Page images
PDF
EPUB

THE FIRESIDE.

Facts and Vints. EDUCATION.-Where this has been entirely neglected, or improperly managed, we see the worst passions ruling with uncontrolled and incessant sway. Good sense degenerates into craft, and anger rankles into malignity. Restraint, which is thought most salutary, comes too late, and the most judicious admonitions are urged in vain.

KEEP A LOW sail at the commencement of life; you may rise with honour, but you cannot recede without shame.

CURIOSITY is a good servant when under the control of discretion. But the indulgence of a sinful curiosity ruined the world,

SWEETNESS OF TEmper is pleasing in every company, and reflects a lustre on every accomplishment and action.

The Fireside.

FLINT-SOUP. “When first I was married,” said Mary Campbell, a respectable woman, well known to the writer, “we generally had flint soup for dinuer once a week.”

“Flint-soup! I never heard of such a thing. What could it be good for."

“Why, to be sure it was not over rich; but I am very glad that ever I learned to make it, and eat it, too."

And pray how is it made ?”

"I will tell you :-The first Saturday after we were married, my husband brought bome his wages, Now, Mary,' said he, “I must lay by — for rent, and for firing, and for clothing; and here is the remainder for you to make the best of for our supply throngh the week. But mind you do not run in debt; and have always a fresh loaf in the house before you cut the last. We cannot afford to eat new bread.' I got things very comfortably, and, as I thought, very frugally ; but the next Friday evening, after supper, I had to say to my husband, “What must we do? the money is all gone, and we have nothing in the house for to-morrow's dinner. I am sure I have made it go as far as I could.' My husband was very kind; he found no fault, but said we could have some flint-soup for dinner. He asked, if there was bread in the house. "Yes,' I said, 'a whole loaf and a piece.' "That's well,' he said, 'and, perhaps you have a little oatmeal or flour ?? There is a little.' Good again, and plenty of herbs in the garden ; we shall do.' So he washed a couple of Aints very clean, and set them on with water and onions, and a carrot or two. When the roots were tender he put in the meal, and some pepper and salt, and parsley and thyme, and the piece of stale bread, and I assure you we had a good dinner."

“But what was the use of the flints? Why not leave them out, and call it herb porridge ?"

THE PENNY POST.

“That is what I could not understand at first. Well, next Saturday matters, were much the same, so we again contentedly dined on flint-soup. In the course of the week, having picked some bones of meat, I was going to throw them away, when the thought struck me, that if they were chopped up and put in the soup, they would give at least as much goodness as flint. My husband thought so too; so we tried, and found they greatly improved the soup, and from that time we never wasted a bone; and in the course of a few weeks we found the money hold out for Saturday's dinner, and even allow a trifle to lay by. My husband was pleased when we got into this course; and when we were thoroughly settled in frugal habits, and not before, he told me the real use of the flints in the soup. "There are two things,' said he, 'which I have always resolved against, as being the ruin of many poor peopledebt and waste. So, from the day I took to providing for myself, I determined alwavs to keep bread in the house, and to live on bread and water, rather than run in debt. But instead of eating dry bread, and drinking cold water, I set myself to make it into soup; for I thought, if I boiled down the flints, which could not enrich the liquor, it might sharpen my wits to make the best use of anything that could." "I believe," continued the good woman," it was to sharpen my wits rather than his own; and I can truly say, that making flint-soup has taught me to turn to good account many things that are often thrown away as if they were worthless as stones."

Family Economist. The Penny Post.

"A BRAND PLUCKED OUT OF THE FIRE." Our minister spoke from these words a few weeks ago, on the occasion of a public baptism. Among the candidates was one whose case afforded an answer to the inquiry. He had been a wagoner several years, and was a sad drunkard-drink, strong drink, and much of it, he would have. He told me, after his baptism, of a narrow escape he once had in falling from the shafts of the wagon when drunk, and as the wheels passed on they tore off the flesh from the lower part of the back of his body, and passed over his right foot, broke his left leg and his right arm, and he showed me his forehead, from which the wheels tore the skin-a few inches more, and they would have gone over his head! He was conveyed to the county Infirmary, and on coming out went as soon as he could to the public house again for drink! Some time after this his wife died, and he was afflicted, but still he was unchanged, until one of our friends invited him to walk with him to 0- to hear Mr. S. He came, heard, believed, and with his wife, for he had married again, was baptized. “Is not_this a brand plucked out of the fire."

J. L.

THE CHILDREN'S CORNER.

The Children's Corner.

“To wrap

TAE BoY AND THE BIBLE.-A the bible, if you will go and get its little boy, a Sunday-scholar, was one weight in waste paper." At this day sent by his mother to a shop for unexpected but joyful proposal the some soap; the soap-woman having boy dried up his tears, saying, weighed it, took a leaf from a bible " that I will, mistress, and thank that was placed on the counter for you too." Away he ran to his waste paper, at which the boy was mother, and asked her for some greatly astonished, and vehemently paper; she gave him all she bad, exclaimed, “Why, mistress, that is and then he went to all his neigh the bible!" · Well, what if it be ?" bours' houses and begged more; replied the woman. “It is the bible," and having, as he hoped, collected repeated the boy,“ and what are you enough, he hastened with the bundle going to do with it?"

