The Fragment Basket. BAD AIR. was the result? That in the three following years, out of 4,243 children born in that hospital, only 165 died. In the very same rooms, too, where, according to the old ratio, before the ventilation took place, the number of deaths to that number of children would have been 1,632. To save the lives of more than 1,400 human beings in three years by merely putting in a few pipes! Can any say there is nothing in ventilation, after such facts as these? LOVE OF LIFE. Bad air is a slow poison. That is the trouble. People go on taking it into their lungs day after day and night after night. They grow pale, their lungs suffer, the circulation is languid, they take colds readily; the chest, the stomach, the skin become disordered, and a host of chronic diseases attack them. A little carbonic acid taken every day don't kill a man. It is almost a pity it did not. If a red-hot stove destroyed instantly one man in every town daily for a week, there might be some salvation for the nation. If, What a native clinging of maninstead of fainting away in crowded kind to this poor life there must: and badly ventilated public assem-be; what an inextinguishable sweetblies, people occasionally died outright in convulsions, the authorities would take the matter in hand, and make it penal for the owners of such buildings to open them for public use, without attending to the proper condition for the preservation of health. When a thing is only a slow poison, the age is too much in a hurry to attend to it. In such cases we must wake up the public lethargy by facts. And here is one of them. We have before us the history of the Dublin Lyingin Hospital. Some years ago this building, erected in the common way, without the slightest regard to ventilation, was found to exhibit a great amount of mortality among the young children born there. In four successive years-healthy seasons, too-out of 7,650 infants brought forth in the hospital, 2,244 died within the first fortnight after birth, of convulsions, or what the nurses call nine-days fits. These children foamed at the mouth, the jaws became firmly closed, the face swelled and assumed a purplish hue, as though they were choking. These last circumstances suggested to the physician that a deficiency of wholesome air was connected with the great mortality. Air-pipes were immediately contrived; the various rooms were well ventilated. What ness in the mere fact of existence, SALVATION OF INFANTS. Tell us if Christianity does not throw a pleasing radiance around an infant's tomb? And should any parent who hears us feel softened by the remembrance of the light that twinkled a few short months under his roof, and, at the end of its little period, expired, we cannot think that we venture too far, when we say that he has only to persevere in the faith, and in the following of the Gospel, and that very light will again shine upon him in heaven. The blossom which withered here upon its stalk, has been transplanted there to a place of endurance; and it will then gladden that eye which now weeps out the agony of an affection that has been sorely wounded; and, in the name of Him who, if on earth, would have wept along with them, do we bid all true believers to sorrow not even as others which have no hope, but to take comfort in the hope of that country where there is no sorrow and no separation. "Oh, when a mother meets on high CHRIST CRUCIFIED. Abraham rejoiced to see Christ's day, but he saw it through the dimless and distance of two thousand years. The prophets were doubtless filled with believing, and magnificent ideas concerning "the glory to be revealed;" but they saw not, as we see, every separate ray merged in one radiant centre; every type and every prophecy fulfilled in "the Lamb of God;" every single and scattered lineament united in the person of Christ. The Gospel they had, but not like ourselves," without spot or wrinkle,"-a sun shining in its strength, a chain complete in every link, a whole perfect in every part! It was not to them that steady light which, casting its rays backwards, illuminates the vista from Revelation to Genesis, which enables man to read the mind of God throughout the past, and thereby read it for the future. They had not Christ visibly crucified before them-that great mystery which explains all others. CHARITY SERMON. sion, preached a charity sermon at Dean Swift, upon a certain occaSt. Patrick's, Dublin, the length of which disgusted many of his auditors; which coming to his knowledge, and it falling to his lot soon after to preach another sermon of the like kind in the same place, he took special care to avoid falling 66 into the former error. His text was, lendeth unto the Lord; and that 'He that hath pity on the poor, which he hath given will he pay him again." The Dean, after repeating his text in a more than commonly emphatical tone, added, hear the terms of this loan; if you 'Now, my beloved brethren, you like the security, down with your dust." It is worthy of remark, that the quaintness and brevity of this sermon produced a very large contribution. LIBERTY AND SLAVERY. None can love freedom heartily but good men; the rest love not freedom, but license, which never hath more scope or more indulgence than under tyrants. Hence it is that tyrants are not oft offended by, nor stand much in doubt of, bad men, as being all naturally servile; but in whom virtue and true worth most is eminent, them they fear in earnest, as by right their masters; against them lies all their hatred and corruption.