all things never let your son touch a novel or romance. How delusive, how destructive are those features of consummate bliss! They teach the youth ful to sigh after beauty and happiness that never existed; to despise the little good that fortune has mixed in our cup, by expecting more than she ever gave; and in general-take the word of a man who has seen the world, and studied it more by experience than by precept-take my word for it, I say, that such books teach us very little of the world." What unfits the mind for the realities of life also unfits it for religion; for it is a practical matter of-fact-subject. The injurious effect of novel reading is never fully known. It hinders doing and getting good, and it also trains up and grows an amount of evil products which eternity alone can exhibit. It hinders the mind from receiving good instructions which might be blessed. It quenches the influence which truth, accompanied by the Spirit of God, was likely to produce in blessed results. "It is only a novel, and only for pastime:" so says the frequenter of the theatre or bar room. It is pastime! But, alas! does a culprit who is under sentence of death, and only waiting for the day of execution, want something to amuse him, to pass his time? Does a sinner who is already condemned, and who knows not but this very night the order will come for his immediate summons to the judgmentbar of his offended God, there to hear the sentence of "Depart," or, "Cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness,"-can such a soul need anything to pass his time? Throw away that novel; give your thoughts to the realities of your life, and the solemnities of your death. You have no time to spare! use it! use it well, and use it at once! If you would save your soul, have nothing to do with a novel ! Che Fragment Basket. "WHO KEEPS THE KEYS ?" Being in a neighbouring town in the midst of an interesting revival of religion, I was invited by the pastor of a church to preach for him in the evening. A deep solemnity rested on the congregation as I spoke from the words, 'Behold, I stand at the door and knock." A man was present who had hitherto neglected the invitations of the Gospel, and had that evening, for the first time, attended the meeting. At the close of the services he came up the aisle, and inquired in a cavilling manner, "Who keeps the keys?" I replied, that every man keeps the keys of his own heart, but Christ keeps the keys of heaven. We parted, and in two months met again, but not as before. In apparent health, he had fallen speechless and senseless to the ground. A summons was given. I hastened to the spot, and saw him draw one breath; but it was the last. His soul was ushered into eternity. Repeatedly had the Saviour called; but he refused. He suffered the Saviour to stand at the door and knock, till he, wretched man, was ushered, naked, into the presence of his Judge. Now he knows "who keeps the keys" of heaven, and we fear realizes what it is to stand at the door and knock, asking for admittance and gaining none. THE GOLD MINE. A certain Spaniard had a gold mine of very great value; but instead of working it in a proper manner, he contented himself with digging over the surface, and removing a little of the earth, but never went half deep enough to get the gold; so that, although he was the owner of a mine, he lived and died poor, never having got so much from his mine as to keep him from poverty. Now, the Bible is more valuable than a gold mine; and the truth it contains, that "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life" (John iii. 16), is more precious than the choicest gold. If, then, we go deep enough into our Bibles to discover the Saviour for sinners, and to acknowledge him as our Saviour, happy are we; but if we rest contented in reading the Bible without discovering this truth, we shall get no more profit from the Bible than the Spaniard got from his gold mine. WHAT I HAVE SEEN AND I have seen a lady adorned with costly apparel, clothed in silk and velvet, with her fingers ornamented by rings, and her wrists by jewelled brace THE EMIGRANTS. lets; and that lady's seamstress, who was entirely dependent upon her daily earnings, has remained unpaid for months. I have seen a young girl expend shillings upon a useless trinket, who, half an hour before, had refused a trifle to a needy beggar. I have seen a mother cheerfully lavish money to purchase her daughter's expensive and superfluous dresses; and I have heard the same mother grumble that she had to pay servants such enor mous wages. Portry. THEY go with blessings on them pour'd Far more than words have spoken; They dread not honest toil; With hands for labour, hearts of worth, But who shall check the mother's tear, Where'er the parted roam, All that their early guides had taught From sire to son bestow'd;. Never has wisdom of the sage Bequeath'd a loftier codeThe life a Christian parent leads; Not words alone, but earnest deeds. The flowers that by our wayside grow, Bloom not in every clime; But seeds affection's hand may sow Freely in life's spring-time: These borne by scatter'd household bands, Shall blossom in far distant lands. GOLD, WHAT IT CAN AND CANNOT DO. WHAT is thy power, O Gold! That man so worships thee? Come forth with bearing bold, Saith Gold, "I can procure The luxuries of the earth; And palaces have dearth. I move the grave divine; I tell thee, Gold, thou vauntest now, Thou right good friend in need, Though all thy absence deeply rue, I'll tell thee what thou canst not do. Yon preacher of God's truth, The cleanser of the haunts of vice, Show him thy glittering heaps, And tempt him to forego That hamlet where the mourner weeps, With none to solace woe: He answers thee, "One soul is worth More than the riches of the earth." Ask one restored to health By skill that Heaven has bless'd, Has a small portion of his wealth All gratitude express'd? No, Gold alone may not repay For skill, for watchings night and day. IT is said the child must be helped by familiar illustrations. I heard this in a school in Cheshire, where the children were being questioned on the text, "That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.” Teacher.-Can you make a bad man a good man, or a fleshly man to bring forth the fruits of the Spirit? Scholars.-No. T-What, not if you preach to him better than you have done? S.-No. T-What would you want to help you? S.-God's special grace. S.-Making a slit, and sticking in a pen or graft. T-And where would you take your pen or graft from? S.-A golden pippin-tree. T-If you had that, might the and watch that nothing hurt it. change be made? S.-Yes. T.-What is that tree in the garden? T-What does it bring forth? T-And what should you expect to happen? S.-The stock and the pen to grow together, and become one tree. T-Suppose any twigs grew out under the graft, and from the stock, T.