprietor stated that the factory would not answer its expectations unless fifty whales could be taken every summer. It was thought, however, that there would be comparatively little difficulty in securing this number; and, in fact, as we learn from later advices, over sixty in all were captured during the season.