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FACTS, HINTS, GEMS, AND POETRY.

Facts, Hints, Gems, and Poetry.

Facts.

RAILWAYS IN INDIA.

OVER this vast country railways are extending rapidly. About 3,500 miles have been laid down, and 1,500 more are contemplated, and in a few years all will be in working order. These, except one hundred and twenty-four miles of double, are all single lines, with numerous shunting places for the carriages to pass each other, as in America. In laying down these lines, obstacles such as are unknown in England have to be overcome. The storms and floods often do much injury, and interrupt progress and communication, and English engineers suffer much from the heat of the climate. They have also another labour to perform not required in England-there are no roads to the stations, and they have to make them, or heavy goods cannot be brought to the lines. These extensive works have already cost several millions of money, and millions more will be required. The money is raised both in India and England, the government engaging that subscribers shall be paid not less than a certain amount of interest. One other difficulty is the obtaining of proper fuel for the engines. There are coal mines in certain districts, but these will have to be worked, and lines laid down to them by which coal may be conveyed to the stations. But it is confidently expected that Indian railways will ultimately pay well.

Telegraphs have also been fixed over thousands of miles, and communication by land and water with England is now in partial operation and will soon be completed.

India, by way of Egypt, may now be reached in a few weeks. What a change since it took six months by way of the Cape.

Hints.

SOME WRITERS are sad rogues; they steal the fruit of other men's brains, and then throw away the basket to conceal the theft.

KNOWLEDGE in the mind is like treasure in a casket, which ought only to be opened with the key of discretion turned by the hand of wisdom.

MEN'S THOUGHTS are sometimes bitter; but let them, like sea water, be drawn up to heaven, and they become sweet, and descend like gentle rain upon all around them.

SOME MEN'S RICHES are like a belt full of gold round a drowning man, who had better cast it off and seize that wooden plank that is floating past him.

THERE ARE MEN who are only counterfeits. The image and superscription may be like genuine coin; but ring them, and you will find they are not sterling gold.

MISFORTUNES are not always evils. We should be content to take them as men do bitters, to restore a healthy tone to the stomach of the mind, which often gets out of order by two much indulgence.

WE CALL THOSE POOR who have no money-bags; but poorer far are they who have no mind-bags. Treasures of mind are richer than treasures of money; they are always at hand, and no thief can steal them.

FASHION IS A TYRANT; and has a kingdom of its own, in which it makes stupid laws for walking, talking, eating, drinking, dressing, in shorteverything! But its subjects are all slaves.

OF ALL THE Books in the world the Bible is the only one of which we never tire, but relish it more, and grow wiser and better the more we use it.

Gems.

FACTS, HINTS, GEMS, AND POETRY.

SUN, MOON, AND STARS, might be regarded as only so many lanterns hung out of heaven to light us through the dark streets of this world, inviting us to come and see the glory within.

THAT BLIND BOY loves his own father though he has never seen him. We have not seen our Father in heaven, but we have better evidence of his love to us than that boy can have of his father's love.

WHEN WE THINK OF CHRIST'S LOVE in coming, and suffering, and dying, and rising, and reigning in heaven for us, we may feel sure that he will never harm us, but save us if we ask him. DAVID LAMENTED JONATHAN, whose love to him, he said, "was wonderful, passing the love of woman.' But the

love of Christ was greater than the love of all the wives and mothers in the world, and all the angels in heaven united. It passeth knowledge.

THE WONDERFUL LOVE OF CHRIST, which passeth knowledge, is only known by us so far as we feel it, and are able to say, "He loved me, and gave himself for me."

THE GLORY OF THE GOSPEL OF CHRIST is, that its blessings are freely offered to every one of us, and it is no presumption in us to come and humbly claim them as our own.

"WHOSOEVER WILL MAY COME." This invitation includes you, my reader. Whoever would have you doubt this is of the devil, who began his hellish work of lying in this way, and will never give it up.

BELIEF OR UNBELIEF of the truth of God in his word, forms the great broad mark of distinction between the children of God and the children of the devil. Reader! which of these marks do you now bear?

LOOK AT THAT MAN who is "diligent in business, serving the Lord." He is an every day preacher of righteousness, and his life is a sermon that will secure attention and regard.

Poetic Selections.

MY SHEPHERD,

THE LORD is my Shepherd,
No want shall I know:
He leadeth me down

Where the still waters flow.

Through lovely green pastures;
And there I recline
And think of his mercies
Which ever are mine.
He restoreth my soul

To the joys of his love,
And over my pathway

Sheds light from above. Though I walk through the vale Of the shadow of death,

I will trust and will praise Him
With my latest breath.

For then my Good Shepherd,
In mercy and love,
Will provide me a home
In his own house above.

NO NIGHT THERE.
HERE there is darkness,
Sadness and gloom,
Sorrow and sighing,

Death and the tomb.
There ever shineth
Day without night,
Unfolding new glories,
Bright and more bright.
O what a change

From this night of sin!
How my soul longeth
That day to begin!
Day ever-lasting,

The LAMB is its light;
Glory enduring,

Will never know night.

Joyfully active,

Labour is rest;
Holiness ever

Filling each breast;
Voices harmonious,
Songs ever new,
Giving HIM worship
To whom it is due.
And shall I behold Him,
And fall at his feet,
And will he me welcome,

And lovingly greet?
And shall I there praise Him
For ever and aye?-
How my heart boundeth

At thought of that day!