-Milton. SATAN'S WORKS. The devil comes up even into the pulpit, and raises pride there; he follows you when you do a kindness, and raises pride there; he somehow makes the pot of ointment send forth an unsavoury savour, by putting in some dead fly or other. IDLENESS AND SIN. in the way of doing worse than noDo nothing, and you will soon be thing. KNOCK. They that knock the hardest knock the best, and they that knock the oftenest are the most welcome. The Children's Gallery. MEMOIR OF M. A. B. IN a village in Hertfordshire resided a little girl, M. A. B., who attended the Sabbath-school. She was the only surviving daughter of her mother, who is a widow, and was deprived of her father at a very early age; consequently she was left in the entire care of her mother up to the time of her removal from this world. As her mother was very poor, she had not much education, yet with the little she was able to give, combined with that she received at the Sabbath-school, she treasured all up in her mind, and it was as food to her soul, the joy and rejoicing of her heart. Her knowledge of the most important truths of the Bible was very wonderful for one so young. It was, indeed, a privilege to visit this young disciple, and talk to her of a Saviour's love. Her bright and happy countenance showed how welcome was the subject. She said but little except in answer to questions. On one occasion, a short time before she died, being asked by her teacher what was the ground of her acceptance with God, she replied with emphasis, "I believe that Jesus died to save sinners; and he will save me if I trust in him, and pray to him.” Her favourite hymns were, "Jesus, lover of my soul," etc., and "Tis religion that can give," etc. When asked if she had any wish to recover, the dear child replied, “I should love to go to school once more; but I would rather die, and go to heaven, then I shall be with Jesus for ever." She suffered much from extreme weakness (her disease being consumption), but her attachment to the Sabbath-school was so strong, that frequently, when she had scarcely strength to walk, she would be seen there. She much enjoyed the public services of the sanctuary, and when there, listened with deep attention, and continued to do so as long as her strength would permit. Her whole soul seemed to be fixed on the Rock of Ages. Just a day or so before her death, her teacher visited her for the last time, and being asked if she was still happy, her pale face lighted up with joy, and she replied, "So happy, I shall soon be in heaven." On leaving her, the dear little sufferer grasped her teacher's hand, and said. "We shall meet again in heaven." It was evident that the fear of death was taken away by the blessed assurance that her sins were all forgiven. On being told there was to be a missionary meeting in the village, the dear child expressed a wish that her mother would carry her there, that she might hear about the heathen. She had threepence in her missionary box, all she possessed, and she wished it to be sent to the meeting. Her minister, who heard her request, took the pence, and remarked to those who were present, that he had no doubt it would be said of her, as she was welcomed to the seats of bliss, "She hath done what she could." "Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of your Lord." A few hours after, her happy spirit took its flight, and has doubtless joined the blissful company that have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Most truly is it said, “I love them that love me; and those that seek me early shall find me." Her funeral took place on the Sabbath, and so much was she beloved, that the children of the school and teachers followed her remains to the grave. It was a solemn and affecting scene. Let the young especially, who read the account of the happy death of M. A. B. see to it that they are found prepared. "Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth." Seek the Lord early, and you shall find him. This will make you happy on earth, and in heaven you will be happy as the angels of God, and dwell with Jesus for ever. And may all Sabbath - school teachers take fresh encouragement to labour, not only to teach the "little ones" the letter of the word, but to love the Saviour, seeing in this another instance of the benefit resulting from their work of faith and labour of love. THE EMMETS. A moralist, in exhibiting the vanity But here