Free-trade measures, replied in the following remarkable language, which I would have engraven upon the heart of every youthful Englishman: "I have been a long while in making up my mind on this subject. I long thought that Free-trade was unwise and injurious; but, after a serious and unprejudiced investigation, gathering information from many quarters inaccessible to any but to a Minister of the Crown, I am convinced that the happiness, perhaps the existence, of thousands and tens of thousands depend upon having a free interchange of the necessaries of life. Can I allow any consideration of consequences which may or may not happen to an individual to have the slightest weight in determining a matter of such universal interest? RUAT COLUM!" The Fragment Basket. PARENTS AND CHILDREN. That which I have often blamed as indiscreet and dangerous in many fathers is, to be very indulgent to their children whilst they are little, and, as they come to riper years, to lay great restraint upon them, and live with greater reserve towards them, which usually produces an ill understanding between father and son, which cannot but be of bad consequence; and I think fathers would generally do better, as the sons grow up, to take them into a nearer familiarity, and live with them with as much freedom of friendship as their age and temper will allow.-Locke. FORCE OF HABIT. In illustration of the maxim that habit will reconcile us to almost everything, Sir George Stanton related that he visited a man in India, who, for some crime, had been sentenced to sleep for seven years on a bedstead without any mattress, the whole surface of which was studded with points of iron resembling nails, but not so sharp as to penetrate the flesh. Sir George saw this man in his fifth year, and his skin was then like the hide of a rhinoceros, but more callous. At that time he could sleep quite comfortably on his bed of thorns, and rather liked it. He said he should continue it from choice when his time was up. It is rather tough, though, getting used to such things. ORIGIN OF QUARRELS. The sweetest, the most clinging af fection is often shaken by the slightest breath of unkindness, as the delicate rings and tendrils of the vine are agitated by the faintest air that blows in summer. An unkind word from one beloved often draws blood from many a heart which would defy the battleaxe of hatred, or the keenest edge of vindictive satire. Nay, the shade, the gloom of the face, familiar and dear, awakens grief and pain. These are the little thorns which, though men of rougher form may make their way through them without feeling much, extremely incommode persons of a more refined turn in their journey through life, and make their travelling irksome and unpleasant. THE HEAVIEST TAXES. "The taxes are indeed heavy,” said Dr. Franklin on one occasion, "and if those laid on by the Government were the only ones we had to pay, we might more easily discharge them; but we have many others, and much more grievous to some of us. We are taxed twice as much by our idleness, three times as much by our pride, and four times as much by our folly: and from these taxes the commissioners cannot ease or deliver us, by allowing any abatement." Yes: and the old American philosopher might have added, the tax which men and women pay when they are always pouring an enemy down their throats to steal away their brains. DIFFICULTY. Difficulty is a severe instructor, set over us by the supreme ordinance of a parental guardian and legislator, who knows us better than we know ourselves, and he loves us better too. He that wrestles with us, strengthens our nerves, and sharpens our skill. Our antagonist is our helper. This amicable conflict with difficulty obliges us to an intimate acquaintance with our object, and compels us to consider it in all its relations. It will not suffer us to be superficial.-Burke. VICE. He who yields himself to vice must inevitably suffer. If the human law does not convict and punish him, the moral law, which will have obedience, will follow him to his doom. Every crime is committed for a purpose, with some idea of future personal pleasure; and just as surely as God governs the universe, so surely does a crime, although concealed, destroy the happiness of the future. No matter how deeply laid have been the plans of the criminal, or how desperately executed, detection pursues him like a bloodhound, and tracks him to his fate. A GOOD RULE. A lady asked the Rev. John Newton what was best for female dress and behaviour. "Madam," said he, "80 dress that persons who have been in your company shall not recollect what you had on." This will generally be the case where singularity of dress is avoided, and where intelligence of mind and gentleness of manners are