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that due to doctors or teachers, whose word the people may receive or reject as they please? What is the practical value of our sacraments, though of unquestionable validity, or of creeds, &c.,

liturgy and rites, undeniably catholic and scriptural, if their healthful action and influence are destroyed by a mass of obtrusive and notorious unrealities ? Feast of All Saints, 1848. W. C.


JUBILEE OF THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY, 1848. THE following Stanzas were composed by JAMES MONTGOMERY, Esq., in commemoration of this event, and were presented by him to the Jubilee Meeting, held in Queen-street Chapel, Sheffield, on Monday, November 13th, 1848:


THE sunbeams, infinitely small,
In numbers numberless,
Reveal, pervade, illumine all
Nature's void wilderness.

But, meeting worlds upon their way,
Wrapt in primeval night,
In language without sound, they say
To each," God sends you light!”

Anon, with beauty, life, and love,

Those wandering planets glow,
And shine themselves, as stars above,
On gazers from below.

Oh! could the first Archangel's eye,
In everlasting space,
Through all the mazes of the sky,
A single sunbeam trace;

He might behold that lonely one
Its destiny fulfil,

As punctual as the parent-sun
Performs its Maker's will.


The Sun of Righteousness, with rays
Of uncreated light,
His power and glory thus displays
Through Nature's darkest night.

The night of guilt, remorse, despair,
In which transgressors roam,
Yet, self-bewilder'd everywhere,
Never draw nearer home.

On such, with healing in his wings,
Along their downward path,

Guidance and help his rising brings,
And warns to flee from wrath.

Rays from that Sun of Righteousness
Our humble missiles dart;
Mighty at once to wound and bless,
To break and bind the heart.

Tracts, those swift messengers of peace
For men with God at strife,
To Satan's slaves proclaim release,

To Death's condemn'd ones life!

Not with the excellence of speech,
But by the Spirit of Truth,
The doctrines of the Cross they preach
To manhood, age, and youth.

They flash the terrors of the Lord,
To make the scorner fear;
But speak the Gospel's sweetest word
In the poor sinner's ear.

Oh! could the first Archangel's sight
The least of these pursue,
He might record, in its brief flight
Each had a work to do:

A work of grace, a work of power;
But what that was below,
Time's last, Eternity's first hour

To Heaven and Earth will show.

Oh ye who send these heralds forth,
By millions bid them fly,

From east to west, from south to north,
As sunbeams fill the sky.

The Fragment Basket.

CHRIST'S AGONY OUR VICTORY. Он, what a melting consideration is this! that out of Christ's agony comes our victory; out of his condemnation our justification; out of his pain our ease; out of his stripes our healing; out of his gall and vinegar our honey; out of his curse our blessing; out of his crown of thorns our crown of glory; out of his death our life; if he could not be released, it was that we might. If Pilate gave sentence against him, it was that the great God might never give sentence against us. If he yielded that it should be with Christ as they required, it was that it might be with our souls as well as we can desire.

Little sins are the natural sins of man's life; that do of themselves tend hellward, and are of themselves enough to carry the soul down silently and calmly to destruction; but when greater and grosser sins join with them, they make a violent tide, that hurries the soul away with a more swift and rampant motion down to hell.-Hopkins.

CONFIDE IN YOUR MOTHER. To the daughter we should say, that no favourite can love you with an affection so disinterested as your mother. Deceive her, and "your feet will slide in due time." How many thoughtless daughters receive addresses against the wish of their parents, receive them clandestinely, give their hand in marriage, and thus dig the grave of their earthly happiness. He who would persuade you to deceive your parents, proves himself, in that very deed, unworthy of your confidence. If you wed him, you will speedily realize what you have lost. You will find you have exchanged a sympathizing friend, and an able, judicious counsellor, for a selfish, unfeeling companion, ever seeking his own accommodation and his own pleasure-neglecting you in health, and deserting you when sick. Who has not read the reward of deserted parents in the pale and melancholy features of the undutiful daughter?

The Children's Gallery.

THE NAUGHTY PRINCE: A LES- | lesson, neither should he go into any


HER MAJESTY QUEEN VICTORIA has a little son who is called Prince of Wales, and if he outlives his Mother, he will one day be King of Great Britain and Ireland. This little Prince has just such a heart as all other boys, and the other day he showed his bad temper in a very naughty way; but Miss Hillyard, his governess, did her duty by correcting him, and his father very properly supported the authority of the governess.