comes an insect of figure. Do you not take notice of a little white straw that he carries in his mouth? That straw, you must understand, he would not part with for the longest track about the molehill. Did you but know what he has undergone to purchase it! See how the ants of all qualities and conditions swarm around him! Should the straw drop out of his mouth, you would see all this numerous circle of attendants follow the next that took it up, and leave the discarded insect, or run over his back to come at his successor. If now you have a mind to see all the ladies of the molehill, observe, first, the emmet that listens to one on the left hand, at the same time that she seems to turn her head away from him. He tells this poor insect that she is a goddess; that her eyes are brighter than the sun-that life and death are at her disposal. She believes him, and gives herself a thousand little airs upon it. Mark the vanity of the emmet on her left hand! She can scarcely crawl with age, but you must know she values herself upon her birth; and, if you observe, spurns every one that comes within her reach. The little nimble coquette that is by her side is a wit. She has broken many an emmet's heart. Do but see what a drove of lovers are running after her! The moralist concludes his picture by supposing that Death, in the shape of a cock-sparrow, comes upon the molehill, and picks up, without distinction, the emmet of quality and his flatterers, the emmet of substance and his day-labourers, the white-straw officer and his sycophants, with all the goddesses, wits, and beauties of the molehill. THE DYING BOY'S THE sweet soft air of a June morn- withal, none would fear that he would be the occupant of an early grave. Alas! what are more deceitful than appearances? It is now high noon. The breeze is sleeping; the sun is pouring out the full blaze of his glory; our little friend (we may call him Edward) is returning from school. His step, however, is slow, his cheek pale, his eye dull, and an air of languor has gathered upon his features. The boy is sick! Rapid are the steps by which he descends to the gates of death. There he lies in the last hour of life; the struggle with the King of Terrors has commenced. Looking up to his father, he says, " Pa, must I die?" "Yes, my dear, I am afraid you must," replies the heart - broken parent. "Pa, won't you go into the grave with me?" "I can't, my child." "But, pa, I don't like to go there alone, it looks so dark." "Be not afraid, my son; Jesus, the friend of sinners, will go with you, if you ask him." The child looked earnestly at his father, slowly turned his face towards the wall, and for a few moments his lips looked like those of faithful Hannah. Presently he turned his head towards his father with a smile of ineffable joy playing on his quivering lips, and said, “I am not afraid to die now, for Jesus will go with me, and I shall be safe." Gradually his eyes closed, his features settled into the fixedness of death, his breathing grew less and less distinct, until his pulse stood still; his heart ceased its action, and the suffering boy was changed into a bright seraph, floating on silvery wings in the sweet atmosphere of heaven. POLITENESS AT HOME. ALWAYS speak with the utmost politeness and deference to your parents and friends. Some children are polite and civil every where except at home; but there they are coarse and rude enough. Shameful! Nothing sits so graceful upon children, and nothing makes them so lovely as habitual respect and dutiful deportment towards their parents and superiors. It makes the plainest face beautiful, and gives to every common action a nameless but peculiar charm. A TEXT EXPLAINED. "Cast thy bread upon the waters; for thou shalt find it after many days."ECCLES. xi. 1. RICE grows in warm climates, and best on wet grounds; sometimes the whole surface is thinly flooded with water. In this state the rice is strewed over it, when it swims upon the water until it gradually sinks into the ground, and sticks in the mud. The rice then quickly springs up, and yields a plentiful harvest. The seed, which to a stranger would appear to be lost, is so managed, by Divine care, that it sends back a plentiful return. FEED MY LAMBS. UNDER Afric's burning sun Who have never heard of God, Countless little children live, Or the joy his word can give. And can we, who know his love, Keep it to ourselves alone? "Feed my lambs," is his command; We must help to make it known. There is room enough for all In his safe and happy fold; Gladly little heathens come, Who of this sweet rest are told. Gladly will they leave their gods, Gods of stone, and wood, and clay; From a human sacrifice Turn with grief and shame away. When they hear that Christ has died, That their guilty souls may live, This is just the news they want, This the food that we must give. Then beneath the palm-trees' shade, On the word of life they 'll feed; Blessing those whose mercy gave To the little lambs in need. |