cultivated. LIFE. Look not mournfully into the past; it comes not back again. Wisely improve the present; it is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear, and with a manly heart.Longfellow. EFFECTS OF WEALTH. He is a great simpleton who imagines that the chief power of wealth is to supply wants; in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, it creates more wants than it supplies. Poetry. THE DYING MOTHER'S COUNSEL. "COME near, my little daughters, My parting words-for you must hear Your mother's eye grows dim; "Oh! keep his holy Sabbath, And run to meet him when he comes "Watch o'er your baby-brother, "They'll cover me, my daughters, Decrepit Rome, with crucifix, May grope her way to dubious light; And Oxford learn the juggling tricks That change the Gospel noon to night; Yet when I dip in Jordan's flood, And sentient mind and flesh give way, I ask no gilt or ivory god To aid my hope and be my stay. Oh! more than blossoms, leaves, and root Of Calvary's plant my bruises need; The tree can never heal-its fruit Is oil, and balm, and life indeed. He who upon its branches hung Must be my joy, and boast, and pride; In life and death, my soul and tongue Will only mention Him who died. While Popes, with lifted banners, cry, "Look to the Cross, for you unfurl'd!" Through tears of grief and joy will I Look to the Saviour of a world. For on the Rock my fathers chose, On which, secure, the children stand, I plant my foot; -dash here, ye foes, And break and scatter round the land! TAPPAN. THE CUP. COMFORT FOR THE AFFLICTED. CHEER up! my love, cheer up! Thy Father knows thy frame, He knows thy sorrowing heart; Oh! tell me, tell me, dear, Wouldst thou from sorrow part? 'Tis He that strikes the blow, 'Tis He that knows the need; 'Tis He, oh! praise him now, That wouldst thee bless indeed. Thy heart is smitten sore; Look up! my love, look up! Now peace is on thy brow; The Children's Gallery. SOMETHING FOR LITTLE GIRLS. DID you ever reflect upon the labour it cost the good old patriarch Noah to build the Ark? Oh! what a stupendous undertaking it was! How many long days he must have toiled at it before it was ready to receive its inmates, and to protect them from the terrible deluge that was to destroy all the earth besides! No doubt he had a great many employed to help him. And I have thought sometimes of his little children-how inquisitive they would be about the object of this great ship! How many questions they would ask about it-when the flood was coming; how long it would last; in what part of the Ark they were to reside; where all the different animals would go, and what they were to eat for so many long months. There would be no end to their queries in relation to all these matters. And would they not try to help their father in this great work? No doubt they did; for although it was so great an undertaking, there were many things that a little child could do as well as the most skilful workman. They could carry the pins and nails, and perform many like useful offices. And methinks it would often be a great comfort to them in after years, as they floated safely about in this great vessel, to think of the little help they had rendered their honoured father in its construction. Just so it is in the great work of Missions. There is something for each one to do. The smallest and the poorest can help. And all of us, perhaps, could do more than we think we can. nation especially valuable is, that it is, for the most part, the proceeds of their own industry; some with their needles, some by various kinds of domestic labour, and some by self-denial in dress or otherwise. Thus nearly all have either earned or saved what they gave. It was largely their own, and hence much more valuable than if they had begged it from their parents. Nor do they claim any praise for what they have done. They know very well that they have done no more than it was their duty to do, and hence they have nothing whereof to boast. Even this, compared with what the great Missionary of Calvary did for them, is less than the small dust in the balance. It is nothing, not worthy to be mentioned, or even thought of, in comparison with the sacrifices endured by the "Man of Sorrows" for our sake. Compared with what many earthly missionaries have to endure, it is a very small matter. Why, then, should these little girls ever think of being proud, or imagine that they had done some great thing? But small as this effort is, it shows what could be done, were there only a mind to the work. How many other schools could do just as much, or more than they, if they would only make the trial! Perhaps the reason that they have attempted nothing is, that no one has encouraged them. No one has given them a plan. Thus each of our "little ones," in