That lady, seeing the Prince of Wales inattentive to his studies, said, "Your Royal Highness is not minding your business; will you be pleased to look at your book, and learn

your lesson ?" His Royal Highness replied that he should not. "Then," said the governess, "I shall put you in the corner." His Royal Highness again said that he should not learn his

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corner, for he was the Prince of Wales; and, as if to show his authority, he kicked his little foot through a pane of glass. Surprised at this act of bold defiance, Miss Hillyard, rising from her seat, said, Sir, you must learn your lesson; and if you do not, though you are the Prince of Wales, I shall put you in the corner." However, the threat was of no avail; the defiance was repeated, and that, too, in the same determined manner as before; his Royal Highness breaking another pane of glass. Miss Hillyard, seeing her authority thus set at nought, rang the bell, and requested that his Royal Highness Prince Albert might be sent for. Shortly the Prince arrived: having learnt the reason why his presence was required, addressing the Prince of Wales, and pointing to a foot-stool or ottoman, said, "You will sit there, sir."

His Royal Highness then went to his own room, and, returning with a Bible in his hand, said to his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, "Now, I want you to listen to what St. Paul says about people who are under tutors and governors;" and having read the passage to him, he added, "It is undoubtedly true that you are the Prince of Wales, and, if you conduct yourself with propriety, you may, some day, be a great man; you may be King, in the room of your mother: but now you are only a little boy; though you are Prince of Wales, you are only a child, under tutors and governors, who must be obeyed, and must have those placed under them to do as they are bid. Moreover," said his Royal Highness, "I must tell you what Solomon says;" and he read to him the declaration that he who loveth his son chasteneth him betimes; and then, in order to show his love for his child, he chastised him and put him in a corner, saying, "Now, sir, you will stay there until you have learnt your lesson, and until Miss Hillyard gives you leave to come out: and remember that you are under tutors and governors, and that they must be obeyed."

AVOID BAD COMPANY. LITTLE S had never been known by his mother to tell a lie, or take what did not belong to him. One afternoon in summer, as the school did not meet, his mother left him at home to play in the yard, and locking the door of the house, went away for an hour or two to make some calls. While little Swas playing by himself, a larger boy came to see him, and they played together a while very pleasantly. At length the playmate of Soffered to make him a kite, if he would get him some paste. But this little S- said he could not do, as his mother was gone. "What difference does that make?" said the boy.

"Why," said little S-, "how can I get it if mother does not give it to


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"O yes; but I am afraid she will not like it."

"Nonsense; she won't care just for a little flour."

"But what if she should?"

"Why she will never know it. You can go in and get the flour, and then come right out again."

"But what if she asks me if I have been in the house, what shall I say?" "Tell her you played in the yard all the time she was gone."

Now little S was soon over-persuaded by this bad boy, and he started off for the flour. But here was another difficulty, the door was locked. The mischievous boy, however, who had set him on at first, soon remedied the difficulty by opening a window and lifting him in. Trembling, the little fellow went to the barrel, with his cup scooped up the flour, and hurried away without looking behind him, in his haste scattering some of it upon the floor. They then went busily to work upon the kite. Before he went away, this bad playmate of little S- told him over again what he should say, if his mother asked him anything about the paste. It was all false; but little S- had not yet learned how wicked it was to tell that which is untrue. Mrs. Scame home, and was surprised to find the flour all sprinkled over the floor: and could hardly believe her little boy had been so wicked as to have taken anything when she was away, without liberty.

She called him in. He came, looking ashamed and guilty, as little boys always do when they have done wrong.

"Has my little boy," said she, "been into the house since I have been away?"

"No," answered he sulkily, and hung his head. Oh, how was the poor mother's heart grieved to hear this! Her little boy had not only taken the flour without leave, but now denied it.

"Where did you get your paste, then?" said his mother.

Little S told the foolish and wicked story the bad boy had taught him.

"Come here, my little boy," said Mrs. S- ; and she led him to the pantry, and showed him the flour that he had spilled on the floor. "Now, I

know you have been here," said she. "How could you tell me that you had not?"

"Henry (the larger boy's name) told me to," said little S; and he now related to his mother the whole scene, weeping more to see his mother look so much grieved, than because he understood the wickedness of his act.

His good mother then sat down and told of the dreadful sins he had committed against God, first in disobeying his mother, then in taking what did not belong to him, and finally in telling a lie about it. After this, the little boy being now very penitent, she kneeled and prayed with him that God would forgive him, and help him to do

so no more.

Learn from this account of Schildren, to avoid bad companions; and expect, if you do wrong, your sin will find you out; and remember, that one fault or sin almost always makes another necessary; a little thief will generally be a little liar.


I Do not hear that mellow tone

So wont to greet my list'ning ear: I feel as if I were alone,

When evening shades are gathering


My hurried step, as homeward bound,
Anxious to learn if thou wert ill,
Was e'er to thee a welcome sound,
While yet upon the doorway-sill.
My fervent thought thine ear had caught,
While quicker pulses throbb'd to tell
What raptures to thy soul were brought
In knowing that I loved thee well.

