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THE PENNY POST BOX.
greater sacrifice? You can ask a favour of a neighbour; to do the same thing with God is prayer; and he greatly mistakes, who thinks that the best prayer is that clothed in the most fluent language.' The old man was affected, said he knew that it was so, and then gave an account of his feelings and practice
in this respect since the commencement of his christian course. The father's expression gave encouragement to hope that the suggestion would not be in vain. On the day following, before leaving, the son mentioned the scene of the previous evening to the minister of the place, who took an opportunity to add his influence to what had been said, and it proved effectual. The good man whose voice, though for forty years a professed christian and a father, had never been heard in prayer by his children, at the
age of threescore years and ten commenced the discharge of that duty in his family, and, so far as I know, never ceased until the infirmities of age rendered it impossible for him longer to perform it. His children, ten in number, have since professed the religion of Jesus Christ.'
The Penny Post Box.
I have lately been reading a collection of the last words of eminent persons, most of which are expressive of their ruling passion, strong even in death.
Keats, the poet.-"I am better; I feel as if the daisies were growing over me."
Haller, the physician, when feeling bis own pulse, “The artery ceasing to beat."
Napoleon muttered something about his being the “Head of the army.
Sir James Mackintosh.." Jesus Christ, Love, the same thing. Happy !"
Goethe, the philosopher.-"Let the light enter."
FACTS, HINTS, GEMS, AND POETRY.
Burkitt. Come, Lord Jesus !" George IV., as they lifted him up, " This is death." Quarles. Accept, Lord, my heart and soul.” Oliver Cromwell. — “I am safe." James, Earl of Derby.—“Let the whole earth be filled with his glory!" Heylyn.-"I
God and Saviour." Hooker.—“My days are passed as a shadow." Mozart the musician.—“Let me hear those notes again." Sir Philip Sydney.—“In me behold the end of this world's vanities." An aged Minister.—“Christ is with me. Now Death strike !" John Wesley.—“The best of all is, God is with us."
I could have given many more; but these perhaps will suffice at present.
Hints, Gems, and poetry.
8. There was very little preaching
of Christ's holy gospel; and no MisTHE FORMER DAYS.
sionary or Bible Societies. WERE they better than these? Go 9. The poor were in a miserable back for about one hundred years, and plight; and there were very few asy. see and judge for yourselves.
lums for orphans or idiots. Hospitals 1. The public roads were almost and Infirmaries were very scarce. impassable in winter, and infested by
10. Books and songs of an indecent foot-pads and horse-robbers.
character were common; Bibles and 2. The streets of only a few towns
good books were both scarce and were lighted, very badly, by oil-lamps.
Were those days better than these? Villages were not lighted at all. 3. Our vast manufactures of cotton,
Wints. silk, and wool, had scarcely commenced.
PROPER WORDS, woven together in 4. Our enormous mineral treasures of coal and iron were almost undis- proper places, form the most suitable
dress in which proper thoughts should turbed.
appear. 5. There were no railroads, electric
TRUTH CANNOT BE PUT OUT. It telegraphs, penny post, or penny news
passes from mind to mind with repapers; and no gas, or self-igniting newed light, shining with increasing matches.
brightness as it advances. 6. Free trade was not dreamed of,
TIME IS AN ISTHMUS, a narrow neck and sanitary regulations were almost of land between the two boundless entirely neglected.
oceans of Eternity-past and to come. 7. The villages were generally with. VANITY.-He or she who has the out schools for poor children. There most of this silly folly, has the least of were no sabbath schools.
FACTS, HINTS, GEMS, AND POETRY.
THERE IS NO Man, however humble WERE GOD TO MAKE me the suhis position, whose example has no preme ruler of the earth, and place all influence for good or evil.
its riches and honours at my disposal, SOME PEOPLE spend more time in were he then to withhold his love trying to conceal their faults than from me, I should be a poor miserable they do in trying to correct them. restless and blighted thing! But which after all would be the ON THE OTHER HAND, were I poorer easier task ?
than the poorest, and weaker than the FEAR IS A HEAVY Tax levied on the weakest, so long as I feel that God guilty conscience of one who knows loves me and I love him, I shall be that he has done wrong.
richer than the richest and stronger FALSE FRIENDSHIP, like our own than the strongest. shadow, keeps close to us in sun- WE ONLY LIVE so long as we live shine, but vanishes when clouds pass in the love of God. Life without love
is only a living death. But death will WE OFTEN SUFFER MORE expec- usher the christian into a new life of tation of trouble than we do when it love for ever! really comes. THE VEIL which covers the face of
Poetic Selections. the future from our view is hung
“BLESSED ARE THE DEAD." there by the hand of & Merciful Providence.