efficiency and usefulness, might "become a thousand," and the "small ones" "each a strong nation." THE LESSON OF THE CATARACT. MANY of our young readers have heard of the Nile and its crocodiles, but few, perhaps, ever heard of its cataracts. The following is given by a recent traveller: For a little there was silence-the silence of suspense: the sound of the oars music of the darabookkeh, and every one ceased, together with the song and the appeared to be nerving himself for what was to come. One would have almost thought that the boat herself paused, which arose, no doubt, from the sudden stopping of the oars. If it was so, it was far less than a moment; for, the rapid fairly taking her, she was dragged over the ledge and into the very middle of the boiling torrent, down which she soon began to dash with the speed of a race horse. The rapid descent-the foaming water that she bounded through with a velocity far greater than that of the torrent, making it rise up her sides, and sending it in perfect seas over her bows-with the shrill voice and gesture of the pilot, that every moment became more and more energetic and the anxious looks of the man at the helm, together with the fear that something might go wrong, and the hope that nothing would-made it one of the most exciting moments of my life; though, at the same time, I felt great delight in seeing how gallantly the old boat was conducted through it all. Sometimes the boat seemed to swerve, and would for an instant appear to be making for the rocks before her; but a slight touch of the rudder would change her course again, and force her right on to the very white crest of the waters, down which she held her mad course with a velocity that seemed like lightning. It seemed to me that if, by the rarest guidance, we escaped from the ridges of rocks between which we were running, nothing could possibly save us, at the rate we were going, from running stem on to the steep rocks that lined, like a wall, the opposite side of the river, into which the cataract fell. This, too, was escaped by making a long sweep, which soon checked the boat's way; and by the time we reached the rocks, she was almost motion less. In a minute or two more all the danger, the noise, and the tumult were forgotten; the oars were out again, and we were pulling in smooth water, where wild fowl sat pluming themselves in the sunshine; the sailors struck up the darabookkeh again, and resumed their song; and the old Sheikh of the cataracts had his pipe Decrepit Rome, with crucifix, May grope her way to dubious light; And Oxford learn the juggling tricks That change the Gospel noon to night; Yet when I dip in Jordan's flood, And sentient mind and flesh give way, I ask no gilt or ivory god To aid my hope and be my stay. Oh! more than blossoms, leaves, and root Of Calvary's plant my bruises need; The tree can never heal-its fruit Is oil, and balm, and life indeed. He who upon its branches hung Must be my joy, and boast, and pride; In life and death, my soul and tongue Will only mention Him who died. While Popes, with lifted banners, cry, For on the Rock my fathers chose, TAPPAN. THE CUP. COMFORT FOR THE AFFLICTED. CHEER up! my love, cheer up! Thy Father knows thy frame, Wouldst thou from sorrow part? That wouldst thee bless indeed. Thy heart is smitten sore; Look up! my love, look up! Now peace is on thy brow; The Children's Gallery. SOMETHING FOR LITTLE GIRLS. DID you ever reflect upon the labour it cost the good old patriarch Noah to build the Ark? Oh! what a stupendous undertaking it was! How many long days he must have toiled at it before it was ready to receive its inmates, and to protect them from the terrible deluge that was to destroy all the earth besides! No doubt he had a great many employed to help him. And I have thought sometimes of his little children-how inquisitive they would be about the object of this great ship! How many questions they would ask about it-when the flood was coming; how long it would last; in what part of the Ark they were to reside; where all the different animals would go, and what they were to eat for so many long months. There would be no end to their queries in relation to all these matters. And would they not try to help their father in this great work? No doubt they did; for although it was so great an undertaking, there were many things that a little child could do as well as the most skilful workman. They could carry the pins and nails, and perform many like useful offices. And methinks it would often be a great comfort to them in after years, as they floated safely about in this great vessel, to think of the little help they had rendered their honoured father in its construction. Just so it is in the great work of Missions. There is something for each |