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EARLY RISING.-I will here record the observation which I have found of great use to myself, and to which I may say that the production of this work and most of my other writings is owing; namely, that the difference between rising at five and at seven of the clock in the morning for the space of forty years, supposing a man to go to bed at the same hour at night, is nearly equivalent to the addition of ten years to a man's life.-Doddridge.

DR. ADAM CLARKE ON SLAVERY. "How can any nation pretend to fast cr worship God at all, or dare to profess that they believe in the existence of such a Being, while they carry on what is termed the Slave-trade, and traffic in the souls, blood, and bodies of men! Oh ye most flagitious of knaves, and worst of hypocrites, cast off at once the mask of religion, and deepen not your endless perdition by professing the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ while ye continue in this traffic."

We commend this passage to the meditation of British apologists of American Slaveholders.-ED.

no injury to any, but, on the contrary, doing good to all: to bear trials patiently, in the hope of future recompense: in fine, to claim no credit to ourselves because of our virtues, but give thanks to God for all our faculties and all our works. These are the feelings which ought to pervade the whole man, until they have become a second nature.-Erasmus, D'Aubigné, vol. i., p. 88.

THE INFLUENCE OF THE PRESS AND THE PEOPLE IN CAUSING THE REFORMATION.-Those who look for the friends of reformation only on the steps of thrones, or in cathedrals and academies, and maintain that no such friends exist among the people, are under a serious mistake. God, while preparing the heart of the wise and powerful, was also preparing, in retirement, many simple and humble-minded men, who were one day to become obedient to the Word. The history of the period gives evidence of the fermentation which was then going on The poamong the humbler classes. pular literature, previous to the Reformation, had a tendency directly opposed to the spirit which was prevalent in the RESPONSIBILITY OF CONVERTS.- church. In the "Euleuspiegel," a celeWhen a Christian missionary had la- brated popular poetical collection of boured some time at Balasore, a young the period, the laugh is incessantly kept Brahmin, Jugunnat'ha, embraced the up at priests, beasts, and gluttons, who gospel. Soon after the brother of a keep full-stocked cellars, fine horses, native magistrate said to him, "Do you and well-lined pantries. In the "Rebelieve this from your heart?" Jugun- nard Reinecke," the household of priests, nat'ha said, Yes." "Well," said the with their little children, play an imother, "we are watching; you are mak-portant part. Another popular writer ing an experiment; if you live a holy life, we shall know that this gospel is true. Padree-saheb has been preaching for three or four years; but we have our doubts, and cannot believe; none of the Ooreyas till now have embraced this religion; if you bear good fruit, many will follow your example."

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thunders with all his might against those ministers of Christ who ride splendid horses, but wont fright the infidels; and John Rosenblest, in one of his carnival games, brings the Grand Turk upon the stage, to preach a seasonable sermon to all the states in Christendom. It was unquestionably in the bowels of the people that the Reformation which CHRISTIAN PHILOSOPHY.-The sum was soon to break out was fermenting. of all Christian philosophy is reduced Not only from this class were youths to this:-To place all our hope in God, seen coming forth, who were afterwho, through grace, without our me- wards to occupy the first stations in the rits, gives us everything by Jesus Christ: church, but even individuals, who conto know that we are ransomed by the tinued all their lives to labour in the death of his Son: to die to worldly humblest professions, contributed powlusts, and walk conformably to his doc-erfully to the great awakening of Christrine, and his example, not only doing tendom.-Ibid, vol. i., p. 100.

Poetry.

STRANGE THINGS.

STRANGE that the wind should be left so free,
To play with a flower, or tear a tree;
To range or ramble where'er it will,
And, as it lists, to be fierce or still;
Above and around to breathe of life,
Or to mingle the earth and sky in strife;
Gently to whisper, with morning light,
Yet to growl like a fetter'd fiend at night;
Or to love, and cherish, and bless to-day,
What to-morrow it ruthlessly rends away!

Strange that the sun should call into birth
All the fairest flowers and fruits of earth,
Then bid them perish, and see them die,
While they cheer the soul and gladden the eye.
At morn, its child is the pride of spring-
At night, a shrivell'd and loathsome thing!
To-day there is hope and life in its breath-
To-morrow it shrinks to a useless death!

Strange doth it seem that the sun should joy
To give life alone that it may destroy;
Or cherish it all the way it must roam
To leave it a wreck within sight of home;
To smile as the mariner's toils are o'er,
Then wash the dead to the cottage-door;
And gently ripple along the strand
To watch the widow behold him laud!

But, stranger than all, that man should die
When his plans are form'd and his hopes are high:
He walks forth a lord of the earth to-day,

And the morrow beholds him a part of its clay.
He is born in sorrow, and cradled in pain,
And from youth to age it is labour in vain;
And all that seventy years can show
Is, that wealth is trouble, and wisdom woe;
That he travels a path of care and strife
Who drinks of the poison'd cup of life!