I HEARD a voice which said,
“How blessed are the dead Gems.
Who rest in Jesus, all their sorrows o'er! NEVER ENTERTAIN hard thoughts Their feet have touched the strand of God; for if you think that he Of the immortal land, would have pleasure in your ruin, you And with the angel band will damp out all love to him in your They soar and sing, and sing for evermore." own soul. YOU NEVER
And then I heard a cry
Of mortal agony,
Where one, whose narrow life highest, deeper than the deepest,
Had been with sorrow rife, wider than the widest, and more vast
Forsook the mortal strife, than eternity.
And laid in peaceful rest her weary head. THE MORE WE LOVE GOD the more we shall desire to love Him; our “O cease your grief,” I said, appetite will grow by what it feeds "For why should tears be shed, upon; but we shall never be fully Because our Father calls an exile home ? satisfied until we wake up in his Can ye not be at rest likeness.
When she you love is blest, WHAT A HAPPY LIFE would ours be
Gathered to Jesus' breast, if we could love our Saviour as much No more to suffer, and no more to roam ? as we would; could we be like Him,
O blind and selfish love, all love and always loving.
Which asks that those above AS THE BUSY BEE dives into the Might share again our mortal toil and strife; flower to suck out its sweetness, and Far better might we say, as the babe in its mother's arms draws
That blessed is the day out the sweet food from her breast, Which called them hence away, so should we desire to feed on the And op'ed to them the gates of endless life!" sweetness of the love of God.
V. G. R.
THE CHILDREN'S CORNER.
The Children's Corner.
BY THE FATHER OF TWO BELOVED CHILDREN.
OUR DEPARTED ONES.
TWELVE months and more have passed | Well we remember what they thought away
In view of all their sin; Since our dear children died How they rejoiced when they were No: reached a world of endless day,
brought And death itself defied.
To feel sweet peace within. Well we remember every smile Well we remember their concern That lighted up the face
That we should meet above; When pain allay'd, they talked awhile That each should taste, and see, and Of meroy, truth, and grace.
learn Well we remember what they said
The Saviour's wondrous love. With interrupted breath;
Well we remember that sweet calm To whom they looked, to whom they Which death could not destroy ; fied,
It was, and is, a healing balm And triumph'd over death.
To turn our grief to joy. Well we remember how they prayed, Prepare us, Lord, to meet in heaven, And how they valued prayer;
And never part again, On whom alone their trust was stayed, The old, the young, the two, the seven,
On whom they cast their care. Amen, Amen, Amen!
“ I'M GOING HOME."
Nor angry passions rise,
And every inmate wise ; Where love is ever present, And pleasure never dies.
A HOME Where every joy is holy,
And every face is bright; Where saints are full of glory,
And clothed in spotless white.
Where sin can never come;
Like war, and want, and woe ;
That last of foes below.
In strains before unknown
In their eternal home!
THE PURITAN PREACHER.
The hateful custom of calling nicknames cannot be too severely condemned. No inan who wishes to maintain a character for fair dealing will resort to such mean and dastardly conduct; only those whose cowardice is as great as their malice will take up such a dirty weapon when all other means of doing mischief have failed.
We have reasons for hoping that all well-meaning people are getting more and more ashamed of this hateful custom. But it is not dead yet, neither do we expect it will die until men and women are brought to regard " Do unto athers as ye would they should do unto you."
Haters of all real religion have always been the most ready to do this dirty work for their master the devil. Two hundred years ago in England all those pious men who desired to live in the fear and love of God were nicknamed puritans, as one hundred years ago they were nicknamed methodists.
But they were noble men, those puritans. Lord Macaulay said, “ The Puritans were perhaps the most remarkable body of men which the world ever produced.” But they were only one body in serving God, for they were of various denominations. Their numerous writings have been esteemed, and perhaps ever will be, as next in value to the word of God itself. But it is not of a puritan writer we wish to tell you; it is of a puritan preacher.
SAMUEL ANNESLEY was born in Warwickshire in 1620. His pious grandmother, who died a few days before he was born, desired his mother, if her child should be a boy, to call him Samuel, for said she, “I have asked him of the Lord.” He was the only son of his mother, and his father dying when he was four years old, she was careful to bring up the boy Samuel in the knowledge of religion.
While yet young he knew that his parents had devoted him to God for the work of the ministry, and his own desires were in that direction. He was fonder of reading than playing, especially the Bible, of which he always read twenty chapters every day, and this same plan he pursued to the end of his long life. Suffering for religion was common in those evil days in England, and from a child he thought he should have to suffer and perhaps die for it.
He was sent to college, where he made great progress. In