-Does it ever bring forth apples? what would you do with them? bit. The little boy asked if he might have the bit. It was given to him, and with it he made a little real pump, with which he could raise water. When John Smeaton became a man, he contrived many clever and useful things. He found better ways than had been S.-You have no right to boast, for I grafted you; the glory of all those golden pippins belongs to me. T-Must not sinners be treated in known before of making mills, to be the same way? S.-Yes. turned by wind or water; and he built a tall light-house on the top of a rock T-What does God put into them? in the sea, which serves as a lantern S.-His Holy Spirit. T.-Then what will they bring forth? T-Was that before God had put T-Which tree was he like then? to show sailors which way they should go, and warn them where there is danger. By this means many lives have been saved, and many people have had reason to be glad that John Smeaton was not a careless, idle boy. Another boy, named Isaac Newton, lived at a farm, and was often set to mind the sheep and cattle, or assist in driving them to market. But while he did what he was told to do in this T-But did not the same man after-way, he tried also to get learning, and wards labour diligently for the church? S.-Yes. was much pleased when he was sent to school. He amused himself by T-Then what had been done to making a wind-mill and a wooden him? him was-? S.-Spirit. clock; and was once found on a hayS. His nature had been changed. loft, trying to do a very hard sum. T-When did that change take Once he saw an apple fall from a tree place? in the garden. Many boys would only S.-When God put his Holy Spirit have picked it up and eaten it. But into him. Isaac Newton was set thinking how T-And which tree did he then be- and why it was that when the stalk come like ? broke the apple fell to the ground. Did S.-The apple-tree. you ever think why this is? If you T-And the fruit of the Spirit in wish to know, ask your papa and mamma to explain it to you; it is well worth knowing. By thinking about this common thing, Isaac Newton was led to find out more than was ever known before about how the sun, moon, stars, and earth, keep their right places, and move about in such beautiful order. This led him to admire and adore the wisdom and goodness of God, who rules the whole. As you grow older it will be very pleasant to you to learn what this great man found out, and the use of the knowledge he gained by minding what he saw. CLEVER BOYS. THERE was a little boy named John Smeaton. He would often leave his play, to watch men at their work. He would ask how one part was to be fitted to another, and how the thing was to be used when it was done. If money was given him to buy cakes or playthings, he chose rather to spend it on tools, and tried to do what he had seen done with them. Once he was seen at the top of his father's barn fixing something like a windmill. At another time he saw some men fixing a pump, and took great notice of all they did. They had a thick piece of wood with a hole bored through it; it was longer than they wanted, so they cut off a his mother came in, he begged her not to be angry with him for touching the pen, ink, and paper; and he showed her the picture he had made. His mother knew at once what it was meant for. She was much pleased, and kissed her little boy. Then he said, if she liked it, he would make pictures of some flowers she held in her hand; and so he went on trying to do better and better, till he became one of the finest painters in the world. Now one little story about a poor little Irish chimney-sweep. Some kind person wished to collect all the chimney-sweepers in Dublin to teach them to read the Bible. One little boy was asked if he knew his letters? He said yes. Then he was asked if he could read? He said he could. He was next asked where he went to school, and in what book he had learned to read? He said he had never been at school at all, and he had never yet had any book. It was a wonder how he could have learned to read and spell; but the case was this, another little sweep, rather older than himself, had taught him to read by showing him the letters over the shop-doors, as they passed along the streets. See what may be done by trying and taking pains. THE PEACH. (From the German of Krummacher.) A farmer brought to his children five beautiful peaches. They saw these fruit for the first time, and were enchanted with the lovely apples, with rosy cheeks and velvet down. The father gave one to each of his four children, and the fifth to his wife. In the evening, as they were retiring to rest, he asked, "Now, how have you liked your beautiful apples ?" "Bravely! dear father," said the eldest," so acid and so soft! I have kept the stone of mine that I may have a tree of my own." "Well done!" said the father, "that was thoughtful, and you will make a good farmer." "I," said the youngest, "have eaten mine, but I threw away the stone. My mother gave me besides half of hers. Oh! it tasted so sweet and melting!" "You have not done well," said the father; "and yet it was natural, for greediness is common to children." Then began the second son: "I have cracked the stone which my little brother threw away, and there was a kernel inside which tasted like a nut. As for my peach, I sold it for as much as will buy twelve when I go to town." But the father shook his head. "Pray to God," said he, "to keep you from the sin of covetousness. And you, Edward?" "I have given mine to the sick George, our neighbour's son, who has lain so long in a fever." "Now," asked the father, "who has enjoyed his peach the most ?" The three others cried out, "Brother Edward!" but he alone was silent, and his mother kissed him with tears in her eyes. THE CHILD AND ITS ECHO. Little Charles knew nothing of an echo. Once, as he was playing by himself in a field, he cried out, "Ho! Hop!" and immediately a voice from a little wood close by repeated, "Ho! Hop!" Being surprised at this, he called out, "Who are you?" The same voice replied, "Who are you?" On this he cried out, "You're a stupid fellow!" and "Stupid fellow!" was of course the answer. At this, Charles being much displeased, began to call all the abusive names he could think of, and these same expressions all seemed to come back to him. "I never met with such insolence," he muttered, "but I'll revenge myself," and he ran up and down among the trees, trying to find out the supposed offender, but he could see nobody. Vexed and disappointed, he hastened home and told his mother that a bad boy had hidden himself in the wood, and called him all sorts of names. His mother smiled and shook her head. "Now you have betrayed and complained of yourself, Charles; for you must know you heard nothing but your own words repeated. As you have often seen your face reflected in the water, so have you now heard your |