Alas! if we murmur at things like these,
That reflection tells us are wise decrees;
That the wind is not ever a gentle breath—
That the sun is often the bearer of death-
That the ocean wave is not always still-
That life is chequer'd with good and ill:

If we know 't is well that such change should be,
What do we learn from the things we see?

That an erring and sinning child of dust

Should not wonder nor murmur-but hope and trust.

The Children's Gallery.

THE FOUNTAIN.

BY REV. JOSEPH ALDEN, D.D.

In a small beech grove which grew just behind Mr. Benton's garden there was a fountain of clear, sparkling water, which gushed forth from beneath a rock, and formed a beautiful rivulet, whose waters hastened on their bright way to join a large brook, and so on to the river and the sea. The little fishes found their way into it, and a colony of them lived in the rocky basin into which the water poured from the rock. Charles and Mary were accustomed to play in the grove in the summer, and they spent many pleasant hours there. At first Charles was afraid of the bears, but his sister soon convinced him of the folly of his fears.

Mary was a year or two older than her brother, and she acted as his guardian and instructor. And it must be said to the credit of the little fellow, that he always paid great regard to what she said. Happily her influence was of the right kind.

When Mary and Charles were weary of walking or running through the grove, they would sit down by the fountain and watch the little fishes swimming about: then they would gaze upon the reflection of the blue sky and bright clouds and green trees in the water,--for the water was so clear that it gave back the images of objects almost as perfectly as a looking-glass.

Sometimes when Charles was asleep, or otherwise engaged, Mary would go to the fountain alone, and sit down on a stone that was overgrown with soft green moss, and enjoy her thoughts in silence.

What did she think about? Does any one say, what matters it what a child is thinking about? I answer, it is a great matter. On the kind of thoughts which are cherished in childhood and youth depend the character of the, man and woman. I will give some of Mary's thoughts on one of the occasions above alluded to.

One day she sat on the moss stone and gazed on the fountain. Her course of thought was something like this:

"The fountain is always clear—it is never muddy. It always has the same clear face. True it is brighter in sunshiny than in cloudy weather, but it is never muddy.

Now the Lord made it and placed it here, and it ought to remind me that I ought to keep my temper even and my face bright. I must always be sincere, so that people can see through me. I'll try to be like the fountain. When I am out of sorts and ill-natured, I will think of the fountain, and it will help me to get clear and calm." She dwelt for some time on the pleasant idea of resembling the beautiful fountain, and set in order many resolutions to this effect. Then she thought of her many broken resolutions, and remembered her weakness, and she kneeled down, having first looked round to see if there were any persons in the grove, and prayed for strength to keep her resolutions so far as they were right in the sight of God.

As she resumed her seat she saw that her mother was near her, but her eyes were bent on the ground so that she might not appear to notice Mary's act of devotion. Charles was a little way behind her.

"Now sister, why did you come without me ?" said Charles in rather a complaining tone.

"Because you were asleep," said Mary.

"You staid so long alone, that I began to think it was time to look after you," said her mother. "How have you employed yourself all this while ?"

"O I have had such a nice time, thinking all alone." "What have you been thinking about ?"

Mary told her what had passed through her mind. The mother was delighted to know that her daughter was thus early disposed to heed the lessons which God designed nature should teach.

At this moment a breeze ruffled the surface of the basin, and again it was perfectly smooth. "Did you notice, dear, how soon the smoothness returned to the ruffled water?”

"Yes ma'am."

"Can you not derive a lesson from and she repeated the hymn with a proit ?" priety and pathos that would lead one to hope that her soul had been cleansed in that fountain.

"I don't know"-and after thinking a moment-" yes ma'am. If we can't help being disturbed in our minds by some things, we should become calm again as soon as possible."

"That is a good thought; but you must guard against the idea that the disturbances of passion are as unavoidable as the ruffling of the water by the wind."

"We can't help some things happening any more than we can keep the wind from blowing."

"True; but we can prevent their awakening passion in our bosoms." "We can't help our feelings at all times, can we ?"

"We can in a great measure; and by prayer and painstaking we can acquire that power over our feelings which shall enable us at all times to possess our souls in patience.' You have had a great many pleasant hours beside this fountain-have you been thankful for them ?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Have you, Charles ?"

"Yes, ma'am. One night I and Mary were telling over what we had to be thankful to the good Lord for, and I named the spring."

"That was right, my boy." "And I have thanked the good Lord for the fishes in the spring."

Charles was disposed to go on and enumerate more of what he thought were his good deeds, but as his mother did not need proof that young folks can be self-righteous as well as old ones, she checked him, and continued her conversation with Mary.

"You have had a great many pleasant thoughts connected with this spot."

"Yes mother; sometimes I sit down here alone, and try to make it seem as though Eliza was sitting here with me as she used to do."

Eliza was an older sister, who had gone to heaven a year before. Her mother made no reply to her remark.

