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Be not contented with the sight,
But take them down in black and white;
Such a respect is wisely shown,
To make another's sense one's own.
In conversation, when you meet
With persons cheerful and discreet,
That speak or quote in prose or rhyme,
Things facetious or sublime,
Observe what passes, and anon,
When you come home, think thereupon ;
Write what occurs, forget it not-
A good thing saved's a good thing got.

THE FAMISHED WANDERER. “I SHOULD like very much to hear a story," said a fickle and thoughtless youth to his teacher. “I hate serious instruction: I can't bear preaching."

Listen, then,” said the teacher. “A wanderer filled his travelling pouch with savory meats and fruits, as his way would lead him across a wild desert. During the first few days he journeyed through the smiling fertile fields. But, instead of plucking the fruits which nature here offered for the refreshment of the traveller, he found it more convenient to eat of the provisions which he carried with him. He soon reached the desert. After journeying onward for a few days, his whole store of food was exhausted. He now began to wail and lament, for nowhere sprouted a blade of grass ; everything was covered with burning sand. After suffering for two long days in torments of hunger and thirst, he expired.”

“ It was foolish in him," said the youth, “to forget that he had to cross the desert."



“Do you act more wisely ?” asked the teacher, in an earnest tone. “You are setting forth on the journey of life—a journey that leads to eternity. Now is the time when you should seek after knowledge, and collect the treasures of wisdom ; but the labour affrights you, and you prefer to trifle away the spring-time of your years amid useless and childish pleasures. Continue to act thus, and you will yet, upon the journey of life, when wisdom and virtue fail you, fare like that hapless wanderer.”

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HERE you have a picture of the tomb of a good old sheikh (a word which means old man or chief), who lived and died some years ago at Gorruckpore. As is still the custom in the East, this old man had his tomb built and ready some

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years before he died. He was brought up a Mohammedan,
but for fourteen years he had been a Christian, and had
all that time suffered persecution from his friends. But
he was firm. This tomb was a sacred spot to him ; he
often went there to pray; and once, during an illness of
several days, he lived in it altogether. Once a mission-
ary found him lying on a couch in this tomb, with a
Testament in his hands, lost in thought. He asked him
what he was thinking about. Said be, “I was thinking
of death ;” and pointing to 1 Cor. v. 1, he said, " that is
the sweet portion of Scripture that led to it,” repeating,
“I know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were
dissolved, we have a building of God," &c. He then
added, “ Yes, I know, I know.
Reader, do

know ? Do


know ? Are you sure that when you die you will go to a home with God, eternal in the heavens? You “hope so !” Why have you not made sure of it ? Here is a poor old heathen who could say, even when sitting in his own tomb-not I hope—but I know, I know." I fear the difference betwixt you is this.--The old sheikh laid hold on eternal life; you take the matter easy, putting off the great work

more convenient season." He " resisted unto death" the threatenings of his relatives, who stood over him till his breath was out, with the Koran in their hands; you resist your friends and teachers, who strive to lead you in the way of life.

till a

WE speak of the realmes of the blest,
Of that country so bright and so fair ;
And oft are its glories confest ;
But what must it be to be there?



We speak of its pathways of gold,
Of its walks deck'd with jewels so rare
Its wonders and pleasures untold
But what must it be to be there?

We speak of its freedom from sin,
Every sorrow, temptation and care;
From trials without and within ;
But what must it be to be there?

We speak of its service of love,
Of the robes which the glorified wear ;
The church of the first-born above ;
Oh what must it be to be there?

We speak of the music of joy,
That is floating through all the pure air ;
The harps of gold seraphis employ ;
But what must it be to be there?

Do thou, Lord, amidst pleasure or woe,
Still for heaven our spirits prepare ;
And shortly we also shall know,
And feel what it is to be there.



In my last chapter I spoke chiefly of the size of London, and its enormous population ; now I must try to overtake some things I then omitted. Something was said about eating and drinking, but there are many poor creatures in London who have to live on very humble fare, for there are nearly 30,000 ragged children in the streets, and in one



year there were 143,000 vagrants admitted into the casual wards of the workhouses. Last year 10,381 persons died in hospitals, workhouses, or public institutions - making nearly one in every five of the whole number of deaths. But many end their days in places worse than a pauper's death bed, for about 500 people are drowned in the Thames every year-most of them wilfully, the victims of remorse and guilt. And here we have always in the midst of us about 100 burglars, 110 housebreakers, 700 pickpockets, 3,600 sneaksmen or common thieves; altogether about 16,900 criminals known to the police. About 35,000 people get their living by begging ; 30,000 are employed in the costermonger trade, and in addition to these about 11,000 people live by selling things in the streets, for which they receive about 3 millions sterling per annum.

To look after the wealth, and poverty, and crime of London, we have 6,367 policemen, about a dozen criminal prisons, and nearly 2,000 union, relieving, and other officers. There are 14,000 children clothed and educated gratis in London ; there are 11 societies for aiding the blind, deaf, and dumb; 103 colleges, hospitals, and other asylums for the aged ; 31 asylums for orphans. There are about 1,000 churches and chapels, more than 400 City missionaries and Scripture readers, 200 ragged schools, with 2,000 teachers, and about 15,000 children.

These missionaries and teachers have been doing a great work in London for many years past; they have brought out some fine spirits from the dark recesses of vice and crime. To show you this, I will conclude this chapter with a good story, which has both a home and foreign missionary interest.

Some years before any one knew that you would ever be in this world at all, two ladies were visiting the poor in ą,

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