THE HAPPY MAN. in their own eyes, and in the eyes of their sorrowful friends. THE happy man was born in the city On my seeing the young man first of Regeneration, in the parish of Re- referred to, he gave a vacant, wild-like pentance unto life. He was educated gaze on the small room into which he at the school of Obedience, and now was ushered by a polite officer; and, lives in the plain of Perseverance; he after a few seconds, seized me by the works at the trade of Diligence, not- hand, and fell upon my neck speechless. withstanding he has a large estate in I assisted him to a chair; and after a the county of Christian-contentment, few minutes he said, “Oh, William, that and many times does jobs of Self-de- you should come to see me in this place! nial. He wears the garment of Humi- Ah, I trace all my troubles to my disrelity, and has a better suit to put on gard of the sabbath. When I went to when he goes to Court, called the robe church with my uncle, all was prosperof Christ's Righteousness. He often ous; but when I began to take pleasure walks in the valley of Self-abasement, on the sabbath-day, my troubles comand climbs the mountains of Spiritual-menced; and now I am here. Oh! my mindedness. He breakfasts every morn- wife, my dear babes!" (three in number) ing on Prayer, and sups every evening "When I was called to see you, I was on the same. He has meat to eat writing a letter to my wife, and in which the world knoweth not of, and prayer to God that he might direct my his drink is the sincere milk of the pen. Ah! once I ridiculed prayer; but Word. Thus happy he lives, and happy I do not now. If ever released from he dies! Happy is he who has gospel this place, I am sure I shall be a praysubmission in his will, due order in his ing man. Oh, I remember many things affections, sound peace in his conscience, now I have heard from Mr. Faulkner, sanctifying grace in his soul, self-divi- of Clerkenwell, while preaching. I renity in his breast, true humility in his member the thief upon the cross; he heart, the Redeemer's yoke on his neck, prayed, and found mercy. I think I a vain world under his feet, and a can see some relief and comfort now crown of glory over his head. Happy and from this hour." I took from my the life and glorious the death of such pocket my Bible, and pointed him to an one. In order to attain which-be- the 5th verse of the 62d Psalm; he lieve firmly, wait patiently, work abun- seized the sacred volume, held it with dantly, live holy, die daily, watch your both hands, read the psalm in silence heart, guide your senses, redeem your with the eagerness only known by the time, love Christ, and long for glory! experience of a deep-toned repentance; Sept. 1847. continued in secret prayer, and motionless for some time, when I was constrained to remove my Bible from his hands, to prevent it receiving injury from the falling tears that poured upon his hands as briny torrents. I then invited him to prayer with me; in which exercise we engaged for some time. Shortly after, I delivered him to the officer, and the officer to the prison;" there he lies, waiting the awful future which lies before him. X. A VISIT TO NEWGATE. I HAVE just returned from visiting our great metropolitan prison; and by the very kind and courteous permission, have been allowed a private interview with a young man, once my constant associate. Never having had but two acquaintances, I feel deep sympathy with the circumstances of both; one I have visited in the Fleet Prison, and now the other in Newgate! Both of these had first-rate prospects; when at the usual age they commenced to take upon themselves the responsibilities of commercial life, they entered upon lucrative businesses; and by events brought on through sin, are degraded 66 I send you, Mr. Editor, this plain and faithful statement, as my mite and contribution in favour of a careful observance of the sabbath. The confession above made was unasked for, and may be read by sabbath-breakers as the echo from within those dreary stone-walls in the city of London of dismal notoriety. I cannot conclude A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE Mrs. A. No, sir. Dr. S. Where, then, do you go? Mrs. A. To the Independent Chapel, sir? sir. Dr. S. What do you go there for? Dr. S. I am sure you do not hear it there. Mrs. A. I am sure I do, sir. Dr. S. You will never go to heaven, if you go there. Mrs. A. I hope I shall, sir. Dr. S. You are dead in trespasses and sin. Mrs. A. For why, sir; is there more roads to heaven than one? Dr. S. Yes, of course there is. Mrs. A. Sir, I do not know but one; Jesus Christ, and him crucified. Dr. S. You will leave me to know REV. DR. SISEN AND A MRS. better than you, for I have had the ALLFORD. Dr. Sisen. Who lives here? Mrs. Allford. John Allford, sir. Dr. S. How many children have you? bishop's hand on my head (putting his own hand on his head at the same time). Mrs. A. So have I, sir. The reverend divine went off in a Mrs. A. Twelve, sir; ten boys and passion, exclaiming, "Ignorant woman! two girls, sir. Dr. S. Do you go to church? Ignorant woman !" The Letter Box. X. Y. Z. MORAL CHARACTER OF THE LONDON PRESS. WHILE London, on general grounds, presents