"I often think while I am sitting here of the hymn Eliza used to love so well

'There is a fountain fill'd with blood;""

"Mother, let me sing it ?"

Her mother was too much affected by the sad, sweet thought that filled her mind to speak. She shook her head: after a moment's pause, she bent over and kissed Mary, whispering, "Sing it, dear."

Mary, with a clear, sweet voice, sang the hymn, her little brother joining with her, except in a few of the highest

notes.

After the hymn was finished, they sat in silence for a little time, and then returned sad, but not sorrowful, to their dwelling.

MEMOIR OF ANNE YOUNG. ANNE YOUNG, the subject of the following brief notice, was born in February, 1832, at Maddybenny, three miles from Coleraine, in the north of Ireland. From the dawn of reason she evinced a quiet, sober cast of mind, and great sweetness of temper. So remarkably was this exemplified by her, that her parents have said that they never saw Anné in a passion, or discover symptoms of ill-humour on any occasion. Her parents, being Christians in the scriptural sense of the term, gave to their child a strictly religious education. Of her it might be said, as of Timothy, that "from a child she knew the holy Scriptures, which are able to make wise unto salvation." Besides instructing her at home, they sent her to a sabbath evening adult school, which the writer of this conducts, and also to a daily school which his wife teaches, and where sound scriptural instructions are given to the children. Anne loved both; and the diligence with which she attended to her lessons, as well as the wisdom and propriety of her behaviour in general, were most exemplary. Indeed, she was frequently referred to by her teacher in the daily school as an example for the rest of the children to imitate. There was nothing, however, remarkable in her progress or attainments; on the contrary, we sometimes thought her rather dull in her answers to Seripture questions; but

she was a very modest, diffident, humble child, and very likely possessed more knowledge than we gave her credit for. It was on her sick and dying bed that the religious principles which she had imbibed and the truths she had received began fully to exert their powerful influence on her character, and to show the firm hold they had taken of her heart. Then the good seed which had been sown brought forth abundance of fruit to the glory of God and her own comfort and that of her relatives and friends.

From the time she was seized with the illness, which terminated so fatally, her judgment, in reference to Divine things, became remarkably clear; her mind appeared to expand every day with the knowledge of God's word, and her tongue was loosed to speak the praises of her Saviour. She was more like an aged Christian fully matured in knowledge and grace than like a young disciple.

deep anxiety, and that affectionate and earnest solicitude, which every Christian parent experiences in regard to his offspring; and he availed himself of the earliest opportunity of ascertaining the foundation of his daughter's hopes for salvation, and the state of her mind in reference to the things of God and eternity. He had the inexpressible satisfaction of finding that her soul was fixed on the Rock of Ages, her hope of heaven built on the foundation laid in Zion, the blood and righteousness of Immanuel. Her views of gospel truth were exceedingly clear, and her faith in God's testimony concerning his Son simple and unwavering. Often did she repeat the following delightful declarations :-" This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners." "I am a sinner. It was not the righteous, but sinners, he came to save; and therefore he will save me when I trust in him." " Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." "Lord, I am weary and heavy laden with sin and with affliction, but I come to thee, and thou wilt give me rest." This was a most prominent feature in her character throughout her illness-simple, unquestioning reliance on God's word. On one occasion, her father, in order to try her, said, " But, Anne, are you sure that when you die you'll be hap

She was seized with her last illness on the 1st of March, 1846. Being of a delicate constitution, disease soon accomplished its work on her feeble frame. From its first attack dangerous symptoms were apparent, and it was her own conviction that she would not recover. As one proof of this, it may be mentioned, that shortly after she was taken ill her two sisters were speaking of going to town to buy a new dress for the summer. She ad-py?" She looked at him with apparent vised them to wait for a little, saying, "You will soon, perhaps, buy a dress of a different colour from what you would buy now;" meaning, that they would be getting a suit of mourning after her decease.

The second or third day after she was obliged to take to her bed. She was assisted to the kitchen door to see the funeral of a man who had lived as a servant many years in her father's house, and where, it is believed, he learned the way to heaven. Anne remarked on the occasion, "It is hard to say who of us will be carried next to the grave." The event has proved that she was the very next person from that locality who was carried to the tomb.

From the commencement of her sickness her father felt all that tender and

surprise, and quickly replied, "O yes,
father; doesn't the word of God say
that Jesus Christ died to save sinners ?
and that whosoever believeth on him
shall not perish, but have everlasting
life? And isn't the word of God true?"
Another grace she displayed in her
affliction was submission to the will of
God. No murmuring nor discontent
was manifested by her. No impatient,
fretful words escaped her lips, though
her afflictions were so great that she
was often obliged to cry out under
them. Then she would say,
"I hope
this is not sinful; I cannot help it, my
pain is so great; but," she would some-
times add, "it is light compared with
what the Lord Jesus suffered for me;"
and would quote the lines of a favourite
hymn-

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