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and of departure was drawing on. Suddenly and severely it came; its near approach was unexpected, its progress rapid; for three days did the king of terrors wrestle with its victim. Fever seized upon the delicate lungs of the beloved boy. Medical aid was called; all that affection could suggest and perform was done; solemn and fervent prayers ascended at his bedside from almost broken hearts; but all was in vain: the face grew paler, but the eyes still looked lively and bright, and upwards flew his hallowed spirit, for the Messenger of the Covenant had come. The noble and thoughtful child is gone to his rest.

THE TOLL-GATE.

WE are all on a journey. The world through which we are passing is in some respects like a turnpike, all along which Vice and Folly have erected tollgates, for the accommodation of those who choose to call as they go; and there are very few of all the host of travellers who do not occasionally stop a little at some one or another of them, and consequently pay more or less to the toll-gatherers. Pay more or less, I say, because there is a great variety, as well in the amount as in the kind of toll exacted at these different stoppingplaces.

his mother wishing him many happy | fied by the idea. But the hour of trial returns of the day, he answered, "I wish them to you, mamma; but, thank God, I shall not be alive next newyear's day." His mother said, "Do not make me so low-spirited. Why do you say that, Freddy?" He replied, "It will be so, and you will see. I am sure of it." Speaking of his grandmother, who died in November last, he wished to be informed in what way the soul was conveyed to the other world? By angels," was the reply. That he thought was a satisfactory and comfortable idea; and as his mother was weeping at the recollection of her recent loss, (he supposing his grandmother had been carried to her home above in that way,) added, "that it was useless to fret so much, unless she wanted to get her out of heaven." inquired of his mother, if she would lament as much when he was taken away as she did for poor grandmamma? She replied, she should cry very much when that should happen. Well," he answered, "I shall be the next; the eldest has gone, and the next will be the youngest. But, mamma, don't cry for me; it will be in vain; and I shall be in heaven, which the Bible says is far better than this world." One day he was sowing a few seeds in his little garden. Whilst busily engaged in this occupation, he observed, thoughtfully, to his mother, who was watching him, "Mamma, the seeds seem to be dead when they are put into the ground, but they spring up into flowers. We are like them: we are buried in the dust, but shall rise up and live again." Last week, he begged his sister to sing with him, Pleasure offers a very smooth, de"Children of Jerusalem." They imme-lightful road in the outset. She tempts diately joined their youthful voices, the traveller with many fair promises, and cheerfully chaunted that beautiful and wins thousands; but she takes hymn; but when they repeated the without mercy; like an artful robber, chorus, "Loud hosannahs to our King," she allures till she gets her victim in Freddy's voice sounded higher and her power, and then strips him of louder! and as they again repeated, health and money, and turns him off, "Loud hosannahs," his tones became a miserable object, into the very worst so loud, so thrilling, that his very soul and most rugged road of life. seemed bursting from his lips. It was extremely affecting to hear that strain so energetically uttered by a child. He ceased his heart was apparently full of the subject. "That is what they do in heaven," he added, and was grati

Pride and Fashion take heavy tolls of the purse; many a man has become a beggar by paying at their gates; the ordinary rates they charge are heavy, and the road that way is none of the best.

Intemperance plays the part of a sturdy villain. He is the very worst toll-gatherer on the road; for he not only gets from his customers their money and health, but he robs them of their very brains. The men you meet

in the road ragged, and ruined in fame | forward to many years of enjoyment in and fortune, are his visiters. his new and elegant house.

And so I might go on enumerating many others who gather toll of the unwary. Accidents sometimes happen, it is true, along the road; but those who do not get through at least tolerably well, you may be sure have been stopping by the way at some of those places. The plain common-sense men, who travel straight forward, get through the journey without much difficulty.

This being the state of things, it becomes every one, in the outset, if he intends to make a comfortable journey, to take care what kind of company he gets in with. We are all apt to do a good deal as our companions do-stop where they stop, and pay toll where they pay. Ten chances to one, then, but our choice in this particular decides our fate.

Having paid due regard to a prudent choice of companions, the next important thing is, closely to observe how others manage; to mark the good or evil that is produced by every course of life-see how those who do well manage, and trace the cause of evil to its origin in conduct. Thus you will make yourself master of the information most necessary to regulate your own conduct. There is no difficulty in working things right if you know how; by those means you learn.

Be careful of your habits. These make the man; and they require long and careful culture ere they grow to be a second nature. Good habits I speak of. Bad ones are more easily acquired; they are the spontaneous weeds, that flourish rapidly and rankly, without

care or culture.

THE TWO HOUSES.

I ONCE knew a rich man, who determined to have a very large and beautiful house built for himself. He bought a lot of ground in a beautiful part of the city, and took great pains to have the house built in the best manner. There were many spacious rooms and wide halls. It was planned so as to be warm in winter, and cool in summer.