under his arm to the shop, and on up the soap.” “But, mistress, you entering it, exclaimed, “Now, misshould not tear up that book, for it tress, I have got the paper.” “Very is the bible !" cried the boy, with well,” said the woman,“let me weigh peculiar emphasis. “What does it.” The paper was put into one that signify? I bought it for waste scale, and the bible into the other. paper, to use in the shop.” The boy, The scale turned in the boy's with still increasing energy, ex- favour, and he cried out, with tears claimed, “ What, the bible! I wish of joy sparkling in his eyes, “ the it was mine; I would not tear it up bible is mine!" and seizing it, he like that." " Well," said the woman, exclaimed, "I have got it! I have “If you will pay me what I gave for got it!" and away he ran home to it, you shall have it.” “Thank yon, his mother, crying as he went, “I replied the boy, “I will go home and have got the bible! I have got the ask my mother for some money.” bible!” Away he went, and said, “Mother, mother, please to give me some

“ What for ?" said bis THE BIBLE A TREASURE, mother. “To buy a bible,” he re

WHAT a mercy !- what a treasure plied, “ for the woman at the shop

I possess in thy dear Word; was tearing up a bible, and I told

There I read with holy pleasure, her she should not do it; then she said she would sell it to me: oh,

Of the love of Christ my Lord. mother, do give me some money to

That dear word reveals the Saviour buy it, that it may not be torn up!"

Sinful children deeply need; His mother said, “I cannot, my

Oh! what mercy, love, and favour, dear boy, I have none.” The child

That for sinners Christ should bleed. cried; still begged for some money, but in vain. Then sobbing, he went

Oh! the blessedness of knowing back to the shop, and said, “My

Christ, the tender Saviour's love, mother is poor, and cannot give me

Freely on a child bestowing any inoney; but, oh mistress, dont

Grace and mercy from above. tear up the bible, for my teachers have told me that it is the word of Let that book be ever prized God!" The woman perceiving the Far above my little toys; boy to be greatly concerned, said, All besides shall be despised, “ Well, dont cry, for you shall have Led to seek far greater joys.

money!"

A POETIC EPISTLE.
Dear brother in Christ, though I see not your face,

Your name is engraved on my heart;
And oft with delight I contemplate the place

Where soon we shall meet not to part.
But oh! to that grace which has saved us from hell,

What debtors we have been, and are!
We must be content if the whole we would tell,

To wait till we both arrive there.
Yet, though I am conscious the heights of God's love,

And depths of his wisdom and grace,
Will never be known till we sing them above,

I cannot but aim at his praise.
Though high is the theme, and the ransom'd in heaven,

To reach it, exert all their skill ;
For one to be silent, whose sins are forgiven,

Is surely more difficult still.
Look back then, my soul, and, by mercy constrained,

Declare what thy Saviour has done;
When first over satan and sin he obtained

That conquest which made thee his own.
A slave to the passions which fetter mankind,

And mark them as servants of sin;
And yet to self-righteousness strongly inclined,

My heart was both proud and unclean.
To gratify self, and gain human applause,

I studied and strove night and day;
And heaven-bestowed talents, in pleasure's vain cause,

Exerted my powers to display.
But thoughts of eternity oft would intrude,

And conscience on judginent would muse;
“How must I of God with abhorrence be viewed,

While thus all his gifts I abuse!'
Till secret alarms, in the season of sleep,

Disturbed and prevented my rest,
By pointing my fears to the bottomless deep,

My envy to seats of the blest.
'Twas then with reluctance I purchased the book

Where God's righteous will is revealed, Intending but seldom within it to look,

My eyes to its worth being sealed.

A POETIC EPISTLE.

I wanted to flee from the danger of hell,

Yet sinful enjoyments retain ;
And foolishly thought if I sometimes did well

I safely might swerve now and then.
But while I was seeking, on his holy day,

(Behold the long-suffering of God !) Unhallowed delight in perusing a play,

The bible my purpose withstood."God's word, thus neglected, will one day appear

A witness against thee,' it said ; 'Twas whispered to conscience, and filled me with fear,

When, trembling, I opened and read*Cut off that right hand, and pluck out that right eye,

And sell not thy soul for thy sin;
'Tis better, though maim'd, from destruction to fly,

Than whole, with thy lusts, to fall in.'
This pierced through my soul, like a two-edged sword,

And laid my heart open to view;
I felt both the truth and the power of the word;

My sins were intended I knew.
Thenceforward a struggle commenced in my mind,

'Twixt present and future concerns; But still I in secret to present inclined,

While thus I reflected by turnsm
‘Suppose, all through life, I in luxury roll,

And swim in delights to the grave;
And lose, for my pleasures, the life of my soul,

What recompense then shall I have ?
Yet what is my life worth to me, if I part

With all my companions in mirth ?'
Friends, prospects, amusements, all clung round my heart,

And seemed to demand it for earth.
Too oft from reflection I hasted away,

To lose my sad thoughts in a crowd;
Or drown them in mirth, at a ball or a play;

But conscience e'en there would intrude.
I trembled to think of those all-seeing eyes,

That watched me through all my career;
And thought on the day when the dead must arise

With horror akin to despair.
That word, which bold infidels dare to disputr,

Which God did in mercy inspire,
I found, like an axe which is laid to the root

To cut down a tree for the fire.

[ocr errors]
« PreviousContinue »