THE CHILDREN'S CORNER.

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The Children's Corner.

TO BOYS.

I MEAN such of you as are getting old enough to work. I expect you have been at school, and have learned to know something, but now, like all the rest of us, you must begin to do something. Beside you are wanted." In a shop window you may often see a paper stuck up with "Boys Wanted" written on it. Indeed boys always were and always will be wanted. We cannot well get on without them. But they must be of the right sort; for there are two sorts of boys—one sort is "wanted," and the other "not wanted." That any boy who reads this may know whether he is wanted or not, I will describe both sorts.

THE BOYS NOT WANTED are such as go about their work in an awkward clumsy manner, or creep as if half asleep, or stop to play when sent on an errand, or are sulky or saucy when told their faults, or are always making mistakes through want of attention-such boys as these are only in the road; they are not wanted.

The BOYS WANTED are such as are willing to learn how to do their work well and quickly, and who move about it as if they were wide awake; who come to their work in good time, clean and tidy, and speak in a cheerful and respectful manner to others, never flinch from doing their part, working with a will while they do work, and leaving all play until working hours are over.

I have had scores of boys, of both sorts, and can soon find out to which sort one belongs. The skulks, who seem only able to shun their work, I start as soon as I can; but am always glad to keep the willing workers. They are the lads for me! I always want them, and I am pleased to know that I have had a good many of them, some of whom, who were poor boys when they came to me, are now richer than I am. The way they got on was by taking my advice when I said, as I did to all of them

DO YOUR WORK RIGHT FIRST,

THEN DO IT AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN;
FOR SO YOU WILL MAKE YOURSELF

WANTED, AND GET BETTER WAGES.

WINTER-COMING AND GOING.

POETIC FANCY has been wont to picture Winter as an old man, whose hair is white with age, from whose long beard icicles are hanging, and who, girding his warm garments tighter around him that he may ward off the falling snow, moves slowly and carefully along over the slippery ice-path.

is.

But without the aid of poetic fancy we know what winter really Before Autumn has finished its work of stripping the trees of their leaves, we know that Winter is coming by the shortening days and the darkened skies.

There are who regard the approach of winter with gloomy feelings. They would rather have clear skies and warm sunshine all the year round. True, it always brings more or less of inconvenience or suffering, especially to the poor. But it has its uses, and on reflection we shall find that as a season of rest in the natural world it is not only necessary, but often forms an agreeable variety.

A clever American orator has thus described some of its uses and advantages:

"What were your thoughts when you waked this morning, and looked forth into the drifting snow, and found the air grey, cold, and threatening, and the wreaths already dimly flitting round the dwelling? Did you shrink from the thought of longer cold and tenacious winter? Did you consider the hindrance or inconvenience of the storm to your going forth to-day? Or did you think of the poor? These things were not unwise nor improper; but were they all the thoughts you had? Is there nothing in those experiences that ever suggests God; the sublimity of his power; the mysteriousness in which by his very vastness he must be wrapped to those that are finite in their comprehension? Did you ever search out how much is said in the Bible about ice, and snow, and hail, and cold, and wintry storms? Did you ever make it one of the ways of rendering a winter sabbath-day pleasant to your children, to sit down with them, and set their nimble fingers and memories to work to cull from the Word of God, and particularly from the Old Testament, allusions to these things? Did you ever make the hour short to them by gathering together all the use that the Bible has made of this season of the

WINTER-COMING AND GOING.

year? You will be surprised yourselves to see how much there is in it, and how exquisitely beautiful a part it is.

While you are doing that you may be led to extend your investigation. And if you do, you will find that the Old Testament furnishes the most complete and sublime manual of natural religion yet known. The Old Testament may be compared to Esau's garments. It smells of the fields all the way through. It is the simplest of books; and it leads back our thoughts to the facts of created nature in a way that no other religious book does that I know of.

These Old Testament scriptures are alone, absolutely, in ancient literature, in regard to the natural world. The Greek literature has almost nothing of nature in it. And that which

was true of the Greek literature was almost as true of the Roman; for, although in Roman literature there were treatises that touched on agriculture, yet the Latin tongue leaves the great natural world almost untouched and unthought of. And it is one of the signs of coming health, that Cowper and the writers who followed him have become so largely imbued with the moral aspects and uses of nature. But the Old Testament, which still is our model, stood up ages and ages ago, and proclaimed, 'The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth its handywork.' There is not its like anywhere.

Did you ever consider what were some of the elements of beauty in the seasons, and particularly in winter? The whole year is but the four movements of one grand symphony. Nor can I regard the solemn preparations for winter without feelings for which I have no name, and which cannot fashion themselves into any form of expression. The falling of the leaves; the silence of the birds, that have been singing all summer long, as now they gather themselves together in groups, covering the fences and filling the orchards, in dumb fellowship; the retreat of light, shortening the day; the colder winds beginning to come by whirls, modulated to melancholy in all their sounds; the hints of frost; the quick yielding of tender things that do not know how to make battle for their life, but that, in their weakness and sweetness, fold themselves to death at the first summons, as if it were easier to die than to live; and then the stout fight made by other things-by the glorious old evergreen tree, which is the only thing that is able to hold out and carry green banners through the whole year-did you ever watch these

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