I watch'd for thee! the first to tell

What thy quick eye to memory's store Had gather'd, while it pleased thee well; And, told by thee, a father more.

That cautious step, that eye so mild; That merry laugh, that fond embrace: I do not feel thy hand, my child;

Its thrilling pressure on my face. That vacant chair against the wall;

The rocking-horse, the marble hound; The tiny drum, the whip, the ball,

With e'en the belt thy waist around; The toys that were thy keen delightThough trifles light aside from theeAre all so many tokens bright

Of joys that now have ceased to be.

That ample brow, that musing mien ;
The glance that ever went within ;
Thy thoughts, and words, and ways, I

Too ripe to be where thou hast been.
No more responsive to that smile,
Shall joys leap rampant in my breast;
Nor lonely hours that voice beguile;
For absent is my spirit's guest.

The harp of thousand strings lies hush'd

In slumbers 'neath the greenwood tree; While weeping hearts, in sorrow crush'd, Now mourn its wafted melody.

The hand that erst essay'd to make
Sweet minstrelsy 'mid earthly ties,
Now sweeps a lyre whose echoes break
'Mid joys seraphic in the skies!

At home! in yonder "happy land;"
Immortal there! no pain, no tears:
The song of that cherubic band,
Redemption! through eternal years.
September, 1848.
A. A. S.


A FAIR young girl in sadness lay
Upon a downy couch,
Round which the sunset's brightest ray
Dwelt with a ling'ring touch.

"'Tis hard to die," she murmur'd soft; "I love the shadowy glade;

I love the fields, the woods, where oft
In childhood I have stray'd.

"My cherish'd flowers, so sweet, so bright,
E'en now for them I sigh;
Their op'ning tints gave me delight;
Oh! it is hard to die.

""T is hard to die! my mother dear,
Oh! give me one fond kiss;
Fain would my spirit linger here,
To be with thee in bliss."

The mother bent her sorrowing form,
And strove the tear to hide;
Her anxious heart beat quick and warm,
For well she loved that child.

"Farewell, kind sister! once again
Fold me in thy embrace;

Come nearer, come; ah! 't is in vain,
I cannot see thy face.

"Oh! pray for me," she wildly cried,
"Resign'd that I may go

To everlasting hills of peace,
Where healing waters flow."

She closed her eyes in silent prayer,
Hush'd was the last soft sigh;
Her Saviour's open arms were there;
She found it sweet to die!



The Cabinet.

THE HISTORY, OFFERING, AND CHARACTER OF ABEL. THE history of Abel is an extremely brief one, and the facts contained in it very few; but those facts are of great importance, highly instructive and interesting.

Abel, the second son of Adam and Eve, was born, probably, not long after his brother Cain; but from some cause, which is not stated in the sacred history, his birth seems to have been regarded by his mother with very different feelings to those she manifested when Cain was born, whom she beheld with joy, and called Cain, saying, with apparent delightful anticipations of future comfort in him, "I have gotten a man from the Lord." But Abel was not welcomed by such sanguine expressions: the name given him signifies vanity, or a vapour; and as all names in the first ages were not merely arbitrary distinctions, but contained a meaning, in some way or other applicable to the persons bearing them, it is reasonable to suppose that it was some important cause which led Eve to call her second son, Vanity. Abel, however, was chosen by God to become a partaker in his salvation, which Cain proudly rejected. That Abel was a converted person is evident, though of the time and means employed to effect this change we have no account. It took place, probably, very early in life, and most likely through parental instruction. It is not too much to suppose that Adam would frequently sit with his wife and children in their primitive dwelling, and recount the transactions that took place in Eden-the giving of the law his transgression and sentence-and the cheering, though mysterious promise, about the seed of the woman. Eve, too, might have often shown to her children-when leading them to enjoy the sight of nature after the winter was past, and the rain over and gone-when flowers again appeared on the earth, and the time of the singing of birds was come when the fig-tree and the vine, with the tender grape, gave forth a good smell, she, perhaps, in those rambles pointed out to them from afar the delightful bowers of Paradise, and, not without feelings of terror, would direct their attention to the flaming sword and the cherubim, always guarding its entrance. These instructions and facts, accompanied by the blessing of the Holy Spirit, would produce a conviction of sin, at the same time that they encouraged a hope of mercy. Besides, there appears little reason to doubt that sacrifice was offered by Adam in the presence of his family; and these services would tend to deepen impression, and give an impulse to Abel's piety. But time passed on; Abel grew in stature and age; and as it was necessary he should have a calling, it is not improbable that the occupation of a shepherd was mainly, if not wholly, a matter of his own choice. It


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