No expense was spared to have it as comfortable and complete a dwelling as could be made. No doubt he looked

At the same time that this large house was preparing for himself and his family, he had another built for them. And there was a great difference between the two; for the second house had but one small room for the whole family, and that room was mostly under-ground. It had, indeed, strong walls, and was built of marble; but it had no windows, and but one small door, and that was made of iron. What a contrast there was between the wide and lofty mansion, so bright and handsome, and the low building under the willow-tree, which one would scarcely notice! Yet these two houses were built for the same people. The one was for the living family, the other for the dead; for the low house under the tree is the vault into which their bodies are to be placed, as one after another shall be called away from life.

The vault was soon finished, and it was ready long before the large house; and into which of them do you think the rich owner himself went first to take up his abode? Strange as it may seem, he was ready for the vault before the fine dwelling was ready for him; and many months before the spacious rooms of the new house were fit to be inhabited, its builder was laid in the narrow, dark, and cold apartment, which he will not leave until the earth shall give up its dead at the last day.

This is a fact which ought to fix the attention of the young. To you everything in life seems bright and happy, and promising great enjoyment; and you forget its end, or imagine it is too far off to be thought of. The house of the living is so large and beautiful that it hides from our sight the house of the dead. But remember that, like the man I have been telling you of, you may have to lie down in the silent grave before you have entered upon the pleasures of life which you are expecting. If you will be wise, you will live and act in such a manner as to be prepared both for life and death-to enjoy the one, and not to fear the other. The Saviour has declared, "Whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." This is true in the most important sense possible.

The true believer, whose sins are pardoned, and who is accepted in Christ, has the promise of a house which is not made with hands, but is eternal; not in this perishing world, but in the heavens. And the passage from this life to that is not to die, as the world speaks of death; it is to fall asleep on earth, and awake with God.

A KIND-HEARTED CHILD. THERE is near our residence an old pump, a kind of town pump, which every one may use, and whose wet and bespattered base speaks plainer than sign-boards could do, of water for man and horse and a very excellent pump it is, too; never out of order, easily worked, and furnishing the purest, clearest, coolest water in the world. Many a thirsty school-boy and omnibus driver has refreshed himself at that pump; the hackmen and draymen stop there; and the old iron ladle that hangs by its side has been pressed by many a sweet and pretty lip. It is no unusual thing, just after school hours, to see some little fellow, with his satchel over his shoulder, working away at the handle for ten minutes at a time, till all who have gathered round it have been supplied with drink; but yesterday the old pump was honoured as though an angel had blessed it. Α rosy-cheeked girl, half hid in a flood of glorious curls, came bouncing by, driving her hoop, as the old, decrepid apple woman, whom everybody knows, and whom no one passes without giving her a penny, was endeavouring to obtain a drink. She had set down her basket, but bent nearly double by the weight of her years and sorrows, was still compelled to lean upon her staff. The little Hebe saw the difficulty, and was in an instant at the handle. Holding the ladle until it was filled, she carried it gently to the lip of the old lady, then filled it again, while the warm, grateful thanks of the poor woman called the crimson to her cheek, which, as she hurried away, was deepened by the consciousness that she was observed. We shall ever remember

that girl, and the joyous satisfaction with which she performed a good and kind action to the aged. The scene, and the hearty thanks of the old lady, called forcibly to mind, and not altogether inappropriately, the beautiful thought in Talfourd's tragedy of Ion: "It is a little thing

To give a cup of water, yet its draught
Of cool refreshment, drain'd by fever'd lips,
May send a shock of pleasure to the soul
More exquisite than when nectarious juice
Renews the life of joy in happiest hours."

BE KIND.

Be kind to thy father-for when thou wert young,

Who loved thee so fondly as he? He caught the first accents that fell from thy tongue,

And join'd in thy innocent glee. Be kind to thy father-for now he is old, His locks intermingled with gray; His footsteps are feeble, once fearless and bold;

Thy father is passing away.

Be kind to thy mother-for, lo! on her brow

May traces of sorrow be seen; Oh! well may'st thou cherish and comfort her now,

For loving and kind hath she been. Remember thy mother-for thee will she

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lone way,

E'en to the dark valley of death.

Be kind to thy brother-his heart will have dearth,

If the smile of thy love be withdrawn; The flowers of feeling will fade at their birth,

If the dew of affection be gone. Be kind to thy brother-wherever you are The love of a brother shall be An ornament purer and richer by far

Than pearis from the depths of the sea. Be kind to thy sister-not many may know The depths of true sisterly love; The wealth of the ocean lies fathoms below

The surface that sparkles above. Thy kindness shall bring to thee many

sweet hours,

And blessings thy pathway to crown; Affection shall weave thee a garland of

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Tyler and Reed. Printers. Bolt-court. Fleet-street.

THE

CHRISTIAN'S PENNY MAGAZINE,

AND

Friend of the People :

ISSUED BY

THE CONGREGATIONAL UNION OF ENGLAND AND WALES.

"I am a true labourer: I earn that I eat; get that I wear; owe no man hate; envy no man's happiness."

THIS PUBLICATION IS DESIGNED TO BE THE FORERUNNER OF THE "CHRISTIAN WITNESS."

PROFITS DEVOTED TO AGED MINISTERS.

VOLUME IV.

LONDON:

JOHN SNOW, PATERNOSTER ROW.

1849.

WILLIAM TYLER,

PRINTER,

BOLT COURT, FLEET-STREET.

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