a vast and wonderful theme to the Christian philosopher, its moral condition is a subject which most deeply concerns every man, not only in the United Kingdom, but in the Bri- | tish empire. Nowhere on our globe is there such an aggregation of human beings, and nowhere is there such a variety of complex and potent agencies working on the spirit of man. Of those agencies the most powerful are those of the pulpit and the printing press; but, on the present occasion, we are concerned only with the latter. Great and precious are its fruits to society generally, especially to the middle and upper classes; but there is a fearful drawback with respect to the lower orders, and the young of all ranks. The power of the London Press for evil among these, is great almost beyond credibility or conception; its exertions are stupendous, and the success attending them is terrible! The Christian public have no idea tions, however, it must be that a peaceful as well as a happy home is meant. We have seen houses or rooms in which a father, and mother, and brothers, and sisters lived, whose temper and conduct towards each other would lead us to think of anything rather than happiness. Loud and harsh, and sometimes profane words; sullen looks, selfish and cruel acts, cries and blows; these and other things like them, remind us of that dreadful place to which all the wicked will go at last, and where no kind word, or look, or thought, will ever enter! Is your home as happy as you wish it to be, young friend? If not, can you not do something to make it happier! "Well, my child, which is the sweetest!" "Oh, it is this little violet !" "Well, you know now, my child, why I prefer the plain violet to the beautiful almond. Beauty without fragrance in flowers is as worthless, in my opinion, as beauty without gentleness and good temper in little girls. When any of those people who speak without reflection, may say to you, What charming blue eyes! What beautiful curls! What a fine complexion!' without knowing whether you have any good qualities, and without thinking of your defects and failings, which everybody is born with, remember then the almond blossom; and remember also, when your affectionate mother may not be there to tell you, that beauty without gentleness and RULE FOR GOING TO SCHOOL, OR good temper is worthless." ON ERRANDS. Don't stop by the way, And you'll prize my advice. in which they lived, in which the first step in the downward path was taken as a truant. When we see a boy or girl sauntering along the road or street, or lounging about the school-room door, as if they were really inviting the Evil One to come and tempt them, we always feel like taking them by the hand, and saying to them, Do you not know, my child, that the old serpent looks upon a truant, or even an idler, as we look upon a fish with the bait in his mouth, or a bird with one foot in the snare? Move quickly then in the path of duty! THE ALMOND BLOSSOM. "MAMMA," said a lovely girl to her mother, as they were walking together in the garden, "why do you have so few of those beautiful double almonds in the garden? You have hardly a bed where there is not a tuft of violets, and they are so much plainer! what can be the reason?" "My dear child," said the mother, "gather me a bunch of each. Then I will tell you why I prefer the humble violet." The little girl ran off, and soon returned with a fine bunch of the beautiful almond and a few violets. "Smell them, my love," said her mother, "and see which is the sweetest." The child smelled again and again, and could scarcely believe herself, that the lovely almond had no scent; while the plain violet had a delightful odour. THE SENSE OF JUSTICE. THE boys attending one of our public schools, of the average age of seven years, had, in their play of bat and ball, broken one of the neighbour's windows: but no clue of the offender could be obtained, as he would not confess, nor would any of his associates expose him. The case troubled the governess; and on the occasion of a gentleman visiting the school, she privately and briefly stated the circumstance, and wished him, in some remarks to the school, to advert to the principle involved in the case. The address to the school had reference principally to the conduct of boys in the streets and at their sports. The principles of rectitude and kindness which should govern them everywhere-even when alone, and when they thought no eye could see, and there was no one present to observe. The school seemed deeply interested in the remarks. A very short time after the visitor left the school, a little boy arose in his seat, and said: "Miss L, I batted the ball that broke Mr.'s window. Another boy threw the ball; but I batted it, and struck the window. I am willing to pay for it." There was a death-like silence in the school as the boy was speaking, and it continued a minute after he had closed. "But it won't be right for to pay the whole for the glass," said another boy, rising in his seat; "all of us that were playing should pay something, because we were all engaged alike in the play; I'll pay my part!" "And I." A thrill of pleasure seemed to run through the school at this display of correct