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preserving England in peace and prosperity; for so long as we have a good brave Navy, our enemies will never dare to try to invade us, and take our country. I should not at all wonder, if before very long, there are some great wars in the world, and then if God fights for us and our ships, we may be saved much adversity and misery. It is a sad thing that there is any fighting at all.
But if wicked people try to injure us, we are quite right in being ready to defend ourselves. And the best way of preventing fighting is to be well prepared for it. Just as a wise man puts bolts and bars on his house, and provides himself with arms, as the best way to prevent robbers from coming and doing murder and bloodshed. One of these days, you know, and there will be no more war. O, may that happy day soon come!
MIND THE DOOR. Did you ever observe how strong a street door is? How thick the wood is? how heavy the chain is ? what large bolts it has ! and what a lock ? If there were nothing of value in the house, or no thieves outside, this would not be needed; but as there are precious things within, and bad men without, there is need that the door be strong, and we must mind the door.
We have a house. Our heart and mind is that house. Bad things are for ever trying to come in and go out of our mind and heart. I will describe some of these bad things to you.
Who is that at the door? Ah, I know him; it is Anger. What a frown there is on his face! How his lips quiver! How fierce he looks! I will hold the door, and not let him in, or he will do me harm, and perhaps some one else.
Who is that? It is Pride. How haughty he seems! He looks down on everything as if were too mean for his notice. Ah, wicked Pride! I will hold the door fast, and try to keep him out.
Here is some one else. I am sure, from his sour look, his name is IIl-Temper. It will never do to let him in ; for if he can only sit down in the house, he makes every one unhappy, and it will be hard to get him out again. No, sir, we shall not let you in, so you may go away.
Who is this? It must be Vanity, with his flaunting strut and gay clothes. He is never so well pleased as when he has a fine dress to wear, and is admired. You will not come in, my fine fellow; we have too much to do to attend to such folks as you. Mind the door.
Here comes a stranger. By his sleepy look and slow pace, I think I know him. It is Sloth. He would like nothing better than to live in my house, sleep or yawn the hours away, and bring me to rags and ruin. No, no, you idle drone; work is pleasure, and I have much to do. Go away, you shall not come in.
But who is this? What a sweet smile, what a kind face! She looks like an angel. It is Love. How happy she will make us if we ask her in! Come in; we must open the
door for you.
Others are coming. Good and bad are crowding up. Oh! if men kept the door of their heart, bad thoughts and bad words would not come in and go out as they do. Welcome to all things good, war with all things bad. We must mark well who comes in; we must be watchful and in earnest. Keep the guard! Mind the door! Mind the door! “Keep thy heart with all diligence: for out of it are the issues of life.”
And would you know how to keep it? Let Jesus in and He will give you daily and hourly of His Spirit. “Behold,” He says, “ I stand at the door and knock; if any man
hear My voice, and open the door, I will come in to him and will sup with him, and he with me.”
ANECDOTES OF TWO IRISH BOYS. I heard the other day two anecdotes of two little Irish boys, which I am sure will interest the readers of the CHILDREN'S - FRIEND, and therefore I must relate them. They both lived in the west of Ireland, where the great work of conversion is going on, where thousands of ignorant and wicked Roman Catholics are becoming enlightened and good Protestants.
The name of one of the little boys was William Higgin. He was very ill, and lay dying. He was in a wretched, miserable, little cabin ;* and his mother (a Roman Catholic) stood over him, weeping, and in great trouble. At last, when she could do no more for him, she said, “
Billy, I'll go and fetch the priest; he must finish you
“Oh, mother,” cried the little fellow, “ don't go for the priest! I don't want him. I've got Jesus, and He is all I want. He has done everything for me; and (he added), dear mother, I want Him to do everything for you.”
The other little boy was in a like case. He was also in a poor dirty cabin, lying on his bed, at the point of death. He was in a very dirty state ; and his poor, ignorant,
* A cabin in Ireland is a low, small, mud cottage,
Popish mother came up to him with a can of water. “What are you going to do?” asked the boy. Och, honey,” said she, “sure, and arn't I going to wash you? Do you think I m letting you go to heaven such à filthy dirty figure?” “Oh, mother!” replied the boy, " don't say so. What's the use of washing my body? That will be dirty enough soon in the earth. It is my soul that must be washed; and I hope that is clean, for I've asked Jesus to wash and clean it in His precious blood.”
Now, were not these nice answers of these poor little boys ?
Oh, dear reader, may you be as happy and as safe on your deathbed as these poor
little fellows were! But perhaps
“ Where did they learn all this truth, which their poor ignorant mothers did not know?” They learnt it at schoolmat the school which the Irish Church Missions have built on purpose to bring such children from the ignorance of Popery, to know Jesus and heaven. So you learn here two things : first, what a great deal of good these Irish schools do; and secondly, how you ought to feel when you come to die.
THE SHERIFF OF LONDON; OR, THE YOUTH WHO WOULD NOT BEG. ABOUT thirty years ago, a poor half-starved looking youth entered a large shop in street, not many yards from the Bank of England, and asked for employment. The