feeling. The teacher's heart was touched, and she felt more than ever the responsibility of her charge. Cabinet of Things New and Old. THE POOR MAN'S PORTION: Sermon preached by the late Rev. ANDREW FULLER, March 4, 1795. ECCLES. xi. 1—4. SOLOMON lived in times of great plenty; yet they had their poor, and the text proves a regard to them. Charity is here expressed by casting our bread on the waters-either in allusion to sowing seed in some countries on the water, or to express the improbability of ever seeing it again. I. Point out the duty recommended. In general it is, to do good with our property. Charity has been brought into disrepute by the superstitious motives of some; but the thing itself is right, and a great duty. The change of dispensation made no change here, except to increase the obligation. It is the glory of true religion that it inspires and inculcates a spirit of benevolence. It is a religion of charity, which none other ever was. There never was a hospital built until Christianity built one. It is true there have been many since, and by people of the world too; but they were provoked to it by Christians. This spirit is not peculiar to the New Testament: Deut. xv. 7-12. Christ went about doing good; he taught the doctrine (parable of good Samaritan); he censured the Pharisees for setting it aside; he set the example to his disciples, and they abounded in it. It is no inconsiderable part of true religion to let our light shine before men. But more particularly, 1. That with which we do good must be our own. "Cast thy bread." As there are some who withhold more than is meet, so there are others who, from ostentation, give what is not their own. 2. We are to do good liberally. "Give a portion to seven, and also to eight." It is a great obstacle to many, and a common objection, that cases are so numerous. This is true, and every person must judge whether he ought to give to all. If not, he must select the most deserving and important, and those in his immediate circle. But the caution, "Be not weary in well doing," is not given without reason. 3. For the sake of doing good we should deny ourselves. "Thy bread." It is a notion of many that they are required to give only superfluities; but this is treating God and the poor with only a dog's portion-the crumbs, as it were, which fall from their table. "Cast thy bread on the waters." There is something wonderful in that passage, "Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that although he was rich, for your sakes he became poor,' &c. Deny thyself, especially in such times as these, of luxuries in eating drinking, apparel, entertainments, appearance, &c. Emu N late the churches of Macedonia, (2 Cor. viii.), whose deep poverty abounded to the riches of their liberality. 4. We are to do good, notwithstanding discouraging appearances in providence. We must not regard wind and weather, but resemble the husbandman in sowing the grain. The work must be done-the corn must be sown, let wind and weather be what they may. “Here is a cloud," says one; "stay awhile. I am apprehensive of loss in this quarter and in that; and I may not have enough for myself." Nay; but "in the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thy hand." Give as the Lord hath prospered you, and leave another day or another year to take care for itself. II. Consider the motives by which this duty is enforced. 1. The reward which awaits you. "Thou shalt find it again." What we do for the poor is not thrown away, though it may seem to be so. It is sowing the seeds of immortality, and, if done right, we shall find it, though it may be "many days" first. God so orders it, that merciful men meet with mercy in this life, and their children after them, Ps. cxii. 20; and who knows what ours may need? Or, if we never find it here, we shall find it in a dying hour, and still more at the judgment, Matt. xxv. 31-46. The poor are Christ's receivers. Yea, it will add to our joy hereafter, else it could not be called “laying up treasure in heaven.” 2. The impending ills that threaten us. "Thou knowest not what evil shall be upon the earth." Covetousness would turn this to another use: "We know not what we shall want; we must every one look to himself." No! that which you now possess may be taken from you: foes may consume it, floods may sweep it away, enemies may invade it, or internal changes may strip you of your all. Do good while you have it in your power-by-and-by you may be unable. 3. The design of God in affording us what we have-not that it may be hoarded, but communicated. If the clouds be full of rain, they empty themselves on the earth. Inanimate nature is brought in to provoke us. We are but stewards after all, and must give account of our stewardship. 4. The near approach of death, when all our opportunities will be for ever at an end. The tree will soon fall, and as it falls, so it will lie. "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work nor device in the grave, whither thou goest." MEANS TO BE EMPLOYED FOR OBTAINING THE SPIRIT. SOME of these are to be engaged in | in addition to the ordinary times of our If we look into the New Testament, and observe the practice of the spos |